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remusremorse · 3 months

Text

sad beginnings,

summary - everyone sees you as this weird and crazy ravenclaw. everyone except remus and sirius.

pairing - ravenclaw!reader x wolfstar

word count - ~2.5k

You thought breakfast would be better than a bowl of porridge, but that’s what you get for waking up late.

You’d overslept on your alarm clock by 45 minutes and were now paying the consequences by eating disgusting gruel for breakfast. There wasn’t even any honey to drizzle on top, thanks to some older Ravenclaws hogging it for their pancakes.

Half the tables were empty, as people started to head off for their first lessons of the day.

You had potions in half an hour.

Potions was one of your favourite lessons of the day, not because you liked the subject - in fact you despised it - but because you got to secretly crush on two of the prettiest boys in school.

Remus Lupin and Sirius Black.

They were currently the only group of Gryffindors still at their table, making a rather loud ruckus as they stood up from the table to leave.

James was teasing Lily about something and Sirius and Remus couldn’t stop laughing over it. Lily pretended to be offended and fake punched Sirius for laughing at her, only to have Remus lean down only slightly and kiss Sirius’ clothed arm all better.

It didn’t help that the two boys you would of course have a heavy crush on would already be in a well established relationship.

I mean, they were the prettiest boys in the school and they were opposites to each other so their relationship made perfect sense.

You just wished you had gotten there with one of them first. But who? You admired them both the same.

Both of them had—

“Oi, Y/N!” A Ravenclaw in your year, named Philip, shouted from down the table, making your porridge slide off your spoon and splat against the table.

You looked towards where Philip and his band of quite mean friends sat.

“Daydreaming about boys you could never get, again?!” Philip laughed, causing others around him to as well.

You didn’t reply. You knew better than to reply. Just keep your head down and trouble should go away.

Your eyes drifted from Philip over to where the Gryffindors had nearly exited the Hall, only Sirius and Remus had stopped just shy of leaving.

They were stood talking to each other.

“Who is it this time Y/N? Hm?” Darcy, one of Philip’s friends teased.

“Remember when Y/N tried to date Isaac? As if she could ever date him.” Someone else joked.

You looked back down at your porridge, still listening to them but trying your best to block them out.

Looking at your breakfast made you think about Isaac. He was just as bland and boring. Until he wanted to have sex with you and you really didn’t want that, well then he became an absolute prick. Started spreading horrible rumours about you, showing his true colours.

Isaac started spreading stories about how you tried to come onto him, only to deny him. How you had been weird and crazy the entire night, when in fact it was the opposite.

Now everyone thinks you’re weird, a prude and a bitch.

One of the reasons you have no friends.

Isaac had managed to isolate you and Philip and his cronies had taken advantage of that.

“Think she was looking at Remus and Sirius.” Someone snickered, making you love uncomfortably.

“No way! Y/N has hots for the dogs,” They thought they were funny, “Is that true, Y/N? You want Remus and Sirius to be your little boyfriends?”

They all laughed, until they went silent.

“You alright, Phil? Can I call you Phil?”

Your head shot up to see Sirius leaning down over the bench next to Philip, resting his palms on the table and glaring him down. Remus stood right behind him.

Your heart rate increased at the sight of them magically appearing.

Did they hear? Did they know? Were they in on the sad and pathetic joke?

“It’s just Philip.” Philip gulped.

“Great, Phil.” Sirius smiled, but it definitely wasn’t genuine. “We heard your filthy mouth speak our names and, well, I for one don’t like pricks speaking about me or my boyfriend behind me back. So keep your goddamn mouth shut or I’ll hex you back to Year 1. Okay?”

“Uhhh…”

“I said, okay?” Sirius asked again.

“Yes, yes!” Philip stuttered.

“Good.” Sirius moved back to stand up.

It was lovely that Sirius had come over here to defend his boyfriend like that. You craved someone having the kindness, and definitely the courage, to stand up for you like that.

You watched as Sirius took Remus’ hand and you wondered what that felt like.

You could imagine Sirius’ hands being quite rough and Remus’ hands being calloused, but both still having a sense of softness to them. They’d both be very grounding and warm to hold on to.

Then they both walked your way.

You quickly started to eat your porridge again, keeping your head down. You don’t think either of them would make a scene with you, but maybe they’d caught on to your gazes and blushing and they’d had enough.

You thought you were subtle but maybe you’d been far more obvious than you intended. You cursed yourself, but only knew it was a matter of time before you made a fool of yourself.

Maybe they weren’t even walking towards you. Why would they? They didn’t know you, except for your name maybe.

But then you saw them stop in front of the bench on the other side of you.

You looked up to find them both smiling warmly down at you. You gulped, thinking the worst.

“You have potions next right, Y/N?” Remus asked kindly.

He did know your name…

And he knew your timetable…

“Yes?” You asked, cautiously.

“You want to walk over with us? We’re heading there now.” Remus asked.

You were a little gobsmacked that they were asking you to do something with them.

No one has asked you to do anything in a very long time, even something as simple as being asked to walk to class with them. So this was a huge deal to you.

“Really? I mean, sorry, I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

“Intrude?” Sirius laughed, “Never. C’mon.” He kindly smiled and you nervously got up from the table.

You picked up your robe and wand.

“Are you sure?” You asked to make sure a second time.

“Y/N, if you don’t hurry up then Sirius is probably going to pick you up and carry you there himself and then I’m going to have to deal with him moaning about crippling back ache later on… Oh my God… That want be implying anything about your weight… Um… Should I just stop?” Remus rambled and looked to Sirius for help.

“You really should.”

And you smiled.

Genuinely smiled, for what felt like the first time in a long time.

•-•-•-•-•-•

The hallways were starting to become busy.

People moving from morning time to lesson time, especially the first years with their overpacked bags and reckless running through the corridors to get to their lessons on time.

One darted past you, causing you to wobble. Luckily Remus was behind you and he put his hand on the lower part of your back to balance you carefully.

“Thank you.” You said, whilst trying really hard not to blush.

You failed to notice Remus blushing too as you turned back around. You definitely didn’t fail to notice the way Remus kept his hand on your lower back, helping you weave through the halls.

With two of the most popular guys in school, you didn’t realise how easy it was to actually manoeuvre through the corridors.

You’d spent too much time being infatuated with the time that Remus and Sirius were giving you, though, that you’d forgotten your potions book.

You stopped short, feeling the boys bump into the back of you abruptly.

“Bloody… Are you alright Y/N?” Sirius asked.

“I’ve forgotten my potions book. I’ll catch up with you, I just need to run to get it.” You turned to say to them, feeling slightly small underneath both their pretty eyes looking at you.

“Here, just take mine.” Sirius offered.

“No.” Remus swatted his hands, “Another “forgotten” book and you are going to get detention.”

“Oh screw that.” Sirius rolled his eyes.

“Y/N, take mine instead.” Remus insisted.

“What?” This time Sirius hit Remus’ hands away, “And mess with your perfect record? I don’t think so. Y/N…”

“Hey, listen.” You chuckled at the sight of them arguing… over you. It felt like the most surreal situation. “I’m just going to get my book, okay? Then none of us will be in trouble. I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

You smiled at them in thanks, before darting around and away from them.

After you’r turned the corner, Remus hit Sirius over the head with his textbook.

“Ow! What the…” Sirius rubbed the back of his head.

“Really? You were about to give yourself a detention?” Remus chuckled, knowing exactly that was what Sirius was about to do and why.

“For Y/N? Absolutely.” Sirius smirked.

Remus shook his head and kissed Sirius’ cheek in admiration, before taking his hand and leading him off to potions.

•-•-•-•-•-•

As you rooted through your belongings in your dorm, you hummed to yourself with content.

You felt ten times lighter than you ever had felt before and all because the two pretty boys you’ve been admiring for so long had looked right back at you. They’d even gone as far as walk with you to potions.

Sirius was willing to get a detention for you and Remus was willing to break his golden reputation. That was flattery of their highest form.

You finally found your book, before pivoting to leave your dorm.

Only to find Darcy standing there with a cat in her arms, looking malicious as ever.

“O-oh Darcy. Hello.” You said, losing your hum and your smile with one look at her.

“Cut the pleasantries. You made us look like fools at breakfast in front of Sirius and Remus, you foul witch.” Darcy spat at you.

“I’m sorry, I never meant for that to happen.”

You felt yourself caving in on yourself, becoming that shelter of a shy person that these horrible people made you.

“And you think an apology will make it all better?”

“I don’t know.” You lowered your head.

“Well it doesn’t.” She moved towards you and you gulped in fear of her. She’d pulled at your hair and enchanted curses on you before, so you were terrified of what she might do now. Especially when it was just you two here.

“I’m sorry.” You looked up at her, hating that she could probably see the fear in your eyes.

“Show us up like that again and you’ll leave with more than just a scratch.”

“A scratch?” You asked, but maybe you shouldn’t have.

Before you knew what was happening Darcy’s cat attacked your face, clawing at your cheek with one powerful hit. The cat screamed what sounded like a war cry and you screamed in pain.

Your head turned to the side, leaving the cat’s claws to drag slightly down your cheek before letting go. You didn’t reveal your face again until you heard the door slam shut.

It only took a minute for you to delicately touch your cheek and see the blood for the pain to come flying in. You cried as you sat on your bed, cupping your cheek from dripping blood everywhere with one hand and the other hand resting on your forehead as you came to terms with what just happened.

You’d just been attacked for trying to apologise for something you hadn’t been in control of.

Your tears ran down your cheek and stung as they ran into the cuts on your cheek.

Walking to the little mirror hanging up on the wall, you looked in to see yourself. There were three lines scraped down your once bare cheek, running from just under your eye to resting on your jawline.

You cried some more, completely getting lost in the self loathing, before rushing around the dorm to find some healing lotion and tissues.

It took you ten minutes to clean up the mess on your face, and another five for the bleeding to calm down. It was an angry red mess, but you had to get to potions before the class ended.

You breathed out through your mouth a shaky breath, dabbing under your eyes with the sleeve of your jumper to wipe away the tears.

“You’re okay.” You said to yourself in the mirror. “You’re okay.”

You found that talking moved the cuts on your face and they stung even worse. So no talking it was. Brilliant.

“You’re okay.” You reminded yourself one last time.

But your words felt far from convincing.

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remusremorse · 3 months

Text

Helping Hand

Only you can give Spencer what he needs.

Warnings: Sub Spencer but more like Spencer is just totally whipped for reader, handjob, whining, whimpering

WC: 1.4k

You leave early for work in the morning, knowing that Spencer has a day off and intending to give him the day to himself to relax. Spencer rarely gets to take time off and rest, and you know that he wouldn’t have chosen to stay home unless it was ordered. You know he must be exhausted, and as such, you’re surprised to get a text from him in the afternoon that reads “SOS.” Fearing for the worst, you tell your boss you have an emergency and rush home.

You’re home in record time, fumbling with your keys as you rush inside. Dropping your bags haphazardly, you slam the door shut and try to quell your panic. Spencer has never given you a cause for concern about his well-being, despite the nature of his line of work.

“Spencer?” you call.

No response.

You try again, “Spence?”

He doesn’t respond, and your heart drops. Approaching the door to your bedroom, you listen intently and register something that sounds like crying. The sight that lies behind the door isn’t one you’re prepared for.

You’re greeted by the sight of Spencer, tangled in bedsheets and propped up against several pillows, arm pumping as he strokes his cock aggressively. Resisting the urge to snort in disbelief–this is an emergency?–you take it in, the way his body glistens with a thin sheen of sweat, the broken whimper that escapes his lips as he continues to touch himself, the way his head is thrown back. Sunlight filters in through the blinds, illuminating him like a goddamned painting, and he looks absolutely fucking divine.

You take all of this in, but most importantly, you focus on how painfully hard he looks, the veins of his cock bulging and tip an angry shade of red. As you enter the room, his eyes snap open, and he gazes at you through his lashes.

“Hi,” he grins, sheepishly.

“‘Hi?’” you quip. “Spence, baby, why did you need me for this? I was at work.”

“I know, I know,” he pants, hand continuing to move at an unrelenting pace. “Just–needed you. Need you. Please.”

You raise an eyebrow, sorely tempted to give in to his pleading eyes, but he’s pulled you away from work in the middle of the day simply because he needs you so desperately. Knowing you have that effect on him is altogether intoxicating, and you intend to continue exercising that control.

“I don’t see what the problem is. You have two perfectly good hands, not to mention an eidetic memory,” you say, crossing your arms. “You could think about any time we��ve been together and replay it like it was happening right then and there.”

“But it’s not the same,” he whines. “Not just about…what we’ve done together.”

His voice cracks and he has to pause and swallow harshly.

“Need you. My hand’s not the same. I need it to be you.”

That gets to you. Your breath hitches and your thighs clench involuntarily as you think about how Spencer not only needs you so desperately that he’s called you home from work but how he quite literally can’t get off without your help.

Spencer’s voice cracks again as he whimpers again, resorting to begging, “Please…please, I need you to touch me.”

You walk closer to the bed, stooping so you can be at eye level with him. He glances at you, and he looks absolutely, completely ruined. His pupils are blown and he looks almost feral, hand moving back to his cock as he strokes himself to the sound of your voice.

“Exactly how long have you been at this?” You gesture vaguely.

He struggles for words, mouth opening and closing as he thinks.

“I don’t know,” he admits with a groan. “A while.”

“And…I assume you haven’t been able to…take care of yourself?”

Spencer shakes his head quickly, and you can see that his eyes are beginning to water. He’s visibly desperate, thighs trembling as he continues to run his hand over his length.

“Ohh, baby,” you click your tongue. “Let me take care of you.”

You can see the split-second change in Spencer’s demeanor as he sags against the bed in relief and his head tilts back against the headboard.

“Thank you, thank you,” he groans. “I’ll be good…”

Humming noncommittally in response, you clamber clumsily onto the bed and seat yourself between his thighs. Spencer’s eyes open wide as he tries to glean what you’re about to do, gaze fixed on you, chest rising and falling heavily with each breath he takes. His eyes track each movement of your body as you make yourself comfortable between his thighs and he licks his lips in anticipation.

You nudge his thighs open wider with your knee, forcing his body on display for you. His breath hitches–he feels so exposed. But for you? He can live with that.

Your hand ghosts over the tip of his leaking cock and he groans–and God if that doesn’t shake you to your core. You haven’t even touched him yet, and he’s already a mess for you. His cock is glistening with precum and you bite your lip in fascination as more spurts out the instant you graze his tip.

Glancing up, you watch Spencer’s eyes roll back into his head and he whimpers softly, chasing your touch as he thrusts his cock into your hand.

“Impatient, aren’t we?” you chide, withdrawing your hand. “I thought you said you’d be good?”

He whines dejectedly at the loss of your touch but reluctantly obliges.

You set a torturously slow pace, focusing your attention on his cockhead. He’s so wet and responsive, and it makes a downright sinful squelching noise when you tighten your grip and squeeze his length.

“Fuck…” Spencer pants, sucking in a sharp breath.

His back arches involuntarily and he moans obscenely as you run your thumb over his leaking tip.

You’ve barely touched him, yet he can feel his core tense and thighs tremble and he’s already so close. Pathetic, he thinks. But it’s no use. He’s a wreck, only for you. Always, for you.

Noticing Spencer’s growing desperation, you recognize the tells of his impending orgasm. His uneven breath, erratic movement of his hips, and unending stream of moans tell you all you need to know. Smirking, you loosen your grip around his cock and slow down.

“So close already? And here I thought you’d built up some stamina…”

Spencer’s eyelids flutter as his breath catches, clearly teetering close to the edge. He whines softly in protest as you decrease your pace, hips bucking as he fucks himself roughly into your loose grip around his cock. His voice cracks as he whimpers loudly, hands grasping frantically at the sheets when you tighten your grip again.

“Oh–I…oh–fuck…”

You smirk at the threadiness of his voice, relishing in the control you have over him. As you stroke him from base to tip he throws his head back and releases a stream of thoroughly desperate moans.

“Please…please,” Spencer groans, nearly incoherent. “Please, let me…”

His words trail off, caught in his throat and all that comes out is a needy, breathless moan. His grasp on the sheets tightens as his hips stutter, thrusting his throbbing cock farther into your grip.

His thrusts become more and more erratic, and he might as well be hyperventilating with the speed at which he’s panting.

“‘M close,” he warns.

“I know, baby, I know.”

You coax him over the edge and Spencer releases a nearly ear-shattering moan, limbs thrashing as he scrambles to grab something–anything to keep himself grounded as your touch sends him out of this world. His vision goes white, and he finally gets the relief he’s been seeking for hours.

His release spurts over your hand and coats his abdomen. It’s messy and obscene and God help you–beyond hot.

Spencer breathes heavily, chest heaving, and stares at you with a blissed-out, love-struck grin.

“Thank you, baby,” he murmurs.

He reaches out and tucks your hair behind your ear, cradling your face. He kisses you fervently, tugging lightly on your hair, and bites your lip.

You pull away slowly and smile at him. Spencer looks decidedly fucked out, hair messy and face and chest flushed–and he’s never looked more beautiful.

You whisper quietly, “You owe me one.”

“Mm…give me a couple of minutes, baby, and I promise I’ll pay you back.”

#he’s so fucking sexy #and pretty

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