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#remus lupin fanfic
moonstruckme · 1 day
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hi!!! i love all ur marauders works they’re seriously so cute and i love how you write them!! idk if you’ve done this one already and if you have just ignore this lol but could you do remus having a nightmare and reader comforting him? ik you’ve done the reverse but i wanna know what he’s like lmao. i need to see more confer remus i can’t get enough
Thank you lovely <3
Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 1k words
It’s already graying outside the window when you wake. Remus has been having some agitated nights lately, and the dim lighting of the bedroom lets you see that this has been another one. 
You’ve probably woken from the cold, all your sheets and blankets kicked mercilessly to the end of the bed. Remus’ face is twisted up tight, his hands twitching like they’re trying to grab for something, and he’s making soft, distressed little sounds that threaten to crack your heart clean in two. You hate to think how long he’s been like this without you waking. 
“Rem,” you start soft, reaching for his hand as you’ve learned to do. Touch his shoulder or any other part of him and he’s likely to wake jolting, your offending hand gripped cruelly by the wrist. Once, before you’d learned your lesson, he’d kicked himself fully out of bed from the start you gave him. You’d sat in the living room with a hot pack on his tailbone, murmuring apologies back and forth until the sun came up. 
You needle your fingers underneath his gently. “Remus, honey, you’re okay. You’re home.” His fingers twitch closer around yours, and you’re careful not to grab him back even though you want to, running the pads of your fingers down the length of his to loosen them. “You’re safe. You’re at home.” His eyes start to move faster behind his lids. “Rem.” 
That last whisper does it. He doesn’t startle, which is always a victory, but Remus still inhales sharply as he wakes. His muscles seize as though they mean to propel him somewhere, then relax shudderingly. 
You entwine your fingers with his, stay quiet. You know he knows you’re here but he won’t look at you just yet, hiding away the most frantic parts of himself before he’ll let himself turn towards you. You don’t love that he does it. You know better than to push him, though. It unnerves him worse when you try to jimmy your way into his thoughts while he’s still raw like this. 
“Sorry,” he says on an exhale. 
“Don’t be.” You start to stroke up his wrist, but Remus pulls his hand from yours, slipping out of bed and walking from the room. 
You tail him. This is part of your routine, too. You think he likes to give you the option of going back to sleep, though you can’t imagine he’d actually feel any better if you did. He’s fooling himself. (It’s okay; you’re a fool for him sometimes, too.) 
Remus isn’t surprised when you wrap your arms around his middle in the kitchen, resting your cheek against his back. He’s already got the kettle going. 
“How are you?” you ask, though you think you have some idea. He’s still trembling gently under your hands. 
“Alright.” He sets one hand over your two clasped around his front. “You should go back to sleep.” 
You almost smile at his predictability. Remus isn’t usually so stiff around you, but even he has admitted he reverts back to a younger, terser self when he’s feeling vulnerable. You could tell him that you’d have been waking up soon anyway, or that you wouldn’t be able to sleep if you knew you’d left him like this, but you go with the truth that you know you’d want to hear. 
“I want to be with you,” you say simply. 
Remus turns in your arms, resting his lips on top of your head. “Thanks, dove.” 
You hum like For what? and step around him as the kettle finishes boiling, grabbing his favorite mug from the cabinet above. Remus lets you take care of him this little bit, but he doesn’t go to sit down in the living room until you’re headed that way too. 
You curl up against him on the couch, your knees tipped over his thighs while his legs bridge the gap between the sofa and the coffee table. He blows the steam off his mug. 
“Do you remember what the dream was about?” 
“Bits and pieces.” Remus’ voice is still a bit raspy with sleep, and you know exactly what he’s thinking when his lips twitch: you’ve told him more than a few times how attractive you find it like this. “I don’t think it’s worth talking about.” 
“Okay,” you say. You’re both speaking softly, like the house itself is still slumbering as morning creeps up on the outside world. After Remus’ nightmare, you imagine he appreciates the peace anyway.
He sighs, looking at you almost sheepishly. “Sorry I’ve been waking you so much lately.” 
“Sorry you’ve been sleeping so horribly lately,” you counter. 
Remus smiles ruefully. “I think it’s all this stuff going on at work. Rude of it to fuck with me even when I’m sleeping, though.” 
You hum, tracing a scar near his elbow with your finger. “I didn’t realize you were so stressed. I’m sorry.” 
“I’ve hardly realized it myself,” he admits. 
You frown, and Remus looks back into his mug, shying from your scrutiny. “Do you think it might help if we relaxed a bit more here?” you ask him. “We could start reading that book together again.” 
His eyes are soft when they meet yours, the color of honey and just as sweet. “That sounds really nice,” he says. 
You smile. It feels good to have a plan. “Hug?” you ask him. 
Remus sets down his tea to make room for you, and you straddle his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck. His hands spread out on your back, tentative at first and then firmer as you snuggle up to him. 
“I’ll make cheese toasties and soup tonight,” you say softly. Remus sounds almost like he could purr as you start playing with the hair at his nape. He gives your hips a little tug, getting you closer. “And we can read or watch something or do a puzzle, whatever you feel like when you get home. We could talk about the work stuff, if you wanted to.” You say this last part hesitantly, but Remus hums his approval. 
“You’re so good to me, do you know that?” 
You grin. “I do my best.” 
He huffs a laugh, the sound gruff and heart-squeezing. You lapse into a thin silence, each listening to the other breathe but feeling the beginning of the new day pressing at your windows. 
“We have some time before we’d normally start to get ready,” you try. “Want to stay like this for a bit?” 
“Yeah,” Remus sighs, settling his arms around you more securely. “Yeah, good idea.”
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Hello! I freaking love your writing. I was wondering if you could write Remus x fem!reader fic where the reader is a little 'keep my feelings to myself' closed off-ish person. She is in a relationship with Rem, she loves him but is scared to tell him that, thinking he might not say it back and one day drunk, she comes to his dorm or smth like that and launches why she loves him and all the little things he does that make her happy and how she is scared of feeling so much about someone. And Remus is just melting in his seat cause he does feel the same and much more towards her. I know this might be too specific so if you want you can change some part for better writing flow.❤️
Tangled Hearts
a/n - loved this request so much, I've been having so much fun writing for remus again lately ♡
pairing - remus lupin x gn!reader
warnings - fluff, alcohol, mention of y/n
wordcount - 1.4k
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You sit quietly in the Gryffindor common room, the crackling fire providing a comforting backdrop to the chatter of your fellow students. Amidst the laughter and animated discussions, you find solace in the dim light, observing from a distance, your thoughts a tumultuous sea of emotions.
Remus, your boyfriend, occupies the armchair across from you, engrossed in a book. His sandy hair falls gently across his forehead, and his warm brown eyes flicker with curiosity as he turns each page. You watch him with a mixture of adoration and apprehension, your heart heavy with unspoken words.
It's been months since you and Remus officially started dating, navigating the labyrinth of emotions that comes with young love. Yet, despite the countless sweet moments you've shared, there's one sentiment that remains trapped within the confines of your chest: the three words you long to say but fear to speak.
You steal a glance at Remus, a pang of longing coursing through you as you imagine the weight of those words hanging in the air between you. But the fear of rejection looms large, a specter haunting your every thought. What if he doesn't feel the same? What if your vulnerability drives him away?
Lost in your thoughts, you barely notice the gentle hand that settles on your shoulder, pulling you back to reality. Sirius offers you a sympathetic smile, his eyes filled with understanding.
"You alright there?" he asks, his voice laced with concern. "You seem a bit distant tonight."
You muster a weak smile in response, offering a noncommittal nod. "Just tired, I suppose," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper.
Sirius studies you for a moment, his gaze piercing through the facade you've carefully constructed. He knows you better than most, sensing the turmoil that rages beneath the surface.
"Listen, if there's ever anything you need to talk about," Sirius begins, his tone earnest, "you know I'm here for you, right? You don't have to keep everything bottled up."
You nod gratefully, the weight of his words like a balm to your wounded soul. But even as you offer him a small smile of appreciation, you can't shake the lingering doubt that gnaws at the edges of your consciousness.
As the hours stretch into the night, you remain ensconced in the shadows, your heart heavy with the burden of unspoken words. And amidst the laughter and camaraderie that fills the Gryffindor common room as your friends prepare for the party tonight, the anticipation of the upcoming fun swirls around you, a mix of excitement and trepidation as the evening wears on. 
Your friends buzz with energy, exchanging jests and making plans for the night ahead. Yet, you can't shake the unease that lingers in the pit of your stomach, a silent reminder of the words left unsaid.
Later that night, you find yourself swept up in the revelry, the music and laughter washing over you like a tide. But even as you try to lose yourself in the moment, the weight of your unspoken feelings anchors you to the ground. Was Remus waiting for you to tell him? Would he pull away if you didn’t? Or would your admission drive him away because he doesn’t feel the same way?
Hours pass in a blur of dancing and laughter, time and drinks slipping away unnoticed until the room begins to blur around the edges. You've had one too many drinks, the alcohol coursing through your veins and dulling the edges of your worries.
In a haze of drunken determination, you stumble away from the crowd, your feet carrying you in the direction of Remus's dormitory. Each step feels like a battle against gravity, your mind swimming with thoughts and emotions too turbulent to contain.
Your boyfriend had complained about a migraine not long ago. You had instantly gotten up from your seat next to Lily to go lie down with him, but he had told you not to worry about it and have fun, glad to see you let a little loose for once and confident that his friends would keep an eye on you. Unbeknownst to him, Sirius was way past thinking clearly and the two of you had gone all out at the drinks table after he left.
Finally reaching Remus's door, you fumble with the handle, your fingers clumsy from the alcohol. With a sigh of relief, you push the door open, stumbling into the dimly lit room beyond.
"Y/n?" Remus's voice cuts through the fog in your mind, filled with concern as he rushes to your side. "Are you alright?"
You try to muster a response, but the words elude you, slipping through your fingers like grains of sand. Instead, you collapse onto his bed, your head spinning as Remus kneels beside you, his eyes clouded with worry.
"Merlin, you're drunk," he murmurs, his voice tinged with both amusement and concern. "What happened?"
You open your mouth to speak, but all that emerges is a garbled mess of words, your thoughts jumbled and incoherent. With a sigh, Remus reaches out, gently brushing a strand of hair from your face as he surveys you with a mixture of fondness and exasperation.
"I think it's time you got some rest," he says softly, his hand lingering on your cheek.
You nod, the warmth of his touch sending a shiver down your spine as you sink into the comfort of his presence. 
Remus helps you out of your shoes and covers you with a blanket, tucking you in with a tenderness that melts away the last of your worries. As he settles onto the bed beside you, you can't help but revel in his warmth, the steady rhythm of his breath a soothing melody in the darkness.
For a while, you lie in silence. But as the alcohol dulls your inhibitions, a sense of urgency gnaws at the edges of your consciousness, urging you to break free from the shackles of silence.
"Remus," you whisper, your voice barely above a breath as you turn to face him, your heart pounding in your chest. "I... I need to tell you something."
Remus meets your gaze, his eyes soft with concern as he reaches out, his hand finding yours in the darkness. "What is it, love?" he asks, his voice a gentle caress against your skin as he presses his lips to your forehead.
You take a deep breath, steeling yourself for the vulnerability that comes with laying your heart bare. "I... I love you, Remus," you confess, the words tumbling from your lips like a prayer into the night. "I love you more than I can put into words, and... and I'm sorry for not saying it sooner."
Remus's heart skips a beat at your words, the weight of them sinking deep into his soul. He watches you with an intensity that makes your breath catch in your throat, his eyes shimmering and a soft smile playing on his lips. Your breath catches for a moment, the feeling of regret quickly washing over you, but instead of rejection or hesitation, you feel the warmth of his hand tightening around yours, his touch a silent reassurance, urging you to keep talking.
"I love the way you always have a book tucked under your arm, the way your eyes light up when you talk about something you're passionate about," you confess, your voice trembling with emotion. "I love the way you look at me like I'm the only person in the room, the way you make me feel safe and loved."
You don’t give him the chance to respond, a sense of vulnerability creeping in, filling you with a fear you can't quite name. "I'm scared, Remus," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper as you meet his gaze, your eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "Scared of feeling so much about someone, scared of what might happen if I lose you."
Remus's heart aches at the raw honesty in your words, his own fears and insecurities laid bare before you. With a soft sigh, he pulls you into his arms, holding you close as he presses another tender kiss to your forehead.
"I'm scared too, love," he murmurs, his voice trembling with emotion. "But you have no idea how long I've waited to hear those words from you. I love you, too, more than anything in this world."
The tenderness in his voice sends a surge of warmth coursing through you, melting away the last of your doubts. You reach out, cupping his face in your hands as you press your lips to his, pouring all of your love and longing into the kiss.
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hanasnx · 18 hours
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eyes on fire.
NOTES: this is an indy-fied remus lupin so if you disagree with his characterization you are just disagreeing with the version i made up in my head. WARNINGS: none besides ooc remus and unestablished relationship.
"... and so you see—Mr. Lupin?" The professor's voice goes unheeded as REMUS LUPIN remains where he lay, his temple resting against his textbook. The professor grows antsy, and repeats firmly, "Mr. Lupin." You watch, batting eyes at how he lulls his head to face her as his chin stays glued to the book and he looks up at her through his fair eyelashes. The end of your quill strokes against your jaw in thought. "Your desk is not your pillow to cuddle up to at night, Mr. Lupin, up you go." she hurries him, and his nose sneers as he sucks in an audible breath through it.
Because of his positioning, his head bobs from his slurred words, explaining he didn't get much sleep last night, and when she questions him with an indignant expression, he takes it as an invitation. "Did'ja talk to y'a mum last night?" Typical immature high school humor that has his cohorts stifling their snickers, banging their fists against the wood. The sheer incredulity of your professor's reddening face is enough to spur them on, especially when Remus is promptly kicked out of class.
"You watch your tongue!" she gasps. "Do you enjoy your little visits with the Headmaster? It’s become quite a habit. Collect your things, Mr. Lupin, I'll see you tomorrow if you're lucky.”
It's as entertaining as a train wreck and you can't look away, faithfully gazing at him as he sighs loud enough to be obnoxious in the cavernous classroom. Standing, you see how tall he is, certainly taller than any of your peers, he towers over everyone as he throws the strap of his bag on his shoulder. His head hangs back as he kicks his chair in under the table as unceremoniously as possible. The ardent aloofness and unbothered nature of him draws you in, and you wonder if it's exasperated by his lack of sleep or the company he keeps. Everyone knows Potter and Black must be some kind of bad influences from how the jeer at him as he rounds the tables.
Unexpectedly, he gives you the eye as he passes by your desk. With the ambiance of the awkward silence filled by the professor's continued berating, you're taken aback at how he holds your eye contact with that attractive bored expression on his face. His fist reaches into your direction, rapping his knuckles against the wood where you sit, leisurely making his way to the back of the class and to the Headmaster's office. You gulp, unable to tear away from the back of him.
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luveline · 7 months
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𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞 —send me a shy!reader request for any character (with a plot) and I'll write a >1k drabble
sirius/james introducing shy!reader to remus. and shes just like quiet and in awe, but remus loves it.
luveline's 40k party ☆ tysm for requesting! remus x shy fem!reader
James is used to your personality after months of being your lecture neighbour, unperturbed by your quiet. "It's going to be fun," he promises, handing you a cold glass of cranberry vodka. "They're nice, okay? I won't let anyone irritate you." 
He's hosting a party and had the generosity to invite you round early. He's easing you in, so to speak. It took him two weeks of steady Hellos for you to work up the courage to say Hi back, another two weeks for small talk, a month before you felt comfortable speaking to him first. If you're that shy, a party is basically torture.
"It's not about irritating me," you say. 
"I know, I'm messing." James lists his head to the left. A second later, there's a knock at the door. "Aha. Wait here, shortcake, there's someone I want you to meet." 
"James," you say after him, wet from your glass leaking down to your sleeve, "what?" 
"I asked him to come early and say hello! He's quiet and handsome and you'll love him, just don't stare at his nose." 
What's wrong with his nose? you think, alarmed. 
James opens the door. Two new voices emerge, one scratchy and a little high, the other smoother. "I need to pee so bad," the scratchy one declares, followed by bounding footsteps up the stairs. 
"You alright?" the smoother asks.
You think there's patting, a hug, "I'm brilliant! You smell really nice, Remus, like a garden." 
"Lovely."
"In a good way! Come and meet my Y/N, you remember I told you about her nice gel pens?" 
James leads the smooth-voiced Remus into the living room. You hurriedly put down your drink and stand, wiping your wet hands in your shirt. You cringe at the darkening fabric but hide your grimace as they stop in front of you. 
"Remus, Y/N. Y/N, Remus," James introduces you both. 
Remus has a scar across his nose that seems cruelly cut. There's another beside it that starts in his upper lip, both of which end in his eyebrow. You know how self-conscious it feels to be looked at, so you manage to smile and offer your hand without too much of it. He's handsome with his scars, a nice nose with a ridge and brown eyes the colour of caramelised sugar.
"Hello," Remus says, shaking your hand. His is big enough to make yours feel small. 
"I invited her early because she's more fun than the rest of our lot," James says, throwing himself down on the sofa and kicking his legs out on the coffee table. 
Remus taps your elbow very gently as if to usher you to sit and sits down beside you, enough space to be casual but too little to stop the rampant nerves that blossom in your stomach. 
Remus asks about your life. What you're studying, where you're from, if James is being nice to you. While James is touchy in the rough older brother way, scrunching your shoulder and shaking you when you're not expecting it. Remus is touchy in a different way, you find, almost as if he doesn't know he's doing it. His shoe bumps your shoe, his hand falls down between his outer thigh and your own, his knuckles touching your jeans very lightly. He spins in his seat to talk to you. 
You don't notice other people arriving, nor the scratchy-voiced friends return. All you can do is look up at Remus with wide eyes. Your nerves meld to something warmer. 
"And what do you do?" you ask him. 
He smiles like you've wandered into a secret. "I'm trying to write a book." 
"He's being a bit much," Sirius says to James, the two now loitering in the doorway with matching beers. You and Remus chatter on, unaware of their running commentary.
"It's a very strong reaction. I knew she'd like him, but I didn't think she'd like him like that." James takes a sip of his drink. Remus asks you a quiet question. You duck your head, playing with your sleeves, and Remus, the bastard, ducks his head to follow your gaze, smiling at you all the while. 
James almost chokes, pointing his bottle toward you both as though Sirius isn't already looking. "He's eating it up. I forgot how flirty he is."
"She'll be nice to him, won't she?" Sirius asks, like it's a done deal. To be fair, Remus seems enthralled with you. 
"Definitely. She's very nice. Oh, look, that's sick, she's gonna pass out." James winces as Remus takes your arm into his hand. 
Remus wouldn't do anything cruel, but James wasn't joking when he told Remus that you were exceedingly, achingly shy. He's about to step in and rescue you, but you turn into Remus' touch and pull your leg up on the sofa to make yourself comfortable. Your voice is animated, if quieter than the average person's.
"Woah," James says, beaming.  
Remus flirts almost as a defence, like he wants to get the rejection over and done with so he can move on. You've yet to reject; you're looking up at him in moderate awe, your lips quirked into an easy smile. 
"Boo!" James calls, flicking his bottle cap at Remus, who brushes it away. "Took me three weeks to get a smile out of her," he mutters. "What a dick." 
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bruisedboys · 5 months
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remus who needs to make eye contact with reader when talking bc she has his full attention but she tries averting her gaze and he’s Tall so he does that thing where he bends his head down/chases her eyes so they maintain contact
ugh this!!!!!!!! he definitely does this, so hot of him honestly. I didn’t do justice to your idea at all but I gave it a shot!!!
rockstar!remus lupin x fem!reader
Remus gets off stage and he’s somehow a billion times hotter than he was two hours ago. It’s cruel. He’s the kind of handsome that begs to be looked at. You don’t blame his screaming fans. Not when you’d definitely be one of them if it weren’t for your lucky position of the bassists girlfriend.
“Hey,” Remus says, slinging his bass over his shoulder as he jogs towards you. His headset dangles around his neck, makeup smudged under his eyes and his hair in disarray, and yet he heads straight for you, brushing away a couple of techies who try to wave him down. He comes to a halt in front of you, still buzzing with onstage energy. “Can I hug you?”
“Yeah,” you nod, breathless and he’s only said a few words. He’s so handsome you can’t think straight. He hugs you hard, and you don’t even care that he’s sweating buckets. His arms cage you, strong and heavy, and he smells like sweat and musk, his cologne subtle but heady.
“You played amazing,” you tell him as his hands roam your back, one between your shoulder blades and another at the small of your back, pressing you in.
Remus pulls back, hot hands sliding to hold you by the shoulders. He squeezes you, calloused thumbs at your collar. He’s smiling so big you’re sure his cheeks hurt. “
“Cause I had my lucky charm,” he says, chucking you under the chin. “I’m so glad you came, pretty girl.”
Heat flares behind your cheeks. You can’t believe he’s real, can’t believe he’s this handsome and calling you pretty and telling you he’s glad you came to his show. As if you’d ever even think about being anywhere else tonight but here. You dip your head so you don’t have to look at his handsome face, opting instead for the dirty backstage floor.
“I’m glad I came too,” you mumble, toeing a rogue piece of confetti with the tip of your shoe.
Remus follows you down, bending to your height and tilting his head up so you’re forced to look him in the eyes. He’s gorgeous and he’s lovely and he’s so close you could kiss him.
“What did you say, sweetheart?” He asks, lips quirked, his mouth so close that his warm breath fans over your lips. “Can’t hear you when you get all shy like that.”
You groan. He’s awful. “I’m not shy,” you protest, though you are, especially with him. You stick your chin out in a show of fake confidence. “I said I’m glad I came too.”
Remus’ grins and thumbs your jaw, then cards a hand through his messy, sweaty hair. “Mm, I bet you are, sweetheart.”
You know he’s teasing. You don’t mind it as much as you should.
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ddejavvu · 4 months
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hi lovie! just had a thought of remus not being able to prepare the reader for him and going “deep breath, baby” cause this man has massive cock and that’s it
this post is 18+, minors dni.
"It's gonna hurt," Remus hums, low and sweet as he presses a kiss to your flushed cheek. It's hot with lust and exhilaration, and he noses at the other one while your stomach clenches in anticipation.
"I can take it," You vow, and you really mean it, even if Remus is convinced it'll take time. You've seen him before, and he's impressive to say the least, but you're aching and wet, and there's nothing you want more than to feel Remus's thick cock slip into your eager cunt.
"Relax," He warns you, keeping his face pressed to yours, breathing in tandem with you and brushing his lips against your nose from proximity alone, "Relax, dove, y'hear me?"
"I'm relaxed," You promise, forcing your muscles to un-tense themselves. You feel the head of his cock prod at your slit, although it doesn't offer much resistance until his full circumference breaches your hole. All at once it's too thick, too big, too much, and you tense up again, thighs and stomach and hands all clenched as you gasp in a breath of air.
"Breathe, sweetheart, breathe," Remus coaches, stopping in his tracks, "Deep breath, baby, you're alright. We'll go slow."
"No, I can take it," You repeat, less confident this time, and nearly breathless, "Remus, I- I can take it."
"I know y'can," He croons, pressing another sticky warm kiss to your face, tucked between your nose and your cheek, "Just be patient, sweet thing. You can have it all, I promise. Just wanna make sure I'm not gonna rip you t'pieces, love."
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sleyu · 8 months
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no thoughts just mean!bf remus mocking your cries n whimpers as he fucks into you n tells you how desperate you are for him
i genuinely needed to sit down and stare at my phone for a good two minutes to process this i am going crazy.
he would be so, so, so mean. the gag is that he’s the one who initiates everything and is, in fact, equally if not more desperate. but, mean ! remus loves ignoring this and instead, mocks you for your every cry and whine.
remus’ cock is so big, both in length and width. every time he’s inside you, it feels like the first time all over again because his size is just so overwhelming. remus sometimes feels bad for doing this, but his cock throbs at the sight of you struggling to take him and he often loses self-control and meanly laughs in your face when you cry out at the feeling of him suddenly pushing into you. every time you would tell him to slow down, he’d only go faster, laughing breathlessly at your whines and the tears on your cheeks.
‘telling me to stop but i’m sure you like this, don’t you, baby? cunt’s so fuckin’ wet.’
‘does it hurt, dove? thought you said you could take me?’
just imagine remus calling you his fussy little baby; every time you paw at his thighs, attempting to tell him that you need him while he’s studying, he’d just sigh in annoyance and bend you over his desk to fuck you stupid :( i don’t know if remus would slap you or not, but he would definitely tug your hair to force you to look up at him every time he takes you from behind !
‘is that what you needed, hm? all you fuckin’ think about is getting filled up—is this what my baby needed? such a fuckin’ brat, no patience at all.’
he genuinely has to control himself from busting inside you at the sight of your wobbly lips and furrowed eyebrows, paired with your teary eyes and the quiet mewls coming out from your mouth. you just look so fucked out and cute, he has to resist leaning down and peppering kisses all over your face.
i know this is a little unhinged but all i’ve been thinking about is remus fucking you in your childhood bedroom and calling you gross and disgusting for enjoying it when he ruins you as your parents are downstairs.
‘fuck—imagine what they’d say when they see their little girl slutting herself out like this. i’ve completely ruined you, haven’t i? no longer their innocent baby, are you, honey?’ BRRRRR i need psychiatric help.
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angelfic · 9 months
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— CALM AFTER THE STORM
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pairing: remus lupin x reader
summary: the 4 times you hate each other, and the one time you don’t. alternatively, remus lupin is a pain in your arse and yours alone.
warnings: enemies to lovers, swearing, kissing, mention of blood and wounds, some bad writing as always which is unedited
author’s note: just a little e2l fic for my own indulgence as its my fave trope and its criminal how i barely have any e2l fics… also haven’t written anything in ages soooo enjoy!
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when he just has to be controversial
The sun was beaming, colourful rays reflecting over your book through the stained-glass windows of the Gryffindor common room as you lounged on the sofa with your head in Lily’s lap. You were barely paying attention to the chatter of your friends around you, choosing to focus on your copy of ‘The Catcher in the Rye’ and Marlene’s soft guitar playing. The lazy afternoon is a welcome break from the increasingly stressful N.E.W.T lessons that have had you all so exhausted, you’re not sure if Peter is asleep or dead from his curled-up position on the rug.
You don’t even realise someone is saying your name until Marlene tickles the sole of your socked foot with her guitar pick, making you yelp and draw your legs in from where they were previously tucked in between Marlene and her guitar.
“What was that for?” you grumble, nudging her arm with your foot.
Marlene smirks, nodding over to James. “He told me to get your attention. Didn’t specify how.”
You roll your eyes and turn on your side to face the boy in question, his grin unfaltering as he multitasks polishing the handle of his broomstick and talking to you. “Not my fault you’re dead to the world when you’re reading,” he says, matter-of-fact, continuing when you raise your eyebrows in impatience. “I was just wondering how you could look so interested in that book. Remus said he’d do my homework for a month if I finished it the other day and I couldn’t get past five arse-numbingly dull pages.”
You scoff, adjusting your position again to face Remus as well. “And why was Remus betting you to read my book, exactly?”
“It was my copy,” Remus replies, scribbling away on his parchment, cross legged on his chair, to undoubtedly finish the Potions essay that Slughorn had set yesterday. You’re transfixed on the way his hand is moving across the page for a second, unable to fathom how someone can have such messy handwriting. You aren’t surprised in the slightest that the next words coming out of his mouth are ones you disagree with. “I wanted to see how long he lasted reading the slowest-paced book in the world.”
You abruptly sit up at this, shutting your book and forgetting plans of relaxation.
“Hey, watch it!” Lily exclaims, lifting the bottle of black polish she’s using to paint Sirius’ nails from its balanced position on her thigh to avoid you spilling it all over her white top. “If you’re about to argue, please refrain from throwing things until after I’ve done the second coat of nail polish.”
You pointedly ignore this and narrow your eyes at Remus who, infuriatingly, still hasn’t lifted his head from his essay. “I’m surprised you found it hard to read such a slow book. Thought that’d be perfect for you.”
“Look what you’ve started, Prongs,” Sirius sighs, examining his nails.
Seeing the corners of Remus’ lips pull up into a slight smile at your comment just spurs you on in defence of the book you were previously enjoying. “Besides, it’s about a real-life teenager with real-life struggles, not The Hobbit on his latest adventure.”
“Who’s Hobbit?” James mumbles, scratching his head in confusion as Marlene just shrugs, equally oblivious.
“It’s overrated,” Remus insists, finally setting down his quill to look at you. The amused expression still hasn’t left his face and you make a noise halfway between a scoff and a high-pitched squeal of indignance. “Even James agrees.”
“Oh, and James’ opinion on literature is the standard now?” You raise a brow, tutting when James starts to protest. “The only book James has finished in the last six years was Quidditch Through the Ages.”
The way James slowly slides the aforementioned book under one of the sofa cushions doesn’t go unnoticed by anyone. Sirius starts snickering, much to Lily’s annoyance as she tries to control his hand. “She got you there, in fairness, mate.”
Sirius’ chortling seems to stir Peter from his sleep and he opens one eye to peer at you. Seeming to catch sight of your irritated expression, he frowns. “Are these two arguing like an old married couple again?”
“Merlin help us if these two ever decide to get married,” Marlene utters under her breath, bent over her guitar and avoiding the weight of your glare.
“Yeah, he wishes,” you grumble, shuffling around on the sofa to get back into a comfortable position with your book. Remus’ smile has only widened in response and he seems to enjoy your discomfort as you overcompensate for showing your annoyance by wriggling about.
“I dream about it every night,” Remus replies, dryly and Peter giggles below you before turning over to sleep again.  
You overcompensate a little too much by moving around, because Lily huffs from beside you and starts scrambling around for a tissue. “What did I say about the second coat?”
“I didn’t throw anything this time!”
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2. when he won’t let you give someone a black eye
Defence Against the Dark Arts is your favourite N.E.W.T subject for a lot of reasons. You enjoy the lesson content, it’ll be useful in future years, and it’s the one lesson you share with every single one of your friends.
You’ve gotten used to James and Sirius messing around while Professor Marigold recites fact after fact about spells and creatures and wizards of dark nature. Its like soothing background noise to you and your classmates who all concentrate in silence most of the time.
Which is why your quill stops on your page and leaves a growing ink blot when you hear snickering and whispers from the other side of the classroom rather than from in front of you where the marauders sit in a line.
The scoffs of disgust coming from Snape and Mulciber are loud enough to attract the attention of the rest of the students and even the teacher, who eventually sets down her piece of chalk in the middle of talking about Wolfsbane potion with an impatient sigh.
“Is there some sort of pressing issue that can’t wait until after class to discuss, boys?” Professor Marigold asks with a tone of ire that would impress Professor McGonagall. “Even Black and Potter have decided to give it a rest today.”
She’s not wrong, you think, noting how they’ve been less disruptive than usual for this lesson, probably tired out from setting each other’s robes on fire in Charms the hour before.
“The pressing issue is werewolves,” Snape mutters quietly, as though he doesn’t want to make a big issue but can’t stop himself from speaking up. “We should be learning more about how to kill them and less about the price of potion ingredients.”
Lily gasps from beside you and Sirius and James tense up at his words. Remus doesn’t lift his head, but you absently notice how his grip tightens around his quill when Peter nervously turns to him. Peter isn’t one for conflict and he’s always been nervous around this particular group of Slytherins, so you’re not surprised he’s anxious.
“Werewolves are still people, you can’t just go around killing them!” you find your mouth moving on its own, before your brain can catch up. When Snape turns to direct his scowl at you, its matched by your own as well as Lily’s disappointed frown. “They didn’t ask to be werewolves, they physically can’t help it! How would you feel if people wanted to kill you for not being able to control being such an arse.”
“Miss Y/L/N,” Professor Marigold warns, setting her stern eyes on you. You’re not one for disrupting lessons or getting into trouble, so when Remus turns around to look at you with a raised eyebrow, your cheeks start to warm and you stubbornly don’t look his way again.
Snape ignores her to continue glaring at you. “I don’t have the capacity to kill people in a feral rage now, do I?” His gaze flits from you to Lily and Marlene and then lingers on the boys. “Of course, you’re defending werewolves. It’s no surprise considering who you choose to associate yourself with.”
“Mr Snape.”
“You have no need to fly into a feral rage to kill people,” you reply, voice steadily rising in volume. Sirius and James turn their heads back and forth like they’re watching a tennis match and you know the only reason they haven’t piped up to agree with you is because they’re too entertained watching the way you’re about to jump out of your seat to pounce on Snape. “All you need to do is show someone your face for them to die of fright–”
“ENOUGH!” Professor Marigold’s booming voice cuts through the laughter of everyone on the Gryffindor side of the classroom and when you turn to look at her, you see even Remus’ shoulders are shaking with silent laughter. You’re not sure why this pleases you, but it doesn’t last long enough for you to figure it out before Marigold waves her wand in the direction of the door and sends it flying open. “Both of you will wait for me outside the classroom until the lesson has finished so I can discuss your appalling behaviour.”
You gape at her for a second, before relenting and grabbing your bag, not wanting to argue with her authority. Your friends have different ideas.
“That’s not fair!” Marlene exclaims, standing up in protest. “She didn’t even do anything wrong.”
“Yeah,” James agrees, also standing up. “Snape’s the one who was being an annoying pri–”
“Sit down, everyone,” Marigold cuts him off, pursing her lips. “Everyone except Mr Snape and Miss Y/L/N. Do not even think about speaking Mr Black, or I won’t hesitate to suspend your and Mr Potter’s Quidditch privileges until further notice.”
Sirius shuts his mouth after a nudge from James and you shoot your friends a grateful smile before making your way out of the classroom, followed closely by Snape.
The door shuts behind him and you don’t bother sparing him a glance before dumping your bag on the ground and leaning against a wall to focus your gaze on a suit of armour for the next five minutes. You’re about half a minute in when you notice that one of the hands are slightly wonky and the classroom door suddenly opens.
Remus, of all people, enters the hallway to join the two of you and quickly shuts the door.
“What are you doing here?” you ask, furrowing your brows and getting up from against the wall.
“Yeah, what are you doing here?” Snape sneers at him, and you give him a scathing look before turning to Remus for an answer.
Remus pointedly ignores him to stand next to you against the brick wall. “I just pointed out to Professor Marigold that you both have your wands and she may not have two students left out here by the end of the lesson.”
“I can defend myself,” you snort, folding your arms. You aren’t sure if you’re annoyed that Remus is insinuating otherwise, or if you’re touched that he doesn’t want you to be hexed into oblivion by Snape. “Especially from him.”
“Oh, I know,” Remus raises both hands in surrender as his tone becomes grave. “It’s not you I’m worried about, trouble.”
“Ha ha,” you deadpan, rolling your eyes at the nickname. He started it around a year ago when you got your first ever detention for helping Sirius and James Charm the Slytherin chairs to throw them off every time someone sat. Your friends had kept quiet about your involvement, but Peeves had spotted you, the nosy bastard. The nickname stemmed from the fact it was the first time you had ever gotten into trouble and it never failed to irritate you. “You better be careful I don’t hex you.”
“I wouldn’t dream of annoying you,” he says, but the serious tone of voice is ruined by the way his lips are twitching in an attempt not to laugh at you. “After what happened when I said I didn’t like that one Jane Austen book? Forget it.”
“Hey, you insulted one of my favourite characters,” you point out, resting a hand on your hip. “What did Emma ever do to you? You had that hex coming.”
“I had pink hair for a week,” Remus narrows his eyes at you, but you can tell he isn’t really angry. Although he refuses to admit it, you know for a fact he didn’t hate the pink hair considering how good he looked with it. An annoying indiscretion on your part. Remus looks behind you for a split second before leaning in a little to whisper. “I won’t get in the way if you want to turn Snape’s hair pink, though. Preferably a very bright shade of flaming, hot pink.”
At risk of your own cheeks flaming up from how close he is – really, what’s the need? – you shake your head let your hair fall into your face. Almost having forgotten Snape is also there, you start when he scoffs (for what you think is the millionth time this afternoon) and you sigh before facing him begrudgingly. “What now?”
“Couldn’t handle the content of today’s lesson?” he asks, tiling his head. You’re about to ask him what the hell he’s talking about before you realise, he isn’t actually talking to you, but to the boy behind you.
“Uh…” you trail off, not sure how to respond. All three of you currently standing in the corridor know that Remus is smart enough to tackle any type of content, especially something as memorable and interesting as werewolves.
Remus’ amused demeanour has been wiped away and you can’t determine his exact expression, but his voice is cold when he talks to you. “Just ignore him.”
“You and your group of friends can’t help themselves when it comes to defending strays and all sorts,” Snape continues, much to your confusion. “It’s not enough that you’re a group full of blood-traitors and mudbloods…”
Remus tenses up behind you and you find yourself frozen for a second.
The next thing you know, you’re lunging at the greasy-haired Slytherin with every intention of hurting his face with your fists, wand long forgotten. Your fingers barely brush his robes, however, when you feel yourself being hauled back by strong arms that wrap around your middle.
“Let go!” you snarl, enjoying the way Snape has backed away, eyes wide and worried. “Did you hear what he said? Remus, let me go.”
He doesn’t relent, still holding onto you when he leans down to speak in your ear. “You’ve already gotten into trouble. You’ll get into a whole lot more when everyone walks out to see Snape with a black eye and you with bruised knuckles.”
“Worth it,” you grit out, still pulling away from his grip and throwing daggers with your eyes at Snape. After a few more seconds of pointless struggling, you relax very slightly just to turn in his arms so you can direct your next words to him more pointedly. “Not only is he a slimy, blood-supremacist twat, but he also wants to kill a poor bunch of werewolves. We should be throwing him into the bloody Black Lake!”
“I know, I-” Remus is cut off when the door opens and students start flooding into the corridor to provide a barrier between you and Snape, indicating the end of the lesson. Remus finally lets you go when he realises you’re in direct view of Professor Marigold who stands behind her desk, waiting for you. “I had no idea you were such an advocate for werewolves.”
It’s the last thing you expected him to say and you immediately look up at him and frown. “Again, they’re people. They don’t deserve to be victims of prejudice just as no one does.” He doesn’t respond, staring at you with an unreadable expression and a hint of a smile. Your frown deepens in confusion. Was he… laughing at you? Especially after you had just gotten along. “I’m so glad you find me amusing,” you say, scowling and storming back into the classroom and away from Remus.
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3. when he's too good for flower crowns.
“Tell it again,” James insists, grin wide as ever plastered onto his face despite the withering look you send his way. “Getting a glimpse at even the possibility of Snivellus getting pummelled by Y/N would have made my entire year.”
“The galleons I’d give up to have been there,” Sirius releases a wistful sigh, closing his eyes as he lies down, facing the sun.
You hand him the daisy chain crown you just finished and he dutifully dons it. “I’ll alert the Ministry of Magic to order in a time-turner for an issue of utmost urgency,” you say sarcastically as you start on the next daisy chain. Sirius merely winks at you.
“I think you should’ve let her have at him, Remus,” Marlene states, unapologetic. You nod vehemently in agreement, a little too enthusiastically as you end up splitting a daisy down the middle.
Lily tuts, adjusting her own flower crown as it slips against her silky red hair. “I’m glad you didn’t. Godric knows what Professor Marigold would have done,” she shudders at the thought, ever the diligent student.
“Forget Marigold,” Peter chimes in. “Imagine what Professor McGonagall would have done.”
You don’t miss how he looks over his shoulder in case your head of house is taking a stroll along the grassy grounds.
“She would have combusted when you called him an ugly arse,” Remus pipes in, unhelpfully might you add, from where he sits slightly away from the group under a tree, reading.
The comment sends Marlene, Sirius and Peter into a fit of laughter – James is too busy staring at the way the sun is making Lily look ethereal and she’s too busy pretending not to notice while being secretly pleased. Doing a quick survey of your friends, you see everyone now has a flower crown except Remus. You make your way to the tree he’s resting against while the others chat, and sit yourself down with purpose.
Remus lowers his book very slightly to peer at you and your too-sweet smile. He raises a sceptical brow. “Should I be scared right now?”
You drop the fake smile and hold up your flower crown expectantly. “Everyone has one, but you.”
“How observant,” he says, setting his book down to look at you in mock astonishment. “Have the Aurors at the Ministry caught wind of you yet?”
“Don’t be a pain,” you groan, dropping it onto his open book. “I want everyone to wear one for the picture!”
Remus sighs, looking at the large camera over by your bag. You had saved up all summer to buy a magical camera to be able to take pictures of you and your friends in your final year at Hogwarts. The time you used your own muggle camera was a disaster of sparks and broken bits of plastic that took hours to mend. “I already agreed to your incessant picture-taking,” he reminds you, acting like it’s the most painful thing in the world. “The flower crown is not happening.”
“Fine, you miserable git,” you flick a handful of grass at him, sending him sputtering. “Now come and sit for the photo.”
You return to the group with Remus behind you and get everyone in position before hunting down someone to take the photo. Glancing around, you spot a close bunch of first-years and send Lily to use her Head Girl credentials (and warm and inviting personality, of course) to rope one of them into coming over.
“Okay, smile everyone,” you order, plopping down on the grass next to James. You elbow him in the ribs, not even having to look at him to know what he’s doing. “Stop looking at Lily and look at the camera.”
With a couple of mutterings and some nudging, the nervous first-year Hufflepuff girl shakily takes the picture and hurriedly hands you the camera in the middle of the picture sliding out of it. James and Sirius go back to playing with a golden Snitch while Peter watches, while Remus returns to his book.
Lily looks at the picture and coos over how cute everyone looks at the same time as Marlene complaining about her hair. You impatiently take the picture back to slide it into your photo album and something catches your eye.
Sirius is making a peace sign behind Remus’ head. His head that wears a flower crown.
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4. when he bleeds out on you.
You’re not sure what time it is – either very late at night, or very early in the morning. You do know, however, that you want to finish your Herbology essay so you can enjoy tomorrow (or today) and cheer your friends on in the Gryffindor vs Ravenclaw Quidditch game. You only have the conclusion left and you’re confident it’ll be done in the next ten minutes.
If you can find your damned quill, that is. You could have sworn you had it ten minutes ago, just before you snuck down to the kitchens to persuade the house-elves to give you the strongest cup of coffee they could make. You take a quick sip and grimace at the lukewarm temperature before setting it down and getting up to search. After turning every sofa cushion upside down, you go to crouch behind the sofa.
You hear the door to the common room being swung open and the hushed voices of the Marauders enter, but you don’t take too much notice as you squint for your quill. It isn’t unusual for the boys to be roaming around the castle at odd hours of the night, but a hiss of pain grabs your attention at the same time you spot the quill.
“Can you guys manage taking him up to the-” Sirius cuts himself off when your face pops up from behind the sofa. He freezes in his efforts to hold up Remus, who you notice is leaning on him and James and Merlin’s balls he’s covered in blood.
“What the fuck happened to him?” Your voice comes out weak as you walk over to the boys. Remus has deep, bleeding slashes over his chest and an assortment of little cuts on his face and hands. He seems barely able to keep his eyes open but when his gaze meets yours, he winces. He isn’t the only one hurt and you realise Sirius’ arm is damp with blood and trembling, the same going for James’ thigh. “What the fuck happened to all of you, oh my God…?”
“Peter, you were supposed to keep watch,” James hisses at the boy who looks like a deer in headlights. He looks a lot better than the others, with only a couple of small cuts scattered around his face and arms.
“She was behind the sofa!”
James’ leg buckles and you snap out of your state of shock to dart forward and keep him steady. “Right. Shit, okay,” you breathe out, holding off asking any questions to prevent anyone from bleeding out. “James, Sirius, set Remus down on the sofa and take off his shirt. Peter, help these two up the stairs and go find a first-aid kit or something.”
“We’ve got a couple in the dorm,” Sirius says, summoning one of them down with a quick Accio and handing it to you. He hesitates for a second, probably unsure if he should stay and explain things, before deciding to turn in the direction of the stairs with James as Peter rushes to help them up. “Look after him, please. We’ll be right back, Moony.”
“Take your time, I’ve got him,” you utter, already fiddling with the first-aid box and trying to open it with shaky hands. You’re no healer, but you know enough to panic when you see Remus has had his eyes closed for the last few seconds. “Remus, keep your eyes open!”
He groans, cracking one eye open to look at you. “I’m injured and bleeding out and you still manage to yell at me.”
“I wasn’t yelling,” you frown, unscrewing the bottle of dittany and scrambling for the cotton pads. You try to avoid Remus’ gaze because you feel extremely silly about being more panicked than him when he’s the one with claw marks down his chest. “Don’t move, or it’ll hurt.”
While dabbing the liquid onto the deep gashes in an attempt to close them up, you ponder on the fact that he probably knows it hurts from experience. You’re not completely clueless.
“What are you thinking?” Remus whispers in the stifling quiet of the common room, looking unsure.
You don’t cease in your movements, changing cotton pad after cotton pad. It takes you a minute to muster up the courage to meet Remus’ gaze again and this time he looks more nervous than you’ve ever seen him. “You’re a werewolf, aren’t you?”
Remus gives you an almost imperceptible nod, like he doesn’t want to admit to it. You take a deep breath.
“Who else knows?” you ask calmly, as if you’re asking him about the weather.
“The boys and Lily,” he admits, swallowing hard. “Oh, and Snape.”
“Snape?” you exclaim, halting your dabbing to gawp at Remus. “I’m not saying you had to tell me or anything, but Snape?”
 Remus winces and you don’t think it has anything to do with his injuries. “In my defence he found out on his own and hates me for it,” he rushes out. “And it’s not that I didn’t want to tell you… I-”
“It’s fine,” you cut him off, waving him off and wondering how good you’re hiding the fact you’re a little hurt. “You didn’t have to tell me.”
“No, I wanted to. I did,” Remus insists, looking earnest. There’s something in his voice that’s a little pained and desperate that has you meeting his eyes. “I just couldn’t have dealt with it if you started looking at me differently. The boys and Lily sometimes do, y’know? Like I’m made of glass or something. It’s refreshing whenever you scowl at me or call me an idiot or an arse or a stupid gi-”
“Okay,” you stop him, stifling a grin. “I get it!”
Remus’ eyes flash with relief for a second before you notice doubt start to creep in again. “You don’t need to hide it, by the way. I won’t hold it against you if… If you’re scared or disgusted, or-”
“What?” you cut him off again and scrunch your nose in confusion. “I’m not scared or disgusted. Why would you think that?”
“You’ve been a bit too calm,” he points out.
Rolling your eyes, you grab a bandage to start patching up the worst of the injuries before you move onto the minor cuts and bruises. “I didn’t want you to think I was freaking out, or looking at you differently,” you quote his own words to him with a pointed look, making him smile again. “I don’t, you know. Think of you any differently, I mean.”
His expression is unreadable as he just looks at you and you just look at him, bandage hovering over his chest before his fingers come up to brush the back of your hand. He lightly holds your hand, softly running his thumb over your knuckle as his voice drops to a whisper again. “Thank you.”
You offer him a gentle smile, holding his gaze for a second longer before focusing on bandaging him up again. His hand drops to the side and you oddly find yourself missing his warmth. The large bandage adheres to his skin and you run your fingers along the sides to stick them down, feeling him shudder under your touch.
You quickly busy yourself with looking for more supplies in the kit to hide the way your own breathing has increased slightly. “Hey, anyway, I almost walloped Snape right in the eye for you. If that wasn’t any indication of my standing on werewolves, I don’t know what is.”
“Ah, my knight in shining armour,” Remus chuckles before breaking into a wheeze as the muscles of his injured abdomen contract. “Fuck, don’t make me laugh.”
“Don’t laugh at me then!”
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5. when you’re definitely not jealous… you’re not!
Three cups of coffee. You’re on three cups of coffee. It’s also the same number of hours you’ve slept and by Godric can you feel it in every inch of your body as the muted chatter of the Great Hall buzzes around you. Your head is in your hands as you contemplate stealing some Polyjuice potion and bribing a first-year to take a dose with your hair in it so you can go to bed and they can pretend to watch the Quidditch match.
You knock back the last sip of coffee when you sense a presence sliding onto the bench in front of you. Groggily setting the cup down, you see that its Remus. It takes a second to remember why this is concerning.
“Morning, h- Wait, what the hell are you doing out of bed?” you hiss, leaning forward to avoid anyone listening in. You scan your eyes over his chest, two seconds away from ripping his shirt off to check his bandages. “How are you even standing?”
“Relax, Florence Nightingale,” Remus says, rolling his eyes at your dramatics. He does his own quick sweep of the table and sees that most people are out in the Quidditch stands already, so he proceeds to pull the neckline of his shirt down slightly to reveal an already fading scar. No bleeding in sight. “I went to Madame Pomfrey with the boys this morning and she hurried up the process like she usually does. I feel achier than a 90-year-old woman with a metal hip, but the brunt of it is gone and Pads and Prongs are good as new.”
“Okay,” you say slowly, narrowing your eyes slightly. “If you’re sure you can sit out in the stands…”
“I can once I’ve consumed every cup of tea on the premises,” he says, reaching for the teapot. An annoyingly smug smirk starts to appear on his face while he pours. “What, are you worried about me, trouble?”
You scowl instantly. “No, I just don’t want you collapsing on me in the Quidditch stands while I’m cheering the boys on.”
“Right.” He hides his grin behind his cup of tea.
“Hey,” you mumble, nodding to Patricia Holloway who looks like she’s making a beeline to your table. More specifically, towards Remus. “Bright and cheery Hufflepuff incoming.”
“Merlin, it’s too early for this,” Remus whispers, taking another sip of tea before his face breaks out into a charming smile directed at the girl who slides into the empty seat next to him. “Morning, Patricia.”
“You look good today, Remus,” Patricia rests her elbow on the table and tilts her head to look at him with simpering eyes. It’s no secret Remus is good-looking and you’ve heard a million girls talk about him before. You’ve never seen any of them approach him yourself, though. You can’t say you enjoy it. “Are you… okay, Y/N?”
You didn’t realise you were scowling until she addresses you and you rapidly smooth out your expression, clearing your throat. Remus looks amused, which makes it harder to keep the scowl off your face. “Fine! I’m fine, just a bit confused since Remus looks half asleep,” you attempt a laugh through gritted teeth and are spurred on when Remus is actively trying to fight a grin. “And his hair currently makes him look like he’s been dragged through the Forbidden Forest.”
He can’t stop himself snorting at that, but Patricia just looks confused as though unsure how to react. She settles on a nervous little laugh, turning back to him. “I can fix that for you, here,” she says, scooting closer and starts to run her hands through Remus’ hair. You poke your cheek with your tongue, marvelling at how bold she’s being and how Remus is just sat there, still looking amused as ever. “There, what do you think?”
“A hairbrush couldn’t have done a better job,” you deadpan, softening your expression slightly when Patricia begins to look a little disconcerted. “You keep doing that, I’m going to head off to the Quidditch field.”
You all but storm out of the Great Hall, exhaustion having left you completely. It’s replaced by a newfound whirl of irritation that pools in your stomach and creeps up your throat, making you feel a little sick. It must be the coffee, you think, and you’re trying to remember if the beverage has ever made you experience this when all of a sudden there’s a hand circling your wrist.
“Stop, Y/N,” Remus says, a little breathless. You didn’t realise he’d run out after you and you feel bad about his injuries before your gaze snags on his newly tousled hair. “Godric, you walk fast.”
“I didn’t ask you to catch up to me,” you snap, purposely scowling this time. The cheeky bastard still looks amused and your irritation is growing faster than ever. “Besides, the match doesn’t start for another fifteen minutes. Plenty of time for Patricia to give you a whole new hairdo. Maybe she can give you plaits or– Why are you laughing.”
“You’re jealous,” he exhales with a smile, sounding positively delighted. Any feelings of concern have disappeared and are being rapidly replaced with wanting to thwack him upside the head. “Oh my God, you really are jealous.”
“Jealous, my arse,” you scoff, turning your back to him with every intention of speed walking out of the castle. His long legs keep up with you easily and he rushes in front of you to stop you going anywhere. You glare at him. “Leave me alone, Lupin.”
“Not until you admit that you’re jealous.” Remus is positively giddy with glee and you feel a flush of heat crawling up your neck. You set your jaw stubbornly and he’s incredulous as he shakes his head. “Merlin, you really have to argue with me on everything don’t you? I don’t care about Patricia Holloway and I’m glad you’re jealous. Means you’re less likely to break my nose when I kiss you.”
You barely get the chance to make an incoherent noise when Remus grabs you by the waist and presses his lips against yours, kissing you like he isn’t prepared to let you go anytime soon. His mouth slides hot and wet against your own and you gasp into the kiss when he nips lightly at your lip, your hands coming up to slide into his hair, making it unruly all over again.
Remus is the first to break apart, too soon, and you physically restrain yourself from chasing after his lips. He pulls back slightly, breathing fast to look into your eyes, searching for the answer you’re unable to speak yet.
“You… uh, I-I’m…” you trail off, dazed and breathless and head swirling with every emotion under the sun.
Remus laughs, pulling you impossibly close and leaving a soft kiss on your jaw, which doesn’t help your current speech issues. “If I knew that was all it took to shut you up, I’d have kissed you years ago.”
“Wha-!” You slap his arm, snapping out of the haze. You hide your current uncertainty behind a glare. It hit you like a ton of bricks, but you realised about five seconds into the kiss that you wanted Remus Lupin in every way, shape and form. You’re more than a little terrified, so what better defence mechanism than anger? “Why did you actually kiss me, you prick?”
“You are the densest, most clueless,” Remus begins, pausing to kiss you lightly a couple times when you start to scowl. “Most stubborn and most beautiful little witch I’ve ever known. And if you haven’t figured out after almost seven years that I love you, then I’m afraid we might have to admit you to St Mungo’s, because really-”
“Stop,” you whisper, lifting a finger to press against his lips, effectively silencing him. “You love me? You actually, seriously love me?”
He rolls his eyes and nods, like it’s obvious or something. You huff. “Then why have you been such an annoying pain in my bloody arse, Remus Lupin?!”
“Because,” he says, the word coming out muffled and you hastily remove your finger. “It was a good way to keep your attention. Plus, I like when you’re angry. It’s cute.”
You scowl without thinking and his smile impossibly widens.
“See?”
“Shut up and kiss me again,” you say dryly, pulling him in by the collar to give him a short, searing kiss. “Oh, and I guess I love you too.”
“So, no broken noses in my future?” Remus asks hopefully, softly sliding his nose against yours.
“No promises.”
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© angelfic 2023.
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wzrd-wheezes · 7 months
Note
Remus fingering reader while kissing her and loves to watch her struggle to kiss back !!!!
AN - thank you for the request, my love. enjoy x
Remus’s jaw brushed against hers as they kissed, the veil of stubble scratching against her skin. Y/N’s head was tipped back against the pillow, Remus laying by her side, propped up on one elbow, his head angled down towards hers. The arm that wasn’t supporting his weight was skillfully placed so that two of his fingers were easily buried inside of her.
He pressed the pads of his fingers upwards, searching for that sensitive spot inside of her. A gasp tumbled from Y/N’s mouth, her jaw going slack for a moment and her lips stilled.
“That good that you can’t kiss me back, huh?” he whispered. Y/N’s eyes were screwed shut in pleasure but she could feel his lips smirking against hers.
Remus was completely infatuated by her reactions, the way her chest would rise and fall with each moan that he drew out of her. How her brow would furrow as she would try to kiss him back as his fingers pumped inside of her.
His thumb bumped against her clit, rubbing small circles onto the sensitive nub. Y/N moaned into his mouth, lips parting slightly, just enough for him to slip his tongue inside. She tried desperately to kiss him back but every time she would, his fingers would expertly move and she’d be back to square one. Lips parted, grazing against his, struggling to kiss back.
2K notes · View notes
weasleykisses · 6 months
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Never His (Remus Lupin x Reader)
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A/N: when James needs help asking out Lily, he enlists you to play his fake girlfriend to make her jealous. In the process, you end up making Remus Lupin green with envy.
18+ Version Here
Word count: 6.2k
You weren’t expecting James to throw himself into the chair across from you in the library, his face holding the most desperate of looks. He brushed his messy hair back from his forehead as he got situated in the seat. James looked like he had run all the way across the school to find you. You raised a brow, peering up from the textbook on the desk that you were trying to study. Remus turned to stare at his friend as well, taking a break from his own reading. 
“Y/N, I need your help. It’s super important.” That could mean a lot of things, you thought. He was known for being quite the drama queen after all. 
You replied smoothly, “I’m afraid I’ve got to hear the terms and conditions before I agree to anything.”
“Be my girlfriend,” James said bluntly. This took you by surprise. Your jaw fell slack, looking at him as if he had two heads. Was he insane or just incredibly stupid? What the hell happened to his obsession with Lily Evans? Since you met the boy in third year, he hadn’t shut up about the beautiful redheaded girl. She was certainly a catch too, with her looks and her brains. Who wouldn’t want to be with a girl like that?
You could feel Remus sit up straight as a board in the seat beside you, staring over at James with his eyes narrowed. The change was barely noticeable. James probably missed it; he was never very perceptive. You, other hand, noticed. Of course you did. You noticed everything about Remus. He was like a novel you had read a million times, comforting and familiar. Anything out of place, you took notice of. 
You could certainly feel the tension coming off of Remus is waves. He never liked when James and Sirius fucked around with people for the hell of it. It wasn’t that he was a stick in the mud or anything, it was just that he hated when those two disturbed his peace with you. Hated it. Couldn’t he spend a few hours away from them? Enough time to appreciate your company?
Cautiously, you asked, “James, have you gone mad?”
He shook his head, eagerly reaching across the table and clasping both your hands between his, shaking them with excitement. “No, I have not! I’ve actually come up with a brilliant plan, but it will only work if you agree to help me out,” he said a bit too quickly, and you furrowed your brows, still awfully confused by the entire thing. 
Remus was silent, just observing. He was angry, how could he not be? You were his girl. Well, not really. He had never asked you out, or implied he wanted you to be his girlfriend. But everyone knew that he liked you, maybe not you yourself, but everyone else. This included James. He should know better than to ask you out, especially right in front of him. It was cruel.
He wanted to argue with his best mate, James. Give him a shove in the shoulder and tell him to fuck right off. He refrained though. He wasn’t that bold, nor did he have the right to control what you did with your life. He wasn’t your boyfriend. He wouldn’t ever be your boyfriend. He just had to keep his mouth shut. 
“Mind explaining then, Prongs?” you asked, pulling your hands from his grasp to cross your arms over your chest and leaning back in the chair.
“Be my girlfriend, just for a couple weeks, maybe a month. I’ll do anything you want if you help me out.”
“Why would you want me to be your girlfriend for any amount of time?” you scolded him. 
“I want to make Lily jealous. The only way I can do that is showing her that I’ve moved on to other girls, but I don’t actually want to date anyone else,” he said, “You’re one of my best mates, and I don’t have to worry about you catching feelings for me like the other girls would.” He cracked a grin when you rolled your eyes at his cockiness. James wasn’t ugly, but he also didn’t have girls falling over themselves to be with him like Sirius did.
“Oh, thank Godric. I thought you actually wanted me to be your girlfriend.”  
“Of course not. You’re like a little sister to me,” he laughed.
“Anyway, what would I have to do?”
Be my fake girlfriend for a month and I’ll buy you anything you want. We only have to pretend when we’re in front of other people, especially the girls. It’s basically fool-proof.”
“More like foolish, you dumbass,” you sighed. It wasn’t the worst proposition, considering James and his family were rich as fuck. He really could buy you anything you desired.
Remus was pretending that he didn’t care, his eyes trailed back down to the novel in his hands. James was just up to no good again, nothing out of the ordinary. He was hoping you would decline James’ request, but he knew that wasn’t going to happen. You were great friends with James, and were usually willing to help him out in any way you could. He hated that he had to sit there and listen to you discuss plans to date like it was completely normal. 
“Please, Y/N, please. You're the nicest girl I know. You gotta help a friend out,” he begged.
Just shut the fuck up, James. Remus thought to himself. He would never say it aloud though. 
“Fine. I expect half of Honeydukes inventory as compensation, but I’ll do it,” you told him with a heavy sigh. He punched the air enthusiastically then hugged you so tightly around the middle that he lifted you from your chair and swung you around in his arms. He was quite strong from being a dedicated chaser, after all. You laughed nervously, pushing against his shoulders so he would set you back down. “Really, it’s no big deal. I’m doing this because I think you and Lily would be cute together, alright?” You told him.
“Yes, ma’am,” he replied swiftly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Sit next to me at dinner today. We’ll play it up then, make it public.”
“Okay.”
He turned around after giving you one last thumbs up, rushing out of the room to no doubt tell Sirius about his plan. They did everything together, so of course Pads would either figure it out himself or find out after James caved and explained himself. You took a seat again in the wooden library chair, sinking down with your hand pinching the bridge of your nose. 
“I don’t know why you entertain him,” Remus finally commented. He sounded bitter, but you figured it was just because your study session was interrupted. 
“No harm done. I get a bunch of candy, he gets one step closer to the girl of his dreams,” you reasoned, resting your cheek in the palm of your hand. 
If you were being honest, you wished that it was Remus asking you to be his girlfriend, but Remus didn’t care for you like that. You were just friends. Both of you enjoyed your quiet time together, whether you were reading or drinking a cup of tea. You liked to go to Hogsmeade together and drink butterbeer in a booth, talking about nothing and everything at the same time. It was something the other boys weren’t interested in. You could try hanging out with Lily, Dorcas, and Marlene, but they would always drift off to talking about boys, James in particular.
Remus just had a way of keeping your attention, entertaining your curious mind. You two had become so close over the years because of it.
You were the one that snuck into their dorm on nights after the full moon, healing potions in your pockets and bandages at the ready to clean up his injuries. You didn’t mind that he was a werewolf, in fact, you thought it was pretty interesting. It compelled you to work harder in your studies to be a healer, so one day you might be able to lessen his pain. Needless to say, you really liked Remus. He was handsome, tall, positively dreamy, and oh-so-sweet like honey and sugar. He was one of a kind, and you would be lying if you said his determination to stay just friends didn’t sting a little. 
But the world keeps turning whether or not the boy you fancy likes you back. You tipped your head down again to study the text in front of you. Studying was especially hard now that you couldn’t think of anything other than James asking you to be his girlfriend before you mustered the courage to ask Remus.
______
The next time you saw James was at dinner that evening. You sat beside him after he waved you over. Normally you would sit on the opposite side with Remus flush against you to make room for everyone else at the table. Today, Sirius sat beside Remus and you took Sirius’ seat right beside James. He slung his arm around your shoulders to get you closer to him. 
The brunette practically pulled you into his lap with how eager he was, and you yelped, garnering the attention of the other boys at the table. Remus scowled, turning his head down to glare into his soup. James didn’t have to be so dramatic. Lily would get the point without all the theatrics. 
In fact, Lily was sitting at the other end of the table with her eyes trained on you and James. She looked a little perturbed, and when James turned to glance down the table, she quickly turned her head away, pretending she wasn’t at all interested. Real smooth, Lily. 
You knew Lily liked James, at least a tiny bit. She talked about him far too often not to. You were in a few classes together, and James was a frequent topic of discussion. While Lily would never admit to her crush, she hinted at it here and there. It was a similar situation for you and Remus, who you vehemently denied having a crush on for a few years now. Lily was probably shocked to see you in the arms of someone else. 
You played it up for the crowd, people from the surrounding tables looking at the both of you and whispering amongst themselves. Y/N and James? How scandalous. 
Your hands were clasped together, fingers intertwined and sitting between you on the table for everyone to see, and it disgusted Remus. Sirius was practically gagging at the sight of two of his best friends being so openly affectionate, but at least his disgust was jokingly. Remus was genuinely disturbed. He wanted to leave the dining hall and head right to his dorm for the night, just to avoid the pangs of betrayal assaulting his heart.
He ducked his head to take a deep breath, trying to pretend like nothing was wrong. That James and the girl of his dreams openly acting like a couple wasn’t completely tearing him to shreds.
He figured Sirius caught on to how he was feeling because the black haired boy turned to him with a sympathetic, half smile, as if to say “what can you do?”. 
“I missed you today, babe,” your voice dripped out, oozing with fake attraction. A sickly bright smile crossed your lips as you looked at James. Even worse so, James leaned forward and gave you a kiss to your cheek, and it didn’t even phase you. Since when were you and James so close? Even with the two of you playing it up, Remus never expected you to be so casual about it. It was like flirting with James came to you so naturally.
The pair of you laughed together and faked lovey dovey smiles here and there. It seemed to work too, because after only about ten minutes of PDA, Lily was packing her belongings and marching right out of the Great Hall with Mary following closely behind, most likely to console her. James grinned even brighter at that and pumped his fist in the air. 
“I think it’s working,” he said happily, and you nodded. You still had to hold hands, to keep up the image for everyone who didn’t know it was fake, but at least you could chill out a bit without her around. You sipped on the baked potato soup in front of you. 
“Working a little too well, don’t you think? What if she gets so upset that she moves on from you completely?” Remus asked, rather grouchy as he did so. He felt so sick to his stomach, unable to take another bite of his dinner without his inside churning. 
He decided he was done with his dinner after looking up to his two friends all cuddled up with each other, deciding he had better things to do than endure this torture. He packed his bag and stood. You watched him stand, and quickly followed, gathering your belongings just as he did. 
“Rem, wait up. Where are you going?” It wasn’t like him to leave dinner so early. You figured something was wrong. Your worries were only confirmed when he let out a long, exhausted sigh. You knew him too well to let him sneak past unscathed. 
“I just need to take a walk. Not feeling the best,” he lied. Well, technically it was true. He felt like shit, just not in the way he wanted them to think. 
Behind your back, you missed the look Sirius and James shared, that sneaky smirk coming to rest across James’ face. You also missed the way Peter snickered a bit under the cover of his hand. His friends were absolutely awful for doing this to him, but they thought it was the only way to wring a confession out of him. Hit two birds with one stone, as they say. Get both Lily and Remus jealous at the same time, hopefully uniting two perfect couples in the process. 
“Well, I’m coming with you. We can go take a walk in the courtyard.” He didn’t protest as you hurried to catch up him and his long legs, your robes flying behind you as you rushed ahead. Just because you were “dating” James didn’t mean you were going to ignore Remus when you thought something was wrong.
And so, you followed your tall friend out of the dining hall into the hallway, making a b-line for the exit doors heading into the transfiguration courtyard. He felt a little better knowing you were with him and not cuddled up to Potter anymore. He was incredibly jealous, not that he would do anything about it. He didn’t even have the right to be jealous either. He had to remind himself time and time again, you weren’t his. You never were and most likely never would be. 
It wasn’t long before the pair of you found your ways to a covered bench in the courtyard, sitting side by side, staring at the fountain in the middle of the snow dusted grass, looking into the pool of frozen water complete with golden coins preserved in the bottom. It was a muggle tradition that some students brought from home to the castle. They’d throw a coin in and make a wish, hoping it to come true.
There had been a few times you tossed a galleon in there, begging Merlin himself to give you what you wished for most in the world. The boy sitting right beside you, in fact. You had been making those same wishes for years now, and each time you were let down. Remus never asked you to be his girlfriend, nor did he kiss you in the rain like you always fantasied about. He hadn’t noticed the hints you would give him about how you felt, either ignoring them or choosing to be oblivious to them.
You cried many tears over the years because of your feelings for the boy. How conflicted you felt about confessing to him. You worried you would miss your opportunity and he would move onto another girl, but you also feared for your friendship. You didn’t want to make things awkward and lose him completely.
You watched the snowflakes as they fell around fountain, wondering what happened to all those wishes. Every wish you made begging to finally be his.
“Aren’t you cold?” he asked, looking down at your skirt and knee high socks, a thin slit between them exposing your bare skin to the frigid, snowy air. 
You shook your head, snapping out of your daze. “I’ll survive,” you laughed, pressing your forehead to his shoulder. “What’s on your mind?”
“Really, Y/N, it’s nothing.”
“The only other time I’ve seen you storm out of the dining hall before having dessert was the day Sirius put a whoopie cushion under your seat. You can’t lie to me, sweetheart.” He felt his heart pang in his chest at the nickname you always used for him. He wanted to be your sweetheart, to love and kiss you whenever he wanted. To hug you to his chest and profess his love into your ear. He wanted to hold hands with you during lunch, and to have you sit in his lap in the common rooms, regardless of who was around to see. He wanted everything to do with you.  He wanted to just drown in your soft words and your gentle touches.
 But he knew, just because you want something doesn’t mean you’ll get it. It felt like he needed you, to breathe, to eat, to sleep, to function like a normal human being. Maybe it was his naive 18 year old brain telling him these things, but he swore that he loved you more than anyone could imagine. He loved you from the tip of your nose all the way down to your feet. Every inch was perfectly tailored just how he liked it.
“Whatever it is, you’re gonna be alright,” you assured, nudging his shoulder gently with your own. For a moment, he forgot about the entire James situation and just thought of you, how you made him feel, and he did feel alright. He always felt safe when you were around. Even when he was his most vulnerable after a full moon, he trusted you to care for him. 
James didn’t know you nearly as well as Remus did. He knew it was stupid to worry about you catching feelings for the brunette chaser with a wicked grin, but he couldn’t help it. Not when he had seen girls flock to his two attractive best friends for years. He knew it was stupid, and he knew he should live in the moment. 
In this moment, he had you to himself. He could pretend you were his, all he ever wanted. 
“I guess you’re right,” he mumbled, fiddling with the strap of his bag. “You always know how to make things better.”
“Me? What about you? You always know just the right things to say.”
He wanted to say just how much he loved you. He could feel the words stuck in the back of his throat, and he just wanted to cough them up. You took his breath away, literally.
It was quiet for a long time, just the two of you sitting there quietly, listening to the chilly breeze flying through. Your hand rested beside his on the bench, your fingers close enough that if you moved a couple centimeters you would be touching. What he wouldn’t give to hold your hand in his and press kisses to your knuckles.
He needed you, and he was just so scared. Seeing you with James made him upset enough, but the thought of losing you completely made him feel worse. Your time at Hogwarts was ending soon, and he worried so much, overthinking every little thing.
He wondered if you thought about the same things. If you worried about your life when you graduated. Where you would go and what kind of person you’d turn out to be. He knew you spent a lot of time working on healing spells, assisting in the infirmary when you could. You wanted to be a healer at St. Mungos, saving people.
Maybe you could save him, too, keep his head above water when things got difficult. The life of a werewolf is never easy, and he couldn’t imagine what it would be like without you by his side to ease the pain.
“When we are done with all this- Hogwarts, I mean…You’ll keep contact with me, right?” he asked, feeling that familiar sickness churn in his stomach, afraid of what you might say. He knew you would never say something cruel, but he found himself preparing for it each time. He was afraid he would never hear from you again once you found a good job at the hospital taking care of patients, running around each day busier than the next. 
He felt the self-deprecation sneaking back in. 
You nodded your head furiously. “Of course! I would never forget about you, Remus, you know that right?” When he didn’t respond, you reached up to take both his cheeks in your cold hands. You ran your thumbs along the scars across his face ever so delicately, he felt like you were running a feather against his skin. He sighed into your touch, leaning his head into your hand. “You’re my best friend. Nothing and no one could ever take me away from you.”
Bravely, he reached out so his strong, calloused palm rested on your thigh, his fingers pressing warmly against that gap between your socks and your uniform skirt. Shivers ran down your spine at the touch. He was so gentle with you, it made your heart melt into goo at the mere thought of his touch. You were sure he could hear your heart beginning to race with how hard it pumped in your chest, how excited he was making you. 
“What did I do to deserve you?” he murmured, just loud enough for you to hear him over the wind blowing against your ears. 
“If anything, I don’t deserve you.” You ducked your head as you felt heat rush into your cheeks. “You’re perfect, Remus. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”
After taking a deep breath, he started, stumbling a bit over his words, “Y/N- I have something to tell you.”
And you swore he was going to kiss you. As he stared down into your eyes, his eyes flickering down to your lips a few times. You waited for it, sitting there in anticipation, watching his every move. You felt his hand resting on your thigh, rubbing small circles against your bare skin. Goosebumps rose to the surface and you shivered more from the contact than the cold breeze whipping against your face. 
You were sure he was going to kiss you, if only the doors to the courtyard didn’t burst open with students barrelling through the doorways. Quickly, you pulled your hands down to your lap and he shoved his hand into his pocket. Your eyes trailed to the ground, and you mentally cursed yourself for being too slow, for not kissing him yourself when you thought the time was right. 
Maybe he didn’t intend to kiss you. Maybe he was confused and was just showing you affection to reciprocate your own. Either way, you felt a spark with Remus that you hadn’t felt with anyone else. The kind you think you’ll only know once in a lifetime. 
Whether you were fake dating James or not, you weren’t going to let that feeling go.
______
You two were the star couple of the party that night, standing in the middle of a celebration for Gryffindor, James holding a cup of liquor in his hand, and you carrying something fruity. He had his arm hooked around your neck, pulling you in close so his lips just barely skimmed over your ear. You smiled, finding the feeling of his skin against your ear and the breaths he was exhaling to be quite ticklish. 
Lily was behind you, watching from the corner as she sipped on something nonalcoholic. She was never a drinker, and that just made it all the more infuriating for her to see you two dancing so intimately while she was stone-cold sober. 
“I reckon she’s getting close to her breaking point, doll. You’ll be getting a shitload of candy once she approaches me about this entire thing,” he whispered and you laughed, nodding your head in agreement. Dating James wasn’t actually that bad. The only downside was that Remus wasn’t spending nearly as much time with you as before. Probably because you had to spend most of the day following James around to keep up the illusion of this whirlwind love affair. 
It hurt, not seeing your best friend. You missed his company. He was your favorite person ever, with his pretty eyes and his adorable smile. The way his sandy hair would fall over his eyes was effortlessly beautiful, and his sweaters made him look so intelligent and mature, two qualities you loved in men. James was unfortunately neither of those things. Perhaps that’s what made “dating” him so simple. There were no surprise feelings between you two because the things you each wanted in a significant other were completely different. 
You wanted a Remus in your life. Someone so handsome it had you swoon. Someone kind and soft and gentle around the edges. Someone with a sweet tooth and a pretty smile that you could stare at for days without getting bored of it. You loved to talk to him about anything and everything, he just made it all so interesting. You wanted someone who shared your love of books, candy, and peace and quiet. Remus Lupin was all of that and more. 
He was just so lovely. You wished he was the one you were dancing with and not James. You wished that it was his lips pressed to your ear, whispering sweet nothings to you instead of these nonsensical plans of making a certain redhead jealous.
He sat on the couch, talking with Peter about something that happened in potions that morning. He looked stunning with his face lit up by the flames in the fireplace. If only you could walk over there and take a picture, keep it forever, look at it whenever you were feeling down.
He glanced up at you every now and again, just checking. He never looked for very long though, turning his head down with a grimace on his face each time. Remus couldn’t stand the sight of you so intimate with someone else, even if he knew it was all fake.
But how was he supposed to know if you’d accidentally grown feelings for his friend over the course a few weeks. You’d gotten much closer, hugging and kissing on the cheeks and forehead quite often. You laughed when James told jokes no matter how stupid they were. You attended his quidditch matches, which you hated doing before this entire mess.
Remus was afraid you changed your mind somehow. That you now thought James Potter was someone you could see yourself dating for real.
He couldn’t handle the thought, feeling himself beginning to crumble. He tried to maintain the conversation with Peter, only to feel himself zoning out, eyes trailing over to you helplessly every time.
You wrapped your arms around James’ neck, dancing slowly at the song that played over the record player. “Are you okay with me kissing you?” He asked, “I think it’ll be the nail in the coffin to finish all of this.”
You pulled back a little, your face draining of its color. Did you want to kiss James? Not particularly. Did you really care? It was hard to say. You wanted to be kissing someone else, a certain boy on the couch, but that was out of the question. You and James were just friends, two actors trying to woo the girl he so desperately wanted. It was like acting in a school play. It was just pretend. Harmless, really. James had kissed tons of other girls before you. It was normal for him. 
You always kind of imagined this sort of situation with Remus. It stung a little to know that you would sooner have the chance to kiss James Potter as opposed to your actual crush. 
You peered over your shoulder for a second to see Lily looking absolutely taken with James, and then turned back to the boy in front of you. It was a tough decision, but you ended up nodding your head. “It’s okay. Nothing too dramatic, yeah?”
And with that, your quidditch playing, Lily-obsessed friend kissed you right in the middle of the bustling party. You lips pressed together and you shut your eyes so you didn’t have to look at him. He ran his hand down your cheek and over your jaw for a moment as he leaned in closer, really trying to make it look authentic. 
Thankfully, it was short lived because soon enough, someone else had grabbed your arm firmly and tugged you out of James’ clutches. You turned around to be met with a sweater vest clad boy glaring down at the two of you with an unimaginable amount of frustration in his expression. His entire face from cheeks to the ears was red, and his lips were downturned into a frown. 
“Rem-” you started, but he interrupted you.
“That’s enough,” he muttered, and you could clearly hear the hurt in his voice. James tried to make it better, claiming that it was all for show, that he should calm down a bit, but Remus wasn’t having any of it. “I think your little fake relationship thing has run its course, don’t you think?”
“What’s wrong, Remus?” you questioned, peering up at him with those bright e/c eyes he had come to adore, and had missed over the past few weeks. “James, you stay here. Remus, let’s head to the dorms,” you suggested, motioning with your free hand to the stairwell leading up to the boys’ room. You certainly didn’t want to cause a scene.
James nodded, brows raised when he looked at Remus, a small smirk on his face. You didn’t know what he meant by that expression, but Remus sure did, and he was regretting the day he ever confessed to the boys that he fancied you. He wondered if James had an ulterior motive by fake dating you; if he did it to make Remus jealous, because if that were the case, he most definitely succeeded. 
As you led him to the staircase, you noticed over your shoulder that poor Lily was walking over to James, her head ducked down shyly as she approached. James, as confident as ever, flashed a sparkly white grin and started a conversation as if it were the most easy thing in the world. 
Remus followed you up the stairs and into his room, which was empty considering everyone was downstairs partying the night away. You shut the door behind him, finally letting go of his arm so you could cross yours over your chest. He was tall, and you had to look up to meet his eyes, but he was never intimidating to you. Not even when he was angry like today. He was too gentle to yell at you, much less hurt you in any way. 
“Mind telling me what’s got you so upset?” You tapped your toes on the floor, the soft clicking noise ringing out in the quiet room, music from outside muffled by the heavy door. 
You didn’t notice the water that was beginning to gather in the corners of his eyes.
He thought for a moment, before a whisper fell from his lips, and you almost didn’t catch it. 
“Why did you have to kiss him?” he asked weakly, his voice suddenly a lot softer now that you were alone. A lot sadder, too. “Why did you have to kiss him right there in front of me?” he repeated, squeezing his eyes shut and he pressed the palms of his hands to cover them. He felt heartbroken. Absolutely crushed that you had kissed his best friend, that he had to watch as you did so. It was so casual, like it didn’t even matter to you, but it mattered the world to Remus. 
He felt he might cry. Tears bubbled up in the corners of his eyes and he tried his hardest to keep them from dripping down his cheeks. No matter how hard he tried, he found himself crying anyway. 
You were crestfallen when you noticed the tears running down his cheeks, a gasp coming from your lips. He was crying, and it was because of you. You had done this to him, your best friend, the guy that you supposedly had a crush on for nearly 4 years straight now. You’d never made someone cry; it broke your heart. 
You rushed up to him, bringing your hands up to move his, letting them sink to his sides. Softly, with the pads of your thumbs, you wiped away the salty tears running down his cheeks. He didn’t even shy away from your touch, he just let you wipe them away silently, not daring to look you in the eyes. His eyes were stuck to the ceiling, trying to blink away what he was feeling. You being so nice to him only made things worse. He felt like an ass. You could do whatever you wanted. If you wanted to kiss James, so be it. He had no right to be upset when you weren’t his. 
“Remus, sweetheart, it’s gonna be okay. Just tell me what’s wrong.”
It was silent for a moment as he thought of what he wanted to say, as you stared up into his teary eyes with concern etched across your face. It was getting harder and harder to pretend everyday that he wasn’t bothered by your presence when you weren’t in his arms, when he couldn’t freely touch you and love you, and kiss you silly until you were laughing with glee. It took so much effort to suffocate all those feelings down. He didn’t think he could fuck things up anymore, so he said the only thing he had on his mind. 
“I love you.”
You were at a loss for words. He loved you? You felt your heart beat faster in your chest at his words, and you shook your head, clearly having misheard him. There was no way that Remus Lupin loved you. Not in the way you thought he meant. Surely, he would have said something by now. Surely you would have caught onto what he was feeling this entire time. “What?”
“Don’t make me say it again, Y/N. I’m already pathetic as it is,” he muttered, his eyes now drawn down to the red carpet below their feet. 
“Remus Lupin loves me,” you whispered mostly to yourself, “You love me?”
He chuckled bitterly, “As catastrophic as it is, yes, with all my heart, Y/N. Since the very moment I laid eyes on you.”
“Why didn’t you tell me? I-I would have never kissed James if I knew-”
“Why would I tell you and fuck everything up?”
“Fuck everything up? Remus, I just wasted my first kiss on James Fleamont Potter when I could have been kissing you!”
“What?” Now it was his turn to be confused. He looked up to you finally, his eyes still glassy from crying, lips just agape with surprise. 
You shook your head and laughed. “I’m in love with you! It’s always been you.” Your arms wrapped around his middle, hugging him to your chest and laughing into his sweater. He immediately took notice of your warmth radiating through his clothes, bringing him back to the real world. You loved him. You, the girl of his dreams, were hugging him and confessing your love to him. He wrapped his arms around your shoulders and brought you closer to his body, cradling you like a precious artifact in his possession. He never wanted to let you go again. 
He sighed, resting his chin on the top of your head. “You have no idea how hard it was keeping my cool around you all this time. When I saw you snuggled up to James, I wanted to kill him. He knew better than to make me jealous.”
“James knew how you felt about me?”
“Sirius, James, and Peter all knew.”
“And none of them thought to enlighten me? The betrayal.”
You inhaled the scent of his sweater, chocolate bars and mint coming in like waves. He was everything that you loved in the world all condensed into a single perfect person. He fit in your arms like a puzzle piece.
“Guess you’ve got to break up with James now,” he mumbled into her hair, stroking the back of your head, “Because I’m never letting you go ever again.”
“I think that can be arranged.”
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easterbonnet · 4 months
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Oh Deer!
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f!reader x boyfriend!remus lupin
{{emotions run high but remus is there to fix it all...}}
cw: period (but no mention of blood), undressing, remus' scars
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. . .
She burst into the rickety front door after hurriedly walking the front path, dodging the stray gnomes as she did, swinging her bag with momentum at her fast pace. She groaned at herself with a face of fury, eyebrows almost hitting the floor, whilst she threw her bag and it's contents across the wooden kitchen table with a thump. Y/n turned on her heels and kicked off her shoes, leaving them flying across the room and banging the inside of the door.
"Hmph", she sighed, bending over the table, her head in her hands as if to compose herself.
At this time, a brown-haired, towel-wearing, happy individual plodded down the creaky stairs at a louder volume than her arrival. His eyes locked onto her hunched over figure, fingers weaved in her hair tightly, his sly smile wiped into something of worry.
"Hello, are you alright?", he asked, waiting patiently for an answer as he headed over to her, one hand on the corner of his towel, the other swiping over his messy, damp locks.
She stood back up, still slightly hunched but less so, her eyes shut and hands on the wood in front of them. Taking a deep breath in she lied, "Yep, fine", in an almost sarcastic tone, with a a fake smile.
"Now, I know not to fall for those tricks... tell me, whats going on dear?", Remus stood next to her now, an arm snaked around her waist, pulling her closer, pressing the side of his head to the top of hers.
Before she could control it, she sobbed, light tears streaming down her plump skin, little squeaks drawing from her throat. Y/n slid her back down the cabinets behind them, falling to the floor, tucking her knees in, meeting them to her tear-ridden face.
"Oh darling, come here", Remus uttered through her hair, into her ear, kissing the top of her head gently.
The pair were sprawled across the dusty floor, neither really seeming to know exactly why.
After she had a moment to collect herself, she clambered back up, Remus followed doing the same, as soon as he did, she rushed to embrace him, feeling his tacky skin under hers.
"Sorry... just tired... sad, confused, dizzy", she trailed off, trying to figure out what she was even feeling.
"Ah, I know the feeling", he admitted, swaying her tenderly on the spot.
She looked up at him, "My- period", then quickly glanced away, reddening.
Noticing this, Remus caught her face in his hand, softly tilting it back to face him, "Hey, hey! Don't be embarrassed beautiful, I turn into a bit of a monster every month too", he smirked, kissing the end of her nose and giving her another brief hug before grabbing her hand and leading her up the stairs.
"C'mon", he whispered in his raspy voice, gesturing to the steps with his head.
They ended up in their bedroom.
Remus left her sitting on the edge of the bed, as she watched him dig through his chest of drawers. When he was content, he strolled over to her and placed a pile of his clothes beside her. His fingertips grazed the bottom of her top, caringly peeling it up from her body. Remus did the same with her trousers and socks, replacing them with garments of his own- in particular, a maroon knit jumper and a pair of thick grey socks. Not for a second did his eyes leave her face, nor did her make her feel as though it was anything other than softness, for there was nothing sexual hidden behind his acts... just the need to care for his love.
He swiftly changed into his own clothes as y/n watched in thought, visually tracing the plentiful scars that decorated his skin, thinking back to the comment he made earlier, 'I'm a bit of a monster every month too-', the thought saddened her.
Remus caught on, "You're thinking too much... stop.", he commanded lovingly, and picked y/n up, carrying her down to the lounge with her legs wrapped behind him and arms hooked around his neck. Her face rested lazily on his toned shoulder, strands of hair scattered over her cheeks.
Remus delicately placed her on the red woven rug beside the fire, he sat her in his cross legged lap, pulling a heavy blanket over his shoulders and wrapped his arms around her, leaving only a timid, deer like expression peeking up at him. His lips grazed the top of her head, planting small kisses as they did. He sweetly rocked side to side, as if putting a newborn to sleep, pinning the blanket shut with one hand, resting the other on her tummy underneath the fabric of her jumper, and mumbling quiet affirmations of love.
"Right here my love, right here", Remus reassured.
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moonstruckme · 7 hours
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request for Remus x reader, or poly!marauders x reader - A reader who seems more dominant in everyday life (managing group projects, generally independent, being a leader, etc.) maybe she's an older sibling or has parents that aren't all that responsible so she's had to take on that role.
But she settles into a more submissive energy with her partner(s) because she feels safe to do so, and lets them take charge. sorry if that's too specific! I hope it makes sense
no stress if this isn't your jam <3
Soft dom Rem you will always be famous <3 Thanks for requesting lovely!
modern au
Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 651 words
“No, yeah, I think that’s a good idea.” You flash your boyfriend a terse smile as you come in the door, phone held between your face and your shoulder. Remus steps forward to take your bag from you, and you mouth a thanks as you set down your keys. “That sounds like it would work fairly easily with my current plan, I wouldn’t mind incorporating that. No—of course—no worries, I appreciate your help.”
Remus starts to ease you out of your jacket, and it’s a struggle to keep from sighing at the casual care in his touch as you continue talking to the person on the other line. “Okay, are you free to meet on Thursday to finalize things?” You listen. Nod. “Perfect. I’ll get in contact with the others and figure out a time that works.” 
Remus hangs your jacket over a chair and goes to sit on the couch, motioning for you to follow. You make a gesture for one second and take your planner from your bag, grabbing a pen and taking the cap off with your teeth. “So you definitely can’t do after four? No, that’s cool, I’m just making sure.” You scribble down a couple of time ranges. “I’ll get back to you with what the others say. Okay, thanks! Talk soon.” 
You end the call with a sigh, leaving your planner faceup on the table so you’ll remember to call the others later. Remus waits until you’re looking at him before patting his thigh. 
Something unravels in you as you walk over to him obediently, settling yourself in his lap. 
“Hi,” you say, wrapping your arms loosely around his neck and laying your head on his shoulder. 
“Hi.” A bit of bemusement makes its way into Remus’ tone at your obvious relief. He rests a hand on the small of your back. “Long day, sweetheart?” 
You hum. “Not bad. I just have this headache that won’t go away, so that made it feel longer.” 
Remus tuts, his other hand coming up to cup the back of your head protectively. “Why’s that, hm?” 
“Dunno,” you exhale, snuggling into him. “It’s getting better already, though.” 
“Hm.” He sounds dissatisfied. A second later, he’s holding you securely to his back, tipping you both forward as he reaches for the coffee table. You hear ice clinking. “Drink this.” 
Reluctantly, you take your face from his shoulder to accept the water bottle. It’s his, nearly full and ice cold. Remus strokes your hair as you sip from it, eyes soft with approval. 
“That’s enough managing people for today,” he says, not unkindly. “You’ve already done most of the work, you can send a text and let them coordinate their own meeting time.” 
You frown, taking your lips from the water bottle. “I would, but they’ll never actually respond if it’s in a group chat. Nobody replies if I don’t message them individually.” 
“They’ll have to figure it out.” He shrugs insouciantly. 
You feel your eyebrows pinch, another argument rising to your tongue, but it evaporates when Remus wraps a long-fingered hand around your jaw. 
He tilts your chin up towards him. “They shouldn’t need you to take care of everything in order for it to get done,” he says sternly. “If they start calling you again tonight, I want you to send them to voicemail. Understand?” 
“Yes,” you reply automatically, and Remus releases your chin as you sigh, letting you ignore the water bottle for a minute so you can fold yourself back into him. 
“Good.” He turns his head into yours, kissing your temple. “You were never going to get rid of this headache if you let them keep pestering you all night, dove. They’re like flies.” You laugh a little, and Remus scratches at your scalp rewardingly. “You can text them in a little bit. Let’s just stay here for a minute, yeah? Try to get you relaxed.”
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daenysx · 4 days
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can we have one for the road for remus where he helps you relax after a long week? like the smut version of the one you did for sirius?? thank you!!
join the 1111 followers celebration
thank you for requesting, i hope you enjoy! ♡
remus lupin x fem!reader, smut
remus likes the way you seem to stop thinking when he's fucking you deep into the mattress.
your eyes roll back, shaky hands holding his neck gently as you open your legs and lead him deeper inside you. a slow teardrop falls on your cheek as remus moves, he keeps hitting your g-spot sweetly. he supports the backs of your thighs and rolls his hips again, until you cry out.
"please, please, remus." he likes how you sound when you're full of him.
you feel him kissing your cheek repeatedly, he sucks a bruise on your neck. remus sees the tears ready to fall on your cheeks, and he worries. your lips search for him, his scarred cheek and his bitten lips.
"you okay, lovely?" he stops kissing you for a minute.
you nod, tears don't stop but you feel perfect. you can't breathe, your brain is completely empty except the pleasure and fullness. remus gives you a smile when your hand cups his cheek, he kisses your hair and inhales the scent of your shampoo. his cock twitches inside you, the tension he feels is unbearable. he moves again, desperate for some relief. your nails scratch the back of his neck.
remus can feel his cock slide deeper easily. you are so wet for him, he moves his hips with pride. you have a smile on your pretty lips, your eyes are closed like you let yourself melt into him entirely. you never stop making noises, sweet whispers of begging reach his ears, they force him to continue until he makes a mess of himself.
"lovely girl." he whispers, presses a kiss on your ear. "you look so pretty, look at your little cunt. can you see baby? can you see how well you're taking me? such a good girl."
you see his cock sliding in and out. it makes you arch your back towards him, he supports your waist. "remus, please." you say, quietly.
"gonna come for me?" he asks. "is that what you're begging for?"
you nod, tears leaking slowly. "i just wanna stop thinking."
remus coos, his hand stroking your skin. "i'm gonna make you come until i become the only thing in that perfect mind of yours. i'm not gonna stop, did you hear that sweetness? gonna keep going until you tell me to stop."
he is a babbling mess on top of you as you finally come around him. you cry out, hands searching for him blindly. he holds you as he comes inside, filling you up until it leaks. it's so fucked up, he thinks. sheets are ruined and the mix of your liquids stains everywhere. funny thing is, he doesn't give a shit about that. he just loves the image of you relaxing under him.
remus kisses you, he forces himself to sit back on bed to pull you on his lap. you whine but he's quick to calm you down. he stays inside of you, keeping his cock deep to help you stay steady. you put your head on his shoulder when he places himself to lean back against the headboard. your breathing slowly turns back to normal as he rubs your back.
"okay, baby?" he asks gently.
you nod. "thank you, remus."
he kisses you as a response. "no need for that."
you force yourself to lift your head. your eyes look hazy, hair a lovely mess, and your cunt streched out around him. he tries to stay calm, feeling his softened cock twitch only a little when you clench around him unconciously.
"can we keep going?" you ask.
remus smiles. "of course we can. i just need a few more minutes, hmm?"
you nod, kissing his lips thank you again. he brings his fingers on your swollen clit. a gentle pinch makes your breathing go fast, he rubs the skin until he finally reaches your bud.
"oh-" you breath out, your head thrown back. "just like that."
remus gives you a fond smile as you moan under his fingers. he keeps you on his lap, rubs your clit until he has you clenching around his cock. he can feel himself getting hard after a few minutes, but he keeps himself from moving until he pulls another orgasm out of you.
he actually feels his mind blown when you come hard on top of him, cunt squeezing him deeply as you squirt. you lean onto his chest, your body is still shaking. remus kisses your hair to stay calm, you press your lips against his skin to even out your breathing.
"you're okay." he says. "you did so good for me."
he fucks you against the headboard after a while. you open your legs, desperate to forget your shitty week. he eats you out like he's been starved for years, fingers on your clit to make you come again. he turns you around for you to press your face into the soft pillows, fucks you deep once more until he can't feel his bones.
you are lying on top of his limp muscles when you finish. your brain feels like a mush, your body is tired but it's a good kind of exhaustion. it's nothing like what you've gone through for the past week. remus holds you close, pulling the covers on your bodies.
"settle down, lovely." he says. "everything is okay."
his voice is a huge comfort and he knows that. he waits for his senses to come back to normal, after that he cleans up both of you. he helps you wear clean clothes to bed and holds you in his lap like a baby when you sleep. he rewards himself with a cigarette with the window next to bed open, his one hand occupied with it while his other hand rubs your back.
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cosmal · 1 year
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reader falling asleep against remus?? maybe they aren’t dating yet but are oblivious idiots in love with each other and he freaks out !!
pillow
summary you fall asleep on remus at a party.
content remus lupin x fem!reader, she/her
"Mate, you've gotta be the worst pillow ever. Relax a bit," Sirius says to Remus who's gone stiff underneath you.
"I should wake her up, right? Like, it was an accident. She's gonna think I'm weird for not waking her up," Remus panics, trying to stay as still as possible.
"Hey, woah," Sirius puts his hands out to calm his friend like he's a spooked animal, "She wouldn't have fallen asleep on you if she didn't trust you, right?"
He takes a breath and looks down at you. He remembers how much he stupidly likes you and relaxes a bit. "Right," he says under his breath.
"Good," Sirius sighs.
He's not entirely sure how you've done it. It's loud at this party and the two seater isn't the most comfortable place to be. He then thinks about how if it were him in your position, he'd do the exact same thing. He trusts you enough to fall alseep on, despite the circumstances. He's sure his are different to yours, though.
He let's you get comfortable where you've got your cheek smooshed against his shoulder and hopes his sweater isn't too scratchy. Your lips are parted in the slightest and your nose keeps twitching. He remembers how tired you'd told him you were and hopes this moment of rest is enough to help until you have to go home.
He really wanted to talk to you tonight, maybe, if he'd found enough courage, he would've asked you on a date. But he's just as content with letting you use him to sleep comfortably. He envies it really, because he could also use a power nap.
He tries his best to keep you alseep, a hand around your shoulder to keep you shielded from rowdy partygoers but knows it's inevitable that you'll wake. The room starts to fill more as the sun falls behind the horizon and he feels you start to stir.
You lift yourself from his side and blink yourself awake. You look around the room confused, the cutest pout on your lips, before you catch Remus to your side. Then, you startle.
"Oh my god," you say, and hold your hands to your cheeks, "Remus, I'm so sorry!" You start to come into yourself and can't stop smiling. You duck your face into your shoulder and try to act unaffected, though you fail.
"It's okay," he says, and because while you were asleep, he'd swelled with courage, he wraps an arm back around your shoulders and encourages you back into his side. He's not forceful with it but you snuggle back into him like it's second nature and he melts. "I kind of liked it."
"Oh," you say under your breath, but because you're so close he can hear you. He treasures this position dearly, because most of the time you're too shy to speak as loudly as you should.
"You're cute when you sleep," he says, pushing it really, he expects to run out of confidence soon. "It's too loud in here, but I think you were snoring."
You groan and cover your face with your hands, bubbling with embarrassed giggles. "Stop it," you say, flustered and airy, "Was I really?"
"No, I'm kidding, sweetheart," he laughs, nudging your shoulder with his own, "It's okay, you were fine."
"Good," you say, looking at him through the parts in your fingers. "At least I didn't drool, I do that at home sometimes." You take your hands from your face but you still seemed flustered.
"Really?" he laughs.
"Yeah."
He doesn't stop himself from saying, "Well, I'll have to see that one day." He doesn't regret it when you start to roar with laughter.
"Are you inviting yourself back to my bed, Lupin?" you ask through pretty giggles.
"Is that okay?"
You tuck your head back into his side and try to hold back your laughter. He thinks you're trying to hide your flustered face. "Of course, it is."
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luveline · 5 months
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𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 | 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐮𝐬 𝐥𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐧
remus’ touch after a long night prompts a tired confession (and a slew of clumsy kisses). 
requested here. modern au. fem!reader, 3.6k.
˚‧꒰ა ✮ ໒꒱‧˚
“I'm going to bed,” Sirius mumbles, scratching at his eyes as he gets up. “Don't let her sleep in her makeup. She'll get an eye infection.” 
Your eyes are getting sore, but it's hardly Remus' responsibility to make sure you wash your face tonight, nor Sirius’ to remind you. “I'm a big girl.” 
Sirius sends you a smile, ignoring your chiding. “Goodnight, my loves,” he says, waving you both away as he heads out of the living room and up the stairs. 
“Notice how he didn't do his dishes?” Remus asks, shifting beside you. 
He's sitting as he tends to, slouched in a way that can't be good for his back in the long run but is clearly comfortable short term. His chin is on his chest, his legs kicked out under the coffee table, which is decorated by the casualties of the night. Sirius’ dinner plate, Remus’ mug, James’ rarely used handheld console. He'd been playing a cutesy farming sim before he said goodnight an hour ago. Sirius stayed to mess with James’ crops and eat a late supper. You're surprised it took him as long as it did to admit defeat. 
“What time is it?” you ask. 
You're laying on the sofa with your socked feet tucked behind Remus’ back, of which he's yet to complain. His elbow brushes your shin as he brings up his arm. “Nearly one in the morning, now,” he reads from his watch. “Let's go to bed too, yeah?” 
“I don't want to.” You turn your face into the pillow behind your neck.
“Me neither,” Remus says, dropping his hand on your knee.
You watch another twenty minutes of TV together failing to summon the energy to stand, but the want for a glass of water grows too big. Your head throbs as you get up, offering your hands to the pretzel that is your favourite housemate.
Remus turns off the TV and lights. You lock the front door. He carries the dirty dishes to the kitchen and you fill up two glasses of water to take with you. It's all so… regular. A routine you share nearly every night, only to climb into your two separate beds. 
He ushers you out of the kitchen and down the hallway with his hand behind your shoulders, his touch a phantom as you ascend the stairs.
You're silent beside the creak of the old wood, too tired to speak. Remus is similarly quiet, though he does whisper, “Watch,” when you nearly kick the box of Halloween decorations waiting to be taken up into the attic. 
You leave your water on the towel box in the alcove and dance around one another in the bathroom. Sirius’ toothbrush lays on the sink still wet, but otherwise there's no signs of him. 
You're feeling very, very tired. You hadn't realised how bad it was until you're putting your toothbrush in your mouth, leant up against the window sill, a slot of cold air seeping in from the dark outside. Your eyes shutter closed. The scrubbing sound of Remus brushing his teeth is almost lulling. 
He swills out his mouth and washes his brush. “Here,” he says gently. You open your eyes just enough to see him beckoning you forward. “Dove, your necklace.” 
“Oh. Thanks.” You turn your back to him. 
His fingers are damp and cool on your skin as he unclasps your necklace. He often takes it off for you. It's one of the things you'll miss when you guys aren't living together anymore, the slow meander to his bedroom, the wood of his door jam on your cheek as you lean against it and give him a hopeful smile. Sometimes he's awake, reading a novel on his side in bed or listening to music at his desk, other times he's sleeping. On those occasions you spend too long lingering, stolen seconds spent staring at the rise and fall of his shoulder. 
“Thank you,” you say as he puts your necklace in the jewellery dish. It comes out missing vowels, lips stuck together as though honeyed. 
You spit pathetically in the sink, rinse your brush, and consider sitting down. “I'm tired,” you whine, wiping your lips. 
“I know,” Remus says, giving you a fond nudge. “Just wash your face and get on with it.” 
“You first. I'm going to nap standing up for a bit.” 
He puts as much of his hair behind his ears as he can and turns on the tap. This is just as familiar as brushing your teeth together. It's not quite as bad as watching James Perfect Skin Potter wash his face with bar soap, but you have to admit that Remus’ eight-nine pence face soap hurts your heart. He washes it off, pats his face dry, and takes the small bottle of bio oil out of the medicine cabinet to pipette onto his pinky finger. “Wash your face,” he says, smoothing the oil into his scars one by one. 
You shake your head. “M'gonna do it in the morning.” 
“That's why your eye was swollen a few weeks ago. You know yourself you won't.” 
“I might,” you say, letting out a big breath as you rub your sore eyes even sorer, “I'm too tired.” 
“Can you sit up, at least?” 
“No.” Remus takes you by the shoulders and forces you to sit on the edge of the bath. “Aggressive?” 
“Don't fall in,” he says, cupping your cheek briefly as if to make sure you've heard. 
You are hearing him, seeing him, even feeling the immensity of his touch, but you're tired, and you know you can let yourself relax completely with him. You'd be the same with James or Sirius, though neither of them could have your head feeling so dizzyingly light from a single touch as Remus can. You probably wouldn't let them persuade you into this, either, tilting your head back to watch through blurry vision as Remus soaks a cotton round in your facial oil. 
“Close your eyes,” he says. 
“Was that a dracula impression?” 
“I command you.” 
You close your eyes. The queasy feeling of oil drags against your lids as Remus wipes them, loosening the stiff tubes of mascara that coat your lashes. It's not a short process because he's very, very gentle, holding your face delicately as though you're a flower in need of coddling, and him the sun. It's the only metaphor that would ever make sense for you and Remus; he's like the sun even if it goes against every statement he's ever made about himself, or anyone else has, for that matter. People think he's a moody, sarcastic boy, and he is, but he's also a vestibule of sweetness, softness, and warmth. The kind of heat you'd only ever feel kissing your skin under the summer sun. But more than that, he's the relief that follows when the clouds come out. 
And his hands are all over you. Your head gets heavier by the minute, eased into dozing by his touch and quiet tones. “We're almost done. I'm gonna have to carry you to bed at this rate.” 
“I'm going to miss this so much one day,” you say. It's easier to admit when you're not looking at him. 
Remus turns on the tap. Hot water runs, you can tell by the sound as strange as it seems, and he wrings the dirtied cotton round before replacing it with a new one. He wets it, bringing it just that touch too hot to your cheeks to wipe you down. “What are you going to miss, dove?” 
“Us. You. I'm going to miss you.” 
“Where are you going?” 
“Nowhere, but one day I will be. James will finally have had enough of us and I'll,” —you swallow around nothing as a rivulet of water runs down your cheek, a cooling tear from the cotton round— “have to move out and we'll never see each other anymore.” 
“Don't be silly, you're not going anywhere.” 
“It's not about the going,” you murmur, peeling your eyes open tentatively as his dabbing follows down your cheek to your neck. “I miss you sometimes and we still live together. I can't imagine how much I'll miss you…” 
Remus puts the cotton round aside. He takes your face into his hand, and suddenly his touch feels raw, nothing like it had moments ago. Because Remus would wash your makeup off for you any day of the week, but his looking at you like this, so unshielded and unabashed, is a rarity. 
“You won't have to miss me. Even if we did move away from each other, I wouldn't let it be that far.” 
“Friends move away all the time. We don't speak to half the people we knew at school.” 
“I only really knew you and the boys,” he says. It isn't true but it is at the same time. Together, you'd been a happy lot, but your current housemates are the ones you'd known. “And see? We're still together.” 
“But for how long?” you ask. 
Remus brings his second hand, holding your face entirely. He covers your cheeks, index fingers sliding slowly under your ears. He's exceedingly gentle, and his eyes are soft. He holds you like you're made of glass, like you could break under a hint of pressure. Slowly, he tilts his head to the side as though he might lean in for a kiss. Maybe he doesn't know he's doing it, but Remus is a very purposeful soul. He'd do much worse to wind you up if you wanted him to. 
You sober up. It's like he has caffeine in his palms. 
“You want to go where I'm going, is that it?” he asks quietly. 
“Yeah,” you say, barely say, voice shame-facedly weak. Is he asking what you think he is?
“Do you want to start now?” 
You breathe out as one of his hands shifts down your jaw. “Yeah, I… I want to start now.” 
“Okay, dove. Then close your eyes again.” 
You hold his gaze for a second that feels infinitely long and short at once, your heart racing. Clarity has returned, a thrust into wakefulness even if your fatigue ties knots around your ankles. You look at him in his late night glory, his scars shining a pink-white like the petals of a young peony flower, and you know it's happening now. 
You shut your eyes. 
He steps closer, though the bath you're perched on is low, and he has to bend a considerable amount to reach you. The weight of his hands on you doesn't change, not even as he grows near enough to sense the heat of his breath against your lips. It's his nose that makes first contact as it slides against yours, and then his forehead presses down into you, his lips noticeably absent. Each contiguity between you thrums. 
A pit opens in your chest, cleaved by his voice as he says, “I'm going to kiss you, okay? S'that what you want?” 
Your hands don't feel like your own. Under the sickening nervousness twining its way through your ribs, you're excited. You're smiling, your voice shaped by it. “Yeah. It's what I want,” you say. 
“Good. It's what I've wanted for a while–” while pressed into your lips, all shaken up by an emotion you've never heard him speak with. He kisses you and you're frozen, and he waits and waits and pulls away to push back in. You remember yourself then, responding to his wading with some pressure of your own. Sparked back to life. 
It's so strange. It doesn't feel real. Remus Lupin kisses you heated and hard for just long enough to feel it in your teeth before he pulls away. “Sorry,” he murmurs, his fingertip running down your cheek, following that same path as your earlier rivulet. To think he saw it, really saw it, locked it away to remember and trace into your skin now… maybe he's seen much more of you than you realised all along. 
“Will you do it again?” you say under your breath. 
Remus must hear the thread of insecurity running through your question; you're afraid he'll say no, but he strokes your cheek again with that unfathomable softness and says, “Yeah, dove, of course I will.” 
“Do you want to?” 
And that's less insecurity and more selfishness, wanting the confession. He hears that, too. 
“I want to kiss you more than I've ever wanted anything,” he says, eye to eye with you, your head tipped up and your heart in your throat, twitching and fizzling like a firecracker. “Yeah? And all that missing me you've been doing? All your worrying? You don't need to do that. You've never needed to do that–” 
“I just never thought you liked me like that.” You and Remus aren't new to one another. “You've been the same since the day we met.” 
Remus’ hands get a little more solid where he's holding you. “Dove. Dove, are you mad?” 
“Remus–” 
“Maybe I have been the same, but did you really not notice that I–” He squeezes your cheeks playfully, almost in disbelief. “If you want me, I'm here. I'm not going anywhere without you. You're not going anywhere without me.” 
“So you like me?” 
“Yes,” he says, his eyebrows pinched together at the starts. “Of course I do.” He laughs. “That's what I'm trying to tell you.” 
“Oh,” you say, lifting your head. 
Remus shuts his eyes a millisecond before you shut your own and kisses you again. The second round is softer, his smile to yours and struggling to find purchase. His breath huffs out in a minty laugh, shockwaves through your mouth. 
“Stop laughing,” he breathes, his hands falling to your neck, your shoulders.
“You first.” 
Your lips part under his, a split-second of contact. He yanks away before things can get too heavy, and you're glad he does, but for a moment you feel the loss like a wave of vertigo. 
“Sorry, I'm going too fast, and you're tired.” His touch is ticklish behind your shoulder. 
“It's okay. Maybe it is a bit fast, but I'm not tired anymore,” you confess. 
Remus hugs you, cementing every feeling for him you have as he wraps his arms around you from over your shoulders, a deft hand cupped behind your neck. “That's not true. I can feel your back shaking. Let's go to bed.” 
“After that?” 
“What, are you worried it won't have happened in the morning?” he asks genuinely. 
You go limp in his arms as he takes your weight against his chest. Not worried, but rather not sure you can be away from him so soon. You ask him in a whisper if you can come and sit with him, not to sleep with him, not to do anything else, and he whispers back, Anything you want. You both entertain the lie that you won't fall asleep in his bed. 
Remus tenses as he hears the scuffling sounds of movement downstairs. It takes a train of thought awakening for him to realise it's only James, rising early as usual to put on a load of washing and prepare bits for lunch before he goes off for training. He can see him in his mind's eye if he tries, his friend dressed in the red and white rugby uniform, green socks up over his calves and white cleats scrubbed pristine for another ruck in the mud. 
Remus’ relaxes, stretching out in bed until his hand bumps into something rigid. 
He flinches. 
You're laying on the mattress beside him, your head slipped off of the pillows and your arm tucked beneath you. It doesn't look comfortable, and if it were any other morning he'd pull it straight for you, but. 
I kissed you, he thinks to himself, as though talking to you. He turns away from you until his back clicks and alleviates the ache in his hips, though he has to settle eventually, back on his back, no way of ignoring you. He doesn't want to ignore you. The opposite —why are you so far away? Can he hold you? 
What are the rules here? 
Kissing… not dating… You're here in his bed, you'd asked to stay. 
He takes your hand and pulls at your arm. Still sleeping, you mumble and move onto your back, releasing the pressure on your shoulder as he pulls you toward his chest. Your face is impassive, lax in sleep. 
He should let you sleep. 
“Dove,” he says, stroking up the length of your arm. 
“Mm?” you hum. 
“I need to ask you something.” 
You twitch awake with a small cough. Your eyes are red with a lack of sleep as you open them, blinking, and he wishes stupidly that he could make it better. He makes a sympathetic sound for want of more to do. 
“Why have you woken me up?” you ask, blinking at him. You gather that there's nothing urgent happening and push your face into his shoulder, practically nuzzling him. “It's Saturday.” 
“I just need to ask you something.” 
“So ask me,” you encourage through your sleepiness. 
The washing machine whirs downstairs. It’s an old machine that you often joke is taking off into orbit during the final spin, loud as anything. He can barely hear your sluggish breathing underneath it, but he can't miss the catch in it after he asks, “Can I be your boyfriend?” 
It's not the catch he's expecting. You laugh and readjust, wrapping your arms around him from the side and kissing the side of his neck clumsily. “Y'u asked me last night,” you say in a borderless run-on, sounding about as dopily in love as he's ever heard you. 
He thinks about it. Yes, he did, after he'd kissed you many more times than he should've and curled up in bed with you, hands held loosely beneath the blankets. He remembers the question, the answer. The last kiss that followed, and you falling asleep beside him. 
“I need a coffee,” he says, encouraging your head back so he can kiss your temple. 
“No, you need to sleep more with me. And maybe kiss me again. If you want to.” 
Sleeping isn't half as interesting as kissing you. He slots his nose against yours and languishes in the feeling of your lips, wondering if he's having a false start. He could still be dreaming. It would make sense. 
The door clatters open with a curse. James stands in the doorway with a folded pile of Remus' washing from the radiators in his arms, an apology on his lips, “Sorry, mate, the door got away from– oh my god. Oh my god?” 
Remus isn't an overly shy guy but he can't deal with this. “For fuck's sake,” he mutters, dropping his face into your shoulder. Your arm wraps under his neck, fingers splayed across his cheek. 
“James–” you begin, resigned to your fate. 
“This is flat-cest. This is the cardinal sin.” 
“We don't live in a flat,” Remus says. 
“That makes it worse. You can't even blame close quarters.” Remus peeks up to watch James in the doorway, still clinging to Remus’ washing, pure shock curdling his features. He shakes his head. “I'm telling Sirius.” 
“Please don't!” you say.
You slump back into the pillows as James leaves anyways. 
Remus hugs your soft abdomen. “Don't worry,” he says.
“I guess it's a good thing you've already asked me out,” you say. 
“Why, what can they do?” Remus asks, wondering if he's allowed to put his face on your chest or if that's too forward. You rake a hand through his hair and encourage him forward, to his delight. 
Frantic words. You and Remus loved up in bed despite it. 
“I'm chucking them out!” 
“James, they've been seeing for weeks. Can I go back to sleep?” 
“What?!” 
You grumble into his hair. “That's not even true… Does everyone know, then? That I liked you?” 
Remus thinks of the shadow of you in the doorway, that sheepish smile you send his way before you ask him to unclasp your necklace before bed, or your face as he’d wiped the sooty stain of mascara from your cheek last night, half in love with him as you fell asleep in his palm. 
“I don't think so, lovely,” he comforts. “Don't worry about it. We'll clear it up at lunch time. James isn't even mad, he's just sulking thinking we didn't tell him.”
“How could you not tell me?” James asks on cue, rounding the door again, arms ever tighter around the bundle of Remus’ clothes. He assumes it's being kept hostage. “I thought we were best mates.” 
“James,” you say softly, all sympathy. 
Remus likes the feeling of your voice under his ear, and your slightly too-quick heartbeat. He could fall asleep here and now if it weren't for the company. 
“It's new,” you're saying, softness melded to a sweet pride. “Okay? I've barely told Remus how I feel, of course I was going to tell you. We were only talking about it last night. It really hasn't been weeks, Sirius is a stirrer.” 
Remus pulls the covers up over your heads and climbs on top of you in a rush, demanding that the both of you be left alone, to James’ great annoyance but your delight, your laughter loud in the shell of his ear. Your chest shakes with it beneath him. 
A great wad of fabric hits him in the legs. “Twats,” James says, seemingly stalking off. 
Your whisper sends shivers down his spine. “We're alone again. Do you have anything else to ask me while you're too tired to remember?” you tease. 
There's not a chance in the world that Remus would ever forget this. 
˚‧꒰ა ✮ ໒꒱‧˚
thanks for reading!! I really hope you enjoyed, it's been a little bit since I wrote for remus like this so I was actually a bit nervous and I hope it's okay :D &lt;3
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bruisedboys · 5 months
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shy!reader who’s always a little anxious and hesitant to show affection but one day initiates by asking remus if he wants a kiss and he’s all giddy but she meant a chocolate kiss and she gets red and blushy
eek thank you so much this is so so cute! sorry it took me so long angel. hope u enjoy 💗
remus lupin x fem!reader modern au
You tip your gift bag upside down over the coffee table, colourful foil-wrapped chocolates spilling out across the wooden surface. Your boss at work had a bunch of sweets left over from her kid’s birthday party and had opted to give them all out to her colleagues. Lucky you, you’re one of her favourites. You’re pretty sure your bag was stuffed full the most.
You dig through your goods, sorting them into piles of different flavours and types, and then your favourites and Remus’ favourites. Speaking of, your boyfriend sits across from you on the one-seater couch, immersed in his writing. The laptop screen paints him paler than usual but no less handsome. You know you’ve struck lucky with him and just looking at him from across the room makes your heart race. You like him so much it’s sick.
You pick through the pile of chocolates deemed Remus’ favourites. There’s lots of dark chocolate, a few nutty bars and multiple Hershey’s kisses.
Without thinking (well, you are thinking, but just about how much you like Remus and want to give him something he’ll love), you speak up into the silence.
“Remus? Do you want a kiss?”
To your credit, you are holding up a silver-wrapped Hershey’s kiss in your hand. To Remus’ credit, he doesn’t see it until his head has snapped up so fast you’re worried he’s cracked his neck, eyes wide and lips parted.
“What?” He asks.
You realise your mistake almost immediately. Heat flares behind your cheeks.
“A Hershey’s,” you correct yourself, embarrassed beyond measure. You hold it up for him to see. “A Hershey’s kiss.”
Remus’ eyebrows lower significantly and his wide eyes soften.
“Oh,” he says softly. “Yeah, okay.” He smiles at you and you miss the mischief, too flustered from your slip up. “Bring it over here for me?”
You’re happy to. You get out of your seat, grabbing an extra couple of Hershey’s for good measure. You stop in front of his knees and hold the chocolates out to him.
He smiles and takes them from you, calloused fingers brushing your soft palm. “Thank you, lovely girl,” he says, lifting his chin so he can look you in the eyes.
You smile back. “That’s okay,” you say, moving to return to your seat. Remus doesn’t let you. He leans over his laptop, the screen digging into his chest, and bracelets your wrist with his lean fingers.
“Hold on,” he says, and now you pick up on the mischief in his tone, now that he’s got you trapped. He pulls you in between his legs and you know you’re not getting away until he lets you. “I’d like a real kiss too, if that’s okay.”
Heat blooms all over your face, creeping up your neck like a rash. “Remus,” you say, in what’s supposed to be a complaining tone but instead makes you sound like you’re a lovesick fool. You are, but. He doesn’t need to know that.
“What?” He grins. “I’m serious, dove. Please?”
It’s his please that gets you. You would’ve given him one anyway, but when he’s practically begging you, you’d rather die than not kiss him.
“Fine,” you say, more breathless than you’d like to be.
You lean over him and kiss him quick and sweet, trying not to linger though you desperately want to. Remus has other ideas. His hand curls around your neck, warm and heavy, and holds you against his mouth while he kisses you properly. Your lips part from the pressure, Remus’ thumb pushing into the hair at the back of your neck.
You’re barely breathing by the time you pull away. Cheeks hot, heart hammering. Remus smiles at you, looking not nearly as disheveled as you feel. Unfair.
“Thanks,” he tells you. “If you’ve got any more to give me, let me know.”
You both know he doesn’t mean chocolates.
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