celluifleur - Tumblr blog

celluifleur · 14 hours

Text

THE PROPHECY | LUKE CASTELLAN

synopsis: series of events between zeus!reader and luke that started the prophecy. not canon-compliant; inspired by the prophecy by taylor swift.

series masterlist | previous | next

I guess a lesser woman would've lost hope. A greater woman wouldn't beg but I looked to the sky and said "Please."

The first time you burned offerings, you had hope that your father would acknowledge you. It was the day after you got to Camp Half-Blood. You burned your entire plate of food, choosing to starve for the night, in hopes that your father would offer his condolences. Perhaps, he'd empathize with you. You both lost someone, after all, you a sister and he a child.

But nothing happened. You thought you did it wrong, that your father just didn’t hear your prayers– he wasn’t ignoring you, of course not, what parent would ignore their grieving child? You stayed up the entire night reading ancient texts, knocking on the doors of cabins to speak to head counselors for guidance. You were too naive about this life to notice the pity in their eyes then. None of them had the heart to tell you that your father wouldn't show mercy, at least not in the way you wanted him to. They never did.

You tried again the next day, only to be met with the same fate. But Luke, who had heard of your attempts, saved half of the food he was given and knocked on the door of the lonely Zeus cabin to share it with you. He'd gotten in trouble for not burning an offering that day, but he didn't care. He wasn't going to let you go to bed hungry two nights in a row.

As the days turned into weeks and weeks into months, then years, your offerings began to get smaller and smaller, until finally, prayers became more of a chore, a thing to check off on your to-do list. It stopped meaning something. It was three years of unanswered, half-hearted, prayers.

Luke stumbled into Camp Half-Blood midday. A large gash was across his face, blood staining his skin. He was clutching his side, shirt nearly ripped to shreds, similar to how his skin was raw and frayed under his clothes. He'd used all his strength to carry himself into camp before falling to his knees when his eyes finally found you in the chaos of it all.

He said your name once, voice hoarse and scratchy like Ladon clawed his way inside Luke, ripping out his vocal cords, not sparing a part of him from destruction. When he finally collapsed, you ran to him, smearing the red of his blood all over your own clothes, as the Apollo kids pried you away from him.

For the first time in three years, you were going to bed hungry again. The charred remnants of what would've been your dinner created a foul scent in the air. Luke’s blood was still lodged beneath your fingertips, staining your hands even after you’ve rubbed them raw. It made you sick.

"Dad," You pleaded, watching the smoke fade into the night sky. Your tears were flowing down your face, chest heaving as you ignored the distant sounds of the campers you were meant to be looking after. "I haven't asked you for anything in years, but now I'm asking you this. They can't take him. Please, not Luke."

For a moment the world seemed to still. The clouds in the sky disappeared, specks of white faded into the midnight blue. You turned around, looking for a sign of life somewhere, anywhere. There was nothing but silence, no sounds of owls hooting in conversation, no whistles of the air, no chatter of the few kids who stayed at camp.

When the flame in front of you extinguished with a whoosh, the darkness engulfed you, leaving nothing but the thin light illuminated by the moon. Black smoke rose from the pit as you looked up to the sky, "Please."

A flash of light vanished as quickly as it came. There appeared a ragged line perfectly between the peaks of the mountains, bright white, leaving a haze of silver in your vision. Then a rumble of the earth, shaking the ground your knees were glued to. Lighting and thunder. A sign that Zeus had heard you.

A high-pitched noise rang across the world, different frequencies like it was caused by more than just one thing. The noise made you cover your ears with your open palms, groaning as you fell over by the sheer power of it. Then the world resumed, like what you just witnessed, what you just experienced, was a glitch in the fabric of time.

Your offerings were nothing but ashes now and the clouds returned to the sky, this time carrying the weight of water as droplets fell on your bare skin. You stood up, rushing to the infirmary, barely beating the relentless storm that was brewing.

Lee Fletcher turned around at the sudden intrusion, eyes wide in shock for the second time that night. You stood at the door, trying to catch your breath. He smiled at you, as he took two steps to the left, then disappeared in the other room. Luke was propped on his bed, shoulders hunched over as he touched the bandages on his face. As if he felt your presence, he turned his head, wincing at the pain that shot up his spine when he overextended. Even with one eye taped shut, you saw his gaze soften.

His voice came out as a whisper, barely audible, but you still heard it. "Hey, you."

Your body seemed to have a mind of its own. If it wasn't for the sounds of your footsteps pounding against the wooden floors, if it wasn't for your hands reaching over to touch Luke's face, warmth spreading against your skin to anchor you, to show you that he's really there in front of you, you wouldn't have believed that this was real.

The gods were cruel sometimes. They messed with your head until you were questioning your own sanity. At first, you thought this was one of their games, one of the things they did to toy with mortals for their own entertainment. Perhaps, Luke wasn’t really here; But then you felt it– his heart. Thump. Thump. Thump. Home. This was real.

"You're okay," You cried, hands grazing over every part of his body. You tried to ignore the raised flesh under the bandages, running across large expanses of his skin. The scars were still fresh, blotches of red marking the white cloth. "You're okay."

"I'm okay," He repeated, a side smile appearing on his face. His hands gripped your waist, needing to feel you just as much as you needed to feel him. Luke wanted to tell you that all he thought of was you the whole time. Even when the sides of his vision darkened, and all he could do was drag himself through the familiar neck of the Montauk woods, it was the image of you that he kept chasing.

You, waiting for him under the shade of Thalia’s tree. You, shaking him awake in the Hermes cabin to start your rounds around camp. You, smiling at him like there was something worth living for in this life. You.

Luke wanted to tell you that it was the promise of spending life with you, even if he was nothing more than your best friend to you, that kept him hanging onto the thread of life. If he survived this, he swore to himself that he'd tell you how he truly felt about you. He couldn't die without you knowing.

"I shouldn't have lied to you," You said, "I should've told you to stay like I wanted to."

Luke shook his head, "This isn't on you. I wasn't fit to go on this quest. I failed."

"You're the strongest person I know, Luke."

"This wasn't a test of strength," He snarled. Luke always got like this when he talked about things related to his father and the gods. Resentment dripped from his voice like honey. It wasn't a tone you were too familiar with because he never spoke to you like this. "I was right. This was a test of something else. He sent me on this quest to fail... and I fell for it."

Luke did things with conviction. He was born to be a leader and it showed. He never cowered from a challenge. He held his head high, even when things didn't go his way. He learned from his mistakes and he made sure it would never happen again.

But sometimes, in the rare moments where the pain of failure pierces his heart, he turns into the little boy you once met. The same one who did things for the approval of his father. The same one who defied the odds and fell into the traps of the insincerity of the gods. The same one who blamed himself for not being good enough– not good enough to save his mother from the Oracle, not good enough to save his friend, not good enough to warrant more than two sentences from his father.

You always said that you and Luke were two sides of the same coin, both burdened by the feeling of knowing you should’ve done more, but differed in the way you went about life. Luke welcomed his responsibilities, fueled by his search for glory, while you shied away from this life as much as you could.

Your mouth felt dry as the heavy raindrops trickled against the window pane, "I'm glad you're still here."

"I couldn't leave you here on your own," He replied, voice dropping to a whisper. His hands tugged you closer to him. You let him wrap his arms around you, feeling his heart against your chest. "Can I tell you something?"

"Always."

"I–" This was it. He couldn't wait anymore, not when he faced death and all he could think of was how his heart would ache, longing for you, until your time came to join him in the afterlife. Even on the brink of his demise, all he could think of was you. He wasn’t afraid of dying, he was afraid of being in Elysium without you. Would it even be a paradise if you weren’t there?

Luke's words got caught in his throat. His confidence was at an all-time low. If you rejected him now, he doesn't think he'd be able to bear it. He didn't think he could handle the thought of facing the repercussions of this failed quest without you by his side. He cleared his throat, "I-I'm tired. Will you stay here tonight?"

You nodded, running your hands through his hair as you gently laid him down on the bed, careful not to put pressure on his wounds. You kept your distance, afraid to cause more harm than good, but Luke was not having any of it. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against his weak body. He couldn’t move much in fear that he’d tear his skin even more with any slight movement, but that was the least of his worries. In fact, he had no worries now.

He made it to Camp Half-Blood, alive, albeit a failure, but he was with you. There were no worries in the world anymore.

“Luke?” You whispered. You turned to face him, recognizing the face you’ve grown to love even in the darkness of the cabin. The flashes of lightning illuminated his face every so often. Despite all of this, he still looked beautiful. Your Luke always did.

“Hm?” He hummed, eye fluttering open at the sound of your voice. The noise of the storm was drowned out by your soft breaths against his cheek, warm and comforting. “What is it?”

“You know I love you, right?” You professed, reaching up to touch the uncovered side of his face. He melted into your touch, feeling safe and seen in such a small action. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if you didn’t make it.”

“You should know by now that I’ll never leave you,” He chuckled, nudging your nose with his. “I’ll be kicking and screaming if they ever try to keep me away from you. They’ll have to send more than one dragon to keep me from you.”

You laughed, “You’re insane, you know that?.”

“I know,” He looked down at your lips. You’d both been in situations like this before, caught in the magnetic pull of each other, but had enough strength to pull away before either of you could do anything that would lead to regret. “For the record, I love you, too.”

“Do you?” You breathed out, wondering if he understood your question. You said it to each other often. You both let it linger in the air, subtext and unsaid words on the tips of your tongues. “Do you love me?”

The way you were looking at him made his heart race. Is it the right time to tell you everything? Is it too soon? Will you think that he was just saying these things because of what happened? Would you trust him if he told you that he loved you in every way that a person could ever love another?

If he asked you if you trusted him with your life, you’d say yes with no hesitation. You’d trusted him with your life since you first met him. All his life, Luke had been taught to be wary of the people he met, but not when he met you. It was like you saw right through him. You understood him like nobody he’d ever met.

“I love you,” He said, hoping that it was enough to show you. If he had his way, he would let you peek into his mind, his soul, and his heart, just so you’d see that all of him yearned for you.

“Do you–” You paused, tilting your head to brush your lips against his. The storm began to calm outside. “Do you love me like this?”

Luke’s grip on your waist tightened, hands burning against the exposed flesh on your lower back, “Yes. Always.”

You sighed, placing your lips on his. You felt Luke shiver at the feeling. His lips moved against your own in a gentle kiss, innocent and kind. The rain ceased. You pulled away from him, continuing to trace patterns on his skin. Luke’s face relaxed as he held you in his arms, letting the tiredness in his bones win.

When the both of you woke the next morning, the sun was shining brightly through the curtains, with no traces of last night’s storm to be seen.

272 notes · View notes

celluifleur · 4 days

Text

Devotion

a/n: hi! thank you guys sm for the support on my last piece of writing! i am thinking about opening up requests, so if you guys have a request, then feel free to send it in! I'm only taking marauders requests at the moment tho! I will write poly!fics, x reader, and maybe smut depending on how i feel! thanks again!

Remus Lupin x reader

Content Warning: 18+, almost smut but not smut, and fluff :) lemme know if there are any other content warnings that should be added

Remus Lupin was the perfect gentleman. He knew when to say please and thank you. He offered to carry his friend's books. He held open doors for others and said good morning to everyone who came and went. He had these manners drilled into him as a child. He even reminds James when he should say please and thank you, and he gets on to Sirius when he says something rude. Remus Lupin happened to be a perfect guy in general. Obviously, he is not without his faults, but he is at least mindful and caring.

Knowing this, it still shocks you when he asks if he can help you while kneeling on the ground. His wide hazel eyes looking up into your suprised eyes with his hands on your hips.

It's dizzying to even think how you got into this situation. Remus and you were assigned together on a project for transfiguration. You both had decided it was best to work in his room. Remus and you were close friends up until now. Sometimes, you had wished you were more than friends, but you normally discard those thoughts almost immediately so as not to ruin your friendship. As of late, though, you seem to find yourself thinking about him more in a less friendly manner. Some of these thoughts have turned into dreams of a sexual nature. This has left you sexually frustrated in all the wrong ways. At this particular moment, your eyes happened to land upon Remus's hands as they were writing. His hands are quite big, and his fingers are long and slender. With that being said, you begin to get lost in thought. You hadn't really even noticed you were staring until Remus spoke up, "Hey, are you okay? You've been spacey all day."

There he goes again with being the perfect gentleman. Concerned for your well-being while looking at you with the softest eyes anyone has ever laid upon you. You hadn't even realized you were staring until now. You felt a pink heat rise to your cheeks as you turned around and muttered that you're fine. Remus had decided to let it be. That was until you both had accidentally touched hands while reaching for something, and you had flinched and backed away. He looked at you as if he hurt you. He opens his mouth as if to ask you something but falters until he finds the courage to speak up, "Okay, something is up with you, and i want to know what's bothering you. I didn't do anything to make you uncomfortable, did i?"

There he goes again. Sometimes, you wish he wasn't so kind. Maybe you would be able to tell him your thoughts a little easier if he wasn't such a good person. You looked up at him, and he was staring at you with such tenderness in his eyes. You could look into his eyes all day if he kept looking at you like that. You proceed to softly whisper, "I'm just...frustrated right now, and i can't quite focus." You put your book down and stand up to walk around and to try and get those thoughts out of your head. "Why are you frustrated? Did i do something to make you upset? I apologize if i did." He states. He hesitates slightly and says, "Is there anything i can do to make up for it?" You just stand there staring at him in disbelief. You don't quite understand the insecurity in his voice when he apologized. Why does he feel the need to apologize for something he did not do? You look at him as if he is the world, and you hope he understands what it means. You scoff before answering, " You didn't do anything. I just...I can't stop thinking about you." You barely whisper that last part. You continue, "I have just been having thoughts that lead to me being frustrated. You don't have to apologize for anything." You look down at your feet, too embarrassed to look him in the eye.

"What kind of thoughts?" This question shocks you a little, and you don't know how to answer it without potentially ruining a good friendship. You hesitate to answer, and Remus notices this. He gets up and walks to where you are standing. His hand meets your face and brings your head up to look him in the eyes. He lets out a breathy whisper, "Please - just please tell me." And with that, you try to look away but end up being drawn back by the soft look he is giving you. With a warm blush rising onto your cheeks again, you let out a whisper, "the thoughts are - sexual." And with that, Remus lets go of your face and drops to his knees. His hands find purchase upon your hips and those soft and kind eyes of his look up into yours from where he is kneeling. He proceeds to ask, "Please, can i help?" He has always been the perfect gentleman, yet this still shocks you. You say in a breathy whisper, "Yes, please." You always knew he was a perfect gentleman, but you really learned that night how he is perfect in more ways than one.

77 notes · View notes

celluifleur · 4 days

Text

Red Wine

Master List <3 Request List <3 Marauders Master List <3

Remus Lupin x Reader

A/n: I lowkey hate this but it was inspired by the image of Sirius Black loving tequila and me thinking that all the muggle born students watching the others get drunk without it touching them was hilarious. This is based in their 7th year.

Summary: Muggle drinks and muggle drinking games.

Warnings: Drinking, mentions of underaged drinking, swearing, kissing, jealousy, fake ID

Word Count: 2232

(NOT MY GIF)

"Psst! Y/n! Over here!"

I spun my head around to see Christopher Adam's waving me over from the corner of the room, pointing enthusiastically at the plastic bag in his hands.

I smiled back at him and nodded enthusiastically.

"I'll be back now." I said to Sirius, who was spinning me around to the ABBA song playing before Chris had interrupted us.

"What does he want?" He asked with a quirked eyebrow "You got a new boyfriend or something?" He laughed slightly as I rolled my eyes and just walked away from him.

Me and some of the other muggle born students were starting to find these Gryffindor parties boring after the summer.

After partying at home with muggle drinks the classic fire whisky and witches brew just wasn't doing anything for us anymore, as funny as it was watching the pure and half bloods get extremely drunk so fast there's only so many parties you can do sober.

Hence Christopher.

A small group of us had gathered our money together and convinced Chris to use one of his approved trips to visit home to stop by a muggle store and complete a shopping list.

It took us a week to make him a fake ID good enough for him to pass as eighteen.

"So? How'd it go?" I asked, smiling brightly at him as I took the bag out of his hands.

"No hassle with the ID, although I did have to go to four stores so I didn't look suspicious buying this much alcohol for everyone." He rolled his eyes with a laugh.

"You're a lifesaver, we all owe you big time. Thank you!"

He just waved me off and I happily ran back over to the boys with the bag in my arms.

They were all giving the an identical look of speculation as I approached.

"What have you done?" James asked, trying to grab the bag off me before I pulled back.

"Why do you assume such little from me! I've gotten you all presents. Muggle presents actually."

Sirius perked up at that, excitedly shaking Remus's shoulders. Causing him to lean the other way with a smile.

"I'm about to show you all how muggles drink, because fire whisky is nothing in comparison. I've got fuck loads of things to share but I tried to get each of you something I thought you'd like."

"So it's alcohol?" Peter asked, now it was him having to push an excited Sirius away.

"Yep! For you Peter, gin. We don't have any tonic so drink it with lemonade, I think you'll like it though." He smiled widely as I handed him the rounded bottle, quickly opening it to smell it.

"It smells nice?"

"Yeah not all alcohol needs to smell like straight ass." I laughed nodding to the fire whisky in his other hand.

"James I've got you some muggle beers. I genuinely think this will change your life." I said with a laugh, handing him over the six pack as he looked at it bewildered.

"Like butter beer?"

"Kinda? Just a lot less sweet."

He nodded with a smile and popped the top of the bottle off, his smile growing as he tasted it.

"This is alcoholic?"

I laughed at him and turned to Sirius who looked like he was about to explode if I didn't show him what else was in the bag.

"Sirius I got you some tequila. There's some lime and salt on the table over there, you'll want them to take a shot. Lily will show you, she's been looking forward to it all night."

He took the bottle off me with a smirk before quickly hugging me from behind, placing an exaggerated kiss on the side of my face before running off.

"Thank you!"

I laughed at him, and watched James follow after him after a mention of Lily, Peter as always followed behind James.

"I hope you got yourself something, you're way too generous."

Remus said, sitting up on the table next to me with a soft smile.

"Oh don't worry I did." I reached to pull the large bottle from the bag "Some good old fashioned vodka for me."

He laughed at me and sniffed the bottle I held out in front of him, recoiling back.

"It smells horrible." He said with a laugh.

"That's how you know it's strong." I replied, coughing hard as I took a sip from the bottle. "I should probably mix it with some coke."

He laughed at me for a minute, nodding "Yeah, probably a good idea. I'll go get you some."

I placed an arm in front of him as he went to move to stop him.

"Not so quick Lupin, didn't think I'd forget you did I?"

"You didn't have to get me anything." A small blush covered his cheeks, reassuring me that I made the right call with getting him something.

"That's why you're my favourite."

"Wow I always thought Sirius was your favourite." He replied with a chuckle.

"Yeah well don't tell him, it would crush him."

He continued to laugh as I pulled the bottle of red wine out of my bag, passing it over to him.

"I think you'll like it, not as strong as the others but you'll enjoy it."

He looked over the bottle inquisitively.

"Thank you, I'll go pour myself a glass and grab you that coke." He smiled warmly at me, squeezing my knee as he got up.

My eyes followed him across the room, I smiled as I watched him interact with an already drunk Sirius who was shouting about the impressive feat of muggle alcohol.

"You're drooling." Mary said from behind me, causing me to jump and hit her in the arm.

"Shut up."

~~~~~

"So you've all been enjoying the muggle drinks, how about a muggle game to go with it!" Marls shouted from the middle of the room, clearly drunk.

A large group slowly made their way into a circle on the floor as Marls enthusiastically went around the room trying to gather a large enough group.

Remus groaned as I pulled him off the wall he was leaning on and led him towards the floor, an obvious smile on his face.

"Ok so you spin the bottle." She giggled while placing one of James's now empty beer bottles into the middle of the group. "You and whoever it lands on go into the broom cupboard for seven minutes. What happens is there is up to you." She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively whilst laughing as the game began.

As the circle slowly made its way around I found myself hunched over onto Remus in a fit of laughter at Sirius and Peters faces as they came out of the cupboard looking very unamused.

As the group calmed down Sirius took his seat back next to me in the circle and most eyes moved towards me.

I giggled awkwardly before leaning forward and spinning the bottle as hard as I could.

As I lent back and watched it spin I silently prayed that it would land on the boy sat next to me who seemed to be avoiding my eye contact as everyone made a drum roll sound around us.

Much to my dismay instead of landing on Remus the bottle instead pointed towards the one and only James Potter whose face went bright red.

I laughed softly and stood up, watching him as he followed. The room whistling as we made our way into the small space.

If it wasn't gonna land on Remus James would've probably been my second choice, he was to in love with Lily to ever make a move on someone else. And I felt the same way about our best friend.

"So this isn't awkward." I joked with a smile.

He just half way laughed in response.

"Everything okay?" I asked, my eyes adjusting in the dark to make out his figure.

"Yeah it's stupid, Lily's just been avoiding me all night. I know I make a fool of myself for her but sometimes I just wish that she would just look at me." He sighed, leaning against the wall.

"Maybe she is and you're just not seeing?"

"Trust me, I'd see." He sadly laughed and I patted his shoulder comfortingly before getting an idea.

"I've got a way that would get her to look at you."

He turned to look at me with what I guessed was a confused expression.

I reached up to unbutton the first two buttons of his shirt.

"Whoa Y/n what are you doing?"

I laughed slighting at him, shaking my head.

"No I'm not doing that, trust me."

I reached up to ruffle my hand through his hair to make it messier, then moving to untuck one side of his shirt.

"Yeah she'll look at me if I look like shit. Is that the plan?" He laughed slightly and I softly hit him with the back of my hand.

I messed my own hair up as well, also shifting my clothes so they were slightly askew.

"Jealousy is the plan James."

It seemed to click with him then and despite the dark I could see the red blush on his face.

"You really think that'll work?"

"I hate to say it but if one thing will make her notice you, it's thinking that you might've noticed someone else. I'm also really drunk so this might be a bad plan."

He laughed at me, covering his mouth to try and stay quieter.

"I'm drunk enough to give it a go." He responded with a smile.

"Last touch." I reached up to move his glasses to sit crooked on his face with a laugh.

"There, perfect. Let's get you your lady."

As I spoke there was a knock at the door, and a second later Sirius Black swung them open.

"Merlin! Didn't see that happening." He said with a laugh, looking between us in disbelief "I always thought you were into Moony Y/n."

James punched him softly in the arm, shaking his head and I just walked past silently, trying to shake the blush off of my face and hoping everyone was just ignoring the obviously drunk pure blood.

I made my way back over to the circle but before I could sit back down Remus had already stood from his spot next to me and walked out of the common room with his bottle of wine.

~~~~~

I'd been wandering the castle grounds looking for Remus for the last thirty minutes.

The party had died down and everyone was so drunk most of them had passed out by now.

I was buzzed enough that the cold wasn't bothering me but I couldn't for the life of me figure out where Remus would've gone.

I sat on the floor against the railing as I finally got to the top of the astronomy tower, the vodka and the amount of stairs I just climbed had knocked the wind out of me.

"Y/n?"

A familiar voice said from next to me, making me jump.

"Jesus, I've been looking for you." I smiled at him but he only held my eye contact for a second before looking back out to the night sky.

"You disappeared, it got boring without you."

He laughed slightly and shook his head, his cheeks turning a shade of pink.

"I'm sure it was fine without me. You and James sure didn't look bored." He chuckled awkwardly making me quirk an eyebrow at him.

"What? Me and James?"

He just nodded, avoiding my eyes.

"James definitely isn't bored, Lily's been all over him all night." I laughed softly and he just looked at me inquisitively.

"Aren't you upset by that?"

"Upset? Why would I be upset? Honestly I think it's a miracle."

He laughed slightly at that and finally looked back over to me.

"But you and James were snogging each other? Was that just a joke or something?"

I just looked at him confused for a second before breaking out into giggles.

"Oh you didn't actually think we did that? Gross no! I just thought that it would make Lily jealous. It worked by the way."

He seemed to think for a second before a small smile finally made its way onto his face.

"Oh, so you didn't actually kiss him?"

I snorted, covering my face quickly in embarrassment.

"No no, I just messed up his hair and unbuttoned his shirt a little. He's not my type."

Remus laughed quietly at that, relaxing a little.

"Good."

I nudged him lightly with my elbow, sliding over to sit next to him, bumping our knees together.

"Careful Lupin it almost feels like you're jealous."

He just looked at me for a second, a little smile on his face as he moved to stand up, offering me his hand.

"Maybe I was." He chuckled softly and pulled me to my feet as I just looked at him dazed.

"C'mon I'll walk you back to your dorm." He threaded our fingers together and went to walk but I didn't move.

"I wanted the bottle to land on you, for the record."

We both stood there for a second, just looking at each other before he grabbed my chin softly and lent down.

I never really liked the taste of red wine until that night.

80 notes · View notes

celluifleur · 4 days

Text

-ˋˏ blame it (on the alcohol)

— percy jackson x daughter of ares!reader

☆ radiostar is playing: blame it by jamie foxx ↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

warnings: alcohol consumption, intense makeout & language.

n/a: I was looking for someone who best suited this fic and Percy was my answer. this is a kind of mad makeout 'cause reader and percy don't get along. ready girls? go

Percy had been drinking too much, an argument with his father had him clutching the beer can with enough force to make his knuckles go white. Stupid oceanic rules, stupid gossiping gods, screw it all. He took another sip of the drink and tried to relax his jaw, which had been as tense as a bear trap. Barely enough light to maneuver through the crowd without bumping shoulders, not that he cared much at the moment anyway, so he made his way to the living room where everyone was dancing. He wondered if drowning himself in the music could make him forget his troubles, was almost willing to entertain the idea until he saw you. Shit, did he really have to run into you right now?

Almost simultaneously, you caught his eye from across the room and smirked, that way Percy couldn't stand. You raised your drink in the air in a greeting gesture, and he huffed, looking away. Your interactions as sweet as ever. Now his night was ruined, and he'd have to leave not even half as drunk as he wanted to be, but the sea of people he'd have to navigate through again kept him in place.

“Just finish this drink and I'm out,” he swore to himself, not very convincingly. That's how the son of Poseidon found himself postponing his departure for over an hour. Beer after beer and drink after drink, he found himself mixing various types of alcohol. The fact that he could still string coherent words together without slurring made him curse his semi-divine metabolism. His green eyes scanned the room, maybe he was looking for you, just out of curiosity, and that's when he spotted you not far from him, dancing. He deliberately sat on the arm of the sofa and leaned back against the wooden wall, watching you.

It angered him that you were there, he hated the children of Ares and their irreverent ways. The way you looked at him earlier told him you knew he'd had a shitty day, rumors spread fast. Now, even having left the camp to have a moment of peace, he couldn't shake it off.

He gripped his disposable cup tighter. He hated you and hated the way you treated him, but he detested even more the way your legs glistened with sweat or the way your dress lifted, giving him a glimpse of your thighs. He must have been crazy to be so focused on that, but knew he had definitely lost his mind when realized he was walking towards you.

You smiled as if you had been waiting for him for a long time, as if you knew he would end up walking towards you, and he felt another pang of anger.

He looked terribly hot, standing there holding the cup with one hand while the other gripped the pocket of his jeans, with a grumpy face and messy hair. Made you bite your lip, and you took his forearm, inviting him to dance.

He would have refused, if it weren't for the soothing contact he felt when your warm skin touched his. He downed the drink in one go and tossed the cup somewhere only the gods knew, couldn't wait to put his hands on your waist and pull you close to him.

— Running away from your problems, Jackson?— You murmured, standing on tiptoes to reach his ear, and he snorted. He gripped your hips, moving them to the rhythm of the music or to his own whim, just to feel control over you, and for the first time, you gave him that pleasure.

—None of your business —he snapped, eyes darkening from the alcohol's effect. He leaned challengingly towards you, you caught his typical sea and cologne scent that only he could wear so well. Your stomach twisted, and you eagerly grabbed the fabric of that plaid shirt he wore over his t-shirt. He smirked.

He was winning, you were losing, and for the first time, you didn't care.

Still, you had to do something, so you turned around, adjusting his heavy hands on you. You started swaying your hips, rubbing your ass against his jeans. Instead of being startled, he pressed himself against you, and nestled his chin on your shoulder, his hot breath on your neck made you tilt your head back, hitting his shoulder.

You knew you’d end up like this eventually, you hated each other, runnin' away from each other, but the tension that was growing up between you only someday win over you. You were a daughter of Ares, you knew hate wasn't far from of passion, in the end, it was a very thin, almost invisible line.

You felt his lips on your neck and how the tension break in an instant; becoming voracious and totally carnal. It didn't take long before he had you pinned against the wall in some corner of someone's house while he devoured your neck. You controlled small moans, although truth be told, in that hustle and bustle no one would notice, nor care. Two more people making out at a party full of drunks?

Your hands eagerly slipped under Percy's shirt, groping blindly as he left kisses on your collarbone until you hugged him under the fabric, impatient to have him closer. He groaned in your ear and made you tilt your head back to give him more space. Your hips rose to clash against his, and he pushed you to be totally plastered against the wall again.

—Behave — he demanded against your ear, and you let out a small whimper. He smiled arrogantly and gave a wet kiss on your cheek. He stroked you with his nose, inhaling your sweet scent mixed with sweat, just teasing you.

Desperation grew in your stomach, and impulsively you buried your hands in his hair, forcing him to look at you, noses colliding and the smell of alcohol mingling with yours. The sober part of your mind wanted to stop and think if it was a good idea, but you were too lazy to reflect when you were so hot, so you kissed him hungrily.

Percy smiled against your lips and let out some huffs when he lacked air, kissing you annoyed, frustrated even he was frowning. He hugged you by the waist to keep you even closer, he felt his lips intertwining and bit your lower lip, making you hiss, he could barely control himself. He growled when he felt you now biting his lip. His head spun with each kiss, with each touch and caress. In no time he couldn't shake the feeling of your body against his, and he squeezed your body even tighter, you just reacted the same way.

Percy felt the anger of finding it pleasurable, of wanting more and having to accept that it was the best makeout session he'd had in a while, and all with you. He didn't want to accept it, so he blame it on the alcohol.

—ffuck, yesterday i drank too much — he said the next day in the dining hall, he looked tired, and a scar was noticeable near the corner of his mouth. From a few meters, you smiled and approached.

—Me too!— you chirped teasingly, obviously poking your nose into other people's conversation. You did know better, you covered your scar with make up.

Percy rolled his eyes and resisted the urge to look at you while nibbling his blueberry pancakes. His friends didn't suspect anything, of all your little daily fights, nothing was new anymore. You held the tray tighter and walked away from them with a smile. So scandalous, so funny, hope gods wanted it to happen again.

279 notes · View notes

celluifleur · 4 days

Text

I woke up and chose arson (I lit a candle, blasted sad songs and pretended I was in a music video)

49 notes · View notes

celluifleur · 4 days

Text

My room matches the rest of my life, an absolute mess.

36 notes · View notes

celluifleur · 5 days

Text

୧ ׅ𖥔 ۫ oh he looks so cute, wrapped around my finger! ⋄ 𓍯

….IN WHICH: i made a fic based of espresso by sabrina carpenter/luke is WHIPPED.

tags/warnings: toothrotting fluff, luke & reader is mentioned to have exes, ‘she was like a shot of espresso,’ kinda short, not proofread, not in my usual format.

ೃauthor notes⁀➷ sorry for not feeding yall for awhile i been busy asl☠️☠️!!!! my sister lowkey got hit by a car

—“now he’s thinkin’ about me every night.”

luke tossed and turned in the cabin, clearly getting on the nerves of the younger campers. he couldn’t help it, though. luke was never one to be able to sit still when giddy with excitement. y/n l/n was basically the only thing on his mind.

of course she was, she was on everyone’s mind. luke didn’t know what spell she cast on the boys at camp half-blood to make them look at her like olympus lost a god. y/n was like a shot of espresso to luke, she could wake up him at any time of night. just like now.

“jesus, luke. go to bed,” a younger camper complained with a huff. he mumbled a small sorry in response, trying to meditate himself to sleep. he’d felt quiet jealous of hypnos’ kids. maybe then—he’d be able to sleep.

—“too bad your ex don’t do it for ya!”

you were better than anyone else he’d ever have. anybody else wouldn’t compare, not in the slightest. his other exes seemed almost incompetent with you in his life.

they didn’t hold him the way you did, didn’t have him wrapped around your pretty fingers like you do. luke looked at the past with sympathy for his past self. ignorance is bliss. ignorance being, obviously, that he didn’t have the pleasure to call you his.

he didn’t know what you’d put in his coffee to make him love you like you personally paint the sunsets every evening.

luke couldn’t imagine himself with anyone else even if he tried. and, truthfully, neither could you. you can’t even fathom that you let anyone other than luke wrap their arms around you.

mutual love. but, of course, to him you were everything. his one and only.

—“oh, he looks so cute wrapped around my finger!”

“there goes your wife.” “wait, what? really?”

chris just meant to taunt him. a little bit of teasing between friends. he didn’t expect luke to almost get whiplash from how quick he turned his head to even catch a glimpse. the camp counsellor clicked his tongue, lightly shoving chris’ shoulder.

“that isn’t funny.” “well, i’m sorry, loverboy.” chris rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. he wanted to tell luke he currently sees you. but he knew he’d be shoved again. so he kept silent, listening to luke rant about his shitty sleep since his mind was racing.

luke felt your lips press against his cheek, a quiet ‘mwah’ sound being heard. you giggled at seeing his shocked expression, putting a hand on where you kissed. luke got a loopy grin on his face, looking you up and down.

“hi, luke.” “hey, hun,” he greeted, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. he kissed your temple gently, smiling slightly into the kiss.

chris took notice to the fact that luke’s slumped shoulders looked relaxed, his pinched brows were raised. he acted like he just downed a redbull the second you came around.

396 notes · View notes

celluifleur · 5 days

Text

“i can’t do this anymore” says a girl who is not only going to do it but do it well

28K notes · View notes

celluifleur · 6 days

Text

baby fever, part 3 [remus lupin x reader]

"You like that?"

“I like it,” you practically babbled.

“I know you do, baby.”

tags: marauders era, smut, nsft, friends with benefits with feelings, she/her pronouns used for reader, fem reader, 18+ only please [12k]

chapter list

It was Marlene's birthday this weekend.

You and Marlene weren’t especially close as cousins go. You liked each other, looked out for each other when you could and told each other the gossip when you had it, but you didn’t hang out or plan to go places together, so you weren’t sure what to get her as a gift.

You were in James' kitchen. Lily took Harry for a day out with her mother and Sirius was busy at the farmer's market. You had no idea where Remus was and felt as though asking James would be enough for him to crack you open.

He'd invited you over on the pretense of needing "smaller hands" for the frog Palace. You didn't think your hands were all that small, but it was only an excuse, so far. You hadn't even seen the Palace yet, and you'd been there for two hours.

He had a radio screeching away in the other room, muggle rock, Sirius' doing. The day was brisk and bright, the Potter kitchen shining a blinding white despite how homely and welcoming it was. James was suggesting gift ideas.

"Is she in need of a pet? I know a guy who owns upwards of 11 frogs."

"I can't regift her one of Harry's frogs."

James flopped back in his chair, long hand braced against his forehead in stress. "Good lord. I can't do this anymore, Y/N. It's just too many frogs."

You leaned your elbow on the table, chin in your hand. "You're not very grateful."

"Be careful of your next words, love."

"It can't be that hard. Surely they just live in your garden and eat grass and swim a bit."

"It can't be that hard! You won't mind taking one home then?" he said, kicking his heel against the floor.

You hesitated. "As much as I would love to say yes, I'm sure one jump towards me would do my nerves in."

"Yes, you are rather flighty."

You grumbled at him. "That's not the word I would use."

"What word would you use?"

You were silent.

"Jumpy?" he supplied.

"I don't want to speak to you anymore."

"Suits me."

You giggled, bringing your drink to your mouth in an effort to hide it.

"Flinch-prone?"

"That's terrible," you criticised, swallowing.

He flashed a brilliant grin at you, pushing out of his chair. "Come on, let's sort these frogs out before Lily's back."

It was an easy task that he had for you. The frog Palace was smart, a little wooden home filled with leaf litter and a swimming pool. You were almost in awe, not having expected such a fuss. Your job was to fit the window-shaped holes with tiny plastic windows.

It was punishing on your hands. Within half an hour you were bleeding under one of your fingernails, full of splinters and slightly agitated.

"This is ridiculously fiddly," you complained.

James was searching for frog number 7. "But what an excellent grade you'll get on your assignment, Miss McKinnon."

You pushed a window into the little frame, tugging and pushing and tugging so it fit just right. He must've measured and cut each on with care as they fit so snugly. You looked at him out of the corner of your eye, feeling fond. What an excellent father he had turned out to be.

You gasped. Where you hadn't been looking, hadn't been careful, you'd forced the thick plastic on both sides and it had snapped down the middle, catching the meat of your palm unforgivingly.

You pulled a sharp edge from your hand, watching in surprise as a big bead of blood came with it. The bloody trail traveled down your hand and soiled the cuff of your jumper.

"Flighty," James said again pointedly. He trudged over from his search to assess the damage. "Need to clean that for sure. Quick, no! Leave the windows. We'll fix it after. Get inside."

You felt immeasurably guilty. "Sorry, James. I wasn't looking, I'll-"

"Shush, would you? They were easy to make."

He led you back into the kitchen with your wet shoes, pouring hydrogen peroxide over the small wound. You hissed, eyes burning with unshed tears.

"That hurt more than the cut itself," you whined.

James laughed at you. "I bet it did."

"Don't laugh, I'll never help you out again."

He put a much too small plaster over the cut and tapped it with his finger. "Boom, fixed. You're welcome."

The front door pushes open, a voice calls down the hallway. "Prongs, do you have any - Y/N?"

"Hi, Remus," you said, tucking your injured hand out of sight.

He looked as handsome as ever despite ashen face, leaning against the kitchen doorway. You hadn't seen him in almost two weeks, though he'd phoned you a few times, as you'd been busy making final changes for your book.

"Hi yourself. Finally escaped?"

"Yeah, no work for me for a few days."

"Oh, brilliant. I was thinking we could-"

"Is this the royal 'we'?" James asked, raising his eyebrows.

Both you and Remus made eye contact and burst out laughing.

James was immensely testy from that moment on. “I hate you both. I wish I never let you mess around. Now I get ganged up on by literally everyone in my life.”

“You didn’t let us do anything, Prongs. Y/N’s a big girl, she makes her own decisions.”

“Totally,” you said, enjoying how the further tag-teaming was distressing James. “We’re all grown up, Dad. Stop ruining our lives.”

James threw his hands up in the air and stomped off up the stairs.

“Shall we follow him?” you asked.

“No, he’s alright. What’s with the hand?”

“Oh, this?” you asked, holding your hand up. “Toad palace.”

“Fucking toad palace,” Remus said under his breath. He took your hand in his, turning it left and right. “He’s ruined your lovely hands.”

Your hands were battered. “I have splinters,” you said unhappily.

Remus turned to look through the first aid kit James had left open by the sink. He procured a pair of steel tweezers.

He took your hand in his with the delicate touch you’d come to expect from him. Your eyes drifted to the skin stretched taut over his knuckles. He had nice hands, and it was hard to forget what they’d done to you the last time you’d been intimate. You shifted from foot to foot.

“Will it hurt?”

He looked up from examining your hand. “What? Maybe a little. Don’t worry, dove, I’ll be gentle.”

“I’ve heard that before.”

He stood so close you could see the smallest squint of his eyes, the barest of smiles. “I thought you liked it like that.”

He pulled a tiny splinter from your index finger, then another.

“This can’t possibly be safe for the frogs,” he murmured.

James stomped all the way downstairs. “For you, Sir Moony, my finest pepper-up. Bon appetit.”

He was still focused on your hands, but he managed a distracted thanks out the side of his mouth. James was pleased enough, flicking the kettle on with a wave of his wand. The kettle began to whistle obediently.

Remus must’ve managed to remove tens of splinters by the time James had made tea. Your hands felt worse for it, and your nails were still ragged and chipping. You’d have to take special care of them for weeks now. Still, anything for friendship.

Remus was discreet in taking the pepper-up potion. He looked a little better quickly, color coming back into his face.

“Rough night?” you asked.

“Just tired,” he said softly. He looked more than tired, like the energy had been stolen from him completely. You felt yourself soften, wanting to offer some comfort but not knowing how. Whatever it was that was ailing him, he could handle it. He’d done so for years now before you knew him. He was a tough dude.

Your eyebrows pinched together in sympathy despite yourself. James jostled your shoulder.

“He’s fine. Stop worrying so much, Y/N. He’ll be right as rain to knock your socks off in a few days.”

You felt your mouth open of its own accord. “I don’t care if he’s alright to fuck me, dickhead. I care how he is, he’s my friend.”

“Friend who can’t stop having sex with you at my house.”

“Technically, last time wasn’t here,” Remus piped up, stretching. “Only the seduction.”

“Brilliant,” James said. “That makes me feel much more clean.”

You wanted to say something witty, funny, impress them, but all you could think of was Remus. You blushed, putting your face in your hands. They’d be the end of you.

“You’ll be at Marlene’s this weekend?” you asked Remus, struggling with the zip on your coat with your hurting nails.

He frowned, reaching forward to do it for you. “No, I… I have some things to do.”

The way he’d hesitated, like he’d gone to say something else, gave you pause. You picked stray hairs off your skirt, trying to sound nonchalant. “That’s alright. I’ll miss you there. I mean - not that I miss you. Or that I don’t!” you panicked. “Just that it will be boring without you.”

He still looked poorly. He placed both hands on your shoulders, eyes warm. “I’ll miss you too. Next weekend?”

“Okay,” you said, voice high.

“Good,” he said. You waited for a kiss goodbye that never came, watching him walk down to the disapparation point sullenly.

“You’re in trouble,” James said.

“Tell me about it,” you murmured under your breath.

You didn’t look as nice the night of Marlene’s party as you had at other parties. You knew exactly what it meant when you couldn’t be bothered to dress up. You’d been on nail repair for days, trying to salvage them. They were shorter than before and the skin a-of your hands was still battered but you’d repainted them to a nice shiny, blushy pink to stay natural.

You wore simple beige trousers, a desaturated blue vest top with lace trim and a darker blue shirt over the top, unbuttoned. You did your hair with little care for perfection.

You’d decided to get Marlene a bottle of her favourite alcoholic drink in the end, feeling like a bad cousin.

There weren’t many familiar faces to be seen that night. Lily had stayed home with Harry, James and Sirius were similarly absent along with Remus. You entertained small talk with the Longbottom’s for an hour and then went home, unhappy with the realisation you came to.

You didn’t really seem to have many friends.

School friends weren’t the same anymore. You knew each other, but now that you didn’t see each other every day of the week, there was nothing to say.

Remus had a life, a big one, outside of you, and of course you knew that without any malicious force. But you felt sad that you didn’t have that yourself.

You called him the next morning, feeling lonely but not wanting to show it, craving his attentions.

He sounded like he’d been dragged through the wringer.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine," he said, sounding like he didn't believe it himself.

You could hear a voice in the background, manly, not familiar. You squeezed your eyes closed. You knew he had other lovers. You knew that ever since the first time. Still you hadn't expected him to answer the phone while a guy was still there.

"Are you, are you busy?"

"No, Y/N. Is something wrong?"

"No, I just wanted to hear your voice." Admitting that, knowing he wasn't alone, made you feel as though you might throw up.

You pushed the hard pretzels you'd been snacking on away, abruptly as your appetite fled you.

"Are you sure? Do you want to come over?"

"Now?" you asked, flabbergasted.

"Sure. My dad's going home soon."

Your hand flew to your mouth. You leaned your head against the wall, hitting your forehead repeatedly.

"What's that sound?"

"It's nothing. Nothing. Are you sure you're well enough for visitors?"

"Visitors," he repeated, laughing to himself. You didn't understand why. "Come over."

"Yeah, okay."

"See you soon." Click.

You rubbed the red spot on your head and a manic laugh bubbled out of you. Godric, you'd drive yourself to madness over this boy. His father of all people.

You thought about how you felt as you got dressed. It wasn't fair for you to be upset over his sex life, was it? You'd never agreed to any exclusivity. Especially when he wasn't even having sex to begin with, he was just sick. Flaring up while you gnaw yourself to the bone from envy.

You felt so guilty and embarrassed about being jealous that you had to lean over the railing by his flat and breathe through your nose until your heartbeat regulated.

It took you a long time to remember what floor he lived on and longer for him to open the door.

It was a fascinating sight. He was tired, leaning against the wall. Soft t-shirt full of holes and two day stubble.

You dropped your bag on the floor, wrapping your arms around him lightly. He hugged you back with one arm.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," you pulled away quickly. "Nothing, I'm sorry."

You encouraged him to get back into bed, and he did, although he refused to lie down. "I can sit, Y/N. I'm not that ill."

He was bleeding through his shirt. You didn't know whether to mention it. He didn't even look like he had enough energy to get hurt, so why was he?

You'd seen his naked chest. He had all types of scars, all lengths, no part of him untouched. You looked at him, thinking. Sick all the time, covered in scars like claws.

It clicked so suddenly you had to turn your head to look away from him.

Remus Lupin was a werewolf. Last night had been the full moon.

Oh, Remus, you thought. You were overpowered by the ache to hug him, but you settled for sitting by his side, throwing one leg over his. Moony, you thought. ‘It's a long story.’

"Is there anything I can do?" you asked him, staring up into his face.

He assessed your expression. "I'm alright. I promise you."

"You just look so tired," you said weakly, chuckling. You lifted a hand to push the hair from his face though you knew you shouldn't.

"I'll be okay in a few days."

"Until the next time."

"Until next time," he agreed. He took your hand into his. "I wish you'd tell me what's wrong."

"You're half bed-ridden bugging me about how I am," you laughed, squeezing his hand. "Sort out your priorities."

"I like my priorities."

“Whatever,” you mumbled, sliding down so you were flat on your back.

“Forgive me, but you seem cranky today.”

“I’m not cranky, I’m worried about you.”

Remus laid down too, hissing. He moaned when he finally came to a stop, turning his head so you were face to face. You frowned at him again. The little bleeding spot on his shirt hadn’t gotten any bigger so you left him alone on that front.

“Why’d you ask me over?” you asked, searching for a truth you didn’t actually want.

“I like your company,” he said, smirking. “Why’d you think?”

“Guess.”

“As much as I’d like to, I don’t think I could handle it. I can’t keep my eyes open,” he said lowly.

You left his bed in search of a book, intending to read aloud to cover your racing thoughts. He made a sound at your hands coming apart that he had no right to make. You picked up his roughed up cover of A Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy.

It felt like something so special, you held it like a new born baby, despite evidence that suggested he might not be so kind to it. You sat down next to him again, flicking it open to the first page. He pressed his forehead against your knee.

You didn’t start reading immediately, content to scan through his annotation. He protested. “Read out loud, dove.”

You sighed like this was a great inconvenience to you.

“Far out in the uncharted backwaters of the unfashionable end of the western spiral arm of the Galaxy lies a small unregarded yellow sun…”

As you spoke, his hand crept up so that it was resting on your ankle, then your calf. His head fell, and not too long after he was asleep. You read aloud anyways until your voice cracked and your mouth tasted funny, too worried he might wake up.

Your back ached. You didn’t dare to move in case you jostled Remus. Plus, you liked watching him sleep. He was handsome even if he looked a bit peaky.

You suddenly felt overwhelmingly sad. Remus was a werewolf, you were almost sure of it. Why else could he be so sick and so injured at the same time now that he lived alone? And the full moon couldn’t just be a coincidence, could it?

You thought back to that conversation you had at the Potter Christmas party about puppies, laughing wetly. God, he probably thought you were so stupid.

You did really want his puppies, though. In the future.

He flinched in his sleep. You brought a hand to his face to rub his hair backwards, a repetitive motion, hand soft against his skin, pleased when he stilled again.

It must be so hard to be a werewolf. Because of people, but because it was your own body working against you, stealing your choice and your mind. You never felt as sad as you did at that time, not for yourself or anyone else in the world. The pain rippled in your chest. You thought back to small Remus, always so sick, and felt immeasurably upset. It wasn’t fair.

He’d shown you a lot of kindness and made you really happy for the last few weeks, and you would admit to yourself you fancied him madly. Despite this, you thought it was the kind of thing that would still make you sad. You inhaled harshly, looking up at the ceiling to blink away tears.

When you were sure he wouldn’t wake up, you got to work. His flat was clean enough but you were going to make it shine. His clothes were organized in the way that a guy who hadn’t long ago been a teenager would so you refolded and pressed the corners. You washed every cup in the sink and scrubbed the floor down with a scouring sponge. You dusted every surface you could find.

He didn’t have a lot of food, but definitely enough for a soup. You called your mother from his telephone and had her whisper instructions on how to make something edible.

You cleaned up after yourself and set the soup to simmer on the stovetop. It was late evening by the time you’d finished, your arms aching. You didn’t let it get to you. Imagine what Remus is feeling right now, you thought. This was hardly hard work.

You climbed back into bed with him, curling in a ball so that his head was level with your sternum, like two interlocking commas, watching his chest move up and down.

You almost drifted off, hoping that when he woke up he’d feel better. He roused slowly, his movements alerting you. You pretended you hadn’t almost been sleeping yourself, and allowed him some privacy, continuing your charade by flipping the book open to a random page.

“Can you smell that?” he asked.

“What?” you whispered.

He opened his bleary eyes fully. “Did you make something?”

“Soup,” you answered, giving up on the book.

He pushed up onto an elbow. “What kind?”

“I just used what was in your freezer, mostly. Like minestrone without the pasta.”

“Hmm,” he said.

“How do you feel?”

“Less tired. Listen, you didn’t have to make anything.”

“I wanted to… if that’s okay.”

He looked adorable. “It’s okay. It’s nice. I forgot how nice you are.”

“You forgot?”

He backtracked. “I mean… in Hogwarts, you were the girl who would do anything for someone if they asked. Homework and tutoring and taking the heat. I don’t want to take advantage of your niceness.”

“I don’t remember being like that.”

“You wouldn’t, it’s second nature to you.”

You smiled affectionately at him. “You can rest easy, Remus. It’s just soup.”

“I’m talking about more than soup.”

‘’We’re friends, aren’t we? The ‘friends’ part of friends with benefits is caring about you.”

“And making me soup.”

“And making you soup, loser.”

“Don’t push it.”

You went home that night although he offered for you to stay. You had no idea if it was the right move to stay or leave so you made up a lie about seeing one of your friends. He called you the next day and the day after, both times sounding lethargic. The fourth day he sounded well enough.

You took the plunge.

“I made paella but it’s a really ridiculous amount because I don’t understand portion sizes. Do you want to come over and watch Rocky III on video?”

“Sure, Y/N.”

He looked happier when he arrived than he had in a while.

He had flowers. More than the single bloom he'd given you weeks ago, a bouquet. Ragged and windblown, but a bouquet all the same.

"It's to say thanks for organising my clothes. You folded my underwear, you weirdo."

You laughed nonsensically, bringing the flowers up to your nose. You actually knew this flower - gardenias. Big white gardenias with blue baby's breath.

"Thanks," you said breathlessly. "They're lovely."

You took one of the petals between your fingers lovingly. They felt soft as silk. When you looked up, Remus had a thoughtful look on his face.

Thankfully you'd had the good sense to clean your bedroom. You shouldered open the door, leaving him at the threshold. On your bedside table was a cup of water and the single violet rose he'd given you, still living unhappily. The cup was slightly too short for the bouquet but you didn't suppose it mattered, slotting them in. You'd only changed the water this morning so you hoped it would be fine.

You pushed the violet rose front and centre and turned to grin brilliantly at Remus.

"They're so nice. Thank you."

He ducked his head. “You’re welcome.”

“I have to heat up the paella again. Do you know how to do the VCR?”

“My mum was a muggle, so yes. I understand it just fine,” he said, smiling.

Was, he’d said. She wasn’t around anymore. Goodness, could things get anymore heartbreaking for this boy? you asked yourself.

“I watched a lot of videos when I was a kid,” he said.

“Really?” you asked, walking an inch apart.

“A lot. Like, a ridiculous amount.”

“You didn’t go out much?”

You were turned away from him, dishing out the paella into big bowls. When he didn’t answer you turned around to watch him fiddling with the tv.

“Not really,” he said eventually, as though settling for half an answer.

You nodded though he didn’t see. No, you couldn’t imagine he did.

“What was your favorite?

He hesitated. “Have you ever seen the Gnome-Mobile?”

“No,” you chuckled to yourself. “Somehow, that one escaped me.”

“I liked it very much. What was your favourite movie growing up?”

You thought about it as you pulled your wand out, casting a warming spell over your food. “I liked ‘Hello, Dolly!’”

“Hello, Rudey,” he began, not quite singing. “Well hello, Harry.”

“It’s so nice to be back home where I belong,” you sang back.

“You’re lookin’ swell, Manny.”

“I can tell, Danny.”

“You're still glowin', you're still crowin', you're still goin' strong!” you said together. He chuckled at your dramatic rendition.

“Dolly was so pretty. I was enamored with her - I wanted to be like her so badly I used to go in my mother’s room because she had one of those big stand up mirrors and I’d do all her sultry poses,” you told him, using a tea towel to carry the hot dishes into the living room.

You put them down on the coffee table. Remus had put Rocky III in the player no problem, waiting for you to come in before he pressed play on the player.

You sat cross-legged on the floor in front of one of the bowls. He followed your lead, though he didn’t cross his legs so much as you, keeping one leg straight.

“My mother loved Hello, Dolly!. She must’ve watched it a hundred times one summer,” he said quietly, with the steady voice of someone telling you something important.

You toyed with your food. Remus took a big bite. “She’s gone now?” you asked, knowing the answer.

“Last Autumn.”

“I’m sorry.”

He smiled at you earnestly. “It’s not your fault. She was sick for a long time.”

“I hope she didn’t hurt too much.”

“She didn’t.”

“What was her name?”

“Hope.”

You ate in silence for a while. You swallowed, hoping to fill the silence.

“And - and your father? What does he do?”

“He works for The Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Since I was little.”

“He must be very important.”

“He’s always busy,” he said agreeably.

The movie went on. You gave up halfway through your paella to lie down on the floor. You ignored the television to stare at Remus. He was incredibly attractive like this, languid. You watched in unbridled adoration as his eyes followed the characters, his long lashes fluttering with his moving. He was a little stiff, probably from the injury to his chest from days ago and his transformation.

“...you gotta want to do it for the right reasons. Not for the guilt over Mickey, not for the people, not for the title, not for money or me, but for you. Just you. Just you alone.”

Every time you remembered he was a werewolf you felt a little twinge of pain, though as the days wore on and you got used to the idea you just felt acceptance. You wanted to tell him you knew and that it was okay, and you didn’t care what society said because he was beautiful and kind and gentle.

“And if I lose?”

His hand was stretched out across the floor, half an inch from your own. You really thought about ignoring it, turning your eyes away and watching the film like you knew you should, but you couldn’t. You stretched your hand forward as much as you were able, nudging his fingers with your own.

“Then you lose. But at least you lose with no excuses, no fear. And I know you can live with that.”

He threaded his fingers through yours without saying a word,

“I’ve never seen the movies before this,” Remus admitted once the film drew to a close.

You gasped at him. “Remus! Why didn’t you say?”

“I didn’t think it mattered,” he laughed. You shook your head at him, stacking up your discarded plates and drinks to scrub in the sink.

“There’s a spell for that,” Remus teased.

You wrinkled your nose at him. “Have you ever eaten from a plate that’s been cleaned with magic? It’s clean, but the mind knows you haven’t washed it.”

“The mind knows,” he echoed. “Stop, stop,” he grabbed the brush from your hand, “I’ll do that.”

“Then what will I do?”

“What do you usually do after dinner?” He said, turning the hot tap on.

There was no point in standing there to watch him. You went back to the living room to square up the cushions, push the coffee table into a straight line. What did you do after dinner? Usually you got ready for bed, finding ways to waste time until you were tired or bored enough to sleep.

You abandoned the living room for your bedroom in a plight for your nail care bag. It was only a small bag. A circle shaped tin of cuticle wax, a small dropper bottle of oil and the tapered angle brush you used to apply it, your sheer red-to-pink bottom coat and clear top coat.

You used the wax first. It had been a struggle to fix your skin since the splinter’s you’d suffered at James’ garden. You tucked one leg up to lean on, rubbing and wiping the wax until your cuticles felt suitably balmed.

You painted them next. Remus walked in, eyes softening at the sight of you blowing on your nails. He sat at the end of your bed.

“You want me to do yours?” you asked him.

“I’m not sure there’s a point, they’d be ruined by tomorrow.”

You laughed. Once the pinky bottom coat had dried, you unstoppered the top coat, using your utmost concentration to neatly paint to the edges of your nails.

If Remus was bored, he didn’t complain.

“You do this a lot?” he asked you.

“My ‘perfect hands’ need a lot of attention,” you said, quoting what he’d said after your frog palace injury. The cut to your palm had scarred now, a smooth pink triangle.

“I can think of other places that require attention,” he said, sidling up to your side.

“My nails are wet!” you protested, holding them up.

“You’ll have to stay very still,” he simpered, kissing the corner of your mouth.

“Remus-“

“I know, it’ll be hard for you. I’ll make it up to you.”

You both laughed, thought you sounded more stressed out than he did. He moved to kiss you on the lips fully, achingly gentle, using his left hand to tilt your head, opening you up like a blooming flower. You could feel your pulse hammering through you.

He turned his head as though wading through water.

You felt silly doing nothing with your hands so you placed them down on the bed sheets.

He broke the kiss. “Be careful.”

It sounded more like a threat than a warning. You nodded without thinking, breathing hard.

His right hand was gripping your thigh, and as he nudged your face up to ruin your neck, it traveled higher, until your skirt was pooled against your stomach and if you could see, you knew your underwear would be exposed.

His teeth grazed your pulse point, his hand traced a line at the beginnings of your underwear. It was a monumental injustice that you could only sit there and be ravished.

You moved a hand and he pulled away. You mourned the loss of him.

“Don’t ruin your nails,” he reprimanded.

You put your hand back down obediently. He tried to keep a serious expression as he returned and failed. You could feel his smile against your skin as he kissed you.

“How long does that stuff take to dry?” he asked.

“Not long.”

“That’s too bad, I like playing with you like this.”

“I like being played with.”

He pulled back to look you in the eyes. “You do, huh, pretty baby? You like it?”

“Yes,” you said, closing your eyes in embarrassment.

“Hey, hey. Don’t be embarrassed. A pretty girl like you should always say what she wants, and a guy like me should always give it to her.”

You loved when Remus spoke like this. It was so different from his polite, gentlemanly demeanour otherwise. You felt like you were in on some private secret.

He held your face in his hands, your own pressed into the mattress. He encouraged you backwards, towering over you to bring one knee between your legs.

“You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen,” he said.

You opened your eyes, saying in a voice barely loud enough to be heard. “Don’t say stuff like that if you don’t mean it.”

“I do mean it. Y/N,“ - his hands moved to your hair, pushing it all back from your face - “I’m not teasing you. You’re ethereal, understand?”

You swallowed, nodded.

“An angel,” he said. “Not just because we’re like this. Not because I want to fuck you.”

“But you will, won’t you?” you implored, pressing one of your fingertips atop the other. Your nails were dry.

“I’d do anything you asked me to,” he said.

You covered one of his hands with your own and smiled so wide it made your eyes squint shut. He kissed the edges of it, the the middle, kissing you so deeply you forgot to breathe. His knee inched up, up until you were whimpering in his mouth.

“You like that?”

You moved your hips down on him in answer. His hand came up under the edge of your shirt. He pushed his thumb deep into your skin, rubbing a half circle there. The simple motion stole your breath, made you feel more safe than anything else. Even when he wanted you he was tactile, loving even when he was rough.

He pushed his hand past the elastic of your underwear. His touch was so soft it tickled. You jumped under his touch. He smirked to himself at the wetness he found there.

“Oh, you’re done for.” He climbed off of you, pulling your skirt down as he went. You pulled your shirt over your head with your elbow and he helped pull it from your hair.

He leaned forward as if to start again and you stopped him. “I’m always the first to be naked,” you reached out, fingers at the bottom of his shirt. He let you pull it off without argument, though he was seemingly nervous at the sight of his own chest. You pressed your hand flat, touch light, against his chest, against scars.

He pulled his trousers off and then there you were, two idiots in underwear and socks, grinning at each other.

He pulled your socks off, kissing your ankle, your calf. He kissed the side of your knee and your thigh, and then he kissed your dampening underwear, right at the centre of you. You went a little dizzy with lust, barely processing that he was pulling your smalls off too.

You reached back to unclip your bra, exposing your chest. He licked your nipple and you held your breath. He blew cold air on you, laughing when your nipple peaked. He gave the other the same treatment, though this time he took you in his mouth to roll the bud between his teeth.

It sent butterflies straight to your abdomen and crotch. You pushed the hair out his eyes.

Pleased at his treatment he set you free with a lewd pop.

You sat up, intent on kissing him silly again before he could protest. He pulled you to him where he kneeled, wrapping his arms around your back. You folded your own arms around his neck, pleased at being higher up than he was.

You could feel the shape of him through his boxers pressed against your core. He rocked his hips, spreading slick everywhere. You broke the kiss to pant into the side of his neck, distracted by his moving. He lowered one hand, probing the soft skin of your cunt. He started with one finger although it quickly progressed to two as you were already relaxed from his wet-nails game.

His hand cupped the bottom of your arse. Each time he entered you the surface of his palm would hit your skin, causing a riot of goosebumps to spread up your back and thighs. He noticed.

“Cold?”

“No.”

He pulled his boxers down to his knees. You buck against him, too eager. Your legs were squeezing tight around his thighs, trying your hardest not to grind down on him. He let you do as you pleased, arms returning to your back, positioning you just so.

You whined, certainly not above begging if need be. Remus thrust up in response. You felt yourself tighten around the head of his dick, mewling at the ecstasy of him spreading you open on top of him.

You bounced on him, using his shoulders to push yourself up and let yourself drop back down. He enjoyed this, making sounds in your ears that felt like they’d put you in an early grave. You dropped down so harshly you hurt yourself, freezing in his lap.

He froze too at your pained gasp. “Okay?”

“Yeah,” you said, eyes watering. “Too fast.”

“Here,” he said, pulling out. He pushed you back, back flat on the bed once again. “Want to stop?”

“No,” you shook your head vehemently. “It’s fine.”

“Are you sure, dove?”

“I’m sure, I swear it.”

He used the pad of his thumb to sweep circles on your aching clit. You can see his dick twitching at your panting breaths, gulping air to fight the sensation that was building.

You pushed your hips down, leaking cunt inching towards his dick. He braced himself on your hips and took it slow, spreading you open, laughing when your slick dribbled out. He was cautious, taking slow and shallow thrusts that had you sweating and begging him to move.

“I don’t want to hurt you again.”

“You didn’t hurt me, I hurt me. Please, go faster. Please,” the last please spurred him on, pleading as it was.

“Silly girl, this is why I tell you to stay still.”

“That’s ‘cos you like watching me squirm.”

He was refusing to bottom out, his thrusts quick, steady. Where he held himself above you, you watched his face contort in pleasure, his mouth opening as he rutted into you. You hooked your leg around his, arching your back in hopes of him fucking you deeper.

He took the hint, though he said, “tell me if I hurt you.”

“Doesn’t hurt,” you gasped out, hand gripping his arms so hard you worried you’d give him indentations from your fingernails. He stole your hand from his arm, the other from your side and held them high above your head, pressing them into the pillow. He rolled his hips forward in a deep thrust that hit the right spot.

“You like that? All fucked out like this, you’re fucking unbelievable. Unreal,” he said, voice silky smooth, his pelvis hitting you with enough force that the air rushed out of you.

“I like it,” you practically babbled.

“I know you do, baby.”

He used his free hand to abuse your clit, rough tight circles that brought tears to your eyes. You blinked them away, letting your legs fall to the side as you realised your climax was fast approaching, your abdomen on fire with the wind up.

It felt as though you were reforming around him, melding to the shape of him, and you didn't mind one bit.

You should have probably told him before it happened but it came on so fast, you couldn’t find the will to take in a breath. It ripped from you, and with it, you whimpered, “Oh, fuck.”

Your cunt contracted around him involuntarily, meaning that every thrust he took felt as though it was spearing you apart. You couldn’t form thoughts, though your mouth ran free.

“Your mother should’ve washed your mouth out,” he chastened, still working circles.

Your hands were indisposed, held up, your mouth unable to say what you were thinking, the second orgasm already beginning to dawn. You curled your hands into fists in his grasp.

You were almost limp beneath him, occasionally able to fuck your hips against him. Your legs were shaking, Remus’ thrust getting sloppier. You felt useless beneath him.

“Please, Remus,” you asked, eyes half-lidded.

“Please what?”

“Please, will you cum in me?” you begged.

“You want me to fill you up? Fill you up with puppies?” He joked under his breath. You giggled with tears in your eyes as his hips stuttered against you.

“Please, please. I want it. I want it.”

“Fill you up with my baby, huh?”

You came as soon as he said it, the sound that escaped you almost panicked at the intensity of it, like you were trying to prevent it from happening - the force of it took you by surprise.

He was tired, you could tell, hair sweaty and sticking to his forehead. You tugged your hands free to pull his head down to your level and kiss his lips. He rested his forehead against yours.

“Please cum in me. Please,” you said.

He groaned, rutting into you until you were sopping full of his cum. He immediately deflated, collapsing into your chest. You brought your hands up to card through the hair at the back of his head, giggling at the feeling of his dick still inside you.

You felt as though one wrong move would send you over the edge, both of you catching your breath.

“You were more tired than I thought,” you said quietly.

“You come to my house looking like an angel when I can’t do anything about it and thought I wasn’t gonna fuck you as soon as I could? Grow up a bit, I beg,” he said.

“Someone’s cranky,” you said, teasingly moving your hips around him. He hissed.

“I would’ve given you head, just say the word.”

He tightened his arms around your waist. You liked the weight of him on top of you.

“As generous an offer as that is, your cunt is addictive. And your face. And the sounds you make,” he said, rolling off of you. You missed his warmth immediately, though you enjoyed the feeling of his dick pulling free, all the cum he’d fucked into you dripping out.

You brought your knees up to reach down and push a finger inside yourself, pushing the cum out and onto your bedsheets. They were a lost cause anyway at this point.

Curious and feeling lewd, you brought your fingers to your mouth and licked them inquisitively.

Remus brought a pillow over his face and groaned.

You reached out tentatively, pumping a hand up and down his slick shaft. He hardened slowly under your touch, abandoning the pillow over his face to watch you.

You leaned on your side to kiss the skin of his stomach. He brought a shaky hand up to tangle in your hair.

You worked his shaft like all the sex-positive magazines said to, up and down and right to left, delighting in the precum you worked out of the tip. His hips bucked up into your hand.

"Stay still," you said, mocking him. You got up onto one elbow, kissing the tip of his dick, spreading his precum on your lips to tease him. He whined, unable to stop himself when you opened your mouth form guiding your head down onto him. He did half the work for you, using your hair to encourage you up and down his shaft.

You felt the dribble from being unable to close your mouth dripping down your lips onto him, rivulets of spit pooling at the base of him. You used your other hand to take care of the bottom, using your spit as lube.

You must've done something he liked as he started bucking up into your throat. You gagged around him, coming up for air. He used his second hand to wipe the spit from your face.

"Pretty baby, so pretty," he murmured.

"Yeah?" you said, eyes wide, head of his dick bobbing against your lips. You let him fuck your mouth like that, not overly rough but enough to bring tears to your eyes, almost reaching the back of your throat. You coughed, spitting dribble down yourself, feeling it run down your neck and bridge sticky lines from your breasts to his sides.

You licked the bottom of his dick, kissing and slurping up the mess you were both contributing to, using your thumb to wipe little circles on the head of him. When you pulled away his dick had left a wet stripe up your face.

He was close, bucking and writhing with every move you made. You pulled his dick towards your face, increasing the speed of your palming until he moaned like a fire was lit beneath him, crying your name.

You tried to catch his cum on your face unsuccessfully, ending up with white in your eyelashes. He cooed, wiping it away with his thumbs.

"I'm sorry, dove. Come here," he said. You pushed up and he hooked under your armpits, pulling you up towards his chest. He used the bottom of his palm to wipe the cum from your face.

"It looked cute though, right?"

"More than cute," he said. He kissed your nose. "Where are you learning these tricks?"

"You can thank Cosmopolitan for that one."

"Evil intrepid magazine."

"You liked it," you teased, lying on his chest so that you were looking up at him, almost cradled in his arms.

He pushed the hair from your face with the back of his finger in a motion that made your heart skip a beat. It was almost more intimate than any moment before.

He leaned down slowly, almost hesitating, using his nose to nudge yours. You tilted your head up obediently. With greater access now, he kissed you. Small kisses, open mouthed. Your hand traveled up his neck to rest at his jawline where you could feel the stubble coming in.

Eventually you were both too tired to keep kissing. You would've let him kiss you for days as long as he wanted to, but he really was tired from the full moon, you guessed, as he look half asleep.

You moved off of his chest to go find a wet towel. You came back in to find him where he was, almost dozing. You wiped all your body fluids off of him and pulled his boxers back up for him. You moved onto yourself, wiping down your legs and everywhere else that was covered in spit and wet and cum. Then you pulled his shirt on, a selfish, longing thing you absolutely didn't need to do. You didn't bother with underwear, knowing your sheets were soiled at this point and the underwear were damp anyways.

You pulled the blankets from under him, pulling them over both of you. You felt weak and knew as soon as you closed your eyes you'd drift off. Remus was already gone, but when you laid a hand softly on his chest, he pulled you close.

Someone was knocking on the door. You flinched awake, tripping over the duvet and yourself to find some bottoms. You got some clean underwear from your drawer, intending to answer the door whilst standing fully behind it.

You made your way down the hallway as the knocking increased.

You'd barely cracked the door open when Sirius burst in.

"McKinnon!" he said cheerily. "Sorry to bother you but dear old Remus has places to be today."

You shied away from him, knowing you smelled like sweat and sex and looked like both those things too. You could feel the mascara you'd forgotten to take off in the corners of your eyes.

"How'd you know he was here?"

"How did I know?" he laughed maniacally to himself. "'Oh, Pads, Y/N's asked me over. What do I wear? Do I get flowers?'" -he threw the back of his arm against his forehead dramatically- "'She's just so lovely isn't she, Pads?' Not that you aren't or anything Y/N, but it gets a bit long in the tooth when Mister Farmer’s Market won't stop pretending he doesn't fancy me."

You had to speed walk to keep up with him. He was almost to your bedroom door. He was cracking it open with force.

Remus blinked awake blearily. You grimaced at him in apology.

"Fuck off, Pads," he sighed, throwing his head back.

"We have things to do!"

"Like what?" you asked, pulling the edges of Remus' shirt to cover your bare legs.

"Motorcycle shopping," Remus groaned.

"Motorcycle shopping!" Sirius said simultaneously, beaming.

You blinked at them.

"This couldn't wait till afternoon?"

"Or tomorrow?" Remus asked.

"Time waits for no one, McKinnon. Not even you."

"Get out then, you prat," Remus said.

"Someone's cranky they won't get their morning turn."

Remus chucked a pillow at him.

You laughed, keeping to the edge of the room as Sirius left. You could hear him barging around your kitchen.

Remus made a sound of bone-deep tiredness, stretching. If your mouth wasn't dry before, it was now. You sat on the edge of the bed, watching Remus search the floor for his clothes.

He looked puzzled at his missing shirt. You cleared your throat.

"You want it back?"

He took your head in his hands, looking down at you with infinite softness. "Any other time, I'd say no."

You pulled it off, sitting there in only your underwear. He put the shirt on and kissed your cheek as a thank you. Then he rifled through your wardrobe to find a replacement shirt for you.

"Here, dove."

You smiled to yourself and put it on. You skipped out on your skirt for a tight pair of trousers that flared out slightly at the bottoms that you knew made your legs look good.

Remus waited for you to finish before he made for the kitchen, even pulling your chair out for you. There was no performance to any of his kindness, he just did it.

Sirius was helping himself to a cup of tea.

"Don't look so sullen, Y/N," he reprimanded. "I made some for you too."

"My hero," you said dryly.

He smiled.

"I thought you already had a motorbike?" you asked.

"He does," Remus said morosely. "It's magical."

"It's broken," Sirius corrected. "I had a problem with a telephone pole. The bodywork is fucked, so it's a write off at this point."

You nodded like you understood, accepting a cup of tea from Sirius. It wasn't quite right, but you appreciated the sentiment.

Now that you were sitting you could feel the subtle ache between your legs. You moved a hand to your lower abdomen and massaged the flesh there.

Remus was slumped forward, using his arm to keep himself upward. He hissed when he moved too fast.

"What the fuck, you two? Did you beat each other up last night?"

"I was still tired from th- being ill." Remus coughed.

"Not that tired, evidently. Y/N's got a wobble on."

You cringed at his wording, massaging the bridge of your nose. "Sirius, can we not talk about this?"

"If you're horrified, imagine how I feel," Sirius laughed like this was all good fun. He widened his eyes at you pointedly.

"I don't know what you mean," you said tiredly.

"Remember what happened with Perkins? I can do worse."

"No, you can't," Remus said.

"I don't want you jinxing Remus because my legs hurt," you laughed.

"I should be hexing you, poor Moony looks half-dead."

"Blame Cosmopolitan magazine," you said offhandedly.

Remus left to go motorbike shopping, though you weren't sure what he knew about motorbikes. Maybe because his mother was a muggle he could help with the transaction side of things. Still, you didn't get it.

You almost asked to go with them and decided against it. That was a girlfriend thing to do, and you weren't his girlfriend.

He called you later in the evening to ask how you were feeling. You strongly avoided the urge to ask him to come back over that same night although you really, really wanted him to.

This is why when he asked if you wanted to come over the next day you couldn't get over yourself. Your ego ballooned, thinking you must have some amazing sultry presence for him to want to see you twice in one weekend.

You didn't bother looking too nice. Honestly, you didn't truly have the energy for it. You showered and cleaned yourself to an immaculate standard and blow dried your hair without styling it, using a miniscule amount of make-up (mascara, some concealer).

You worried a little outside his door whether that was the right thing to do. You were wearing a midi skirt and an old band t-shirt with an asymmetrical crop to it, just enough to show your midriff if you raised your arms. You hardly looked presentable.

Remus loved telling you how pretty you looked but most every time you saw him you were dressed up to the nines, even if it was supposed to look "natural", it was likely you were highly polished.

It was too late now. You knocked on his door quick, three light raps.

"Let yourself in, Y/N!"

That was always a good sign. You pushed into the flat, greeted by the smell of pesto and something heavier.

You'd brought him a daisy you'd seen while walking. It was suffocated by your nervous hands. You shrugged off your jacket and bag, leaving them by the shoe rack at the door to find Remus in the kitchen, pulling a tray from the oven with a tea towel.

There was a frying pan bubbling away on the stove. That was the source of the wonderful smell.

Remus was cooking for you.

You pushed your hair back with your hand hoping it fell nicely around your face, straightening your shirt. The sandals you wore felt even sillier.

Remus didn't look especially fancy, thankfully, wearing jogging bottoms and a navy short sleeve shirt with ‘made in 1960’ printed across the front.

He turned to you fully. "I made pasta."

"I can see that," you said. You both grinned unbridled at each other. "It smells amazing," you said.

"You want to try it?"

"Sure!" you took the spoon he offered out of his hand, gathering a nice spoonful of sauce and pasta. You blew on it, the steam coming off of it hotly.

"This is so nice," you complimented, almost shocked. "Where'd you learn to make this?"

"Cosmo," he joked.

You put the spoon down on the counter, craning your neck to look him in the face from standing so close. "Someone told me that's a great magazine."

"It's definitely up there. Along with Mizz and Teen Vogue."

"What girl's been whispering women's magazines in your ear?"

"No one," he said, unexpectedly earnest. "There's nobody but you."

You blushed, didn't know what to do with your hands. If he was telling the truth, that was exactly what you wanted to hear.

"Well, nobody else is making me pasta," you said, hoping he inferred what you meant.

His eyes softened at the edges, so you thought he did. He turned off the burners, pouring the pasta into two bowls. He gave you the bigger portion.

He wouldn't let you see what movie he'd put in the VCR player.

You watched in anticipation, legs tucked under you on the floor in front of his coffee table. He sat right next to you so that you could both have an optimal view of his TV, laughing out of his mind when you realised he'd found the Gnome-Mobile.

"This is awful," you said, almost dropping pasta down your shirt.

"This is a classic. Be respectful."

You ate every bite of your pasta, holding your bloated stomach in regret. Remus ate your leftover garlic bread, letting you lean on him in sympathy.

"That was a terrible mistake," you moaned into his shoulder.

He rubbed your arms compassionately. "You'll be okay, give it an hour."

Gnome-Mobile was one of the worst things you'd ever had the misfortune of watching. When it finished you celebrated, remembered how sickeningly full you were, and promptly groaned, holding your stomach.

Remus fussed.

"It's my own fault," you laughed at him.

"I still feel bad."

"Worth it," you muttered to yourself. He made a great bowl of pasta.

"I think we might be boring young adults," he said, leaning against the seat of the sofa. You blew hair off your face.

"Why'd you say that?"

"Well, people our age are out partying or something. What are we doing?"

"Watching world beloved cult classic Gnome-Mobile?"

He pushed the arm that was between you both back onto the sofa, clasping his own hands. "I should've taken you out somewhere."

"What? Remus, I'm having a great time."

"Yeah?"

"Yes."

You squeezed his bicep. "Now, where's your cassette collection? I wanna see what you like."

Remus took you on a tour of all his favourite songs, stretched out on his bed to stare at his ceiling together. He had some classics and the a bunch of stuff you'd never heard.

You bobbed your head to KISS, singing the words passionately.

"Cos girl you were made for me…" you warbled.

"And girl I was made for you," Remus mouthed along. It was a funny time for your eyes to meet.

You didn't have it in you to sing the powerful chorus, choosing to laugh dizzyingly at his ceiling. Your eyes drifted to the posters on his wall, the trinkets on his desk. You suddenly remembered your own bedroom back home, your bouquet of flowers he'd given you.

"Oh, Remus! I have something for you. Stay here."

You had to climb over him to get off the bed. You collected your little unimpressive daisy from where you'd left it in the kitchen, forgotten by his fridge.

"Here," you said, crossing the threshold into his room.

"It's a daisy," Remus said. "Obviously. I don't know why I said that."

He stared at it for long enough you started to question if it was a bad idea.

"You know, daisy's have their own meaning," he said.

You quirked your eyebrows at him. "What do they mean?"

"White daisies symbolise hope and new beginnings."

"Yeah? What do the other colours mean?" you asked him, crawling back over his lap to sit next to him.

"Yellow daisies are for friendship. Pink daisies are for when you fancy someone, for gentleness. And red daisies are for passion."

"That's so cute," you said. He sat up and twisted the stem in his hand until the daisy blurred into a white circle.

When the daisy stopped turning, it was pink. You pursed your lips in confusion, failing to notice the wand in Remus' hand until he set it aside.

He offered it to you. "For you."

"You turned it pink," you said uselessly.

"I turned it pink."

"You fancy me?" you asked, struggling to get the words out.

"I do."

Tears welled in your eyes. You sniffled, holding the pink daisy in your hand like a precious gemstone. A mass of feelings came up to the surface. Remus fancied you. Remus didn't just want to have sex with you, he fancied you. Somebody, Remus, wanted you.

"Oh, Y/N, don't cry. I'm sorry, I don't want to upset you. Look, I know I'm not-"

"So I get to be your girlfriend?" you asked, pinning him with your gaze.

"What? You're not upset?"

You laughed wetly. "I like you too, Remus. A lot."

He pulled your free hand into his lap to hold. "Why are you crying?"

You wiped your eyes, daisy in hand. "I didn't think anyone liked me."

"I more than like you."

You grinned at him beatifically. "I can't believe it." He looked unhappy. You held your breath. "What?"

"I have something to tell you. Something important."

You nodded.

"And I understand if you don't want to see me anymore after, or if you hate me. But please, don't tell."

Your face crumpled in sympathy. "I already know, Remus," you said softly.

"That I-..."

You nodded.

"Who told you?"

"Nobody… I just worked it out."

"How long have you known?"

"The day I made you soup."

"That was pity soup?"

You spluttered. "No! That was I care about you soup. You're always tired and you were bleeding and, you know. When I thought about it, it made sense."

"Just so we're on the same page, you realise I'm-"

"You're a werewolf, Remus. I know," you finished for him.

"You don't care?"

You frowned. "Of course I don't." You flexed your fingers in his hand.

"It's okay if you do, Y/N. It's a scary thing."

You shook your head. "You'd never hurt me. Unless I asked you to."

He grinned, his face plastered in such obvious relief that it made your heart hurt. He deserved to always be accepted for who he was, and it was obvious that wasn't always the case.

"So, you're my boyfriend now?" you questioned.

"I'm your boyfriend," he said.

"Oh my god," you covered your face with your hands, smiling so hard you thought your face would split.

"I mean," his hand inched up your back. "Is it so surprising that I fancy you? I can't stop touching you, dove."

"I thought you were like that with everyone."

"No. Just you."

You weaved your arms around his shoulders. "Could you tell I fancy you?"

"A bit."

You flamed, pushing your blushing face into his hair.

"You did clean my entire flat."

You whimpered.

"And you dressed up so nice for me at the Leaky Cauldron, of all places."

You were dying of embarrassment, probably. You bit your lip.

"You're not so innocent yourself. How was I supposed to not fancy you? You made me look in two different mirrors to tell me how pretty I looked and then you bought me flowers."

"The whole point was to get you to fancy me, dolt."

"I thought you were this sweet on all your casual hookups."

"You're the only 'casual hookup' I've kissed fifty times every time I saw them."

You felt immeasurably pleased.

"You haven't kissed me once tonight."

He moved his hands from your waist to your face. "I've been preoccupied," he leaned in close. You shut your eyes. "Let me make it up to you," he whispered.

He kissed you. The rush of warmth that ran through you was palpable, intoxicating. He overwhelmed your senses, smelling like something soft and heady. The feeling of his hand running up and down your arm was enough to make you smile into the kiss. He smiled back, letting you push him down into the headboard behind him.

You let your hand travel down his torso to grasp the lean muscle under his shirt. Your hand teased the hem of his shirt, slipping underneath the fabric to trace a line up to his sternum. You trailed back down with the softest touch you could manage, relishing his shivers beneath you.

You broke the kiss, anticipating the changing in his ability to breath as you pushed your hand over the bulge of his dick in his trousers. You palmed him through the fabric, turning your gaze to the movements of your own hand.

He pulled your face towards him. "You're so fucking pretty."

You turned your face to peck his hand. "I look like shit."

"You're fucking perfect," he said firmly. "Perfect girl."

"You give me far too many compliments."

"I give you far too little," he denied.

He rose up to kiss you again. You drew a line at his waistband with your fingernail.

"Stop tickling me or I'm gonna tickle you back," he warned, holding your face in place so he could kiss you.

You didn't heed his warning, scratching lightly until he was shying away from your touch.

"We're finished," he said solemnly, snaking his hand under the fabric of your skirt. He used the pads of his fingers to tickle the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, zigzagging till he was a millimetre from your underwear. He teased the edge, running his fingers under the elastic.

Fine, you thought. If he wants to play dirty, I'll play dirty.

You let your hand dip under his waistband, keeping the lightest of touches, smoothing the flat of your hand against him lovingly.

You tried your best to stay on task, delighted at his hardening dick from your attentions, but Remus was making it increasingly difficult. He'd abandoned any pretense of tickling you and was instead using his long fingers to rub lines from your clit to your entrance, dipping in half an inch before travelling back up. It was maddening.

You'd given up on kissing for now as you were too busy concentrating. He dotted kissed down the curve of your neck to bite and suck your shoulder.

You pulled his dick free from the constraints of his underwear, enthused by the little dribble of precum that smattered the skin of your fingers.

Remus rested his forehead on your shoulder, panting. "I'm supposed to be winning."

"You definitely aren't," you told him, pumping his shaft much too smugly. "I like you like this, all needy."

"I've actually had enough of you," he said, laughing. You laughed too.

He grabbed the hand that you were using to touch him and pulled it away, shoving you enough that you got the idea to let yourself fall flat.

He pulled your skirt free to make it easier. You felt your eyebrows go up at the centre when he started pulling the pillows from under you.

"Lift your hips, pretty girl."

You did as he asked and he pushed the pillows beneath you so that your hips, cunt and upper thighs were elevated.

Godric, this was the trouble you'd feared. He pulled you underwear down next. You blushed at the wet string of slick that banded between your cunt and your underwear. Remus smiled smugly, tossing them gently next to your skirt on the ground.

"I'll ruin your pillows."

"Sacrifices," he said mournfully, leaning down to plant an open mouthed kiss on your clit. You gasped, fishing the sheets underneath you in one hand. When he didn't stop you covered your eyes with the back of your arm, keening.

"I knew you'd like that," he chuckled.

He fingered your cunt, licking hot wet stripes up the centre of you. When that wasn't enough, he located the bundle of nerves that was your clit with his tongue and manipulated it until you were a quivering mess underneath him.

"Remus…"

"What, baby?"

You only whimpered. Your brain felt like it was short-ciruciting, your whole body heaved.

You didn't trust yourself to put your hand in his hair, too afraid you'd rip strands from his scalp. He was doing a fine job without your assistance either way. The heat built up in the pit of your tummy, rising and rising til you were whining for him to slow down.

He listened. It did little to slow the oncoming climax. You came hard, cunt clenching down on his fingers. He pulled back, admiring the obvious contractions you were experiencing.

"Good girl," he praised. "My perfect girl. Ready to take all of me?"

"Yes," you said, voice wracked with tremors. "Yes, please."

He lined up, rubbing the head against your aching cunt with enough pressure to make you protest.

"Sorry, baby. I'll stop teasing," he murmured, spreading the flat of his hand on your abdomen. He pushed in, the elevated position of your cunt already making you feel spread open.

He took handfuls of your hips, the soft flesh there molding under his hands. He reared forward, fucking you so deeply you cried out in response.

"Yeah?" he said.

He pulled out, fucked in again. You were putty in his hands, limp under his touch. The stretching feeling was suddenly so pleasurable you reached down your hand to wrap around his forearm.

"Perfect girl with a perfect cunt," he said, driving forward again. You half-sobbed.

Where he shifted on his knees you could feel the mattress move under your back, feel it bounce back with each thrust.

He slowed down to a crawl, amused at your complaining. You moved your hips down, following his thrusts, chasing his dick.

"So fucking hot."

"Fuck me properly, jerk."

"Properly?" His hips snapped forward, his pelvis digging into you clit, sending sparks through you. "Is this proper enough for you, dove?"

He was unrepentant, fucking you so that each thrust drove you deep into the mattress. "Okay?" he asked, bringing his hand down to the bead of your clit, catching it between two fingers.

"Yessss," you said, voice high.

"Tell me if it's too much."

"It's not," you said weakly. "Fucking me so good," you praised.

He brought your hand up to his mouth to kiss your fingertips. He pushed deep inside you and stayed there, making circles with his hips that drove mewling cries from you that you'd be embarassed about in the morning.

"Ah, you're so deep in me," you babbled. "So deep."

"Just fucking made for me, weren't you sweetness?"

He bottomed out again, driving you to madness. Your eyes closed of their own accord. Every thrust was enough now, accompanied by a little sound in the back of your throat that wouldn't stop.

Remus liked it, fucking you hard and fast if only to listen to the sounds you made.

"Made for you," you echoed, gripping so tightly your knuckles went white.

"Yes, you were," he said.

He sped up, pulling your hips with surprising strength to meet his thrusts. You circled your clit, so wet it was difficult to find purchase.

He drove forward with one last great thrust, hitting you square in the sweet spot inside you, pumping cum into you like you hadn't felt before, gasping at the sensation. He replaced your finger with two of his own, replacing preciseness with speed. You felt your heart stop, able to utter a single "oh god," before you came so hard your vision whited out.

You let your hips fall backwards off the pillows, aching in a familiar, comfortable way. You pulled on Remus' arm, forcing him to lie down beside you.

"Is this a good time to mention we'll definitely have cute kids?" he asked, holding your joined hands against his beating heart.

"Well, we've had a fair share of practice runs," you said, still breathless.

You both laughed.

"So what?" James asked, wearing his stupid florescent hard hat. You were cross-legged in front of the frog Palace, tasked with caulking the tiny windows with your pinky finger. "He's your boyfriend now?"

"Yep," you said, beaming.

James smirked at you. "Get me a nappie and you could call me cupid."

"Yeah, whatever," Sirius grumbled, also wearing a stupid hard hat. A frog perched on the brim, peering at you threateningly. "I hate happy couples."

"Farmer's Market boy wasn't cool enough for you anyways," Remus said, returning from his brief intermission to the kitchen. He balanced a tray of drinks in his hand.

"Harry agrees," Lily said, baby Harry gurgling happily in his hands. He had a smaller hard hat and a frog in his tiny grasp.

You cooed at Harry's delight. "I expect at least 12 frogs for my baby," you said to Sirius.

"Our baby," Remus corrected gently.

Sirius groaned in agony. "Fuck me."

my masterlist <3

tag club :3

marauders tag list @marimorena06 @glimmering-darling-dolly

baby fever taglist @rosaliedepp @kissmeunicornbaobei @w0nt0b3y @buckyjbarneswhore @j-cat @justingnoreme

note: thanks for reading, thanks for everyone who requested this and thank you to the tag club! if you want to be added or removed or i forgot you let me know !

3K notes · View notes

celluifleur · 6 days

Text

baby fever, part 2 [remus lupin x reader]

”You see yourself?" he asked. "Take it in. Anyone who wouldn't want to kiss you silly must be blind.

"And," he said, pressing his lips to the sweet spot at the juncture of your neck. "I've heard what you sound like getting fucked. So you'll have to forgive my enthusiasm."

tags: smut, marauders era, nsft, friends with benefits (with feelings), fem!reader, she/her pronouns used for reader, they fuck in a bathroom is that like a specific warning (among other places) [9.8k

note: this comes with a huge huge huge thank you to everyone who read baby fever and who requested this second part. so thank you!

chapter list

You tucked your number, scrawled hastily on the back of a receipt for chapstick and blister plasters from the pharmacist, in Remus' front pocket and prayed to god he might call you.

Not just because he was, as James Potter testified, good in bed, but because he was interesting and handsome and he seemed to like you. Some days you were sure the latter was enough to make you like anyone.

Plus, he was a Marauder. Sure, that was a school thing, years ago now, but it didn't take away from how that made you feel. You'd slept with a marauder! If the girls at school could see you now they wouldn't believe it.

It was possibly a silly thing to feel smug about, as being a marauder was hardly the most interesting thing about Remus. You thought back to your school days, bursting full of life and busyness and fun, and how the marauders had felt like a club nobody could get in.

That's what always puzzled you about Lily Potter. She was a good friend, you just couldn't understand how she could have James Potter chase after her for years and not bat an eyelash. If one of the marauders had been trying it on with you in school, you would've fell into his arms no questions asked. Perhaps you'd think love of anyone who chased you.

Besides Xenophilius and his odd gifts and letters you construed as friendliness, you weren't sure you could remember a time when a guy actively chased you and made you feel wanted. You'd always been the one gathering courage to confess, never getting confessed to.

Well, Remus hadn't confessed, but he'd fucked you. He must like you a little.

The idea of someone being attracted to you was dizzying by itself. Remus bloody Lupin had flirted with you, seduced you, kissed you like you were the only girl on earth.

Days passed. The reality that you were not the only girl on earth set in. You began to overthink - what if it had been nothing special to him? Maybe you were a bad fuck, did something annoying. Perhaps he'd simply been in the mood and you'd been there.

Remus wasn't like that, you told yourself. He probably just viewed the whole thing as something casual. And it was. You hadn't declared your love for each other! You hadn't really fancied him until you realised you could.

You were friends, you'd had sex. Maybe that was enough for him.

You were okay with that and although you'd foolishly convinced yourself it might be the start of something fun, it was definitely okay for him to move on with his life.

But a telephone call would be nice.

You were splayed out on your sofa, freshly showered in a camisole and no pants, when there was a knock on the door.

You sighed. You were half way through a clementine, manuscript pages waiting to be (roughly) copyedited scattering the sofa and your lap and the floor. It was hardly a convenient time for Poppy to come see you.

"Yeah!" you called, clambering to your feet. "Two seconds!'

Your hands were sticky with pith and you could feel clementine juice at the corners of your mouth. You opened the door without looking, standing back so that poppy could come in.

"I thought you wouldn't be around till tomorrow," you said, wiping your mouth with the side of your hand.

"Expecting someone else?"

You froze.

Remus grinned at you, though he was quickly discouraged by a new thin scar close to his mouth.

"Ah," you chuckled weekly. "Two more seconds?"

You half shut the door so that he couldn't see your half nakedness anymore, scrambling to find something suitable on your coat rack. The best thing there was a worn, brown zip up jacket. It would have to do, covering your mid thigh.

You opened the door again.

"I'm so sorry," you said, grimacing apologetically. "I thought you were Poppy."

"Don't be! Please, I showed up unannounced. It's my fault."

You shook your head in disagreement. "Come in, please."

He did. You lead him down the hall and into your sitting room, messy as you left it. He glanced around politely as if it were squeaky clean.

You rushed to clear off somewhere he could sit, muddling up the loose manuscript pages in a way that would take ages to sort through later. You suddenly remembered your state of undress and how you'd just likely exposed your underwear to Remus for the second time in as many minutes, bolting upwards so quickly your neck clicked.

"Tea?" you asked, flushing. You made for the kitchen before he could say yes.

Your hands were shaking with embarrassment. The cups clicked together when you took them down and you giggled madly to yourself.

Remus was here, in your flat. You didn't let yourself guess why, too afraid of raising your own hopes up.

You could barely hear anything over the sound of the whining kettle and your own heartbeat in your ears. A warm hand on your arm was enough to startle you, flinching round.

"Remus! Sorry. I'm sorry, I didn't hear you come through."

He gifted you an easy-going smile. "You want help?"

He took the mugs out of your hands. You hadn't realised you were still holding them. You kicked yourself, wondering if there was a third way you could embarrass yourself today.

He made making tea look like an art.

"I'm sorry I didn't call. I actually came because I lost your number, and I thought showing up might look a bit more genuine."

"Oh! Oh, that's okay. You didn't have to come here, or even phone me. I don't expect anything from you," you said, trying your best to push niceness and nonchalance into your tone.

He offered your mug to you. You spooned two teaspoons of sugar inside.

"I wanted to phone you."

You bit back a smile.

"I would've come before, but uh - I was a bit ill."

"Are you alright?" you asked in concern.

"I'm fine," he assured you, sipping his tea. "I just didn't want you to think I didn't want to see you again."

"You want to see me again?"

He raised his eyebrows, "I'm seeing you right now."

"I'm sorry about the mess," you said suddenly, nervous now that he was definitely flirting again.

"You should see my place," he said. You laughed.

You were extremely aware of your legs on show and how silly you probably looked with your dirty white ankle socks and your girl boxers, your half dry hair and your rumpled jacket.

He didn't seem to notice any of this. He looked tired today, like he hadn't seen the sun for a few days, dark circles under his eyes. His sandy brown hair was ruffled every which way, his t-shirt, slate grey with short sleeves, had a hole near the neckline.

"You look tired," you said, hoping you didn't sound rude. "You want to sit down?"

"Do you mind?"

"No, of course not."

The kitchen table was a lost cause, half buried in letters and cold calls, a crate of bottled water and a plant you weren't ever good at taking care of so you directed him back into the living room.

The sofa was only a two seater. You put your tea down to finish clearing off the mess you'd made, almost dropping the whole lot.

When you'd finished, you sat down next to Remus, leaving a respectable distance between you, crossing your legs.. Well, as respectable as you could get on your small sofa.

"How's the book coming?" he asked.

You groaned. "It's fine. Ish. The final draft was done but it got focus grouped and - mm. It's stupid."

"It's not. I wanna hear it."

You held your tea in your lap with both hands, welcoming the warmth. "The feedback wasn't what I was expecting."

"How come?"

You blushed, deciding you'd told him too much to backtrack. "A lot of people didn't like the romance. Said it was predictable and boring."

"Just because something's predictable doesn't mean it's bad," he said. "Was all the feedback like that?"

"Mostly."

"I can't see why predictability would be a problem. Isn't it a sign that you've told the whole story, laid out everything nicely?"

You were more than thankful for this charity he was extending you. You couldn't help yourself from looking down at your hands, bashful at the compliment.

"Thank you," you said. "That makes me feel better."

"You'll have to let me read it, any day now."

"You're welcome to a manuscript. They're a pain, though."

"I'll take it however I can get it, I'm not fussy."

You wiggled your eyebrows at him.

"You're worse than James," he said.

You gasped. "Take that back!"

"No, I don't think I will."

"So mean," you mumbled. You pushed a hand down between your legs to cover any appearance of your underwear and prayed he didn't notice. "Have you seen Sirius at all lately? He stopped sending me postcards."

"He came to see me when I was ill," he admitted sheepishly. "I think he's grounded for a bit. Euphemia didn't like his story about the Liverpuddlians."

A laugh burst from you. "Who told her that?"

"He did! Idiot." His eyes almost glowed when he laughed, bright and stunning. You followed the line of his lips, the scar from the corner of his mouth across the bridge of his nose and up through his eyebrow.

He didn't care, watching you watch him as though it were the most natural thing on earth, his head tilting to the side in bemusement.

"What?" he asked.

"You have a new one," you short-circuited, instantly turning from him in shame. "Oh Remus, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have said that. Forgive me.” You pressed the back of your hand to your mouth.

He put his cup of tea down. "It's alright. I get it. They're hard not to notice."

You shook your head. "It doesn't matter. I wasn't thinking," you extended your hand as though to touch his hand, thinking better of it in the end. "Sorry."

He grabbed your hand, squishing your fingers. "It's fine, I mean it. It would be stupid of me to get upset about them now."

You flexed your fingers in his hand, startled.

You couldn't help but wonder what the scars were from in the first place - honestly, when you were young you thought he'd been attacked by a wild animal and as you got older you'd assumed it was a mental health issue.

You weren't sure what you thought about them now, but you felt terrible for bringing it up.

He took his hand back before you could think of something to fill the gap.

"I can't stay long, I promised James I'd help out with Harry's frog garden. But uh- could I get your number, again? Sorry."

"Oh! Sure thing." You sprang to your feet. The cold was giving you goosebumps, your legs like gooseflesh. You spotted your discarded biro by the sofa and grabbed a sheet of the manuscript that didn't look all that important, taking care to write your number as legibly as possible.

You drew a miniscule heart in place of a full stop.

"Here," you said.

He folded it into a neat square and tucked it into his wallet.

"Thanks for the tea," he said. You followed him down the hall and watched him open the door, a little crushed. You hadn't expected much, but still.

You were a hopeless romantic that had found herself trapped in a friend's with benefits situation with the most charming, intelligent and handsome guy you'd ever met. What misfortune.

He kissed your cheek in goodbye.

You had to lean against the doorway for a solid ten minutes after he left, fingertips pressed to the ghost of his mouth.

He called a week and a half before Lily's birthday.

The only people who had your number were Poppy, Guenivere and your family, who rarely called, so you answered hoping it was him.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Y/N. It's Remus. I'm just calling to ask if you'll be at Lily's birthday?"

"Hi! Uh," you had not been invited to Lily's birthday party yet. "I'm not sure."

"Oh, that's too bad. Could I see you before then?"

You clutched the red, shiny plastic earpiece to your mouth trying not to breathe overly loudly. "That would be nice. When are you free?"

"This Friday?"

"That's good for me. I'm free whenever," you laughed to yourself nervously. "Yeah, I'm free."

"Okay, Friday it is. You want to meet at the Leaky Cauldron, 7PM?"

"Yeah, yeah that's fine. Hey, you sound better. How are you feeling?"

"I'm good! Great, even. Thanks. How's the manuscript?"

"Terrible," you said, "you won't believe the spelling mistakes I've made, three drafts in…"

Friday, you were front and centre at the Leaky Cauldron, feeling immaculately clean. You'd shaved your entire body, moisturised every inch of skin, even found a perfume that was said to make a guy like you more.

You'd painted your nails fresh, a sheer jelly pink and a glossy top coat. You'd clipped every cuticle, filed every nail to a perfect almond point.

You'd bought a new pair of shoes.

You seriously wanted to get laid, exclusively by Remus Lupin.

The weather in London was just as cold as you'd expected for the time of year. You'd taken liberties for this. Even though you wanted to come across as spontaneous and fun, you didn't want hypothermia.

You'd inspected your face for hours in the mirror last night, using creams and toners and serums and moisturisers and oils, tweezing stray hairs and icing spots that wanted to come out.

And your hair - you'd bought five different magazines, trying hair tutorials you barely understood. You'd messed up so many times that you ended up washing it again to straighten and forget about, which in itself took a long time. Then you'd rubbed oil through the tips until it looked sleek and shiny.

You felt like a poster girl. It was a nice feeling, for once feeling as though you looked how you felt on the inside.

You rocked on the heels of your feet, ducked under the awning to hide from the rain.

Remus was running late (you hoped). If he stood you up you might never recover.

It was 7.21PM. Was 20 minutes too long to wait for someone? You could feel your heart sinking with every minute that went on. Had you come on too strongly? Was this his way of letting you down? You fiddled with the zip on your purse, trying not to cry.

The time creeped on. When it got to 7.30PM, you told yourself it was the least pathetic thing to do if you left now. Waiting any longer was like drawing out the inevitable. You held your face up to the sky and sniffled, willing the tears back in.

He could be mortally injured, or he could've forgotten. There's no need for it to be personal, you thought, trudging back the disapparation point, face twisted with a frown.

The sound of harsh footfall on the slick pavement prompted you to look up. Remus was weaving through people, almost shoving, trying to get through. When he realised you were watching him he lost the urgency, though he still looked stressed out.

"Y/N," he said, stopping a foot away. "I'm so sorry. Truly." Even apologising he looked unfathomably attractive, chest heaving. You felt as though your eyes were the shape of hearts, blushing at his open mouth.

"Oh, that's okay. I'm just so relieved, I thought you were standing me up," you said, voice still weak from the tears you'd held back.

"I wouldn't," he said. "God, you look cold."

You were shivering. He wrapped a long arm around your shoulders.

"I'm really sorry, I was fixing that stupid fucking fountain for James' toad Palace and we didn't have a clock out there. Have you been out here all this time?”

"No!" you lied instantly. "I was a bit late myself. Not long at all."

"Thank godric," he said, steering you back under the cover from rain. "I wouldn't stand you up, you're much too pretty to mess around."

"You only mess around the uggos?"

His laugh was almost a whoop. "No, of course not."

You grinned, please to have made him laugh. He shouldered the Leaky Cauldron door open and nudged you inside. Your hair was frizzy from the rain.

The inside of the Cauldron was dismal as usual though surprisingly busy and loud, full of wizards who looked much older and resident drunks. The wireless was blaring a song you'd never heard.. You weren't sure where to sit, deliberating between a booth and a little table. Remus rested his hand in the space between your shoulder blades and walked you to the booth.

"Drink?"

"I'll have whatever you have," you said, smiling. You worried you were smiling too much, then remembered he'd already fucked you. It was hardly a time for bashfulness.

When he walked off, you rushed to find the mini compact in your pocket, checking your hair and make up in the mirror. You looked fine, if a little weather worn. You sighed in relief, shrugging your coat off and placing your purse on the table, a little desaturated green clutch that had a false front, hearts embossed deep in the fabric of the fake leather.

"I'm sorry I didn't ask you somewhere nicer," Remus began, setting a drink down in front of you. He put his own down and took off his coat. "If I'm honest, I don't know where's cool nowadays. Not that I've ever known where's cool, actually."

You nodded, taking a sip of your drink. "I wouldn't know where to go either, it's okay."

"And after I walked in on you last time I thought it might be kinder to actually ask you somewhere. I'm still sorry about that, by the way."

You blushed. "Yes, well. It's not like you hadn't seen it before."

"Right," he said, leaning forward on his forearms, head dipping down to talk to you. "Did you want food?"

"I'm not that hungry. Did you?"

"From here?" he laughed. "No. Never in a million years."

He pushed a hand into his pocket searchingly before procuring a single flower, a perfect flower. It was a rose, violet in colour, not a single thorn on its stem.

"Here, for you."

You were careful, though you suspected caution was needless and that he'd charmed it to stay healthy and uncrushed.

"It has an interesting meaning."

"Yeah? And what's that?" you asked.

His tone changed. "It means puppy love."

You felt the words in your abdomen as though he'd pressed a hand there. You twirled the rose between your fingers before setting it down gently on the table.

"I didn't bring you anything," you said lowly.

"Are you joking? You've seen yourself today, right? I'm okay with just one gift, thanks."

"Shut up," you said, feeling your skin heat up at the compliments.

"I don't think so. Here, pass me your compact."

You slid it over. He opened it up with a click and turned it so that you were looking at yourself. "Aren't you the sweetest thing you've ever seen? All dolled up."

"Remus…"

"If you don't see it yourself I'll look at you enough for both of us."

"Only looking, hmm?" you said, though you were shy enough that it came out a whisper.

"What was that?" he asked, though you were sure he'd heard.

"I said," you swallowed. "I said, are you only looking?"

"Are you finished with your drink?" he asked instead.

You sipped again. "No."

His perfect white teeth made an appearance. "No?"

"I was actually thinking I need to use the bathroom."

"You do, do you?"

You nodded solemnly, picking up your coat and purse. You couldn't look at him as you walked away, entering the bathroom without locking it behind you. It was a closed bathroom, gender neutral, a big mirror against the wall. It was brilliantly clean thanks to the sanitation spells of modernity, but you still spelled the general surfaces for good measure.

You dropped your coat and purse on the floor under the sink counter, wiping your damp hands in your legs.

Nerves wracked you. What if he wasn't flirting at all? Just being nice? The longer you stood there the more you worried. You always did this.

You went to grab the handle when it turned under your hand.

Remus pushed the door open, kicking it shut none too gently behind him and grabbing your face with both hands. You gasped, moving backwards, and he followed you, covering your lips with his, soft if a little chapped against yours. Your lip gloss was sticky.

"Lock the door," you said.

He chuckled, pulling the wand from his sleeve and shooting a non-verbal command at it, and a second for good measure.

You asked him what it was.

"A silencing charm," he said, like it didn't make you weak at the knees. He deepened his kiss, hands travelling every which way. You leaned back to compensate for how eager he was.

"Someone's eager," you teased.

He laughed at you, spinning you around so that you were facing the mirror. He stood behind you, one hand coming up to tangle in the hair at the side of your neck. His other hand rested in the curve of your hip.

"You see yourself?" he asked. "Take it in. Anyone who wouldn't want to kiss you silly must be blind."

"And," he said, pressing his lips to the sweet spot at the juncture of your neck. "I've heard what you sound like getting fucked. So you'll have to forgive my enthusiasm."

You clenched your thighs together, tilting your head to give him better access.

The sight of you both in the mirror was pornographic. Tremors ran through your hands.

"Are you okay with this?"

"With what?" you stumbled over the words.

"My fucking you in a bathroom."

"Is that what we're doing?"

"I'd hope so," he said, the words sending vibrations that you felt in your jaw.

"I led you in here, didn't I?"

"I would've liked to buy you dinner first."

"Such a gentleman, next you'll be-" you stopped, his hand having finally slipped under the waistband of your trousers, no preamble, tracing a loop up and down your slit.

"I'll be what? Oh…" he murmured, pushing your underwear to one side. "Making a mess already? You're so cute."

You watched his face in the mirror, watched his hand travel from your neck to your breasts

"Speak up, I can't hear you."

"You're bullying me," you said, with no clue what to do with your hands.

"Look," he said, straightening your head. "Look at yourself. You think you need to bring me a present? You're delusional."

He did this last time, filling your head up with praise and pretty words until you were putty in his hands. He pulled his hand out of your underwear, bringing it up to your mouth. "Open?"

You shook your head, giggling. "You're so dirty."

He pushed your hair back with both hands, tucking it behind your ears, the wet of you smearing into your skin. "Perfect."

You turned your head, seeking out his kisses again. He gave in. You knew that you shouldn't beg for such affections, you weren't his girl, but he gave it to you anyways and you couldn't make yourself stop.

He sat you up on the sink counter. The feeling of being lifted so effortlessly would've made you wet if you weren't already there, feeling instantly mad for him. You found yourself running your hands down his arms if only to feel the lean muscle beneath.

You were squished up against the mirror, neck craned uncomfortably.

He fiddled with the button on your trousers, pulling them down and folding them with as much care as he could without slowing down.

He pulled your back to slide down until you were right at the edge. Your legs dangled over the edge unceremoniously, your feet at least 5 inches from the ground. You swung them there, mouth dry watching him unbutton his own pants.

"I don't know if you'll believe me," he said, pumping his dick in his hand, thumb smearing pre-cum over the head. "But you're stunning like this, all flushed and trembling."

"I'm trembling cos I'm scared for my life," you half-joked, eyeing him up. He hadn't seemed so big in the dark. "You're too big."

He pulled your underwear down to your knees, using a fingertip to push a line of slick back into you. His hands grabbed your knees, holding your legs up to push the tips of your thighs against your stomach.

"Now how can that be-" he paused, lining his dick up to your opening, "-when you fit me so perfectly last time?" He stretched you open.

Despite the wetness, it was a tight fit at first. You let out an unholy sound, reaching down to press circles in your clit.

He splayed you open with his hands, watching closely as you constricted around his dick.

"Is that okay?"

"Yep. Yep." Even to yourself you could tell your voice was strained. He pulled out, rubbing up and down against your entrance.

He swatted your hand away and replaced it with his own, pad of his thumb rubbing rapid, unforgiving circles. He used his fingers to stretch you out, gently, slowly, adding a third to your great delight.

"You don't have to-"

"I do." He opened his fingers inside you, pushing deep, deeper.

"I feel like I'm gonna pee," you protested.

"You won't," he chuckled.

"But what if I do!?"

"If you pee, you pee. Now shush."

You rolled your hips onto his fingers. "Go deeper."

"How long do you think my fingers are?" he asked, though he tried his best regardless, curling up into the spot that made you feel like jelly. You were trying your best to fuck back onto his fingers, a discordant rhythm, panting with effort.

You could feel your orgasm building and you writhed. "Stop stop stop. I want you inside when I- when-"

He pulled his fingers out, tutting. The feeling receded a bit and you sighed in relief, able to move your hips without fear of pushing your high too far.

"Such a needy thing," he said. "Okay, dove, let's try again."

Dove, he'd called you. You covered your eyes with a hand and bit your lip to stop from saying something embarrassing.

It was a strange thing to feel him pressing in but not see it. It was definitely easier this time around, Remus almost to the hilt. He was quick to find a pace that pleased you both, his hips doing most of the work. You anchored yourself to him with your hands grasping his forearms, his hands on your waist. He began pulling you onto him, your head bobbing up and down the wall.

He wrapped his arms around the back of your head, your left leg dangling uselessly, right pushed up to your chest. You felt like he was in your stomach, glancing down between you, watching him fuck you with wide eyes. He followed your eyes.

“I feel so full,” you whimpered.

He pressed his hand into your lower abdomen, grinning at the feeling of his own thrusts. It was the dirtiest thing a guy had ever done to you, you decided. It was ruination.

“Remus,” you said, intending to finish but losing the nerve.

“What?” he asked, slowing down momentarily.

You whined. “Harder please.”

“Please? So polite. I guess I have to,” he said, smiling devilishly. He knew how much power he had over your pleasure, then, knew that he could get away with being smug.

He pulled back all the way before rocking in, and you felt as though you could burst into tears from the pleasure of it. It was overwhelming, addictive. You begged him to do it again, the counter pressing into your back so hard you knew there’d be lines left behind when you managed to stand again.

Every thrust pulled a too-loud moan from you, especially as the sheer force was accompanied by a change in speed. It got to the point where you felt like you hadn’t even begun to recover from the thrust when a new one rocked it. Your moans began to merge into one long string of sound, babbling and begging him to keep going.

“You like this, don’t you bub? I can just see it on your face,” he teased, thumb stroking the skin of your cheek, wiping away the first signs of tears.

He was breathing hard, encompassing each one of your senses. You could feel him, smell him - sandalwood and fresh linen and maybe something salty. You knew if you touched yourself at all it would end in your undoing. Remus looked at you like he could read your mind, maybe he could, and it took seconds of him stirring circles at your centre for you to cry out and clamp down around him, arms pulling his chest to your face.

Remus wrapped his arms fully around your neck and head as though bracing for impact and thrust into you at a pace that refused to slow despite your contractions. You tried to pay attention, tried to stroke your hands through his hair. The stimulation drew tears from you, and you found yourself pleading, half incomprehensible.

“You’ll come in me, won’t you Remus? Please, please, please.”

He shouted, something that could’ve been your name, slamming right to the hilt.

You smiled, feeling the warmth of his cum filling you up. He was exhausted, understandably, burying his face in the side of your neck and breathing you in hard.

“You shouldn’t ask me to do that,” he sighed, nestling his face into your skin.

“Why not?”

He shook his head and turned to peck your sternum. You pushed your leg from between you both to lie flat, feeling ridiculous, like a rag doll.

He kissed your skin once more before standing up, buttoning his trousers up with an expert hand. He’d definitely done this before.

He retrieved some toilet paper and attempted to wipe up some of the mess that you could feel leaking out of you. You rolled your eyes at his antics, pulling your underwear up and dropping down onto the floor. You almost fell from the weakness in your legs. He smoothed your hair down, pulling your shirt from where it had ridden up, smarting you up again.

“Beautiful,” he said, leaning against the counter and pulling you to his side. “You okay?”

You looked up to his face and offered him a woozy, blissful smile, teeth and all.

That night, Remus force-fed you dinner at Chinese food buffet and walked you all the way to the door of your flat. He kissed you goodnight.

The next morning he called you and asked how you felt.

“My legs hurt,” you moaned.

“Sorry, Y/N.”

“I asked for it.”

You chatted about amicable things and also things you were ashamed to say over the phone.

“You’ll be at Lily’s party, won’t you?”

“Remus, I haven’t actually been invited.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive,” you said, trying to sound unaffected.

“I'll call you back.”

He called you back 20 minutes later.

“Guess whose job it was to send out invitations?”

“Not yours, I hope.”

“How could you think so little of me? No, it was Sirius’. See you at Godric’s Hollow, 8pm sharp, okay?”

“Okay,” you said, wincing at your too-happy tone.

“Alright, talk to you then?”

“Yes. Oh - Remus. Uh, what do I wear?

“Whatever you like. You’d look good in a plastic bag.”

You blushed. “Thanks, but I really need an idea.”

“The silk slip could make a reappearance.”

“You’re no help. Bye, Remus.”

You clicked the phone down into the receiver hard and tried to wipe the smile from your mouth.

You ended up wearing a satin, burgundy dress with lace trimmings at the neck that exposed a diamond of skin just below your breasts. It came to your knees with a slit up one side that exposed the few inches of thigh below your underwear. It covered much more of your chest and neck than the dress Remus favoured, which was necessary with the January cold.

You also decided to swap the kitten heels for tights and chunky heel platform boots, leather effect, that zipped at the sides and clung to your calves. It took you 45 minutes and a hairdryer to get them on. You weren’t sure how you felt about them but had run out of time to change.

You tried to call Remus before you left, overthinking. You still hadn’t received an invitation. If Lily didn’t want you there you’d probably burst into flames on the spot. It went to answering machine. You hung up.

You messed with your hair, brushing your curls out with your fingers. They’d fall out before you got there at this rate. You sprayed an extra coating of hairspray over it and then rubbed perfume in the skin behind your ears.

It wouldn’t do any good worrying. You just had to go.

You disapparated and realised you’d forgotten your jacket. The lane down to James and Lily’s house wasn’t long but you were still cold as ice by the time you got there, crossing your arms over your chest.

The lights were on, seeping out the blinds and spilling on the pavement. You could hear laughter and chattering drift through the open window, Sirius’ dulcet, familiar laughter ringing out above the wind roaring in your ears. You hesitated at the door, looking down at your outfit and feeling silly. Were you overdressed? Under? Sirius would be dressed to the nines if no one else, so maybe you shouldn’t worry.

The door flew open.

You flinched back. James grinned at you, bouncing baby Harry on his hip. “McKinnon! I could almost feel you having heart palpitations on my porch.”

“You saw me through the window.”

“That I did! Come in, come in. Oh, you look awesome. You and Lily have similar taste!” he complimented.

You stepped delicately over his threshold, boots loud against their hardwood flooring. Harry was babbling happily, reaching out his hands. You babbled back, offering your finger for him to hold in his tiny palm.

“He’s happy to see you.”

“I’m happy to see him,” you said in baby-voice. “He’s gotten more lovely since last time.”

“He’s an image of me, of course.”

“Yes he is,” you cooed. “Lovely baby Harry. You are just the cutest thing.”

“You want to hold him?”

“Can I?”

You held your hands out. Harry was more than happy to see you, helping himself to a handful of your hair. You held him close to your chest.

“Oh, you remember,” you said, delighted even as you felt the hair detach from your head.

“Sorry,” James said, pulling your hair free from Harry’s little hands. “We’re working on it.”

“Is Marlene here?”

“The kitchen, vying for Sirius’ affection.”

You pushed the soft, thick hair out of Harry’s eyes. “She’ll get him one day.”

“Maybe. He’s trying to seduce the guy from the farmers market this week.”

“What a harlot,” you said. Harry giggled. “You understand what I’m saying, of course.”

“Talking of harlots… I heard a rumour you saw my Moony this week.”

“I saw lots of him,” you said.

“Stop using that voice, I’m trying to have an adult conversation.”

“You’re trying to make me embarrassed.”

“Am not.”

“Are too. Let me bond with your baby.”

“At least sit down, you’re almost as tall as me with those shoes.”

“You don’t like them?” you asked, following him through the hall and into the living room. It was mostly quiet, Lily’s friends from school scattered through the room. The most activity was taking place in the kitchen, where the music originated from.

“They’re nice.”

You were shocked when he sat down with you, making small talk and the big-talk.

“How’s your book?”

“It’s fine. They like it, even. I’m not sure I like it anymore.”

“What’s wrong with it?”

“I’m starting to think I don't understand relationships at all."

"Don't fret, Y/N. You have time."

"I know I do," you said, smiling at Harry as he snuggled into your chest. "I just wish it would move a bit quicker sometimes."

"Let me tell you something," James said, arm moving to the sofa behind you, leaning in as though he were telling a grave secret. "I wish now, more than anything, time would slow down. He's already so much older than I could imagine him," he said, nodding at Harry.

"He's a treasure. I can't believe you made him."

"Nice, McKinnon."

You shared an infectious smile between you both. Somebody called for more wine. James, ever the dedicated host, was quick on his feet to find some.

You cuddled Harry close to your chest, content to sit there while he was happy and sleepy. You rubbed the knuckle of your index finger over his forehead, pushing his hair back, smiling as he battled to stay awake.

It was a trap you fell in often, but being presented with Harry, with a baby, with Lily and James Potter’s family home full of friends, it made you wonder if you were doing it all wrong.

Was it silly to be fucking somebody with no romantic intentions for you?

You’d joked about having his baby but you still took the potion the day after. Not that you didn’t want to have his baby, if you thought about it you couldn’t think of someone better to have a child with. Remus might not love you, but he was loving. Extremely caring. You imagined if you became pregnant he was the kind of dolt to wait on his baby’s mother hand and foot.

Still, it was something you should actually talk about with somebody, and not just to flirt.

You felt that little trickle of envy and frowned at yourself. You were happy for James, truly, but he seemed to have walked into a life you could only dream of - best friends who want to see you more than once a year, a beautiful, intelligent wife and a perfect child.

What did you have? James as a friend, Sirius as somebody who felt like they had an obligation to you, your best friends who didn’t ask you to travel the world with them and Remus, of course… your fling? Were you friends with benefits? You wondered if you knew each other well enough to qualify for the friends part.

You should probably be content with that for now, you thought, glancing around the room as all these people you half-knew went on like you weren’t there. Maybe James and Sirius and Remus had to be enough.

Nobody else was volunteering to spend time with you. For them you were grateful.

You’d arrived early, earlier than Remus. Completely by accident, though you couldn’t find it in yourself to care, pleased beyond words with the little baby sharing warmth with you against your chest. Every now and then he wriggled like you were uncomfortable.

“Sorry, Harry,” you whispered.

"I want one of you," you admitted to him. "I think I-"

"Y/N!" Sirius called, Remus on his heel. "There you are, I told Moons you were already here."

Your face lit up. "Hi guys."

"Stop hogging my godson. Everytime I see you, you've stolen him."

"Be quicker," you told him, unsympathetic.

Remus skirted around Sirius to sit next to you. "Nice dress."

"It's not what you suggested."

"I like this one well enough."

"Good god," Sirius said. "Pass me the baby before you poison his mind."

Remus tilted his head back, light brown hair dusting the back of his neck. "Don't be jealous."

You brought Harry closer to your chest. "You can't have him. I'm gonna steal him."

Sirius looked scandalised at this, sitting at the floor in front of the sofa and staring up at you and Remus like he almost couldn't believe how close you were.

"What happened to you having your own?"

You could feel yourself pale. You tried to make out Remus' expression in the corner of your eye, not sure what to say.

"We'll let you know when it happens," Remus said, unaffected.

Harry stirred. You rocked him in your arms with as much care as you could, eyes creasing at the corners.

Sirius laughed. You looked up, not understanding what was funny. He was looking at Remus.

"I'll expect that news sooner rather than later."

The night drifted on, more and more people piling in until it was as full as you'd expected. The guests were all pretty tame compared to those that attended the Christmas party, respectful, though there were definitely some rowdy moments.

One of Lily's friends managed to steal Harry from you. You watched the group of women fuss over him, ooh-ing and ah-ing every time he moved.

"Did I look like that?"

Remus shrugged. "Yes and no.”

You hummed in response.

Remus' hand rested on your bare thigh, thumb smoothing the skin there restlessly. James had ended up next to Sirius eventually, escaping the crowd in the kitchen. He smirked at your drooping eyes, as if to say, I told you so. You sent him a grateful smile. If he'd never suggested Remus for a turn, you wouldn't be where you were now. You might not even be at this party tonight, alone in your kitchen with the white blinking light and a draft you didn't care about.

Remus barely left your side all night and you couldn't complain. It was exactly what you wanted, after all. You talked about so many things you could barely remember. Every time he made you laugh, he looked down at you with this indescribable expression.

Lily's birthday cake was grand, Euphemia's doing. You all gathered in the kitchen to sing to her. She was glowing, Harry at her hip, looking incandescently happy.

Sirius threw an arm around your shoulder as he whooped. "Hip hip!"

"Hooray!" The crowd cheered, dissolving in chuckles and claps. Lily blew out her candles in one big breath.

"What did you wish for?" you heard James ask.

"I'll tell you after."

They shared a soft look.

The evening drew to a close. Sirius was looking after Harry for the night, so he left early. James and Lily had definitely had enough wine between the two of them for a quidditch team. You felt as though you were watching an intimate moment between them, Lily’s head in James’ lap as they laughed drunkenly.

People were leaving in droves. Remus turned to you and asked, "You'll come home with me?"

Remus made quick work of your dress and less quick work of your shoes. You laughed the whole time as he peeled them off.

You took his shirt off him with nimble fingers before pushing him back to sit in the leather armchair in the corner of his living room, pushing down the waistband of his trousers. You kneeled before him, taking him in your hands to pump his semi.

He leaned down to kiss you, breath stuttering in your mouth every time your fingers graced the head of his cock. He was an excellent kisser even when distracted, his hand never leaving the side of your face. You kissed up eagerly, attentively, hoping he understood that you’d let him do anything he wanted to you.

You pulled away, reluctant. You intended to show him how much you really, really liked him, leaning forward slowly, carefully, taking the head of his dick into your mouth. You used your other hand expertly, if his groans were any evidence.

“Where’d you learn that one?” he asked.

“Practicing,” you said. Your mouth popped off with a lewd wet sound, a string of spit stretching from his cock to your lips.

“With who?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” you said, licking up the underside of his shaft. You wrapped your lips around the head and kissed him. “I’m messing with you. I’m not fucking anyone else.”

“You’re not?”

“Who’s fucking me, Remus?” you asked, using your other hand to pump the parts of his shaft you couldn’t reach with your mouth. “You’re one of the few people in the world who can stand me.”

His hand pushed your face to the side, thumb pulling the skin so you were smiling on one side. “You’re so down on yourself. If they could see how hot you looked now they’d be breaking down the doors.”

You laughed, the exhale blowing air on his cock that had him twitching in response and then taking him in your mouth with intentions of fitting him all inside. You bobbed on his dick until you couldn’t breathe, gasping. You pulled away, spittle dripping down your chin.

Remus came to your rescue, swiping the spit back up with his fingers and pushing it inside your mouth, his fingers sliding down your tongue. You let him do what he liked, mouth open, eyes watching his pleased, guilty face.

You almost gagged on his fingers and he pulled out, cooing,

You brought your mouth to the bottom of his shaft, kissing and suckling the skin there, the tip of him pressed against your cheek as you worked on him. He clutched the armchair beneath him tightly, the veins on his hand standing out, green against his pale skin. You took his head in your mouth again, moving up and down with him occasionally reaching the back of your throat. You pulled away, breathing hard, giggling at how you’d gagged around him. He was red in the face.

“You have to tell me if you feel my teeth,” you said, pushing your palm up the side of your wet face.

“You’re doing so well,” he praised you, hands tender on your face, stroking your hair and your cheek. “Just take your time.”

You did the opposite of his advice, wanting to take all of him in. You failed spectacularly, gagging, each time having to pull off and breathe. The amount of spit you were producing was ridiculous, making a mess of your face and dripping down onto your cold breasts.

The little puddle of excitement was growing between your legs, pooling on the floor beneath you in a slippery puddle that almost made you want to buck your hips. You pushed your hand between your legs, almost laughing at how soaked you were. Every moan of his sent another rush of excitement to your core, which resulted in even more slick dripping out of you.

Remus noticed what you were doing and was insufferably pleased. “Look at how wet you are, making a mess on my floor,” he teased. "I haven’t even touched you! So turned on from giving me head, huh? Precious thing, come here.”

You shook your head, determined to take his full length in your mouth. “I’m busy.”

“Oh, you're busy.” He held your face with one hand, pushing you away from his cock. “Come here.”

You pouted, doing as he asked with fake annoyance. When you’d hooked your legs over his, feeling his rock-hard cock bob against your messy entrance, you couldn’t maintain the facade anymore, smiling down at his handsome face.

He positioned his dick with his hand, rubbing the head back and forth until you were moaning out in disbelief everytime he didn’t enter you. You moved your hips, attempting to follow his teasing path.

“You never stay still,” he protested. He pushed into you, head stretching you slowly, so slowly. You sank down onto him quicker than what was probably necessary, breathless at the stretch of it.

“And you’re so impatient!” he laughed, pulling out to hammer back in. You sighed, hand flat against his chest, fingernails digging into his skin.

You tried to do the hard work and Remus stopped you, holding your hips in place so that he was fucking up into you. He shook his head every time you tried to move. You pushed your face into his neck and grumbled at him.

“Yeah, I’m a real villain,” he said in response.

You were both worked up, Remus much more than you. He’d been half on the edge from your mouth. His moans became louder, more frequent, which only spurred you on. The next time he fucked all the way in you clamped around him, sinking down on his dock and making a sound of delighted victory. You rubbed your cunt down on him and let him take quick, shallow strokes, hitting the sweet spot inside you over and over.

It couldn’t have been five minutes of this when he was suddenly finishing, his grip on your hips tightening. His moaning hit a crescendo, escaping out of him despite his best attempts to hold them in. You sucked a circle of his neck, biting down to make a hickey while he was distracted.

You felt his cum leaking out around his cock, joining the mess of slick you’d already left all over him. He didn’t pull out and you had no intention of standing, feeling him soften inside you. You wiggled around him anyways.

You started on your second love bite, rolling your hips. Remus threw his head back, catching his breath.

“Can feel all your cum in me,” you said into his skin. He could probably feel you smiling. “I’ll be full of puppies in no time.”

He snorted, though his cock starting to harden inside you let you know you were going in the right direction. You milked his cock, basking in the knowledge that you could get him up so soon after he’d cum.

“Uh-huh,” you murmured, dropping down on him again. “All filled up with your puppies. You’d like that, wouldn’t you Lupin?”

“Fuck, Y/N.”

“I think you would,” you whispered. You moved onto a third love bite and he stopped you, hand pushing you back by the shoulder.

“That’s enough for me, don’t you think?” he asked. “Stand up?”

You did, feeling all the cum and slick run in rivulets down your thigh. He stood too.

He manoeuvred you so that you were in front of the armchairs arm, encouraging you down with his hands so that your abdomen was flat to the arm, one leg hiked up to rest your weight on the seat, the other planted on the floor.

“Pretty cunt,” he said lowly, seeking out your clit. “So pretty.”

He rubbed tight little circles until you were restless, wriggling on the arm. He pushed two fingers in your cunt, pushing you down by the shoulders with the other to stop your fidgeting.

“Pretty pussy all puffy and gaping. Fuck, you're so fucking cute,” he said roughly, pushing his cock back into you.

You practically sobbed, delirious with his praise. The force of his thrust drove you up, lifting your abdomen from the arm each time. He pushed you back down with one hand, the other busy working on your beating clit.

He was faster now, sliding in and out of you like a piston. He leveraged one leg next to yours on the seat, the higher angle allowing him to fuck down into your cunt. Your legs shook from the angle. You mewled his name over and over, reaching a hand backwards. He held it tightly, knitting your fingers together, almost pulling you back by your joined hands.

“Touch yourself,” he demanded, his thrusts getting sloppier. “If you want to hold hands you’ll have to touch yourself.”

You complied, arm quickly going dead under your weight. You stopped just before you could reach your climax, rubbing your face in the chair's cold leather.

"That wasn't the deal," he said, voice coloured by laughter. He slowed right down, hand squeezing yours like he was trying to speak to you through it. You sighed in resignation, letting yourself fall over the edge.

"That's my girl," he said, the drag of his dick pure ecstasy while you constricted around him. He pulled out and you listened to him bring himself right over the edge with you, his cum warm and wet where it landed on the small of your back.

He helped you up, rubbing both hands up the lengths of your arms. You turned around, ducking your head into his chest.

"You okay?"

"Yeah."

"Alright," he said. He squeezed your body tight to his chest, the pressure helping you wind down from the high you'd been on. Your thighs felt tight, like you'd done 50 squats.

He kissed the hair at the top of your head. "You want a shower? I'm afraid I've made a right mess of you."

"Please," you said. Neither of you moved to leave.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yes, Remus. Promise."

He looped his arms around your knees, lifting you up bridal style. You screamed. He carried you all the way to the bathtub, laughing like a maniac.

After showering, you led stretched out in his bed. He had a nice dark room. He’d passed you a soft shirt and a pair of his boxers before leaving to shower himself. You weren’t sure you saw the point - if you were staying the night, surely he’d want to have sex again. What other reason would he ask you here?

You let your arm dangle off the edge of his wide bed, turning to look at his bookshelf with mild interest.

Pain Relief Potions of the Modern Age. Constellations and their Meanings, 2nd edition. The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy.

You rolled to have your feet under you, curious to see what that last one was. You pulled it from the case with care. It fell open, worn by fingertips. Remus had underlined phrases with a pencil, words that sounded pretty, funny quotes.

Something about it made your heart hurt.

You leafed through the pages, stopping at what looked like a darker line.

'Isn't it enough to see that a garden is beautiful without having to believe that there are fairies at the bottom of it too?'

He'd annotated. Not always.

You wondered what he meant. You traced the pad of your finger up the page, feeling the texture of the paper.

You shook your head. You probably shouldn't be looking through his things, after all, and he'd be out of the shower soon enough.

Your hair was dripping a wet patch on your chest. You pushed it behind your back, slotting Remus' book back on the shelf.

Knees aching where you kneeled, you studied the rest of the titles on his bookshelf. Satisfied and feeling slightly guilty for snooping, you got to your feet catching the corner of his desk on your side. You hissed in annoyance, watching a red line of scrammed skin appear from hip bone to the bottom of your ribs. You walked over to his mirror and pulled your shirt right up to below your breasts, frowning.

It wasn't deep enough to bleed droplets, though blood did well to the surface.

Remus opened the bedroom door, almost hitting you.

"Sorry, Y/N-" he cut off, noticing how you were stood. "Did I do that?"

You pulled your shirt down, startled at his grave tone. He was wearing his boxers and nothing else, towel around his neck to catch the water from his wet hair.

He caught the edge of your shirt and pinned it up, other hand pulling your hip towards him to assess the damage.

"Caught it on the desk."

He sighed through his nose in relief, such a subtle action you wouldn't normally have noticed if he hadn't puzzled you so much with his reaction.

He pulled your shirt back down, neatening the edges with gentleness. He pecked you on the forehead as though it were second nature and turned away, bringing the towel up to rub at his wet hair.

You returned to his bed, half-hoping he was going to tumble with you again, laying on your side. You tucked your chin to your chest and hiked one leg up in what you hoped was somewhat provocative.

He sat down at the foot of the bed, placing his free hand on your calf.

"Are you hungry?"

You glanced at his alarm clock. It was almost 2 in the morning. You said as much.

"But are you hungry?"

You were. You felt as though it would've been polite to refuse but Remus made you feel as though whatever answer you gave him would be the right one.

"Sure."

He abandoned the towel over the bed post and pulled on some comfortable trousers. He rifled through his drawers for an off white undershirt with short sleeves and a dark navy jumper to layer over top.

He chucked a jumper at your feet. It was long on you.

You followed him into his kitchen, socks slippery on the laminate floor.

"Toast?"

"Anything is fine."

You tried to help. When you burnt your finger on the toaster he picked you up by the waist and set you down next to the sink.

"Stay there," he laughed.

You kicked your feet, grumbling.

He ran the tap to fill two glasses of water, water flecking your bare legs. You pulled the sleeves of his borrowed jumper down over your fingers to wipe it away.

"Drink this."

"Yes sir."

He wasn't brilliant at making toast. It came out a bit burned and the butter melted too quickly. He covered it with a formidable amount of jam and jumped up on the counter, holding the plate between you both. You munched on it happily, getting jam and butter all over your hands.

His thigh pressed up against yours and you thought, I wish we could do this every night. His elbow knocked against yours and you thought, I wish I never had to leave this moment.

But you did. You washed your fingers under the tap, wiping them dry on the front of your shirt. He shook his head at you in amusement.

When you went back to his room you thought, okay, were going to have sex again. He didn't send me home.

But he pulled the covers over you up to your chin, switched off the lights, and threw an arm over your chest, hand grasping your shoulder. You stayed up for a long time, listening to him breathe.

Fuck, you thought. This is going to hurt.

my masterlist <3

tag list for marauders: @marimorena06

thanks for reading !

3K notes · View notes

celluifleur · 6 days

Text

baby fever [remus lupin x reader]

“I’m not sure what my children would look like, but yours would be ridiculously cute.”

“It might take a few goes. A practice run’s required, don’t you think?”

wordcount: 6.2k

warnings: marauders era, nsft, smut, its half friends with benefits half idiots in love, she/her pronouns used for reader, fem reader, 18+ only please

chapter list

“If you're so desperate for a turn, just ask Moony," James said.

"Moony?" you asked. "You mean Sirius."

"No, shortcake. I mean Moony."

"I don't know why I even told you, I should've known you'd make jokes."

James laughed, leaning his head back against his wife Lily's legs. You were in the Potter household, visiting your long time friend James now that you'd finished Hogwarts.

Lily was reading a book, looking half asleep. Little baby Harry was sleeping soundly upstairs.

Lily gave you a kind smile. "It surprised me too when I found out."

"Found out what?"

"Moony can be... how can I say this. He likes a casual hook-up."

"Really?" you asked, perking up from where you sat. You'd been friendly with the marauders in school, meeting them through your cousin Marlene. They were kind, accepting, and latched onto you like a lost duckling.

This suited you just fine, the more loving friendships you had in your life the better.

Despite this, the inner workings of the marauders were a mystery to you. You knew little of their private affairs, their bigger secrets. You were okay with that, content on being however close or far from them that they'd allow.

That being said, you felt a little put out that everyone seemed privy to this story but you.

"It's not a secret, he just enjoys the intimacy, I think," James said.

"Plus, he's very generous in bed," Lily said with a guilty smile, wiggling her eyebrows at you.

"What, you've... you've been with him?"

"Only once, before we knew how much Jamesy-Wamsey here fancied me."

"I can't begrudge her that," James said, laughing. "After all, I've also been with Moony."

"You have?"

"Not to air out his business, but so has Sirius. And your cousin. And Frank, too."

"And Alice and Mary and Gwen and Rich."

"Are you sure he'd be okay with me knowing all this?" you asked, feeling a bit uncomfortable.

"Don't worry, he's very open about it."

"I'd no idea," you said. "Admittedly, I'm a little jealous. He's fucking everyone except me."

"Not us," Lily said, holding up her and James' joint hands. "Monogamy."

"Everyone who's single, then."

"It's not about looks or anything, doll," James said reassuringly.

"He just goes with what he knows. Though he and Sirius had to stop after the Toby Carvery incident."

You didn't want to know. You were perplexed by this, not that you thought it was weird. It was perfectly natural for Remus to be having sex, he was single and attractive and a very nice guy, you just didn't know he was open to sex with friends. Like you'd confided in James and Lily moments before, it had been a while since you'd had sex. You missed intimacy and genuinely just the pleasure and sensation of it.

"How would I even ask him about it? He probably wouldn't want to take a turn with a girl like me, anyways."

"'A girl like you'," James said scornfully. "Beautiful, intelligent and kind?"

"’Intelligent’ is a stretch," you said, deflecting.

"You're putting yourself down again. You're stunning, Y/N. Remus thinks so. And if he doesn't want to, it would never be about looks anyways," James said.

"You're right," you sighed.

"The worst thing he can do is say no," Lily said. Then, at the sound of a fussing baby, "Oh, best get that."

"I'll go," James said.

"No, that's okay. I miss my little prince anyways."

Lily made off up the stairs on her impossibly light footing, humming something cheery all the way.

"I hate to see her leave, but I love to watch her walk away," James whistled.

You wrinkled your nose. "Disgusting. Stop being in love for five seconds."

"No, I don't think I will." He grinned infectiously.

You grinned back. "I'm so happy you're so happy, James. All of you. It's about time we had some good. Especially Sirius. His postcards are ridiculous."

"Aren't they just? I must get 5 a week. He's acting as though he's not a port key away."

"It's pretty funny. My favourite one is from Milton Keynes, it says that everything is impossibly made of concrete and the muggles reflect their environment."

James chortled. "Sound similar to what he said about the Liverpuddlians."

"He's more offensive than he realises."

"He's all in good faith. Moony said he's much more insufferable in his fire calls. He won't ring me 'cause he knows I'm still mad-"

"About the frogs. I know."

"What was he thinking? 12 frogs for one baby? Harry doesn't even know what a frog is. How he expects me to look after them all is beyond."

"You're hardly looking after them," a gravelly, soft voice said. You looked over your shoulder in surprise.

"I built them a house."

"A puddle in the back garden doesn't count," Remus said. He looked windblown, red in the cheeks. "Hi, Y/N. It's been a while."

"I know. It's my own fault. I'm working on my second draft now," you said apologetically.

His eyebrows pinched together. "That's amazing! I'd love to read it sometime."

"Oh, that's kind, but I don't think you'd enjoy it. Silly girl romance."

"I doubt it's silly if you wrote it."

You beamed at him. "Thanks, Remus. So uh, have you been up to much?"

"He's been doing lots," James said. “Lots of people."

You blushed all the way to your hairline.

Remus just laughed. A fresher looking scar pulled taut with the movement of his mouth.

"Not too much."

"Oh, that must be nice though right? Just taking time to slow down and enjoy life."

"He's certainly enjoying some things."

"James, please," you said, pinching the bridge of your nose.

"He's just jealous," Remus told you, nudging you with his elbow. "He's not getting anything with Harry teething all night."

James scowled. "Whatever, Moony."

You were blushing and pretending not too. You weren't overly shy, but certainly talking about Remus' sex life so brazenly was enough to make you feel as though every breath you took was too loud.

You couldn't help but think what he'd be like in bed, ruggedly handsome with his sandy brown hair framing his face, big hands on you. You felt ashamed of yourself, thinking about him in such a way whilst being sat right next to him.

He had that charming, amused smile on his face that he usually reserved for Sirius, like he could tell exactly what you were thinking.

James yawned, flopping onto his side and splaying out on the hardwood flooring. "God, what a boring day," he said, sounding pleased.

If you listened, you could hear Lily humming softly from, upstairs. For a split second your stomach rolled with jealousy. Oh, to be young and in love and content.

"It's nice," you said softly, smiling down into your mug of tea, growing cold. "I wish everyday could be like this."

"Try changing nappies all night and see how you feel then."

Remus smiled ruefully. "You'll miss it, one day, when he's slamming doors and getting girls pregnant."

"I'm more worried about you doing that."

"We get it, prongs, I'm promiscuous."

You giggled. "He needs to hurry so Harry has a friend."

"The Longbottom's have a boy only a few months apart, so he's all set for friends. Don't feel any rush," he said, pointing at Remus.

"Unless Sirius decides to carry my child I doubt you'll be seeing a descendant from me for a long while."

"Why's that?" you asked, feeling like you'd missed a page.

He rolled his shoulders. "Oh, you know, settling down isn't on the cards for me just now."

"I get that," you said, though you absolutely didn't. "I don't imagine myself having a baby anytime soon, either," you said, doing your best to keep the wistfulness from your voice.

"I'm sure there's a line of guys after you," Remus said compassionately.

James rolled his eyes. "You know our Y/N, doesn’t know you're flirting with her unless you put it in writing."

"That was one time," you protested.

"Poor Xenophilius. He's happy now anyways, Alice says they’ve a baby on the way," Lily said, traipsing back in with a grin, her long ginger hair flowing behind her.

"I'm not sure we would've been the best fit at the time," you agreed. "He was very handsome, though."

"And rich!" James cheered. Lily poked him hard in the back.

"Money doesn't matter to most people," Lily said. "If anything, your money makes you less attractive."

James keened. "You cruel woman."

"It is true, James. Money only matters if you don't like the person to begin with."

"I resent what you're implying."

You covered your mouth and drove your head into Remus' shoulder without thinking, laughing hysterically at your own joke.

Remus laughed, full chest, resting a hesitant hand on your shoulder to steady you both.

"I like you very much," Lily comforted her husband, though she was resting her feet on his back.

"I can tell," he said, face pressed to the floor.

The next time you saw Remus was at the Potter Christmas party, hosted by James' parents in the extravagant Potter Manor.

You were nervous, twisting your hands in the fabric of your champagne silk slip dress. It was a busy affair, for charity, with more attendees that you could ever name and most of them older, richer, and from a purer family than your own. Although your blood status had never mattered to the Potter's, who accepted everyone with open arms.

The weather was bitterly cold. You wrapped your shawl around you tightly against the freezing gales, looking up at the charcoal black night peppered in stars like crushed diamonds, stretched out across the expanse of sky. You couldn't make out one end from the other.

Your cousin Marlene had accompanied you, however your nerves were getting the better of you and so she’d left you for a moment to yourself. The sound from inside was raucous, clinking and laughter and the chorus of a live band. You'd sent her in, where she was desperate to seek out Sirius. Whether she was seeking a love affair or a tumble was anyone's guess.

You were shaking, your heels maybe a bad choice for someone who didn't wear them that often. Your breasts were tight with the cold and you moved an arm to cover them.

"This is silly," you mouthed to yourself. "They're just people."

You exhaled out of your nose and turned suddenly to enter, coming face to chest with somebody solid and lean.

"Woah, McKinnon. Slow your roll."

"Oh, Sirius. I'm sorry," you said, backing away.

"Just saw dearest Marlene," he smirked at you. "She said you were too afraid to come in."

"I'm not afraid," you scoffed weakly. "I was just warming up."

"That's the opposite of what you were doing," he said pointedly. "Your skin’s like ice."

"Ah," you said, hyper aware of your dress and your hair and your face.

"You look great!" he said encouragingly. "Let's not deprive the rich and prosperous of you any longer, hmm?"

"Right."

You let yourself be steered inside, his arm over your shoulder.

"So - how was the world?"

He laughed, "well, I didn't see much of it. Missed home too much," he said. You didn't think he was talking about the Noble House of Black.

You smiled, spotting a photo of him and James displayed proudly in the foyer, which was teeming with people in various states of dress, half with their coats on waiting to be attended to.

"It's very busy."

Sirius nodded at your comment. "You should see the parlor, one can barely move. Like sardines. All the young ones are in the den, this way," he said. You abandoned your shawl at a coat rack that could barely keep itself up.

"You look particularly ravishing tonight," he said. His voice was much easier to hear now, the commotion of the party falling away as you walked.

"Oh," you looked down at yourself, feeling silly and overdressed and like you didn't fit right. "Thanks, Sirius. You look nice too."

"'Nice,' she says." He held a hand over his chest like you'd punched him.

"Handsome," you corrected yourself. "You always do."

He grinned. "That's better."

He came to a stop. Light was creeping out under the door into the hallway, painting your pointe-toe kitten heels a warm shade of Amber.

Sirius opened the door, nudging you inside.

It was like a time machine, though everyone was much better dressed. It may as well have been a seventh year party with all your favourite people, though the amount of alcohol was lower and the amount of kids surprisingly higher. Wow, people have been getting busy, you thought. There were more people than you could count but thankfully you knew or knew of almost everyone there.

"Y/N!" Marlene cheered, half straddling the arm of the sofa where Remus and Peter sat.

"Hi," you said, greeting the few who'd turned to look at you.

Lily nodded at you, dressed in an ankle-length evening gown with a beaded bodice and spaghetti straps, a saturated blue that complimented her cool, red hair. James was busy trying to persuade a half-crawling Harry from eating his own socked feet, his shirt untucked, suit jacket discarded.

Following Sirius' lead, Peter had forgone a traditional jacket for a leather jacket. You grinned at him.

You weren't sure where Remus' outerwear was, distracted by the sight of his lean forearms clearly displayed by his rolled up sleeves. He was watching you assess the room.

You gravitated to him without thinking, taking the seat opposite whilst Marlene was motivated by Sirius' return to find somewhere else to be.

"Hi, boys," you said, still nervous.

"Hi, Y/N," Peter said. He was staring over your shoulder at a gaggle of girls who'd been in Ravenclaw when you were at school. One was smiling shyly at him.

"Evening," Remus said.

"Be right back," Peter mumbled. Remus rolled his eyes and you both watched him steel his nerves and approach the woman he'd been eyeing.

"You look great!" you said, perhaps too loudly.

He smiled at you. "So do you. I haven't seen you so dressed up since the wedding."

James and Lily's, he meant. You looked back fondly at the memory. He'd been exhausted, a shocking red cut trailing from his ear down into his neckline. He'd been ecstatic anyways.

"That seems so long ago now."

"It does! Even longer since school. Time's moving so fast."

"It's kind of nice. There was a time where I couldn't imagine anything but school," you said, shocking yourself with unexpected honesty.

"I know what you mean.”

"You do?"

"Sure. I didn't think I'd live past my first year."

You frowned. He'd always been so ill, so sick. Often relapsing and spending days away from everyone.

"I'm sorry," you said, sympathetic.

"Oh, don't be. I had everyone and everything I needed. I couldn't ask for more."

You smiled at him, happy for his happiness.

He laughed, "Godric, that got serious quickly. What are you drinking?"

"Oh, I'm not. Lest we forget what drunk me achieved at every other house party."

"I like drunk you - she's very honest."

You covered your eyes with the back of your forearm, groaning. "Don't remind me."

"Hey, we might not be friends if you didn't tell Sirius how you felt."

"You make it sound like I was in love with him."

"Having dreams where he's your big brother isn't much better."

You cringed. "One dream! He has a very brotherly vibe about him..." you defended yourself.

You dropped your arm, meeting his crinkled eyes. "He doted on me heavily after that."

"Didn't he just! When Perkins stood you up at the three Broomsticks in sixth year-"

"He had detention for 5 weeks," you sighed.

"I'd never seen Minnie so angry."

"It's nice to remember these things," you said.

It probably wasn't any secret that since Hogwarts had ended you'd been incredibly lonely. Your friends had their own lives now, you had yours. It was just... emptier. Going from seeing these people every day to only at weddings and parties was a change that left a yawning gap in your chest.

"Do you miss school?" you asked him.

"I do. Not the exams. But I miss Gryffindor common room and the courtyards and sneaking out. It's not as fun going for a midnight snack in your own home."

"Mm," you probed the roof of our mouth with your tongue. "Everything's changed."

"Not us. Not you. You're just as lovely."

"And you're still ridiculously nice," you deflected, blushing.

"I'm not being nice. I'm being honest."

"They do say I'm the prettiest Mckinnon," you joked.

"Yes, you are."

He said it in such a steady voice you felt your stomach twinge. He's seducing me. I'm being seduced.

"Y/N!" James cheered, a half sleeping Harry in his hands. He had dribble all down his front. "Hold darling Harry for me, would you?"

You held out your arms with little protest.

He was heavier than you expected him to be, cooing at his little pleasant face in delight. James didn't waste any time, spinning on his heel to find a new shirt, you thought. You held Harry close to your chest in awe. He was so big and so small. He babbled, a little disgruntled from being passed to you. You swayed him so slowly it hardly registered. It surprised you that he could be so calm in such a loud room.

He was watching you in baby puzzlement, as if to say, I know you, but I don't. You've held me before, but not many times.

His small hand reached for your hair. You let him, despite his surprising strength, it didn't hurt.

"So mean," you murmured. "I bet you don't pull your mummy's hair."

His pulling made it so that the clips in your hair came free, sliding out of place. The hair that usually framed your face came down from its restraints and fell in your eyes.

"Here," Remus said.

He was on his feet, rounding the sofa to collect your hair in gentle hands. He pulled an elastic from his pocket and tied it up in a loose ponytail with such careful, delicate movements. You shivered at the feeling of his hands in your hair, his index finger gracing the soft skin of your neck.

"Thank you," you said, half turning your face to offer him a grateful smile. He tucked the last loose strands behind your ear.

"Good as new."

Harry gurgled. You pushed the dark hair from his face tenderly.

"So strange to think he came from James and Lily," you whispered.

"What's that supposed to mean?" a voice said in your ear. Remus was leaning his forearms on the back of the sofa, close to your side. Though he was talking to you he was staring at Harry.

"Nothing like that... just. They love each other and now there's a person I have to use both arms to hold that shows that."

Remus didn't reply. You rocked Harry, whispering gibberish back at him everytime he babbled. He nodded off in no time at all.

"Come on, I'll get you a drink. Anything in particular?"

"Water is fine," you told Remus, careful not to move too much.

He disappeared into the crowd in no time. From where you sat, you could see Frank Longbottom rocking with an unhappy baby, his wife Alice watching with something close to adoration in her eyes. Melinda Donavan was dancing shamelessly with her girlfriend Emmaline Vance next to the windows, though shy Emma seemed much less willing.

Lily and Peter were sequestered to the side, Peter looking positively downtrodden. His advance couldn't have gone well.

Sirius was suspiciously absent, as was James. Perhaps he hadn't intended to change his shirt at all.

Your friends from school, Poppy and Guenivere, were half way across the world, and hadn't been able to make it home for Christmas this year. You missed them, feeling a little envious that they'd shot off without you.

You felt forlorn, suddenly. When tonight was over, you might not see everyone again for a long while. James or Sirius didn't mind if you popped around for tea at your leisure, and Poppy was very attentive at sending you weekly letters.

But it wasn't the same as belonging to somebody. Feeling needed.

"Oh, Harry," you whispered. "You're so lucky. And so cute."

A little while later you found yourself sipping on your glass of water, Sirius and Moony beside you, bantering. Baby Harry slept on the sofa next to you in a makeshift bed of pillows that made you nervous. Lily assured you he was safe enough, never wriggled and was happy to have him back from you whenever you wanted.

To tell the truth, you weren't sure you ever wanted to give him back. Especially as someone who'd never had to change him or wake up to his cries in the middle of the night.

Lily was dancing with James in the middle of the room surrounded by your peers. It was easy to spot them, her stunning long legs and gorgeous red hair, his long, lean frame and handsome, cutting face.

They were like supermodels.

You felt a little silly in your slip, prodding the curve of your tummy with a pointed, painted fingernail. Your hair was falling out of the bobble Remus had tied around it. You took the tie out to run your hands through it, pulling the hair away from your face and scraping it into a tighter ponytail.

Sirius was recounting a funny story from his British road trip, laughing before he'd finished his own jokes. His and Remus' knees were pressed together familiarly.

He was trying his best to include you in the conversation despite your distracted demeanour tonight.

"Well, that's if you can believe it."

"I can," Remus said dryly.

Sirius howled like it was the funniest thing anyone had ever said. You fought a smile.

“Oh hey, it’s that dame from Beauxbatons… What was her name?” Sirius asked, nodding subtly to the left.

“Two things, you can’t call women dames. This isn’t the forties,” James said, appearing from nowhere. It was so sudden it forced a laugh out of you. Remus grinned at you.

“And her name is Thalia. Be nice to her, she’s Lily’s pen pal,” James finished.

“I’m going to be very nice to her.”

“Boo!” you protested. “You corn dog.”

He only smirked and flounced off to bother her. She was insanely pretty, feminine and slender with perfectly curled hair and clear, tanned skin.

“She’s pretty,” you said.

“She is,” Remus agreed.

“Not as scrumptious as you, shortcake,” James said, ruffling your hair. “You look different tonight. Haircut?”

“Nothing I can think of.”

“Do you want a haircut? I’ve been practicing a new spell.”

“Absolutely not.”

James pouted. “No one ever lets me practice. How will I get good at these niche spells?”

“You could practice on yourself?” Remus suggested.

James gasped. “And risk my perfect swoop? Go to hell, Moony.”

“Where’s your keeper?” Remus asked, mock condescending.

“She’s gone to ask mum something. Not,” he said pointedly, turning from you both and shouting over his shoulder, “that that concerns you, dickhead.”

“You’re in his bad books.”

“Till he gets bored. Ten minutes tops.”

“What will you do with those precious ten minutes?”

“I haven’t decided yet. Could travel, see the world. Might sit down and write a book.”

“I wouldn’t recommend that,” you said, tone full of ire. You tilted your head, neck bared, to stare at the ceiling.

“It’s not going well?”

“It’s okay. My uh, my agent likes the second draft. We’re looking at publishing houses now but it’s - a long process-” you struggled to find the right words, “-people aren’t interested in contemporary right now. Muggle’s love magic and science fiction, surprisingly.”

“I guess it makes sense. Magic isn’t as interesting to those of us that use it everyday.”

You nodded. “But get this - they love werewolves and vampires. There’s a whole sub-genre of like, werewolf boyfriend fiction.”

Remus stiffened next to you. You turned inquisitively.

“That’s bizarre. Don’t they think werewolves are dangerous?”

“I guess they do,” you conceded. “But it’s just like real werewolves, right? Just because they’re dangerous doesn’t mean they’re evil.”

He smiled at you in a way you couldn’t describe. Almost gratefully. You smiled back.

“I think I’d quite like a werewolf boyfriend. Settle down, have his puppies, watch him fight all the other werewolves off.”

“Werewolves don’t usually fight other werewolves.”

“No?” you asked.

“No,” he said, as though he were an expert. He probably was. Remus always knew something if you didn’t, or at least he had in school.

“That’s too bad. How will I know he truly loves me if he’s not willing to fight to the death for me?”

“I never pegged you as someone with delusions of grandeur.”

“Delusions! You’re so mean, Remus.”

“You can call me Moony, if you’d like.”

“Moony,” you tested the word out. “I never understood that nickname. I’ll keep calling you Remus, if you don’t mind. It’s a nice name.”

“It’s an obscure inside joke, I’m afraid. And it would take a while to explain.”

“That’s okay,” you said pleasantly, righting yourself. You turned to peer at little sleeping Harry. He was flat on his back, dozing without a care in the world.

“Aw, Remus. Everytime I look at him I get a little bit jealous,” you said, voice barely above a whisper. “Maybe I’m just close to my period.”

“He is charming.”

“He’s everything.” You leaned dramatically into his chest behind you. “Cute little baby. Hey, you wanna have kids with me?” you asked him, mostly joking. “I’m not sure what my children would look like, but yours would be ridiculously cute.”

When he spoke, you could feel his chest vibrate. “It might take a few goes. A practice run’s required, don’t you think?”

You took a few seconds to process what he was saying.

“You’re definitely trying to seduce me,” you said quietly.

“Is it working?”

“We need a babysitter,” you said, in lieu of a yes.

“Yeah, I’ll take him,” Peter said. You and Remus did a double-take, finding him sat at the table behind you drinking a lemonade with a morose expression. “Go fuck, or whatever.”

“Are you sure, Pete?” Remus asked. You were too embarrassed at being overheard to form words.

“Oh please, as if I’ve anything else to do tonight.”

A long and heart pounding traipse to an empty guest room later, you found yourself in the lap of one Remus Lupin. It had started respectably enough at first, which is to say, with a kiss that made you feel like you were weightless.

“Who taught you how to kiss like that?” you asked, breathing hard. He kissed a stripe up your neck whilst you caught your breath.

“The answer may horrify you.”

“Sirius?”

“How’d you know?”

“James told me all about it.”

“Oh he did, did he?” His hand was creeping down from your neck, ghosting over the straps of your dress and down, pausing inches above the rising valley of your chest.

“Can you touch me instead of teasing?” you pleaded.

“I can do both,” he laughed.

Finally his hand slipped down, under the cowl neck of your dress, to press against your heaving chest.

How he could kiss at your neck with deadly precision, finding every sweet spot you never knew you had, whilst simultaneously performing the most masterful ministrations under your dress was anyone’s guess. What factory had they made him in?

You said as much, giggling.

He pressed a hot kiss to your mouth in response.

“I liked how we were sat before, didn’t you? Here,” he said, leaning against the headboard. “Turn around.”

You did, curiously, pressing your back to his chest. He gripped the outer sides of your thighs, lifting you flush against him in an attractive display of strength.

“I knew as soon as I saw this dress I wanted to take it off you. But I can wait. After all, you look so good in it.”

It wasn’t what he was saying, it was how. It was the fact that Remus, intelligent, pensive Remus was saying it.

You struggled to speak. He kissed you chastely on your temple.

“Are you sure you want this?” he asked.

“I’m sure. Are you?”

“Mm. We can stop whenever you want.”

“Okay, handsome,” you said, apprehension colouring your voice.

Wordlessly, he traced a line up your bare thigh, the fabric of your dress pushed up from the move, till his hand rested at the bottom of your stomach. His other hooked under your knee, pulling your one leg up, up, exposing your centre. If anyone were to enter the room, they would find you in a compromising position.

You pushed your heel into the mattress to keep your leg elevated, even though Remus continued to hold it up.

He pushed his hand down, index and middle finger coming to find your clit through the fabric of your underwear with an expert ease. You gasped in happiness.

“There you are,” he said, hushed. He set a steady, circular motion, laughing every time you struggled to breathe properly. The slither of fabric separating his touch from your skin was dampening alarmingly quickly.

“That’s cute,” he said, mouth pressed to your neck.

“Is it?” you asked, breathless.

He pulled his two fingers apart, sliding the bud of your clit between his fingertips. You moaned without thinking, your legs closing on instinct.

He pulled your legs open again, none too gently, tutting.

“Teasing,” you protested.

“You like it. I can tell,” he said, pushing your underwear to one side.

He rubbed a circle around your entrance, spreading slick. “Physical evidence,” he said. He pushed in the tip of his finger slowly. The initial stretch was always the strangest feeling, though you were wet enough to enjoy it thoroughly.

He stopped, pulled out. You whined.

“Shhh,” he placated. His middle finger went back in, first knuckle, then second. You gasped. Your knees wobbled.

Out. He released your knee and it leaned back in automatically. The hand that wasn’t fucking you went under the hemline of your dress and up, silk shift gathering around his wrist. He massaged the supple skin of your breast.

One finger became two. He knew exactly what he was doing, curling inside you and touching a sweet spot relentlessly. He was steady, maintaining a pace that wasn’t fast or slow.

You were gasping, hitching, mewling sounds that had him hard against your back. You grinned at that.

He pulled out completely, rubbing a slick circle into your clit.

“Lift your hips?”

You did. He pulled your underwear free and tossed it gently to the side. You were sliding down slowly, back starting to be more against the bed than his front, the feeling of his erection poking into your shoulder blades. You shifted your arms just to listen to his breathing change.

You were a mess, leaking wet on the sheets, moisture collecting in your lashes from the stimulation.

He was performing a tantalizing move wherein he fingerfucked you deeply and rubbed your clit at the same time, almost bringing about your end prematurely.

“Oh my god,” you said, shutting your legs in a fruitless attempt at warning him.

“Feel good?”

You gasped, closing your eyes against the overwhelming sensation. You came hard, walls constricting around him. He chuckled, the sound music to your ears, only laughing more when his continued ministrations had you gripping his leg with a white-knuckled grip.

It was a blistering orgasm, as they went.

You turned in his lap, pulling his face down to kiss him, easy as though you’d done it a hundred times before. “Oh, you liked that, huh?” he asked against your lips.

“So unkind,” you said. You reached down between you both to palm his dick where it strained in his slacks. It was his turn to moan.

He smiled at you, pulling your hand from his erection to hold it tightly in his . “Don’t try to finish me before I’m inside you, please.”

He pulled you flat on your back, crawling to kneel between your legs.

“Your cunt is so pretty,” he said, reaching forward to finger you again, wrist turned to the ceiling.

“You talk to all your girls like that?” you said, strangled.

“Only ones with cunts like yours,” he said. He unzipped his trousers, pushing them down with his boxers just enough to free himself. His dick was long, curved, and surprisingly wide. Your pupils were blown.

He adjusted your dress so that your breasts were out, leaning forward to kiss your chest affectionately. The tops of his thighs pressed to the back of yours, splaying you open. You could feel your entrance gaped, a line of wet dripping down. Remus used his hand to rub his dick up the line, wetting his head. He rubbed your entrance and clit, thrusting against you without entering.

You whimpered. He watched your face, using his free hand to cradle your cheek.

You grinned. He lined up, fucking into you with controlled, shallow thrusts. You stretched around him slowly. Only when he bottomed out did he increase his force, thrusting so deeply your body rocked into the mattress and sprung back up.

“How does that feel, sweetheart?”

“Good,” you whimpered, gripping the backs of his thighs. You couldn’t quite reach.

“Good? Like this?” he asked, breaking his rhythm to drop into you. Your whole body rocked.

“Oh,” you moaned, scrunching your eyes shut. “Again?”

He did this many, many times. The sounds you were making only spurred him on, as though every gasp were an encouragement. You grasped his face with trembling fingers, the way he kissed you enough to make you moan into his mouth.

He paused his thrusts and you protested, wriggling your back, trying to fuck yourself on him. He found this endlessly amusing.

“Please… please.”

It was enough. He took his hand between you both to rub your clit, though his motions were imprecise and sloppy, your slick making it hard to find purchase. His thrusts slowly fell out of rhythm, his only aim to penetrate you as deeply as possible.

You could barely think, stretches of silence filled with your heavy breathing. You struggled to hold your legs up, instead finding them pushed up with every time Remus moved forward. If he minded, he didn’t say anything.

He found your g-spot quickly, perceptive of your disrupted moans each time he hit it. It was a sweet torture, enduring him.

You wanted him to cum before your second, clenching down around him everytime he pulled out. You were unraveling quickly. You moved your hips in loose circles, trying to relieve him of all the work.

“Cum in me?”

“You want me to?”

“Please, Remus.”

He threaded his fingers through yours, arms pressed tightly together between your bodies. He leaned heavily into you and you could feel the whole weight of him behind his last thrust. He came inside you, thrusting wildly. He kept going long enough to dedicate himself to your clit, thumb moving up and down till your head spun. You seized up, your arm tight around his neck, pushing his face into your chest. He chuckled, nipping at the sensitive skin if your nipple.

Only after it stopped did you realise how illicit the sound of him fucking you had been. You blushed, grateful your face was buried in his hair. You blinked away tears from the intensity of your second orgasm. Your stomach felt like it was alight.

He pulled out, leaning back on his haunches, rubbing out what was left of his cum. It dripped obscenely down his fist. You felt the mixture of your cum leaking out and running down your aching legs which you set on the bed, sickly pleased when they shook.

“You’re a dream,” he said. “A fucking dream.”

You turned your face to the side and covered your mouth, your pleased smile.

“When I said to fuck Moony, I didn’t mean in my house,” James said the next day, where you’d gathered for tea and buns in godric’s hollow.

“You didn’t specify,” you said lightly, peering at him over the rim of your cup of coffee.

“I did not ever think I needed to.”

Remus’ hand was comforting on your shoulder. “You definitely should’ve.”

James frowned. “God, I can’t even look at you both. Stop smiling. This is an infringement of my human rights. We were literally downstairs while you were canoodling.”

“Fucking.”

“Bah! I regret encouraging this.”

“Be fair, James. We would’ve eventually,”

“We would’ve?” you asked.

“In that dress? Definitely.”

James gagged. “Get a grip, Moony, before you break the hearts of all your casual lovers.”

Remus shrugged. “It can’t be helped.”

You hid your pleased expression with a well timed sip.

“What’s your objective? Marriage?”

“Puppies,” Remus remarked.

James shot tea through his nose in shock, though you didn’t know what was so funny.

my masterlist <3

4K notes · View notes