gloriousdreamerland - Tumblr blog

gloriousdreamerland · 2 days

Text

Red.

Remus Lupin x fem!reader

"I'd rather not see you at all."

"You'd miss me."

based on a request.

warnings: banter, probably fluff, my writing

8.1k

author's note: i dont know how i feel about this but enjoy. english is not my first language so beware <3

You stood on your feet, staring dead into the brown eyes before you. You weren't even aware of your frown, but you were sure you didn't look happy. His mocking eyes were eliciting you, sending waves of rage down your chest.

"How about you two sit together?" James asked, smiling with his eyes.

You reminded yourself that your anger wasn't aimed at James but rather at his tall and vexatious friend. Thus, instead of snapping at him, you sent him a mere warning glare.

"Or you can just fight. That'll work," James shrugged and turned around.

Your eyes averted back to Remus, who had slouched behind your desk–the same desk you had been sitting behind for years.

"That is my seat, Lupin."

He didn't budge at all, keeping on staring at you.

"I didn't see your name on it."

You pinched the bridge of your nose. This boy was going to be the end of you.

"Remus," you said, "I've sat there last year and the year before that, please go find yourself another desk."

"It's a new school year, though, is it not? Make a change."

He must be testing your patience, which was at its limit. The lesson was about to start and yet you were still on your feet.

You blamed Remus for that.

The desk he had been resting behind was yours. You didn't need to write your name on it, everyone knew it was yours. For six years of Transfiguration, you had been sitting there, listening or sometimes disturbing the class with James and Sirius. It had a nice view of the board and could hide you well if needed.

Thus, you had always sat behind Pads and Prongs while Remus sat…

Well, you didn't know where he sat, but it was definitely not next to you.

"Miss Y/L/N, sit down please."

You closed your eyes for a moment when you heard Professor McGonagall's stern tone. With a quick glance around, it was obvious that you were the only one standing. So after a sharp exhale, you sat down next to Remus.

"Wanker."

Remus let out a derisive hum.

This. This was what would drive you crazy. This was what would make you want to strangle the boy, burn the body and get away with murder. That mocking, jeering and pleased hum.

James and Sirius would always tease you for not getting along with one person that anyone could get along with. Always fighting and bantering with one person that anyone could have a proper conversation with.

The problem was that they weren't exactly wrong.

You always witnessed how Remus was kind and gentle with everyone, rendering it absolutely impossible to bicker with him. He would smile and nod, easing his way out of every dilemma. He wouldn't pick a fight, and certainly wouldn't provoke anyone.

Except you.

With you, he was acting like a moronic person. Or that's what you thought.

When you were little, he would pull your braids in the mornings, but would mumble a quick 'I liked your hair today' in the evenings.

When you were famished for breakfast, he would grab the last waffle before you could, leaving you frowning with an aching hunger, but then leave bars of chocolate on your books during class breaks.

When you would be studying with the Marauders and couldn't cast a spell, he would smirk and mock your ineptness but would seek you out before the exam and explain how to move your wrist better than any professor could.

He would never disrespect you, but wouldn't let you stay sane throughout the day, either.

Lost between his inconsistent behaviours, you would find yourself confused, overthinking every tiny interaction to fathom if he cared for you or not. You would often decide on the latter.

For the sake of the other boys, you would ignore his gall and cheekiness. Although you had moments of outbursts, which would eventually lead to a bigger fight, you had managed to keep the problem under control so far.

"Miss, Y/L/N?"

You jerked your head up, finding the source of your name. McGonagall was piercing through you with her icy eyes, almost judging you for not listening, without voicing anything.

"Yes, professor?"

"Answer the question."

What question?

She asked a question?

You parted your lips, shuffling useless facts or overlooked memories in your mind to stumble upon the right one.

You felt one second drew out to one minute, or maybe it was simply your anxiety. Embarrassment was making its way under your skin with every second- or minute?

You were starting to sweat as your body was on fire.

"Levicorpus," Remus whispered under his mouth.

Not wasting a second, you repeated the word, earning a nod from the Professor. She turned away, carrying on with the lesson.

"What was the question?" you asked the boy. He didn’t bother to look at you.

"Pay attention next time."

“James, it’s a terrible, horrible, and incredibly foolish idea.”

You were dawdling around in the yard, enjoying the weather while you could. With the chill breeze mingling around your hair, nothing could ruin your peace. That is until the Marauders entered the scene.

“Exactly. That’s why we should do it.”

Being friends with James and Sirius was hard, especially if you’re the only one with common sense. Who would believe making a firework explosion in the middle of the Great Hall would earn them a ball to celebrate Christmas?

James and Sirius.

“We need to call Dumbledore’s attention. Bring it right up to the headmaster, or it won’t work,” Sirius backed up his friend. You ignored Remus’s scoff-like laugh.

“Your worry is that if you bomb up the Great Hall in front of any other professor except Dumbledore you won’t get a ball?”

“See, now you’re getting it-”

“What makes you think you will get a ball?”

James stopped walking, put his hands on each side of his waist in disappointment, and frowned.

“Now, you’re just repeating Moony.”

You glanced at Remus, who was staring at you with blank and tired eyes. This boy really needed to sleep, but that was another day’s problem. Your eyes lingered a bit longer on his attire before returning to James; tawny jumper with black lines and ivory trousers under a pastel orange trench coat.

“Rare moment of your Moony using his common sense,” you shrugged. “You know you’ll get a huge detention, right?”

“What else is new?” James smirked. “Are you gonna help us?”

The prospect of a ball during Christmas did entertain you. Fancy dresses and music, all while carousing with your friends was something no teenager would reject. And you knew if things wouldn’t go as planned, Marauders wouldn’t acknowledge your involvement; that was an agreement between the four boys even Remus had honoured. So you agreed to help them.

They made you regret it a few moments later in the Gryffindor common room.

“I’m not working with Remus.” you shook your head intently, wearing a displeased expression.

“Oh come on! Why not?” James pleaded. “You two are the best at Charms! You just need to figure out how to charm the fireworks to act how we want them to. Pete will get them and hide them, while Pads and I will handle transforming them into letters.”

“Because last time we worked on something together, it blew right in our faces.” you point at Remus with your hand. “I got zero when I could’ve got the best point available.”

“Wasn’t the potion perfect? Professor gave you a zero because you wouldn’t stop bickering,” Peter said. “It was very distracting.”

You cringed at the memory. Your hard work had held no value only for a little (or not so little) quarrel with your partner. The only nice outcome was that they rarely partnered you two together anymore.

Remus was slouched on the couch, legs apart with one hand placed on his thigh, while the other held a book. He lowered his book to look at your discontented face.

“I’m not happy about it either, yet you don’t see me whinging.”

You winced at him in aversion.

“I’d rather not see you at all.”

“You’d miss me,” he tilted his head, wearing a feigned smile.

James clapped his hands to prevent another incoming tiff.

“Alright, you two will start your research when you see fit and keep us updated. Don’t drag it out until November though, it’s a bit of a complicated matter.”

By the time a month had passed, you had figured that irritation was like a bunch of thorns piercing through your skin thanks to Remus. You had also learned that you can murder someone by spoon, but why would anyone bother themselves with shoving the spoon down Remus’s throat?

Therefore, you had been sitting with Remus every week, halting yourself from stabbing him with your quill. He wasn’t helping you out at all.

“Stop hitting my arm,” you whisper-shouted once more. Was Remus Lupin thick-headed? He didn’t look like it, so he probably just enjoyed getting a reaction out of you.

“What is your arm’s business next to mine? Sit properly.”

“Remus, If you haven’t noticed, you’re tall–”

“Thank you.”

“I didn’t mean it as a compliment, shut up,” your head snapped in his direction, facing his smug grin. “You’re taking much more space than me.”

“Well, sorry for you.”

“You’re distracting me from my studies.”

“You’re doodling right now,” he pointed to the paper before you with his brows. “And miserably failing, if I may add.”

“No, you may not–”

“Is that supposed to be a rabbit?” he inclined his head an inch more to the paper. You smelled his shampoo from his hair, crisp and woodsy and; the brown locks were so close you wanted to run your hand through them to see if they were real.

“That’s clearly a cat.”

“Why does your cat have two paws?”

“She’s sitting!”

“You really suck at this,” he propped his head back, offering you a pitiful look.

“Oh, and you’re rocking?”

“Ten points from Gryffindor, Miss Y/L/N,” you flinched at your name from McGonagall.

“But professor, Lupin–”

“One more distraction and I will make it twenty.”

You clenched your jaw shut and lowered your head, letting embarrassment swallow you whole as all Gryffindor students sent you scrutinising glares. Of course, you would be the unlucky one that would get picked by the professor, not Remus, who was provoking you in the first place.

So, until the end of the class, you kept your head low and zoned out with your doodles.

You drew a circle, but it was more like a sun in your mind. Or the moon. You didn’t remember.

You drew ears for the moon, and it seemed like two triangles stuck to a circle, but you didn’t mind that either.

You even took some notes of the lesson but then you scribbled something that’s supposed to be a lamp or a cactus on them, so they weren’t very readable in the end.

You only snapped out of it when the unusual noise rioted, signalling that the class was dismissed. You had spent an hour doing nothing; an amazing use of time.

Remus pushed a parchment on your art pieces, covering them. You didn’t see what was scrawled on the parchment as Remus’s hand had blocked the ink.

“I do rock,” he said before heading out of the classroom.

You stared after him as he disappeared behind the door. You thought he would be in the library as you lifted the parchment.

It was a sketch of you from the side.

You took the red velvet cookie in your hand, examining it for any trace of poison. They seemed perfectly fine, delicious even. What was troubling you was that they were a treat from James. Thus, there was no way you could get good-looking, appetising, tasty cookies without a headache.

“Have you two started your research?”

That was it. You had a headache.

Therefore, you deserved the cookies. You took three of them in your hand and threw yourself next to Sirius. You turned to lock eyes with Remus, all while nibbling on your sweet.

You noticed him looking at you and then your hands and then...your lips? You immediately pushed the thought deep into your mind, not indulging it even a second. No, he was probably staring at the cookie next to your lips.

Unconsciously, you put the sweet down and arched a brow at him.

“Not yet,” he said without breaking eye contact with you.

You heard James groan and used it as an excuse to avert your eyes, but you could still feel his brown gaze set your body aflame. You couldn’t quite figure out if it was his hatred or something else that you refused to voice that was burning through you. You didn’t dwell on it.

“You’re waiting for Christmas Eve to do it?”

“Prongs is right, Pick a time and do your homework, lads,” Sirius agreed. “Pete is done already.”

“It’s hard to mentally prepare yourself for Remus,” you said, mouth half full.

“Don’t talk your mouth full, it’s disgusting.”

“You haven’t seen yourself eating, have you?”

“Here we go again,” James complained. “Just go to the bloody library and find the spells, will ya?”

Remus stood up, and strode up next to you, towering over you. You stared at him like he was a crazy person, which he was in your opinion.

“Let’s go,” he said.

“Now?”

“Yes, you have things to do?”

You didn’t have things to do. In fact, your only to-do list for today was eating red velvet cookies. That’s why you didn’t know why you were hesitant to go and be alone with Remus. You didn’t know why your heart started to pick a race, either.

“I’m…” You looked around, seeking an excuse that you knew didn’t exist. “Eating cookies?”

Remus grabbed the cookie jar. “You’ll eat them on our way to the library.”

All four boys were looking at you expectantly, so you hopped on your feet. You didn’t bother to take the jar from Remus.

“Don’t sulk, Y/N, it’s for the greater good!” You heard Sirius call after you.

You exited the common room, went down the stairs and hastened to the library. You didn’t look back for Remus; you knew he was there. You could feel his presence.

You didn’t question how he had managed to get the cookie jar in when you entered the library and he placed it on a table. You simply turned to the books, chasing their titles with your finger.

“What are we exactly looking for?”

“Something that will charm the fireworks to act how we want,” Remus mumbled, too focused on the book titles. You noticed him examining the shelves that you had passed because of your height. It both irritated and tingled you the way he effortlessly could reach the top shelves.

“And how do we want them to act?”

“Fly around in order, not the way they fly around usually.”

You hummed and didn’t engage in anything more. Taking a cookie from the jar, you started reading and digging into all sorts of books.

How to charm your brush to comb your hair?

Not the one you've been looking for but sounded nice, you should look it up some other time.

Charms to take revenge on the ones that wronged you.

Would Remus get suspicious if you picked that one? You should look that one up too, next time.

Charms for cheating in the exam.

Why did a school shelter a book like this?

Charms for celebrations.

You smiled, looking up at the red-covered book. If there was a celebration, then there certainly would be fireworks.

You stretched out your hand to take the book, but your fingers only brushed its spine.

You climbed on your tiptoes, trying again. This time you could feel the engraved title letters on the spine. But other than that, to no avail.

A heft and warmth, that didn’t belong to you, stroke your body. Your skin reacted faster than you did. You felt the surge of an unfamiliar heat and shivers under your skin, unable to fathom the hand on your hand.

You turned your head back, almost bumping it into Remus's chin. He wasn't looking at you, but you could see his clenched jaw and stiffened shoulders. The close proximity was suffocating, or maybe your breath had hitched. Either way, you held your breath.

Remus grabbed the red book, stepped back and started skimming it.

"You're starting,” he said.

It took you longer than usual to react to him.

"I found the book first," you said after recovering from the sudden and uncharacteristic surge of heat. You hoped your face wasn't flustered.

"Why didn't you take it first then?"

He was mocking your height difference, and it didn’t annoy you this time. It did, however, make you conscious of your heart’s rhythm.

"I was close. You interrupted me."

Remus looked up from the book, a teasing smile gleaming on his lips.

"The only thing you were close to was hitting your head on the shelf."

You frown, being absolutely free of his previous effect on you. You snatched the book out of his hand and sat behind the table. You didn't raise your head when Remus stood in front of you and over your head, with his arms placed on the table.

You focused on the ink, forgetting Remus’s suffocating presence. That’s why you didn’t want to be left alone with him.

After a few minutes and lines or pages, your eyes twinkled with mischief. Two pages of instruction on different ways of charming fireworks.

"Found it."

The easy part was done.

You let Remus take the book from you. He read the page with a wrinkle between his brows and nodded after finishing it.

“We’ll have to start practising it soon.”

“Have some pity, I exceeded my weekly tolerance of you, today,” you murmured. “I can’t spend any more time with you.”

“And what made you think that I enjoyed our time together?” Remus stepped a bit back and leaned into a shelf.

You parted your lips and then closed them again. Time had gone rather unproblematic with Remus today, and ended without a headache. It was almost...boring.

“You never even once did something to annoy me.”

His lips curved, eyes gleaming in amusement.

“Do you want me to annoy you?”

You hated the teasing in his tone. Something between confusion and disclosure hit you in the gut, goosebumps rose in your arm as a response to your fluttering heart.

“What? No, why would I–”

“Do you enjoy bickering with me, Y/N?”

“I don’t!"

“You sure? Sometimes it sounds like you’re picking fights with me on purpose.”

“You flatter yourself, Lupin,” you laughed, a bit awkwardly. He was smiling now, one step away from smirking. You noticed you rarely saw him smile this big around you. It was beautiful.

“Just like you said, I wasn’t the one annoying you today. You started it.”

You felt the temperature rise in your body, embracing you without your consent. You didn’t appreciate the way he threw the accusations at you or the way his eyes wrinkled adorably when he beamed.

“You’re not the only one hating the other.”

Your lips uttered the words but you didn’t hear yourself. You were too busy to stare at his changing expressions. His smile ebbed a little, but not enough to wipe the soft wrinkles around his eyes. He walked up to you, excruciatingly slow, looming over you. You watched his eyes rambling between your eyes, and even travelling to your lips, too. Your eyes, however, stayed only on the brown orbs, sorting out every layer, every colour, every blemish one by one.

“I don’t hate you,” you heard him drawl.

Before you could take in what he murmured, his face changed into something else. You fathomed it from the twitch in his jaw and his faltering blinks.

“You’re just annoying,” he said as if recovering his tone.

He stepped back, eyes lingering on your lips for one more second before turning away. You bit down your lips as you watched him exit the library.

“I brought candles,” you announced, tossing the candles to the wooden floor. They made an uncomfortably loud thud on the ground, causing you to grimace in displeasure.

“Yes, please make sure to break all of them. Don’t leave one unharmed,” you rolled your eyes at Remus’s cynical voice in the other corner of the Requirement Room.

You two have been visiting there to learn the charm of the fireworks every week. For two weeks, you had been working with the sticks and had mastered them. Thus, it was time to finally alter the sticks with candles, something that resembled a firework according to Sirius. They didn’t want to work on fireworks, it would be a waste for James.

“They’re fine. Don’t be dramatic,” you said to him as he walked up to you, glancing at the candles on the floor.

You felt him squat down, grabbing a white candle. He showed you a crack on it that wasn’t there before.

“It was there before.”

“Yeah, sure,” he grinned. “What’s with the colours?”

You shrugged. Why choose only white candles when you could have red and yellow and purple and pink also?

“Don’t mind the colours. Let’s start.”

Remus lit a candle as you took out your wand. He placed it on a chair, and stepped back, waiting for you to cast the spell.

When you first muttered the incantation, nothing happened.

You tried again, this time more fiercely both in your spelling and movements.

Nothing happened, The candle was sitting on the chair, mocking you with its flame. You were sure Remus was also repeating the same internally.

“You’re too hesitant to bend your wrist,” he said.

You didn’t hear any teasing in his voice but still cringed in embarrassment.

“You won’t put out the candle if you bend your wrist a bit hard, Y/N. Stop hesitating,” he said again.

You tried once more, despite the sweat forming on your temple from anxiety.

With sticks, it was easy. Say the spell, bend the wrist and aim the wand.

With candles, you were afraid you would mess it up somehow; maybe put out the fire or even start a bigger fire. It was a fire, after all, it was dangerous.

When you failed again, Remus made his way to you, standing only a step away behind you.

You felt his breath behind your neck as he closed that one step, laying his body onto yours. You didn’t manage to ask him what he was doing, you didn’t need to. Your heart dropped when he put his hand on yours, lifting it in the air. He aimed it towards the candle, but you were too out of it to apprehend.

Your whole body was focused on his skin on yours, savouring his touch on you without your permission. Suddenly, you didn’t think the sweat was from anxiety. You didn’t think your heartbeats were from embarrassment. You didn’t think your whole body was aflame because you were conscious of your ineptness.

You knew what it was. You knew what it was that set fires in the core of your chest, grasped the air from your lungs, and took the strength in your muscles away.

But you didn’t acknowledge it.

You let Remus move your arm, copying the instructions. You let him brush your hand with his fingers. You let him show you how to bend your wrist all while his hand on yours. You let him whisper the incantation in your ear.

You felt the void around your fingers when he withdrew his hand and his body from yours.

“Go on,” he said, so low you wouldn’t hear him if you weren’t holding your breath.

You aimed the wand, bent your wrist, and cast the spell.

The candle rose to the air, attracting a few candles to itself and lighting them up.

“Attagirl. My turn."

You said nothing as you stepped away, letting Remus place himself in front of the chair. You lighted another candle for him and put it on the chair.

You watched him take a stance and aim his wand. You didn’t know if it was because of his stance or his long legs or arms, but he looked…handsome.

He looked handsome with his serious expression; wrinkled brows, clenched jaw, stiff shoulders and narrowed eyes.

Heck, he looked handsome with his smiling expression too; curled-up pink lips, brown locks decorating his forehead, chestnut eyes glistening as his smile.

You cursed yourself at your admission.

He cast the spell, succeeding with the first attempt. The side of his lip inched up with pride for a tiny second.

You did it. You were ready for the plan. The only thing left was James and Sirius’s work.

He turned his eyes to yours.

“We did it.”

“Yes,” you nodded and got to collect the candles.

Remus frowned, visibly uncomfortable at something.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“What?”

You refused to glance at him. You didn’t want to admit anything else just because his ridiculous gorgeousness affected you.

“Something’s wrong. You’re acting weird.”

“How am I acting weird? I’m just cleaning up the mess so we can go and eat.”

“Yeah, but,” he started helping you out by gathering the unused candles, “You’re a bit–”

“I didn’t know you cared about me,” you snapped your head in his direction.

He stopped whatever he was doing. You saw him swallow.

“I don’t.”

“Good.”

You almost threw your candles at him.

“I’m going to dinner.”

You didn’t wait for him. As you exited the room, you reminded yourself that he thought of you as annoying.

“Stop panicking.”

“I’m not panicking!” You wiped your palms on your cloak, counting to ten to calm your nervousness.

“Yeah, sure, that’s why your breath is unsteady.”

“Why are you even focused on my breath?”

You frowned when Remus didn’t reply.

It was a big day. In the end, you'll either end up dreaming about your ball dress or worrying about the detention.

James and Sirius were in the Great Hall, hidden under the Invisibility Cloak. They were waiting for your charmed fireworks as you and Remus were waiting for Peter to bring them behind the gate.

Everyone was busy eating their dinner, like a casual evening. Chatters and clatters were mingling in the air, serving you an opportunity for secrecy.

Remus was standing next to you–a bit close, as your arms were glued together. His eyes were on the corner where James and Sirius were, as your eyes should be looking for Peter.

Except that you weren't looking for Peter.

No matter how much you wanted to prevent it, your eyes were drawn to Remus.

For the last fifteen days, it had been this way. You would look for Remus in every corner, and your heart would chirp like a bird when you would find him. You would start agitating him so maybe he would react, and wouldn’t back down when he would annoy you first.

Even now, you couldn’t help but steal secret peeks at him. Sharp jawline and unblemished face despite the scars were completed with downy hair and hazel eyes.

He was stunning and you were attracted to him. Your five-years-ago self would roll her eyes at you if she was to see you. You were attracted to him despite his annoyance with you, and your pride hated you for that.

You were sure if Remus knew your newly emerging feeling for him, he would mock you to the point you cried.

You turned your head away from Remus when you heard heavy step voices. Peter was bringing a box full of fireworks, trying to be as discreet as possible in the meantime. You stepped up and helped him. He nodded at you before entering the Great Hall like a starved boy whose only intention was to have dinner.

You pulled Remus’s sleeve and he turned to you. You heard him mumble ‘right’ under his breath before taking out his wand. You repeated the same, waiting for him to sort out the fireworks.

“We’ll do it at the same time, remember. Or James won’t be able to Accio all of them at once.”

You nodded, aiming your wand all while alerting your senses to Remus’s voice. Between all the noise from the Great Hall, he had to raise his tone from whispers.

“One. Two. Three.”

Both of you cast the spell. You made sure to bend your wrist this time. Two of the fireworks lit up and attracted other fireworks to themselves. Remus sent James the signal.

Seconds passed, but the fireworks weren’t Accio’d anywhere.

You waited a bit more, glancing at Remus to see him do the same with a frown.

Another few seconds passed.

Nothing.

It was getting dangerous. You couldn’t be near them. They were about to blow up.

You squirmed close to the wall, adrenalin filling up your veins and piercing your heart. Remus was sending the signal over and over again but to no avail.

You wanted to run but your legs were glued to the ground, not even managing to help your standing let alone running. You winced as the firework got close to blowing by a second.

One more second and it was going to explode right in your faces.

One.

You felt Remus’s body on yours, pushing you hard to the wall, almost squeezing you with his torso. His arms held your sides as you leaned into him, clenching your eyes shut.

You waited for the big hit.

But it never came.

Remus raised his head from yours, checking around.

Fireworks weren’t there.

Just when you moved to get away from Remus’s hold, blaring cracks emerged in the air. You let out a scream, thinking it came from near you. Remus squeezed your arms, snapping his head to you.

“Bloody hell, Y/N, my ears just bled.”

You looked around frantically, still standing between Remus and the wall. Your eyes averted back to Remus when you saw the real firework art was going on in the Great Hall. The fireworks were forming letters.

Chatters had turned into cheers, screams of excitement and joy echoing in your ears. You felt the colours of the fireworks on the walls, halls, your clothes and Remus’s body.

Remus’s body, which was too close to yours.

“Sorry,” you uttered, gazing into the depth of his brown.

“You alright?” he asked low, not letting you out of his grasp.

“Yeah, yeah,” you nodded. “You?”

“I’m alright.”

“Good.”

“Good,” he drawled, repeating to you.

His hands around your biceps were now burning up your skin. He was supposed to let you go now. Let you go and put a distance between your bodies.

Your heart cried at the thought of space. You begged and hoped and prayed that he wouldn’t loosen his grip.

You started counting seconds. He didn’t let go.

His stare at you darkened, breathing getting heavier by the second.

Your eyes lowered to his lips. They looked both soft and chapped. He parted his lips.

You looked back into his eyes. They were piercing through you, welcoming thoughts in your head that you so desperately shunned. You felt his touch on your skin tighten.

You yearned for his touch not only on your arm but every inch of your body.

You reminded yourself that he was annoyed by you.

You didn’t blink. You didn’t inhale. You didn’t exhale.

You put your hands on his face and crashed your lips onto his.

The butterflies inside you resonated with the fireworks inside the Great Hall. Your heart quivered at the feeling of his lips on yours. Your chest flamed up in lust, your body smiled when you felt Remus’s hands wander to your back.

He kissed you back, welcoming the passion to run free in your veins.

You arched your back just to have him closer. You felt his slips stretch into a smirk, his fingers digging into your skin.

You kissed him harder.

His heavy breaths mingled with yours, hovering over your face. Your whole body shivered under his silky lips, sheltering the heat of your chest under his touch. His hands covered every inch of your body, learning it by heart. The heft of your lust drowned under the intensity of his manoeuvres.

Your heads were up in the clouds, unaware of anything going down around you.

You forgot where you were. You forgot what you were doing. You forgot why you were doing what you were doing. The dark in your eyes leaked shadows in your mind, blackening every thought.

That is until three boys intervened.

You pushed Remus away, putting the distance you so despised between you two. You pushed your lips together in an attempt to hide their red and swollen state. You ignored the cry of your lips, body, heart and soul for Remus’s caress.

“WE DID IT! WE’RE GOING TO CELEBRATE CHRISTMAS WITH A BALL!”

You grinned at James and let the boys have their celebration. You didn’t cast a glance at Remus. You didn’t see him not taking his eyes off of yours for even a second.

It was Friday. The last Transfiguration class before the well-deserved ball.

You were seated behind your desk, definitely not waiting for Remus.

You two hadn’t talked about the kiss since it happened. Hell, you hadn’t even talked to each other properly.

You might be ignoring him a little bit.

You were leaving the room when he was entering, going to sleep when he was approaching you, and being busy when he was trying to talk to you.

You might be ignoring him not so little bit.

Your leg was bouncing up and down, and you were fighting with your urge to not check the door every ten seconds. You hadn't quite figured out how you were feeling, but you knew it was something intense that your hands were freezing not because of the winter but because of the nervousness.

The same nervousness that made your mouth run dry when you saw Remus enter the classroom. The same nervousness that made you breathe quicker and feel dizzy when you felt Remus sit down next to you. The same nervousness that turned yanked the colours out of your face when you heard him talk.

“Will you run again if I open my mouth?”

“You just did,” you say, trying to sound as casual as you could. You weren’t facing him just the way he wasn’t facing you.

“And you didn’t run.”

“I didn’t.”

“Good,” he nodded. “You’ve been ignoring me.”

“No?”

His head snapped at you, forcing you to turn to him as well.

“Don’t mock me, Y/N,” he warned, irritated.

“I’m not mocking you, Remus. I’m just–”

“What did I do wrong?” he cut you off. “Tell me.”

Your heart skipped a bit at his question, clenching around a pain that you wished to ignore.

“You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I don’t understand,” he frowned. “ You kissed me. So, I’m guessing you wanted it.”

You didn’t reply, too busy reliving the whimsical moment that had been keeping you awake at night, attacking your heart with butterflies.

“You did want it, right?”

“Yes,” you snapped back to the moment. “Yes, I did.”

“Then tell me what I did wrong and maybe I can rectify it,” he said. “Tell me what I did that you’re ignoring me.”

You didn’t know what to tell him.

You couldn’t tell him that you were running from him because you were too embarrassed to look him in the eye and admit that you were attracted to him. You couldn’t tell him that you were still figuring out what you were feeling, too afraid to get your heart broken.

You couldn’t tell him that despite your fears and doubts, you were still yearning for the sound of his laugh and craving the touch of his skin on your skin. You couldn’t tell him that there wasn't a moment in which your mind could offer you any other thought than him.

So you told him the first thing that came to your mind.

“You didn’t do anything wrong. It was me. I shouldn’t have kissed you.”

Remus looked appalled, eyebrows furrowing.

“What?”

“It was a mistake.”

“A mistake?”

“Yes.”

He laughed bitterly, shaking his head.

“We both know it wasn’t a mistake. Stop lying to yourself.”

“I-I just don’t think it’s a good idea for us to–”

“I’m not asking you to marry me.”

“I know!” you said, losing your temper for a second. “I know, Remus. I’m just not sure about...well, everything.”

You watched him inhale deeply, contemplating something in his mind. You wished to know what was going on in his head but didn’t ask.

“We can, uh,” he started, “We can try to be friends.”

“Friends?”

“Yeah, until we figure out whatever this is.”

You stared into his eyes, they weren’t pleased. Like they were keeping something back. You didn’t know how to ask him that, so you didn’t

“Friends,” you repeated as if testing the word. “I guess it can work.”

Remus nodded and stretched out his hand to you. You stared at his hand for a moment, recalling the way they caressed your skin a few days ago. You ached for that feeling.

“Anytime before I graduate would be nice,” he said.

You muttered a quick ‘sorry’ before shaking his hand.

Geoffrey Fawley had asked you to be his date for the ball.

He was a nice boy from what you had heard from James. He was in the Quidditch team with James and was a good chaser. Of course, you hadn’t mentioned either James or Sirius about your date. You wanted them to be surprised so you could mock them later on.

You hadn’t mentioned Remus about it, either. Why should you? Right?

It was only two days since you had agreed to be friends and in those two days you barely even talked, mainly because you were too busy choosing a dress for the ball.

To your delight, you had found the perfect one.

Checking your attire with one last glance, you turned your heels and walked out of the dorm room straight to the hall.

Geoffrey was waiting for you with a smile; he was an undeniably charming boy, you had to admit. Blonde hair sparkling above the green eyes with a graceful frame, he could steal any girl's heart.

Except that yours was already stolen by a pair of brown eyes.

You pushed Remus's visage deep in your mind, refusing to revive your disappointment when he didn't ask you out to the ball as his date.

You let Geoffrey take your hand and curtly lead you from the door to the ball.

"You look absolutely gorgeous."

"Thank you," you smiled.

As you two occupied yourself with small talk, you didn’t notice James and Sirius making their way to you. You had learned that Geoffrey has two elder sisters, he doesn’t like chocolate and he unsurprisingly loves Quidditch. He was kind, sensible, and a great listener.

He was everything and nothing you ever wanted. He wasn’t Remus.

“Fawley! Y/N is your date?!” James called, smiling from ear to ear as he approached you.

“Yes, Potter. Apparently, she deemed me worthy of standing by her side tonight,” Geoffrey joked back, smiling at you gently.

“Ah, yes, fancy words,” Sirius dropped his arm around your shoulders. “Have you kissed yet? Her lipstick looks intact.”

“Sirius!” you hit him in the torso.

“I’ll take this as a no and head out to Remus,” Sirius said, “He’s been a moody bitch these days.”

“Where’s he?” you asked, forcing your tone to the casual.

James turned back, pointing at someone with his hand.

“There. The one with the sour face and brown hair.”

He had leaned against a wall, looking around with a frown. He was captivating in a black suit, his hair falling into all the right places and creating an art-like view. You enjoyed the view a few moments more, memorising every little detail about his figure. You wished he could be a bit closer to you.

“He doesn’t look like he enjoys himself. Should we invite him?” Geoffrey asked.

“I don’t think that’s necessary. He looks comfortable–”

“Nonsense, Y/N,” Sirius cut in. “Oi! Moony! Come here!”

You squeezed your lips together as Remus reached you. He was without a date.

Would it be malicious if you felt relieved by that?

“You guys have fun. Lily is waiting for me,” James said before leaving you four together.

“He is with Lily?” you asked Sirius, both surprised and happy.

“Geoffrey must have really swept you off your feet,” Remus drawled, staring into your eyes.

You felt uncomfortable. Not because of Remus’s words but because of Geoffrey’s presence. You smiled at Remus awkwardly, knowing you had Geoffrey’s eyes on you.

“You don’t have a date, Remus?”

“No,” he said to you. You felt cold at his tone.

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll find someone here.”

“I don’t want to find someone.”

You felt Geoffrey grab your hand.

“Would you like to dance?”

You smiled and nodded at him, letting him carry you to the dance floor.

He put his hand on your waist as you placed your hand on his shoulder. He intertwined your other hands together and started moving with the rhythm.

You glanced at his eyes only for a moment before dragging them to every corner of the room. They landed on Remus.

His eyes cut through your chest like a dagger, reminding you of every feeling your skin, heart and soul had felt two days ago.

You hated that you felt nothing if it wasn’t Remus touching you. You hated that you felt nothing if it wasn’t Remus smiling at you. You hated that you felt nothing if it wasn’t Remus’s words that were whispered in your ear.

“You seem distracted.”

“Oh,” you locked eyes with Geoffrey again, smiling. “Forgive me.”

“It’s Lupin, isn’t it?”

“Excuse me?”

“You have been acting weird since he stopped by.”

Your smile ebbed as guilt prickled inside of your chest. Geoffrey chuckled at your fortified expression.

“It’s alright, you know. I knew you had no feelings for me when I asked you. I just didn’t think you may have feelings for another.”

You lowered your head to his chest. There was no point in denying it.

“I’m so sorry Geoffrey, truly. I didn’t mean to disrespect you–”

“You haven’t”

“Or offend you.”

“You haven’t either,” he shook his head in a warm smile.

“I shouldn’t have said yes,” you mumbled before looking up at him.

“I’m glad that you did. I wouldn’t be able to move on if I didn’t hear you reject me.”

You admired his genuinity, and his pleasant smile and his gentle manner.

You adored his kindness and good heart. He was the kind of boy that would never annoy you, bicker with you or hurt your feelings.

But he wasn’t the kind of a boy that would make your heart race in excitement, passion and desire.

He wasn’t Remus.

When the dance ended, you couldn’t find Remus.

“Go,” Geoffrey said, “I’ll be alright. It’s obvious that you two need to talk.”

You thanked him before placing a short peck on the cheek. Then, you dashed to Sirius, who was too busy getting drunk.

“Padfoot, where’s Remus?” you yelled, attempting to drown the music.

“Where’s who?”

“Remus! Where’s Remus?!”

“I’m here,” you startled at his voice behind you.

You parted your lips to speak to him but he acted faster.

“Come with me,” he said, holding your hand and dragging you away from the people.

He led you to another room and closed the door after him.

“A bit quiet.”

You nodded, feeling the blood in your veins rush. It had only been a second since you were alone with him and your feelings were already messed up.

An awkward silence filled the room.

“Remus, I don’t want to–”

“You didn’t tell me you–”

You sighed, hoping that he would talk first. And he did.

“You didn’t tell me you had a date.”

Your heart skipped a beat.

“I didn’t know I had to.”

“I thought we were…friends,” his teasing tone daunted your nerves. You forgot what you were searching Remus for.

“We’re not that close friends.”

“You seemed pretty close with Geoffrey.”

Pride clawed at your insides, taking an internal scream from you. It didn’t hurt, you felt powerful.

“Jealous much?” you managed to hide the smirk but you didn’t hide the smug tone. You saw Remus clench his jaw and clear his throat before talking.

“What if I am?”

“Then I’d ask you the reason,” you said. Your smug tone changed into something different, something desirous.

“Don’t tire yourself, love. I’m not jealous.”

“Nice,” you smiled, stepping forward. “Then you wouldn’t mind if I returned to my date.”

Remus filled the void between you and the door with his body, not letting you go through. You peeked at his lips momentarily.

“We’re not done talking.”

You hoped you could cover your jitters with cheekiness because your heart was racing, your mouth was dry and your hands were trembling with anticipation. You didn’t even want to mention the surges of fire and flood inside you exhausting each other.

“Oh, isn’t this new? You finally want to talk to me after years of vexation.”

“That’s what friends do, right?” he shrugged.

The way that ‘friend’ word agitated you was ridiculous.

“I’m all ears,” you told him, still not backing away from him, holding onto the distance that could easily be conquered with one step.

You were finally close enough to him to easily feel him under your touch. You could see the beauty marks, freckles and scars vividly. You wouldn’t even need to get closer to caress them. You only needed to raise your hand and–

“I fancy you.”

Your eyes shot up from his lips to his eyes, widening in bemusement. You chose not to let your ears deceive you, not to let the words plant hope in you, not to let butterflies escape their cage.

“What?”

“You heard me,” he frowned. “I’ve been fancying you since you were a little girl and I was a little boy.”

“You hated me when you were a little boy and I was a little girl.”

You shook your head. He did the same.

“No, I didn’t. Annoying you was the only way to get you to talk to me, so I clung to it for years.”

You felt the heft weighing you down drag you onto the surface, letting you finally breathe. You felt the fireworks inside you, or maybe that was just butterflies. Your heart chirped in its cage, ready for you to set it free.

“I fancy you, too.”

You set your heart free from its cage. You let him fly away, welcoming the warmth that the boy before you had to offer.

Remus straightened and closed the distance between you two.

“You do?”

“Yes,” you whispered. “I do.”

You closed your eyes, giving into the night when you felt Remus’s hand on your cheek. You drew a breath in when you felt his other hand on your waist. You parted your lips when you felt his hot breath on your lips.

Anticipation climbed its way from your stomach all the way to your heart, shaking your breath. One more inch closer and you would die in his lips, one more second later and you would break down under his touch, one more breath in and you would crumble into pieces by his kiss.

“Would you like to see how I ruin a friendship in a second?”

“Yes,” you pleaded.

He closed the one last inch, spent the one last second and inhaled the one last breath.

He kissed your lips.

You died in his lips, broke down under his touch and crumbled into pieces by his kiss.

His lips, so soft and silky, intoxicated your mind. His touch, so gentle yet so firm, ignited your skin. His skin under your hands, so warm and flawless, blazed your fingertips.

You melted under him, ready to die in his arms.

He kissed your lips until they were red and swollen. He kissed you until you were breathless and dizzy. He touched you until he sent shivers down your spine.

When you pulled away, his eyes dark and in trance were still on your lips, his lips placing pecks on all over your face.

You smiled into his lips, letting him embrace you.

“James owes Sirius ten sickles.”

“What?” you laughed, taking in his scent.

“Two years ago they had a bet on us,” he said, and you loved the way ‘us’ echoed between his lips. “Sirius said sooner or later we would get together."

“We just made Sirius ten sickles richer.”

I love that I can write Remus both as a kind, gentle, sweet boy and as a mysterious, complicated but hot boy. It just makes sense in both ways.

Anyways, if you've read this far, thank you so much for your time. And thank you to the person that sent the request.

Please let me know what you think!

and if you loved this fic or my writing, buy me a coffee <33

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gloriousdreamerland · 2 days

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Power of rainbow 🌈

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gloriousdreamerland · 3 days

Text

As a girl who never really had any real romantic interaction i feel seen

the prophecy - taylor swift

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gloriousdreamerland · 3 days

Note

This is soooo sweet🥹

I am kinda curious

What would Jason be like if the coffee Cafe owner!reader built in a small library in her Cafe just for him,like she saw he liked reading and went like 'yup. I am building a small library for him'

This is such a fun idea, but omg please forgive me, I went a little overboard. Once I figured out what to write, I couldn’t stop. I apologize for how long it is. Also, this is completely gender neutral, so anyone can read!

But omg also, I was literally kicking my feet and giggling writing the end lol, Anyways enjoy!

Owning a cafe was a difficult job, there was always much to do— customers to attend to, drinks to make, and maintenance to do. You were always busy, but you loved your job.

You had spent a lot of time curating the perfect atmosphere for your beloved customers. The lighting was warm, with fairy lights and lanterns dangling from the ceiling. There was wooden furniture and two old couches that sat by the glass windows. The tiny space smelled of freshly brewed coffee and sweet bread. The cafe was always inviting.

You had many regulars at the coffee shop, each one with their own story, a different purpose.

For the past six months, twice a week, every Thursday and Saturday morning, a tall man walked in. Jason, you recalled his name from the many times you prepared his drinks. He’d order the same thing every time, a small London fog and a walnut banana bread.

He’d sit at the table nearest to the entrance, his back never towards the door.

Every morning, he’d come in with a new book. You had seen him read Franz Kafka, Oscar Wilde and Jane Austen; he’d read a lot of Austen.

He was a mystery and you wanted to know more.

You found Jason quite handsome. His skin was scattered with scars and you often found yourself staring at the permanent wound near his lips. You wanted to run your fingers along it, to trace it, to kiss it.

His eyes were always kind, a deep shade of green, forest-like you’d think to yourself.

He spoke with kindness. His voice velvety and rich, much like the espresso you’d brew everyday, except his voice was never bitter, almost always doused with honey.

Sometimes you’d catch him looking over at the counter, at you, you’d hoped.

Your coworkers were afraid of him, telling you to stay away, but you couldn’t help yourself. He was like an enticing book, waiting to be read. They’d warn you, “do not engage in too much conversation with the strange man.” But it was as if they were talking to a small child, their words would go in one ear and out the other.

“Strange,” you would never use that word to describe him.

From the small talk you had with him, to his choice in books, to even his taste in tea, you’d never describe him as strange.

Gentle was the word you’d choose.

He was huge, all height and muscle, terrifying to most, however to you, he was everything but that. You saw an angel and you didn’t even know him… yet, you’d tell yourself.

There were days, where you almost gained the courage to ask for his number, maybe ask for small detail, perhaps get a glimpse of his life. But each attempt was futile. Why was it so hard to speak to him for more than five minutes, you’d curse your inability to speak to attractive men.

You were beginning to give up on your dreams of getting to know the beautiful stranger, when he walked in through door.

The conversation began as per usual.

“Morning Jason, what can I grab you today,” you asked politely. He smiled softly in return and you stare at the scar by his lip as he begins to speak.

“Uhh surprise me,” you look at him confused, he’s never done that before and he finds himself smiling harder. “Just kidding, I’ll just the take the usual please,” he says as he places his copy of Jane Eyre on the counter to take out his wallet.

“Brontë, why am I not surprised,” you reply, gazing at the book. You take the cash from his hands and your heart drops. Shades of purple and crimson coat his skin. They’re bruised, again.

“What can I say, I’m a man of taste,” he smirks. You roll your eyes and giggle.

“Now who told you that,” and he shrugs. Then there’s a lull, you don’t know what to say now. It isn’t awkward, but you find yourself starting feeling a little uneasy. God, if you only you could come up with something else to say. You shake your head slightly and begin to warm up his banana bread.

You turn around and wait for him to leave, but he doesn’t walk away to his usual table this time, instead he takes a seat next to the counter. Odd, you thought.

Jason’s gaze doesn’t leave you for a second, he watches you in admiration, you don’t quite catch on.

If you thought Jason was handsome, then he thought you belonged in a museum. You were a work of art in his eyes. The kind of beauty they wrote poetry about. Absolutely stunning.

He wanted to get to know you, speak to you, but he was afraid. If you didn’t reciprocate his feelings, then he may never be able to see you again. The trips to the cafe would no longer be necessary and he wouldn’t know what to do with himself.

However today, Jason pushes his fears aside, he feels bold. He finds his confidence and he speaks.

“Do you read much,” he asks suddenly. You place his cup of tea and bread in front of him, and nod your head.

“I do, but not what you read,” you reply and he stares into your eyes, curious. “I mostly read magazines, you know Vogue and stuff,” his smile drops a little, he’s trying really hard to not look judgemental. Cute, you think. “Kidding, I read fantasy mostly,” and his face lights up again.

“So like J.K. Rowling,” he questions.

“No, Harry Potter’s good, but I’m not really a fan of her, you know as a person. I’ve been reading a lot Neil Gaiman recently though,” you say.

“Oh fuck, yeah, she’s said some pretty crazy stuff huh,” and you nod again. “Gaiman though, I don’t think I’ve ever read his stuff before, he any good,” he asks and your eyes go wide, you’re excited.

You spend the next hour of his visit speaking to him about books, about the things that you both like.

You only part from the conversation when there was a customer.

You’ve never felt this way before, all the assumptions you made about him were true. He was an angel, a kind and gentle one.

A month goes by and you notice your relationship with Jason change. Now, instead of sitting by the entrance of the cafe, he sits near you, back against the door. A sign of trust, you assumed. He smiled more, he showed his teeth and he laughed, hard. You loved the sound of his laugh. His eyes looked brighter, greener, emerald-like. He still walked in with a new book, but when the conversation began, it was long forgotten.

You watched his bruises heal and you watched new ones appear, you were always curious, but never had the courage to ask. He’d tell you when he was ready.

As time went by, you found yourself wanting to do something for him, you wanted him to know that you cared. You thought that if your words were going to fail you, then maybe your actions would prove otherwise.

Working a closing shift at the cafe on a gloomy Tuesday evening, you find yourself thinking of different gestures you could do.

Ideas came and left, nothing felt good enough. He deserved the best. Trying to busy your mind elsewhere, you begin to sweep the floors and that’s when inspiration hits you.

There, in the coffee shop, lies an empty corner. An odd spot, not necessarily small, but also not large enough either.

A perfect fit for a decently sized bookshelf. A library, for the community, but most importantly for Jason. You smile to yourself, proud at the thought. He’d love this, you knew he would.

The next morning you find yourself drilling holes into the pale walls of the cafe, trying attach the large shelf you lugged down to the shop.

Once everything was fixed into its rightful place, you begin adding the books, by genre and then by the authors’ last names. You add many of Jason’s favourites, multiple copies of Austen. You add children’s books, comics and something for yourself.

The shelf fits right into the ambiance of the cafe, elevating it honestly. The corner looked cosy and you found yourself wanting to sit by one of the couches with a book and a cup of hot chocolate.

You stare at the shelf once more, proud. Now, you just had to wait.

Jason walks into the cafe the next day, he’s late. He arrives near closing time. It’s just you and him in the cafe, most of your staff left for the day and not many people stayed this late. It’s quiet, the only sound coming from the machines on your side of the counter. He’s holding another book in his hand, but he has no intention of reading tonight.

His hair is slicked back, and there’s a small cut on his forehead. He’s dressed in a white dress shirt and black pants. He looks like he’s coming back from a big event or maybe he’s going to one later. Either way, he looks pretty like this, his arms look more defined and you can make out the muscles on his back when he walks around the room, waiting for his drink.

His eyes wander around the cafe before settling on the bookshelf nestled in the odd corner. His eyes soften, he’s never noticed that before, it must be new, he thinks.

“When’d you get this,” he asks, his fingers running along the spines of the books. He’s smiling, there’s so many books.

“Yesterday, it’s for you,” you say, holding your breath. This is it, the moment you’ve been preparing for.

“For me,” he looks over at you as you settle his tea on the counter. You begin walking over to his side, slowly, riddled with nerves.

“Yes, since you’re always here, I thought you’d like having a book shelf here. It’s like a library, you take a book and then you-“ he cuts you off suddenly.

“You made a library for me in your cafe, are you serious,” he’s trying to hold back a smile, you can tell. His scar gets more prominent when he does that. “Why,” he as asks, his voice is soft, it feels like warm milk with honey, comforting.

“You’re gonna make me say it,” you can’t see your face, but it feels hot, you can tell you’re blushing.

“Yeah, say it. Why is there a library in your cafe for me,” he says, enunciating the words “your” and “for me.” He’s smirking now. He knows the answer, he just wants to hear it from you.

The point of the library was to not have to say anything, for your actions to speak for you, but here you are. Ears burning and palms clammy.

“I…,” you trail off, you look around the room, anywhere but his face. He notices and walks closer, his hands gently make their way around your waist.

“Say it,” he exclaims, it’s not forceful, he’s smiling and shades of pink dust his cheeks.

You close your eyes shut, fuck, you’re going to have to say it.

“I really like you jas-,” and with that, his lips find their way to your own. You move in harmony, much like matcha and oat milk. His lips are sweet, he tastes like the banana bread, he decided to eat while pacing around the cafe. Your hands find their way to his shoulders, you pull back and smile. You peck his lips. Once where the scar is and once more on the centre. He grins.

“You don’t know how long I’ve waited to hear that from you,” he mumbles against your lips, waiting for you to kiss him again.

And you do, you kiss him again and again.

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gloriousdreamerland · 3 days

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I wolf you - Stiles Stilinski Imagine

Author: @sweet-pea-channie

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski x wife!reader

Words: 6,2k+

Requested by anon: Hello! Can I request a stiles x fem!reader imagine where they’re married and have a daughter and something happens to the reader and she turns back to 16 (like the age ritual happened to derek) and like she’s really confused cause everyone’s changed and she has a wedding ring (she thinks Stiles is still in love with lydia) and there’s a little girl who claims Stiles as her dad. The pack decide not to tell her but later she discovers it by herself and gets really overwhelmed and stiles calms her down. In the end she goes back to normal. (Also i would love to see Stiles‘ reactions and his emotions for this situation)

AN: I found that gif and I knew that I had to use it for that request, it also gave me the idea! So thank you! And I loved writing this! I had so many ideas, that I had to decide which one to take all the time :D

Masterlist

You groaned as you slowly opened your eyes and woke up with the worst headache again. Your head was pounding like crazy, and you could really feel the throbbing in the right area. You had your eyes tightly closed, your nose scrunched up until you gently pinched the bridge of your nose with your thumb and forefinger.

The light bothered you next, the sun slamming down on you with full heat so that the skin on your bare arms was already starting to burn. Your head was already completely heated as well.

With your free hand you reached beside you and slowly pushed yourself up from the ground, the slightly too long blades of grass tickled your palm, and you carefully opened your eyes. It took you a moment to adjust to the brightness, but you quickly realized that you had once again sat down under the bleachers at the lacrosse field.

Your constant studying must have been so exhausting that you must have fallen asleep under the bleachers. You couldn’t explain it any other way. With all the exams and the project in bio ahead of you, you didn’t know where to start. After all, you hadn’t had any time for it at all the past few weeks. Only recently, you were able to free Stiles from the clutches of the Nogitsune. However, not without sacrifices.

Continuar lendo

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gloriousdreamerland · 4 days

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doing grocery shopping with the batboys

Could you write something fun and fluff please?

is one of my favorite activities.

I love what you write so much. My favorites are Dickie bird and Jay bird.

Don’t know whether this is fun or fluff as you’d wanted it (kinda went on a personal rant in Jason’s a little bit but I don’t regret it) but I still hope you enjoy it not the less. Also thank you for enjoying my Jason/ Dick stuff! 🫶🦦🐿️

Dick:

You go in for certain things that you need and come out with way more then you probably should. (And most of it isn’t what you actually needed)

Half of the stuff you get is mainly what Dick thinks Hayley might like and she ends up only liking 50% of it…the ‘daddy’s little girl’ doggy shirt was pushing it tbh.

Dick tends to wander off when your shopping together that when you went to ask him a question, only to notice that he was gone, you sigh and say;

‘Dick?’

A few isles over you heard a faint ‘yes honey?’

He was in the pet section. again.

You’d have to remind him that you were only there for specific things and nothing else, but Dick would always try to persuade you into allowing him to get something was wasn’t on the list at all, by battering his eyelids at you and saying ‘pretty please.’

You naturally can’t say no to you pretty boy who acts like a man child when shopping, especially if you’re the one who’s paying.

The shopping list you made might as well have been thrown in the bin with how often you come home, only to be reminded that you barely got 25% of the stuff on the shopping list thanks to Dick’s impulsiveness.

However Dick would only use this as an excuse to go shopping again later on in the week/month and do it all over again without remorse.

Also Dick is way too polite to tell people blocking the isle to move, he wants to, he really does but all he does is breathe in deeply and plaster on a smile before soldering on.

Jason:

Grocery shopping wasn’t a favourite of Jason’s but if he were to do it, he’d rather do it with you because he got to be a little goofy with it.

And by that I mean him getting a little affectionate and pinching your backside and you snacking his bicep and scolding him for being inappropriate in the frozen food section.

‘I’m not doing anything chipmunk.’ He’d defend himself as you glare him.

‘I’m sure as shit there isn’t a perverted ghost here that pinches people’s backsides for fun. Now pack it in.’ You hissed as you rubbed your ass in hopes of soothing the sharp pain you felt seconds ago.

‘Sorry sweetheart.’ He’d chuckle as he kisses your cheek in apology.

You couldn’t help but smile as you could never truly stay mad at your sweet Jason, not unless he was staining your carpets with blood from a night out on patrol, but that was neither here nor there.

Other than that Jason would take the trolley from your hand and storm the store with a determination to get the fuck out as fast as possible.

His long ass strides tend to leave you behind in some random isle somewhere. So to combat this from being a reoccurring thing, Jason would just grabs your hand and puts on the trolley before putting his own on top; Now you were being dragged instead of getting left behind in somewhere with people blocking the fucking isle.

How sweet of him.

(If you’re one of these ppl, go fuck yourself bc what the fuck is so interesting that you have to block the ENTIRE FUCKING ISLE? MOVE!)

Speaking of people blocking the isle, it’s Jason’s biggest pet peeve because WHY THE FUCK ARE THEY TAKING SO MUCH FUCKING SPACE?! FUCKING MOVE YOU LAZY BASTARDS!

He will fucking glare at anyone who even dares to lean over his trolley to get something and when you tell him about how obvious he was being, he’d only response to this was: ‘they’re privileged with the use of a voice, they should fucking use it sometime.’

You’re basically there to calm him down before he bulldozes some poor bastard by guiding him to a lesser crowed isle and get some junk food for later as a reward, followed by your magical cuddles and kisses.

Jason hates shopping but with you it was made just that little bit enduring, only a little bit…he still wants to fight the young couple who wouldn’t fucking move in that one isle and honestly you don’t blame him as you would gladly join him.

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gloriousdreamerland · 5 days

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❁ Watermelon, Surfing & Butterflies

summary: meeting JJ & him becoming an absolute simp for you at first glance

“Alright I’m here” JJ announces as he walks into the surf shop. John B glares at him. “JJ we opened two hours ago.” The boys finally opened their surf shop they dreamed about, but we struggled with the actual working part.

JJ glances at you, who looks around the shop confused. As if,you’re not sure what you’re looking for. JJ could feel his cheeks flush just by looking at you.

You were wearing a flowy sundress, covered with tiny flowers, a bunch of brightly designed bracelets on your wrist, and dangly earrings of a shape he couldn’t make of.

Everything about seemed like you walked out of a Jane Ally—Jane Alston—Jane whatever book Kie mentioned. That didn’t stop the urge he felt to walk over to you.

“You’re right. Going to get started right now” JJ says walking towards.

“Wait really—Oh ok “ John B tells him a teasing tone in his voice.

JJ glares at John B but still continuing making his way toward you.

“You need help” His questions startles you as you been focused on trying to find what you were looking for.

“Oh um no thank you—actually yes please” JJ smiles which makes you feel at ease.

“Do you know what surf wax is. I attempted surfing the other day & I kept slipping off my board. I’ve got like five big bruises to prove it. Anyway the internet said surf wax was supposed to help with that.” You ramble.

“You live in OBX & are just surfing now?” It was rare to find someone at Outer Banks who didn’t know how to surf.It was staple there.

“Ohh i’m not from here. I just moved here. I start college here. I mean technically it’s community college. I decided if I can only attend community college then I might as well attend somewhere pretty.” JJ wouldn’t be so sure about the pretty part, but he wasn’t going to crush your fantasy.

Butterflies. Your earrings are butterflies, JJ finally noticed. JJ interrupts his starring and realizes you’re waiting on him to answer your question.

“Oh surf wax, yeah we have surf wax. “ He says, directing you towards the section where it’s located. He points out all the different scents before you finally decide on watermelon.

You were about to leave the store, thanking JJ for his help before JJ blurted, “You know, if you're still struggling with surfing we offer lessons.” They don’t, that wasn’t a thing.

“Really?” You ask hopeful. Any help you could get would mean so much.

“Of course, just stop by any time & Ill teach you” JJ knew how much of a fool he was making of himself, how desperate he looked but he couldn’t stop the words from coming out.

You let out a smile. A genuine smile, one that instantly causes JJ to make it his life mission to have you smiling all the time.

Once you leave the shop, JJ turns around to find John B & Sarah watching.

“Shut up. Shut up. Shut up” JJ mutters but is ignored by John B mocking him.“Oh I’ll teach you”

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gloriousdreamerland · 5 days

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gloriousdreamerland · 6 days

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Can we watch our phantoms like watching wild horses?

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gloriousdreamerland · 6 days

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Hiii how are you? Could i please request a jealousy fic with jason and dick, like how would they react? What would they do about it? I'm sorry its reallyyy cliche, but i love it anyway💕

Hi anon! I’ve been fine, been taking lots of power naps whenever I can, especially after work, but I’ve fine.

Jason’s jealously more or less comes from a place of insecurity.

He fears that one interaction with the right guy/ girl/ whomever would be enough to make you see that there were better options out there than him.

He never doubts your loyalty to him, never. He wasn’t that pathetic. He just didn’t trust everyone else that even looked at you in the same light as he did on the daily, and it was extremely evident when Jason didn’t like the looks of someone; Furrowed brows over narrowed judging eyes, his form practically towering over you protectively as he stares down the person whom he believes might take you from him.

His protectiveness tends to spike up periodically the moment he see the person get a little too close for comfort and he would clench his jaw to prevent himself from saying something he might regret later on; Jason tries to restrain himself for your sake but it was blatantly obvious that he was on the brink of exploding.

So when you both got home Jason didn’t waste any time in letting you know how he felt during the entire interaction after having forced himself to hold his own tongue.

‘Did you find that person attractive?’ He’d ask.

‘No.’ you said. ‘were you jealous?’

‘I thought me staring down the poor bastard was evident enough.’ Jason scoffs and you hugged his waist all the while pressing reassuring kisses at the base of his neck, when his hands reached to hold yours and intertwine your fingers together.

‘I know that you know I love you very much, no one else catches my eye when I have you,’ you reassured as you pressed another kiss to his neck, ‘my beautiful boy, my beautiful jay birdie.’ You added in a whisper as Jason felt the last remnants of jealously fade away into the background with every kiss you gave him.

‘Are you sure you can see yourself being with me? long term I mean.’ He then says as he squeezed your hands in his search of comfort from you and it broke your heart when he didn’t see himself the way you did, but you were more then willing to kiss and cuddle away his troubles if it meant reminding him of his worth.

‘Without question.’ You confidently told him, squeezing his hands. ‘I don’t see myself with anyone else but you because even though you may not think it, you are more then enough and you are not broken, to me you are whole and you are perfect.’ You finished by pressing a gentle kiss between his shoulder blades and resting your head there as you focused on his breathing.

‘Can…can we just forget about all this and just cuddle like any other cliche couples do?’ Jason asked, finding himself feeling a lot better upon hearing you laugh against his back as a smile crossed his face.

‘Sure big guy.’ You replied. ‘We can go cuddle now.’

And with that Jason was quick to pick you up in his arms and carry you off towards the bedroom where you inevitably feel asleep in the other’s arms, happy and content.

Dick wasn’t one to speak up on his emotions much, which was something that he knew he could better work on for the sake of your relationship with him.

He’s seen himself in the mirror. He knows his own appeal very well but physical appearance were secondary to you as it was his personality that won you over in the end. However he knew that beauty was subjective and that one day you might come across someone more physically appealing than him.

He’d act as though nothing was wrong but if you could easily tell something was off by just his stance alone, crossed arms over chest and a look in his eyes, as though he was trying to deduce the person you were trying to have a civil conversation with.

He may stand close to you and put a hand on your waist or throw an arm over your shoulders, pull you into his side and press a kiss to your forehead with a smile plastered across his face, but he wouldn’t say a word in hopes that would be enough to get across to the person that you were very much taken.

Upon arriving home however, Dick acts he wasn’t even remotely jealous to begin with, despite the glaring fact that he very much was.

‘Me? Jealous?’ He asks incredulously but upon seeing your face, he knew that this act of his had long since stopped working the moment you grew the ability to read him.

‘Yes, you were and you weren’t even trying to make it discreet at all.’ You told him as you settled aside your things on the kitchen counter and sighed. ‘I just wish you would talk to me about these things so that we could get this together like couples should.’

Dick frowned as he moved next to you and gently took your hand in his own, caressing it. ‘I know and I’m sorry that I haven’t been more open and honest with you it’s just-‘

‘You find it difficult to do so I know.’ You cut him off, looking him in the eyes. ‘I don’t blame you for that and I never would, you know that but I just wished that you trust me more to speak to me about these things.’ You tell him as you squeezed his hand. ‘I only want to help you.’

Dick kisses your forehead. ‘I know you do and I appreciate it very much.’ He whispered against your skin. ‘I just don’t know what you see in me sometimes, nor do I understand how you could have possibly put up with me as long as you have given how closed off I can be sometimes.’ He adds as he pulls away, his heart weighing heavily in his chest as he awaits your response.

‘I stay with you because I love you stupid.’ You said softly as you bumped his shoulder with your own. ‘And maybe because Hayley is too cute a pup to ever leave.’

‘I had a feeling Hayley was a major factor in you staying.’ Dick laughed. ‘Can’t say I blame you though, she is indeed very cute.’ He adds as he looks over at the staffy, who was very much fast asleep in her little bed in the living room before looking back to you with gentle eyes. ‘But I’m glad that you did stay. I love you too, dummy.’ He utters softly as he nudged you with his shoulder, vowing to himself to do better by you from this day forth.

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gloriousdreamerland · 7 days

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— CALM AFTER THE STORM

pairing: remus lupin x reader

summary: the 4 times you hate each other, and the one time you don’t. alternatively, remus lupin is a pain in your arse and yours alone.

warnings: enemies to lovers, swearing, kissing, mention of blood and wounds, some bad writing as always which is unedited

author’s note: just a little e2l fic for my own indulgence as its my fave trope and its criminal how i barely have any e2l fics… also haven’t written anything in ages soooo enjoy!

when he just has to be controversial

The sun was beaming, colourful rays reflecting over your book through the stained-glass windows of the Gryffindor common room as you lounged on the sofa with your head in Lily’s lap. You were barely paying attention to the chatter of your friends around you, choosing to focus on your copy of ‘The Catcher in the Rye’ and Marlene’s soft guitar playing. The lazy afternoon is a welcome break from the increasingly stressful N.E.W.T lessons that have had you all so exhausted, you’re not sure if Peter is asleep or dead from his curled-up position on the rug.

You don’t even realise someone is saying your name until Marlene tickles the sole of your socked foot with her guitar pick, making you yelp and draw your legs in from where they were previously tucked in between Marlene and her guitar.

“What was that for?” you grumble, nudging her arm with your foot.

Marlene smirks, nodding over to James. “He told me to get your attention. Didn’t specify how.”

You roll your eyes and turn on your side to face the boy in question, his grin unfaltering as he multitasks polishing the handle of his broomstick and talking to you. “Not my fault you’re dead to the world when you’re reading,” he says, matter-of-fact, continuing when you raise your eyebrows in impatience. “I was just wondering how you could look so interested in that book. Remus said he’d do my homework for a month if I finished it the other day and I couldn’t get past five arse-numbingly dull pages.”

You scoff, adjusting your position again to face Remus as well. “And why was Remus betting you to read my book, exactly?”

“It was my copy,” Remus replies, scribbling away on his parchment, cross legged on his chair, to undoubtedly finish the Potions essay that Slughorn had set yesterday. You’re transfixed on the way his hand is moving across the page for a second, unable to fathom how someone can have such messy handwriting. You aren’t surprised in the slightest that the next words coming out of his mouth are ones you disagree with. “I wanted to see how long he lasted reading the slowest-paced book in the world.”

You abruptly sit up at this, shutting your book and forgetting plans of relaxation.

“Hey, watch it!” Lily exclaims, lifting the bottle of black polish she’s using to paint Sirius’ nails from its balanced position on her thigh to avoid you spilling it all over her white top. “If you’re about to argue, please refrain from throwing things until after I’ve done the second coat of nail polish.”

You pointedly ignore this and narrow your eyes at Remus who, infuriatingly, still hasn’t lifted his head from his essay. “I’m surprised you found it hard to read such a slow book. Thought that’d be perfect for you.”

“Look what you’ve started, Prongs,” Sirius sighs, examining his nails.

Seeing the corners of Remus’ lips pull up into a slight smile at your comment just spurs you on in defence of the book you were previously enjoying. “Besides, it’s about a real-life teenager with real-life struggles, not The Hobbit on his latest adventure.”

“Who’s Hobbit?” James mumbles, scratching his head in confusion as Marlene just shrugs, equally oblivious.

“It’s overrated,” Remus insists, finally setting down his quill to look at you. The amused expression still hasn’t left his face and you make a noise halfway between a scoff and a high-pitched squeal of indignance. “Even James agrees.”

“Oh, and James’ opinion on literature is the standard now?” You raise a brow, tutting when James starts to protest. “The only book James has finished in the last six years was Quidditch Through the Ages.”

The way James slowly slides the aforementioned book under one of the sofa cushions doesn’t go unnoticed by anyone. Sirius starts snickering, much to Lily’s annoyance as she tries to control his hand. “She got you there, in fairness, mate.”

Sirius’ chortling seems to stir Peter from his sleep and he opens one eye to peer at you. Seeming to catch sight of your irritated expression, he frowns. “Are these two arguing like an old married couple again?”

“Merlin help us if these two ever decide to get married,” Marlene utters under her breath, bent over her guitar and avoiding the weight of your glare.

“Yeah, he wishes,” you grumble, shuffling around on the sofa to get back into a comfortable position with your book. Remus’ smile has only widened in response and he seems to enjoy your discomfort as you overcompensate for showing your annoyance by wriggling about.

“I dream about it every night,” Remus replies, dryly and Peter giggles below you before turning over to sleep again.

You overcompensate a little too much by moving around, because Lily huffs from beside you and starts scrambling around for a tissue. “What did I say about the second coat?”

“I didn’t throw anything this time!”

2. when he won’t let you give someone a black eye

Defence Against the Dark Arts is your favourite N.E.W.T subject for a lot of reasons. You enjoy the lesson content, it’ll be useful in future years, and it’s the one lesson you share with every single one of your friends.

You’ve gotten used to James and Sirius messing around while Professor Marigold recites fact after fact about spells and creatures and wizards of dark nature. Its like soothing background noise to you and your classmates who all concentrate in silence most of the time.

Which is why your quill stops on your page and leaves a growing ink blot when you hear snickering and whispers from the other side of the classroom rather than from in front of you where the marauders sit in a line.

The scoffs of disgust coming from Snape and Mulciber are loud enough to attract the attention of the rest of the students and even the teacher, who eventually sets down her piece of chalk in the middle of talking about Wolfsbane potion with an impatient sigh.

“Is there some sort of pressing issue that can’t wait until after class to discuss, boys?” Professor Marigold asks with a tone of ire that would impress Professor McGonagall. “Even Black and Potter have decided to give it a rest today.”

She’s not wrong, you think, noting how they’ve been less disruptive than usual for this lesson, probably tired out from setting each other’s robes on fire in Charms the hour before.

“The pressing issue is werewolves,” Snape mutters quietly, as though he doesn’t want to make a big issue but can’t stop himself from speaking up. “We should be learning more about how to kill them and less about the price of potion ingredients.”

Lily gasps from beside you and Sirius and James tense up at his words. Remus doesn’t lift his head, but you absently notice how his grip tightens around his quill when Peter nervously turns to him. Peter isn’t one for conflict and he’s always been nervous around this particular group of Slytherins, so you’re not surprised he’s anxious.

“Werewolves are still people, you can’t just go around killing them!” you find your mouth moving on its own, before your brain can catch up. When Snape turns to direct his scowl at you, its matched by your own as well as Lily’s disappointed frown. “They didn’t ask to be werewolves, they physically can’t help it! How would you feel if people wanted to kill you for not being able to control being such an arse.”

“Miss Y/L/N,” Professor Marigold warns, setting her stern eyes on you. You’re not one for disrupting lessons or getting into trouble, so when Remus turns around to look at you with a raised eyebrow, your cheeks start to warm and you stubbornly don’t look his way again.

Snape ignores her to continue glaring at you. “I don’t have the capacity to kill people in a feral rage now, do I?” His gaze flits from you to Lily and Marlene and then lingers on the boys. “Of course, you’re defending werewolves. It’s no surprise considering who you choose to associate yourself with.”

“Mr Snape.”

“You have no need to fly into a feral rage to kill people,” you reply, voice steadily rising in volume. Sirius and James turn their heads back and forth like they’re watching a tennis match and you know the only reason they haven’t piped up to agree with you is because they’re too entertained watching the way you’re about to jump out of your seat to pounce on Snape. “All you need to do is show someone your face for them to die of fright–”

“ENOUGH!” Professor Marigold’s booming voice cuts through the laughter of everyone on the Gryffindor side of the classroom and when you turn to look at her, you see even Remus’ shoulders are shaking with silent laughter. You’re not sure why this pleases you, but it doesn’t last long enough for you to figure it out before Marigold waves her wand in the direction of the door and sends it flying open. “Both of you will wait for me outside the classroom until the lesson has finished so I can discuss your appalling behaviour.”

You gape at her for a second, before relenting and grabbing your bag, not wanting to argue with her authority. Your friends have different ideas.

“That’s not fair!” Marlene exclaims, standing up in protest. “She didn’t even do anything wrong.”

“Yeah,” James agrees, also standing up. “Snape’s the one who was being an annoying pri–”

“Sit down, everyone,” Marigold cuts him off, pursing her lips. “Everyone except Mr Snape and Miss Y/L/N. Do not even think about speaking Mr Black, or I won’t hesitate to suspend your and Mr Potter’s Quidditch privileges until further notice.”

Sirius shuts his mouth after a nudge from James and you shoot your friends a grateful smile before making your way out of the classroom, followed closely by Snape.

The door shuts behind him and you don’t bother sparing him a glance before dumping your bag on the ground and leaning against a wall to focus your gaze on a suit of armour for the next five minutes. You’re about half a minute in when you notice that one of the hands are slightly wonky and the classroom door suddenly opens.

Remus, of all people, enters the hallway to join the two of you and quickly shuts the door.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, furrowing your brows and getting up from against the wall.

“Yeah, what are you doing here?” Snape sneers at him, and you give him a scathing look before turning to Remus for an answer.

Remus pointedly ignores him to stand next to you against the brick wall. “I just pointed out to Professor Marigold that you both have your wands and she may not have two students left out here by the end of the lesson.”

“I can defend myself,” you snort, folding your arms. You aren’t sure if you’re annoyed that Remus is insinuating otherwise, or if you’re touched that he doesn’t want you to be hexed into oblivion by Snape. “Especially from him.”

“Oh, I know,” Remus raises both hands in surrender as his tone becomes grave. “It’s not you I’m worried about, trouble.”

“Ha ha,” you deadpan, rolling your eyes at the nickname. He started it around a year ago when you got your first ever detention for helping Sirius and James Charm the Slytherin chairs to throw them off every time someone sat. Your friends had kept quiet about your involvement, but Peeves had spotted you, the nosy bastard. The nickname stemmed from the fact it was the first time you had ever gotten into trouble and it never failed to irritate you. “You better be careful I don’t hex you.”

“I wouldn’t dream of annoying you,” he says, but the serious tone of voice is ruined by the way his lips are twitching in an attempt not to laugh at you. “After what happened when I said I didn’t like that one Jane Austen book? Forget it.”

“Hey, you insulted one of my favourite characters,” you point out, resting a hand on your hip. “What did Emma ever do to you? You had that hex coming.”

“I had pink hair for a week,” Remus narrows his eyes at you, but you can tell he isn’t really angry. Although he refuses to admit it, you know for a fact he didn’t hate the pink hair considering how good he looked with it. An annoying indiscretion on your part. Remus looks behind you for a split second before leaning in a little to whisper. “I won’t get in the way if you want to turn Snape’s hair pink, though. Preferably a very bright shade of flaming, hot pink.”

At risk of your own cheeks flaming up from how close he is – really, what’s the need? – you shake your head let your hair fall into your face. Almost having forgotten Snape is also there, you start when he scoffs (for what you think is the millionth time this afternoon) and you sigh before facing him begrudgingly. “What now?”

“Couldn’t handle the content of today’s lesson?” he asks, tiling his head. You’re about to ask him what the hell he’s talking about before you realise, he isn’t actually talking to you, but to the boy behind you.

“Uh…” you trail off, not sure how to respond. All three of you currently standing in the corridor know that Remus is smart enough to tackle any type of content, especially something as memorable and interesting as werewolves.

Remus’ amused demeanour has been wiped away and you can’t determine his exact expression, but his voice is cold when he talks to you. “Just ignore him.”

“You and your group of friends can’t help themselves when it comes to defending strays and all sorts,” Snape continues, much to your confusion. “It’s not enough that you’re a group full of blood-traitors and mudbloods…”

Remus tenses up behind you and you find yourself frozen for a second.

The next thing you know, you’re lunging at the greasy-haired Slytherin with every intention of hurting his face with your fists, wand long forgotten. Your fingers barely brush his robes, however, when you feel yourself being hauled back by strong arms that wrap around your middle.

“Let go!” you snarl, enjoying the way Snape has backed away, eyes wide and worried. “Did you hear what he said? Remus, let me go.”

He doesn’t relent, still holding onto you when he leans down to speak in your ear. “You’ve already gotten into trouble. You’ll get into a whole lot more when everyone walks out to see Snape with a black eye and you with bruised knuckles.”

“Worth it,” you grit out, still pulling away from his grip and throwing daggers with your eyes at Snape. After a few more seconds of pointless struggling, you relax very slightly just to turn in his arms so you can direct your next words to him more pointedly. “Not only is he a slimy, blood-supremacist twat, but he also wants to kill a poor bunch of werewolves. We should be throwing him into the bloody Black Lake!”

“I know, I-” Remus is cut off when the door opens and students start flooding into the corridor to provide a barrier between you and Snape, indicating the end of the lesson. Remus finally lets you go when he realises you’re in direct view of Professor Marigold who stands behind her desk, waiting for you. “I had no idea you were such an advocate for werewolves.”

It’s the last thing you expected him to say and you immediately look up at him and frown. “Again, they’re people. They don’t deserve to be victims of prejudice just as no one does.” He doesn’t respond, staring at you with an unreadable expression and a hint of a smile. Your frown deepens in confusion. Was he… laughing at you? Especially after you had just gotten along. “I’m so glad you find me amusing,” you say, scowling and storming back into the classroom and away from Remus.

3. when he's too good for flower crowns.

“Tell it again,” James insists, grin wide as ever plastered onto his face despite the withering look you send his way. “Getting a glimpse at even the possibility of Snivellus getting pummelled by Y/N would have made my entire year.”

“The galleons I’d give up to have been there,” Sirius releases a wistful sigh, closing his eyes as he lies down, facing the sun.

You hand him the daisy chain crown you just finished and he dutifully dons it. “I’ll alert the Ministry of Magic to order in a time-turner for an issue of utmost urgency,” you say sarcastically as you start on the next daisy chain. Sirius merely winks at you.

“I think you should’ve let her have at him, Remus,” Marlene states, unapologetic. You nod vehemently in agreement, a little too enthusiastically as you end up splitting a daisy down the middle.

Lily tuts, adjusting her own flower crown as it slips against her silky red hair. “I’m glad you didn’t. Godric knows what Professor Marigold would have done,” she shudders at the thought, ever the diligent student.

“Forget Marigold,” Peter chimes in. “Imagine what Professor McGonagall would have done.”

You don’t miss how he looks over his shoulder in case your head of house is taking a stroll along the grassy grounds.

“She would have combusted when you called him an ugly arse,” Remus pipes in, unhelpfully might you add, from where he sits slightly away from the group under a tree, reading.

The comment sends Marlene, Sirius and Peter into a fit of laughter – James is too busy staring at the way the sun is making Lily look ethereal and she’s too busy pretending not to notice while being secretly pleased. Doing a quick survey of your friends, you see everyone now has a flower crown except Remus. You make your way to the tree he’s resting against while the others chat, and sit yourself down with purpose.

Remus lowers his book very slightly to peer at you and your too-sweet smile. He raises a sceptical brow. “Should I be scared right now?”

You drop the fake smile and hold up your flower crown expectantly. “Everyone has one, but you.”

“How observant,” he says, setting his book down to look at you in mock astonishment. “Have the Aurors at the Ministry caught wind of you yet?”

“Don’t be a pain,” you groan, dropping it onto his open book. “I want everyone to wear one for the picture!”

Remus sighs, looking at the large camera over by your bag. You had saved up all summer to buy a magical camera to be able to take pictures of you and your friends in your final year at Hogwarts. The time you used your own muggle camera was a disaster of sparks and broken bits of plastic that took hours to mend. “I already agreed to your incessant picture-taking,” he reminds you, acting like it’s the most painful thing in the world. “The flower crown is not happening.”

“Fine, you miserable git,” you flick a handful of grass at him, sending him sputtering. “Now come and sit for the photo.”

You return to the group with Remus behind you and get everyone in position before hunting down someone to take the photo. Glancing around, you spot a close bunch of first-years and send Lily to use her Head Girl credentials (and warm and inviting personality, of course) to rope one of them into coming over.

“Okay, smile everyone,” you order, plopping down on the grass next to James. You elbow him in the ribs, not even having to look at him to know what he’s doing. “Stop looking at Lily and look at the camera.”

With a couple of mutterings and some nudging, the nervous first-year Hufflepuff girl shakily takes the picture and hurriedly hands you the camera in the middle of the picture sliding out of it. James and Sirius go back to playing with a golden Snitch while Peter watches, while Remus returns to his book.

Lily looks at the picture and coos over how cute everyone looks at the same time as Marlene complaining about her hair. You impatiently take the picture back to slide it into your photo album and something catches your eye.

Sirius is making a peace sign behind Remus’ head. His head that wears a flower crown.

4. when he bleeds out on you.

You’re not sure what time it is – either very late at night, or very early in the morning. You do know, however, that you want to finish your Herbology essay so you can enjoy tomorrow (or today) and cheer your friends on in the Gryffindor vs Ravenclaw Quidditch game. You only have the conclusion left and you’re confident it’ll be done in the next ten minutes.

If you can find your damned quill, that is. You could have sworn you had it ten minutes ago, just before you snuck down to the kitchens to persuade the house-elves to give you the strongest cup of coffee they could make. You take a quick sip and grimace at the lukewarm temperature before setting it down and getting up to search. After turning every sofa cushion upside down, you go to crouch behind the sofa.

You hear the door to the common room being swung open and the hushed voices of the Marauders enter, but you don’t take too much notice as you squint for your quill. It isn’t unusual for the boys to be roaming around the castle at odd hours of the night, but a hiss of pain grabs your attention at the same time you spot the quill.

“Can you guys manage taking him up to the-” Sirius cuts himself off when your face pops up from behind the sofa. He freezes in his efforts to hold up Remus, who you notice is leaning on him and James and Merlin’s balls he’s covered in blood.

“What the fuck happened to him?” Your voice comes out weak as you walk over to the boys. Remus has deep, bleeding slashes over his chest and an assortment of little cuts on his face and hands. He seems barely able to keep his eyes open but when his gaze meets yours, he winces. He isn’t the only one hurt and you realise Sirius’ arm is damp with blood and trembling, the same going for James’ thigh. “What the fuck happened to all of you, oh my God…?”

“Peter, you were supposed to keep watch,” James hisses at the boy who looks like a deer in headlights. He looks a lot better than the others, with only a couple of small cuts scattered around his face and arms.

“She was behind the sofa!”

James’ leg buckles and you snap out of your state of shock to dart forward and keep him steady. “Right. Shit, okay,” you breathe out, holding off asking any questions to prevent anyone from bleeding out. “James, Sirius, set Remus down on the sofa and take off his shirt. Peter, help these two up the stairs and go find a first-aid kit or something.”

“We’ve got a couple in the dorm,” Sirius says, summoning one of them down with a quick Accio and handing it to you. He hesitates for a second, probably unsure if he should stay and explain things, before deciding to turn in the direction of the stairs with James as Peter rushes to help them up. “Look after him, please. We’ll be right back, Moony.”

“Take your time, I’ve got him,” you utter, already fiddling with the first-aid box and trying to open it with shaky hands. You’re no healer, but you know enough to panic when you see Remus has had his eyes closed for the last few seconds. “Remus, keep your eyes open!”

He groans, cracking one eye open to look at you. “I’m injured and bleeding out and you still manage to yell at me.”

“I wasn’t yelling,” you frown, unscrewing the bottle of dittany and scrambling for the cotton pads. You try to avoid Remus’ gaze because you feel extremely silly about being more panicked than him when he’s the one with claw marks down his chest. “Don’t move, or it’ll hurt.”

While dabbing the liquid onto the deep gashes in an attempt to close them up, you ponder on the fact that he probably knows it hurts from experience. You’re not completely clueless.

“What are you thinking?” Remus whispers in the stifling quiet of the common room, looking unsure.

You don’t cease in your movements, changing cotton pad after cotton pad. It takes you a minute to muster up the courage to meet Remus’ gaze again and this time he looks more nervous than you’ve ever seen him. “You’re a werewolf, aren’t you?”

Remus gives you an almost imperceptible nod, like he doesn’t want to admit to it. You take a deep breath.

“Who else knows?” you ask calmly, as if you’re asking him about the weather.

“The boys and Lily,” he admits, swallowing hard. “Oh, and Snape.”

“Snape?” you exclaim, halting your dabbing to gawp at Remus. “I’m not saying you had to tell me or anything, but Snape?”

Remus winces and you don’t think it has anything to do with his injuries. “In my defence he found out on his own and hates me for it,” he rushes out. “And it’s not that I didn’t want to tell you… I-”

“It’s fine,” you cut him off, waving him off and wondering how good you’re hiding the fact you’re a little hurt. “You didn’t have to tell me.”

“No, I wanted to. I did,” Remus insists, looking earnest. There’s something in his voice that’s a little pained and desperate that has you meeting his eyes. “I just couldn’t have dealt with it if you started looking at me differently. The boys and Lily sometimes do, y’know? Like I’m made of glass or something. It’s refreshing whenever you scowl at me or call me an idiot or an arse or a stupid gi-”

“Okay,” you stop him, stifling a grin. “I get it!”

Remus’ eyes flash with relief for a second before you notice doubt start to creep in again. “You don’t need to hide it, by the way. I won’t hold it against you if… If you’re scared or disgusted, or-”

“What?” you cut him off again and scrunch your nose in confusion. “I’m not scared or disgusted. Why would you think that?”

“You’ve been a bit too calm,” he points out.

Rolling your eyes, you grab a bandage to start patching up the worst of the injuries before you move onto the minor cuts and bruises. “I didn’t want you to think I was freaking out, or looking at you differently,” you quote his own words to him with a pointed look, making him smile again. “I don’t, you know. Think of you any differently, I mean.”

His expression is unreadable as he just looks at you and you just look at him, bandage hovering over his chest before his fingers come up to brush the back of your hand. He lightly holds your hand, softly running his thumb over your knuckle as his voice drops to a whisper again. “Thank you.”

You offer him a gentle smile, holding his gaze for a second longer before focusing on bandaging him up again. His hand drops to the side and you oddly find yourself missing his warmth. The large bandage adheres to his skin and you run your fingers along the sides to stick them down, feeling him shudder under your touch.

You quickly busy yourself with looking for more supplies in the kit to hide the way your own breathing has increased slightly. “Hey, anyway, I almost walloped Snape right in the eye for you. If that wasn’t any indication of my standing on werewolves, I don’t know what is.”

“Ah, my knight in shining armour,” Remus chuckles before breaking into a wheeze as the muscles of his injured abdomen contract. “Fuck, don’t make me laugh.”

“Don’t laugh at me then!”

5. when you’re definitely not jealous… you’re not!

Three cups of coffee. You’re on three cups of coffee. It’s also the same number of hours you’ve slept and by Godric can you feel it in every inch of your body as the muted chatter of the Great Hall buzzes around you. Your head is in your hands as you contemplate stealing some Polyjuice potion and bribing a first-year to take a dose with your hair in it so you can go to bed and they can pretend to watch the Quidditch match.

You knock back the last sip of coffee when you sense a presence sliding onto the bench in front of you. Groggily setting the cup down, you see that its Remus. It takes a second to remember why this is concerning.

“Morning, h- Wait, what the hell are you doing out of bed?” you hiss, leaning forward to avoid anyone listening in. You scan your eyes over his chest, two seconds away from ripping his shirt off to check his bandages. “How are you even standing?”

“Relax, Florence Nightingale,” Remus says, rolling his eyes at your dramatics. He does his own quick sweep of the table and sees that most people are out in the Quidditch stands already, so he proceeds to pull the neckline of his shirt down slightly to reveal an already fading scar. No bleeding in sight. “I went to Madame Pomfrey with the boys this morning and she hurried up the process like she usually does. I feel achier than a 90-year-old woman with a metal hip, but the brunt of it is gone and Pads and Prongs are good as new.”

“Okay,” you say slowly, narrowing your eyes slightly. “If you’re sure you can sit out in the stands…”

“I can once I’ve consumed every cup of tea on the premises,” he says, reaching for the teapot. An annoyingly smug smirk starts to appear on his face while he pours. “What, are you worried about me, trouble?”

You scowl instantly. “No, I just don’t want you collapsing on me in the Quidditch stands while I’m cheering the boys on.”

“Right.” He hides his grin behind his cup of tea.

“Hey,” you mumble, nodding to Patricia Holloway who looks like she’s making a beeline to your table. More specifically, towards Remus. “Bright and cheery Hufflepuff incoming.”

“Merlin, it’s too early for this,” Remus whispers, taking another sip of tea before his face breaks out into a charming smile directed at the girl who slides into the empty seat next to him. “Morning, Patricia.”

“You look good today, Remus,” Patricia rests her elbow on the table and tilts her head to look at him with simpering eyes. It’s no secret Remus is good-looking and you’ve heard a million girls talk about him before. You’ve never seen any of them approach him yourself, though. You can’t say you enjoy it. “Are you… okay, Y/N?”

You didn’t realise you were scowling until she addresses you and you rapidly smooth out your expression, clearing your throat. Remus looks amused, which makes it harder to keep the scowl off your face. “Fine! I’m fine, just a bit confused since Remus looks half asleep,” you attempt a laugh through gritted teeth and are spurred on when Remus is actively trying to fight a grin. “And his hair currently makes him look like he’s been dragged through the Forbidden Forest.”

He can’t stop himself snorting at that, but Patricia just looks confused as though unsure how to react. She settles on a nervous little laugh, turning back to him. “I can fix that for you, here,” she says, scooting closer and starts to run her hands through Remus’ hair. You poke your cheek with your tongue, marvelling at how bold she’s being and how Remus is just sat there, still looking amused as ever. “There, what do you think?”

“A hairbrush couldn’t have done a better job,” you deadpan, softening your expression slightly when Patricia begins to look a little disconcerted. “You keep doing that, I’m going to head off to the Quidditch field.”

You all but storm out of the Great Hall, exhaustion having left you completely. It’s replaced by a newfound whirl of irritation that pools in your stomach and creeps up your throat, making you feel a little sick. It must be the coffee, you think, and you’re trying to remember if the beverage has ever made you experience this when all of a sudden there’s a hand circling your wrist.

“Stop, Y/N,” Remus says, a little breathless. You didn’t realise he’d run out after you and you feel bad about his injuries before your gaze snags on his newly tousled hair. “Godric, you walk fast.”

“I didn’t ask you to catch up to me,” you snap, purposely scowling this time. The cheeky bastard still looks amused and your irritation is growing faster than ever. “Besides, the match doesn’t start for another fifteen minutes. Plenty of time for Patricia to give you a whole new hairdo. Maybe she can give you plaits or– Why are you laughing.”

“You’re jealous,” he exhales with a smile, sounding positively delighted. Any feelings of concern have disappeared and are being rapidly replaced with wanting to thwack him upside the head. “Oh my God, you really are jealous.”

“Jealous, my arse,” you scoff, turning your back to him with every intention of speed walking out of the castle. His long legs keep up with you easily and he rushes in front of you to stop you going anywhere. You glare at him. “Leave me alone, Lupin.”

“Not until you admit that you’re jealous.” Remus is positively giddy with glee and you feel a flush of heat crawling up your neck. You set your jaw stubbornly and he’s incredulous as he shakes his head. “Merlin, you really have to argue with me on everything don’t you? I don’t care about Patricia Holloway and I’m glad you’re jealous. Means you’re less likely to break my nose when I kiss you.”

You barely get the chance to make an incoherent noise when Remus grabs you by the waist and presses his lips against yours, kissing you like he isn’t prepared to let you go anytime soon. His mouth slides hot and wet against your own and you gasp into the kiss when he nips lightly at your lip, your hands coming up to slide into his hair, making it unruly all over again.

Remus is the first to break apart, too soon, and you physically restrain yourself from chasing after his lips. He pulls back slightly, breathing fast to look into your eyes, searching for the answer you’re unable to speak yet.

“You… uh, I-I’m…” you trail off, dazed and breathless and head swirling with every emotion under the sun.

Remus laughs, pulling you impossibly close and leaving a soft kiss on your jaw, which doesn’t help your current speech issues. “If I knew that was all it took to shut you up, I’d have kissed you years ago.”

“Wha-!” You slap his arm, snapping out of the haze. You hide your current uncertainty behind a glare. It hit you like a ton of bricks, but you realised about five seconds into the kiss that you wanted Remus Lupin in every way, shape and form. You’re more than a little terrified, so what better defence mechanism than anger? “Why did you actually kiss me, you prick?”

“You are the densest, most clueless,” Remus begins, pausing to kiss you lightly a couple times when you start to scowl. “Most stubborn and most beautiful little witch I’ve ever known. And if you haven’t figured out after almost seven years that I love you, then I’m afraid we might have to admit you to St Mungo’s, because really-”

“Stop,” you whisper, lifting a finger to press against his lips, effectively silencing him. “You love me? You actually, seriously love me?”

He rolls his eyes and nods, like it’s obvious or something. You huff. “Then why have you been such an annoying pain in my bloody arse, Remus Lupin?!”

“Because,” he says, the word coming out muffled and you hastily remove your finger. “It was a good way to keep your attention. Plus, I like when you’re angry. It’s cute.”

You scowl without thinking and his smile impossibly widens.

“See?”

“Shut up and kiss me again,” you say dryly, pulling him in by the collar to give him a short, searing kiss. “Oh, and I guess I love you too.”

“So, no broken noses in my future?” Remus asks hopefully, softly sliding his nose against yours.

“No promises.”

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