#sirius learns all this quickly | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ceilidho · 2 months

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sirius c

Johnny’s been bragging about a pretty bird lately. Ghost isn't interested in letting him go down that path alone. (ghoap x reader) [read on ao3 here] general dubcon/noncon tag final chapter first part >> last part

He hungers like a bad dream.

Not one easily shaken off. All his life, it’s been like this. Poor boy with nothing to his name, stomach empty and aching. Every morsel and scrap saved for his little brother, the boy he once thought of as his charge; his to protect. That was a long time ago. Back when he first trained himself to walk on his tiptoes to avoid the loose, creaky floorboard and learned to turn doorknobs slowly so they wouldn’t ricochet back. Back when making any sound when his father wasn’t off working at the scrapyard was anathema.

The pain of remembering doesn’t come often, but when it does, it pulsates through him. It’d be easy to say that it’s all behind him. Easier said than done.

Time has changed him though. With his desires pinned down all his life, he’s grown up gnarled and deformed, a hollow coring down the centre of him.

Even now, the acrid scent of want withers in the air.

“The two of ye have a good time all by yourselves?” Johnny asks when they walk through the front door, talking to the bird but meeting Ghost’s eyes instead.

Ghost’s smile from over her head is smug. A subtle thing, barely a twitch of his lips. Johnny catches it though, his attention always finely tuned to the little things that Ghost lets slip. Always intentional, always with purpose.

Jealousy wars with glee briefly before the latter emerges victorious, Johnny’s smile splitting his face in half. Good. Ghost doesn’t enjoy hurting his boy, but he does take pleasure in giving back what’s been dealt to him. Tit for tat. For weeks now Johnny’s hidden this little bird from him; kept her all to himself, under lock and key. Kept Ghost away from her. As if property weren’t nine tenths of the law.

As if Johnny wasn’t already his. As if what belongs to Johnny doesn’t belong to him in turn.

“We had a nice chat, didn’t we, doll?” he says. Barely pays attention to whatever she says after that.

She must say something nice though because Johnny’s smile is blinding. Dusted with some suspicion, but ultimately satisfied.

She still shakes, even half an hour later, glancing at him from the corner of her eye while cutting flowers behind the desk and baulking when she catches him staring back. He can’t say he’s surprised. His focus unnerves people bigger and stronger than her. Still, after dating the mutt for over a month, her skittishness is unexpected.

Ghost knows fear makes the meat go sour, but still he relishes in the way she squirms and sweats in his presence.

For the better part of the afternoon, she avoids being alone in the same room as him. When he speaks to her directly, she answers as quickly as possible, spitting the words out before hurrying to the other side of the shop to tend to some of the plants. Even eye contact is anathema. She keeps her eyes trained on her work, only occasionally interrupted by customers coming to the counter to cash out.

It grates on his nerves. He doesn’t demand much from the bird, apart from surrender. She can hide her pleasure, cry as much as she wants, shriek and beat his back with her fists—any matter of resistance, so long as she doesn’t try to run away.

So it pisses him off that she acts like he doesn’t exist. Reminds him again that he can never have anything. It’s an itch he can’t scratch, a pressure building behind his eyes and it’s been there for years. Since birth. It’s a hollow in his belly that he can’t fill. A hunger he can’t satiate.

He slips away to corner her in the back office when Johnny gets swept up with a customer, pausing only long enough to admire the shape of her bent over her desk. She flinches when he comes up behind her, his hands flat on the desk on either side of her, caging her in.

“Jesus Christ—” she hisses, her hands tightening to fists on top of the table.

“Don’t let Johnny catch you talkin’ like that,” Ghost huffs, amused. He knows better than anyone how the mutt would take her using the Lord’s name in vain. It pisses him off to no end when Ghost uses it out in the field during a snafu, no reverence of his own for the name. Ghost hasn’t had a god in years.

“What do you want?” she asks instead of responding to that. He’s tempted to ask her if she already knows how Johnny would react to her little slip of the tongue.

“You gonna keep pouting or wanna talk about it like adults?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she says, twisting her head away from him when Ghost dips his head down, smiling at the hard jut of her jaw.

“Don’t play dumb, bird.” He loves the way she bristles at that. “You’ve been avoiding me since we got back. Hardly said a word to me in hours.”

“What does it matter?” she snaps, still looking away from him.

“Because it’s fuckin’ rude,” Ghost growls, pleased when she shivers from the heat of his breath on her neck.

Braced behind her, he doesn’t have a good enough view of her face to see the emotions flashing across her eyes, but he can feel the tension in her shoulders and down her spine.

“You embarrassed or something?” he asks bluntly when she doesn’t say anything.

“No.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“I’m mad,” she spits out.

“Mad about what?”

“Are you serious?”

“I can get Johnny’s opinion if you don’t wanna say why.”

That catches her off guard. “No! Wait—please don’t. Please don’t tell him,” she begs.

“Then spit it out.”

Her mouth opens and shuts on that, the pith of her anger hid behind clattering teeth and a thick tongue.

“I’m…—I’m mad that you…forced me to do…that, and you made me—” She can’t bring herself to say it, the words catching in her throat. “I—”

“Came all over my fingers?”

“Don’t say that,” she snaps.

“You just need to get your lick back,” he says, dismissively. “Then you’ll calm down.”

There’s a second where she frowns down at the desk, not entirely comprehending him, and then his hand is on the nape of her neck. He forces her down easily, bending her over the desk and slipping a finger into her mouth when she opens it to let out a shriek.

She freezes when she registers the intrusion.

“Go on then—get even. Bite me. Hurt me back.”

His fingers spread over her tongue, feeling the ridges and bumps. Her saliva slickens his finger down to the knuckle. He runs his finger over her gums and molars, feeling around the inside of her mouth.

Ghost smiles to himself when he feels her teeth lightly press down, the sharp ends leaving shallow indents in his finger. She holds off biting down harder though, not more than a light pinch. Her indecision is a pleasure all on its own.

“That all? That ain’t gonna do shit, bird. If you want something, you have to see it all the way through.”

Part of him expects the slice of pain through his finger in retaliation for his words. He even feels it for a second—the tightening of her jaw, her teeth digging in deeper, the line of her spine stiffening. It’s the possibility of pleasure that gets him worked up more than anything. The will-they-won’t-they. Like a language he can finally understand; the ringing in his ears clearing for a few precious seconds.

He tells himself it’s not disappointment that he feels when her jaw relaxes.

Defeat radiates off her in waves, her body slumped over with it. He lets his finger sit on her tongue for another few seconds before retracting it, the hand around her neck still holding her flat against the desk but only loosely now. She could slip out from under him if she tried. If she wanted to.

“Okay, doll,” he murmurs before leaning down to kiss the top of her head.

She sags against the desk when he lets her go, her legs almost slipping out from under her. If he didn’t know himself any better, he’d think that the heavy feeling in his chest was pity.

Too bad he does. Know himself better, that is.

“Your fingers taste like dirt,” she spits out right before he leaves, his hand on the doorknob, humiliated right down to her core.

Ghost turns back towards her just long enough to pop her on the ass for that, snorting under his breath when she shudders and yelps.

She still avoids him after that but with less urgency. More like magnets of opposite polarity. Something about her seems subdued though, fatigued. Defeated because a man gave her the opportunity to hurt him back and she squandered it. Chickened out at the last moment and lost her nerve.

He always knew she was sweet as pie.

It’s Johnny that talks her into joining them for a pint at the pub down the road. Not that she has much of a say in the matter. It’s twilight by the time they leave the flower shop, the two of them lingering nearby while the bird sets the alarm and locks the front door. The town is ensconced in a blue hue. Neon signs sizzling in the windows of corner shops and laundromats. Stubborn weeds sprout up from between the cracks in the concrete and ivy ropes lick thick tongues up the brick facades of the nearby houses.

At the pub, Ghost picks a booth near the far wall, nodding at Johnny to get him to slide in first so the bird has no choice but to sit between them. The two of them cut off her only escape routes. Dogs herding sheep; nipping at her heels when she falters and barking when she tries to run another way.

It clearly pisses her off, but there’s not much else she can do besides sit between them and stew in sullen silence. To her right, Johnny yaps about something that she only responds to in clipped, one-word sentences.

Ghost is aware that they’ve only gotten to this point because of her continued reluctance to make a scene. She probably still thinks that after this weekend, she’ll never have to see either of them ever again. That she only has to endure them for a little while longer before being set free—just grit her teeth and bear it.

His lips twitch. If only it were that easy for her. The bird will have to learn that she can’t always get what she wants. Spoiled thing.

He does wonder offhandedly what he’d do if she were to put up a fuss. If she excused herself to take a piss and snuck around back instead. She wouldn’t be stupid enough to just go home. They’ve already broken into her flat once. A second time wouldn’t be nearly as fun. But if she were to flag down the bartender and ask for help or phone the police on her own, would that be enough to chase them off?

The thought lingers in his mind for a moment before Ghost shrugs it off. Unlikely. He’s as stubborn as the weeds pushing up concrete ten times their weight, unbothered by concepts such as consent or approval. He has a lifetime of unmet needs to rectify now that he’s grown, now that he has the power and means to take whatever he wants.

Any desire in conflict with his own gets expunged. If there’s something the bird wants, he’ll see to it himself, so long as it doesn’t involve her leaving the two of them.

He and Johnny carry on most of the conversation without her, leaving the bird to sit between them, awkward and nervous. Her restlessness doesn’t bother him a whit. The only thing Ghost bothers to keep an eye on is whether anyone else in the bar happens to notice her unease. He’s in no mood to deal with someone encroaching on his territory.

It’s no use dwelling on what he would do if someone were to try and take either the bird or Johnny from him. Even thinking about it makes the blood pound in his ears. The glass in his hand squeaks when his grip tightens.

Johnny yammers on about the match on the telly, his eyes darting between the screen and Ghost’s face. Back and forth and back and forth. He played football in secondary—it’s a fact he likes to bring up whenever he can.

In between them, the bird continues to sulk, sipping her drink instead of talking.

When Johnny finally notices her mood, he frowns. “Ye havenae said a word all night, hen. What’s wrong?”

Her lips purse, gaze narrowing and shifting away. “Nothing.”

“Cannae be nothin’—ah’m nae dumb, ye ken.”

Ghost is quick to notice the stubborn jut of Johnny’s lip and the irritated twitch in his eye. It takes nothing to rile the boy up, and he’s been on edge since they arrived the night before. The bird must notice it too because she tenses. At least Ghost’s mood swings are predictable. Johnny’s temper flares up unexpectedly, swift and furious.

“I have to go to the washroom,” she announces suddenly.

It does the trick of jolting Johnny out of the bad mood looming over him like a storm cloud. He blinks instead, the smile shifting back onto his face. The bird forces a brittle smile on her face in return, then scooches down the bench only to bump up against Ghost. He wonders if she expected him to get up to let her out.

She’ll just have to learn some manners.

Ghost waits a beat, eyebrow cocked. The bird looks up at him from the corner of her eye like she might compel him to move through thought alone.

He stares back down at her without moving a muscle.

“Can you move please?” she finally whispers, lips tight around the question.

His dick stiffens in his jeans.

He’s only too willing to oblige when she asks so nicely. Johnny gives her a messy kiss to the cheek before she manages to pull away, wrinkling her nose. Still, he only half-shifts off the bench, forcing her to squeeze out from around him, amused when she mutters a little sorry under her breath and scurries away towards the washroom at the other end of the pub. His eyes follow the sway of her ass until it disappears from sight.

“So. What’d the two of ye really get up to earlier?”

When Ghost turns to look at Johnny again, his eyes have lost much of their playfulness. Only a sliver of it remains in the quirk of his lips, youthful naivety replaced by a well-worn guile. Sly like a fox. He has no doubt that Johnny’s already drawn his own conclusions from the bird’s twitchiness.

“What makes you say that?” he asks instead.

“Cut the shit, Simon,” Johnny says, clipped, his shoulders tensing again. The last of his smile slips off his face. “Ye cannae tell me to trust ye 'n' then run around behind my back without telling me what’s going on.”

Ghost blinks, staring down at Johnny.

“Wanna try that again?” A warning.

Johnny’s face screws into a scowl, his upper lip curling back. Ghost waits, anticipating the flare of his anger, but then it recedes after a few seconds of self-control.

“Jus’ tell me what ye did,” Johnny asks, eyes flicking away for a second before meeting Ghost’s again. He won’t beg, but the desperation is thick in his voice.

When Ghost scans the bar, looking for any sign of someone eavesdropping on their conversation, he finds nothing. Scattered groups and a few stragglers at the bar, drinking themselves into a stupor, swaying on backless stools. A hazy amber light filters through the bar, dimmed since they first sat down.

Still, the shift in conversation requires an accompanying shift in intimacy; it’s no one’s business but his. Ghost shifts down the bench until their knees knock together, until Johnny’s shallow breathing is loud in his ear. His hand drops to Johnny’s thigh, palming the muscle there. When he angles his head towards him, it’s just the two of them; no prying eyes or ears to listen in.

“Been waiting all day to ask, haven’t ya? Thought you’d break hours ago. Had more patience than I thought.”

“Simon,” he whines.

His hand slides up Johnny’s thigh as he speaks. “Ain’t fucked her yet, if that’s what you’re worried about. Only got a couple fingers in her cunt on the drive back.” He gives it a rough squeeze, smiling to himself when Johnny’s leg jerks, knee smacking against the underside of the table and making their glasses wobble.

“Fuck,” he curses, curling his own hand around Ghost’s thigh, like he has to keep his hands busy somehow or he’ll explode. “Thou—hng… Thought you’d wait fer me.”

“Had to be fair, didn’t I?” Ghost says, unable to resist taunting his boy. “Didn’t want the bird to feel left out after the other day.”

The sharp inhale makes his blood go hot, perverse pleasure coursing through him.

“How’s that fair?” Johnny pants, grunting under his breath when Ghost squeezes his hand around his bulge. A flush sits high on his face already, his cheekbones stained red.

“You got yours yesterday on the mats and now she got hers. ‘Sides, the only one who should be pissed is me. Didn’t even ask me before you fucked her for the first time.”

Even trying to muffle his sounds, Johnny’s noisy. Soft grunts and moans slip out unbidden, his legs spreading wide under the table, hips bucking up into Ghost’s hand. The sluttiest thing that Ghost has ever put his hands on. Soft, parted lips and heavy-lidded eyes, glassy with his arousal.

“Bile yer heid. She was mine first,” Johnny grunts. Big words for a man falling apart from having his dick touched.

Ghost squeezes his hand, smiling when Johnny hisses through his teeth. “You were mine first. And what’s yours is mine.”

“Yer a lunatic, Lt,” he says, but the look in his eyes is fond, raptured.

He doesn’t respond to that, already beyond their conversation. Truth doesn’t merit a rejoinder. It is what it is. And maybe he is damaged; maybe there is something deeply wrong with him, buried generations deep. Deeper than subcutaneous fascia; tucked beneath the dermis. Maybe he waters the seed of evil within him with enough violence to keep it dormant.

It doesn’t change the way things are.

His hand squeezes around Johnny’s length and gives it a rough jerk over his clothes before letting go. “Go take a walk, MacTavish. Been a while since our girl left for a piss.”

Johnny has to step outside for a moment after their conversation, heart pounding something fierce. It’d be more manageable if he knew he could sneak off to the bathroom with his girl to take the edge off, but with her still mad at him, he has no choice but to keep his hands to himself. At least until they get back home.

Someone bums him a smoke out front, which he thanks them for before ducking into the alleyway around the side of the bar, leaning against the cold brick.

It’s easier to collect his thoughts away from the noise of the other patrons. Smoking is Ghost’s bad habit, passed on to him over the years they’ve worked together, and it does little to relieve the tension in him. It gives him something to do with his hands though. He’s a fidgeter unless he’s out in the field; fingers drumming against his legs or stroking his girl’s hair or fiddling with the coins in his pocket until someone hands him a gun and tells him to lock in.

He thinks maybe suppressing his impulses for so long out in the field is what leaves him so restless when he’s back on dry land.

His cock still throbs from Ghost’s manhandling. Easy to jerk him around and leave him wanting more. Both his girl and Ghost have perfected the skill. Ghost could’ve tugged him off under the table and milked the tension from his bones, but instead he sent him outside to sulk in the cold, waiting for the bird to do something as stupid as leave without telling them.

Johnny’s mind is in such a disarray that he can only stare in disbelief when the backdoor swings open and his sweet bird comes tumbling out.

His mood flips so fast that it nearly blinds him. Anger snaps into him like a rubber band, quick and sharp. He almost can’t believe it. She tried to skip out on them without being noticed. Only happenstance had him already loitering in the alley, practically waiting for her to make her escape.

The look on her face when she spots him is priceless though. Shocked dumb, her eyes big and wide, and her mouth gaped open. He stubs the cig out beneath his boot and stalks over to her, still rooted in the same spot by the backdoor looking guilty as sin.

“On yer way out, hen?” he asks, stepping in close enough that his chest almost bumps hers.

When she takes a step back, she bumps into the steel door behind her. Johnny follows her step for step, blocking her in with his body. Cutting her off from the rest of the world.

“I was gonna—” she mumbles, but he cuts her off before she’s finished her sentence because he’s nearly out of patience.

“Gonna what?” he mocks. “Go home? Without us?”

“I didn’t want to go out in the first place,” she snaps, her anger flaring up suddenly. Johnny’s cock pulses, leaking against his thigh.

His temper nearly gets the better of him. For the way he lets Ghost treat him, he doesn’t extend that same liberty to anyone else. Even his girl. He has to slow his breathing, let it wash over him and wash away the anger blistering his insides.

He barricades her in with a hand on the door behind her, lets the sheer size of him do the talking instead. His breathing picks up when her eyes widen.

“Bit impolite to ditch us without even sayin’ goodbye. Matter of fact, ye havenae said a word to me all afternoon.” He ducks low enough that their noses touch. “Ye’ve had a real unpleasant fuckin’ attitude today and I’ve had it. What’s got ye all agitated?”

Her attitude breaks there, anger receding back into her. There’s a moment where he doesn’t think she’ll answer him, that she’ll try to bolt down the alleyway instead and he’ll be forced to chase her down and pin her to the dirty ground like a runaway animal. His pulse ratchets up at the thought.

Then her bottom lip wobbles.

“On the drive home, we—” Here she draws in a watery breath, looking almost too ashamed for words, “—Simon and I, we…—”

He tilts his head with faux sympathy. “Ye did what?”

“He put his…” she cringes, still unable to finish the sentence.

“Ye fooled around before driving home, hen? Is that it?”

She nods, teeth sunk deep into her bottom lip to keep from sobbing.

Seeing her break down makes him go gooey soft. He wraps both arms around her waist and pulls her in close, resting his chin on top of her head and swaying with her in his arms, a gentle rock meant to calm her down. “Och, I ken. That’s what’s been botherin’ ye?”

She stares up at him woundedly. “He told you?”

“‘Course Simon told me, baby,” Johnny coos.

It’s not altogether truthful, acting like he’s known all along when in fact Ghost only told him moments ago. But he likes the way she looks up at him with big, guilty eyes, tears clumped in her lashes.

She cringes, mortified. “And you’re—are you mad at me?”

“No, baby, I’m nae mad,” he protests, letting go of her waist to cup her cheeks, dropping a soft kiss on her parted lips. “How could I be mad at ye? My perfect, perfect girl. You’ve done nothing wrong at all.”

“I don’t get it. You should be mad at me, I—” Again she cringes and his heart hurts. His poor girl. “I…I just…I feel like I cheated on you.”

“Ye dinnae do anythin’ like that, baby,” Johnny tuts, dropping another kiss on her lips.

Comforting his miserable girl is a treat that he didn’t even realize he was missing out on. It almost makes him feel bad for withholding the truth that would actually comfort her. If she knew what he’d gotten up to with Ghost on the gym mats the night before, she wouldn’t be making herself sick at the thought of betraying him. That time has long come and gone. They’re both under new ownership, new rules.

She follows him back inside because she’s a good girl. Always has been. The past week has been a challenge, sure, but nothing insurmountable. Nothing that could ever really come between them. Not that he’d let it.

Besides, all it tells Johnny is that their relationship is built on a solid foundation. Strong as bedrock.

He guides her back in with a hand on her back. She still seems dazed when she’s back sitting between the two of them, Ghost now barricading the other side of the booth. His lieutenant barely looks fazed at the sight of the tear tracks running down her cheeks or the slight wobble of her bottom lip.

“Thought you weren’t coming back,” Ghost says, his tone ambiguous. It’s anyone’s guess if he means it or not. Johnny’s hard pressed to believe it though. Something about the dull amusement glinting in the dark of his eyes contradicts his words.

“We jus’ had a wee chat outside,” Johnny says, speaking for both of them.

“All good?”

“We sorted it out.”

Johnny knows that Ghost sees something else when he glances over their girl. She looks lost between them. Out of sorts.

“You still upset, doll?” Ghost asks her, prodding more than comforting.

Her bottom lip trembles. “…Yes.”

“Spit it out then. All that stress ain’t good for ya.”

The look she tosses him out of the corner of her eye is dark. “Everything about this is just so fucked up.”

“Why do ye keep thinkin’ this is bad?” Johnny asks. He drags his nose down the side of her throat while he speaks, gorging himself on the perfume of her skin. Her natural scent is pungent with anxious sweat, a sharp, acrid note that he aches to lick off.

“Because it’s not normal—I didn’t go into this thinking that—” She stiffens when Johnny dips his tongue into her collarbone to lap at the salty skin there “—Johnny, knock it off. We’re in public!”

“So what?” he murmurs, licking the same spot again, the flat of his tongue running over her skin and leaving a wet trail up the side of her neck.

Around them, the lights flicker as people walk from the bar back to their tables, shadows dragging across the floor and over the walls. A server passes by with a round of beer for a nearby table.

“Where does this even go?” his pretty girl croaks, tears brimming in her eyes again. “What happens after this?”

Johnny glances up at Ghost almost instinctively, looking for something. Reassurance; an answer. Even he’s not clear on what exactly he needs from the man—just that it’s important. Just that it’s the only thing that matters.

“The same thing as always, hen; nothing has to change. Just have to think a bit bigger.”

“But what if I don’t want to?”

The look Johnny gives her is pitying.

“Ain’t that kind of situation, doll,” Ghost grunts.

A tear spills over her waterline and down her cheek. Johnny barely restrains himself from leaning over and licking it up.

Getting her back home without a fuss is nothing short of a miracle. Johnny keeps an arm around her waist the entire walk back just in case though, Ghost at their rear following them from just a few steps behind. No chance of her slipping off without one of them catching her.

Part of him feels for the poor bird. She never would’ve chosen this for herself—two brutes following her home, intent on keeping her. But the heart wants what the heart wants. He doesn’t think he’s strong enough to give her the option to leave.

It’s not like he knows what he’s doing either. Life was simpler before he had Ghost’s voice in his ear. Back when it was just his own voice in his head.

But the bird has never had just him, has she? They’re always been a package deal, him and Ghost. One and the same. Ghost’s voice in his head telling him where to go. She’d know if she could crack open his head and look inside; root around until she found the bit of Ghost lodged in him like shrapnel in a wound.

Sometimes he wonders at his luck in picking the right people to call his own. The wrong person might have taken advantage of his nature.

She sniffs, resigned to her fate when Ghost opens the door to her flat, her key somehow already in his hand. Must have swiped it at one point during the night. Still, she follows him inside without remarking on it.

“Would you like coffee?” she asks sardonically, her tone belied by the way her hands shake when she hangs up her sweater.

“Dinnae bother, hen,” Johnny says, almost pityingly.

They both know what’s coming. What’s just around the corner, waiting for them to drop the ruse. Ghost stands in the hall like a spectre, staring down their girl with an intensity that doesn’t waver even when his gaze shifts to Johnny. He’s always looking down at them.

Johnny preens under his gaze. It’s nice being wanted. More than nice—it’s an imperative. The thought of losing Ghost’s attention leaves him cold, an ache deep in his core, like a cancer spreading from organ to bone.

Breathe in and out.

This time when he tugs her in by her waist, she goes limp, stumbling into him, hands splayed on his chest and her chin already tilted up.

Johnny gets lost in the kiss, his lips sliding slick over hers, tongue licking into her mouth. Her taste is familiar, but it’s different this time somehow. Heightened. Creamier, sweeter. She whimpers into his mouth when he squeezes her closer, her breasts squished against his chest. Tits so soft that he salivates thinking about popping her nipples into his mouth.

His hands run up and down her back, groping her hips and waist and the underside of her butt, squeezing her cheeks until she squeaks and tries to pull away from him.

“Wanna wrestle? Is that it?” he purrs, strands of saliva stretching between their lips when he breaks the kiss.

“Johnny—” she gasps, twisting her face away to breathe only for him to chase after her, hand sliding up her back to grip her by the neck.

There’s no plan for how this should go, but when Ghost grabs a handful of her shirt and rips her from Johnny’s arms, he knows his turn is up. The shock of feeling her ripped away almost sends him spiralling, teeth already bared. Animalistic rage washes over him. That’s his girl, the one he hunted down to exhaustion and dragged home.

“Stand down,” Ghost snarls when he takes a step forward. His instinct is to charge, overwhelm the man circling wide, rough hands around his girl’s arms and tugging her close.

The sound of Ghost’s voice stops him in his tracks. Keeps him from taking another step closer. He shakes off the anger, the red rage seeping from his vision.

“Aye, sir,” he croaks. When he swallows, it’s thick. Viscous.

Watching someone else strip and take his girlfriend apart fills him with equal parts nausea and delirium. Johnny follows the two of them into the living room on shaky legs, bracing his hand against the doorframe to keep from stumbling. Her shirt comes off first. Ghost

It’s not like the thought never occurred to him. Ghost even told him earlier about their romp in the van. It’s the seeing that’s pain inducing. World changing. His reality collapses around the notion that he’s letting this happen again. That he’s encouraging it this time even.

Saliva pools in his mouth when Ghost pulls the bird into his lap, forcing her to straddle him. With Ghost still fully clothed, the contrast between the two of them is stark. She trembles over his lap, naked. Vulnerable. Her knees have to spread so wide to touch the couch under him that her bare cunt is forced to grind against his jean-covered crotch.

When she glances over her shoulder, looking to Johnny for reassurance, his heart almost breaks at the distressed look on her face.

Viper-quick, Ghost grips her by the chin and turns her head to look at him instead. “Don’t look at him,” he murmurs, a soft command in his voice. “Eyes on me.”

She listens like a good girl, hands perched delicately on his shoulders. “But, I want Johnny—”

“You’ll get him later. S’not about him right now.”

Johnny’s head spins, dizzy with lust. He has to rub his hand overtop his jeans, palming the shaft straining against his zipper.

The moment Ghost reels her in for a kiss, a big hand on the nape of her neck, and their lips slot against each other—the first time Johnny’s seen Ghost kiss someone with his own eyes, the first time he’s watched his girlfriend kiss another man, and not just any man, but his superior, the man he’d build an effigy to if it meant he got to keep him for the rest of the time—his vision doubles.

Ghost kisses like a plundering, holding her in place while he takes what he wants. When she whimpers into his mouth, Johnny’s cock jumps. Broad hands hold her in place, one sliding down her back and curving over her ass until calloused fingers rub at the soft folds between her legs, one finger to stretch and two to make her whine.

“Get over here, pup.”

He almost doesn’t hear the command at first, his attention wholly fixated on the way Ghost’s fingers piston into his girl’s pussy, the veins in his hand flexed and protruding.

“Johnny.” He hears it the second time, head snapping up to find Ghost staring him down. “Come here.”

The moment he lets go of the wall, his knees buckle, sending him to the ground. He crawls the rest of the way over, half-delirious. The coffee table is pushed unceremoniously out of the way, books tumbling onto the floor. She squawks in protest; says something about scratching the floor, but then Ghost pulls out his fingers to give her pussy a sharp slap and her eyes roll back in her head, the words knocked clean out of her.

“What do I…” Johnny asks, trailing off when Ghost��s fingers slip back into his girl’s pretty, stretched hole.

His mouth waters at the sight.

He wets his lips when Ghost spreads his legs, forcing the bird’s legs to spread wider as well, ignoring the way she whines at the stretch. The thick fingers spearing her open pull out, dew-coated and glistening. His groan is guttural when Ghost’s fingers drag from her hole to her clit, stroking her back and forth before

“Put that mouth to good use,” he orders, spreading her lips with his fingers and framing her hole.

It wouldn’t be more inviting if she hung mistletoe over it. He goes willingly, crawling forward until he’s between Ghost’s legs, his nose almost grazing her pussy, eyes locked on the wet hole between her legs and the tight rosebud winking at him from just a bit higher. The most gorgeous sight in the world. Men have fought and died for less.

Despite the fact that this is his girl, there’s something sacred in being chosen by Ghost. Being given the honour of eating his girlfriend out. He’s always enjoyed the thrill of being Ghost’s chosen favourite. Unspoken, maybe, but undeniable. They orbit each other like binary stars.

It's a bit different when his lieutenant is holding his head down into his girlfriend’s pussy and telling him exactly how to rub his tongue over her clit. Ghost’s hand like a brand on the back of his neck, tears building in the corners of his eyes because it’s too much, too much, too much.

“There, bird,” Ghost murmurs, stroking a hand up her back. It barely settles her. “Ain’t that better? Still gonna cry when you’re getting your cunt licked?”

She does cry too. Big, fat tears that Ghost licks up when they dribble down her cheeks. Johnny barely registers it though, face buried in her cunt, tongue shoved in her hole and dredging out every drop of slick.

It ends too soon for him. A hundred hours would be too soon for him though. Ghost fists the back of his mohawk and tugs him away from her drooling cunt, nearly ripping out his hair when Johnny resists, trying to chase after her pussy.

“Simon—” he gasps, tears welling up in his eyes.

“Fuck. That desperate, pup?” Ghost sneers.

“Please, Lt,” Johnny pleads, licking her essence off his lips. “Jus’ gimme five more minutes. Ah need it—look at her—”

“Johnny,” his girl begs, thrusting her cunt back towards Johnny’s face. Ghost grabs a handful of her ass to hold her still, chiding her when she whines.

“Desperate fuckin’ slags,” he sighs, beleaguered. Long suffering. Like no one in the world has had to endure the hardships he’s faced.

The next few minutes disappear into a blur of clothes tugged off and thrown across the room, Ghost dragging the two of them into the bird’s bedroom. Her little bed hardly seems big enough for two grown men, but there are no other options and Johnny’s hardly solution oriented at the moment.

He hasn’t had enough time to think about what it might be like. For all of the assumptions that could be made about his sexual proclivities, he’s kept a few things close to his chest. Never shared a girl before, no matter how many times the thought has crossed his mind. It’s a desire he’s kept at a distance, only looked at from afar.

The reality is so much worse.

Worse because Ghost’s hand curls around his cock when he guides him through it, slick with lube. Almost too tight at first, clearly mimicking the way Simon likes to jerk himself off, even though Johnny prefers a slightly looser grip, a little slower, more indulgent.

Worse because it’s so much better than anything he could’ve ever imagined.

Ghost positions Johnny over her, big hands on his hips and Johnny has never felt like he had narrow hips until this very second. Lube is drizzled over the furl of his entrance and his head is spinning, staring down into his girlfriend’s eyes as she watches the two of them wide eyed, still so anxious and it makes him want to soothe her, coo down at her that he’s got her and everything’s going to be just fine, but that thought is snipped right out of him when Simon lines himself up and presses in and Johnny’s vision goes white.

He loses himself in those first few moments. The girl beneath him vanishes. She’s just a warm, wet hole for him to fuck, to relieve himself from the pressure of the cock seated in his ass.

The blunt intrusion has him gasping for air. It’s beyond the pale; a sensation beyond whatever he might’ve imagined in the past. He’s thought about it once or twice—never with enough detail to guess how it might feel to have a man fuck him, but enough to think that he might like it.

He never could’ve anticipated just how much.

It’s sublime. White hot; scorching. Any lingering pain dissipates, chased away by the blinding pleasure of the cunt wrapped around his cock. Hot and tight and dripping wet. When she clenches around his dick, Johnny’s mind shatters. Fragments into a million pieces. He’s held in place by the rough hands on his hips, the nails dug into his back. A man’s lips on the back of his neck press a kiss into the sweat-coated skin, sweeter and softer than he deserves.

“Fuck,” he gasps into a sweaty neck, eyes squeezing shut.

Don’t get all quiet on me now, Johnny hears from behind him, Mancunian accent slipping into his ear. Some of the words disintegrate before reaching his ear. Too far away.

The massive weight of Ghost at his back acts as a lodestone. A star guiding him home. A voice in his ear growling about how tight he is, how good his hole feels around Ghost’s shaft. His perfect pup and bird.

Tell me I’m good enough for you, tell me I’m good, I’m good.

Gentleness is a luxury he isn’t granted. When Ghost draws his hips back, he expects a moment of reprieve, a moment to catch his breath. Then he snaps his hips forward again, hurtling Johnny up the mattress, the bird smothered under him.

“Simon—fer fuck’s sake!”

Underneath him, his girl keens, stuffing her own fingers in her mouth to muffle her screams.

He grunts out a curse when Ghost batters into him harder than before, his hole burning from the stretch of taking Ghost’s cock. Hung like a bloody horse. The hands on his hips shackle him in place. He couldn’t wiggle out if he tried.

It’s all too good, too much. Staggered breaths, black spots on the edge of his vision. Hips pumping mindlessly, rhythm dictated by Ghost’s pace. Better than anyone or anything that’s ever come before.

“Good fuckin’ boy,” Ghost growls at his back, voice pitched low. “Better like this, ain’t it?”

Johnny chases after his release like it might get away from him, pounding into the plush cunt beneath him with a mindless fervour. Her little yips are music to his ears.

“Sir, please—” he gasps, feverish, his drool pooling in the divot beside the bird’s neck. “I need ta—lemme come, sir, please—”

His mind is emptied out, full of cotton and dreamy thoughts of pussy and cock. Her wet hole squelches with every thrust, creamy soft around him.

He yelps when a big hand is shoved between his legs, fingers circling the base of his cock squeezing.

“Gotta earn it, boy,” Ghost pants, a harsh laugh to his voice. “Haven’t heard the bird come yet.”

Her eyes widen, the space between her brows pinched.

“I got ‘er,” Johnny slurs. His eyes go half-lidded. “Ah’ll make ‘er come.”

Johnny’s hands grope all over her face, squishing and pinching her cheeks. Brushing her hair out of the way. Wiping away stray tears and licking them off his fingers. Feeding her his tongue.

It’s a shame no one else will ever be able to see his pretty girl this way, eyes glossy and mouth hung loose, her perfect pussy stretched open on a big cock. But he’d kill anyone other than the man bruising his hips for seeing her like this. Even the thought makes violence fester in his belly. Images flash across his mind: gouging out their eyes with his thumbs, tearing their throats out with his teeth.

Her teeth clack together with each thrust, jolting him back into the real world.

“J-Johnny—” she gasps, on the verge of hyperventilating.

“Shh—yer a’right,” he shushes her, dragging a hand down her face.

He can feel it in his loins, balls tightening. Stomach clenching. He needs her there with him though, dangling over the edge of release. A thumb on her clit has her in near hysterics, on the verge of hyperventilating. Chest arched, beaded nipples hoisted high enough for Johnny to dip his head and suck them into his mouth, one after the other. Then chewed and licked and bitten for his pleasure.

“Nono, it’s too—hng, shit, ohohoh—h-hard, Johnny—”

He runs his tongue up the crevice between her tits, sucking on the delicate patch of skin at the base of her throat.

“Squeezin’ me sooo fuckin’ tight, hen—shitshitshit. Ye gonna come?” Johnny asks, pinching the little bud between her legs until she squeals and clenches around him. His words are slurred, whole body on fire.

“No—no—I’m not—”

“Don’ hold it back—c’mon, gimme it.” His lips split open, feral, a snarl revving deep in his throat, teeth bare like an animal. “I wan’ it, I wan’ it, I wan’ it—”

When Ghost’s fingers loosen around his cock, Johnny comes harder than he ever has in his life. It knocks the wind out of him. Submerges him in dark water, choking him. Electric pulses up his spine and down to even the backs of his knees, his whole body electrified.

And his pretty girl takes every hot rope of come spurting out of him. Lets him come deep in her slick hole. Legs spread wide for him, hips gyrating. Fuck, take it, hen, jus’ lemme—tha’s it, what a good fuckin’ girl.

Johnny barely registers collapsing on her. He does register Ghost pulling out of him, his hole clenching around nothing. In another life, he might be grateful for the reprieve, but in this one he groans, mourning the absence.

“Simon?” he mumbles into the bird’s tits, his words almost smothered.

A hand cards through his hair. “Down, boy. Need to clean up.”

Ghost leaves them there, tangled in the sheets, Johnny’s hips still flexing in half-hearted thrusts, chasing the last of his orgasm. Only when his cock is too sensitive to keep in her does Johnny pull out, flopping onto the bed beside her.

Johnny hears Ghost turn the tap, water running into the sink. The going-ons in the bathroom are beyond his purview though, too fucked out to pay attention. His body throbs with a deep ache. Tomorrow he’ll be sorer than sore, no use to anyone.

When he hears the water turn off, his eyes crack open, flicking over to the man walking out of the bathroom, his bare cock swaying between his legs.

His cock is an ugly, brutish thing. Thick at the base with prominent veins running up the underside. Johnny’s mouth waters. Part of him can’t quite believe he took a cock of that size, his first ever. His first. The longer he stares, the deeper that thought penetrates. That dick took the only virginity he had left. The big, angry thing dangling between Ghost’s legs, flushed red and uncircumcised, the skin around the head pulled back.

Ghost comes over to the bed only to grab their girl by the ankle, tugging her towards the edge of the bed.

“S-Simon?” she stutters, eyes wide and concerned. Ghost ignores her panic, climbing over her prone form.

“What’re ye doin’?” Johnny mumbles, twisting over onto his side.

“Had your fun,” he grunts, spreading her legs wide enough to accommodate him, unmindful of the way she gasps and tries to squirm away. “Now’s my turn.”

“Oh god—” she whimpers, already shaking, a nervous sweat building over her brow.

Ghost heaves her legs over his shoulders, nearly folding her in half, before driving into her with the single-minded intensity of a rutting bull. Their poor girl hangs on for dear life, hands clenched in the pillowcase. The tattooed arm braced beside her head bulges with every thrust, the muscles bunching with the effort to hold himself up.

He’d feel worse for her if he had any energy left in his bones.

“Fuckin’ ‘er like a stallion, Lt,” Johnny murmurs, lips forming a loose smirk. Teasing now that he’s not on the receiving end.

Ghost ignores him, too intent on chasing his own release.

It doesn’t take long for Ghost to come, pounding her sore cunt with deep, powerful strokes until a groan rumbles out of him. The base of his cock is frothy with their mixed release, Johnny’s come slicking his way. Johnny can’t see much from his vantage point on the bed—can’t see the way Ghost’s ass flexes with every thrust or the way his balls tighten up right before emptying out into her waiting cunt—but he recognizes the telltale signs: the deep plunges, the loss of rhythm, Ghost’s flared nostrils and pinched brow.

The bird pants under him, on the verge of hyperventilating. She doesn’t so much as twitch when he pulls himself off her, legs akimbo. Ghost’s softening cock rests against his thigh still drenched in her juices. Distantly, like a thought cast off into orbit, Johnny wonders what Ghost’s cock would taste like if he were to slide it down his throat now.

His heart goes firehot when Ghost rearranges the two of them so that he sits against the wall with the bird between his legs, her knees hooked over his, drenched pussy open for his gaze. Ardour moves through his sluggishly, energy renewed. Reinvigorated. Ley lines crossed through him, trenches scored through the muscle and meat.

Ghost hooks an arm across her chest to hold her in place, anticipating her instinctive attempt to squirm away. Her blown out pupils speak for themselves.

“What’re you still doing over there?” Ghost grumbles, spreading her folds wide with two fingers. “Get over here and clean her up.”

Like a dog on a leash, he goes, a thick finger tugging him by the collar.

#ceil writing #cod x reader #soap x reader #ghost x reader #ghost/reader #ghost/soap/reader #ghoap x reader #soap/reader #john soap mctavish x reader #simon ghost riley x reader

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santaasi · 4 months

Text

raison d'être

pairing: james potter x shy!reader

summary: james potter never thought that the most terrible day of his life could give him a new reason for existing

warnings: muggle au, fluff, no use of y/n, english isn’t my first language

word count: 2.3k

a/n: i’m alive!! but i feel like with all my uni and graduating stuff i just lost inspiration. but i promise that very soon there will be more fics! love u all. have a good time readings my new work <з

JAMES POTTER HAS NEVER BEEN A LOSER. On the contrary, his life has always been like an endless lottery win. Ideal and loving parents, who provided him with everything he needed and supported him at every step. Friends who were always there for him even in the worst. A perfect career in sports that was only going uphill every day and promised to take James to new heights. James Potter was a golden boy who always seemed to be surrounded by a halo of luck. In all his twenties, he didn't know what failure and lose were. Troubles avoided him and it was something familiar to him. That's why when everything went wrong on one of the most important days of his life, James was taken aback.

It was one of hundreds of other summer days when the weather in London was pleasing with its sunshine and warmth. And that was the day James Potter overslept for the first time in his life. And it would be fine if he was late for training or a regular meeting about plans for the week, but… James Potter overslept and was late for a meeting with their future sponsors, who would decide the fate of the team and its entry into a more perspective professional league.

But apparently this was not enough for fate (if it ever existed). The fate decided to mock James more by taking all his luck and replacing it with failure. Because as soon as he left the house and got into the car, it didn't start, although last night, when he returned from another get-together with Sirius and Remus at the bar, everything with his car was fine. He had to ride in a completely packed bus, breathing in sweat fumes and feeling someone's elbow dig into his lower ribs. By the time he got to the bus stop, the air in his lungs was starting to run out. And besides all that, James had to walk the long way to the sport base to protect his ass and buy coffee for everyone at the meeting, to pretend that this was what he had planned from the very beginning. It was Sirius's plan, which, to James' great surprise, sounded really good for the first time in what seemed like forever. But instead of going to the usual café on another street, James ran into a new coffee shop, which was right next to the sports base, which decently helped to shorten his time.

A bell rang over James's head as he entered a softly lit, bright space with a couple of tables and guests who were sitting here, working and drinking pleasantly smelling coffee. For a very recently opened place, the coffee shop probably really had a lot of popularity in the area. James covered the distance from the door to the cash desk in a couple of steps and opened a dialogue with Sirius, quickly rattling his order to the barista, whom he did not even deign to look up at.

"’m sorry, could you repeat the order more slowly? This is my first day and..." you whispered softly, biting your lip uncertainly, and James looked up. His gaze is full of anger, which made you swallow a lump in your throat.

You've never been good with people. Large crowds scared you, and even with your close friends you preferred to message rather than call. But when life shook you up and the deadlines for paying for college were already burning, you had to get over your fear and be interviewed at a new coffee shop near your house, where an employee was urgently needed. A week ago, you were over the moon when you were accepted. The job didn't seem difficult and learning the basics of barista work was even interesting, and most importantly, the customers were all friendly. And you even have a hope that working with people won't be so bad. But as soon as you were faced with James Potter's eyes full of irritation, all hope for something good immediately disappeared, replaced by fear and nervousness.

"Or... or I can call another more... experienced specialist..." you began softly, stumbling through the words.

When James Potter entered the café, he was really annoyed because of the plans that didn't go the way he wanted. But as soon as his gaze meet your frightened doe eyes, his face immediately softened and all the emotions that he had experienced before faded into nothing but pure adoration.

You were beautiful. No. You were lovely. You looked like a small frightened deer that has met a hunter in the forest. Innocent. Sweet. Elegant. James Potter didn't know that there were perfect people in this world, but looking at you, he was convinced of it. His world seemed to stop for a second, concentrating only on you and on awkward lowering of your stunning eyes and how you bit your lip and how your thin fingers was nervously fidgeting with the bottom of your apron.

You cleared your throat and said something. James didn't hear it. He was consumed by you. He wanted to get to know you. Beautiful pictures were already playing in James's head, like movie stills of how he would ask you for your phone number and how you would smile and hand him a crumpled tissue, which he would, of course, keep all day as the apple of his eye. He has already imagined your date. How he takes you to one of those silent film festivals that were taking place in London right now. How you will chat for days on end without thinking about anything. How at the end of the evening he will take you home and slightly bending down, the distance between you will be reduced, and then…

As soon as you turned around to leave, James immediately fell out of his fantasies, quickly trying not to let you leave. He reached across the counter and grabbed your wrist, forcing you to pay attention to him again. But as soon as he realized how uncultivated he was by violating your boundaries, he immediately took his hand away, stuffing them into the pockets of his jeans, guiltily lowering his eyes to the floor. It was not typical for James Potter to blush, but he could feel the heat rising up his neck, scorching his cheeks.

"Um... sorry... I-I can repeat the order," James said nervously, and you noticing his change of mood and awkwardness relaxed a little, listening attentively to his order once again.

You quickly handed him the check and asked him to wait next to the pick-up counter, smiling sweetly, which made James's heart skip a beat. He nodded wordlessly and swallowed, still feeling the tingling in his hand where your fingers touched his skin.

Waiting for his order, James couldn't take his eyes off you. Everything in him screamed that he should come up and ask you out or ask for your number, as he had done hundreds of times.… But he couldn't... something was stopping him. And so when his name came off your lips (he didn't think that his own name uttered by someone could make him almost faint) and you handed him a bag with his order, all he could do was whisper a quiet "thank you" and leave the coffee shop without even turning around.

He spent the rest of the day as if in a dream. James was sitting in a meeting trying to concentrate on the important things, but all he could think about was your smile, which made his heart skip a beat. At practice, James was also distracted, as if hearing your sonorous but soft voice everywhere, the memory of which made his body goosebumps.

James Potter spent the whole day in a daze until a bell rang above him and the door closed behind him with a thud. The cafe was empty, the chairs were raised on the tables and the one who completely confused his thoughts stood with her back to him, quietly humming some remotely familiar song playing on the radio. You slowly swayed your hips, moving backwards, mopping the white tile floor until your back hit James's hard chest. You suddenly screamed loudly and turned around, covering your mouth with hand in shock. James ran a nervous hand through his hair and frowned slightly.

"Sorry, I thought you were still working, I came in... to buy something to drink," James quickly rattled on one exhale, meeting your gaze.

You blinked quickly a couple of times, trying to move away from the shock that you experienced from an unexpected meeting with a visitor. In him, you immediately recognized the guy James, whom you first dubbed the last jerk that came to ruin your first working morning, and then you noticed how cute and sweet he was when a blu sh appeared on his cheeks and immediately melted away.

"No, no, we are still working... there were just no visitors and I decided to start cleaning early… But you can order... it's okay," you assured him, giving James a soft smile before turning around and standing behind the counter, putting the mop aside.

James looked at the menu carefully, and then at you. There was silence in the coffee shop for a couple of seconds, and you felt your cheeks start to burn from the piercing gaze of his coffee eyes. You slowly lowered your gaze, trying to hide a silly smile.

"What do you recommend?" clearing his throat, James asked without taking his eyes off you. He wanted to stay in your company as long as possible and get to know you better. At least for a little bit. "What's your favorite drink?"

"Hmm... I'm not a big fan of coffee," you thought, looking over your shoulder at the menu. "That's why I would recommend herbal tea with raspberries and mint..." you nodded, concentrating on the guy standing in front of you again and smiling. "Well, it's also my first day and I'm not sure I can make you a good coffee... so tea would be the safest option," you joked, biting the inside of your cheek.

James laughed hoarsely, throwing his head back and you shyly lowered your head, hiding the blush that became even brighter on your cheeks. James was the epitome of what the perfect man looked like in your fantasies. Slightly curly hair, warm brown eyes that when he smiled seemed to be able to warm the whole world and round glasses that brightened his face and gave him even more charm. Such a handsome guy must have had an equally beautiful girlfriend. You thought, but quickly pushed these thoughts away from you. He was just a client, you shouldn't have worried about these issues.

"Then I'll have tea... yeah... I'll have tea with raspberries and mint," James said, calming down a little, adjusting the rim of his glasses on the bridge of his nose, which had slipped off.

You nodded and turned away, brewing James your favorite tea, making yourself one cup along the way. He was lost in thought again, watching you do your job carefully and with concentration. Your finger was slowly sprinkled with herbs, mixing them with mint leaves and dried raspberries, along the way he noticed how you brought the herbs to your nose, inhaling their fragrance and gently smiled to yourself. You looked more relaxed and peaceful than you did this morning when James scared you with his impetuous words.

"Herbal tea with raspberries and mint for James," you announced the order as if there was someone beside the two of you, and James smiled brightly at you.

His hand lingered on yours for a couple of seconds longer than necessary, and you felt your heart begin to beat faster in your chest. There was not enough air in your lungs, and it was only when James took the cup of tea from your hands that you were able to take a ragged breath that did not pass James by. The guy grinned, sipping a drink from his mug.

"Wow, this is really good! I like it," James said enthusiastically, looking right at you. His brown eyes seemed to look straight into your soul, and you swallowed nervously again, licking your lips, feeling how for a second his gaze dropped just below your eyes.

"Thank you..." James tilted his head slightly to the side, looking at you expectantly.

You said your full name softly, and James seemed to echo it, tasting it. You were quickly caught again, feeling your fluffy eyelashes tickle your cheeks. James shook and lowered his head, trying to hide his spreading grin. Apparently, he was not the only one in this cafe who was fascinated by his interlocutor.

"Well, thank you for the delicious tea. See you tomorrow, love," he winked at you before leaving the cafe.

The endearing name came out of James's mouth so easily that for a second you were taken aback, standing rooted to the spot behind the cash desk with your mouth open, like a fish jumping onto dry land. But at the last moment, a quick goodbye escaped your lips, more like the creak of a door, and the ringing of a bell announced James's departure.

Through the big window, you watched him walk slowly along the street lit by lanterns, smiling like a madman and slowly sipping his tea, and something jumped in your chest.

You put your hand to your chest, feeling your heart beating hard against your rib cage, and then wrapped both hands around your cheeks, which pleasantly cooled your heated skin. And the only thing you could think about, standing in an empty coffee shop, looking at the door through which James came out, was that the barista's job might not have been so bad. At least as long as James appears in front of you, it definitely won't be bad.

And in order to see him again tomorrow, maybe you'll switch shifts with Marlene.

But only 'maybe'.

thankx for reading <3

for the first time in month, I had so much fun writing these one shot. so I hope you enjoyed it too. you can always share your opinion in comments or my inbox :3

- your santi 🪐

#james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james potter fic #james potter x reader #james potter #james potter imagine #marauders fic #marauders x reader #james potter x shy!reader #james potter fluff #muggle au #– santi 🪐

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moonstruckme · 11 months

Note

hi ml, wondering if you’d be able to do poly!marauders x hyperactive!reader who rlly gets the zoomies sometimes (me honestly) and out of nowhere she’s just super energetic and is like “hey sorry i’m gonna run to the store quickly for some stuff” and comes back and she’s got things to bake/cook and they’re all in bewilderment like ??? what is happeneing rn

Thanks for requesting lovely!

poly!maraders x hyperactive!reader ♡ 603 words

“I’m bored,” you say abruptly, knee bouncing so fast it’s shaking the coffee table.

Sirius raises his eyebrows at the unfinished card game between you, him, and James. “Well, that’s a bit insulting.”

You shake your head rapidly. “Not you, sorry. I just…” You gnaw at your lip, and Sirius and James exchange a bemused look. Remus had cut you off from the coffee pot hours ago, but you look like you’re about to start vibrating. “I don’t know, I need something else to do.”

James looks at you consideringly. “Do you wanna start a movie?”

You shake your head again, and you’ve got a look on your face like you’re trying to see inside your own brain.

“We could put on some music,” Sirius suggests.

“No.” You frown. “I feel like I need to climb a tree, or learn how to do a back handspring, or something.” You look at him. “You know?”

Sirius can’t say he does.

“Maybe you just need to take a lap around the block,” Remus says idly, flipping the page in his novel.

You jump to your feet. “I’ve got it,” you announce, and head for the door.

“Wait,” James says quickly, “wait, sweetheart, Remus was just joking.”

Remus looks up from his book, vaguely alarmed. “Yeah, dove, don’t actually run around the block. It’s dark out.”

“I won’t.” You wave them off, grabbing your bag and rushing out the door. You stop a few steps from the threshold, look down at your feet, and come back, slipping on a pair of shoes. “Be back soon!” you call, and before anyone can protest further, you’ve shut the door behind you.

Sirius looks between his boyfriends. “What the fuck was that about?”

Remus shrugs, going back to his book. “Dunno. If she’s not back in twenty minutes, would one of you let me know? We should probably call the police.”

Thankfully for them (and the police), you are back within twenty minutes. You and three bags of groceries.

“Angel.” James stands as you speed into the kitchen, heaving the bags onto the counter. “What’s going on with you? What are you doing?”

“I’m baking cookies.”

“It’s nearly midnight,” Remus says, at the same time as Sirius asks, “What kind of cookies?”

James has perked up at the mention of desserts, too. “Not sure,” you answer with a shrug. “I couldn’t decide between chocolate chip, earl grey, and these peppermint-and-chocolate ones I saw online, so I got ingredients for each and I’m gonna try them all.”

“Dove,” Remus tries again, as James prances happily into the kitchen to help you set up, “it’s nearly midnight. How late are you planning to stay up to finish all that?”

“Also not sure.” You take out three big mixing bowls and begin measuring out flour for each of them. “The dough for the earl grey cookies needs to be refrigerated for a few hours, so I figure I can always freeze the rest if I don’t want to keep going after that.”

Sirius raises his eyebrows, watching as you and James flit about the kitchen like busy hummingbirds. “Should we try and stop them?” he asks Remus quietly.

“No.” Remus is frowning, and Sirius can tell that, behind a layer of weariness, his amber eyes are calculating. “She won’t be able to keep this level of energy up for long. She’ll conk out soon.”

Sirius grins, leaning up to press a kiss to the taller boy’s cheek. “Alright, sunshine,” he says, joining you and James in the kitchen. He hops up onto the counter. “Tell me what I can do to help.”

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dwindlinghaze · 10 months

Text

endless empathy

(remus lupin x reader)

summary: post full moon remus who just wants to be with you

contents: short fic, fluff fluff idk more fluff lol :) established relationship, descriptions of kissing

　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

"how're you holding up moony? just a few more steps to the hospital wing and you'll be better," sirius said. remus' arms were over james and sirius' shoulders, each supporting their injured friend.

finally arriving at the hospital wing, which for him took so long. remus sighed as he rested his body against the mattress. it wasn't the comfiest but better than nothing. his chest was aching painfully, with new fresh scars from that night. no matter how many times he had transformed, he never got used to the unbearable pain of it all.

madam pomfrey patched him up, quickly shooing away the james, sirius, and peter out of sight.

"where's my girl?" the first thing remus thought right after he woke up is where you were. james and sirius were visiting remus just like any other full moons, but you weren't there... yet.

"she'll be here soon moony," sirius said, trying to crack an assuring smile. just then you walked in with his breakfast in a paper bag, eyes searching for your boyfriend. "long live, she's here."

"morning everyone, morning love," you bowed down to kiss his temple gently, making sure not to make any direct contact against his healing skin. it really hurts to smile when there are scars all over his face, but he couldn't help it.

"we should leave them to be," james said before dragging sirius away out the wing.

"feeling better?" you asked as you opened his breakfast. you've learned to cut them in smaller pieces to avoid remus' scars from opening again due to facial movements.

remus hummed as he reached for your hand. "much better." you fed him his usual breakfast as you tell him about your day and the little information about what you dreamt last night.

"sorry," he whispered, shame washed over him as he took in how pathetic he must look right now. pale, lost of blood, dry, cold.

"don't be sorry for anything," you cupped his face gently. "i love taking care of you rem. makes me happy by just spending time with you."

remus melted at your words as he shuffled to get closer to you. burying his face on your arm, kissing the skin softly.

madame pomfrey walked in and smiled at the two of you as she made her way with some healing potions in the tray she held. in the lady's eyes, you both were like a couple straight out from a book. one always seeks out for the other.

"i suppose he can return back to his dormitory, seeing he heals faster each time," the old woman said, more to you than to remus. "some potions just in case the gashes opened, 'tis all he needs."

remus visibly blushed, seeing you nodding at madam pomfrey. "i can help with that," you offered and she let you, handing the bottle of yellow liquid. she opted for you to use the pipette, adding a few drops before smearing it lightly across the cuts on his back.

"practicing for the old days?" the older woman said in a teasing tone yet very flat. she usually was stern and strict but seeing remus being taken care of by you softened her.

remus cheeks were tinted pink, lucky he was facing the other way. you chuckled in response, shaking your head at her remark.

after madam pomfrey left, you helped remus to put his sweater on, whispering sweet encouragements. you sat down beside him and circled an arm around his torso. he leaned into your touch, cheeks pressing against your neck.

"wanna go back to my dorm," remus mumbled, lifting his head up slowly to catch your eyes.

"of course, just hold on to me," you started to stand up, opening your arms for him to hold onto.

the walk was slow with you trying to help him up. gosh the amount of stairs hogwarts has is unbelievable. remus was strong enough to climb all of them so now he's on his bed, body flat against the mattress.

"lay beside me princess, please?" he asked, looking up at you with the most adoring eyes. he really wanted you to hold him. after a rough night at the shrieking shack, all he needed is the comfort of his love.

"of course," you replied, sliding down beside him as you cover both of your bodies beneath his warm blanket. he threw his arm over your body, face pressing against your chest.

"want cuddles," he mumbled. you always love it when remus gets all mushy and sickly adorable. he was always like this after a full moon and you could never complain. you want nothing more than to hold him and protect him from the nasty world.

moving to a better position, remus looked up at you, smiling before he pressed his lips against yours. it was a soft and sweet kiss, nothing hungry or heated. he badly wanted to feel you.

when you smiled in between his lips, he couldn't help but smile too, pressing harder this time.

"d'you want a back massage?" you asked softly when he groaned in the middle of the kiss, trying to get up to kiss you more.

"yes but i also want to kiss you," he pouted, dipping down to connect your lips again.

before he could though, you held his jaw, noses were already touching. "pick one love, can't do that at the same time," you spoke, in which he returned by a whine and nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck. he stayed there for a while, seemingly thinking about the decision.

"what about kissing and back rubs?" he said, lifting his head up again to look at you. his eyes held such softness and warmth, contrast to what he was just hours ago.

"sure can," you giggled. it is so hard to resist him. moving your hand around his back in a soft circular motion, remus sighed softly against your face, nuzzling further to your skin.

he pressed his cheeks against yours, smiling in pure bliss. then he moved away to capture your lips in his afterwards, moulding together perfectly.

your lips are the softest, he loves kissing them so much. the position you both were in made it possible for him to feel your heart beating against his. he can feel your heartbeats thumping. it makes him so happy- just by feeling the beat of your heart.

the sweet kiss you shared was now turning more into a soft make out session. him nibbling at your bottom lips as you both pulled away slightly to breathe.

you two have a brief eye contact, smiles slowly creeping up your cheeks. he looked down at your pink plumped lips, glistening perfectly for him to dive down again to continue on what he has left.

that whole day, you spent your time with remus laying above you, body pressed against the other comfortably. you didn't know how long you both made out but your lips were now in the brightest shade of pink.

#remus lupin x reader #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin x reader fluff #remus lupin fic

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my-castles-crumbling · 3 months

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Dinner

Based on a request from @vaylina that I finally got to!

Swallowing nervously, and going through everything Sirius had taught him over and over in his brain, James approached Regulus from behind, tapping him on the shoulder.

At first, when the other man turned, he looked confused- his beautiful eyes were wide and a bit surprised, and his face was a bit welcoming. But as soon as he was James, his expression changed to one of annoyance and anger. Immediately, he threw a finger in the air, enough for even James to know what he was saying- 'fuck off.'

But, steeling himself, James pushed forward, moving his hands clumsily through the gestures he'd learned over the past few weeks, greeting Regulus slowly. 'Hi,' he signed, his eyes on the other man. 'I'm James.'

Eyes wide with shock now, Regulus took a moment to process this new development before moving his hands much more skillfully. 'I know, idiot. What are you doing, Potter?'

James signed, 'I want to talk. I'm learning.'

Regulus stared at him reproachfully, eyes full of distrust. 'Why?'

'I like you,' James moved his hands, heart beating quickly, studying every change in Regulus's face, hoping against hope that the other man wouldn't reject him.

But instead of seeing happiness or disgust on Regulus's features, all he saw was confusion. 'What?'

James thought back to what Sirius had taught him. 'I like you,' he tried again, less sure now.

Except he was wrong. 'James. You're saying I eat you,' Regulus signed, fingerspelling the word quickly, causing James to turn a bit red.

'Oh. I'll eat you, too," James signed with a suggestive grin, smiling triumphantly when he made Regulus let out a surprised chuckle.

'Let's start with dinner' Regulus sighed, but he was smiling as well.

Just a note that the grammar and syntax for BSL and ASL is extremely different than English, but I chose to write this with English grammar.

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loveyouprongs · 6 months

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hope we grow old, but we never grow up

james potter x fem!reader

upcoming content: fluff! mentions of reader being anxious in crowds, mentions of just having had sex but not smut, mentions of alcohol. lmk if you think i missed anything :)

authors note: i hope you like this! i’m still new to writing, so i tried my best! inspired by one of my favorite songs by one of my favorite artists: never grow up by niall horan!🎶 despite any photos used in the header, it’s important that people of all races can identify with my work so please let me know if any of the descriptive language i use is exclusionary, i’m trying my best!

word count: 2.8k

masterlist

“I hope we still dance like we're fallin' in love, Hope we still drink like we're back in the pub”

the noise inside the pub was so loud you could feel the floor shake beneath your feet, or maybe it was just your brain making it up. you were getting jostled and a man elbowed your shoulder, causing the cranberry juice in your cup to slosh over the edge. a sharp gasp escaped your lips that you were sure would get lost in the rowdy atmosphere but james quickly snapped his head to look back at you, eyes trailing down to the red liquid dripping down your hand.

“y’alright, sweetness?” big, brown eyes peering at you as the hustle and bustle of the crowd moved on around you both.

“i’m good,” you said back softly, squeezing his hand that had been tightly grasped in yours since the moment you both walked in. today was the final match of the rugby championship and everyone in town was together to watch in anticipation… and drink, no matter the outcome. james had sweetly invited you out with his friends a few nights ago and you of course said yes. the two of you had begun dating a few weeks ago, and you were eager to learn everything about him and spend as much time as possible with him, even if it meant trudging through sweaty, drunk bodies, resisting the urge to cover your ears.

“sirius got here early so he got a table for us already, we’re almost there,” james assured, squeezing your hand back. as you neared the large booth tucked away in the corner, the weight in your chest lifted at the sight of remus rolling his eyes at whatever sirius was saying, waving his hands expressively.

“they’re here! finally!” marlene squeaked and everyone’s eyes turned towards the two of you and they started making room for you both in the booth. you couldn’t stop the tingly feeling in your chest at how easily they accepted you in their tight-knit group.

“mate, where the fuck have you been?’ sirius exclaimed, slapping a hand on james back.

“if you couldn’t tell, he’s already had a bit to drink,” remus muttered in your ear as you leaned in for a half hug around him. when you first met, you were sure he didn’t like you despite james’ reassurances that he was just a quiet person naturally. you understood that, being quite shy yourself, but you still desperately wanted his friends to like you. so when you instinctually gave him a soft hug for the first time and he didn’t pull away, even initiating it the next time you saw him, you were sure you and remus were becoming good friends.

“oh, i’m sure,” you responded, eyes widening at the collection of empty pint glasses that littered the table.

“what’s the score?” james asked, cleaning his glasses against his sweater with one hand, squinting up at the screen, the other stayed wrapped around yours, even though you were both sitting comfortably.

“not good jamesie, why’d y’think i’ve been drinking so much already?” sirius said, taking another swig of his beer.

throughout the night james was intensely focused on the match, going between not even breathing as he stared at the screen to groaning or shouting with sirius whenever his team made a play. you were fine with the fact that he wasn’t paying much attention to you, knowing this game was so important to him, and you and marlene were catching up anyway.

“y’having a good time, honey bee?” james asked, looking down at you for the first time in a while, his large arm wrapping around your shoulders, warmth immediately overtaking you. you could tell he’s well past tipsy, eyes alight with bubbly frivolity.

“honey bee? that’s new”

“‘cus you’re so sweet,” his hand that wasn’t grabbing at your shoulder came up to stroke your cheek and you were sure he could feel it warming up under his touch. the subsequent smirk that crawled across his face affirmed your theory, all adoring if not a tad smug, but he was charming enough to get away with it.

“i am having a good time, yeah, i mean, i don’t really understand what’s going on but it’s cute seeing you so focused.”

james laughed and you felt his chest rumble against your cheek as he tugged you in closer, “mm, it’s probably good that you don’t anyway, we’re getting absolutely shitted on.”

“it’s only half time, it can still turn around!” sirius slurred emotionally with his head in his hands, a lot like the other patrons in the bar disappointed at the team's performance.

“keep telling yourself that, mate,” remus said, patting his back pitifully, still reading his book.

“you want another drink? i can go get you one,” james offered and you shook your head, preferring to stay relatively sober so james could have as much fun as he wanted. “you’ll let me know if you do though, right? anything you want, i’ll do it for you.”

for the umpteenth time tonight, and for the millionth time in your relationship so far, james made your heart stop as he looked down at you with his unwavering gaze. you knew he was only offering to navigate the crowded bar for you, knowing your aversion to crowds, but such a declaration paired with the tightness of his grip around your shoulders, how you could feel his heart beat against the soft of your arm if you focused enough. something about this moment, tucked away in a pub booth, felt like it was the beginning of forever.

“i know,” you breathed out softly and james lips quirked up in a small smile, as if instinctively, and with a single nod and press of his lips to your head before he turned back to the screen, you knew he felt the same way.

in a way that could only be described as a miracle, the team pulled through and as the reporters announced a home win, the crowd erupted in cheers. “praise be to god!” sirius cried, reaching for remus’ pint while remus tried to keep him away. he’d been cut off around thirty minutes ago when he attempted to throw marlene’s purse at the screen.

“sit down! you’re not even religious!” remus sighed, wrangling in his wild friend. you could only smile as remus tried to feign annoyance but couldn’t help but laugh when sirius started pressing congratulatory, sloppy kisses to his cheek.

“i can’t believe it!” james cried, wrapping his arms around your front, your back pressed to his chest as he towered over you. you were still sat in the booth but james had stood up five minutes before the match ended, pacing to get his nervous energy out.

you titled your head back to look up at him, genuine happiness radiating off his large form. “that was incredible!”

he looked down at you with a beaming grin, “it definitely was! did you see that last play? blimey, can’t believe we pulled it off!”

as he spoke you twisted on your butt to face him, and he caged you in between his spread thighs. “i know! i don’t know how they do it, i would get so tired- oh!”

you were no longer sitting, now fully upright with your feet dangling off the floor, arms tightly strewn around james’ neck as he lifted you in a hug. you could feel his hair tickle your cheek as he tucked his face into your neck. he spun you both around in staggering circles, having to stop when he felt the alcohol quickly begin to travel back up his stomach.

james couldn’t believe how perfect today was. his favorite team winning, surrounded by his friends, and at the center of it all was you. like a figurine from a snow globe come to life, so charming and sweet. so open to becoming friends with his friends, liking what he likes; he still doesn’t know how or why you agreed to a date with him, nonetheless put your trust in his rough hands, but he could only hope that soon he could carry your heart, and you his.

“this whole day is incredible,” he said, lips brushing against your ear as he set you down.

your guys’ bubble was popped when marlene shook your shoulders, not quite as gone as everyone else, but getting there as sangria glossed her lips “babes do you hear this?!” she let out loudly and you tuned back into reality, music now blasting through the speakers as the patrons danced and sung along happily.

“sorry to steal her from ya, but this is our song!” marlene slurred winking up at james who only shook his head and watched you get dragged to the middle of the makeshift dance floor and jump about with the other girls.

“to doing this all next year?” remus spoke, handing james a glass of water, with one for himself as well.

james chuckled and watched as sirius infiltrated your dance circle, horribly attempting to break dance, but you’d never guess based off of the encouraging woops! and wows! from you and the girls hyping him up.

james could do this again next year, and the year after that, he’d quite like it, he thinks.

“I think that we could be like that, every single Sunday in our Sunday best. Laughin' over nothin' with a full wine glass.”

“honey bee, i’m hopeless with this,” james grumbled, giving up on his tie and falling back against the bed. at your silence he rolled on his side to catch a glimpse of your face through the mirror. your lips twisted at the side, surely holding in a laugh you refused to grant him with, not wanting him to know he’s softening you up again.

“it might help if you button your shirt first,” you said, finally turning to face him. even with his face half squished against the mattress and hair sticking up in all directions he was still the most beautiful boy you’ve ever seen.

his eyes slowly grazed up your figure, body he was just ravaging now covered in soft, flowy blue fabric, and your hair was tied up neatly with a bow. James let out a low whistle, heat immediately rising to your cheeks, “well would y’look at you,” he mumbled as if he was speaking to himself, “s’ gorgeous.”

you took a minute to collect yourself, shaking your head at how he still made you this flustered this far into your relationship. “thank you, love. you could look beautiful too if you got dressed.” you now sat primly on the sheets beside him, stroking his cheek.

“too tired,” he said, voice low as he engulfed the hand of yours on his cheek in his and brought it to his lips, “you really wore me out, baby.”

“james!” you chastised, trying to pull your hand away fruitlessly. he smirked against it and pressed a final kiss to your palm.

“what? you did! absolutely mindblowing! that thing y’ did with your hips… oh baby!” he moaned and you slapped a hand against his chest, walking back over to the mirror.

“clearly i didn’t hold up my end of the bargain if you’re able to get dressed s’ fast, lemme make it up to you, honey.”

“no!” you squeaked, quickly gathering your make up and running to the bathroom, james’ laugh echoing behind you. any more talk like that and he actually would convince you to go back to bed with him for another round. but you promised you’d go to marlene’s birthday dinner and you were really looking forward to it. in the back of your mind, you knew it was a mistake to get tangled up in the sheets so close to when you had to leave, knowing james could be absolutely insatiable when he wanted to, but you couldn’t resist!

for the next few minutes, you both got ready in silence. you applying light mascara and blush, and james trying to manage his hair. “need a haircut soon,” he said breaking the silence as he reached over you in the bathroom.

“me too, i think. but i like your hair long.”

“i know you do,” james remarked back, a haughty smirk donning his features once again, falling into a pure smile as you playfully rolled your eyes. as he combed some product into his thick locks you took in his appearance, a plain white t-shirt that hugged his muscles and framed his arms in a way that made you question if he was really from this earth or a Greek god, and fitted slacks, you recognized as the one’s you bought him a few months earlier, after claiming he had no nice going out clothes aside from jeans and the one tuxedo he had for a friends wedding.

“you look really nice, james” you said and he cast his gaze down to you through the mirror.

“thank you, sweetness,” he said back and two sentences, as simple as that, caused the love in the room to blow up like a balloon. the sultry, teasing energy from before now a pure adoration that hung in the air.

“we’re a good looking couple, aren’t we,” james said as you both finished, now looking at the two of you in the mirror.

a startled laugh escaped you, “i suppose we are,”

“no wonder i always want us to be having sex, i mean who could blame me!” james exclaimed, walking to the door, keys jingling in his hand.

“please get it all out now before we get to marlene’s, this is supposed to be a classy party!”

“oh, alright! but i’ll remember this when you’re grabbing at me later,” he said, holding open the car door for you.

“we’ll see about that.”

the sun was beginning to set, casting marlene’s back garden in an orange glow. she set up tables and chairs, all holding delicious food and wine, and fairy lights were strung along the awning.

“marls this looks amazing! happy birthday!” you said, giving her a hug.

“thank you! i love your dress! potter… you cleaned up nicely,”

“it was hard to find a clean shirt, but this one passed the smell test, didn’t it, love?” he joked back, twin gags coming from you and marlene before the three of you erupted into laughter.

“i want you to come meet my best friend at work, she’s so nice!” marlene said and in a flash you both were gone, pastel skirts flowing in the wind.

“‘bout time you got here!” sirius called, hugging james, “was starting to thing you wouldn’t show,”

“sorry, got caught up at home…”

remus rolled his eyes, already knowing what was coming.

“…if you know what i mean,” james finished, wiggling his eyebrows, eating up sirius’ wolf whistles and high fives.

“you keep us oddly informed of your sex life, you know that mate?” remus asked, pushing off james’ hand that took purchase in his hair.

“what else are brothers for?”

“ugh!” remus groaned.

“are they bothering you, rem?” you asked, pulling up a chair at their table.

“aren’t they always?” james and sirius let out matching offended scoffs as you laughed.

“y’always take remus’ side, ‘s not fair!” james whined.

“i have to! it takes two of us to watch over the two of you!”

“exactly,” remus laughed, crossing his arms across his chest.

“well in that case, the two of you can stay here, while jamesie and i settle a bet,” sirius said, mischievously, lighting the adrenaline in your boyfriend’s eyes.

“do i want to know?” you asked james, who sent you a blinding smile.

“siri here thinks he’s faster than me. than me! can you believe him?” james said, stretching his calf. his thighs were hugged wonderfully in his trousers and you quickly darted a glance at marlene’s beautiful -yet muddy- garden.

“have to prove him wrong, don’t i?”

“yeah, you can’t be datin’ a loser, a slow one at that!” sirius retaliated and you knew there’s no way you could talk him out of it then.

“just make sure to be careful of your nice clothes, love,” you pleaded, “you look so handsome, the last thing you need is to be covered in grass stains.”

“promise, i’ll try my best honey bee,” james said back, cupping your cheeks so your lips squished together and pressing a kiss atop them.

“c’mon let’s get this race started! or are you scared, pretty boy?” sirius egged and james ran up besides him. as the boys took off you knew it was only a matter of time before it resulted in a friendly yet frantic wrestling match, as most of their competitions did. so you captured the image of your tall, broad-shouldered boyfriend, dressed like he just came out of a catalog, running under the setting sun in your head now to look back on fondly. his childish giggles carried throughout the air and you had a pathetic smile on your face despite yourself.

“you’ll just have to hose him off before you get in the car,” remus said, content with sitting with you, watching your loved one's mess about, truly happy.

“it’s my own fault for thinking he could keep a white shirt clean.”

#james potter #james potter fluff #james potter x reader #james potter x fem!reader #james potter fic #james potter imagine #mauraders fandom #mauraders #mauraders fluff #james potter mauraders #mauraders fic #maurauders era #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fandom #james potter blurb #james potter drabble

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bobluvbot · 6 months

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late night cravings

pairing: sirius black x afab!reader summary: you sneak off the night for a cheeky midnight snack, hoping sirius won’t notice (spoiler alert: he does, and he’s sulky about it) wc: 4k cw: pregnancy & baby talk, descriptions of food and eating, brief allusions to sex (not directly stated), no physical traits of reader specified but sirius can hold things out of reader’s reach a/n: so i had a lengthy angst fic for sirius’s debut on my blog and im halfway done on it but i cant seem to finish it bc it sends me to a depressing spiral each time <33333 so pls enjoy a very self-indulgent domestic excessively fluffy blurb with my beloved <33333 p.s this is not proofread so plz ignore mistakes ty <3

opening the tomato salsa jar turned out to be the hardest part.

back in bed, you thought the trickiest part of your late night escapade from sirius black was his long limbs wound up tight with yours, even in low light of the small nightlight in the corner, you could still make out the intricate script and designs following the curves and dips of his strong arms, holding you close to his chest.

you had it committed to memory by now, having explored sirius’s body well enough to memorize the way his skin feels against yours, with heartbeats and breaths falling in sync without much effort.

judging by the way his breathing gets heavy after every exhale and the little snores that escape in between, you knew he was beyond knackered. it was day five of sirius’s new job as an deputy director at the auror office. the day he learned about the promotion was pure unadulterated happiness. after letting you know through an express owl, you mustered up enough vigor available to your seven months pregnant self to get out of the house and go to the local shops to get party supplies and food to celebrate sirius’s achievement.

Coming in third out of the list of things he genuinely loved in this life, after you and his luscious locks of course, was his job as an auror. young sirius had never thought in his wildest dreams that he’d work at the ministry, much less actually enjoy it. can’t really blame sixteen year old sirius, starting an underground rock band with the marauders seemed like the perfect thing to do after gruelling hours of studying at hogwarts.

defense against the dark arts came to him naturally, with some counterspells like second nature to him as being exposed with use of dark magic young gave him no choice but to grow up quickly and defend himself from the excruciating pain or the mind control that was from his own family’s doing. Winning the first wizarding war alongside his friends and found family has solidified sirius’s calling in eradicating the use of dark magic and making sure the next generation can have a safe and normal life without the looming threat of a megalomaniac sorting people with their blood status and taking over the wizarding world.

that night, sirius walked into a dark and eerily quiet home that had his senses on overdrive. but when the lights turned on and he saw familiar faces of his loved ones all beaming with pride, and there you were in the center, looking ethereal and round and all his, with his favorite red velvet cake on hand and a ridiculously big balloon that says “congratulations” tied to the candle, he could have melted in a syrupy mess of gooey happiness right then and there if he hadn’t caught himself together last minute.

Sirius had thought– that after you agreeing to go on one date with him to hogsmeade, winning the quidditch cup and seeing the proud look on minerva’s face, going home for christmas break and euphemia welcoming him with a kiss on the cheek and a warm hug, remus teaching at the very same classroom you all were in years back, james and lily’s first kiss at the altar, holding little baby harry in his arms, you walking down the aisle with a bouquet of peonies in the most beautiful dress, and when you held his hand that one night and told him that you were expecting—- that he knew of love. but you do something extraordinary that has him scrambling to add to the endless list of why you’re the love of his life. he was so focused on you that he wasn’t prepared to catch pure muscle of james’s body as he flung himself to tackle his best friend in a hug. luckily, remus with a party hat was aptly standing between a toppling sirius and the living room wall, and he singlehandedly saved the two from creating a huge hole in the drywall.

this was the life, sirius had thought after many hours of partying celebrating and eating, when he laid beside you in bed, limbs tangled, sated and dizzy and warm as you both came down from your highs. and he gets to spend it with you.

but as fun and exciting sirius’s new job is, it entailed an increased amount of responsibility as he was assisting the head auror. his least favorite part of the job was the boatloads of paperwork he has to deal with. An express owl almost dropped a howler letter into the soup you were making for dinner earlier that day and you opened it up panicking thinking it was an emergency. But no, it was just sirius whining that his hand hurt and is about to fall off and that he needs you to kiss it better.

You did eventually, and one thing led to another and here you were, tucked in your husband’s warm embrace. you could stay here forever, only separating to drink water and bathroom trips, but the gnawing urge to eat something savory, sweet, tangy, and crunchy has possessed your entire being, the only way to quell it was to get up and go to the kitchen. the baby doesn’t seem to have a semblance of time yet, a fact you both envied and despised, because the clock on your nightstand said it was 3:48am in bold red numbers. A few months ago, you’d never be caught dead awake at this time, taking your precious sleep time seriously. The man himself would poke fun at you and say you’d gladly sleep through an earthquake or a housefire just as long as you get your seven to eight hours of sleep per day, and despite of your assumed role of contradicting and arguing with spontaneous and stubborn sirius, you had to agree.

But this was not about you anymore, or at least not quite yet for a good seventeen years, so you untangle yourself from sirius and your perfectly warm and cool side of the bed and waddle down the carpeted stairs, careful not to set foot on the creaky step that might risk waking sirius up. You need your secrets too, and you’re not in the mood to share food.

Grateful for the heavens that you and sirius stocked up on groceries two days ago, you had a wide selection of random items to munch on. A few days ago, you were introduced to the idea of a fluffernutter sandwich while scrolling through the short videos on your feed. Peanut butter and marshmallow fluff as spreads on their own was something you didn’t mind eating, but both together in a sandwich? You were enthralled, and the only way to quell the curiosity was to make it. So you did.

You shovel and slather more than enough spread on each slice of bread, though you might have used the same spoon on both jars.. but who’s to tell you off otherwise, your snoozing husband upstairs? pfft.

Smiling happily as if committing a particularly naughty crime, you place the spoon in your mouth, licking off the gooey mixture as you place the sandwich on a piece of paper towel (yes, you take the no dishwashing tonight seriously) on the table. humming, you mull over what to prepare next.

The baby needs something savory and tangy, but you’re not particularly keen on going through all the effort of heating up the soup from dinner, not to mention the amount of cutlery and dishes you’ll use for that, so you zero in on the tostada shells you chose rather than tortilla chips because its much more crispier.

Opening the fridge, you see the laughing cow on a round packaging and decide its the one, so you grab two cheese wedges from it.

Sirius had argued that the next aisle had actual, real blocks of cheese with a variety on display and that there was no point in getting artificially flavored ones. But you’ve gotten really good at giving him the stank face, which inadvertently ends 75 percent of nonsense bickering before it even starts; and since you’ve started showing more and more, sirius has admittedly gone softer on you, not that he was ever more but a pushover your entire relationship. Merely widening of eyes and a jut of your lower lip, even adding a slight tremble or two during times where you did actually fuck up, sirius can’t hold his stance longer than a minute before sighing and taking you in his arms. he might call you out for being a brat at times, but there’s no denying he loves it. And so the artificial wheel of cheese wedges got purchased and bagged home, and you’re meticulously spreading it over the golden shells, leaving little to no gaps of it bare.

Laying it on another paper towel, your heart gets giddy on your chest knowing you’re in for a treat tonight. But not quite time to start munching, the baby reminds you that you still need something tangy to complete the meal. So comes your big predicament, should you get dill pickles or tomato salsa?

It took you ten seconds too long of weighing down the pros-and-cons of choosing one and feeling like you made the wrong choice if you end up not liking it. It doesn’t help that the pregnancy hormones make you more anxious and tend to put you always on the verge of tears. So when the not-so-groundbreaking idea of just eating them both hits you, you feel the weight slide off your shoulders as you sigh. Because again, who’s gonna tell you that eating pickles this late at night can give you bad acid reflux, your snoozing husband? Pfft.

Snacking on some, you do manage to pick out the juiciest looking pickle chips and lay them atop of your tostadas. You and the little one are beyond excited to dive in. It’s looking like a mini upside-down pizza with the cheese spread first then the pickle as toppings. Only thing left now was the the tomato salsa slathered on top to seal the deal.

Opening tight lids wasn’t an issue for you before, in fact, you took pride when friends hand you a jar or bottle to open because you could do it in a breeze. Chances were, the lid wasn’t even screwed on that tight, you were just built different, you’d say with a shrug once you give the items back. So when the tomato jar doesn’t budge after two attempts, you get puzzled.

Maybe your hands were slippery? You wipe them down with a tea towel and try again. No.

You weren’t holding it tight enough? Fingers held taut against the lid, you try three times. Still no.

Determined, you try different positions before letting the jar go, shooting it glares as if it’d get intimidated and just open up for you. You were also getting lightheaded, and passing out on the kitchen floor due to excessive stimulation of your vagal reflex because you were too stubborn to use magic or wake your husband up to open it for you doesn’t seem like the best way to spend the early Tuesday morning hours.

Magic was even out of the option (well, in your brain it was), because your wand’s tucked beside sirius’s on your nightstand, and frankly, you don’t have the patience to drag yourself upstairs just to flick a utility spell to open the wretched thing. So you do the next best option: lose hope.

The disappointment was mutual between you and your baby. And the acid reflux did start to kick in, making your stomach grumble in both hunger and pain. This was all going so well until it isn’t, tears began to make its way up to your eyes.

“See, this is what you get for being greedy and eating all snacks by yourself,” sirius huffs behind you, deep voice still raspy with sleep. You didn’t even hear him getting out of bed and coming down the stairs, that’s how preoccupied you were with opening the jar.

He grabs the container away from you to open it, but not without throwing a scowl at your direction, handsome face contorted with furrowed eyebrows and downturned mouth, enough to express that he felt betrayed by this whole ordeal. If you were in a better mood, you’d poke his sides and tackle him playfully, teasing him for being sulky. But for now, you need the jar opened so you could eat in peace. You’ll deal with the sharing food issue later.

“t wasn’t supposed to take long,” you mumble, caught off guard and refusing to make eye contact, pretending the fridge magnets beside sirius’s head is ten times more interesting than his face. You don’t miss his raised eyebrow and snort at your response.

The second attempt comes and he opens it with a satisfying pop. your mouth falls agape, eyeing the *now accessible* tomato salsa dip in disbelief. What the hell?

And you couldn’t even take the smug grin spreading across sirius’s face by the millisecond. Refuse to. You try to snatch the open container away from him but he holds it higher and out of reach, making a show of puffing his chest, flexing his biceps, even giving it a kiss. This is all James’s doing, you need to have a talk with Lily soon about keeping these two separated.

“Sirius!” you try to plead your way out. the trademark innocent, pouty expression settles on your face like a second mask, hoping he’d go down this easy.

It doesn’t work. He just chuckles, mocking your pleas and face while his free hand sneaks up and pinches your unsuspecting cheek to tease you further.

You yelp in mock outrage and swat his hand away, trying your best to keep your displeasure firm on your face, but you feel the giggles coming up. “This is why I sneak out alone to eat, you’re such a bully,” you huff, but take a seat in front of your makeshift spread.

Sirius places the jar near you, but not without poking your exposed sides, armed with the knowledge that the easiest way to get you laughing (and eventually conceding in an argument) is knowing where your tickle zones are. “Oh yeah,” he drawls, plopping himself beside you. “That’s also why you’re the only one waking up with an upset stomach, stinking up our bathroom so early in the morning.”

Now this one got you appalled, embarrassed, disturbed, basically hit with all the feelings. You’ve been living together long before you got married, and he never brought up this issue until today. “That’s it. I’m leaving.” He makes a move to snatch the sandwich away but the embarrassment on your cheeks made you more agile, swatting his hand away and shielding the sandwich with your hands. “After I finish my meal,” you continue, shooting him a glare.

But see, one of the things that drove you nuts even way back at Hogwarts, was how Sirius Black mostly managed to outsmart you or be one step ahead of you in everything. After you turned him down without much thought whatsoever despite his grand declaration of interest, Sirius took it upon himself to show you (1) that you made a mistake for rejecting him, (2) that his ego won’t let you embarrass him like that again, (3) and that you won’t get rid of him that easily. Once he set his eyes on you, you were face to face with him in everything: grades, OWLs/NEWTs scores, Quidditch plays and bets, wins at the duelling club, even with the fucking gobstones tournament. He never let you catch a break.

Things were surely different now, since you vowed to be with him in sickness and health and untill death parts you both– hell, you’re carrying his child. So you figured maybe, maybe, he’ll let you catch a break this time. Let you eat in peace as you mull over his bathroom comment and how you’re going to get him back.

But again, no. Unlike you, Sirius remembered to grab his wand from the nightstand. Not even batting an eye, he says nonchalantly, “Accio sandwich.” And the fluffernutter you protected with all your physical might managed to escape your watch, and land gracefully on his waiting palm.

What irritated you more from this whole ordeal? The prodigal auror that climbed his way up the ranks and became the youngest deputy director, fully capable of complex spells and wielding different kinds of magic, felt the need to do a verbal Accio spell just to make a point to you.

Out of words, you just stare at him blankly. Too stunned to even cry in frustration because you knew you made a conscious, willing choice to be with this man.

Maybe your best guilt-tripping expression comes best when you’re not trying. Color drains from his face when you remained silent and he scrambles to take a bite off the sandwich before handing it back to you, or rather placing it on your limp hand as you refuse to acknowledge it, still too hurt to budge. “‘m sorry, baby. Just wanted to eat with you since we didn’t get to earlier.”

He did arrive later than usual, deciding to finish the stack of case files and paperwork so he won’t have to sift through them again the next day. There were plans to wait for him before eating, but when the jitteriness and slightly nausea started to kick in, you had no choice in the matter. Sirius had been sulky and clingy the moment he got home, and as compromise, you stayed to watch him eat; listening and reacting animatedly as he ranted about his stressful day.

So you cut him off some slack, also exhausted from all the emotional stimulation sirius brought since he woke up. As a silent peace offering (also because you’re not ready to say sorry to his face), you slide the tostadas within his reach and finally take your bite of the goddamn sandwich. It was good, tasted as expected, sweet peanut butter. You’d probably have it again as a drunk at 3am meal.

Sirius also went and got snacks of his own: microwaved popcorn, pickles, toasted bread slathered with butter, and grapes. Together, you munched on the little spread of random food you could find in your kitchen at 4am in comfortable silence, which is surprising after the earlier bickering. No matter how cheesy it sounded in your head, sirius was the only person that can drive you to the brink of insanity and right back. You were in for a hell of a ride for the foreseeable future; and while there’s a lot of uncertainty right now and changes to be made when the little one gets here, you’re beyond happy that you get to do all this with him.

Sleep was beginning to creep up on you. Of course he notices this right when you do, so a warm arm wrapped across your back urges you to settle on his lap, bodies melding into the familiar crevices like puzzle pieces, though you both had to adjust certain angles to accommodate your growing belly. You sit like this for a while; your head tucked securely in the crook of his neck, steady breaths lulling you to sleep, while sirius’s hands instinctively finds its way under your sleep shirt and on the natural curve of your belly, lithe fingers stroking and drawing soothing circles anywhere he could reach.

you wish you could stay like this forever– cozy and soft and safe– but alas, you were carrying sirius black’s offspring. the baby decides to reward you with a round of kicks, probably giddy after feeling their father’s touch. Sirius chuckles and coos at your bump, while a muffled groan leaves your lips from the sudden onslaught of movement, but still refusing to move from this comfortable position.

Smooth cold lips touch the side of your forehead and you relish in the feeling. “Does it ever hurt, love? All that kicking and wiggling?”

“Not really,” a content sigh leaves your lips. “Feels strange at times, seeing your belly move on its own.”

To prove your point, two tiny bulges make a split second appearance just above where Sirius’s hand lay. His thumb soothes the area lovingly.

“Definitely getting stronger though; Lily told me during the later months, harry for some reason loved to kick downwards, making bathroom trips more frequent than it already is. Not excited for that.”

He presses kisses on your forehead, temple, hairline, anywhere he could reach without moving too much. “Things that you do and endure for this ‘lil troublemaker,” sirius murmurs. He doesn’t need to say it out loud, you could feel his body reverberating with awe and fondness. You try to bask in it for as long as you could, but a passing thought makes its presence known to you again.

“Do i really make the bathroom stink?” it comes out whinier than you intended it to be but you just had to know for peace of mind.

Sirius’s whole frame vibrates as he tries to stifle his laughter, taking you with him. He’s laughing at your expense but you feel your own giggles brewing in your belly. You try to hold it in for longer, preserving some self respect. “A little bit,” he says solemnly. You groan, earlier mortified feeling returning in full swing. It triggers another round of chuckles.

“But dove, it’s nothing that my deep love and adoration for my lovely strong hot and sexy wife can’t handle.” He says assuredly, and you curse yourself for being so down bad for this man as blood rushes to your cheeks from his words. Good thing it’s dim and your face is still tucked in the crook of his neck.

You do pinch his arm in response, and both your laughters compliment the comfortable silence.

“Although,” he says after a while. “The betrayal of you eating without me still hurts.”

“Siri.. i’m sorry,” you mumble. “‘y looked so tired, Didn’t wanna wake you up.”

He tuts and doesn’t say much after that. In sirius dictionary, this means he just wants some affection from you— for you to dote on him and coax out his forgiveness, even if you both know he’s not really mad; judging by his arms still wrapped securely around your frame and steady breaths that tickle and fan on your bare skin.

So you mimic his actions from earlier, planting tiny kisses on his neck, collarbones, jawline, anywhere your lips could reach. Kissing his cheek seem to do the trick, his fake scowl quickly coming undone as a bashful smile breaks through the frown, and his tiny dimple you love so much making an appearance. The muggle maternity books did say dimples are genetic, so an image of a little Sirius running around and smiling up at you with those dimpled cheeks is a warming thought.

“I am charming all the lids to be stuck at night as soon as i wake up tomorrow for work.” You poke a sensitive spot on his side, making him jolt, but you couldn’t resist laughter as it bubbles out of the surface. “You’re insufferable, I can’t believe I married a psychopath.”

“And you let him knock you up too. I’d say it takes one to know one, hm?”

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ecstarry · 1 month

Text

'the one were Regulus reunites with his first kiss' let it be known that this is unrealistically romantic but I love it for them. They deserve it.

The weather was perfect, he tried to remember if the last time he drove around those same streets it was this pleasant. His last visit had been over a decade ago. His parents had said the “demographic had changed,” and it was no longer an area they wanted to be around. His family simply relocated to their other properties for the summer, forgetting all about that home. Regulus, meanwhile, tried to forget all about one boy.

Regulus came back alone. Sirius was tied up with selling another property after their parents passed away. Regulus didn’t explain his particular interest in this location, and Sirius didn’t ask.

He was there to meet with a realtor and to say goodbye to one of his sweetest memories from his youth. When Regulus arrived at the café, he received a message asking to push back the meeting until tomorrow, and he quickly agreed. He knew exactly where he wanted to spend the rest of the day.

The walk from his car to the beach was long, but he was in no rush. Regulus carefully observed the sea. It was winter and nearly sunset; the water wasn’t as bright as the last time he had been there, but it was enough to bring the first rush of memories flooding back.

He was fifteen again, and his brother was introducing him to a handsome boy he had just met. It seemed like the sun had risen that day specifically to make the boy’s eyes shine. He remembered his name and the way their hands felt when they first touched. James. He always regretted not asking for a last name. Regulus closed his eyes and tried to recall the scent. He laughed at himself, knowing it was probably just a mix of sweat, hormones, and sand, but he found it endearing even to this day.

Beautiful hues of red and orange illuminated the sky. Regulus strolled to the pier and watched as the sky painted the same picture it had all those years ago. He took out his wallet and looked at the tiny picture he had kept. It was blurry, probably taken around the same time of day, and showed the silhouette of a boy smiling at him. The sun was behind him, so only the outline of James waving could be seen, but Regulus had never forgotten the exact curve of James’ lips as he took the picture. That summer had been a dream; he had met an angel and tasted heaven with his own lips.

The temperature began to drop, and Regulus took in his last moments at the very spot where he had felt love for the first time. He took out his camera, the same one he had used fifteen years ago, and snapped one last photo, thinking of James again.

He chose a hotel close to the café where he would meet the realtor the next day. It was a small, beautifully preserved place. As he entered, there was only one man ahead of him at the front desk. Tired, Regulus resumed scrolling on his phone when he heard it.

"James is fine."

Wood. The boy he had fallen in love with all those summers ago smelled like sweat, hormones, sand, and wood. Sound and smell held powerful memories, and Regulus learned that firsthand as he tilted his head in what felt like slow motion to look at the back of the boy who was now a man.

"James." The word escaped his lips before he could stop it, just as he had no control over his suddenly racing heartbeat.

The other man turned and dropped his bags. "It's you," he breathed.

"Do you—"

"Regulus," James said, almost as a prayer. "It's you."

James approached him tentatively and smiled. God, that smile—Regulus would’ve recognized it even if another decade had passed. Without a second thought, he took out the photograph he had just looked at and, without worrying about the potential embarrassment, showed it to James.

“It’s you.” James carefully took the picture in his hands, his eyes darting between it and Regulus. After a moment, he handed it back and took a step closer. His hand hovered near Regulus' face, hesitating just before making contact. “May I?”

Regulus nodded.

Just as gently as when they were fifteen, James tucked a single curl behind Regulus' ear.

“It’s been—” Regulus began.

“Fifteen years,” James finished. Their eyes tried to convey everything their lips still couldn’t: I’ve missed you. I never forgot about you. Let me get to know you again.

“Hi,” Regulus said with a quiet chuckle, and James’ eyes softened.

“Can I buy you dinner?”

“I would like nothing more.”

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jamespottersdaisy · 1 year

Text

It's nice to have a friend.

Remus Lupin x fem!reader

"No one loves a monster like me."

"I do."

warnings- cursing, the prank (with major changes), angst (?), my writing

13k

author's note:- i wrote this listening to taylor and lana. english is not my first language, so beware <3

"What time do you call this?"

You bit down your lips at Remus's flat tone. He looked up from his book with an expression you couldn't figure to be irritated or nonchalant.

"I'm so sorry, Remus. I got carried away with astrology," you said as you attempted to sit beside him. He quickly put his books on your seat with a loud thud. Fortunately for him, the library was empty.

"Then go and play with your stars."

"What?" you asked, a bit confused. "Aren't we supposed to study together?"

"We were. But you're late," he said, shaking his head.

"I'm only twenty minutes late," you furrowed your brows at his uncharacteristic rudeness.

He was staring at you as you glared back.

"You damaged your brain while studying Transfiguration without me, didn't you?"

You arched a brow uncomfortably, getting ready to talk again, but Remus's face softened and changed into amusement. The next thing you heard was his light laughter.

"Hilarious, prick."

"I'm a funny bloke," he chuckled as he lifted the books to grant you a seat, which you took.

"You're not really, James and Sirius are way funnier."

"Weren't you the one throwing a tantrum over their prank yesterday? You certainly weren't laughing."

"They died my hair to green! And don't act like you had no part in it."

"I only told them green is your favourite colour. Was I wrong?"

You blankly ogled his smirk.

"Green suits you."

"You know what suits you, Remus? Purple. Should I do something about it?"

To your irritation, his smirk widened. You turned your hand into a fist. "Which eye is your favourite?"

"I only have two."

"That's not an answer."

"Is there supposed to be an answer? The two are the same."

"Well then," you threw your fist at his eye, Remus raising his arm to protect himself.

"Did Sirius bribe you to hit me?"

"No, but he did offer me some galleons in exchange for your chocolate this morning."

"That was you?!"

This time it's your turn to smirk.

"Time is of the essence, Remus, we have to study." you opened a book before you, waving off Remus as he grumbled something under his breath.

You started to study together, helping each other occasionally.

It was a habit now; you two would study together every week for at least four evenings.

Remus was frustrated today; you could tell from his bouncing leg and twitching lips. But you didn't point it out; you knew he felt uncomfortable when someone coddled him. It was one of the perks of being best friends for five years.

From the first year of Hogwarts to the sixth year, you learned almost everything about Remus by heart. How he scratched the hairs on the back of his neck when deep in thought, or how he never looked up from his book while reading, even if his friends were trying to converse with him.

In return, he knew exactly what to tell you when you were overwhelmed by the studies or how to make you laugh when you were feeling like crying.

You two had always been there for each other, listening, understanding, and supporting one another through everything. You had stayed in the hospital wing all night for Remus when he broke his arm in the third year, and he had been there for you when you were burning with a fever two years ago.

There were too many incidents like these which you and Remus shared that proved the special bond between you. James, Sirius and Peter were also your friends, but with Remus, it was different; unique.

He had made you feel appreciated and loved, never let you down or never let anyone look down on you. Sometimes James and Sirius would mock you two for this affection, but that would always earn them a smack on the head from Remus.

You knew everything about him, and he knew everything about you.

Well, almost everything.

He didn't know that your affection for him was something more; It had been for quite some time now.

At first, you thought it was an innocent crush because of teenage hormones or something, and it would fade away with time.

But it didn't. You grew out of 'I fancy Remus Lupin' to 'I love Remus Lupin'. Of course, you never confided in anyone about your burning infatuation, keeping it secret, burying it deep inside your heart.

The same secret that was fighting to break free from your heart's walls every time Remus smiled at you.

The same secret that was clawing from its grave to get up and fly, bleeding your heart every time Remus embraced you and called you a friend.

The same secret that prickled your eyes with tears every time you remembered that you weren't the only one keeping secrets.

He was keeping something from you, too.

You had always felt it in his eyes, glancing away when you would ask about a scar on his arm or a cut on his thumb.

The first time you fought on it was when you saw the huge scar on his face in the second year. You had worried so much that you pushed Remus's patience, and he had yelled at you. For twelve years old, it was a big hit in their friendship. You hadn't talked to each other for two weeks. In the end, Remus approached you to apologize and explained how the Marauders' prank had backfired, resulting in his scar. You had cried that day because of how much you had missed your friend. Remus hugged you tight, but you could swear you heard a sniff or two from him as well.

Remus would always say the scars on his body were because of a prank, and you would pretend to believe it.

Until this year.

You may be a Gryffindor, but you weren't stupid. You had noticed how he would disappear every full moon and "get sick." You didn't push him before because you thought maybe he needed time, but his distrust was turning the understanding in you into resentment.

It hadn't been to hard make speculations about the situation, but you wanted him to confide in you.

"Are you asleep with your eyes open?" Remus startled you, pulling your focus back to the present.

"Are you calling me a dolphin?"

"You two have a lot in common," he patted your head with his quill.

"Freakingly cute?"

"Freakingly evil."

You elbowed him but regretted it the moment he grimaced with pain.

"What's wrong?" you asked, albeit you immediately guessed another injury under his brown jumper.

He forced a smile. "You just proved my point."

"I didn't even hit you that hard!"

"You tell yourself that," Remus stood up, nodding simultaneously. "That's enough for today."

"Already? You sure you okay?" you worried a bit, standing up. "It's only been forty minutes."

"For you, lazy lady. I've been here for an hour, remember?"

"Go on, rub it in, or I won't hear the end of it until tomorrow."

You two were walking to the exit now with relaxed paces.

"Yeah, about that. I won't be able to study with you tomorrow."

You inhale a deep breath and huff it out.

Here goes nothing.

"Again?"

"Yes," his voice is rusty now.

"Why?"

"Marauders thing."

Same excuse as the last month.

You didn't say anything, giving him one more chance again.

"That's bollocks, Remus."

Remus simply curved a side of his lips to a tiny smile, almost unnoticeable to anyone. Well, anyone but you.

However, you were too irritated to mellow at his smile.

Only for one day, you didn't see him, and he had a new scar, and what a coincidence that the same day was a full moon.

"You really shouldn't curse."

"What truly happened to your arm?"

"Sirius accidentally cut it," he said for the third time that day.

"Stop lying."

Maybe you were wrong to push him like this, but you didn't care at that moment.

"I'm not lying, Y/N," he said before grabbing both his and your books and pressing them between his left arm and torso. "Let's go, we have class in ten."

When you didn't budge, his smile grew, and he stretched his free hand towards you.

"Come on, move your arse. We'll be late."

"You shouldn't curse," you said firmly, trying to look as angry as you could. You were on your limit and had no intention of backing off this time. "And I'm not coming with you."

"Why is that?" he pulled his outstretched hand back to the pocket of his trousers, wearing a soft expression, which his mocking tone contrasted with.

"You know why."

"I'm afraid I don't know why you are not coming to class."

"I will go to class, just not with you," you scowled at his nonchalance.

He pressed his lips into a thin line.

"And why is that?"

"Because I've decided that I'm not talking to you."

"That's not fair."

"Yes, it is," you snapped, standing before him. You waited a few minutes for something, eyes narrowed. When Remus chuckled at your annoyed expression, you walked past him, hitting him with your shoulder.

Striding to the common room's exit, you ignored Remus's call. Only after leaving his sight, you fathomed that you had left your book with him but shrugged it off. You two always sat next to each other, and Remus was too nice of a friend not to bring it back.

"Hey, angry lady." his playfully soft tone danced in your ear, making your heart flutter in your ribcage.

"Go away."

"We're headed to the same class."

"Go away from me, then."

"I'm carrying your book."

"No one asked you to," you still hadn't spared him a glance but could feel the soft smile on his lips.

"No one needed to. I'm a gentleman."

"My arse."

"What about it?"

Your head snapped in his direction. Remus was smirking at you, acting like you weren't almost about to fight ten minutes ago.

You walked into the classroom from the door Remus held open for you straight to your seat.

"Give me my book back."

"You forgot the magic word, lady," he sat next to you. "You know, the one starting with 'P'."

"Petrificius Totalus?"

"That would also work, but I had something nicer in mind. Try again?"

"Periculum."

"What would you need the flames for?"

"To burn you."

"You're so violent this morning. Hadn't had your morning coffee?"

"Just give the bloody book back."

"Now that I think about it, you've been violent for the last three days."

You groaned when the professor started the lesson.

"Don't be bitter, Y/N," he pleaded, watching you snatch your book back. He hated when you were angry at him. "I already told you the truth."

"That's rubbish, and you know that," you whispered so the professor wouldn't hear you. "We're not twelve anymore."

"You were a lot nicer when you were twelve, though."

"And a lot stupider."

"Aye. You'll hear no argument from me."

You knew he was merely attempting to lighten the mood, but he didn't realise it only made you more furious.

"Why are you keeping a secret from me?" you finally blurted out the question gnawing on your insides.

Remus's smile ebbed. He exhaled sharply before turning away from you.

"I am not keeping anything from you."

"Then you must think I am gullible because that's the only explanation for you repeating the same 'prank injuries' lie over and over again."

"That's not a lie."

"Is there a problem?"

You clenched your jaw when you heard the professor's rough voice.

"No, Professor," Remus shook his head, ending the chatter.

You didn't talk for the rest of the lesson. However, to your frustration, you couldn't help but sneak glances in his direction only to find him doing the same.

The moment the class was dismissed, you immediately got up and left the room. The last half an hour in the boring potion class made you question some things. You were at odds with yourself.

And now, in the middle of the hallway, with your books to your chest, your mind was hosting a party for questions.

Was it really about you? Maybe no.

Did Remus deserve some secrecy? Maybe yes.

Did your infatuation with your best friend get in the way of your judgement? Breaking your heart not because he had a secret he didn't want to share but because he didn't love you back? No, of course not (It did).

But you deserved his trust. At least, that was how you were feeling based on the years of friendship.

Were you wrong? Probably.

"Y/N!"

You took a deep breath and blew it out as you turned to face Remus, who quickened his pace to catch up to you. He's smiling. Again.

"What?"

"You still pissed at me?"

"Yes? No? I don't know, Remus," you shrugged and carried on walking to the Great Hall. "I don't understand why you won't share it with me. Don't you trust me?"

"I do," he drawled, and you waited for him to continue. He hesitated at first but gave up after your determination not to make a sound.

"Listen, it's not something about you. I just don't like sharing it."

"Does James know? Sirius? Peter?" you arched a brow, desperately hoping for him to say no. You watched him he open his mouth and close it without a reply.

Well, that was it.

He didn't want to tell you, and you were supposed to be okay with it.

You nodded, hurt at something you didn't want to voice.

Remus stopped you from your arm, turning you so that you would face him. His hands made their way to your sulked shoulders and caressed them back to your hands to hold them tight, sending shivers through your body.

"When the time is right, I will tell you," he said. You looked up into his brown eyes, forcing yourself not to peek at his lips. You had always loved his eyes, and his lips.

"I promise. Just trust me."

You lowered your head, closing your eyes to the pleading in his words.

"I just don't understand why you don't trust me."

Remus stepped forward, letting your head lay on his chest.

"I told you, dove. This is not about you. Truly."

You knew it too.

You knew the reason you were so angry was not Remus but your love for him.

You knew you were not resenting Remus but your own inability to suppress your feelings.

So you nodded, hugging him back.

"What do you smell?" you asked Remus, trying not to sound too eager or excited. You were hoping he couldn't hear your racing heart and couldn't see your trembling hands.

Remus inclined his head to the potion, taking in the smell the Amortentia was radiating.

One, two, tree...

He frowned, looking lost. He clenched his jaw, blinking fast. Something must be wrong.

Six, seven, eight...

He cleared his throat, locking his eyes with yours.

Twelve, thirteen, fourteen...

Remus straightened his back, curling the side of his lips upwards awkwardly.

"What do you smell?"

You gulp, lips parting and then closing and then parting again. You weren't sure it was the right thing to tell him what you smelled from the love potion.

Parchment, coffee, melting chocolate.

Everything that reminded you of him.

"I asked you first."

You sounded taut, internally having a fight between your heart and your brain over the control of your body, mind, and soul.

You didn't know what you wanted to hear from him exactly, but what you did know was that you were praying for it to be something, anything that would remind him of you.

"It's- it's nice," he simply said.

"Mine, too."

"What is it?" he asked, his voice so low that if you weren't so close to him, you wouldn't hear him from all the chatters in the classroom.

You longed to tell him.

Tell him and get it over with. Put down the weighing affection in your shoulders, your lungs and your heart, even if it meant having it broken.

You looked up at him, biting your lower lip so hard it almost bled.

Remus waited and waited and waited for you.

"It's uhm, it's parchment... and uh,-"

"Mr Lupin, are you two done with your potions?

You quickly put a distance between you and Remus. Professor Slughorn stood by the pot, smelling the potion.

"Ah, you are. Well done, you two."

You refused to turn back to Remus, your eyes examining every student in the classroom as Remus cleaned the desk.

James Potter was grinning at Lily Evans, who, in turn, had an unreadable expression on her face. You hoped Lily had smelled James; it would make your friend foolishly happy.

It was a bit chaotic in the room; happy, angry, sad and confused faces were scattered around. A student had even managed to blow up his potion somehow.

You saw Sirius and wondered what he had smelled, but soon your thoughts took a turn when you noticed Sirius was not alone. He was muttering something to Severus Snape with a devilish grin on his face.

"You guys have another prank coming?" you asked Remus, your eyes not leaving Sirius.

You didn't see Remus flinch and almost drop the knife.

"No? Why?"

"Oh, nothing. Then Sirius must be messing with Snape for his own amusement."

Remus hummed softly.

"I love James and Sirius, but was this really necessary?"

It was cold, and you were freezing, not because you had clothed lightly but because it was seven in the morning and in the middle of winter. Remus, seated next to you, was in no better condition. All because your friends insisted you watch them fly around on a broom.

"Well, he had said we were a great support."

"Do I look like any kind of support at this moment?" your teeth were starting to chatter. You closed your eyes at Remus's chuckle, hoping, wishing and praying that you would never forget its sweet melody.

"You look anything but."

You laughed at his words, totally oblivious, his gaze lingering on your smile.

"When is even this game?"

"In two weeks, that's the only thing Pads and Prongs talk about. Where's your head at?"

"I usually tune them out. They're disturbingly loud."

James screamed loudly at Sirius; you threw an 'I told you so' glance at Remus, who rolled his eyes in return. You liked when he did that.

"Try living in the same dorm room with them."

"Must not be fun since you're carrying the scars of the battle in your body."

"And in my soul," he nodded swiftly several of times. You adored the way his brown locks messed into each other, still looking fluffy. "Are you cold?"

"No, I'm sweating," you snarked, peeking at Remus. Maybe you were wrong because he definitely appeared more decent than you were. He beamed at you, sneaking in closer, his leg brushing yours.

Without further ado, he pulled his arm over your shoulder, tugging you to his chest. Your breath hitched as his scent filled your mind.

You hated how your heart reacted every time you were this close to him; a hand away to hold his hand, a breath away to kiss his lips-

"Better now?"

You pushed the image deep into your mind, heat blossoming in your chest, colouring your cheeks.

"Cheers."

The next you-don't-know-how-many minutes later, the practice was over, and the players were now descending to the ground. Remus hadn't let go of you yet, not that you wanted him to.

You watched as James and Sirius joked around, Peter joining them later on.

"Hey, lovebirds! Come down!" James yelled, his hands around his mouth.

You raised your head to see Remus frowning at them before smiling at you, which you returned shortly as you stepped out of his warm embrace.

"Who's hungry?" James asked as you two also joined them and answered before anyone else could. "I am. Let's eat."

"Evans still won't tell me what she smelled in Amortentia."

"Drop it, mate. If she wanted to tell, she would've," Sirius slapped James's back before stepping into the Great Hall before everyone.

"If you push her, she might get irritated, you know," you reasoned with James, albeit you knew it was in vain.

"With me? Impossible, I'm lovely."

"Not to her, apparently."

"Not everyone has a Moony around to cuddle, Y/N."

Peter snorted and dodged the hit from Remus's hand.

"What? James, that's not even relevant!" you hid the crimson of your checks with feigned annoyance, refusing to glance at Remus.

"It doesn't have to be relevant," he shrugged, grinning ear to ear. You shook your head, grabbed a toast and didn't see Remus arch a brow at James.

"Where's Sirius?" Peter asked, making all of you turn around.

"He was there a minute ago, was he not?" you questioned, aimed mainly at James. If there was only one person you could ask about Sirius, and he would have an answer, he was James.

Obviously, not this time because James simply shrugged.

You were jealous. You had never been jealous over Remus until now.

You knew Lily Evans was his good friend, you liked her too, and you knew Remus would never even think about her in that way.

But still, you couldn't help but feel like you were on the edge of a cliff, waiting for someone to push you every time Lily would put her hand on Remus's hand, grazing the tiny cut lightly with her thumb. Your heart was a target to all sorts of knives when you heard Remus chuckle at Lily's words.

You couldn't help but wonder if she knew Remus's secret.

"Jealousy is not a good look on you, Y/N," Sirius cut your thoughts short.

"I don't know what you're talking about," you dismissed him with a shake of your head, pulling your gaze from Remus to the potion top. "Did you add the Powdered Root of Asphodel?"

Remus had always told you that you were the girl closest to him, and it would always stay like this. But you couldn't get rid of the doubts in your mind you were so certain that were emerging because of your feelings.

"Yes, stir twice clockwise," Sirius started working on Sopophorous bean juice. "I'm talking about Moony."

"What about him?" you bit down your lip and hoped your voice didn't shake when Remus's nickname startled your train of thought. How you loved that nickname...

"Others may be oblivious but don't be ridiculous, I see how you stare at him."

You didn't know how to reply to that claim, so you kept silent but turned your eyes to the long-haired boy. He smiled at you as if an encouragement, which almost crumbled your defences. You were on the verge of giving out.

Would it be bad if there was at last a person to share your feelings with?

"So, is it a monthly 'I fancy him' situation or..?"

"Something more," you finished for him, earning a croon. Here, you had said it with no guarantee that he would keep your secret but with the hope that he would help you carry the burden.

"Am I that transparent?"

"Only when you're jealous, love."

You nodded, smiling a little.

Sirius watched the way you were picking the skin around your nails.

"Hey, stop worrying. I'll tell no one."

Relief had hugged you at that moment, thankful that Sirius took your feelings lightly and didn't make a big deal out of it. Also, happy that you weren't alone anymore in this secret; you had someone capable of understanding.

"Sirius?"

"Mhm?"

"Do you think he'll ever...love me back?"

He sighed, drying his hands. You felt his hands on yours, returning the gesture.

"You know Moony, he doesn't talk about feelings," you laughed bitterly, placing your head on his shoulder. "But he is a plonker if he never returns your feelings, and I'll make sure he gets a new scar if he ever hurts them."

"Thank you, Pads," you melt into his hug as you feel his arms around your waist.

"You smell of strawberries," he took a strand of your hair into his hand, sniffing it. "What shampoo are you using?"

"Stop smelling me like a dog!" you pushed him away, giggling when he gasped in fake hurt. "Focus, we still have to finish that potion."

Sirius carried on with his Sopophorous bean, and you looked around for a sloth brain.

"Did you forget the sloth brain?"

"I thought you were going to get it," Sirius shrugged, looking up. "Moony and Evans have one more. Go and grab from them."

You glanced at the pair, noticing that Remus was already staring at you. He didn't budge when you smiled at him and changed his focus back to Lily.

Red hair, green eyes, dainty freckles and graceful stature. Why did she have to be this beautiful?

You sauntered to their seat, passing near a bunch of students that were requiring the Professor's attention. Remus refused to look up to you when Lily offered you a kind smile.

"Hey, Remus, do you mind sharing an ingredient with me and Sirius?"

"You don't have it?" his tone was not kind, and his eyes were cold.

"I thought he was supposed to take it, but it turns out he thought I would take it," you mumbled real quick, still not fathoming the reason behind his coldness. "So here we are."

"You guys were pretty out of it. How do you even manage to get the job done?"

"We are doing fine," you frown. What was wrong with him?

"Yeah, I saw."

"Are you going to let us borrow the ingredient, or should I ask James and Pete?"

His gaze finally changed into something you couldn't quite name. He turned to Lily, who was trying her best not to pry.

"We won't need the spare," she consented in an instant. Remus dashed to the other side of the desk, clutching the jar and dashing back to you.

"Thank you," you mumbled as you clasped it in your hand. He merely nodded one time before carrying on with whatever he was doing.

You could swear you heard Lily whisper to him, 'What the bloody hell is wrong with you?' before parting, but you ignored it.

You couldn't find Sirius when you were back, so you finished the last steps of the potion on your own. He didn't pop up when the Professor checked the work or when he dismissed the class.

"Why are you pissed at me?"

"Moony is pissed at you?" James hopped in as you made your seat next to Remus, who was busy with his meal.

"Yes–"

"I'm not."

You stared at him in disbelief and bemusement.

"You certainly are. Now tell me why."

When Remus looked at you, a smile inched his lips up though his eyes were still grumpy.

"Where's Sirius?" he asked.

"I-I don't know," your head sought him out, giving out in confusion. "How is he any relevant?"

You ignored James muttering, 'You really do like that word, huh?' as your eyes desperately tried to understand why Remus was being weird. But instead of an appropriate reason, all you got was a shrug.

You shook your head in dissatisfaction and stretched your arm for the pumpkin juice. Seeing your attempts, Remus's hand had already grabbed it and now was pouring the juice for you.

"Thank you," you whispered before clearing your throat. "So, we'll study together in the library again, right? Now that you're not 'angry'?"

Remus shook his head when you drew quotation marks with your fingers in the air.

"Today, yes. Not tomorrow, though."

You quelled the rising anger and heartbreak in your heart. In a trice, you twisted in your seat, facing James.

"What are your plans for tomorrow?"

He was taken aback by your sudden query. By the state of his full mouth and the bread crumbs around his lips, you figured out that he wasn't paying the slightest attention to you and Remus.

"Quidditch practice before breakfast?"

"In the evening, I mean."

"We're supposed to–"

"I wasn't talking to you, Remus."

Remus pursed his lips, cursing himself for not talking to James that morning. James's face crinkled in bafflement.

"I am supposed to finish my star chart with Sirius."

You nodded and glowered back at your best friend. James made a face at Remus behind your back as if asking what was going on.

"You don't take Astrology, Remus."

"I'll study with Lily tomorrow," he said, and you froze.

You were supposed to study together. You and Remus. Together. Like the way it had always been.

He wasn't supposed to study with the prettiest girl in the house. The graceful girl with a delicate smile and silky fire-kissed hair.

You didn't know when or how the familiar burn in your chest surged up, but you recognised what it was. You welcomed the acute sharpness of its thorns and the way it cut through your heart.

"Oi! Why didn't you tell me that? I could've finished the chart earlier and joined you!"

You tuned out James's protest. You wished you could tune out Remus mumbling to him, 'We decided in the potions.' too. But if there was one thing you could never turn a deaf ear to, it was Remus's voice; soft yet stern, melancholic yet hopeful. You wanted to tattoo the tune into your brain the way it was engraved into your heart.

You heard Remus call your name. You hated the way you loved your name from his lips. He had always chanted your name so gently, like an incantation, caressing your soul's most hidden-away parts.

"Yes?"

"I couldn't say no to Lily," he said apologetically.

"Yes, of course," you rose from your seat, offering Remus a smile you hoped covered the hurt behind your eyes. "I understand."

"Where you going?" he attempted to grab you by your wrist, but you were agile. You snatched your wrist away unobtrusively.

"I'm going to look for Sirius."

"Hiya, love," Sirius greeted you at the curtail step of the Grand Staircase. You had looked for him in the castle, but you stumbled on him when you finally gave up and decided to head to the Gryffindor Common Room.

"Where were you? I couldn't find you close to the end of the potions," you asked him, feeling a bit better now that you're out of Remus's company.

He shrugged, denying you the answer.

"You, too, Pads?" you stopped your steps, making Sirius do the same. He looked confused.

"I, too, what?"

"Somehow, I never get an answer to any of my questions these days, and it's bloody frustrating," you blurted out the grudge that had made home in you within a breath.

"Someone's getting ready to throw a strop," his mocking tone brought you to your senses. You pouted, sighing away the anger and resentment building up in your core.

"Don't sulk, love," he said as he dropped a hand on your shoulder, which impeded your movement on the stairs. "If it is any consolation, I have a problem with Snape."

"What problem?"

"You remember our last prank on him, right?" he smiled sheepishly. He continued when you nodded. "Right, so he may or may not have been trying to get back at me for it."

"So you two have been fighting like two little third-years for the last week?"

"Uh-huh," you rolled your eyes when he showed you his ridiculously white teeth. "I'm setting the ground for something big, but can't tell you, so don't ask."

"Fine."

"Your turn."

"It's silly," you cringed at the thought. Everything always made sense in your head until it was time to actually voice them.

"Good. Then we'll have a laugh. Come on, now," Sirius squeezed your arm as reassurance.

"Remus is a liar. Sometimes..." you purposely left out the once-in-a-month fact, "He stands me up, saying it's a Marauders thing-"

You held your hand up to interrupt Sirius, who was about to back up his friend.

"Don't. It is a lie. I know something is going on, and I have speculations, I'm not stupid, Sirius–"

"Never said you were."

"And it's okay, you know? We talked about it, and he told me he needed time, and I didn't argue. But now he tells me he isn't gonna study with me because he promised Lily, and I know it's an excuse because he couldn't use the 'Marauders thing' lie this time–"

"Don't forget to breathe."

"It's just...she's pretty and smart and–"

"In love with Prongs."

"You don't know that."

"No, but she will be, and you don't even need to worry about Evans. She's just a good friend of Moony."

You exhale heavily, begging for your endeavours to suppress the ache in your throat to work.

Yes, she was a good friend of Remus. But you're supposed to be his best friend.

Howbeit, more importantly, what was muddling you was the thought that Lily knew Remus's secret.

"I know, Pads. I just can't help it."

Sirius said the password to your common room and gave you the way first.

"You should talk to him, you know," he said as you threw yourself onto a sofa.

"And tell him that I'm ridiculously jealous because of his friendship with Evans, yeah?"

You smiled at Sirius's laugh. "I pity you, love."

You pitied yourself, too.

You grimaced when you felt the metallic taste of blood. Pulling your teeth from your lips, you pushed them together so the blood on them would dry.

You've been pacing around your dorm room, contemplating whether to get down to the library.

Part of you yearned for Remus's presence, while the other part wanted to avoid him forever, not ready to face and voice your thoughts to him. You knew he never left any quarrel unsolved, never letting you stay upset.

Ultimately, your love for him overwhelmed your resentment, and before you knew it, you grabbed your book and ambled down the stairs.

Your knuckles were white from clutching the book hard when you entered the empty library. The only thing you could think about was if Remus was going to be there.

And he was.

He raised his head from his book the moment you crossed his sight, brown eyes full of different emotions that you couldn't sort.

You chose to ignore how his leg was bouncing and how his hair was way messier than usual.

He softly smiled at you when you sat next to him. You smiled back.

You hoped maybe he would act like everything was alright and you wouldn't have to think about your feelings.

But you inhaled sharply when he didn't.

"We're fighting a lot these days," he said, looking at your fingers rather than your eyes. "I hate it when we fight."

"We didn't fight."

"It may not be a fight, but," he took your hands into his, "I know you're hurt."

When you kept silent, he took this as his cue to go on.

"I'm sorry, dove. I should've known it would hurt your feelings to stand up our evening studies."

"You know well that it is not the matter," you said, pulling your hands back. "Stop acting like you don't."

"I'm going to need you to be more specific."

Dozens of questions raced through your mind, but you only managed to ask the one tearing you apart with jealousy. You pushed to voice that screamed at you, saying 'you're being too blunt' back in its place.

"Does Lily know your secret?"

Remus sighed. He parted his lips and then pushed them back together. You fathomed that he was getting irritated from the twitch of his hand.

"I thought we agreed that you wouldn't bring this up again–"

"Does she?"

"She does."

"You told her."

"She figured it out herself," he arched his brow at you eloquently. You despised the meaning behind that expression. It mocked you, claiming that you were not as bright as another.

"Of course, she did," You turned your side to him and opened the cover of your book. Little did he know you had figured everything, too. Except, you waited for his confiding.

"Alright, that's it," Remus shut the cover back to regain your attention. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"What?"

"Y/N, you've been picking fights for the last bloody month. And I try, I really, really try to be patient but I don't understand what your problem is."

Your face wrinkled in confusion.

"Remus, what are you talking about? We were fine until this morning."

Remus held back for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Maybe. But we're having the exact bloody conversation every once a month, and it's getting on my nerves."

This was the last straw for you. Getting on his nerves?

You had been patient with him since the day you became friends.

You had been understanding towards him every time he pushed you away when he was upset and pulled you back for support.

You had been gentle with him every time he snapped at you before full moons and every time he broke your heart after full moons.

And you had been loving him for the last five years, first as your friend, then as a boy, despite his flaws, blemishes and imperfections.

And now he couldn't even handle your resentment?

Anger climbed its way to your chest, burning down every wall you've ever built to keep your heart's secrets hidden away.

Words were scattered across your mind, ready for you to use them as your weapon against the pain havocing in your soul.

You couldn't keep anything in anymore.

"You know what's getting on my nerves, Remus? You being a liar–"

"I am a liar?"

"Yes. Yes, you fucking are. You have been lying to me for the last five years, and I've been bloody patient.

You think you're being patient? Well, try being best friends with yourself. Someone who lies to you, keeps secrets from you, but tells you you're his best friend, and then fucking repeats everything again."

"I asked you to give me time!"

"And I did! I've been understanding towards you and acted dumb every time you gave me nonsense excuses like you did today."

Remus shook his head.

"You're being selfish."

"I am being selfish?" your eyes widened in disbelief. He truly had the gall to call you selfish after five years of his lies, excuses, and your espousing only for his sake.

"It's not always about you, you know. I just wanted to spend some time with Lily tomorrow, it's not an excuse."

You sniggered, awed by the way he could lie so easily.

"How come even Evans knows you better than me?!"

Remus clenched his jaw and rose up to his feet. You knew he was trying his best to keep himself collected, not to take out the anger on you, but you had had enough. You looked up to the veins popping up on his neck from your seat when he raised his voice.

"She figured everything out herself! It's not my fault that you can't do that!"

"So, now I have to try to solve you out by myself? That's not how friendships work, Remus! You're supposed to trust me-"

"No! I don't have to do anything! I've had fucking enough. I don't owe anyone anything, including you. Remus this, Remus that. Everyone has something they want from Remus. Everyone rubs their so-called favours and sacrifices into my face, always demanding something in return-"

"I've never even once harped on anything I did for you! I only wanted you to open up to me-"

"And the only thing I asked from you was patience! Fucking patience!" he dashed at you, grabbing you by the sides. "But here you are, bringing up the same bloody thing every month like a broken record! So yes, you are the most selfish girl I've ever met!"

His words cut through your heart like a sword, the same sword you had placed in his hand.

You looked at his dilated pupils and how they almost swallowed the gentleness of the brown you always loved.

You blinked the tears away that were threatening to invade your vision and swallowed the lump in your throat down.

Patience, he had said. Time, he had said. You were selfish, he had said.

An unfamiliar surge of acrimony washed you down, anger flaming in your chest. Its white flames swallowed your love for the boy whole, echoing his words from nothingness.

You pushed him away as hard as you could. He tottered a few steps back, eyes softening at your raged visage. In a blink, you were up from your seat and closed the distance between you two.

"You want patience? I have been patient when you let everyone in but me. I've been patient when you pushed me away in the second year after learning about your father. When you snapped at me for worrying about you. When you yelled at me because I wanted to touch the scar on your face."

Remus parted his lips, but you held your hand to stop him from talking. With every sentence, your tone was soaring, the tears were prickling your eyes, and you had let go.

"Don't interrupt me! I'm not done. I gave you time when you got 'sick' every month and didn't let me see you or when you cried in my lap but refused to talk to me later. I gave you time when you didn't speak to me for days because you were angry and when you lied to me every month because you didn't trust me enough!

You want time and patience?!

I have given you my time and patience for the last five years and have been loving you for the past three, Remus! So don't you ever dare to call me selfish!"

You snapped your mouth shut, letting the wave of fury and relief wash over you. Remus's eyes changed into something new, something you had never learned about him.

Only then did a stronger feeling hit you: dread.

You had confessed your love for him.

His eyes were heavy with emotion, the crease between the brows still reminding you of his anger, while the benign brown lit up the hope inside your soul.

"You what?" a whisper left his mouth, so low that you wouldn't be able to hear it if it wasn't dead silence in the library.

You didn't repeat yourself. You didn't even reply to him. You simply turned away and dashed out of the library.

xxxxx

When you woke up the next morning, all you could think about was that it was a full moon today.

You didn't think it would be a good idea to see Remus today, but you were worried about him. You wished to know how he was, where he was, and how he would endure this night. Would he have new scars the following day? Or a headache? Did he love you back?

So many questions and not enough answers.

James and Sirius were in the Quidditch practice, probably Remus and Peter as an audience. You had decided not to join them this time, trying to drown the chaos in your mind with homework instead. Or maybe you were too embarrassed to acknowledge Remus.

Anyhow, one can only tolerate writing an essay to one point.

You slapped your book shut, groaning to yourself when you relived your last memory with Remus. Yesterday was the reason why you hated being angry; you would either cry or lose control of your mouth. And since you had bone both of them in one evening, you were planning on rotting in your room. However, your short span of attention was not helping. With every sentence you managed to put together, Remus's brown eyes would pop up in your mind.

You glanced at the weather; grey clouds and chilly wind. Who would even want to be outside in this weather?

James (and maybe you).

You shook your head and decided that maybe rotting yourself until everyone would forget about your existence was not a good plan, as it was getting boring. Checking the time, you smiled because the Quidditch practice should be finished by now. Thus, you got up and left your dorm room. If only you could make it out of the common room without being seen by Remus.

Sauntering down the stairs, you slowed your steps. Before revealing yourself, you checked the common room and saw James and Peter laughing. No Remus or Sirius. You wondered if Remus told them about your love confession. You hoped not.

Stopping into the room, you made your way to them, putting on a genuine smile. You tried to suppress the anxiety rising in your throat and reminded yourself that these boys were your friends.

"Look who's here," James narrowed his eyes at you. "The traitor."

"I missed only one practice, James."

"He and Sirius are way more dramatic today. James almost asked Evans to marry him this morning."

"Seems like a normal morning, Pete," you said, even though you couldn't help but chuckle. "Where's Sirius, though?"

"He went to see his brother. Said he'll be back in ten minutes or something."

You hummed at James, pushing your lips together.

"And Remus?"

"With Evans, I wager."

The familiar burn in your chest resurfaced.

"I'll go find Sirius. See you guys later."

"You have a death wish, I see?"

You jumped at Sirius's voice. As opposed to what you said to James and Peter, you didn't go looking for Sirius. Instead, you were strolling around the castle yard. You liked how the frigid air sent shivers down your spine, it was refreshing. And you, without a doubt, needed refreshment.

"How'd you know?"

"You're walking around in nothing but your sweater?"

You smiled and shrugged, waiting for him to catch up to you. When he did, he removed his black leather and placed it on your shoulders. You caught the burn on his hand.

"What happened to your hand?"

Sirius glanced at his hand shortly and yanked it back into the pocket of his trousers.

"Ah. Nothing. Snape and I had a little duel just now."

"Sirius, this is getting out of hand. You need to stop."

"Yeah, don't worry. It's going to end tonight."

Your heart dropped.

"What do you mean?"

He burst into laughter, worrying you more.

"I'm going to scare the hell out of that prick, he'll never dare touch me again."

You attempted a smile, though you weren't sure it came out smooth.

"What do you mean?"

Sirius turned to you, patting your arm with his fist. "Don't worry about it. Tell me what made you take a walk in such weather."

Now you were both worried and uncomfortable. Embarrassment was burning your ears up, making you wish that the ground would split in two and swallow you whole. However, you decided to bury the worries and awkwardness. You deserved someone listening to you, after all, so you shared everything with him.

After a few gasps and woahs, you quietened while Sirius was contemplating what to say and how to say it.

"You haven't seen him since?"

You shook your head no.

"Well, he was grumpy this morning, but I don't think it's related to you."

Yet, you were certain that it was related to you.

He was grumpy because he was angry at you. He was grumpy because he didn't return your feelings, and you made him uncomfortable by confessing them. He was grumpy because you just shattered your friendship. Or maybe he was grumpy because it was a full moon.

"I think he hates me now."

Sirius snorted at your declaration. "You're one hell of an overthinker, aren't you?"

When you didn't reply, he pushed you with his side softly, "Hey, come on, it's Moony we're talking about. He can never hate you."

"You can't possibly know that."

"Yes, I can. Remember in the third grade how he literally hated all of us for burning his paper?"

"I mean, he wasn't exactly wrong. We did destroy two weeks' work."

"Exactly. He rained hell upon us for a month. Well, most of us. He didn't touch you, and whenever we would ask him why, he would hit us before saying, 'It would hurt her feelings'."

You smiled at the thought of thirteen years old Remus coddling you.

"I didn't know that."

"You don't know why James changed his wand last year in the middle of the semester, either."

"I thought he broke it."

"Nah, Moony broke it."

Your eyebrows shot up in bewilderment, amusing Sirius. He nodded before resuming to talk.

"James had a brilliant idea to cast a spell on you that would twist your tongue every time you talked. Remus wanted to waver him from it, but he was stubborn, that bastard. So before he could cast the spell, Remus broke his wand in our dorm and made it look like an accident to James."

Your smile grew wider, your eyes tearing up from intense emotions. Remus always knew about your anxiety, and he had always cared enough to help you through it. Whenever you would fidget with your fingers because you were about to give a big speech, he would put his hand on yours to calm them down. Whenever you would sweat because the professor was criticising you in front of the whole class, he would touch his knee to yours to let you know he was there. Whenever someone would make fun of you, he would be the first one to stand up for you.

"I didn't know he had it in him."

"Oh, he has a lot more in him when you are the matter," Sirius side-hugged you, letting you lean in. "You can ask him if you want."

You frowned, about to ask him what he meant but stopped in your tracks when your eyes sorted Remus from the other side of the yard. He was with Lily. Before you could ask Sirius to return to the castle, he yelled from the top of his lungs to make himself heard.

"Oi! Moony!"

"What are you doing?!" you whisper-shouted at Sirius, who was dragging you to Remus's side.

"You can't avoid him forever."

As you got closer and closer to his side, your heart picked up the pace. You didn't feel ready to talk to him today. You were sure you wouldn't be ready tomorrow either.

Lily waved at you two when you made it to their side. You noticed the bags under Remus's eyes and his bouncing leg. You refused to lock your gaze, focusing on Lily's glorious smile. Still, you could feel his burning gaze piercing your heart.

You had tuned out their talking, alerting your mind only to Remus's presence. You didn't hear Lily's giggle or Sirius's mocking tone; you didn't even care what they were talking about.

You only cared that Remus was bouncing his leg, snapping his fingers and rubbing his temple.

You longed to put your hand on his leg to calm it down, hold his hand so that he would stop hurting them, and kiss his temple so maybe it would tender the ache.

Your heart was burning up in your chest, clenching in agony. The agony of being so close and yet so far away from him.

Every tune around you was muffled, slave to even a whisper from Remus, but he wasn't making a single sound.

You had lost count of how many heartbeats were beating in your chest, wasting time by beating away from Remus's heart.

Suddenly, they stopped.

"I have to go," said Remus.

His hoarse tone shattered everything into nothing.

He got up from Lily's side and walked back into the castle. You didn't follow him.

You missed his voice.

The weather was dark and still cold. You clung to Sirius's jacket more tightly. He hadn't asked for it back and said he would take it from you tomorrow.

You should return to the common room; it was neither safe nor clever to wander around at night. And you did. You turned around and started striding to the castle, only to flinch when you saw a figure exiting it.

It was hard for you to distinguish the person, so you followed him. You waited for the light of the full moon to reveal the silhouette's identity to you. You bit down your lip when you saw Severus Snape sauntering towards the Whomping Willow.

He must've lost his mind.

Your heart fastened with Severus's every step, dread of what was about to come sending tremors down your body. Your fingers itched in anticipation.

You hid behind a bush and watched him with terror. It was dark at night. It was a full moon. You were near the Whomping Willow.

Why did you even follow Snape?

When he finally crossed the safe proximity, the tree started moving. Your hand covered your mouth, your eyes unable to blink.

You waited for the tree to frantically shake and sway its branches. You waited for it to injure Severus or maybe even kill him.

But it didn't.

The moment it started to move an inch, it stopped. You thought maybe Snape had cast a spell; you could only see his back.

He slowly approached the tree, disappearing into a hole under it.

You rose to your feet and took a few steps towards the tree. You felt uncomfortably vulnerable at that moment, standing out in the open where you could get attacked by every side and wouldn't even be able to prevent it.

What if the tree starts moving when you're near?

Where did Snape go?

Should you even be here?

If there was only one question you knew the answer to, it was the last one.

You wanted to return to the castle and forget about all this in the morning. You truly did. However, you figured that there was no turning back when you heard a howl and a scream coming from the hole.

You jumped back with fear, oblivious to the yelp that left you.

Your first instinct was to run. Run away as fast as you could, without looking back, but something deep in your conscience didn't let you flee.

What if Snape was alone out there, and he needed help?

What if he was injured?

You cursed under your breath and took one more step towards the tree.

Your heart was pounding in your ear, competing with the sound of the howl down on the ground. You convinced yourself that it was the fear that made the howling sound closer than before.

One, two, three.

You exhaled sharply and started running to the hole.

You prayed that the tree wouldn't move.

Your legs made a stop before you could fathom what was happening.

More than one figure emerged from the ground, but your eyes only saw the big, ugly beast. Moonlight was glistening through its thick grey fur, displaying a horrendous sight. The tawny glow in its eyes was impossible to miss, as well as its tall and scrawny bone structure. The snarls from the beast were threatening to change into something more dangerous.

Snape was screaming. You could swear you heard James, your name or maybe your own scream too.

However, your eyes never left the beast.

You had seen it in the pictures. You knew what it was.

A werewolf.

Remus.

And it was planning to attack Severus.

Your Remus.

You took out your wand, not even once looking away from the beast. Your mind was chasing every charm you've ever chanted, looking for the best one for the situation.

The beast pounced on Snape with a growl.

Snape slumped into the ground.

The beast towered over him, ready to attack.

You aimed your wand at it, screaming the first thing that came to mind.

"Petrificus Totalus!"

You had diverted the beast's attention, presenting an opportunity for James to save Snape.

"No, Y/N!"

When James's cry tore your mind from the shock, you understood that you had made a mistake.

Spells don't work on werewolves.

A gasp left your mouth when the werewolf directed its attention from Severus to you. You didn't see Snape fleeing or James carefully walking to you. All you could see was the icy light in its eyes glaring at you, sending sheer panic down your spine.

You hesitated to make any more sound, no matter how much you wanted to yell James's name for help.

You didn't know how to fight werewolves, no one had ever taught you that. You didn't want to die, either.

The growl from the beast intensified, sending you enough signals that the inevitable was close. With your every step back, it was taking a step forward.

No, no, no, no, no, no.

"Y/N RUN!

And you did.

You ran until your lungs gave out, your legs crippled, and your heart burst.

You ran until your eyes watered from the chilly air, your nose hurt from the sharp breaths, and your ears echoed the beast's growls.

A branch cut just above your cheek, but you didn't stop.

You ran until you lost control of your mind, giving it up to your body, performing purely under adrenalin.

But the beast ran with you, too. It followed you into the forest, howling and growling, letting you know death was close. Letting you know that the screams drowning in the night were in vain. Letting you know that the tears staining your face were in vain.

Your breaths mingled with your screams, your hair getting into your mouth. Sweat and tears melded into each other, burning up the cut on your face.

Before you could understand what had happened, your body hit the cold ground with a thud. Your eyes clenched shut, taking in pain vibrating through you. You felt the soil staining your face and body. Your weeping turned into a shriek when you felt yourself yanked into the dirt on your stomach.

Your eyes widened with fear when you finally fathomed the claw grabbing your ankle. It dragged you back, hoping to get the claws on your throat, too. Your fingers dug into the earth. You fought to free yourself from the beast. The jagged stones on the ground gashed your forearm. The dirt stung the gash. Your blood glistened under the moonlight. The beast howled. It turned you on your back.

Remus, Remus, Remus.

One last cry left you. The beast raised its claws, towering over you.

Remus.

You closed your eyes. The tears didn't stop.

Moony.

A high-pitched whine soared in the sky. You were sure it didn't come from you. Something hit your hip. You opened your eyes.

A stag.

A stag stroke the beast with its horns in the underbelly, tossing it away from you. The stag jumped over you, attacking the werewolf again. Animalistic voices ascended in the middle of the Forbidden Forest.

You crawled behind a large rock and took deep breaths. You knew you had to run. This was your opportunity to flee for your life, but you had exhausted your body. You needed time to recover.

The growls and whines never stopped. They got louder and quieter. Closer and farther. You didn't know.

You raised your head. The Moon was gleaming, casting light your way as if telling you to get going. You couldn't. Not now.

You lowered your head at your hands. They were filthy with dirt, the soil blackening the insides of your nails.Y̶o̶u̶r̶ ̶f̶i̶n̶g̶e̶r̶s̶ ̶d̶u̶g̶ ̶i̶n̶t̶o̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶e̶a̶r̶t̶h̶. You moved your left arm, checking the backside of your forearm. T̶h̶e̶ ̶j̶a̶g̶g̶e̶d̶ ̶s̶t̶o̶n̶e̶s̶ ̶o̶n̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶g̶r̶o̶u̶n̶d̶ ̶g̶a̶s̶h̶e̶d̶ ̶y̶o̶u̶r̶ ̶f̶o̶r̶e̶a̶r̶m̶. You winced at the scar and the fresh blood around it. Y̶o̶u̶r̶ ̶b̶l̶o̶o̶d̶ ̶g̶l̶i̶s̶t̶e̶n̶e̶d̶ ̶u̶n̶d̶e̶r̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶m̶o̶o̶n̶l̶i̶g̶h̶t̶.̶

Without warning, a sob left put your mouth, startling you. You pressed your uninjured hand on your lips, listening around. The voices had stopped. Neither the stag nor the beast was there. You were safe.

Your hands didn't leave your mouth, so terrified that if they did, you would make a noise and lure in the beast again. You knew your body was reacting to the shock and exhaustion, but you despised the tears flooding from your eyes. You needed to get it together and leave the Dark Forest. Albeit the beast was gone, the forest was still dangerous.

You stood up with a groan, not lowering your wand for protection. Your clothes were spoiled, and you were hurting. You looked around to find a familiar way back to the castle.

"Y/N!"

You aimed your wand at the voice, your heart retaking the pace. The voice was familiar, but you were not in the right mind to identify it.

"It's me, hey. Lower your wand," James's gentle voice weakened your muscles, your hand shaking and breath hitching. Relief surged you from head to toe.

You didn't remember when you dropped your wand into the ground and threw yourself into James's warm embrace. You only remembered how he soothed you as you sobbed with exhaustion.

"You alright?" he put a hand on your shoulder and the other on your wrist to check you out after you pulled away from the hug. You nodded, feeling his gaze on your injured arm.

"Where were you?" You didn't recognise your own tone, rasp and brittle.

"Here. With you."

Something hit you in the gut. A realisation twinkled in your mind, finally comprehending the depth of 'Prongs'.

"You were the stag."

He smiled at you. "I knew you were a bright witch."

James Potter being an animagi wasn't the first priority for you tonight.

"What happened to..." you couldn't let out the rest of the sentence. The beast. R̶e̶m̶u̶s̶

"I led it back to the Whomping Willow."

The next moments passed with silence, you two walking together to the castle and James subtly keeping his hand behind your back to make sure you were fine. You relived everything from the beginning, this time making sense of the incidents. You had so many questions and even more feelings gushing in you.

"I don't understand, James."

"Hmh?"

"Why was Snape there? Where were Sirius and Peter?"

You heard James clear his throat. His tone changed from gentle to furious in a moment.

"Sirius told Snape how to get into the Whomping Willow. That bastard thought it would be a good prank. He told me later because he had started to second-guess himself," he retorded, "Peter was also there, you just didn't see him. I sent him to make sure Severus gets into the castle safely."

No.

You shook your head, not believing your ears. This couldn't be what Sirius meant by handling the Snape problem. You didn't want to believe it. Not because you were thinking too highly of Sirius but because you imagined how devastated Remus would be the next morning. You knew how much he trusted his friends.

"Remus..." you muttered under your breath, earning a hum from James that signalled him thinking the same thing.

"Sirius will be in big trouble. I'm sure Snape had already run to Dumbledore."

You turned to James with widened eyes, he talked before you could panic.

"Don't worry. He didn't see me as the stag or see Peter at all. That's why I was belated. I'm sorry I couldn't make it there sooner."

"Thank you for even making it there," you whispered, closing your eyes when the castle entered your sight. You avoided thinking about the possibility that James might not make it in time. What would happen then was something tragedic you never wanted to admit. "Will you see Remus tomorrow morning?"

James looked at you with such intense emotion that you thought he was pitying you.

"I will but–"

"I want to be there with you."

"No, Y/N, listen," he scratched his chin. You stared at him in question.

"I will have to explain everything to Remus tomorrow. And by that," he said, "I mean everything."

"James, I want to–"

"No. I don't want you to be there when I tell him how he almost killed you. I'm sure he wouldn't want you to be there either."

"But it's not his fault–"

"That's not what he's going to think in the morning. I'll talk to him alone. Don't insist."

This was the most serious you had ever seen James Potter. Thus, you knew he wasn't going to back down. So, you didn't insist.

By the time you were in the common room, your body had calmed down, now only exhibiting exhaustion symptoms. James hugged you one more time before sending you to your dorm room.

"Shower with warm water and go to bed. I'll be in the common room if you can't sleep."

You wanted to ask him why he didn't go to sleep, but you couldn't even part your lips. So you simply offered him a weak smile and headed straight to the bathroom. The girls in your room were already asleep, meaning you had to be extra careful not to wake them up.

You scoffed at your reflection in the bathroom mirror. Frantic hair, shrunk pupils, a cut on your cheek and dirt on your face. As if all these weren't enough, the gash on your arm was throbbing with pain, blood staining your sweater and maybe even Sirius's jacket too.

You stepped into the shower and let the warm water clean you thoroughly. You clenched your teeth to suppress the groan you wanted to let out of pain from your cuts. The black dirt left you as the water stroke down your body, helping you get this night out of your skin.

Your eyes were glued to the dirt getting washed away, harking back to how the beast hauled you onto the ground. Your skin still remembered the burn from the rough friction.

You couldn't close your eyes, you couldn't even blink. Every time you did, a pair of two glistening yellow eyes would stare at you, threatening to hunt you down if you kept your eyes closed a second more. If you thought about the beast a little bit more, you were sure you would have a panic attack.

So you let your mind wander around something else.

Brown locks, chocolate eyes and pink lips.

Your lips curved when you recalled his soft voice, the way he called you dove. You warmed up, and not because of the water but because of the memory of how Remus gently stroked your hair. How he wiped away your tears. How he braided your hair perfectly after begging Peter to teach him. How he had always given you something hand-made on your birthdays because he couldn't buy anything.

You missed him. You missed the gentle smile he was always offering you. You missed your tender bickering and his teasing innuendoes.

You had missed your best friend, and no matter what would happen tomorrow, you were going to talk to him.

You couldn't sleep well that night. You even had a nightmare about what happened.

James was late in the dream; you died in the end.

So you stayed up all night, only being able to dive into sleep when the air was lightening up, turning into sapphire blue. At the same time of the day, Remus was turning back to his human self. You would chuckle at the irony if you weren't sleep deprived.

When you woke up, your heart was hammering in your chest. Your roommate was beside you, a glass of water in her hand. You felt sweat drops in your neck and temple; you must be having another nightmare, then.

She offered you the glass, which you gladly accepted.

"Thank you," you said rather hoarsely.

"It's almost five in the afternoon, hun."

You sat up in your bed, brushing your hair back with your hands. You had a terrible headache.

"It is?"

"Aye. You sure you're alright?"

"Yes, Lizzie, thank you," you smiled at her before leaving the bad. You were both grateful and uneasy that you had missed the most part of the day. This meant that Remus had already learned about the prank.

You eyed yourself in the bathroom mirror. You looked way better than yesterday night, undoubtedly. Your face had gained its colour back, and your frenzied eyes were glistening with something other than horror. The only flaws were the small cut on your face and the new eyebags.

You got ready and went down to the common room. Because it was Sunday today, the common room was crowded with students.

Your eyes searched any of the Marauders but failed. They weren't here, and you were hungry. You made your way to the Great Hall, accompanied by nice growls from your stomach. Fortunately for you, it was dinner time.

You were too focused on the food before to find yourself a seat, so you didn't notice anyone approaching you. You flinched when a kind hand touched your arm.

"Y/N?"

"Oh, hiya Lily."

The red-haired girl smiled at you with emerald eyes. She pointed to a corner around the table with her finger. "Potter asked me to call you."

Your eyes found James, who looked as tired as you but still managed to put on a simpering smile. "Cheers," you said to Lily.

You sat next to him, stuffing your plate. Your stomach growled harder at sight.

"How are you feeling?" James asked, watching you nibble on a toast.

"Have been worse. You?"

"Have been worse."

You knew what you had to ask him, but you also knew you needed your appetite at the moment, or you would starve yourself. So you simply hummed and hastened to finish your meal.

You tried not to think about the two empty seats as you sipped your drink. James and Peter were having small talk, trying to lighten the mood. You didn't listen to that either.

You swallowed your last piece as slowly as possible, delaying the inevitable. James looked at you briefly, and you understood what it meant. He raised from his seat, having you follow him.

When you two found an abandoned corner, you turned to him, tuning out the racing of your heart.

"You didn't sleep, did you?" he pointed under your eyes with a nod of his head. You shook your head.

"Did you talk to him?"

Unfamiliar gloom darkened James's features. "I did. Told him everything."

He glanced at you before averting his eyes away again. "He just listened. Thanked me in the end and said he wanted to be left alone."

Your heart clenched in pain. You didn't want him to be left alone. "Where is he?"

"Dunno. Didn't look for him."

"Where's Sirius?"

James stayed silent for a few seconds. "Dunno, either. We had a fight, but my guess is somewhere in the forest in his animagi form."

You didn't dwell on it any further. You loved Sirius, but you loved Remus more than anyone. Albeit you weren't furious at him, you still didn't plan on seeing him any sooner.

"I need to talk to Remus, James."

"I truly don't know where he is."

You had to find him. You had to find him and tell him that it wasn't his fault.

You nodded at James, mumbling a quick bye before wandering around the castle, trying to figure out where he could be.

He wouldn't go to the library. It would be an easy guess for anyone trying to find him.

James said Sirius would be outside of the castle. You were sure Remus wouldn't risk encountering him.

That left you two or three places that you knew Remus would run whenever he wanted to avoid people. So you got going.

You didn't find him at Room of Requirement or Hospital Tower. You cursed the school for being this large in area. It took you almost an hour to get from one side of the castle to another. Fortunately, you were sure Remus was on the Astronomy Tower.

As you got closer and closer to the tower, anticipation chased your heartbeats high, your hands fidgeting with their fingers. You took a moment to regulate your breathing, which had no effect on your pacing heart.

Without wasting one more moment, you entered the tower.

There he was, sitting on the ground, his head low between his hands. Around him was cold and dark, gleaming with the light from the Moon and stars. Your heart ached at the sight of him. You stepped forward, letting the sound of your footsteps alert him. He didn't acknowledge you, but you were sure he had heard you. Heartbreak burned through you, maiming you because of the distance between you two.

Your steps stopped next to him. He still hadn't looked up to you but hadn't asked you to go away either. So you sat next to him, raising your head to gaze at the stars while his head was low between his hands.

"The stars are beautiful, Remus."

He didn't budge. He didn't even move. You peeked at his chocolate-brown hair, suppressing the urge to mess with them.

"Your hair looks nice today."

Silence. You didn't know if he was ignoring you or simply ignoring everyone, and it wasn't something about you.

"Doesn't your neck hurt?"

"No."

You gulped when his voice echoed in the air.

"It must hurt if you've been keeping it like that for a long time."

"It doesn't."

"Liar."

Silence again. You yearned for his voice once more.

"You can put your head on my shoulder, Remus."

"No."

"Why not?"

"Go away, dove."

His voice was fragile and pleading. It broke your heart, shattered it into million little pieces. A lump made its way to your throat.

"Why?" you asked, a voice as broken as your heart. "I don't want to go away."

"But I want you to," he loosened his fingers from his hair, dropping them to his lap.

You turned to him. "Don't push me away, Remus."

You reached for his hand, but he gently pulled them away. "Remus, please."

He shook his head, still not looking at you.

"I need to know why you don't want me here."

He left your side, ambling to the parapet of the tower and leaning to it. You stared at his back in disbelief.

"Remus-"

"Go away, Y/N."

"You won't even look at my face when you kick me out."

Finally, he snapped his head and locked eyes with you. His eyes looked tired, blazing into yours. He had a new scar under his lower lip, from James's horns, probably.

"Go away."

You stood up, frowning in annoyance. "No, I'm not going anywhere," you took stern steps in his direction and closed the disturbing distance. "We need to talk, Remus."

You adored his amber eyes despite your annoyance. You loved to dive into its depth and get lost, sorting out every colour one by one.

He stayed where he was, but you detected his eyes lowering from your eyes. He stared at the cut above your cheek, clenching his jaw.

You unconsciously turned away and hid it from Remus. Memories flooded in a blink and raised the panic inside you. You could still feel the wind hitting your face and the sting from the branch that cut your skin as you fled for your life from the beast.

"It's nothing," you uttered.

Remus scoffed at your face. You saw his eyes change into something harsh and his brows furrow.

"Yeah, sure. The cut in your arm is also nothing."

You didn't ask how he knew that. After all, James did tell you that he would let Remus know everything.

"It'll heal."

"And why is it there in the first place?"

Remus took a step forward when you didn't answer.

What were you supposed to say? Because his wolf form chased you down, and you got injured trying to flee?

"I'll tell you why," he said, voice raised. "Because I hunted you down, tossed you to the ground, and yanked you around. I only did it so I could kill you."

"No–"

"Is that what you wanted to talk about? How I'm a bloodthirsty monster whose first instinct is to kill?"

"You weren't yourself."

"What would happen if James wasn't there?"

You pushed your lips together and closed your eyes. This was the last thing you wanted to talk about.

"No, open your eyes," he raised your head by your chin, forcing you to look him in the eye. "Tell me what would've happened if James wasn't there."

You blinked away the tears that were threatening to invade your vision. Remus made you relive the same nightmare you had that night over and over again.

"Why are you doing this?"

"Because I need you to understand! I need you to understand that I'm not someone you can fucking love!"

You startled in your place, both by his anger and claim. Something had burst into flames inside you now that he had finally acknowledged your feelings.

You opened your mouth to quarrel, to tell him he's wrong, and that you loved him more than anyone or anything in the world. But he didn't let you interrupt him.

"You think I haven't thought about what you said in the last two days? You haven't left my mind for even a bloody second!" his tone was raised but broken.

"You were the one pushing me away!"

"Because I wanted to keep you away from all this shit! I wanted you to see me as something other than a cursed boy. Why do you think I never shared that secret with you?!"

"That secret is part of your story, Remus. If you thought that I wouldn't love you with it, you must've been out of your mind."

You didn't think he understood the depth of your love for him, and you needed him to understand. It didn't even matter if your feelings were not returned.

He shook his head no.

"No one, Y/N, no one loves a monster like me."

"I do," you pleaded.

Words weren't enough to convince him or express your love for him, but you were trying.

He took your arm in his hand and pulled the left sleeve of your sweater up, revealing the gash. You tried to pull your arm back, but he overpowered you, tightening the hold on your arm. You grimaced when his fingers pushed on the scar.

"This is what happens when you love someone like me."

You used your whole strength and tugged your arm back. You marvelled at your tone when you spoke.

"Stop it! You weren't yourself, Remus!"

"How does that even change anything?!" he screamed, his voice breaking and his eyes tearing up. "Don't you understand? I am a danger to you!

"Remus–"

"You think this is easy for me?! I have fucking lost my mind these last two days because you were the only one in it! My brain wouldn't think of any name other than yours! My heart wouldn't beat for any name other than yours! And when I am finally ready to tell you that I love you, too, James comes and tells me that I almost fucking killed you!"

His eyes were blood red, and the veins in his neck had popped up. Tears left his red eyes and paved the way down from his jawline to his neck.

Remus was crying.

It was a sight you had never got used in the last five years.

Your mind refused to work, denying to comprehend the words that left his mouth. It was all too much, and all in one moment.

"You love me, too?'

You didn't recognise your own voice, probably because all you could hear was Remus's confession. You expected your heart to race this time also, but instead, it was dead silent. Or maybe you were just too focused on Remus's eyes.

His tears never stopped, and he never tried to stop them.

He was breaking down at last.

You walked up to him and closed whatever distance was left. You looked up into his eyes as he lowered them to you.

"But you didn't kill me," you whispered, bringing your hand to his cheek. He closed his eyes, raining more tears on your hand. You gently wiped them away.

"I'm here, Remus. I'm here, and I'm telling you that I love you. I don't love you despite your curse, I love you with it."

Remus scrunched up his face, letting out a sob before sinking his head down your shoulder. You felt his tears on your neck.

At that moment, you knew no words would ever soothe the storm in his heart.

So you held him as he bawled like a child.

His crying sent daggers to your heart, ripping it open.

You begged for his pain to become yours so that he would never hurt the way he was hurting now.

You didn't know how many minutes past. All you knew was Remus's sobs and whimpers hurt you like nothing else ever did.

You didn't let go when the heavy sobs turned into heavy sighs or when the tear-fall in your neck turned into warm breaths.

You caressed his hair and kissed his neck when he calmed down. When he talked, it was gritty and low.

"I'm a monster, dove. A monster that will tear you to pieces if you get near."

"I love you," you whispered. You felt him let a short, breathy scoff to the crook of your neck.

"I attacked Snape last night like a beast."

"I love you."

"I almost killed you."

"I love you."

"I love you too."

You shut your eyes, breaking your face into a tiny smile. Four words, one sentence, and his lips close to your neck was all you needed for revival.

Remus inched away from your neck, lingering his lips next to your wound. The red in his eyes hadn't worn off, but the brown of his eyes was blazing with affection.

You drew a sharp breath when he kissed above your cheek.

He caressed the nick lengthwise with tender pecks. His hand grazed your other cheek while the other one made its way to your waist.

You held your breath when he lowered his lips, hovering them above your lips. His hot breath tingled your face, you fought the urge to close your eyes.

He whispered your name, and that's when you gave in. You closed your eyes and unknowingly parted your lips.

One second lasted one year.

Something flamed up down in your chest when you felt Remus's soft lips on yours. He kissed your lips gentle and soft, but short. Pulling back, he stared into your eyes, chestnut brown darkening with every second.

"I love you," he whispered.

Within a blink, his lips crashed into your lips again, this time more intense, more passionate, taking away the air in your lungs. You melted to his touch, letting his lips savour yours while his hand on your waist tugged you closer. Your breaths mingled together, leaving your heart fluttering in your ribcage.

If time had stopped and trapped you at this moment, you wouldn't complain.

You craved his scent on your soul, his touch on your body and his lips on your lips. But most importantly, you were more than glad to be buried in his love.

He pulled away and smiled at the way you filled your lung with air. You felt his thumb caress your face.

"There's no getting rid of me, now, dove."

His smile was tired, his eyes still carrying the heartbreak of yesterday. You knew he was still a broken boy inside, but you loved him anyway.

Thank you for reading. Let me know what you think!

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