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Always 🥹🙌
Surprise! We're Making Love
6.8k words
this is my first real like... real smut fic? so do take that into consideration [and please be nice to me lol] but also feel free to send me a message if you have any feedback or pointers.
this is a fic based on this trope that was sent to me by @bobluvbot like a million weeks ago and became my hyper fixation for far too long. I finally decided to put it into words. thanks to @unstablereader for championing me as I wrote this and convincing me it was decent enough to post lol
Remus Lupin x fem!reader
CW: smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, coming inside of someone, AFAB reader, reader is a Pureblood Slytherin, has hair long enough for Rem to feel it on his shoulders when you're straddling him, reader has hair texture that sticks to you when wet, mentions of smoking weed and being high, mentions of drinking and alcohol, mentions of arranged marriages, use of mudblood and blood supremacy
Remus doesn’t know how exactly this thing started for him.
Perhaps it was the day after a full moon when he forgot to lock the door behind him to the Prefects Bathroom and you let yourself in, nearly fully stripped before you realised he was sitting in the steaming, bubbling pool-sized tub with a spliff hanging lazily from his mouth.
“Circe’s tits!” You screeched as you hastily pulled up your towel to keep your modesty. “You didn’t think to alert me to your presence, Lupin?” You sneered half-heartedly at him as you tried to regain your composure.
“Sorry.” Remus chuckled, voice gravelly from a mixture of last night’s howling and tonight’s smoking. “My brain is moving a little slowly right now.”
You looked between him and the spliff and sighed. “Think you’ll be much longer?” You asked him quietly, cautiously, reticently. He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen you look so dejected.
Slytherin princess; though you never really let that dictate how you treated people, just that it levelled you with a certain notoriety within the school. You were the only one who could talk sense into Barty Crouch Junior; Pandora Rosier’s biggest defender and advocate; Snape, Mulciber, and Avery’s biggest adversary; the one who encouraged Regulus Black to reach out to his estranged older brother; and the least likely to enact revenge on the Marauder’s for their pranks.
Though Remus had never shared more than a few words with you in passing, he knew a lot about you. In addition to the aforementioned qualities, you were a Pureblood, the eldest daughter and heiress to your family’s name and fortune, Prefect, received top marks in Charms and Transfiguration, and hated the Sacred Twenty-Eight.
Knowing all of that made Remus rather rueful that he hadn’t spoken to you before now.
“Listen, this tub is nearly the size of an Olympic swimming pool.” Remus started, causing you to furrow your brows in confusion. “It’s big.” He clarified. “I don’t mind...sharing if you wouldn’t be too uncomfortable; otherwise, I’ll pack up and leave it to you.”
He didn’t really want to leave; not whilst he was still nursing his post-moon hangover and the warm water was finally starting to relieve some of the tension in his bones. But you looked forlorn, and damn Remus and his bleeding heart, he’d give it up if you needed it.
“I don’t want to kick you out... you were here first.” You murmured, apparently weighing your options in your head.
“I will leave if you want, L/N, but I’m more than willing to share.”
You searched his eyes for what, Remus wasn’t sure, but you seemed to come to some decision. You threw your head back and let out a strangled groan which Remus was certain was more for dramatic effect than it was indicative of any real ire.
“Fine, turn around.”
Remus smirked at you and tried to ignore the protesting of his joints as he stood in the pool and turned to face the opposite wall, allowing you to drop the rest of your clothes and your towel and sink into the water.
“Okay...” You whispered quietly. “You can sit back down now; thank you.”
Perhaps it had begun then; he’d offered you a puff from his joint, causing you to move closer to him. He was a gentleman and avoided noticing the way your breasts sat high on your chest, buoyant in the bubbly and fragrant waters.
He ignored the feeling of your elbow brushing against his. He ignored the way your hair, damp from the steam and humidity, stuck against your skin. And he definitely ignored the way that as the weed started to affect you, you leaned your head onto his shoulder.
What he couldn’t ignore? When you asked him what you could do to help him.
“Help?” Remus asked you bemusedly, jostling his shoulder and forcing you to sit up and return his gaze.
“Yeah; you seem tense, stressed.”
Remus let out a confused chuckle from his nose. “That’s really not anything you need to worry about.”
You laughed back at him, nudging him with your elbow. “Lupin.” You chided. “You were willing to give up your private pool time, you’ve shared your weed with me, and you’ve let me intrude on your bath; let me worry about it.”
And he doesn’t know how you did it, he’s not even sure he remembers how the rest of the conversation went – one moment the two of you were sitting an entire swimming pool apart and pretending the other wasn’t there, and the next moment he was sitting on the edge of the pool with his hands tangled in your hair as you took him in your mouth.
“Christ, fuck, I’m gonna cum.” He tried warning you, tapping your shoulder to get your attention.
Like the watery siren that you were, all you did was moan and take him deeper, and in another moment, he was spilling down your throat.
Remus was sure he looked absolutely wrecked; naked, soaking, exhausted, a few fresh wounds from last night, and his permanent eye bags a more dramatic purple today on account of his lack of sleep last night.
Not you though; somehow even though you’d just done all the work, you looked ethereal. Wet hair pooling in the water around you as you sunk into the suds up to your collarbones, your lips swollen and glistening from your fantastic work if you asked Remus, and eyes a mischievous magnet nearly luring Remus back into the pool completely against his will.
“Godric, you’re good at that.” He breathed embarrassingly. Thankfully, you only laughed at with him.
“I’m sure you meant that as a compliment, Lupin; but it sort of sounds like you’re calling me a whore.”
Remus cackled at that, thankful that his time in the water eased the soreness in his ribs before doing so.
“If you give me a few moments, I’ll return the favour dove.”
“Don’t worry about it.” You offered, moving back to the other side of the pool to retrieve the book you’d deserted in favour of pot, and then in favour of cock. “I’ll just take an I.O.U.”
Or maybe it started at the Ravenclaw afterparty following their win against Hufflepuff. You showed up with your friends fashionably late and clearly having pre-gamed to some extend it Barty’s uncoordinated movements were anything to go by.
He noticed you every once in a while, flitting around the party with various friends, dancing to various tunes, participating in various games over conversations; but something was different about you. You weren’t as...glowy.
Your smile never met your eyes, and your laughs weren’t carefree – not like they were in the tub. Not like they ought to be.
But hey, you helped him when he needed it, and he did technically owe you.
He brushed past you and gently pulled on your elbow as he continued moving. When you turned back to see what had happened, he nodded toward the exit.
He didn’t bother turning around to see if you were following him, he just carried on down the stairs of Ravenclaw tower before turning the corner to an empty corridor.
“Oi, Lupin; your legs are longer than mine. Slow down!” You called. 
He didn’t realise at that time how much it meant to him that you had followed; hindsight being 20/20, and all.
“Where are we going?” You queried as you caught up and walked in step with him.
“You’ll see.” He said simply, cutting across the hall and opening the door to an empty classroom.
“Going to teach me how to translate Ancient Runes, Lupin?” You joked, though your affect was clearly lacking.
“I’m going to help.” He responded simply, leaning backwards against the professor’s desk.
“Help?”
“Right.”
You smirked and raised a singular perfectly manicured eyebrow at him, looking him up and down with a suggestive glance.
“What exactly are you to help me with?”
“You seem worried, tense.” He repeated your exact words from the tub a little over a week ago.
You offered him a half smile that, once again, never met your eyes. “That’s not something you need to worry about.”
He offered you a soft smile in return. “I do owe you, though.”
Remus doesn’t know what it was that convinced you to accept his offer. One moment he was leaning casually against the professor’s desk as you watched him warily from the door to the classroom, and the next moment he had you splayed out on the desk before him with the skirt of your dress bunched up around your waist and his head between your legs.
Now, it’s important to note that Remus is a humble and modest person. In fact, he’s really quite self-conscious. He didn’t come from a notable family and compared to his friends he was basically a pauper, he was scarred and tall and lanky, and due to his lycanthropy, he avoided meaningful relationships; meaning that whilst his friends all enjoyed relationships and situationships, he stayed religiously single.
All that being said, there was something Remus knew to be true that he felt worth bragging about.
He was fucking good in bed.
So his ego was properly stroked when you threw your head back so hard that it made a painful whacking sound against the wood of the desk with just the first stripe of his tongue through your folds.
Like a man starved, he buried his face between your legs and hardly ever came back up for air. He pulled your hips flush to his chest with your legs thrown over his shoulders and his arms hugging your thighs that he used as earmuffs.
Remus could easily call this one of his new favourite places to be, especially with the sinful sounds escaping your mouth.
He used his thumb to tease your clit, thrusting his tongue in your hole a few times before bringing it back out to run through your lips.
“Oh, Merlin!” You cried, causing him to chuckle, which caused you to flinch slightly at the feeling of his cold breath against your cunt.
“Come now, L/N; you know that’s not my name.”
You let out another cry as he wasted no time diving back in, his nose rubbing at your clit as his tongue continued its assault.
Remus’ efforts were rewarded in the form of you cumming on his face and your body falling limp below him.
He allowed you to catch your breath as he fought to catch his own, ignoring his knees crying in protest from having spent the last however long supporting his weight on the hard stone floor.
“Oh gods.” You breathed finally, opening your eyes and stealing a shy glance at Remus, still stationed near your core.
He smiled wolfishly at you. “Better?”
You laughed; a real, hard laugh that had been missing from you all night. “Much.” You agreed readily, accepting his outstretched hand and sitting up on the edge of the desk and pushing your skirt back down to cover yourself. “Thank you, Lupin.”
Remus shrugged nonchalantly as he pulled out a cigarette and lit it with a snap of his fingers, pushing open a window with a flick of his wand. “What are friends for?”
You snorted inelegantly; a far cry from the proper Pureblood heiress you’d been raised to be as you pulled your panties back on and took careful, albeit slightly wobbly, steps to join him at the window.
“Are we friends now?”
“Were we not friends before?” He countered, offering you a drag from his smoke that you easily accepted. He was sure his lips, tongue, and now the end of his cigarette still tasted like you.
“I didn’t think your kind was supposed to be friends with mine.” You offered, not looking at him as you passed the cigarette back.
“Blood status, really L/N?”
You scoffed derisively. “Please, Lupin. Give me some credit.”
It seemed to Remus that you looked almost hurt at his insinuation.
“I meant Gryffindor’s and Slytherin’s.”
“Perhaps we can be the first.”
“Do many of your friends see you naked, Lupin?”
Remus grimaced at that. “Honestly? More than I’d like, yes.”
And there it was again, that uninhibited laugh. Remus felt vindicated in his task for this evening.
“Alright, friends then.” You agreed, reaching out for his cigarette and taking a long drag before returning it to him. “Let me know when you might need my help again, Lupin.”
“Likewise.”
And maybe it was the day that he had Avery pinned against the wall by the collar of his shirt for calling a first year Hufflepuff a Mudblood.
There was blood dripping from Remus’ nose onto the collar of his uniform shirt from an elbow to the face as he spat various threats promises of pain and maiming, when he felt a gentle hand on the small of his back.
Due to the tension radiating through Remus’ body considering how close it was to the moon, his first reaction was to throw an elbow behind him. He thanked every deity possible that you were shorter than him when you ducked expertly to dodge his assault.
“Let him go.” You said simply.
Remus felt his brows furrow as he let out a protesting grumble.
“McGonagall is coming.” You continued.
Remus looked from you back to Avery who was now smirking at him. If Remus left now, Avery would tell McGonagall what Remus did; if Remus stayed, he could tell McGonagall what Avery had said.
“He won’t say anything.” You argued - as if you had heard Remus’ internal conundrum - causing Avery’s face to fall and both boys to whip their heads to you.
“And why the bloody hell won’t I, L/N?” Avery spat.
Your eyes moved from Remus’ to Avery’s where they took on a horrifyingly cold quality, no doubt the result of your cold and indifferent parents raising you like a proper Pureblood heir.
“Because I know where you sleep.” You spat lowly.
Remus watched as Avery fought to remain defiant, but as he heard the sound of McGonagall’s footsteps approaching, let out a frustrated groan.
“Fine. Sod off.” He barked, pushing Remus away from him roughly and stalking off towards the Slytherin dungeons.
Remus angrily picked up his book bag and began stalking down the corridor in the opposite way.
His blood was boiling, the tension in his shoulders and neck was starting to give him a headache and every step he took aggravated the matter.
He turned hastily around a corner when the strap of his book bag was pulled off his shoulder.
“What?” He hissed when he turned to see you with the other end of his strap in your hand.
“This way.”
“L/N.”
“Lupin.” You countered severely, voice intoning no nonsense.
Remus allowed you to drag him by his bookbag like a dog down a seemingly abandoned corridor and into an empty classroom before you locked the doors and threw up a silencing charm.
“What are you doing?” He muttered admittedly far more petulantly than you presently deserved from him.
“Helping.” You answered simply as you began undoing your school tie.
“I’m fine.” He spat, plopping himself down roughly into a chair. 
“Right.” You said sarcastically. “And you wouldn’t have continued to punch the first arse you saw on your way back to Gryffindor, huh?” You asked as you started pulling off your top and exposing your lacy black bra. “And I may not be an expert, but you’re a long way from Gryffindor tower which means your chances of running into an arse were really rather high.”
Remus held his hands up to his face and pinches at his temples, trying to stave off the incoming migraine and the overwhelming urge to tell you to fuck off, which he knew he really didn’t want to do. 
Suddenly you were in nothing but your bra and panties, kneeling before him and fussing with his belt.
“This really isn’t necessary, L/N.” He offered without much fervour. 
“What are friends for?” You asked quietly as you pulled his belt from the loops of his trouser.
“You don’t have to.”
“Do you want me to stop?” You asked pointedly, pausing your movements and looking up at him. You were giving him a choice; an out. Did he want to blow off some steam, or did he want to spend the rest of his day pissed off and tense?
Did he want you to stop?
“No.” He admitted.
Your eyes softened, though everything else about your face remained impassive as you undid the button and zip to his trousers and began encouraging them down his legs.
He decided to give up on his temper tantrum and assist you in the unenviable task of disrobing him and pulled you up into his lap.
“I don’t need anything.” You squeaked as he had you straddle his lap, your hair falling over your shoulders and tickling his own from your place above him.
“I’m not going to get in a fight and be a selfish lover all in the same day, L/N.” He said in faux admonishment. “Friends look after each other, yeah?”
And he’s not sure what swayed you. One moment he had you perched precariously above him as he gently nipped at your neck, and the next moment he was brutally thrusting up into you with no lack of desperation. 
“Fuckin’ hells you feel amazing.” He grunted as you mewled above him, eyebrows furrowed and eyes screwed shut causing Remus to worry momentarily.
“Are you okay?” He asked breathlessly. You moaned in response and dropped your chin onto his shoulder.
“Hey, dove, you okay?” He asked again, pulling you from him and slowing his movements.
“Don’t you dare fucking stop, Lupin.” You barked before you pulled his face to yours by the ends of his hair for a searing kiss. 
He grinned somewhat maniacally into the kiss and lifted you from his lap as he stood with his cock still lodged deep within you and perched you on the edge of the desk.
“You’re a bossy girl, aren’t you?” He taunted, pushing roughly into you from this new angle and causing you to cry out. “You like telling men what to do, dove?”
You gasped as Remus found the magic little spot he’d been searching for and he doubled down in his thrusts with renewed vigour. 
“That’s okay.” He continued, brushing a strand of hair away from your face that had gotten stuck in some of your lipgloss. “I like being told what to do.”
“Please! Please, please please.” You whined, a pretty sheen of sweat dusted your skin and began to pool on the divot of your collarbone. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck me.”
“Working on it.”
You were apparently coherent enough to laugh at that which was torture for Remus who was currently hanging on by a fucking thread as your giggles caused your cunt to clench torturously around his cock.
“Come on, pretty girl. Come on, cum for me, yeah? You’re close; I can tell. Cum for me.” He started chanting, moving his hand that was currently holding your knee up near his ribs to rub circles around your clit.
“Cum for me, L/N.”
“Oh fuck.” You shouted as your orgasm tore through you; Remus felt almost sick from the effort not to follow you over the edge immediately, wanting to help you ride out yours to fruition, but your walls pulsating around him left him very little control over the matter.
“Fuck.” Remus growled, and unfortunately that was the only warning you got before slammed into you once more, twice more, and was then spilling inside you causing your cunt to grow impossibly more wet and warm.
You let out a desperate breath and fell forward into Remus’ chest; he was ashamed to admit how much he relished in the intimacy - ignoring the very intimate act that had already taken place. 
“Fuck Lupin, you’re an animal.” You breathed out with a laugh.
Remus let out a surprised bark of laughter as he looked down at you.
“You have no idea.”
And if it wasn’t any of those, perhaps it was a few weeks later, when Remus saw a regal looking owl fly into the Great Hall over the Slytherin table, and with a grand war cry dropped an important looking letter in front of you, causing the rest of your table to fall silent. 
Remus watched as Regulus Black’s jaw tightened and Barty Crouch Junior’s spoon fell back into his porridge as they watched you open it.
Remus watched as all colour seemed to drain from your face and your jaw fell slack, though not open.
The rest of the Hall seemed completely unaware of the turmoil taking place over at the Slytherin table; everyone but Remus and, apparently, Sirius Black. 
“Shit.” Sirius whispered under his breath quietly, alerting neither Peter nor James who were currently in a heated debate about whether pumpkin pasties or sugar quills were the better treat from Honeydukes.
“What is it?” Remus asked him quietly. Sirius seemed nearly surprised that Remus had noticed, though schooled his expression quickly.
“Marriage announcement, she’s been betrothed.” He sneered the word, his nose actually wrinkling in disgust. “‘Sold off’ is a more appropriate term. It’s too bad, I quite liked her.”
Remus didn’t really like the feeling that settled in his stomach when he considered you being married off, but he didn’t have time to think on it too hard before he watched you storm over to Avery, Mulciber, and Snape before grabbing the former by the nape of his neck and slamming his head down into the table.
Remus was up and over to you in an instant with Sirius close behind, beaten only by Barty and Regulus who had the advantage of proximity.
“You miserable fucking wanker! You’ll fucking rot for this!” You screamed as Regulus fought and nearly lost in his battle of holding you back as Barty began sparring with your newfound enemy.
“I’ll fucking kill you for this Avery! You watch your fucking back!” You screeched. Regulus - for what reason, Remus couldn’t know - thought now a good moment to put you down, and as you launched yourself once again for what he was sure was Avery’s jugular, Remus threw you over his shoulder and took off out of the Great Hall.
“Put me down!” You shouted.
“No.” 
“Fuck off, Lupin.” You cried, grabbing at his jumper and slamming your fists into his lower back as he took the stairs two at a time. 
“You’re fine, L/N.”
You squealed and began kicking your legs out, causing him to use both arms to pin them to his torso.
“Stop it.”
“Put me down!”
“Stop it. Stop fighting me.”
“I hate you.”
“That’s fine.” He said, though it felt anything but. But he knew, you weren’t really mad at him, you perhaps weren’t even really mad at Avery.
“I hate you.” You said quietly this time.
“That’s alright.”
You had given up on your fight by the time Remus got to his destination. He was sure his shoulder in your stomach was causing you issues and the blood had to have been rushing to your head, but you remained placid as he hoisted you back up right and set you down on the floor of the Astronomy tower. 
Your face was wet and your hair was a mess as you took gasping breaths. 
This was beyond Remus’ wheelhouse when it came to you; he was good for eating you out, blowing off some steam, quickies, and the odd toke or two, but this? This was beyond his area of expertise. 
He decided to sit down beside you - both your backs pressed against the cold stone of the castle in a way he was sure felt good against your skin that was sizzling and crackling with fury. He didn’t say anything; there was nothing to say, nothing that he could say, and nothing he’d really know to say at a moment like this. Perhaps he should have left you to your friends; to the Purebloods who got it. Though, Regulus seemed willing to let you help Barty kill Avery, so perhaps it was better that you were up here with him instead. 
That's what he’d tell himself for now.
It could have been minutes or even an hour before you finally took a deep, shuddering breath.
“Why’d you do that?”
“Do what?” Remus asked quietly.
“Stop me.”
“You stopped me first.”
You let that sit in the air as you looked out into the horizon. 
“What do you need, L/N? What… what can I do?” He begged desperately.
Remus was certain the entire school could hear the sound of his heart breaking at the devastated expression that graced your face when you turned to make eye contact with him; your eyes seemed to beg Remus for something but he couldn’t decipher what it was that you were asking of him.
“I want to…to forget.” You sobbed. “I want to not think, I want to turn it all off for a fucking, god’s damned minute. I want it all to stop.”
“Okay.” He offered readily.
“I want it to stop.”
“Okay.” He repeated, taking your hand in his and giving it a gentle squeeze.
“I’m right here.” He encouraged you. “Tell me what you need.”
“I need to forget.”
“Okay.” Remus said again, pulling at your hand and encouraging you into his lap. “I’m right here; take what you need.”
And Remus wasn’t sure what went through your mind as you searched between his hazel eyes. One moment you were carefully perched above him in his lap; tear tracks staining your cheeks and eyes full of sorrow. And in the next moment, your uniform skirt was hiked up and panties pulled to the side, and Remus’ belt was undone and his trousers were pulled low around his thighs as you bounced up and down on his cock like it was the solution to all of life's problems.
Remus wished it were true, he really did. But if all he could do at this moment was help you turn your brain off and forget the unpleasantness waiting for you back in the castle for just a little bit, then that’s what he would do. 
You had your face shoved into his neck and he was quite sure you were biting down on the junction between his shoulder and his neck - in an attempt to quell your moans, your crying, or just out of frustration, Remus didn’t know, and quite frankly he didn’t care either way. You grinded down onto him and he felt you applying pressure to your clit against his pelvic bone, prompting him to start rubbing it with his thumb. 
“You can let go, gorgeous. No one’s here.” He whispered.
You bit down harder in response and began riding him with an air of desperation. 
“I’m right here.”
And then he felt it. First, he felt your tears fall onto his shoulder, then he felt your teeth break his skin, and finally he felt your walls clench around him.
You stayed latched onto him; your arms around his waist, your hands clenched into the fabric of his jumper, your teeth on his skin and your cunt on his cock as he thrusted up into you and found his own release with very little effort on account of the aftershocks still shuddering through you. 
You sat like that for some time afterwards; the gentle breeze causing goosebumps to cover each of you as the sweat began to cool on your skin, and Remus rubbed circles into your bare thighs with his thumbs.
Unfortunately - for reasons Remus wasn’t willing to ponder on at present - you pulled away, a string of spit connecting your lips to the place on Remus’ neck he was sure now adorned the shape of your teeth.
“Sorry.” You rasped, running a hand over the newest of many wounds now decorating his skin. He didn’t want you to be sorry, though, he thought perhaps this might be his favourite one; it wasn’t the result of some hideous monster who took out its rage on him, but instead marked a tender moment between him and his…friend. 
You pulled your wand to cast a healing charm over it when Remus grabbed your wrist.
“Don’t.”
Your reddened and swollen eyes looked at him inquisitively, causing Remus to flush in embarrassment.
“Leave it, I’ve already got so many; what’s one more?” He tried to joke, though he could tell as you looked back down at the bite mark, it fell flat. 
“I’m sorry.” You said again, and Remus shook his head.
“Don’t be.”
“Thank you.” You said quietly, looking into Remus’ eyes imploringly, as if trying to convey your gratitude through your very soul. “For stopping me.”
This moment suddenly felt too charged for Remus; it was different somehow, something had happened, though he wasn’t sure what.
Not then, at least.
“That’s what friends do.” He said noncommittally. “It was an I.O.U.”
He managed to force a small smile out of you for that, and he was grateful. 
So perhaps it was all of those together, in addition to the many blowjobs, many quickies, many quiet, loud, rough, or awkward fucks the two of you had in between.
But maybe…
Maybe it was the way your smile lit up the room when Barty or Pandora said something particularly outlandish or funny; your laughter echoing through the halls like an invitation to experience a secret joy that only you and your friends knew about.
Or maybe it was the way you seemed to be the only one who could weasel a smile, a laugh, or a fond eye roll out of the notoriously cold and apathetic Regulus.
Or maybe it was how a dimple in your left cheek only appeared when you were particularly proud of an achievement you made or a grade you received. 
Or maybe it was the kind way you sheltered the younger Slytherin’s from the brunt of the Marauder’s pranks without impeding their more good natured ones.
Or maybe it was the way you hexed McLaggen for hitting on Lily Evans, and then again for calling her a filthy Mudblood when she refused his advancements.
Or maybe it was the way that you could always tell when Remus was feeling sad or low and needed help, needed something, needed you.
And fuck.
He needed you.
Remus wasn’t exactly sure how this thing started for him.
One moment you were on your hands and knees in his bed and he was fucking into you from behind; his body curled around yours as he rubbed at your clit expertly to push you over that edge for the third time tonight. And the next moment you were spread out and pliant beneath him, head thrown back in ecstasy as he lazily pushed into you.
He didn’t often get moments like this; moments to just sit and admire you. 
This thing he had with you, it was delicate, precarious. It was precious. And he wasn’t going to go fucking it up by forcing it to be something it wasn’t.
You were friends.
You were friends who helped each other.
You were friends who have seen each other naked; who have tasted each other’s sweat, skin, flesh, blood, and cum. 
You were friends who have spent time with each other, on each other, and in each other.
You were friends.
That’s what you had agreed to, that was the arrangement, that was all this was supposed to be.
And then Remus’ stupid sodding heart had to go and fucking yearn for you.
It ached to sit beside you in the library without it being a precursor for one of you to be on your knees in the stacks moments later. 
It ached to ask you about your day for the sole purpose of getting to hear about it and not just as a means to help you take your mind off it by bending you over in an empty classroom. 
It ached to watch you, uninhibited throughout the day, without it causing grief, or angst, or hungry looks being exchanged. 
It ached to taste your lips without tasting the leftover sex from previous actions. 
It ached for you to climb into the shower with him after this, to throw on one of his ratty old band tees, and to stay.
It ached for you to stay.
He wanted you to stay.
But you guys were friends.
And that was enough, it had to be enough. He would make it be enough. 
So sue him; sue him for taking this extra moment to admire your form below him, when you were only his in this moment. Sue him for memorising the way your hair pooled around your head like a halo even after all the tugging and ruffling that it has been subjected to. Sue him for watching the way your breasts bounced with each gentle thrust of his hips, the way your ribs expanded and contracted with each breath, the way the two of you fit so perfectly together; your body accepting him with grace and ease as he slotted the two of you together over and over and over again.
He ached for you.
And damn him - damn him and his bleeding heart and this beautiful girl beneath him - he reached out to pull a strand of hair that laid plastered to the side of your sweaty face.
He didn’t just ache for you.
He yearned for you.
He loved you.
He was in love with you.
And Godric only knows how far gone he was or for how long now. But it didn’t matter; none of it mattered. All that mattered was this ethereal being that, for just this moment, was all his. 
He doesn’t know how long your eyes had been returning his gaze. He supposed it didn’t matter, because he knew; he knew it was written all over his face. 
He may as well have been flashing a neon sign on his forehead: “My name is Remus, and I’m wildly in love with you”. And if the sign hadn’t been enough, he was sure his actions were.
There was no longer any desperation in his actions; no destination in mind as he slowly pulled out of you and pushed back in again. His hands weren’t placed in precise locations to elicit a specific reaction of any sort, but rather roved languidly over your body in meticulous worship. 
And if that hadn’t been enough, he was sure that the way you were staring deep into his eyes, into his soul; you saw. You knew.
The jig was up.
He had been outed. 
Your eyes widened minutely and began to flit around Remus’ face as your grip on his arms stationed on either side of your body loosened. 
You knew.
Though it was all for naught at this point, Remus scrunched his eyes closed as if he could save any of his remaining dignity; not that there was much left.
This was it, it was all going to be over.
He lowered himself over your body and pressed his face into your neck, hiding like the coward he was as he picked up the pace of his thrusts.
Gently, tentatively, he felt you press a cautious hand between his shoulder blades and another to the nape of his neck. 
Somehow, the tenderness in your touch hurt more. 
He came with a strangled cry, feeling humiliating tears fall from his eyes as he filled you up for what he was certain would be the last time.
He melted into your hold and cried silently into your shoulder, and you let him.
Your hand that was stationed between his shoulder blades never moved, but your hand in his hair kneaded gentle, soothing circles into his scalp.
He wanted you to stop; he wanted you to stop because this was all he really wanted... to be here, with you, like this.
He wanted the rough and the fun and the biting and the hair pulling, sure. But he wanted the gentle, the soft, the affection, and the innocent intimacy, too. 
That wasn’t fair though; it wasn’t fair to you. You never asked for it, and you never offered it.
You never asked for it.
You never offered it.
He decided that he’d been hiding in your neck for far longer than he had any right to, and slowly pulled his face away from its sanctuary. 
He looked up at you through his curls in shame to see you had tear tracks down your cheeks too.
What a fucking mess.
He was a fucking mess; and he’d dragged you down into it.
He slowly pulled out of you and summoned a tissue to clean up the cum leaking from your folds. You hissed at the sensation and he whispered an apology before pulling on a pair of pyjama pants and throwing you a t-shirt that he hoped to fucking God was clean, and sat on the edge of James’ bed; facing you, though his head was bowed in shame.
“I’m sorry.” He offered pathetically, knowing it was not even close to helpful in this situation.
“When…” You started, voice both gravely from the sex and tight with emotions as new tears fell. “When did this happen?”
He didn’t have an answer; he didn’t know. He couldn't say.
“When,” you tried again. “When did this change?”
Your face fell into your hands as you began to cry in earnest.
He wondered what part of this upset you the most; the loss of this friend that you had in him? The pressure to offer him more than you were willing to give? The feeling of guilt over not being able to return his feelings?
You didn’t seem to be waiting for an actual answer from him, but were rather voicing the thoughts running through your head as they came to you.
“I should go.” He whispered, even though this was his room, even though you were wearing his shirt.
“Don’t.” You demanded harshly, eyes blazing with a fire he never imagined ever being shot at him. “Don’t you dare leave me here like this; not after that.”
He nodded quickly, sitting back down on James’ bed as you wiped angrily at your face.
He wished you wouldn’t; he wished you’d be more gentle.
He didn’t get to wish things like that, though.
“When, when did this become love?” You asked in a mixture of shock and bemusement; the thought of an equation you couldn’t solve was clearly insulting to you. 
Remus shook his head in disgrace. “I’m sorry.” He offered weakly.
You scoffed out a sarcastic laugh. “Sorry for what, exactly? Making me fall in love with you? Making me fall in love with you and not telling me about it?”
“You... too?” He rasped, looking at you with a slack jaw.
“Fuck.” You seethed, standing up and beginning to pace the dorm room for a few moments as you seemed to think back on the entire duration of this situation.
“When!?” You demanded again after a few moments.
“I don’t know.” He admitted honestly, placatingly.
“Fuck.” You paused in place, bringing your hands to your mouth. Remus hated it, but you paused right in front of the hearth, causing your form to be illuminated by an ethereal glow. He thought you looked beautiful.
“I’m sorry.” He said, for daring to even think such a thing.
But, maybe…maybe if you loved him too, he could think such things?
“Fuck.” You said again, still staring unseeingly at the wall of his dorm as you stood in nothing but an oversized shirt in the middle of the room.
“What-” Remus started, taking a cautious step towards you as if you were a wild animal poised to run at any given moment. “What do you want, Y/N?”
Not one muscle in your body moved save for your eyes as they shot over to him.
“Anything.” He whispered.
I’ll give you anything you want; be anything you want. Say it and I’m yours. I’m yours.
I’m already all yours.
“I need to pee.” You said plainly.
Remus’ chest deflated in relief that you weren’t asking him to obliviate this memory from your mind.
“And then…” You took a shuddering breath that made Remus want to fold you up and keep you safe in his breast pocket for the rest of his life. “And then I want to talk. About this, okay? Please?”
Remus nodded quickly, readily, so unbelievably willingly.
“Don’t leave, please. Please be here when I get back.” You whispered; eyes, voice, and body language far more vulnerable than he ever remembered seeing from you (and ever cared to see from you again).
“Always.”
And he kept that promise.
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woke up blessed this morning 🙌
How about ploy marauders going to a party and Sirius promised to do readers make up, but is late so the other two are making an attempt. Sure they might know how to do Sirius's messy style, but do they know big dramatic styles? Can James do a perfect wing?
<3 fem, 1k
“Can you stay still?” Remus asks, turning your face a half inch where it’s held in his hand. 
“Can James stop kissing me?” you ask. 
James pulls his face from the curve of your neck, the warmth of his lips lingering on your skin. “Sorry, are you busy?” 
“You’re supposed to be helping.”
“Don’t act like you weren’t enjoying yourself.” 
You smile. Remus rubs the softest curve under your eye with his thumb, the tip of his tongue sticking out between his lips. He doesn’t know he’s doing it, concentrating instead on your face and the wetness of your makeup where it’s beginning to sink in. “I don’t know what I’m doing,” he sighs. 
“You know better than I do,” James says. 
You don’t know a thing about it, that’s why you’d arranged for Sirius to do your makeup tonight before Marl’s birthday bash, but where is your awful boyfriend? Late, decidedly unavailable for makeup-ing. 
“You’ve done his mascara a thousand times,” James argues with Remus. 
“Yes, but Sirius has never asked me to do his blush.” Remus’ hand moves to the side of your face. “You are lovely, though. I think using only a little of everything is working in our favour.” 
“Sirius only lets him do mascara because he already has nice eyelashes,” you worry. It won’t matter if Remus messes up or doesn’t get close enough to the root. 
“Yes, and because he likes it when Remus holds his face like that,” James points out, eyeing Remus’ hand where it stays at your cheek. Remus has long fingers, ever-so slightly thick with two golden rings that kiss your chin as he lets his hand fall, and he’s always gentle. 
“James, I’m tapping out.” 
James pretends to roll up sleeves he isn’t wearing, your bulkiest boyfriend in a short-sleeved t-shirt that showcases the lean muscle of his forearms, the not so lean ridges of his biceps. They tense as he sits up, his knee jabbing yours, the bed creaking dangerously beneath your angled weight. “What’s there left to do? She’s gorgeous.” 
“What did you want?” Remus asks you. 
“Uh, I wanted, you know…” You sound ridiculously shy. You wish you could just do all of this faff by yourself rather than force their attention, but neither boy seems annoyed. “He does that smudgey eyeliner, it makes my eyes look bigger. And lipgloss, but I can do that myself.” 
“Are you kidding? That’s the best part,” James says. He gives you a smile confident enough to reassure you and handsome enough to make you shy from his touch all over again. “Pass me the black pencil, Remus. I’ve got this.” 
James does not got this, his expression melding from happy, adoring, to perturbed, and then annoyed. “Aw, I’ve fucked it.” 
Remus shakes his head vehemently. “You haven’t! We just need a wet wipe.” 
They search the room for Sirius’ wet wipes and come up empty-handed. A towel is wetted and taken carefully to your eyes instead, cold and rough on your eyelids. 
“Be gentler,” Remus whispers. 
James is practically atop you know, your chin tilted up to his hand. “Sorry,” he whispers in turn, then to you solely, “‘m I hurting you?” 
“No.” You’re whispering too. It feels appropriate; they’re both very close to you, and this movement might fix or ruin your makeup with the party’s start time drawing ever closer. 
“I think I’ve fixed it,” James says, taking the pencil up again, the nib soft as it rolls over the corner of your eye. “Sirius can perfect it in the car, right?” 
“I thought you were good at everything?” you ask. 
James turns your face up impossibly higher, craning his head down for a peck. “Yes,” he whispers severely, “I’m good at everything. But Sirius is usually better. Quick, let’s find your lipgloss before we’re late.” 
Remus tries to tell James that it isn’t true, a serious conversation at a bad time, and James won’t listen to a word of it. They quibble over who’s doing your lipgloss, bathe you in compliments when they’re done —aw, dove, you look so cute, and cute? she looks perfect— then suddenly an abrupt beep is sounding outside. The three of you scramble into your jackets and down the stairs, meeting Sirius where he leans against the car. He throws the keys to Remus, ushering you into the backseat with him for some last minute clean up. 
“Hey, they’ve done a good job,” he praises, another hand on your face to turn it up kindly to the light. “Did you bring your lipgloss?”  
You nod quickly and dig for it in your jacket. 
“What!” James says from the front, turning in the passenger seat to complain. “That’s the one thing we did perfectly.” 
The car starts. Remus laughs to himself behind the steering wheel. 
“Did I say otherwise?” Sirius asks, letting his fingers curve toward the back of your neck. Pale in the light, eyes lit with something funny you’ve yet to hear, he dips in close to you and talks quietly, “I’m sorry, I promised I’d do your makeup for the party. But you’ve all done well without me, you look perfect, especially your lips.” 
“Then what did you want it for?” you ask, confused, your seat belt pulling as Sirius encourages you forward. 
“To reapply.” He taps your neck with a fingertip. “Spare a kiss? I promise I’ll fix any mess.” 
Commotion from the front seat.
“James–” Remus warns. 
“What? I want to watch.” 
“Freak,” Sirius says lovingly. 
“How am I a freak? She’s my girlfriend, you’re my boyfriend, and you’re doing that voice like you’re gonna lay her down in the back seat.” 
“James.” 
requests r open!! pls think about reblogging if you enjoyed, I hope u did either way!!!
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The one With The Heat Wave (1/2)
 Part 1/2
Wolfstar x reader      Sirius Black x reader      Remus Lupin x reader      Sirius Black x Remus Lupin      Sirius Black x reader x Remus Lupin 
Established couple (throuple), Hint of possible Poly!marauders x reader to come?
Feel free (after reading) to let me know where you guys would like part 2 to go…
Summary: Reader is very (sexually) frustrated, it’s also far, far too hot out
Warnings: Sexual Content (but no smut…yet)
Some fluff
Word Count: 1.1k
The heat wave started a week ago. And it had been a week since either of your boyfriends had touched you. 
You’re sitting in between them in one of Bins’s history of magic lectures, right at top of the cascading auditorium, both the farthest row away from the ground - and your terribly boring lecturer. Everyone’s breath is coming out in tight puffs and long sighs, and that smell of sweat hangs heavy in the air. 
‘You’d think they’d take pity on us’, Sirius says, aggressively fanning his face. He’s more pink than he should be, and his face is dotted almost entirely in perfectly round baubles of sweat. 
‘Surely this classifies as youth endangerment’, James chimes in from the row below you, and you can almost imagine the steam sizzling up from the top of his head. It’s far too hot, and everyone in the room but the ghost is feeling it. 
‘Didn’t McGonagall say something about a charm on the walls to cool the air down?’, Sirius asks to no one in particular.
‘We’re in bloody Scotland Padfoot, there’s no way she was being serious’, Remus pants, sparing Sirius a glace that somehow manages to be equally sympathetic as it is exasperated. The heat has got everyone on a short fuse. But worst of all neither of the boys have touched you beyond tight chaste kisses, and gentle pats to skin in almost a week. Since this hellfire decided to settle above ground. 
Remus has got his sleeves rolled all the way up. His muscles and vascular veins are more than poking out from his now near-translucent white school shirt. You know some of the Hufflepuff girls two seats over have noticed too, most definitely fanning themselves over more than just the hot air. It’s almost as nauseating. The smell isn’t helping either. The perspiration of the other 30 students in the room pales in comparison to the men right next to you. Their smell, the heavy breathing, and the undoubtedly sticky bodies beside you keep your mind entirely unsettled. Drawing your thoughts helplessly back to nights, and days spent in beds, bathtubs and broom closets. You hear your overworking heartbeat in two places at once, as blood rushes to your head and then all the way back down again.
‘Shhhh quiet, I can’t hear what he’s saying’, you chastise, motioning to Bins, your only hope is distracting yourself long enough to wait out this dry spell.
‘Sweetheart, no one can hear what he’s saying, he’s been mumbling for the last half hour’, Remus says.
‘And even if he wasn’t with the way everyone seems to be breathing like rabid dogs in here that would surely drown him out regardless’, Sirius adds, placing a gentle hand on your exposed thigh. The head rush is instant, like huffing a pack of cigarettes, or being doused in ice cold water. Then Sirius is retracting his hand back to fan his face. Leaving you to contemplate the newfound wetness between your legs. These slivers of contact were all you had to go on over the past week. Light touches, grazes and slip ups here and there. Far too minimal and devastatingly un-satisfying. It made your head spin, and your fingers tingle. You'd put on a brave face, but the waiting game was finally catching up to you.
‘I really don’t feel well’, you say, furrowing your brows together, gripping the wooden chair beneath you tightly. Desperately trying to bring balance to your very out of balance mind and body.
‘You and me both Y/N’, Sirius says under his breath, before turning to take notice of your genuinely sickly state. In an instant he’s fanning you instead, desperately, and with both hands.
Remus turns to look at you, and he isn’t able to hide his concern. 
‘Ohhh, my baby’, he coos, clasping his hands on either cheek to wipe your sweat away. You cross your legs in an instant.
‘Is it all too much for you?’ he continues, and you nod desperately between his hands, gripping onto his wrists to keep them there. It’s strangely counterintuitive. It’s the hottest week the Scottish Highlands have seen, probably ever, and you’re in despair to be touched. When you should really be shrinking away from any skin-to-skin contact. Somehow their attention is your salvation, the eternal cool to the blistering heat. 
Remus leans down to nip at your neck then, stealing a sweet kiss and a quick bite to the skin, soothing it with his tongue. And you fucking moan in your history of magic lecture. You’re reaching delirium, you really can’t be held accountable. Thank Godric, amongst the room full of overheating, whining students it isn’t particularly out of place. But even if someone pulled you up on it, you’re not sure you’d be embarrassed. Sirius’s hand returns to your thigh, gripping much tighter than before, sliding the tips of his fingers ever closer to the hem of your ruffled school skirt. Oh, they've definitely caught on. You start whimpering, practically shaking with need. ‘How about we head back up to the dorm? how does that sound?’, Sirius whispers in your ear, and you nod frantically. Remus is just looking at you, his hands still softly clasping your cheeks. His eyes gone black; pupils widened beyond belief. 
‘Just a reminder, public indecency is a crime’, James quips sharply from the row in front, his body contortioned to look at you from behind him. He sounds more frustrated than he does humorous in his remark, quite out of character for him. You’re not sure how long he’s been watching you three. Lost in your daze. He looks more out of it than he did just a minute ago, and his eyes lock onto yours. His lips are bitten, with sly traces of shredded skin, and he’s most definitely panting, as Sirius put it earlier: “like a rabid dog”. Your two boyfriends glance between each other, subtle knowing smirks gracing their lips.
‘Jealous, Prongs?’, Sirius tests, leaning forward endearingly, so the ends of his longer hair fan over James’s face.
‘Oh fuck off’, James whispers in defeat, and the tinge on his cheeks looks more like embarrassment than a just hot flush - as he turns his head back to face Bins at the front of the hall.
Remus and Sirius keep their eyes on one another for a little while, taking in James’s outburst. Some sort of silent communication takes place between them, and from the way you read them oh so easily you know they’re saying: ‘we’ll talk about that later’. 
Their attention returns to you. ‘How about we head up then, dove?’, Remus says, and you know it’s not really a question. 
‘y-yeah…’, you whimper, moving to stand as Sirius has already hastily packed up all your things on your behalf, slinging your bag over his shoulder. Remus keeps a firm hand around your waist, guiding the three of you out through the back of the lecture hall.
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(finally) writing another fic, and it will be poly!wolfstar x reader...so get excited
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um, very much in love with this
Darling, the possessive!Remus fic was sooo good!! 🩵😫
Could i request another part please?? Hwere reader is hiding something, maybe an injury or illness or scent or something stupid she did with James... idk what but something. Anyway, reader sees Siri and Rem, stops, makes eye contact, then bolts in the opposite direction 🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️
I feel like both (especially Rem) would instinvtively chase, maybe they find her begging Jamie to hide her 😭
Love you lots!! And remember to get enough rest 🩵
Do you have a moment to talk about our lord and saviour Jesus Christ? Sir? Don't run from the lord!!!! No, you're so right babes.
poly!wolfstar x fem!reader
CW: slight injury, nothing major, fluff
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“Okay, well the wound is closed but there’s not much I can do about the bruising or the blood on your shirt.” James said as he gently pulled your uniform shirt back down from where he’d been inspecting your ribs.
“That’s fine – I’ll ice it later; I’ve gotta meet the girls like five minutes ago.” You said as you pulled a jumper over yourself to hide the blood staining your shirt. 
“Are you sure you shouldn’t go to Madame Pomfrey?” James asked with a grimace.
You rolled your eyes. “If it hurts terribly, I’ll go later.”
“And you think you’ll be able to avoid Remus and Sirius until then?” James asked somewhat doubtfully. You grimaced in response. “This close to the moon, Remus will be able to smell that blood on you from across the castle.”
“I can’t worry about that right now; I need to go.” You said simply as the two of you rounded the corner. 
You halted suddenly as you spotted Remus and Sirius down the hall – they quickly noticed your tense demeanor which caused them to slowly cease their movements too, mirroring you as you stared them down and they you from across the corridor.
“James.” You murmured without moving a muscle. 
“Yeah?”
“Do you see them too?”
“Yeah.”
“Can you hide me?”
James groaned. “Y/N…”
“I can’t believe you’re leaving me to the wolves.” 
“I love you, you’re the sister I never had...but I’ve got a Regulus to think about, you know?”
“It’s been an honour knowing you.” You responded solemnly, nodding in understanding.
“God speed.” He whispered back before you took off in a sprint. 
You could hear a shout and heavy footfalls behind you alerting you to the fact that you were indeed being followed.
You rounded corners and climbed flights of stairs, lungs and legs burning from the effort as you very much regretted your choice to bolt. Maybe you could have talked about it? Maybe you could have convinced Remus you were fine and did not need medical attention? Maybe Sirius would have sided with you?
But no, you chose to run when Remus was at his most possessive, territorial, and protective, and he was with accompanied by Sirius who rivaled Remus’ full moon possessiveness all month round. And also, why the hell does this school have so many stairs!?
Suddenly, refuge came in the form of the third-floor girls’ lavatory. You barrelled your way through the door, clamoring into a stall and locking the door behind you. You sat on the toilet seat and pulled your knees to your chest, though it was all for naught, because even if no one could see your feet, they’d surely hear your laboured breathing. 
You heard the door open again and the scuffling of feet followed by deep sighs. You pointed your face to the ceiling as you listened to the footsteps growing closer and closer before Sirius’ head and arms flung over the top of the stall beside you where he beamed goofily at you. 
“Hey gorgeous! What’re you doing?” He sung casually.
“What are you doing in here? This is the girl’s room.” You hissed at him as your face heated in embarrassment – both from being caught hiding from your boyfriends and of your boyfriend for following you to the loo.
“Where you go, I go.” He said simply with a shrug as if talking to his girlfriend over a bathroom stall was common practice. 
“Do you really think there’s anywhere in this castle that you can hide that I won’t find you?” Remus deadpanned from your opposite side, and you spooked (nearly slipping into the damned toilet) as you noticed he too was standing on the toilet of the stall beside you in order to look down on you.
“Oh, for crying out loud.” You muttered as you stood from your toilet hideout and exited the stall.
“Not that I wouldn’t spend the rest of my life chasing you, darling but-” Sirius started teasingly before he was cut off by Remus.
“What happened!?” He rasped as he reached for you gently.
“I’m fine, Rem.” You tried, but he swatted your hands away.
Slowly, so slowly – as if he was afraid the fabric of your clothes would somehow bruise your skin – lifted your jumper to expose the bloody button up below it.
“Baby!” Sirius cooed in sympathy.
“I’m fine.” You reiterated.
Remus shot you an unimpressed look. “Forgive me if I don’t believe you. Can you take this off, please?” He said as he gently lifted you to sit on the edge of the bathroom counter, motioning to the jumper currently shielding his view. 
You acquiesced and also began lifting the side of your blouse up unprompted. Both boys hissed as they saw the bruising on your ribs.
“What happened?” Remus asked again, gently prodding the area.
“Some first years got a little too rowdy in the hallway – running around and not watching where they were going. I bumped into a suit of armour, but James healed it up.” Remus’ head snapped up to yours as Sirius’ gaze darkened. 
“Prongs healed you? On your side? With your shirt up?” Sirius asked expressionlessly. 
You rolled your eyes. “Oh, for goodness – yes! What’s the big deal?”
He continued his interrogation as if you hadn't said anything at all. “He saw your shirt pulled up like this? He touched you here?”
You sputtered, turning your attention to Remus. “He heals you every month!” 
He grimaced in sympathy but clearly agreed with Sirius. “I guess...just seems a little...intimate.” He conceded.
“Well, do I have to get all worried about you guys on the full moons? Or that he gets to share a dorm room with you?” You asked sarcastically. Sirius smirked at you.
“Awe babes, you don’t have to be jealous – we’re all yours!” He said in a sultry tone as he moved to stand between your legs.
“You’re not funny.” You deadpanned. 
“You should go to Madame Pomfrey, love.” Remus stated after completing whatever diagnostic inspection he was doing on your side.
“Wha- no! Rem, I’m fine. Nothing is broken, it’s not bleeding. I’ll ice it when I get back to my dorm tonight, but I’m supposed to meet the girls. Please don’t make a big deal of this.” You were embarrassed that you’d been reduced to begging, but you could not bail on Lily and Marlene again.
Remus grimaced. “Love, I’d feel better if you had it looked at...”
But Sirius Black – equally as likely to be your saviour and your damnation – opted to take pity on you. “Oh, come on Moons. We can fuss over her all night; let her spend time with the girls.”
Remus groaned and looked between the two of you before rolling his eyes in surrender. “Fine. But I will fuss over you tonight, got it?” He muttered sternly, but the love and affection that pooled in his eyes as he said it diminished his chiding greatly.
“Of course. I’d not have it any other way.” You sang back to him as he leaned in to press a kiss to your lips.
“Okay. Let’s get out of the girl’s loo.” Sirius said as he turned and bent down in front of you, still seated on the bathroom counter.
“What are you doing?” You asked incredulously. Sirius scoffed as if you were being intentionally difficult.
“Giving you a ride, obviously. Can’t let our poor injured dolly walk these corridors on her own.” He backed up further into you and tapped your thighs with his hands impatiently.
“I very well can, thank you very much. I’ll have you know that your poor injured dolly just outran her two boyfriends.” You scoffed indignantly. 
“You know Moons, perhaps she should go to Madame Pomfrey after all.”
“Okay, okay!” You shrilled as you clamored up onto Sirius’ back.
Remus chuckled and pecked a sweet kiss to your temple – now almost at eye level with him as he placed a gentle hand on your back, protectively close to your sore ribs. 
“Thank you for appeasing us, sweetheart.” He murmured into your hairline.
You feigned annoyance, but you’d do so happily for as long as these two men would let you. 
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grateful to have been very minimally involved in inspiring this lovely writer <3
Hi gorggg can i request an angst wolfstar fic where reader is kind of insecure of her placement within their relationship? like they’re both so close already and she’s a new addition so she kinda just feels out of place.
thank you for your amazing writing!! doing the world a favor❤️❤️❤️
Hey babes! Thanks SO much for the request 'cause truly, this is my shit. Now, I have to admit that I'm obsessed with these fics that have the same vibe by moonstruckme (poly!marauders) and super-clearlysaltybouquet (poly!wolfstar), so really, they're the blueprints/inspiration for this piece
also...I'm a whore for hurt/comfort. But you asked for ANGST...so I've given you only angst and no comfort. If you want comfort, you'll have to ask for a part two 💖 hope you love it!!!
poly!wolfstar x fem!reader
CW: insecurities in relationship, feeling out of place, angst, hurt no comfort
It felt silly, really, to feel as sad as you did. You were currently sitting with two boys who you’ve been basically in love with for so long - two boys who have proclaimed to feel the same way about you - and on the outside you were sure this looked like a really lovely moment.
It just didn’t feel very lovely. 
You didn’t think your discontentedness stemmed from anything the boys had done in particular, but even seeing the way they instinctively leaned closer to one another when anyone else approached the three of you left you feeling like an outsider looking in.
Maybe you were overthinking things. Maybe this was just your insecurities showing.
Or maybe…maybe…the three of you had made a mistake.
Maybe you weren’t cut out for polyamory; it certainly wasn’t for the weak, and it certainly wasn’t easy being the newest addition to the relationship. 
You felt lost in most conversations, missing key information that inside jokes, years of friendship, and living together in the same tower - the same dorm room – led to. It felt as though they were fluent in a language you were only starting to pick up, and you didn’t want them to have to slow down for your sake. You didn’t want one of them to have to play the role of translator just for your benefit. 
But then, why were you here?
You weren’t calm, relaxed, and witty like Remus. And you weren’t funny, exciting, and energetic like Sirius. They seemed to already balance each other out perfectly; maybe that’s why it felt so easy to fall into the role of a background character in your own relationship.
There was a brief ‘honeymoon’ period to your relationship; a time of public proclamations, handholding and PDA, dates, and spending every moment the three of you could together.
It was exciting.
And then it was less exciting – not to you, never to you - but it seemed to be that way for them.
Suddenly, it was dates and then them returning to their dorm – back home – without you. It was silent conversations with nothing but a look between the two of them that didn’t include you in the slightest. It was professors announcing partner projects, and them pairing together immediately which was fine, you told yourself, because you always partnered with Shelby anyway and that’s the way it had always been before.
Before. 
This is the way it had always been before. 
So, what were you doing here, exactly? What were you doing sitting on a blanket near the Black Lake with a book in your hand, while Sirius’ hand gripped around your ankle gently as Remus played with Sirius’ hair from where his head was laying in his lap, whilst Sirius and Remus talked about pranks, something funny that James said, and setting Peter up with some Hufflepuff girl? 
You could tell you were being insecure… that you were overthinking this. You could tell you were being unreasonable because every so often, Sirius’ hand wouldn’t just be resting around your ankle, but he would squeeze it gently or rub his thumb across your Achilles tendon as if to convince himself that you were still here; still real. And every so often, Remus would move his gaze from where it laid on his own book or away from Sirius whom he was speaking with to look at you… check on you… confirm you were still there; still okay. 
They cared. They had to, right? Cared that you were here? They wouldn’t have asked you otherwise, surely. They wouldn’t be making the effort to keep a hand on you, or their eyes on you. Surely, they would never have decided to open their relationship to include you in it.
But there it was…the truth.
It was their relationship. And they’d opened it up for you.
It should be the second part of that sentence that spoke to you the most, but in your mind and insecurities, the second seemed like the whole truth. 
This was their relationship.
You shouldn’t be here.
“You still with us, dove?” Remus asked gently, distracting you from your musings. You suddenly realized that your book you were holding had fallen limply into your lap and you were staring unseeingly at the Black Lake. The boys had apparently paused their conversation to look at you, and Sirius’ thumb continued its tender caressing of the soft of your joint.
“Yeah.” You said, but it came out scratchy. You cleared your throat and tried again. “Yeah, sorry, I must have zoned out for a second.”
Sirius wiggled your ankle. “Daydreaming again, huh? About us I bet.” He teased with a wink. 
You wiggled your ankle back at him as he leaned his head up from Remus’ lap, lips puckered in an ask (a demand) for a kiss.
This may be fleeting, so who were you to deny him?
You leaned forward on one hand, the other still holding your book, and pressed a kiss to the Black-haired boy’s lips. He smiled into it and let you go all too willingly as you leaned back and tried to focus on your book. 
The air around you began to feel heavy before the sound of distant thunder permeated your hearing.
“Damn, I guess Scottish weather isn’t very reliable, hm?” Remus said as he began packing up his things.
“It’s too bad.” Sirius murmured as he began to stand. “I was having a nice time out here with you two.”
You smiled back at him as he extended a hand to help you up.
“We’re still on for a study date tomorrow after dinner, right?” He asked you when you were at your full height.
“Yeah, sure. If you guys will have me.” You responded shyly, hating that you even hinted at any of your insecurities.
Sirius scoffed in response, but it was Remus who answered. “’Course we do, dove. We’re looking forward to it.”
You felt like you should be a little embarrassed at the way your heart fluttered hopefully at the sentiment, but you focused instead on Sirius’ smile and Remus’ soft eyes as the three of you made your way back to the castle. 
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You hadn’t seen the boys at all today. You unfortunately slept through your alarm, making you miss breakfast completely; generally, you’d sit with Sirius, Remus, and their friends at the Gryffindor table. The two of them were no shows for lunch, so you opted to sit with Shelby instead. And it was Friday, and on Friday’s you didn’t share any classes with them, meaning by the time you made it to dinner, you’d not seen or heard from them at all.
“Hey James.” You commented as you headed towards James, Lily, and Regulus sitting at the Slytherin table. “Have you seen Rem or Sirius at all today?” Of course, you knew that he had, he lived with them.
James seemed to grimace slightly, but the expression was fleeting before he was smiling at you again. 
He knew something you didn’t.
“The last I heard they were talking about your study date tonight.” He offered. You could tell he was putting on an extra show of enthusiasm for your benefit. You tried to be grateful for it, but it left a sour taste in your mouth, nonetheless.
“Okay, thank you.” You said as you turned to head to find a seat with Shelby. 
“Oh, Y/N.” Lily called after you. “You’re welcome to sit with us, if you’d like?”
You grinned gratefully at Lily as she smiled kindly at you, even though your heart clenched on account of the clearly pitying offer. Was it as obvious to everyone else as it was to you that you were so out of place with Remus and Sirius? Could they all see it too?
“That’s alright. I’ll see you guys tomorrow!” You called as you walked away.
The boys weren’t avoiding you, were they? Surely, they would have said something to you if there was a problem.
Although, perhaps they wouldn’t, seeing as you had clearly been spiraling for some time now and have yet to discuss it with them.
Would they even meet you in the library later? Certainly, they would have said if something came up…if you needed to reschedule.
No. 
You were obviously being silly. You hadn’t seen them all day, but they hadn’t seen you either – it was just a coincidence. You were fine.
Except you weren’t fine. Because it was about seven minutes after the time you had agreed to meet them before the boys joined you in the library. Remus offered you a hasty “sorry we’re late, dove” and a squeeze of your shoulder before taking a place at the table across from you, and Sirius pecked a quick kiss into your hair and sat beside you without saying a word.
It was painfully awkward. You’d asked them how their days were – Remus answered for the both of them before he asked you how yours was in turn.
After two more (failed) attempts on your part to make conversation, the rest of the study session was spent in silence. And not a comfortable silence.
It was the kind of silence that had you checking your surroundings every so often. The kind of silence that made you feel bugs crawling over your skin.
Every time you looked across you at Remus, he seemed to be shooting concerned glances over at Sirius. Every time you looked in your periphery at Sirius, you could see he was zoned out, eyes rimmed and red like he’d been crying or angrily rubbing at them. 
If something was wrong, they would have told you – right?
If they were regretting being with you, they wouldn’t have shown - right? 
If they were going to break up with you, they wouldn’t do it in the library of all places.
Right?
Your musings were interrupted when Sirius let out a sharp breath and closed his book unceremoniously. 
“Sorry guys, I’m not feeling the best. I think I’m going to pack it up.”
Remus immediately perked up, looking like he was ready to pack up too. “Okay, do you want company?”
Do you want me to come with you?
“No, that’s alright. Don’t let me impede your studying. I’ll catch up with you later, ‘kay?”
I’ll talk to you more in our dorm room when we’re alone, Remus.
“Sorry, sweets. I’ll make it up to you.” He said as he hugged you from behind and kissed your neck. 
“Okay, I hope you feel better.” You offered as you awkwardly pat his arms. He gave you a half-hearted smile before quickly exiting the library.
Once his figure disappeared from your vision, you turned back to see Remus still looking towards the way Sirius just left; he was still poised as if he was ready to pack up and go after him.
You suddenly felt guilty…because if you weren’t here, he would be going… He’d be going after his boyfriend and comforting him through…whatever he’s going through.
So now, here you were keeping Remus from where he really wanted to be, and Sirius from having the support that he needs…that he deserves.
My gods, you’ve made such a terrible mistake. How did the three of you not notice?
“Sorry about that, love.” Remus mentioned quietly, offering you a half smile. “He…he got a letter from his family today. He doesn’t really talk about it with people.”
He talked about it with you, though.
“It usually takes him a day or two to sort it out before he comes back to us.”
You mean back to you, James, and Peter…
“I’ll talk to him.”
When you leave me…to go to him.
You hated even feeling petulant about it. One of the things you loved about these boys was how much they loved each other. The trust, the affection, the care…you had just hoped that somehow, you’d get to enjoy those things too.
You offered him the best smile you could muster as you turned back towards your book. You could no longer make the words out as your vision blurred, tears threatening to spill out over the arithmancy calculations spread below you. 
You couldn’t keep doing this. Not to Remus, not to Sirius…and certainly not to yourself. You deserved better, all three of you did. 
You were being selfish, inserting yourself into their relationship like this; demanding things from them that they didn’t owe you.
“You know what,” you offered quietly, clearing your throat as your voice came out scratchy, grating along the lump lodged in your throat. “I think I’ve gotten enough studying done for tonight.”
You stood and started piling your things together. 
“Oh…are, are you sure?” Remus asked like he was willing to argue, but he too was standing and starting to pack his bag – eager to get to his dorm and check on Sirius. 
“Yeah, I did some work on it at dinner as well.”
Remus grimaced slightly at that.
“I’m sorry dove, really. The three of us clearly haven’t had a great day. I’ll talk to Sirius, and I promise we’ll all be back in sync in no time.”
You looked into his eyes and saw sincerity.
Back in sync.
Were we ever in sync to begin with?
“Can I walk you to your dorm?” He asked as he made to move around the table, but he paused at you quickly shaking your head.
“No, no I’m alright. I can find my way.” You tried to joke, but it fell flat.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. No, don’t worry about it just – uhm – just make sure he’s okay for me, yeah?” You asked as you walked backwards to the door. Remus must’ve picked up something in your tone, his eyebrows furrowed as he looked you up and down.
“I really am sorry, Y/N. We’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”
You quickly wiped away a stray tear that found its way out of your water line and gave him the biggest smile you could muster.
This was better, you thought, let everyone out of their misery.
“’Course. I’ll, uhm, I’ll see you around, Lupin.”
And you left. 
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your honor who gives a fuck. like for real
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The One With the Blouse (2/2)
Part 2/2
Wolfstar x reader      Sirius Black x reader      Remus Lupin x reader      Sirius Black x Remus Lupin      Sirius Black x reader x Remus Lupin 
Established couple (throuple)
Summary: Sirius apologises, Lily and Remus help
Warnings:
Minor angst
Hurt/comfort 
Fluff
Word count: 1.5k
You trudge up the steps of the girl’s dormitory. Tonight at least you know you’ll have an empty room. After a party, Marlene and Mary tend to fall asleep on the couches by the fire. Always the last to leave, and the first to insist on helping clean up. Lily will be with James, recently endowed with prefect duties and a single room, you have no doubt he’ll be taking advantage of the privacy. 
You sit in bed and hold yourself tight, calming your rushing heart, and trying desperately to cease the tears that just keep falling. Hours pass, and the loud sounds of youthful jubilance from the party below do too. 
You want to believe that Sirius didn’t mean any of it. He seemed almost just as upset as you were when you left the dorm. He has a habit of self-sabotage when things start going too well, Remus did warn you about that. But you aren’t a fan of wishful thinking. It’s far easier to let yourself wallow in the believe that you three just aren’t meant to be, and that they’ll do better without your imposition.
A soft knock on the door startles you, “Y/N, can I come in?”, Lily, that can’t be right. You respond in a daze, and she steps in wordlessly, looking far too sympathetic for your liking. 
“Remus said you might need some company”, she smiles.  
“Did they enjoy the party?”, you ask, entirely genuine. 
“They never came down”.
She moves to sit across from you on the red sheets, her fingers lost in her pockets as she pulls something out. A paper crane.
“Sirius made it for you”, she says, and your fragile heart summersaults. 
You extend your hand out, and Lily drops the paper to your open palm. The moment it touches your skin the bird begins to fly. It flutters around you in circles first, then flaps its wings in place between the two of you. It’s beautiful magic, Sirius’s touch is unmistakable. The paper rearranges itself back into its basic form, a flat sheet of parchment with writing on one side. 
It reads quite simply: 
I’m an idiot. I’m so, so sorry. Will do better. not your fault. Sirius,
It’s not exactly poetic, or even particularly romantic, but you appreciate the sincerity. The spreading, watery ink bleeding between letters - and dark raised tearstains affirms the earnestness of the apology. Lily seems hesitant before she speaks again, but her tone is reassuring, “You know, with him these things are never personal, he used to get like this with Remus when they first started out too”, and that shocks you. They seem like a complete unit now, reading each other’s minds and silent cues in a way you haven’t mastered yet. It seems almost unbelievable to imagine the two of them at each other’s throats. 
“I should go talk to them”, you sigh. Despite Sirius’s apology, you've resigned yourself to your fate. Re-playing the events of earlier tonight again and again in your mind, you can’t help but feel shameful. Maybe you overreacted, or you didn’t pay close enough attention to Sirius’s frustrations early enough. As if reading your mind:
“I understand why you’re upset; he told me what he said to you” Lily says, “If James said anything like that I don’t think I’d ever speak to him again”,
“You don’t think I should forgive him?” you ask, eyes looking back to the paper crane. The charmed parchment has re-folded itself perfectly and continues to fly.
Lily shrugs, “Sirius isn’t James, he doesn’t always mean what he says”, and somehow you find that incredibly comforting.
-
You walk to their dorm, paper crane in hand. Your stomach turns when you knock. There’s a rustle and a small shout from inside before the door creeks open, quicker than you’re prepared for. Remus steps out. His eyes are bright red and puffy, and looking at his hands on the wooden door you can tell he’s been picking at his fingers again. You hate to think that you might've been the cause of any of his pain. “Lily gave you the crane”, he says, half smiling now, and you think things might just be okay. 
He cracks the door open further, welcoming you inside with his hand at the small of your back. 
“Are you okay?”, you worry, glimpsing between his eyes and his scratched fingers, 
Remus nods. 
“All better now”, he says, half smile growing into nearly a grin, you believe him.
“Where’s Sirius?”, you ask.
Remus motions his head to the bathroom, and you cast him a bewildered look,
“I cast a silencing charm”, he explains, as if that really explains anything at all, “He needed to calm down”, he adds.
“So, he’s taking a bath?”, 
Remus shakes his head and waves his wand. The sound of sniffling and quiet crying finds it’s way through the dorm room, slightly muffled by something indistinguishable. 
“He’s got his head in the sink”, Remus says, and you really have nothing to say in response, “We had it filled with ice to keep the muggle beer right, I thought the cold would calm him down”, he elaborates, like an adoringly patient parent talking about a particularly affected toddler. Remus’s tenderness towards Sirius fills you with something light, and warm. You don’t miss the unspoken detail; Remus couldn’t bear to listen to your lover cry.
“He was in the wrong, and he really is sorry”, he says, and you don’t need to be convinced. You wonder how many times they’ve been through this, the arguments and reconciliation you’re only just learning to navigate. 
Remus opens the bathroom door for you, and low and behold Sirius’s head is in the sink. Three bottles of beer are parked haphazardly in the corner of the porcelain to make up for the space a human head takes up. He’s still wearing the same blouse. His shoulder are shaking, and his hands are so white gripping the sides of the sink that they’re almost luminescent.
Remus walks up behind him, rubbing circles up and down his back. He gives you a quick encouraging glance before he’s leaning down, speaking softly into Sirius’s ear, “Sweetheart, Y/N is here to talk to you, Lily gave her your crane”.
His head shoots up from the ice, pale and wild looking, like a corpse brought to life. Hair completely drenched, and ice water dribbling off the tip of his nose. He turns to you with wide eyes, looking entirely panicked. 
“I’m so, so sorry darling, I’m such bloody idiot”, he spills out, “I didn’t mean any of it, I’m not sure why I said it anyway, and then you were so upset, fuck sweetheart”, his words come out at a million miles a minute, you’re sure he’s taken your time apart to ruminate intently on his misdeeds. He takes a second to breathe, “-then Moony was upset with me too, Walburga sent me a howler yesterday and it got my mood all mixed up, I should have just talked to you, such a bloody idiot”, he pants out.
Remus hasn’t stopped circling his gentle hands up and down Sirius’s shoulders, providing a much-needed salve to the other boy’s anxiety. 
“I shouldn’t have left”, You say with regret “I should’ve stayed to talk to you”,
Sirius shakes his head, sprinkles of sink water flicking off the ends of his hair, “I upset you, you had every right to take a minute to yourself”, you nod in response, grateful he isn’t holding your flightiness against you. He seems much calmer now, the ice water, Remus’s touch, and your return serving as the perfect trifecta. It’s all slightly awkward, you’re both unsure how to proceed, stuck just for now in that fumbly post-argument stage. Remus spares you a slightly desperate glance, begging silently for you to say something. 
“Thank you for the crane, and the note”, you oblige.
“I meant what I wrote, I’ll do better”, he says it with conviction, and you appreciate the affirmation. “I'll do whatever you want, I’ll strip and flog myself all the way to Holyhead if-”, you interrupt him in haste, you’re not even sure he’s joking.
“-no no Sirius I forgive you, really”, his tense shoulders relax like mountains relieved of their own weight, and in the corner of your eye you think Remus’s do too. 
“You’re not just saying that to make me feel better?”, he questions,
“No, I mean it, honest”, and you lift your hand up beside your face, mimicking the action of taking some sort of oath. It puts a slight smile on Sirius’s face. “Come here”, you say, and he collapses into you, initiating the tightest hug of your life. He’s wet and cold, but you couldn’t care less, glad to have him back in your arms.
“Next time, please just tell me if I’m being too fussy, and I’ll give you a bit of space”, you say, muffled practically inside Sirius’s armpit. You feel him nod emphatically, “I promise”.
A warmth has returned to the dorm, and the red and gold accents of the room are suddenly more vibrant. The three of you stay up for a while, just holding one another, and talking softly into each other’s skin.
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The One With the Blouse (1/2)
Part 1/2
Wolfstar x reader      Sirius Black x reader      Remus Lupin x reader      Sirius Black x Remus Lupin      Sirius Black x reader x Remus Lupin 
Established couple (throuple)
Summary: Reader cares about how people see her, tensions boil over when the group get ready for a Gryffindor party
Warnings:
Angst (argument)
Hurt (and minimal comfort…)
Lots of insecurity, feeling disposable in a relationship
my first fic ever so please be kind…will potentially write a part 2 if people like this one (feedback is welcomed)
word count: 1.8k
Sirius looks so pretty in his white blouse. The silk brings out his dark hair perfectly, and the fabrics warm undertones complimented his pale skin. “Is all the fuss really necessary?” Sirius asked, bothering with the bow neckline of the blouse.
“You want to look good, don’t you?” You respond stiffly, tying, and re-tying the bow, unsatisfied with how it sits around his neck. 
“You forgot to Iron it.”, you say, Tying, untying, re-tying. Completely zeroed in.
“Does it really matter?” Sirius responds, completely exasperated.
Remus watches on from the armchair by his bed. It’s standard routine at this point. Before every common room party, Remus is ready by dinner - always a plain top and trousers, today a white T-shirt with blue jeans. “Very James Dean”, Sirius had said. He's been sitting there entirely patient on the same armchair for the past two hours, reading only half attentively as you and Sirius get ready.
“Sweetheart, the bow is fine”, Remus advises gently. He’s not in a rush, but he can tell that as much as you usually enjoy it, today the up-doing process is stressing you out. 
“No..no, not yet”, you respond absentmindedly, still fixated on Sirius’s blouse. 
Tying, untying, re-tying the bow. Sirius huffs out a humourless laugh and takes a quick step back turning completely away from you. Your hands are still held up, frozen where his neck would be. Your eyebrows furrow, and Remus looks up from his book.
“It’s the same every bloody time!”, Sirius suddenly cries out, you’re completely taken aback. 
“Sirius”, Remus warns.
“Godric, Forgive me! I didn’t iron my fucking blouse!”, he feigns, “You’re suffocated me” he finishes, coldly, glaring daggers straight through you. He’s still so beautiful, with his ebony hair hanging long and dark over his face, but the pit in your stomach is somehow darker. 
Remus is stood to his full height now, book abandoned. “You’re out of line”, his anger still somehow contained. And Sirius has the gall to let out a laugh. The party in the common room seems to have started. You can hear music and laughing below the bluestone floors. You try and divert your focus to that lively sound and take it off the painful bob in your throat. 
“I’m out of line? You’re kidding Moony”, Sirius laughs. his lack of sincerity is incredibly unnerving. “The bitch is vapid”, and your heart nearly stops, you can feel the sick climbing up your throat. Remus is seething, but you’re not sure he knows exactly what to say anyway. 
“What?”, is all you can muster hopelessly. 
Sirius takes a step towards you, and you all seem to move at once. You take one step back at the same time Remus steps between you and the shorter boy.
“Cut it out Sirius”, Remus warns, towering above the both of you with his height, and his domineering demeanour. But Sirius is undeterred.
“You. are. entirely. vapid”, he repeats, now looking over at you past Remus’s shoulder. “you’re just like my mother” he whispers to himself, like some sort of secret revelation, and you just want it all to end. “Completely superficial, shallow, and entirely vapid” he seethes, before turning back away from you again, taking in a slow deep breath. You think you can hear his heart beating nearly just as quick as yours.
Sirius’s accusation sits inside you. You can’t deny that you do like nice things. Your jewellery was all made custom, you shopped at the best boutiques on Diagon Alley, and you kept up appearances. 
Your parents have always been devastatingly high-achieving. You were no stranger to the odd charity gala, or pureblood ball. So, for you that meant endless expectations to live up to. Making sure clothes were ironed, hair was done right and shoes were all polished was just second nature. You pay attention to these things because you have to. Your label as a “washed-up-witch” in Witch Weekly’s coverage of the Macmillan ball in 72 serves as a reminder. Filtered through pre-teen public humiliation, these things stick. As deflated as you felt regarding Sirius’s outburst, you could feel an equal anger bubbling just below the surface. 
“You did not just compare me to your draconian fanatic of a mother”, is the first thing that leaves your lips. Your eyes are wide, and that anger is bubbling over. Yet, your voice is so level that you think you just might have the upper hand. You can tell that Sirius was expecting you to respond with equal fervour, he wanted a fight, and your composure has caught him off guard. You think for a second, maybe he didn’t even mean to hurt you. 
Remus would back you up if you needed him to, but he knows you really don’t need him to. You’d like to say your piece, and he gives your hand a gentle squeeze in support.
“Just because you can afford to reject tradition and expectation doesn’t mean we all have that luxury” you seethe.
Sirius has always had the reputation of a Black Sheep, but it made him shine nevertheless. Every act of rebellion on his part was praised and admired by your peers. But as a woman in the 70s, and the only child in a pureblood family - you were often subject to incomparable scrutiny.
“Maybe I’m too much sometimes” your voice breaks, and the tears have started to flow of their own accord now. Rushing like silent broken faucets, or shower heads. Sirius’s eyes flash with regret. You look up at the ceiling to blink them back, and Remus gives your hand another squeeze, silently shaking his head and biting his tongue. He’s glaring at Sirius with a healthy mixture of disappointment, and something akin to fury.
“I can’t help but care about how I look”, you whisper to no one in particular, “This is usually fun, getting dressed up together”, and Sirius looks completely in despair. That almost cocky, goading aura that surrounded him has been evaporated by your undeniable heartbreak. He’s fidgeting with the hem of the blouse now, and his fingers move hesitantly up to his neckline, where your hands sat only moments ago. He’s palming at the skin there, as it slowly turns pink from the pressure.
“I’m only fussy because I care, Sirius”, you say wavering, lip quivering as your crying takes both your eyes, and your voice. He can’t look you in the eye.
The subtext isn’t missed by either of the boys, you care because you love them. You enjoy dressing them up because you want them to look good and enjoy themselves. To protect them from any anxiety associated with landing on a worst dressed list, even informally among the Gryffindor party-goers three flood below.
You look down at your disco boots, perfect stockings and shift dress. It all feels so silly now, wearing the outfit you picked out three days in advance. You want to crawl out of your skin, and you really don’t feel like dancing. Sirius is still palming at his collarbones, staring with dazed and shallow eyes at his feet and the floor below them. You can’t see his face properly behind his hair, but you know him well enough to think he might be crying too. “I hope you’re proud of yourself Black” Remus chimes in, and you wince at the use of that last name. Remus’s hand rubs small circles around the back of your neck, you can't help but want his hot skin off you.
“I-I didn’t-”, Sirius starts, but you walk from the room with Remus quick at your heels before he can finish. 
The stairway down to the common room is empty, with the party building up below. It’s just you and Remus standing still on the stairs. “You know he didn’t mean that”, Remus says kindly, more for your sake than Sirius’s. He’s brushing the tears from your cheeks with his thumbs, and gently pushing the hair back from around your face. “He gets like this when he’s stressed, it’s not your fault”, he reassures, kissing the top of your head. 
“I stressed him, I should have just let him be”, you whisper, and Remus is silent. This is the first big fight you've had as a couple. You’re a slightly more recent addition to their pairing. Quips and little disagreements have never been an issue. Even when you were all just friends these things were always resolved in a matter of minutes - or a few hours at most, but this is the first time a spat has ended in tears. 
You wonder if this was a mistake. You hope to Godric that Remus isn’t thinking it too. “I think I’ll go to bed”, you say finally, and you can feel him frown. 
“But you were so excited for tonight” he says sadly, more of an acknowledgment, you know he doesn’t mean to change your mind. You’re all hardly in the mood for a party.
“Maybe you and Sirius can still have some fun”, and you hope it doesn’t come across as bitter, but Remus’s solemn expression suggests otherwise, he lets it go.
“I’ll talk to him”, Remus assures, as he molds his body around yours in a much-needed embrace. Having him so close stirs a vulnerability within you, and you’re sure that if you could see his face, you wouldn't have the courage to open your mouth. 
“Maybe we were wrong”, you whisper into his chest, scared. 
Remus is burning 20 degrees hotter.
“What makes you say that?”, he responds measured, but the unease in his voice is palpable. He’s pulled back to look at your face now, and you fidget under his gaze. You give him a look to say without words, ‘are you kidding?’.
“But you know we love you”, Remus says desperately, more of a question than a statement, gripping the sides of your head firmly, so as to say, ‘please believe me’. You just shake your head between his hands. “You heard him, didn’t you?”, you start, “Completely superficial, shallow, and entirely vapid” you quote, and Remus cringes. 
“I’ll talk to him”, he repeats.
“No, no its okay, I’m going to bed”, you say, almost completely defeated by the tidal wave of self-doubt flooding through you.
“Dove-”
“How about you talk to him, and you two can decide what we do from here”, Remus looks heartbroken at the implication.
“Surely you don’t think we don’t want to see you anymore?”, There seems to be something sparkly welling in his eyes too, Godric, what a horrible evening.
You’re so in your head you hardly register Remus’s question. When he goes to pull you close again you take a small step back, your fingers still interlinked. The moonlight shines in through the stained glass, and the sparkle of salt in Remus’s eyes begins to fall. You can hear Diana Ross’s smooth voice echoing off the stone from downstairs, tonight could have gone so differently. You can’t help but feel you’ve caused all this. Whatever animosity Sirius seems to have been harbouring towards you, you’re sure it lives inside Remus too, even if you can’t see it yet. You turn around before you have the chance to look back.
“I’m going to bed”.
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Curvy Build
Ears
Eyebrows
Eyes
Faces
Facial Hair
Feet
Fingernails
Fingers
Hair
Hands
Head
Hips
Jaws
Knees
Legs
Lips
Muscular Build
Neck
Noses
Shoulders
Slender Build
Sickly Build
Skin
Stocky Build
Stomach
Teeth
Toenails
Toes
Underweight Build
Character Traits
Affectionate
Ambitious
Bossy
Brave
Calm
Cautious
Charismatic
Clever
Conceited
Courageous
Creative
Critical
Curious
Determined
Diplomatic
Dishonest
Disorganized
Eccentric
Excitable
Friendly
Funny
Generous
Glamorous
Guarded
Honest
Impulsive
Independent
Intelligent
Just
Kind
Loyal
Manipulative
Mature
Modest
Mysterious
Naïve
Optimistic
Prejudiced
Persistent
Proper
Responsible
Sensitive
Sentimental
Serious
Shy
Reckless
Stingy
Stubborn
Talented
Thoughtful
Thrifty
Visionary
Wise
Witty
Worry Wart
Wounded
Talents & Skills
A Knack for Languages
A Knack for Making Money
A Way with Animals
Archery
Astral Projection
Astrological Divination
Baking
Basic First Aid
Blending In
Carpentry
Charm
ESP (Clairvoyance)
Empathy
Enhanced Hearing
Enhanced Sense of Smell
Enhanced Taste Buds
Farming
Fishing
Foraging
Gaining the Trust of Others
Gaming
Gardening
Good Listening Skills
Haggling
Herbalism
Hospitality
Hot-Wiring a Car
High Pain Tolerance
Knife Throwing
Knowledge of Explosives
Lip-Reading
Lying
Making People Laugh
Mechanically Inclined
Mentalism
Mimicking
Multitasking
Musicality
Organization
Parkour
Photographic Memory
Predicting the Weather
Promotion
Psychokinesis
Reading People
Regeneration
Repurposing
Sculpting
Self-Defense
Sewing
Sharpshooting
Sleight-of-Hand
Strategic Thinking
Strong Breath Control
Super Strength
Survival Skills
Swift-footedness
Talking With The Dead
Throwing One’s Voice
Whittling
Wilderness Navigation
Wrestling
Elemental Abilities
Miscellaneous
Voices
Voice Types
Speech Patterns
Speech Impediment
List of Character Flaws
List of Archetypes
Hairstyles
Describing Body Types & How They Move Around
Secrets To Give Your Character
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marvel: stony is not real
robert downey jr on facebook:
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*reading smut*: okay
*reading fluff*: i aM GOING TO PUT MY PHONE IN MY MOUTH AND I AM GOING TO S W A L L O W IT
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SUSPENDED GROWTH
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Paysages avec paysans, Georges Michel
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