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luveline · 2 years ago

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losers | remus lupin

“Please.”

“Please?” he says back, mirroring your soft tone. “You think you need to say please?” His pinky bumps under the waistband of your trousers. There isn’t much give. He traces the lining to your zipper, fiddling with the small piece of metal as your eyes darken. “I should be the one saying it.” His voice keeps dropping, an utterance in the shell of your ear, his words for you and you alone. “I’m at your mercy, dove. Don’t say please with me. Okay?”

you find remus’ number on an abandoned motorbike. things snowball from there. [10k words]

fem!reader, fluff, first date, smut mdni, implied inexperienced!reader, almost rockstar!remus, mentioned that remus takes painkillers, muggle!au, early 2000’s au

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ There’s a motorbike outside of the cafe.

It’s huge. Too heavy for you to move. Technically, you hadn’t found it at all, it was left there in the dead of night a few days ago and hasn’t budged since. It’s illegally parked, a fact that your manager won't stop muttering about while she’s elbow deep in latte foam and coffee cakes.

“I’m getting the bastard thing towed,” she grumbles that morning. “Let the police deal with it.”

That seems rather harsh to you. It isn’t necessarily in the way, and it looks well loved. Perhaps whoever left it can’t remember where they left it, having stumbled home on inebriated footing after one too many at the pub across the street. You think about how much it must cost to get your stuff back after it’s been towed, and though you aren’t sure of the specifics, you know it can’t be cheap. So, when your manager falls into conversation with a regular and your break begins, you creep outside to do some investigating.

It’s a hulking thing made of more black than silver. There are stickers across the left side of the body, weathered and peeling, though one is newer than the others and immediately draws your eye.

A phone number.

If lost, please call.

You take your phone out of your pocket, a flip phone with one dangling charm in the shape of a star. You click each faded button slowly. You're scared to talk to someone you don’t know, but relieved to maybe save the day.

It goes for ages.

“Hello?”

“Hey,” you say, dropping your voice into its sweetest tones, though nerves make you too soft, and you worry you’re hard to hear. “Hey, um, sorry to bother you. I work at The Mill, it’s a– a cafe in the city centre… Are you missing a bike, by any chance? A motorbike?”

“Oh, thank you. Yeah, it’s my friend’s. He can be… forgetful.” The voice that speaks is both smooth and gritty, impossibly, like whoever it is that’s talking smoked half a pack of cigarettes before he answered the phone. He clears his throat. “I hope it hasn’t been an imposition for you.”

“Actually, uh, my manager wants to have it towed. Like, now. I can try to fend her off but honestly she’s like, that physics law, um, unstoppable force? Uh,” —you’re stuttering, making it worse, because his voice is surprisingly handsome and you’re an idiot through and through— “yeah, so could you come and get it?”

“Yes! Yeah, absolutely, we’re on our way. Thank you.”

“Sure. Of course.”

You hear something not meant for you, the tail end of, “Sirius, get up. You better call Marl and—”

Phone back in your pocket, you take a quick glance around the street before reaching out to run your finger over the cracked leather of the motorbike seat. You’ve never ridden one before. You’ve never wanted to. The level of fearlessness one needs for it isn’t one you possess.

You’re the opposite of fearless.

The sun hides behind a wave of clouds. Your skin chills near immediately, your prim slacks and apron a worthless defence against the cold. It’s an average day here, grey and quiet. Occasionally a couple will pass you, hand in hand as they traverse the worn pavement. You smile at an elderly man and his dog as they shuffle across the street and into the cafe. Your smile fades as you tune into the fierce tones of your manager, demanding to know where you’ve gone. If your absence is what distracts her from calling the police, so be it.

You’re considering getting your phone back out to play Snake when a passing car slows beside you. You straighten up and out, feeling your spine click in more places than it should as the passenger door opens and an insanely attractive man throws himself out of it.

“My angel!” he cries, heading straight for you.

You take a panicked step backward. The man dives for his motorbike. You flinch, mystified by his enthusiasm and his opposite appearance. Short sleeves reveal arms full of dark tattoos, with one side marred by a brutally long scar from his elbow to the back of a ring-laden hand. You tear your eyes from him as a second door closes across the street, and feel all the air rush from your chest as a second man approaches.

He’s very pretty. It might be redundant to say it to yourself, presented as you are with an undeniable truth, but you think it anyway. Sandy brown hair, pale skin, and in enough layers to make up for his friends lack thereof, the second man ignores any dramatics and meets you head on.

“Hi,” he says, holding out his hand, “you’re the one who called?”

Closer now, you can see the scars on his face. They stretch over the ridge of his nose and into his eyebrow. A smaller one tugs as he talks against his top lip.

You take his hand and shake it limply. “Yeah, that was me.”

If he’s concerned with your nervousness he doesn’t show it. His smile doesn’t move. “He wants to say thank you. He will, once he gets over himself.”

“Thank you!” the dark-haired man calls. “She’s my everything. I’ve been sick with worry.”

“Have you?” the man in front of you asks, his voice steady, almost intimidating in its impassiveness.

“Yes, Moons, I have been… not that you’d know.”

“Some of us have real problems,” Moons snips, though he quickly looks at you like he’s embarrassed. “Sorry. He brings out the worst in me.”

“You must be good friends.”

You don’t know why you say it. He only smiles.

“We must be.”

The first man stands up from checking over his motorbike and beams at you. You suspect it’s an expression that works in his favour more often than not. “What can I give you, doll?”

“No, nothing. Please. I’ll just be glad to hear the end of it.”

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, really."

Your manager calls your name, clear as day despite the thick pane of glass and brick walls separating you.

"That's you?" Moons asks.

"That's me. Sorry."

"No, don't be. Thanks so much for calling."

You nod hurriedly, throwing them both a 'nice to meet you, I'm sorry for leaving so fast' kind of smile and head back inside.

You take a sneaky look back when you're behind the counter again. They’ve turned their backs to you, Moons' friend ruffling his hair roughly. After a minute or two, Moons gets back in his car, and the motorbike pulls away like it was never there to begin with.

What sort of name is Moons? you ask yourself. It's a question that stays with you for a few days. You find yourself hoping you'll see him again, or that his friend's motorbike will turn up outside of the cafe for a few long days and give you an excuse to call him. His number stays unsaved in your recent calls menu for a while. Eventually, you forget about him altogether; the motorbike, the call, the gentle wave of his hair.

You're hard-pressed to forget his voice, though. There'd been something familiar about it.

"Nice highscore."

You jump hard and wince as the metallic taste of blood hits your taste buds. To make it worse, you slam your phone up into the counter it was hiding under in shock. It makes a fatal crunching sound.

You shove it into your pocket and look up. Standing there, in all his handsome weariness, is Moons, sans friend. He's wearing nice clothes, clean and clearly ironed. You're immediately aware of your ratty uniform and your unkempt hair.

"Shit," you say, which is so fucking embarrassing, honestly, you could fall through the floor and stay there, "Sorry. What can I get you?"

His eyebrows inch up his forehead. "What's the easiest thing to make?"

That's not a question you get often. "Uh, regular black coffee, or tea, or, the uh– the hot chocolate's not that hard. But you should order whatever you like, of course."

Moons smiles at you. You're starting to understand the nickname (assuming it is a nickname). He has this odd but enticing presence about him, like that awestruck feeling of looking up at night and seeing all the teeny tiny stars and the moonlight that comes down with them, bright and somewhat daunting.

"Sure you don't mind?"

"I'm paid not to mind."

"Can I get the biggest cup of tea you can make? Milk and two sugars, please."

"Absolutely." You sidestep to the register and click a bunch of the wrong buttons. You're unprofessionally flustered. "Uh, three sixty five?"

He passes you a five pound note. Your tip cup is for the more generous type, and he has no trouble dropping his palmful of change into it. He barely looks. You're expecting him to take a seat but he stays standing, one arm pressed to the counter, the other held up. He scratches behind his ear absentmindedly, as though he has nowhere else to be.

"Are you in a hurry?" you ask, confused.

He stays quiet for enough time to shit you up. You're tipping milk over your hand and hoping he hasn't seen it when he says, "No rush. I'm here to see you."

You look over your shoulder at him. You can't help it. "To see me."

"Yeah."

You spin back to his tea. The counter is covered in spills and sugar, cup tops and wooden stirrers. You take them all in with wide eyes. Nobody ever comes to see you. Not your friends, not family (unless they want something). Especially not boys you met once for two minutes.

"Is there something wrong?" you ask.

You clip the lid onto his big tea and wrap it in napkins so it doesn't burn his hands.

"Nothing's wrong," he says kindly. "I wanted to apologise. Your boss was upset with you. It was Sirius' fault. We owe you for it."

"You really don't have to say sorry. She wasn’t that mad. No harm, no foul."

You put his cup of tea down in front of him and try to smile like girls do in the movies. Soft doe eyes, not too bright, not too awkward. You give up after a second and feel it twist into something regrettable.

His long silence makes you squirm.

"A thank you, then.”

He offers you an envelope. You take it.

The paper is crisp and thick. Your fingers are clumsy, and it takes you too many seconds to fold the envelope's lip and pull out the card stock inside.

You look up in shock. "I can't–"

He's not there. You look to the door, catching what might've been his hand as he walks out of view.

He's left you two concert tickets. You don't go to concerts. You might have, when you were younger, and had friends to follow. As it stands he's given you two seated tickets for a show in the Pointer Arena not far from where you work, for a band you've never heard of. The price on each is a solid £20, which is way too much repayment for ringing a number from a sticker. Worse, you're not sure you have somebody who can use the second one.

You hope he'll come back for clarification alone, and a little to see him, but he doesn't, and soon the date on the ticket matches the date on your calendar and you're standing outside of the venue with no clue how to hold yourself.

You stand in line for a while. It's a very long line made up of mostly younger women. You listen for the calling of a reseller and spot a group of young girls trying to haggle with them, reluctantly leaving your place in line.

"Hi," you say quietly to the one furthest from the epicentre. "I'm sorry if this is weird. I have an extra ticket tonight, and I was wondering if you'd like it? I know it's seated, but maybe you could use it to get in and then, uh, not sit? Or just sit." You could writhe around on the ground in shame. You hold out the spare ticket. "If you want it."

"Are you kidding?"

"No, seriously."

She takes the ticket and you walk away before she can try and give it back to you. Whether she uses it or not, it's no longer your problem to deal with. The lady who'd been standing behind you lets you back in line, for which you're extremely grateful, and you shiver your way to the front with nerves churning your stomach.

You've imagined being turned away twenty times by the time they usher you through the doors. The air is buzzing with excitement, enough of it to ramp up your nerves, and you smile weakly at the people who pass you on the way up to the seating area you've been designated. The Pointer Arena is a smaller venue with much more standing than seating capacity available. The seats are at the sides and back of the second floor, looking down at the pit with a safety barrier in front.

You slide into your seat and peer down at the crowd as it fills up one ant of a person at a time. You can't distinguish one person from another after a while. It’s a moving sea of dark clothes.

It takes a long time for the opening act to come on. You're not having much fun. You'd tried to use the computer in the cafe to research the bands playing tonight but the dial up hadn't been working and your manager hates when you take long breaks, so you aren't sure you'll even enjoy yourself. You're not sure why you came here — is it sad, to come here alone? It looks sad, you think, pathetic, but it doesn't feel sad. You're not very good at talking, anyways. It's so difficult. Or maybe you just make it that way.

This is why you regret coming. Any time spent by yourself is time to think. You hate thinking, but it's all you seem to be able to do. Think and think and think. Your mind runs in the same circles. Things you've done, things you wish you did, things you want to do so badly it makes you feel sick. You can't stand it.

The crowd begins to rise in volume. Cheers echo against the atrium ceiling, and you push yourself to the edge of your seat to see what's making them all so excited.

The opening band. They're too far away to see clearly. First on stage is a man with brown skin and a head of black curls, a guitar swinging from his neck, the body barely held as he waves to the masses. Next comes a paler man with hair tied up in a bun who sits down behind the drum kit and doesn't move much after that. A girl practically sprints to centre stage, scooping up a waiting guitar (or bass?) and strumming down the body appreciatively. She has purple hair, bright and choppy, particularly abrasive against the alabaster white of her skin.

And last on stage… last on stage is Moons.

You move forward suddenly, smacking your face against the plexiglass barrier and biting your cheek for the second time in a week. Used to your mistreatment, the poorly healed skin wastes no time splitting, and the metallic taste of blood makes you cringe.

That's Moons. There are two huge screens either side of the stage that magnify him. First his hand on the microphone, a scar coiling up from his wrist to his thumb purple against his skin. Then his face. You wouldn't forget what he looks like so soon, not when you've half obsessed over him for days with could-be's because he'd wanted to see you and you have a bad habit of inventing future's with people you don't know, but even if you did it wouldn't matter. You've never met anyone else with three scars as he has across his face, taking centre stage.

You hadn't realised the tickets were to see his band. It makes sense, now, why your seat is in such a quiet area, and why the people sitting close by aren't firecracker happy at the sight of them. They must've received their tickets in the same way, gifts or thank yous for small favours.

Your mouth dries as they begin to play. It's not what you're expecting. Of course, you haven't really had time to expect anything, and yet you're shocked when they start to play a slow song. He doesn't really look like a rockstar, but a heartthrob? You can see it easily. The long lengths of his lashes, and the dark honey of his eyes. His smile, so small but somehow piercing.

His voice is careful. He doesn't sing anything impressive —there's no belting or high notes— but you still find yourself wringing your hands together, entranced by his confidence. He dances around the melodies and fills up every space he can find between the beat of the drums and the searing guitar riffs that follow.

They only play five songs. By the time they've finished you're feeling sick to your stomach, and you can't get your heart to calm down. You hadn't known a word of the lyrics, but you'd felt them.

They're good.

Like, too good to be openers for long.

The crowd echoes your sentiment. They clap and scream and wolf whistle. The noise vibrates in the depth of your stomach. The cheering doubles when the headlining band’s techies emerge. The lights go down. Equipment begins to roll out.

You scrounge through your purse for a lip balm and think about heading downstairs to the concession stands for an overpriced bottle of water to wash away the unfortunate tang of blood. It aches to pay, but if you don't soon you might get nauseous, and that would be a real disaster, throwing up here of all places.

You hear his voice before you see him. He's laughing, talking to somebody about the set.

"It was great!" compliments a feminine voice. "I don't know what you were so worried about, Remus, you're really great. And if you weren't, Marl would've saved the day anyways with her gorgeous showmanship."

"Thanks, baby," says a second voice. Marl.

"Thanks, Mary," Moons says.

What had Mary called him? Remus? Odd, not quite as strange as Moons.

You try not to tense as footsteps approach.

"Can I sit?" he asks.

You look up too fast. He's a little damp, the hair closest to his face curled with it, but he smells good as he sits down. He must've washed up.

"I– I've been calling you Moons in my head," you admit, not sure what to say.

He's intimidating. You don't imagine he knows it. He sits in the chair without any fanfare, setting his forearm on the rest between your two seats and turning his face to you completely, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth, almost like he doesn't want to smile but can't help himself. His eyes are the slightest bit lidded, emphasising the brilliance (and unfairness) of his lashes, so thick and dark you wonder if he's wearing makeup.

"You can call me whatever you want to, but my name's Remus. I should've told you that before. I was… distracted."

He isn't being coy, you realise. He easily could be if he wanted to, but he was genuinely lost for words for a second.

"I didn't really tell you mine," you say, hoping to ease his gentle confusion.

He says your name like it's easy. Like he enjoys the sound of it. "Y/N. Do you like music?"

Is that a trick question? His eyes trace up to your eyebrows as they pinch together, but he doesn't amend his question. Not a trick, then.

"I like music,” you say.

"I realise it's brave to ask someone to come and see you on stage. And that I look like a tosser sometimes with the stage lights and makeup."

"No," you say quickly, "you don't. You looked just fine. You looked good. I bet it's hard getting on stage like that, and in front of this many people. And singing. You have a really nice voice."

His eyes soften. "Thank you. Do you wanna go get a drink with me? There's a bar. It's quiet."

Your elbow brushes against his long sleeve. "Yeah." You're not breathless enough to embarrass yourself, but it's a close call.

Remus leads you up and out of the seats. The venue is large in that it has just as many hallways and back rooms as it has places to watch the show. Remus’ warm hand catches your elbow, a friendly touch that guides you around the barrier and through a dimly lit hallway that takes you to the bar.

The bar overlooks the stage, but the sound of the band and the crowd is dampened severely, making for a sorely needed respite. VIP's mill around the room on plush leather sofas and cushy bar stools sipping from sweating glass bottles. Remus' hand moves up to your shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze as a familiar face waves you over.

"Hey, it's you!"

You smile at Remus' motorbike friend. You're a hundred percent sure his name is Sirius, but you won't say it aloud in case you're wrong. Beside him sits the other man you'd seen on stage with them, the guitarist with brown skin and a head full of thick hair. You look between the three of them in secret shock, wondering if handsome attracts handsome or if it's just dumb luck that they ended up together.

"James, this is the babe that found Stacia," Sirius says.

James wrinkles his nose. "Hi," he says, in a voice that sounds deeply apologetic, years of it like the rings of a tree. "How are you?"

"I'm good. Um, and you?"

"I'm good! Thanks, I'm good, it's nice of you to come see us. Did you like the show?"

"Yeah, I did. I had no idea you guys were musicians."

He splits his attention between you and his jacket. He pulls a glasses case out of his pocket, clicks it open, and straightens out a pair of wire frames.

"Couldn't tell from our baby boy's general demeanour?" he asks. "Hey, that's better, I can see you now."

"Sirius is the youngest," Remus says.

"And the handsomest."

"No, Marl's clearly the handsome one," James says lightly.

Sirius takes the rebuttal in good jest and brandishes his drink toward you like a toast. "Want a beer?"

"I'm getting her one," Remus says, "come on, give me a minute here."

Everybody laughs. You laugh too, turning your face into your shoulder to smother the sound.

"Well, come and sit with us, make yourself comfortable," James says, moving his jacket off of the chair in front of you.

Remus makes a small, apprehensive sound. "Drinks first." He looks to you for confirmation. "Yeah. We'll be back."

You follow him to the bar. Your shoes, a pair of dirty converse you wish you'd swapped for heels or something sophisticated, squeal against the hardwood floor. How were you supposed to know you'd see him again tonight? In what world does stuff like this happen to scruffy waitresses? You're starting to think he might be somebody.

Not that it matters if he is or isn't.

But if he is… This is embarrassing, right? Not knowing who he is.

There must be a couple thousand people here tonight. Then again, his band were the opening act, so it doesn't necessarily mean they're all famous or anything.

"Hey," Remus says softly, stopping your thoughts cold. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Sorry. I've never been in here before, anywhere that's like it,” you say.

"Venues are all different but the bars don't change," he says. "What do you like?"

"I'm not a big drinker."

"That's okay. I just wanted an excuse to be alone with you." He doesn't even give you time to recover. "Truth is, I wanted to ask you out. But between shows I couldn't find time, and next week I'm in San Marino."

What you mean to say is, you wanted to ask me out? But instead, you choke, "You're going to Italy?"

Remus pushes a seat out for you, helping you up with a solid hand, and, while your fingers are still warm from his touch, he says, "San Marino isn't Italy. I didn't know that 'til a few months ago. But pretty much."

"What's in San Marino?"

"A wedding." He climbs into the seat next to you, smiling.

The tan colour of his long-sleeves contrasts his pale hands. Your eyes flash to his ring finger. Not his wedding.

Remus isn’t easy to talk to. It's not wholly his fault. He doesn't force conversation, leaving you awkwardly searching for something to say. You're not the best conversationalist either. He clearly doesn't mind it.

You're in the midst of a clumsy retelling of a shitty customer service moment when he tips his head to the left just a touch.

"Maybe we can go on an actual date when I'm home,” he says.

He says it like he's talking about the weather. You'd be worried he was messing with you, but then he smiles again, flicking his index finger against your wrist mildly. "You don't have to answer me now. Finish telling your story."

"It was pretty much finished. And– and I'd like to. Go on a real date. I've never been out of the country, so you'll have to forgive me if I want to know everything about San Marino."

He looks at your lips. Says, "Good," and doesn't give any indication that he's noticed how nervous you are. That is, until he covers your trembling hand with his and presses it flat to the bar.

"You're really pretty," he murmurs. He takes a moment, and he smiles. "Come with me? If I don't give Sirius some attention soon he'll start showing off."

—

James is starting to wonder if he should invite you to San Marino. He's not that stupid; it would be a huge pain if you were standing in the middle of all his wedding photos and you and Remus don't work out. But, while he's certainly and majorly jumping the gun, he has a suspicion he’ll be seeing you again.

James has never seen Remus like this before.

His friend is usually quiet, quipping every now and then perhaps at Sirius' insufferable antagonism but otherwise brooding. He hasn't seen him smile this much, ever.

James is under no illusions — he knows Remus loves him very much. He knows Remus is happy, and not always healthy but managing. He knows Remus is pleased with their lives and ecstatic to have their music take off. But he also knows Remus won't let himself have a good thing, not really. Maybe that's why he's asked you out now, when in a week they'll be in San Marino, and a week after that they'll be in Cardiff to officially start the new tour.

He knows Remus, sweetheart, kind hearted, miraculous Remus, tends to let people down. He's a stickler for asking people out and cancelling the day before. It's how it always goes. James will ask how the date went and Remus will shake his head and say, "it didn’t work out."

He knows Remus doesn't mean to hurt anybody. He just… can't get close.

But he's trying, with you. A glass of cordial in one hand, the other behind your chair, Remus tells you one of his more embarrassing stories about how he'd taken a bad fall and ended up in A&E with half of an eyebrow. He doesn't mention the painkillers that made him woozy.

You've relaxed considerably since sitting down. James would be happy to report that you're having a good time. You have your own drink in hand, and your eyes are bright, with a receding space between your face and Remus' as the story goes on. It's like watching two magnets fight to hold themselves apart.

Matter of time, James thinks to himself smugly.

—

Honesty is important. You admit to yourself that you and Remus aren't exactly a perfect match. Both quiet, both not quite social butterflies, your conversations had occasionally been stilted and slow, but you've only met twice. Things don't have to be perfect, and more than that — there's a spark there. A twinge of a possibility. He'd liked what little he knew about you enough to ask to see you again, and you'd like what little you knew about him in turn to say yes.

It doesn't have to be perfect, you insist to yourself, a bundle of nerves. Nothing does.

He looks pretty perfect. Base of his palm pressed to the brick wall of the cafe, hand angled down as his fingers grasp the neck of a bouquet whose flowers have been shedding petals onto the damp pavement below. He holds his other hand against his chest, clicking buttons on his phone.

You approach from the left and watch him play a game of Snake.

"You play Snake?" you ask.

"Doesn't everybody?" he asks back, his smile softening what might otherwise feel like a chastisement. He doesn't look up from his phone.

"Woah, how long have you been out here?" you ask, eyeing his weirdly long snake.

Remus guides the snake into a wall on purpose. It dies, his high score flashes across the screen, and he aims an apologetic look your way. "Sorry, that was rude." He doesn't try to hide that he's looking over your face. "Thanks for coming."

He leans in and kisses your cheek. Delighted warmth curls in your stomach, worse when he passes you the bouquet of flowers. They've mostly survived his poor treatment, and there's a lot of them. He's left the price tag on and you're not sure if he's noticed. You pretend not to see it.

"Thank you…” You look away from the flowers, all whites and reds and baby’s breath, to ogle him as subtly as you can manage. “Wow, you've caught the sun. Was it lovely in San Marino?"

"I'll tell you all about it over dinner,” he says. “I thought we'd walk, it's not far." He holds out his hand. You wipe your palm against your side before you take it, worried you'll have clammy hands. He must guess, because he says, "Don't be nervous."

"I am," you say hopelessly. "I've never been on a date before."

"This is your first date?"

You feel a hot flush coming on. "I– yeah. That's embarrassing, I shouldn't have told you that."

"No, it's a good thing. Now I know it has to be extra special."

"It doesn't," you say.

"I was hoping it would be." He pulls you down the pavement and further into the city centre toward the main high street. "San Marino. It was beautiful, and I took a couple of photos but I didn't have room on my phone. Well, I could've deleted Snake–"

"Why would you?" you joke, grinning.

He laughs, and squeezes your hand slightly. "Exactly. I have priorities. It's a long flight, and looking over the photos can only take up so much time. No, but it really was… it was beautiful. I'd never given much thought to a destination wedding. They make sense, right? It's the best day of your life, why would you have it here?"

He tilts his chin toward the grey sky. You look up with him, feeling the cold wind kiss the sides of your face and pull through your hair.

"Come on, Remus, it's not that bad. If it's sun you're after, you could just wait for British summer time. You know, the whole three days of it."

He laughs — you've made him laugh twice already. This is going okay. Laughing while looking at one another, a bouquet in one hand and his hand in the other, you feel that curl of delight begin to bloom. It fills your insides up, has you smiling until your eyelashes brush in the corners.

"It was James' wedding. Do you remember which one that was?"

He asks so kindly. You don't doubt for a second that he wouldn't care if you forgot. It's refreshing, even if it's something you'd expect.

"I remember. I didn't realise he was getting married."

"Don't ever say that in front of him, he'll put himself on the cross." He swings your hand as you turn a corner. The Italian restaurant you'd agreed on winks from a distance.

"He's devoted," you guess.

"He's insane. He was worse when we were younger. His girlfriend– his wife," he amends, "Lily, she's really something else. Warm and funny, but she's been keeping him on his toes for years. She has family in San Marino, hence the wedding."

You listen to him talk eagerly. His voice is as handsome as his face, and the more he says the less stilted he becomes. There had been a strained quality to it before (strained, or restrained? something he wasn't saying) that's all but disappeared.

"It was like a movie. White linen, sand, crying."

"Did you cry?" you ask, expecting a puffed up chest.

"So much. Too much, maybe. I was half of the best man."

"Half?"

"We had to share, me and Sirius. They've always been…" Remus slows his steps. "Am I being boring? I'm talking too much about me."

"We have time. I want to hear it. I'd like to hear it," you say.

James and Sirius are brothers. Remus sees your surprised look and doesn't condemn you for it. Sirius is unofficially adopted. The Potter's fostered him from ages thirteen until he aged out, and though they tried to adopt him, Sirius was reluctant. Remus doesn't get into the reasons beyond that, and you don't ask. You suspect he's only telling you about it to drive home how much the Potter's love Sirius. How much James does.

Remus had been Sirius' friend from their very first year of comprehensive school. Sirius moved in with the Potter's, and, adoring as they were, they let him have friends over whenever he liked. James, Sirius, and Remus spent the next decade together like that, hiding in Sirius' room. Best friends, entirely inseparable, and all fiercely protective of each other.

"They've always been like brothers."

"But not…"

He understands what you're worried to say. "I think it would've been weird… I had a candle burning for James. For a long time."

Your jaw drops a little. "And you just had to watch him have the most romantic wedding ever," you whisper sympathetically. You're joking: it's clear the candle isn't burning now.

"Told you I cried," he says. "No, but you've seen him. He's a supermodel. It's awful."

"Remus, I think you might be underestimating how handsome you are," you say. You bite your lip and look at his chin rather than his eyes.

He's generous. He gives your wrist a tug and chuckles warmly. "I'm glad you think so. Tonight might have been awkward, otherwise."

You duck together inside of the restaurant, hands falling apart as Remus gives his last name for the reservation. Lupin. Your face has a mind of its own.

"Charming, isn't it?"

"It is," you say emphatically, denying his sarcasm. "I've never heard anything like that. Lupine, like a fox?"

"Wolf."

A server shows you to your table and hands you two leather covered menus. Leather, not plastic, a sign that tonight is going to be classy. You've dressed for the occasion in a smart blouse and slacks, too terrified of wearing a dress. Remus seems to have done the same as you, reaching for smart but dodging the mark in a button down and a casual jacket. When he takes off his coat, he looks perfect. He fits right in.

"Could we get a glass?" he asks the server. "For the flowers? If it's not too much trouble."

"No trouble at all."

You run your hand across the silken tablecloth and the space between you both feels somehow smaller than when you'd been holding hands. Outside, you could let your gaze drift to the pavement, the fenced in trees, the couples that passed you by. Here, you're forced to watch one another.

It's not so bad. It's agonising.

"This is weird," you say. You flinch when you hear yourself. "Sorry, not that you're weird! I'm weird. I've never ever done this."

"No, I know," he says, almost murmuring, "it's okay."

"I just blurted out what I was thinking–"

"I know." He sits back in his chair. His head tilts down, his eyelashes kissing the skin above his brows as he fixes you with a look. It has the intended effect, tension easing from your rigid spine and tight shoulders. "This is weird. But it's still early. It could get weirder."

You like that he says it as if it's a good thing.

You order the same thing he does, and you don't turn down his offer to get a bottle of wine, though it feels too grown up. You keep forgetting you're an adult, and that your life isn't on hold. Things can happen to you at any time.

"I want to address the elephant in the room," he says.

Not promising. "Okay."

"Are we having dessert?" Remus leans forward on both forearms. Hair falls in his eyes. He's dressed nicely and he's handsome but there's something homespun about him, something golden. You can't help looking at him and thinking impossibly forward thoughts, cheesy waffle from the films. He's familiar. "Nobody ever wants to get dessert with me. It's actually a real issue for me."

"I'll get dessert with you." A smoother you with more confidence, who wore the dress and asked him to go to the Thai restaurant instead, would've said something more suave. We're having whatever you want, handsome.

Remus flips the menu to the very last page and reads the desserts aloud. For himself, it seems, half-muttered and apprehensive. "Chocolate cake from places like this will either be the nicest thing we've ever eaten or burnt in the microwave. And it's childish that I want chocolate cake. I should be spoon feeding you creme brulee. Or whipped cream and strawberries."

He tips his head back and rubs his eyes. It's a charade of feigned self loathing that makes you laugh.

"I'm a child," he laments, thumb and index finger pressed into his eyes. He checks to see if you're watching before doubling down.

"I like cake," you say, and you'd lie if you thought it was what he wanted to hear. Handsome, kind, and funny. Not to mention talented. He needs smart for the sweep.

Remus falls out of his dramatics. You mourn the loss, beggy a good look on him, but forget all about it when he slides his chair around the table to share the menu with you, your heads inclined as you read it together again. He smells woody. You hope he likes the jasmine of your perfume.

"It all sounds really nice," you confide, afraid to disturb the comfortable hush. "I haven't had gelato since I was a kid. Oh, did they have real gelato in San Marino?"

“They had a lot of stuff in San Marino… I want to hear about you.”

“What do you want to hear?”

The questions start and don’t stop. Where did you grow up? That’s the easy part. What did you study in school? Were you in sports? The art club? And what do you do now, when you aren’t working in the cafe? The more he asks, the easier it is to answer. He doesn’t slow when the waiter brings a glass for your bouquet, simply stands and places them inside with exceedingly gentle hands, smiling at you from between the stems. You eat slowly when the food arrives — you're busy talking.

It feels fucking amazing. To have someone want to know anything about you. And unless he’s an actor of the highest regard, he’s obviously enjoying your conversations, though they wilt and wane and wind around one another. You lose track of time and thread as the night goes on, distracted by the near unnoticeable asymmetry of his smile, and the way he laughs when you laugh, like an echo.

You get cake like he wanted. Triple fudge cake with buttercream thick but melting from the heat. It looks straight from the pages of a magazine, glossy and dusted with sugar powder, but he doesn’t seem to like it. He takes a couple of bites and leaves it alone. You don’t want to look greedy, so you do the same.

The date is suddenly over.

“Could I walk you home?” he asks, when you’ve both put your coats back on, and the damp roots of your flowers are leaving an imprint on your chest.

You nod rather than answer.

Things are good, not perfect. That’s what you keep thinking. There’s something he isn’t saying. Or, horrifyingly, something he doesn’t like about you. Still, the sky is velvet black and the air is crisp. Stars like needlepoints dot the air. Street lights work to hide them, casting a warm yellow glow over the pavements and your meandering shoes.

A brisk wind whips past you. You shiver and press your lips together hard, hands quick to rigidity. Remus looks at you sideways, and breaks the quiet. “Are you cold?”

“A little.” No point in lying when he can see you trembling.

“Do you want my coat?”

“No, no, it’s alright–“ You cut off as he steps in front of you, his hand vying for yours.

He tucks the flowers under his arm and sandwiches your fingers between his. He has short fingernails, and another scar down one pinky finger. How’d you get that one? you want to ask. How’d you get any of them?

His breath clouds the air. “I should’ve thought about the cold.”

“This is better,” you say. Than a warm taxi home. His thumbs brushing down the backs of your hands.

You walk to your flat building and hesitate at the foyer door. The potential for a kiss goodnight has flayed your thoughts. The image of his hands climbing your arms, holding you still, plays like a flickering film. You have no idea if he’s going to do it.

“How will you get home?” you ask quietly.

“I parked by the cafe, it isn’t far.”

“Oh…” The lights from your building paint him the faintest shade of pink. Your breath fogs out in front of you, as does his, and the warmth of walking will soon fade. “I–“

“Here,” he says, handing you the flowers again.

“Thank you. They’re beautiful.”

“Fits the recipient.”

It takes a second for you to get it. Oh, you think. You can hardly feel the cold now. Your heart hurts, and you’re begging him to want to take a step toward you. The silence goes for too long.

“I– I’d love to see you again,” you say. Love comes out funny. Maybe because you can feel his rejection coming.

“I won’t be here next week. Not for a long time. We’re touring properly, now.” He scratches the side of his face.

“Right. Right, of course you are. Um, good luck with that. And thank you for tonight, for dinner.” You wave your flowers weakly.

He looks at you. He takes a half step toward you. You can see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows.

“You really are pretty,” he says finally. “Goodnight.”

He smiles quick and turns quicker. You watch him walk a few steps but ultimately can’t face it, pushing into the foyer of your building with a hardset frown. Your hands shake, minute abstractions of the sharp rejection panging in your chest. Your ears roar and then go quiet. What did I do wrong? you think, shocked and upset and trying to rationalise. He doesn’t have to kiss you. He asked you out on a maybe, and now whatever question he had is answered.

The door creaks open. You spin on your heel, too wrapped up to think about hiding your expression. Remus stands in the doorway of the porch, his arm pressed to the glass panel, the other held out to you.

"Come here," he says quietly. It isn't a question, but he's asking.

You step into his reach, letting him pull you by the waist against his chest. He leans down until his nose glances against ýours, and he starts to say something. You push your chin up in your eagerness and he doesn't try again. He kisses you, once, contrite, and he pulls back and his hand clasps your arm tight as he ducks in for another. His lips are fast to lose the cold of the weather, but his tongue is a hot shock at the seam of your own.

You go weak in his arms. The flowers between you crunch and smother themselves. You can’t think about it. Your hands are numb. He takes over every one of your senses until you’re more kiss than thought, reciprocating his slow, deep searching. You run out of breath.

He eases you backward, cupping the side of your head in his big palm.

“I want to see you again,” he says hoarsely. “But I– I don’t know when I’ll be back.” His hand adjusts against your cheek, like he’s worried you’re slipping out of his hold. “I don’t know what to do.”

“I can wait,” you say.

“I couldn’t ask you to.”

You rub your buzzing lips together, each heaven of your chest marked by the crinkling sound of cellophane.

“Do you want to come upstairs?” you ask.

He strokes the edge of your mouth with his thumb. “Are you sure?”

You kiss him. You don’t know if this will work, any of it, the broad stroke or this one night, but you want him.

—

Remus doesn’t know what he’s doing. He knows how to fuck somebody, that isn’t the problem. He doesn’t know what he’s doing with you. The same thing that made him walk away had pulled him right back in, had him skipping steps on the staircase up to your flat, drinking in the back of your head and roll of your shoulders as you’d made apologies for the mess inside.

He doesn’t feel like himself when he’s with you. He thinks of it like this — what he is, his pain, his wants, that’s all set in stone. Any change is an erosion, and little by little over the years he’s managed to whittle himself down into the smallest, cleanest version of himself. Then suddenly the band’s making money, people are listening to his voice on the radio in countries all over the world, and he can’t hide anymore. Maybe he hadn’t wanted to, after all. What else inspires a performer into the spotlight? The music, he thinks desperately, knowing it’s half a lie.

Isn’t it why he’d asked you to the show? Come and watch me sing. See me at my most impressive. My most curated.

And now he’s following you into your bedroom after one date, about to strip it all away.

“You didn’t have too much wine, did you?” he asks. You hadn’t really finished your first glass, but it won’t hurt to make sure.

You peel your jacket off and drop it over the back of a wide armchair. “I don’t think so. Did you?”

“No.” His head has never been this clear.

He thinks about what you said. This is your first date, and he’s not clueless enough to assume that never going on a date means never having sex, but he wants to be careful with you anyway. He wants this to last beyond a dinner date.

Which means he has to get out of his head.

Beyond all of his own mess, he really does think you're pretty. More than pretty. You’re beautiful, and your voice…

He wants to see what other sounds you make.

Remus gets his hands on you. Soft touches, his hands coasting from your elbows to your warming hands. He squeezes your fingers, leaning in for a quick kiss. He rests his nose against the skin beneath your eye. “Tell me if it’s too much?” he asks, a murmur of hot air.

“Yeah.”

“I’ll go slowly.”

“Okay.” Your voice is barely audible.

He pulls away to make sure you’re alright, and is surprised to see a glassy sheen in your eyes. He holds your face in both hands and works your lips open against his, guiding you backwards into the plush of your poorly made bed. He’s all sweet touches and eager kisses, cautious not to hurt you, or let too much of his weight press against your soft torso. His kisses follow to the corner of your mouth, the tip of his nose tender against your cheek. “You’re so quiet,” he says. He isn’t complaining, but he wants to hear your voice.

“I’m a bit preoccupied.”

He laughs into your skin, kissing down to your jaw. “You’re right,” he says, revelling in the goosebumps that rise under his hands.

Your shaking inhales cleave a pit in his stomach. He mouths at the side of your neck, half-kisses, tiny warning nips before he thumbs open the first button of your shirt. He meanders, dropping a path crescent moon kisses into your front until the fabric of your bra gets in the way. The soft hill of your breast staggers to a halt beneath him. He can tell that you’re holding deliberately still.

Kisses. You need more kisses, an absolution from any lingering nervousness. Your hands thread into his hair gently, your fingers raking wavy strands behind his ears as you give in. You melt into your sheets, your legs parting from the pressure of his hips.

Your hands fall from his hair to needle between your two bodies and undo the rest of your buttons. The fabric falls aside, your chest and tummy his to catalogue. He drops his hand against your stomach, smoothing a line down to your slacks. His lips ache against yours as he asks, “Can I?”

“Please.”

He smiles at your daunted expression. “Can I take these off?” he asks you, his fingertip running under the edge of your underwear. “Please?” he teases.

Your skin is a furnace, hot hot hot everywhere he touches as you nod your permission and Remus undresses you, one piece of clothing at a time. Your trousers, your shirt. Your bra, your underwear. His fingers slip in his ardency as he tears out of his own button down.

Your thumb traces a scar.

He looks up from your chest, startled, but you aren’t giving him anything he doesn’t want. There’s no pity in your gaze, no curiosity, no sadness. Just lust, your trembling hands pulling his slacks down the lengths of his thighs.

He pulls the condom from his wallet in his pocket and lets it fall to the floor.

Remus hooks his hands under your arms and urges you back against the headboard, a pillow behind your head, your thighs tipping open as his hand runs down between them. He grabs at them greedily, handfuls of fat that have his mouth dry as a bone.

“Has anyone ever done this to you before?” he asks. He needs to know.

You squeeze your eyes closed and shake your head.

Fuck. “Hey, look at me,” he says, waiting for your eyes to meet before continuing. “I just want to make you feel good. If I don’t, you let me know.”

He waits for you to answer aloud. “I will,” you say, your hand behind his back and urging him forward. “Please.”

“What did I say?” he jokes gently, letting his weight bear down on you again.

He closes his eyes, his lips in what feels like a new home at the juncture of your neck. His hands skirt dangerously close to your heat.

He’s gentle. He rubs a sweeping line against your cunt with the front of his fingers, heart hammering fast as a mouse’s when he finds the little button of your clit. You shiver and shudder and squirm as he toys with you, your fingers steadfast against the plane of his back while he opens you up. His lips part in tandem, not nearly as kind as his hands. His teeth scratch against your throat.

Your soft moans move through him as he hickeys over your pulse, chasing each capering thud of blood. He winds you up. You’re snug around his fingers, fluttering, and he knows he’s probed something sweet when your breath catches and you whine.

“Was that alright?” he asks.

You nod, heavy headed, and lick your lips as he tears open the condom and eases it onto his cock, one measured roll at a time.

“Can you– I want you to–” You turn your face from him, the line of your jaw kissed by the lamplight outside, and the rest hidden.

He drags you down to lay flat on your back and holds himself over you, nudging his nose against yours until you lift your head. Face to face, he gives himself time to adore the shape and colour of your eyes, the side of his hand brushing along your cheek. “Do you think you’re ready?” he asks sincerely. The slickness between your legs is obvious, but he doesn’t want to blindside you. “It will feel…”

You nod, saving him the explanation. It will feel weird. Good, but foreign. “Will you kiss me again?” you ask feebly.

He can’t stop himself. He kisses your lips sore, his hand behind the crook of your knee pushing your leg up toward your stomach as he slides into the space he’s made there. He breaks the kiss to listen to your breathing as he pushes forward.

Remus hadn’t been lying — he wants it to feel good. He takes it slow, his thrusting almost languid as you get to grips with the feeling. He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and bites down hard, struggling to smother the moan that escapes him as he feels you clench around him. You gasp, your arms tightening around his waist, destroying any semblance of space between your sweat-damp bodies as you hold him tight. He murmurs praises in your ear, his forearms tucked beneath your shoulder blades, hands gripping your shoulders a touch too hard. He can’t remember the last time he was this close to somebody, can’t remember ever feeling so maddeningly lost, like he’s one good push from hurtling over the edge.

He kisses your cheek, calling you all the things he’d been too scared to say before. “Lovely girl,” he pants, “how’s that feel?” And, when you answer, “Yeah, you’re taking it so well, dove. Think you can take a little more?”

All that nervousness and desperation shrinks down to dust, and the smiling girl he’d been with at dinner comes to the forefront. There’s no mistaking it. You giggle something awful and turn your face into his, kissing him between sounds, dizzying him with the tender scratch of your nails down his back as he starts to move.

“There she is,” he says lightly, almost smirking. “Feel good?”

“Feels– oh,” —you shiver violently, filled all the way up— “feels good.”

Remus let’s his forehead fall to your chin, his eyes closed in pleasure, his cock to the hilt. Every move he makes evokes a near sinful sound from you, mewling, silvery whimpers and pleased little laughs when he angles his hips right. He’s a mess, desperate to cum from the second you touched him and running on stolen time as he presses you deep into your mattress. One of your hands flies backward into the pillows and scrunches up into a ball, the look on your face too tempting to ignore.

The first time you fuck someone — it’s never timed right. Remus knows he hasn’t quite figured you out, but he knows enough to get you where he wants you. He slides his hand between your bodies and your soft cunt to draw circles into your clit, entranced by your twitching lashes as the pleasure builds. You chase him with your hips, and he grabs your hand at the last second to stop you from covering your mouth, holding it above your head as you come apart.

He cooes at you. The sound you make — the breathless little cry that leaves you, your hips jutting up to meet him. He’s at your mercy, just like he said.

Remus fucks into the extra tightness, drawing your climax out for as long as he can. You’re smiling as you shove his arm away, a playful chastisement that wanes when you see the look on his face. “Are you close?” you ask, brushing a curled strand of hair from his eyes.

Close? Remus is fucked.

“You can go faster,” you say, “rougher, whatever you want.”

“Shit,” he hisses, leaning back.

His rutting hips slap the backs of your thighs. He squeezes your waist, his eyes fixed on your cunt as it pulls him in. One last wavering, “Oh, fuck,” from you is all it takes for Remus to lose it. White hot pleasure tightens his whole body, his abdomen aflame. You scramble to gather him back into your arms. You kiss him, swallowing his resulting string of moans.

He has to catch his breath afterward. You comb the hair back from his face, your eyes droopy with pleasure.

“Did I hurt you?” he asks, voice stringy.

“Of course not.” You’re quickly losing your confidence. Remus hates it, but he understands. This vulnerability can only stretch so far.

“Let me clean you up,” he says.

“You look like you’re gonna fall over if you stand.”

He strokes your face with the back of his ring finger, his nail ghosting along the highest point of your cheek. “Funny,” he says dryly.

He gets confused in your bathroom, and you won’t let him towel you off, but when he lies down beside you with his boxers back in place you don’t push him away. You drop your face into his chest and curl up.

He drags the quilt over your naked back.

Was that okay? he wants to ask. “Sore?” he worries instead.

“Don’t think so.”

He chews his cheek. “You’re alright?”

You stir, looking up at him through your lashes. He thinks you’re the kind of pretty people might not always see. You’re clearly beautiful, but there’s something else to it. The way you move, maybe. The way your eyes smile before your lips can catch up.

“I’m fine. I’m good… Can I…”

He hums. “What?”

“Could I kiss you again?”

You speak so quietly, he hears the vibration in your throat more than the sound of your voice. It’s endearingly timid. He feels his attraction for you flare violently.

He wants to ask you to come with him to Cardiff. He knows he can’t. It’s yards too soon, but for a second he entertains the thought.

“Wait for me to come home,” he says. He’s still asking for more than he should. “I want to see you again. You can kiss me as much as you want, if you say you’ll wait.”

You nod immediately. Not a flicker of reluctance to be seen.

You lift your chin and kiss him. He tries to make it the kind of kiss worth waiting for.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thank you for reading! i hope you enjoyed! if you did, please consider reblogging cos it helps more than you might think <3

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thefiery-phoenix · 1 year ago

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PLATONIC YANDERE POTTER FAMILY X READER X WEASLEY FAMILY

In this AU, Harry's parents are well alive

You'd most probably meet the Potter family first before meeting the Weasley family and I have a feeling that they'd be friends with each other. You'd meet the Potter family on the day Harry was going to Hogwarts, James did have quite a legacy at Hogwarts for being one of the best Quidditch seekers the Gryffindor Quidditch team ever had. Harry was looking forward to follow in his footsteps and the two of you met at the Kings' Cross Station. Your parents couldn't come with you to drop you off because they had an important business meeting with some client in Switzerland and they left you with your aunt who only dropped you off at the station and took off almost immediately, leaving you all by yourself surrounded with complete strangers. You've never been to Kings' Cross Station before and you had no idea where in the name of Merlin was platform 9 3/4. You've asked the Station master nearby and he thought you were just messing with him and pranking him which was why he just shooed you away

You were at a loss, you didn't know what to do and whom to contact, it wasn't like you were given an official guide as to where the platform was. You started panicking, thinking that the Hogwarts Express would be leaving without you any minute and you'd miss your wonderful chance to go to Hogwarts. You couldn't help but blink back a few tears of frustration as you felt that the situation was spinning out of control. You sighed and sat down on a bench for a moment to think about what to do next. You spotted a family of 3, a young boy of your age wearing glasses with a scar on his head, along with his parents, a man who resembled the boy's appearance, his father perhaps and his mother with hair as Red as the autumn leaves were accompanying their son with his trolley. "Blimey Harry, can't believe you're going to Hogwarts. Time does fly by fast" said James dramatically as he wiped his fake tears away

His wife, Lily glared at him and whispered "Shh... what if someone hears?" "It'll be all right, muggles don't know a damn thing about platform 9 and 3 quarters and Hogwarts and all that" he waved airily as they walked past you. An idea suddenly formed and took shape in your head as you followed them and when you finally caught up to them, you spoke "Umm... hi there, good morning. I was wondering if you could please direct me to where platform 9 and 3 quarters is...I know it exists, I just can't find it..." you finished with a forlorn look on your face as they stared at you in amazement for a moment and they had a silent discussion with each other through their eyes. You were indeed, one of them. "Don't worry dear, we'll help you. Where are your parents though?" enquired Lily as you replied "They're in Switzerland at the moment" "Oh...who came to drop you off then?" asked James as you answered "My aunt. She had some work to do back at her law firm. She's a lawyer so... it's just me by myself" you laughed slightly as they felt sad. Even though they just met you, Harry could already sense you were a bit upset and sad about something, the way your eyes had that wistful and wishful lost look in them, James and Lily didn't think too kindly about your aunt and your parents either at the moment

Attending Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry and boarding the Hogwarts Express for the very first time was a magical once in a lifetime experience which would be memorable in one's life. How could your so called family just abandon you like that without even taking the time off from their work to even see you off properly? And did your family not care about your safety at all? What about all the dangerous and unknown strangers lurking around? The society and world these days isn't really that safe you know especially for sweet little things such as yourself. They decided to accompany you and show you the ropes as you tagged along with them and felt grateful that you'd finally catch your train in time

You noticed Harry's scar and when you asked him how he got it, he just had a sheepish smile on his face and replied "I was trying to catch a snitch at the Diagon Alley on my broom and I accidentally crash landed at Borgin and Burkes near Knockturn alley. The owner wasn't really that pleased with me when I smashed some of his stuff but the incident did kind of catch on with the other witches and wizards from the magical world. Some thought it was amusing and they think I'll follow in my dad's footsteps to become a great seeker like him" "What's a seeker?" you asked him with a confused and bewildered expression on your face. He stared at you for a moment and then it dawned upon him that you could have spent your life living with muggles and you probably had no idea what he was talking about. However no matter, he'd show you and teach you everything

You guys reached the platform just in time and you thanked them for their help as Lily hugged you and smiled "Enjoy yourself dear. Stay safe and have fun but don't get into any trouble" your heart warmed at her words, it was the sort of advice a mother would give to her child before sending them off into the real world all by themselves. You nodded as you boarded the train with Harry, saying your farewell and goodbyes to the Potter family. James and Lily couldn't get you off their minds for some reason, they were concerned with your safety and wondered if you were being treated well at home. Perhaps they'd better write to Harry after he reached Hogwarts to check up on you and update them about you. Just to be safe

You were talking with Harry and your conversation was interrupted when a ginger haired boy around your age dressed in black robes, with freckles on his face peeked in and spoke "Excuse me, do you mind? Everyone else's is full..." "Not at all" replied Harry as he motioned for the guy to take a seat in front of him. "I'm Ron by the way. Ron Weasley" he introduced himself as Harry introduced himself and you introduced yourself as well. The three of you were engaged in discussions when the sliding door opened again and this time, a girl with brown hair asked if any of you had seen a toad, a boy named Neville had lost one. The three of you said you hadn't spotted a toad and when she saw the wand in Ron's hand, she spoke "Oh, you're doing magic? Let's see it then" with an interested look on her face. Ron glanced at the two of you nervously but composed himself as he straightened his posture and uttered a spell which you were pretty sure wasn't even real because instead of turning his pet rat Scabbers yellow, he just made it frightened and it started scampering around everywhere till he finally managed to calm it down

The girl introduced herself as Hermione Granger and she disappeared after she told you three to change into your robes. You finally reached Hogwarts after a few hours and you were speechless by the magnificence and splendor before you. It looked exactly like the sort of castles in your bedtime stories your mother used to read for you when you were little, before she wasn't too preoccupied with her work and had time for you. You went along with the other first years led by a giant of a man named Hagrid who you thought was quite nice and friendly. Then the head of the Gryffindor house, Minerva McGonagall who was also the Transfiguration professor gave you all some background information about the houses

"Slytherin is filled with dark wizards and witches. And crackpots too" whispered Ron to you and you felt nervous, you didn't want to get sorted into Slytherin and lose your new friends. Professor McGonagall then asked you all to wait for a few moments as she needed to get some things ready for the sorting ceremony and as soon as she left, a blonde haired guy spoke "So it's true then, the sayings on the train... Harry Potter has come to Hogwarts" as everyone looked at him in surprise and muttered among themselves. "This is Crabbe and Goyle. And I'm Malfoy... Draco Malfoy" as he introduced himself and Ron snickered in a not so subtle manner. Of course Draco heard it and wasn't really pleased with his reaction as he sneered at him. " You think my name's funny do you? There's no need to ask yours... red hair, a hand me down robe... you must be a Wealsey..." as he turned back to Harry and spoke "You'll have to know by now that there are some Wizarding families that are better than the others Potter. You're a part of the Sacred 28 after all,you don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort..." and glared at Ron again

You barely knew Malfoy for 5 minutes when you intervened "I'm sorry, what exactly makes a family a part of the Sacred 28? And Harry can make his decisions for himself. Of course, if you were a part of a Sacred family, your values and morals would be decent as well. Else you wouldn't be insulting people right off the bat as soon as you meet them". Some of the first years around you 'ooohed' when you said that as Malfoy's face grew hot and red with anger as he snarled "Stay out of this. No one asked you for your opinion" and you just rolled your eyes in response. Harry and Ron stared in amazement at your courage as Hermione was observing the scene from a distance away. It was your first day at Hogwarts and you were already getting ready to fight? She looked on rather disapprovingly but part of her admired your courage and loyalty for your friends by standing up for them. Which was why she also gripped her wand in her pockets just in case she could pull it out if the situation got out of hand. She didn't want anything happening to you for some reason

It was time for the sorting at long last, the moment you've been waiting for and Harry, Ron and Hermione were sorted into the Gryffindor house whereas Malfoy was sorted into the Slytherin house. The sorting hat was placed on top of your head and it muttered "Hmm.... interesting. Very very interesting...." as you nervously looked up at it and asked "What is?" "In all my years of sorting students into houses, you're truly something. You have bravery, courage and loyalty, fit to be a Gryffindor and yet, that cheek, determination and lots and lots of ambition to make you a Slytherin. Plenty of brains, the curiosity and hunger for knowledge is in there as well, you'd do well in Ravenclaw. You're also kind hearted and have the good old nature that Helga Hufflepuff was talking about...hmm... where to put you?" it asked you

It was quite an interesting predicament because never before did anyone see the sorting hat have trouble sorting someone into a house. Everyone looked at you with bated breath as you could feel everyone's eyes on you which made you a bit conscious of yourself but you tried your best to ignore the feeling. The headmaster, Albus Dumbledore was watching you quite closely as professor Snape, the Potions professor seemed interested as well. After a few moments of deliberation, the sorting hat finally sorted you into Gryffindor which you felt relieved about. Harry, Ron and Hermione felt immensely glad that you were in the same house along with them. You felt an exhilarating feeling course through your body when everyone clapped for you as you joined the Gryffindor table. You were introduced to the Wealsey siblings present there, Percy Wealsey, the third oldest who was the Gryffindor prefect, Fred and George the twins who were overly fond of pranking people and you made a mental note to not get on their bad side. The last thing you needed was to wake up with horns on your head or something or a tail for that matter

Harry, Ron, Hermione and you became fast friends pretty quick but you refused to talk with them when they didn't include you in the quest for the Philosopher's stone. It broke their hearts but it was for your own good,you couldn't be put in danger like that. They cared for you too much and it drove them crazy when you ignored them or just glared at them angrily and stormed off. You finally softened a bit towards them when they said that they didn't want to put you in danger and they just wanted you to be safe. You started hanging out with them again as usual and they were elated, the days you refused to even spare them a second glance was utter torture for them. Harry, Ron and Hermione were like your three overprotective shadows, always around you no matter what. They've appointed themselves as your official caretakers and grew possessive and obsessive of you really quick

Harry wrote to his parents about you regularly as Ron did to his parents as well. During Christmas your parents forgot to send you your Christmas presents and you felt heartbroken. Harry, Ron and Hermione were mad as hell so they pitched in and got you some treats from the Great Hall and a few Christmas goodies of your own like a journal from Hermione, a cute quill set from Ron and from Harry, a book he thought you might be interested to read along with an encouraging note from all three of them. Of course they've mentioned to their parents that you haven't received any gifts for Christmas and you've received dozens of parcels from the Potter family and the Wealsey family, even though you hardly knew them. But they knew everything about you, more than you could know about yourself. You've received puddings, Tarts, cakes, pastries, sweaters, a maroon jumper with a W stitched on it and a snowglobe with a cute tiny snowman inside it. You felt grateful for their presents and sad at the same time for your own parents and family forgetting about you just like that

You were even more crushed when your parents said that they needed to go to France for a work conference and your aunt would be preoccupied with a huge case in the muggle world which meant you couldn't go back home. You were pretty devastated when you were invited by Ron to spend time with his family as Harry stated that his parents would join them at the Weasley's house for a couple of days. You agreed and upon reaching the Wealsey house, you could feel the warmth and homely feeling the atmosphere radiated. It certainly did give off homely vibes. You wished your family was also like this. You were introduced to Molly, who hugged you and spoke "So you're the famous Y/N my Ronald keeps talking about all the time... it's so nice to finally meet you dear" as Ron heatedly yelled out "MUM!" as Fred and George snickered in the background, whispering about how Ron was a simp for you as he told them to shut up

You were even introduced to Arthur Weasley, the father of Ron and the other Wealsey siblings who worked at the Ministry of magic, Bill Weasley who worked as a curse breaker at Gringotts the Wizarding bank in Egypt, Charlie Wealsey who worked with dragons in Romania which you found extremely fascinating. There was also young Ginny Weasley, who'd be starting Hogwarts next year. She was shy at first but she really opened up to you and she had fun being around you. The Weasley family loved and enjoyed your presence, it felt like you were part of their family already

Percy could see you becoming a head boy/ girl or prefect and he wanted to become your guide but Fred and George kept stealing you away to their room to show you their latest inventions. They loved it when your eyes sparkle and light up in curiosity, they feel proud when you take in interest in their inventions as do the other Wealseys when you enquired about their hobbies and pastimes. Molly wouldn't even let you step out of the house when it was time for De- gnoming the garden, she didn't want you getting injured and everyone agreed that it would be best for you if you'd stayed in while they'd take care of the business

A few days later James and Lily showed up at the Burrow and greeted you warmly as all of you sat down together and discussed various things over some nice hot steaming bowls of soup and a scrumptious feast laid out by Molly and Lily. When you were asked about your love life by Ginny, you literally choked on your soup as Molly patted you on the back and James handed you a glass of water. "Ginevra, that isn't a question for the dinner table" said Molly with a death stare as everyone present there became very interested in what you had to say. "Believe it or not, some guy from our Potions class, Troy Mullers asked me out for Valentine's day" "What did you say?" asked Hermione as everyone felt that sudden protective urge to make sure you were safe by all means necessary, even if it meant getting that Troy schmuck out of the way. They won't stand for someone to romantically court you, you were too kind and innocent to have your heart and feelings being taken for a ride by some random immature guy you barely even knew

"I... I rejected him. He wasn't happy about it and he called me all sorts of mean names but... it's not something I'm not used to" you shrugged it off as they all felt anger course through their veins. Who dared to make you sad and upset by calling you mean names and hurt your feelings? In fact Charlie was ready to send a Hungarian Horntail after them and Fred and George would send them Howlers after Holwers and packages with explosive Dungbombs from Zonkos, the Wizarding joke shop that go off as soon as you open the parcel. They were seething and they all came to a single conclusion, you had to be taken under their care for your own good. And judging by the way your so called family was treating you, you wouldn't want to be spend more time with them anymore which was a huge favor for them. Besides, what good is a family if they can't take care of you? Don't worry dear, they'll look after you and care for you like their very own. You've become a part of their families now whether you wanted to or not and it's like they say, family ALWAYS comes first...

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empress-simps · 7 months ago

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Close To Me

Pairing: Bodyguard! Marauders x Fem! Reader, Bodyguard! Sirius x Fem! Reader AU: Bodyguard AU / Muggle AU CW: Reader getting kidnapped. Sirius getting injured. Note: This might be the longest one shot I have written so far, this is also my first time writing an action-ish fic? So please do keep it in mind, some parts may be inaccurate.. I also published this at 12 midnight lol. Enjoy!(2.5k words)

You always thought it was a tad bit excessive.

Being the sole heir to a vast family fortune meant that you had the finest thing you could ever want in your life; it also meant that you had the finest protection. Your father handpicked every staff member that was assigned to protect and care for you- going as far as doing not just a background check on them, but also their entire family. Doing a bunch of psychology and loyalty tests were also a must so it was rest assured that they would do their job.

Having one bodyguard? Understandable. Two? Oh, alright just some precautions. Three? That sounds... very safe. Four? Now, that's where you draw the line.

Sure, being born with a golden spoon is great- wonderful, even; but you felt like you were trapped.

You wanted to live life like any other normal human being, away from assassination or kidnapping attempts that were made in your life. So, mustering up every courage you have, you stormed into your father’s study to try and persuade him to just at least assign one to watch over you.

It was expected, you failed.

Now you were stuck with four goofballs bodyguards who would protect you with their life.

James Potter- the strategist. He could sense danger from miles away and best believe that a safe escape plan for you was already formulated if ever things went south.

Remus Lupin- the mediator. He has the ability to appear calm and composed even in the face of danger. Remus saved you more than once just from his voice and words.

Peter Pettigrew- the tech wizard. He’s the one responsible for surveillance, turning any kind of technology into a means of protecting you.

And then there was Sirius Black, the jack of all trades. When your father chose the top candidate, it was him. He was an exceptionally skilled fighter, good with weapons, fast and light reflexes, can speak multiple languages (mainly French), and over all just a well-rounded protector.

Being born into a family with a long tradition and a reputation for producing some of the best security experts in the muggle world, Sirius stood out like a sore thumb. He was the black sheep who defied family expectations. His family's company, BlackGuard Security, was known for its merciless efficiency and rigid standards.

His abilities were evident. Succeeded in every training program he participated in, frequently outperforming his peers with fast thinking and adaptability. Your father noticed Sirius's unconventional approach to security and saw potential in his abilities. When he was assigned to be your bodyguard, he took it as an opportunity to show himself beyond the shadow of his family's legacy.

Sirius is your shadow. He’s never more than a few paces behind. But it wasn’t just duty that kept him so close; it’s the quiet and unspoken bond that had formed between you two throughout the years. A bond that went beyond the call of duty, beyond the formalities. Which he desperately tries to deny.

“Good morning, Remmy!”

You beamed, smiling as you opened the door of your bedroom to see the tall man standing outside, on watch.

It’s still a mystery to you how he looks so put together with his neat hair, suit, and the signature earpiece in his ear even though it’s still 7:00 in the morning.

“Good morning, Miss.” He smiles, closing the door behind you as you headed towards the grand staircase, Remus following a step behind.

“I rarely see you during mornings,” You comment, going down the stairs to grab breakfast.

“James had some matters to attend to, Miss.” He answered, offering a small and polite smile. You hummed, “It’s alright. I like your company, Remmy. Jamie can get a tad bit enthusiastic in mornings.” You laugh, as Remus looks at you.

“Don’t let him hear that or he might just throw a fit.” He chuckled.

“He’s James, it’s normal.” You grinned, seeing the familiar long black-haired guy talking quietly in his earpiece.

“Morning, Sirius!” You waved at him; his piercing grey eyes looked in your direction. “Good morning, Y/n.” he smiled, then went back to talking in his earpiece.

You would be lying if you said you weren’t a bit bummed that you don’t have his undivided attention, Remus noticed this and raised his eyebrow, smiling to himself.

Taking a seat at the rather large dining table, you couldn't help but sigh. Remus decided to tease you a bit, "Were you expecting more from Padfoot?" He smiles, chuckling at the way you desperately try to hide the blush on your cheeks.

"What?! No! I was just pre-occupied with other things!"

Remus doesn't believe it when your eyes wandered in the direction of Sirius who was still talking into the earpiece. "No prongs, she has an event she needs to attend in the evening." You heard him talking to what you can assume is James from the other line.

The scent of breakfast wafted through the air, making your stomach growl as the staff placed the dishes and arranged the silverware for you.

"Would you like some, Remmy?"

"No thank you, miss. I already ate."

As you ate a piece of your breakfast, you looked up to Remus. "Anything interesting stuff for today?"

"I'm afraid today will be quite normal, miss. Just a charity ball your family would attend hosted by the Malfoy family."

You frowned. It's not like you hate the Malfoys, you just don't like how they're trying to set you up with their son, Lucius Malfoy, when it was clear that he is infatuated with his mother's bodyguard- Narcissa Black.

"Do I really have to go?" You complained,

"Prongs already picked up your dress for later, Y/n." Sirius suddenly spoke up, and standing beside Remus. You huffed, already feeling tired.

“Maybe I’ll just sneak out again-“

“No can do, Y/n!” James appeared out of nowhere, his famous grin plastered on his face, Peter trailing behind him, tinkering with what seems to be a mini remote of some sort.

You crossed your arms, eyebrows raised. “And why would that be, Mr. Potter?”

“Because your escort would be Malfoy.” he grumbles, clearly not liking the idea and the dude.

“I beg your pardon?”

You tried not to roll your eyes, keyword, tried. Remus clears his throat, trying to mask his surprise. Sirius felt his eye twitch.

What if something happens at the ball? Sirius is the most capable one of protecting you from danger, sorrynotsorry.

“But!” James blurts, “We’d still attend the ball, not just that close to you.”

“Like that’s any better.”

James frowns, “Sorry. The Malfoys actually don’t even want us to attend and guard you. Your father insisted, telling them you won’t attend the ball without us.” He says, taking a seat beside you despite Remus’ warning glances directed at him.

“Just what do they want…?” Sirius mumbles to himself, already getting highly suspicious of Lucius and his family. (Not because of the fact that you’re about to get arranged to the Malfoy heir, no not at all.)

“They’re probably just annoyed, Lucius really can’t make a move on Y/n with us around.” James said, grabbing a handful of grapes and popping them onto his mouth, making you chuckle as you pushed the bowl closer to him.

“Alright, looking good Y/n!” James grinned, seeing you come down the grand staircase dressed in a red lavish gown with a gold accent.

Sirius felt his heart stop.

There was just something about you that makes his heart beat a little faster, time freezing, and the unusual flips his stomach did when he sees you.

Fuck— you were absolutely breathtaking.

You twirled, making your boys smile and compliment you, but Sirius just stood there, not reacting.

“Do I look presentable, Siri?”

You asked, trying to pass it off as a joke but they know damn well you were serious as you fiddled with a random lace in your dress. Not like Sirius noticed it, no, he was transfixed to your beauty.

“Beautiful.”

That was all you needed to hear.

“Mr. Malfoy, good evening.”

Lucius smiled slightly, taking your hand, and kissing it. “The night could not compare to your beauty, Y/n.”

It took every single fiber of Sirius’ being to not punch Lucius square in the face. How dare he flirt with you when he’s secretly dating his cousin?

You smiled politely, even though all you wanted to do is to stay a good couple of feet away from him. “You flatter me, Mr. Malfoy.”

“I am just stating facts, Y/n.” He offered his arm to you, “Shall we?”

Right. Might as well get over it.

Linking your arm with his, you nodded. “We shall.”

The boys instantly knew there was something off as soon as they stepped inside the venue.

James kept twisting the ring on his pinky finger, already thinking of numerous escape plans for different situations. Peter was on his phone, eyebrows furrowing as he checked and tries to figure out why he can't access some surveillance cameras in the venue. Sirius was on high alert, nothing could go unnoticed, he knows who approached you, how long you've spoken to them, the food that you consumed, and how that stupid Lucius kissed your hand, and interacted with you.

Remus also was alert, but one thing that made the alarms go off inside his head was the four suspicious men dressed in tuxedos quietly slipped inside the venue without getting noticed.

"Marauders, two o'clock. Four men, nearing darling's area quick." He told in the comms, eyes never leaving the four figures.

"Copy, Moony. Wormtail, any news?" Remus' earpiece was filled with James' voice. "Negative. Still trying to access." Out of the corner of his eye, Remus can see Sirius slowly inching to your direction. "Padfoot, do not engage. Wait it out." Remus heard James order Sirius, "I won't." he grunts.

That was when hell broke loose.

With lightning reflexes, one of the men pulled out a pistol and shot the large crystal chandelier causing it to fall and crash to the ground, breaking into thousands of tiny pieces. It was pure chaos, people were trying to rush out of the exits, chairs and tables were turned as they pushed through.

Sirius felt his blood run cold.

He was in autopilot, he dodged a panicked guest and leaped over fallen chairs, all while keeping his eyes on you. He cannot afford for the men to reach you before he does.

Luck was not on his side today.

He quickly closed the distance between both of you. He was your protector; he swore on his life he would protect you. Sirius would even sacrifice his life if it meant that you would be safe. He would do anything for you.

It was proven it wasn't enough when one of the men grabbed your arm, dragging you towards a hidden exit while Lucius Malfoy was escorted by the others.

"Fuck!" He yelled, as one of Malfoy's henchmen shot him in the shoulder to prevent him from going after you.

"Prongs! They have her!" They could all hear his anguished voice through the comms. Remus runs over to Sirius from where he was stationed, "Padfoot, you're injured-"

"I don't care!" He yells at his friend, "We need to fucking find her!"

"Wormtail, you better have the damn access already or I'll skin you alive!" Sirius barks angrily, talking to his comms as he fought the rest of the men with Remus helping him. "I'm in, but it's too late. They jammed the signals earlier and destroyed footages. Go to the exit, you'll see a motorbike on your left-" Sirius doesn't need to be told twice, he did what Peter told him and mounted the motorcycle, Remus quickly joining him.

"Can you see the black car ahead of you? That's them." Peter told him. Sirius was focusing on chasing the damn vehicle, so Remus answered on his behalf.

"Yeah, we're closing in. Prongs, what's your status?"

"Backsup are on their way, they'll be right behind you in 2 minutes."

Sirius felt the distant throb in his shoulder, the warm blood seeping through made his dress shirt clung onto him, but he paid it no mind.

"Keep your eyes on the road, Padfoot!" Remus reminds him as they narrowly missed an incoming truck. Sirius only nodded in reply as he grips the motorcycle tightly, weaving through the traffic and desperately trying to reach the speedy vehicle you're in.

"We're gaining on them!" Remus updates, seeing the familiar back up vehicles approaching, "Back up's near."

"Do not engage until the back ups arrive." James told them in a calm and commanding tone.

Of course.

Sirius will always be Sirius. When had he ever listened to Prongs' orders?

He is driven by his instinct, which is currently screaming at him to attack right then and there. As they neared an intersection, an opportunity was presented to him. He would be a fucking idiot to ignore it. With a calculated risk, he accelerated, effectively pulling alongside the car.

Remus sighs, already knowing his friend's thoughts and getting ready.

"Now, Moony!" Remus, who's on cue, leaned out and desperately tried to reach the car's door handle, and with a few tries, he managed to open it succesfully making him grapple with a man inside.

The car swerves, tires screeching but Sirius kept his pace. He can see you struggling with your captors, and he can hear the backup seconds away. He couldn't wait, every second counts, anything could happen.

"Hang on!" Sirius shouts, with a burst of speed, the backup cars sandwiched the car with you inside, forcing it to halt. Sirius and Remus dismounted the motorbike, guns drawn.

"It's either you release her, or I'll kill all of you and blondie." He growls, referring to Lucius Malfoy who is also inside the car.

The situation was tense, but the arrival of their team shifted the balance. The henchmen, overwhelmed and outgunned, let you go, their plan thwarted. Keeping the Malfoy Heir safe is their top priority.

Dust settled down, and the other staff handled the situation, wrapping it up. Sirius stormy grey eyes met yours in the midst of chaos. His shoulder stung, a reminder of the events that had happened tonight, although it paled in comparison to the concern etched in his face as he rushes to you.

"You're not hurt, are you?" His voice was barely above a whisper as he scanned your form. Your eyes found its way on his injury, "No, I'm alright. But Sirius, you're hurt."

Sirius exhaled a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, and the world seems to slow down. "I'll live, darling. The important thing is that you're safe."

The sirens, flashing lights, and the buzz all seemed to fade out into the background as you stared into his eyes. Taking your hand in his, he placed it to his lips, pressing a kiss, his gaze never leaving yours.

"I was so afraid I'd lose you," he admitted, the vulnerability in his voice unlike anything you'd heard before. Sirius hugged you tightly, feeling him press a kiss against your hair as you leaned to his chest, listening to the steady thump of his heart.

"You'll never lose me. Never in a million years, how could you when you're always close to me?"

#marauders x reader #sirius black x reader #james potter x reader #remus lupin x reader #peter pettigrew #marauders fanfiction #harry potter #bodyguard au #sirius black #james potter #remus lupin #marauders era #moony wormtail padfoot and prongs

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ro-is-struggling · 5 months ago

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Late Night Encounters || Sirius Black x Reader

This is part of my 600 followers celebration. The fic was requested by a lovely reader that wanted prompt 8 with Sirius Black: Character A and Character B are in a secret relationship and make the mistake of kissing in a place where there are security cameras. When they realize it, they struggle to avoid being discovered while wondering if anyone already knows, with Sirius Black. But, the setting isn’t hogwarts, but the reader’s house (she comes from a rather wealthy and famous muggle family, so there are security cameras in some parts of the house. And, the entire group is staying at her’s the reader during the holidays. Also because she lives alone with her governess because her parents have to keep traveling for work (doesn’t mean that they have a strained relationship). Also, could this one also end in smut? The governess is very chill and friendly though, and she doesn’t have to react in the typical angry and strict way, more like “I knew it” and sassy, comical way

Summary: Your parents made something very clear to you before they left for their business trip: your friends could stay at your house for the summer vacation, but you were forbidden from having parties, trashing the house or bringing boys up to your room. You should have known that having the marauders as friends would make that agreement much harder to honor than it was supposed to be. Especially when you had a little secret that complicated things even more. You and Sirius were dating, and keeping him out of your room for the entire summer was a task that proved impossible very quickly.

Warnings: modern au (there's modern technology cause the prompt needs it), SMUT MINORS DNI, characters are all of age, porn with plot, fingering, dry humping, cuming in pants, overstimulation, fluff, secret relationship, attempt at humor, fem!reader

English is not my first language

Notes: look I wasn't planning on making this one so smutty, it was supposed to be a fluffy, silly little one shot but I got carried away… AGAIN! Sorry, but there's more Sirius x reader sfw fics coming soon!

Before your parents left for work, they made something very clear to you: your friends could stay at your house for the summer break, but you were not allowed to throw parties, destroy the house or bring boys up to your room. You agreed, knowing that it would be difficult to meet their demands when your friends were none other than the marauders —famously known at Hogwarts for their ability to wreck everything in seconds. You assured them that all of you would be careful and that you would take the responsibility of house-keeping very seriously. You knew it would be stressful since your friends didn't take kindly to the word no, but you had no choice. Being a Muggle-born child meant being cut off from the magical world during the vacations and you missed it like crazy. Usually your friends would invite you over to their houses for a couple of days to hang out, but this time you wanted to return the favor. After all, you had a big, beautiful house that you could barely enjoy.

As expected, Lily, Remus and Peter were the best behaved of them all, respecting your parents' rules and listening to your governess' warnings when things started to get out of hand. James and Sirius, however, were not so considerate. Their restless and curious nature was aggravated by the presence of so many Muggle objects that were completely foreign to them. It was a nightmare to have to keep an eye on them so they were off the radar of your governess, although you had to admit that it was fun to watch them get amazed by things that to you were as mundane as a computer or the cameras of the house security system.

Although the worst came when Sirius snuck into your room after everyone had gone to bed. You were almost asleep, your body relaxed under the covers as you focused on the cool night breeze bumping against the window. You didn't hear him come in, but you felt the weight of his body next to yours as he lay down on the bed with you. Your sleep clouded mind didn't realize what was happening at first, you just recognized his voice and the scent of leather and tobacco that was distinctive to him and snuggled against him.

"I can't sleep alone knowing you're so close to me." He murmured against your neck, leaving a couple of kisses on your delicate skin. You sighed in pleasure, moving your head to give him better access to your sensitive area. You lost yourself in his kisses for a moment, enjoying the warmth of his body against yours.

But then your parents' words echoed in your mind and you jumped away from him, as if his lips were burning you. "Wait! You can't be here!" you panicked, sitting up in bed and turning on the light on the bedside table so you could look Sirius in the eye. "My parents are going to kill me if they find out I let you into my bedroom!"

"Relax! They're not here and everyone else is sleeping. No one saw me coming in."

"What about the guys? I don't want them to find out about us this way."

"They're heavy sleepers and they've been snoring since the moment their heads hit the pillows." He assured you, settling in behind you as his hands gently massaged your tense shoulders. "Relax, no one's going to know I was here." You knew it was wrong, but you couldn't resist Sirius' charms. You didn't know how he did it, but he always managed to talk you into everything.

You relaxed under his touch, letting his hands caress your back. You let out a pleased sigh, feeling the warm tingle his fingers aroused on your skin. When he rested his lips on your neck again, spreading sloppy wet kisses, you had to bite your lip to keep from moaning. He knew exactly what to do and where to touch you to make you melt in his hands and he was definitely taking advantage of that.

"Sirius, we can't." You muttered between sighs, your hand flying to the back of his head to hold him in place —an act that directly contradicted your words. "They'll hear us."

"Not if we're quiet." He said before nibbling on the sensitive skin of your neck as if he was trying to push you to make noise. "You think you can be quiet for me, love?" His warm breath collided against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. His voice, soft and low, was barely a husky whisper that went straight to your core. Your brain was screaming at you to refuse, but your body gave in to its desires as Sirius' hands began to massage your breasts, his fingers circling your nipples over the thin fabric of your pajama top.

"Yes," you finally said, throwing all caution out the window. "Please..."

Sirius chuckled at your sudden enthusiasm, a cocky grin creeping across his face. He planted a kiss on your lips before continuing, his tongue exploring your mouth expertly. There was nothing sweet or gentle about the way his lips moved over yours, only desire and desperation. It took your breath away and left you a little stupid, your mind clouded with anticipation.

When he pulled away you whimpered and instinctively sought his lips, but he stopped you. He made himself more comfortable on the bed, leaning his back against the headboard, his legs on either side of yours. Then he pulled you against him, letting you rest your head on his shoulder while his hands roamed your body over your clothes. You could feel his semi-hard member against your ass, a cruel reminder of what you couldn't have.

Sirius took his time with you, kissing every inch of skin he could access as his fingers moved slowly down your body. It was as if he was daring you, as if he was seeking to push you to the edge of desperation on purpose. When his fingers finally touched you where you needed it the most, pushing your panties aside to sink into your wetness, you couldn't contain the moan that escaped your throat. Pure electricity coursed through your body as he drew gentle circles over your bundle of nerves, feeling the relief come closer with each movement of his hand over you. You closed your eyes and allowed yourself to get lost in the pleasure, clinging to Sirius' arm as a way to keep yourself grounded.

However, the pleasure came to a sudden halt when he removed his hand from your center. You whimpered in protest and Sirius clicked his tongue in response. “I thought I told you to be quiet, love.” He chuckled against your ear, clearly enjoying being the one to cause your uncontrollable moans of pleasure.

"I'm sorry. I'll be good, I promise." You said, lifting your hips against his hand in a desperate attempt to feel some friction. “It just... i-it f-feels so good.” You pouted, frustration slowly replacing the pleasure.

“Oh I know, love, I know.” Sirius wrapped his free arm around your waist, pressing you against his body and effectively stopping your desperate movements. You felt his hard cock against your ass, shuddering in his pants, as desperate for attention as you were. It made you think that this was a game that you both could.

"I know it feels good, but I need you to be nice and quiet for me, love.

You wouldn't want someone to hear us right now, would you?” You shook your head effusively.

“I'll be quiet, I promise.”

“Good girl.” He praised you before continuing his assault on your wet, desperate pussy. Only you were far from being a good girl. Because if you had to endure the torturous movement of his fingers over your center without being able to make a sound, it was only fair that he should suffer a little too.

You began with slow thrusts of your hips, following the rhythm of his caresses in search of pleasure. And with each movement you made sure to brush Sirius's bulge with your ass. He was good at keeping his composure, though you could tell your plan was working by the way he increased the pace of his strokes. The arm around your waist was tense, unsure if he should apply more pressure to slow your movements or to feel you even closer to his cock. His kisses became sloppier and more desperate, teeth digging into the skin of your neck each time your ass was pressed directly where he needed it the most.

But still, he didn't moan. His breathing was rapid and you could hear him muttering curses under his breath from time to time, but that wasn't enough for you. You wanted to hear him moan in pleasure, to have your name fall from his lips before his mind could stop him. So when he inserted a finger into your tight, warm hole, you took the opportunity to push your hips against his hand to fuck yourself with him.

The new angle was as pleasurable for you as it was for him. Sirius's fingers were longer than yours, allowing him to easily reach that spongy place inside you that made your legs tremble. And as your pleasure increased, so did the movements of your hips, which became increasingly erratic and desperate. Wave after wave of pleasure flooded Sirius every time your ass pressed against him, bringing him closer and closer to the edge.

“Fuck, baby, just like that.” He finally moaned, groaning loudly as you pressed yourself against him. A smile formed on your face, your pleasure clouded mind barely registering his words.

“I thought we were supposed to be quiet.” You teased him between shaky breaths. “You wouldn't want to get caught right now, would you?” Sirius smiled against your neck, enjoying your sudden arrogance more than expected. However, he wasn't about to let you win so easily. He took advantage of your distraction to slip a second finger inside you, pushing it into your velvety walls without giving you any warning. The teasing chuckle that escaped your lips turned into a loud moan, giving him the upper hand again.

“Careful with your words, love, cause I can make things so much harder for you if you keep that attitude.”

“Do your worst.”

You didn't know what you were getting into by challenging him like that. You innocently thought you would be able to take whatever he gave you, you just had to bite your tongue and let your competitive nature help you keep quiet just so you could prove to him that you could. But the pace at which he began to move his fingers took you by surprise. He was fast and hard, and somehow managed to push all the right buttons at once. Your body quivered under his grip, your hips moving desperately against his hand in an attempt to keep up with his rhythm. And when the knot in your stomach finally snapped you had to cover your mouth with your own hand to keep from crying out in pleasure, biting down hard on the skin to stifle your moans.

But the problem was that Sirius didn't stop. You were gushing, soaking the sheets beneath you and his fingers wouldn't stop their assault on your poor pussy. It was too much. The pleasure was so intense that it overwhelmed you, clouding your thoughts and leaving you a little dumb. Your whole body convulsed against him as his caresses set your nervous system on fire. You tried to close your legs to get away from his touch, at least until you had a chance to catch your breath and clear your thoughts, but Sirius slipped his legs under yours and used his knees to keep you open and exposed for him.

The room filled with the wet sounds of your abused pussy mixed with the quickened breaths of both of you. Your clit was swollen and sensitive and every time Sirius' thumb brushed it your body twitched, letting out a whimper of desperation that was muffled by the palm of your hand. It was almost painful, but before you could ask Sirius to stop your second orgasm ripped through you, leaving you completely stupid.

Your mind stopped working as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through you. Your body fell limp over Sirius's, your weak and tired muscles unable to hold you up. He held you in his arms, whispering sweet nothings in your ear as you struggled to catch your breath. His fingers caressed your sweat-covered skin gently, giving you something to keep you grounded and bring you back to reality.

It took you longer than you expected to recover. Something as simple as opening your eyes felt like an impossible task since your body was exhausted. But when you finally did, you were met with Sirius' smile as he laid next to you. His head rested on one of his arms bent at the elbow so he could better admire you while with his free hand he gently caressed your cheek. You realized then that he had taken it upon himself to move you at some point without your brain registering it.

“There you are!” He exclaimed in a hoarse whisper as he saw you open your eyes. “Are you alright?”

“Wonderful.” You replied with a satisfied smile and you both let out a giggle.

"I didn't go too far, did I?"

"Nope, you were great, don't worry."

You remained silent for a few seconds, enjoying each other's company. You closed your eyes once more, seeking to escape Sirius' intense stare. It made you nervous and clouded your thinking. Though you opened them quickly when you realized that you were happy and satisfied but he probably wasn't.

“Give me a second to recover and I'll take care of you.”

“Oh that's okay, I already... humm...” Sirius muttered awkwardly. His eyes looked down and you mimicked his action, finding a wet spot on his pants. At first you thought you had done that, staining the fabric of his pajamas with your arousal. But then your slow brain processed his words.

Oh.

He had cum in his pants.

And not only that, he had cum in his pants while pleasuring you.

For some reason you found that incredibly hot and if you weren't so tired you'd go for a second round without a second thought.

“What can I say?” he shrugged. “You were really hot squirming against me, trying so hard to keep those pretty sounds from scaping your mouth.”

“Shut up!” you exclaimed, suddenly embarrassed. He let out an arrogant laugh, but you forced him to shut up by locking your lips with his.

*****

You were awakened by the morning sunlight streaming through the windows. The house was quiet, only the sound of the clock resting on the bedside table could be heard. That told you it was early. You didn't even have to open your eyes to know that it wasn't worth getting up yet, so you adjusted your position in bed and settled back to sleep.

That was, however, until you felt the weight of Sirius' body pressed against your back, his arms wrapping around you and pressing you against his chest instinctively as he let out soft breaths. He was asleep. Asleep in your bed after spending the night together, something that clearly violated the agreement you had made with your parents before they left on their trip.

Your eyes suddenly opened wide, sitting up in bed with a jump. Sirius groaned beside you and you felt him tugging on your arm in an attempt to get you to go back to sleep. You pushed his hand back into place and shook him lightly to force him to open his eyes.

“Sirius, wake up! You need to leave, you can't be here.” You said in a whisper. He looked at you with sleepy eyes narrowed by the blinding light and you felt bad for having to wake him up. He looked adorable sleeping next to you, his long hair spread out on your pillow and his arms seeking the warmth of your body.

“Five more minutes.” He mumbled, closing his eyes once more and you almost gave in to his request. But you couldn't let your friends and parents find out about your relationship like this, so you insisted.

"No, c'mon! You need to get back in your bed before anyone wakes up."

You had to argue some more with a very tired Sirius, but eventually he agreed to get up. You walked him to the door, almost pushing him out of your room to make sure he did as you asked. He pouted, joking about your lack of hospitality and inconsideration in waking him so early after going to bed so late. You rolled your eyes, telling him to suck it up as a smile crept across your face.

“I don't even get a goodbye kiss?” Sirius insisted and you gave in, joining your lips with his in a quick kiss.

You were so worried about making sure none of your friends caught you or that your governess would catch you breaking the rules, that it didn't even occur to you to think about the security camera in the hallway that had captured not only the kiss, but the moment Sirius had snuck into your room.

It wasn't until a couple of hours later, when everyone was enjoying a nice breakfast, that the thought popped into your mind. You were already panicking for no apparent reason, feeling that somehow all your friends knew what you had done last night. Sirius made sure everyone was asleep when he came back into the room, but still you had this horrible feeling that your secret was no longer a secret. It made you hyper-aware of your feelings for Sirius, making you overthink even the way you looked at him. It was ridiculous and probably more suspicious than your secret meeting the night before, but you had no way to command your shoulders to relax.

And things got worse when you heard your governess mention something about security cameras. It was a casual and innocent comment, but your eyes grew wide as you realized what a fatal mistake you had made. You nearly choked on the juice you were drinking, earning a look of confusion and suspicion from the woman who had helped your parents with your upbringing for as long as you could remember. Remus patted you on the back, asking if you were all right. You thanked him for his concern with teary eyes, making an effort to control your reactions so as not to arouse further suspicion.

Though that turned out to be a more difficult task than you expected when you heard James ask about Sirius' mysterious absence during the night.

"I woke up at 3 a.m and you weren't in your bed. Were you playing pranks out there?" James' playful tone made you more nervous. He was looking at Sirius with a mischievous grin and a knowing look.

Your heart began to pound nervously as your gaze darted around the room, avoiding your friends' faces. You felt embarrassed, exposed. Somehow, they knew. They knew about your secret relationship. They knew about your naughty night. They knew you had been lying to them all this time and now they sought to torture you.

"Are you spying on me now, Jamie?" Sirius said with a mocking tone. He didn't seem at all affected by his friend's implications and you honestly didn't understand how he could be so calm.

"No, I'm just looking out for y/n. I'm sure she wouldn't appreciate you breaking the rules and getting her in trouble with her parents."

James definitely knew something and Sirius had figured it out, it was clear in the way they looked at each other. You just hoped that he wouldn't say anything, especially not in front of your governess who came into the kitchen every now and then to make sure everything was in order. You knew then that you couldn't keep your relationship hidden for much longer. If James knew something, it was only a matter of time before the others found out too —if they didn't already know. But that wasn't the time or place to make the announcement, so you hoped James would keep his mouth shut.

"I'm sure Sirius wasn't doing anything bad." Remus interjected, seeking to put an end to the strange turn the conversation had taken. "Right, Sirius?"

"No I was not! If you have to know, I could sleep so I got up and went down to the kitchen to have a glass of water."

"Yes, James! What were you thinking accusing Sirius like that?" Lily interjected with a sarcastic tone. "He could never break the rules, that's not who he is!"

Everyone burst into laughter and, to your good fortune, the conversation shifted, now focusing on the many times that not only Sirius, but also the rest of the marauders had broken the rules. The light hearted discussion helped you to relieve some of the tension in your shoulders, momentarily forgetting that your secret was hanging by a thread. The existence of the security cameras in the hallway of your room was still lingering in the back of your mind, but you knew there was nothing you could do at that moment other than keep an eye on your governess to make sure she didn't go to the security camera control room. If you suddenly stood up at that moment or asked to speak to Sirius in private, everyone would suspect James was onto something. You doubted your governess would check the recordings anyway, so you allowed yourself to relax for a moment and enjoy your breakfast before you tackled the camera predicament.

"It's not a big deal!" Sirius played it down when you told him about the problem, staying with him in the kitchen while the others moved to the living room. "Do you really think she's going to watch hours of footage just to catch us breaking the rules?"

"She might! My parents left her in charge and they're pretty strict about this kind of stuff and I don't really want to listen to them talking about relationships and being safe ever again!" you said, remembering with horror the last time you had been caught making out with someone. That was an awkward moment you didn't want to go through again. Although you were of legal age according to magical terms, your parents had been very clear in telling you that you must obey their rules as long as you lived under their roof, which undoubtedly meant a lecture and probably some punishment if they ever saw that recording.

Sirius didn't think it was a big deal, but you dragged him with you to the security camera control room anyway. You didn't have a very elaborate plan to solve your problem, just erase the recording and play dumb if your governess ever figured out that something was wrong. You asked Sirius to remain at the door while you worked on removing all evidence of your clandestine encounter, tasking him with the job of making sure no one entered —using magic if necessary to distract your governess. However, he abandoned his post when he heard your confused exclamation.

"What's wrong?" Sirius asked you with slight concern as he tried to look over your shoulder at the screen. All he could see was you strolling from folder to folder, clicking on different videos and closing them after a couple of seconds.

"It's gone!" mutter with confusion. The whole day's recordings were perfectly ordered, but when it got to the time of night you needed to delete, there was an inexplicable jump in time.

"What do you mean it's gone?"

"I mean there is no video! It's like someone already deleted it."

"That's good, right? No evidence!" You looked at Sirius with an unsure expression. Yes, it was good in theory. It meant there was no trace of your little encounter, but it raised other questions because security camera recordings didn't just disappear. They could fail and delete hours of footage, yes, but not in such a convenient way for you. No, that had to be done manually. And that only meant one thing.

"Are you looking for something?" Your guardian's voice startled you and you jumped out of your seat in front of the computer screen, not even closing the folders to hide your intentions.

"N-no, I, humm, we heard some weird noises last night and I wanted to check the cameras to see what it was." You managed to lie, though not very convincingly. Your governess looked at you with a raised eyebrow, a firm expression drawn on her face.

"Oh, I heard some noises too," she said and you felt your soul leave your body. You hoped she didn't mean what you thought she meant because you might die of embarrassment right there. "But it seems like something happened to the cameras because there is no video footage from around that time. It could be the work of some naughty little mice that must be running around the house messing up the power lines." She gave you a knowing look and you understood then that she had taken it upon herself to cover up your mistake.

"Oh, yeah, that could be it!" you played along, looking everywhere but her face. You couldn't hold her gaze when you knew she probably knew what you and Sirius had done. You felt so embarrassed that if a divine lightning bolt fell from the sky and pulverized you at that moment, you would thank the heavens for getting you out of such an awkward moment.

You mumbled a quick excuse so you could slip out of there, pushing Sirius out of the room before making your escape. But just when you thought you were free from the humiliation, you felt the hand of your governess close on your arm, forcing you to turn around and look at her.

"I would advise those two little mice to be more careful next time, they won't always be lucky if they keep it up." she winked at you and you could do nothing but nod before running off down the hallway, fleeing from her and the embarrassment you felt.

It was decided, you would never invite anyone to stay at your house for the summer ever again.

#ro's 600 followers celebration #sirius black x reader #sirius black x fem reader #sirius black smut

108 notes · View notes

yearninqheart · 5 months ago

Text

fine line

We’ll be a fine line, we’ll be alright.

pairing: regulus black x reader

word count: 2.6k

tags: gender-neutral!reader, non-magic/muggle au, exes to lovers—technically, some angst, some fluff, reader is mentioned to be sick, sort of implies player!reg, trust fund kid!reg, potter!reader (the occupation, not the surname)

warnings: Walburga Black gets her own warning (briefly mentioned), mentions of eating, not proofread sorry. lmk if i missed anything please!

notes: let’s not talk about how i dipped after posting two sandman fics and a (now cancelled) series master for c!w*lbur i never even posted chapter one for. but anyways, heyy how’ve y’all been?? <3 if you follow my main this isn’t even the fic i’ve been talking about, technically. i have a longer reg fic in the works that i hope to finish one day atp lmao. let me know what you think of this fic in the meantime though, i’m apologize for my rusty writing this is more so a writing practice for me but i did have this prompt in my notes for a while so, here she is!

"It took you long enough." Regulus said with a huff, hand still midair about to knock before you had swung the door open, which leads you to the situation you were now thrust into: your ex-boyfriend standing in your doorway with bags of groceries and takeout in hand.

"Regulus I'm really-" He barely lets you speak before easily letting himself in, setting the bags onto your countertops as he began preparing whatever it was he had bought. "Not in the mood right now..."

Seeing as he's already throwing ingredients into one of your pots, there would be no use in even trying to get him to leave so you shut the door behind you and decided to take a seat at the island, watching as he worked. However, the moment you even took a step forward he was setting down the knife and urging you to go to bed.

"You need to rest, I don't care how much sleep you say you got, you need more. Go. I'll leave some tea by your nightstand." Was all he said before guiding you back to your room and closing the door, barely letting you face him before the door closed, leaving you with too many thoughts when all your body wanted was to curl back into bed. And given that Regulus was seemingly going to be making dinner, there was really no reason to not listen to him.

When you woke up again, who knows how many hours later, you found a cup of tea by your nightstand as promised, steam coming off the top of it as you took a sip. It briefly brought a small smile to your face before you remembered who exactly it was that put it there.

You felt much better as you got out of bed, taking a moment to stretch before walking towards the hallway where Regulus' voice was slightly muffled due to the soft music he had left on in the background. It was a song you had once loved and played whenever Regulus came over for dinner after work. It's been a while since he's last entered your home as your boyfriend, but he seems content to live in ignorance bliss whenever he comes over-oftentimes unannounced and/or invited —and the song just so happens to appear in the queue.

Your current relationship with Regulus was complicated. The two of you had broken up nearly five months ago, putting an end to a three year relationship that was going seemingly well. One would've thought such a sudden break would cause a rift between you two (it was what you were hoping for anyways) but it appears that Regulus doesn't seem to care. You're certain he's doing it out of spite, but another part of you hopes that there's more to his actions than simply 'spite". It wasn't easy choosing to end such a perfect relationship after all, much less your choice.

As you entered the kitchen, you were met with Regulus' back as he hunched over your countertop, focused on cutting the tomatoes just right even though he knows you hate them (he says it helps with the flavour and you agree, but that doesn't stop you from hating them). You watch as he finishes prepping the food, moving effortlessly around your kitchen to find the exact items he needs. Everything is still where they were when you kicked him out five months ago, and he knows you well enough that that'll never change.

"The salt's on the table."

Except for the salt and pepper, since you were too lazy to put it back after using them last night.

"Good Morning sunshine." He joked, enjoying the way your eyes rolled at the stupid nickname as you stepped towards him.

"Whatcha making?"

"Stew. It just needs to simmer a bit more so that the vegetables cook. Do you want to freshen up while I finish up here?"

You give him a nod, your body stiffening when the normalcy between you makes you forget that you're no longer dating and you catch yourself almost leaning forward to rest your chin on his shoulder. Too embarrassed to even look up at him, you quickly ran off to your bathroom before he could say another word.

By the time you were back, Regulus was just done setting up the dinner table. A part of you hated how you left his spot vacant even after all that's happened. You were in a new city starting anew, you didn’t need a second sea at your dinner table. However, the other part seemed to enjoy how naturally Regulus filled that spot, both the seat across from yours at the table and your home in general. Despite your numerous attempts of trying to push him out of your life he has simply refused and made it apparent he was staying in your life one way or another. Whether that be as your lover or a friend, he was there to stay.

"Dinners ready!" He hummed, catching your attention as he nodded towards your seat.

He was going to turn in the direction opposite of the table but upon noticing your silence, understood and added, "I'll join you in a sec, just going to put these dishes in the sink."

That seemed to be all you needed to hear as you took your seat at the small dinner table, waiting patiently as Regulus allowed the dishes to soak before wiping down the countertops then joining you at the table.

The meal, aside from simple requests of can you pass me some napkins and where's the salt, was silent. Music that you are now certain is playing from the playlist you made after he had moved into the apartment was still playing in the background and brought forth a wave of nostalgia you didn't think you'd get. The normalcy of it all was frustrating however, and you didn't mean to slam your spoon onto the table but he didn't even appear to be fazed by your sudden outburst. It was about time this happened.

"Why do you keep doing this?" You asked, watching as he simply continues to finish his stew, refusing to look you in the eyes for once.

"Doing what?"

"This!" You gestured around you exaggeratedly. "Visiting me still, cooking for me, keeping me company. We broke up already, Regulus."

"I know." Came his response.

"So why do you keep showing up?" There was no malice to your question. No venom coated words or sharp tongue, only pure curiosity seeing as you've raked your mind for months wondering why he wasn't leaving you alone despite all your efforts.

For a moment, Regulus remained quiet. He didn't look up at you nor did he say a word, slowly finishing his stew and wiping his mouth before setting the plate aside to finally look at you.

"Why are you so persistent we distance ourselves?"

You almost scoffed at his question. For one, you two were now no longer dating, so why continue to see each-other as often as you did whilst dating. Secondly, neither of you will be able to properly heal and move on if the very person you've chosen to leave is still in your everyday life. And thirdly… his mother.

Walburga Black is the wife of a wealthy man in London. Wealthy enough that she was able to fund your entire move to Scotland where she had hoped would be far enough for Regulus to leave you alone and also powerful enough that she was able to even achieve that wish in the first place. The relocating part at least it seems. She had given you a generous job offering for a company she had connections to. It paid better than your job back home and allowed you some extra cash so that you wouldn’t be living paycheck to paycheck. All she asked of you was to ‘leave Regulus alone’.

Obviously you had refused at first, but with a status like hers and the connections she had, it would not be worth going against her. A week after her initial offer, you had agreed to her deal with a sullen mood as she transferred an additional cheque to your account for ‘being so understanding’. You bit your tongue and simply thanked her before being escorted out of her office and to the car waiting outside. Regulus was currently on a trip to New York, so by the time he landed your cell would be deactivated and your apartment would be bare, leaving behind no traces of you or your relationship for him to hold.

“This will be better for him.” Walburga had told you. “If there’s no traces of you ever being there, it’ll be easier for him to move on. We don’t need him clinging onto the past now do we?”

You had agreed, because what else were you to do?

Even you had assumed Regulus would stay in London. He had everything there, why throw it all away? But it appears that both you and his mother underestimated his dedication–although it is what continues to confuse you every time you see his face.

"Why did you come all the way here?" Your voice was so soft he almost had to strain to hear you. "You had everything back home, why did you abandon it all just to come here? Don’t you miss your old lifestyle?"

The way he was looking at you made you feel like the answer was blatantly obvious. His brows were furrowed as he tilted his head sideways, appearing to be carefully choosing his next words before sitting up on his chair, letting his elbows rest on the table as the next song started to play from the speaker.

"I had everything back in London because I had you. What good is anything back there if you're suddenly on a train heading north?"

There it was, the confirmation you had both been dreading and waiting to hear since you stepped foot into your new apartment.

"But your mother-"

"Bought us a nice apartment to live in, I know. Such a sweet parting gift don't you think?"

You could almost laugh, had it not been for how hard your heart was pounding at the confirmation you had been waiting to hear for so long. Ironic how despite practicing how you would react when the time came you were now rendered frozen as you tried to come to terms with the fact that it finally happened.

"Regulus," You started but he cut you off by calling your name and for the first time in five months, he looked just like your Reg. He looked at you as if it hasn't been the most excruciating five months for you both, with such a tender and sweet expression you could almost melt.

You had expected the worst. Had practiced your defences for when the fight would occur but it never had the chance to bloom. Instead of getting upset, Regulus simply placed your hands in his, a thumb smoothing over the tops of your knuckles before speaking.

"Perhaps I did have everything," He began. "But I don't know why you subconsciously view me as the kind to even care if I inherit the company or not. They could give it all to the intern for all I care and I'd let them. They can take my name off their will, take back my cards and properties too and it wouldn’t even matter to me."

He saw you open your mouth to speak and cut you off before a sound could even pass your lips.

"I love you." He reminded you for the first time in five months. "I love you, even if it means I am no longer an heir to a multimillion company and my family hates me. Truly I don't care for them if the answer has always been you."

It was almost deafening how hard your heart was pounding, threatening to burst out of your chest any second now if you didn't calm down but how could you possibly do that? How could you even think to calm down when he’s just confessed his love for you at the expense of everything he’s ever known and had.

Regulus did not say anything further, instead letting you take it all in as he hummed softly along to music while his thumb continued to run over the ridges of your knuckles.

After a moment, he brought your hands towards his face and pressed a kiss to it before clasping his other hand around your own. "I thought I was pretty forward to everyone about my affections towards you, was I not clear enough?" He mumbled quietly.

He was. Upon his first time meeting you, there was a visible shift in his attitude which all of his friends had quickly noticed. He'd decline offers of going out in favour for a quiet dinner at his penthouse with you, cancel on clubbing because you wanted to explore the waterfront when you couldn't sleep at night, he even took up pottery classes since you worked at a studio nearby his apartment and it would mean Regulus could be in your presence for longer, even if he would be bailing on a flight to Paris that his friends had invited him to.

(He thought they would get the hint that he no longer cared for partying but instead began inviting you to come along as well after he introduced you to them.

Regulus had quickly shut them down, though that didn't stop Mary from giving you her number so that you could make plans later.)

All to say that not once since you met him, did Regulus make it unknown or unclear that he was utterly in-love with you. So why did you doubt him when his mother sent you away?

His mother was the simple answer. But as he encouraged you to elaborate, Walburga turned out to only play a fraction of that fear. It was the thought of ripping him from the lifestyle he knew and was accustomed to, from the title and norms he's been raised to adhere to. Sure Walburga was also terrifying, but more so was the thought that Regulus would be throwing away all he ever knew just because of a little crush.

Business meetings since he was a child, attending galas dressed to the nines with a flock of eligible girls hanging off his arm, fancy dinner parties in different cities every night–if not the most exclusive in the city for when he decides to stay home–was nowhere close to your everyday life. In all honesty, your paths were probably never meant to cross but somehow managed to intertwine at just the right moment, for the love of your life to be here with you now. Now you understand however, that despite the differences in your upbringing and previous lifestyle, this is what he now wants–a simple, easy lifestyle with his lover by his side.

"I'm sorry." You apologized with a sigh, finally feeling the defeat of the act you've put up since Walburga got into your head about "tarnishing his image".

"Why are you apologizing, love?" A hand came up to hold your cheek, while the other drew comforting circles on top of your own.

"For listening to your mother?" You offered with a short laugh although it didn't quite reach your eyes. It never did whenever his mother was the topic. He couldn't blame you, but that was now in the past.

"Forget her, we'll be alright now."

taglist, lmk if you want to be added/removed! @retvenkos @with-love-anu @screennamealreadyused @princekooks @jackys-stuff-blog

#oneshot #regulus black #regulus black x reader #regulus black x you #regulus black fanfic #regulus black oneshot #regulus black angst #regulus black fluff #hp #hp x reader #hp fanfic

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vinylfoxbooks · 5 months ago

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July 6 - Limb | @jegulus-microfic | wc: 1139 Part 3 of Medium James AU Previous Part | First Part

“I hate the ghosts in the Slytherin common room.” James hums, watching as the door to the Slytherin dungeon shuts behind Regulus. It’s not often that they go down there to pick Regulus up for one reason or another, but everytime they do, they get a peek into the common room -- dark, dreary, and absolutely haunted -- but this is the first time that they’re mentioning it to Regulus.

“Ghosts, plural? How many are there?”

James shrugs, “Dunno. I’ve seen three or four different ones but they all creep me out.”

“For any specific reason?”

“They’re… I hate using ‘creepy’ for things like this but, they’re creepy. The way they move and look at people is off putting. One of them also has their limbs bent at wrong angles.”

Regulus balks at that, “What?”

“I don’t know what happened to them, and being honest, I don’t really want to find out.” James hums, guiding them down one of the hallways that leads towards the kitchen, “One of their feet looks like it's one backwards, there’s a bone sticking out of their elbow, and their other leg looks like it's hyperextended. It’s actually really disturbing.”

“Oh Merlin.” Regulus grimaces, “Do you see them everytime?”

“It’s like they’ve decided that their job is to guard the entrance to the dungeon. They stand by the door and glare at me whenever I look in. Or whenever I’m talking to your friends outside it. They’ve never left the common room either, so I think they just like it there.”

“That’s…”

“I don’t like it.” James shakes their head, “Something that my mum was always insistent on was that I don’t… discriminate, I guess, against ghosts by judging their appearance but I’m just put on edge when I see something like that, especially when they glare at me all the time.”

“I don’t blame you.” Regulus hums, “Where are we going?”

“To the kitchens, I want snacks and Remus asked that I grab him some chocolate puff pastries since I was coming down here anyway.”

“You can get things like that from the kitchens?”

James shrugs, “If you ask nicely. A lot of the house elves in the kitchen actually love cooking and offering us treats when you treat them right. They also let me cook sometimes when I’m missing home.” Regulus hums but doesn’t say anything else. James gets them into the kitchen by whispering something to one of the unassuming portraits in the hallway. They head inside and are greeted by one of the house elves.

“Hello Coopey.” James smiles.

“What can Coopey get for Master Potter?”

“Do you have any welsh cakes that I can have?”

Coopey seemingly takes a moment to think before he shakes his head, “Coopey doesn’t but he will make some for Master.”

“If it’s not trouble.”

“Never! Anything else for Master Potter?”

“Remus was wanting some chocolate puffs, if you don’t mind.” Then they turn to Regulus, “Did you want something?”

Regulus shakes his head, “I’ll just have some of your welsh cakes.”

James nods then looks back at Coopey, “That’s all, thank you.” Then the house elf is bounding off further into the kitchens, and they sit down on some stools by the entrance.

“Thank you.” Regulus murmurs.

“Hm? For what?” James tilts their head.

“Being nice to the house elves. They’re so often mistreated, it’s nice to see someone actually care about them and treat them right.”

“Of course, I mean… they deserve to be treated kindly, especially since they’re doing things for us in our everyday lives.” “Do you have house elves at home?”

“No, my mum grew up in a muggle household and loves taking care of the house herself. We keep our house and make food the muggle way because we like it.”

“I’m sure that was weird for Sirius.”

James snorts, “He’s still not allowed in our kitchen from when he almost burned it down the first time he tried to make himself food.”

“I’d expect nothing less from him.” Regulus shakes his head, smiling at the thought of his brother, “He was always dependent on our house elf, though he didn’t treat him very well.”

“Kreacher, right?” James asks, shocking Regulus.

“Yeah… how did you know that?”

James hums, looking off into where Coopey had disappeared, “Sirius has mentioned him a couple times, never talked about him fondly but he’s said his name a couple times, and that you always really liked him.”

Regulus nods, “He was one of the only people that I could confide in when it came to the house, even more so when Sirius started distancing himself from me, he was the only one that was kind to me. That’s… it’s part of the reason that I haven’t taken you up on your offer to leave. I don’t want to leave Kreacher alone in that house.”

“I see.” James hums, opening their mouth to say more, but they don’t get the chance to before Coopey is showing back up with a basket in his hands.

“Here, Master Potter.” The house elf says, offering the basket to James, who takes it gratefully.

“Thank you so much, Coopey, these smell amazing.”

“Of course! Now shoo, shoo!” He scolds, starting to push the two of them out of the kitchens.

James laughs, “Alright, we’re going. Have a good night, Coopey.” And with that, James is guiding Regulus out of the kitchens. The painting slams shut behind them and James jerks their chin, “They don’t like us staying in their space longer than we need to.”

“Most house elves don’t. They like their room to do their work, or so Kreacher has told me.”

“To be fair, my mum also shoves people out of the kitchen when she’s cooking and we’re just standing around,” James laughs, opening the door to the empty classroom that they’ve started to use, “You’d like her a lot. I think she’d like you, too.” Regulus swallows, not wanting to let on how much their words get to him. Nervous as he might be about meeting the Potters, some of the stories that both Sirius and James have told him have almost created a sense of yearning.

“Maybe I’ll try to come over for Christmas break.”

“That’d be great.” James smiles, and Regulus swears that it genuinely lights up the entire room, “We’d love to have you.”

“I’ll…” Regulus clears his throat, having to look away from James, blindly reaching for one of the welsh cakes that James has in the basket Coopey gave them, “I’ll try to convince them to let me stay at the castle over winter hols, then I can go with you and Sirius.”

“I’d love that.” Regulus absolutely prays to whoever is listening that James isn’t able to see the way his cheeks have tinged with what is likely bright red.

Next part

#marauders #james potter #regulus black #dead gay wizards #james x regulus #jegulus #starchaser #nonbinary james #microfic

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silencesscreams · 2 years ago

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can i ask you a question?

james potter x f!reader (smut + muggle!au)

summary: ever since you met james potter in your sophomore year of college, you haven’t been able to deny the effect he had on you, as much as you hated it. he was a player, always got what he wanted and was just stupid, to say the least. sharing a friend group didn’t make it any better. sure, you both just scoffed at each other and would both agree that one another was insufferable. it seemed perfect when it started, thanks to that very drunken night, after a fight on the phone with your asshole boyfriend.

but what happens when you feel like the benefit part wasn’t enough for you?

warnings: getting cheated on and cheating (not on each other but with each other) bad morals, kissing, dom james, making out, degradation?, fingering, penetration, overstimulation, use of y/n once, unprotected (don’t even think of doing that irl i’ve got my eye on u)

“im serious! you have to break up with him, he’s an asshole” said lily through the speakers on your phone, you hated how she was always right.

“i know”, you look away from the screen, viewing your room, as lily kept on talking, you were able to see her facial expressions just because of the sound of her voice, even if you were looking away from the face time display on your phone.

“… and he’s not even pretty! he’s just a cheating piece of garbage” she finished, spitting out the offenses. you smile, even when he was that far away (a whole other continent) he would still fuck up brutally, over and over again. sure, lily didn’t know you were also a ‘cheating piece of garbage’, but your boyfriend did it first, or at least that was what you took comfort in.

“i get it, lil’s, thank you.” you smile, pausing your video.

‘hii, u up?’ is typed in very quickly and sent to a contact with the name of james potter. you went back to face time quickly, heartbeat quickening with the anxiety for a response, in a few seconds you saw the notification ‘be there in five, bringing chinese’ you smile at that, he knew about your obsession with left over asian food.

“gotta sleep, thank you for the talk though” you tell lily, very anxious to turn off the phone and turn on some silly playlist.

“no worries, see you at work monday?” she asked, like if you even had a choice about coming in, you nodded, turning the phone off. the next moments were excruciatingly painful, you hated those 10 minutes more than anything. it was a buildup of anxiety and being nervous if you were getting stood up, of course, that never even happened with james, but really, you weren’t friends like that. or maybe you were, you don’t really know. he was fun once you got to know him, and he did know a lot about you by now. but of course, the friends with benefits couldn’t work out any longer, it never did, did it? someone would always end up catching feelings. its not like its that big of a deal though, its just no one outsmarts it.

these thoughts did consume you until you heard the knock on your door, you had started to recognize his knocks a long time ago, slow one, three quick ones, two quick ones. it was fun now that you thought about it, you waited around 15 seconds at the door, you always did that, you were careful for him to never think you were desperate, being sure he’d tease you about it later if he ever did. and so you open the door, he smiles at you, entering and closing the door, as he’s leaving the food on the kitchen table he starts,

“i brought some-“ and you interrupt him with a kiss, you hate to admit it but you missed him.

“a bit eager, aren’t we?” he teases, pulling away to take off his jacket.

“shut up” you pull him back in, his hands on your waist as he tries to take his shoes off, almost tripping over them but still managing to kiss you while he’s at it. james quickly picked you up and you had your legs were wrapped around him, you could feel his already growing bulge as his hands went under your thighs, your oversized shirt hiking up, as you remembered you probably shouldn’t have opened the door in your underwear. he carries you to your room, the only lighting being your lamp on your desk, you were trying to finish an essay when you got your boyfriends call. you’re thrown onto your bed as he takes off his shirt, glasses foggy, he’s taking them off.

“tell me, were you missing me?” he grins, climbing onto bed, his knee between your legs.

“i hate you” you roll your eyes, and suddenly he was closer than you thought, you tilt your head up, trying to dom him out, at least this one time. he looks smug, and you want o hit him harshly, but you also want him to pin you to your bed and- was he chuckling right now?

“i don’t hear you denying it though” he counters, your cheeks flushing.

that’s probably it for you, you lose. you lose to the conceited assumptions, to the tension, to the way his hair looks, to the darkness in his eyes, to the wetness he was causing between your legs and to the tension.

that was all it took for him to smash his lips against yours. its a kiss so rough, so brutal. that was something you didn’t expect from james potter.

he's pushing your hips harshly into the mattress beneath you, immediately pressing close to you, chests touching and his leg slipping deeper between your legs. your hand is on his neck and it threads into his hair as your teeth clash, both of your hearts thundering.

your noses hit each other; you hope he can feel the adrenaline through your lips. you can certainly feel his. his hand moves up so he's grabbing your thigh, pulling you closer to him. you pull away and immediately attach your lips to the column of his neck, not wanting to have to look at his face. one small groan he lets out causes you to smile against his skin, suddenly realizing that you have just as much of an effect on him as he does on you, even though you're the one who is under. you nip at the flesh on his neck, sucking onto it, making sure to mark.

he moans lightly at that and you feel yourself tremble as your stomach tingles. he tugs onto your hair with one hand, as you start to grind desperately against him. you feel the outline of him, semi hard and desire takes you over. his hand now on your ass, gripping it as you suck another bruise on his neck. he pulls away to look at you, his eyes darkening before kissing you again. your hands trail down his chest, towards his bulge, and as your fingertips graze it, his other hand grabs your wrists and holds them down above your head, only one hand holding them. he takes off your shirt and starts to take off his belt. he takes a minute just to look at you, lace underwear, you were waiting for him.

“what are you doing?” you ask, like you weren’t sure of it already.

“what does it look like i’m doing? im putting you in your place, now be a good girl, how about that?” he teases you, throwing the belt across the room.

“you’re an asshole.” are the only words you can say right now.

“don’t see you complaining right now” he muttered, nipping at your neck, as he left a trail of kisses and bites on your neckline and chest, you weren’t even wearing a bra. he pushes two thick digits into your heat without warning.

“shit!” you yelp, he finds your g-spot easily, nudging against it as he hooks his fingers up, teasing you, his voice sweet and clear when he says, "maybe you'd prefer your boyfriend to fuck you."

you let out a choked noise that had been intended to be a scoff,

“is that what this is about? are you jealous?” you look between your legs to him as his fingers move faster inside of you, your panties discarded elsewhere. the roughness of it was hot. his fingers crook upwards inside of you, making any legible thought damn near impossible. the way his fingers were moving fast and hard inside of you, pushing you towards the edge faster than you'd like to admit.

"maybe i would prefer him," you catch the look that passes over his face, you lean into his ear, teasing him, "bet he could fuck me like i need it." and just like that, you got what you wanted, his fingers thrusted rapidly into you, his thumb stimulating your clit.

“fuck, james!” you moan out.

“dont worry, i can’t fuck you like you need it, right?” he says, voice low, as his fingers keep on thrusting into you, his other hand is on your neck, holding it just hard enough to get you flustered.

“i was kidding! i s-swear” you let out in the midst of moans.

“i can’t understand you, princess. what’d you say?” he wants you to repeat it, god, you were fucked.

“i was kidding! no one can - shit! - do it to me like you can, please james” you beg, reaching your high, you can feel tears coming.

“please what?”

“please james, let me cum”

“ah, sweets” he coos, your fucked out expressions making him even harder, he rubs his thumb onto your cheek, “not yet” he pulls his fingers out and you whine at that, feeling empty.

“ass up, doll” he whispers, you immediately turn around, on shaking hands and knees. “not like that”, he hummed, his hand sliding to the center of your back, firmly pushing you down as your face pressed against the pillow. your shirt slipped down, letting him see you fully. he loved it when you wore lace. his hand runs over the curve of your ass, he could get used to the sight, he loved how responsive you were to his touch too.

as he positioned himself behind you, he undid his zipper and unbuttoned his jeans, his thick tip was pressed up against your hole, pushing your panties aside.

the teasing made your back arch in need but he wanted to make you work for it,

"say please, baby, remember your manners." you probably sounded pathetic, whimpering and whiny, you didnt care though, you needed him.

“please james, fuck me, i need you so bad, please” his hand gives your ass a light tap, signaling he’s going to do it.

“good girl” he murmured, pushing in slowly, your body rocking at the feeling, the stretch of him being in you. you moaned out, a very sweet sound to him.

he pushes into you, looking down and seeing how well you take him. you're whimpering and gasping, the hot and heavy press of his cock against your walls reducing you into a mess of incomprehensible words.

“princess, im only halfway in, you sure you can take it tonight?” he rubbed your shoulder, dipping down his head to kiss your neck. you nodded rapidly, already feeling so full, your hips grinded back against him. he thrusted in the rest of the way, you moaned out, feeling so full and trying to muffle it out with your pillow.

he lets out a groan that makes you wish you were facing him to see his face lost in pleasure. he moans,

"fucking hell, you feel so good my cock," the way your walls fluttered around him when he praised you made him go crazy. "can i move, doll?"

you hummed,

“yes please”, at that, he slowly pulled out, you moaned loudly as he slammed back into you. with your little moans and gaps he sets a rhythm.

ecstasy coursing through you, eyes rolling into the back of your head as he pounded into you, body bouncing on the bed with his thrusts. he placed a hand on your abdomen, needing to hold on to something, making you realize how deep he was hitting. he kept on shoving his dick harder and harder into you, pounding against you roughly. he kisses along the side of your neck, you can feel his bare chest pressing to your back, his breathing ragged in your ear, hips never even stalling,

“such a good girl, right? taking my cock for me, ‘feels so good, love” and you couldn’t do anything but agree in mindless, fucked out whimpers of ‘yes’ and ‘james’.

he pounds into you fast and rough, your cheek pressed against the mattress as you felt his cock wrecking you with each rough roll of his hips, filling you up easily. you nearly scream as the hand that was gripping your ass slipped under and, before you can process it, your eyes are rolling back again as he rolls your clit between deft fingers.

“fuck!” you moaned out, surprised. it was like he memorized every single thing you loved about having sex with him, the way he could find the right spots, his praise, his degradation. you did miss him.

the rolling of his fingers on your clit with the fast-paced thrusts made you gasp in pleasure, tightening around him as he brought you closer to your high. moaning in response to his praises, no tangible sentences able to form. your back arches subconsciously, a silent beg for more.

"james, i'm, fuck, m'gonna," you whine, unable to finish a sentence, too lost in pleasure, "g-gonna cum-"

your weak whimpers made you feel so vulnerable and he found it so. fucking. hot.

“yeah? you gonna cum on my cock like a good girl?” he teased you, pounding into you even faster. driving you to your climax crazy quick, words pushing you further. “go ahead doll, cum on me” he muttered.

your mouth dropped into loud calls of his name, you clenched around him and there was no doubts of the complaints you’d get, the begging growing louder. his thrusts don't stop, they do slow, letting you ride your high out for as long as possible.

once you finish, he flips you over onto your back. he throws your legs over his shoulders, going even deeper.

“wanna see your face when i cum, babe” he continued to thrust at a rapid pace, the snap of his hips wrecking you, as your nails dug into his back. from that position, the base of his cock brushed against your clit.

“cum in me, please” you whimpered as he took sight of you. how your heat flushed lips were parted into a sweet moan, your hair splayed out across the pillowcase, your flustered face screwed up in pleasure.

there wouldn’t be another day where he didnt think about how good you looked under him. the edge of the overstimulation had a familiar tightening in your gut. his hand palming your tit as he groaned out into your ear,

“cum for me again doll, c’mon, be a good girl for me” your back arches off of the bed, your head tipped back as you reach your second high. this one more powerful than the last.

at the feeling of you tensing around him for a second time, he lets out a low groan, the pace of his hips stuttering. your moans and begs from underneath him push him over the edge, burying himself deep inside of you as you gripped hard onto him.

"fuck y/n!" he finishes hard, rolling his hips up hard to meet yours. he feels dazed, he thinks its the hardest he's ever cum.

he pulled out gently, laying down next to you and putting himself back in his trousers.

“you good?” he asked, and you just hummed in response. james smiled, pulling you in.

“listen, gotta tell you something” he whispered, you quickly looked over at him.

“what? did something happen?” you ask, worried, he never really did that.

“yeah, i dont think im a friends with benefits guy.” he said, smiling awkwardly.

“oh” you sigh, confused.

“im more of a boyfriend guy, if yours doesn’t matter with stepping back from his position, after all, he is working in another company and i’d love to make some more business with you and-“ you slap him on the shoulder.

“shut up james.” you smile, rolling your eyes, you decide to play along. “thank you for your advice, mr. potter, he will be fired tomorrow morning, your work starts... now. your first task is to grab me that chinese food in the kitchen because god, im starving.” he gives you a quick peck as he gets up, god did he feel lucky.

maybe not being able to pull off the friends with benefits deal was a good thing after all.

#james potter smut #james potter x reader #james potter #james potter x you #james potter x y/n #james potter fic #lila writes #harry potter smut #harry potter fluff #james potter imagine #james potter oneshot #james potter fanfiction #silencesscreams

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kquil · 2 years ago

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REMUS LUPIN | 17:27 ⏤WHEN I WIN

SUM. : as an underground fighter, remus is compelled to keep you away from it all but your persistant devotion makes his resolve crumble

G. : best friend reader ; underground fighter remus ; muggle au ; modern au ; fluff ; slight angst ; longing and resistance ; there's a lot of tension here oop-

LENGTH : 0.6k

NOT PROOFREAD OR EDITED

“You don’t have to do this (Y/N),” Remus comments, voice soft and gentle as he watches you with tender eyes wrapping up his hands and knuckles with gauze.

“Just let me, Remus,” you counter in a similarly delicate tone. The act helps you cover up the scars and bruises embellishing the skin of his hands, which offers some relief, but it’s immediately taken away as soon as you remember that this was all in preparation for his next fight. After bandaging up his right hand, you don’t let go and stay exactly where you are; standing in between his thighs as he sits atop a table backstage, “...why do you have to do this, Rem?” your voice is shaking and on the verge of crumbling away for rampant sobs to push through. In an attempt to tamper it all down, you play with his large, calloused hands and trace your fingers along the veins that protrude from his scarred skin.

“You know why…” he lifts up your chin, trying to meet your eyes but you can’t look at him. Instead he holds both of your small hands with one of his and lifts your arms up so that he could tuck his face under them and bring you closer by the waist with his free hand. He locks you in his embrace and breathes in your comforting scent, it’s warm and intimate; you smell like home. He’s so lucky you’ve stayed by his side even though you have no obligation to.

“Remus, please,” he didn't answer. Silence follows your plea and it persists even when he suddenly moves to drop down from his perch on the table, turn with you still in his arms, pick you up by the waist to sit you down where he once was. With your positions switched, he locks you in by placing his hands on either side of your thighs and presses his face into the junction of your shoulder and neck with a deep inhale. You are all he needs before a match. You’re his good luck charm, the only thing that can bring peace to his mind and help him rise to victory.

He just hates seeing you so upset over him. He knows you deserve better, so much better than what he can ever hope to offer you, and he should just let you go so that you aren't tied to him but Remus is addicted to your devotion. You’re the closest thing he has to a loving partner. He wants you to know how much you mean to him in the hopes of becoming something more but he’d feel too guilty if he held onto you any tighter than he already is.

“I really appreciate you being here for me…” he rasps beside your ear before proceeding to kiss your temple, “I love you,”

“What was that?” you ask, missing the words he had muttered into your skin. You had a vague idea of what he said but didn’t want to get your hopes up, your eyes gave away your hope, however, and Remus had to pull away before he lost the reins to his resistance. If temptation was personified, it would be you.

Nevertheless, Remus settled for gripping your waist, his thumb sneaking underneath your shirt and fondly massaging your supple skin and groaning at the unsavoury thoughts pervading his mind.

‘She’s my best friend, she’s my best friend she’s my best friend…’ he chanted internally for his own sanity

“Remus I-” you’re cut off by a rapid knocking at the door.

“You’re up! Get out here!”

Remus presses a lingering kiss against your cheek and steps away from you, smiling fondly at the hand you subconsciously reach out to him with, “I’ll tell you what I said when I win the match,” without another word, he’s out the door, eager to get in the ring and win the match.

Fuck being your friend, he’s making you his lover once he’s secured his victory. Like all the underground matches he’s won before, this fight was for you.

A/N : i don't know if there are any underground fighter remus fics out there but i am obsessed

NAVI.

#☽ : TIMESTAMP #remus x reader #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin #remus x you #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin x you #marauders

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theresthesnitch · 2 years ago

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wolfstar raising harry au where harry goes to muggle pre-k and keeps trying to correct the other kids/teacher when they say “mommy/mama” and “daddy” because doesn’t everyone have a “moony/moomoo” and “paddy”

“Hello, you must be Harry’s father. I’m Katie McCoy, his teacher. Won’t you have a seat?” Ms. McCoy smiles kindly at them, so Sirius doesn’t bother to correct her that he’s not Harry’s father. They’ll have to eventually, but he lets it pass, for now.

“Thank you, Ms. McCoy.” Sirius sits next to her. “Harry adores your class. He tells us all about circle time and—what is it, foam paint?.”

She laughs. “Yes. it's just shaving cream and food dye, but the kids love it.” She crosses her hands over her knees. “Are we waiting for--?”

“My partner will be a few minutes late.” Sirius glanced at the clock on the wall, knowing Remus was hurrying from work to be here on time. “We can start now.”

“Alright, though I don’t mind waiting.” Sirius waives her on, and she begins. “Harry is really a wonderful boy. So inquisitive and funny. You’ve done a great job with him.”

Sirius smiles, trying not think of the fact that Harry is inquisitive like his mother and funny like his father. Their loss still hurts. Instead, he says, “We think so too. He’s a great kid.”

“He is.” Her face clouds for a moment, and Sirius wonders what could possibly be coming next. “I do have some concerns though.”

Any number of things rush through Sirius’s head as to what could bring on that comment. Harry is still mourning the loss of his parents, not really understanding why he can see his mum and dad the way other kids could. It’s possible he said something a bit darker than expected for a child.

Or, perhaps he’s had some accidental magic that the school hadn’t reported to them. They’d so far managed to keep Harry’s peculiar abilities under control, but it was possible that things were slipping by. Merlin, he didn’t want to call the Ministry tonight.

“Concerns? What is wrong?” Sirius tries to keep his voice light.

“Well, we’re concerned he may have a bit of a speech impediment.”

That makes Sirius pull back. In the entire world of problems he has, the talkative, exuberant little boy having a speech impediment was not one of them. His diction was impeccable, and Remus was always saying he’d be a natural at Transfiguration because of it. Just like James.

“I don’t think we’ve noticed that.” He says slowly, not sure what else to say.

“Well, it’s a very subtle difference, and I don’t think that we’d have noticed so much, except he keeps correcting the other kids to his pronunciations as well.” Her brows crease, and she gives her head a small shake. “On correction, he insists that he is correct.”

“What words is he getting wrong?” Sirius asks.

“Daddy and Mummy. He says it like—”

Before she can finish, the door opens and Remus sweeps in, a kind smile on his face. “Sorry, I’m late. Traffic was a nightmare getting here.” Sirius nearly snorts, knowing Remus apparated directly there. “What have I missed?”

Sirius looked at him as he sat down in the seat next to him. “Apparently, Harry might have a speech impediment.”

Remus looked surprised. “I certainly haven’t noticed anything like that.”

Ms. McCoy looked between them. “I’m sorry, who are you?”

Sirius bristles at the question. “This is Remus. We’re Harry’s guardians.”

“His guardians?” She looks more confused. “But he talks about going home with Mummy and Daddy?”

Sirius tilts his head as she asks the question. “I thought you said he was saying Mummy and Daddy wrong?”

“Yes, well.” She squares her shoulders, clearly thrown off. “Well, he’s been saying it something like Paddy and—”

“And Moony?” Remus finishes with a smile. “Yes, that’s what he calls us. Not Mummy and Daddy, but Moony and Paddy.”

Her face rounds out into an O. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea. Bit of unusual names for his—did you say guardians?”

Sirius nods, unable to speak, and Remus squeezes his hand. “Yes. Harry’s parents are—” he clears his throat “—were James and Lily. They were our friends, and now we are Harry’s guardians.”

“I’m so sorry for your loss, and for Harry’s. I had no idea.” She begins flipping through pages in front of her making notes. “His file didn’t mention anything about it.”

“We didn’t mention it when we enrolled him,” Remus says, squeezing his hand a bit tighter. “We didn’t want him to have to answer a lot of questions on it, and we still don’t.”

“Of course,” she looks up from her notes, meeting both of their eyes. “I’ll keep it quiet.”

“Thank you.” Remus smiles, with a raised eyebrow. “So no speech impediment then?”

“No, no I think that clears that up.” She looks at her notes again. “Let’s see what else I have on Harry.”

***

When they arrive home, Remus handles seeing Mary out while Sirius heads back to the kitchen where Harry is coloring. Sirius pulls up a chair next to him, grabbing his own piece of paper and a purple crayon. “Heya, Haz.”

“Hi, Paddy.” Harry doesn’t look up from his coloring. “Did you see my teacher?”

“I did, buddy.” Sirius draws the outline of an elephant, which he starts coloring in. “Do you know that not every kid in your class has a Paddy and a Moony?”

Harry looks up and beams brightly at him. “I know. I think I’m the luckiest boy in the world.”

Sirius chokes out a laugh, and mostly manages to hold back a tear. Harry looks down at his page, coloring again, and Sirius catches Remus’s eye as he walks in the room again, leaning against the door frame. “You know, I think you just might be.”

#wolfstar #wolfstar raising harry #sirius black #remus lupin #dadfoot

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morelikeravenbore · 1 month ago

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Sk8er Boi AU wasn't on my bingo card this morning but here we are.

Crackfic WIP below.

Wizarding folk, among which Sebastian was usually proud to include himself, had a distinct fondness for cobblestones. Great for aesthetics, sure: nothing screamed eccentric magical village quite like alarmingly uneven stone roads, but what worked for aesthetics was absolutely shite for skateboarding.

That's right, skateboarding.

Luckily, Sebastian was a wizard — and quite a gifted one at that — and though his professors from his Hogwarts days would likely argue that inventing a hovering charm to ride a Muggle skateboard over otherwise un-skateable terrain was a waste of his talents, he was inclined to disagree. Especially now, as he hurtled down the main street of Hogsmeade, dodging carts, villagers and stray cats at speeds that rivalled the newest model of the Firebolt.

No, far from a waste of time, this was undoubtedly the most impressive use of his magical prowess since he'd successfully cast the Killing Curse on the first go.

— Can I Make It Any More Obvious? coming soon.

(Aurélie's outfit is by @ominouscorridors, Sebastian's hoodie by @miss--soapy)

#Sk8erBoi!Sebastian #he was a punk #she did ballet #what more can i say #hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #aurelie collins #morelikeravenbore writes #sebastian sallow oneshot

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weird-obsessed-girl · 1 year ago

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Wolfstar Fic Rec List

by order of word count. still adding.

even though i've only recently got into the marauders era, i have already racked up so much i want to read. this is me trying to keep on top of it.

heres my masterlist which includes jegulus, drarry and tomarry

I Wish I Could Miss You - Engie_Ivy

Hurt no Comfort, Ex-Azkaban Sirius, Angst | G | 800

early morning rain - woman_in_the_moon

domestic fluff, established relationship, talks of uni but haven't graduated from Hogwarts yet | G | 1.2k

On the Edge - KittyCargo

Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut | E | 2k

Let's Go Out With a Bang - orphan_account

Modern Setting, Deaf Sirius, Customer Service | 2k

Seasons - KittyCargo

Getting Together, Meet Cute, Teacher Remus | G | 3k

Swipe Left for Safety - Remy_Writes5

Flirting, Meet-cute, Modern au | M | 3k

tell me what you want, say it like an oath - drowsyanddazed

friends to lovers, mutual pining, jealous remus, marauders era, first kiss, getting together, sharing a bed | T | 3k

Five Times Remus Lupin Rendered Sirius Black Speechless (and the One Time Sirius Turned the Tables) - remuslives23

5 + 1, Fluff, Mpreg | M | 3k

Close to You - sad_gay_and_lonely

sirius and eyeliner, boys in love, making out, getting together, marauders era, sweet | T | 3k

Remus “The Casanova of Gryffindor tower” Lupin - nephele_baino29

mutual pining, jealous sirius, fluff, love advise, love confessions, get together, marauders era | 4k

A Supplementary Story - elixirsoflife

Modern Muggle Au, Vampire Sirius, Fluff and Crack | M | 5k

The Love There That's Sleeping - victoria_p (musesfool)

M | 5k

Glow Up - CelestialWolf72

glow up, fluff and smut, getting together | E | 5k

flickering shadows of love - I_am_Eli

angst, hurt/comfort, hopeful ending, pining, requited unrequited love, pre-slash, panic attacks | M | 5k

Remus Lupin and the Case of The Missing Jumper - ThatFilmGraduate

No Voldy, Established Relationship, Fluff and Humour | 5k

(UN)WANTED - NightTempus

dom remus, post-the prank, angst with happy ending, getting together, possessive remus, makeup sex | E | 5k

Identically Pining - brandileigh2003

disabled remus, oblivious remus, oblivious sirius, get together, woomflower friendship, howgarts era | T | 6k

(in my room) i want you here - dykesiriusblack

marauders era, sixth year, spin the bottle, first kiss friends to lovers, pining | T | 6k

Where all roads meet (waiting for you) - blueberrywizard

character study, angst and feels, hurt/comfort, non-linear, marauders era, established relationship | E | 7k

The Wolf, the Dog and the Pup - Mechie63

wolfstar raise harry, grimmauld place, therapy, angst | 7.5k

Best Friends Brother - seaveymalfoy

i think this is more focused on Jegulus but wolfstar is very present, happy ending, getting together, brotherly relationship between sirius and regulus | 7k

You can't do magic, the muggles are watching - GeekMom13

voldy died in 1st war, dadfoot, moomy, kid fic, fix-it, good narcissa | E | 10k

A Store of Happiness - coyotesuspect

Canon Divergence, Raising Harry | G | 11k

Flickers of a Flame - DestielsDestiny

hurt/comfort, x-men fusion, found family, BAMF sirius and remus | T | 12k

The End is a Great Place to Start - A_diantum, mindabbles

marauders era, getting together, fluff and smut | E | 12k

Secret Letters - Msmoony_m

child abuse, hurt/comfort, walburga finds out | M | 13k

A Wolf In Sheep's Clothing - writingwillow

meet-cute, baby harry, no voldy, remus didnt go to hogwarts, fliff, getting together | T | 14k

A Story of a Not-So-Innocent Remus and a Too-Jealous-for-his-own-good Sirius - gracegraylove

top remus, jealous sirius, hung remus, friends to lovers, fluff and smut | E | 14k

Too Little Too Late - swings_and_roundabouts

sad as shit, hurt/comfort, angst, exes, grief/mourning, modern setting | M | 14k

You're All I Need To Get By - jlpierre

boyfriends, smut, some humour, flirting, established relationship, secret relationship | E | 16k

Everyone Is Someone At Home - FivePips, shadow_prince

historical au, viking remus, celtic prince sirius, banter, resolved sexual tension | E | 16k

>20

The Shower Incident - licensedtofangirl

Marauders Era, Oblivious Remus, Mutual Pining, Getting Together | E | 20k

C'mon, Baby, Let Me Get To You - seaxnce

also jegulus, 10 things i hate about you, getting together, marauders era | 21k

Better in the Morning - BrigidFaye

fix-it, fluff and angst, mating bond, marauders era, major character undeath, dumbledore bashing, reunions | E | 22k

Multiplying Parents - heartofspells

get together, harry sets wolfstar up, meet-cute, humour and fluff, found family, muggle au, secret dating, sirius raises harry | T | 23k

Kintsugi Souls - PhantomGrimalkin

Soulmate Au, Fluff and Angst, Idiots in Love, Child Abuse | M | 25k

holding Out - saintgarbanzo

raising harry, canon divergence, getting together, angst, with a happy ending, unresolved sexual tension | E | 25k

Finding Andromeda - ThatFilmGraduate

established relationship, no war au, found family, sirius tries to find andromeda, anxious sirius, smut, family reunions, happy ending | E | 26k

Not If It's You - estas_absentis

sirius gets a trial, getting back together, remus raising harry, then wolfstar, canon divergence, angst with happy ending | E | 26k

When the rain washes you clean you'll know - starredscars

angst, pining, marauders era, slow burn, mutual pining, fluff and angst, hurt/comfort, jealousy | M | 26k

Neither Hide nor Hair - puuvillaa

one night stands, remus didnt go to hogwarts au, no voldy, happy ending, auror sirius, werewolf politics, they dont know eachother, and think the other is a muggle | E | 28k

Theories of Magic and Mind - M_Leigh

Memory Loss, past child abuse, Hogwarts Era, First war, lie low at Lupin's | T | 28k

Finders, Keepers - varsavia

canon divergence, lily and james live, established relationship, professor remus, domestic fluff, happy ending, parents wolfstar | T | 28k

Antics and Romantics - Mystirium_Inc

friends to lovers, marauders era, get together, first kiss, romance, eavesdropping, smut, coming out | E | 28k

His Secret Soulmate - TheBiButterfly

fluff, soulmates, marauders era, valentines day, frottage | M | 29k

a memory stolen, a memory gained - maladaptivewriting

marauders era, memory loss, getting together, coming out, smut and fluff, child abuse | E | 30k

Common Woodbrown - imochan

canon divergence, raising harry, character study | M | 36k

That Old Black Magic - fallovermelikestars

Marauders Era, Remus is homeschooled until 6th year | M | 37k

Adventures in Solitude - deathcabformoony

getting back together, peter in azkaban, raising harry, mutual pining, canon divergence | T | 37k

Man On The Moon - monetstcroix, Tpants

canon divergence, getting back together, post 1st war, angst | M | 39k

The Most Noble and Ancient House of…Lupin-Black? - Zip1106

grimmauld place, canon compliant, fluff, wolfstar after azkaban | T | 39k

I Think I’m Feeling It Now - valkyriesforlife

also jegulus, bad parenting, friends to lovers, enemies to lovers, slowburn, marauders era, hurt no comfort | M | 40k

that’s the art of getting by - sarewolf

remus raising harry, canon divergence, sirius black is freed from azkaban, angst with happy ending | M | 40k

that’s the art of getting by - sarewolf

Post-Marauders Era, Post-War, Raising Harry, Angst with a happy ending | M | 41k

When the ice burns - duermevela

muggle au, fluff and angst, orphan remus, happy ending, found family | M | 44k

R.J.L. Reads A Self Help Book - Lassolo

Pining, No Voldy, Sixth Year, Self confidence, Marauders Era, Get together, friends to lovers, happy ending, jealous remus and sirius, love confessions | M | 45k

>50

It Won't Come to That - areyoutherelarry

fix-it, remus saves sirius from azkaban and gets harry, sirius and remus live, wolfstar raise harry, starts in marauders era | M | 50k

The Fault of Walls - dustmouth, maraudersaffair

alcoholism, depression, grimmauld place, angst with happy ending, canon divergence, second war, first time/love | E | 52k

Halcyon Days - enigmaticblue

focus on harry but wolfstar raise harry, sirius lives, canon divergence | T | 57k

Sirius Black and the Great Dress Code Revolution of 1977 - notspicy

non binary sirius, sixth year, marauders era, pining, oblivious remus, getting together | E | 61k

The Scientific Method - mcdynamite

Mauraders Era, miscommunication, Pining, requited unrequited love, sharing a bed, friends to lovers, smut, first time, turth or dare | E | 62k

waterloo - frogsandfairies

Friends lovers, fake relationship, truth or dare, mutual pining, marauders era, fluff and humour, coming out | T | 67k

A Month and a Mandrake - etymolodrarry

sirius and crew becoming animagi, fluff and angst, marauders era, getting together, fluff and angst, slow burn, mutual pining, coming out, magical theory | T | 69k

Let Me Get What I Want (This Time) - Sierra_Sitruc

Canon Divergence, Slow Burn, Fix-It, Oblivious Sirius | E | 70k

Boy - hypercharles

Canon Divergence, Homeless Harry found, Raised by Sirius, Powerful Harry | no rating | 71k

Sirius Black & The Six - BellaBabe

non-magic au, getting together, pining, modern setting, past child abuse, band fic, inspired by daisy jones, angst with happy ending | M | 79k

It Was Only A Kiss! - remuslives23

boys in love, honestly idk | M | 79k

Drunken Nights - Galxcs

heartthrob Sirius, Marauders Era, mutual pining, depression, alcohol abuse | T | 79k

Into the Dark - PhantomGrimalkin

also drarry, time travel, established relationships, first war, slow burn drarry, suicidal thoughts, manipulative dumbledore, canon divergence | T | 89k

>100k

Stealing Harry - copperbadge

sirius saves harry from dursleys, bookshop keeper sirius, found family, canon divergence | M | 100k

Take a Look Through My Eyes - CiciWeezil

Arthur meets and invites Newt Schamander over, Peter is discovered, remus deals with the truth, takes in sirius, wolfstar raise harry | T | 117k

Would That I - third_crow

Soulmates, Slow Burn, Hurt/Comfort, Everybody Lives | T | 131k

Best Friend's Brother - bizarrestars

modern marauders, muggle au, flirting, falling in love, getting together, humour | M | 329k

#Marauders Era #Wolfstar #Wolfstar Fic #Wolfstar fic rec #Remus Lupin x Sirius Black

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lumionehasmyheart · 15 days ago

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Sailor!Draco | Muggle AU | his POV

Draco has been off to sea for months and comes home to his wife.

A love he'd cross oceans for.

inspired by the Sailor Song I just had to sit down and write this little drabble.. <3

“Oh won’t you kiss me on the mouth and love me like a sailor, and when you get a taste, can you tell me what’s my flavour? I don’t believe in god but I believe that you are my saviour,[…] And when we’re getting dirty, I forget all that is wrong I sleep so I can see you, cause I hate to wait so long”

Sailor Song, Gigi Perez

“Hermione,” her name left his lips as if it were the salvation to his prayers on endless dark nights.

When the wind, sharp and bitter, would tear at him, biting through his coat and numbing his skin—leaving him frozen to the bone, but it was no comparison to the dull ache he felt in his heart, an ache of longing only her presence could soothe.

His wedding band, now hanging around his neck on pale, chilled skin, was the only warmth he had left.

The only physical reminder of her.

Yet, he caught fleeting memories of her in so many moments while he was off at sea.

In the moment when the waves tenderly lapped at the ship, mirroring a lover’s caress.

In the moment when the sky was cloudless and the stars shone brighter than he’d ever seen them before—and still, they could not compare to her beauty.

In the moment when a ferocious storm darkened the sky, endless and consuming in its wrath, as passionate as their love.

In the moment when he wondered about the immeasurable depth of the ocean, a seemingly bottomless abyss with no end—almost like his heart, withholding its love for her.

In the moment when everything was quiet, except for the gentleness of nature’s call, as reassuring as listening to her heartbeat.

The longing to see her again was growing day by day, one worse than the next.

And when he finally, finally laid his pale eyes on hers again, everything clicked in place.

Every raging unyielding storm at sea, every aching, exhausting and lonely moment, every second of despair and need and pure, raw missing, was forgotten because he was with her again.

Kissing her lips again felt like the first breath of oxygen after being submerged in bottomless, dark water, with no hope of reaching the surface.

Feeling her under his fingertips, pressed against his body, was like falling asleep with the hope of dreaming of her while he was away.

The salty scent of the ocean and nature paled in comparison to inhaling her sweet scent.

Draco kissed her as if his lips had to be everywhere at once, a frantic need washing over him as his hands cradled her—almost in disbelief that she was truly there. No dream, no hallucination.

“Hermione,” his breath was shallow, as if he had swum for hours to shore, ignoring every heaviness and ache in his spent body, only to be with her as soon as he could.

The soft laugh that escaped her lips as she arched against him, drove him mad.

Her caramel-brown eyes held the warmth of the sun, and even though Draco had watched hundreds of sunrises and sunsets, hers was the one he would choose to watch for the rest of his life.

They held an ocean full of love and all he wanted was to drown in it.

“Draco, I am here..it’s alright,” her voice was angelic, and so unreal, that he whined, bringing his lips back to hers in a desperation that made her breathless.

Claiming.

Convincing him that she was here, truly.

Naked skin pressed to naked skin, a tangled mess of limbs on their bed.

A shared love so deep, the ocean would be jealous.

“I’ve missed you every second of every day,” he whispered, his long fingers intertwined in her curls, as he pressed his lips feverishly to every inch of her face, “each passing day only made it worse, I wonder I am not crazy, yet,” the corner of his lips tugged into a smile as his eyes travelled over her face, taking in every freckle, every little detail as if she might vanish in the next second.

“But you are crazy… for me, for us,” she whispered, and her eyes held a gleam that melted his heart right then and there.

Love wasn’t a powerful enough word for what he felt for her.

Their fingers intertwined, her wedding band perfectly warm against his skin.

His wife.

He loved her as the sea loved.

In gentle waves and ferocious storms.

“I love you more than yesterday.. And tomorrow, I will love you more than today. What if, one day my heart will be so full, it can’t contain it any longer?”

She was kissing him fiercely then, her fingers tangled in his pale hair, pulling him closer.

Every day, he was grateful for how lucky he was to feel her love.

To share a love that overcame oceans and mountains.

A love to come home to.

His other half.

His skin felt on fire, her touch the only soothing balm to the torture.

“I am yours, already, Draco. And will be forever,” she sealed her words with a sweet kiss and Draco only smiled, cradling her face in his hands, rough and chapped from months at sea.

“My wife,” he rasped, one hand coming to wrap around her thigh, pulling her impossibly closer to him.

No space was wasted where he couldn’t touch her body—and still, it wasn’t enough.

He had to make up for the months he had been gone, feverish with the need to feel her.

He was hard against her soft body, his hands roaming her impeccable skin as if he could soak up the feeling of every inch of her. A breathy moan left her sinfully red lips, and it was his undoing.

His unravelling.

With a mirrored moan, he buried himself in her, uniting not only their bodies but their very souls. Draco never wanted to feel, hear, or touch anything else for the rest of his life. If death found him here, If death found him here, he would go blissfully, at peace.

Their love was branded into each other's souls.

“Draco,” she moaned, her breath hitching, as she cradled him closer, her sharp fingernails digging into his skin but he welcomed the pain.

“Tell me you’re mine, my love, please,” desperation, need and ache lanced his voice as he reluctantly withdrew his hips, not wanting to leave her but needing to create some friction or else he surely would lose his mind.

Breaths mingled, hearts beat together as they drowned in the depths of each other's eyes.

“I’m yours and yours only, Draco. My husband,” she rested her forehead against his, her lips stretching into the softest of smiles. A smile meant for only him.

That was his favourite.

The touches, the smiles, the giggles, the glances only he knew.

They were his, leaving an imprint on his soul he would never forget.

“Again,” he murmured, setting a steady rhythm as he moved within her, their bodies merging in perfect harmony, as if they had known this dance forever. It was etched into their bodies, hearts, and souls.

He was made for her.

She was made for him.

Together, they were complete.

“Yours, husband,” she whispered, her voice thick with need and longing, a desperation that matched his own moan. Her thighs quivered around him, and as a single “oh, please,” left her lips, Draco drowned in her.

She was everywhere, consuming and devouring him entirely, leaving nothing behind.

His hips snapped quicker, his lips mumbling sweet nothings against hers as he made love to her, as he claimed her in every way there was, bringing her pleasure and love and even the stars from the sky itself . When Hermione finally cried his name, he felt complete, as though her love had mended the void in his chest that had cleaved open in her absence. And as he surrendered to his own release, he was flooded with love, his heart aching in the sweetest way possible.

They collapsed, his body settling on hers, never wanting to let go.

His eyes fluttered as her fingers carded softly through his hair.

Home.

He was home.

#harry potter #dramione #draco malfoy #draco x hermione #ao3 fanfic #fanfiction #muggle au #fluff #so much love

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constitutionalweasleymonarchy · 11 months ago

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Romione kiss - 1813 edition

From the most recent update to my Regency Muggle AU, The Pride of Burrough House: chapter 23. I love writing Romione kisses and wanted to share this one.

“You’re full of odd questions today,” he remarked curiously.

When she didn’t respond, he decided, “No, I take that back — ” He sent her a sly look. “You’re full of odd questions every day — Hey!”

He laughed as she swatted him with her book.

“Now listen here, miss — ”

Hermione wasn’t expecting it, and the book slipped from her fingers easily when Ron grabbed it, rolling away from her and rising to his knees

“ — that’s no way to treat — ” He paused, appraising the cover. “Now this one I haven’t seen before.

“Pride and Prejudice,” he recited as though reading aloud in class. His eyes glinted wickedly. “Is it about you?”

“Oh!” She lunged, but he was too fast for her, jumping to his feet and tucking it behind his back.

“It’s about a girl who meets a very rude boy,” she informed him pointedly, rising herself and brushing off her skirts. “Now give it here.”

Ron evaded her once again by lifting it high above his own head, feigning indignation. “Well, ask me nicely!”

She huffed.

“Mr Weasley,” she goaded, saccharine and affectedly courteous, “might I please have my book back?”

She punctuated her request by sticking out her tongue.

His laugh was the sort you couldn’t hear but could see, and he obliged her. When she grasped the small tome, though, her fingers closed over his and he didn’t let go, not right away.

Not for the first time she noticed that something about standing so close to him, face-to-face, set her nerves jangling — something inscrutable between them that made it hard to breathe, and not just because they were still breathless from their play.

Perhaps it was because they’d been so deliberately avoiding talking about it, instead talking in circles around it. Perhaps it was because they’d quietly refused to give it a name, that it grew impatient and decided to declare itself.

Whatever the reason, Ron decided to see about something, and Hermione decided to let him. She knew what was going to happen almost the moment the idea formed in his mind, just by his little intake of breath. Even so, at the first (somewhat inartful) clasp of their lips against one another, Hermione inhaled sharply. The book tumbled, abandoned, to the ground.

Ron’s face was flushed when he pulled away, and shyer than she’d ever seen him. He struggled to find his voice, and Hermione realised she couldn’t bear to hear him say he was sorry. Because she wasn’t, not at all.

Hermione solved that problem by kissing him again. She saw his clear blue eyes go wide, saw his hands gesture awkwardly at his sides, afraid in that second to do anything with them. Finally, when her hands rested at his shoulders, his came up to softly frame her face.

Hermione had always thought she was too sensible for this sort of thing. That maybe someday there’d be someone, because that was a nice thought, in its way; but not yet, when she still had so much to learn and do.

The trouble was, from that moment on, every minute of every day, Hermione wanted very little else than to be kissing Ron Weasley.

#romione fanfic #fic excerpt #romione #ron x hermione #muggle au #regency au #ron weasley #hermione granger #ronsgirlfriday #burrough house #romione kiss

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ourloveisforthelovely · 2 years ago

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The Words "Best Friends" Become Redefined. Part 4

Regulus Black AU

Summary: You had been Regulus’ friend since childhood and now his mistress. The war had changed many things, Regulus among them. Now its time to decide if you should put your self-worth over missing someone who was gone.

Pairings: Regulus Black x Reader

Rating: M- smut

Link to Part 3

Songs in Chapter Just Pretend by Bad Omens and Push by Matchbox Twenty

_____

I'm not afraid of the war you've come to wage against my sins. I'm not okay, but I can try my best to just pretend. So will you wait me out or will you drown me out? So will you wait me out or will you drown me out? (at the bottom). I can wait for you at the bottom. I can stay away if you want me to. I can wait for years if I gotta. Heaven knows I ain't getting over you….

“He’s not going to die tonight…I won’t let him.”

The words left your mouth a little colder than expected. While you were more or less speaking to yourself versus providing Kreacher with some hopeful comfort…the feelings were still cold…almost hopeless. Did you know that you could save Regulus? Yes, you could patch anyone up. You had spent years patching Remus up after full moons. There wasn’t much healing that you couldn’t do.

Would Regulus wake up and thank you? Probably not. You weren’t about to get your hopes up only to have them crushed. As much as you wanted Regulus to wake up and tell you that he loved and missed you…you knew that you had a better chance at winning the muggle lottery. You wanted nothing more than to have your best friend back and to have some kind of actual romantic relationship but again…it was pointless.

But he cried for me…he wanted me…

Those thoughts alone were so conflicting. You couldn’t help but feel confused. If Regulus was crying for you then it sounded like he cared. Right?

Don’t get your hopes up.

Taking a breath, you reached for the basin of water that Sirius had brought you. You reached out and gently dabbed at Regulus’ filthy face. When you were satisfied with him looking somewhat better you slowly reached forward and unbuttoned his black shirt. When you saw the scars and red claw marks on his snowy skin, it took all that you had not to cry. Regulus was in worse shape than you thought. The potion, whatever Voldemort threw together, had definitely done a number on Regulus. Time would only tell if there were any long-lasting consequences.

He was so brave…so brave and so smart.

You couldn’t help smiling at the thought. Once again, Regulus proved just how smart of a man he was. You were proud of him. There was no other way to admit it. Regulus had put together a puzzle that The Order had been working on for a long while. He had put together the puzzle and then took it upon himself to “deal with” the problem at hand.

He was so brave and foolish.

“Will he be okay?”

You looked up at Sirius’ question as he pulled you from your thoughts. The concerned older brother in your friend was clearly coming out. It didn’t matter that it had been ages since either brother had talked to the other. Sirius still loved Regulus. He still needed Regulus (even though Regulus probably didn’t feel the same way).

“He will. I need to get all of these cuts patched up. After that, we need to just let him sleep. His body knows what to do. The best that we can do is wait.”

Sirius nodded. He wasn’t totally satisfied with your answer but decided not to push it. Sirius knew that you were struggling at the moment and that badgering you with questions wouldn’t be doing anyone any good.

Remus’ hand on the small of his back made Sirius turn.

“Let’s give them some privacy.”

He said in a soft tone. Remus wanted to talk to you more about your relationship with Regulus but decided now wasn’t the right time. Remus knew you better than you knew yourself at points. Remus would talk to you when times were better. He could wait until then to be a “big brother.”

Sirius meanwhile, turned and followed Remus to the door. He hesitated before turning back but decided to. When he did, his heart sank seeing you sitting at Regulus’ side, your hand wrapped around his. Your eyes were hyper-focused on Regulus’ face before reaching out to stroke some hair away from his face.

“I can wait for you at the bottom. I can stay away if you want me to. I can wait for years if I gotta. Heaven knows I ain't getting over you….”

When Regulus’ eyes fluttered open, it took him a good minute before things came into focus. When he was able to see clearly, Regulus was surprised to see Sirius, James, and Remus all looking at him. All three men looked less than pleased which made Regulus raise an eyebrow.

“So…is this what happens when you die? You end up stuck in a room full of people that hate you?”

James, from his place on the dresser, crossed his arms over his chest.

“You aren’t dead…at least not yet.”

Sirius came in next.

“What the hell, Regulus?”

Regulus moved to sit up but froze as sharp pain radiated through his body. He felt as if he had been hit by a muggle car and then put back together with spellotape. Wincing, he finally moved to sit up.

“What do you mean?”

Regulus snapped back. He had half hoped that you would be in the room but there was no trace of you.

“You know what we mean. Kreacher told us everything when he brought you here half-dead. When people show up on my doorstep bleeding like a stuck pig and out cold, I tend to think that something was wrong.”

Sirius replied, in an extra snarky tone. Remus raised an eyebrow before taking his turn to speak.

“Kreacher told us about the cursed object. Is there something that you need to tell us? What exactly is Voldemort doing?”

Regulus sighed. This was not how he wanted his day to go. He didn’t expect his day to go anyway. He honestly expected to be dead…and Regulus had been fine with that.

“You lot know nothing.”

“Uh, yeah that is why we are sitting here talking to you.”

Sirius sassed back. Remus gave Sirius a look before turning back to the younger Black brother.

“Regulus, we have a feeling that you know a lot more than you are saying. I also don’t think you would have intentionally hurt yourself for no reason.”

Regulus raised an eyebrow.

“You know nothing about me, Lupin. I wasn’t about to sit back and watch him be with the woman that I love.”

Regulus snapped while glaring at Sirius. James, Sirius, and Remus all looked at Regulus as if he were mad. Regulus again groaned.

“Y/n, you fucking toss pot! I saw the two of you together one evening at a bar. You were holding her a lot closer than friends hold each other.”

Sirius blinked before bursting out into a fit of giggles.

“Mate, are you insane? Oh, sweet merciful crap, Regulus, I am not dating Y/n. I’m with Remus. I was only dancing with Y/n because she was nearly in tears over you. You have hurt her so much over the past year and you don’t even seem to care or realize it.”

Regulus looked pouty for a moment before speaking.

“I had to keep her away to keep her safe. The colder that I was to her the safer that she was. If she knew what I was doing…if she knew what Voldemort was up to…it could have been too dangerous. Where is she?”

James took a breath. He was trying to be the logical unproblematic one. Normally that Remus' job but James knew that when it came to you, Remus would be irrational and ready to explode.

“She’s an auror and is on a job. Regulus, whatever your reasoning, Y/n still got hurt. I think that you owe her a few thousand thank yous and apologies. If it wasn’t for her, you would be dead.”

Regulus was quiet a moment before looking out the window in silence. He considered his words before speaking. You had never let it slip about what your job was. Regulus knew that you were part of The Order. That was dangerous enough. Now that Regulus knew you were actively going out and putting yourself in danger everything was worse.

“It's horcruxes. That’s what Voldemort is making.”

Sirius, James, and Remus all appeared suddenly shaken. They had guessed that was what Kreacher was referring to when he said “cursed object” but also didn’t really want to assume or get too shaken up too quickly. It appeared that they were definitely in the wrong on that one.

“Horcruxes…are you sure?”

Remus questioned. Regulus nodded.

“Positive. I put it together a long time ago. I could have come to you lot with the information but I also didn’t want any of you getting hurt. It wouldn’t have been fair. If I told Y/n, she would have wanted to come along with me on the hunt. I wasn’t about to let that happen.”

“But you didn’t hesitate in sleeping with her and tearing her down to feeling like nothing.”

Remus said, his voice sounding colder. Now that he had the information that he needed, the older brother in him was ready to fight. So what if he was typically the rational one? He would leave that role to Sirius or James. Right now, Remus was ready to be the “big brother” and start kicking ass.

“I’ll admit that my actions weren’t ideal but it was with purpose. Again, if you would have listened to what I said, it was so she wouldn’t…”

Remus held up a hand.

“Bullshit excuse, Regulus! You’re extremely lucky that your brother is standing between us and I care about Y/n’s feelings or I would kill you.”

Regulus raised an eyebrow. He wasn’t about to tangle with Remus Lupin. Regulus knew that if he wanted any fair shot with you attacking your older brother would be one hell of a dumb move.

“Take comfort in the fact that I feel miserable.”

Regulus commented. Remus snarled angrily.

“Oh, I am. I am warning you now. Stay away from Y/n. She deserves so much better than what she would ever get with you.”

Sirius finally decided to come in. He gave his boyfriend an approving nod.

“Go get some air, mate.”

Remus took a breath before walking from the room without another word. He definitely needed the air. Something told Remus that he had better buckle up because the shit show was just getting started.

I’ll always fight for Y/n. She and I have always had each other’s back. No one will come in-between that.

Remus thought before leaving the house without another word.

A few hours later, you got home feeling more than exhausted. After a trip to Azkaban, you wanted nothing more than to collapse in a hot bath and drown in bubbles. The house was silent when you stepped in and locked the kitchen door behind you.

You made a mental note to go check on Regulus but you needed a drink first. If Regulus was awake you would honestly be surprised.

What a day!

You thought before switching on the radio and moving to pour some fire whiskey.

Said I don't know if I've ever been good enough. I'm a little bit rusty, and I think my head is cavin' in. And I don't know if I've ever been really loved by a hand that's touched me. I feel like something's gonna give and I'm a little bit angry, well. This ain't over, no, not here not while I still need you around. You don't owe me, we might change, yeah

“Fuck.”

You groaned before switching the radio right back off. The last thing that you really wanted to do was get lost in your feelings. After spending the last hour in Azkaban helping with an interrogation, you were feeling crappy enough.

“You don’t look well.”

Your head snapped up seeing Regulus in the doorway. This was the last thing that you expected. You wanted nothing more than to get up and hug Regulus but you didn’t. The logical side in your head said to not even bother.

“You’re awake. I suppose you're feeling decent enough to be joining the rest of society. Sorry if no one rolled out the welcome mat, we have problems right now.”

You grumbled. Regulus raised an eyebrow. Your rather sullen tone slightly surprised Regulus. While he didn’t expect you to jump into his arms with joy, he expected something else. He wasn’t sure why he was expecting something different. The last time that the two of you were together it wasn’t exactly happy. Sure it was hot steamy dirty sex but the ending was a suckfest.

“Oh, I got enough of a welcome. Now back to you being an auror. You never told me that.”

You leaned back in your chair. Regulus never waited for the right time to bring things up. Why he would wait and ask if you really were an auror?

“There is a lot that you haven’t told me too. Like, you go on some death mission over Horcruxes. Why you treated me like shit…I get that we aren’t best friends anymore but I expected something. I expected to be treated better than some piece of ass that spread her legs for you.”

Regulus was silent for a moment.

“Would you like some chocolate? I think that prison wore off on you.”

You shook your head and got up to go pace around the room.

“You don’t get it, do you? God damn it, Regulus! Everything reminds me of you. My fucking patronus is your animagus form…I can’t do anything without thinking of you. I don’t know why I care so much but I bloody do! I wasn’t ready to let go of you. You have no problems in just letting go of a fucking friendship that was years and years long but I do. Every time I try to move on, all I think of is you…but I’m not doing it now. I can’t keep doing it. You were brought in here half dead last night and for a brief moment I thought that I would lose you…just like I lost you before. You are the coldest, cruelest person that I know. You can't just make someone love you and then check out whenever you damn well, please…”

Regulus stepped forward and moved to comfort you. The expression on his face alone made your heart break all over again. This was your Regulus…your best friend…the Regulus that you loved.

“Y/n, I was being cold to keep you scared away…if you weren’t near me all of the time you were safe. The less you knew the better. It kept the monsters away…”

You moved to avoid letting Regulus touch you. Right now, you couldn't handle anything gentle. You would go to pieces.

“The monsters were you, darling.”

You turned walking from the room without another word. You couldn’t stay a moment longer. Maybe once the “darkness” washed off of you, you could talk to Regulus logically. Maybe you could tell him that you missed him, that you still loved him…that you were thankful to see him alive…and most of all how bloody proud you were of him! Tonight, however, was not that night.

______

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saltyfishdream · 8 months ago

Text

Kazuha x Reader (Hogwarts AU)

Tags: reverse hurt/comfort, triggered by weather, coping with grief, gn!reader, implied past Kazuha/Friend

Words: 3.8k

The Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom was empty for only you and Professor Minci. You gulped nervously as she started to talk about your consistent “trolling” grade, which you still had to stifle a few laughs from hearing. You grew up in a Muggle family, and of course, the Internet.

She continued with how she tried to put you with other “high-achieving students” (Diluc and Kaeya) to get your grade up or making you sit on your own (after she found that you three together were the perfect stew for chatter) but they “probably weren't the best ways for you”.

“So that's why I'd like to introduce you to your peer tutor,” She finished. Peer tutor? You don't dare raise a brow at the idea even though you wanted to. You were sure that Diluc and Kaeya’s grades dropped that term because of all the chatting in class. Would you distract that peer tutor so much you'd forget about studying in the first place?

A knock on the door stopped your train of thoughts.

“Come in.”

You were first met with red eyes. Not as dark and piercing as the crimson in Diluc's, but a shade closer to the warm flame in the fireplace in the Gryffindor common room despite the fact that he was a Hufflepuff. His hair was white for only a few red strands, which was brushed to his right.

“Kadehara,” Professor Minci continued, “Will be your student tutor this term…”

She went on with a lot of details (like how good a student Kadehara was? Or he's a sixth year who didn’t drop the subject?) that you mostly missed, before noticing that it was almost time for dinner and ushered you two out of the room.

Kadehara said, “[name], are you fine with calling me Kazuha? I'm not really used to being called by my last name–”

You only blurted out the thing that was hanging on your mind from the moment you saw him. “You should put less stress on yourself, or even that red part of your hair will turn white at this rate if you insist on tutoring me.”

Kazuha's eyes widened for a second, probably from confusion.

“A-Ah no, I just bleached and dyed my hair! Kind of, actually. I wanted to dye it all red but the dyeing spell didn't work as well as I'd imagined,” he let out a few dry laughs, even though he didn’t look anything close to feeling awkward or already hating you.

You could feel the warmth creep up your face. Those rumors about the guy who found his hair whitened overnight was total bullcrap! Why would’ve you believed it? Are you fricking stupid? And had to make that tutor think you’re stupid in non-DA stuff? You ask yourself, almost embarrassing yourself in front of Kazuha again by nearly hitting yourself in the head with an imaginary rolled-up newspaper.

And so you both got back to your own tables without saying a word.

.ೃ࿐

“Isn't it time for you to go to that student tutor?” Kaeya asked. You groaned, looking up from the magical equivalent of a Rubik's cube in your hands, the only difference between both is that it keeps tricking you into the wrong steps by changing its colors and giving you riddles then roasts you for not solving the puzzle. It was a Saturday morning and the last thing that you had the mood to do was tutoring.

You pretend to have forgotten about the whole thing. “Tutor? What tutor?”

“The sixth-year who bleached his hair with a spell,” Diluc said, hands subconsciously turning his own cube.

“Ugh, thanks for the reminder.”

That conversation a few days ago had left a much sour taste in your mouth than you'd imagined that you were dreading seeing Kazuha again. Now every time you think of anything related to hair or peer tutoring (which Diluc and Kaeya are very unhelpfully mentioning in every conversation) you would cringe for the next hour about it– even Scara telling everyone that your face keeps turning into a tomato isn’t as embarrassing as that!

Don't know what to do next? Too bad. The words showed on your cube while it made obnoxious booing sounds. Note to self: get self a set of wizarding chess that is not from Dori.

You put the cube down for it to reshuffle in a flurry of colors and launch itself into Kaeya’s hands.

And for once the cube was right. You didn't really know what to do next, go to the library and face Kazuha or think of some random excuse that can convince Professor Minci to let you off the hook.

You left the common room. You knew that Kaeya and Diluc would literally drag you to the library if you stayed for a while longer, and they weren't sick of making hair-dyeing references yet while you were more than sick of the conversation with Kazuha.

Speak of the devil, he was standing next to the Fat Lady waiting for you.

“Oh, you're finally here.” He said with a smile as if the conversation didn't happen at all. “I thought you… forgot… or something…” Kazuha’s voice trailed off further as he went.

It was so awkward that you hoped that the floor would open up like the stairs did and swallow you whole (which it sadly didn't yet).

It took something like a million years and 20 tokens for you to generate a response, “It- I… lost my book. And notes, so, uh…”

You haven't even gotten to the part of calling off the tutoring session because of that when Kazuha replied, “That's fine, there are copies of textbooks in the library… it's really a blessing, isn't it?”

You could do nothing but nod and pray for whoever Merlin is to get you out of this cringefest.

.ೃ࿐

You both go to the library in total silence. There weren’t many students in the halls early on a Saturday morning. But you just can’t relax from the lingering threat of awkwardness. You and Kazuha each grabbed a seat at the left third row as a copy of the DA textbook automatically flew to your desk and opened itself on the first page.

“Ah, right. Would it be a bit inconvenient if you don’t have your own notes with you?” He asked while handing you a piece of paper. Yep, it’s the paper you’ve never seen ever since you’ve been to Hogwarts. You put it on your side of the table, your mind as blank as how it looked. “I never had any notes for DA,” you confess. Kazuha exhales deeply. “From now on,” He stated, “You have to start writing your notes.”

You groan.

“This subject is no fun…” Mumbling under your breath, you take your spare pencil out from your robe pocket, “I have no idea why Diluc and Kaeya could pass without even studying…” They were telling you to “blame everything on the pre-war Ministry” while you were still struggling with who did what. You were that day years old when you knew that Tom Riddle had never been the Minister of Magic.

Kazuha shrugged. “Most Muggle-borns like me have to study it the hard way. I mean– you’ve never known about the society and history and whatever shit we have here so you need, like, plenty of time to get used to it.” He puts his hair down and ties it back up, not giving a care about how he was swearing out loud. In the library.

You begrudgingly force your eyes back to the parchment and textbook. “How much do you mean by ‘plenty of time’? It’s been a term and I’m still trolling every single DA-related assignment.” Holding the urge to gnaw on the end of your pencil back, you finally write down the words “DA notes” on the paper.

“Can you tell me what the first chapter is about first?” He asks, gesturing to you to close the textbook. You stare at him with the same blank expression as if his head were the DA textbook. The air solidified around you. How on Earth would you know? You’ve never really touched the textbook, and he’s talking about the first chapter? Finally, you confidently tell him your answer which is definitely right. “It’s about how to defend yourself from the Dark Arts!”

Kazuha laughed– not dryly, but fortunately heartily. “Can’t say you’re totally wrong,” He said, a hint of amusement in his voice, “But I think it’s a sign for us to go through this chapter together.”

You start reading the chapter with him, the memories about the incident last week slowly fading to make way for the words in your textbook. The whatever “grim consequences of the Wizarding Wars” didn’t seem as hard as they seem to be, and even better– you finally remember the name Tom Riddle gave himself. (Hint: it’s not Dildo-lover Rat Mom or anything dildo-related) Kazuha seemed to be a way better teacher than Professor Minci– his voice was calming, but didn’t sound boring when he spoke and scribbled down concepts on his parchment.

“You see? It’s not as hard as you’ve imagined!”

Towards the end of the session (did time pass that quick?) you were at the end of the first chapter. There was still half an hour before lunch starts and you were too lazy to go back to the Common Room yet, so you decided to chat for a while while waiting.

“First year DA used to be more fun,” Kazuha sighed, “They had At least that’s what I heard from my seniors.” He puts his own quill and parchment away.

You say, “Define ‘fun’. If you’re talking about some lame Auror droning on about how he peaked in his teenage years and gave his wand to a dead man in the end, don’t count me in.” You weren’t even sure if Harry Potter did ever come back to Hogwarts to do some speech or whatever for the first years–but it’s most likely true if Kaeya told you. Very big thanks to the trust issues everyone you knew gave you after last week.

Books in the distance flew back onto their shelves, dust falling down onto your table.

“I mean- yeah, Auror Potter did come back to introduce DA for first years, but, that was like, a couple of years ago. And if I were you, I wouldn't say that he's lame.” Kazuha’s round, autumn-like eyes fell, staring at the dust.

The air was lead. And you both were suffocating in it.

A gust of wind blew the invisible lead, along with the dust away. “Anyways, they used to have lessons on the actual stuff besides all those theories. Combatting Boggarts? Check. Resisting Unforgivables? Check. Professors who make up ninety-nine percent of the Dark Arts themselves? Check.”

He kept on talking about how they postponed all that cool stuff to the third year. You would’ve looked forward to fighting off evil creatures but you were more stuck in Kazuha’s reaction to what you said. You had to blurt and now you don’t think he’s feeling totally good with that. Great.

You headed your own ways without a word.

.ೃ࿐

It has been two months since Kazuha started tutoring you, always sitting at the left third row in tutoring sessions. Your DA grades were getting better– definitely not the best, but having four assignments in a row without a “Troll” was progress. You started to control your big, fat mouth in front of him as well. You didn’t want to risk embarrassing yourself or having him look at the dust again.

Kazuha was a great guy as well– a cool sixth-year that you could rely on. When you met him out of tutoring, he would wave, or stop for a chat with you, slightly blushing when his friends hooted or whistled behind. His kitten– which perched on his shoulder like a Pikachu– even stretched itself to you when you met Kazuha, begging for a boop on the nose. He sometimes talked about his misadventures as a first year which always made you laugh, but you could sense the hint of something else in it, whether in his gaze or tone.

You were walking alone on the path next to the Great Lake on a sunny afternoon. Diluc and Kaeya were busy talking to Dehya about joining the Quidditch team next year and they told you not to wait for them.

The blonde with the red strand in his hair, sitting next to the lake while putting a maple leaf on the calm water surface. With a gentle swish of his wand the leaf sailed away, leaving two lines on the lake. “Didn’t you watch the Quidditch match?” You ask.

He said, “No, I didn’t.” Before putting another maple leaf onto the water.

“Come on! You totally missed out on how Gryffindor whooped the butts of all those Slytherins! It took, like, three whole hours before Heizou finally caught the Snitch!” You sat next to him, looking at the maple leaf floating on the water.

Kazuha fidgeted with his wand like how you would spin your pen in class. “I… used to love watching Quidditch, but…” He lost hold of its wand, luckily catching it before it fell into the water, “The person I usually watched playing left. So, yeah.”

“Left in terms of graduated?” You ask.

“You can say it like that.”

He stopped putting leaves into the lake.

You sit in silence with him for a while. Before you leave upon seeing Diluc and Kaeya in the distance.

.ೃ࿐

Another Saturday morning. It's raining so heavily that you thought that someone was pouring buckets of black water down from the roof. Breakfast was over already and you were running late for tutoring so you had to ignore the sensation in your gut.

You grab your textbook and notes and make a mad dash to the library, passing the practically waterfalls of rain along the corridors. You look at your usual seat. He wasn't there yet despite you being already– you look at the clock– ten minutes late.

Huh. That's weird. Maybe he decided to go to a new table today for the view? You look into the dark, barely-illuminated depths of the library. Nope. Not searching by yourself.

You go up to the front table and ask the librarian Pela if she had seen Kazuha.

Pela shakes her head, before picking back up the doujinshi she was reading.

Feeling like sticking out like a sore thumb, you go back to your usual table. Maybe he just overslept like you did and he was on his way here.

Another ten minutes pass. No sign of Kazuha. You open your textbook and start studying Chapter Nine. But no matter how many times you read it, the words just rebound from your brain and back into the textbook.

You close it a bit too loudly in frustration. Where was he?

“Mmnh?” Kazuha appears in the corridor next to your table, black circles under his puffy eyes. He forces a smile and says, “Sorry for being late, I pulled an all-nighter last night and got to bed at five AM. I got myself some coffee, so… don’t worry too much about me.”

He sets his stuff down on the table and immediately starts explaining the chapter.

“… So Aurors had to undergo strict tests…” He kept speaking, eyes on the textbook. His voice was raspy– not Scara’s oh-im-so-dark-and-mysterious type, but rather the type you get when you catch a cold or have stayed up the whole night crying.

Maybe he caught a cold after pulling an all-nighter. Just maybe.

His words fuse with the pattering of the rain on the windows outside. You can’t comprehend anything he was saying while your mind is running a hundred miles per hour wondering what’s wrong with Kazuha even though you know that it’s technically not your business. You don’t even bother asking yourself to focus– your head was just too occupied with these thoughts.

He didn’t notice the fact you weren’t listening at all. “Nowadays, Aurors still have to- to… fight against… the remaining power of Tom Riddle’s followers…” He said, trailing off at the end of the sentence. You look at him. Then at the textbook, where a whole chart of different events with the corresponding years with the title “Major Breakthroughs in Defending Post-War Magical Britain from Death Eaters” occupied two whole pages.

Kazuha was covering his eyes with both his hands, his elbows resting on the table. You can hear his muffled sniffling.

Well, that was definitely more than a cold.

“Kazuha? Uh- you ok?” You felt stupid asking this question. He is visibly not OK, cold or not. The ball of panic erupted in your head. Is this supposed to be normal? Think, [name], you have to think… Why is he like this? What can I do?

Your pencil feels slippery, and if you keep the tip pressed on your notebook you’d be drawing a seismograph.

You had never seen him like this. Like, of course, you guys just met two months ago and you expect him to be vulnerable in front of you? But you always saw him as the “cool senior student”.

A flash of lightning.

You ask, “What happened?” as if your head has been struck by a Stupefy. It came out as a whisper.

Kazuha rested his head on the table, not looking at you.

The roaring of thunder broke in the library, not helping with anything at all.

“It- it’s just the weather…” He turned his back against you, conjuring a piece of tissue paper.

You put your pencil down. “Yeah, awful weather, isn’t it?” You say without even thinking, your voice sounding dead.

Lightning struck again, momentarily painting the room in white.

Kazuha closes the textbook. “I’ve always hated rainstorms,” he says, his voice still breaking, “They… they took him away. In the middle of a rainstorm.”

Your train of thought gets cut short by the thunderclap. “I’m… sorry for that.”

“No, y-you don’t have to. It’s not your fault.” The feeble candlelight flickers, illuminating his face. Fresh tears were streaming down his reddened cheeks, his red eyes looking like the Great Lake under the sunset. His light hair was slightly disheveled, which he brushed towards one side. “It’s just that… I never thought that they would be that cruel.”

The pattering sound outside seemed louder. “Tomo… I should’ve… Why didn’t I…” Kazuha muttered under his breath.

“Mind if we, uh, just,” You struggle to find the right words to say, “Talk about it?”

Kazuha nods.

“Tomo… he was a nice friend. A Ravenclaw. He was a fourth-year student when I started studying here…”

The candles flickered a few more times, teetering at the verge of totally going out before reilluminating itself.

“I got bullied for being a Muggleborn and having a strange accent, he was the only other Japanese guy here and he stood up for me so… we became friends…” He paused.

“I should’ve stopped him from being an Auror if I knew this would happen to him… He could’ve been a good Quidditch player or potionmaker or… I was just happy for him when he told me he passed all the tests last summer but just on his very first mission…”

His voice broke again. You scooted over to him. “He sent me a letter that morning about how he looked forward to it and before I could reply, that evening it rained until the next morning and what I saw on the news was that…”

You patted his back. The wind howled, as if it were weeping as well. Leaves flew by the window, which was barely holding on to the frame. You haven’t even experienced such a storm back where you lived.

“The Death Eaters killed him but didn’t take his wand. His partner told me he could’ve survived if they didn’t fire a second spell at him…”

“They really are… heartless. More than I'd imagined. It must’ve been awful knowing that,” you say.

Kazuha continued, “It was. The first spell landed on his keychain instead… Why were they so bent on… doing this? He fought until the last moment… The keychain… we bought a matching pair at a cheap souvenir store together at Hogsmeade… it cracked when the spell hit…”

“I kept it when they sent it to me. And… his kitten… I guess it helped me keep my mind off stuff for a while.”

The raindrops sounded lighter.

“… he loved cats, but his parents were allergic so he got it after graduation when he got to rent a house with his colleagues and updated me about his life and training along with a photo of his kitten every single day… And he was a good Quidditch player but quit in his sixth year. If he were a Quidditch player maybe he would’ve still been here but not…”

The sky seemed lighter as the heavy rain faded. Kazuha fell silent. “Was he happy? About being an Auror?” You asked.

He nodded. “It… it was his lifelong dream. I had thought of pulling that ‘stealing a Time-turner’ trick in those rumors… but I guess he wouldn't listen if I went back and asked him not to become an Auror. It would’ve been selfish of me to do that but there’s just that part of me that wanted to save him…”

You think aloud, “He wouldn't have regretted anything even in his last moments.”

“Huh?” Kazuha asked.

You’ve done it again. Why can’t you take control of what you say? You stare at him, trying not to let him know that your mind is rolling down the spiral staircase for the rest of the summer.

“You are right. It was always his dream to be an Auror. And he achieved it,” He said, looking back at you.

A few drops of rain clung to the window frame, occasionally dripping down.

“It was just… never your fault, ok? Fudge those Death Eaters, I bet they get haunted by Tomo’s ghost every night that they’ve gone insane in Alakazam,” You tell him, not minding that you’re (almost) swearing out loud in the library.

Kazuha coughed out a few laughs as he wiped off his tears. “It’s Azkaban! Why must you make a Pokemon reference here?”

You put up your most innocuous smile.

The bell rings for lunch.

“Anyways, uh,” Kazuha stutters while tidying up his stuff, “Thanks but... Sorry for… just… venting to you like that…” He blushes, red creeping up from his neck to his face.

You give him a playful slap in the back. “No biggie– as long as you’re feeling fine now.”

You walk out of the library. The thick layer of clouds have disappeared, leaving only a few droplets on the trees and the birds singing.

You part ways at the Great Hall as usual.

#genshin impact #genshin imagines #genshin x reader #genshin kazuha #kadehara kazuha #tomokazu #kazuha x reader #kazuha x you #hurt/comfort #genshin

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