#little moon jumper blanket

[pasukiyo]

LEFT UNSPOKEN

remus lupin x f!reader word count; 3,286 warnings; very word vomit-y, very much a self-insert lol, very small mentions of sex summary; she wakes in the middle of the night and knows only two things are for certain: remus is not sleeping, and something is wrong.

 There is an indentation in the shape of Remus Lupin in the space on the bed beside her. 

 She is not sure what actually wakes her, but she lifts her head from her pillow and knows one thing is for certain: Remus is not sleeping, and something is wrong. 

 She blinks away the sleep from her eyes to the best of her ability and pushes herself into an upright position. She leans over to the bedside table to click on the lamp, narrowing her eyes for a better read of the clock. It was three in the morning and the moon spilled its ghostly hues into the bedroom through the thin curtains of the window, slowly sinking further down past the horizon. 

 She yawns and rolls her neck, tossing the comforter away from her legs. When her feet lower to find the carpet, they meet denim instead and she kicks Remus' jeans away as she stands, pulling his burgundy jumper over her head while she makes her way towards the door. 

 There is a slight chill to the air when she peels open the bedroom door and her arms cross over her chest for warmth as she pads down the hallway leading into the living room and kitchen. It’s here where she finds Remus, sitting at the window, knees to his chest. He wears nothing but his boxers and she thinks that he must be cold, so she ambles towards the couch to grab a quilt. 

 Remus turns his head as she enters the living room, wearing his jumper and bringing a quilt over to drape over his legs. He glances up at her sheepishly, pressing his lips together in a tight smile. 

 “Did I wake you?” He asks, his voice still rough and gravelly with sleep. She inhales as she settles herself onto the window seat across from him, hugging her legs to her chest and stretching his jumper out to cover her knees. She shakes her head, “since it seems like you’ve been out here for quite some time, no. I just woke up.”

 Still, Remus apologizes softly, watching as she eyes him up and down, tilting her head to rest it against the cool glass. His skin erupts in goosebumps and he is unsure whether it is from the air or from the intensity of her gaze but either way, he readjusts the blanket on his legs, looking anywhere but at her. 

 “Are you hurting again?” She asks after a moment and Remus closes his eyes— he hates how well she knows him. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat again and swallows, nodding. He looks down to the quilt draped over his legs, “I’m quite surprised my tossing and turning didn’t wake you. I’ve been restless all night.”

 She shrugs, “I suppose I’ve gotten used to it.”

 A humorless laugh leaves Remus’s nose and she blinks, her gaze softening. “Have you taken your potion?” She questions and he tries to breathe through the irritation that tinges him at the question— of course he’s taken his potion, he does it every month but still, he hurts. He knows deep down that it is only a simple question and that she means well and the last thing he wants is to yell at her but this condition, this curse within him makes him want to scream, to kick and yell and hurt. 

 “Yes,” he answers a little too quickly, his tone harsh and sharp. He curses at himself beneath his breath and shakes his head, forcing his gaze back towards the window. Nevertheless, she does not flinch, doesn’t so much as blink. She’s known him far too long and been through too much with him to let something as small as this affect her. 

 “Where do you ache?” She asks and he snaps his head back towards her, his brows knit. “What?” He says as if he didn’t hear her and she repeats her question, to which Remus only blinks at her in bewilderment. Again, he knows she means well but really, how much does she think she can help?

 He inhales and closes his eyes, willing himself to relax. With great effort, he exhales, shrugging. “My shoulders, I suppose,” he replies. “It feels like they’re going to cave in on me.” 

 Without hesitation, she lifts herself from her seat and moves to stand behind him, tapping his back with her palm. “Scoot,” she says simply and Remus turns, with great effort, to peer at her from over his shoulder. Before he can even protest, her gaze hardens and he has no choice but to comply, scooting himself further up the window seat until she can fit herself comfortably behind him. 

 An owl hoots from somewhere outside the window and the moon slowly begins to sink below the tops of the surrounding buildings.  She uses the pad of her thumb to feel around his right shoulder blade and Remus winces. 

 “Where does it hurt?” She asks.

 He hisses between his teeth, “everywhere,” he practically growls.

 His muscles scream and his mind begins to swirl like a cyclone in a supercell and it takes everything within him to not snarl through his teeth and yell every obscenity in his vocabulary at her. She begins to knead through the clump of knots in his shoulder, her fingers not too gentle, yet not too rough either. Remus’s eyes flutter closed and he tries to shut his brain off, tries to just feel. 

 He can feel her fingers against the bare skin of his back, can feel her knee as it presses against his lower end, her hair as it brushes against his shoulder. He can smell her, the scented shampoo that’s now faint, giving way to the smell of sex and his skin burns with the memory of just mere hours before. 

 He begins to ease into her touch, his head even lolling back as his mind orbits thoughts of solely her. He can still taste her on his lips, his mouth buzzing with the phantom of her kiss. He drops his head and turns and she leans in closer, her breath rolling like early morning dew onto his skin. 

 “Does it feel good?” She asks and he hums, nodding. She breathes a laugh, “if I’d known you were in pain, I wouldn’t have provoked you earlier.” 

 His breath comes out as more of a laugh and he blinks up at her and their eyes meet and Merlin, it’s like all else ceases to exist when he sees her. He searches through her irises, the dilated pupils in the middle of them and finds that he’s falling more in love with her with every second that ticks past, even in the state he’s in. His heart aches in his chest and for a moment, his body forgets that it is in pain and his lips part, drawing nearer to hers. 

 She simply waits, continuing to knead the knots in his shoulders. His breath shudders and he wishes he had the words to convey to her how he feels in this moment but he’s too tired so instead he presses his lips to hers. They melt into one another and there’s suddenly nothing more important than her and her lips, her skin against his. 

 There’s a certain fervor that Remus kisses her with how that she’s never felt before and somewhere in the back of her mind, she knows that there’s more that’s been left unspoken. She kisses him back with the same zeal until she feels her lips begin to grow numb and she pulls away, chasing air back into her lungs. 

 Remus’s forehead falls against hers and it’s not until she presses her head harder against his that he meets her gaze. “Talk to me,” she whispers and he tilts his head. She narrows her eyes, “don’t play coy with me, Remus Lupin. I know when there’s something preoccupying that pretty head of yours.”

 He turns and almost curses beneath his breath again— she knows him too well. 

 He turns back to face the window, the street below that is illuminated solely by the orange street lamps, the dark sky and the twinkling lights that litter it. He eases himself into the pads of her thumbs as they rub circles against his shoulder blades locking his fingers over his opposite wrist.

 “I just…” he trails off, unsure where to begin. “…do you ever wish you could just… I don’t know… ask the universe questions?”

 She tilts her head. “What do you mean?” She asks, and he sighs, shaking his head. 

 “I don’t know… it’s just…” he’s beginning to grow frustrated with himself again but almost as if she can sense it, she leans in to press her lips against the nape of his neck and a slither rolls down his spine and all is well again. “…sometimes I just feel like I don’t know what I’m doing or what I should be doing with my life. I wish I could just, you know, ask the universe what exactly it wants from me.”

 She drops her chin to rest on his shoulder as she continues to rub through the aches there, and she grows silent. For a moment, Remus wonders if it was a mistake to open up at all. 

 Then, “all the time.”

 Remus sighs and although this feeling— one of being lost, like he’s living in slow motion while the world keeps spinning around him— is horrible, he is, in a way, relieved that he is not alone. He leans back into her and she pulls her hands away from his shoulders to instead wrap them around his neck, allowing him to be drawn further into her. 

 Her lips press against the crown of his head and he closes his eyes, simply ravishing the feeling of being wrapped in the warm arms of his lover. There’s nothing better than being completely surrounded by her and it almost makes him forget about his feelings, his lycanthropy, even. 

 “Sometimes I feel like everyone around me is moving so fast-paced, like they’ve gotten everything figured out and I’m just… stuck,” she admits in a murmur against his head. His eyes flutter open and he breathes, focusing on the steady beat of her heart against his back.

 He pauses to ponder her words for a moment, letting them swirl around his head before they finally begin to sink in. He turns ever so slightly, just enough to see her where she rests her chin on his shoulder. She blinks at him and he wonders how this girl, this beautiful, perfect, impossible girl could possibly be his, nor can he comprehend now she could possibly feel stuck. He thinks to himself whether he was failing her, if somehow, in his own state of self-destruction, he was tearing her down too. 

 It sends his mind down a spiral and his face darkens, which she notices his doubt as soon as it crosses his face like shadows over the moon. She nudges the underside of his jaw with the bridge of her nose, pressing her lips to his collarbone. 

 “Talk to me,” she urges him again in a soft murmur against his skin and Remus shivers, reaching to clasp a hand around one of her wrists as if to anchor her to him, like he’s scared that she’s letting go. She lets him, and she watches his other hand as it searches for something to do while he musters the courage to speak. She outstretches her hand and gestures for him to take it, which he does, albeit dubiously. 

 “I sometimes wonder if I’m even any good for you,” he admits quietly after a prolonged moment of silence. She blinks and he feels her eyelashes graze against his flesh and he almost regrets saying the words as soon as they come out of his mouth. He sighs and moves to drop her hand but she doesn’t let him, tightening her grip and lifting her chin from his shoulder. “What is that supposed to mean?” She asks and he almost flinches at her sudden clipped tone. 

 “I…” A breath leaves his lips frustratingly and he shakes his head. “…I don’t want you to feel stuck with me. I don’t want you to let me and my problems drag you down. I couldn’t live with myself if I were to burden you.”

 There is another silence that falls like snow over them and Remus’s spine begins to stiffen with frost as chills slither down it. The air has an icy bite to it now and he knows that he must’ve said the wrong thing because now she’s pulling away from him altogether and now he’s in his head thinking, ‘now you’ve done it, Lupin. You’ve reminded her of how you’re weighing her down and now you’ve lost the only good thing you had left in your life.’

 His gaze drops to his lap and he almost doesn’t realize she’s circling around to his front until he feels her middle and index finger against his chin, tilting his head up until their eyes could meet once again. Her brows are knit and the corners of her lips are cast downwards as if she’s angry but there’s a softness, a tenderness in her eyes that seems to make him feel small. It’s one he’s never really seen in her before, but he knows that what he said struck her like a blow to the chest. 

 Remus’s bottom lip trembles as it parts away from his top and he vows to himself that he will never, ever do anything to make her look at him like that ever again. He never wants to hurt her badly enough to see the glossy barrier form in her eyes, her tight-pressed lips that quiver ever so slightly like he sees now. All he can do is simply hold his breath and wait for her to speak again. 

 She swallows, and then she does. “Remus Lupin, you are such a fool!” 

 It comes out as more of an exclamation and she drops his chin, shaking her head and crossing her arms over her chest. He watches as she turns to stare out the window, rolling her bottom lip between her teeth. 

 “Do you not see how in love with you I am?” She asks with a scoff, her narrowing eyes finding his again. He blinks, taken aback by her outburst. “Merlin, I am so in love with you and I care so deeply for you that I cannot believe you would misinterpret it as you being a burden on me!” 

 He blinks again as she sinks onto the window seat before him, sinking her teeth into the plush of her bottom lip, eyeing him. His heart beats so fast with her abrupt proclamation and it takes everything within him not to shut her up with his lips on hers, he has to force himself to breathe to suppress the urge. Remus never once felt loved in the way he now knows she loves him, and he’s quite unsure what to do with himself. All he can do is sit and stare speechlessly at the woman in front of him. 

 “You’re the only thing I have that I’m scared to lose,” she admits, quietly this time. Remus’s gaze softens and although he wishes to move closer, he’s frozen to his spot so he simply waits for her to continue. “I said I feel stuck because it feels like nearly everyone else around me has found their purpose in their life and I’m still trying to figure out where I fit in this world,” she says and she looks off to the kitchen table across the room, an old typewriter with a blank sheet of paper standing erect on the top. 

 “I sit and stare at blank pages on my typewriter everyday, waiting for my will to write to come back to me,” she continues. “And somewhere deep down, I want to believe that writing is what I’m meant to do, that writing is my purpose in life, but then words don’t come and then I get into my own head and I begin to doubt.”

 Remus’s heart begins to feel heavy as it soaks in her words, absorbing through his skin like a sponge. He’s never seen her so vulnerable before and it hurts knowing she’s kept all of this bottled for so long. The best he can do now is listen, to allow her to take this weight off of her chest and throw it onto him, even if only temporarily. 

 “All I do is doubt myself and it makes me feel so lost,” she says, her voice slowly beginning to lower and he knows that she is nearing her end. He scoots himself closer to her, reaching for her hand. She blinks down at their laced fingers, “I just feel like I’m falling behind. Sometimes I just wish things would slow down so I could have time to catch up and not doubt.” 

 She uses her free hand to press the pads of her fingers into one of her closed eyelids, sighing as she throws it back down to her lap. “But the only thing I never doubt is you. Never once do I doubt loving you, or caring for you. I could never see you as a burden, Remus.”

 The pad of Remus’s thumb soothes over the back of her hand and she sighs again, her shoulders heaving. He lets the quilt over his legs drop to the floor and with the hand he has in hers, he draws her closer, guiding her in turning around so that this time, she could fall back against him. His arms wrap around her shoulders and he falls back against the wall so they could sit comfortably, melting into one another. 

 “Sorry,” she says after a moment and he shakes his head. 

 “Don’t be,” he murmurs against her hair. “We should’ve been talking like this a long time ago.”

 She hums and they both turn to look at the night outside the window. He wishes there were more words, better words he could offer her now but he’s unsure what he could say that he hasn’t already tried telling himself. So instead, he tells her what he knows is for certain. 

 “I should’ve said this to you more often before but,” he starts, pressing a kiss to her temple. “I care for you too,” he says and he breathes a laugh. “I’m so completely and desperately in love with you that not even my lycanthropy can make me think it’s untrue.”

 She sniffs and it comes out as a laugh and she squeezes Remus’s arm as it tightens around her. There’s not much more either can say but holding each other, even in the silence, is enough. It’s just enough to be near each other, to feel each other, and soon, both of their eyelids begin growing heavy. There’s words they left unspoken for now, but still, a silent agreement seems to hang between them and Remus feels more at ease as he finally allows himself to drift away in the arms of his slumber. 

 The girl in his arms feels lighter than she had just moments before, like an invisible weight had been lifted from her shoulders. Even through her tired and blurring vision, she can make out the old typewriter from her periphery. As she, too, succumbs to her sleep, she begins to dream about a story, one that’s borne by the feeling of the boy holding her’s heartbeat against her back, by his soft breathing as he drifts to sleep, by his arms as they envelope her in his warmth. 

a/n; so sorry for having been inactive for so long! if you couldn't already tell from this mess of a fic, i've really been struggling trying to write. i've started at least five drafts each of different fics over the past few months but none of them were able to get very far before i doubted myself and grew too frustrated to continue. i'm very surprised i was even able to finish this one lol it's really not my best work, but it was, in a way, an outlet for me to vent and get some of this weight off my chest. i hope you are still able to enjoy this one!

(ps, i tried a new writing style here, i hope i didn't butcher it too much lol)

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Beneath the Moonlight - Remus Lupin

₊‧⁺˖⋆ Masterlist ⋆˖⁺‧₊

Summary: In the days leading up to a full moon, Remus Lupin receives an anonymous gift basket filled with potions, chocolates, and a carefully-brewed Wolfsbane Potion.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

Y/N considered herself a rather observant student, especially when it came to the Marauders. It was hard not to notice them, really. They were practically a four-person parade through the halls of Hogwarts—pranks, laughter, and charm trailing behind them like a comet's tail. James Potter with his messy hair and endless attempts to impress Lily Evans, Sirius Black with his dazzling grin and effortless cool, Peter Pettigrew following close, always eager to please. But one Marauder stood out to her more than the rest. Remus Lupin.

There was something about him that had Y/N hooked from the beginning. Perhaps it was his quiet brilliance or the way he seemed to carry a world of mysteries in those warm, honey-colored eyes. Or maybe, it was the way new scars seemed to appear on his face and hands every so often, faint but unmistakable. They fascinated her, those scars, and as her gaze lingered on him in class or at meals, she found herself trying to figure him out.

And, admittedly, somewhere along the way, Y/N developed a bit of a crush on him. But who wouldn’t? He was brilliant, always top of the class without trying too hard, and—and yes, he was gorgeous. Handsome in that annoyingly effortless way. Soft, tousled hair that practically begged to be touched, sharp cheekbones, and—Merlin, those knit jumpers that always made him look so adorable. How was that fair? It was like he’d been sculpted by some benevolent god of tall, bookish, sweater-loving dream boys.

But Y/N’s interest in him was more than just attraction. There was something… otherworldly about him. She’d started to notice patterns—how he would seem worn and pale every few weeks, how he would disappear entirely from school grounds for a day or two, only to return looking exhausted and, if possible, even more scarred than before.

A month ago, after endless speculation and careful observation, Y/N had arrived at a conclusion: Remus Lupin was probably a werewolf. She wasn’t completely certain; it was more of an educated guess. But what could she do with this theory? It wasn’t like she could walk up to him and blurt out, “Hey, Remus! You don’t know me, but I’ve been watching you for months, and I just wanted to ask, are you, by any chance, a werewolf?”

The thought alone made her cringe. Y/N sighed, tapping her quill against her parchment. Remus Lupin might be full of mysteries and maybe—just maybe—she’d get the courage to actually talk to him someday.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

The full moon was only a few days away, and Y/N could already see the toll it was taking on Remus. He was limping slightly, a stiffness in his stride that made her heart ache, and the dark circles under his eyes were more prominent than ever. He looked exhausted, like he hadn’t been sleeping in days, and though she knew he had his friends—the Marauders, always fiercely loyal—she couldn’t help but feel he needed more comfort than they could provide. She wanted to do something for him, something small but meaningful.

The idea hit her while she was rummaging through her bag in the library: an anonymous get-well-soon basket. She could leave it outside his dorm, a collection of little comforts to ease the days leading up to his transformation. She’d make sure it was subtle, not too personal, just enough to lift his spirits without drawing attention.

Excitement and nerves mixed in her stomach as she mentally listed what she’d need. A couple potions to help with sleep, pain, and anxiety, some of Honeydukes' finest chocolate, a soft blanket to keep him warm, and a few baked goods from the kitchen elves. She might even add a small note with a simple message—“Hope these bring you a bit of comfort during the full moon. Take care of yourself.”

Over the next couple of days, Y/N carefully gathered everything. She bought him a midnight-blue wool blanket that felt like a hug in fabric form and a variety of different chocolates. She used her advanced potion skills to make Murtlap Essence, a Calming Draught, and a Healing Potion.

But the most important addition was a small bottle of Wolfsbane Potion. She’d somehow managed to get her hands on the recipe, even though it wasn’t officially taught at Hogwarts—and she’d acquired a secret stash of the rare ingredients needed to brew it, though she'd never admit where from. It had taken several nights of brewing in the abandoned classroom she’d found, but she’d done it.

The full moon was only two days away when she finished assembling the basket, carefully placing the note on top before leaving it right outside the boys' dormitory. With a final glance over her handiwork, she quickly walked back to her dorm, satisfied with her work.

As she returned to her room, a little thrill of satisfaction bubbled within her. Maybe, just maybe, her small gesture would help Remus feel a little less alone, a little less burdened by the full moon’s approach. And that thought alone was enough to fill her with quiet joy.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

Just a few floors below, the Marauders were still lounging in the Gryffindor common room, sprawled across chairs and couches as the fire crackled low. They’d spent hours discussing pranks, arguing about the latest Quidditch match, and bickering about everything from Potions homework to the best way to dodge Filch. When the last embers started to die, they finally decided it was time to call it a night.

As they made their way up the stairs, it was James who first spotted the basket. He froze mid-step, eyebrows raised as he pointed it out. "Er, lads... anyone know what this is?"

The other boys crowded around, peering down at the unexpected sight.

“No clue,” Peter murmured, squinting at the note resting on top.

Sirius, with his usual curiosity, leaned down and plucked up the note, inspecting it with a grin before his eyes gleamed mischievously. “Ooooooh, Remus, it’s for you!” he cooed, reading the note aloud for the group: ‘Hope these bring you a bit of comfort during the full moon. Take care of yourself.’

The boys’ faces all fell at once. Whoever had left this knew. Someone had figured it out. Their carefully crafted excuses, the timing of their sneaking around, all the little tricks they’d come up with—they thought it was foolproof. But apparently, someone had been watching more closely than they’d realized.

Without another word, they grabbed the basket, exchanging uneasy glances as they rushed into the dormitory, shutting the door firmly behind them. They gathered around Remus’s bed, where James set the basket down, and just stared at it.

“Well? Open it already!” James urged, his voice a mix of curiosity, excitement, and a tinge of concern.

Remus took a steadying breath. His friends were watching him closely as he slowly lifted the wrapping, half-expecting some kind of prank to burst out at him. But instead, he found an assortment of thoughtful items neatly arranged within the basket. A stack of Honeydukes chocolates, carefully tied together with string. A blanket, dark blue and soft, lay folded at the side. Several small bottles—potions, each labeled with precision, sat in the center, cushioned by tissue paper.

They all scanned the contents in awe and curiosity, but Sirius was the first to notice something unusual. He gasped, eyes widening as he pointed to one particular bottle.

“Holy shit, is that—”

“Wolfsbane,” Remus finished quietly, staring at the vial with a mixture of shock and disbelief.

They all fell silent, taking in the implications of that single bottle. Wolfsbane Potion was incredibly complex, nearly impossible for a student to brew, and yet here it was—crafted, sealed, and ready for him. Someone had not only figured out his secret but had gone to lengths far beyond casual concern. The potion’s presence in the basket hinted at more than just kindness; it was a deeply personal gesture, an unspoken understanding that spoke volumes.

Remus swallowed hard, his fingers brushing the cool glass of the bottle. "Did the card say who it was from?" he asked, looking over at Sirius, who shrugged and handed him the note again.

Remus read the short message over and over, searching for any hidden clues, some hint that might give away the sender. But the note was short, simple, and entirely anonymous. He turned it over, checked for invisible ink, even held it up to the light, but there was nothing.

“Not a single hint?” James murmured, peering over his shoulder, a frown deepening across his face. “Nothing?”

The group exchanged baffled glances. They examined the basket once more, handling each item carefully to make sure nothing seemed dangerous. The potions were labeled clearly and accurately, the chocolate smelled rich and sweet, and the blanket was incredibly soft—perfect for a night when he’d be feeling cold and drained. Every item seemed genuine, carefully chosen, with not a hint of a prank or hex.

As they finished examining the basket, they slowly started getting ready for bed. Remus sat quietly on his bed, his mind racing as he took in the kindness of it all. He tucked the potions into his bedside drawer, hiding the chocolate where he knew Sirius wouldn’t be able to steal it, and spread the blanket over his bed. It was soft, warmer than his own, and the weight of it settled over him like a quiet comfort he hadn’t realized he needed.

Sliding under the blanket, Remus felt a warmth blooming in his chest. Someone out there knew his secret, but instead of using it against him, they’d tried to make things a little easier. And he knew, without question, that he had to figure out who it was.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

The full moon had passed in a calm that Remus had never experienced before. He woke that morning still feeling sore, but the aches were manageable. Normally, the transformations left him scarred and hollow, as if all the energy and warmth had been drained from him, leaving only exhaustion in its wake. But this time, thanks to the Wolfsbane Potion and the potions from the basket, he felt… human. Less broken.

After seeing the other Marauders off to class, Remus leaned back into his bed, feeling the softness of the new blanket wrap around him like a gentle hug. He’d spent the morning drinking one of the calming potions, using the healing salve for his aches, and nibbling on a bit of chocolate to ease his nerves. And though he was grateful, he couldn’t shake the strange blend of curiosity and unease that swirled in his mind. Who knew? Who cared this much? The secrecy felt like a burden, yet he couldn’t help but feel a small glow of warmth every time he glanced at the basket.

Meanwhile, James, Sirius, and Peter were trying to answer that very question in their own way. During Potions, they’d had an idea. Whoever had brewed Wolfsbane Potion had to be incredibly skilled, so finding out who had the best marks in Potions could narrow things down. The second Slughorn dismissed them, they pounced.

Sirius leaned casually on Slughorn’s desk, grinning with exaggerated innocence. “Professor,” he began, “say I wanted to improve my Potions skills. Just hypothetically.”

Slughorn’s eyebrows lifted, clearly intrigued by Sirius’s unusual interest. “Oh? Well, it’s about time, Mr. Black. I’d say your marks could certainly use a bit of boosting.”

“Oh, I know, I know!” Sirius waved his hands, laughing a bit. “That’s exactly why I was thinking maybe a bit of tutoring could help. So… who would you say is the top student in your class?”

James sidled up next to him, nodding earnestly. “Yeah, Professor. Who’s the best at brewing?”

Slughorn looked delighted, his chest puffing with pride at the idea of his Gryffindor students taking a sudden interest in his class. He lowered his voice as though he were sharing a prized secret. “Ah, if you’re looking for someone with real talent, you’d want to speak with Y/N Y/L/N. A truly gifted student! Absolutely meticulous with her brewing, and a Gryffindor as well! You boys ought to know her.”

Sirius and James exchanged baffled glances. “Y/N Y/L/N?” James muttered, frowning in thought.

Peter piped up, looking a little surprised. “Oh, I remember her. We did a project together in second year. She’s very sweet. I suppose she’s easy to miss, always keeping to herself.”

“Right…” Sirius trailed off, scratching his chin. “Doesn’t sound like the type to be sneaking around in the dead of night to drop off mysterious gift baskets, does she?”

“People can surprise you,” Peter shrugged. “I bet she’s got her reasons.”

After classes were over, the three Marauders nearly sprinted back to the dormitory. They’d waited all day to tell Remus their findings, and as soon as they saw him, they launched right into it.

“So,” Sirius said, flopping dramatically onto Remus’s bed, “we might know who left the basket.”

Remus looked up, eyebrows raised, though he tried to appear casual. “Really?”

James nodded, practically bouncing with excitement. “Y/N Y/L/N. Slughorn says she’s his top student in Potions. And she’s a Gryffindor, so she’d know where to find us.”

The name caught Remus off guard. “Y/N Y/L/N?” He knew exactly who she was—quiet, always hanging at the edges of things, never drawing attention to herself. He remembered her from their earlier years, especially a few years back when she and Peter had done that project together. She’d been kind and incredibly smart, but she always seemed to fade into the background.

Sirius shot him a curious look. “Wait—do you actually know her?”

Remus hesitated, carefully picking his words. “I mean… I remember her. We’ve been in classes together since first year.”

But what he didn’t say was that he’d once felt drawn to her quiet kindness. She wasn’t like other students; there was a thoughtfulness to her, a gentle intelligence that had always intrigued him. He remembered her now, the shy girl who had somehow made him feel seen, and the idea that she might have left the basket stirred something inside him—a mix of hope and nerves.

Sirius smirked, leaning in conspiratorially. “Oh, you remember her, do you?”

Remus rolled his eyes, trying to hide his blush. “Look, it’s probably not her. There’s no way she’d still remember… I mean, we barely ever talked.”

James raised his eyebrows. “Barely ever talked? That doesn’t mean she wouldn’t care. Besides,” he added with a grin, “you clearly want it to be her.”

Remus glanced away, not trusting himself to deny it. Because if it really was Y/N… she’d have gone to extraordinary lengths just to help him. It would mean she knew his secret and, rather than fearing him, had quietly found a way to ease his burden. And perhaps the most surprising part? He found himself hoping it was her.

Finally, he cleared his throat. “Alright. I’ll talk to her. See if there’s anything to this theory of yours.”

The next morning, with a hint of apprehension and excitement, Remus set out to find her. He decided to look in the library first, where he thought she might be studying between classes. But as he crossed the common room, he spotted her in the far corner, curled up in a chair with a thick book on her lap.

He took a steadying breath and made his way over to her. She looked up, clearly surprised to see him, her eyes widening as he gave a small, nervous smile.

“Hi, Y/N,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady. “Do you mind if I join you?”

She blinked, a little flustered, but nodded, gesturing to the seat across from her. “Um, of course, Remus.”

They sat in a slightly awkward silence for a moment, and Remus could feel his heart beating hard in his chest. He cleared his throat, feeling the weight of her attention on him.

“So… I, uh, wanted to thank you,” he started, not sure how to bring it up. “For… everything.”

She stiffened slightly, her cheeks flushing, but kept her gaze steady. “I’m not sure what you mean,” she replied quietly.

He watched her, seeing the faintest hint of a smile playing at her lips, and knew then, without a doubt, that she was the one. “The gift basket. The potions. The blanket.” He lowered his voice. “The Wolfsbane. It helped me… more than I can say.”

Her face softened, and she nodded, understanding in her eyes. “I’m… really glad to hear that. I just wanted you to have what you needed. It’s not easy going through all that on your own.”

Remus felt his heart swell. Here she was, fully aware of the truth and yet sitting here, calm and kind, accepting him exactly as he was.

He met her gaze, feeling a sense of calm he hadn’t felt in ages. “Thank you, Y/N. I don’t know what I did to deserve that kind of kindness from you, but… it means a lot.”

They sat there in a comfortable silence, the unspoken words passing between them, understanding filling the space. He knew he’d found a friend in her—someone who saw through the mask he wore and had chosen to help, not out of pity, but because she understood what it meant to care quietly, deeply, and without expectation.

And perhaps, he thought with a hint of warmth, this was only the beginning of something much deeper.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

A/N ~ this is kinda rushed sorry, school is killing me :P

[writtenbymoonflower]

hey I just wanted to say I love your work!!!! I keep binge reading your marauders posts especially!!! You are such a good writer. If it’s ok, can I send a request for the managers with an autistic reader? Maybe where they feel insecure bc of overthinking bc they act different to everyone else? I hope you have a good day xxxxxx

thanks so much for reading hunny! i hope this is okay. i'm not autistic myself so this may not be the most accurate, please let me know! autistic gn!reader x poly!marauders. modern!au

cw: insecurity, overthinking, mentions of alcohol

1k words

You couldn’t stop replaying all the interactions you had that day over and over in your head. You were scrutinizing every word you had said, every way you had gestured. You didn’t know if everyone loved, hated, or pitied you. It was possible that everything was fine, but it was equally as likely that everyone who you talked to today were still thinking about your conversations and were still annoyed with you. It was an indescribable feeling, it just made you want to curl up in bed and never see anyone again. Everything was just too much. You were grateful you were home alone right now so no one would have to see the state you were in. 

You had taken off your work clothes from the day, changing into a comfy sweater and soft lounge pants. You were on the couch wrapped in a fluffy blanket. (You thought that maybe Sirius had used it last, it smelled just like his soapy and musky cologne. You hummed in satisfaction from the comforting scent.) You buried your face in between a cushion and a pillow, hoping your nest would just swallow you whole and never release you. You had a few minutes to calm down before your boyfriends started barreling in. 

First it was Remus’ soft steps as he shucked off his coat before making his way to the kitchen. He probably assumed you were asleep, because when he passed you on the settee all he did was lean down to kiss your temple. You heard him (quietly) clanking around as he put the kettle on. Thankfully the sounds were familiar and comforting, rather than overstimulating. 

Then was James and Sirius, being very loud as they burst through the door, laughing and joking. It made you smile against the pillow. They were talking about something they had seen on the way home. 

“Moons,” Sirius made a beeline to the kitchen. You heard James hiss when he looked over to you. 

“Quiet, Pads.” He scolded. “Baby’s sleeping.” 

“Shit,” Sirius whispered, walking past to get to the kitchen. 

“It’s okay. ‘M awake.” You mumbled, shifting to sit up. 

“Oh, hi sweetheart.” James crouched by the couch. He could cry at how adorable you were, all wrapped in the blankets and what he recognized as his jumper. Sirius and Remus came back into the living room, each holding mugs of tea. 

“Wow, Prongs.” Sirius rolled his eyes. “Gettin’ onto me for being loud only to wake them up right when I leave.” He tsked disappointedly and shook his head. 

“I wasn’t asleep, just resting.” You took a mug from Remus while James sat beside you, hauling Sirius into his lap. The ink-haired boy turned to face you excitedly. 

“Babydoll,” He started. “I was thinking, Marlene is havin’ a thing at her house tomorrow. Not really a party, just a little get together. She was saying something about ‘playing Cards Against Humanity and getting shitfaced.’ How’d you feel about going?” 

You were contemplating heavily. You wanted to go, yes. It sounded like a lot of fun. But hangouts like that stressed you out. You always felt like you were saying the wrong thing, not acting the right way. Especially in small groups. You loved Marlene, you loved her girlfriend and probably everyone else that would be there. But that only made it worse. You wanted them all to like you so much that you overanalyzed everything you said, which likely only made things more awkward because you sounded so robotic and scripted. You tried to keep the worry from your face, but unfortunately James could read you (and almost everyone) like the morning paper and he usually felt the need to call it out. 

“You okay, sweetness? You don’t have to go if you don’t want to.” He reached over to rub your thigh with his warm hand. 

“No, I want to go, I do!” You cut in quickly. “I just-” You snapped your mouth shut before taking a big gulp of your tea. 

“You just what?” Remus asked curiously from where he was sitting on the coffee table. 

“Are you sure she wants me there?” You asked, worriedly. Sirius looked like you had asked if the sky was green. 

“Yeah she does. She wouldn’t have asked if she didn’t. Why wouldn’t she anyway?” His sculpted brows scrunched in confusion. You sighed and set your tea on the side table, starting to fidget and stim with your nails, using enough force to shred your cuticles. James grabbed your hand, encouraging you to play with his fingers instead. 

“I just feel like I never fit in at those things. Like, I don’t know. I just make things weird.” You muttered shamedly. 

“You don’t make things weird.” James said, squeezing your hand. “Why do you think that?” You lost your words suddenly, feeling all too vulnerable. Sirius was looking at you with enough gentleness to make you sob, like he knew you inside and out (he does). 

“I know you get anxious about this stuff. But baby, everyone loves you. I don’t see how they couldn’t. I can promise no one is thinking about how you act as much as you are.” He looked at you, seeing right through you. He abandoned James, making him let out an indignant huff to catapult himself on top of you, wrapping you up and squeezing tight. 

“You know,” Remus started. “I was at work today and Aoife would not stop asking about you. She kept saying I need to bring you over during break because you’re ‘heaps of fun.’” You wanted to scoff but you were too tired. 

“Angel, everyone loves you. I know it doesn’t seem like it, because your brain can’t always tell what people are thinkin’ but they really do.” You looked at James over Sirius’ shoulder. He was looking so soft as he leaned forward to peck your forehead. You were looking doe eyed at Remus and James. 

“Promise?” You asked, quiet and insecure. Sirius pulled away, bringing his hand up to your face. 

“Pinky swear, dollface.” You knew how seriously he took those. You reached up to wrap your pinky around his, face heating as he brought your hands up to kiss your knuckles. 

“Okay, it sounds fun. I’ll go.” You relented happily. 

“Oh thank god.” Remus sounded oddly relieved. “Lily texted me earlier asking if you would be there and I said yes. I really did not want to face her fury.” 

[sleepnowmychild]

Hypnos fashion because I'm autistic about him.

Ok listen,,, I'm special intrest brained so heres my guide to adding Hypnos vibes into your outfits.

Personally, I see Hypnos vibes in Motute, Vintage nightwear and babydoll type styles. The sleepy motif comes through there. So I'm kinda using them as a basline here (also just becuase i like alt and vintage fashion).

Colours: white, grey, black, purple, blue.

motif/prints: poppies (ovbi), stars. swirls, moons, clouds, teddies, sleeping animals, stuffed animals, pillows, blankets, plaid (like classic pj pants), nursey print, characters like care bears/ little twin stars etc. sparkles, if you want a more gothic approach (bc of his nightmare associatons and being twin to death etc) make the stuffed animals all stiched up or posessed looking, patch work/ granny squares, wings, lavander.

textures: frills, soft and fluffy fabrics, fleece, wool, chiffon, flannel, silky, quilted, crochet.

styling: pyjama pants as regular pants, night gown slips over blouses or regular shirts, oversized coats and jumpers, eyemasks as headbands or around neck, bags/coats made from old quilts, fuzzy/frilly/slouch socks, frilly collars/ trims, peter pan/ sailor collars.

acessorries: lace chokers, bonnets, bows, beanies, stuffie backpacks, star/moon/cloud/swirl charms on jewllery, fluffy ear warmers/headphones, star/wing hair clips, poppy crowns,

examples:

for the best effect, find your nearest gothed out Thanatos devotee and walk around together like the twins from the shining :)

[chlobliviate]

Wolfstar Microfic - Beast

Words: 967

@wolfstarmicrofic

🌙✨🌙✨🌙

Remus, for the third time that week, woke up drenched in sweat with his heart racing. The same dream. He transformed back into himself and found Sirius’ thoroughly mauled and mangled body before him. The part of his brain responsible for self-loathing was really kicking it up a notch lately.

He rolled over and just as he was about to open the curtains around his bed, Sirius peeked in from the other side, making him jump.

“Fucking hell, Padfoot!” He hissed, clutching his chest.

“Sorry!” He frowned, “Just came to see if you were ok.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Remus pulled the blanket up to cover him to his chin.

“You’ve been having nightmares again.” Sirius shrugged. “You talk during them, sometimes.”

“No, I don’t!” Remus wanted to crawl under his blanket and never come out. “Do I really?”

“Yeah. There’s been a few mentions of my name lately.” Sirius said carefully. “And you’ve been avoiding me.” Fuck. He should have known that Sirius would notice Remus pulling away.

“It’s… the wolf,” Remus said quietly.

Sirius looked over his shoulder. “Bathroom window.” Remus nodded and then got out of bed, pulling a jumper over his scarred torso.

They crept to the bathroom, Sirius cast a silencing spell and opened the window. It was wide enough for both of them to lean on the frame, shoulder to shoulder while taking in the clear sky. Sirius lit a cigarette and handed it to Remus, before lighting one for himself.

“It’s been the same dream, three times this week.” Remus paused to take a long drag, “I transform back into myself and you’re there on the floor in front of me, completely… I’ve killed you.”

Sirius looked at him, then pulled him into a hug. “That sounds horrible.” Remus nodded. “Have you seen Pomfrey for some dreamless sleep?”

“No. Didn’t want to bother her.” Remus muttered.

“Well, that’s where we’re going before breakfast.” Sirius let Remus go and went back to his cigarette. “Do you think you deserve to suffer or something?”

Remus choked, “What?”

“When your mood is low. Usually about a week before the moon… it’s not that you stop caring for yourself, but it’s like you believe that you don’t deserve to be happy. Like, you’ll feed yourself and shower and sleep, but that’s it. If you’re aching, you won’t take a pain potion, which, might I add, is literally what they’re for, Remus. If you have nightmares, you won’t talk to Pomfrey, fuck, you wouldn’t have talked to anybody if I hadn’t had… You deserve good things, Moony. I hate seeing you suffer.”

He sounded so raw and vulnerable that Remus didn’t know what to do with himself. “I think, when my body starts to hurt, or when I have these nightmares, or I can’t sleep, or whatever, it’s just a reminder that I’m not actually human. I’m a beast. Or a monster. And I always will be. In that moment, I don’t feel like I deserve any relief. I know that’s not what you want to hear, sorry.”

When Sirius turned to him again, he looked so sad and Remus’ heart broke a little bit. “You deserve the world, Moons. You are a good person, you deserve to not be in pain, you deserve to be happy, you deserve to be loved,” Ok, where did that come from? “You deserve everything. Do you not see that having these dreams isn’t because you’re a beast or a monster, but it’s because you’re terrified of hurting people? Of hurting me. How can that make you a monster?”

Remus threw what was left of his cigarette out of the window and stared at his friend. He took in the crease between his eyebrows, the dark circles under his eyes, the starting of stubble across his jaw. Even when he was distressed, he was so beautiful.

“Thank you.” He said eventually. “I hadn’t really considered that.” Sirius nodded, “I don’t know that I believe it, but I want to. That’s a start, right?”

“Yeah,” Sirius smiled sadly, “It’s something.”

“Did I wake you up?” Remus didn’t know what time it was.

Sirius frowned, “Yeah, but I don’t mind.”

“I mind!” Remus hissed, “Fuck, I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for! For fuck’s sake, Remus!” He was glad that he’d cast a silencing charm because the volume at which he'd shouted would definitely have woken James and Pete. Remus froze. “Can you just let me take care of you for one night without apologising? Let me love you, you unbelievable prick!”

They were silent for a while. Remus’ mouth had dropped open and he continued to stare, and Sirius had gone back to looking out of the window.

“Pads, I—”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” He said in a low voice. “I don’t want to hear it.”

“But, would you let me love you?” Remus almost whispered. “Not to be self-deprecating and all that shit again, but do you understand what loving me entails?”

“I’ve loved you for a long fucking time. Of course, I do.” Sirius snapped. “I don’t care about whatever people are going to say. I care about you.”

“Well, I love you… so… there’s that.” Remus’ neck was bright pink, and it caught Sirius by surprise. “I think the nightmares… It was only ever you, never James, Pete or Lily. It’s what would hurt me the most.”

“Well, all the more reason for dreamless sleep then.” Sirius looked at him with a slight smile.

“Would you be mad if I told you I have a bottle in my drawer?”

“I’d be absolutely furious. Now, let’s go back to bed.” He grabbed Remus’ hand and led him back to his bed, grabbing the potion from the drawer before he slid under Remus’ blanket.

[w4ndering-th0ught]

authentic. 556 words. @jegulus-microfic.

When James is upset, he retreats into himself. Goes blank when he thinks no one is looking and shuts himself up in his room when his smile starts to slip.

“He just needs time to get back to himself.” Sirius says when Regulus asks about it, a bit defensive on behalf of his friend.

Sure enough, after a few days James is back to his usual self, glasses smudged and eyes bright.

But it nags at Regulus.

Then Remus comes over a few days before the full moon. He’s in a hideous mood. One minute he’s snapping at James to stop hovering and the next he’s fighting back tears because the sleeve of his jumper snagged on the door handle. James fetches Remus tea and wraps him in a blanket and talks softly for over an hour before Sirius gets home and curls into Remus on the couch, the two of them falling asleep with their noses pressed together.

Regulus and James end up in the kitchen together in an effort to give the other boys a little privacy.

“That was very kind.” Regulus clears his throat, awkward. “Today. With Remus.”

James shrugs as he pours himself another cup of tea. “Everyone deserves a little extra love on bad days, you know?”

“Yeah.” Regulus picks at a spot on the counter. “I know.”

It’s hard to predict James’ sad moods, but the next time it happens, Regulus is ready. He notices it around midday, when Remus is trying to teach them all a muggle card game. James is smiling and laughing and teasing Sirius’ horrible poker face until he isn’t. The smile is still here, but it’s strained, and when Sirius tackles Remus to try and get a look at his cards, it drops off James’ face completely.

He gets up while Remus and Sirius are still scrabbling and mumbles some excuse before retreating up the stairs.

Regulus dashes into the kitchen and brews some tea, grabbing honey and biscuits as well. He puts it all on a tray and taps gently on James’ door. He doesn’t wait for a response, which is probably rude, but fuck it.

James pops up from where he must have been sitting on the floor next to his bed. His back is to the door but Regulus can tell he’s wiping at his face.

James clears his throat and is probably going to tell Regulus to leave but Regulus walks right in and plops himself down on James’ bed, pulling James down with him.

“Wha-” James reaches out and steadies the tray in Regulus’ hands.

“I brought you tea because you’re sad.” Regulus says simply and places the tray on James’ beside table.

“I’m not sad.” James says. His eyes are still glassy.

“Yes, you are.” Regulus turns.

This is the part he’s most unsure about. But. I don’t know. Fuck it.

He leans in and gathers James Potter into a hug.

Regulus was expecting James to go stiff, to shove him off, maybe yell at him a bit. But instead, James melts against him, dropping his forehead to Regulus’ shoulder.

“Everyone deserves a little extra love on bad days, James.” Regulus whispers into his hair.

James laughs, the sound getting caught in his throat.

They stay like that until the tea goes cold, James Potter letting himself be held.

[cryingatwindermerepeaks]

Ok here’s a little something for those who asked for Marauders Era stuff …. It’s mainly focused on platonic Remus/Lily (but a little bit of Jily at the end) set around 5/6th year. Also this is not edited so yeah… sorry

Little/Remus, Little/Sirius, Caregiver/James, (Not yet established but it will be in part 2 caregiver/Lily)

As far as Lily Potter was aware, The students at Hogwarts held a complete disregard for when their prefects got to bed. Honestly, she’d been on patrol all night and busted about half of the school meandering around the halls (and quite a few hidden away in supply closets. Yes Mary, this is about you). It was eleven-thirty pm by the time she’d finished her rounds, cursing Sirius for insisting James needed his beauty sleep and making her patrol by herself. The boys always acted weird around the full moon. Remus, she understood. But the other three were always inexplicably exhausted the next day.

The Gryfindor common room was quiet and still, par a small lump of blanket huddled at the edge of the couch closest to the fireplace. Lily caught sight of the Mousey-Brown hair and smiled softly. Remus. She figured he’d fallen asleep studying again. However, as she drew closer her face knitted in confusion. Remus was quite awake. However his thumb was firmly planted between his lips and the head of a small black stuffed dog was settled beneath his chin.

“Remus?” Lily called out softly, as not to alarm the boy. It was a futile effort though as upon hearing his name Remus whipped his head in her direction, eyes alarmingly wide and lacking any semblance of the calm they’d just held. His body was rigid and stiff as he pulled his thumb from his mouth and shoved his hand behind his curled leg. Lily approached slowly,

“Love, you’re alright, sorry if I gave you a fright,”

Remus’ eyes grew teary and his grip on the small toy grew tighter.

“M’ sorry.” He whimpered. He began blabbering barely comprehensible apologies and promises to never do it again. Lily stood dumbstruck until it suddenly dawned on her. Age Regression. She’d read about it passingly in a few books. Something about trauma and an altered mental age.

She knelt by the couch, eye level with Remus’ now teary cheeks.

“Are you feeling little, love?” She cooed, “It’s ok if you do, you’re not in trouble,”

Remus took a long shaky breath, “Gon’ be in so much trouble, not sposed’ to go out” He whined,

“Who’s gonna get you in trouble? Hm?”

Remus frowned wiping his flushed cheeks,

“Da,” Lily tilted her head in confusion,

“Well I’ll make sure he doesn’t get you in trouble, I promise” Remus buried his face in the soft black fur of his stuffie.

“Who’s this?” Lily asked gently, stroking the small dogs ear,

“Pa’ft” He answered, his still damp cheeks creasing with a smile.

“What a lovely name,” Lily hummed gently, tugging the sleeves of her jumper over her hands and using them to dry the boys face. He giggled wildly as she did this,

“Ickles!”

“Oh it tickles does it?” Lily smirked, before reaching forward and tickling Remus’ stomach. The little squeaked with laughter and squirmed away from her reach.

Lily smiled climbing onto the couch next to him, gently brushing a few brunette curls from his face,

“Do you wanna tell me what you’re doing down here?”

“No sleepy an’ no wake Da’” he explained quietly, breathing returning to normal as he calmed down,

“And who’s Da?” Remus frowned at her, pointing to the stairs to the boys dorm, “Da.”

Lily nodded in understanding, it had to be one of the other Marauders. Sirius, probably.

Remus yawned, sliding his thumb back into his mouth now he was comfortable around Lily.

“You sound tired darling, let’s get you back to bed,” Remus pouted around his thumb but otherwise made no complaints as he uncurled himself from the couch. Remus kept his thumb firmly planted between his lips but tucked his stuffie under his arm so he could hold Lily’s hand.

Thats how the pair made their way to the boys dorm. Which upon opening revealed borderline chaos. James was standing over Sirius’ bed and shaking him awake in only his boxers, Sirius was pathetically hitting the other boys arm away. Peter came out of the bathroom,

“He’s not in there.”

“Looking for this one?” Lily interrupted the panic. The three Marauders turned to her in shock.

“Moony!” James sighed in relief, finally startling Sirius awake.

“Da!” Remus squealed, crossing the floor and throwing himself against the other boy. Oh, Lily thought. That’s not what she’d expected. James looked at her anxiously, a protective arm wrapped around Remus’ back.

“I won’t tell anyone, I promise,” James nodded, squeezing Remus’ shoulder. The boys seemed to calm down after that, clearly trusting Lily as she already knew about the other stuff.

“Thanks for bringing him back,” Peter sighed, collapsing onto his bed.

“Moony you know the rules, what were you doing out of the room?” James reprimanded sternly.

Remus frowned, looking at Lily.

“He was just in the common room, no one else saw him it’s ok.”

James sighed, “You gave Dada a big fright.” If he was hesitant to show Lily this side of his relationship with Remus James certainly didn’t show it.

“S’rry,” Remus sighed around his thumb, still leaning heavily against James.

“It’s ok buddy, why don’t you get to bed now, Dada’s gonna talk to Lily.” Remus nodded and climbed into Sirius’ bed. Now Lily actually looked at Sirius properly she realized that the older boy had his own stuffed stag clutched in his arms, antler in his mouth. How many other secrets were the boys keeping from her?

Remus climbed into Sirius’ bed next to him and James led Lily out of the room.

The pair sat at the top of the stairs. Silence enveloped them for a few moments.

James sighed, “Look. I know it seems weird-”

Lily reached for James’ hand, “I don’t think it’s weird,”

James smiled at her softly, “They’ve just, well, neither of them had brilliant childhoods and I just want to help them however I can.” Lily nodded in understanding,

“How old are they?”

“Remus is around eighteen months and I’d say Sirius is around three,”

“So they regress often?”

“Yeah, I mean, it tends to happen more around the full moon, for Remus at least.” Lily leaned against James’ shoulder, enamored by the soft tone in his voice as he spoke about his friends,

“I think you’re adorable with them,” James’ face lit up, like it would when Lily asked him about his quidditch games or practices, pride beaming off every inch of his skin.

[rockingrobin69]

Midnight magic

The grass is wet and it squelches under his feet and is possibly not even grass, just, mud, just, moor, and the moonlight dancing on his skin makes him tremble like an actual touch. It’s all so—out there. Damp and glittery. Nighttime and shivery-cold and oddly, oddly gentle. A hand in his, clammy; laughter crinkling the corner of an eye.

‘Just a little further,’ murmured, ‘come on, come on.’ Fingers warm and so solid around his wrist, pulling with excitement that’s as fresh as dew and as rumbling as laughter: pulling and they’re here. Out, of the city, of their minds. Out and the world is as true and as big as he’s always suspected it was.

‘Darling,’ a whisper, a kiss delivered right below his jawline, ‘I’m so glad. I’m so glad to be—’

‘Yes,’ Harry breathes, ‘yes, yes,’ and in his heart it hums too, it sings. The night and the trees and the water, it all glistens. It all listens, and soon enough it replies, in buzzing of tiny wings and rustling of leaves. In distant hooting and the wind blowing soothing waves onto the pebbly shore.  

It’s—mad. Harry takes Draco’s face in his hands, kisses and kisses him until he can breathe. Until it makes sense (they’re mad, it’s all brilliant). Until he remembers, it’s the beginning of September and the middle of the night and his heart is three times its usual size under his jumper.

‘Shall we go in?’

He could be serious. Harry grins to the darkness, takes him in closer.

‘You’re mad. The water will be freezing.’

‘Yes. Shall we go in?’ with that little smile. It stretches, then dims. His fine eyebrow arches: ‘We don’t have to. We can just—’

Harry kisses him, helpless, delightfully distracted with the delicate shell of an ear. ‘Yes,’ meaning, anything he wants, meaning Harry is here and is his, all his.

Draco’s eyes on him sizzle. ‘We can just sit and watch the stars for a while. There’s a bit up ahead where I—’

‘Yes,’ he says instead of take me, instead of please, ‘yes, sweetheart, yes.’ A kiss and then another.

They slip a little on the rocks. Harry’s shoes are drenched. It’s cold and he’s so happy he could cry, with Draco’s hand in his and this rush, the magnitude of it. The moon comes back out from behind its blanket of cloud, and Draco is—the words get stuck under Harry’s breastbone. He’s so himself that it aches, it’s brilliant.

Must be visible on Harry’s face. ‘I told you,’ Draco beams. ‘I told you it’s magic.’

Harry’s eyes fill with something terrible and warm. ‘You did,’ he manages through a suddenly-dry throat. ‘You—sweetheart.’

‘Come on,’ with urgency that wasn’t there before. Harry will follow, anywhere; his heart feels crushed open and oddly light. The whole night is, alight. Under the cloudy sky and far too cold on the lakeshore, Harry is here and entirely, completely Draco’s.  

[alwritey-aphrodite]

Full moon with Steven grant

2023 Fall Blurbs

Most people assume that they know Steven, that he's shy and awkward and reserved and quiet. But you know the truth about him, that he’s full of sass and sarcasm, that he’s brave and hardworking and always down for an adventure. Steven, more than any of the other alters, is the one who finds unique restaurants that you need to try, little shops hours away you need to visit, plans romantics dates and doesn’t let you know anything you’ll be doing.

Tonight, as soon as you’d walked through the door, tired to the bone after work and desperately needing some time with your boys, Steven had told you to get changed into something comfortable and be ready to leave in twenty minutes. Despite how badly you wanted to lay down and fall asleep until the morning, you knew that whatever Steven had planned would be perfect, so you managed to change your clothes without falling asleep standing up.

Once you were all cozy in one of Steven’s jumpers, you made your way to the kitchen to see him stuffing a bag full of snacks, but when you opened your mouth to ask what the plan was, he just gently steered you towards the living room.

“Can’t ruin the surprise now, can I?” He says as he makes his way back to the kitchen once he’s satisfied you won’t try snooping around again.

“How long is this surprise going to last?” You ask when he’s finally leading you from the apartment, bag on his shoulder and your hand tucked into his.

“You’ll see,” he responds ominously, with the brilliant smile that you love so much. You’d follow him to the ends of the earth as long as he kept smiling at you like that.

The two of you strolled through London hand in hand, and you couldn’t help but notice when you walked past all your usual restaurants and parks and date night spots. It seems like you’re walking for hours, Steven leading you along and chattering happily about his day and something Marc had wanted you to know as if you weren’t losing your mind trying to decipher where he was taking you.

Eventually, you slow to a stop, and Steven glances around quickly before turning back to you with an excited glint in his eyes.

“Close your eyes, yeah?” You do as he asks, theatrically placing your hands over your eyes so he knows you aren’t peaking, and then you can hear him rustling through the bag, “Almost ready, love, I promise.”

A few moments later, the noises stop and you feel Steven place his hands softly on your shoulders.

“Tada,” he says, and you open your eyes to see a beautiful picnic spread out under the full moon and an even more beautiful Steven, looking so nervous and so proud of his work.

“This is gorgeous,” you tell him, in awe of the view and the work that he put into the surprise. All your favorite snacks are spread out, along with a pile of fluffy blankets to keep you warm in the chilly London nights. He really does think of everything, always remembering your favorite snacks and drinks and colors, remembers all the little details about you that anyone else would forget.

“I know,” he replies, and when you turn to look at him, he’s already looking back at you.

[weirdtinkerbellversion]

Dec 18. Prompt: Fizz. Word count:193. @wolfstarmicrofic

Changed fizz to fizzle, I hope that’s okay

“Hey, Moony, wake up.” Sirius whispered.

“Pads, please. Sleep.”

“I have a surprise for you, c’mon. Before the others wake up.”

Remus knew better than to refuse his boyfriend, and he was also curious (if not slightly worried) about what he had planned.

Putting on a couple jumpers, he follows Sirius out of Potter Manor and into the little woodsy area beside it. Sirius is practically dragging him by the hand as he walks in front of him with a little pep in his step. “Almost there, Moons.”

They come to a stop in a little nook created by three trees where Sirius had set up a blanket and some snacks, and had already started a small campfire for them.

“Pads, what..”

Sirius turned towards his boyfriend with a big smile on his face.

“Happy anniversary, Rem. You always beat me to it, so I wanted to be able to surprise you this time around.”

Remus pulls Sirius towards him, wrapping his arms around his waist, and kisses him, smiling into it.

“Happy anniversary my love. It’s perfect.”

They cuddled on the blanket, watching the stars above them, until the fire fizzled out. 

[monstersandmaw]

Male werewolf x female character (Gabe & Odessa) - Part Nineteen (nsfw)

Disclaimer which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

___

Thank you so much if you commented or reblogged with tags on the last one! This Christmas Day update is for you specifically :). It’s a bit of an ‘in-between’ chapter, and things are going to start wrapping up soon. I’ve now finished writing it all, and each chapter now just needs an edit before uploading. There are three more after this one, and as ever, I look forward to your feedback and reactions. Thank you for beta-reading it for me, as it were!

Content: The full moon is still looming, Gabe & Odessa spend their last few days in and around Pinewatch, and Odessa learns a little about what it’s like for Gabe on the full moon. Wordcount: 4832

Catch up here:

Part One (sfw), Part Two (sfw), Part Three (sfw), Part Four (sfw), Part Five (sfw), Part Six (sfw) Part Seven (sfw), Part Eight (sfw), Part Nine (sfw), Part Ten (sfw), Part Eleven (nsfw), Part Twelve (sfw), Part Thirteen (sfw), Part Fourteen (nsfw), Part Fifteen (nsfw), Part Sixteen (nsfw), Part Seventeen (sfw), Part Eighteen (v. light nsfw), 

Odessa’s last few days in Pinewatch passed in a blur.

When it wasn’t raining, they took the wolf-dogs for walks from Gabe’s house, visiting the meadow by the river from one of their earlier walks a couple of times since the dogs seemed to enjoy it almost as much as Odessa did.

There was something about the way the meadow opened up once they crossed the stepping stones over the stream that sparked an aching in Odessa’s chest, especially on that last time as she stood with her hand in Gabe’s and the dogs snuffling through the meadow and following the scents left behind like the ghosts of the rabbits and deer and foxes that had nosed through the grasses in the night. All around her, the wide, broad sweep of grass had been leached of summer colour to leave faded strands of pale gold dotted with rattling seed heads and prickling teasels, and beyond the boundary of the clearing, tall pine trees stood sentinel.

“There’s a hawk over there, watching us,” Gabe whispered in her ear and she jumped at the sound of his voice after so long in stillness.

“Where? I can’t see anything but trees…”

He smiled and took his time pointing it out while Thunder loped over to the trees to investigate. The movement disturbed it, and the bird took flight in an affronted flap of coffee coloured wings before wheeling away westwards over the forest and out of sight.

Odessa turned and laid her cheek against his chest. He was wearing a light, woollen jumper, and the humble warmth of him in the cold autumn day was wonderful against her body. “If you’d asked me a year ago, I never would have imagined myself saying this,” she said, “But I would honestly love to live somewhere like this now.” She was thinking of his cosy house, nestled in the shelter of the pine trees a few miles away down the valley.

Gabe’s answering smile was accompanied by a flash of gold and a laugh. He hugged her and tipped backwards a little, arching his spine so that her feet left the floor and she whooped a laugh and clung to him, and when he set her down, she found Mia boinging up and down on the spot and snapping her jaws in her own way of laughing.

“I knew you’d warm up to me eventually, princess,” Odessa grinned at the dog, who immediately sneezed and trotted off with her tail held high. Axel looked from Mia to Odessa as if to apologise for his haughty sister, and then slunk off into the brambles around the edge of the open meadow to find Thunder.  

They watched the dogs for a while, but when the clouds started to drift in, they headed back home and curled up to read together on the sofa in his living room, tangled up beneath a simple, cream coloured, knitted blanket.

When rain put pay to their walks on those last remaining days, Gabe drove them into town instead.

They drank coffee together, with their fingers interlaced on the tabletop, and Odessa mapped and learned all the little nicks and scars on his tanned hands from his work outdoors and from running as a wolf through the woods. They ate blackberry cupcakes from Marco’s until they thought they might burst and even Gabe said he’d had enough, all the while chatting and filling in the incidental details of their lives that hadn’t yet come up, while rain made wavering silver bars on the cafe windows. Laughing, they darted from shop to shop, jostling together under the shelter of Gabe’s old jacket, and despite the wet weather, the frizzing hair, the damp clothes, the chilly feet, and the looming knowledge of her imminent departure, Odessa felt happy to her core for the first time in months.

She shrieked and squirmed when an errant raindrop plopped down the back of her neck, and the pair of them drew scowling looks of censorious disapproval from elderly Mrs. MacFarlane up the street when Gabe suddenly snatched Odessa around the middle and pulled her into an empty doorway just to kiss her silly.

He smiled between kisses as he pressed her up against the cold brickwork and she gasped when he rolled his hips once against hers before drawing back, only to return a second later to mouth and bite deliciously at her neck behind the curtain of her dark curls. “I love you,” he whispered, the words barely audible above the rain.

She kissed him back, and she watched his eyes roll closed with a deep, private groan. “What?” she asked.

He nosed at her temple and inhaled deeply, and his fingers tightened where they’d dropped to her hips. “I love the smell of you in the rain,” he rasped against her skin and Odessa blushed. “Can’t get enough of you.”

Joy suffused her expression and she laughed quietly, and it only doubled when she caught sight of Mrs. MacFarlane’s continued shock at their behaviour over Gabe’s shoulder. “I think we’re about to be reported for antisocial behaviour, Gabe,” she giggled in his ear, biting his earlobe and drawing a spontaneous, growling moan from him. That close up, he sounded like a motorbike when his inner wolf growled at her, and she adored it.

He did step back though, and when he turned around and spotted what Odessa was referring to, he laughed and waved jovially at the old woman, as though they hadn’t just been caught rutting against each other in a doorway like teenagers behind the bike sheds.

Mrs. MacFarlane pouted and shook her head as she trundled off in the opposite direction, and when Gabe turned back to Odessa she watched his eyes flare playfully from hazel to gold for a few seconds. “You know, I used to be a respectable member of this community til you came along?” he smirked.

“Corrupting the sweet woodland boy with my evil city ways,” she crooned. “Come on. Take me back home and you can have your way with me there instead.”

He held her hand as they trotted back to his truck through the rain, and he didn’t stop smiling the whole way home.

Appropriately enough, on her very last full day in Pinewatch, they awoke to rain sheeting out of the sky in torrents. After a morning feeling tense and caged and trapped in the house, feeling like they were just waiting for the hours to tick by until the sun set on her final day, Gabe suggested a distraction in town once more, and she practically leapt at it.

Gabe took her to a cute arts and crafts shop that had been closed until then, and in the back corner, she found an oil painting which drew her up short.

“Look,” she breathed, staring at the painting in her hands, and Gabe turned from where he’d been idly browsing some autumnal decorations a few feet away.

A slow-dawning, thousand-watt smile spread across his face when he saw the painting’s subject, and he came over to stand beside her. He kissed her temple and splayed his fingers across the small of her back in a private display of affection.

“It’s the rock where I first met Wolf,” she whispered, looking up at him with wide eyes. “Isn’t it? The one on the path behind the cabin?”

Gabe nodded.

Odessa didn’t think twice about it. She bought the painting.

It was only small, perhaps eight inches across, including the width of the dark, chunky, antiqued frame, but that only made it more magical and more intimate. The rounded boulder sat in a soft wash of warm sunlight, and the grass around it seemed to move and sway if she didn't look directly at it. It felt like looking into a camera obscura and glimpsing a moment in the past.

Sitting in the passenger seat of Gabe’s truck after a late lunch at Marco’s, while the rain still pounded relentlessly on the roof like a drum, she stared unseeing at the protective brown paper wrapping which was now spotted with raindrops. She ran her hands idly around the edges of the parcel, feeling the contours and details of the frame beneath her fingertips, and sighed expansively.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Gabe asked after climbing in and shutting the door with a gentle click. She got the impression he’d been looking at her for longer than she’d realised.

“Hmm?”

He smiled and her eye was caught by the soft, glinting light off the water droplets in his hair. It had gone curly in the rain, though not as wild as hers had. “I said, a penny for your thoughts?” he smiled.

“Oh.” Her gaze dropped back to the parcel and she sighed a second time. “I was just… I mean… looking at this is a bit like reliving the moment I found out about you,” she said. “About what you are, I mean. It’s… It’s like replaying the magic of it all over again.”

“Magic?” he said with a little snort of fond laughter. “You didn’t seem to think it was very magical at the time. The way I remember it, I scared the living shit out of you in the dark, and you nearly cracked your head open falling into the river.”

She had to laugh at that, but it petered out quickly. “No,” she said when she stopped. “You’re right, but… I didn’t mean it like that.”

Gabe sobered a little and asked a question with the tiniest shift in his eyes.

Odessa smiled at him again. “I just… I don’t really know how to explain it properly,” she huffed. “When I saw this painting, it reminded me of the moment I realised I’d found what I’ve been looking for my whole life, without even realising it — without… knowing what was even missing to start with, you know?”

You.

Gabe swallowed thickly and nodded. “Yeah,” he rasped and took her hand in his and squeezed. “I know.”

The short drive back to his house passed in silence; Odessa lost in thought as she cradled her new painting in her lap, and Gabe concentrating on the road while the rain thrashed down. “Hope this clears before you go back tomorrow,” he commented. “I don’t like the chances of your little VW on the roads round here.”

“I’ll be careful,” she said.

“I know.”

They raced inside but still ended up drenched, and Odessa left the painting on the dining table while Gabe went to run her a bath to warm her up. She draped her damp clothes over a radiator to dry them off and stepped into the steam of the bathroom a while later. Despite the gorgeously hot water though, she felt a lingering cold in her bones that had nothing to do with the grim weather of advancing autumn.

Gabe was still downstairs when she emerged from his en suite, and she began to dress herself mechanically, feeling oddly detached and stressed at the thought of leaving in the morning. Gabe came upstairs a few minutes later and found her sitting on the bed in just her jeans and her bra, staring listlessly at the floorboards with her t-shirt held limply in her hands.

Her crossed to her and when she looked dolefully up at him, he knelt between her legs and ran his hands up her thighs. “I know,” he said. “We’ll figure it out.”

She let her fingers rake through his wavy, salt and pepper hair, nails scraping deliciously over his scalp while he knelt with his head in her lap and his arms hugging her hips. The action calmed her a little, but her heart still thudded in her chest.

“You want me to shift?” he asked without looking up.

She paused. She did, but instead she just said, “Only if you want to.”

After a moment’s hesitation, he shook his head. “Not this close to a full moon shift, if I don’t have to.”

“Then don’t. This is more than enough.” And it was.

He kissed her thighs through her jeans and finally sat back on his heels. When he looked up at her, his eyes were gold. She motioned with her head for him to come and join her on the bed, and he slid his arm around her middle and tugged her down to lie on the covers with her back pressed against his stomach while he curled around her.

“Can I ask you about the full moon?” she ventured after a moment of just lying there in his arms while he breathed in the scent of her hair.

“Of course.”

Embarrassed, she prefaced her question with a quick huff of laughter. “Bear in mind I’ve only got movies and stuff to go on…”

Patient as ever, he just nodded.

“Does the full moon mean you have to shift? Does it affect you differently?”

He nodded a little, the movement brushing his nose through her curls. He drew her hair aside and kissed the nape of her neck before answering. “Yeah. We don’t shift uncontrollably, though,” he amended. “We can still remain human if we need to, but it’s right there — always a hair-trigger away. We’d have been wiped out a long time ago by hunters if we couldn’t stay hidden once every month if we really had to, and the wolves who live in the city would have a really hard time of it, but it’s just there,” he said again, and he curled the fingers of his left hand into a fist and flexed them again, like he was working stiffness out of his knuckle joints. “It makes us ache and itch and we don’t feel like we fit into our skin anymore. We become a lot more like our wolf selves too, mentally, even if we don’t shift.”

Odessa tried to hide a smile at that, but when he saw it over her shoulder, he hummed curiously and she let the smile become a giggle. “I’m not sure I can handle Human-Wolf-Gabe. You’ll just be too adorable.”

“I’ll be all over you like a rash,” he growled, and he didn’t sound exactly pleased about it. His usually sweet expression turned sour and he sighed. She turned onto her back and his hand traced the movement to land on her stomach instead. “I’ll be… not ‘possessive’ of you exactly, but I’ll want to touch you. A lot,” he said and he circled his palm absently over her stomach even as he said it. “And I won’t like it if someone comes near you if you’re not comfortable with it.”

“I’d hope you wouldn’t like that anyway,” she remarked dryly, remembering how he’d dealt with Jake that night when she’d felt threatened.

He tilted his head in a ‘point taken’ kind of way, and exhaled heavily. “I’ve kind of forgotten what it’s actually like to be around a wolf at the full moon though,” he muttered. “I usually shift once the sun sets, and spend the night in the woods, if I’m honest.”

“What about the dogs?”

“They stay here. They normally like running with me when I shift, but I’m not able to look out for them in the same way on the full moon. I’m not fully aware of everything in the same way.”

“When exactly is the full moon?”

“It’s… tomorrow night,” he said. His eyes were still bright gold and she wondered if he even realised.

Odessa glanced out of the window, where the dark pines around the edge of the clearing in front of his house danced and waved in the late afternoon rain that was still hurling itself from the flat, silver-grey sky. “Will you be ok?” she asked in a whisper. “I mean, I know you don’t lose control or anything, but…”

“I’m not going to run all the way to the city to find you,” he said with a wry smile at the corner of his lips and a kiss on her forehead. “If that’s what you’re thinking.”

She wasn’t about to admit that it had been.

“And you’re not going to wake up to a monstrous wolf at your door and animal control on the way.”

“Just checking,” she said, cheeks heating. “I guess I could stay? If it would be easier?”

Gabe seemed to give it serious thought, but eventually he shook his head. “No. I think it’s probably best if… if you’re not here this time. If that’s alright?”

“Of course it is,” she said, though she couldn’t help the slight sting of disappointment. Still, she’d experienced a lot of his wolf side in the two weeks she’d been with him, and he’d opened up a lot to a stranger already. “You’re the werewolf… it’s your call.”

He smiled and kissed her forehead. “You warmed up a bit now?”

She nodded. “Snuggling definitely helped.”

“Snuggling always helps,” he grinned, and yanked her right up against his body again. He started to scent her once more, and let out a long, low hum of satisfaction.

A few minutes later, Gabe’s ancient, indestructible Nokia buzzed to life on the bedside table behind him, the little blue brick of Stone Age technology vibrating obnoxiously, and both of them jumped and laughed. He rolled away with a reluctant grunt and read the message.

“Everything ok?”

“Mmm. Tala messaged,” he said. “Asking if we wanted to join a few people at the Boar and Hart tonight for dinner since it’s your last night.”

She swallowed and then nodded. It all felt terribly final again. “You’ll have to take me back to the cabin to change first,” she said. “These clothes are all crumpled after getting wet.”

“You look fine, but we can leave early and go via there.”

They still had hours until then, and what had started as tender, chaste affection soon stoked to a slow but white-hot passion. It began with Gabe running his hands up and down her torso, skimming the soft rolls around her belly and caressing her breasts over the soft, black fabric of her very ordinary bra, to him kneeling on the bed between her parted legs and kissing her inner thighs through her jeans while Odessa scraped her nails gently over the nape of his neck again. When Gabe undid the button of her jeans with careful precision, and drew down her underwear enough for him to kiss the dark hair right above her clit, he moaned and she lifted her hips.

He drew off her jeans and her underwear and she lay back again. Still kneeling, Gabe slid his palms under her thighs, cupping them and squeezing the muscle until she gasped and parted her legs even further for him. He laved his tongue over her and groaned as he tasted her. His nose nudged her clit as he slipped his tongue inside her, and when she gasped and tipped her head back into the pillows, he focused his tongue on her clit again and closed his lips around it in a way that had her crying out and shuddering.

After a while, Gabe sat back and drew off his grey t-shirt and ditched it on the floor, and Odessa drank in the sight of him; of his lean, lithe, outdoor body with its lingering tan lines from the summer and the sprinkling of greying hair across his chest; of the way he moved with all his wolfish focus still on her, as if his own body was merely an afterthought. He was fully hard when he returned to the bed beside her, but instead of letting him have his way with her, Odessa decided to enjoy him first.

She shook her head and smiled, turning her head towards the pillows beside her to get him to lie down next to her. Werewolves, she had quickly come to realise, were creatures that spoke as much with physical gesture as they did vocal language, and he understood immediately.

Lying on his back, with his hands quietly at his sides and his legs slightly parted, cock hard and already starting to weep clear pre-come onto his lower abs, Gabe lay there and stared golden-eyed at her, waiting to find out her will.

She ran her hands up his legs, feeling the way they shivered minutely under her touch, as though every cell in his body was attuned to her, and she let her thumbs trace the jutting outline of his hips. She cupped his balls in her warm palm and gripped the base of his cock briefly before working the shaft in her hand and groaning at just how hard he was for her. He thrust his head back into the pillows and let out an inhuman growl that filled the room and vibrated through her whole body, all the tendons in his neck and the muscles in his shoulders standing proud as he tensed and shivered and exhaled roughly.

“Love that sound, Gabe,” she whispered and it grew louder. “Yes, like that. Don’t hold it back. I want to hear you, Gabe.”

“Odessa,” he hissed between panting gasps.

“My wolf…”

His spine arched and one leg bent and drew up at the knee before he straightened it again, heel driving into the sheets and rucking up the duvet. He desperately wanted more but seemed just content enough for the time being to lie there and let her enjoy him. She loved him all the more for that just then.

Before she made him come from her hand alone, she leaned down over his torso and pressed her naked body flush against his, her breasts resting against his chest, her wet, burning core sliding along the hard length of him. Gabe’s self-control fractured just a little more and he grabbed her hips and kneaded the softness of her arse hard enough that it almost hurt, grinding her down against his hard cock for a little relief.

She kissed his collarbones and his pecs, and then brought both hands to the base of his skull and scrunched his hair, pulling it with unyielding slowness until he let out another sound that was halfway between a moan and a howl. He rutted his pelvis upwards, his hard cock sliding through her wetness, and he gasped her name again, pulling her as close to him as he could without actually being inside her yet.

They moved slowly, savouring the intensity of every motion, and before too long they were both out of breath.

“Oh God, Odessa,” he whimpered, showing thick canines as the shift started to creep over him. “I need you, please…”

“You have me,” she smiled, kissing him full on the mouth. Then she used his shoulders to push herself upright, and after one final, slick roll along the length of his cock, she sank down onto him.

The sound he made as he slid slowly into her tight heat struck her to the core and he curled his torso slowly up towards her, abs clenching, lost in how good she felt, eyes rolling back. “You’re perfect,” he hissed through clenched teeth. “God, Odessa, you’re everything. I can’t — I —”

She rose up before he could slide all the way inside her, and when she sank down again, he all but sobbed.

Taking her time, Odessa watched him unravel beneath her.

Sometimes his spine arched right off the bed, head pressing back into the pillows, while other times he curled upwards towards her, his hands caressing her breasts and then guiding her the motion of her hips until he fell back again, rendered weak and gasping as she tensed her muscles around him and rocked in a certain way that made his eyes flare brighter.

When he began to shake and snarl uncontrollably, she picked up her pace, leaning forward a little to brace one hand on his solid shoulder while she rocked and raised her hips. She felt the sharp prick of claws at her hips and on her thighs and looked up to find his lips drawn back to reveal thick canines. His silver-brown hairline crept a little further forward over his temples and his beard reached a little higher up his cheeks, and he swore.

Heaving growls filled the room, reverberating through her ribs.

“Odessa,” he said in a much deeper and rougher voice than usual. It felt almost primal as he growled, “I’m so close. Please, come with me… I —” He cut off, and his body bucked and shuddered again as pleasure and the need to shift warred inside him.

She realised he couldn’t properly touch her body without hurting her, his claws preventing him from making her come with his hands, and it was that which was driving him wild with frustration. A fond smile grew across her lips and she paused to lean down and kiss his forehead. He snarled at her, but it was mostly laughter, and she apologised for breaking the rhythm by clenching her muscles around him again and sinking as far down onto his cock as she could, grinding her hips in a decadent circle that made both of them gasp.

“Oh God, Odessa, please,” he begged, breathless and desperate.

“Take over for me?” she said, going still and bringing her fingertips to her aching, swollen clit while bracing up on her thighs to give him room to move beneath her. At the slick relief of her fingertips against her core, she moaned and Gabe immediately started to drive his hips up into her in a frantic rhythm.

He caught her just so with every upward thrust, and the snarling, animal, inhuman growls that poured out of him and filled the room only intensified her pleasure. Dizzy with how good it felt to be this close to him, she began to moan and cry out, her left hand still gripping his shoulder for balance and stability while he drove himself repeatedly upwards into her. “I’m going to come, Gabe,” she gasped, head bowing forwards, dark hair forming a curtain of curls over one shoulder. With a little effort, she pushed herself back on her hips to drive him deeper still.

“Close too,” he growled around a mouthful of fangs. “God you feel so good. You’re perfect. I love you, Odessa. I’m yours. I love you, I love you—” he chanted it over and over and then with a rictus snarl he drove up into her one last time and spilled with a muffled grunt.

She could feel his cock spurting and emptying inside her while his body rocked with the force of his orgasm, and with a final couple of nudges against her own clit, she spasmed around him with a broken yell that must have left his ears ringing.

Still coming, Gabe held her close, pulling her hips down onto his cock as if to keep her as near as physically possible for as long as he could. His jaw was clenched, his chest and neck flushed, and his forehead came up to meet her neck while he rocked and growled through his ongoing orgasm. His dark claws pricked into her flesh, only adding to the searing pleasure coursing through her whole body.

Odessa came so hard her vision whited out, but when she finally stopped twitching and moaning, she slumped down onto his chest and listened to his pounding heartbeat for a long time. His cock still occasionally pulsed inside her but his claws retreated and he began to run his fingertips up her sides and across her back, heedless of the sweat that stippled her spine and the little, skittering spasms that shivered through her.

When the wolf had retreated completely from his eyes, he opened them and gazed at her. “You alright?” he croaked.

“Mmmph,” she mumbled and kissed his neck.

A broken moan left him at the press of her lips against his hammering pulse and he resumed his quiet admiration of her body with gentle hands until he eventually began to soften, and she worried about making a mess on the relatively clean sheets. He tried to protest that it didn't matter, but she was having none of it, and eventually he let her get up.

Odessa — very deliberately — only cleaned up as much as necessary to be comfortable before she dressed again, and when she came back into the room and caught the way his nose lifted just a fraction while he sat on the edge of the bed, she smiled with calculated innocence.  

He shook his head and smirked at her.

She crossed to him and stood between his parted knees, and held his face in her hands. His short beard was soft against her palms and she experienced an almost overwhelming wave of affection for him as he stared up at her and smiled.

“I love you too, Gabe,” she whispered, and then she kissed him.

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Next Chapter -->

I wish you a joyous festive season, and if you don’t celebrate, I hope you have a warm and cosy day all the same. Thanks for reading this far in their story, and I hope that you’ll consider reblogging this as well as leaving a like if you enjoyed it.

Take care, and I hope you have a lovely day/night wherever you are, and whenever you read this.

Masterlist | Ko-fi (tip jar)

[wannabepapa]

Haiii!!!!! Coming in with an ask to hopefully brighten your day at least a little!

I keep thinking about renting a quiet cabin somewhere where there's lots of snow for the holidays. I'm due in a month or so, so we wanted to spend one last holiday season snuggled up together before our bundle of joy is here. We get snowed in, but there's no cause for worry; we've got plenty of supplies and each other's company. Cozying up next to the fire, donning massive sweaters that look ridiculous yet adorable on us. Mine would be tight around the belly, but that makes for easy belly rub access, so I view that as a plus. I'd get you all situated by the fire with plenty of pillows and blankets before waddling off, coming back a few minutes later with some warm cookies and two mugs of cocoa. After everything's situated and settled, I'd crawl into your cocoon of blankets to snuggle up next to ya, letting my belly, alive with the movements of our little nugget, rest gently on your tummy. A perfect evening for a snowed-in couple of goobers, and as the fire smolders to embers, we'd either sleepily head to bed or decide to stay snuggled up on the couch for the night.

Or something like that sdjbahdahsbfha I am rambling hard. I am very eepy so thoughts are a little jumbly rn. Anyways enjoy this slightly messy Marin Brain Thought™

Marin, light of my life, the sweetest friend to ever exist!!!!!!!!! I am kissing your head because that brain is beautiful and I am so very appreciative of this ask it hits me in the feels for the cozy and domestic stuff!!

We take this moment—it's the holiday season and we deserve a break before baby comes—to disappear into a cozy cabin for the remainder of the holiday season. Our perfect second baby moon (I would have taken you on another holiday while you were around five months pregnant because the woman carrying my baby DESERVES A HOLIDAY) to not only reign in the new year but to celebrate us before bringing in a new being. I have made sure that we've got the coziest place with the perfect views before booking our nearly three week trip.

I have purposefully overpacked so we would have our favorite blankets, pillows, pjs, and even some of the baby's stuffed toys so we would feel comfortable on vacation. I have never been anywhere that has snow that didn't melt the next day so this is exciting for me. I've got new jackets and jumpers for us to cuddle in by the fire so we stay pleasantly bundled while watching the snow fall. I hope the baby is as excited for this trip as we are because this cabin is perfect and I don't really want to leave.

You bury me in our soft things and all the things we found in the cabin to make a nest of the living room floor. We don't have our at home but this will do as a temporary replacement. I keep trying to drag you back in to get warm though you keep escaping my grasp to waddle away. When you come back with snacks and cocoa I can't help but imagine our little nugget toddling right beside you with our newest addition nestled safely in your now noticeable bump. Who knows, maybe I'll be the one wrapped up in blankets with our newest addition while you get snacks for our happy toddler.

As you nestle down beside me my arms bring you in close, a hand spraying over your swell to feel our baby. That jumper is stretched so thin we can see their movements clearly—I love pointing out their little feet and poking them to play. Once we're settled I talk about how this is a perfect tradition to continue with our family, and how I can't wait to have another baby with you.

[sam-glade]

The Night Sky

For the @flashfictionfridayofficial 's prompt #FFF219 Under the Night Sky. Did I mention there are way too many late night conversations between Gullin and Lissan in Gifts of Fate?

Characters: Gullin, Lissan Setting: Sunblessed Realm WC: 575 CW: - Context: During the first half of Gifts of Fate, they're spending the winter in an abandoned manor, in hiding.

Days of Dusk taglist (please message me to +/-): @acertainmoshke @another-white-void @cee-grice @cljordan-imperium @elshells @poetinprose @sparrow-orion-writes

"What are you doing?" Gullin asked. It came out more grumpy than he'd intended. In fairness, it was much, much colder outside than he'd thought it would be, well below freezing. Did it ever get this cold in the city?

Lissan looked over his shoulder. He was standing on the steps of the porch, leaning against the left roof support – the more solid one. His arms were crossed on his chest, not bracing himself against the cold, but naturally, betraying his low mood. His breath was coming in large puffs. 

How was he not freezing in just a jumper pulled over his nightclothes? Gullin's teeth chattered at the sight of him, and he congratulated himself for thinking to wrap a blanket over his sheepskin jacket, which he wore over the uniform’s coatee.

Lissan turned to him fully and gave him a sheepish look. Gullin looked him over, assuring himself that Lissan hadn't snuck out of the manor in the middle of the night to run away. He didn't have his jacket or a pack. He didn't even bring his Sword.

"Where's your Sword?" Gullin checked on an instinct.

"In my room. I–" He looked away with a grimace. "Yes, I know, don't get separated from it. The Nameless wouldn't shut up. I thought that a little bit of distance could help."

"So you out for a walk?"

He huffed and turned back to staring at the empty yard in front of the manor, averting his eyes from the Dragon Tree to the left, which shone brighter than the powdery snow in the light of the gibbous moon. He shook his head.

"No, just… looking. The night sky might be the only thing here that's the same as back home."

Oh.

Gullin braced himself and stepped up to the bannister next to Lissan. He leant on it gently, testing its structural integrity, but it seemed in a good enough shape to support him. He ducked under the porch's roof and looked up at the sky.

The stars blinked back at him crisply, stark against the uniformly black backdrop. This… no, this was nothing like the night sky over Redguard. This was so much more like the Void, especially with that silvery-purple streak running across it, whatever that was. A wave of vertigo overcame him, but no, he wasn't travelling through a gateway; the air tasted of smoke and snow, and the bannister was (relatively) solid under his elbows.

It was beautiful, just like the Void. He'd never realised that the sky could be this clear and dark; the sky over Redguard always had an orange tint to it near the horizon, and there were definitely  much fewer stars. And the starry streak had its appeal – it made him think of a stronger current in a slow-flowing river. He narrowed his eyes, but no, there were really so many stars that he couldn't make them apart.

"You all right?" Lissan's half-amused, half-concerned tone pulled him back to reality.

"Yeah, I just never realised the sky could be this–" pretty. "Dark."

Lissan frowned at him until he described what the night sky looked like over Redguard. Lissan didn't seem convinced, but he didn't argue either.

"It's just like this over Beetletun," he said with a shrug. "Pretty."

Gullin sighed and pulled the blanket from his shoulders. Lissan accepted it with a hum of surprise, wrapped it around himself, and leant back against the frame of the porch.

[celestemagnoliathewriter]

Chains

Written for @remadoramicrofics day 3: cellar. G, 1200 words. references to bodily injuries, blood, wounds. Read below or on Ao3.

Tonks’s back itches. The tree she leans against digs into her bare skin. She shifts, more uncomfortable than before, and tugs her jumper down again to see if it will help. It doesn’t, and now she’s shivering.

“Need help?”

Remus is taking his worn cloak off. He points his wand at it, transfiguring it to a soft, brown blanket. As Tonks accepts it from him, hiding the little sniff she takes of Remus’s warm, earthy scent, she notices a set of angry welts around his wrists, peeking out from the ends of his sleeves. She says nothing and crouches down to wrap the blanket around her shoulders. Remus joins her on the ground, his trouser legs riding up, revealing a set of similar, freshly wrapped wounds around his ankles where his socks have slid down. She turns her face away, struggling not to linger on his wounds, and looks up at the starry night sky.

“Tell me another story about your school days,” she says, knowing it’s one of the few topics that can arouse the greatest joy out of him. “Didn’t you say you charmed all the toilets to sing?”

A nostalgic smile grows on Remus’s worn, fatigued face. He waves his hands around, taking the welts with him, and Tonks holds his transfigured cloak tighter, recalling what she’d seen at Grimmauld Place earlier that day.

**********

The morning after the last full moon dawned stormy and grey. Tonks discovered the Floo to Grimmauld Place’s kitchen was disconnected, as it always was when Remus was transformed, so she had no choice but to Apparate from her flat to the top step of headquarters to check on him.

Not that he wanted her to check on him. He’d said, many times over, that his transformations were his alone to bear. Nevertheless, he accepted Sirius’s help, and Tonks was determined to break down the stupid wall he held around anything related to lycanthropy.

When she marched into headquarters, her iron-clad resolve set on finding Remus, a different ghost of a man stopped her before she could even get to the stairs.

“What are you doing here?”

“How is he?” Tonks asked, darting her eyes upstairs, where Remus’s room was.

“The same as always,” Sirius replied curtly. “He doesn’t want you here.”

“I don’t care.” She tried to move around him but Sirius wouldn’t budge.

“Tonks,” he said, holding her firmly by the shoulders, “come with me first. Then tell me you still want to see him.”

Her face scrunched up in anger, but as she had no other option, she followed him down to the kitchen, where a door she’d never seen before was half-open.

“The cellar,” Sirius explained. “It’s usually charmed to be invisible.”

“You want me to go down there?” Tonks poked her head inside. It reeked of blood, sweat, and something she couldn’t place.

“Use Lumos maxima. Come up when you’ve seen everything.”

Tonks raised a red brow at him, confused at what game Sirius was playing, but she turned to the stairs and cast the charm.

A gasp emerged from her lips the moment she saw the steps. Paw prints and footprints were mixed with smears of fresh, scarlet blood. Tonks maneuvered around the puddles of blood, making her way down to the dirt floor, which was caved in with a few puddles of dark liquid. The brick wall, to her left, held a set of chains, with deep, jagged cracks along the walls where something—or someone—had tried to break free.

Tonks gulped and set her wand light on the chains. They, like so many other parts of the cellar, were caked in crusty blood, but as her nostrils caught up to her, she realized urine and feces had made their mark along the floor and walls. A drop of moisture fell to the dirt floor; she realized it had come from her own eyes.

(A few weeks ago, she’d seen chains like this in a sex shop and joked at Remus the next day, only to see him shut down when she mentioned how sexy he’d look in them.)

She brushed the wetness from her cheeks and tucked her wand closer to her body. She didn’t know what Sirius was playing at by making her see this horror scene, but it hadn’t deterred her from wanting to see Remus.

Tonks cast poorly placed cleaning charms on the steps as she went back up to the light-filled kitchen. She stomped up to the tired ex-convict responsible for Remus’s care and flared her nostrils.

“I need to see him.”

“You inherited quite a lot from our family,” Sirius said calmly. “My Aunt Druella had the same expression whenever I put custard into her boots.”

Tonks nearly laughed. She shook her head, scrunching her face to look angrier, and stared her cousin down.

“I want to see Remus.”

Sirius sighed tiredly. “Why?”

“Because he’s my friend and I want to make sure he’s okay.”

“Go home, Tonks.”

“No—”

“Go. Home. He doesn’t want you to—”

“Why?” Tonks interrupted angrily. “You’re friends. We’re friends. Why doesn’t he—”

“You and I both know that he’s got more than friendly feelings for you,” Sirius said quietly. “You’re the last person he wants seeing what it’s like for him.”

“But I want to—”

Sirius shook his head. “Moony’ll stew all day if you see him. He’ll second-guess anything you do or say.”

Wincing, Tonks looked around her, setting her eyes on a roll of parchment sitting on the table. “What if I wrote him a letter?”

Sirius summoned the parchment, a quill, and a pot of ink. “As long as you don’t see him, write whatever you want.”

**********

Stories from their school days have been shared and Tonks sees the emerging sunrise on the horizon. Remus hasn’t said a word about the letter she left him; she wonders if Sirius delivered it. The lull in their conversation has gone on long enough that Tonks thinks Remus is ruminating.

“Did you get my letter?” she asks suddenly.

“Thank you, I did.”

“And?”

“You’re very kind.”

She leans her head on his shoulder. Remus’s breath hitches but he doesn’t move.

“Does that mean you’ll let me see you next time?”

“It’s not so simple for me,” he mumbles.

“But it can be,” she returns gently. Tonks finds his arm and raises it, slowly uncovering one of the healing injuries around his wrist. “I’m not afraid of this. It doesn’t change how I feel.” She runs her fingers along the back of his hand, delighted when his fingers reach back for hers.

“I can’t give you what you deserve.”

“I choose what I deserve.”

She brings his hand up to her lips and kisses it, her stomach flipping violently when his pupils go dark and wide.

The sun has risen, drenching them in its buttery rays. They turn to face each other, avoiding the direct light, and Tonks sees Remus’s eyes flicker to her mouth.

“Do it,” she whispers. “Kiss me.”

Remus’s throat bobs. He looks away for a fraction of a second but bends his face closer, hesitating once more before lightly brushing her lips with his.

[fawnsflowerbed]

If You Asked Him To || Leon Kennedy x Reader

Who loves angst? I do, I do!

Using @whygodohgodwhy 's conversation prompt.

“He’d die for you, if you asked him to.”

“I know. And it worries me that I’d never have to ask. He’d do it anyway.”

(Sorry if this is a little short)

After another long mission, you and Leon recall the toll this life has taken on the both of you.

Post re4 Leon x reader

Warnings: Angst ahead, mentions of violence and death, Leon and reader just wanting a normal life.

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After months of waiting, pleading with the universe that you’d get him and not a sad knock at the door followed by a heartbreaking message, you heard the door open slowly. You felt your own chest clench at the thought of that being someone other than him. Now wasn’t the time to be thinking like that. You’d memorised the sound of his footsteps. The distance between each step, how long it took him to get to the coat rack, and the small puff he always let out before climbing the stairs to your room. Two steps to the coat rack. Another five to get to the staircase. A slow exhale, then more footsteps.

It was him.

You were so glad it was him.

You’d get mission updates from time to time when he was away, the occasional message passed on from Leon to Hunnigan as she handed the transmitter over for you to read. Usually cheesy, something quick and sweet with little details to secure the notion that it was him. 

‘Missing you, sweetheart. Keep our bed warm for me <3.’

‘View here’s amazing. Wish you could see it, sugar.’

‘ I have to keep these messages sfw, so I’ll leave it at I miss you. You can learn the rest later ,’:)’

Especially that last one. That face sealed the deal that it was definitely him. He found it hilarious, and would sit laughing to himself at how pissed you’d get at him for how often he’d use that stupid little emoticon. 

And honestly in times like these, he needed it. Needed to know that no matter how worried you were, deep down part of you was rolling your eyes at something as dumb as a little face. He was a full-fledged dork with you, and he loved every second he could spend making you so much as smile. But that laugh knocked him off his feet. He loved making you laugh. 

That’s why whenever he had to leave, he’d crack a new little joke before heading off. He just wanted to hear that laugh one last time, that heaven-sent laugh that took a weight off of his chest.

“I think you should replace that calendar while I’m gone. Its days are numbered.”

“You know if we get a goldfish we gotta get him a bowtie, too. Then he’ll look extra sofishticated.”

“That moon looks amazing right now. Got his hair done and everything. I gotta ask him what barber he goes to. Oh you know what, I bet eclipse it.”

And then there it was. A little curl of the corner of your lips, a shake of your head as you wiped your eyes and chuckled weakly. Anything to soften the blow. To let him know you’d be okay.

But you never were. You’d never be more okay with this situation. Not when your partner was running off to some corner of the world to prevent a war or global catastrophe.

Especially after the Tall Oaks incident.

Leon had come home from that mission, bruised and broken from exhaustion, to find you wrapped in one of his old RPD hoodies. You’d curled up on the bed you shared, hoodie over your head as each silent sob shook your body. You hadn’t bothered to pull the blankets up over yourself. You just laid there, knees to your chest as you tried to snuggle even deeper into the fabric of the jumper. Searching for his heartbeat under the polar fleece, as if digging into it enough would reveal to you that this was all just a bad dream. And when you couldn’t feel his steady body with you, you kept weeping.

All he could do was stare for a moment. His heavy body, scarred and sore, pressed against the door frame as he watched the love of his life mourn him. He had limited contact with Hunnigan at that time, meaning there was no break for sappy messages and check-ins. No time to remind you that he was still alive. That’s when he realised just how much of a toll this had on you. 

He just bundled you fully into a hug without a word, watching those puffy (E/C) eyes stare up at him in a mix of confusion, realisation, and pain. A sob rolled from your lips as you clung to him as if he were oxygen, grateful to feel the usual sensation of his hand stroking over your hair as he muttered soft reassurances of  ‘I know, baby. I’m here. I’m safe.’ He’d change his bloodied clothes later, run you both a bath and refuse to leave your side. You both couldn’t stand the thought of parting.

 Since then Leon had sworn to take the time to speak to you when he was off somewhere. Even if it was just a quick ‘I’m still here’. To let you know he wasn’t leaving you, not on his watch. He’d walk through hell to get back to you. To hold you in his arms after a week of fighting nonstop.

Since then, he was now floored whenever he came home from usual missions. 

Much like he was about to be right now. He sighed out as he reached the stairwell, heard the tip tapping of your sock covered feet racing down the carpeted stairs, and gave you that usual Kennedy tired smile. He was almost knocked off his feet at the force of you sprinting up to him and engulfing him in a hug that smelt of fresh air and most importantly, home. The fact that the sheer strength of your love for him could nearly kick him to the floor was what he adored about you. Your love was big. Huge. He was amazed that such a big heart could fit in such a little body.

That’s why he couldn’t bear to abandon you like that. To leave you waiting by a silent door, sitting slumped on the staircase as you searched for any sign of him. He didn’t dare imagine it. The wail you’d let out as some unknown soldier told you the details of his death. The way he knew you’d crumple to the floor. How you’d refuse to leave bed for weeks, months even. He ran a hand over his face, staring at his reflection in the mirror to wake himself from that nightmare.

And that night he just stayed up watching you sleep soundly in his arms. He focused on the patterns of your breaths, each slow inhale and exhale that moved through your lungs out into the air. Leon’s hold on you tightened slightly, as if scared you’d drift away if he was too loose with you. Too sloppy. Too relaxed. He’d already lost so many people, but he refused to lose you. To leave you.

Leon got so worried about you when he went away. He just couldn’t show it, or you’d worry even more than you already did. He’d sit staring at his hands and imagine your smaller ones nestling there, interlocking your fingers with his own. He’d stop and stare at flower shops on destroyed downtown streets and wish he could give you that regular lovebird relationship. Flowers every month, breakfast in bed. But instead he left you with a kiss, a hug, and an ‘I’ll be back soon. Promise.’

And if he broke that promise, in that sick afterlife he’d never forgive himself.

You were his comfort, his safety in a hallway of a thousand living corpses. His flashlight in a dark room for the loneliest blackout. Every curve of your being, every hair, every freckle and mole. You were sculpted and chiseled into the image of perfection and delivered to him wrapped in soft blankets as you were escorted into the DSO office. 

And from that moment on, he had someone new to protect. Someone he was willing to take a bullet for.

You’d arranged to visit Claire at her work and volunteer wherever you could. What you weren’t expecting to see was the kids they currently had in temporary care, recovering from the unresolved issues revolving around the Panamstan incident so many years ago. The traumas still affected so many kids, no matter how young they were. That fear was passed down into these children somehow. So as you took your time washing up the used plates to help Claire prepare dinner for the children, all you could do was watch Leon.

When you stood in the Terrasave office watching Leon check in on the kids in recovery, you felt that bittersweet sting in your chest. After dating for so so long, you finally sat down and discussed potentially having a family in the future. Both of you were hesitant to even think of it. But god, how you wanted that picket fence life. The two kids with a dog. The home cooked meals and Leon ducking behind you in the kitchen to cuddle you. It was just so risky. Leon woke up in cold sweats from nightmares of coming home to the same situation he was found in as a child. Beloved slaughtered, children vanished. And so you’d rub his back as he laid his head on your chest, feeling the gentle stroke of your fingers through his hair as his breath evened out. He found a home in your soul that he refused to leave.

All you could focus on right now was how happy he looked. That spring in his step, brushing his hair out of his eyes with a loud laugh as he dodged a kid’s attempt to tackle him. How natural it was for him to interact with kids. The way his demenour changed depending on if he was roughhousing with the boys or hugging one of the little girls crying in the corner. In another lifetime, where you weren’t surrounded by violence, he would’ve made such a great father. The best papa. 

You could almost see it. It was just out of reach, like it was caught in a fog. No matter how fast you ran, you just couldn’t catch up. But you could make out the sight of a baby girl swaddled in blankets as Leon wiped his eyes. He’d hold her in one arm, holding your hand with the other. Whispering over and over about how thankful he was and how much he loved you. Hearing your daughter stir slightly as he shushed her gently. You could feel that love flood your body in a knee-buckling tidal wave of agony.

“I can practically hear your yearning from here.” Claire couldn’t help but smile at you, her voice knocking you out of your painful imaginary state. All you could do was shrug. It was a sad shrug, no matter how hard you tried to hide it. She could’ve read it like a book anyways, Claire was always good at picking up on body language. A drained sigh left your lips.

“We’d kill for that kind of life.” You mumbled into your mug as you raised it to your lips, chasing down the left over cold water. Claire’s once cheerful expression faltered as she set her own cup down to look out the window with you. Your nails dug into the ceramic of your cup as you spoke. “He’s just so scared of us getting hurt.”

She put a hand on your shoulder with a solemn look. You both knew just how far Leon was willing to go for you. Her eyebrows knitted in worry and sympathy at you. “He’d protect you with his whole heart. He already does. He’d die for you, if you asked him to.”

You blinked back waterworks as you locked eyes with Leon in the backyard. He’d stopped just for a second, just to catch his breath before going back to carefully crash tackling with the kids.

You kept that eye contact as you responded to Claire, voice numbingly flat as you forced a smile at him. “I know. And it worries me that I’d never have to ask.” When he grinned back, so pure and genuine, full of a liveliness you hadn’t seen in an eternity,  you couldn’t help the single tear that trickled down your cheek.

“He’d do it anyway.”

[scarletttries]

I Can Read You Like A History Book (Steven Grant Request)

Pairing: Steven Grant (Moon Knight) x Reader

Rating: Explicit (Gender neutral pronouns through, a little bit of teasing but mostly just sweet)

Word Count: 1.5k

Request: " Could you write a reader forcing Steven to read while they stroke him please."

Author's Note: Another bit of Steven Grant love for everyone (like me) who isn't over him yet 🥹 Thank you to everyone sending me these headcanons, please send more Steven requests/thots anytime 🥰

I Can Read You Like A History Book

Steven didn't really understand the phrase 'good night' until he met you.

Before you, nights were an endless cause of stress, confusion and a one way ticket to a morning of feeling more exhausted than ever. Steven dreaded the feeling of his eyes growing heavy, reluctantly locking himself into place for the night and fighting off the cold of the night, alone in his cocoon of blankets. Those bitter memories seem a lifetime away now though: the once lonely sheets now wrapped around you both, your shared warmth and joy soothing his restless heart and mind. No, settling into bed with you was now one of Steven's great joys, draping an arm over your waist to ground himself as all else drifted away. Occasionally though, he did need a little reminder that he no longer needed to spend all night keeping himself up.

Tonight was one of those nights.

It started with a new book, on Egyptian history of course, a brand new volume from his favourite researcher all about newly discovered artifacts in the desert and what they might mean. You watched him break into it the minute he got home from work, barely glancing up as you ate dinner, apologetic but entranced by the words. Not that you minded, it was always a pleasure to see Steven happy and excited, the bright sparkle in his eye as he absorbed the new knowledge and gasped along to the groundbreaking discoveries. You'd first met Steven at the museum, asking a simple question about one of the exhibits and getting an hour-long private tour in return. There was something about the way he shone as he spoke, the passion in his words, the intelligence behind those disarmingly good looks that had your heart beating faster every day since. Even tonight as he sat quietly on his sofa, you watched his eyes flitting word to word, tongue darting out as he worked through the pages and felt a warmth spreading throughout your entire being.

You left him to it as night approached, popping on a lamp when it grew darker, and bringing a fresh cup of tea when the old one was long forgotten and horribly cold. But when Steven's excitable gasps turned to hard-fought yawns, you decided it was time to call it a night for you both, jnowing he would need a little bit of persuading to set his book aside. Pulling on one of Steven's loose jumpers and sliding out of your jeans you put your plan in motion.

The enraptured man finally pulled his eyes away from the text as you settled onto the sofa beside him, resting your head against his shoulder as his lips pressed to your forehead instinctively,

"How's your book going gorgeous?" You asked softly, watching his beaming smile as he gushed excitedly, "It's incredible! It could prove the ancient Egyptians had even more deities than we thought! Doing all different jobs for the people and their lands." You combed your fingers through the mop of curls languishing on his forehead, cuddling closer as you asked pleadingly,

"Will you read some of it to me? Please Steven." The wide adoration in your eyes as you stared up at him had his heart skipping a beat, momentarily losing the ability to read or speak as he took in your loving gaze. It wasn't until you nodded towards the book that he re-joined you on planet Earth and snapped back to attention,

"Oh right! Of course love, sorry." And with that his eyes returned to the page, narrating the discoveries with heartfelt wonder as you cuddled close to his side, on hand still running through his thick hair, listening to his breath catch in his throat whenever your fingers caught the most sensitive spots on his neck. Slowly you let your free hand drift to his lap, delicately tracing shapes over his thigh through the soft fabric of his plaid pyjamas. Though you intentionally made your movements seem absent-minded, you paid close enough attention to hear the soft hum Steven let out at your touch, before quickly returning to the words on his page, slightly embarrassed by his sensitivity to your touch. As he continued line by line, you let your hand drift slightly higher, watching a blush creep across his cheeks every time his voice went up an octave at your caresses. Feeling increasingly flustered Steven felt his mind wandering away from his book, the blood exiting his brain in favour of other parts of him. He tried to keep his composure as you looked up at him adoring, letting out a sharp whine as you pulled your hands away from him. His eyes snapped up to your shifting form, breaking his literary flow with a disappointed look,

"I'm just getting comfier gorgeous," You said sweetly, lifting one leg over his lap until you were straddling his thighs, unavoidably brushing yourself over the bulge forming between them. His eyes fluttered shut for a second, head tilting back, book all but forgotten until you lifted his chin with a gently placed finger tip, giving him your best innocent pout,

"Please keep reading to me Steven, I love listening to you. You're so smart," You punctuated the word with a kiss on his forehead and a circle of your hips, "and so cute," this time your lips landed on his nose, "and so sexy." Finally you found his lips, planting a chaste kiss and getting a fevered nod in response, his eyes desperately trying to focus on the pages in his hands as you let yours fall into his lap.

He picked up the narrative again, voice a lot more flustered this time, struggling to take in the words as your fingers started brushing lightly over the now obvious tent in his pants. The light friction was enough to make his hips twitch, his brow furrowing in concentration as he kept up his best effort at articulation. Gradually your teasing touches grew firmer, rubbing your thumb over his clothed tip, the gentle circles of your hips bringing Steven closer and closer to the edge. You rubbed your palm over the length of him, feeling his thighs start to shake as he stumbled and stammered over every attempted word, his usual tone replaced by whines and moans as you moved.

"Umm, love, I.." He started, eyes no longer fixed to his text but to your steadily brushing hand instead. You paused your movements at his break in focus, earning an involuntary whimper as his hips bucked helplessly chasing his release.

"Please keep reading Steven." This time your tone was less sweet, more teasing, watching his eyes widen in desperation for your touch, so close to his release as he picked up the story's thread, sighing in relief as your hand returned to its rightful place around him. As you palmed him through his pyjamas you took two fingers into your mouth, sucking enthusiastically with a hum before they left your lips with an audible pop. Steven frantically tried to ignore the motion, struggling to sound out each word as the heat inside him grew, gulping as you pulled the waistband of his pants open slightly to slip your now slick hand inside. You ran your wet fingertips over his sticky tip, thumb rubbing a firm line down his length, and he was gone. The book clattered from his hand as he groaned your name, hips shaking beneath you as you pumped the length of him, feeling his underwear fill with his own warmth, the bliss of his release painting your hand and his lower stomach. He sighed exhaustedly as he came down from his high, leaning forward to kiss you hungrily, hands finding your waist with a vice-like grip. As he pulled you tightly against his chest you rocked against his thigh, suddenly painfully aware of your own aching arousal, the fun of teasing Steven stirring up more than a little excitement inside you. His hands drifted down to cup your ass, squeezing with a hum as his lips still clung to yours, smiling as he rocked forward, getting to his feet with you wrapped around his waist. He finally pulled his head back for a breath, a wide smile across his face as he asked breathlessly,

"Do you really like hearing me read that much?" You nodded happily, returning his kiss before adding,

"That and I think it's time for us to go to bed." You watched as your words put a devilish smile on his usually innocent face, carrying to you towards the bedroom in total agreement,

"You're absolutely right love, but you're not getting to sleep before I pay you back for that little stunt."

Safe to say going to bed wasn't something Steven dreaded anymore.