#remus x you

[moonyysgirl]

i NEED another loser!dealer!remus x reader PLEAK 🙏

ask and you shall receive !! 🫶🏻🫶🏻

I'm the only one who can touch you - Remus Lupin x reader

paring; remus x fem!dealer summary; dealer!remus and reader meets at a party after hooking up cw; smut, dealer!remus, loser!remus, jealous!remus, remus is giving subby kinda, semi-public kink, both reader and remus are intoxicated

A week had passed since you and Remus made out and you couldn’t stop thinking about it. He would make eye contact with you in the hallways and you would blush and try to keep your cool while listening to your friends talk, oblivious of what happened.

You wanted to speak to him, you wanted to spend time with him, you just wanted to be in his presence really, but you didn’t know how. You weren’t brave enough to go and speak to him in front of everyone, in front of his friends, or yours.

It was so hard and frustrating to sit in front of him in the classes you had together. His scent intoxicating you, your thighs squirming together remembering the feeling of his hands on you. Everyone unaware of your secret, you and him the only ones knowing.

When you heard about this house party you were honestly relieved, you wanted to have some fun and maybe get a little tipsy to distract yourself from Remus and really even from your ex, that was still so present in your thoughts, making you sad and regretful after realizing it was the biggest waste of your time.

And also, you knew Remus was going to be there, cause he didn’t miss a single party: he was always there selling stuff. You had him in mind while getting ready. You wore a tight shirt, with long loose sleeves, a short pleated skirt -without tights, as he liked- and a pair of black docs.

The party was at one of your classmate’s house, he would always host parties cause he had a huge house and his parents were often away for the weekend. You arrived late after pregaming with your friends, the music already blasting, the backyard crowded with little groups smoking in circles and throwing themselves in the heated pool.

You spotted the rest of your group, sitting around the fire pit on the patio. You went up to them, and you were greeted with enthusiasm. You decided to go inside to greet some friends and maybe take a couple of shots. 

Your heart dropped when you spotted your ex in the crowd, talking to his friends. You were going back outside when you heard his voice calling you. You sighed deeply, your chest filling with dread. 

“Hey y/n!” You could see he was a little tipsy “hi” “how you’re doing” you shrugged “fine” “I’m happy to hear, you know, I’m still upset about everything that happened” “right, yeah, no, I know” there was a moment of silence, your eyes wandering in search of a way out of that conversation.

“Hey, you wanna take a shot?” He asked suddenly, everything about him was so odd, you gritted your teeth and just nodded, hoping that he would leave you alone after that. He picked a couple of shot cups from the counter filling them with vodka.

You inhaled deeply before chugging the shot in one sip. The bitter liquid burning your throat, a syrupy stripe falling down the side of your lip. Your ex boyfriend smiled at you, his thumb brushing your lip, cleaning it up.

You flinched, squirming away from his touch “what is it?” He asked “Nothing, it’s just…” “do you want to take a walk?” You sighed “listen, it was nice to see you, but I think it’s better if I go back outside, the girls are waiting for me” 

He shrugged “who cares, just lemme- you shook your head “I don’t want to okay? You were always so shitty to me and i don’t want any thing more to do with you.” You snapped before walking away from him, without looking at his reaction.

You made yourself a drink before going back out, filling a plastic cup with vodka and peach tea. As you took a sip you realized the drink was almost all vodka, the faint peach flavor completely covered. You sighed, who cared anyway.

You plopped on a chair in between of your friends. They were laughing and talking about some old story. You swallowed the sadness that was clouding up your eyes, looking at the flames moving slowly in an hypnotizing dance. You could feel your legs getting warmer and weaker as the alcohol started circling in your system. 

You lighted up a cigarette, to help the alcohol work, and as you lifted your gaze to watch the people on the backyard you spotted him. On that couch on the grass, slouched on the cushions, getting stoned with his friends. 

Your breath hitched. For how long was he there? Did he see you? Did his friends knew about you? You took a long drag, your eyes glued on him. He was wearing an old loose sweater, the sleeves stretched out on his hands, baggy jeans, and a pair of beaten up sneakers.

He looked incredibly hot. And he noticed you. Your heart skipped a bit as you watched his gaze wander on your figure. You looked away, then looked at him again, your eyes meeting. He took a drag of his joint before passing it to his friend and standing up.

You didn’t need him to do anything else. You said to your friends that you needed to go to the bathroom and you stood up too, realizing in that moment that the alcohol was starting getting up to you. You felt slightly light headed and your legs were weak.

You stabilized yourself before you started walking towards Remus, following him. You followed him inside, navigating through the sweaty bodies of teenagers dancing and drinking. He then went outside again, to a less crowded part of the backyard, far from the pool and the patio. There were a couple of trees and a kids’ trampoline. 

The music was muffled in that area of the backyard, an old summer hit was playing in the distance, you could faintly hear some people singing along inside, or maybe on the other side of the backyard. 

Remus was leaning on a tree lighting up a cigarette. You went up to him “hey” “hi” “Can I have a hit?” He passed the cigarette to you “what’s up” he shrugged, his eyes were red for the weed “fine I guess” you nodded slowly “how long have you been here?” “Not much, you?” “Yeah, me neither”.

You passed the cigarette back to him, searching for something to say “I saw you actually” he said while smoking, not looking at you “you did?” he nodded “yeah, you were with your ex” your heart fell to your stomach.

“I thought you hated him or something” he said “I do hate him” “yeah? You two seemed pretty close when I saw you” you sighed, you had the worst luck ever. “No, I was just trying to get him to leave me alone actually” Remus looked up at you “you was?”

You nodded “yeah, he’s clingy all of a sudden and won’t let me live in peace apparently” Remus nodded slowly “so that’s why you were taking shots with him?” “Yeah, actually, so then he would leave me alone” Remus took another drag and shrugged.

“Yeah, okay, I kinda figured that it was something like that” you smiled “you did huh?” “Actually yeah” he said taking the last drag of his cig “right” you couldn’t help but smile, amused by his interest in you. 

“Do you wanna get high or you’d prefer getting more shots of cheap alcohol?” you smiled from ear to ear “let’s get high” he grinned “that’s what I thought” he said before throwing away the cig and climbing the trampoline stairs.

“What are you doing?” “This is the best spot in this house, don’t you know?” Remus said taking off his sneakers and getting on the trampoline. You shook your head in amusement, climbing to the stairs “you may want to take your shoes off” you smiled and started untying your boots.

You finally got on the trampoline. Remus was laying on his back, you did the same and laied down next to him. Your arms slightly touching. You felt safe in there. The trampoline was surrounded by a net, making the sky the only visible thing from that angle.

Remus opened his pack of cigarettes and he pulled a pre-rolled joint out. “When I rolled this I had you in mind” you couldn’t help but smile “you did?” “Yeah, I was actually hoping I would have a smoke with some cool girl tonight” you blushed violently. Your heart beating faster.

“It’s so cozy in here” you said, trying to change the subject. “Yeah, it’s the best place in this house, I told you” he responded lighting up the spliff. “How  did you know?” he shrugged “I spent here a lot of Friday nights” “you did?” “Yeah, I needed to get that bag you know” you laughed.

“So I’m interfering with the business or something?” Remus took a long drag “no, it’s fine, my boys got me” “oh, so they cover your shift at every party while you hit on girls?” You teased,  Remus laughed “I never hit on girls, especially at parties” “mhh, right” “I swear, I’m very business focused!”

“So I am interfering” he shrugged “yeah, I guess, but I can make an exception for you.” You smiled, your cheeks burning. Your legs were getting closer to his, your knees were touching. You could feel the excitement growing.

“So, how was this week?” He asked taking another drag “fine, kinda boring” “no shit, you hang out with lames” you smile “come on, they’re not lames, they’re just…different from me” “yeah, right” he said passing the joint to you.

You already felt light-headed for the alcohol, was it a good idea to also smoke? “Are you okay?” “Yeah, it’s just-maybe I shouldn’t, I already drank a bit” “it’s fine if you don’t want to” you shrugged “but I also want to get high with you”

Remus grinned “wait, we can try a thing” he said sitting up “what?” “Sit in front of me” you did, your eyes locking with his, they were half lidded, red, sleepy. They made him look hotter. “Come closer” you did so, your knees tangling together. 

“Closer” he repeated, his tone was warm and low, you did as he said, you were know extremely close, you could feel his breath on your lips. He took the longest drag, inhaling deeply.

Then he grasped at your chin and pressed your lips together. Your heart skipped a bit as you parted your lips further and Remus exhaled the smoke into your mouth. You inhaled, the smoke swirling down your throat, making your head immediately lighter.

“How was it?” Remus spoke softly, your lips still grazing his. You smiled “I think I’ll need another couple of hits to get high” Remus snickered, taking another long drag. He repeated the process, your lips getting wetter, your core getting warmer.

After some time the joint was practically finished, you were dazed and your brain felt fuzzy. Remus looked as high as you. You started making out, messily and sloppily, the smell of marijuana intoxicating you, Remus scent getting to your head.

He laid down, you got on top of him, your hipbones locking together. He looked up to you, smiling, his warm hands caressing your naked thighs “aren’t you cold?” You shrugged “not really” he kissed you 

“I’m lucky then” he whispered on your lips “cause I love groping these thighs” his hands brushed on your ass “and this ass” you felt the excitement pooling in your panties, you rolled your hips into his

He sucked the soft skin of your neck, kissing the plum colored bruises that were already forming. “I wanted to kill him” he mumbled suddenly “who?” You asked breathing heavily, your lips on his neck, your hands in his ashy blond locks.

“That asshole” he responded, his hands caressing your hips “when I saw him touching your lips” you blushed “it wasn’t- he hushed you up with another kiss “I’m the only one who can touch you” he said against your parted lips. You could feel your core getting warmer.

You leaned down to kiss him again, he squirmed away “no, say it” you sighed “say what” “that I’m the only one who can touch you” he whispered, his breath on your neck, your heart beating faster.

“Say it, come on” he mumbled on your lips, his hips bucking to meet yours, his erection pressing to your heated core. You started grinding on his lap, pressing your lips to his again. He gripped your hips, making you unable to move, you whined.

“You have to say it” he said, his hands on your hips, fidgeting with the hem of your skirt. “I would pay to see his face, if he ever knew that this loser gets to be the only one to touch you” You whined again, your hips trying to move, desperate for some friction.

“That his touch disgust you” he continued, his lips grazing the skin of your neck “and mine makes you melt” he said, his fingers sliding down your skirt, grazing your clothed core, the soft fabric of your panties completely soaked, you whimpered.

“If he knew, that I can make you so soaked for me, just by kissing you” he whispered, your thighs slightly squirming “say it, come on” you smiled  “I’ll say it, but then I’ll be the one who gets to touch you” you said, your hand palming at his erection teasingly.

Remus swallowed, his breath slightly shaking “alright, say it” you smiled, leaning down on his face, your mouth close to his ear. “You’re the only one who can touch me” you whispered softly, Remus inhaled deeply, closing his eyes.

You sat up. Your core on his lap. You palmed at his bulge, your hand reaching to unbuckle the belt. Remus whined “wait” you looked at him “Nobody ever…” you smiled “touched you? Yeah, nobody touched me either before you” he frowned in confusion “but with- “I only ever touched him, I wasn’t ready for him to…” Remus gaze softened, he bit his lip.

You unbuttoned his pants, teasing him, palming at his dick from his boxers. He whined. You smiled, and kissed him again. You started making out. Your tongues swirling together, your hand massaging his clothed length, the boxers sticky with precum.

He bucked his hips, you smiled on his lips. You moved his boxers down, his dick sprung out. It was big, swollen, the tip already leaking pre cum. You spread it on the head, Remus let out a loud whine, you smiled “shhh” you pressed your lips to his, your hand slowly going up and down his length.

Remus whimpered, you picked up the pace, your core growing impossibly warmer and wetter, humping remus' lap. You rolled your hips on him while pumping your hand up and down his length.

You started sucking Remus neck, while he moaned softly with pleasure. “Oh my god” he whispered, his voice shaky. His eyes were closed shut, he whined. You started going faster, as you could feel yourself getting more and more aroused.

Remus opened his eyes, looking at you rolling your hips, a moan escaping from your lips, he grinned, his shaky fingers reaching your panties, pulling them to the side to maximize the friction on the rough fabric of his unbottoned jeans. You started moving faster, your hand pumping his length viciously. 

Remus moaned “wait, I’m gonna cum” he whined, you rolled your hips on him, feeling yourself getting closer too “Jesus- fuck! I’m gonna cum!” You smiled, as you felt yourself reaching the climax “you can cum, come on, cum for me” he grabbed your waist, his fingers pressing your soft skin.

He pulled yourself down, his lips pressing with yours, your tongues swirling together. “Fuck!” He whined, his hips bucking into yours. You felt your orgasm wash over you, and as you moaned on his lips you felt Remus body contract under yours in pleasure.

You sat up again, your legs shaky as you were still coming down from your high, you pumped two more times before Remus came with a loud whine, hot strings of warm cum leaking from his tip, covering your fingers.

You brought your hand to your mouth, licking your sticky fingers clean, Remus watched you with lust-filled eyes and burning cheeks, biting his lip hard “fuck” he whispered. You helped him tuck his dick in his boxers again, and then you kissed him softly.

You got off his lap and laied down next to him again. Laying your side, you watched his side profile, his chest going up and down fast, he was breathing heavenly, still shaken by the orgasm. You could feel some rap music playing in the background, some boys were drunkly screaming the lyrics. 

You sat up “we should go, my friends are probably looking for me” he snickered “are you gonna tell them that you did a handjob to the stoned loser they don’t like on the trampoline outside?” You smiled “come on, let’s go, you have some business to go back to” he laughed “right”

[dismalflo]

notes in the margins

Remus lupin x reader who are strangers until they're not ✩ 5.8k words

summary: You meet Remus at a party you'd rather not be at, and you think that's the end of it... until he manages to make his way into your life properly.

cw: strangers to friends to lovers, fluff, reader is quite lonely and a lil socially inept.

The house is packed with people, most of whom you’re unsure whether you care to know. The air reeks of smoke and cheap booze, and it feels like everyone is watching you. They can see it—the way you stand in the corner of the kitchen, awkward and alone, like you don’t belong. It doesn’t help that you’re staring at the liquid in your plastic cup as though it holds the answers to the universe.

As you study it, lost in thought, you come to the conclusion that you should leave. Go home. Back to your bed, where it’s safe. Keep your life the size of a box. Just as you're about to pull out your phone to text Maddison that you're heading out, a voice from your right startles you.

“The drinks are awful, aren’t they?”

You think he’s talking to someone else nearby, until the toes of a pair of converse step into view, and you look up—mostly because you’re worried you’re the punchline of some joke.

He’s smiling, but it’s not a mocking smile. It’s like he’s in on something you’re not.

“Want something better?” he asks, his gaze playful as he tilts his head, studying you like you’re some kind of puzzle.

“No, I’m fine, thanks,” you mutter, looking down at your hands as they nervously twist the cup. A quiet confusion settles in—you have no idea why he’s talking to you.

There’s a pause. A long one. You almost expect him to walk away, but instead, he shifts on his feet and seems to settle in. You look up, hoping he’s leaving because that means you can go home. But his smile has softened, and he rocks back and forth on the balls of his feet, an uncertainty creeping into his eyes.

“I’m sorry, but I feel like I know you from somewhere,” he says, voice low, as though he’s trying to piece something together.

You shrug, trying to play it off with a small, apologetic smile. “I think I just have one of those faces.”

“I’d disagree,” he says, a small quirk of his eyebrow.

There’s something in his voice that leaves you uncertain. Your life feels like it’s a never-ending loop of work and home, and you’d definitely remember meeting someone like him. Tall, nice, warm smile—it’s hard to forget. The uncertainty gnaws at you, and you start picking at the skin around your nails. But when you look up, you see his cheeks flush slightly, a shy, almost bashful look creeping in.

It’s you, isn’t it? You’re the one keeping this conversation stalled. But it’s hard, harder than it should be. You don’t know what to say, how to say it, without feeling like a socially awkward mess. And now that you're lost in your head, the words feel stuck.

“So, who do you know here?” His voice is soft, genuine, and he leans down just a little to make sure you can hear him.

“Huh?” It takes a moment for you to catch up, then you blink, trying to pull your thoughts back together. “Oh—nobody, really. Just a friend of a friend kind of thing.”

He nods, like he understands, and you do the same without thinking.

“That makes sense,” he says, his tone light but with a touch of exasperation. “Sirius invites everyone he knows. Every time.”

The way he says it, the affection in his voice, it’s clear he and Sirius are close. And for a split second, you feel a pang of envy. You don’t know them, but just the way he speaks about him, how it sounds, makes you long for something similar. Sure, you have Maddison, but she’s more of a sporadic presence, a friend you catch up with once every few months. The one time she invites you somewhere that's not a cafe, she ditches you before the night even starts. You can’t blame her. She’s always been like that.

Another awkward silence falls, but this time, you rush to fill it. You don’t want him to feel like you’re just standing there in silence.

“I came with Maddison,” you say, almost too quickly.

His smile widens. “Oh, I’ve met her. She’s nice.”

You let out a dry laugh. “She was. Until she left me two minutes after we got here.”

The words slip out before you can stop them, and he bursts into a loud laugh, his eyes lighting up. You freeze, worried he thinks you’re serious and mean, but before you can correct yourself, you scramble. “I didn’t mean it like that,” you say, voice a little too quick. “I mean, she didn’t—well, you know. She had her reasons.”

“It’s okay,” he’s still chuckling like your bluntness really tickled him. But you have the distinct feeling that you’ve somehow made a fool of yourself. It's that exact moment you decide you have to leave.

“I—uh, I need to get going,” you mutter, watching his expression falter just slightly before he nods. “I’ll see you around…” 

“Remus,” he adds, offering his name.

You give him yours in return, and then, without another word, you’re gone.

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

The next day is another loop of the same dull routine that drags on in an endless, gray haze. Home, bus, work. Last night was out of the ordinary. The hours blur, blending together like the monotony of an old, well-worn song. You drag yourself through it all, each step like trudging through mud. But at least, you’re away from the suffocating quiet of your apartment. At least you don’t have to stare at the same walls, the same empty corners, with nothing but your own thoughts for company.

You wait at the bus stop, shifting from one foot to the other. The sky is heavy with dark clouds that seem to threaten an impending downpour. The air is thick with the tension of rain that hasn’t quite arrived yet, and the chill seeps through your jacket. Eyes flicking up to the horizon, praying for some excitement, anything. Maybe the rain will come. At least that would be something.

But still, no bus.

The minutes stretch on in silence. You shuffle your feet, watching up and down the street. You can feel the weight of the sky above you, pressing down like it’s waiting for something to give.

“I knew I recognised you from somewhere.”

You freeze, heart catching in your throat. It takes a second to register the words, and you blink, turning toward the sound of the voice.

Remus.

The same guy from the party last night. His figure is tall and familiar as he walks casually down the path toward you, cigarette dangling loosely from his fingers. The soft glow of the ember flickers as he takes a drag, his eyes fixed on you with an expression of recognition, but also something else—something more curious than you'd expected.

“Remus?” you ask, not quite sure whether you're still dreaming or if the world really does work this way, where you run into people you barely know on the most random of days.

He grins at you, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Yeah, I didn’t think I’d run into you again so soon. Lovely to see you.”

Your stomach tightens at his words. You shift uncomfortably, looking anywhere but directly at him. The awkwardness from last night floods back, the way you were so sure he was going to walk away, leaving you alone in your own little corner of the world. And yet, here he is again, standing in front of you.

“I’m surprised you recognise me,” you admit, pulling your jacket tighter around yourself as a gust of wind picks up. “I wasn’t exactly the life of the party last night.” It feels a bit easier speaking to him in a place that you know. 

He chuckles softly, almost as if your self-deprecation amuses him. "Well, you were hard to miss, you know? There’s something about you," he trails off, his voice almost hesitant. Then, like he’s remembering something, he adds, “I wasn’t expecting to find you here, though.”

You can’t help but smile, even if his eyes locked on you feels exposing. "Yeah, me neither. I—uh, I take the bus home after work, so..."

“Ah,” Remus cuts you off, the look on his face suddenly shifting to something a little more serious. “The bus won’t be coming for a while. There’s been an accident up the road, a big one. You’re gonna be waiting here for ages.” he sounds apologetic, like he's really sorry he's the one telling you.

You sigh, processing the information, but your mind is too caught up in the reality of being stuck here longer than you wanted. The bus is never reliable, but this is a new level of inconvenience. You feel the familiar unease creep up your spine, the thought of the endless wait stretching before you like a dark tunnel with no light at the end.

“Great,” you mutter under your breath, staring at the pavement beneath your shoes. "Just what I need."

Remus watches you, his expression thoughtful. You feel his eyes on you for a moment too long, and it makes you shift again, the silence hanging heavy in the air between you. Your brain goes into autopilot, spiraling through scenarios—what if the bus never comes? What if you’re stuck here for hours? The thought of waiting outside, in the cold, with nothing but your thoughts for company, fills you with a strange mix of frustration and exhaustion.

Just as the anxiety begins to swell, Remus interrupts the chaos of your spiraling thoughts.

“You hungry?”

You blink up at him, thrown off guard by the sudden question. Hunger. Right. You hadn’t really thought about food until now, but when you do, it’s like your stomach growls on cue. You’re always hungry, but especially now, when your brain feels like it might short-circuit from the sheer amount of time you’ve spent just...waiting.

“Yeah,” you admit, a little embarrassed by how eager the word slips out. "I’m starving, actually."

He gives a simple nod, gesturing for you to follow him. Without thinking twice, you do.

And that’s how you end up across from Remus in a cramped booth, your knees brushing beneath the table as you dig into a burger and fries, the world outside the booth fading into the background.

As you bite into your burger, the warm grease and salt doing wonders for your hunger, you notice how easy it feels to sit across from Remus. The bus stop seems like a distant memory, replaced by the low hum of the diner and his easy going nature. It’s a strange thing, how someone can just slide into your world like that, without any pretence or pressure.

“You know,” Remus says between bites, his voice a little quieter than before, “I come here pretty often. The owner’s been giving me free refills on the coffee since I was sixteen.” He gives a shy, almost embarrassed smile, but there’s a glint of pride in his eyes.

“Free coffee, huh?” you joke, grinning, “So you’re basically royalty around here.”

He laughs, but there’s a trace of humility behind it. “I don’t know about that. I think I was probably quite annoying back then, or at least James and Sirius were. Most of the time I’m reading and writing here.” He looks down at his burger for a second, as though the words aren’t quite meant to leave his lips.

“Oh, you write?” you ask, leaning in slightly, curiosity piqued. You can’t help but wonder what kind of stories this guy has locked away.

He nods, still not meeting your gaze. “I, uh, yeah. It’s nothing serious though,” he quickly adds, as if he’s embarrassed by the idea of someone knowing. “Just something I’ve been working on for a while.”

You tilt your head, eyeing him with interest. “What do you write about? I feel like I'm always reading different stuff.” you remember yourself after, looking down as you add, “You don't have to tell me.”

Remus squirms a little in his seat, and his gaze flickers away. You can tell he’s hesitating, like he’s unsure whether he wants to share or not. It makes you even more curious.

“It’s, um, kind of a mix of fantasy and... I don’t know... life stuff. Nothing too exciting,” he says quickly, sounding almost apologetic, but there’s a subtle spark of passion in his voice when he talks about it. "I just... I guess I like to write things that feel real, even if they’re set in a world that isn’t. Does that make sense?"

You smile, the feeling of him letting you in on a piece of his world not lost on you. “It makes perfect sense,” you say, your voice soft, appreciative. “That sounds amazing. You should be proud of it.”

Remus looks a little taken aback, but a small, shy smile tugs at the corner of his lips. “Yeah, well... I’m still working on it. Not ready to share it with anyone just yet.”

You nod, understanding. There’s something vulnerable about sharing your work, even with the people you trust most. “I get that,” you say. 

For a while, you both sit in comfortable silence, your shared laughter from earlier still hanging in the air. It’s strange, but for the first time in a long time, you feel like you’re not just passing time. You’re actually existing in the moment, and Remus is there with you, filling the space with his easy charm and the subtle way he listens to you without judgment.

“So, what about you?” he asks after a beat, his voice steady, as though the shift in conversation is natural. “What’s your story? What do you do?”

It’s an innocent enough question, but somehow, it feels heavier than it should. You feel a little vulnerable suddenly, how do you compare to him? But instead of feeling pressure, you find yourself wanting to answer, to let him see more of you. You shrug, trying to play it cool. “Not much. I work in retail—pretty boring stuff, honestly.”

Remus raises an eyebrow. “Retail, huh? That doesn’t sound boring.”

You laugh softly, then take a sip of your drink. “Well, I guess it’s not boring so much as it is... repetitive? But, yeah, nothing as exciting as writing a book.”

His smile widens a bit at that, and for a brief moment, you feel like you’ve managed to take down some of the walls between you. But just as quickly, the conversation stalls, and you both find yourselves lost in the simplicity of each other’s company.

“I’m glad we ran into each other today,” you say suddenly, the thought slipping out before you can filter it. “It’s nice, you know, having someone to talk to for a change… and i'm sorry for being weird at that party last night.”

Remus looks at you as he nudges your knee under the table, his expression softer now, more open. “It’s alright, it was all a bit overwhelming.”

After a pause, Remus picks up his phone, glancing at it before looking back at you. “Hey, uh, I was thinking... Since we both end up here a lot, maybe we could hang out sometime? Like, outside of weird bus stop encounters.” His voice is tentative, like he’s worried you might decline, but the way his eyes meet yours, hopeful but unsure, makes your heart do a small flip.

You’re caught off guard by the suggestion. Hang out? With him? You hadn’t even realised how much you wanted something like that until now.

“Yeah, sure,” you say before you even really process the words. You can’t help but smile a little at the thought. “That sounds nice.”

A look of relief passes over his face, and he pulls his phone out, his fingers tapping quickly as he hands it over. “Great. Here, give me your number, and we’ll figure something out.”

You type your number in quickly, your fingers moving almost on their own. When you hand the phone back to him, there’s a flicker of something between you.

Remus grins, his eyes warm as he tucks the phone away. “I’ll text you soon. It’ll be nice to actually get to know you, you know? Be more...comfortable.”

You laugh, feeling some weight lift from your chest. “Yeah. I think we can manage that.”

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

When Remus said he’d text you soon, you expected it to be about a week—or, honestly, you figured he might never reach out at all. So when you woke up the next day to a text from him asking if you wanted to grab coffee, shocked didn’t even begin to cover it. But of course, you said yes, and now you’ve been meeting up a couple of times a week, sipping coffee and slowly getting to know each other.

There’s a simplicity in talking to Remus that you’ve never quite experienced before. He’s always checking in to make sure you’re comfortable, that you’re enjoying yourself. It feels effortless. He feels effortless. The only moment that’s thrown you off was one evening when he asked what kind of books you liked to read over the phone. You told him, and his response was just, "Okay, great. Talk to you later," before hanging up. It left you with more questions than answers still looking forward to the next time you get to see him.

The coffee shop smells of roasted beans and fresh pastries, the comforting hum of conversation blending with the soft clink of ceramic cups. You slide into the booth, trying to shake off the lingering chill of the walk over, your fingers curling around the warm cup in front of you. It’s a Saturday morning, and the light filtering through the windows has a gentle quality to it that makes everything feel calm and still.

Remus arrives just moments later, a little breathless, but with that familiar easy smile that you’ve grown to look forward to. He orders his usual—black coffee, nothing fancy—and slides into the seat across from you. There’s a small, almost shy smile playing at the corners of his lips as he sets down a small, worn book on the table between you.

You blink at it, glancing up at him. “What’s this?” you ask, your eyebrows knitting together in curiosity.

Remus looks down at the book, then up at you, his cheeks flushing slightly as he rubs the back of his neck. It’s not like him to be this nervous, but the way he avoids your gaze for a moment makes you wonder if he’s second-guessing himself. He clears his throat, still looking at the book with a mixture of nervousness and excitement.

“It’s... a book I thought you might like,” he says quietly, his voice hesitant, as if he’s unsure of your reaction. “That's why I- uh, why I asked the other night.”

Your fingers hover over the book’s cover, the title printed in elegant, curling letters. A title that immediately pulls you in, the kind of thing you’d never pick out on your own but might really enjoy. You glance back up at Remus, noting the soft blush on his cheeks. The vulnerability in his actions surprises you.

“I—thank you,” you say softly, your heart squeezing in a way you hadn’t expected. There’s something about the way he’s looking at you now, his eyes shy but hopeful, like this small gesture means so much to him. “I’ll definitely read it.”

He relaxes a little, his smile widening. “I’m glad. I thought... Well, it’s not exactly the most popular book or anything, but I figured it might speak to you. And if you don’t like it, I’m sorry.”

You shake your head, already flipping the book over in your hands, feeling the weight of it, the smoothness of the cover. “I’m sure I’ll love it.”

The conversation moves on from there, the usual topics filling the gaps—work, the weather, the books you’ve been reading—but it feels different this time. There’s a new layer to the connection between you two, something unspoken, something that feels important but can’t quite be named yet. The coffee passes in a haze of easy conversation and laughter, and by the time you both get up to leave, you feel a strange sense of contentment—like the world is, for a moment, just right.

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

Later that evening, you’re curled up in your favourite armchair, the soft light of your reading lamp illuminating the pages. The book feels comforting, a little like a friend you didn’t know you needed. You make it through the first pages chapters, quickly absorbed in the world it creates, and then, as your eyes scan the margins, you pause.

In the very first chapter, there’s a note scrawled in neat handwriting:

“This reminds me of you. You get lost in your thoughts the same way she does.”

A small smile tugs at the corners of your mouth, but you’re already turning to the next page, not thinking much of it. But as you keep reading, the notes continue, each one more personal than the last.

He's put a box around a passage that talks about someone new becoming sunshine in one of the characters lives. Next to it he's written: you.

You pause, fingers trembling slightly as you turn to the next page. And then there’s another one:

“This part just made me think of you, that you’d like it.”

It clicks suddenly like an epiphany that you really, really like him.

The tears catch you by surprise. You hadn’t expected to feel this... moved. This seen. It’s like Remus has captured pieces of you in these notes—things you never said, things you didn’t even realize were there. He’s taken something as simple as a book and turned it into a way for you to see yourself through his eyes, as if he’s been quietly paying attention, noticing things about you you hadn’t even noticed in yourself.

Before you can stop it, your tears spill over, and you grab your phone, feeling the need to reach out to him. You hit his contact, your fingers shaking as you press the call button. It rings twice before he picks up.

“Hello?” His voice sounds a little surprised, but it’s warm, comforting.

“I—Remus, I just—” You can’t even finish the sentence, the tears turning into a full-on sob.

“What’s going on? Are you okay?” he questions gently but there’s a tinge of panic in his voice. “Do you need me to come get you?”

You wipe your eyes, trying to regain some composure, but the emotion is too raw. “I’m fine. It’s just... I don’t know. I didn’t realize how much it would mean to me, and now... I just wanted to say thank you. For the book. For everything.”

He lets out a big sigh of relief. “That's okay, you’re welcome, dove.” 

“Thank you,” you whisper, barely able to say the words without breaking down again. “Thank you so much.”

“I’m really glad you liked it,” he replies softly, his voice warm with sincerity. “Really.”

You hesitate, wondering if this is the right moment. Part of you is almost certain that he feels the same way you do, especially after what’s just happened. But another part of you worries—what if you’re reading him wrong? What if you’ve misinterpreted everything?

“Would you…” you begin, unsure, “Would you like to come over for dinner tomorrow night? We could get takeaway, or... anything you want?”

There’s a soft chuckle on the other end of the line. “Yeah,” he says, his voice filled with affection. “I’d love that.”

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

You pace around your flat, your eyes darting to the clock on the wall. It’s almost time for Remus to arrive, and you’re certain your stomach is doing somersaults. Why does this feel so much more important than it probably is? It’s just dinner, right? Yet, everything feels magnified. The messiness of your living room seems somehow ten times worse, and the familiar clutter of books, mismatched furniture, and the remnants of your life in its chaos feels more glaring than usual. You straighten up a few things, putting cushions back in place on the couch, smoothing down the edges of the blanket. You pick up a few dishes that you’d left out earlier, trying to make the place look somewhat presentable, even though you know Remus won’t care.

You glance in the mirror, adjusting your hair for the hundredth time, frowning as you tug at the collar of your jumper. It’s nothing fancy. A comfortable knit, a bit oversized, something you know you feel good in. But suddenly, you feel self-conscious, like it’s not enough. What if he doesn’t think you’re pretty? What if you don’t look good enough? You shake the thoughts away. This is ridiculous. You’re being ridiculous. Remus isn’t like that. He’s told you many times that you look pretty even when you’ve just been in your uniform straight out of work.

You make a mental note to stop overthinking, but your nerves don’t seem to want to cooperate. A quick glance at the clock tells you that he’ll be here any minute, and you’re still unsure whether you’re prepared for what might happen tonight. You know you’re about to open up, to tell him something that has been building inside you for weeks now. You can’t stop thinking about the way he makes you feel, how effortlessly he fits into your life. You’re nervous, terrified, but also strangely excited. You want to know if he feels the same way, even if the answer might hurt.

Your phone buzzes, startling you. You pick it up to see a message from Remus: On my way! Can’t wait to see you.

You smile at the text, feeling a wave of warmth settle over your nerves. You try to calm your breath, reminding yourself that this is just Remus—someone who’s become a friend. Someone who’s been kind and patient, and who might just be more than that.

A knock on the door jolts you from your thoughts. You take a deep breath, mentally bracing yourself, and open it to find Remus standing there, looking exactly like himself—tall, with a soft smile that sends a flutter to your chest. He’s holding a small bouquet of flowers, which he quickly extends toward you.

“For you,” he says, his voice low and warm, his smile a little shy.

You feel your cheeks flush at the gesture, the simple thoughtfulness of it. “Thank you,” you say, taking the flowers and feeling an odd sense of gratitude fill you. They’re beautiful. You’re not sure if this is just Remus being Remus or if it means something more, but the sincerity in his eyes makes you feel seen.

“They’re lovely,” you add, feeling a little shy as you take them to put in a vase on the kitchen counter.

“You look lovely too, by the way,” Remus says, his voice just a bit too quiet. He clears his throat and looks at you a little sheepishly. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to make it weird. I just—yeah. You look great.”

You blink, feeling the heat of his compliment spread through you. “Thanks, Remus. You look... nice too,” you stutter, wishing the ground would open up and swallow you whole for being so awkward.

He laughs softly, clearly understanding how the moment is making you feel, but there's no mockery in his tone—just affection. "Thank you."

The two of you settle into the couch, the awkwardness slowly dissipating as you begin ordering food. The simple act of choosing what to eat feels grounding, like it’s a small step toward normalcy. You both decide on pizza—something familiar, easy, and comforting. As you wait for it to arrive, you talk about the usual things. But your mind keeps drifting to the real reason why you invited him here.

You can feel it now, the weight of the conversation you need to have hanging in the air between you two. You feel restless, like there’s something inside you just waiting to burst free.

The pizza arrives, the conversation shifts, and you sit together, eating in the cozy comfort of your living room. Yet, even as you laugh and share stories, your heart is pounding. You know it’s coming. You know you have to say it.

“Remus,” you begin hesitantly, your voice catching in your throat as you look at him. “I... I wanted to tell you something.”

He glances up from his slice of pizza, a curious, open expression on his face. “Yeah? What’s up?”

You swallow hard, trying to calm the nervous flutters in your stomach. Your fingers trace the edge of your pizza box, too aware of the weight of the moment. “I... I think I like you, Remus.” The words rush out before you can stop them, and you quickly add, “I mean, I like you more than just as a friend. And... I don’t know. I just thought I should tell you. It’s okay if you don’t feel the same, I just... thought I should say it.”

You rush the last part out, your face flushing deeply, your heart hammering in your chest as you stare at your hands. You can’t even look him in the eye, afraid of what you might see—or worse, what he might not say.

The silence that follows feels endless. Your mind races through worst-case scenarios: What if he doesn’t feel the same way? What if you just ruined everything? What if he laughs, or worse, gets awkward?

But then you hear him clear his throat. When you finally dare to look at him, Remus is watching you with wide, warm eyes. His lips curl into a soft, genuine smile, and for a second, the anxiety that had been gripping your chest eases just a little.

“I feel the same way.” he says softly, his voice barely above a whisper. 

"you- you do?"

He nods, his smile growing just a little. “Yeah, I do. I’ve been... kind of terrified to say it, honestly. But... I like you, too. More than just a friend.”

Relief floods through you, and before you can stop it, a giddy smile spreads across your face. "Oh my god," you breathe, unable to keep the laugh from escaping. "I thought I was going to die just now."

Remus chuckles softly, a quiet, knowing sound that makes your heart race a little faster. He leans in a bit closer, his expression softening, and you feel an electric pulse between you two. The air around you seems to shift, becoming thick with everything unsaid, everything you both now understand.

"You don’t have to be nervous," he says, his voice low but warm. "I promise I’m not going anywhere."

You smile shyly, the tension in your body easing, but the words don’t quite come out right. Instead, you take a deep breath, your eyes locked with his. You’ve already told him how you feel, and the vulnerability is still there, but now it’s accompanied by a quiet kind of hope

Remus reaches out slowly, almost hesitantly, as if he’s testing the waters. His fingers brush against yours lightly, sending a wave of warmth through your skin. You glance at his hand, then back up at him. His gaze is tender, searching yours for permission. There’s a slight hesitation, but it’s not strange—just... careful.

"Can I?" he asks, his voice just barely audible.

Your heart skips a beat. You nod, almost imperceptibly, too caught up in the moment to speak. The room feels smaller now, the space between you two shrinking with every passing second. Remus' hand moves a little closer, his thumb brushing over your knuckles, before he gently pulls your hand into his.

The warmth of his hand in yours feels like everything you’ve been waiting for, and you can’t help but smile softly. And then, without thinking, your thumb traces the edge of his hand, a quiet way of saying you're okay, you're safe. You can feel him relax in response, the tension in his shoulders melting as he inches even closer.

You can feel your heart pounding in your chest, the anticipation growing as you both lean in, inch by tentative inch. The moment feels suspended in time. You close your eyes, a soft laugh bubbling up from you as you let out a nervous sigh.

"Remus," you whisper, barely a breath.

He stops, his face inches from yours, his eyes searching yours with that same softness, that same quiet intensity. The world outside seems to disappear. The sound of your breath and the beating of your hearts are all you can focus on.

Then, it happens. He leans in, his lips barely brushing against yours at first. It’s tentative, soft, like a question. Your breath hitches in your throat, and for a moment, you’re sure time has stopped. His lips are warm, gentle, and the kiss feels like the answer to everything you’ve been waiting for. You feel lightheaded with it—like everything in the world has finally made sense, like this is right, and maybe it always was.

A small giggle escapes you both, just a tiny, nervous sound, and Remus pulls back a fraction, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "I’ve wanted to do that for a while," he admits, his voice hushed.

You smile, feeling the warmth of the moment flooding through you. "Me too."

And then, without another word, you close the small gap between you again. This time, the kiss is deeper, more certain, though still gentle. His lips press against yours with a sweet intensity, like he's savoring it, savoring you. Your fingers move instinctively to the back of his neck, pulling him closer as his hand cups your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly across your skin. Everything feels soft, tender—a slow, steady rhythm between you that’s almost perfect in its simplicity.

The kiss deepens, just enough to make your pulse race, but it still carries that same sweet, careful energy, like you're both savoring each second of it. It’s a slow kind of magic, the kind that makes your heart feel full and light all at once.

When you finally pull away, breathless and a little dazed, you rest your forehead against his, your noses brushing lightly. The laughter that had been bubbling inside you finally spills out, soft and giddy, and Remus chuckles with you, his fingers still gently brushing through your hair.

“You okay?” he asks, his voice barely a whisper.

You nod, smiling wider than you ever thought possible. “Yeah. More than okay.”

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

let me know what you think of this! <3

[duhhpadfoot]

Frustratingly Ours

poly!marauders + lily x reader | Remus centered | Academic Rivals

A/N: Okay so I've decided to say fuck it and post the version of this fic I originally had planned, because why not put more pressure on myself? I'll update both versions. this first part has really minor changes to frustratingly yours

[2.4k words]

CW: discussion of acceptance and discovering ones sexual orientation, childhood acquaintences to academic rivals to...lovers, cursing, it'll be a reaaal slowburn, rem and reader at each others throat, remus might seem a bit ooc but you'll understand why, remus centered story

stunning witchy dividers by @saradika-graphics

Part 2 (to come)

Remus liked to believe he enjoyed keeping his head down, ignoring the fact that he himself was a part of the infamous marauders and did participate in pranks from time-to-time. Along with the fact that he was dating said marauders and a fiery redheaded girl, he still liked to believe he kept out of trouble (for the most part and the right reasons). He liked to believe it, it didn't mean it was the truth. If someone asked him to describe some of his traits, he'd be certain to tell them he was a calm and… a somewhat responsible guy, definitely not the first one to lose his temper. He liked to think he was above childish provocations. Unlike his boyfriends.

He laughed at Sirius and James' antics, despite being the butt of the joke. Patiently listened to Lily's rants. Explained coursework to his fellow classmates even when it seemed like the most mind numbing of subjects. And was always the last one to raise his voice during discussions. 

Now if someone were to ask him to describe himself after interacting with you?

He'd answer the same. Because, well, he was a prideful lion was he not?

And then those around him would raise their eyebrows in utter bewilderment. 

You were the only one who made him feel like he was a breath away from self admitting himself into St. Mungo's. The one who made him raise his voice at the littlest things, resort to childish antics and drive Lily mad with his rants about you. 

Y/N Y/LN.

His lovers' best friend and lately, much to his grumbling, their crush. And his —he'd never admit this to her, give her the dignity of acknowledging her as someone respectable enough to be competing with him— academic rival. 

Yes, Lily sometimes did get better scores than they both did. James got the handle on a charm quicker than anybody in his house. And Sirius did achieve O's on his schoolwork without much effort. 

But that did not matter because they weren't you. The one who plagued his mind. Whose name was always on the tip of his tongue.

He was proud of them, encouraged them and commemorated them. 

The same could not be said about you. 

You were friends during your first year at Hogwarts… and then things got to the point in which they were now.

"I did not cheat!" You whisper harshly across from one of the library's tables. 

A dark chuckle comes out from his lips as his eyes narrow to slits and focus on you. "I think I recall our Defence Against Dark Arts Professor rather clearly, we weren't supposed to use curses on one another."

The rest of your group don't even lift their heads from their work, as this is normal when it comes to you two. It became so common they could probably dedicate a time in their schedule for whenever you'd bicker, argue or shout at each other. It would be weird for a day to go by without some type of exchange between the two. "I'm glad to know your stupidity hasn't affected your memory loss seeing as our lesson was a couple of hours ago. And as I've said" You drawl lazily, although the tightening of your fingers around your quill betrays the way you actually feel "I didn't use curses." 

You hear more than see him scoff since you won't lift your head to meet his eyes. 

"I did not curse you, if you'd get your head out of your arse you'd have heard me when I said I created a—" Remus doesn't even blink at the aggression. "Also known as cheating." He sneers. "Or you're just barking mad and have great difficulty admitting that I'm better at duelling than you are."

That causes Sirius and James to abruptly stop their whispering and Lily to put down her book, all of them now tensely keeping their eyes on you both.

The banter was normal, once one of you mentioned you were better than the other at anything? Specifically a subject, an intellectual subject? All hell broke loose, there was no knowing where things would go. 

"Well of course, when one uses means that aren't following the rules then obviously it's much easier to defeat their opponent." "How many times am I supposed to tell you that I used a jinx that I've created?" Your voice finally starts to rise in volume. Really shocking that you've been able to control yourself for so long. "The same one you won't let me explain since you always end up interrupting-"

"I suppose until you admit that what you've done was against the rules." He raises his voice to meet yours in volume. 

The other three students' heads turn, following your banter as if they were watching a really intense quidditch match, not trying to diffuse the situation already knowing the outcome would be the same. 

"Shhh!" Madam Pince whispers fall on deaf ears as both of you only seem to get more and more agitated with your argument. 

"Just because I best you does not mean I cheated." "I'll remember that for future reference." "Please do! Are you finally admitting that you already expect me to win our next duels?" 

"Oh, please, this is embarrassing." He scoffs

"Okay, you know what, let's do a redo right now, and I'll be nice and not even use my jinx since you're so put off by it." You stand up abruptly, push your chair out, letting it topple to the floor in your haste to prove him wrong. Causing Madam Pince to yell in shock. "And will probably never be able to shield it." 

Remus barks out a condescending laugh, quickly standing up to meet you. "Yes. Let's." Escapes his gritted teeth.

James' eyes widen in shock that his boyfriend, his kind, collected and put together boyfriend, would actually pull out his wand in the middle of the library, his sacred place. Sirius just grins at the situation, even after years of this kind of interaction, still highly amused that two of the calmest people he knows could get so violent when together. "Remus, love—" Lily tries to reason. "Expelliarmus" He smugly says quickly as you were going off about something. Your wand flying across the table and into the palm of his waiting hand. 

"You were saying?" He lifts his eyebrow at you. 

You don't even think before hurling your tome right at his head. 

That's how two of Hogwarts' brightest were forbidden to study in the library at the same time. 

And how Remus ended up with a purple eye. 

McGonagall strides across the classroom returning her student's latest graded parchment. She could just use the locomoter spell to retrieve all of them at once, but Y/N along a few of her housemates suspect the professor enjoys the suspense. Some groan or silently cheer as they receive their work back, while others anxiously await for theirs. McGonagall hands Lily's with a small smile on her face. 

The witch beams at her parchment. The one that took her a while to put together and feels the need, the pride of showing it off to her loved ones. Wishing to be a part of a little healthy competition.

“I told you guys this was an easy subject.” She says smugly while showing off the O on the top corner of her parchment. 

“Well done love, congrats!” Remus murmurs half distractedly, pressing a quick peck to her lips, while keeping an eye as the Professor makes her way towards your side of the classroom. 

Lily, a bit miffed at the lack of competition or ambition, brags, a bit out of character, but still “I bet I've done better than you did.” “Wouldn't be surprised, a bright witch as yourself” Remus gives her a bright smile, the words weren't even out of his mouth when he turned his head back to the front, eyes already back to tracking their professor. 

Not getting the reaction she'd wished for, she heads toward the other witch always competing with her boyfriend when it comes to grades. Practically skipping towards you, she doesn’t even get the chance to come up with a remark as you already interrupt her with a blinding smile that normally would make her blush by being the focus of your attention. “Another O Lily?” “Yes.” The redhead huffs and her shoulders slump with disappointment, really not the reaction you'd expect from someone that just got the perfect grade on an assignment that took them some time to put together. 

“Congrats dove, wouldn't expect anything less from you.” Lily just turns around and goes back to her seat next to James, who squeezes her shoulders trying to hold back his laughter at the situation, but being betrayed by his shaking shoulders. Which only angers his girlfriend even more. 

Professor McGonagall (along with any other Hogwarts instructor) already knows what to expect from a certain pair of gryffindors, purposely dragging out their bickering and anxiety leaving their scrolls towards the end of the pile. 

Lily, Sirius and James all sit in attention along with the rest of the class - well except for you as you try to pretend you don't care what his grade might be -  as their professor hands out Remus' parchment back to him. 

He beams smugly, eyes immediately finding yours –which seem to have gone against your orders and fixed themselves towards the lanky boy –he simply rests his head on the palm of his hands and with the other hand, joins his index finger to his thumb, forming the circular shape of an “O”. Knowing you were watching, which just aggravates you more. McGonagall distributes a couple more parchments and finally (actually) heads towards you, already letting out a small sigh, knowing the chaos that might descend her classroom like a storm. 

Your knees won’t stop bouncing, I mean, of course you know you did well, you just hope you did better than he did. That’s all that really matters. 

The Professor returns your scroll, trying to hold back her smile. Your eyes quickly scan the parchment. Your entire posture shifts as if you were sitting on a throne and not an old squeaky chair. Remus shoulders already tensing, having come to learn your body language. And Lily rolls her eyes at the fact that you didn't even open your mouth and have already garnered a bigger reaction than she did with her arrogant words. You don't even need to try hard to make eye contact with Remus, already expecting his eyes to be on you, the same way yours were upon him. 

You know your scroll got less adjustments from the Transfiguration Professor than his did, having heard him (purposely and) loudly commenting to his lovers. Your mouth forms your well practised Remus irking condescending smirk, sprawled on your chair you lazily imitate his earlier actions, joining you index finger to your thumb. 

He huffs and rolls his eyes, while muttering a “Well played". 

Lily was watching the interaction like every other student and professor in their class, and against her wishes a small smile crept onto her face, she slightly shook her head, quite glad that either of you took her up on her teasing. This was your game, your competition, even if either of you would never verbally acknowledge it, you still acted upon it.  

She had always had a soft spot for you, the two of you had been inseparable since you'd sat at the same train compartment on your first trip to Hogwarts and later on placed in the same room. You'd heard her complain about James' teasing back in their second year, and later on about Sirius' and James' outrageously embarrassing advances. Which only got worse when she started developing a small crush on the tall and more reserved member of their friend group.

You'd helped her realise that it was okay for her to have feelings for more than one wizard at the same time. That if the three of them made her happy, then there was no reason she should be ashamed, especially if all of them were feeling the same way. And in the midst of all this, you'd been the one to make her realise that maybe she was attracted to witches as well. She thought back to both of your first kiss shared behind closed bed drapes late at night, her bed full of scattered Witch Weekly editions along with chocolate frog boxes and sticky fingers from your stock of hidden sweets, which you absolutely hate to share, but you'd pulled out just to help console her feelings about the boys.

You both were just trying to help each other out, that's what each of you convinced yourselves that night, full of giggling, sighing and pointing at famous wizards on magazines. You were one of the few witches she didn't mind being silly with and she was well aware you were attempting to lighten her mood a bit, distract her from all of her confusing feelings and anxieties.

After a few more minutes of horsing around, you'd just turned to her with a twinkle in your eye, like you couldn't settle with this being a night that she was already sure she'd never forget, you had to turn it into one that would change her life.

And suggested "let's just get it out of the way, see what the fuss is all about, this way you wouldn't have another worry added to the long list of things I have no doubt you've already created to obsess over, you know, with you being your rule abiding and dedicated self getting into a relationship with more than one bloke." All this with a toothy smile on your lips. She didn't even realise at the time that she was already leaning in, and she definitely wasn't expecting that she'd actually enjoy kissing her best friend. And understand what the fuss was all about.

You always fought her battles even when she said there was no need, you fitted right in with the marauders never missing a joke or the possibility of teasing one of them. You cheered for them and went out of your way to be there for them. You were always there for the people you cared for. You always tried to ensure people only saw the best version of yourself. She and her other two boyfriends couldn't help but fall for you. 

Remus had gotten much better with his insecurity, caused by his furry problem, but there were times that it still dominated the way he acted. Mostly keeping to himself, needing to prove that he was just as good as any wizard without his affliction, he sometimes took himself too seriously. You helped with that, you pushed him, made him lose some of the obsessive hold he had over having to control everything. Which somehow, just made you even more special to Lily. 

It saddened her, James and Sirius that the both of you couldn't see past this rivalry of yours that you'd obviously be a perfect addition to their group. Not that you already weren't a part of it, but romantically. 

So if this competition of yours made the two of you interact, come truly alive and lose the control that both of you tried so hard to prove to everyone that you had a handle on everything, she was happy. 

Maybe this would be the way that the both of you would finally stop being prats and would realise that Y/N was meant to be a part of their group. That you and Remus were destined to be together, to love each other and to push each other. 

It was so obvious this was all a farce for how you actually felt for one another. 

You guys were each other's drive to not settle. So she wouldn't get in the middle of this. 

A small smirk grows on her face as the both of you (predictably) fell into a small battle of wits. She nods to herself, now deciding she'd even help provoking her crush and boyfriend into these situations. It's not her fault this was the only way you'd interact for more than a couple of minutes. James, who was sitting on the desk besides her, was looking at her with an arched brow, recognising the scheming look on his lover's face. Which only made Lily smile more. 

She couldn't wait for when their well practised restraint finally snapped. 

A/N so this is my first fanfiction for the marauders fandom (along with frustratingly yours, but this was the version I was working on before). Feedback and comments are much appreciated :)

[crescenthistory]

It's Nice To Have A Friend

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Reader

Synopsis: Remus' childhood best friend is the only person he is comfortable showing unrestrained affection towards – until he one day gets in his own head about it.

Words: 14.4k

Warnings/tags: there are some suggestive remarks, brief references to "shagging" and implied underage drinking, but i would classify it as safe for minors! fem!reader, use of y/n, childhood best friends to lovers (thus you grew up in wales and use welsh terms, but you aren't said to be welsh), you are in ravenclaw (only for one plot point, not personality), platonic physical affection, romantic physical affection, kissing, "it was revealed to me in a dream" trope, some miscommunication trope, deep yearning, remus' pov (meaning loads of self-loathing and overthinking), panic attack-ish, remus cursing like a sailor and joking about jumping, kind of shy/reserved!remus, some angst, happy ending ofc, background jilypad

Note: phew this was intense but sosososo much fun to write. it is very much a fluffy fic tho, don't be worried<3 i fucking love this story/dynamic so much

a blurb about their happily ever after

It is an ill-kept secret that Remus John Lupin struggles with romantic public displays of affection.

It was something his best friends had teased him relentlessly for since the first time he was given a Valentine Day’s card in year two by a boy that he didn’t even have a crush on mind you, and became a stuttering, spluttering mess. He could still hear James and Sirius’ barks of laughter the second that Hufflepuff was out of view and could still feel the bench shake from when Peter fell off it, clutching his stomach. Remus had been sure his cheeks would be permanently dyed red from the shame.

His one friend who did not betray him in such a manner was his oldest, namely you. Remus’ sweetheart, as Sirius called you, his childhood best friend from back home who he broke the statute of secrecy for when he was too young to realise what that meant, but who thankfully turned out to be a witch too. Something you both wept tears of joy for, as you did not have to be separated when he went off to Hogwarts.

On that horrid day, you only pinched his darkening cheeks and laughed quietly – still teasing, but in a way that felt more like admiring and less like humiliating. He faintly remembers scrunching his nose at you in response, a look you immediately mirrored before you went to hide him in the crook of your neck and gave the others a faux scolding for “embarrassing poor Rem when he is wholly capable of doing so himself”. 

His makeshift pack of friends kept that routine up for the rest of his school years, consisting of James and Sirius poking constant fun, Peter enjoying it all a tad bit too much, and you “protecting” him while laughing all the same. His affliction only worsened throughout his time at Hogwarts, but if one of his afflictions were to be the butt of a joke, he supposed he was grateful it was this one.

In moments like these, it was a tad bit difficult to keep that sentiment up, though.

“You should have seen the look on his face, doll!” Sirius made out through a laugh as the group made their way back from Hogsmeade. 

He was recounting Remus’ dance on the Three Broomsticks dancefloor with one slightly-more-rowdy-than-normal Emmeline Vance who all but dragged him out there despite his quiet sputters. You had been off on some endless errands that Remus had passionately attempted to join you for before Sirius all but bolted him to the bench because “you owe me a round, you mangy wolf”.

“I believe I have seen it many a time, Siri,” you laughed out, yelping slightly when Remus pinched your side from where he had his arm around you. “Hey!” you scolded him half-heartedly, point diminished by your grin.

“Cheeky minx, don’t side with the devil!” Remus conspired with you through a stage-whisper while glaring at Sirius, whose laughter only doubled in intensity.

“You can’t ask me to lie for you, del,” you replied in the same tone of voice, leaning up to kiss his cheek as if to apologise for your treachery. An apology that was wholly accepted as Remus tugged you closer into his side and allowed for the laughter around him to continue with a sigh.

Because therein lies the one exception – Remus Lupin was pathetically incapable of public displays of affection, unless they were with you.

His problem with these displayals was the insinuation behind them and the attention that was brought to him because of it. If Emmeline dances with him, leaving a scandalously little amount of room between them, he knows what she wants from him and everyone else does, too. If his current romantic partner kisses him in the hallway, it is a glimpse into something that otherwise occurs behind closed doors, a reveal of his private life that he does not enjoy. He wants that part hidden, and embarrassment flares through him like a rocket at the thought that others bear witness to it – and then the flames are stoked when they notice that he knows and has enough dignity to be embarrassed, which just fuels an eternal evil cycle.

You, however – your wonderful self he has known all his life, you who refused to ever leave his side despite his lycanthropy and subsequent grumpy, isolationist persona, you who are his absolute better half and light of his life – there was no reason that affection should be hidden. There was nothing secretive nor fragile in your relationship, it was the purest thing he had ever had the pleasure of having.

There was nothing insinuative or blasphemous about it, there was nothing to be held against him. He would hold you, hug you, even kiss your shoulder, cheek and forehead, because he and all else around knew that it meant nothing more. It was nothing out of the norm, nothing for others to point out and bring attention to. There was no glance into something hidden away, there was no line being overstepped. It was just two best friends, aware and proud of how much they meant to one another.

So Remus never had any hesitations about leaning into your touch, about seeking yours out, about lips identifying exposed skin and staying there for a moment or two. It was something he began doing before he truly knew what embarrassment entailed, it was muscle memory as much as instinct these days.

And if others did not understand it fully, that was an issue Remus for once felt no confinement to public opinion on. If people made assumptions or threw glances, it held no importance to him. Even his Marauders, Sirius especially, raised their eyebrows at your proximity when you all first met, but they understood the routine of it all quickly. That these two first years before them were a package deal in every form of the word. It was quickly accepted within your little pack, albeit fondly commented on every now and again. James had Sirius in that same unrestrained way, bodies strewn across each other at any given opportunity, so why couldn’t Remus have you? Why wouldn’t he?

Never mind that Sirius was officially brought into James and Lily's relationship at the end of last term.

“Well, James would hug anything that moved and seemed like it might need it.” Sirius had argued one night many years ago, not needing to add the and I need it.

“And isn’t that lovely for Prongs,” Remus had drawled in return. “But I need a few years to get there, and Y/N happened to be more strategic than you lot.”

“By knowing you first?”

“Precisely. Also, she’s lovelier than you.” 

It had earned him a snort and a pillow to the face, but it was accepted without further questioning. With the exceptions only occurring in a drunken babble here and there from Sirius, alone in their dorm after a party. Remus is quite certain he couldn’t string together a coherent sentence if his life depended on it in those states, and so he never took it to heart.

Remus revelled in having something of his own, someone only he understood on that level, and his heart always warmed when he thought about how lucky he was that that someone was you.

He subconsciously pulled you even closer at that thought, content and comfortable to do so whether that be around his marauders or in front of the whole Great Hall; there was nothing more to it to be embarrassed of. It was just you; just Y/N and Remus. Like always.

“You occluding yourself away from your menace of a dorm mate?” you whispered to him then, and he angled his chin down slightly with a smile to find you looking at him curiously.

“Oh, yeah,” Remus agreed with a solemn nod. “Must prepare for being locked up in a room with him all night. It’s tedious work, you know?”

“Most certainly.” You attempted to match his faux severity, but a giggle escaped you nonetheless – a beautiful one that Remus decided to mentally save for the night, should Sirius become unbearable.

Speaking of; “I take great offence to that,” Sirius proclaimed from the few strides ahead he was, pointing his finger in Remus’ direction without turning around. “Dog-like hearing, Moony, don’t think you can get away with badmouthing me here!”

“Dog-like he says,” Remus whispered to you, earning him an indignant “oi!” as Sirius finally turned around.

“Gorgeous, would you tell your worse half to knock it off?”

“I sure will,” you declared, turning your body more towards Sirius in Remus’ grasp. “Siri, sweetheart, would you knock it off?”

Within the second, Sirius’ offended expression transformed into one of giddiness. “Awe, princess, you think of me as your other half?”

“Worse half, Pads,” James interjected, looking over his shoulder bemusedly.

“Do keep up,” Remus added with a half-hearted glare.

“Irrelevant!” Sirius threw his hands up and spun around in celebration. “I have won the title of her other half, you can get lost Moons.”

Remus used his arm around your shoulders to angle you back away from Sirius. “I think not. I’ve been keeping this friendship for so long, she’ll need a lawyer to get rid of me,” he stated matter-of-factly, looking down at you at the last bit. “Capiche?” He tilted his head at you.

You hummed through a poorly-withheld smile, as if you were considering it. “Sure thing, cariad. Meet with our lawyers tomorrow after lunch?”

Remus gasped as you ripped out of his grasp and stuck your tongue out at him. Flashbacks of your younger days chasing each other down dirt roads came to his mind and widened his grin as he saw you back away from him, eyes trained on his expression. 

“Minx,” he breathed out through a laugh just before you sat off running away from him; Remus hot on your heels, laughter escaping him freely. Sirius began running with you, though he was slowed as he twirled around and hollered, surely waking the entirety of the mountaintops surrounding the castle.

James had been minding his own business for once as he engaged in quiet conversation with Lily and Pandora, but his eyes twinkled as he eyed his three running friends, exchanging a knowing look with the redhead.

“Young love,” Pandora sighed dreamily, though James could never be certain if she was looking at the loud, carefree forms before them or at something entirely different.

Remus saw you stopped running while still some dozens of metres away from the castle, still facing away from him, but arms opening to accommodate for the impending crash of his body against yours. It does something funny to his heart to think about, but he just lets it widen his smile as he did exactly as expected – let his arms loop around your waist and twirl you around as he caught up to you. 

Your out-of-breath giggles permeated into his ears as his face was tucked in between your neck and shoulder as he slowed down, laughter calming in his own chest.

“Caught you,” he whispered through his own breathlessness. “Happy now?”

You turned in his grasp, squeezing at his shoulders both to show affection and seemingly to steady yourself as your chest still heaved; Remus held you tighter to help you in the latter endeavour. “Shook off Sirius for a bit, so yeah, I am. As should you be.”

He dropped his head laughing at that, glancing behind him through his hair to see Sirius bent over, hands on his knees as James had already caught up to him and was patting his back in sympathy. Any other time of the month, Remus would likely have been right there with him, but this was a good week and you always seemed to be able to find some semblance of energy within him, even if he thought he had none.

“I take back my calling you minx, then.” He looked at you with a smile. “That was strategic.”

“Are you saying minxes can’t be strategic, Loopy?” You raised your eyebrows at him teasingly, pulling slightly out of his grasp to breathe better.

“I’m saying– don’t call me Loopy.”

Your smile became almost taunting at that, and Remus knew his comment likely only worsened the likelihood of you using that nickname now. “I just remembered how I used to call you that the other day actually,” you mused, putting on an innocent smile. “I don’t remember why I stopped, I just forgot about it. I think it might be time for a renaissance.” 

“I think I’m too out of breath for you to say things like that. I can’t chase you any further, but that deserves to be chased.”

You shoved lightly at his shoulder at that. “You’re getting too old, you’re no fun.”

“I’m super fun. Textbook definition,” Remus harrumphed, gleaning when you rolled your eyes through a burst of laughter.

“No one who references textbook definitions is fun, Moons!” James called from where the group was catching up to you two, finally within earshot. 

Sirius was practically draped across James’ shoulder, breath still coming heavy. He pointed yet another accusatory finger, this time at you. “You’ll be the death of me, dollface. Merlin’s tits.”

“Don’t blame me for your own inadequacy, gorgeous,” you quipped back. It made Remus rather proud, especially when Sirius groaned dramatically in response.

“Time to get some beauty sleep then, yeah?” James coaxed, giving Sirius’ cheek a peck as he continued effortlessly dragging him in through the entrance of the castle.

Lily hummed in agreement, poking one of her boyfriends in the side. “Yeah, Sirius seems to need it.”

“You think I’m so sexy, Red, don’t lie to yourself,” Sirius mumbled, petulantly remaining worn out over James’ shoulders.

Remus smiled at his friends, hand reaching out behind him blindly, knowing you’d find it. Surely enough, your fingers intertwined with his own and gave him a little tug to hasten his gait down the hallways.

Moving up the staircases with surprisingly little trouble, the group finally found themselves outside the portrait of the Fat Lady, ready to split up with you and Pandora heading to Ravenclaw and the rest clambering inside. 

You made your goodbyes, quick hugs and kisses on cheeks with Lily and James and a kiss to the hand from Sirius who had decided to lay down dramatically on the floor. When you turned to Remus at last, just a tad bit away from the others, he enveloped you in a warm hug, breathing you in as he settled his chin on your shoulder.

“Let me walk you?” he asked, already knowing you would say no.

“Nice try Loopy, but I’d rather you go inside to the warmth and head to bed,” you murmured into his neck. “Thank you, though.”

You always said no. He always asked, anyway. Sometimes, if he was feeling particularly protective or otherwise missed you too much, he’d go with you anyway. Today he decided to respect your wishes.

“Tell me again why you had to be an independent person and get sorted into your own house?” he grumbled against you, smiling when he felt your chest rumbling beneath him. That same smile softened when your grip on him grew just the slightest bit tighter.

“Something tells me you’ll survive.” 

He tightened his hold on you in turn, one arm around your waist and the other stabilising your neck, before he spun your body around twice, twirling along the hallway. He relished in the laughter that escaped you and ensured to stamp a proper kiss to your hair before he released you back down to the floor.

“Sleep well, dove.”

“Goodnight, cariad,” you said through a soft smile, giving him and the others a small wave before turning around to where Pandora was waiting, grabbing her hand as you two all but skipped down the hallway together.

With his eyes still glued on your disappearing form, Remus nearly yelped as James’ hands came up to settle roughly on his shoulders – albeit somewhat careful of his joints – steering him through the now-opened portrait, who was rambling on with complaints about students taking up the space in front of her for too long.

“Funny that,” James started. 

Remus gave him a puzzled look. “What, Prongs?”

“Just that you danced with one Ravenclaw at the Three Broomsticks for two minutes and gained the colour and conversational skills of a tomato; but when you twirl and kiss this Ravenclaw, all you’re left with is that goofy grin of yours.” James’ comment seemed off-handed, said over his shoulder as they walked through the empty common room.

“First of all, it’s Y/N we’re talking about and not some Ravenclaw,” he started, confusion laced in his voice. In the meantime, James and Sirius kissed Lily goodbye, the latter giving her bum a light tap as she moved up the stairs to the girls’ dorms. “Secondly, it’s Y/N. She’s my best friend, and one of yours, mind you. What’s there to go all tomato for?”

“Some would argue, there is never any reason to go all tomato,” Sirius taunted, ducking the smack Remus aimed towards him.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” James laughed, literally waving it off. “Just pointing out the parallel. Ironic, innit?”

“Don’t see why it would be,” Remus grumbled petulantly in return. Sirius reached up to ruffle his hair somewhat roughly before entering their dorm, where Peter was already waiting for them, tucked into bed.

“What’re we laughing about tonight, fellas?” he questioned without looking up from the magazine he was reading through. Remus was fairly certain he had seen Mary reading through that very same magazine last week.

“Oh just at Remus’ peculiarities with birds.” Sirius felt emboldened with his comment from where he was crouched behind his bed – ample distance to protect him from Remus, he surely gathered.

“So, nothing new? Nice.” Peter returned his attention to the magazine it never really left.

“Yeah, don’t worry Pete – your friends are just as big arseholes as on any other day.” Remus bent down to pat the boy on the shoulder before moving over to his own bed, between Peter and Sirius’. 

“Hey, I don’t mean to be an arsehole,” James complained with almost a full pout across his lips within a second of Remus’ comment. “We’re just having a bit of fun psychoanalysing you, s’all.”

“Which, of course, is a generally accepted polite thing to do.” Remus nodded as if he was gravely understanding, only flipping James off when the other boy didn’t catch his sarcasm.

“No, Remmy, what would be rude is to point out how you are desperately–” Sirius began with taunting mirth plastered all over his face, but he was cut off as James all but jumped on him to cover his mouth. 

The black haired boy looked up at his boyfriend first with some offence and then a look Remus didn’t want to witness.

“How about we leave poor Moony alone for the night, huh baby?” James questioned, moving his hand away from Sirius’ mouth as the other boy nodded almost dumbly, still staring up at him.

“Who’s turning red now?” Remus whispered to himself as he looked through his trunk for his pyjamas. He barely had the reflexes to catch the pillow Sirius hurled at him, tossing it back with a loud laugh that was quickly reciprocated by his best mates.

As if a miracle had been awarded them by some forgiving gods, the boys’ dorm room quieted down fairly quickly after that. Sirius and James settled in Sirius’ bed for the night, barely fitting themselves onto the mattress that was almost too small for one boy, let alone two. Once in each other’s arms, however, it was an easy thing to drift off. Peter was asleep before the other three had even brushed their teeth.

Remus was the only one tossing. Not unusual, but he couldn’t really understand why that was tonight. 

His sleep cycle often closely followed the moon’s, and he was almost two weeks away from the full moon, a perfectly decent time for falling and staying asleep. Tonight, though, his body was once more fighting him. He kept replaying the night, the conversations, the interactions, trying to pin his unrest on something. He supposed that dance with Vance had been unexpected and the adrenaline spike of all the attention following it might still linger and make sleep evade him. 

Despite what his dismay for public romantic displays might indicate, Remus was no prude. As a matter of fact, just as Sirius had before he was locked down, Remus was no stranger to making his rounds at the occasional common room party. Rarer was it that he shagged anyone back home, as he spent most of his time with you, but it had happened here and there too. Vance and him had even spent a night together once at a quidditch afterparty, but he had no significant interest in her apart from a mutually understood night of fun. He never really did, even when his partners were great in all capacities. It just didn’t seem that romance was an object for Remus – and good riddance, if the struggles of dealing with it so far was any sign.

Perhaps that was it then, dancing with Vance had rehashed something for him. Though the idea didn’t settle well in his bones, Remus also knew that he would never settle if he didn’t give his mind an excuse for his sudden restlessness.

After checking the time with a hefty sigh, he decided to throw in the towel and took a small sip of a sleeping draught potion he had at the ready in his bedside table at all times. If sleep would not come to him, he would hunt it down damn it. His friends’ playful mockery and a dance he didn’t even want to partake in would not cause him any more torment.

As Remus slipped into the land of dreams, he may come to regret that sentiment, if but a bit.

There are warm bodies pressed uncomfortably close to him – the warmest of which has her arms around his neck, one hand scraping through his hair. It should feel good, Remus enjoys when his hair is played with, but this feels sharp enough to draw blood. Emmeline’s laugh is all he can make out over the chatter and stomping around him, but it feels wrong, scratchy like a record player. Her fingers on him are cold, unlike anything else in the room.

It is spinning. The room, that is. Remus is unfocused, as if he had been shooting vodka and not butterbeer earlier. He can’t quite make out any of his friends, or anyone really, Emmeline’s features bleeding out into the background.

For some reason his heart is pounding the way it does before his transformation. Everything feels painfully wrong and he is aware of every inch of his body where Emmeline is touching him.

She is still laughing and Remus is sure it would make his ears bleed, which only confuses him further because Emmeline is truly a nice girl. Just not one he wants to feel flush against himself at the moment.

He reaches a hand up to touch his ear – realising only now that his arms are hanging limply by his sides, the only static thing in the otherwise spinning room – and when he retracts his hand to look at it, his fingers are coated with blood.

His breathing grows ragged as he feels the blood running down the side of his neck. He has half a mind to tell Emmeline, to shout for help. He doesn’t. Nothing comes out when he tries to open his mouth, all control of his body ripped from his grasp.

With no warning he realises the wetness on his neck is not blood, but someone’s open mouth smearing kisses down it with reckless abandon. His stomach ties in knots and he wants to push Emmeline off of him, still to no avail.

Her grip on him tightens painfully, and Remus swears he feels a bone break. He would know.

The flurry behind her has just become a swirl of colours and sounds to him and Remus feels himself drowning in a moment he desperately wants away from. He shuts his eyes hard, taking deep breaths, trying to calm himself.

He feels a warmth in his chest, starkly different from the heat around him, that slowly, like thawing ice, begins to spread throughout him. He hums the melody you sang to him during his first ever panic attack, the sweet one that always lulls him to sleep, and the warmth spreads faster.

With his eyes still screwed shut, Remus begins to regain the feeling in his legs first, noticing them swaying back and forth to some calmer, unknown rhythm.

The feeling in his hand returns too, and it’s clasped around someone else's. Theirs is also warm, light and fits much better in his, though he’s not quite sure what he’s comparing it to.

The front of his body is warmer than the back as he’s pressed up against someone, swaying with them in a slow dance that would never have worked in the middle of Three Broomsticks. It flows with his soul.

At last, Remus can hear again, as if coming up from water. He hears that it was not him humming, but rather a soft figure tucked under his chin, humming the vibrations of the melody against the side of his neck.

When he tightens his arms instinctively, he does not need to open his eyes to know it is you.

He does anyway, looking down at you, standing in his arms, swaying together in an empty Gryffindor common room. There is a lazy smile on your lips as you look up at him, cheek against his chest, eyes twinkling like the starlight.

Remus feels right. Remus feels good. His thoughts are honey, sweet but slow, coating over any coherent reactions he might have to standing here with you like this. He escaped and he is with you and all is right once more.

Have you danced like this before? Did it feel like this then?

You seem unpuzzled, relaxed. The warmth settles in Remus for good.

“Hey handsome,” you whispered, as if you were sharing a secret with him before angling your face more up towards his.

Remus is not in charge of his body when his neck dips down and lets his lips meet yours halfway, casual and expectantly, a habit as much as a wish. You taste like yourself. You smell like yourself. Remus is surrounded by you, cornered by your smile against his lips.

You pull back all too quickly, furrowing your brows at him. Dream-Remus has no hesitation of removing the hand from around your back to thumb at the furrow, brushing away any negative thoughts from you. He kisses the spot between your eyebrows.

Everything is right.

When his eyes meet yours again, the concerned look in them has not changed. You reach a tentative hand up to his cheek, thumb swiping over his cheekbone as you hold him with what he irrevocably knows to be love. 

“It’s time to wake up, cariad,” you said with a small sad smile.

The last thing Remus remembers is the feeling of the floor disappearing beneath him.

Remus sat up with a gasp, and for a rare moment in time he was speechless.

He was not a stranger to invasive, questionable or downright spiritual dreams, a side effect of both his connection with the moon and the tons of potions he has taken over the years. Usually, he is present in his dreams and acts as his own little commentator during and after them, narrating what happens and what he thinks of it.

It was not uncommon for him to think “I think I will remember this one” as the final thought in a dream. Or when he wakes up in tears, his first thought was often “that was a bit dramatic of you, calm down”.

Now, he had nothing. Now, he was speechless.

Worse yet, usually when he wakes up with a jolt, it is in the middle of the night – but now, as his senses began to trickle back in, he could hear the commotion around him that only could mean the boys are at various stages in the process of getting ready.

Remus Lupin had just had a life-altering, earth-shattering dream, and James Fleamont Potter was repeatedly knocking his knee into his nightstand as he jumped around while tying his shoes on, instead of sitting down to do it like a normal person would.

He thought James was saying something, and maybe even to Remus specifically, but he could still hear the blood rushing through his head. Beneath that again, he could hear your humming. 

With a groan, Remus let himself topple over from his sitting position to land face-first into his duvet.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. What the fuck?

“Oi!” Remus finally heard, as what felt like a rolled up pair of socks hit his head. “What in Godrick’s name has gotten into you, mate? You good?” It was Sirius voice calling, seemingly from across the room.

Remus just groaned in reply. His eyes were wide open as he stared directly into his sheets, feeling both freezing cold and like his brain was slowed by a fever.

“You okay, Moons?” Peter’s voice came gentler from beside him. Remus thought his hand might be hovering near him, as if he was considering consolingly patting him but was unsure if he should.

Another groan.

“Okay, what about this: groan once if this is Moony mooning over something and twice if you’re in actual crisis,” James suggested, not unkindly.

A singular groan, though it sure did feel like two.

“Groan once if you’re a prick and twice if you’re insufferable,” Sirius felt the need to comment.

Instead of making any further sounds, Remus wrangled his arm from beneath the blanket to show Sirius how he felt about him in the moment with a gesture.

“Fantastic!” James exclaimed. “You have class in 35 minutes, Moons, and breakfast now, so best get a move on.” Remus heard the telltale sound of James leaving – as in, James’ heavy footsteps moving across the floor and Sirius scrambling like a dog to follow after him. At the complete lack of sounds in the rooms after that, he assumed Peter moused after them as well.

At last Remus sat up with a sigh and stared emptily in front of him, mind moving too fast for him to catch a thought but too slow for him to properly process anything.

What does this mean? 

Except Remus could no longer deny that he knew what it meant. That the instant your humming caressed his ears, he knew what it meant. That his subconsciousness wanted to replace a girl who saw him as a romantic prospect in a place Remus felt queasy in with you in a place he considered home. That is no coincidence.

And that when you kissed him–

Except you did not kiss him. Remus shook his head at that, as if the thoughts could just tumble out of his ears. You did not kiss him and he did not kiss you. Because this was a dream, it was not real and Remus must just be really, really unwell.

He felt unwell, but not in the way he was trying to convince himself.

Taking one deep breath, Remus looked to the awning of their little dormitory and shot out a silent prayer for any higher power to listen.

Put me back together, I cannot fall apart like this.

Bury this back down deep, I cannot feel like this.

It was going to be a long day.

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

By the time Remus had made it to the entryway to the Great Hall, feeling frazzled and less put together than he had an excuse to, he saw his group of friends making their way out.

“Rem!” It was you who caught sight of him first, and immediately beelined towards him, the others following closely behind, wearing varying degrees of concern and confusion as they looked him up and down.

Your face was by far the most concerned, as you immediately brought your left hand up to cup his cheek. “Are you alright, cariad?”

For the first time in your almost two decades of friendship, Remus was painfully aware of your physical proximity.

He always knew, of course, but it never really registered with him – it was completely natural. Right now, nothing about him felt natural. You stood flush with him and he felt you against him like a fire, skin singeing beneath his clothes. Your eyes seemed so big looking into his that he could get lost in them, his only internal monologue being a dreamy sigh and a long string of curse words at the absolute madhouse chaos that his mind was becoming. As he looked at you, it was like he could see his version of you from his dream as well, how you looked at him with so much love and admiration, how your lips inched closer to his.

“Mate?” Remus realised then, that he had been staring at you for far too long, not answering your question, to the point where James had to try to catch his attention.

“I– uh,” Remus sputtered, eyes flickering wildly all over your face, panic rising in his chest as he realised he could not think clearly with you so close.

He took a step back without thinking, just barely out of your grasp but still close, and shook his head. “Sorry, yeah, no, yes, I just feel a bit… off today.”

The furrow between your brows deepend, and once more his mind flashed back to his dream. His hand twitched. It seemed like you weren’t even aware of it when you took a step closer, to be back by his side, reaching your wrist up to place it on his forehead to feel his temperature. “You’re feeling poorly?” you whispered so quietly and so lovingly Remus thought he might faint.

Was it always like this? It was always like this. Why was he freaking out about it then? He was freaking out. What the fuck was wrong with him?

With horror, Remus realised that a slight blush was creeping up his neck, and he fought hell to keep it down as he cleared his throat. “Just a little, uh, dove, it’s nothing to worry about.”

“Do you want to go lay down?” You began what he knew would be a string of suggestions for things to do to make him feel better, and he could not stand watching you be so concerned when he was lying to you.

Almost like a flinch, he pulled back out of your arms – properly this time, taking several strides backwards away from the group. It barely registered with him that James and Sirius were looking at him with some confused amusement while Lily looked sympathetic.

“I, erm, will be fine, yeah? Nothing to worry about.” Without properly looking, he reached an arm out to grab Peter by the shoulder and all but manhandled him to his side. “Peter and I have Herbology now, but uh, I’ll catch you later?”

Remus hated how everything he said sounded like a question, like he was running a lie by you for you to confirm if it was believable. Remus hated that he couldn’t tear his gaze away from your face for more than a few seconds and most of all he hated that he was spiraling under the weight of your gaze in turn. A horrible combination.

“Take care, Rem,” you whispered as he all but ran away from you, hauling Peter along.

You stood looking after him for a moment, only turning your head when you felt Lily’s reassuring hand on your shoulder to find a small smile on her face.

“What in the buggering hell was that?” Sirius questioned, looking mostly at you for an answer.

“I don’t know,” you said, honestly. Had you known, you might still not have told him, though, if you thought Remus wouldn’t want you to. “I usually always know about his moods before they come, but this has me stumped,” you murmured, mostly to yourself.

“He woke up weirdly,” James mused, rubbing his hand across his chin. “I guess we’ll just see where the day goes, yeah?”

The four of you nodded at each other, but you still gnawed on your lip in concern, glancing over your shoulder to where he disappeared. 

Whatever it was, you hoped he would come talk with you about it when he was ready.

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

Remus only had one hour to compose himself during Herbology before he had Charms with you. Sharing most of his classes with you was something he had always considered a blessing, and while that sentiment would likely never fade, it was also causing him some distress as he almost toppled the work desk with his jittering.

Peter didn’t question him, but Remus’ obvious nerves were apparently contagious for the anxious boy who jittered right along with him, casting him the occasional glance.

Letting his elbows fall heavily on the desk, Remus put his head in his hands and ignored the instructions Professor Sprout was walking them through – he would let Peter pick up the slack for once and then subsequently accept the lower marks. Right now, Remus had to think and get his shit together.

He breathed his way through some panic exercises and pictured you in his mind. It almost brought a smile to his lips in an instant and for the first time, he let the realisation of how irrevocably wrecked for you he was.

Has it always been like this? Why have I never put this into words before? How can I revert back?

In that moment, Remus decided two things. Firstly, there was no possibility of you returning his feelings nor would he ever expect you to. It was true that you accepted and loved him in a way he never could quite believe himself deserving of, but that in itself is testament that it couldn’t be any more. What you gave him was already too much, it would be unthinkable for you to harbour even deeper feelings for him.

Second, and most importantly, he could not lose you. Remus has made many mistakes in his time, but he could not live with himself if he lost you. It would be too much. Because regardless of the fact that he now knew he was– that he now knew what he knew, the friendship between you was the most important thing. It was Remus and Y/N, right?

He could not be weird and sputtering, he could not make you uncomfortable. Meaning, he could not withdraw from you despite his instinct to run and hide. Shame burned within him at the thought that even if he could withdraw he didn’t know if he could fight his want not to. You were muscle memory.

Remus opened his eyes and slowly dragged his palms down his face in resolution. He would have to act as if nothing was wrong, and he would have to lie through his bloody teeth to explain away whatever bodily reactions he has.

If he starts stammering, he will have to shut up and lie that he is tired. If he becomes an embarrassing shade of auburn, he will have to cough and lie that he might be coming down with a fever. If he shakes, it is because of lack of sleep. If he, Merlin forbids, cries, he will have to claim he must be coming down with some odd moonsickness. You will surely follow him to Madam Pomfrey and maybe it will be easier when you’re alone.

Or maybe it will be worse.

No matter which it was, Remus would have to soldier it, for your sake. You did not deserve his imposing infatuation, but you also did not deserve to lose what you thought to be a loyal friend.

When him and Peter packed up the barely-used desk and mumbled a goodbye to a disapproving Sprout in the door, Remus made it his mission to focus on his breathing again as he almost ran down the hallways to where your friend group always met up outside the Charms classroom.

Be normal, be normal, be normal.

Your eyes found him the second he rounded the final corner, almost as if you had been watching it, waiting for him. A beautiful smile lit up on your face as soon as you saw him, albeit a bit dampened by the worry in your eyes – he simultaneously wanted desperately to soothe you while also berating himself for it being there. His fault.

“Hey dovey.” He forced his words to be casual, his smile to be measured as he strode up beside you. 

This is where he is supposed to drag you into a sideways hug, squeezing your hips while dropping a kiss on the top of your head, causing Sirius to make some quip about “you were literally just gone an hour. He stood beside you perhaps a beat too long before he began to do so with shaking hands, and he felt your burning look as you studied him. Remus made it all the way up to where he would kiss your head before he chickened out due to the tornado screaming in his stomach.

“Hi, Rem,” you all but whispered, your words just for him. You opened your mouth to say more, but he was afraid of what it would be.

“Waited long?” he asked to distract you from it.

“Nah,” you said and leaned further into his side. “But I’m glad you’re here now. How’re you feeling?”

At that, he saw Peter, Sirius, James and Lily – who had been stuck in their own little world – look up and try to hear what he has to say. Remus crumbled under their watchful gazes, knowing they knew him well enough to pick apart his every little reaction. He cleared his throat.

“I don’t really know,” he settled for. “My head’s murky, didn’t sleep well.”

You made a soft cooing sound and started rubbing circles on the side of his hip from where your arms were circled around him. It knocked a wave of dizziness into him that made him want to take a step back to lean against the cold stone wall behind you. In replacement he settled for holding onto you tighter; it only made it worse.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go lay down? Merlin knows we won’t be missing out on anything with the way Flitwick rambles away any sense he might have.”

This is where Remus would laugh heartily at your obvious disdain for the professor that he never truly understood. Instead, his mind zeroed in on one word you said.

We. We, we, we, we.

Circe’s tits, did he want to take you up on that.

He swallowed, acutely aware that you must have heard the sound when stood so close to him, though you didn’t give away any reaction. To buy himself a moment to collect his thoughts, Remus finally dared tilt his chin downwards to kiss the top of your head. It might have been too slow, too tentative, but his heart was beating so fast the rest of his body felt too slowed down in comparison. He hoped you thought the kiss was a thank you for caring and not the nervous stall it was. He hoped he wouldn’t be eternally damned for breathing in the scent of you.

“I’m quite alright, dove,” he murmured instead, furiously avoiding the surely questioning gazes of his other friends. “Thank you, though.”

You grumbled some but didn’t push him on it. He silently thanked you for that, too.

His throat was too parched to partake in the silent banter amongst his friends as you walked into Charms, too focused on where your bodies brushed as you walked, too deafened by the sound of your laughter.

You sat down in your regular spots, you and Remus side by side in the front, with Sirius and James behind you and Lily and Mary to your right. This was normal, this was alright. Flitwick droned on about the theoretics and debates around the charms you learned last lesson, it went in one ear and out the other.

Absentmindedly, you had grabbed Remus’ hand lightly between yours and were tracing soothing circles along his wrist and palm. You meant so well, and this would have cured likely any other ailment Remus struggled with, but right now there were fireworks going off in his head.

Taking advantage of the notice Dumbledore had given all of his professors to not call Remus out on sleeping in class, he folded his arms and laid his head down on them, carefully not to take his hand away from you. If he could shield his face, he could probably talk himself down before class ended.

In the solitude of his arms, he could picture it was just the two of you, sitting in the treehouse you built between your houses as children. If he focused enough, he could smell the apples that grew around him and feel the rough wood beneath his stomach. There, your hand would still be in his, maybe even your cheek on his chest, and it would be alright. It would all be alright because it was just you, and Remus could play dumb and he would never have to realise his feelings and fuck himself over.

It almost worked. Until he was interrupted.

“Psst! L/N?” The whisper was laced with a laughter Remus knew too well and did not care for.

You clearly ignored it – Remus could practically see the eye roll you surely threw his way – but that wasn’t enough to stop his theatrics.

“L/N!” Barty called once more from a couple seats behind you to your right, voice threatening to alert Flitwick to your inattention. “What’s wrong with your dog?”

“What?” you whispered back in equal parts confusion and irritation.

“Your puppy, Lupin,” Barty said, as if it was obvious. Unfortunately, Remus could picture his eye roll too, though his stomach was turning for a wholly different reason. “What’s wrong with it?”

“Remus is quite alright, Junior,” you hissed back, hand tightening on Remus’ at the same time as he loosened it. “And don’t call him a dog.”

Remus slowly lifted his head from his arms and took back his hands to wipe harshly at his face, still not looking towards Junior who barked a low laugh.

“Follows you around like one. Wouldn’t surprise me if you had some invisible leash going on–” Barty quipped, cutting himself off before you could respond and turning to Evan Rosier sitting beside him. “Oooooh, an invisible leash is a marvellous idea, Rosie.”

It was clear you had lost his attention, but Remus’ face still burned painfully as he shifted in his seat. With a harrumphing sound, you turned to look at him. He didn’t meet your eye, couldn’t.

“Ignore him.” Remus always marvelled at how you manage to convey your frustration and care at the same time.

He just hummed in the affirmative, still wiping a bit harshly at his face. If he treated it harshly enough, could he blame his violent flush on it?

“Cariad,” you mumbled, gently taking his hands away from his face, clearly spotting his efforts.

He saw your furrowed eyebrows looking at him, and that was the end of what he could take for the lesson. As you opened your mouth, surely to inquire about how he is, like the beautifully kind person he knows you to be, he pushed his chair backwards.

“I think I should probably listen to you and go lay down, dove,” he murmured, avoiding your gaze. Before you could shoot in and say you would come with him, he continued. “Can you please take notes for me in Transfiguration after this?” 

An indirect rejection, a plea for isolation. He didn’t look at your face as he gathered his things, waiting for you to respond instead.

“Sure, if that’s what you want,” you said carefully.

What I want is you.

“Yes, please.” Taking a deep breath, he leaned forward and pressed a parting goodbye kiss to your cheek, tradition. “Thank you, love.”

Then he was sneaking his way out around the desks, barely catching a murmured voice he knew to be Sirius’, likely leaning forward to ask you about him. His lips singed.

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

Remus hid away in his room for two hours, actually being truthful and trying to get a nap in. The dorm room felt serendipitous, being swept up in rare silence and a grace of darkness as he trickled in and out of consciousness. If he dreamed more of you, he would not admit it.

Any semblance of reprieve he might have chased down was ripped away from him by the creaking of the door and the wall of sound that followed his three favourite boys who always got on his last three nerves.

“Oi, Moons!” Sirius exclaimed, far too cheerily. “You know the rules!”

Remus propped his head up on his elbow from where he was sprawled on his stomach, looking blearily at the three figures as they situated themselves within the dorm. “The rule to not wake a sleeping sod? Yes, I’m the only one who knows that rule it seems.”

Sirius took off his sweater as he discarded his uniform and used it to swat at Remus. “Nope! No wallowing on your own. Sharing is caring.”

“‘M not wallowing,” Remus grumbled as he let his head fall back into his pillow.

Letting his guard down was undoubtedly a mistake because the second Sirius was out of sight, he had the audacity to jump into Remus’ bed, nearly flinging him off from the impact. Both Sirius and James were laughing boisterously as Sirius collapsed on top of Remus and ruffled his hair when he tried to shove him off. “Not anymore, no, we won’t let you.” 

Remus hated that he loved them.

“Precisely,” James added as he pointed at Remus from where he was changing into his non-uniform clothes as well. “So either speak your mind or perk up, buttercup.”

Remus groaned but let Sirius drag him up into a sitting position. “Can a poor lycanthrope not have one off day without you lot getting your knickers in a twist?” Despite his best efforts, there was no ire in his voice.

“Nope!” James said, popping the p. “Not on our watch.”

“Life is simply miserable without our Moony,” Sirius said, clutching his chest as if he was ailing. “And do you have any idea how weird it is to see your sweetheart without you by her side? It’s like watching a cut up picture.”

All humour that had been creeping into Remus’ expression was washed away in and instant as he swallowed harshly, suddenly averting his gaze from Sirius. Instead, James caught it, who looked at him with big eyes behind his glasses, cocking his head to the side. He looked far too much like the stag he is, before his mouth opened in a small gasp. “Oh,” he whispered softly.

Remus’ heart was beating painfully hard at the look of realisation that crossed his face, turning back to Sirius who had a similar knowing, almost pitying look in his eyes. No, no, no, no.

“I’ll be fine, you, erm, won’t have to live without me much longer,” Remus tried to volley back, just a few seconds too late, tongue feeling heavy at being found out.

If his best mates could see through him that quickly, then you probably already had. He had half a mind to take you up to the Astronomy Tower like old times, so he could apologise and then jump off as an act of redemption.

Sirius gave his shoulder a rough squeeze, shaking him a little as if he knew what was going through his mind. “Fantastic. Then you’ll join us for our free periods, yeah? And the party later tonight?”

Still somewhat sputtering, Remus’ eyes widened to an extent he was sure was comedic. “The pa– the party?”

James smiled at him. “Yeah, Moons. Gryffindor half-term party? That we have talked about all week?”

“Merlin, maybe Pomfrey needs to go easy on the potions she gives you,” Sirius teased, getting up to finish changing.

“Or she could give me more,” Remus whispered hopefully, earning him a round of chuckles. 

“You’ll be fine, Rem,” James said, with an undertone Remus did not care for. “If you’re still feeling… off throughout the day and night, you can always snuggle up with a book and ignore us hooligans.” Then, almost as if he was testing the waters. “I’m sure Y/N would love to join you.”

Remus didn’t deign any of that with a response, but he suddenly thought he should get out of his bed so his face didn’t seem so red in contrast with the white sheets.

“I have some essays to knock out, so yeah, I’ll join you to study,” Remus relented. He opened his own trunk to get changed, but decided to half-ass it and just take off his tie and replace his uniform wool with one of his own patterned jumpers.

“And for the party later!” Sirius corrected, ensuring Remus didn’t think he could back out.

“Sure, sure.” He ruffled his own hair so it was Remus-messy and not Sirius-messed-up-my-hair-messy. “Let’s just go.”

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

Considering the extent to which he could fuck this up for himself, Remus reckoned he had been doing fairly good keeping his shit together throughout the day.

If he mentally cursed more than normal, contemplated the murder of each one of his friends including himself and generally couldn’t breathe, well, that was merely part of it.

The whole lot had shacked up in the library for the triple free periods you had back to back on Fridays. While you doted concernedly over him for the first thirty minutes, you eased up once you seemed to decide that this wasn’t Remus shoving down some lycanthropy-struggles and avoiding support and help. 

As always, the two of you sat in the love seat, your legs sprawled over his lap as you read through your textbooks in the oddest positions. This was usually something he might chide you for – “your neck will hurt if you hang over the edge like that, love” – but today he buried his face into his textbooks with all his might to not seem like he was aware of your body. He was, of course, you burned over his skin and lit up his heart, and Circe’s tits was he the stupidest sod in the whole castle.

Nonetheless, he made it through all three hours, engaging in comforting banter and low laughs with his best mates. When you teamed up with him to mess with Sirius, he at least knew that you weren’t upset with him in any way, even though he was being a lunatic today, even though he most definitely would have deserved it.

What Remus knew would be his breaking point was the Gryffindor party.

It was a laid back event, a party thrown for all of Gryffindor, though it was mostly the upper years who were encouraged to attend. They arranged it halfway through every term to celebrate making it through and engaging with each other. Meaning, most people didn’t get shitfaced but there was some good bubbling energy maintained throughout the whole night.

You and Remus had a tradition for how you dealt with parties – just as you had a tradition for pretty much everything, he had come to notice. Gods, he lov– Stop it.

Neither one of you were necessarily fond of large crowds, but you both were incredibly loyal and fond of your friends and wanted to spend time with them. Thus, you attended the parties, but you always did so together. The more uncomfortable you got, the closer you would get to each other, and if one ever needed a break, they would tap the other three times and they would make up an excuse to usher them out of there.

It had never felt so unnerving to be so known.

Throughout the whole party he had been jittery, head rushing with thoughts. He desperately tried not to take in your outfit and then he desperately tried not to read into it when you seemed disappointed he didn’t compliment you for it like he usually did. Why did he have to be such a sweet best friend normally? Remus can’t keep up with himself.

It did not help him in the slightest that others around the party seemed to focus on your outfit much more openly than he could dare. It made him gravitate even closer to you, tighten his hand on his hip, momentarily rest his chin on the top of your head – and then his actions made him want to kick himself. Possessiveness was the last thing he could be engaging with when he was already betraying you in such a manner. 

Leave it to Remus to fuck up something beautiful.

To say you didn’t seem to notice that he was troubled would be taking it too far, but at least you didn’t seem to notice why. You kept him close to your side and would at random points stroke his back soothingly. He wondered if you just thought he was uncomfortable with the party.

You were chatting with Pandora by the drinks table when Barty and Evan strolled up to you both with cheshire cat grins.

“There he is, back on his leash,” Junior said through a menacing laugh, ignoring Evan’s slight elbow to his side. “Feeling better, darling?”

“What brings you to the lions' den, Junior?” Remus asked carefully to divert the topic.

“Well. Y/N’s going so Pandora’s going so Evan’s going, and thus–” he did a small flourishing spin “– I’m going.”

“You’re impossible,” Evan murmured, while Pandora just smiled happily. 

“Is he feeling better, then?” Barty asked once more, this time looking at you.

“No, actually,” you said with a small smile Remus knew not to be genuine. “He is absolutely devastated you’re not in the Slytherin common room right now. He had big plans for you there, you know.”

Remus tried to choke down his laugh as Barty looked torn between glee and irritation. Somehow he made both work. “Sorry to soil your plans then, Lupin. Better luck next time.”

Then he stalked off in almost a hurry and Remus couldn’t help but hope he was going to Slytherin to check if you were telling the truth. 

He looked down at where you were standing beside him and squeezed your shoulder lightly. “You really are a minx,” he whispered conspiratorially.

That turned out to be his undoing. You turned your head to the side to look up at him with mirth playing around in your enamouring eyes, a soft tilt to the corner of your mouth. And your face was oh so painfully close to his.

Remus became acutely aware that he could easily lean in and catch your smile with his. That the air he was breathing had been close to you in some of the only ways he had not yet. That he must look like your boyfriend when you’re standing essentially pressed up against each other like this.

That he most certainly has been looking at your lips for far too long.

When he flicks his gaze back up, he sees a slight furrow between your brows again as you seem to take in his reaction, and suddenly he goes from having butterflies in his stomach to needing to throw them all up. He took a sudden staggering step backwards, almost crashing into James who was engaging in some animated discussion with Marlene.

“I, uh,” Remus said and dear Godrick he was stammering. “I’ll get us some drinks and we can sit down, yeah?” He didn’t wait for you to respond, instead spinning his back to you and hoping you pick up conversation with Pandora again.

Breathe in. Breathe out. Don’t be a bloody arse.

He hoped he had steadied himself enough by the time he plopped down in his favourite grandfather chair near the fire. He placed both of your drinks on the table in front of him, vowing to touch his as minimally as possible to make sure he keeps whatever wits he has left with him.

A dumb smile takes over his face as his breathing quickens when he sees you make your way over to the seating area, after having listened to his desperate silent plea and finished your conversation with Pandora. Pushing his luck, he shoots another silent prayer that it will be smooth sailing from here, which is apparently promptly ignored as you happily sit down in his lap.

Fuck.

This, he reminds himself, is also normal for the two of you. Especially at parties, especially if you have reason to believe he is unsteady in any sense of the word, which he most certainly has given you plenty of reason to believe. 

You give him some form of greeting he can’t quite catch and isn’t sure if he reciprocated as you settle down, putting majority of your weight on his right thigh as you lean your body sideways against his. One of your arms snuck around his shoulders, fingers winding up playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, while the other is stabilising yourself on his knee. Majority of your close friends had followed your lead by sitting down in the small gathering, chattering amongst themselves. He was half-aware that you were rambling on about something to him, something he probably really wanted to listen to, but it felt like his head was underwater.

Unsure of what else to do, he lowered his face into your shoulder and took deep breaths there.

You seemed wholly unbothered, fingers continuing in his hair as your soothing voice carried him through what he feared might become a panic attack. He was almost there, when the cocoon you two had in your chair was burst by the presence of your other friends.

“You alright there, Moons? You’re not going to go all vampire on poor Y/N?” Sirius’ tone was lighthearted and teasing, but Remus felt as if he might actually die.

“Oh, he’s quite alright,” you answered for him with a smile before he could embarrass himself, immediately switching over to engage in conversation with the friends sitting closest to you. Your hand on his knee squeezed reassuringly.

Fuck, how could he not love you?

He loved you.

Remus almost had to fight crying as he hid in the crook of his neck, overwhelmed by his own emotions and the surely watchful gazes of those around him – the latter of which was why he couldn’t. 

With a deep breath he let his desire win for just one second and pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder before emerging from his hiding place. He shifted you carefully to be more comfortable, so that your back was against him and he could rest his head on the shoulder he just kissed.

He did fairly good, partaking in conversation, engaging with the others, albeit more quietly and less than usual. He laughed and he smiled and you were so soft against him, as if you had melted. Remus was in heaven while being tortured.

Marlene wolf whistled quietly from where she was sat on the floor, eyeing Remus with mirth. Though he still did not know why, he was already turning red, the tips of his ears burning.

“Hi, Remmy.” He heard the soft voice say beside him and he turned his head to see Emmeline giving him a somewhat sly smile. “The dance floor’s picking up. Want to go for another round?”

Remus’ stomach churned. Emmeline was such a sweet girl and he never could say no to her, the only thing that felt worse than the embarrassment from his friends’ teasing was the thought of embarrassing her – though Remus was sure even thinking like that made him into an even bigger arse.

Sirius and James had told him multiple times that he could say no. As had you, reminding him how important it was to have boundaries, even while you were sitting practically on top of him at the time. He just could never bring himself to.

Yet his mouth seemed to move on its own accord before he could think, arms tightening around you. “No, not tonight Emmeline, sorry. Knock yourself out, though.” He tried to give her a warm smile, but his movements seemed to be outside of his control at the moment, breath sucked from his lungs.

He realised with a sting that he should have given her more credit all along when she beams back at him. “No worries, enjoy your night!” she cheered before twirling towards the dance floor herself.

Remus let out a shaky breath and turned to his friends who were almost staring him down. James’ mouth was even open in shock, which he thought was a bit dramatic.

“Hold on, what just happened?” Sirius guffawed. “Has our little Moony learned to say no?”

Remus flushed even further. “Shut up, Pads.”

“Don’t think I will,” his mate replied with a wolfish grin turning to look to the others for support. “Never thought I’d see the day.”

“What’s inspired this change in you?” Mary asked thoughtfully, propping her head into her hands as if she was settling in for a lengthy response.

All eyes were back on Remus and he felt like the mask he had been clinging to all day was crumbling. The nerves that shot through him like lightning now was not his usual humiliation from being in a charged spotlight – no, this was fear. Genuine fear that if he didn’t get his head screwed back on within two seconds, he might say something too revealing, or his face would do it without him having to open his mouth. That his fiery ears would somehow spell out I am in love with my very best friend and I realised it too late and am making it everybody else’s problem. He had no idea what to do.

In his time of despair, with Mary’s big eyes staring up at him, Marlene and Lily already snickering between them and Sirius raising an expecting brow, his instincts knew of only one way out.

His finger on your hip lifted. Tap, tap, tap.

Almost as if a switch had gone off, you made a soft gasp and turned to look at him in his lap. “Gods, Rem, speaking of Emmeline, I totally forgot our gift for Sirius in my dorm room in Ravenclaw!” you exclaimed, putting your all into the act. Your excuse seemed to be a good one as Sirius’ head immediately picked up, not unlike that of a dog’s if you said the word ‘treat’ around them. “We have to go get it before the party’s over.”

You elegantly hopped up and out of his lap, dragging him behind him with a grip on his elbow. Remus stumbled and scrambled behind you, tossing a sorry don’t know what that’s about look to the others over his shoulder. He barely caught sight of what he could only classify as a knowing exchange of smiles between James and Lily.

Before he could truly process your rescue mission, he was standing outside in the cool hallway breathing heavily, portrait closed behind him. 

Before him, you stood with your hands on your hips, scanning his face thoroughly, making him almost cower beneath your gaze. You seemed to make up your mind about something as you took his hand once more and walked with him down the hall in silence, rounding the corners until you reached one of the deep windowsills, the kind the two of you would always sit in and read. 

You jumped to lift yourself into it and once you were sat with one hand on each side of your body, you levelled him with a look.

“Okay, spill,” you said, directly but not unkindly. “What is going on with you?”

Remus did not think this through. He needed help and so he called upon you for it like he always does, not thinking to consider that that might very well make this worse for him.

“It’s…” he began, picking at straws in his mind for an excuse. “It’s nothing, dove. Really.” 

“When’s my birthday?” you asked then, to his surprise. He furrowed his brows at you and told you the date. You smiled a bit smugly. “Exactly. So you know I wasn’t born yesterday.”

He genuinely laughed at that, even if it was at his expense. He let his body do as it wished and took a small step closer to you. Not enough for your bodies to touch, but enough to feel like he was in your space. Safe, even in his panic.

“Remus,” you said softly, painfully gently. You rarely used his first name, and now when you did, it was laced with an undertone he couldn’t stomach. It was beginning to sound a bit like hurt. “What is going on with you? Why… why are you acting this way towards me?”

Because you are the one thing I have never had to question and now I’m questioning everything. Because I’m a bloody prick who has one dream and ruins his life over it. Because my mind is running a mile a minute and your lips feel like magnets and I swear I am losing control in a way I only do during full moons.

“I don’t know what to do,” he ended up whimpering quietly, cowardly.

You looked around the hallway as if the answer would be written on any of the walls and moved your arms slightly to gesture around you. “About what? I can’t help you unless I know what it is, cariad.”

He scrunched his face for a moment, looking away from you. “Can we not do this? It’s nothing you can fix, dove.”

You seemed to grow even more confused at that, almost frustrated. “Why not?” He realised then that the two of you had always helped each other through everything. Being locked out must hurt. He wanted to kick himself, but he didn't know what else to do. “What’s wrong, Remus, please I just–”

Remus is besieged by the power of someone much more reckless, driven by desire to alleviate you of your confusion and him of his pain.

He cut you off with a kiss.

He took a large stride forward to slot himself in between your thighs, eliminating the space between you within a second, bringing both hands up to cup the sides of your face and bring it towards him. His eyes were shut tightly, furrow in his brows as his lips all but smashed against yours in a kiss that felt sacrificially sacred. Your lips are just as soft as in his dream, as is the small gasp that escapes you as you tense in his grasp.

Remus has never felt better and he has never felt worse.

The kiss lasts for about 10 seconds before he pulls away in even more of a flurry. His hands lost their grip on you first, hovering over your cheeks briefly, as if considering going back in before thinking better of it. He still had you captured in the kiss, hanging on to it for as long as he could deign himself, knowing it was his last opportunity to do so, all the while kicking himself over it.

Backing away, he put double the distance between you. He felt drunk, stumbling slightly as he all but scrambled away, a stinging sensation behind his eyes.

“I’m so sorry, I don't know why I did that. I didn’t mean to,” he breathed out, reeling at his own impulsivity. “That,” he said through a shaking voice as he looked anywhere but your face, “is my problem, and Y/N, I am so, so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

For the shortest second, he lets his eyes flicker quickly over your face before rushing back to stare at a statue on the wall beside you. Your face was blank, eyes wide. Your fingers were barely touching the lips he had just enclosed in his own.

You must be disgusted. You must be horrified. You must feel violated and Remus wanted nothing more than to disappear from the face of the earth and rid you of this undying problem.

He was every bit the beast you had tried to convince him he wasn’t.

“Why…” you began, voice but a whisper, before you trailed off.

Remus had to shut his eyes at that, tilting his head slightly to the side. If he breathed through his nose, he might not cry. He was sitting before the highest court he knew, and you were about to ask him to explain himself.

“Why are you sorry?”

The words floored him a little, enough to make his eyes snap open and land back on your face. You looked deeply concerned, brows tilted upwards as you seemed to take his face in. “Remus,” you whispered now that you finally had his eyes on you. “Why are you sorry?”

He shook his head in confusion, feeling every bit like the boy he was. “I shouldn’t have done that.” It was all he could get out through his hoarse voice. He also had no idea how to answer that question in a satisfactory way.

You took in a short sharp breath and then lowered yourself onto the ground to stand before him. With your hands held out in front of you, almost as if you were ready to lunge out and catch him if he was to run – an idea that was becoming increasingly enticing to him – you took a small step towards him. “Why?” There was a growing spark in your eye, dimmed only by your worried frown.

“Y/N.” He didn’t know what else to say, eyes trained on you.

“Cariad,” you replied in the same tone, and a tear slipped down his left cheek. You took another measured step towards him, enough to reach out for him if you wanted to – but of course, you wouldn’t want to, not anymore. “It’s alright.”

He felt dizzy at the lack of the scolding or disgust he had braced himself for, realising how stupid he was for even fearing that from you. No, you would reject him sweetly and kindly, and his heart would never be mended from it. That felt worse, somehow.

“It’s not,” he whispered. “Please don’t say it is.”

You smiled ruefully and took another small step towards him. He could feel the warmth eminating from you. Tentatively, you reached up a hand to wipe at the tear still sitting on his left cheek. He held his breath and fought the urge to lean into your touch, but when you pressed your palm more firmly against his cheek, he couldn’t anymore. A soft sigh escaped him and he let his eyes fall shut as your touch supported him. “It is, my sweet boy,” you whispered with an urgency that almost convinced him. “Remus, can you answer me honestly?”

His body tensed once more as his eyes fluttered open to find yours, reverent. Most parts of him were still screaming at him to run away, to shut up, to do anything but this. His heart seemed to be in charge for the moment, though, and he nodded slowly. Trusting you with his world even as he felt like a traitor in yours.

“All this, today… has it been because you have realised you’re… in love with me?” You seemed to be piecing it together as you said the words out loud, eyes carefully searching his face for his reaction.

Another tear slipped down his cheek, and you quickly caught it with your other thumb, both hands now cradling his face. “I’m so sorry,” he said once more.

“You’re not allowed to be,” you whispered, giving him a half-smile, almost as if you were indulging him in a secret of yours. “Please answer the question?”

It was now or never. “Yes.”

To his utter surprise and deep-seated confusion, the smile on your face grew genuine, settling into the one he always searched for. He almost opened his mouth to question it before he was cut off.

No words can describe the sensations that bloomed in his chest, the butterflies that flitted in his stomach, when you used your hands on his face as leverage to pull him towards you for another kiss.

You kissed him. You kissed him. You were kissing.

His mind was threatening to take off like a rocket and captiulate, but his hands had never been more steady as they circled around your waist, splaying out over the small of your back as he dragged you closer. You sighed against him, smile still evident over your lips, and Remus dared – like the bastard he was – to mirror it. 

You were warm against him, but wholly different than you had been in his dream. This felt distinctly real. And just as right.

When you pulled away, your hands had migrated to the back of his neck and you kept your forehead leaned against his. “Good,” you murmured with your eyes still closed. “Because the feeling is mutual.”

He almost reared his head away from you, but managed to only pull back a few centimetres to stare at you in awe. Remus opened his mouth, but no words came out; he could find none intelligent enough to verbalise how utterly gobsmacked he felt.

You seemed to understand him just as well, going by your breathy laugh. There was still that spark in your eye, now shining brightly in the absence of your worry. Had the worry been for him?

“I know I don’t say this enough, but you really are quite an idiot, aren’t you?” you laughed and he slowly felt his heart start beating again.

“Spent too much time with Sirius and James, clearly,” he muttered, half expecting the joke to land flat and you to remember how disgusting he was. Instead, your laugh intensified and you leaned your body further against his. It emboldened him to ask, “What do you mean the feeling is mutual, dove?”

You let your arms glide further up, crossing behind his neck and over his shoulder, bringing him impossibly closer. “Remus John Lupin,” you whispered sincerely. “I am madly in love with you. Romantically. Genuinely. Any thoughts you have that explain that away are false and you mustn't listen to them. I thought you knew by now that I’m always right.”

Even as the grin involuntarily established itself on his face, his eyes were shining with unshed tears. He looked at your face, truly studied it, and he could feel his mind ever so slowly calm down. “You are.”

“What am I?” You were testing him, and he allowed it wholeheartedly.

“Right,” he confirmed. Albeit a bit more hesitantly, he knew better than not to add, “and… in love with me?”

“Two points to Gryffindor.” You reached up to give his lips a soft peck. It felt so natural, like it was already habit for you. He desperately wanted it to be.

“I’m sorry, I’m still reeling from this, dovey,” he confessed, trying to process everything.

There had never been any judgement to be found in your face. “Which parts are you struggling with the most?” 

Your eyes were full of understanding, your face scrunched up in concentration. Remus indulged himself in an old habit by reaching up with one hand to thumb the furrows away. It made you smile just like he wanted it to, and gave him a minute to think. “I don’t understand how I didn’t get it before now. I don’t understand how or why you put up with me. I don’t understand how to keep all these feelings inside such a small heart.”

Your hands were stroking his back carefully as you considered his words. “Well, firstly I would argue your heart isn’t small at all, though I get what you mean. You’re not meant to keep all the feelings inside, you know? That’s when you get all sputtery and jittery and start avoiding your best friends.” You gave him a pointed look and he almost shied under your glance. “Sharing them before you bubble over is always a good thing. We’ll work on it together. As for why I put up with you; I don’t. There’s nothing to put up with, I just enjoy you like we always have.”

Your eyes had trailed off into the distance as you thought, but you brought them back to him with a small smile as you added the final part. “I don’t know what did make you realise, so I can’t help you much there. All I can say is, sometimes we don’t see what is right in front of us.”

Remus nodded along to your words, feeling peace spreading within in that manner only you could inspire in him. He truly was an idiot, wasn’t he? “How long have you known?” he asked then, curiously.

“About you or me?”

“Both?” His smile was becoming closer to his standard sheepish one, and you seemed to preen at the sight.

You bobbed your head side to side as you considered. “It’s hard to pinpoint an exact date – it wasn’t an overnight discovery you know?” Remus did in fact not know nor relate. “But I realised we were in love, not either one’s feelings. It just sat calmly within me.”

“You mean you didn’t freak out to the extent where all students and professors alike were worried about you?”

He grinned at the small giggle that drew from you as you decidedly said, “No. Definitely not.” You studied him for a minute more. “I think I realised about five months ago, but I didn’t feel any real need to rush anything. It felt less like being given a to-do list and more like being revealed the plot twist in a movie before it happens, if you understand? The two best friends get together in the end, don’t tell anyone.”

He ducked his head at that. While he could not relate, your explanation and experience was so wholeheartedly you that it endeared him to no end. “Does that mean we should just ignore it for five more months or…?” His grin turned cheeky as you lightly swatted his shoulder.

“Nah,” you chuckled. “I reckon we’ve waited long enough, yeah?”

He sighed with a smile. “Yeah.”

You both leaned forward at the same time, as if to seal the deal with a kiss. Remus could feel it like electricity in the tips of his fingers, and he understood what you meant about knowing. Now that he was no longer in a constant state of panic, he felt incredibly calm about the whole ordeal.

Or maybe that’s just how he feels around you.

“Should I ask you formally to be my girlfriend, or are we just skipping straight to marriage?” he whispered against your lips.

Remus felt almost wolfish when you barked a loud laugh, throwing your head back and tightening your hold on him instinctively. “I think girlfriend’s enough for now, yeah cariad?”

“If you insist.” He kissed you through his grin, realising that this was all he wanted to do now.

Like he had so many times before, he tightened his arms around your waist and twirled you around in a few circles, legs flying out behind you. Except this time, your giggles were not hidden in his neck but pressed against his lips, and he tried to capture as many kisses as possible while he spun you.

When you landed with a breathless giggle, he kept one arm firmly around your waist as the two of you slowly made your way back to the Gryffindor common room. He wondered if maybe he could grab some blankets and bring you up to the Astronomy Tower so you could be alone without his friends’ meddling. Yet, he wanted to see them as well, ready to volley back any quips about “took you long enough” and “I fucking called it”. Plus, you argued that you should prove that he was in fact alive and sane.

When he walked the halls back to the Gryffindor common room with your body against his, everything felt right. When you entered together, and everyone read what had happened written clearly across your faces, resorting to their usual hoots and hollers, arguably louder than ever before, it never stopped feeling right. 

Remus being Remus, flushed deeply and averted his gaze, as he would continue doing under any uncalled for attention – but your arms squeezing him around the middle brought him right back down and your kiss to his shoulder soothed the burn of their gazes.

“What’s my gift then?” Sirius later asked salaciously as he eyed you two up and down where you cuddled together right back in the same chair, as if nothing changed. Maybe nothing really did.

You grinned widely and cleared your throat. “I honourably present to you,” you said and opened your arms towards Remus with a flourish. “A Moony who is no longer mooning.”

The little group erupted in even more cheers, celebrating the massive feat of taming their brooding boy. Remus couldn’t help but laugh along, even at his own expense. His cheeks were red but it was equally due to the exertion of laughing as it was a tinge of embarrassment. When he hid his face into the crook of your neck again, he didn’t feel nearly as guilty when he pressed a few kisses to the bare skin he found there – even less so when you melted against him with a sigh.

It felt as if a permanent smile had been sown onto his face where he sat, more content than he believed he had been while inside this castle.

Despite Remus Lupin’s disdain for public displays of affection, he had held you publicly many times before this. They all paled in comparison to the feeling of you in his arms now. 

It had always been significant to him in its casualty, just as you have always been significant to him long before he had the mind to put the feeling into words. He will always treasure every moment of your existence in his orbit. Yet the way you melted into his skin now, growing roots in each one of his aching bones – no, nothing could compare to it.

Yes, Remus Lupin ailed from public displays of affection. But you were his cure.

[rainydayathogwarts]

1 boyfriend, 3 perverts - Remus Lupin (poly!marauders)

Summary: Your bf loves giving you head... especially when he's high, and doesn't mind having friends around. 2.5k wc - read pt. 2 here - pt 3 Wrote this instead of studying for my exams that start tmr...

The wooden floor was cold under your feet, blanketed by the chilly air that filled the dorms at this time of the year. You tip toed over to where you left your slippers by the mirror, clenching your jaw as you opened the door to your dorm, careful not to wake your peacefully slumbering roommates. Once outside, you let out a breath you didn't realise you'd been holding, making your way down the stairs leading to the common room.

Luckily, most of the Gryffindors were already in their dorms, tired after a long few days of exams, so no one could see you, nearly half naked, warily creeping up the boys' dormitory staircase. The hallway is dark, but you can hear the muffled noises behind doors of dorm-mates joking around, or arguing. You stop in front of the right door, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear before taking it out again, shaking your head to make your hair fall back into its natural state. Peeking down at your outfit, you nod in reassurance. Wearing small sleep shorts that barely covered your ass and a low cut tank top that didn't make an effort in hiding your perky nipples, you were sure that Remus would pounce on you the second he saw you.

Knocking on the door twice, you look around the hallway to make sure no one catches you in the wrong place. The dorm is eerily quiet when Peter opens the door to the dorm, and he looks visibly relieved when he sees it's you, his shoulders dropping in ease. "It's only y/n, lads." He states, stepping to the side to let you in, and a ruckus of noise fills the room once more as you walk inside, the other three boys clearly just as relieved as he was. They're all sat at the big window nook, window open behind them, cigarette wrappers littering the seats around them, clearly in the middle of a smoke sess. "Sweetheart!" Exclaims Remus from where he is sat, as you approach him, wrapping both arms over his shoulders in a loose hug.

Remus passes the cigarette he holds over to Sirius, letting both arms wrap around you, landing on the back of your bare thighs, just under your ass. He tugs you slightly closer to him, tilting his head up for you to bend down, pressing your lips down to his in a kiss. Remus kisses you hungrily, his hands trailing upwards to press your torso as close to him as he can, opening his mouth slightly so his tongue meets yours as you kiss, making you gasp in shock. You put a hand on his chest, pushing him away from you, eyes wide in surprise at his desperation. His lips tasted of weed and lemon drops, an explanation to his excitement.

"Remmy." You say lovingly, dropping your head down to press kisses onto his naked neck. Remus pushes your hips back slightly, and he spins you around in his arms, shoving you down so you're sat on his laps, and you finally acknowledge the two other boys, engrossed in conversation as though they hadn't even noticed your affectionate exchange. "Hey boys." You greet, accepting the cigarette Sirius hands you when they turn their attention to you. Taking a drag of the cigarette, you move your head to the side, allowing Remus to push your hair back, littering sloppy kisses onto your soft skin, making a trail of saliva down to your tank top's neckline, which barely covers the top of your tits, as Sirius begins to catch you up on their story.

One of Remus' hands comes up to cup one of your breasts, toying with it in his hand, and you briefly wonder just how long they've been smoking for. You jerk away from your boyfriend when his teeth graze the side of your neck teasingly. His grip around your waist tightens, and he pushes you down on his laps back into place, pressing your cunt down on his growing erection. Remus only separates himself from your neck to take a drag of the cigarette hanging between your index and middle finger before he gets back to business, ignoring the boys who begin teasing him.

Eventually, when Sirius drowsily says "Rem here can't go 10 minutes without bringing up how he needs to have you close to him, so I'm not surprised that he's all over you." Remus, still unbothered and worshiping your body, retorts with "Well I'm allowed to miss my girlfriend. At least I'm not the bloke who jerks off to photos of his best mate's girl." The room goes completely silent, with the exception of squelching noises Remus' wet kisses make on your skin. Your jaw goes slack, and you observe the looks on your boyfriend's three best friends' faces, noticing their gaping mouths and rosy cheeks. You almost don't believe your boyfriend, but the looks on his mates' faces say otherwise.

Your hand trails up to grip your boyfriend's short hair, trying to gently tug him away from you for a moment, as you rotate on his laps to face him as best you can. He obliges, looking up at your awaiting gaze with red eyes, a clear sign of how high he is. "Remus, what?" A sleeve covered hand comes up to wipe the saliva off his swollen pink lips. "You didn't know? These three perverts have had a massive crush on you since we got together. Always look extra close when we kiss, or when I touch your body the way no guy should in front of his best mates. To be fair, I only do it because I noticed the photo of you on your knees for me disappeared. Was my favourite photo of you too." His hand comes up to stroke your cheek as he says that last sentence, bringing your face closer to his to kiss you again.

You moan into the kiss, hands coming up to grip his jumper, completely unaware of the growing tents in the other boys' trousers, or the guilty looks on their faces, unaware that they had been caught by the big bad wolf. A string of saliva connects your lips when you pull away from the kiss, and Remus adds "But they're my best mates, I don't mind sharing with them a little." And with that, Remus' hands snake under your thighs, lifting you up gently, and placing you on the spot next to him on the big window nook. "Lay back down for me." You obey his words, still very much confused, head conveniently landing on Peter's laps, acting as a pillow for you. Remus climbs over you to continue placing kisses from where he left off, hands gripping the bottom of your shirt to effortlessly pull it over your head, your bare tits exposed to the group of boys.

You arch your back, the cool summer air sticking to the coats of saliva on your torso, and you take the time to look at the two boys observing you. Both Sirius and James have a hand over the tent in their trousers, palming their growing erections at the sight of you being pleasured by their best mate. At the tap on your hips, your gaze trails back down to your boyfriend, whose fingers grip your revealing sleeping shorts. You lift your hips up, eyes trailing back up to the boy looking down at you, and you smile up at him.

Remus, completely undisturbed by the attention you're paying his friends, pulls your panties off, throwing them in James' general direction as he spreads your knees open, lowering himself onto your cunt. He inhales deeply, his enhanced senses nearly causing his eyes to roll back in pleasure, before he finally buries himself into your cunt, disrupting the moment you shared with Peter, a loud moan cutting off whatever he was telling you. A hand immediately comes to grip Remus' chestnut hair, and your legs fall open even more, letting him suck at your clit and nip the areas around your thighs, surely leaving hickeys on your skin.

Remus's nose nudges at your clit, his tongue poking in and out of your hole, before he switches his attention, sucking aggressively on your sensitive nub, and dragging a finger up your slit, teasing your entrance with it. You gasp in pleasure, shutting your eyes close and bucking your hips up into your boyfriend's face. However, you don't have time to enjoy the feeling before it's taken away from you. "No!" You yell, shooting upwards and barely missing Peter's face when Remus completely removes contact with your pussy, only a hand on your thigh acting as any form of contact between your bodies. "Pete," Remus starts, causing the blonde boy's head to snap towards your boyfriend, an expression of absolute fear on his face.

"Don't let her close her eyes." He finishes, before plunging right back into your pussy, making your thighs squeeze around his head in pleasure. Peter puts his hands on your shoulders, helping you lay back down again, and you pant, looking off to the side to distract yourself from closing your eyes in pleasure. James has your panties wrapped around his hand, palming his dick over his sweatpants, and Sirius sits next to him, joggers unashamedly pulled down just enough for his dick to spring out, jerking himself off in long strokes. You gasp, back arching when Remus plunges two fingers inside your cunt, thrusting them into you quickly while his mouth works on stimulating your clit.

"Oh Rem!" You moan, digging your head back into Peter's laps, eyes screwing shut in pleasure. "Y/n... Y/n?" Peter mutters, unsure of what to do. "Y/n open your eyes." He tries again, to no avail. Remus lifts his head up, fingers still thrusting into you, and reaches up with his free hand to pinch your nipple, twisting it harshly. "Fuck!" You yelp, eyes snapping back open to make eye contact with your boyfriend. "When Pete tells you to open your eyes, you listen!" He instructs, slowing his hand's movements, waiting for a response. "Okay, fuck! Please Remus!" You beg, grinding your hips on his hand desperately, tears building up in your eyes. "Now what do you say you Pete?" He asks, his hand speeding up again. "'M sorry Pete." You sniffle, looking up at him. "Good girl." Says Remus, grinning when he feels your pussy clench at the praise.

"It's okay, y/n" Replies Pete, eyes going wide when you chase for his hand, pulling it on your body, and moving his fingers to grip your tit. "Shit!" He curses, looking at your possessive boyfriend. "Remus, is this- is this okay?" He asks fearfully, sighing when your boyfriend glances up, nodding. "Whatever my girl wants to do, she can do." Remus mutters against your pussy, focusing on your pleasure once more. A groan pulls your attention away from Pete, who begins massaging your tit, pinching your nipple slightly, and your cunt clenches in pleasure again. Your gaze lands on James, who is roughly palming himself, too shy to properly take care of himself like Sirius next to him. "Oh God" You moan, eyes fixated on his frustrated face, eyebrows furrowed and tears forming in his eyes. "Jamie." His head immediately snaps to you. "Come closer." And the boy obeys, dragging a chair right next to you.

You wipe a stray tear falling down his cheek, and reach out to the top of his sweatpants, pathetically trying to pull them down, hips bucking up at the sudden overstimulation on your clit. James helps you, pulling them down just enough for his cock to be exposed to you, angrily slapping his bare torso. The tip of his cock is red and leaking pre-cum, and you immediately start rubbing it, moaning the second James cries out in pleasure, thighs squeezing around your boyfriend's head, working hard to make you cum. You spread James' pre-cum down his dick and to the base of his cock, squeezing him near his balls before starting to stroke his length. His hips buck up into your hand, and you're suddenly reminded of the hand massaging your tit, looking up at Peter, who is completely engrossed in your body. Your eyebrows furrow and you feel the knot in your belly tightening, but something is missing.

You suddenly feel frustrated at the neglect of your second tit, and look for Sirius's eyes in the room, already locked on you. You look back down at your tits, hoping Sirius gets the message, and it seems he does, scurrying over to you, and kneeling on the floor next to the window nook, hand still glued to his cock. Boldly, his free hand reaches up to your tit, and he leans forward to wrap his lips around your perk nipple. You cry out as he begins sucking on it, your fist around James' cock tightening unawarely, causing him to gasp. Remus adds a third finger to your cunt, still sucking on your clit and you're done for, crying out his name loudly as you cum around his fingers and mouth, orgasm nearly causing you to black out. You're aware of the other two boys crying out too, closely followed by Remus, whose vibrations go up your pussy, making you gasp, letting go of James' cock to grip Remus' hair tightly, pulling his face closer to your cunt.

Remus' fingers slow down on your cunt, and he eventually pulls them out, tongue lapping at your pussy to clean you up, while you beg him to stop. "Fuck, baby-Rem can't!" James and Sirius shoot each other incredulous looks, panting to catch their breaths: they weren't expecting the night to come to this. When Remus finally pulls away from you, he leans over you, arms wrapping around your back to help you sit up, and you ogle at him, and the wet patch in his trousers, giggling slightly. "So we all finished except poor Peter?" You guess, looking back at the boy who sheepishly nods, cheeks tinted red. "Well-" You begin to suggest, only to be interrupted by your boyfriend. "No, I'm absolutely not done with you yet. You can take care of Peter when we're done, if he doesn't get to it first." He states, arms wrapping around your waist and effortlessly picking you.

You can hear Sirius cackle, and Peter groan whilst Remus walks the short steps to his four poster bed, dropping you on his mattress before pulling the curtains closed, and throwing his jumper off, leaving his torso in all its naked glory. "Muffliato or no?" He asks you, leaning down to press a soft kiss on your lips. Just as you begin to say the answer, you hear three yells of "No!" coming from outside the curtains.

"Pervs!" Your boyfriend yells out, though he obeys with a grin, shimmying out of his trousers.

[luveline]

𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐭

part one | chapter list 

You find yourself drawn into Remus’ life after an awful night you can’t remember. He does his best to hold onto you. [10k]

cw: heavy themes, implied sexual assault of the reader [with no graphic scenes but it’s a continuous theme, so please be careful when reading], pregnancy, eventual friends to lovers, friendships, hurt/comfort, james makes a lot of soup, found family

𖦹

The pharmacy on Wilmand Street is always deathly quiet. The boy behind the counter reads and occasionally picks up the phone to put it back down, his hair in his eyes, a waxiness to his pale skin that never fails to perturb. 

Your shoes creak over the hardwood floor. He’s noticed your entry, signalled by a golden bell above the door and your muffled panting, but he hasn’t looked up. 

Your eyes slide past pads, nighttime, ultra-long panty liners, searching with a poorly restrained desperation for something in particular. 

The phone rings —dark-haired boy picks it up and puts it back down again as you recalled, silencing the ring. You watch him from over your shoulder and he looks up from his book to stare. 

“Pregnancy tests?” you ask.

His expression doesn’t change as he pulls a drawer open behind the desk with a metallic clink. “What kind?” 

“The most reliable. Please.” 

He gives a nod, black curl bobbing under his chin. He grabs a blue card box and places it on the counter. “Sixteen fifty.” 

You open your purse before you’ve reached him, extracting the change exactly and tipping it next to his book. “Thank you.” 

“Are you alright?” 

Your heart squeezes in your chest like a tightening fist. “Why?” 

“I have to ask. I’m a mandated reporter.” 

“I’m not a child.” 

He levels your look with his own. “You don’t have to answer. I’m only asking because you look upset. Are you alright?” 

You don’t think you’ve ever heard him say more than three words at a time. His voice is reminiscent of someone else’s, half-remembered. You want to ask him, then. The questions you’ve had since it happened. Why does it hurt so badly, still? But the boy, while seemingly well-intentioned, isn’t one you trust to care nor keep it to himself. 

“Fine,” you reply, pressing the blue-boxed test into your pocket, pulling the hood of your coat up to brace against the December rain. You’re fine. 

The door opens before you can get to it, another lovely dark-haired boy letting himself inside. His stare is blank as the one at the desk’s is, but you smile on instinct and he smiles back warmly after a moment, holding the door for you to leave. 

“Okay, Reg?” you hear him ask as you pass.

“Close the door,” Reg says. “You’re letting in the cold.” 

—

It’s even colder the next time you go. You throw on another hoodie and wrap a scarf tightly around your neck, face ducked, nose tickled by flyaway fibres. The walk to Wilmand Street takes seventeen long minutes where your hands hurt, then shake, chapped by hateful winds. 

The pharmacy’s newspapered window comes into view. A poster for the local pub leaks ink on the outside, wet by the rain, its font blooming like fungus across purple paper. Live music event: December 31st. 

The dark-haired boy —Reg?— is behind the counter again. The first one. Are you alright? boy. He looks twenty so or near that, but there’s something wilfully young about the skin under his eyes, despite a more haggard pinch to his brow. You were hoping it would be the second one, or the sandy-haired boy who mans the till in the very early mornings. He has a more natural smile than the other two. Perhaps not more authentic, but quicker to perk up when you slink in for whatever before work, Mondays and Fridays if he’s there. 

Reg doesn’t lift his head. You push yourself toward the back of the pharmacy. It’s a small shop slotted between two others, one wall touched from the next in thirty seconds should you walk it. It makes pretending you’re there for other things useless and embarrassing, but you do it anyway. Another test won’t change what you wanted the test to say, but you can’t take one single test and trust it was right. 

“Reliable?” Reg asks when you finally approach. 

“Yeah. And the five strip box, too, if you have it.” 

Reg takes them from the drawer and adds their prices seemingly in his head. “Eighteen eighty-nine.” 

You pass him a twenty pound note and wait for your change, not bothered that he counts it slowly, or that he puts it down flat on the counter away from your outstretched hand. “Thanks,” you murmur. 

He noticeably bites his tongue. 

“I want to be sure, is all,” you say. 

“If you go to the doctor’s, they do it for free. And it has a ninety nine percent rate of accuracy.” 

You hold the tests to your stomach. “I’m not… really sure what I’d want them to tell me, right now.” 

“They’d tell you the truth, at least.” Reg seems to decide this line of conversation isn’t one he wants to continue, and he lets his mouth flatten into a thin, white line. You get the sense though that he isn’t done talking, and are rewarded for your patience with an inkling of an almost-smile. “Please know that I’m bound by duty of care while I work here, so if you are concerned about something, I can listen and offer advice. And if you don’t want to tell me private information, my uncle is the acting pharmacist, and he is more strictly bound by patient confidentiality law.” He looks you in the eye. “You’re only as alone as you allow yourself to be.” 

“Who says that?” you ask, poked by the way he lays it out. 

Reg doesn’t like your question and doesn’t answer. He picks up his book, murmuring, “I hope they give you the result you want.” 

A different dark-haired boy is standing outside of the pharmacy when you leave. With a nice nose, eyes like a puppy, he’s handsome but hidden behind black frames. He stands from his car where he’d been leaning when the door swings out, sits back again when he realises you’re not who he’s looking for. “Sorry, lovely,” he says, pulling at a loosely-knotted tie. “I thought you were someone else.” 

“Sorry,” you say back, holding the tests to your chest. 

Your hand covers the boxes. His eyes flicker down to them regardless. You wait for disdain or embarrassment but see neither. Really, the only thing this new boy wears is pleasantness. 

“Don’t stay out too long, will you?” he asks, smiling genially, “You’ll freeze.” 

“I’m–” You clear your throat, caught off guard to have a stranger care about you so openly. No reluctance to his well wishes, and no strings. “Sorry– I’m going home now. I won’t stay out.” 

“Good, shortcake. Have a good night.” 

You should say you too. The wind chases you back to your flat, where you head for the bathroom, and, despite living alone, lock the door. 

—

You take your pregnancy test and sit on the floor, too weak-legged to stand at the sink, waiting for two pink lines. 

Sure enough. Control, result. One solid pink line, and one much lighter. It doesn’t matter —a positive is a positive, no matter how weak. The strip tests say the same thing. 

In TV and movies, people always paint the test as the ultimate moment. As though the result is the result, and that everything after is fixed, but the result now is only a signifier for another decision to be made: will you keep your baby, or foetus? Do you feel as though it is a baby, or a foetus, or both? Is it welcome, or a foreign object? There is no right or wrong answer, only how you feel. 

The migraine you get then is debilitating. Like toothache in every tooth, pain behind your eyes half-psychosomatic, half physiological stress. You’re not sure how long you’re in the bathroom holding your forehead, but it’s dark when you manage to stand again, and the tests have only gotten more obviously positive. You throw them all in the bin. 

—

The third day you go back to Wilmand Street pharmacy, the desk is manned by your unfamiliar, smiling boy. He looks up when the door opens, his eyes browned honey set in a face that recently saw the sun, but not too much of it. Kissed by it. His cheeks are pinked. He must be the first person who’s worked here to bother turning on the heating. 

“Morning,” he says.

“Morning,” you say back. Voice croaky, you remember to be polite. “You okay?” 

“I’m great, lovely, thank you. How are you?” He gives a nod toward the street. “It’s so cold out, are you gonna be warm enough in your jumper?” 

You find yourself struck as you were the day before, so startled by genuine kindness that you can hardly work your mouth. “I’m okay. I’m going right back home after this.” 

“Aw, good.” 

You nod. What are you here for today? Not another test. You aren’t stupid enough to believe a third round will give you a different verdict, but you‘d felt an urgent need to move. 

You grab a rounded basket from near the door and make your way to the haircare. There’s a handful of shampoos to choose from. You take the usual. Beneath them are baby shampoos and soaps. On a whim you pick one up, the words Tear and fragrance free stuck like a bad swallow at the back of your throat. 

Babies need so many things. At the supermarket they have these great walls of baby food and it’s expensive enough to take your eye out every time. A quarter of an hours wage for every organic, soft meal, and sure, they don’t need organic, vegetables are organic intrinsically, whatever, but if you don’t buy organic pre-made meals you have to make the baby food yourself, how long does that take? You put the baby shampoo down and turn to the conditioners. 

Unhappy, you scour them for nothing and turn on the spot. Why is Dr. Black never here? How are you supposed to ask him your questions if he doesn’t show up to work? 

You’ll have to ask the brown-haired boy. Nice eyes, nice smile. He probably won’t judge you, at least not out loud. 

He stands up from his rickety chair, soft leather seat worn and creaking as he pushes it away. “Yeah?” he asks. 

“Do you have to do that patient-confidentiality thing?” 

He smiles rather gently. “I do. A condition of my employment is to protect patient information. Legally, I can’t share private or sensitive information about you to anyone else in the world, unless I believe you’re in proper danger.” He holds his hands behind his back. “Is there something you wanted to ask me?” 

Wind roars outside. Your eyes start to the door. 

“There’s a private room in the back,” he adds. 

“I don’t want to waste your time.” 

“It’s not wasted. Even if I weren’t legally obligated to keep whatever secrets you may have, I’m worried you look a bit poorly.”

He speaks oddly. Or not odd, but different to any of the other men you’ve met. It’s friendly, and yet somehow he’s quiet, too. His interest feels real, so you cross the room to the desk and put your basket on your shoes. 

You try to find a way to say it. “I know you’re not a doctor.” 

“No, I’m an apprentice pharmacist.” 

“Right. I know I should go to the doctor, and not you.” 

“That depends. We’re here to help. Doesn’t matter if you should go somewhere, you can ask me first.” 

You struggle. He waits. His hands lay steady on the edge of the desk, his face nearly blank besides a hint of warmth.  

“Is it alright if it’s a question about, um, sex?” 

He nods emphatically. “Of course that’s alright. I can’t promise I’ll know the answer, but you’re welcome to ask me anything and I can always get back to you if you’re not willing to ask someone else.” His smile turns wry. “I know it’s uncomfortable, but it’s only sex. I don’t mind.” 

“I just…” You hold your hands together. “I wanted to know, if pain after… if it’s supposed to hurt so much after.” 

His wry smile is quickly subdued, though he remains friendly looking. “It depends,” he says, measured, “on a few things. You probably know that the first time you have sex can be painful because of the initial perforation of the hymen, but usually sex isn’t supposed to be painful at all.” 

“At all.” 

“No. If sex hurts, it’s likely from a lack of preparation, bruising of the cervix, or it could be a condition called vaginismus. That’s where your muscles tighten suddenly when you attempt penetration. Having sex with vaginismus can be extremely painful.” 

Something on his chest catches the light. A name tag. 

He follows your gaze. “Oh,” he says. “I’m Remus. Sorry, it might’ve been nicer for you to know that before I started talking.” 

Remus… You shake your head at him. “Um… Remus… Well, I’m not really sure what happened.” 

“Right.” 

“I wasn’t–” Your heart jumps before you can confess, horrible secret stuck to the roof of your mouth. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, “are you sure you don’t want to go sit down in the quiet room with me? I can make you a cup of tea.” 

“I can’t have caffeine.” 

“I have night time tea. Is that alright?” 

“The shop?” 

“It’s okay, I’ll ask Sirius to come down. You really aren’t doing anything wrong.” 

“I feel like I shouldn't ask you.” 

“That’s a consequence of our great British society,” he says, lightly teasing as he lifts the counter to come from behind it and presses a small red button on an intercom box by the inside door. It’s an attempt to make you feel better, and it nearly works. “You feel embarrassed about something you have no reason to feel embarrassed of. Everybody has sex, and everybody has bad sex, sometimes, and needs advice.” 

The intercom crackles before you can speak. “Moony?” a voice asks. 

“Sirius, I have someone who needs to talk to me. You’ll have to come on the till for a bit.” 

“Kay. Down now.” 

Remus smiles. “That’s about as obliging as he gets.” 

“Sirius, is he the– is he the one who reads?” 

“Not often. You’re thinking of Regulus, his brother.” 

Regulus, of course. “They look so similar.” 

“They do.” He gestures for you to stand beside him as the inside door swings open, unveiling one of those dark-haired brother’s, the taller of the two. 

“Oh, hi,” Sirius says, wet hair on his shoulders, his t-shirt sodden at the front like he’d swept it back, “okay? There’s biscuits in the left cupboard, Moons.” 

Remus, Moons, Moony, holds the door back and lets you inside. 

The walk to the quiet room is strange. Sitting down at the table with him as he passes you a box of biscuits, kettle boiling, he doesn’t put you on ends, but it doesn’t feel good. You slip your hand under your t-shirt where he can’t see and feel the hot stretch of your stomach for something that isn’t there. 

“So,” he says, grimacing, “I’m going to ask you some precursory questions. You don’t have to answer any of them if you don’t want to.” 

“Okay.” 

“Are you in any active danger?” 

You shake your head slowly. “None.” 

“Is someone close to you hurting you?” 

“No.” 

“Are you alright?” 

You twist your hands together tightly. “I don’t think so.” 

“No?” He slips his chair closer to your own. “Are you hurt now?” 

You look down at your lap. This is awful. This is why you didn’t want to go to see your doctor. “I don’t know. I’m not hurt, but it does hurt. I move and it feels like something sharp is digging into me.” 

“I see.” He frowns. “This can happen sometimes with penetration. It’s like I said before, if your body isn’t, you know, prepared? If you aren’t using lubrication, if you aren’t relaxed, it can be as simple as friction having hurt you, but it’s possible you’ve got cervical bruising, or an issue with your pelvic floor. It could be that you have a UTI. If we go through a couple of questions together I might be able to suggest a solution, but I have to tell you to see your doctor if you can. Alright? Pain after sex can be normal, but it doesn’t have to be. When we go back out, I’ll give you some paracetamol as well.” 

He looks as though he might have something else to say, but he stops when you open your mouth. “I don’t know what happened.” 

Remus frowns again. “Right.” 

The cellophane on the biscuits is shining under the light. 

“I don’t really know what to do.” 

“It’s a stabbing pain?” His frown gets impossibly deeper. “I have some ibuprofen. Off the record, you can have some of that with your tea. Here.” He procures a blister pack from his pocket and hands it to you, jumping up for the kettle, carrying it back to your mugs to set with the pint of milk. “It will probably go away soon, lovely, I would try not to worry, but it’s good to keep an eye on it too, and to book with the doctors if it gets worse. There are so many things that can go wrong in the body, but we’re also such good self-healers, it’s hard to know what to do.” 

“It’s… something else, too.” 

“Yeah?” 

“I was wondering if the pain is maybe because I…” 

Your face goes hot as coal embers, a furious sweat on the back of your neck. Remus doesn’t prod. He pours water into your mug until it’s a little over half full, the tea bag at the bottom staining it sepia. 

“I think I’m pregnant,” you say, not sure why it hurts to say so much. 

“Right.”

“Do you think it hurts because of that?” 

Remus bites his lip as he pours his own mug of tea. He’s looking at you as he puts the kettle down. “No, I wouldn’t think so, but it’s not an impossibility. How pregnant were you thinking?” 

“It was two weeks ago, so… so however long it takes to get pregnant.”

He looks alarmed, then. “Lovely, that was the last time you had sex?” 

“Yeah.”

“And it still hurts now?” 

“Only sometimes,” you say nervously. 

He ignores his steaming tea. “Right. Well, I think I need to advise you to make an emergency appointment today. I can make it with you. You shouldn’t still be hurting after two weeks, pregnant or not. Ectopic pregnancies don’t tend to hurt until further along, so…” Remus slows, looking at you with that too-kind frown, brown eyes darker back here behind the fog curls of his tea.

You feel caught on something. 

“I wasn’t awake,” you say quietly. “Just woke up hurting. I guessed what happened, ‘n now I’m pregnant. It could only have been...” You shrug it off, even as heat blooms behind your eyes, nose already hot and sniffly. 

“You were assaulted.” 

“Yeah, I guess so.” 

Remus seems to freeze up. “I’m sorry.” He takes a few seconds, and then he meets your eyes. “I can’t imagine how scary that must have been, and how scary it still is.” 

Your eyes line with tears. “I mean, it’s less scary now.” First tear tips forward as your voice falls to pieces. “I just don’t know what to do. Every day I’ve come here this week I’ve tried to ask about it, because I saw that poster, if I’m hurt then I can– then I can come to the pharmacy, but I’m not hurt, I’m fine now.” 

“Oh,” he says gently, pushing his chair over a little to bring himself closer, his hand coming to rest on your hunched shoulder, “even if you weren’t in any pain at all, you’re more than welcome to come here and speak to us, to me. This residual pain, I imagine you must’ve been quite injured when it happened. You didn’t have any help at all?” 

“I didn’t think there’s anything they could do.” 

“That’s okay, it’s not your fault,” he says, rubbing your shoulder kindly. “I just want to know as much of the details as you feel alright giving me, so we can move forward in the best way possible.” His hand slides across your back, nearly hugging. “I’m sorry. Really. And I’m sorry for talking so much about ‘bad sex’, I didn’t realise what you were telling me.” 

“I’m sorry for telling you.” 

“What?” he asks, a soft incredulity to him, “You have nothing to be sorry for. You can tell as many or as few people as you like, but I’m extremely glad to be told, because no one should ever have to face this sort of thing alone, should they?” He rubs your back when you nod, again when you sniffle. “Alright. It’s alright. You’re okay.” 

You don’t cry as much as you worry you might under a soft touch. The memory of waking up paralyses you for a bit, that confusion, the pain, the bruise across your neck. All of it makes you feel sick, but Remus shushes you under his breath, not to really shush you, but to calm you down. 

“I’m okay,” you say, shamed. 

“Try and drink some of this tea. Can I leave you alone for a minute?” 

“Oh, uh– yeah, of course. I’m fine.” 

His hand lingers between your shoulders. “Just for a minute, I’m going to find some bits for you–”

“I don’t need anything–”

“No, no, it’s okay, it’s just stuff I have to give you, and some things you might need.” Remus’ hand traces carefully to the front of your shoulder. He meets your eyes, nothing but compassion in the line of his mouth. “Okay?”

You say okay. Remus uses the door you came in through to head back out onto the pharmacy’s shop floor, letting it shut quietly behind him. You press your hand to your teeth. 

—

To Remus’ credit, he apologises for both pamphlets. Abortion Explained. What to expect when you’re expecting. “For you to know your options,” he’d said. “Whatever you decide, it’s your decision.” 

He can’t know you’ll spend a week pouring over them all, that you’ll worry at the corner of the STD clinic card, or that you’ll shove the RapeCrisis one down the side of your bed, desperate to throw it out, but terrified you’ll need it, too. 

And some of the stuff he gives you. You don’t even know what to do with it. Painkillers, lavender oil, discreet pads for incontinence. You’d tried to pay and he’d touched the back of your hand without explanation. “No, it’s okay,” he’d said. Nothing else. 

You spend days again wrapped in your own nausea, until Thursday evening, when you make your way to Community Support. 

You honestly weren’t considering it when Remus first gave you the card, but he said his friend worked there, “My best friend, James,” he corrected, ”and his wife, Lily, too. She talks to people about all kinds of things. I just wonder if you might feel happier talking about it with a woman.” 

Which was a nice sentiment, and possibly true, though Remus had been the first person you told. To be met with his sympathy in such a boundless capacity made it easier. Made you think, Maybe I’m not stupid for hating that it happened. 

“I’m here every Monday, Thursday, Saturday and Sunday,” he‘d said when you made up a lie about needing to leave, scared of overstaying, “seven ‘til three, but you can ask for me if you ever want to. Sirius usually knows where I am.” 

And you had wanted to, but you knew you couldn’t. Being so desperately alone that you craved the comfort of a stranger’s hand is fine, but it didn’t feel okay to hold him hostage like that. Of course he feels sorry for you, of course he wants to make you feel better, how heartless would he look otherwise?

You’d chide yourself for thinking cynically about someone who’d only ever been nice if it would make a difference. Lonely, wrecked, you end up at the Community Support Group at the local leisure centre, wavering behind the swing doors. 

A face appears on the other side of the door. Deep skin, eyes like cherry pits and lips painted a cheery red, a woman smiles at you and pulls it open. 

“Hi! Are you here for the support group?” 

“Uh– Yeh–” You swallow roughly. “Yes. Is that here?” 

“That’s here.” She puts a thumb through the belt loop on her jeans. “Why don’t you come inside?” 

You take a tentative step.

“I’m Mary,” she says. 

“I don’t have to sign anything, right?” you ask. 

Mary leads you into the room without stopping. “This is off the books only. Do you want some tea or coffee?” 

“I can’t have caffeine.” 

“Decaf?” 

“Can I have water?” 

Mary has a good smile. Like she knows you, like you’re already friends. She cups your shoulder and guides you to the refreshment table, an impressive splendor of coffee, tea, individually wrapped biscuits, and sandwiches. There’s a box of protein bars with a handwritten red felt note that says: Take me home if you want to! 

“Aren’t hungry are you?” Mary asks. 

“Not really.” 

She ducks down at the table and pushes aside tablecloth to grab a crate of water from underneath.

“You haven’t been here before, then?” Mary asks as she stands. “I remember most faces, I don’t think I’ve seen you here.” 

“No, I’ve never… um, someone at the pharmacy told me I can come,” you say tightly. 

“Oh, you can! Of course you can. I wondered if you were new, that’s all.” She presses a bottle of water into your hands. You look down at her fingers, confused at their odd texture, your neck snapping up once you realise what you’re doing.

Mary has scars all over her hands, her wrists, and you’d been gawking at them by mistake. “Sorry,” you mumble. 

“For what? Do you want me to stay? Or would you rather be by yourself?” 

“We don’t sit in a circle, do we?” 

Mary laughs lightly. “No, no circle yet, you can leave if you don’t wanna stay for the group talking therapy. For the first hour people just say hello to one another. There are a ton of counsellors here, okay? I’m just gonna wander, but if you want to talk to me, come and find me, yeah?” 

“Okay, thanks. Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome, hun.” She smiles at you, a little softer than before. “You can sit down if it makes you feel less awkward, but be warned, the sofas are James’ territory. He loves to talk.” 

Don’t wanna get stuck with James, you think. Though really, you’re here to talk. Or to turn around and go home with a pocket full of protein bars. 

The community room is an emptied dance hall that’s been made nice. There are big boards of fliers, of last year’s trampolining club, and another of the Community Support Christmas club, whatever that had been. It looked busier then than it does tonight —there are a ton of sunny looking counsellors dotted around the room and talking in triangles, half as many people like you. 

Someone random catches your eyes and you fluster, making your way to the terracotta sofas in the corner of the room on impulse. A man sits with an arm across his eyes, glasses on his chest, looking so sorrily tired for a second that you forget you’d come looking for help of your own. 

“Are you okay?” you ask, stilted. James’ territory, and you’d walked straight in. 

The man sits up starkly. He looks right at you, but you don’t recognise him until he puts on his glasses. It’s one of those pharmacy men. 

No, it’s not, you’d just seen him outside. 

“Hello,” he says, sliding his glasses up a strong-bridged nose. “I’m okay, I’m just resting my eyes,” —he laughs— “you alright?” You nod. “Yeah? Here for the support club? Or the sandwiches?” 

“I–” Will you stammer every time someone asks you about it? “One of the– the pharmacy, one of the pharmacists told me to come.” 

“That’s good,” he says earnestly. “I like those guys. Did you want a sandwich or something? I must’ve made a hundred. My hand still aches from the butter knife.” 

“I’m okay.” 

“Okay. Well, did you want to sit down? I promise I won’t hold you hostage or anything.” 

What am I doing? you think miserably, taking a seat in the sofa adjacent to his. 

He crosses one leg over the other. “Please don’t look so upset. I swear I genuinely won’t make you talk. I’m just here for the biscuits and lovely Lily, I promise. And lovelier Remus–” He laughs to himself. 

“You’re James?” you ask. 

“The last time I checked.”

“Remus– he mentioned you’d be here. I forgot.” 

James only smiles. “He’s brilliant, isn’t he?” he asks, wriggling in his seat to procure one of those biscuit packets from his back pocket. 

“He said that I might like talking to Lily.” 

It feels weird calling her by her first name without knowing her, but James agrees, “I’ll introduce you when she gets here, if that’s what you want.” 

“I just… I don’t know.” 

“She’s just as nice as Remus is. Remus was nice to you, wasn’t he?” 

You nod and look down at your clenched hands. “Yeah. He was nice to me.” 

“That’s good.” 

A tepid silence pervades for a moment. 

“Do you want a biscuit or something? Or we have noodles and soup and stuff in the storage room, I’m happy to make you something warm if you want that.” 

“You guys are like a restaurant,” you say, still not willing to look at him. 

“It’s nice to have options.” 

You nod hurriedly, sick to your stomach all over again. Options. Decisions. 

Somewhere in the room, they turn on a radio. Shoes squeak on the waxed floor, a boy laughs like he’s being tickled. It was a mistake to come tonight. You desperately want someone to hug you and you know it’s too much to ask for, staggering to your feet with a headrush to be blinked back. 

“You okay?” James asks.

“Yeah. Um, where’s the toilet?” 

“Back out of the double doors, they’re right in front of you, okay? Straight in front and then to the left, you can’t miss them.” 

“Okay.”

“Wait, Y/N?” he says. 

You shoot him a look that betrays your surprise. 

“Sorry, Remus told me to keep a look out for you. I just wanted to say, I know this is different, and it’s weird, I get that, and I have no idea why you’re here tonight, but I promised Remus I wouldn’t upset you, and I think I already have.”

“He didn’t tell you why I’m here?” 

“Of course not.” James blows a breath that makes his hair fly away from his face in a wave. “It’s none of my business why you’re here. My job is to make sandwiches. I mean, some people come here just for the sandwiches or the warm room, and that’s fine.” 

“The sandwiches are that good?” you ask. 

“They’re great. We don’t fuck around, I use the real salted butter in the foil wrappings and the thick bread and everything. Proper ham, not the wafer thin stuff. And there’s veggie bacon too, if you don’t eat meat. I don’t know, could you please just let me feed you something? Remus won’t forgive me if you came here and you didn’t even eat.” 

“I think you’re using Remus as a ploy,” you say quietly. 

“I am! So let’s go have a sandwich or a biscuit or something.” He waves his biscuits at you. “They’re Border’s. Butterscotch Border’s, you literally can’t ask for better.” 

Just try. Be brave for a bit. “I like the uh– the lemon ones.” 

James shoots up onto his feet, grinning. “Amazing taste. Let’s go find you some.” 

—

James takes you to the refreshment table. He finds you lemon drizzle biscuits, two packets, and he pushes two more into your hands with the command to take them home. He offers to make you dinner again when Lily arrives in a tizzy, with a chubby baby on her hip. 

Harry, she says. Just turned three. Scandalised everyone at home, Lily’s sister kicked her out, disaster. Harry, though, is beautiful. James and Lily are beautiful, and happy. James takes Harry into his arms the moment he sees him murmuring about his boy, and the sensation of guilt under your skin grows worse than ever. 

How are you liking group? Lily asks. Would you come back next week? That’s great! I’m so glad to hear it. 

—

You’re walking through Wilmand Street to the corner shop a few days later when you see him. Brown hair wet with snow, ashing a cigarette into the brick wall by the library. Remus cringes as he does it, blowing smoke from the side of his mouth in a call, “Y/N!” he says, “Hey, lovely, how are you? Sorry about the smoke,” he adds. “I was hoping I’d see you this week.” 

“Yeah?” 

“I wondered how you were doing.” 

“Well, don’t worry about me, I’m okay. I…” You cringe, pulling a hand down your sore chest. “I owe you an apology. I’m sorry for the other day, for dumping that stuff on you, you don’t even know me and I told you such a horrible thing and made you worry, and your friends were so nice to me at the community group and I just didn’t say thanks or anything. I’m genuinely ashamed of myself.” You smile a weird smile, clunky, attempting to brush everything away like it didn’t mean anything, silly little you. “All the time.” 

Remus’ expression goes odd, a wall you can’t read, left searching his winter jacket for clues as to how he’s feeling. “I don’t think you have anything to be ashamed of,” he says, finally and simply. 

“It was rude of me.” 

“I have some experience with feeling ashamed for the things other people have done,” he says, flakes of snow kissing his shoulders, a white dot coming to rest and melt on his cheek. “I understand why you’re feeling this way, and it’s expected, but… How do I put this?” 

You watch his eyes. Remus struggles to say anything more. It’s the first time you’ve ever seen a flicker of insecurity on him. He always seems calmly settled, as though he’s thought about the world and found what it is he was looking for in it a long time ago. 

“Just because we think something doesn’t make it true,” he says, hiding his hands in his coat pockets. “You might feel like it was wrong to tell me, but it wasn’t, and you might think you were rude to my friends, but you weren’t. They didn’t have a single bad word to say about you. Not that either of them tend to say anything disparaging about anyone,” he adds as an afterthought. 

“I wish I didn’t tell you, is all.” 

“I’m sorry. I can go on as though you didn’t, if that’s what you want, whatever you want.” 

You look down at your chest, nodding. “Okay.” 

Which isn’t a yes or no to his suggestion, but he doesn’t pull you up on it. “Okay. Are you going to the pharmacy?” 

“I– no. But I did hope to ask you something.” He nods, as if to say, Go on. “It’s about the sex clinic.” 

“What about it?” 

“I don’t really know what it is.” 

Remus looks around the street and then up and down your arms. The jumper you’re wearing is thin, your teeth aching to chatter, and he’s noticed it already. “Do you want to have this conversation over tea, lovely?” he asks.��

“Decaf?” 

“Yes, and biscuits, if you’re interested.” 

You follow Remus up the marginally steep hill that makes up Wilmand Street and enter the pharmacy behind him. It’s wooden front and newspaper clippings give way to the starker insides, where you find Sirius sitting at the front desk. Or rather, sitting on it, corded telephone held between his ear and his shoulder. “Oh, he’s just come in, but he has company. Yeah, he said.” Sirius presses the phone to his shoulder to give you both a small but earnest smile. “Hey, you’ve been snowed on. Turn the heating up before you catch your death.” 

“It’s been caught,” Remus says with a wave. “We’re going to sit in the kitchen. Tell Reg not to interrupt us.” 

Your mouth falls open, but Sirius only salutes his —friend? coworker? “James says he’s giving the phone a sloppy one for you.” 

“Lovely.” Remus laughs brightly, his hand slipping behind your shoulder. “Alright?” he asks. 

You give a nod and continue following him past the inside door to the kitchen you’d sat in before. Remus flicks the kettle on and sits down, forcing you to take his cue and sit opposite of him. 

“Much warmer in here,” he mumbles, stripping out of his coat. “Alright. What did you want to ask me about the sex clinic?” 

“Um… I don’t know. How do I go there?” 

“We’ll make an appointment. It’s not far from the leisure centre, so you can walk, or I can book you a taxi, give you a lift. We'll work something out.”

“And they… won’t mind that I– that I don’t really know what I’m doing?” 

You almost miss the dissatisfied noise he makes over the rising sound of the kettle. “They won’t mind.” 

“Do I have to tell them what happened?” 

“No. I mean, I assume it’s better if they have a clearer picture of the circumstances, but then again, you’re entitled to your privacy. You could just say you’re concerned about your intimate health.” 

“But they’ll ask questions.” 

“Yeah, they will. I know you don’t want to answer them, and that’s okay. You don’t have to answer them. Doctor’s, pharmacists, we just ask about stuff because we have to, but there’s no law that says you have to answer.” 

Now you’ve had time to think about things beyond the aching and the angry horror, a new fear has curdled. “What if he gave me something?” you say under your breath. 

“Then we can get you whatever medicine it is that you need and we can work toward you feeling better again.” His head tips as the kettle clicks. “Did you still want tea?” 

“Yes, please.” 

Remus makes you each a cup of decaf tea, bringing sugar and milk to the table for you to add yourself. 

“We can go now, if you want to.” 

“To the clinic?” you ask. 

Remus nods slowly. “Mm-hm. It’s an emergency.” 

“You’d come with me?” you ask, not breathless, but almost. 

“If you’re okay with it and you want me to, I’ll come with you. It might not be so scary. Or I can ask Lily to take you.” 

It’s not Remus’ fault that the person who assaulted you was a man like he is, but it does sound less intimidating to go with a girl. You’re not sure why. It’s not like he hasn’t been kind since the minute you asked him about confidentiality or that he deserves your distrust, but even sitting in this room with him now talking about the clinic has made you uncomfortable again. “Would she mind?” 

“Lily would love to take you. I know that sounds strange. She wouldn’t love that you need to go, but she wouldn’t want you to go alone if you’re worried about it.” 

“And she’ll go now?” 

Remus pushes your mug toward you. “You have some tea and I'll go and ask James if she’s around.”

“I don’t want to be a burden.” 

“You’re not,” he says. “There’s biscuits in the cupboard, lovely. If you want some, you can help yourself.” 

Things don’t pass that day in much detail after that. When Remus returns ten minutes later, you’ve finished your tea, and Lily is with him. She was on her way here already. She’d be happy to take you to the clinic. 

So you go, and you get checked out, and you submit to their tests and their invasive, well-intentioned questions. Lily takes you to a cafe afterward and buys you a pastry you can’t do more than poke. She takes you home. You feel guilty for not saying thank you in the car, but you can barely speak. A few days later you get a phone call with your results. You take a course of medications. You cry yourself to sleep three days in a row, because, as they’d tested for STDs, they tested for something else, and they’d told you what you‘d already known. 

You’re as pregnant as your home tests said you are. Despite everything, you feel an emotion you hate, and you push it down again. 

—

The door to your flat shakes with a sharp knock. 

You startle and stand, not sure what you’d been thinking, a hole burned into the floor at your feet. You’re in no state to answer the door, wet hair dripping a river down your back and your pajamas old. There’s nothing for it. 

You take the handle into your hand and squeeze. 

Dark-haired Regulus is standing in the hallway. You let the door close just an inch between you. 

“Regulus,” you say, unsure if surprise will help or hinder you. 

“Hello.” 

“How can I…” 

“Remus asked me to check in on you.” 

You’re not sure you like what he’s saying. “How do you know where I live?” 

“Remus didn’t ask me to come to your flat, if that’s what you’re asking.” 

“No, it’s not. I’m confused that you know where I live when I didn’t tell you.” 

He holds a deft hand up in surrender. “I live across the street, I’ve seen you come into the building, and your last name is on the postbox downstairs. I’m not doing anything illegal.” 

Just weird, then. 

“Remus asked me to keep an eye out for you,” he says, “but you haven’t been to the pharmacy, naturally.”

“So your solution was to come to my house?” 

“I don’t think there’s any need to get twitchy.” 

But there is. There is. He might not know what it is, and you might find thinking about it feels like a serrated blade end squeezed in your fist, but there is a need. You don’t want him to be here. It doesn’t matter that he’s small and skinny and has a sweet nose. This is your place to be by yourself, and to have nobody know where you are. This is the locked door. 

He has the sense to soften his bravado. “Sorry. I’ve made you uncomfortable.” 

You try to relax your shoulders. Your ribs ache with the tension. “Please,” you say gently, “tell Remus that I’m alright. Thank you for worrying about me.”

Regulus looks to the stairwell leading to the foyer. “He’s going to Community Support tonight if you want to tell him yourself. I am, too.” He doesn’t look at you again. “See you later,” he says to the stairs. 

 —

You go to Community Support despite yourself.

“Can you forgive me for not flirting with you?” 

You surprise the urge to flinch hard, turning to the voice with a half-smile. Sirius is standing beside you suddenly, your faces reflected in the plexiglass covered notice board just outside of the community hall. “What?” you ask. 

“I don’t mean to be offensive. I haven’t flirted because I thought Remus might have his eye on you, and I don’t want you to think it’s because you’re not beautiful.” 

You have to turn to see him to realise he’s teasing you now to be friendly. “I’d be offended if you did flirt with me,” you say. 

“Marvellous, then I won’t.”

“Remus doesn’t have his eye on me, though. He’s just been giving me pharmaceutical advice, I suppose.” 

“Oh, I see. I thought maybe you’d… Well, never mind. Forget I said anything.”

He’s handsome enough that you’d be shocked if he actually did flirt with you, clear-skinned as his brother, but with a warmer smile, almost mischievous, like he knows something you don’t know and he’ll tell you for the right price. His shoulders are slim, his biceps particularly solid as he crosses his arms over his chest. He notices you noticing and gives a flex, to your laughter. “Like what you see?” he asks. 

“Sorry.” 

“We’re on the rugby team, you know.”

“You and Remus?” 

“As if, Remus doesn’t like sports. He’s more of a walker. James and I are the sportsmen.” 

Sirius didn’t strike you as somebody who plays anything either, but it’s not polite to say. 

“Well, aren’t you coming inside?” he asks. “We could use a face like yours in there tonight. Beautiful girls are great for overall morale.” 

You shake your head. “Don’t think so.” 

“You came all the way here. You could at least come in for a bit of cake or something.” 

“Community support or community kitchen?” you mumble. 

“Everybody gets hungry. The best part of being in a community is making sure nobody goes hungry for long, right?” 

You give him a sideways look. Somehow, someway, you’ve become acquainted with a circle of philanthropists. Normal people aren’t so generous. You’re too tired to be this kind. 

“What kind do you have?” 

“Carrot, red velvet, Victoria sponge, and plain chocolate, I think. Maybe a bit of walnut sponge if Marlene hasn’t mauled the whole thing.” 

You’re not sure you can stomach it, just he’s looking at you so nicely that you want to go in with him. “Okay.” 

“Okay?” he asks. 

“Yeah.” 

Sirius slips a hand behind your back, letting it hover an inch from your skin as he shepherds you through the double doors and into the main hall. It’s far more crowded than it had been on your first visit, a small circle of people already in chairs talking a ways from the crowded food table, pilfered, more sandwiches in hands than hands to hold them, and enough brewed coffee to scent the air. James is immediately noticeable crouching at the table, having pulled a crate of juice boxes from beneath it, laughing about something someone is saying to him —something Remus is saying, the tallest man in the room and somehow completely non-imposing, his voice more colour than sound as he talks. 

It must just be because Remus is attentive. Must be the memory of his nice hand on your shoulder, squeezing, that makes you pay special attention to his shaking. “Is he laughing?” you ask. 

Sirius tunes in quickly. “Yeah. He’s done that since we were kids. He can laugh like normal, but when something really has him it’s like he can’t get the sound out.” He chuckles himself. “Idiots. Come on, let’s get you your slice of cake.” 

You can’t help staring at Remus as Sirius takes you over to him and James. James is so happy to see you he almost loses his glasses. 

“You’re back! I thought my shitty impersonation of a counsellor might’ve scared you off. Don’t want some soup, do you?” 

“Don’t say yes out of pity,” Sirius says. “Nobody ever wants James to make them soup.” 

“You like my soup.” 

“I like Effie’s soup. She makes the best bowl of lemon chicken I’ve ever tasted, and you make a mediocre imitation of her recipe, which is as good as it gets while I’m away.” 

“Effie’s my mother,” James explains, clambering to his feet with the crate of small bottles of juice held to his chest. “Euphemia. And she does make the best lemon chicken soup, but mines just fine! And anyways, tonight I made winter vegetable because all the Christmas veg was 8p and I have a fuckton. It’s delicious. I cut the swede up so thin it melts in your mouth, I got fresh thyme from the garden, little bit of spinach, all of it cooked in a metric ton of butter.” 

Remus snorts softly. He meets your eyes, which has you smiling on automatic. “James is a bit of a soup addict.” 

”I–” You feel hungry for the first time in weeks. “I’d quite like to, uh, try some. If you really don’t mind.” 

James glows, shoving the case of juice onto the refreshment table next to the hot water towers. “Yes. How about toasties, lovely, d’you want a cheese toastie with it? You’ll love it.” He doesn’t wait for an answer. “Anyone else while I’m warming it?” 

Remus meets your eyes again, like you’re sharing a secret. “I’ll have a bowl, Jamie.” 

“Yes.” 

“Alright,” Sirius acquiesces, “and me. And Reg will, too, wherever he’s gone off too. But he won’t have cheese–”

“Just toast, I know.” 

James gets a look on him like he’s found the secrets of the universe. “I’ll make a garlic butter cheese toastie for all of you. Mm?” 

Sirius waves him away. 

Sirius grabs you a slice of cake even as you mumble about the soup and how it’s dessert before dinner. Doesn’t matter, he murmurs back, not worried about why you’ve gone shy, I promised you a slice.

You take an apple juice and follow him to a table. Remus comes with you. He looks sunnier today than the last time you saw him despite ever-cloudy weather. Maybe he’s just a bit golden. Steady, he sits at the table across from you with Sirius taking a seat perpendicular, the three of you three sides to a square, nothing to look at besides your hand squeezed around the handle of a plastic fork. 

“I’m sorry about Regulus,” Remus says. “I didn’t mean for him to visit you at home. He told me you weren’t thrilled about it, and I can’t blame you.” 

“I’m sorry too,” Sirius says, wrinkling his nose. “I have no clue why he did that.” 

“And Regulus would be sorry, he just has a hard time realising when he’s overstepped.”

You nod at the table. “It’s okay. I mean, it did make me uncomfortable, and I– wasn’t super polite to him. I just wasn’t expecting him to be at the door, that’s all. And he said sorry, actually. So it’s forgiven.” 

“Oh.” Sirius perches his hand in his head. “That’s unlike him. He doesn’t tend to be sorry.” 

“Neither do you,” Remus says. 

“It’s a family trait.” 

“Can I save this for after soup?” you ask, shuffling your plate to the side. It’ll be easier to eat your cake when everyone else is eating as well. 

“Course you can,” Sirius says, leaning back in his seat. “But if you don’t eat it, I’ll assume you don’t like me. I’m sensitive like that.” 

Remus rolls his eyes, again gifting you with a great feeling, as though you’re in on a secret with him. He’s wearing an aviator jacket that looks incredibly soft, worn but not tattered, sherpa insides flattened but clean. The sleeves warp as he crosses his arms in front of him on the table and leans forward, conspirator. 

“So, how was your morning? Besides Regulus’ unwelcome intrusion,” he says, almost drawling as Sirius does when he gets that playful look in his eye. 

You’re not sure how to handle these boys. But you want to try. You’re sick of having nobody, of being nobody, even if it’s a little discomfiting sometimes to be with them. “My morning was fine. Tries to get through all my washing but it’s a mountain, so I left it and had a long shower instead.”

“How long is long?” Remus asks. 

“Too long.” 

“Like Remus’, then. I’m a one and done man, wash and go.” Sirius peels forward, “And Remus takes hours. Uses all the hot water.” 

“You live together?” you ask. 

“We did for a bit, didn’t we?” Sirius says. 

“Six very long years,” Remus says. “But I have a flat, and Sirius lives on Wilmand Street now, thank god.” 

“Thank god indeed,” Sirius says, “now I can actually wash my hair on a semi-regular basis.” 

“Can you?” Remus asks. 

“What are you implying?” 

“Only that your hair seems distinctly unwashed lately, don’t worry.” 

“He’s showing off ‘cos you’re here,” Sirius says, smiling despite the accusation as he takes a hand through his hair and pushes it back from his face. “I wash plenty.” 

“Do you? I was almost hoping you’d stopped. Maybe that would explain the weird thing you have going on right here.” Remus scratches his upper lip. 

“Fuck off, you just don’t like a scratchy kiss–”

Remus laughs suddenly. After a moment, it tapers into silence, though his shoulders still shake, and you can hear his laughter in his voice when he says, “That charming thatch of stubble would be the last of my worries if I wanted to kiss you, Sirius.” 

“What’s top of the list then?” 

“The smell, obviously. I’m getting top notes of wet dog and a headier dampness–”

“You sick bastard,” Sirius says, sounding absolutely delighted at his friend's insult. 

“You just need a good wash, is all.” 

You don’t mean to, but you laugh. Giggle, really, entertained by them and shocked a little by the way they snip and snap at each other. You pitch forward, face angled down, eyes tempted to shut completely. Sick bastard, you think, laughing still. 

It only makes you laugh more when Sirius nudges you. “Hey, thought we were getting somewhere,” he murmurs. 

You giggle some more. “Sorry,” you squeeze out eventually. 

“Don’t be. He can take a hit. Even if he’s sensitive,” Remus says.

Sirius sniffs. “I’m not that sensitive. Can’t make a joke anymore without being entirely misrepresented.” 

— 

James’ soup becomes a staple for you over the next couple of days. Community Support is a daily occurrence, though some nights are more popular than others. The weekends are busiest, Friday and Saturday night, but Wednesdays have an uptick you aren’t expecting, sitting at one of the plastic tables with another cup or winter veg soup and a garlic buttered toastie. You blow on melty cheese as James brings the hot plate out to the refreshment table, making it easier to serve the many who want it. He’s gleeful, promising that they’re gonna love it, and then tacking on an amendment that anyone who doesn’t like it is more than welcome to something else from the kitchen. 

With payday for most at midnight Friday, or some time after, it’s the hump of the week that hits hardest. You don’t come for the soup, but some people do, and they can’t be blamed for it; stretching money out isn’t easy. 

Your stomach clenches. Your spoon wobbles in your hand. 

From across the room, Remus sends you a warm smile, a kid in his arms and another at his thigh, chattering away as their mam takes a well-deserved breather by the terracotta sofas. 

The next day is the same. James makes soup and ham sandwiches, ham off the bone, made it himself, and you pick at the crusts at a plastic table. Sirius keeps you company for a bit, and then Remus rags on him until he leaves. They’re both too smiley to believe any animosity. 

On Friday, James isn’t there. 

“Harry’s poorly.” 

“I thought he might’ve had a day off.” 

“He and Lily like the group too much for days off.” Remus scratches a hand through his hair. It’s the most boyish thing he’s ever done in front of you. “Are you liking it here? You haven’t missed a day all week.” 

“James makes a good soup.” 

“He left plenty, if you want it.” 

You’re not sure you can stomach it. You give a small shake of your head. “Will Harry be okay?” 

“Fine. He gets ear infections, James used to get them too, even when we were teenagers. He’s on antibiotics already, it’s just the crying that’s the worst. Makes him sick.” Remus smiles sympathetically. “Makes James sick, too. But they’ll be okay.” 

“That’s good. It’s too quiet here when James isn’t around.” 

The hall is practically silent. There are a few people milling around on the sofas and another handful drinking tea by the refreshment table. Mary is patting a crying woman with pink hair on the back. A two year old sits at her feet, staring up at her sullenly. 

“I could go turn on the radio.” 

You perch your chin in your palm, elbow on the table. Tired today. “That’s okay. It’s nice.” Quiet, but not lonely. 

“You feeling okay?” he asks. 

“Yeah.” You fight the urge to let your eyes shutter closed. “I’m okay. You okay?” 

“I’m great. I’m really glad you’ve been coming. I know you don’t stay for group therapy, and you don’t have to, but… I don’t know, I think it’s just good to be around people.” 

You feel like he meant to say a particular but dodged it at the last second. He hesitated. 

He said he wouldn’t bring it up if you didn’t want him to, but maybe you do, just so you know it was real, and bad. It was awful, wasn’t it? 

“I don’t like being alone,” you confess, scratching the back of your neck. “For a while…” You scratch scratch scratch, sounds of your nails over skin, then let your hand drop with a thump against your thigh. “I wanted to be alone. But now when I’m home by myself I feel awful.” 

“It’s normal to want company.” 

“Even after what happened?” 

“Especially after what happened. I think the stereotype is that people… experience something bad, and that they retreat into themselves, and that’s based on a real process of emotions,” —he talks quietly but surely, without a lick of condescension— “and a real sort of phenomena. Everybody needs time to lick their wounds, to put it heavily. But it makes sense that you’d seek out company when you’ve just had a really, really horrible thing happen.” 

You did retreat into yourself at first. Wasting days away in bed without an appetite, crying yourself sick and to sleep, hating yourself and the world and him, because it hurt so badly. But then you didn’t get your period when you were expecting it and it was like holding the times of a fork to a plug socket, a nasty shock flaring through your entire body from the tips of your fingers. And now you have decisions to make and a life to live after, it’s happening now, quickly. You aren’t feeling any better than you were that morning when you first woke up and realised you’d been attacked without fully knowing, but time is moving forward regardless. You don’t know why you crave other people, but you do. You like seeing Remus every night, even if he only talks to you once or twice. You like eating James’ home cooked food, like watching Sirius and Regulus bicker as they lean against one another, and you like seeing Lily press her nose to her baby’s. You wonder what that feels like. How soft is a small nose? What does it feel like to hold the person you made out of love and a little bit of every part of you in two hands? 

You’re still so lonely it’s palpable. There are moments throughout the day where you can’t face it head on, but the support group is genuinely helping, if it’s just to spend an hour outside of your head. 

Lonely, and with nobody to confide in. 

Remus watches you think for a while. He’s waiting patiently for you to speak again. 

“Can I tell you something stupid?” you ask softly. 

“Sure.” 

“Don’t laugh at me.” 

“I doubt I could.” 

You let out a deep sigh. He’s all browns tonight in his old jacket. Brown hair, brown eyes, brown jacket. “I was thinking about keeping the baby. I don’t know if you’d consider it a baby right now,” you murmur, staring at the corner of his mouth, “but I think I want it to be one. And I can’t stop thinking that it’s a bad idea.” 

“It’s your decision,” Remus says. When you sigh, he looks chastened, and you hadn’t wanted it to be a chastening. He clears his throat. “You already know that, don’t you?” Not expecting an answer, he leans back in his chair and levels you with a smile more friendly than you deserve. “Keep your baby if you want to, lovely. The point of– Well, of having the choice, is being allowed to choose yes, to choose to keep your baby, even if it’s a bad idea. Or looks like one.”

“I know, but…” 

But it’s a bad idea. But it happened because somebody hurt you. But you’re completely alone.

“I’m not upsetting you, am I?” he asks. 

“No, you’re not. You’ve been really nice to me,” you mumble, letting your aching eyes close as you lean into your hand. “It’s not you.” 

Remus settles for a few seconds. “Can I put my arm around you?” he asks finally. 

“Okay.” 

So he does. His voice drops to match your own, his elbow right between your ribs as his thumb skirts across the top of your shoulder, “I’m sorry I can’t fix it for you, I wish I could tell you what to do that’s going to make you the happiest. I can’t, though.”

“I know.” 

He rubs your shoulder. “I know you know.” 

There’s a lot to think about. You aren’t pregnant by a miracle. Something bad happened to you, and the choice is yours now to take, and no one would blame you for wanting to forget the whole thing. At least, nobody here at the support group would. It’s not like you haven’t thought about it; lately, it’s the only thing on your mind. But the guilt of wanting it won’t go away. 

“Sorry you have to do this again,” you mumble. 

“What, give you a hug?” Remus’ voice turns softer. It feels less like the kind words of a stranger and more like a friend. “I don’t mind it.” 

You try to stop feeling guilty. The most you can be right now is looked after, at least for a while, for as long as Remus will hold your shoulders. 

“It’s not your fault,” Remus says. “You know that, too, I’m guessing. What happened to you wasn’t your fault.” 

You’re not so sure. It’s a different guilt to look at in whatever light finds you when it happens. “I know,” you say, half a lie. 

“And I know you have no reason to trust us with something so huge, but we’re here for you. That’s the whole point of the group.” 

You sigh heavily. “I know,” you say under your breath. You’re just not sure it’s going to be enough.

𖦹

hi thanks for reading the first part! this is a heavy one but it’s also a fic I’ve wanted to write for a long time, or rewrite <\3 some of you may have read my first go at this years ago and I’m hoping to tie in some of the old stuff but it’s also its own story hopefully, it’s shaping up well! 

https://rapecrisis.org.uk rape crisis UK — they have a support line! and many many articles

information about rape crisis https://247sexualabusesupport.org.uk/faqs/

[lqveharrington]

Perfect Replacement | R.L.

summary: Remus begins to worry about your well-being after seeing you act much differently than before.

pairing: remus lupin x Black Family!reader

includes: use of Y/N, mentions of abuse (both mental and physical), unfair treatment, bullying, cursing, allusions to receiving the dark mark, burning out, angst, smallest bit of fluff (lmk if i missed any!)

a/n: lowkey, this one was sad and requested by someone a while ago… i’m swamped with my own school work so this was a little vent fic for me :)

From the moment you were born, Orion and Walburga knew what you were meant to be—what you would always be known as. You were the Black Family’s spare. If Sirius or Regulus was injured in a way magic wasn’t enough to heal them, you were the person they tore open to find missing parts. You were nothing but a tool.

Worst of all, they refused to recognize you as even part of their family. What they wanted was a male heir and—being the first born before Sirius by mere minutes—you ruined their lives. Sure, the legacy would’ve still been able to continue with Sirius, but Walburga and Orion were furious when they saw a girl be born into the Black Family.

It was always your fate to be their spare.

When you were old enough to attended Hogwarts, they were quick to dismiss your presence. You were no longer theirs to care for as long as you stayed there. Hell, they even called Sirius—who was sorted in Gryffindor—back for holiday while you—who was sorted into Slytherin—stayed at Hogwarts with the school's staff.

However, they learned that Sirius was no longer fit to be the heir of the Black family. So they did what they did best—throw you into the deep end with no safety. Instead of letting Sirius get away with his stupidity, you were to take over his responsibilities until Regulus was suited to become the heir.

You were constantly watched to ensure perfection. It didn't matter if you were the top of your class or not—you had to maintain the role of the perfect heir. The useless heir. Coming home every summer just to be scolded at was never ideal, but you tried. You pushed through all the extracurriculars until you couldn't feel the weight of pressure on you anymore. You just kept going.

You kept pushing and pushing until the worst thing happened at home.

Sirius left. He left you and Regulus with your wretched parents. He left you with more scars than you could count that you swore he didn't care much for you either. It truly was you against the entire Black family—with little help from Regulus whenever he wasn't being trained to be the Black family heir.

“Letter from mother.” Regulus tossed the cream envelope in your direction, unaware of how closed off and fragile you became since Sirius left.

You peeled the envelope open and did a quick scan of the letter, humming at the usual demands from you. Nothing new. “I need to go study, Reg. I’ll see you later."

“You'll come find me for lunch, right?” He grabbed your wrist like he would when he was younger, alarmed that his whole hand could wrap around the joint with ease.

“I need to study for my NEWTs.” You give him the best smile you could muster, making your steps quick as you left the Great Hall. You loved your younger brother, but your parents would have your head if they found out you were talking to him rather than studying for your final exams.

You swiftly looped around the castle corridors—potions, charms, and transfiguration textbooks in arm as you made your way toward the astronomy tower. No matter how many times you’ve studied in Hogwarts’ library, you found it easier to work in the tower. The library was filled with all kinds of students—even the ones who weren't there to study.

Just as you made a sharp turn to the tower stairs, you slammed into someone more than half your size—all your books and parchment scattering to the floor. Immediately, you apologized and rushed to grab the papers and books, face warm with embarrassment when the person handed you your quill your cousin Narcissa bought you.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to bump into you.” You clutch the books tighter to your chest and move around the figure, unaware that it was one of Sirius’ friends.

The one who watched you were a careful eye since you hopped onto the stool with a worried look in first year.

The Marauders were scattered about their dorm. Peter was munching on some kind of bread, Sirius was hanging upside down in his bed, and James was on his usual session about how Lily was the most perfect girl when Remus walked in with an unreadable expression.

James slowly came to a stop before tilting his head at the lanky boy, tossing a pillow in his direction. 'What happened at the library, Moony? Madam Pince refused to let you check out anymore books?"

Remus ignored James and caught the pillow with a swipe of his hand—his attention only on the curly-haired boy in front of him. "Padfoot, do you know what's going on with your sister? She looks like she might be ill.”

Sirius froze at the mention of you, ultimately falling from his spot on the bed. He rarely saw you back at home that he didn't know anything about you anymore. At least, not as much as he knew about Regulus.

“I… I don’t know.” He admitted and ran his fingers through his hair in guilt.

“You don’t know?” Remus repeated in disbelief. He didn't think that when Sirius left, he would forget all about his twin sister. She looked exactly like him—only now, she looked like she could break with one wrong touch. "She could be seriously sick—"

"Look, I'll get Regulus to ask her what's wrong." Sirius crossed his legs and frowned when Remus still looked unhappy. "What?"

"We both know you won't willingly talk to your brother." He said and stood from his spot, mind running through different scenarios as to why you looked so malnourished—why you were so malnourished.

Sirius narrowed his eyes at his best mate, "Why do you care so much about my sister?"

"Why don't you care more?" Remus scoffed and left the dorm, leaving the rest of the Marauders confused with his sudden interest in the Black's eldest child.

Though Remus cared little for the Black family, he knew you never wronged anyone. In fact, he believed you were Sirius' foil. When Sirius was off pranking someone with James, you were always studying for your next class. When you weren't studying, he found you speaking quietly with Regulus in the Great Hall. You were so quiet and reserved that Remus refused to believe you were Sirius' twin for so long.

He rarely spoke to you, but he knew something was definitely wrong. And he would get to the bottom of the issue.

“Miss Black, you need to take care of yourself. Your brother is concerned for you—“

“He should not be concerned for my wellbeing. Instead, he should be concerned about his grades in Care for Magical Creatures.” You huff and push away Madam Pomfrey’s wand from your arm, tugging your robes over your body in a rushed manner. “I am perfectly fine and need to get back to my studies before the night takes away all the light.”

You leave the hospital wing and glance at your watch, silently cursing yourself for wasting precious time on a silly check up Regulus insisted you get. Although—you had to admit— you were too exhausted to make the trek up the astronomy tower to study. So instead, you made your way toward the library instead, the candles in the corridors lighting your path to the quiet space ahead.

Finding an open table, you get to work as quickly as you can. You flip open you defense against the dark arts textbook and begin your studies, hands shaking and eyes blurring with how exhausted you were. Willing yourself to push on, you started to mutter the words you read, unaware of the brown-haired boy looming beside you.

“You’re not casting a spell, are you?” A voice spoke from your right, causing you to jerk in surprise.

Lifting your head up from the book, you meet warm, brown eyes, the feeling spreading across your chest before you pulled your attention toward the book once more. You couldn’t get distracted, not when you were running out of time before the holidays.

“No.” You answer truthfully before continuing to mutter about the three unforgiving curses, each one worse than the last. You’ve encountered two out of three of them and you prayed you never had to witness the last.

Right as you went to turn the page, the person moved to sit in front of you—your eye twitching in irritation. This was your spot for the rest of the evening and you would like to not be distracted by… whoever this person was.

Huffing, you flip the page in frustration and speak once more. This time with annoyance. “I’m sorry, but I’m trying to study for—“

“I see that.” The mysterious figure pulled out his own book, raising his brows when you nearly looked up from your book to see what he was reading. So close. “I’m here to merely observe. You are the top of our graduating class.”

“Incorrect.” You keep a shaky finger on the last word you left off on, finally taking a proper look at the boy who decided to distract you. “I’m tied with…”

“You don’t want a tie?” Remus rested his head in his palm, hiding a small grin at your shocked expression.

You swallow thickly before going back to your book, refusing to acknowledge his presence for the rest of the time. It wasn’t like you were intimidated or embarrassed by the boy. You were just confused and stunned by him. Why was he suddenly interested in you when he stuck so close to your twin? Perhaps your mother or father sent him as a spy—but he was a half-blood, so you doubted that was the reason.

Remus sighed and began to read Jane Eyre, occasionally glancing in your direction. He noted that you were still here mentally—well, as far as a mere five minute interaction goes—but your physique seemed way off. Though you weren’t as tall as your brothers, you were a hell lot paler and way too ill-fed to even look remotely related to them.

By the time Madam Pince kicked the both of you out, Remus memorized the way you looked and stored it for later data. He thought that you would snap under the weight of all the textbooks and parchment you were carrying. He also swore you memorized each of the textbooks—catching you repeatedly murmur the different facts you learned over your hours of studying.

But as Remus went to turn toward the Great Hall, you continued to go straight down the corridor—worrying him. “Black, you’re not coming to have dinner?”

You stop walking and hesitate before settling on your normal excuse. “I’m not hungry.”

“You studied for over two hours. Surely a snack or even just water—“

“Lupin, I’m fine. I don’t need—“

Before you could even finish your sentence, a familiar voice rang out clearly. A voice you haven’t heard since he left you all alone.

“Moony! There you are! We’ve been looking for you.”Sirius clapped Remus on the back, unaware of your presence. He never truly acknowledged your being—you assumed he learned it from your mother and father. “Where were you?”

Remus’ eyes darted in your direction after the initial surprise from Sirius faded, but you were already fleeting down the hall—Mary Jane’s echoing with each step.

“Just…” He paused and shook his head, directing his attention back to the younger Black sibling and following him into the Great Hall. “Studying.”

Unfortunately for you, it became Remus' habit to constantly be around you when studying. No matter where you went to study—whether it was the damn astronomy tower or back of the library—he found you. It became impossible to hide from him and you knew you were losing valuable time studying if you spoke to him.

So you just stopped.

"I brought chocolate today." Remus spoke, finding you by the edge of the Black Lake. "A piece offering."

Your eyes briefly flickered up to meet his and glanced at the chocolate, but you immediately fell back into reading, making him frown. You were frustrating him just a tad bit. It was the day before holiday break and you decided to spend your time on the freezing grounds studying than inside with a cup of hot tea doing something else—he wasn't even close to figuring anything about you.

You were just a ghost of a person.

“Lupin, I can’t focus.” You whisper as you felt his gaze on you, frustratedly reading the same line over and over again.

Remus muttered a quick apology and went back to War and Peace. But he couldn't focus. All he could focus on was the sound of you shaking underneath all the layers of clothes you had on. He pursed his lips and sighed, removing his own overcoat and draping it over you.

Freezing at the sudden warmth enveloping your figure, you meet his brown eyes and give him a smile that could be noted as a grimace. "Thanks..."

He hummed and took a bite out of his chocolate, letting you read for a couple more minutes before speaking once more. "Do you plan on studying over the holidays as well?"

Your tongue poked the inside of your cheek. Were you going to spend your entire holiday studying? "Depends on mother and father. They might coupe me up in my room and make me study all holiday. Or they may decide to finally let me join in opening gifts with Regulus—not like I'll get anything."

It took you a second to realize what you said to the boy sitting beside you. Honestly, you didn't know what he was doing to you.

Remus' eyes narrowed at your confession the second you covered your mouth with a shaking hand. You were never supposed to talk ill about your parents or you family—especially not to some… to a Gryffindor and half-blood!

“I-I have to go.” You stutter and quickly gather your things, rushing back into the castle without another glace toward Remus.

When you came back from the holidays, you looked even worse than before. Remus took one look at you and knew something went down back at the Black house. Although you did look more fed then most days, the circles underneath your eyes were more prominent and instead of rolling up your sweaters like usual, you wore them normally.

What happened?

But Remus wasn't the only one to notice the changes. For once, Regulus noted the changes in your demeanor. Rather than using your time to study for charms or transfiguration, you began to read books on the dark arts. The textbooks that once belonged to Bellatrix were passed down to you, causing Regulus to do his own digging into your sudden change of studies.

“What're you reading Trimbles' book for?” Regulus asked quietly as you pushed food around your plate, gaze locked on the ink in the book. "Did Bella get through to you about the dark arts?"

You subconsciously touch your left arm and bite your tongue. You could say it was your cousin's fault for she was the one to suggest you become one of them anyway. Yet you would never speak ill about her—you supposed it was her way of showing she cared for you.

"No, it's just interesting."' You clear your throat and stand from your spot. "Finish breakfast, I'll see you later."

"You didn't touch anything on your plate." Regulus frowned and stood up as well, following close behind and grabbing your left arm. "What are you hiding from me?"

You winced and quickly pulled away, "Nothing, Reg, leave me be."

"I can't do that! You're my sister and I care about you—"

Quickly finding your way out of a conversation you didn't want to have, you weaved your way in between the Gryffindor boys that deemed themselves as the Marauders, subconsciously grabbing Remus' hand and dragging him with you.

“Hey���!” Sirius gaped at his best friend being stolen from him, earning a glare from his younger brother.

“Fuck off, Sirius. Something’s wrong.” Regulus quickly spat out and chased after you and the lanky boy.

Sirius' eyebrows knitted together before letting out a loud sigh, following his brother to wherever you were taking Remus. After all the time he spent away, you and Regulus were still important to him—even if he rarely showed it.

"What's happening?" Remus stumbled into an empty classroom and glanced at your heavy breathing figure, face twisting in confusion as you leaned back on the wooden door in exhaustion. "Why were you running?"

"I didn't mean to pull you with me." You rub your face and wander over to a desk, sitting in the chair as your thoughts swallowed your mind. "I just needed an escape from Regulus. He can be nosy."

Still confused, Remus simply nodded and sat at the desk opposite of you, wincing when he heard Sirius' shouting from outside the class. You let out a quiet laugh at your brothers' bickering before those laughs quickly turned into quiet sobs, shoulders shaking from the weight of emotions packed into each one.

"Oh." Remus murmured and patted his pockets down, taking a bar of chocolate and snapping a piece off. “Eat, it’ll make you feel better.”

You wipe your tears and look down at the chocolate, your stomach growling at the lack of food you’ve eaten today. Sniffling, you take the chocolate and nibble on it, unaware of Remus’ smile.

“Better?” He asked softly, biting into the chocolate himself.

There wasn’t an answer from you, but he knew it helped somewhat—your tears subsided and all that could be heard was your occasional sniffling and hiccups.

Remus had so many questions he wanted to ask you yet he knew it wasn’t his place. Though only one really stuck out to him.

“Why did you bring me here?”

You purse your lips and fiddle with the loose strings on your sweater, refusing to meet his eyes.

“I don’t know.” You say truthfully. But before Remus could say anything else, you continued—eyes shut because to you, the confession was quite embarrassing. “Maybe I just got used to you always being there and I…” You drop your head into your hands and sigh loudly, “I trust you more than my whole family.”

He raised his brows but made no effort to say anything else—knowing you had more to say.

“You care for me in a way my siblings will never understand.” You murmur and peek between your fingers to find him slouched over to hear you clearly. “I can’t… I can’t tell you anything about what happened at home.” He opened his mouth to protest but you stopped him. “But I’ll consider keeping the odd friendship you chose to start.”

Remus narrowed his eyes at you and—for a brief moment—he wanted to refuse. He wanted to know what was happening, why you were more conscious about how you dressed. Yet he couldn’t find himself wanting to object your offer. If he could keep a close eye on you like this, so be it.

“You’ll tell me in due time, alright?” Remus gave you the rest of his chocolate bar, noticing the way you tugged your sleeve down once more.

“If it’s fitting by then.” You give him a weak smile. “Besides, I think I can still be the top of the class without you. After all, I am the perfect replacement.”

©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms

[unconventional-lawnchair]

Good boy, Pads

Poly!Marauders x Reader {Mostly Padfoot x Reader}

Summary: Walking home alone is always scary. Not so bad with an attack dog.

WC: ~2.2k

CW: Being followed, Walking home alone, panic, reader is almost attacked

Part two {Masterlist}

“Goodnight, all!" You called over your shoulder, pushing through the heavy diner door and stepping into the crisp London night. The warm light from inside spilled onto the sidewalk for just a moment before the door swung shut, leaving you in the soft glow of streetlamps and the quiet hum of a city winding down.

Bundled up against the sharp autumn chill, you tugged your scarf higher over your nose, the wool muffling your breath as you glanced both ways down the street. The pavement glistened faintly from an earlier rain, and leaves skittered across the ground, carried by a gentle breeze. You smiled to yourself, enjoying the solitude of the evening and the faint scent of damp earth and fading smoke in the air.

The city felt quieter tonight, slower. A rare calm that let you notice the little things: the way your boots tapped against the pavement, the golden glow of light spilling from a pub window, the soft rustle of branches as the breeze carried more leaves to the ground. You couldn’t help but savor the peacefulness, the way the streets felt like they belonged only to you.

Turning onto a quieter side street, you pulled your coat tighter around you and let out a content sigh. The distant hum of a car engine and the occasional clink of bottles from an alley gave the city its usual heartbeat, steady and familiar. But as you passed under a flickering streetlight, the warmth in your chest faltered.

A flicker of something- movement- caught the corner of your eye. You stopped for a moment, glancing behind you. The street was empty, save for the faint shimmer of rain on the asphalt. You let out a quiet laugh at yourself, shaking your head as you started walking again. "You're imagining things," you muttered, the words misting into the cold air.

But as you rounded another corner, the feeling crept back. A weight you couldn’t explain settled between your shoulder blades, pressing until you glanced back again. This time, the street didn’t feel so empty.

A figure stood at the edge of the light, a shadow against the dim glow of a streetlamp. Hood pulled low, shoulders hunched. You couldn’t see his face, but the sight was enough to quicken your pulse.

You turned back quickly, trying to shake off the growing unease. It’s nothing. Just someone walking home, like you. Still, your steps grew faster, the sound of your boots sharper now as they echoed down the street.

The figure’s pace quickened too.

Your heart thundered in your chest, your breath puffing in the cold as you resisted the urge to turn around again. Don’t look back. Just keep walking. But the sound of his footsteps- deliberate, steady, too close- sent panic thrumming through you.

You turned sharply onto another street, one that was darker and quieter, hoping to lose him in the maze of side roads. But the sound of his steps followed, unyielding.

The knot in your stomach tightened as you risked a glance over your shoulder. The figure was closer now, his face still obscured, his movements calm and measured, as though he knew there was no need to rush.

You kept promising yourself it was all in your head. Every rationalization you’d ever heard about nights like this ran through your mind. He’s just trying to get home. You’re overthinking it. You’re being dramatic. The words looped, each one louder than the growing knot of fear in your chest.

In some lapse of judgment- or sheer stubbornness- you forced yourself to slow down, determined to prove your paranoia wrong. Your footsteps softened, your breath puffing out in measured exhales. See? Nothing’s wrong.

But the figure didn’t slow. His pace stayed steady, deliberate, and for a heartbeat, your stomach clenched.

Then, he walked right past you.

Your breath left you in a rush, relief crashing through you as you watched him slip into an alley just a few yards ahead, his dark silhouette disappearing into the shadows.

You’re so bloody dramatic, You scolded yourself, shaking your head as you tried to laugh off the tension still clinging to your spine.

Your legs felt heavy as you started walking again, still shaking off the tension that clung to you like the autumn chill. The sound of your boots echoed faintly against the damp pavement, the streetlights casting long shadows that seemed to stretch further with each step.

You’re fine. You’re fine. The mantra pulsed in your head, soothing your nerves just enough to keep moving forward.

But as you passed the mouth of the alley, a sharp sound- the scrape of a boot against concrete- made your heart stutter.

Before you could fully process it, the figure stepped out of the alley, sharp and purposeful. He moved with a predator’s focus, his hood still pulled low, but his intent painfully clear as he strode toward you.

Your body froze, fear locking every muscle in place as your breath hitched painfully in your throat. Your mind screamed at you to move, to run, to do anything- but before you could even find your voice-

A deep, guttural snarl tore through the night behind you, vibrating through the air like a clap of thunder.

You stumbled backward, your knees nearly buckling as something massive pressed between them with startling force. Looking down, your breath caught again.

A black dog- no, something far larger than any dog you’d ever seen- stood between your legs, its massive head low and its body tense, muscles rippling under its sleek fur. Its glowing eyes locked on the man in front of you, and its lips curled back in a snarl, revealing sharp, gleaming teeth. The beast exuded menace, an attack dog waiting for the signal to strike.

You didn’t dare move. The sheer size of it, the raw power in its stance, and the intensity of its focus made you feel as though the tiniest twitch would snap the tension in the air.

The black dog let out another terrifying snarl, its teeth snapping together with a ferocity that echoed in the quiet street. The man in front of you stumbled back a step, his hands flying up defensively as if the gesture could ward off the beast.

The force of the dog's lunge had nearly sent you sprawling, but you instinctively clung to its thick black collar, fingers curling around the studded leather as if it were a lifeline. Its massive frame remained steady beneath you, grounding you in a moment that felt anything but stable.

“Easy, easy,” You whispered, your voice trembling as you tried to calm your racing heart. It was ridiculous, you realized, trying to reason with a creature that clearly wasn’t just an ordinary dog.

The dog didn’t flinch at your voice, its glowing eyes locked on the man with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. Slowly, the man began to retreat, his movements jerky and hesitant as he kept his gaze darting between you and the snarling beast.

“I- I wasn’t doing anything!” He stammered, his voice shaking as he took another step back.

The dog lunged again, snapping its jaws just short of the man’s retreating figure. The motion was controlled, calculated- a warning that left no room for doubt about what would happen if he didn’t leave.

The man’s nerve broke. With a muttered curse, he turned and bolted down the street, his footsteps echoing in the stillness until they faded completely.

The dog didn’t move for a long moment, its body still taut, ears pinned back as it watched the man disappear into the night. Only when it was satisfied he wasn’t returning did it finally relax, its snarling lips settling back over sharp teeth.

The air around you hung heavy with tension, your trembling fingers still clinging to the black dog’s studded collar. Its massive form didn’t waver, muscles coiled tight as its glowing eyes remained fixed on the direction the man had fled. You could feel the sheer power radiating off of it, its focus terrifying, its snarling lips now pressed firmly together.

Just as you began to catch your breath, a calm voice- low, steady, unfamiliar- broke through the night.

“Padfoot, heel.”

Your head snapped toward the sound, and from the shadows stepped a tall man, his figure shrouded in the dim glow of a nearby streetlamp. He moved with quiet confidence, his amber eyes soft yet sharp as they flicked from the dog to you. His presence was both reassuring and unnerving, as though he had always been there, watching from the edges.

The dog didn’t immediately obey, its ears twitching at the command but its gaze still locked down the street. A moment of silence stretched between the man, the beast, and you.

Then, another voice rang out, softer, almost playful. “You did good, mate. It’s okay now- she’s safe.”

The second figure emerged from the opposite side of the street, his dark hair catching the faint light that his glasses reflected- as he strolled closer with a casual ease. His hazel eyes glinted with sympathy, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he approached.

“Padfoot,” The second man coaxed, his tone softer now, almost affectionate. “Come on, you’ve scared him off. Time to let the lady breathe, yeah?”

The black dog- Padfoot?- finally relaxed, its tension melting away as it let out a low huff, almost as if in reluctant agreement. With one last glance down the empty street, it turned toward you, pressing its massive head against your thigh in an almost protective gesture.

The motion nearly knocked you off balance again, but you steadied yourself, your fingers still curled around the thick collar. You glanced between the two men, your mind racing to make sense of what was happening.

“What- what is this? Who are you?” You asked, your voice unsteady but edging toward firm. Still trying to calm down from the earlier events.

The first man, the one with warm amber eyes, stepped closer, his gaze flickering briefly to the dog before settling on you. “We’re just here to make sure you got home safely,” He said gently, his tone soothing.

“This… thing?” You asked, nodding toward the dog, though you couldn’t bring yourself to let go of its collar.

“Not a thing,” The second man interjected, his grin widening as he crouched next to the dog, running a hand through its fur. “This is Padfoot. And he did bloody brilliant, if I do say so myself.”

As if understanding the compliment, the dog let out a soft woof, its tail giving a single thump against the pavement.

The man looked up at you, his hazel eyes twinkling. “And I’m James, by the way. This,” He gestured to the amber-eyed man, “is Remus. We didn't mean to scare you, but thought a bit too quickly.”

The boys seemed to sense your lingering unease, their expressions softening as they exchanged a glance. Remus stepped forward slightly, his calm demeanor grounding the strange tension still hanging in the air.

“We’ll let you head home now,” he said gently, his voice low and soothing. “But if it makes you feel safer, Padfoot can walk with you. He’ll stay by your side until you’re safely inside.”

You glanced down at the massive black dog, still pressed protectively against your leg. His glowing eyes had softened, but the quiet strength in his stance told you he wasn’t going anywhere until you were safe. “He’ll… come back to you?” you asked hesitantly, your voice quiet.

James stepped closer, offering a warm, reassuring smile. “Always,” he said. “Just tell him to go, and he’ll know where to find us. He’s got a knack for it.”

You bit your lip, torn between wanting to dismiss their offer and the lingering unease that crept up your spine. The thought of walking home alone again made your stomach twist, and the steady presence of the dog at your side was a strange but undeniable comfort.

Remus’s amber eyes met yours, steady and kind. “You’re safe with him,” he murmured. “Padfoot won’t let anything happen to you.”

The dog huffed softly, as if to emphasize the point, and you felt a small, tentative smile tug at your lips despite the lingering fear. Slowly, you nodded. “Alright. I’ll take him. Just… until I’m home.”

James’s grin widened, a glint of relief in his hazel eyes. “Smart choice,” he said lightly, his tone warm but not overbearing.

Remus nodded, taking a step back toward the shadows. “Just keep him close. And when you’re inside, tell him to go. He’ll find us.”

Your gaze lingered on the two of them for a moment before you glanced down at the dog again. “Padfoot,” you murmured softly, testing the name. His ears perked up at the sound, his massive body shifting slightly closer to you as if ready to move.

James gave a small wave as he began to follow Remus into the shadows. “Take care, love. You’re in good hands- well, paws.”

You let out a shaky laugh, the tension in your chest loosening slightly as you turned to continue your walk. The dog- Padfoot- stayed close to your side, his presence a silent but steady comfort. Each step felt lighter, the earlier fear ebbing away with every reassuring glance at the hulking figure beside you.

The streets still held their eerie quiet, but you didn’t feel so alone anymore. London was still beautiful.

[mallowsweetmiri]

Potter!Reader x Remus

Summary: after weeks of having a painful crush on your brothers best friend, you make a plan to seduce him.

Warnings: smutty and slutty

Word count: 6k

—————————————————————————

You groaned into your pillow, wiping the sweat from your forehead into the cotton fabric. This was the second time this week you'd woken up sweating from a dream about Remus Lupin, and it troubled you deeply that the scenarios you imagined would never happen. For one, your brother would instantly shut you down if you even suggested going out with any boy, let alone his best mate. The more unfortunate part was that you were almost certain Remus saw you as nothing more than James' little sister, a title you were tired of carrying. You huffed again as you rose to start getting ready. How much longer could this crush go on? It had started on the train in September. You remember thinking to yourself that Remus had become quite good looking over the summer and left it at that. But soon, he started to catch your eyes in the hallways, then in the common room, until finally he had managed his way into your head. You were constantly thinking about him. Thinking about the glimpses of his chest you'd caught one time when his shirt was unbuttoned, thinking about the way his adam's apple moved in his throat, thinking about his hands...

You shook your head and stepped into the shower. If only you could know what he felt like, then maybe this incessant urge to be with him would go away. You felt the water fall down your back as you washed yourself up. You were a pretty girl, you knew this. If you were someone else, had a different last name, maybe you'd have a chance. Although, you'd never really tried before. You kept these thoughts to yourself, having nobody to talk to them about. Normally you would tell James everything, and he would usually play parent when it came to your school girl crushes. But you couldn't exactly go up to James and say, "Hey, do you think you could set me up with Remus? Y'know, your best mate? I really want to see what he looks like with his clothes off." No, you couldn't do that. But perhaps you wouldn't have to...

You stepped out of the shower feeling confident in your plan. You had spent all this time pining in silence over Remus, it was time for action. While you got ready, you made subtle changes. You hiked your skirt up just a little and slipped into the button down that was just a touch too small. When you did your makeup, you were sure to make your lips look extra lush and rosy. You put on your favorite perfume, the one you saved for special occasions. This seemed as good a day as any.

"There she is," James smiled and stood as you came down the stairs to the common room.

"Good morning, Jamie," you chimed, "were you waiting on me?" James laughed as he grabbed his bag off the floor, the two of you heading through to the portrait hole.

"I'm always waiting for you," James nudged you with his shoulder. "You look nice today." You raised your brow at him, his statement more of a question as if to ask "Is there a reason you're making an effort?"

"Thanks," was all you replied as you made your way to breakfast.

PHASE 1: Hook

When you got there, the other marauders were already sat down. Sirius was talking animatedly with Peter as Remus sat quietly reviewing notes.

"We've finally arrived," James said to no one in particular, taking a seat and immediately filling his plate. Remus look up from his book and mumbled something before delving back into his work. You sat next to James and made a bowl of porridge, listening to Sirius boast about the Quidditch match tomorrow.

"Ravenclaw is going to destroy Slytherin," he bellowed, thumping his fist on the table. "And then I am going to destroy a bottle of Firewhiskey in their common room." He smirked, earning and high five from James.

"That's the spirit, Pads," James cheered, taking a drink from his cup. You rolled your eyes and stirred your oats.

"I don't know how the two of you haven't died from overconsumption yet," you quipped, spooning sugar into your bowl.

"Genuinely," Remus added, looking up from his book, "you two are menaces." You hummed in agreement, bringing the spoon to your mouth to lick the extra sugar off. You caught Remus watching from your peripherals and made a show of it, bringing your glossed lips together at the tip of the spoon. When you glanced up thoughtfully through your lashes, he was still watching. It made you chuckle as his eyes quickly averted back to his book. Baited.

"Are you coming tomorrow, Y/N?" Peter asked, shoving toast into his mouth. You swallowed your porridge and swore that Remus' ears seemed to shift at the question.

"Y/N never comes to quidditch parties," James pouted, turning to look at you. You rolled your eyes.

"Correction, I never come to your quidditch parties," you teased, poking a finger into his shoulder. "I'll probably go tomorrow to see Pandora. If Ravenclaw wins," you reminded them. Sirius grumbled something but you couldn't tell what he was saying through his mouthful of sausage. James' face lit up with excitement.

"Ooh! Sibling bonding time," he gushed cheesily, squeezing your cheeks. Oh, for fucks sake. Could he stop? You were doing everything in your power not to be seen as his bloody little sister and he was ruining all your efforts.

"Okay, that's enough. I'm going to class," you grumbled, trying to hide your annoyance in front of Remus. The boys chuckled as you gathered your things and got up from your seat. If James was going to be a tosser, you'd have to up your game.

"Oops," you said innocently as you dropped your book on the ground, loud enough to make a clatter. You bent over to pick it up, praying that James was currently not watching.

"Merlin, Y/N. Pull your bloody skirt down," James scolded, making a foul face. You rolled your eyes at him again and stuck your tongue out as you continued to exit the hall. Well, if Remus hadn't been looking before, he surely was now.

PHASE 2: Line

You were more than excited for the Quidditch game, especially after spending yesterday evening stuck in the dungeons fixing your laughing potion. You were also excited because you had another chance to see Remus. You had only seen him briefly yesterday, and he was always buried in his work. Hopefully you'd be able to gain his attention today at the game.

With this intention, you slipped on a white babydoll top and watched yourself in the mirror as you buttoned it up. You looked good. You left the top button purposely unlatched, knowing it could catch someone’s attention. After slipping on your favorite pair of jeans, you felt confident- sexy, even. Just the idea of Remus thinking you were sexy made you bite your lip.

You didn't wait for your roommates to finish getting ready. You did a last check of your things, grabbed your coat, and started down to the common room. As per usual, the marauders were sitting around the couches, talking loudly and taking up space. This time, Remus was clearly in on whatever bet was being placed over the quidditch game. His crooked smile made you curse under your breath and fix your hair. You decided to play it safe and sit by Marlene in an attempt to hide your fluster.

“Hi Marls,” you chimed, plopping down next to her.

“Princess Potter! You look absolutely dashing today,” she gloated, giving you a quick hug into her shoulder. You blushed from her compliment and peered upwards from the hug. Remus was smiling at something Peter had said, but was looking at you. You sent him a small wave from under Marlene’s arm to which he nodded up in response before turning his attention back to the boys. Why was that so hot?

Within twenty minutes, the group of Gryffindors was ready to leave, so the lot of you began the journey down to the pitch. It was nice out today, one of those afternoons where the sun seemed to warm the grounds and the breeze. This meant that the entire school would be at the game. You weren’t usually a fan of crowded spaces, but you silently thanked the gods for putting you behind Remus as you filed into the stands. It was so packed, you could smell the cologne lingering off his clothes as you sat down on the bench. You bit your lip, trying to hide your smile of satisfaction. It felt like the universe was helping your scheme.

“Y/N!” James called over the crowd, leaning forward to see you. You raised your brows and leaned forward to see him, giving him a forced smile.

“Yes, brother dearest?” You called back in a sickly sweet voice. At least now you had an excuse to lean over Remus, who was currently leaning back as far as he could to get out of the way. Perfect position to climb onto his lap, your brain thought intrusively.

“Your boyfriend’s up on the pitch,” he wiggled his eyebrows teasingly, pointing to Theodore Pompous, a 7th year Ravenclaw. You leaned over Remus and Peter to smack your brother.

“Bugger off,” you grumbled. “I admit to having a crush one time in third year, and you still haven’t shut up about it!” You felt your cheeks blush as James and Sirius continued to tease you in the most immature manner. All you could do was roll your eyes and take it, those prats.

“Still have a crush on that posh boy?” Remus leaned in with a teasing smile. You internally groaned at him for joining in on the joke, but you wouldn’t pass up the chance to tease him back.

“Why, are you jealous?” You challenged with a devious head tilt. Remus scoffed and trained his eyes back on Theodore.

“Nah,” Remus replied coolly. “Besides, James would never let you go out with that git.”

“Oh, yea?” You asked, leaning in slightly. “And who would my brother let me go out with?” He turned to face you, his eyes meeting your provocative stare. His eyes flashed with something before Marlene tugged on your arm.

“Can you tell the boys to scoot down? Lily just got here.”

You stifled the urge to roll your eyes as you and Remus called out for the boys to move further down the bench. There wasn’t much room to spare, and you ended up wedged between Marlene and Remus. You were painfully aware of his leg against your own, though Marlene's thigh didn't seem to cross your mind. Remus leaned away from you, his hand behind Peter on the bench to support his weight. It was only a minute of this compromising position before they announced the start of the game. Then, everyone leapt to their feet, eager to watch.

It was a riveting match, and Slytherin almost took the win. Luckily, Theodore managed to catch the snitch at the perfect score ratio, ending the game and sealing the win for Ravenclaw. As the excitement and cheers began to die down, everyone started slowly filing out of the stands. You shuffled behind Marlene, the noise of chatter and brushing of shoulders making you feel slightly overwhelmed. The party was going to be packed tonight. You were almost to the stairs when your foot got caught on a raised step, tripping you into the walkway. You gasped as your heart lurched forward. You prepared for impact against the steps, but it never came. Suddenly, you felt that Remus’ hands had wrapped around your waist. Your cheeks flushed red as you twisted around to face him, his right hand still lingering on your body.

“Thanks,” you muttered sheepishly, your body still shaken from the almost fall. He hesitated for a moment with his hand on you, and was about to say something before James appeared next to him. Remus dropped his hand and shoved it in his pocket. You turned back around and kept following Marlene, carefully watching where you stepped.

“Y/N, fix your shirt!” James called from behind. You clenched your jaw as you kept trudging on, shuffling along with the rest of the Gryffindors. Marlene fell beside you and scoffed.

“He is such a prat about you,” Marlene complained, throwing a dirty look back at James.

“Tell me about it. I almost eat shit and all he cares about is my shirt buttons,” you grumbled, begrudgingly buttoning your top. Marlene cackled and threw her arm around you.

“Please tell me you’re coming to the party tonight,” Marlene pleaded, shaking you slightly.

“Oh, I’m coming to the party tonight,” you grinned delightfully, nudging her in response. “And James is going to freak out when he sees what I’m wearing.”

PHASE 3: and Sinker

"Okay, actually what the fuck are you wearing, Y/N. This is my last straw," James warned, pushing himself up from the arm chair. His outburst made the other three boys heads snap up. You couldn't help but smirk as you felt Remus’ eyes on your body.

"What? This is what people wear at Ravenclaw parties these days," you shrugged, waving past them towards the exit. "Not that you lot would know. You don't get invited." Sirius barked out a laugh, while James sputtered in disbelief behind you.

"She's right!" Mary called from the stairs, bouncing into the common room with the rest of the Gryffindor girls, all looking flawless. You couldn't blame James for his reaction- If anything, you should be thanking him. He's doing a great job of getting everyone to stare.

"While I respect your opinion James, I think I look great. And I can wear whatever the hell I want," you snapped, spinning around to face him with a stubborn glare. The girls cheered, shouting some excited "Hell yeahs!" as James gave up with a resigned eye roll. He knew better than to cross you on something you wanted, and you clearly wanted something. He just didn't need to know exactly what it was. The girls followed you excitedly as you started out the portrait hole. This was going to be a fun night.

As predicted, the Ravenclaw common room was packed. By the time you arrived, the moonlight was already pouring through the glass ceiling dome, casting everything in a dreamy glow. It wasn't hard for Pandora to spot you, pulling you onto the dance floor with an airy giggle. The music was pulsing through your veins as you finished your first drink, then your second. Pandora pulled you into her body, the two of you laughing as you swayed and twirled. For a moment, your eyes focused on the group of Gryffindors hanging out in the lounge area, laughing at something Sirius had said. Remus sat back in a chair, his casual demeanor seeming out of place in a room like this.

Remus.

Your swaying slowed as you trained your eyes on him sitting nonchalantly. He was watching you, his jaw tightening as his eyes dropped to where Pandoras hands rested on your hips. It was too bad that Pandora twirled you around and you lost your train of thought.

"Panda, let's go smoke. I'm getting dizzy," you called over the music, Pandora nodding in response. The two of you resigned to a quiet corner, where you pulled out a tin of cigarettes and lit one with a flick of your wand. You inhaled deeply, enjoying the relief of cool air away from the crowd. You leaned your back up against the wall as Pandora took the fag from your hands.

“Lingering eyes are on you,” Pandora sang, her spacey eyes falling behind you as she took a drag. You turned your head to see where she was looking and was met with Remus' stare.

“Perfect. Those are just the eyes I want lingering,” you replied, bringing your drink to your lips as you watched him. You half expected him to look away, but his eyes were burning through you. You watched as he scanned up your body, his eyes meeting yours before he downed the rest of his drink. He then quickly averted to James who was trying to get Remus' attention.

"I need another drink,” you mumbled as you pushed yourself off the wall, Pandora's giggles echoing behind you. You crossed the room over to where the drinks were. You couldn’t tell if the room was charmed to be slightly purple or if it was the night sky above you. Either way, the ambiance certainly added to your intoxication as you neared the edge of the room. You almost didn’t realize someone slipping up behind you.

"Are you teasing me, Y/N?" Remus asked, cornering you by the drinks table as you spun around. He moved quickly, and you peered behind him to check for any lingering marauders.

"I'm always teasing you idiots," you sassed, turning to grab a bottle off the table. Remus seemed to step even closer to you. If one of the boys saw you like this, they'd certainly take notice. He was being bold. Luckily, you were hidden by an abnormally large globe and the mist that seemed to float about the room.

"I see you everyday," Remus challenged, huffing out a laugh, "and I've never noticed you looking at me with those eyes, Y/N." You hummed as you filled two shot glasses.

“What eyes?” You asked innocently, looking up at him through your lashes as you held out a shot for him. He scoffed out another laugh and took the shot from you.

“Cheers, love,” he winked, clanking his glass with yours before downing the shot. You followed suit, happy to consume some liquid courage. He leaned in closer to you and lowered his voice, “You know, you should really be careful wearing something like that.”

“Why’s that?” You swallowed, the burn from the shot making your cheeks hot.

“You might catch someone’s attention who you don’t want,” Remus said darkly, making you bite your lip. You’d never seen him like this before.

“And what if I catch the attention of someone I do want?” You asked coyly, looking up at him again through a tantalizing gaze. Remus scoffed again for the third time, as if he couldn’t believe your audacity.

“And who is it that you want, Y/N? Hmm?” He asked, more of a challenge. At this point, you were certain that he wanted you. That, or you were about to be in serious trouble. Either way, the risk seemed worth the reward.

“You.”

Something broke in Remus as he stepped forward again, impossibly closer as his hands met your hips.

"You mean to tell me you wore this dress, just to get my attention?" He laughed, his voice low and teasing. You bit your lip and blushed, trying to hide your blatant satisfaction. Remus was smarter than he looked.

"Mmhm," you nodded, your poorly hidden smile spreading to his face.

"Fuck, Y/N," he broke and turned to scan the room, his hands still grasping your hips. You stared up at him, watching his jaw tense as he tried to locate the marauders. His hands were burning through your dress as you stood completely still. You felt relieved when he muttered, "Follow Me," and ushered you towards the exit. You weren't sure where your brother was, but you trusted Remus to get you into the hallway. Once you had exited the doors, he wasted no time as he pressed you into the wall, the force causing you to gasp. He held you in place as he pressed his forehead into yours.

"Can I kiss you?" he whispered and you almost scoffed. You tugged him by the collar and collided his mouth with yours, groaning when he deepened the kiss immediately. His hands were greedy, grabbing at your body as he pushed himself against you. This was even better than your dreams. All sense left your body as he continued kissing down your neck. He pressed his knee roughly in between your legs. A moan left you lips as he bit down, nipping and sucking at your skin.

"Fuck, Remus," you panted, your hips rolling up towards his body. He grunted and pushed you back against the wall. Who knew Remus Lupin would be so intense?

"Can I take you back?" he breathed heavily, as if he was barely holding onto his control.

"Do you even have to ask?" you teased, his body flush against your own. He huffed out a laugh as he kissed your neck again.

"You know I have to ask, Y/N," Remus muttered darkly, as though the act of asking in itself was a violation. And maybe it was, but you couldn't care less about the line he was crossing.

"Does this answer your question?" You whispered, pulling his hand down to touch you. He cursed under his breath as he felt you, his hand seeming to move on its own as he ran his fingers up your soaking panties. It took him a minute to regain focus.

"Okay, let's go," he commanded, guiding you down the hallway with haste. You giggled as he held your waist, moving you quickly towards the Gryffindor tower. You couldn't believe this was actually happening. It surprised and satisfied you that your plan had worked, that you'd managed to tip Remus over so far that he was bringing you back to his dorm.

"You're moving so fast," you fussed as he dragged you up the stairs. His legs were significantly longer than yours.

"M' sorry," he muttered, his eyes focused ahead. "I don't want to waste any time." His urgency was contagious, and you felt yourself pick up the pace. He released you as you stepped through the portrait hole, his grip loosening with surprising restraint. He was careful, and as much as it didn't concern you in the moment, you were glad at least one of you was being responsible. There weren't many people in the common room, everyone either asleep or at the party. Remus' hand found your back once again as he silently steered you towards the boys dorms. You went up the staircase until you reached their door, looking back at Remus for permission before opening it. The windows let in slivers of moonlight and a cooling breeze. Remus shut the door behind you and turned you around. Somehow his faced seemed more real as he stood there, his eyes searching your face.

"Remus," you breathed, feeling the weight of his gaze. He huffed out a breath through his nose, stepping close to you.

"Just tell me Y/N," he said, his hands finding your neck, "Just tell me if you want me to stop."

"I want you," you whined, standing on your tip toes and pulling him down by the neck. He gratefully returned the motion, groaning as his mouth found yours. Remus was everything you'd expected and more. He knew what he was doing, and his blatant want for you made your legs buckle under his touch. He walked you backwards, lifting you by the thighs and lowering you carefully onto his bed. His hand smoothed its way over your leg, pushing up the hem of your dress. His thumb swiped against your front, causing your back to lift slightly under his touch. He hummed into your mouth as he ground his hips down into yours. You could feel him through his pants, and you groaned at his size. Fucking hell. You ran your finger nails down the back of his shirt. Remus pulled his wand out of his pocket and closed his curtains, sitting up on his knees and unbuttoning his shirt. You watched, mesmerized by the show in front of you. The scars that ran down his chest, lower to his abdomen, and lower...

"My eyes are up here, darling," Remus teased, smirking down at you as he tugged off his shirt. You swallowed, looking up at his eyes which were no less intimidating than his body. He scoffed out a laugh as he climbed over you, running his fingertips down your body.

"If your intention was to get my attention all night, you did a good job," he breathed, pressing his finger into your clit. "Such a good job."

He stifled your moan with his mouth, his kiss wet and needy. His fingers moved carefully over your panties, provoking a response from your body that you'd never experienced before. You were trying your best to keep up with his kiss, but the overwhelming sensation of Remus had you melting into the bed.

"Oh, fuck," you moaned, throwing your head back into the pillow as his fingers moved underneath the fabric. He hummed as he began to kiss roughly down your neck. His fingers swiped over your slickness, teasing your entrance. You grasped onto him tighter, your nails digging into his shoulder as he plunged a finger inside you. He pushed himself up to watch you as he pumped another finger into you, you hips moving rhythmically with his hands. By this point, you looked a complete mess with your dress bunched around your middle and your mouth in a permanent gasp. You groaned as you felt yourself beginning to pulse on the brink of an orgasm.

"Fuck, Y/N. Are you going to cum?" Remus mocked you, he fingers stealdiy curly up inside of you.

"Y-yea. M' gonna cum," You whimpered, screwing your eyes shut. Remus muttered a curse under his breath before ducking his head and finding his way in between your thighs. Without warning, he buried himself in you, lapping at your clit while pinning you down by the waist. You grasped at his hair, attempting to pull him off of you but it was no use. He was humming into you as you moved in circle around his face, teetering on the verge of your orgasm. He let out a particularly throaty grunt that sent you over the edge. You let out a muffled cry as you spilled your juices onto his tongue repeatedly. He finished you up, humming as he began to kiss up your body until he hovered over you again. You pulled him down into a rough kiss, your hips snapping up to feel his hard on. "You're so perfect, Y/N," Remus praised, pulling your dress down over your bum. Your tits were now fully exposed, Remus' hands and eyes exploring over your body like he was trying to memorize you. "So perfect... I want you so badly..." He groaned, kissing over you chest and rubbing your tit in his hand. You groaned with pleasure.

"Then have me." You didn't hesitate to pull off the rest of your clothes, helping Remus unbutton his pants and pull them over his ankles. He did the same with his boxers, his length springing free. You bit your lip at the sight, a little nervous for how big he was. This didn't deter you though as you sat on your knees and leaned forward, beckoning him to use you.

"You're so fucking-” Remus let out a groan as he pushed himself inside your mouth, grabbing the back of your head with his hand. You wet his shaft with your tongue, moaning as he began to move down your throat. "So fucking good." His praises made you clamp your knees together, groaning again as you took him as far as you could handle. He gripped your hair roughly and throat fucked you for a few seconds before pulling you off, as if he couldn't control himself. "Turn around."

You did as you were told and spun around onto you hands. He pushed you chest down into the bed lined himself up with your entrance. You tried to sit back onto him, but his other hand held your hips firmly in place.

"Please, Remus," you choked out, your face buried into the mattress. He groaned as he pushed into you slowly, stretching you out with every inch he pressed inside of you.

"Oh, fuck," Remus breathed, moving slowly to let you adjust to his size. This consideration didn't last long before he was pounding you into his mattress, calling you filthy names and tugging on your hair. All the restraint he seemed to have went out the window as he fucked you mercilessly from behind.

"R-Remus. Fuck- me-" you cried, whimpering with every thrust. His hand gripped your hip with a squeeze as he leaned over your body.

"You're taking me so well," He breathed, running his hand under you body. He snaked his hand over your tit and pulled you up against him, making you gasp with pleasure from the new angle. "You're doing so good, angel."

He had you melting from his touch as your body gave out underneath his hands. He bit your neck gently, sucking and kissing on the sweet spot he had found earlier. You groaned as your head lulled back on his shoulder. This was not what you were expecting. You had no complaints though as he reached down between your legs and started pressing on your clit, pushing himself deep inside of you.

“R-Remus,” you warned, struggling to hold yourself up. You could feel a knot forming in your stomach for the second time as his thick cock moved inside of you, putting more pressure on your nerves.

“Just like that, Y/N,” he murmured, his strong hands holding you in place. “Just let go, sweetheart.”

You didn’t have to be told twice as you let yourself release around him, guttural sounds coming out of your mouth. You had no time to feel embarrassed over your moans as he pushed you back on the bed and started fucking you senseless.

“So good, fuck me,” Remus mutter incoherently as he rammed himself inside of you, grabbing at your hips. You looked back at him to watch, and were not disappointed at the sight. When his eyes locked onto yours, he broke. He snapped his hips haphazardly as he released himself inside of you. You moaned again at the feeling of Remus Lupin filling you up with his cum. He thrust into you one last time before falling over you, moving your hair to one side to kiss your neck.

“So fucking good, Y/N,” he praised again, cleaning the both of you up with an impressive flick of his wand. You hummed and turned yourself around in a fucked out daze. He watched you pout as you pulled weakly on his neck. He chuckled under his breath and came down to kiss you. The two of you stayed like that for a while, lazily kissing as his hands rubbed gently down your body, a stark contrast from his rough actions just moments ago.

“I should probably go,” you frowned as he came up for air. He mirrored your response and sighed.

“You’re probably right,” he said, pushing himself off of you. “Here, let me grab you a shirt.” He pulled on his own pants before you heard him shuffle to his trunk. Just as you were about to move to get up, you heard someone bounding up the stairs.

“Shit,” you whispered, frozen in place. You saw Remus’ hands toss a shirt through the curtain before retreating, and you gratefully put it on. Luckily, your dress was still under you. You heard Remus kick your shoes under his bed.

“Moony? Why’d you leave so early?” You heard Sirius ask with a slight slur, stumbling into the room.

“Started boking,” Remus replied casually. “I feel like shit, I’m just gonna go to bed.” Sirius hummed and fell on his bed. You heard him kick off his shoes and manuveur himself under the sheets.

“You and me both, Moons,” Sirius groaned, seemingly too drunk to care about any lie Remus was spewing. Remus moved towards his bed.

“Alright, well. G’night,” Remus murmured, climbing into bed quickly.

“G’night,” Sirius muttered, rummaging through something. You looked to Remus with concern, who only put his finger to his lips as he came to lay down next to you. His haphazard smile seemed to relax you a bit as he pulled you into your chest, humming with content.

“Just go to sleep, love,” he whispered quietly and kissed your head. “I’ll get you back safe and sound.” Perhaps it was against your better judgement, but you seemed to trust Remus wholly to take care of you. That and your body was completely exhausted from him. You murmured a goodnight as you buried yourself into his neck, falling asleep to the sound of his heartbeat. At some point, you heard your brother come in with Peter. Remus momentarily tensed causing you to shift. His grasp tightened on you before he heard Sirius grumble something along the lines of “sick” to James and the room fell silent again.

The second time you stirred, you felt Remus pulling away from you. You mumbled lightly, confused as to why he was getting out of bed. He turned to shush you quietly before stepping out. You heard him shuffle across the room.

“James,” he whispered, “James, wake up.” You sat up quietly in his bed. What the fuck was he doing?

“Mm,” James groaned, turning in his bed. “Moony?”

“Yea it’s me,” Remus said quickly. “Can I borrow your cloak? I think a Slytherin charmed my drink last night and I need to go on a quick mission.” You rolled your eyes at this. Remus was smart, and his lies would perfectly convince James. He would never turn down a prank.

“Oh, shit,” James said, slightly more awake. “Do you want me to come?”

“No,” Remus answered quickly. “Uh, no. I’ll be super quick. I just can’t sleep until I know I got back at them.” This seemed to appease James as you heard him fall back into bed.

“Sure, Moony,” James yawned. “It’s in my trunk.” You heard Remus shuffle through his trunk before coming back around to the other side of your bed. You heard him slip on some shoes before holding the curtain open, once again holding his finger to his lips. You rolled your eyes at this and quietly stepped out of the bed, thankfully blocked by the rest of the room. Remus threw the cloak over the both of you and guiding you to the door, trying to be as quiet as possible. Both of you felt relief as you stepped into the stairway, making your way down to the common room. Nobody was here at this hour. Remus threw the cloak off of you.

“I’m sorry about that,” he said, spinning you around to face him. “I should’ve been more careful.” You shook your head.

“It’s fine, I didn’t mind using you as my pillow for a bit,” you chuckled lightly. “Besides, I could’ve used a bit more caution myself.” You blushed shyly at him. You hadn’t been the most discreet throughout the whole ordeal. Remus laughed at this and ran his thumbs across your hips, causing you to shiver. You wore only his oversized shirt and your panties.

“Nah,” Remus said with his lopsided grin. “I think I quite like your obvious pining for me.” You slapped his chest lightly as he chuckled. “I’ll just have to work extra hard to keep you to myself.” He leaned in to kiss you, and you felt your heart leap. So much for getting over your crush.

“Hmm, I’ll guess I’ll have to keep trying to get you attention then,” you whispered, pulling back from his lips. He hummed and kissed you again, as if he couldn’t get enough.

“Go get some sleep, love. I’m sure you need it,” he teased, flashing another grin at you. You rolled your eyes at him but couldn’t keep your smile down.

“Goodnight, Remus.” You started towards the girls dormitories.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

Remus found himself staying in the common room with James’ cloak, not wanting to return too early. He tried to convince himself this was a bad idea, but he couldn’t justify it. There really wasn’t anything that could stop him from fucking you again. His mind flashed with images of your perfect eyes looking back at him as he rammed himself inside of your perfect pussy. His head fell back onto the couch with a thud. He was a goner.

[daenysx]

remus lupin x fem!reader, fluff/comfort mostly ♡

-remus thinks he doesn't deserve anything nice. he can't be more wrong.

cw; this is super sickly sweet and romantic read at your own discretion, sleepy remus, friends to lovers (?), pining and yearning, touch starved!remus, kinda touch starved!reader, kissing, so much so so much kissing, remus smokes, he also apologises a lot, a bit suggestive at the end but nothing smutty

wc; 1.7k

loved by you

"remus?"

you lean slightly to see remus' face only to find him fast asleep on your side of the bed. his lips are parted, soft cheek melting against your pillow, and he looks peaceful. he looks like he's finally getting some rest and you could never disturb him when he needs it the most.

you know it's not polite to stare, and you never could if remus was awake. he's in all your wishes and every dream, a precious boy who has love for everyone other than himself. his long fingers are squeezing the blanket only a little, palm filled with the fluffy fabric.

there's an ache that grows. you want to kiss remus. the urge is sweet and impossible to follow, you want to press yourself on his lovely skin and get a glimpse of him. what would it be like to love him? love him like nothing can stop you. kiss him anywhere you want. read him books and poems, ask for his opinion, seek his hands under all the tables. all the casuality that comes with love, you want it.

remus is not your boyfriend.

you sit down properly on your bed. he always says he likes your apartment better than his. he looks like he belongs here. under your blanket and surrounded by your scent all over the bed. he lets himself be okay every time he's in your room.

you watch him. his small frown, tiny pout, but he looks pretty. he always looks pretty. too bad he's only a friend and nothing more.

he turns to his side in his sleep. you don't move.

remus stretches his legs, small sounds of back cracks follow, and he relaxes. his body looks for yours, he comes closer.

you think nothing of it. it only means he's exhausted. he is just a human with a tired body that he has to drag everywhere, it's normal that he seeks comfort. he trusts you, you know. it's okay if he wants to be closer.

when he extends his arm to wrap it around your waist, you freeze.

remus looks like a little boy when he pouts, not getting what he wants, he tries to pull you close with an almost useless arm. he murmurs something you can't hear properly.

you let him get you in his bubble. how can you not when he's obviously needy of it? connection and touch. remus craves it like he's been starved for so long. you're no better.

he puts his head on your chest. you're holding him in your arms in a second. his hair tickles your skin. he makes a tiny sound, it's full of yearning, the kind that makes you want to tangle your legs with his and never let him walk away.

"it's okay." you whisper. your hand goes up to cup his cheek. he nearly melts. "i'm here."

you'll always be here, if that's what he wants.

he tightens his arms around you. you drag your hand to the back of his neck, nails scratching his scalp, you play with him. he's sleeping so deep, you'd do anything for him to get a few hours of this.

"you are loved, so loved." you can't help yourself. you kiss right below his ear. it's too much for a friend. "just need you to know how precious you are, remus."

he doesn't hear your whispers. maybe this is better. he'd probably tell you to stop. stop complimenting. stop telling him that he's something he doesn't think he is. stop being so sweet on him. he doesn't deserve it, he'd say.

you want to fight all his demons.

instead, you pull him even closer, make sure he's comfortable where he is. the pillow is soft under his head, and you are incredibly warm and inviting. can he feel the gentle pressure of your fingers in his hair? you don't know, but you keep playing with him. taking your time, you count every eyelash and every tiny spot on his face.

an hour passes with your loving and remus' gentle breaths. he's still sleeping like a baby.

your fingers feel a bit numb. you try to relax them, focus on remus. you probably won't be able to appreciate his beauty for a long time after he wakes up. he'll thank you and leave, maybe he'll offer to make you a cup of coffee to let you know he's grateful. you don't really need that, but he'll feel obligated to do something in return.

he stirs awake after another fifteen minutes.

"hey." you whisper, gently coaxing him out of his sleep. "everything's okay."

the thin line between his eyebrows disappear after he realizes where he is, who he is with.

"i didn't mean to fall asleep." he says, his voice is rough and delicious. "i was- waiting for you."

"i know." you tell him. he still has his arms around you. "it's okay, you needed to sleep."

"yeah." he says, mind blurry with a comforting haze. his body is responsive to every bit of affection, he can't separate himself from you.

in that moment, something in the air shifts.

remus looks at you with longing. as if he knows this won't last. as if it pains him to leave your arms. he takes a greedy breath, inhaling your perfume and carving you to his mind. he'll remember this forever.

you don't know what this is, this weird feeling that makes you lean to his face softly. it can be madness. it can be love, a type of love that is so deep, you have to keep reminding yourself of your surroundings constantly.

"remus?" you have to say his name. you have to be sure.

"yes." he says. that's not a question. he accepts it. he wants it.

you fix his hair, hold his face with gentle hands as you get into his personal space even more. your lips are soft against his, hesitant, unsure and still.

remus lifts his chin to kiss you. the kiss is liquified, you feel it in your veins. he opens his mouth, slowly building something between you. you welcome the kiss with your entire being. you've been wanting it for so long, it doesn't even feel real.

he sighs into the kiss. you are pulled to his chest, his arms holding you as if you'll escape. remus is selfish, he kept himself under control for far too long, he has everything now and he wants more. more of you, more of this kiss, more of sleep in your bed.

"dove-" he sounds sweet under you. you don't break the kiss, the grey of the evening clouds fill your room, and you kiss remus.

"please, remus." you whisper between two short breaths. please, don't think you don't deserve this. you deserve everything. all the best of things.

this time remus knows he has to believe you.

you kiss his chin. the curve of his jawline fits snugly between your lips, he closes his eyes. is this how it's gonna be from now on? he lets you love him the way you want, do anything you want to him.

"we could have this before." you say as you brush your lips on his neck. his heart beats faster under your palm. you kiss the softest skin right there and he tilts his head back.

"i'm sorry." he apologises. it's a genuine apology. sorry for not seeing himself worthy of affection. sorry for making you wait. sorry for being so lost in his head.

"it's okay." you tell him once more this evening. "we still have time."

remus relaxes visibly. his fingers are wrapped around yours. you kiss his collarbone under the fabric of his shirt and he makes a little sound for you. nothing can be compared to this. to be loved by you.

"can i- can i make you a cup of coffee?" he offers. your eyes meet, you press your lips on his before nodding.

knowing he won't leave this time, you sit on your messy bed. remus' warmth lingers. you smile, lovesick and giddy, you need some fresh air.

only in your tank top and sleeping shorts now, you try to relieve your flushed body by opening the window. it's almost five in the evening, the grey clouds greet you with a soft breeze. you sit by the window as you wait for remus.

he comes back with two cups of coffee in his hands. his jeans hang low on his waist, his eyes are so clear. he puts the coffee cups on the tiny table you have. taking a sip from his cup, he reaches for his pocket to get a cigarette.

"you played with my heart rhytm there, you know?" he smirks. it's a boyish smirk and you are charmed forever. "gotta calm myself down."

"with coffee and cigarettes?" you get closer. he takes a long drag.

"we all have our ways."

you sit on his lap, he holds you away from the smoke and close to his chest. fitting like two puzzle pieces, you wait for your coffee to get a little cold to take a sip.

when remus finishes his smoking, he holds your waist with both hands. he looks at your face, he stares, every detail he gets to love freely from now on. your lips curl up nicely for him. he presses you to himself, your lips collide with his neck.

this time, though, he has a different plan. he cups the back of your head gently and gives you a kiss on the chin. you tilt your neck back, he puts his lips on your pulse point. the wind strokes your bare skin. remus licks a thin line on your collarbone before kissing it entirely.

"so soft." he whispers. "i can't believe you're mine."

he brushes his lips on your chest. your legs clench on either side of his thighs. "i've been yours for a very long time." you manage to say.

"i know." he knows alright. "i'm sorry for being a coward."

countless kisses on your skin to atone his sins. your core is pressed tight against him, you feel like you're melting. the fabrics are thin, he's so close. you watch the clouds through a pair of hazy eyes.

"let me have this for now." he pleads. he's almost collapsing, stimulated and he wants to enjoy it, to get lost in those longing minutes. he can't have everything in the same hour.

"just this?" you ask, breathless. remus puts his face on your chest as you pull him in for a hug.

"just this."

for now, it's enough.

[allllium]

☾ Best Remus Lupin Fics on Tumblr ☆

> Fluff <

Period Pains

I'm Your Boyfriend

Skin

Shy!Remus

Whimsical

↳ [ @moonstruckme ]

Little Family

Full Moon Drabble

↳ [ @wasteddmoondust ]

It's Blue the Feeling I've got

↳ [ @jamespottersdaisy ]

Drunk

Sunshine!Reader

↳ [ @luveline ]

Kiss

Whipped

↳ [ @bruisedboys ]

Shy!Reader ~ [ @daenysx ]

Lazy Sunday Morning ~ [ @gtgbabie0 ]

No Boundaries ~ [ @ddejavvu ]

Sore ~ [ @ellecdc ]

Missed Hints ~ [ @empress-simps ]

Scars ~ [ @crimsntwlip ]

Kisses as Payment ~ [ @diwatopia ]

Lunar Possession ~ [ @jasmines-library ]

Anxious!Reader ~ [ @madwcman ]

Drabble ~ [ @contrarinshiit ]

Annoying Serenading ~ [ @shiftermia ]

Infatuated ~ [ @fourmoony ]

Touch Starved ~ [ @gtgbabie0 ]

Introduction to the Son ~ [ @starzqzi ]

Never His ~ [ @weasleykisses ]

> Hurt/Comfort <

It's Nice to Have a Friend

Sweet Nothing

↳ [ @jamespottersdaisy ]

Migraine ~ [ @moonstruckme ]

Blue Moon ~ [ @ellecdc ]

Unconditionally ~ [ @sarahisslytherin ]

Snappy ~ [ @luveline ]

[blossomarlia]

hi, could you write a drabble with reader x remus where she rlly struggles with getting involved or going to hang out with people without explicitly being invited (just feeling really worried about being rejected) and he kind of reassures her and looks after her?

hi, thanks for this request! hope you enjoy, i generally don't write school-aged drabbles but thought this fit the best.

summary: your fear of being rejected stops you from joining your friends, but remus reassures you

remus x fem! reader (implied early stages romance)

Sitting by one of the fireplaces in the Gryffindor common room, you’re wondering how many of the people around you have exchanged glances over the top of your head. You can almost feel judgement thickening the air, raised eyebrows and confused smiles that ask why is she even here? To be honest, the only reason that you haven’t moved away is that you were technically sitting here first, and the rest of them milled in and took their spots nearby- then again, was it purposeful, your taking a place on one of the sofas they often use? In hindsight it’s just embarrassing. They must be assuming that you sat down just so they’d have no choice but to talk to you. 

You know you’re expecting the worst of this group, none of whom particularly deserve it. The flock of seventh-years surrounding you are generally a good bunch; Lily, Sirius, Marlene, Mary, Peter, James, Remus, and Dorcas,. You want to be one of them more than  you want most other things, which is somewhat pathetic and completely obvious in the way you’re always hanging around. They may all be lovely, and your friends (to some extent), but you know how irritating it can be if there’s always someone not quite in the group hanging around.

You should leave. Get up and make some comment about homework, or whatever, and wait for absolutely nobody to stop you. It’s kinder to everybody. Isn’t it?

Lost in your thoughts, you miss what Lily says next, and then they’re all getting to their feet. You give what you hope is a casual smile, simultaneously relieved of your spiralling and disappointed that they’re fulfilling your expectations.

There’s a tap on your shoulder- Remus, your favourite, whose hair has grown out over Christmas and now curls over his ears. He seems to get taller and lovelier with every passing moment. It’s difficult to make eye contact.

“We’re heading to the greenhouses, did you hear?” He says quietly, hand stilling instead of pulling away. You press your lips together and nod, carefully hiding any sort of misplaced hurt. It’s not as if you’re entitled to an invitation.

“Alright, I’ll see you later!” Too enthusiastic.

His brows pinch together. “You’re not coming?”

You look up at the others, who are collecting scarves and bags on their way to the portrait-hole. How can you admit to Remus that you don’t think they want you along? How can you tell him, anyone, that you’re far too afraid of being made fun of, or becoming a joke within their tight-knit group, to risk it?

“Oh, I don’t know. I have heaps of homework.”

“You do?” He raises his eyebrows. You feel caught, despite not having been accused of any sort of lie. “I thought you finished it all yesterday.”

You’d been studying when he and Lily joined you, and all day you’ve been wondering why they chose to. You probably put a but too much value on people choosing to sit next to you in class or during study; it’s unlikely that it was more than an absence of other free tables.

“...Some, yeah. And I wouldn’t want to- you know, I wouldn’t…” You trail off and give an awkward laugh. Remus’ gentle expression is making the inside of your mouth hurt.

“What?” You’re not used to your excuses mattering so much. Mostly, you mutter something and disappear to your dorm in time to avoid any drama. Is he feeling guilty, awkward about having made plans as a group in front of someone else? You cringe at the notion of Remus realising how friendless you probably are, of his pity. 

You know it’s your own fault for being like this. You’ve had friends in the past- cool, funny, popular, attractive- who frequently left you out on purpose. A drunken conversation in fifth year revealed that you were tolerable at best, a joke at worst. Always pushing in and so desperate for invitations that to extend them could only be ironic. 

You think about that more often than you should. You’re constantly hyperaware of how tolerable you are, sure that you’ll say or do something which will make everyone else realise exactly why you’re not in any particular group. You can’t let that happen yet with all these people, so full of love for one another that even proximity to them feels like the experience of it. Still, they’re teenagers. Judgement is an automatic response, and Remus is clever in the way he jokes. He’ll retell this conversation to roaring laughter if you reveal too much- not that he’s ever unkind, but you sort of invite a bad impression, you think.

“It’s really fine,” You assure him. “I’m tired. It’s cold, too.”

“Right,” He nods, glancing downwards. You think you’ve won (as much as you can win, here) until he turns to James and Peter and says, “I think we’re going to stay here. Bit chilly.”

What?

James frowns, making a sound of protest. “Moony!” His eyes fall to you next, and you look away, guilty and embarrassed. You’d never even considered that pity would drive Remus to actually stay here, and now they’ll all hate you. Nice job, very well handled.

Marlene is next. “‘Cas has just finished growing the Alihotsy plant, though. We’re all going.”

“It’s been weeks since we all had the evening off- or at least, since Potter and Black didn’t have a detention each,” Lily reasons more kindly. She receives twin protests from the boys on either side of her, but remains unbothered, adding, “It’d be nice to spend a bit more time as a group.”

You’re awfully close to tears. All you’d wanted was to relieve them of yourself, to retreat to your room and wait until somebody explicitly invited you somewhere (if ever), and now you’ve gone and ruined everybody’s evening. You turn to Remus, more urgent than is likely normal. “Please just go with them,” You say softly, aware that your voice is all wobbly. “I’m just going to go to bed, I don’t want to interrupt all of you catching up. Please, it’s really okay.”

There’s a brief silence that spans the entire crowd. They’ve all heard, are all likely attempting not to laugh. Remus is giving you an awful look. 

“...Are you okay, lovely?” Mary asks. You can’t look at her, can’t look at any of them, but you’ve always been alright at masking emotion in your voice when you really try. You force something like a smile.

“Yes! Yes, completely fine, I’m only tired. Post-holiday blues, maybe.” You laugh and it sounds terrible. “I’ve really only got to go to bed. You all have fun!” Silence again. 

“We might join you all in a bit,” Remus says firmly. There are a few worried noises of assent, and they all head off. Now, you do see them looking at one another, frowning and looking upset. Poor Remus, you imagine them saying on their way to the greenhouses, stuck looking after her while we all escape.

Remus asks you to sit down again three times before you agree, still rather set on going to bed so you won’t cry in front of the entire common-room.

“What’s making you so upset?” He asks softly, once he’s finally detained you. You blink quickly and cast a glance around at the other students in the common-room, afraid to embarrass yourself more than you already have, but he’s quick to assuage the fear. “I cast a muffliato when James began talking about the Alihotsy prank- ages ago. Nobody’s heard anything, I promise.”

You swallow harshly. “Oh. Thanks. I’m sorry I’m being so- so-”

“If I could,” Remus says, firm but kind, “This will be a lot easier if we can get to the problem, here, rather than whatever you think you’ve done wrong.”

“I- right. Okay. Um,” You stammer. “They’re not really mutually exclusive.” “Why don’t you want to come? Did somebody say something hurtful?” You look at him, slightly startled. “What? It’s not that I don’t want to.”

Remus seems perplexed, looking the way he does when he’s working out a particularly difficult exam question. “No?”

“No.” You twist your fingers together so tightly that they hurt. “No, it sounds fun, it just… it’s not as if I’m going to demand to be brought along, am I?” The joke falls flat. You think you already knew it would, but it’s still a bit embarrassing to laugh and be met with a concerned frown.

 You take a few longer breaths. You can fix this. You have to fix this. 

“Look, it’s kind of you to stay here, but like Lily said- you all have the night off. It’s really not so bad not to spend it as a group. I want you to go, really.” The next smile is easier. You’ve done this before, convinced people not to feel bad for you. 

“Why would you need to demand to be brought along?” Remus asks. “We made the plans while you were right here.”

“You all made plans together,” You explain slowly. “You know, having an evening to yourselves and that sort of thing. There’s no need for- you know, I’m honestly just tired. That’s probably why I’ve reacted so oddly, it’s my own fault.”

Remus looks at you for a long while, so intent that your skin gets prickly and uncomfortable. Eventually, he speaks, quiet and considered. “...You haven’t acted oddly if that’s how you’ve been feeling.”

“Tired?”

“No, excluded.” He says gently. “You really didn’t know you were invited?” You don’t answer with more than silence, and he sighs. 

“You were. You’re always invited, dove, of course you are.”

Trying not to get to hung up on impossibilities, you shake your head quickly. “It’d be a bit rude to assume that.”

“It wouldn’t.” Remus replies immediately. Then, “Dove, what are we going to do with you?” Entirely too much to comprehend. You’re glad he goes on. “Would you look at me for a moment, please?”

You want to ask him why, or refuse, or run up to your dormitory, but you do as he says. You wonder if he knows that he could ask you to do almost anything and you’d say yes, if he’ll only keep looking at you with his coffee-coloured eyes.

“All of us- we want you to come along, wherever we are. You’re important to lots of people. Do you understand that?” “I- I just don’t want to push myself in.” You say, mortified.

“You aren’t. You’re being pulled, if anything, yeah?” His lips quirk. “When Lily said those things about spending time as a group, she meant you, too. If somebody said something that made you think otherwise, I’ll-”

“Nobody said anything,” You tell him feebly. This is all rather a lot to take in. “I think… maybe it’s more that nobody’s said I am invited, or a part of- I don’t know, it’s all sort of stupid.”

“No it’s not,” Remus disagrees. He pinches your chin quickly between thumb and forefinger, frowning again. Mary once commented that Remus would look sixty by the time you all left school, with all his worrying wrinkles. “Not stupid, but it’s not very kind to yourself, either. Why shouldn’t we want you around?”

You open your mouth and close it at his raised eyebrow. “Rhetorical question?” 

“Rhetorical question.” He confirms amusedly. “There’s no point arguing, because we do. I do. I wish you wouldn’t think otherwise.”

“I’ve only been friends with all of you for a little while, though. You’ve all been mates since first-year.” At that, Remus outright scoffs. “Have we, now?” 

You shrug. 

“James and Lily always liked each other, then? Dorcas didn’t only just start hanging around us as well?” You look down, and he sighs. “However long everybody’s known one another, the most important bit is that we all like each other, yeah? It wouldn’t matter whether we became mates at eleven or two days ago- we’re friends. Or- you know.”

You definitely don’t know, but you’re going red anyway. He was definitely talking about Lily and James- that’s all he meant by ‘you know’. Isn’t it?

Remus scratches the back of his head, quiet for another second. Then, “...Why don’t we go down to the greenhouses? We’ll stick together the whole time, you’ll not be sat by yourself again.”

“I don’t want to make you babysit.”

Remus tsks, expression becoming sterner for a moment. “Don’t think that way about yourself. I’m asking because I want you to come- it’s not worth going if you aren’t there.”

The long moment it takes for you to decipher whether he’s only being nice or if that’s the truth is enough for Remus to decide that you don’t really have a choice in the matter. Tugging you to your feet, and seeming taller than ever with your proximity, he winds his own scarf around your neck and pushes some hair behind your hear. You let him, mostly because you’re too surprised to do anything about it.

“Let’s go, before they all decide to try some of the Alihotsy themselves. Gloves?”

You manage a nervous giggle, putting your mittens on when he hands them to you. “Thanks.”

“That’s alright. Come on,” He gives you a crooked sort of smile. It’s sometimes difficult to tell if Remus is aware how good-looking he is. 

The entire group are far too enthusiastic at yours and Remus’ arrival fifteen minutes later, given the fact that it’s hardly been half an hour since they left. Either way, you’re quickly pulled into a squabble between Lily and James about- as Remus predicted- the logic of trying some Alihotsy for themselves. 

“Thank Merlin you came, you’re the only one who won’t be completely daft about this!” Lily says, linking her arm in yours. You smile before catching Remus’ eye and looking down, feeling yourself flush. Smug bastard, you think fondly.

It’s an entire two hours before everyone heads back up to the castle, having thoroughly violated curfew but without (to James and Sirius’ chagrin) having tested any of the plant which would induce hysterical laughter. You find yourself walking beside the tallest of the group in comfortable silence, a few steps behind the rest.

“Thanks for making me come with you,” You say, perhaps a little more earnestly than you ought. “It was really nice.”

“‘Course, dove.” You look up at Remus to find he’s already looking at you. He clears his throat, glancing over at Sirius and Marlene where they’re pretending to push each other into the snow. It’s likely to end in one of them following through and the other swearing eternal hatred. “We’re all glad you came along. Could even make a habit of it.”

You exhale a laugh. “Maybe.”

He gives you a sideways look. “Oh, ‘maybe’, is it?” “...Conceivably?” You grin, darting away when he grabs at you and sort of wishing you’d stayed still just to see what he’d do. Remus fixes you with a teasing glare.

“Watch it, sweetheart.”

You blink, choking on words for a minute. Sweetheart? Sweetheart!? Sweetheart, sweetheart, sweetheartsweetheartsweetheartsweetheart-

“You alright?” 

“Yeah!” You say, too quickly. Remus misreads your flusteredness as something else and softens, taking hold of your sleeve and tugging you towards him. You go easily.

“If it’ll help,” He says thoughtfully, “You can ask me if you’re invited to things. Or I’ll just tell you. Then you won’t have to go to the trouble of assuming either way.”

You like him so, so much. “That’s really nice of you, Remus.”

“Eh,” He shrugs. “You know me.”

Now, it’s harder not to smile than anything else. “I don’t want you to go to any trouble. It’s really my problem, I shouldn’t-”

“Enough,” He interrupts gently. “Just say yes, dove, if it’ll help. I won’t be unhappy either way.”There are several places within you, the more unkind parts, that say accepting his offer would be like accepting pity. But there are also places that are warmed at the thought, that remember how people reacted when you arrived in the greenhouse, that can start imagining a reality wherein nobody hated your presence by the sofas tonight, and those bits win the argument for the first time in a very long time. You look up at Remus, his soft eyes and fluffy hair dusted with snow, and nod.

[duhhpadfoot]

Frustratingly Yours

Remus x Reader | Academic Rivals to Lovers

A/N: so it's been a hot minute since I've written any fanfiction... and this is my first time writing for the marauders fandom!! I've been working on this for a while, it was supposed to be a poly!marauders + lily huge one shot but I ended up getting stuck on it and decided to only make it about moony (even though the poly one was 100% moony centered) and with more than one part. I hope you love this! and I'm still considering posting the poly!version to it too

[2.4k words]

CW: childhood acquaintences to academic rivals to...lovers, cursing, it'll be a reaaal slowburn, rem and reader at each others throat, remus might seem a bit ooc but you'll understand why

stunning witchy dividers by @saradika-graphics

Part 2 (to come)

Remus liked to believe he enjoyed keeping his head down, ignoring the fact that he himself was a part of the infamous marauders and did participate in pranks from time-to-time. He still liked to believe he kept out of trouble (for the most part and the right reasons). He liked to believe it, it didn't mean it was true. If someone asked him to describe some of his traits, he'd be certain to tell them he was a calm and… a somewhat responsible guy, definitely not the first one to lose his temper. He liked to think he was above childish provocations. Unlike his friends.

He laughed at Sirius and James' antics, despite being the butt of the joke. Patiently listened to Lily's rants. Explained coursework to his fellow classmates even when it seemed like the most mind numbing of subjects. And was always the last one to raise his voice during discussions. 

Now if someone were to ask him to describe himself after interacting with you?

He'd answer the same. Because, well, he was a prideful lion was he not?

And then those around him would raise their eyebrows in utter bewilderment. 

You were the only one who made him feel like he was a breath away from self admitting himself into St. Mungo's. The one who made him raise his voice at the littlest things, resort to childish antics and drive Lily mad with his rants about you. 

Y/N Y/LN.

One of his best mates' closest friend. And his —he'd never admit this to her, give her the dignity of acknowledging her as someone respectable enough to be competing with him— academic rival. 

Yes, Lily sometimes did get better scores than they both did. James got the handle on a charm quicker than anybody in his house. And Sirius did achieve O's on his schoolwork without much effort. 

But that did not matter because they weren't you. The one who plagued his mind. Whose name was always on the tip of his tongue.

He was proud of them, encouraged them and commemorated them. 

The same could not be said about you. 

You were friends during your first year at Hogwarts… and then things got to the point in which they were now.

"I did not cheat!" You whisper harshly across from one of the library's tables. 

A dark chuckle comes out from his lips as his eyes narrow to slits and focus on you. "I think I recall our Defence Against Dark Arts Professor rather clearly, we weren't supposed to use curses on one another."

The rest of your group don't even lift their heads from their work, as this is normal when it comes to you two. It became so common they could probably dedicate a time in their schedule for whenever you'd bicker, argue or shout at each other. It would be weird for a day to go by without some type of exchange between the two. "I'm glad to know your stupidity hasn't affected your memory loss seeing as our lesson was a couple of hours ago. And as I've said" You drawl lazily, although the tightening of your fingers around your quill betrays the way you actually feel. "I didn't use curses." 

You hear more than see him scoff since you won't lift your head to meet his eyes. 

"I did not curse you, if you'd get your head out of your arse you'd have heard me when I said I created a—" Remus doesn't even blink at the aggression. "Also known as cheating." He sneers. "Or you're just barking mad and have great difficulty admitting that I'm better at duelling than you are." That causes Sirius and James to abruptly stop their whispering and Lily to put down her book, all of them now tensely keeping their eyes on you both.

The banter was normal, once one of you mentioned you were better than the other at anything? Specifically a subject, an intellectual subject? All hell broke loose, there was no knowing where things would go. 

"Well of course, when one uses means that aren't following the rules then obviously it's much easier to defeat their opponent." "How many times am I supposed to tell you that I used a jinx that I've created?" Your voice finally starts to rise in volume. Really, actually quite shocking that you've been able to control yourself for so long. "The same one you won't let me explain since you always end up interrupting-"

"I suppose until you admit that what you've done was against the rules." He raises his voice to meet yours in volume. 

The other three students' heads turn, following your banter as if they were watching a really intense quidditch match, not trying to diffuse the situation already knowing the outcome would be the same. 

"Shhh!" Madam Pince whispers fall on deaf ears as both of you only seem to get more and more agitated with your argument. 

"Just because I best you does not mean I cheated." "I'll remember that for future reference." "Please do! Are you finally admitting that you already expect me to win our next duels?" 

"Oh, please, this is embarrassing." He scoffs

"Okay, you know what, let's do a redo right now, and I'll be nice and not even use my jinx since you're so put off by it." You stand up abruptly, push your chair out, letting it topple to the floor in your haste to prove him wrong. Causing Madam Pince to yell in shock. "And will probably never be able to shield it." 

Remus barks out a condescending laugh, quickly standing up to meet you. "Yes. Let's." Escapes his gritted teeth.

James' eyes widen in shock that Remus, kind, put together Remus, would actually pull out his wand in the middle of the library, his sacred place. Sirius just grins at the situation, even after years of this kind of interaction, still highly amused that two of the calmest people he knows could get so violent when together. "Remus, love—" Lily tries to reason. "Expelliarmus." He smugly says quickly as you were going off about something. Your wand flying across the table and into the palm of his waiting hand. 

"You were saying?" He lifts his eyebrow at you. 

You don't even think before hurling your tome right at his head. 

That's how two of Hogwarts' brightest were forbidden to study in the library at the same time. 

And how Remus ended up with a purple eye. 

McGonagall strides across the classroom returning her student's latest graded parchment. She could just use the locomoter spell to retrieve all of them at once, but Y/N along a few of her housemates suspect the professor enjoys the suspense. Some groan or silently cheer as they receive their work back, while others anxiously await for theirs. McGonagall hands Lily's with a small smile on her face. 

The witch beams at her parchment. The one that took her a while to put together and feels the need, the pride of showing it off to her friends. Wishing to be a part of a little healthy competition.

“I told you guys this was an easy subject.” She says smugly while showing off the O on the top corner of her parchment. 

“Well done love, congrats!” Remus murmurs half distractedly, pressing a quick peck to the crown of her head, while keeping an eye and straightening as the Professor makes her way towards your side of the classroom. 

Lily, a bit miffed at the lack of competition or ambition, brags, a bit out of character, but still “I bet I've done better than you did.” “Wouldn't be surprised, a bright witch as yourself” Remus gives her a bright smile, the words weren't even out of his mouth when he turned his head back to the front, eyes already back to tracking their professor. 

Not getting the reaction she'd wished for, she heads toward the other witch always competing with her scarred friend when it comes to grades. Practically skipping towards you, she doesn’t even get the chance to come up with a remark as you already interrupt her with a blinding smile. “Another O Lily?” “Yes.” The redhead huffs and her shoulders slump with disappointment, really not the reaction you'd expect from someone that just got the perfect grade on an assignment that took them some time to put together. 

“Congrats dove, wouldn't expect anything less from you.” Lily just turns around and goes back to her seat next to James, who squeezes her shoulders trying to hold back his laughter at the situation, but being betrayed by his shaking shoulders. Which only angers his girlfriend even more. 

Professor McGonagall (along with any other Hogwarts instructor) already knows what to expect from a certain pair of gryffindors, purposely dragging out their bickering and anxiety leaving their scrolls towards the end of the pile. 

Lily, Sirius and James all sit in attention along with the rest of the class –well except for you as you try to pretend you don't care what his grade might be–  as their professor hands out Remus' parchment back to him. 

He beams smugly, eyes immediately finding yours –which seem to have gone against your orders and fixed themselves towards the lanky boy– he simply rests his head on the palm of his hands and with the other hand, joins his index finger to his thumb, forming the circular shape of an “O”. Knowing you were watching, which just aggravates you more. McGonagall distributes a couple more parchments and finally (actually) heads towards you, already letting out a small sigh, knowing the chaos that might descend her classroom like a storm. 

Your knees won’t stop bouncing, I mean, of course you know you did well, you just hope you did better than he did. That’s all that really matters. 

The Professor returns your scroll, trying to hold back her smile. Your eyes quickly scan the parchment. Your entire posture shifts as if you were sitting on a throne and not an old squeaky chair. Remus shoulders' already tensing, having come to learn your body language. And Lily rolls her eyes at the fact that you didn't even open your mouth and have already garnered a bigger reaction than she did with her arrogant words. You don't even need to try hard to make eye contact with Remus, already expecting his eyes to be on you, the same way yours were upon him. 

You know your scroll got less adjustments from the Transfiguration Professor than his did, having heard him (purposely and) loudly commenting to his fellow Marauders'. Your mouth forms your well practised Remus irking condescending smirk, sprawled on your chair you lazily imitate his earlier actions, joining you index finger to your thumb. 

He huffs and rolls his eyes, while muttering a “Well played". 

Lily was watching the interaction like every other student and professor in their class, and against her wishes a small smile crept onto her face, she slightly shook her head, quite glad that either of you took her up on her teasing. This was your game, your competition, even if either of you would never verbally acknowledge it, you still acted upon it.  

She had always had a soft spot for you, the two of you had been inseparable since you'd sat at the same train compartment on your first trip to Hogwarts and later on placed in the same room. You'd heard her complain about James' teasing back in their second year, and later on about James' outrageously embarrassing advances. Which only got worse when she started developing a small crush on the bespectacled boy.

You'd helped her come to terms with her feelings for the loud wizard.

You always fought her battles even when she said there was no need, you fitted right in with the marauders never missing a joke or the possibility of teasing one of them. You cheered for the people you cared for and went out of your way to be there for them. You always tried to ensure people only saw the best version of yourself.

Remus had gotten much better with his insecurity, caused by his furry problem, but there were times that it still dominated the way he acted. Mostly keeping to himself, needing to prove that he was just as good as any wizard without his affliction, he sometimes took himself too seriously. You helped with that, you pushed him, made him lose some of the obsessive hold he had over having to control everything. Which somehow, just made you even more special to Lily. 

It saddened her, James and Sirius that the both of you couldn't see past this rivalry of yours that the both of you would get along.

So if this competition of yours made the two of you interact, come truly alive and lose the control that both of you tried so hard to prove to everyone that you had a handle on everything, she was happy. 

Maybe this would be the way that the both of you would finally stop being prats and would realise that you and Remus were destined to be together, to love each other and to push each other. 

It was so obvious this was all a farce for how you actually felt for one another. And she was full of it.

You guys were each other's drive to not settle. So she wouldn't get in the middle of this. 

A small smirk grows on her face as the both of you (predictably) fell into a small battle of wits. She nods to herself, now deciding she'd even help provoking two of her dearest friends into these situations. It's not her fault this was the only way you'd interact for more than a couple of minutes. James, who was sitting next to her, was looking at her with an arched brow, recognising the scheming look on his lover's face. Which only made Lily smile more. 

She couldn't wait for when their well practised restraint finally snapped. 

[part 2]

A/N eeek I'm so happy I finally posted this! it's been sitting on my computer for months, I just posted up to the part in which I was happiest with... so I think I'll be able to post the next part soon enough! hope you guys enjoyed this first glimpse of these two idiots and are ready to get as frustrated as they do with how much of a slowburn this will be :) feedbacks are much appreciated 🤍

[crescenthistory]

can u do a remus x reader where they are best friends and remus has been in love with reader forever, and reader is kind of a player because she also loves remus but didnt know that the feeling was reciprocated

i did a bit of a different take on this, hope you enjoy it babe

Words: 4.8k

Warnings: suggestive references and themes (talk of shagging, etc.), drinking and partying in hogwarts, fem!reader, use of y/n, sirius' pov for half then your pov (with all the mental tirades that includes), partier!reader more so than player, you have snogged james and mary (in the past), platonic!sirius but borderline fwb at one point, platonic!wolfstar, pining!remus, secretly pining!reader, no slutshaming, background jegulily, confessions, happy ending ofc

a blurb about everyone's reaction

Sirius was in a bit of a difficult situation.

On the one hand, he had a beautiful girl all but crawling into his lap in the middle of an admittedly good party and he knew she would be a hell of a great time.

On the other hand, he was absolutely certain that his best friend was in love with her, despite his many denials, and he was not sure if she herself knew yet.

She had to, right? You had to know that Remus was in love with you with how he had been making puppy eyes at you more or less since first year. The two of you were the best of friends and went everywhere together – it was simply impossible that you had not had a conversation or two about it. But then again, Sirius and Remus were also the best of friends and he had not heard so much as a squeak about any such conversation taking place, let alone him admitting his feelings.

Could you truly be so oblivious? You had to know, and are choosing to live your life as you wanted regardless, as is your right. Would Sirius be an arse if he rejected your current casual advances because of Remus? If he was, would he be an arse for telling you about Remus' feelings or for dictating how a woman conducts herself based on the feelings of a man?

Sirius was way too drunk to be thinking any of these thoughts.

Yet, immediate action was required in order to handle the situation at hand. You and Sirius had been sitting beside one another for a while now, your leg thrown over in between his thighs, his arm wrapped securely around your shoulders, your hand on his chest. The music was absolutely blaring, the alcohol was flowing freely through your bodies, making the places where you touch that much hotter, in all semblances of the word. Sirius knew that if he was to tilt his head down to look at you, your lips would surely smash together.

It was not uncommon for you to shag some lucky bastard at these parties. You were carefree and fun in that way that made you fit seamlessly into your group of friends when Remus introduced you. It was never serious or deep on either front, Sirius knew as much – you and Mary had an arrangement of mutual fun going on for a while and you had even snogged James once before he got with Regulus and Lily.

Sirius participated equally as enthusiastically and the two of you were good friends, so really, it made sense that you ended up in this situation at last.

Still, sirens were flaring in his head screaming "BAD FRIEND, BAD FRIEND" the longer he sat with you like this. Because whenever you did find someone to hook up with at a party, you always left Remus' side to do so, as you were otherwise attached at the hip. And Sirius was the one left to watch him struggle to keep his face from crumbling every time. He was also always the one to poke the bear – or the wolf, if you please – by confronting Remus about his feelings for you constantly, both in a playful and serious manner.

As the designated campaigner for "Remus get your shit together and kiss her yourself", he should not be making that more difficult for his best mate.

He also should not get involved in whatever delicate situation you two had going on, but when his eyes flicked across the room, terrified to make eye contact with Remus wherever he was, determination grew in his chest. Something had to be done.

"Are you good, Siri?" you asked from beside him, words slurred just enough for him to know you were tipsy but not so much that he was concerned.

He took a deep breath. "Actually. Can we talk? Alone?"

Your body grew a bit tense against his, enough that he knew you understood this was not some scheme to get you alone. "Sure," you said wearily, already detangling your body from his.

The two of you got up and hastily made for the portrait hole. Sirius hoped that the cool stone walls outside would help him sober up enough to be able to communicate effectively.

His heart sank just a little bit when he caught sight of familiar tawny hair leaning against the wall by the exit. He knew all too well how this looked. Remus' eyes lit up when they landed on you, his mouth opening to make some sort of greeting when the words died on his tongue at the sight of a guilty Sirius trailing behind you.

You seemed nonplussed. "Oh, hi Rem," you said brightly, almost giggling around your words from the alcohol. You stepped off your path for a second to press a kiss to his cheek, smiling softly at him. "You having fun?"

Remus' face seemed strained, but he kept his smile up, even if just for you. "Yes, dovey. Are you?"

You nodded and squeezed his hand before taking a few steps back and away from him. "Very much so. We're just heading out for a quick chat."

He looked quickly between you and Sirius, never quite meeting his eyes, and Sirius felt as if he was being incriminated just by standing there with his hair slightly tousled from you playing with it. The hurt he could see play across his best mate's face was exactly the type of thing he was hoping to avoid by the awkward conversation he was about to have.

Remus' smile grew more thin-lipped than before as his gaze settled somewhere on your cheek. "Great. Have fun."

You just nodded once more before turning on your heel and making a beeline for the door, seemingly unaware of what just transpired between the three of you. Sirius stalled for a moment, wondering if he should say something, but decided against it in case Remus tried to stop him once he realised what the chat actually will be about.

It didn't much matter, though, because Remus stalked off without ever meeting his eyes.

With a heavy sigh, Sirius hurried over to the door to the common room that you were holding open from the outside, smiling back at him. You truly were such a lovely girl, and he hoped to Merlin he was not fucking anything up for you right now.

Stepping through the portrait, he let the Fat Lady slam shut behind him, cringing at the sudden silence that enveloped the two of you. Though, the air was as much of a welcome reprieve as he had expected it to be, and he breathed in a huge chunk of it to steal his nerves.

"Listen, Sirius, if things got too touchy in there then I'm sor–" you tried to begin, but he all but threw his hands up between you in a display of innocence.

"No, no, dollface, don't you worry about that one bit," he laughed out nervously. "I was very much enjoying myself. I just realised– fuck how do I say this?"

He tried to think clearly and find a way to communicate what he knew in his heart to be true.

"No swearing in my halls!" The shrill voice he knew to belong to the portrait that had tortured him for seven years sounded behind him.

"Sorry, ma'am," he said rather petulantly and held out his hand for you to take so that he could lead you down the hall and away from her. He also hoped you read it as the display of well-meaning and friendship that it was.

You accepted his hand gracefully and his heart did calm down just the slightest from it.

The two of you hurried down the hallway, feeling every bit the teenagers that you were, settling down in a corner just far enough away for privacy. The cool stone did marvels for his overheating, and Sirius took full advantage of it by leaning his head back against them.

"What did you realise?" you asked then.

"Huh?" he answered, admittedly quite dumbly.

You had the decency to laugh at him instead of mock him. "Earlier. You said I didn't do anything wrong, but that you realised something."

Sirius heaved a deep breath. "Right, right," he murmured before clearing his throat. Was he overstepping? Possibly. Would he be ripping the bandaid off anyway? Absolutely. "See, I was having fun earlier and saw it as what it was – just two friends having fun, yeah? But I fear not everyone feels the same."

"I swear to Godrick, if you accuse me of having feelings for you, Black, I will chuck you off the Astronomy Tower," you said through a laugh.

"I'm thankfully not that conceited, babe. But it wasn't you I was referring to."

You looked at him as if to say who, then?

"I think– or no, I actually know for certain, even if the stupid sod won't admit it. Erm, okay, so. Wow, how do I explain that? He's my best mate, you know, and I–"

"Sirius, you are making no sense right now."

"Remus is in love with you."

You had opened your mouth to volley back, clearly expecting him to still be stumbling over his words, but now it was just left hanging open as you stared at him, baffled. The two of you sat in silence for much longer than Sirius could have expected, or perhaps that was just his nerves dragging out the moment. You seemed to be fighting for breath.

"Excuse me, what?!" you breathed out, voice increasing in crescendo throughout your sentence. The what ricocheted down the hall; Sirius grimaced.

"So, you didn't know," he surmises, having answered his mental tirade from earlier. "I honestly don't know how you haven't seen it, that boy has literally been mooning for you for years. I'm surprised we haven't had to keep the actual Moony from tracking you down and wagging his tail at you once a month."

Your face told him that this was not a time for jokes, yet somehow you still laughed at that. Sirius realised with horror that your laugh sounded rather wet and saw you aggressively wiping at your face, as if you were about to start crying. "I'm so confused," you whispered.

Sirius sat there rather dumbly, unsure how to make it any more clear. "I don't know what to tell you, babe. He has feelings for you, always has. I don't blame you if you don't return them and I'm sure neither will he – but, yeah no, I figured you should know. And while I totally respect you shagging whoever you want, I just don't think he could handle it if it were me. So I have to back out."

Miraculously you nodded in understanding, despite his ramblings. Your movements were slow, as if you were trying to let his words settle in your bones, processing years of misinterpreting in a matter of seconds.

Sirius wanted to help. "I've tried to get him to tell you himself, but he hasn't even admitted it out loud yet."

That seemed to snap your attention back to him, a fierce look growing rapidly in your eyes. "He hasn't told you? Then how do you know?!" You waved your hands between the two of you to emphasise his point.

Not quite what he expected, Sirius found himself scrambling for words. "Everyone knows! It's literally written all over his face whenever you're near!"

"I've been looking at that same face a lot and I haven't seen that?" you question then, wielding your argument as if you were about to disagree with him.

"Y/N. Baby." Sirius tried to articulate his words clearly. "Remus has feelings for you. I swear on my life. You don't have to do anything with that information, I just had to tell you."

You narrowed your eyes at him, seemingly scrutinising every inch of his face. "If this is a prank, you're dead, Black."

"It's not a prank. I swear on Effie and Monty Potter, the absolute angels they are." He held his hands over his heart for emphasis.

"You could be wrong."

"I'm not though."

You hummed in consideration, still not letting him out from the hold of your inspecting eyes. "I have to go find out." You said it as if it was plain and simple, and before Sirius knew it, you were standing above him.

"What?" he said, again dumbly. He should never drink again.

"Thank you, Siri, I'll see you later," you called as you were already moving down the hallway at an impressive speed, given you had been shocked still mere seconds ago.

Sirius remained sitting on the floor letting his head drop back against the stone and his eyes fall shut. He has either taken one for the team or massively fucked up – the best part is that he still had no idea which one it would be.

This was bound to be an eventful evening.

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

Your heart was resounding through your entire body and you could barely feel the tips of your fingers – not at all because of the alcohol, you were actually quite certain you had more or less sobered up by now.

No, it was because Remus loved you. Remus Lupin, the best friend you could ask for, the unrequited, unattainable love of your life, for some unidentified reason loved you.

According to Sirius, at least.

Merlin, how you would skin him alive, should he be wrong.

The party had picked up its pace in the few minutes you and Sirius spent outside in the hallway. Someone had conjured up a light fog to roll around on the floor, allegedly to help with the atmosphere but no doubt it was really because the floor was becoming too filthy to look at directly. Warm bodies pressed into each other everywhere and there was a smell of sweat and drinks that on another day might have been enticing. Right now, you only had one focus.

"Where's Remus?" Your words were rushed as you latched onto the nearest arm you could find, grinning brightly when the familiar face of James came into view.

"Hiya, love," he greeted merrily, his other arm wrapped protectively around Lily. "What's up?"

"Remus. Where is he?" you repeated, albeit a bit more abashedly as you saw Lily glance at James sideways.

"Oh," James said and furrowed his brows, as if he was thinking. Then, he turned his head down to look at Lily who was already regarding him. "Where do we think Moony is, darling?"

Lily shifted her gaze between the two of you while biting her lip. She seemed to be making a quick appraisal. "I believe he headed up to the dorm early. Something about feeling tired?"

Nothing got past Lily, and you could tell from her somewhat smug yet concerned expression that she knew something you did not. Or, perhaps you did.

You let out a quick breath. "Oh." You couldn't help the slight guilt that settled in your stomach – even though you still couldn't know for certain that it was because of you. "I'll go find him, then."

"Are you sure?" Lily asked. "He might want to just sleep it off."

Sleep it off?

You nodded, confidence in your choice growing with every second. "I'm sure, yeah, but thanks Lils."

There was not a speck of judgement in her eyes, though her smile remained apprehensive. "I mean, he always wants to be with you, so it should be fine." She winked at you and suddenly your stomach was dropping because did everyone but you know?

Well, perhaps not James because he looked between you and Lily, entertained confusion written all over his face. "Okay, then. Great? See ya later, yeah?"

You squeezed both of their forearms in thanks before stepping backwards away from them, almost knocking into two people on the way. God, this place was packed. You threw some general sound of agreement that hopefully sounded as warm as you intended it before all but running towards the stairs to the boys' dormitory. On the way, you swear you almost lost your life twice, tripping over feet that grew invisible in the fog.

By the time your steps landed on the stairs, you were able to squeeze into the stone wall and quickly run up while avoiding those hanging over the railing. Truly hazardous, these Gryffindors.

The trek down the hall to the dorm Remus had shared with his friends for all seven years of your friendship was as practiced as it was easy. Yet, as your mind was replaying your conversations with Sirius and Lily over and over at record speed, it felt like it stretched on for miles, your own road to Calvary.

Your fingers acted off of instinct as they reached up to quietly rap on the door with two knuckles.

"Sod off," you heard Remus' muffled voice call through the door. You couldn't help the small smile that spread across your face.

You cracked the door open just enough to poke your head through and catch sight of him sprawled out on his bed, face down. Your smile widened. "Me too?"

It was as if his body was a push poppet that suddenly had its strings drawn taut again – his spine straightened and his head whipped around to look at you wide-eyed. He clearly had not expected you. He made some sounds that could probably classify as guffawing before he snapped his mouth shut to sit up and collect himself. The whole process was barely a few seconds, but the syrupy effect on time from the hallway seemed to have joined you into his dorm. Relief washed through your body when he smiled at you, even if it seemed somewhat strained.

"Of course not dove, sorry."

You slipped the rest of your body in through the door and shut it quietly behind you. The silence in this dorm had never felt so complete before.

In your rush to get to him, you hadn't once thought to think of what to say to him. How could you ever possibly breach the topic? It seemed like he could sense your hesitation because he sat more comfortably on the edge of his bed, wool sock-clad feet planted firmly against the floor. He had an inquisitive yet somewhat nervous look on his face.

He beat you to it. "You alright? Shouldn't you be out there, having fun?"

You couldn't help reading some judgement in that, knowing what you now maybe know. "What's that supposed to mean?" you asked, not quite able to hide the potential hurt in your voice.

Remus could pick up on your every mood and his eyes widened comically and he raised his hand as if he was about to talk to a scared wild animal. "Nothing! No, not like that, I just meant – it's a party. You love parties. Did someone hurt you?" His voice grew small by the end of his sentence. You feared someone was referring to Sirius, the only reason he could imagine you leaving a gathering to go be alone with him. You hated the idea.

There were probably a hundred better ways to go about this, but your mind felt muddy with the overwhelming feelings, your earlier drinks and the damn fog that somehow had made its way into your lungs. And you just could not believe any of it.

You were not proud of what you said next.

"Remus, are you in love with me?"

If it had been quiet before, there were no words for the shift in atmosphere after that question. It was like you were alone in a black hole, just the two of you.

Remus' head actually reared back from shock, both from your suddenness and the question itself. His pretty mouth hung slightly open, bottom lip making a slight jerky movement you could only describe as quivering.

"I– what?" He let out, it was somewhere between a gasp and an exclamation.

You took a few steps closer, so that you were standing in front of him, feeling the sudden need to be near, to hear, to know. "Sirius told me."

Remus jerked up too, suddenly standing within arm reach. His eyes were fluttering and his mouth opening and closing in a way that almost confirmed it on its own. "Y/N, I–"

"Remus." You interrupted quietly, sensing his continued shock and oncoming fib. "Don't lie, please."

"I'm so sorry," he whispered then, eyes growing glossy as they flicked all over your face. "I– I'm sorry."

Your eyebrows furrowed as you took in his pained expression. "I don't understand?" you said weakly. Why was he apologising? "Remus, are you in love with me?"

He shut his eyes and turned his head to the side. Your fears were confirmed when he brought up a hand to wipe at the part of his face you couldn't see. "Please," he begged. "Don't."

Don't make me say it.

You have to.

"Remus." Your tone matched his despairing one – his name was your plea.

He turned his head back to you and met your eyes head on with his own red-rimmed ones. A slow sigh was let out through his nose, the sound of defeat, giving in to you as he always did.

Gods, he always did.

"I'm in love with you," he whispered then. Clearly, without any hint at insecurity or deceit.

You took one small step closer, bringing your trembling fingers up to lightly ghost over his cheeks – not quite holding his face, but almost, millimetres apart. You were sure you looked half-crazed as you stood there in silent shock, studying his face in a flurry.

There was no contempt in his face at your stupor. Just guilt and sorrow.

"Why?" you breathed out.

"I'm sorry," was all he offered, once more.

"No, no, don't say that," you insisted, voice suddenly growing stronger. More certain. Your hands made proper contact with his cheeks, and you could feel him deflate beneath your touch. "Please don't be sorry."

At last some confusion drifted into his eyes as he regarded you. "Don't tell me not to apologise; that just makes me want to apologise for apologising." There was light humour in his tone, a smidge of hope. Hope that you wouldn't believe him awful for falling in love with you.

He was in love with you.

You laughed then, not just at his poor attempt at a joke but at the situation, at the prospect.

"You love me?" There was no hiding the absolute awe in your voice.

The guilt was still there, but it made room for softness as he gave you the smallest, saddest smile. "Of course, dove."

You breathed a sigh of relief and leaned forward to kiss his smile into a happy one.

Remus’ body immediately stiffened beneath your touch, shock radiating through him. Then, beautifully, you felt him soften once more beneath you, felt his eyelashes brush your cheeks as his eyes fluttered shut, felt him blow the air from his lungs through his nose in a long sigh, breath warm and inviting against you. Slowly, you parted your lips and brought his between yours, deepening the kiss. Unlike your movements earlier, there was no urgency, there was just him in your hands, him against your lips, his tongue against yours.

You let one of your hands travel to the nape of his neck where you played with his shorter strands of hair, breaking the kiss to lean your forehead against his. Your eyes remained closed as you soaked up up the moment, but you could feel his own burn through your skin. Could hear him guffawing again. A smile settled permanently onto your lips.

“You love me?” you repeated, knowing the answer, but wanting to feel the words on your tongue once more, mixing with him.

He nodded fervently against you, jostling your head slightly to which you let out a soft giggle.

“You– I–” he began, cutting himself off. “Do you…?” he trailed off, unable to finish his sentence.

“I love you,” you whispered, in awe at getting to say the words aloud in this context. “I’m so in love with you, sweet boy.”

His body disconnected from yours briefly, forcing you to open your eyes and support your own weight, as he leaned back to stare at you incredulously, confused, shocked. His eyebrows were furrowed almost as if he were mad, but you knew in your heart that he was not.

“I– no, that makes no sense,” he whispered almost to himself, shaking his head as he tried to process your words. You fought not to laugh at that – because it would seem like you were laughing at him and that was not nice. You would have more than enough time to be not nice later, for now he needed your patience. “You? Love me?”

You nodded with a smile. His body was still close to yours and you took the opportunity to wrap your arms around his waist, interlocking your fingers at the small of his back.

There was so much emotion and vulnerability swimming in his eyes, you would almost feel bad if you weren’t so unbelievably happy.

“I never thought you could have feelings for me,” you confessed breathlessly, grinning wickedly despite the pain you were sharing. “Here I’ve been, running around thinking the greatest love I had ever felt was wholly unreciprocated.”

This only seemed to confuse him further, though he was relaxing beneath your touch. “You… This whole time?”

“I suppose so,” you mused. “I only realised two years ago, though.”

Remus let out a groan and a laugh at the same time and then – thanks to any and every god – he leaned his forehead on your shoulder, burying his face in you. “I cannot believe I’ve been torturing myself and you’ve been… in love with me too. This whole time.”

You dared to kiss the side of his head from where he was leaning against you and tightened your hold on him. Something you had done a thousand times over as his friend, yet this sent entirely new sparks through you.

As if he just thought of something, he lifted his head suddenly to furrow his brows at you. “Why would you ever think I couldn't love you?”

You tilted your head at him. “How many times have you not brushed Sirius off when he makes jokes about us? Or said you would never want to be in a relationship? I thought you might view me as a sister by now.” Despite your teasing, residue hurt still clung to your words.

The grimace was instant and Remus shook his head as if that is the worst thing he has ever heard. “Gods, no, I sure do hope not.” 

You both laughed quietly, carefully. His hands were slow as they went up to hold your jaw, fingers brushing the side of your neck in reverence. “I’m sorry I made you think that, dovey.”

“Don’t be. Then I have to be sorry for snogging our friends in front of you.”

Remus flushed slightly at your words, but the awed affection plastered all over his every feature did not waver. “I don’t want you to be,” he murmured while still caressing you carefully. “I just… I just want you. Will you be mine, dovey?”

Your face inched closer and closer to his, your grins growing mirrored against each other. “I am yours,” you whispered against his lips before closing the distance once more.

The most heavenly kisses you ever shared would be those with your lovely Remus.

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

“Oi! Pads!”

Sirius flinched with his whole body, looking over his shoulder with a sheepish smile to face his inevitable death in the form of one Remus Lupin. He had been waiting for it all night as he partied with James, and had managed to get halfway through his second game of butterbeer pong before it was time for his execution.

Reaching out for James’ hand, he shook it firmly and matter-of-factly. “Lovely knowing you mate, take good care of my brother, yeah?”

James seemed entirely nonchalant to the whole ordeal, shaking his hand in return. “Yeah, sure, safe travels Padfoot.”

Sirius then turned to Remus who was descending the stairs from the dormitory, holding his hands up in defence. “Okay, hear me out–” he begins but he was cut off.

He was cut off by a hug. 

Remus borderline slams into him, locking his arms over his shoulders and dragging him close to his chest. Awkwardly, Sirius returns the favour, patting him on the back and making what the fuck eyes at Mary over Remus’ shoulder.

“You’re a meddling bloody bastard,” Remus said into his ear. 

Here we go.

“But thank you.”

Oh. Oh.

He reared his head back so that he could see Remus and the shy yet pleased smile he wore, and Sirius’ whole face split into a painful, beaming smile. “It worked?” he asked giddily, jostling Remus where he was still trapped in the hug.

“Yeah, yeah,” Remus mumbled, though his grin grew.

The victorious, screeching holler Sirius let out was so loud it could be heard down to the dungeons.

[novvabee]

We're Just Glad You're Ok

summary: poly!marauders x reader, you have a sleep potion mishap

cw: sleep potion malfunction, passing out, health scare?, hospital, swearing a few times, i guess you can call some of it angst?

word count: 2.2k

You only had twelve hours left until this stupid potion needed to be ready in order to show Slughorn. 

This potion had taken you over a month to complete, and here you were, down to the wire, rushing to make sure everything was absolutely perfect. You wanted the highest grade possible, and if you were being honest, thought that was what you deserved. 

You didn’t even want to take advanced potion making, but in order to keep your prefect title, you had to be enrolled in at least three advanced classes, so you endured the tortuous stirring, grinding, and burning. 

And this potion was your crowning achievement of this semester. You had spent countless nights brewing and stewing, not to mention the three failed attempts already.

You were attempting to brew a sleeping draught that would take only one drop to put anyone to sleep in under five minutes. It was practically unheard of, most sleep potions were an entire vial that would start to take effect somewhere between thirty minutes to an hour to set in, but you wanted to prove it could be done quicker and with less potion. 

There were a few tricky ingredients that needed to be tweaked between all of your attempts, but you were certain that you had gotten it right this time.

You just wanted to be done with this, to get this project completed and wrap yourself in bed along with your boyfriends who you had been slightly neglecting due to this potion. It was taking up all of your time and you felt like you hadn’t seen Remus, James, or Sirius in ages. Once this project was turned in, you were more than happy to spend a few days doing absolutely nothing with your boys.

In your tired and overworked state, you must have forgotten to turn the burner down or maybe you added a drop too much of the chamomile extract, but before you could react, your potion exploded.

The liquid got everywhere, drenching your notes, your clothes, your hair, thankfully it smelled heavenly, but you froze.

“Shit,” you muttered under your breath to yourself. Shit indeed. This wasn’t good. A singular drop of this was supposed to put any human to sleep, and you just drenched yourself in the concoction. 

You knew that you needed to move fast. You had very little time before the potions fumes knocked you out, in fact, you could already feel the effects of the sleep draught taking hold. You shook your head and tried your best to power through. You knew that it was late, probably past midnight, which meant that no students would be roaming the halls, no one to see you if you passed out on the cold dungeon floors.

You frantically grabbed your sopping notebook and shoved it in your bag. You turned the burner off, not bothering to clean up or put any of the ingredients away. Slughorn could deal with it, you’d just explain to him what happened and why you rushed out without properly cleaning up after yourself.

You turned to make your way out of the room, but you felt the room spin with you. You caught yourself on a desk and made sure you had a strong footing. This was going to be incredibly difficult.

You fought your heavy eyelids and focused on getting out of the damn classroom. When you made it to the door, you about fell, the weight of your body becoming almost too much to handle.

You made a quick decision to turn right instead of left down the hall. Sure it was quicker to get to your dorm if you had gone left, but that also meant braving the moving staircases. You felt woozy even thinking about trying to make your way up those in this state, so you decided to go the long way, which at least would take you in front of the Slytherin common room. Maybe that way someone would find your incapacitated body. 

You stumbled your way along the long narrow hallways, trying your best not to knock into any statues or painting. You were certain one of the paintings actually scolded you for waking it up, but you couldn’t quite focus your mind on anything other than putting one foot in front of the other. Right, left, right.

You didn't know how much longer you could hold yourself up. Oh well, one night on a cold, hard castle floor wouldn’t kill you, right?

Through your hazy vision, you could make out a figure headed your way.

“Y/N?,” the voice called out. You weren’t sure if it was because of your current state or because of the acoustic castle walls, but the noise bounced around over and over, echoing and making you even more dizzy than you already felt.

You groaned and leaned yourself against the wall, the figure appearing in front of you. You forced yourself to look up and see who it was.

You were met with a very confused and concerned looking Regulus. The sight of him left you with a breath of relief. You don’t know why he was roaming the halls this late, but you were sure glad to have him now.

“Reggie,” you gasped. Time was running out quickly now. 

“Y/N, are you alright? What happened?” he asked, dropping his bag and closing the gap between the both of you.

You felt your legs finally give and saw the hallway start to tilt. Regulus caught you quickly and helped you to the ground, laying you down softly but still worried.

“Reggie,” you started once again. You needed to tell him to get you to your dorm where you had countless antidotes and nullifying potions, at least to Slughorn who would know what to do, but fatigue was winning this battle. “Potion… exploded.” you managed to get out.

Regulus shook his head, still not understanding what was happening. “W-what potion? Y/N!”

You knew you were a goner now, your eyes had finally sealed themselves shut and your limbs were incredibly heavy with lethargy. The last thing you remembered was the words coming slowly out of your mouth, “Get… Sirius.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

You felt sheets under you. Cold and scratchy. You don’t remember falling asleep last night. In fact, you don’t remember much of anything. You heard hushed murmuring around you, but the words were quiet enough for you to not pick up on.

You cracked your eyes open, light flooding in. You were still a bit groggy, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you noticed the high ceilings and the stained glass. This was certainly not your dorm, these sheets definitely did not belong on your bed. No. You were in the hospital wing.

You sat up straight, the movement making your head pound. You looked frantically around, noting the antidotes and potions on the side table, Madam Pomfrey must have been quite confused about your situation.

You looked down to see James at your bedside, hunched over the bed and resting his head on his crossed arms. He looks surprisingly peaceful given the way he was sleeping. You reached your hand lazily out to him, running your fingers through his hair.

This action roused him from his sleep, his eyes fluttered and brows furrowed as he woke. You smiled down at him.

“She’s awake!” he announced.

Not a moment later Sirius and Remus were rushing into the small curtained off room, taking you in and seeming to sigh a breath of relief. 

“Y/N, love.” Sirius said, approaching the opposite side of the bed that James was taking up. He moved around fast and frantic, looking you over for any injuries.

Remus moved in closer as well, slotting himself in right next to James. He took your face in his hands, feeling for your temperature and checking to make sure you were alright.

You didn’t understand at first why they were fussing so much, but the memories started slowly filling your head. You came to the realization that you passed out in the dungeons after your potion mishap. How embarrassing. 

“Love,” Remus said softly, bringing your attention out of your thoughts and onto him, “what happened?”

You groaned again as he helped you lie back down. “Well,” you began, “You know that potions assignment I’ve been working on for so long?”

The boys all nodded their heads, understanding. How could they not, it was practically all you talked about, what you spent all of your free time on, what you ate, slept, and breathed for the past month. Sirius even complained about it taking you away from them.

“I don't know what happened, I was doing everything right. I had all the ingredients measured properly and in the correct order. I just think that the cauldron was too hot or… i don’t know,” you rambled, “anyway, long story short… it exploded.”

The boys blinked at you for a moment. “Exploded?” James asked. You nodded your confirmation.

“But that doesn’t explain why my brother found you collapsing on the dungeon ground.” Sirius mentioned, still confused and worried.

You turned to him and took his hand into yours, squeezing gently.

“It was a sleeping draught, I guess the fumes of the entire thing just affected me.” you explained to him. You laughed to yourself, “at least I know it was a good potion now.”

Remus smiled but didn’t laugh. “We were really worried, love.” he said, shoulders relaxing knowing that you were alright. 

The feeling of guilt rushed into you. It was probably really scary for them, especially since they had no idea what was wrong. Seeing a loved one in that kind of a state and in the hospital must have been stressful and worrying.

“I’m so sorry,” you started apologizing to them, “It was an accident but, I know that must have been really scary for all of you.” 

James shook his head. “No love, you don’t need to apologize. We’re all just glad you’re alright.”

“Yes but, I know that can’t have been easy, especially not knowing what was happening. I hate that I caused you to worry like that.” you continued.

“Hey,” Sirius stopped you, “like you said, it was an accident, you don’t have to apologize for that. And besides, we are your boyfriends, we worry because it’s our job.”

You went to interject but Remus stopped you. “It’s true,” he said playfully, “James about had a panic attack last week when you went out to Hogsmeade without a jacket.”

You laughed and looked at James who nodded and mouthed ‘it’s true’.

“Luckily you made a smart decision and went towards the Slytherin common room so that Reggie was able to find you,” Sirius said. “I owe him big time.”

“Oh Regulus,” you sighed, “I should definitely apologize to him. It probably looked like I was dying and putting that on him…”

“He was actually pretty calm,” Sirius said, “I was impressed. It seemed like he knew exactly what to do. I’m proud of him, I would’ve been a total mess.”

You giggled. “Noted,” you said, “I’ll make sure not to need life saving in front of you then.”

“Glad to see you have your spirit back.” James laughed.

Madam Pomfrey pulled back the curtain closing off your bed area and walked in. “Oh good! You’re awake.” she chimed. “gave us all quite the fright, dear, luckily you were brought straight to me, I had just the antidote for you.”

“And what would have happened if she weren’t brought to you, exactly?” Remus said from beside you, asking out of curiosity.

“She probably would have been out for a couple days.”

“Days?” James asked, shocked.

“Well it’s a good thing I was there then wasn’t it?” Regulus said from the open curtain.

“Reggie!” you called out, glad to see your savior.

Sirius instantly made his way over and in the most exaggerated and over the top way, hugged his brother, making a big display out of it. “Oh my wonderful baby brother. Thank you for saving my love! How will I ever manage to repay your kindness?” he said dramatically, hanging off of Regulus.

“Ugh, get off!” Regulus said, shoving Sirius off of him. Sirius laughed and backed up. “I was just dropping by to see how you were doing.” He said to you.

“I’m doing better now, thanks to you.” you said. “Reggie, I am so sorry, that must have been sort of frightening and-”

“No need to apologize,” he interrupted, “I’m just glad I found you and you weren't spending the night on the cold dungeon floor.

“Well, thank you anyway.” you chuckled. “But if that’s the case, you could have just taken me to my dorm, I have all the antidotes there, you didn’t have to make such a dramatic show of your heroism, dummy.” you sarcastically joked to him. 

“Oh is that so?” Regulus laughed, “Well in that case, I’ll just step over your body next time instead of saving your life.” You laughed along with him.

 Madam Pomfrey cleared you to leave and the boys collected your things for you. You were excited, you knew that now the whole day would be spent with them pampering you to no end. That would mean unlimited cuddles and relaxation and much needed time to make up for with your boys. Exploded potion and Slughorn be damned, you were doing nothing with your boyfriends today.

just some cute poly!marauders content for Remus's birthday :)

[luveline]

hiiii if you’re still looking for remus centered requests, i rly liked your best friend steve giving reader a hickey and couldn’t help but think of Remus too! like him helping a shy reader not feel insecure about being the ‘inexperienced’ one of their friend group… by giving her some experience 👀💞? love ya lots!

love u thank u for requesting<3

—Remus gives you your first kiss, and then a little more than that. You know, between friends. fem, 1.2k

“Will anyone kiss me tonight, or shall I go unkissed, like some leper?” 

You laugh at Sirius’ drama. “It’s not so terrible,” you say, coming up the hallway behind him and James, your face bitten by the cold. 

“I know, my lovely little blueberry muffin,” Sirius croons, leaning back and prodding at your cheeks, the smell of cider stuck to him like a cloud, “how you remain unkissed is a mystery to me. Shall we fix that now?” 

Sirius is your friend, he doesn’t poke fun, but you flush nervously at his question. James grabs Sirius by the shoulders and yanks him away from you toward the kitchen, “Stop teasing!” 

“I’m not teasing! I would love to kiss you, sweetheart, just as soon as I can figure out which one of you is the real one,” Sirius says. 

Remus laughs and closes the front door, the last one in. He wraps his hand around your shoulders. “He’d be so lucky,” he says loudly, sending a sulking, pouting Sirius in the opposite direction, James on his tail in giggles promising to feed him some unbuttered toast if he doesn’t chill out. 

Remus’ arm falls behind your back. “Why does he act like that? Four drinks and he’s in love with everyone. He gets so urgent.” 

You confess slowly, “I can’t say I blame him. Sometimes… I wish someone would kiss me quite urgently, and I don’t even need to get drunk.”

“You do?” 

“Just because I’ve never had one doesn’t mean I don’t want one,” you say, “it’s really weird being the only one who doesn’t– who isn’t dating anyone.” You fluster at your confession, worried it’s too much to share, even while his thumb rubs affectionately into your shoulder. 

“I’m not dating anyone,” Remus says. 

“No, but, going for hookups and stuff–”

You falter as he laughs. “You want one night stands?” 

“No,” you say honestly, “but still. You’ve all done that stuff and I’m like, a twenty something loser.” 

“You listen to Sirius too much. You have an entire life to find someone to kiss you.” 

“I sort of want it now, though,” you say meekly. 

Remus laughs again, his arm wrapping tightly behind your back. You’ve both had a drink too, not tipsy like Sirius but the buzz of it perhaps the cause of your loosened tongue, and his easy touching, his teasing. He smiles down at you kindly, “You want a kiss, is that it?” he asks, “Sirius has upset you and a kiss will make it better?” 

You find you love the feeling of his chest pressed to yours, “I don’t know. It would be nice to have one just so he can stop talking about it.” 

He pulls you right into him and angles his face against yours like he’s going to kiss you, his laughing a soft warmth on the tip of your nose. “You want it right now?” he asks, his hand rubbing sweetly into your back. Layers of fabric feel useless; it’s like he’s caressing naked skin. 

“You can’t kiss me,” you say. 

“Why not?” 

“We’re friends.” 

“What’s a good kiss between friends?” He’s following your eyes, he knows all your tones, Remus wouldn’t play with you like this if he thought it wasn’t what you wanted.

“I won’t know how to do it,” you warn in a whisper, your reluctance clearly fading.  

“Well, you’re very pretty, so any bad kissing cancels out.” 

You bend into him as his arm pulls you up, your noses nearly touching, closing your eyes as he leans in. 

“You sure?” he asks. 

“Mm,” you hum, though he doesn’t kiss you until you nod. 

Your noses press together most of all, the strongest sensation, but then there’s heat as his lips part so slightly and press into yours. He kisses upward and you have the sense to keep pressing down, letting his soft kisses move you with him, like an ebbing wave. You take an instinctive step back and he pauses, until you attempt to kiss him again and prompt him into movement —he takes the lead. His hands grasp at your back like you’re water slipping through his fingers, letting a sound of pleasure filter from his lips into yours. 

It’s so peculiar. It’s like fireworks, like all the books and movies say, but it’s more. It’s so warm, and his lips are soft even as his kissing turns rougher, as he tilts his head to the side and his lips come apart against yours. Your hand climbs hesitantly against his side, then up, then stuck at the place just above his ribs. 

“Touch me,” he says gently, breaking the kiss as your breath comes fast, “wrap your arm around me, it’s alright.” 

“Am I hopeless?” you ask, placing your arm behind his shoulder and tipping back to see his face. 

He shakes his head, frowning, why is he frowning? “Hopeless?” he repeats. His hand comes up to your face, and that’s almost as bad as the kiss, the heat of his palm on your face and his thumb stroking over the slope of your cheek. He uses that movement to turn your head, and when he ducks in for another kiss, he murmurs, “No, I wouldn’t say hopeless,” the end of it lost on your lips. 

This kiss is rougher again. Your heart beats so loudly you can hear the thump of it in your ears as your eyes close and you attempt to fit a hundred wanted kisses into one. He just squeezes you close and returns your enthusiasm, until you can’t breathe, forced to hang your head over his shoulder as you pant for air. 

Remus kisses your neck. It’s a shock: you squirm at the sensation but let your head fall to the side as he does it again, not nearly as insistent as his lips had been on yours but something unsaid in the trail of his nose as it runs back up your neck and he kisses the skin below your ear. He slows, and slows, until he’s pulling away to stare at you. 

You lift yourself up, nonplussed. “I didn’t know it felt like that.” 

Remus shifts his hand from the side of your neck to the front, wiping at the marks of his kissing with his thumb where it wets your skin. “It doesn’t always.” He smiles at you with just a hint of smugness in his eyes. “I don’t suppose you want to know what a love bite feels like?” 

“Oi!” James calls from the kitchen. “What are you two doing?” 

You pull apart slowly from one another. You think he might’ve forgotten where you were, as did you. 

James catches the fall of Remus’ hand where it had been on your cheek and squints suspiciously. “What are you guys doing? I made toast.” 

You can’t look at him. Remus saves the day. “We’re looking for her earring.” 

“You won’t find it with the lights off.” He glares again with suspicion before turning back to the kitchen. “I didn’t even know she wore earrings,” he mutters. 

Remus gives you a sideways look. “Maybe I can show you what it feels like after?” he suggests, voice measured. 

“Between friends?” you ask. 

“No.” He puts his hand to the small of your back and gives you a gentle nudge down the hallway. “Not between friends.”