#Remus lupin x you smut | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bitchyycapricorn · 11 months

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Pathetic

Remus Lupin x Pureblood! Reader

Masterlist

Wordcount: 2.7K

Synopsis: “Bite me Lupin.” You challenge, raising your head to look into his amber eyes.

Remus smirks, leaning down into your ear. “I’m going to fuck the pure-blood out of you.” He growls.

“Do it then.” You snap back, feeling Remus’s hand on your bare thigh.

“I’m going to ruin you.”

Warnings: Smut!, enemies to lovers trope, angst, cursing, P in V, fingering

AN: lightly edited

It was your glare that caught Remus’s attention. The way your eyes narrowed the moment the two of you made eye contact. You sat across the hall at the Slytherin table, chatting with your friends and poking your food with a fork that some idiot let you have. Remus didn’t trust that you wouldn’t stand up at any given moment and come stab him in the neck with it. He had every right to not trust you with sharp objects of course, since the moment your eyes locked with the brown haired boy you couldn’t help but think about dragging the fork down his throat and watching his filthy half-blood self beg for his life.

“You’re staring Lupin.” You taunt from across the room.

“Well clearly so are you L/N.” Remus counters proudly. He sat up a little more in his seat as a smirk fixes on his face.

“Yes well,” you smile, “I was just wondering how your whore of a muggle mother was doing. Still spreading her legs in hopes for something magical?” Your voice was dripping with venom as you mock Remus’s family life.

Remus clench’s his jaw, his hand bawling into a fist of rage . “You-“

“She’s not worth it mate,” James mutters, pulling his friends attention away from your proud face. Remus knew they were right, there was no point in arguing with you again. You always seem to win after all. No matter how many times they call you out for you skewed views on blood status, you always manage to shoot back with how at least your family loves you because you weren’t some blood-traitor or half-blood freak. At that point the boys would accept there was just no changing your views on these matters.

To make things even worse, you were a favorite in the Slytherin house. Many of the student’s believe you’ll be the next heir of Slytherin after all, between your family status and that fact you were a parselmouth. These factors made it nearly impossible for the boys to ever get back at you for your snarky remarks. The whole house would be up in arms defending you, and you’d just set a snake on poor defenseless Peter again. Remus backs down from the fight, looking back at his plate and resuming his eating. You sat proudly with your friends, laughing about how pathetic Remus was, not even standing up for his own mother. Laughter fills the Slytherin table until everyone is dismissed to go back to class.

+++

Remus was back in the library for the third time that day. It’s been a few days since the lunch table incident and Remus found the only way he could escape your taunting was by hiding deep in the bookcases of the library. He was enjoying hiding behind a bookcase and reading up on the new D.A.D material that was assigned when a figure turns the corner and bump into him.

“Ugh. Seriously?” You huff as you gather your books back into your arms. “Watch were you’re standing loony Lupin. God, you’re such a menace you know that?” You grumble.

Remus startles at your sudden presence, feeling the color drain from his face as his eyes met yours. “I was here first,” he squeaks out. A blush spreads across his face while his eyes search for an escape route.

“You think I care if you were here first? A filthy, disgusting, half-blood like you shouldn’t even be standing in my presence, let alone in my way while I’m trying to retrieve my books.” You spit. Your face was bright red as you push past Remus’s frozen body. He could feel every ounce of dignity he had left leave him in that moment.

“You don’t have to be such a bitch you know.” He mutters under his breath as he begins to leave.

Your head snaps in his direction as a scowl spreads across your face “Excuse me?”

Remus turns to face you, attempting to stand a little straighter in the process. “You heard me. I said, you don’t have to be such a bitch.”

Your body was shaking with rage, ‘how dare such an inferior half-blood speak to me in such a manner’ you thought as you clench your jaw. “Say that shit again, I dare you.” Your voice was sharp like a blade threatening to cut Remus open. He winces, backing up slightly.

“We both know its true. You are a bitch. A pure-bloo-“ Remus couldn’t finish his sentence before he was being thrown back into the bookshelf. Your body slamming against his roughly, books falling as you and Remus make impact with the shelf behind him.

“You think I’m a bitch? I’ll show you bitch.” You seethe, your first bawling around his now disheveled robes. “Fuck you Remus Lupin.”

“Fuck me?” Remus growls back. You pause for a moment at his words.

“You want me to what?” You tease, a small laugh escaping your lips.

“Shit. No that’s not what I-“ Remus groans, feeling you release him from your grip.

You back away from Remus, your eyes scanning his body up and down in the process. His back was still pressed up against the bookshelf, his hair is messed up and his robe was thrown open. Your eyes lock on his very obvious boner, causing your face to flush an even brighter red.

“You’re fucking disgusting Lupin.” You grumble, grabbing your books from the table and walking away.

+++

It had been a week since you saw Remus in the library, you were avoiding him at all cost. You’d never admit it, not even to yourself, that you were highly attracted to the scarred Gryffindor boy. Something about him made your knees weak and your body feel like it was on fire. You knew it would never matter how hot and bothered Remus made you, your family would kill him on sight if it weren’t a crime. So you held your head high and made his life a living hell.

The bell rang, dismissing everyone from their classes for the day. You gather your potions books and watch as students file out of the classroom. Professor Slughorn wishes you a good rest of your day as he exits the classroom as well, leaving you alone.

You continue to gather your books and put away your materials until you hear the door slam shut. You look up to see the Marauders on the other side casting a blood lock spell on the door. Your heart drops as you realize you’re trapped in the potions room until either Slughorn returns after supper, or until tomorrow morning. “Bloody hell,” you mutter, slamming your book on to the table.

“Really? You’re mad? They accident left me in here with you.” Remus grumbles as he appears from behind the far wall of the classroom holding some extra ingredients that were reserved only for the upper class potion students.

“Of course I’m stuck in here with the freak.” You groan, glaring at Remus as he approaches your table. “You know, nobody likes a scarred freak. Obnoxiously tall and built and…fuck” you mumble turning your head away from Remus realizing that if you keep talking you’ll only embarrass yourself.

“Tall and built? Didn’t know you had the capability of complimenting someone.” Remus teases, a sudden surge of confidence coursing though him as he continues to walk towards you.

“Fuck off Lupin, you’re the one who said you wanted to fuck me the other day.” A blush spreads across your face as the words leave your mouth. You can still vividly remember just how hot Remus looked pushed up against the bookshelf. The way his hair was a mess and his robes hanging off his perfect body.

“I did say that didn’t I? Also, I want you to know I’m not any happier about being stuck with you L/N. You’re an obnoxious stuck up brat.” Remus tosses his ingredients onto the table before turning to face you. “All you do is bitch. Complaining about others not being ‘good enough’ because they aren’t some snobby pure-bloods. You think you’re so much better than everyone else is that it?” Remus teases as he pins you between himself and the empty table behind you.

“Bite me Lupin.” You challenge, raising your head to look into his amber eyes.

Remus smirks, leaning down into your ear. “I’m going to fuck the pure-blood out of you.” He growls.

“Do it then.” You snap back, feeling Remus’s hand on your bare thigh.

“I’m going to ruin you.” Remus taunts, his hand sliding up your thigh now. “I’m going to fuck you until you’re nothing more than a pathetic mess underneath me. Begging me to keep going, to keep ruining your perfect little pure-blood self.”

You let out a groan, hands gripping the table behind you. His hand burns your skin as it travels further up your skirt, the heat traveling all the way up your body and leaving a pool in your underwear.

“You like the sound of that don’t you Y/N? You want a half-blood to fuck you, don’t you? What would daddy say if he saw you like this? Hot and flustered for me.” Remus presses a rough kiss to your neck, biting down on the tender skin.

“I-“ you let out a moan, pushing your body up against Remus’s.

“Use your words.” Remus’s hot breath hits your neck and sends a shiver down your spine.

“Yes Remus, I want you to fuck me. I want you to ruin me, please.” You moan as Remus hand slides your now soaking underwear to the side.

“Look at you, such a good girl using her words.” Remus teases as his middle and ring finger slide into your hot cunt. You throw your head back at the feeling. Your hips jerk forward, rocking ever so slightly on Remus’s fingers. Remus slowly pulled his fingers out of you before pushing them back in. You let out another series of moans as you rock your hips desperately.

“Remus please,” you beg as his fingers slide in and out of you.

“Please what?” Remus groans, his fingers getting faster.

Your voice is barley as whisper “Fuck me, please.” You moan.

“I can’t hear you clearly….” He says teasingly, pulling away from your body slightly. “Just say it louder, and more clearly so I can hear you love…” He whispers into your ear with a smirk on his face.

“Remus please,” you beg.

"Please... what my love? Please tell me what you want." His voice is dark and teasing now.

“I want you to fuck me” you whimper.

His smile widens, his eyes fill with lust as he takes you in. He pulls you closer, his fingers fucking you mercilessly, he whispers into your ear once again. “I can't hear you my love..."

“Fuck you Remus. Fuck me please,” you cry, moving your hands from the table to grab onto his Gryffindor robes.

Remus smiles, his eyes fixing on yours. “Now we’re getting somewhere.” He spoke as he kisses down your neck. “You want me to fuck you? Is that what you want.. My love?”

”Yes Remus, please. I need you please” tears brim the bottom of your eyes as Remus’s finger continue to slide in and out of you roughly.

"As you wish my love..." He pulls away from your neck and connects your lips passionately. His fingers curling inside your aching cunt, never slowing for a second. "I'm going to fuck you until you can’t stand anymore..." Remus pulls away from you, removing his fingers completely. Your eyes go wide in a confusion. You felt so empty without Remus’s fingers inside of your, or his body pressing against yours. You watch as Remus loosens the tie around his neck, pulling it over his head. He begins to shed his robes, his undershirt coming of next. You pause, admiring how toned his chest was, and the way light pink scars litter his chest and abdomen. “Quit staring and start stripping love,” Remus smirks as he pulls off his trousers.

“Shut it,” you grumble, loosening your tie as well before pulling it off completely. You follow his lead, stripping yourself completely naked. Your eyes meet his again before he pushes you up and onto the table. Your legs are quick to straddle Remus’s hips, pulling him closer as his lips attack yours hungrily.

“I’ve wanted you for so bloody long,” Remus groans, lining himself up at your entrance. His cock just barley enters you when a cry of pleasure escapes your throat. You bite down onto his shoulder harshly, trying to quiet yourself as Remus fully enters your aching cunt. His warm skin pressing against yours as his hips snap back and forth. His hands travel under your ass squeezing roughly as he lifts you off the table so he could thrust up into you.

Another cry escapes your lips as Remus helps guide you up and down his hard cock. You feel your whole body shaking as he pound up into you. His lips just barley ghosting kisses over the skin of your neck and shoulders, leaving a hot burning sensation spreading all throughout your body. Throwing your arms around his neck your fingers find their way to his hair, gently tugging on the fluffy brown strands.

A string of moans fall from your swollen lips at the feeling of Remus inside you. You could feel every inch of him as he fucks you senseless. Your mind is hazy as the world around you seems to disappear. The only thing your mind can register is the feeling of his cock thrusting in and out of you. Your walls contracting around him as he hits all the right spots deep within you.

“Fuck Y/N,” Remus moans, setting you back down on the table. Remus pulls out of you slowly before pulling you off the table and flipping you around.

“Oh my..uh,” you let out a whimper as your body presses against the cold table. Remus pushes into you from behind, placing one hand on your lower back and the other on your hips. His thrusts pick up again as he slams into you from behind. Small moans and whimpers escape your lips as your body is pushed up and down against the table. Remus’s thrusts are hard and forceful, pushing deeper and deeper into you each time. Groaning, Remus digs his fingers into your hip, leaving little red marks from the force.

“I’m close,” Remus groans, pounding into you with more force than before. “I’m going to fill you up, ruin you like you deserve to be ruined.” You let out another cry at his words, placing your cheek against the cool table, submitting to Remus completely. Within a few more thrusts you can feel Remus twitch cock twitching inside you. Letting out a grunt, he finishes in you, pushing himself as deep as he possibly can. “Fuck,” Remus heaves before picking his thrusts back up.

“Fuck-oh Remus!” You moan as his hand travels down your back and the inside of your leg. His fingers dance across your heat before dipping between your folds so he can rub your clit. The sensation sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body as your cunt squeezes around his still throbbing cock. “Remus please don’t stop,” you beg, feeling your orgasm approaching quickly. Remus keeps up his thrusts as his fingers toy with your clit, making you cry out with pleasure. “Remus I’m-I’m” you sputter felling the coil in your stomach snap as your orgasm washes over you.

Remus lets out another grunt, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he pushes deep into you before cumming in you for a second time.

“Fuck,” He sighs, pulling out of your limp body. You let out a small moan in response, too fucked out to respond properly. Remus ran his finger down your spine slowly, a grin spreading across his beautiful lips. “You’re so pretty when you’re not being a total bitch.” He laughs.

A dry laugh escapes your lips as you find your strength to sit up. “And I suppose you’re pretty hot for a half-blood freak.” A teasing smile settles on your lips as you stand to face him.

“Fucking pure-blood,” Remus mutters, placing his hand on your cheek and bringing you in for a kiss.

You pull away for a moment to smile at him, “your pure-blood now dumbass,” you smirk, connecting your lips with his once again.

Remus laughs against you lips before mumbling “what’s daddy going to think?”

You shake your head, still pressing kisses to his lips as he talks. “Just shut up and kiss me Lupin.”

+++

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remusluvr · 8 months

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i've got soul but i'm not a soldier | remus lupin

summary: Remus can't stay away from you anymore. You can't either. content: fem reader, p in v, lovey-dovey ness, love confessions, mentions of eating (directed towards Remus, nothing bad though), unprotected sex, unedited note: based off this request

"Where are you going?"

He's laid out on your couch, face turned to the tv until you walk into the room. He looks comfortable and you wish you could change out of your dress into sweatpants and curl up with him. But you can't so you shake the thought off, finishing putting in your earrings.

"Out, Wyatt asked me on a date. We're going to that new restaurant downtown." He sits up on the couch, hands rubbing down the length of his thighs.

"Will you come back tonight?"

"Oh, uh, I'm not sure. You know I don't mind you staying here. Don't feel like you need to leave." He hums in response, eyeing you as you search for your purse and wallet. His arm is thrown around the back of the couch as he watches you in your pretty black dress and pretty shoes. The clacking against the floor warms his soul.

"I don't like Wyatt-"

You roll your eyes. You've already had this conversation - "It doesn't matter if you like Wyatt, Remus. I like him." and "Well, it should matter what your best friend thinks."

"-Why can't you just stay with me? Quality friend bonding. We can even watch that stupid movie you like."

"Hard offer to decline but I'm already running a little late so we'll have to put a pin in this conversation." Walking over to him, he leans his head back on the couch. You lean down and kiss his forehead, leaving a bit of your lipstick on the skin. Your thumb rubs it away. "I'll see you later."

And with that, you leave. It used to be easier to get you to cancel dates and stay with him the whole night. You used to jump at the opportunity but now it's like you're jumping away from him. Maybe you are, maybe you're tired of liking him as more than friends should like the other so you're putting a stop to it.

He's left all alone on your couch. Secretly, he hopes your date crashes and burns.

You laugh all the way through dinner and practically plan your second date right then and there. He's just the type of guy you like. Handsome, intelligent, tall, sweet.

And at the end of the night, Wyatt walks you to the door, kisses you on the cheek, and tells you he'll call. Remus sees this from his position on the balcony, cigarette held idly between his fingers. He also sees the way you deflate after he walks away. Was it not a good date? Did Wyatt treat you badly?

"Have fun?" he asks, walking back in through the screen door. You startle, clutching at your chest as you mess with the buckle on your shoes.

"I did. We had a good time."

Remus wants to scream. He wants to be the one taking you on a date so badly. Everything inside of him yells at him to grow a pair, to finally bite the bullet. But, he can't bring himself to risk your friendship. You mean too much to him.

His heart is weighed down. The last thing he wants is for you to get into a relationship. It'll ruin everything. He won't be able to stay over as much, won't be able to hold you when you're having a bad day, won't be able to do any of the things he loves doing with you.

Wyatt's good for you, he'll make you happy. It's what you keep telling yourself in your head. You hate that you can't get Remus out of your head.

Remus feels erratic like he's clutching at straws with you, trying to get you to like him back. And you feel crazy for even thinking of him as more than a friend. You feel like a bad friend.

"Do you need help with those?" he laughs, watching the way you're still struggling to get the clasp of your shoe undone. Laughing, you kick your foot out towards him and he joins you on the floor. His nimble fingers are a much better fit for the job than your shaky ones. His hands rub your foot before working on the other one.

How are you supposed to not love him?

You thank him with a kiss on the cheek. He swoons, making you giggle at him.

"You look very pretty," he whispers, helping you stand up. Your face grows hot at his compliment as you wave him off, trekking back to your bedroom to change into your pajamas and wash your face for the night. He follows you. "I mean it. Wyatt's a lucky guy."

You don't say anything as you get ready for bed. He loves this time of the night, loves how comfortable you feel with him. And he especially loves the way he can pretend you're his. The moment is so domestic that it makes him feel dizzy and when you crawl onto the bed beside him, he digs himself deeper into his hole.

"Did you eat?" you ask, getting comfortable under your blankets. He shakes his head and you scold him, "Remus. You need food. You're always such a grouch when you don't eat."

"I am not the grouch when I don't eat. You are," he bites back, fingers poking at your side. You take offense, sitting up to look at him better.

"Why must you be so mean to me?" you tease, fake-crying so he'll feel bad. It works as it always does, and he cradles you into his arms, hand stroking your hair.

He knows you're faking, anyone in their right mind would know you're faking but it gives him an excuse to touch you. And you like the way he gets so protective over you. Nothing could ever affect you in this moment. His heart twists and his mouth moves faster than he can think.

"I'm glad we know each other."

"You're such a sap," you giggle, pulling your face away from his chest.

"Only for you." His tongue darts out, wetting his lips as you settle yourself into his neck. Your breath tickles him but he doesn't mind. The moment is so delicate he's afraid any movement could shatter it. "I feel like I'm losing you."

"Why? Because I went on a date?"

"Kinda, Wyatt's going to take you from me. But, also just cause I feel like you have been acting differently toward me."

Remus is right. You have been acting sort of differently. You don't reach out to him much, he's usually the one that just shows up on your doorstep.

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to." You do mean to. It's easier to get over your feelings for someone if you have less contact with them. Maybe it doesn't exactly work if when you are with that person you act like this. All cuddly and wanting for him.

Wyatt was supposed to be a new start. He was a boy that actually liked you and that wanted to be with you. He was kind and loved to hear you ramble. He was respectful and handsome. You should like Wyatt, but you can't get Remus out of your head. You never have been and you never will, you fear.

"(Y/N)?" he asks after you've grown quiet for longer than usual. You hum. He tries to calm the shake in his body. "Please don't see him again."

"What?" you ask, sitting up, still in his lap.

"Please don't go on another date with him." He knows he sounds pathetic, begging for you, but he can't help it.

"Remus, why?" His hair is messy and he looks adorable.

"I can't see you with him. You shouldn't be with him. He's not right for you and I think you know that." You do know that. He swallows his fear as he continues on, "It's not fair that I can't have you. You mean everything to me and I can't see you with him. It hurts too much."

You're silent and his brain is screaming at him. His face is on fire as you look at him. He's an idiot. Why did he say anything? His throat burns with the threat of incoming tears and he swallows hard, pushing them away.

"I won't see him again." The look on his face melts you. It's one of confusion mixed with relief. You lean forward to ease his confusion, pressing your lips to his. He takes you willingly, hands holding your face. You whine when he pulls away first, chasing after his lips as he catches his breath.

You have a stupid smile on your face. He mirrors your expression as his head tips back against your headboard.

"You look pretty," you whisper, kissing at the exposed skin of his neck. His hands have a firm grip on your hips. You smile against his skin when he whimpers at your nibbling. "So, so pretty."

"Y-you should look at yourself," he whispers back, eyes shut as you kiss behind his ear. He can't believe his luck. He has the girl he's wanted since school in his lap, calling him pretty and biting at his ear. He must've died and gone to heaven for this to be happening.

"I wish you had said something sooner. Or I wish I had told you. Never would've even thought about another guy."

Yeah, he has to be dead.

"Lily's been nagging me to just tell you. She doesn't like Wyatt either," you mumble, enjoying the way he's so intoxicated on you. He likes your boldness. It doesn't happen often but the rush from your love confessions must have you giddy. You press kisses along his jawline, stopping at his lips. "You mean so much to me, was just scared that you'd freak out and leave me, y'know."

"Yeah, I get that," he sighs, deepening the kiss. His hand holds the back of your head to keep your face to his. It makes you feel shy. You know the perfect way to really kill him but you've never seen Remus in this light before and the knowledge of that strikes you down. He's left to be the bolder one, flipping you over and pressing you against your pillows.

You're panting into his mouth and he's loving every single second of it. He loves to be in control, loves having you yearning for more underneath him. Any composure he thought he had is gone when you pant out, "All I could think about on my date was hoping you were here when I got back."

He moans into your mouth, pulling away to rest his forehead against yours. He's a goner. And despite the fact that he wants to do this right, he can't stop imagining what it would be like to fuck you. He can't though, not yet. He's got one chance and he won't fuck it up.

"You're making this very hard, sweetheart." He knows exactly what he'll do. He'll start with a nice date to a restaurant of your choice, maybe a walk or a drive after to somewhere with a nice view where he will kiss you chastely, and then when you return to either one of your apartments (yours preferably, he's been having a pest problem. the pests being James and Sirius) where he'll fuck you, like a gentleman.

"This?" you ask, voice smooth and sultry as your hand reaches down, palming him over his sweatpants. His plan flies out the window. Your fingers dip into the waistline of his pants, pulling lightly. "Want them off."

"Needy girl," he chastises as though he isn't already on the brink of cumming in his pants. He moves off the bed, removing his pants and boxers before laying back down, allowing you to crawl back over to him, hand wrapping around his cock.

He's definitely died.

You're glad that you don't have any roommates right now with how loud Remus is being. You love it. These are the only sounds you want to hear for the rest of your life. He hates that all the focus is on him.

He reaches out, pulling at the bottom of your shirt. You relent, releasing Remus from your grip to pull your shirt over your head. He sucks in a breath at the lacy bra you're wearing. You must have kept it on after your date.

A tinge of jealousy rushes through his veins at the thought of you wearing it for someone else. It quickly simmers out once he remembers that you're all his now. He smiles, pulling you to sit on his lap again.

"Rem," you sigh when he pulls the cups of your bra down, leaning in to pull one of your nipples between his teeth. He loves the squeak he gets out of you and the way you grind your hips down onto him. "Don't tease me, please."

"You make me so happy." He doesn't know where all this gooeyness is coming from. He's always felt it but the fact that he can say it aloud now has him keening. He watches the flush take over your cheeks as his hands settle on your hips, helping you move against him.

There are a lot of things Remus wants to do to you. He's glad that he has so much time to do them all with you.

It's difficult to focus when you can feel him underneath you. You're so wet that you're sure he'd be able to just slip right inside you, no prep needed. You test your luck, pushing your underwear to the side and guiding him with your hand.

"Oh my fucking god," he whines when you sink down on him. He holds you down, not letting you move. You lean forward, pressing kisses on his face. It's not helping. He needs to cum so bad and the feel of your wet cunt has only increased that feeling by tenfold.

"Let me move, I wanna make you feel good." It takes him a moment but he lets you take the lead, letting his head drop back against the headboard as he watches you. He can never go back to how you were before. He needs this at every moment of every day. "A-ah, you're so big."

"Doing s-such a good job, bunny." That's a new nickname. You like it. You wrap your arms around his neck, burying your face in his neck as you fuck yourself back on him. His hands grip your ass, spreading you open so you can really feel all of him. "So, so perfect for me."

He feels your lips pecking at his neck again and his arms wrap around you, taking complete control as he bounces you down on him. You don't have any time to warn him that you're about to cum before you're cumming. It pushes him right over the edge and he cums inside of you.

"Shit," he groans when he can think again. You're putty in his hands, letting his limp cock rest inside of you, no want to move any time soon. He pushes your face up with a few fingers at your chin. Your eyes are so heavy that they're barely open. He's proud of himself. "I'm sorry, baby."

"What?" you worry, eyes flying open. Did he think this was a mistake? Were you only a fuck to him? You can't go back now, not when you know how good he fucks you.

"I didn't mean to finish inside." Your heart rate returns to normal and you drop back down onto his shoulder, shrugging. You like it. His brain is spinning. His hands rub soothing circles on your back before he's working you off of him, cooing when you hiss at the overstimulation of him pulling out.

"Love you, Rem," you mumble as he helps you get comfortable in bed. He can't resist pressing a kiss to your forehead before reaching over and turning your lamp off.

"Love you too."

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prettybabybaby · 2 years

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WAIT BUT THIS— reader’s on remus’ lap and they’re casually making out. suddenly, reader tries to make remus suck on her fingers to which he surprisingly agreed to. but then she retracts them wet with remus’ saliva and shoves them in her panties… remus’ just there watching reader finger herself with his saliva as her lube

remus is high, mind hazy and body tingling in delight as your body rests atop his, soft flesh melding into each other. your eyes are stained a slight pink and you look focused, scanning his face.

you silently bring your fingers to his lips, tugging his bottom lip down with your index, middle, and ring fingers, searching for some sort of reaction. you push your fingers inside and his brows furrow faintly but he allows it, curious.

twirling your fingers around the wet cavern, your lips part. you press down on his tongue and he recoils, unconsciously sucking lightly. you release a shaky breath, pupils dilating. remus he sucks again, coating your fingers with a messy layer of saliva. you shift on his thighs, grazing his hardening cock.

a string of spit connects his bottom lip to your shining fingers. you stare at it, slowly sliding your gaze up to his eyes. you circle your fingers, breaking the bond in half. it falls to remus’ chin and he darts his tongue out, collecting it.

remus watches you lift your skirt, exposing your panties. he looks from the wet spot to your eyes, giving you a little smirk. you don’t react, instead you slip your soaked fingers under the waistband of your panties, sighing contently as you begin to rub slow circles onto your clit.

he feels himself harden some more, watching as you pick up your pace and your head falls backwards, mouth agape and eyes closed tight. your thighs tense and relax, and your chest heaves. breathy moans and whines bubble up your throat and pop in his ears, the effects sliding down to cock that begins to leak. he hold your hips, leaning forward to lazily kiss your neck. you lean into his touch, moving your fingers with increasing fervor.

he itches to touch you, replace your pathetic movements but he refrains, loving the look of bliss and frustration that stares back at him when you finally open your eyes. your brows furrow and your thighs tense, a prolonged whine gets caught in your throat abruptly as you begin to convulse in pleasure. you fight to keep your eyes open as you rub yourself through your orgasm, looking at him lustfully. his cock aches.

you collapse forward, sloppily aiming to kiss his lips but you miss completely, slobbering all over his jaw. he captures your lips, kissing your passionately as you relax into him.

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melodramaschild · 1 year

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A thought: Remus is always a dom before the full moon and all suby right after.

Oh he is.

The hormones wilding in his body more than in my body with alarming hormonal imbalance.

He’s always keeping you close because you’re only his and his only. The full moon is making tired and full of energy all at once. Most of the time you spent the whole afternoon in his lap, his long arm wrapped around you, holding you close because What if someone will want to hurt you? He has to protect you.

You always sit in him lap, his long arm wrapped around you, keeping you safe and warm.

The other hand is supposed to hold a book but he needs his hands on you, so you hold it for him. The other hand is on your tight, rubbing your clothed or naked skin to keep you warm and safe.

He reads out loud to you, occasionally peppering your hairline with kisses and he always and constantly puts some words of affirmation and praise. Words of possessiveness too.

“My girl, only my pretty girl.”

When he takes a nap with you he locks you in, you’re always curled up in his arms and he’s wrapped around you. He has to keep you safe.

Always holds your hand, always keeps and eye on you, always opens you the door (he already does it). But in this moment? You’re his precious little girl that he would keep in his pocket just to keep you safe.

Hand always on your lower back, your bag on his shoulder, picking up everything for you, carrying your feed and handing you a bottle of water.

Skipping classes with him because his kisses were so hot on your skin, on your neck, on your cheek, on your shoulders. Because his kisses were marking up your skin, from your breasts to your thighs and then he spent decades of minutes between your legs. Lapping up at your pussy as you’re drenching on his face, making puddle on the bed.

Then he’s pounding into you, taking your hand in his as he tells you how good you’re to him. Pinning your hands above your as his hips are snapping into you.

He mocks you that you’re grinding back on his hips like a bunny in heat but if he saw himself and the way he pounds into you, he would tell otherwise. Because he’s the one who shags you like a rabbit in heat. It looks a bit funny, but it feels so good.

“My little bunny, taking me so well,” his cock is nudging into all of those good spots. “Gonna mark you up, cum in you and breed you.” His breathing is short and you know that the wolf in him is talking.

“Gonna breed you so full, get you all full of me so everyone knows that you belong to me.” And you can’t help but beg him to cum in you, to breed you too. “Gonna mark you up like that, as mine only, only mine.”

But after The full moon?

He’s full of hormones too.

His cock painfully hard and leaking underneath his sleeping shorts too. “Please miss, touch me,” he chokes on a sob as you pull down his drenched shorts.

“My little moon is making such a mess, isn’t he?” You stroke his hair as he bucks his hips. “Fuck!” he squeaks as he cums, untouched. Ropes of cum landing his exposed stomach, all up to his torso. He’s breathing fast and hard, his chest rapidly raising and falling.

“Shh, you’re okay,” you coo, slipping your hand down and down his chest until you grip his still hard and twitching cock.

“Please more.” He begs and you lean down, your lips brushing against his ear. “You’re gonna cum all night and I won’t let you go for a one minute.”

And he’s cumming in your hand too, his wolf is so easy after The Full Moon. “That’s two, you’re going to give me way more.”

“Yes mommy.” He breathes out.

Then he’s snapping his hips into you and holding onto your hips as you ride him. His face is hidden between your breasts and he’s begging you. “Please mommy, let me cum in you, please miss. Need to fill you up.”

And he begs so prettily that you let him.

He clings onto you. Curling into your arms as he sleeps on your breasts, letting you play with his hair and he’s comfortably dozing off.

He holds onto you. Now you’re the one who has him behind your back and leads him in the next week. Now you’re the one who kisses his pouty lips.

You cares his body with tenderness and gentleness, kissing around his new wounds and kiss his old scars. Put ointments on them and tell him what a pretty boy he is. You hold him up as he’s trying to walk again. You are there, and holding him. And for the first time he feels like a human after the full moon and not like a monster.

Because people help the people and at the end you’re right here by his side.

#remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x reader smut #remus lupin x reader fluff #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x you smut #remus lupin x you fluff #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin x y/n smut #remus lupin x y/n fluff #robies dialogues #robies headcanon #headcanon of the day

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strawberrysodaslut · 2 years

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Hiiii, can I request sub reader asking Dom Remus ( it can be poly marauders too) how it is to be a Dom

Love your blog and the way you write

Thanks 💕💕

What’s it like? - Remus Lupin x GN!Reader

❛ ━━━━━━━━･❪ ❁ ❫･━━━━━━━━━ ❜

[ remus lupin masterlist ]

[ main masterlist ]

❛ ━━━━━━━━･❪ ❁ ❫･━━━━━━━━━ ❜

summary: you want to know what it’s like to be a dom, who better to ask than your boyfriend, Remus

warnings: sexual themes, 18+ mdni, dom!remus, sub!reader, im pretty sure i didn’t mention readers gender, indications of sex afterwards but no smut scene.

a/n: hi! thank you so much for your kind words! i didn’t know much about what it’s like being a dom and i didn’t wanna just guess so i did a little research. It’s quite a short little blurb but I hope it does your request justice <3

taglist: @mischieftom

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❛ ━━━━━━━━･❪ ❁ ❫･━━━━━━━━━ ❜

You used to hate rainy days. Although you loved rainy nights, often being soothed to sleep by the sounds of the wet raindrops hitting the windows, rainy days were not for you.

That was until you met Remus.

He was a warm person, not just in his personality, but he was a literal space heater. You’d spend the majority of the rainy day cuddled up in his arms, enjoying the peaceful sounds of the rain.

That’s where you were right now, as the question popped into your head.

“Remmy?” You say. He hums, brushing his hands through your hair, softly playing with it. “Can I ask you a question?” You ask.

He presses a kiss to your temple, “Of course, baby,”

You sigh, the slight anxiety and awkwardness of your question washing away with his kind touches, “What’s it like being a dom? Like, what do you like about it?”

You can feel his smile behind you, he huffs a laugh, “Why’d you ask?” He asks, quickly tensing up, “Are you not comfortable with it?”

His question has you quickly shaking your head, “No, no, I love it. I just wanted to know what it’s like.” You say, rubbing the arm that’s wrapped around you to soothe him.

He relaxes in your touch, giving a big sigh. “It’s- uh…” he chuckles, “there’s a couple of things I guess…”

You hum, “So tell me all of them- unless you’re not comfortable.” You say, reassuring him that this is a safe place.

He sighs, “I’m completely comfortable talking about this stuff you love,” He presses a kiss to your cheek “Just wanted to make sure you’re okay with hearing my rambles.”

“Always” You reply.

He takes a big sigh, “I guess, the main reason why I like it, you know how i’m a bit of a control freak, yeah?” You laugh, knowing exactly what he’s talking about.

“Yeah you do. Well, I feel like I don’t have that much control in my life, y’know, with the whole wolf thing.” You can feel him start to tense, so you make sure to press a kiss to his arm.

He continues, “Its just nice to have that control, to be able to make decisions when a lot of the ones for my life have been taken away.” He sighs, his arms getting a bit tighter around you, trying to pull you closer.

“But also…” He continues, “it’s about trust, seeing how you trust me with anything, trusting me to stop if you’re not comfortable, letting me have that control- it’s hot as fuck.”

You giggle, “Yeah?” you say, teasing your boyfriend.

He nods, “And seeing how needy you get.” He blows a breath, “begging for me to touch you, writhing when I do, going into a whole damn subspace because of how good I fuck you- it feels fucking incredible.”

You smile, and he turns you around to face him. “Does that make sense?” He asks.

You nod, “Yeah, I feel like the idea is still so daunting though.”

He laughs, pulling your chest into his, pressing his forhead against yours. “It does get like that sometimes. Sometimes I feel like a fucking idiot trying to get you to do all these things.”

You furrow your brows, pressing a kiss to his cheek. Why would he feel like an idiot?

“But, when I see how you respond, how happy you are to do all of this shit, I know I’m in the right place, and I can go loose around you.” He says, planting a chaste kiss on your lips, “You make me feel safe.” He says.

You grip the neckline of his sweatshirt, pulling him into a long kiss. He immediately reciprocates, carding your hands though his hair. The two of you sit there for a bit, lazily making out with eachother.

He pulls back, “Should we have a demonstration?” He asks, bumping his nose into yours.

You nod, giggling as he picks you up and carried you to his dorm.

With Remus, rainy days are your favourite.

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ohwowimlonley · 3 months

Note

ohhhh free use with poly!marauders would be something like the boys making it hard for reader to do watch a movie because they keep using her holes and passing her around. imagine the boys sitting in one couch and the reader is seated in remus' dick, waiting for him to cum until she is passed to the other boys 😵‍💫

Changed this a tiny bit to fit a bit better but here :) (btw its roommates!marauders)

Cw for free use/advanced consent

You’re alone in your room, curled up in the corner of your bed, blanket covering your thighs as you finally start watching you’re favourite movie. It’s the middle of the day, so you’re the only one at home while the boys are out at work. See, you and your roommates had come to an agreement; they would go out to work and pay the rent and bills and buy groceries (and occasionally gifts for you), allowing you to spend your days as you please. In return, they ask for only one thing: your advanced consent.

Now, let’s not get silly here, you can always tell the boys no at any time, and they constantly remind you of that fact. All the agreement means is that they don’t have to ask you, and sometimes they pull you away from what you’re doing when they really need you. There are also a few rules in place. For example, you shouldn’t wear panties around the house (that is, excluding extenuating circumstances), and you shouldn’t touch yourself before asking for their help first.

Just as the plot starts to get good, your bedroom door creeks open. You jump, not expecting anyone to be home for at least and hour and a half, but relax when you see it’s only Remus. Once he determines you’re not in the middle of something vital, he pushes the rest of the way into your room. He doesn’t say a word to you just yet, just pulls his tshirt over his head and works on unzipping his jeans, pulling out his cock from his boxers and tugging on it.

“Rem! You’re home early,” you grin up at him, not bothering to ask him why, it doesn’t matter so long as he’s home. He makes a noncommital ‘hmph’ sound as he clambers up next to you, grasping at your him and turning you onto your stomach, letting your shirt rise up and expose your pussy to the room, still puffy from James using it this morning.

“Shush,” he grunts, but he doesn’t really mean it. He just wants to get inside you as quickly as he can, “boys’ll be home soon, wanna have you first,”

You go to respond, but Remus interrupts your train of thought by letting a fat glob of spit fall from his lips onto the folds of your pussy and follows it with scraping his fingers through the stickiness. He wastes no time at all before slipping his cock into you, not going slow like he usually does to let you get used to his size.

You whine loudly at the burn his cock leaves you with, and while he doesn’t slow down he does set a soothing hand on the small of your back and bends over yiu to press a kiss to the bcak of your neck as he starts up his fast pace. It doesn’t take long for you to get used to the stretch, and you let your mouth drop open in a long, continuous moan.

You lose yourself in the sensations, almost forgetting about the movie still playing in the background as your roommate manhandles you all over your bed, using his full strength to let out his frustration on you. Remus hears the soft click of the front door opening, but you don’t, so you let out a confused whine when he pulls out of you.

“Shh, sweetheart,” he soothes, seating himself at the head of your bed and pulling you over his thighs, slipping himself back into you, “boys’re home, gotta make sure they don’t take my girl, huh?”

You don’t respond. You can’t, what with Remus slipping his fingers against your poor, aching clit. The door to your room is already wide open, so James and Sirius can see the two of you as soon as they get to the upstairs landing. James clears his throat and you whip your head around to see your two other roommates standing side by side, watching you take Remus’ cock. You make eye contact with Sirius, and he rolls his eyes playfully.

“Told you he’d get home first,” he jabs his elbow into James’ rib before taking his hand and sitting on the end of your bed with the other boy in tow.

“Your fault really, Pads,” he points out, then smiles up at you, shrugging his shoulders, “the boys were arguing this morning about who got to have you first when we got home,”

“I was gonna share with Jamesie here, but Moony’s a stinkin cheater,” the boy in question doesn’t pay them any attention, just renews his grip on your hips and brings them down to meet his own thrusts.

“Rem!” You protest, turning back towards him and putting your palms on his chest to keep your balance. You can feel him throbbing inside you, a telltale sign that he’s close, and thank goodness for that because you’re getting there too, and on days where they pass you back and forth like this, it’s best if you cum as little as possible in the beginning.

“Who’s it gonna be next, love?” James is always more careful with you, his voice always questioning, never demanding. This by no means indicates that he isn’t just as desperate as you. In fact, on days where it’s all three boys, theres never a time where he isn’t practically forcing his cock into you.

There’s no opportunity for you to even try to answer his question, because Remus is anchoring you to him and spurting his cum deep inside you.

Sirius goes to tug you from Remus’ lap, but he locks his arms around your back and prevents you from moving even an inch further away from him. Sirius and James let out grumbles of displeasure.

“Rem, honey, share,” you remind him. When he eventually lets you go, James gets to you first, “can I face this way? I wanna watch my movie,”

All three boys chuckle amoungst themselves, and silently vow to make it as difficult as possible for you to watch your movie.

#•megs talks•#•megs smutty daydreams•#marauders x y/n #marauders x you #marauders x reader #marauders moodboard #marauders fic #marauders smut #marauders #james potter x y/n #james potter x reader #james potter smut #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin smut #sirius black x reader #sirius black smut #harry potter x reader smut #harry potter x reader

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ddejavvu · 4 months

Note

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 · 9 months

Note

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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ginevrapng · 6 months

Text

bfd!marauders who pick you up after a night out and take care of you. you've had a girls night with your friends and have become absolutely wasted, in this state you don't know who to call to pick you up. harry is staying at ron's which is over 40 minutes away and you can't wait out in the cold outside of the club for 40 minutes. you definitely don't want to call your family members, not prepared tonight for a lecture about how drunk you are and how late you are out at so you call harry's dad, that makes the most sense to you. james is always so kind and you stay at his so often you're sure he'll pick you up.

you ring james and he seems worried at the fact you're calling at such a late hour as you drunkenly explain to him that you need a ride. james obviously doesn't hesitate to come get you, he's been up all night with sirius and remus but luckily he hasn't been drinking so he's good to pick you up. james gets to you quicker than you thought he would, you thought it takes longer but you're too cold and too drunk to properly think about it.

james rushes out of the car as he sees you waiting outside, shivering and hugging your arms. "shit sweetheart, you look freezing," he looks at you with worried eyes as he takes of his denim jacket and drapes it over your shoulders before placing his hand on your lower back leading you to the car. sober you would be incredibly flushed about this exchange and drunk you is just the same, your cheeks heat up and your stomach flutters with butterflies, you shiver again but this time it's due to james.

you don't even realise but james drives you to his house, halfway there you notice that you're going the wrong route. "where are we going?" you lift your head off from the car window and cock your head to the side.

james can't help but grin at how cute you look, "back to mine, it's quicker. we can get you some water and then you can stay in harry's room," he explains looking at you in the corner of his eye.

"okay," you say quietly and mumble the words to the songs on the radio.

as you walk through the door remus and sirius both quickly stand up from their seats, having been worried about you. james leads you inside as you sit on the sofa right next to where sirius was. sirius sits back down, james sits next to him and remus hovers above you all. "did'ya have a nice night doll?" sirius asks you and smirks, leaning further back on the sofa.

you hum and nod your head. "yeah it was good, a bit tired now though."

"i'll get you some water," remus leaves to go fetch you a drink as you settle down next to sirius. remus comes back and hands you the water, sitting across from you. you drink some but go and place the glass on the side before remus interrupts, "you've gotta drink it all," he says firmly with a slight smile. the tone he uses makes you think very inappropriate thoughts, it's not the first time you've thought of him like that and it certainly won't be the last but you know you're going to remember that stern tone he used when you're lying in bed at night or spending nights alone. you down the rest of the drink, doing what you were told and remus goes to take the glass out of your hands, "good girl." his hand brushes against you and you felt like you nearly whimpered. he's just so hot it's making you feel things, being in a room with three attractive men is making you feel things.

sirius had to suppress a chuckle as he heard your breathing hitch when remus touched you. "met any lucky fellas tonight doll?" sirius teasingly asks as he moves closer to you, you don't notice.

"nope, just me," you reply as you look down at your lap. all the guys eyes fall to your lap with you, staring at your thighs and how your pretty skirt is short and how it's also ridden up a bit too. they stay silent for a second and you think maybe the conversation is over or they don't have anything to say but really they're all distracted wondering what you'd feel like in their arms and how good you'd taste.

james clears his throat, realising that no one has answered you, "no one's good enough for you anyway sweetheart," james grabs your hand in his and squeezes. you feel his callous hand against your soft one and bite your lip to try and stop yourself from smiling all this accomplishes though is for james' gaze to shift down to you lips and stare.

"he's right," remus agrees earnestly and looks at you fondly.

you see sirius wink at you, making you feel warm, "it's true."

"thank you," you say softly.

"you're welcome sweetheart," james grins at you and you smile back.

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sweetiecutie · 1 year

Text

Pairing: Remus Lupin x fem! Reader

Warnings: NSFW, fingering, praising, remmy being a bit of a meanie but also absolutely lovely, public sex and exhibitionism but not really?,

Synopsis: Remmy fingering you in his bed with curtains drawn while all the boys are in the dorm as well, so you better be quiet, don’t you?

A/n: it’s my birthday today!!!🥳🎂 happy bday to me and have this lil treat<3 I really hope you like this lil thing

You and Remus were huddled up on his soft bed, numerous blankets and duvets are scattered everywhere, keeping two of you warm and comfy. Thick heavy curtains were drawn all around the bed, painting everything inside their confines deep scarlet, securely concealing both of you from the noise and havoc that usually reigned in boys’ dormitories.

You were laying on your sides facing each other, your leg thrown over Remus’ hips, head laying comfortably on his shoulder. His arm, that you were laying on, was curled protectively around your shoulders, big warm hand rubbing your back up and down soothingly.

You couldn’t help a small whimper that escaped your lips, but, thankfully, James was wailing so loudly about a new rare card that he got in chocolate frog that his booming voice successfully concealed all of your small sounds. Remus’ fingers kept sliding in and out of your drenched with slick pussy, thumb nudging swollen needy clit persistently, making you shake and writhe around in his arms.

- Now, pretty girl, I told you to be quiet. This time we got lucky, but we don’t want boys to hear what a little slutty thing you are, do we? - Remus murmured softly, his voice low so that only you can hear him. He pressed his lips against the heated skin of your forehead, leaving a chaste kiss there.

You only buried your face into the cozy crook of Remus’ shoulder, his comforting scent hit your nose - he smelled of fresh laundry, fluffy blankets and something sweet that you couldn’t quite decipher - he smelled like home. You wrapped your arms tighter around his neck, bringing yourself even closer to his hot body.

- Spread your legs a bit wider for me… yeah, just like that. Such a smart little thing, aren’t you? - Remus cooed against your ear as you readjusted your position a bit, sliding your leg higher up boy’s torso, increasing by that the gap between your thighs.

You smiled at his praise, leaving a few wet kisses on the side of his neck, nibbling gently on soft skin there but not enough to leave a mark, knowing how much boy disliked that. You could barely contain a moan as Remus increased the speed of his fingers fucking into you, new angle allowed him to reach even deeper inside. Your moth fell open in a silent moan, eyes shutting tightly and you heard Sirius’ roaring laughter and some repetitive hollow thudding, assuming that James and Peter must have started a vicious pillow fight.

Remus’ fingers curled a bit, massaging your frontal wall oh so deliciously, making you jolt harshly at pleasurable feeling.

- Easy, doll. I’ve got you, - Remus tutted into your hair, you could practically hear that well-known shit-eating grin in his voice.

The new positioning of his fingers allowed Remus to strokes you in all the right spots, you felt your orgasm nearing rapidly, heavy pleasure spilling in the bottom of your stomach. You leaned closer into your boyfriend, your hips moving ever so slightly in tandem with his fingers, trying to intensify the feeling.

- Remmy, ‘m really close, - you mewled weakly, words muffled because of your face squished against boy’s warm chest.

- I know, baby, just let it go. C’mon, cum on my fingers, make me proud, - Remus encouraged, his voice was dripping honey, which, doubled with his constant praise and nimble fingers fucking into you so good, sent you right over the edge.

Your eyes rolled back at the intense feeling of raw pleasure spreading through your body in crashing waves, white stars filled your vision. Your hands were grabbing desperately onto Remus’ soft sweater, teeth sank into your bottom lip, trying your hardest to suppress all of sweet moans and cries.

Remus rode out your orgasm, never stopping to fuck his long fingers into your sweet pussy, his other hand rubbing your back and shoulders, whispering sweet nothing into your flushed ear. He only stopped when you started wriggling your hips, trying to get away from his now painful caressing against your overstimulated sex.

He carefully pulled his fingers out, bringing them up to his face and burying his sticky with your slick digits in his warm mouth, sucking and lapping at your juices with immense pleasure. You flushed deeply, smacking Remus’ chest playfully and muttering quiet ‘pervert’ under your breath, causing boy to chuckle airily. He put his now clean fingers away from his mouth, leaning forward to slant his wet lips over yours, kissing you long and lazily, completely taking your breath away.

You broke off first, silver string of saliva was connecting your mouths, Remus eyes shining prettily in a dim light. Your shaky hand came to tuck a string of his soft sandy hair behind his pierced ear, thumb caressing chiseled cheekbone affectionately. Remus leaned in to place yet another kiss on your pretty lips but was stopped half-way by loud cracking sound and heavy cussing:

- Holy fucking shit, Prongs! McGonagall’s gonna fucking skin us alive for this! - Sirius’ panicked, but still more excited voice shrieked, you rushed to put your underwear and pajama pants back on before peeking your head out of crimson curtains, curious to see what had happened.

In the center of a room James, Sirius and Peter were all standing looking extremely disheveled and panting heavily, pillows clutched tightly in their hands. They all were staring at the floor where you spotted a huge hole a size of a quaffle, loud ‘what the fuck’ coming from the inhabitants of a room below. You heard Remus groan behind you, string of heavy expletives rolling off his tongue as he scrambled out of bed, racking his brain for possible ways to fix the breakage without teachers being involved.

James caught your eyes, shrugging silently, keeping unnaturally quiet, not wanting to get on Remus’ nerves when he was so angry. Sirius standing beside him could barely suppress his laughter, clutching his pillow to his chest in attempt to ground himself in any way possible. Peter’s face was completely blank, eyes wandering all around the dorm as if nothing ever happened, swaying from side to side lightly.

At the end of a day, they managed to fix the hole in the floor and all three of them got a smack on the back of the head from extremely querulous Remus.

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moonstruckme · 4 months

Text

A Christmas Special

summary: after Christmas Eve at Remus' flat, thick snowfall prevents you from going home. He's more than happy to host you

cw: mentions of alcohol, smut mdni, p in v, oral (fem receiving), praise, inexperienced reader, shy little idiots in love

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 11k words

Remus isn’t sure entirely how he’d gotten strongarmed into hosting Christmas Eve at his flat. James and Lily usually host, but James claimed that this year their house was in too much a state of “baby mayhem” to have any hope of being tidied enough for a gathering. He’s said it in such a lovesick voice Remus couldn’t push back for long, his friend’s happiness so potent it was like looking into the sun. Sirius had begged off quickly, saying that his “bachelor pad” was too small to have a group over. As usual, when Remus spoke last, the matter was settled before he’d gotten the chance to have much of a say.

He’s made an effort to live up to the hosting legacy passed onto him by the Potters, but it’s a flimsy attempt at best. Thankfully, the snowfall outside is doing a fair amount of the work for him. Remus’ street is coated in fresh, gleaming powder, enough that the trees look weighted down with it and his neighbor had put her little dog in a knit sweater to go into the yard and do its business. It’s still coming down, the snowflakes visible in crisp contrast against the darkening sky as they drift lazily to the earth.

Inside Remus’ home, the Christmas tree is nearly covered in tinsel to make up for his scant supply of ornaments, he’s run out of stockings to put up above the fireplace and has had to use one large sock (that one will have to be for Sirius), and he’s still stringing up popcorn when a knock sounds on the door.

Remus is surprised (he’d told everyone to come at six, but that was only because he didn’t think anyone would actually show up until a couple hours after), but that dies away when he unbolts the door and opens it to find you on the other side.

“Hi,” you say, teeth nearly chattering as Remus ushers you inside. “Sorry I’m late, traffic was worse than I expected.”

“It’s hardly fifteen after six.” Remus takes your coat, tsking. “People do seem to become worse drivers around the holidays, don’t they?”

“Well, I suppose not everyone on the road tonight might be used to driving in the snow,” you allow, ever forgiving.

Remus smiles. “Merry Christmas, love.”

Your face is already flushed from the chill outside, but he could swear it goes pinker as you unwrap your scarf, smiling back at him. “Merry Christmas.” You’re merry as can be, cheeks dimpling and eyes sparkling under the twinkling lights Remus is suddenly very glad he decided to purchase for the occasion. “Where is everyone?”

“Well,” Remus says, heading back for the couch, “Sirius is hitching a ride with James and Lily, so if I had to guess I’d wager that James is just putting the finishing touches whatever food he’s decided to bring while Lily tries to rush him out the door. And then they’ll go to Sirius’ place and have to wait for him to finish wrapping the presents he undoubtedly just remembered today.”

You sit beside him with a half-exasperated laugh. “I was thinking I’d be the last one here,” you admit, “but I’d forgotten how they can be when it comes to events.”

Remus shrugs. “Easy to forget.” Lily is usually able to marshal James and Sirius most places on time these days, but the frenzy when they actually have things to prepare is inevitable; Remus has learnt to account for it. He reclaims his half-finished string of popcorn, clumsily stabbing the needle into another kernel and wincing when it goes through easier than expected, pricking his finger.

“Oh no, did you hurt yourself?” you lean over, trying to see his hand.

“No, just a scratch.” Remus has about a billion of them by now. He’s far from coordinated on a good day, but the unwise decision to have coffee earlier has resulted in shaky hands that make working with a needle somewhat hazardous.

You watch him try again, and it’s really the distraction of your cute frown more than anything else that messes him up. His needle goes through the fluffy edge of the popcorn, stabbing him and giving the string hardly anything to hold onto in the process. The flake falls to his lap for his efforts.

“Remus, your hand’s not a pincushion,” you say, and you weren’t yourself he’d almost think you were chiding him. You reach over, taking the needle and thread from him. “Here, let me do that.”

“I didn’t mean for you to come here early so I could put you to work,” Remus protests, watching as you string up the next piece of popcorn with nimble fingers. Jealousy wars with admiration, but his esteem for you wins out. “You’ll never come back for New Year’s if this is what you have to look forward to.”

You smile down at your hands. “Sure I will. You’ll still be there, won’t you? And I really don’t mind helping, it gives me something to do.”

Remus smiles back even though you’re not looking. “Alright, well I guess that means I can start rolling out the gingerbread dough. Thanks, love.” He touches his hand lightly to the crown of your head as he stands, letting the urge to press a kiss there pass as quickly as it arises. He goes into the kitchen and a second later you decide to follow. Popcorn swishes against the floor behind you as you make your way over to the bar counter, sitting on a stool with the string trailing all the way back to the couch.

“You’re making gingerbread cookies?” you ask, watching with eager eyes as he plops the dough onto the floured counter, rolling it flat.

“Mhm. You like them?”

“Never had one.”

Remus feels his eyebrows inch upwards. “Seriously?”

You look almost sheepish, as though this is a crime which you expect to be held against you. Honestly, you’re not far off; had James been here, you would have been questioned and scolded to hell and back, and then he would’ve made Remus give you some dough to try, salmonella be damned.

“No,” you answer him. “We made ornaments of them in school, once, but we weren’t allowed to eat them. I always thought they were so cute, though, with the little people cutouts.”

“They’re the best,” Remus agrees, pressing out the shapes and laying them on the baking sheet. “If you finish that quickly enough, I might even let you help me cut out a few.”

“Yes!” you cheer, and he laughs as you start working quicker with the needle.

“Don’t hurt yourself. The privilege of cookie cutting is not actually contingent on your labor.”

“I know,” you say, but your hands don’t slow. Remus has barely finished filling his second baking sheet before you’re done, having made more progress in the last twenty minutes than he had over nearly an hour.

Remus’ hip touches yours as he shows you how to give the cookie cutters a little shake in the dough, freeing the shape before lifting it and placing it on the sheet. It’s not a painfully difficult task, and still he’s impressed by how quickly you catch on. You’re a machine of efficiency. You seem to enjoy rolling out the dough almost as much as pressing out the shapes, falling into a quick, happy rhythm. Before long you’ve pushed Remus out of the way (Lily would be proud, he thinks), urging him to go and hang up the popcorn garland before everyone else arrives.

You haven’t seen each other in over a month, both of you caught up in the hustle and bustle of the season, and you catch up as you work on your separate tasks. Remus talks to you about his job, the students who plague him and the ones he wishes he could take home after work each day, and how none of them had liked the film he’d put on the day before break. (“Mister Magoo’s is a classic!” you protest as Remus shakes his head. “They’re too young to get it,” he says. “Our classics are just old to them.”) You tell him about your new cat, and the sweater you’d crocheted her for the holiday which she despises above all else, and he promises to come over sometime soon to meet her.

You’ve poured yourselves spiked eggnog and sampled a few ginger cookies (“They’re twice as good when they’re fresh,” Remus says. “Don’t let the others’ tardiness rob you of the experience.”) by the time the door bursts open again, Sirius of course not bothering to knock.

“Hello!” he calls from somewhere behind a tower of presents. “Merry holiday to you, Moony!”

You get up to help, and so Remus is compelled to do so as well, taking a couple sloppily-wrapped boxes from Sirius’ arms.

“Merlin, it smells good in here,” James declares as he comes through the door, Lily carrying a beaming baby Harry on her hip behind him. James’ eyes fall on you. “Aw, you beat us here?”

Remus scoffs, setting down the gifts by the tree and leaving you to arrange them as you see fit. “Not a very difficult task, when you’re over an hour late,” he says. “You’re lucky Y/N’s good company, or I’d be more cross with you.”

“Sorry,” Lily says as Sirius makes a dismissive sound, flopping onto the couch. “We had some trouble fitting everything in the car with Harry’s seat, and then Sirius—” she shoots him a glare, and he grins like she’s sweetly cooed his name “—wouldn’t leave without his hat, even though he’d lost it.”

“One only gets to wear one’s elf hat every so often,” Sirius justifies, unperturbed. “I wasn’t going to miss the occasion even if it took me all night to find it.”

“It nearly did,” Lily shoots back, but then James is at her side, having discarded his load of food and presents and now vying to hold Harry.

“Come here, my handsome little guy.”

“Used to call me that,” Sirius quips with his mouth full of gingerbread cookies, a heaping plate seeming to have found its way into his lap.

Remus isn’t going to smile at that poor attempt at a joke, but once you laugh he can’t help it.

“Only on special occasions,” James replies, taking Harry under the arms and hoisting him into the air. Harry laughs, and it’s probably the most contagious thing Remus has ever heard. Everyone smiles; James most of all, grinning ear to ear as he does it again.

“He never lets me hold him,” Lily complains fondly.

“Because I know how much you like seeing me with him,” James says breezily, making a face at Harry above him. “You’re mad with lust right now, Evans, don’t try to deny it.”

“Sleaze,” Sirius says to him, the bell on his hat jingling when he tilts his head.

“I know you are, but what am I?”

“I,” Remus says, “am hungry. And I’ll bet Y/N is too, since she’s very politely refrained from snacking much while we waited for you lot.”

James' attention actually leaves his son for half a second to look at you and see if what Remus says is true, and you go instantly bashful. It doesn’t seem to matter how long you’re friends with them; having attention drawn to you will always bring some color to your cheeks. Lily comes to your rescue, ushering you into the kitchen like she needs somewhere to channel her mother hen urges while James is monopolizing Harry.

“I hope you really are hungry,” she says, “because James has made enough bhaji to feed us all for a month.”

❆ ❆ ❆

Soon even James is stuffed and you’re all a bit tipsy on eggnog. Some of your natural anxiety fades as everything starts to feel slower and more fluid, your insides warm and soft as wax.

“No, because it was so obvious,” Sirius says. He’s telling a story of a girl he’d seen at a coffee shop that he’s sure was enamored with him. James, naturally, agrees completely, but Lily and Remus aren’t so sure. “She did the—the thing. Y/N, back me up. When a girl makes eye contact with you and then looks off to the side, it means she’s not interested, but when she looks down, it’s because she’s nervous, right?”

You raise your eyebrows. “I think you made that up,” you tell him, tiny bits of laughter running in between your words. “Anyway, is her being nervous necessarily a good thing?”

“She was nervous because she’s obsessed with me,” Sirius insists.

“Or,” Remus says, “she was nervous because you were staring at her, and she thought you were going to follow her outside.”

“And probably kill her,” Lily agrees.

James’ eyebrows shoot up. “Merlin, you two are dark. Our Padfoot’s not putting out murderous vibes. He’s got too much boyish charm.”

Sirius nods appreciatively, but Lily only shrugs, careful not to jostle Harry where he’s sleeping on her lap. “Girls have to think of those things.”

“Gross,” James says, looking slightly troubled as he kisses the side of his wife’s head. “Well, I think she was in love with you, Pads.”

“Yeah,” Remus rolls his eyes, “he should show up at her house and find out. It’d be romantic.”

“And on that note,” James goes on, ignoring him, “shall we do presents?”

You all agree, and Sirius looks at James with an older brother’s entitlement. “Go ahead and distribute them, Prongsie.”

James, well used to this, doesn’t even question it, scampering back and forth between the tree (which you can’t help but notice is somewhat lacking in the ornament department but quite sparkly) to deliver your presents at your feet. After a few rounds of this, you can’t stand it anymore and get up to help, laughing through the protests of your remaining three friends. (“He’s got it, love,” Remus says, and Sirius adds, “He’s got energy he needs to run off anyway.”) Between the two of you, the bottom of the Christmas tree is bare within a couple of minutes, small piles of presents next to each of your friends. You go to sit back by the pile meant for you, touched at the fact that you have a box from every person there.

“S’not fair that James and Lily get to do couple’s presents now,” Sirius complains. “I’m going to start buying gifts for you like you’re one person, see how you like it.”

The biggest pile is obviously for Harry, and you all start there, no small amount of eagerness in James’ expression as he tears open the first box. “The Velveteen Rabbit,” he reads aloud. “Wow, this is kinda hefty for a children’s book.”

“Who’s it from?” Lily prompts, as if you don’t all already know.

“Shit, I forgot to check.”

“And that’s why we read the box,” Lily says slowly, and you get the sense this is a conversation that’s happened more than once, “before we start ripping, honey.”

“It was me,” Remus volunteers, lips pulling into a half-smile.

“Course it was,” James says, taking a break from sticking his tongue out at his wife to smile at Remus. “Thanks, Moony.”

“You had the opportunity to get him Goodnight Moon,” Sirius tsks, “and you just let it pass you by.”

Remus rolls his eyes, but then Lily says, “He already has that one,” and you watch as he tries and fails to suppress the shy smile that takes him. It shifts the scars on his cheek and lights his eyes with a warm tenderness.

He looks especially pretty under the Christmas lights, you think. The warm glow suits him, bringing out the amber in his eyes and richening the various brown shades of his hair. It makes his skin look softer too, smooth even where you know he has stubble around his jawline. You want suddenly to reach out and touch it, and you’re glad you’re sitting too far from him to act on the urge.

You’ve noticed Remus over the years, of course. It’d be impossible not to. You’ve always harbored a tiny crush on him, but you keep it shoved deep down in your gut where it can’t hurt anyone. You think the world of him, but you love your little group of friends more than anything else. You’re not unaware of the fact that Remus is a more crucial fixture in it than you are; if anything happened between you and it made things awkward for everyone, you’d be the one to go.

“Aw, is this a hat?” Lily pulls something tawny brown from a box, and you realize they’ve gotten to your gift. “Oh my god, it has little antlers!”

You try not to smile too hard as she shows it to James and he coos, taking it from her hands. “No way, he’ll be like our little Prongsie! I’m going to put it on him.”

“Don’t wake him,” Lily warns, but James waves her off.

“He can sleep through anything,” he says, settling the baby beanie on Harry’s head. Sure enough, he doesn’t stir.

“Oh, that’s so darling.” Lily presses a hand to her chest. “Y/N, where’d you get this?”

You feel your face heat and hope the lighting is covering your blush. “I made it,” you admit. “I know we’re already well into winter, but I hope he can still use it a little.”

“Um, he’s never taking it off. Like, ever.” James leans around Lily to press a smacking kiss to your cheek. You laugh, trying not to shrink in on yourself from all the attention. “Thanks, love.”

Once all the cooing over Harry��s presents is done, the rest of the gift opening proceeds with decidedly less fanfare, though no shortage of gratitude. You get a bunch of purple eyeliners from Sirius (you’d complained to him a few weeks ago that they’d stopped selling your old one, and he’d been thoughtful enough to find you options to help decide upon new one), a cookbook from James and Lily (“Now you can stop eating all those frozen meals,” James tells you with a meaningful look), and a set of mittens from Remus (“They’re alpaca,” he explains. “Supposed to be extra warm, and your hands are always freezing.”). The rest of your gifts are received happily too, and then Remus’ living room is covered with the wrapping paper Lily had tried but eventually given up on getting everyone to put in piles as they went and you’re all starting to yawn.

“Alright,” Lily says after a while, “it’s well past Harry’s bedtime, and ours, and I’m sure Remus would like his flat back.”

“Booo.” Sirius lays back on the couch, letting his head loll over the edge of the armrest. “Domestic life has made you lame, Evans-Potter.”

“Yeah, yeah,” James drawls, gathering Harry against his chest, “I saw you yawning, Pads. Let’s go.”

You stand with the rest of them, going to find your shoes by the door. “Thanks for everything, Remus,” you say. “It was great.”

“For a first time hosting,” James allows, jokingly prideful, “I suppose you did a pretty decent job. Big shoes to fill, and all that.”

Remus smiles as he rolls his eyes, but it falters when his gaze settles on something behind you. “Are you all going to be alright getting home? It looks like it’s really picked up.”

You follow his stare out the window. He’s not wrong. The unusually thick snowfall you’d arrived in has morphed into something that looks more like a blizzard, the wind whipping white across the black backdrop of sky outside Remus’ flat.

James looks between the scene outside and his family once before seeming to make a decision. “Yeah, we’ll be alright,” he says, watching Lily as he talks. She nods her approval, and James’ voice becomes more solid. “We don’t have far to drive.”

Remus nods, still looking worried. His brows furrow as he turns to you. “What about you? Are you gonna be okay?”

“Yeah.” It’s the only answer in these situations, though you’re sure Remus would be alright with the alternative if you felt very strongly. “It doesn’t look too bad out there.”

Remus casts another dubious glance out the window, and a particularly loud gust of wind whooshes past as if to spite you. “Are you sure? It looks pretty bad to me.”

“Yeah,” James says, “don’t you live a bit far?”

“It’s not that far,” you fib, at the same time as Remus says, “She does.”

You laugh awkwardly, pulling on your coat “It’s not. Anyway, I’ve driven in a lot worse than this.”

Lily gives you a small smile. “That’s hardly reassuring, babe.”

“You can stay here,” Remus offers, but you’re shaking your head before he’s even gotten the words out.

“That’s sweet of you, but I can make it home.” You give him your most competent smile. “If I end up driving off the road and have to camp in my car, at least I’ll have fantastic mittens to keep the frostbite from my hands.”

He gives you a deadpan look. “While I’m glad you’re excited to use my gift, I’d prefer to keep it from coming to that.”

“You can’t get in a crash and die on Christmas,” Sirius says. “It’d be, like, a super huge downer for us every year.”

“I’ll be fine,” you insist.

“Shortcake, I don’t care if we have to lock you in here,” James says, frowning in a way that doesn’t look particularly tough when he’s swaying back and forth to rock Harry on his chest. “There’s no way you can drive all the way to your place in this.”

You roll your eyes good-naturedly, wrapping your scarf.

“Okay, you know I would never usually say this,” Lily says, gnawing on her lip as she watches the snow blow past outside, “but I think you should listen to the boys. It looks too scary out there to drive that far.”

“It’s…” You look between them, your argument dying of futility on your tongue. James seems prepared to blockade you in Remus’ flat, and even Lily’s giving you a stern look. Your gaze lands on Remus, and the last of your resistance melts away.

“You really should stay here,” he says kindly. “Actually, I’d feel a lot better if you did. Okay?”

You sigh, slipping your scarf back over your head. “Okay.”

“Phew!” Sirius says, pulling you into a one-armed hug. “Glad that’s settled. See you all soon, thanks for Christmas Moony!”

“He’s so tired,” Lily says after Sirius is out the door.

“Wiped,” James agrees, adjusting his grip on Harry so that he can wrap one arm around Remus’ neck. Remus leans down into the awkward hug, begrudgingly fond as he pats his friend on the back, then kisses Lily on the cheek when James moves to you.

“Thanks for the gifts,” James says, grinning down at Harry’s knit antlers after he releases you. “He’s never taking this off.”

“He means it.” Lily sends her husband a look as fond as it is weary as she hugs you. “I’ll probably have to bathe Harry when James is asleep so he doesn’t catch him without it.”

Your face is feeling hot again. “I’m glad you like it,” you say with a little shrug, but your friends are used to your shyness and only smile and wave on their way out.

And then the door shuts, and you and Remus are left alone in the quiet.

“Are you tired?” he asks you, moving back into the living room. Lily had sneakily taken care of a good deal of the cleanup, but there’s still a few half-empty glasses of eggnog strewn about which Remus begins gathering.

“Not really,” you answer honestly, beating him to the sink and forcing him to hand you the glasses to wash. “Are you?”

“No,” he agrees, and the look he shoots you has to be the gentlest form malice has ever taken as he takes up the dish towel and stations himself beside you. “Fancy a film?”

“Mmm, a Christmas film?”

“Obviously.”

The dishes are finished quickly thanks to Lily’s interference, and Remus makes you some hot cocoa while you scroll through movies, calling out possibilities. The only conflict between you is your equal complaisance to whatever the other prefers, and you eventually settle on the first one you’d seen just to put an end to it. You take your cocoa gladly when Remus passes it to you, blowing gently while he settles a blanket over the both of you, your knees curled towards him and his one leg crossed over the other angling him towards you.

The first few minutes of the film are spent in that contented quietude that the two of you so often fall into when you’re alone together, but then Remus asks you, “What is it?”

You look over at him. “Hm?”

“You’re frowning.”

“Oh.” You laugh. “I’m just thinking about snow.”

His lips quirk. “It is kind of the bane of your existence tonight, isn’t it?”

“No.” You smile down at your hands, hoping it's not obvious how not unpleasant you find your circumstances at the moment. “That’s not it. I was thinking, I kind of hate how it always has to snow in these movies. It makes any Christmas where it doesn’t snow feel like it’s not up to par. Or not quintessential enough, or something.”

“Mmm, I see.” Remus looks back to the screen, considering. “Does that make this your quintessential Christmas, then? Are we living up to the movie standard?”

You watch him while he watches the TV, blue light cast over his handsome features. “I guess so,” you say.

The longer you sit there, the closer you get. You blame it on the late hour, your bodies relaxing towards each other on the couch. Remus’ arm brushes yours when he lifts his mug for a sip, and your knees dig into his thigh under the blanket. Soon you’ve drooped enough that you’re leaning nearly entirely against him. You don’t notice until Remus puts an arm around you to encourage your head to his shoulder. You tense but don’t sit up, and eventually his head comes to rest atop yours.

“Are you crying?” he murmurs during one scene near the end.

Your reply is equally soft, not wanting to jostle either Remus’ head or his shoulder with your speech movements. “I really like this part.”

“You know how it ends. It’s going to be okay.”

“I know.” You sniffle, bringing a hand up to wipe your face now that you’ve been caught. “I know it is. It’s just really profound.”

“Sure it is.”

“It’s the spirit of Christmas, Remus. Goodwill to man.”

“Okay.” He rubs your shoulder, and you pretend not to feel his shaking with quiet laughter. “Okay, I agree with you.”

And awhile later: “You’re tired,” he accuses.

You hum a denial.

“Sweetheart” —your stomach flutters, and there’s a jolt somewhere behind your ribcage; you ignore it— “you’re practically falling asleep right here.”

“Are you tired?”

He shifts slightly, stubble tickling your forehead. “No. But you are.”

“I want to finish the movie.”

He seems to debate this for a moment, then his shoulder relaxes beneath you. “Alright.”

The credits start, and neither of you move.

You let your head slump more heavily onto his shoulder. “Your place really does look lovely. Thanks for having me.”

“Of course, love.” You can feel his smile squish up against the top of your head. “Would you go so far as to say my hosting measures up to James’?”

You chuckle, gesturing to yourself. “I’d say you’ve gone above and beyond, for sure.”

Remus laughs too. “Perfect. Tell him so, would you?”

You’re going to agree when a great yawn takes you. You keep it quiet, but there’s no avoiding the way your chin digs into Remus’ shoulder, your shoulders rising with the prolonged inhale. He moves away from you.

“Ready for bed?” He smiles down at you as you run a knuckle under your eyes, collecting tears from your lashes.

You shrug an admittance. “Sort of. But I don’t want to kick you out of your own living room if you’re not tired yet.”

“No, I’m pretty wiped too,” he says. “Anyway, I’m the one kicking you out. You’re staying in my room.”

You had a feeling he would say something like that. You grab a throw pillow, getting situated with your head near the armrest. “No, I’m not.”

His laugh is disbelieving. “Yeah, you are. Come on, you’re my guest. I’m not letting you sleep on the couch.”

You tug the blanket off his lap, curling up with your pillow stubbornly. “I’m not going to steal your bed. You’ve already done so much. You’ve helped me try gingerbread cookies and given me nice mittens and hosted an amazing Christmas. Let me sleep on your couch, please.”

“While I appreciate all that,” he says, “no.”

“Remus.” You’re near pleading at this point. “Your back will hurt.”

“Your back will hurt.”

“Not as badly as yours.” You give him a hard look. “I’m not taking your bed.”

There’s a brief silence, terser than your usual ones but no more awkward for it. You stare each other down.

“Right,” Remus says, reclaiming the remote from where he’d set it on the coffee table. “I suppose we’d better start another movie, then.”

“Remus, come on.” You sit up, giving his shoulder a gentle nudge. “You’ve just said you’re tired. Go to bed, please.”

The TV flickers back on. “I’m not leaving this couch.”

“Well, neither am I,” you laugh, completely serious.

He rolls his eyes, then snuggles up to you under the blanket. You take this as a sign that he’s not really very cross with you. “You’re much more argumentative than usual tonight, you know that?”

You huff, laying your head back on his shoulder. “I could say the same about you.”

“True, but I know I’ll win out in the end.”

“You can think that if you like.”

“Want to watch this one next?”

“Sure.”

❆ ❆ ❆

Remus watches as your eyes drift closed, then twitch back open, over and over again. He thinks his bony shoulder is the only thing keeping you from falling over the precipice of sleep. If he were James Potter, he’d simply pick you up with ease and carry you to his bed, but Remus can’t say he’s entirely sorry for this extra time with you, even if neither of you are awake enough to make much conversation.

Silly as it sounds, he enjoys just sitting here with you nearly as much as talking. Your cheek squished into his shoulder, your legs curled up atop his, you’re warm and weighty against him.

He should have known it would be a hopeless endeavor trying to get you to agree to take the bed. You’re a gentle thing by nature, but stubborn in your selflessness. Even if you had gone, Remus knows he wouldn’t have slept all night anyway, too preoccupied with thoughts of you all wrapped up in his sheets, your face pressed to his pillow, getting your shampoo-smell on the pillowcase. He doesn’t know if it smells like him (does he have a smell?), but he would have wondered all night if it does, if you were noticing.

Your head nearly rolls off his shoulder, and a pitying sound escapes Remus when you jerk awake to set it right. He lets his head rest on yours so it doesn’t happen again. Your eyelids droop closed almost immediately, and Remus begins dragging his thumb over your shoulder blade, a nice, slow back-and-forth. You’re quiet for a long while.

“Are you trying to put me to sleep?” you murmur, words all sloshed together.

It’s a conscious effort not to let his thumb slow. “No,” he says.

You hum.

“Unless you mean it’s working.”

Another long silence. “It’s not,” you reply, head growing heavier on his shoulder.

He chuckles. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s get you to bed, hm?”

“You go to bed,” you mumble, and if he thought you were capable of it he’d say there was some bitterness lining your words.

He sighs. “You’re too nice for your own good,” he tells you.

“No,” you reply, softly, plainly, like it’s a fact, “that’s you.”

He picks his head up off of yours to see your face. “Yeah?”

“Mhm.” Your eyes are closed. You don’t know he’s looking. Your face is wholly relaxed, no hint of pretense about you. “You’re the best I know.”

Something warm and wheedling works its way through Remus’ ribs to the soft gooey core of him. “Well,” he tells you honestly, “you’re the best I know.”

You seem unconcerned. “Another impasse for us.”

He actually laughs at that, instantly guilty when it jostles you on his shoulder and your eyelids peel apart. He can’t regret it, though, when you look at him the way you do. You’re glowing in the light coming off the tree, soft and warm and lovely, and yet you’re looking at him like he’s the only place your eyes want to go. Like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

You come gradually more awake, eyebrows twitching towards each other just slightly. “Remus,” you murmur, and he finally does what he’s been wanting to since you’d shown up at his door hours ago. He kisses you.

Your lips are pliable, parting for his almost instantly, like you’d been waiting. His hand coasts from your shoulder to cup the back of your head, keeping you close as your nose slides against his. You both all but fall back onto the bed you’d made yourself on the couch. He’s careful not to put too much of his weight on you, but when his tongue brushes across the inside of your lip and you inhale, he draws back.

“I...” He pants into the space between you. “Sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t—”

You make a sound that’s half hum, half whine, and bump your chin up into his.

Remus loses himself again with frightening quickness. It’s even better now that you seem more sure, your mouth asking, coaxing against his. You taste like gingerbread. An low, embarrassing sound pries free from the back of his throat when you wind your fingers into the hair at his nape, and he slips his free hand beneath your back, getting as close to you as he can. Your legs make room for him automatically, knees tipping open so he can slot between them.

“Do you—” you breathe when his attentions move downward, tilting your head to the side to offer access as he mouths at the skin just under your jaw. “Do you want this?”

The word leaves him in a soft exhale, muffled against your skin. “Yes.”

You swallow. He feels the movement in your throat. “Are you sure?”

His eyelashes brush your jaw as his kisses slow, become more tender, more intentional. “Lovely girl,” he murmurs. “You’re silly, you know that?” His mouth meanders it’s way over to your pulse, getting stuck there and sucking at your skin lazily. “I mean, you’re smart.” The words are all mushed up against you. Noticeably amused. Remus quit the eggnog hours ago, yet he feels half drunk. “You’re really smart, honey, but you can be so oblivious sometimes.”

You don’t respond, and as much as he loves the sound of your voice, he’s hoping your silence is in his favor right now. He wants you wrapped up in him, wants to engross you so completely you forget how to form your lips around speech.

“Do you want to move to my room?”

You take a breath. Fuck, even the sound of you breathing is nearly enough to undo him. He moves back to your mouth as if to intercept it, nipping at your lower lip.

“Is this a ploy to get me off the couch?”

“You’re relentless.”

Your lips curve against his, and he mirrors them without thinking. You stay quiet.

“Fine. I promise it’s not, okay?”

Your laugh is fizzy like champagne, and it warms Remus’ chest like it too. “Okay,” you say in that lovely voice. “Okay, let’s go.”

❆ ❆ ❆

You’d always thought Remus was all softness. He’s made up of soft looks, soft colors, and hair that you can now confirm is soft as dandelion fluff. But this night has defied your expectations in a thousand ways. And your Remus, soft, gentle, kindhearted Remus, is scraping at your throat with his teeth.

You have to suck your lip between your teeth to keep from making a humiliatingly desperate sound when he passes his tongue over his work, another crescent moon that’s sure to be purple by morning. Your hands are beseeching in his dandelion fluff hair, keeping him close while his hands are busy lower, one gripping the fat of your hip while the other drags tantalizingly slow up and down your side. He’s kissing you like you have all the time in the world, sometimes rough but no more urgent for it, and you’re breathy and molten and useless beneath him.

You’re brimming with adoration and something else too. Something that you think you could almost identify—you’ve felt it before, but never like this.

“What do you want to do?” There’s a raspy quality to his voice that would send you to your knees if he hadn’t already taken them out from under you. He dots leisurely, open-mouthed kisses up the column of your throat, soothing over spots he’s already nipped and sucked into oblivion. Your head feels fuzzy. “Sweetheart?”

Christ, is he trying to send you into cardiac arrest? Remus doesn’t stop kissing you even at your silence, finding your lip still held between your teeth and encouraging it free with his own. You try to remember what he’d ask you. What do you want to do? You have no idea. Where would you even start? You want him to keep talking to you in that raspy voice, that’s for sure. You want…you want to keep kissing him, to know what his hands would do if you let them beneath your clothes. You want to keep investigating that warm feeling in your gut. See where it takes you.

Remus’ kisses slow, then stop. He pulls back to look at you. In the dim street light coming in through the window, you wonder what he sees. “You alright?” His voice is soft, gentle, saying it’s okay if you’re not without saying it.

You take a breath. It shakes a little on the way out, but you don’t think he can tell. “Yeah, I’m good. Just nervous. But not in a bad way.” Nervous-happy.

“Don’t be,” he implores, lips brushing your cheek. “It’s only me.”

Exactly, you think. It’s you.

“What do you want to do?” You turn his own question back on him.

His smile is tinged with bashfulness. “I mean, whatever you’re alright with.” There’s a tentative quietness to his voice. “Have you…”

If it were possible for you to get any warmer, embarrassment would do it. “No,” you say, shrinking away from him though there’s nowhere to go. Whatever the end to that question might be, the answer is no.

“That’s okay,” he says quickly, dropping another kiss on the corner of your mouth like a cure-all remedy. “That’s okay, you just tell me if you want to stop, yeah? If you don’t like something, or you want to slow down—anything at all, you let me know.” He kisses you again, further up on your burning cheek. “Okay?”

You swallow. “Okay.”

“Don’t be nervous.” He says it like a promise, hand stroking your side again as if to soothe you. His lips find your shoulder, nosing the fabric of your sleeve. “Can I take this off, lovely?”

You nod, words all stoppered up in your throat, then realize he can’t see you and do it yourself. He has to pause as it comes off, taking the opportunity to do away with his own sweater, tossing it on the floor beside the bed. You do the same, and your bra quickly follows. You’d always thought (largely influenced, admittedly, by trashy novels) that this was the part where the guy stops what he’s doing and openly oggles the shirtless woman in front of him, but Remus has seen tits before and wastes no time in getting his mouth back on yours, pressing you into the mattress. His skin is as heated as yours, the areas where you touch deliciously warm despite the cold still whipping past his bedroom window. You allow yourself one sweeping, appreciative pass over the muscles on Remus’ back before your hands go down to your bottoms, shimmying them down your legs. A long-fingered hand finds the exposed skin of your thigh and kneads reverently. You swallow Remus’ groan, and he kisses you more deeply, long, savoring passes of his tongue along the inside of your mouth until his lips move downward.

One hand stays at your hip while the other strokes up and down your thigh, spit cooling in a path down your stomach. You try to relax as he passes your navel, but the anticipation is hard to shake. You’re nearly trembling when he kneels between your legs, kissing the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.

“Is this okay?” he murmurs.

It’s all you can do to nod, gasping when his teeth drag over one of the stretch marks there. You clutch at the sheets above your head like a lifeline.

“We can stop anytime you want.”

You inhale raggedly. “No,” you manage. Your breathlessness is obvious in the quiet room. “I want—I want to keep going.” You pause. “Do you?”

You can hear the smile in his voice. “Yeah, love, that sounds good to me.”

Good, you’re about to say, but Remus’ next kiss lands on your slit, and your voice withers and dies in your throat. He uses a hand to push one of your legs open further while bringing the other over his shoulder, spreading you open. His breath fans hot over your cunt.

You’re writhing at the first broad stroke of his tongue, and he wraps his fingers around the outside of your thigh, keeping you still while placating you at the same time.

Remus takes his time, lapping experimentally at your entrance before making his way upwards. You gasp as his tongue skims over your clit, burrowing your hand in his hair before hesitating.

“Is this okay?” you ask.

His hummed assent has you tightening your grasp. He brushes over your clit one more time, and when this gets a similar reaction from you, begins sucking on it gently. You’re panting, and Remus has to move his grip to your hip to hold you in place, squeezing indulgently at the fat there while he narrows in on what you like. Before long you’re trembling all over, grasping feebly at his hair as you squeeze your eyes shut against the odd sort of bliss that’s taking you under.

“Remus,” you breathe, and it’s a miracle that he hears you but he does, raising his head with a lewd suctioning sound.

He looks at you questioningly with eyes almost all pupil.

“Come here,” you plead.

He obeys, crawling back up you to peck at your bitten lips. “Doing alright?” he asks you.

“Yeah,” you promise, cupping his head in one hand and wrapping your leg over the back of his as if to prevent him from leaving. “Just wanted to kiss you.”

You feel him smile against your lips. He slots his mouth over yours, and you dedicate yourself to his top lip. He tastes like sex, braver now as he explores your mouth. He drags your bottom lip between his teeth, and you make a high, breathy sound. His grip on you tightens.

“Do you think—can we—”

He hesitates, kissing softly at the corner of your lips. “Are you sure?”

“I want to. Do you?”

Remus actually laughs, muffling the sound against your cheek. “Yeah, I fucking want to. I’ve wanted to forever.”

You can’t think about that. Think about that and you’ll fall to pieces.

He noses affectionately at the underside of your jaw, slipping down you once again to stand at the end of the bed. He steps out of his pants and grabs a condom from the drawer of his nightstand. “You’ll tell me if I do anything you don’t like, yeah?”

“Mhm,” you promise, anticipation coiling up snugly with that other thing in your stomach. They don’t feel all that distinct from one another.

“Alright,” he says, palm slipping under your thigh. “Can I lift this up, love?”

You nod, and he grasps the soft underside of your knee, bringing your leg up to your stomach as he lines up. You gasp as he pushes in slowly, watching your face to make sure you’re doing okay. You’re already slick and worked open from his ministrations, and it’s still a bit shocking. His thumb strokes beside your knee as your walls adjust to the size of him. “How’s that feel?”

“Good,” you say honestly. There’s a note of desperation to your voice. “I can—more, please.”

He’s quick to accommodate you, pushing deeper as he folds himself over you to recapture your lips. Your breaths shallow. His free hand moves to your breast, kneading gently at the soft flesh. He gives it a firm squeeze at the same time as he moves inside you, and you nearly bite Remus’ lip off, a half-suppressed keening sound escaping you.

“So good,” he mumbles. “You’re doing so good, sweetheart. Taking it so well.” He lifts his head, kissing your temple. “Think you can handle a bit more?”

Your response is barely more than breath, but he catches the affirmation, pressing another firm kiss to your forehead before he bottoms out inside you. Your head lolls back, fuzzy with the strange pain and even stranger pleasure. Remus tightens his grip on your leg to keep it up, dotting kisses down the side of your face.

“Good girl,” he says hoarsely. “Still doing okay, lovely?”

“Yeah,” you say, somewhat dizzy. “Remus, it feels so good.”

“Good,” he croons. “It should feel good, love. Ready for me to move?”

“Mhm.”

He pulls out slowly, dragging against your sensitive walls. He starts mouthing at your neck again before he pushes back inside you, filling you up all over again. A slew of expletives roll out of your mouth, unbidden and entirely unlike you, as Remus begins pumping your breast again, the rhythm matching that of his thrusts. He sucks the flesh of your neck between his teeth, and you bite down hard on your lower lip to repress what promises to be a high-pitched and deeply mortifying sound.

Remus praises you amply, soft kisses and reverent touches and a raspy “Fuck, sweetheart, just like that.” Your head floats or swims or both, your body tensed all over and yet completely plaint beneath Remus’ hands. He moves back to your mouth, discovering your bottom lip held captive between your teeth.

“Come on, don’t do that,” he chides, easing it free with gentle kisses. “Let me hear you, bet you sound so pretty.”

The Welsh accent that’s grown faint after years of living away from home is emerging now, as is the crude vocabulary it's tied to in memory, a host of barely comprehensible profanities spewing from Remus’ lips when you clench on him again. His grip tightens on your tit, and a moan tears from the back of your throat.

“That’s it,” he praises, head dipping to kiss the soft spot he’s found under your ear. “There you are, lovely girl.”

The coil in your core grows impossibly tighter, your thighs quivering as you approach a peak you’ve never known before. Remus feels it, cooing softly even as he drives into you harder.

“You gonna cum, sweetheart?” You nod dazedly. “Good, good, just let it happen, I’ve got you.”

“Come here,” you demand again, and he wastes no time in obliging you. He kisses your lips sore as you dig your nails into his shoulders, pulling his body flush against yours, the feeling inside you growing so great you don’t know where to put it, don’t know if you can contain it. You can’t remember ever feeling this close to someone, Remus’ touch the only thing keeping you from hurtling off some unknown precipice.

“Let go,” he urges, and you do. You trust him to catch you.

It’s bliss like you’ve never known. You cry out, and Remus’ hand slides down from your breast to spread wide and flat against your ribs. Steadying. He kisses soothingly at your jaw as you gasp and pant your way back to him, grip slackening on his shoulders.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, though you really haven’t done much at all.

“Are you—” You swallow, choking on the emotion that’s risen unbidden in your throat. “Are you close?”

Remus smiles, coming back to your lips like he can’t help himself. He pecks you once, twice. “Sweetheart, I’m more than close. I’ve barely been holding myself together since you kissed me.”

Well, he’d actually kissed you, but you’ll take the compliment anyway.

“Do you think you’ll be alright if I move again?” he asks. “It’s okay if not.”

“You can,” you say certainly, leaning up on your elbows to see him better. “Is there…anything I can do to help?”

The smile fades from his face, leaving something far more tender in its wake. “Just, keep looking at me like that?” He says it almost like he’s embarrassed, voice quiet with supplication.

You want to tell him you’d never needed asking to look at him, but you don’t, keeping your eyes on his obediently as he pumps into you. He really must have been close, because he’s cursing again not long after, accent twisting his syllables with a gruff pleasure. Your walls contract at the movement, still sensitive, and that’s all it takes. Remus digs his fingers into your waist and makes sounds you’re sure you’ll dream about, panting, breathy moans you sit up to smother against your lips. He follows you back down onto the mattress, mouth slotted against your own. You hold him to you until his breaths even and his grip on you loosens.

“Was that alright?” he asks, some of the rasp still lingering in his voice.

You can’t help the laugh that escapes you, dizzy with affection. “Yeah, it was good,” you promise him. Understatement of the year. “Really good, Rem.”

“Good,” he echoes, lips brushing the skin under your eye. You don’t know how you know, but you can feel the amusement building in him just before he asks, “Tired yet?”

You guffaw. The force of it jostles him on top of you, and his lips curve against your cheek. “A little bit, yeah.” Actually, you hadn’t realized how exhausting sex would be. If it didn’t mean having to take your eyes off Remus, you’d have closed them and passed out by now.

“Good,” he says again, hands sliding down your waist as he moves to stand again. You make a small sound as he shifts, and Remus shushes you, slipping out from inside you. You watch fascinatedly as he removes the condom, sticky with cum. He tosses it in the wastebasket under his desk and walks away from you.

“Hey,” you protest. “You’d better not be sneaking off to sleep on the couch.”

His chuckle echoes in the bathroom, followed by the sound of a cabinet opening. “So mistrustful,” he says when he comes back in with a damp towel. “What’ve I done to arouse such suspicion?”

Your fuzzy brain gets stuck on the word arouse in his teasing tone, and it takes you a second to answer. “Well, I’m here and a blink away from falling asleep, so you tell me.”

“Fair enough.” He rolls his eyes good-naturedly, taking your thigh in his grasp to move it aside. “Alright if I clean you up, love?”

You startle, coming up on your elbows to see where Remus is holding the towel between your legs. “I didn’t realize it’d be so messy,” you admit. “You don’t have to, though, I can do it myself.”

“I don’t mind,” he says, thumb soothing over your knee. “S’my mess anyway.” He seems to have not quite agreed with himself to say that last part aloud, a blush spreading over his cheeks.

“Sure,” you say, mostly to alleviate his embarrassment. You let your weight lean more heavily on your elbows, trying your best to look relaxed. “Sure, if you’re alright with it.”

“Might be a bit sensitive,” he warns. You’d guessed as much, but it's worth it for all the praises he rains down upon you as he works, finishing with a kiss to the side of your knee.

You miss him humiliatingly when he goes to the bathroom again to discard the towel. It’s all you can do not to reach for him when he comes back, but luckily Remus reads your mind anyway, slipping under the covers and tugging you to him until his lips rest against your forehead.

“That was really great,” you tell him.

“I thought so too.”

“You’ll stay here, right?”

A low laugh. “Yeah, sweetheart. I’m staying here.”

❆ ❆ ❆

Remus hasn’t known anyone to sleep in longer than Sirius, but you seem to be vying for his title. The sun has long since passed above his windows when Remus wakes, and still he has time to spend idle hours marveling at the closeness of you. His nose is cold above the covers, but everywhere your bodies are pressed together is warm, your palm flat against his chest and one of your legs wormed between his own. Your fingers twitch as you dream.

It has to be early afternoon by the time he rises, slipping his hand carefully from beneath you and plodding into the kitchen. The blanket is still on the couch where you left it, throw pillow creased with your indentation. Your mugs are discarded on the coffee table with globs of once-hot cocoa stuck to the bottom. Bright light refracts off the snow outside and into his kitchen, making everything look shiny new.

Remus starts the kettle first, letting that warm up while he rifles through the cabinets for his big mixing bowl and starts whisking together ingredients. A bird chirps outside as the kettle gurgles, and somehow the peace of Remus’ kitchen feels more complete knowing that you’re sleeping just down the hall.

Until, apparently, you’re not. Your footsteps are so silent he startles when you appear, still blinking yourself awake as you cross your arms over the sweater you’ve thrown on with your bottoms from the night before. Remus’ sweater. And Remus had thought he’d come to terms with the idea of you here, in his apartment like the best Christmas gift of all time, but apparently not, because his heart stutters and stops at the sight of you.

He’d thought you’d looked adorable in the soft glow of the Christmas lights the night before, and again tucked into his sheets this morning, but you’re almost ethereal now. Sunlight bathes the planes of your face and gleams off your hair, making you appear almost like you’re emanating the bright light rather than standing in it. You smile at him, seraphim.

“Morning. Sorry I didn’t ask,” you say, fingering the hem of Remus’ sweater. “I was cold and you were gone, I hope you don’t mind.”

Mind? Remus can’t even think.

“Course not,” he manages, but just barely. It’s more an exhale than a statement. “Did you sleep alright?”

“Really well,” you say. His sleeves cover your fingers as you rest your elbows on the counter, and your gaze has gone a bit shy again, but Remus can hardly blame you. You both seemed to have experienced unusual nerve the night before. He only hopes you aren’t regretting your part in it. And now that he’s had some time to think, he hopes even more that you’d truly wanted it in the first place. “Did you?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

You lean a bit closer in a way that he doubts either of you are even slightly unaware of, peering into the mixing bowl. “What’re you making?”

“I’m experimenting,” he says, though he wishes now he weren’t. He wanted to make you something good, but his confidence in his adaptation is waning now that you’re in the room. He should have gone with something basic, tried-and-true. “Or, I’m attempting. Gingerbread pancakes?”

His voice crawls up into a question, as if he really has no idea what it is he’s trying to make (maybe that’s closer to the truth), but Remus’ regrets vanish instantly at the genuine elation that lights your expression.

“Really?”

A laugh startles out of him, giddy. “Yeah, does that sound alright?”

“More than alright,” you declare with full seriousness, seating yourself at the bar counter. “That sounds amazing, Rem, thank you. Merlin, I owe you so big for all of this.”

“I think you’ve more than made it up to me.” It slips out without permission, Remus too high on the flow of your conversation to filter the words through his brain before they reach his mouth. His loathsome, traitorous mouth. “I mean, I’m sorry—fuck, that sounds awful—I only meant that I’ve had a really good time with you here. I’m glad you stayed.”

You flush horribly, and Remus doesn’t expect he’s faring much better.

“Not that I’m only glad because of—or, I’m always glad to have you. As a friend, too.”

There’s a tiny pinch in your features, gone before he can diagnose it. Somehow, you seem even more uncomfortable. “Right.” You give him a thin smile. It’s a hearty attempt, but you’re too genuine a soul to fake it. Remus hates himself for it. “As a friend.”

They’re his own words, put hearing them from your mouth and with that piss-poor smile feels like having a fire poker jammed between his ribs.

With his track record this morning, he really should be taking a vow of silence, but he can’t seem to stop himself. “Just friends, then?” Hesitance makes his voice sound quiet even in the silent kitchen. He looks down, stirring the batter to avoid watching the answer take form on your face.

“I mean,” your tone is a match to his, “is that what you want?”

A short, soft laugh escapes him. “I think I made what I want fairly clear last night.”

There’s a short silence. “I thought I did too.”

It’s a conscious effort to keep stirring. Had you? Remus had kissed you, he’d brought you to his room, he’d been the one to ask if you wanted to do more. And you’d been game for it all, sure, but he can’t help but wonder if you were just going along with it. If maybe you’d thought it was just a fuck, something he’d come up with to pass the time while you were both snowed in, no strings attached. Remus could understand that. He could disentangle the strings from last night if it’s what you want. But he’s liked you for years. He could love you oh so easily. He’s practically teetering on the edge of it already, though you’ve only been friends all this time.

Remus spoons some batter into a waiting pan on the stove. He’s debating asking what exactly it is that you thought you’d made clear when you speak again.

“I understand if it’s too much for you.” Your voice is shy. He looks up, and your shoulders are hunched as if you’re trying to hide yourself. You shrink further under his gaze. “We can stay just friends if it’s…if that’s what you want. I want whatever’s easier for you.” Your next words are so impossibly soft, Remus has to strain to hear them over the low sizzling of the pancake batter. “I really want you to stay in my life.”

“What?” It’s a staccato, loud enough that it surprises you both, Remus stepping toward you while you nearly flinch back. “Sorry.” His hand goes up, reaching into the space between you as if he can soothe you from feet away. He lowers his volume. “Sorry, sweetheart, I just—I didn’t realize that was even on the table. I would never want to not be in your life.”

“I just mean that I don’t want to make things weird for you, or for everyone else—”

“Hey.” He manages to cross the distance this time, his hand landing on your wrist atop the counter. Remus isn’t sure why he needs it there so desperately, but he suddenly feels much better. “There is nothing that could make any of us not want to be friends with you. I can speak for everyone in that regard. Okay?”

You look at him consideringly for a moment. Remus holds your stare, letting you see his certainty. “Okay,” you echo, sounding unsure. He’ll deal with that later, he decides.

“Okay,” he says once more, and it’d almost be firm if it weren’t so gentled by the tenderness he can never seem to get rid of around you. Even so, what he says next doesn’t sound particularly tender. It’s not very kind to you, he knows, but Remus is selfish, and he feels (selfishly) like he’s done his part already. He tries to phrase it as nicely as he can. “Can you tell me what it is that you want, please?”

You try to shrink again, and Remus’ grip tightens on your wrist instinctually as if to keep you from running off. He swipes his thumb over your skin apologetically. “Remus, come on.” You sound almost upset, but it’s hard to tell with your voice so quiet. “I know I’m not that good at—at covering myself up. I must have hearts in my eyes half the time I look at you.”

Remus would give a month’s rent to know what you can see in his eyes right now. Even if he’d been hoping for an answer something like that, he hadn’t expected it. And for you to act like it’s been obvious…he does his best to think back.

You’ve always been a shy thing. It had taken James months to get you to be remotely yourself around them, and though you’d seemed to warm to Remus first, you’d always retained some of your bashfulness when you were alone together. He’d chalked it up to the result of two people, quiet by nature, with no wildly extroverted James or Sirius or Lily to run interference.

You’ve always been kind to him, but you’re kind to everyone. How is anyone supposed to suspect favoritism from a soul as indiscriminately sweet as yours?

He recalls your voice last night, thin and reedy and fragile as the cattails that had bordered the river behind his house as a kid. Wary of getting swept along by the current, but willing to go if Remus would take you. Do you want this?

He’d called you oblivious for asking. How could you wonder, when he’d been the one to kiss you and has probably been looking like he wanted to for years? He’s certainly been thinking about it for as long. But perhaps your obliviousness is another congruity between the two of you.

So much for opposites attract.

“I think I’m an idiot,” he says, and mercifully, a smile far more real than the last sneaks onto your face.

“You are not,” you reply, ever forgiving.

“Don’t tell Sirius,” he warns, “but I really think I am.” His voice drops into a more earnest register. “I had no idea, love, I’m sorry. Maybe you’re a better actress than you thought. But if you don’t want to be friends, I don’t want to either.” Remus hesitates. “Or, I always want to be your friend, just—”

“Remus?”

Finally. Someone needs to stop him. “Yeah?”

“Your pancake…”

He turns to find a thin spire of smoke rising from the pan. “Oh, fuck.” He grabs a spatula and quickly flips the pancake, but there’s no saving it. The bottom side is completely blackened. It’s inedible. “Sorry, I…I’m not sure I have enough batter for much more.”

“It’s fine.” There’s laughter in your tone, and that’s more than enough to make up for it. “It was a really sweet thought, that’s what matters anyway.”

Remus turns to find you’ve slipped out of your seat and are standing uncertainly on the threshold of the kitchen. His heart warms with incandescent, aching fondness.

“Would you come here?” he asks.

You comply with an eagerness he wonders he’s never noticed before, stepping forward to let him fold you into his arms. Your wrists cross over his mid back and the tip of his nose mushes into your hair as he touches his lips to the top of your head. He can’t believe he could have been holding you like this all along if only he hadn’t been so thick. He supposes he’ll have to make the most of it now.

“Let’s do away with asking about want, does that sound alright?” He rubs lightly between your shoulder blades, wonders if you like the feel of his breath on your scalp. “How about you tell me if anything comes up that you don’t want, and I’ll do the same.”

“Yeah.” Remus knows he likes the feel of your voice on his skin, chin moving against his chest. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

“Good.” He smiles, pressing another kiss to your head. “Okay, should we venture out to find something for breakfast? Or lunch, I suppose it is by now.”

You ease out of his arms. “I really should go home.” There’s an apology already embedded in your tone, but you add one anyway. “Sorry, but my cat’s been there all night by herself, so…”

“Right.” Remus ignores the dull throb behind his sternum, which is really a bit dramatic. He’ll see you soon, surely. “Yeah, that makes sense. Think you’ll be able to drive?”

“I mean, I looked outside.” You shrug, backing towards where you’d hung your coat the night before. “The roads here are cleared, which I hope means they’ve gotten to most of them already.”

“That’s good,” he says, though he feels the opposite. Your poor cat, he’s pitted completely against her now. She’s done nothing to deserve the resentment he’s directing at her, almost petulant in his malcontent. “Good, good.”

You’re both silent as you put on your shoes, your scarf. It’s not unusual for the two of you, but it lacks its usual easy contentedness. Your eyes flit up as you pull on your new gloves, a silent thanks in them that you know Remus won’t let you voice aloud again. Despite the upset in his chest, he smiles.

“I…listen, I have to go home,” you tell him, looking down as you wriggle your fingers more snugly into the gloves. “I have to feed my cat. But that doesn’t necessarily mean I want to…leave.”

Remus can’t see how that changes anything, but he recognizes it for the olive branch it is. You’re both so uncertain, and you’re trying to alleviate his worries about what you leaving right now means. He can return the favor.

“I don’t want you to leave either,” he says, “but I get it. She seems important to you, best to keep her well.”

“Exactly.” You smile, relieved. “But I mean, if you’re not doing anything, you could come meet her? We could pick up breakfast on the way. Or I could make you something there.”

Remus can’t believe his luck. And, once again, his stupidity in not getting there himself. Why is it that all of a sudden, everything that has to do with you seems so absurdly difficult? At least one of you is thinking clearly.

“Yeah, that would be fantastic.” He’s grinning hugely, totally unlike him but liking it very much. “Let me grab my coat.”

“Wait.” There’s a newly familiar breathless quality to your voice, and when Remus turns you’re already coming forward to meet him. Your palm slides against the stubble along his jaw as you stretch your neck, kissing him sweetly on the lips. “There,” you say, timidity shrouded beneath a good layer of happiness, “now we’re even.”

Remus laughs, loud and startled. He wants to be generous with you, he really does, but he still thinks you’re far from even. “I’m not sure about that, sweetheart,” he says warmly, pressing a brief kiss to the corner of your eyebrow, “but we'll get there.”

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