#bands drabbles

[xpeachesncream]

Hi Nikki!

How are the Bands couple doing? Just re-read it, it’s one of my favorite stories ever, and I’ve been thinking about them ever since. I hope they’re doing well, and that Kai is happy too!

💜💜💜

hi there! hehe love the question!! they're doing well, very, very well! 😬💕 even kai! though he's experiencing a bit of a crisis—

drabble 6.5: kai opens up about his crush to jungkook.

word count: 911

warnings: none - just a cute ‘lil bonding moment 🥹

Jungkook gets home from the studio, tossing his eyes onto the counter before catching wind of Kai's bedroom door slightly ajar. Kai came home for the weekend last night, though he's been too quiet— according to Jungkook.

To you, he's fine.

He's probably tired.

He's got exams and stuff.

But Jungkook has an inkling that it could be way more than that, and he's going to find out today o’clock. Man to man.

"Kai?" Jungkook calls out before softly knocking on his door.

"Hey hyung." Kai says as he continues to play on his switch.

"Can I come in?"

"Sure." Jungkook pokes his head in and Kai greets him with a small smile before setting his switch aside. "Is my sister still out?"

"Yeah, she's getting her nails done right now." Jungkook chuckles a bit as he digs his hands into his pockets and sits next to him on the bed. "You doing okay?"

"Yeah, why?" Kai chuckles.

"Your sister said you're stressing over exams and stuff."

"Ah, kinda? You can say that."

"Exams, huh?" Jungkook gives him a look and Kai laughs a bit.

"Seriously, hyung."

"Who is she?"

"What do you mean?"

"I've been there before." The rosy tint grows on Kai's cheeks and suddenly, the room feels 10x hotter than before. His palms are sweaty, his heart is racing. He’s doing that weird thing where he thinks wiping his hands on his sweats will make the nervousness go away.

Yeah, Jungkook knows.

"Her name is Gabriella. Or, Gabby for short. She’s in my watercolor class.”

“How long has it been?”

“We just started getting close over the month. We had to work on a few class exercises together.”

“Cute.” Jungkook laughs a bit. “Why don’t you just ask her out?”

“Because I’m not like you, hyung. I just can’t go for it. I don’t even know if she likes me back, it’s hard to tell.”

“Well you never know if you don’t try, right?”

“Yeah, but to be honest, I’m scared. I like her a lot. She’s pretty, she’s sweet, and she gets along with everyone. I’ve been stressing over how I should tell her and ask her out, but I come up with nothing. Then, I think about how she’ll probably reject me and it’ll suck.”

“It’s scary and a big step. I know. But, the best way to go about it is to just be honest about your feelings. If it doesn’t work out, then fine. You guys can still be friends and move past it. One door closes, another opens. You can at least say you tried. I’d hate to see you regretting not telling her when it’s too late to change things.” Kai slowly nods his head before letting out a big, hefty sigh and laying back on his bed.

“This is stressful. God, I hate it.” Jungkook laughs.

“Yeah, but like I said. Be honest. Easiest way to handle things.”

“So, should I just show up at her door and be like ‘hey, I like you?’”

“I was thinking more along the lines of just taking her out for a casual lunch or dinner together. Hell, grab some snacks and milk tea or something and just spend some time hanging out near the river. It really doesn’t have to be that extravagant. What matters is you communicating your feelings and being able to talk about it comfortably. I’m sure she’ll appreciate it and things will flow how they should. No pressure, nothing forced.”

“You’re so good at this.” Jungkook shrugs and does a slight head tilt.

“Nah. Trust me, I’m probably learning the most now with your sister. And I wouldn’t have it any other way. Good thing I just went for it, right?” Jungkook smirks, remembering how he flat out told you he wanted to take you out over Facetime while he was in Japan. Kai remembers it too, and how he endlessly teased you about the date. Now, you two have been the only real image and pure example of genuine love for Kai. Things aren’t always perfect, but Kai sees it as perfect— because you and Jungkook are always willing to be honest, communicate and meet in the middle. Never letting things pass for longer than they should, never going to bed mad at each other because of what the next day could bring.

Jungkook is right.

“You’re right. I should just tell her and stop overthinking.” Kai sits up and looks at him. “I should just go for it.”

“Before it’s too late and you can’t.”

“Thanks, hyung. Seriously. This really helped.”

“You’ll be good. You’re still young, you’ve got time and lots of experiences ahead of you. Besides, you’re handsome as hell, smart and selfless. Who would turn that down?” Kai laughs and nods.

“Got me there.” Jungkook stands, ready to leave Kai to his peace. “Thank you again.”

“I’ll always have your back.” Jungkook gives him a small smile. Just as he turns on his heel, Kai calls for him again—

“Oh, hyung?”

“Yo?” Jungkook turns over his shoulder.

“Can you.. not tell my sister right now? She’s gonna flip and I’ll never hear the end of it.” Jungkook chuckles.

“Yeah, sure. I won’t tell her. This should come from you anyway. But, do it whenever you feel comfortable and ready to, alright?”

“Alright.”

“Want me to make you a good bowl of Loco Moco to help ease your nerves?” Kai smiles.

“I’ll never turn that down.”

#xpeachesncream #anon 💌 #nikki writes: bands the series #bands series #jeon jungkook #jungkook #bands couple #bands drabbles

[spicycinnabun]

Eddie tapped his pen against his clipboard, sighing loudly as the second to last auditionee left the stage, accordion and all. He crossed the name out on his sheet. “Okay, no way in hell.”

He shook his head and glared when Gareth weakly protested, “He was okay…”

“No, man. My grandmother has more vocal talent than him, and she had a laryngectomy in fifty-five. Let’s hope this last guy is better, or we’ll have to put out more ads.” Eddie climbed up onto the table, sitting cross-legged on it. It had been a long day of auditions, and he wasn’t feeling particularly friendly. He double-checked his clipboard, then called out, “Steve Harrington? Come on out.”

The sound of footsteps echoed through the theatre. Eddie’s spine straightened a little at the figure who appeared from behind the curtain and stepped into the spotlight, his eyes narrowing.

First of all, Steve Harrington was preppy. There was absolutely nothing Corroded Coffin about this dude. He was perfectly coiffed. No piercings, no grease in his hair, no visible tattoos. From his clean white t-shirt to his mom jeans, down to his sporty Nike’s, he couldn’t be less metal if he tried.

Secondly, he was gorgeous. There were no ifs, ands or buts about that. Eddie fought to keep his indifferent, slightly disgruntled expression on his face. Fought harder to keep his heart from beating a little faster.

This was stupid. There was no way this fucking angel-haired, Ken dolled, boy band of a man was going to have their sound.

Eddie’s pen was already poised beside Steve Harrington, about to cross it out.

Then Harrington leaned into the mic, introduced himself with a confidence and swagger reminiscent of Presley, and started singing.

Eddie’s wrist jerked, his pen halting. His eyes widened. Behind him, Gareth and Jeff shared an equally wide-eyed look, Gareth grinning like a loon.

Well, shit.

…So, maybe Eddie was wrong.

#fic #steddie drabble #steddie fic #steddie band au #steddie au #band au #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steve x eddie #stranger things #corroded coffin #🎤 #🎸 #singer!steve harrington

[lildoodlenoodle]

Some random Hobie information from the comics! I’ve specified where the movies might come in and fanon stuff!

Hobie, despite having a British/cockney accent in the movie and in the comics, lives in NYC in the comics(movie might b different).

Hobie is a homeless teen(I’m pretty sure his parents died) radicalized by his dystopian world.

He’s been Spiderman for 3 years(movie so most of his comics have probably passed) and his world is a weird combination of 1970s-1990s.

Canonically bad at naming things.

His friends/band are tired of his shit and regularly make fun of him for saving the multiverse.

The cops in Hobie’s world all have the venom symbiote, he uses his guitar to play frequencies that disrupt the symbiotes.

He kills Norman Osborn twice.

Yes he kills cops.

Full name is Hobart.

Originally he hated being called Spider-Punk.

He works with his worlds Daredevil(Mattea Murdock), Captain America(Captain Anarchy), Hulk(Robbie Banner), Ironheart(RiotHeart), Ms. Marvel, etc.

Most people in his ‘band’ can’t actually play lol.

With facism one of his other greatest enemies is capitalism and being ‘marketable’.

Hobie’s design was originally meant to be Spider UK, who later became Billy Braddock.

He also got a symbiote dog called Spider-Mutt in his latest run.

Gwen Stacy was a famous rockstar who died in his world, Hobie was a fan!

He was originally recruited to what I affectionately call the ‘Interdimensional Spider Death Squad’ run by the Superior Spider with Spider Noir (and eventually Miles and Jessica joined right before the teams merged)rather than the other group of spiders.

He was the one that brought Miles back into the ‘spider society’ when the inheritors came back.

In the comics he lives in a Welfare center in Brooklyn he and his friends/band operate, in the movie he lives in a boat!

Hobie has an interdimensional band with Gwen(drums), Pavitr(keyboard), Noir(bass), Anya(1616 vocals), and Ham(air guitar)

I can’t remember Hobie having any romantic interests in his universe, but fanon wise he is often shipped with his canon gay friend, Captain Anarchy aka Karl Morningdew, but Karl does have a canon boyfriend. But outside of his universe there’s a whole host of possible ships and some do include: Hobiemiles / punkflower hobiepav/chaipunk hobiegwen / ghostpunk

#just fun little details to add for fanfic and drabbles #most of this is from memory so lmk if anything is wrong #I’m like 70% sure it’s referenced in the comics that he’s British and it’s mean to be a throw back to the spider UK design #Hobie brown #spider punk #spider band #punkflower #chaipunk #goldenpunk #is that the new ship name? #ghostpunk #noirpunk

[hmxltn]

mornings (charles leclerc)

summary: waking up w charles <3

pairing: charles leclrec x reader

warnings: not smut but like its pretty obvious that they fucked

a/n: sad ab charles not getting thru q1 so have this :)

A SMALL SWIRL swirl of leaves forms under the whisper of the wind as it blows reveries through the worn voile curtains, dancing a peaceful, timeless dance. Tendrils of sunlight bleed through the sheer curtain, caressing your cheek. The room is serenaded by the low hum of the bustling city you both call home, and the soft chatter of its people fills your ears. You smile; tranquillity has never come easily to either of you.

The scent of lavender fills the room, transporting you back to lush green plains, flowers swaying in the wind as it sings sweet melodies written by the most delicate of poets, and the beauty of Mother Nature reflected in the morning sunlight.

Suddenly, you can feel Charles' breath on your skin, similar to the night before, but this was less frantic and less intentional. 

Last night, he had kissed you—and perhaps because you thought he won’t ever stop, you pulled him closer, and closer. His whispers, pliant to your ears, had never been so soft, so sweet. He held you; fingers against your waist and skin. His fingers had burned like wildfire; and like skilled artists, they painted trails across your skin. You had felt it first against your cheek, your arms then your hips. To you, he was like ambrosia, a respite after the cigarettes you’d been smoking.

Slowly you begin to feel his eyelashes move against the side of your neck and the feel of your own name against your skin. You only hum in response, too tired to come up with a simple ‘yes?’.

“Bonjour,” he says, and you can feel his smile as the ends of his lips move the hairs at the nape of your neck just enough for it to send a shiver cascading down your spine. 

“Bonjour,” you manage to reply, and his fingers start to trace your hips, and now your waist. You turn your body so you’re facing him fully and cover your face in his chest, trying your best not to look at him. You can’t look at him. Because if you did, he’d let his fingers trace your jaw like this, and he’d put them under your chin like he was doing now and—

Christ.

“Belle fille,” he whispers to you, a grin painting his lips. (pretty girl)

You can’t stop the smile that breaks on your face, brighter than the tendrils of sunlight that bleed against both your skins. 

feedback & reblogs r always appriciated x

#f1 #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc drabble #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc angst #f1 x reader #band au #bandau!charles x reader #charles x reader #charles leclrec x fem!reader #charles x fem!reader #charles leclerc x you #charles x you #fluff #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc one shot #oneshot #fluff oneshot #smut oneshot #charles leclerc oneshot #charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc fluff blurb #charles leclerc fluff oneshot

[amethyst-halo]

ive been doodling a bit for a couple days! the service critter thing is like im def not the first one to do it ive seen it before skdjfhdhd but i think its good :3

#trolls #trolls 3 #trolls band together #dreamworks trolls #trolls floyd #trolls poppy #trolls clay #trolls branch #sketch's sketches #i needed to draw poppy with lots of hearts so i did #the sleepy floyd is from my silly lil drabble doc #and then critters!!! i like critters

[vampykween]

bestfriend!simon who teaches you to play guitar<3

you’re in awe at how his fingers move across the beautiful instrument and so of course you had to learn from him. and you can’t tell if it’s all in your head but there’s something so intimate about the way he so patient with you, how his deft fingers move yours skillfully along the neck of the guitar.

you don’t know simon is thinking the same thing. he feels so close to you right now, sharing something so special to him with you. it takes all his strength to not show you his notebook filled with scribbles and song ideas because you’d be able to see just how much he cared about you. <333

#mic drabbles #bestfriend!simon #simon in a band! #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader

[ethereal-maniac]

Mountain: *running around outside trying to save his plants from an oncoming storm* HELP ME

Cirrus: *after hours online looking at memes* honey, you got a big storm coming.

Mountain: AGHHH-

#the band ghost #ghost band #nameless ghouls #mountain ghoul #mountain ghost #for you #ghesties #idek #my writing #incorrect ghouls quotes #incorrect quotes #cirrus ghoulette #cirrus ghost #quick little drabble #i write

[lovings4turn]

☆ introducing : rockstar!marauders

+ both sfw and nsfw thoughts ; just a messy ramble

rockstar!sirius . . . the lead singer

— sirius knows how to captivate an audience and uses it to his advantage. he makes sure you're front and centre at every show, so he can ensure your eyes never stray from him. any time he sings a particularly flirty or sexual lyric, he's shooting you a wink, making sure everybody in the venue knows exactly who's on his mind at that moment.

— before going on stage, sirius likes to make the most of every minute he has with you. many supply closets have been tainted by sloppy make out sessions, and sirius has had you propped up against a door whilst he fucks into you more times than you can count. once, you were interrupted by james' fist banging against the door, complaining that sirius had to be on in one minute, and to please saving the fucking for after the show.

rockstar!remus . . . the bassist

— remus is quietly confident - he's not as animated as sirius or james, but he's confident in what he does. bobs his head along to the beat, long fingers plucking the baseline that he feels reverberating through his chest. he's got it pretty much mastered, not needing to pay too much attention to where his fingers need to be, which gives him all the more reason to find your eye in the crowd and give you a sly grin.

— when you make the joke that 'bass players do it deeper', he wastes no time in getting you alone. unable to even make it home, he'll have you bent over the dressing table and unable to talk within minutes, his thrusts slow and deep as he mumbles in your ear about how well you're taking him.

rockstar!james . . . the lead guitarist

— james thrives on the reactions he gets from performing a particularly tricky riff, never able to wipe a cocky grin from his face after completing any impressive solos. he's one to strut around the stage as he plays, sometimes bobbing around sirius as he's singing a chorus.

— he uses his skills to his advantage, though, knowing you can never tear your eyes away from his hands whenever he's onstage. makes plenty of jokes about just how talented he is with his fingers, and how they have more uses than travelling up and down a fretboard. he'd be more than happy to show you exactly how well he can use his fingers - all you have to do is ask.

rockstar!regulus . . . the drummer

— regulus enjoys the fact that his kit is always positioned at the back of the stage. it means he pretty much fades away as everyone else focuses on the other members - everyone apart from you, of course. he acts as though you're the only person looking at him, and makes sure that the muscles in his arms flex just enough to be seen from your position in the front row.

— he tries to teach you how to play, once. though thanks to the way his thigh bounces every time he steps on the bass drum pedal, the lesson is soon abandoned in favour of you riding his thigh, head thrown back as he brings you to your orgasm.

#.° ༘🗝️⋆₊ becca’s drabbles #as someone whose boyfriend is in a band. i have such rockstar!marauders brain rot #remus lupin #sirius black #james potter #regulus black #marauders #remus lupin blurb #sirius black blurb #james potter blurb #regulus black blurb #rockstar!james #rockstar!sirius #rockstar!remus #rockstar!regulus

[the-hole-in-terzos-shoe]

Dream Come True

Terzo x Reader

Just some late night inappropriate pillow talk between Terzo and his latest partner.

I've been really enjoying doing these drabbles when they pop in my head! It's something I've never really done before, and it fills in the spaces between bigger fics.

CW: pillow talk, mentions of anal, implications of threesome, somehow kinda fluffy kinda steamy

Word Count: 400

"I swear that woman is constantly up my ass," Terzo groans, complaining once again about Sister Imperator, "and not in the good way..." He smirks jokingly.

You'd only been seeing him for a little while, surely just one in a long line of partners. "Papa..." you giggle, hiding your face in your hands.

"What is it, Sorella?" He can't help but grin as he wraps his arm lazily around your waist, your smile is too infectious.

"I just..." you raise your eyebrows, looking between him and the sheets you lay on, "I didn't know you liked that." Another fit of giggles, nervous this time.

"You didn't know I liked what?" His chuckle rumbles right next to your ear as he presses a few sloppy kisses to your neck.

"You know..." you go silent as his eyes fall on yours once again. He simply quirks an eyebrow, curious of your response. It comes out practically in a whisper, "Receiving."

He huffs a laugh out of his nose, "Receiving, eh?" He has that playful glint in his eye, "Does this mean you are doing the giving?"

You flush a deep red, hiding your face against his bare chest.

"Tell me, dolcezza..." he starts in a dramatic tone, "Do you think of your Papa all spread out, face down in the mattress?"

He's just saying anything to affect you at this point, you can't help the fit of laughter coming out of you. Finally when you calm down, he has one more question to ask, "Do you want to give it to me?" His voice murmurs low, like sweet nothings between lovers should: half serious, but light-hearted.

"Well," you break eye contact again, "Not exactly."

His confused expression brings another smile to your face. "Then why bring this up, Sorella, if you do not intend to... follow through?"

"Because I think it would be sexy to 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩."

𝘖𝘩. It dawns on him.

"I did not know you were a voyeur, amante mia! How very spicy of you," he nuzzles into your neck again, planting smooches across your skin.

"I'm not! I mean-" you push him lightly to get a little space between your bodies, "I can't just sit by and watch. I would still wanna touch you." Terzo raises his eyebrows. You lean up to his ear to continue, "I might even want you to fuck me while it's happening."

"𝘖𝘩, 𝘢𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦... What a dream come true. What other ideas will that brilliant mind of yours come up with?" He kisses you on the forehead, "In fact, I know the perfect ghoul to help make our dreams a reality..."

#will there be a full fic one day? #only time can tell #I've been itching to write Terzo x Reader x Omega for a long time #the band ghost #ghost band #papa emeritus iii #papa iii #terzo #papa 3 #omega ghoul #x reader #reader insert #fantasy #imagine #ghost fanfiction #fanfic #drabble #oneshot #terzomega #terzo x omega #terzo x reader #omega3 #mdni #18+ mdni #18+ only #18+ content #18+ account #shitghosting #papa emeritus iv #copia

[ramblingoak]

How about "you're gonna get lipstick all over me"? Choose your papa 🥰

Love u!

I want nothing more than lipstick marks from Papa. Any Papa. But for you I chose Copia 💙

Smudge

Papa Emeritus IV x GN Reader (gender neutral reader, sfw, just Copia being silly, 700 words)

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

“Well?  What do you think?”

You couldn’t shake the stupid grin on your face as you watched your Papa strut around in front of you.  He had dragged you out of your office an hour ago under the guise of needing help with tour prep, but it had quickly become obvious that all Copia really wanted to do was show off.  Even so you obediently had sat down on the couch in his office to watch him move around the room.  When he turned to look at you expectantly you couldn’t help but mess with him a little so you crossed your arms and scrunched your nose up.

“Hmm, I’m not sure.”  His mouth fell open and you had to bite your lip to keep from laughing at him.  “Don’t you already have one of these?”

“Si, si but not in this color.”

“You needed another one?” 

“D-dolcezza!”  You wondered if anyone would believe you that Papa sometimes stomped his foot like a child.  “This is for the fans.”

“What about the blue one, was that for the fans?”

“Si.”

“Hmm and the red?”

It was Copia’s turn to cross his arms as he glared at you while you stared at him from the couch.

“People had been asking for the red to come back for a while, dolcezza.”

“Oh, have they?  I hadn’t noticed.”  You hummed and tapped a finger on your chin as you watched him mutter to himself in Italian.  “So now you needed a, what, silver one?”

“Silver?”  Copia looked about ready to throw a fit, holding his arms out while he glared at you.  “You think this is silver?”

“Isn’t it?  Wait, hang on.”  He watched you warily as you hopped up to wander over.  Copia held still as you walked around him, running your fingers across his shoulders.  “Ok, I’m sorry Papa.  It’s not silver.”

“Si, grazie.  Silver wouldn’t be very exciting so that’s why I asked for a go–”

“Brown is kind of boring though, don’t you think Papa?”

“Brown?!”  He looked down at his jacket and back up to you a few times before finally growling and advancing on you.  “Why you little brat.”

You shrieked when he tried to grab you around your waist, quickly moving away from him and stumbling back towards the couch.  He caught you right before you fell onto it, his hands on your waist helping to ease you down.  Copia climbed up after you, straddling your legs and leaning forward to make his eyes level with yours.

“Do you enjoy riling up your Papa, dolcezza?”

“Yes actually, it’s a lot of fun.”  He snorted, shaking his head while he straightened up.  You let your eyes wander over him, admiring how handsome he looked in his Papal paint and his fancy jacket.  “The gold is very pretty.”

Copia smiled and grabbed your hand to place a kiss on the back, his lipstick leaving a smudge of black on your skin.  

“You really think so?  It’s not too much?”

It always broke your heart a bit when he sounded timid, like he was afraid of your answer.  As if you couldn’t possibly be hopelessly in love with his stupid handsome face.  Still, it wouldn’t stop you from messing with him.  Just a little bit.

“No Copia, I don’t think three sparkly jackets are too much.”  You laughed when he growled and leaned down to plant a sloppy kiss on your cheek.  “It’s not too late to get another.  Maybe a pink one!”  He planted another kiss on you and you reached up to rub a hand over your skin.  “Ugh, you’re getting your lipstick all over my face!  I have to go back to work, you know.  Not all of us can spend the day playing dress up.”

“I’m Papa.  I can do what I want.”  When you raised an eyebrow at him he let out that dirty chuckle you loved so much.  “You should take the rest of the day off.”

“Oh?  And do what?”

His eyes darkened as he gently took your chin in his hand, rubbing a thumb across your lower lip.  

“How about we see where else I can leave lipstick marks, hmm?”

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

my masterlist

my ao3

#my fics #my writing #oakie drabble #papa emeritus iv x gn reader #papa emeritus iv x reader #copia x gn reader #copia x reader #the band ghost fanfiction #copia fanfiction #papa emeritus iv fanfiction #papa emeritus x reader

[lskisms]

You asked for ghost requests?

I got an idea for Phantom cause from the clips I've seen. He's like a high-energy puppy.

Relaxing with his partner after a concert, and he's sleepy as he comes down from the high of performing or he still has unspent energy leftover. So two options: soft sleepy smexy times or doing it to release the rest of his energy. Feel free to choose either one.

can attest to the puppy energy !! he was all over the stage in austin and it was the cutest thing i’ve ever seen actually i was giggling at the barricade like a little schoolgirl

anyways bc phantom is SOOOO my baby why not both

sleepy and soft.

say he comes back to the hotel room and once he’s freshly showered, he’s got you in his arms, relaxed in bed and chatting about anything that comes to mind. the adrenaline, all that octane, has burned through him and smothered itself out, but still, he has this urgent need to feel you entirely. he kisses you soft and slow, pressing you back into the plush pillows. when he moves to kiss you neck, little fangs dragging lightning across your skin, you try to tell him he just showered, so he shouldn’t work up another sweat. he doesn’t listen to you, of course, just nips at the junction between your shoulder and neck, the soft skin pricking hotly, and whispers that he needs you.

and because you’ve always been weak to him, you let him shimmy you out of your pajamas and take you as he pleases. his hips roll against yours deliciously, agonizingly slow, but each press of his cock against that spot inside you that only he knows how to get to makes it worth it. his mouth is everywhere, muttering praises into your skin and swallowing up each noise of yours that dares to rise abovea soft moan. he makes sure you come first, as he always does, and his release follows just seconds after. his body eases into yours, skin against skin, breaths mingling between you. he refuses to pull out of you for quite sometime, but you don't complain (you never complain) because he fills you in ways undescribable, an otherworldly feeling of completion.

but he is thoroughly exhausted, sleepiness settling heavy into his very bones. he does get up eventually to clean you up and redress you, but each motion is slow-going, syrupy and languid and perfect. he takes you into his arms again the second he's back in bed, whispers of love confessions falling on deaf ears as you let the remnants of his warmth inside you lull you to sleep.

pent-up.

he doesn't bother to shed his clothes or shower first, doesn't even bother to kick off his shoes. the second he sees you in the hotel room, he's getting himself out of the offending mask and sealing you in a kiss that is all teeth and tongue and spit. it's a way you have him often, messy and fumbling, but that always drives the experience of letting him have you from perfect to life-altering.

he barely gets himself out of his boots, his pants, or even you out of your own clothes, soaked with the sweat of yourself and the people you'd been with in the pit that night, crushed against the barricade. he gets you on all fours on the bed and slips inside without much of a fight, his cock straining against the slick of your walls. the pace he sets is brutal and it has you keening loudly; you're certain you'll have a noise complaint before he's even halfway decided to be done using you tonight.

his hands press bruises into your skin, claws digging deep into the plush of everywhere he can reach. the bite of each pinprick has your eyes rolling into the back of your head, a delicious haze filling your head until all you can think of is his name and the earth-shattering way his hips drive into your ass. he pulls you up by the back of your neck, tongue sliding against the shell of your ear as he asks you who your body belongs to, who gets to use it as they please (it's yours, phantom. all yours, comes your reply, each syllable broken and stuttered). and when he's content with your answers, he pushes you down into the mattress, his hand pressing your back into a perfect arch just for him.

he overstimulates you, focused on nobody's pleasure, just on getting that livewire of energy out of himself. you're lucky he doesn't make you count how many times you come because you lose count after three. and when his rutting finally comes to an end, it's almost as agonizing to not have him inside of you as it is for him to keep fucking you. you're so limp and foggy that it makes him giggle hazily himself, proud to have been the progenitor of your undoing.

he'll do it again after the next concert too, he tells you, so don't worry your pretty little head. he knows how much you adore being brainless for him and it'd be awfully despicable of him to deny you that pleasure.

#phantom x reader #phantom ghoul x reader #ghost x reader #the band ghost x reader #the band ghost smut #phantom smut #nameless ghoul x reader #nameless ghoul smut #.thebandghost #.phantom #.smut #.drabble

[supernovafics]

boyfriend!steve is in a band and you go to one of his shows (18+ minors dni)

wc: 1k

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

there was something about his hands on that guitar, plucking the strings and switching from notes so seamlessly, that made you want to combust.

it also made you upset that you hadn’t been to one of steve’s shows sooner. but, classes had been so hectic for you lately that it was genuinely hard to find the time; and steve never made you feel bad about it. 

almost everyone in the crowd was staring at him, but he was looking right at you. 

even though there were a bunch of people surrounding you and you weren’t able to get that close to the stage, he still saw you. 

and when he smiled at you, you couldn’t help but shyly smile back at him, even though you hadn’t felt nervous around him in years. 

“you were very hot up there,” you told him after the show when the two of you were seated on the couch in the tiny room backstage designated for the band. “yeah?” he shifted a bit closer to you and wrapped an arm around you. you instinctively leaned into his touch. 

it was only the two of you in the room because his bandmates had already headed to the bar next door to the venue. you and steve planned to meet up with them in a bit. 

you nodded. “i’m like ninety-five percent sure that every girl in the crowd wanted to sleep with you.”

he laughed at that. “okay, i’m sure that’s an exaggeration.”

“oh, don’t be so modest.” you playfully poked his side. 

“well, the only girl i wanna sleep with is right here,” he said as he pressed a kiss to your cheek. 

“always the smooth talker, harrington,” you smiled. you then intertwined your hand with his that was draped around you and pulled it to your lips to give it a quick kiss. “also, your hands on that guitar. very, very hot as well.”

you had probably always been obsessed with steve’s hands, something that you had mentioned to him many, many times before, so seeing them “in action” while he was performing that night only increased your infatuation tenfold. 

“mm, really?” he asked, pretending to seem somewhat surprised. he always loved to tease you about how much you loved his hands. 

“yes, the main event in my eyes,” you said and then kissed his hand again. 

he was about to respond with another teasing comment but pulled you sideways onto his lap instead. the black skirt you were wearing rode up a little and his hands settled against your thighs and started tracing soft circles on the bare skin. 

“i’m starting to think you love my hands more than me,” he told you, acting mock offended. 

“they’re definitely a plus for sure,” you said, trying to make your voice sound playful but it was hard to do so when steve’s fingers were slowly trailing farther up your thigh and you could already feel the wetness pooling in your panties at simply the thought of what was next.

you were staring straight into his eyes as you parted your legs just a tiny bit because you couldn’t help but want more, even though the two of you were in a room where anyone could’ve walked in at any moment. 

a small smirk played on steve’s face as he took your action as a signal to keep going, and when he pressed his fingers against your underwear, a quiet moan fell from your lips and he let out a soft groan. “jesus, you’re soaked already, baby.”

a faint “mhm” was all you could respond with at that moment and your eyes slipped shut for a brief moment as you felt him continue to tease you through your underwear. 

somehow you managed to find some logic through your neediness, and you stopped him before he pulled the thin fabric to the side and really felt you. “wait. is there somewhere else we can go? we can’t do this in here.”

steve nodded and slotted his lips against yours for a brief moment before responding to you. “mm, we definitely could. but, yes there is somewhere else.”

you maneuvered off of his lap and stood up and let him lead you out of the room and toward a bathroom that was a bit down the hall.  

when the door was shut and locked behind you both, you didn’t waste a second to pull steve in for a kiss; one that was much less chaste and a lot more desire filled. 

his hands found your waist and gave your skin a light squeeze as he guided you back toward the sink and helped lift you onto it. 

you couldn’t even bring yourself to care or notice how grimey the bathroom was. all you wanted was steve. 

“fuck,” you moaned when his hands left your waist and went underneath your skirt to finally slip off your underwear. 

your eyes fell shut and you leaned back against the mirror as you felt his soft but slightly calloused fingers stroke your wet folds and begin to tease your clit. 

steve let out a quiet groan as he watched how easily his fingers could move through your pussy. “all this for me, hm, baby? all this because of my hands?” 

your mind was already feeling a little incoherent so all you could mutter out was a barely audible “yes” along with something that vaguely resembled a nod. but, that wasn’t enough for steve. 

he stopped the slow circles he was making against your clit and you immediately pouted at him, eyes opening as you met his dark gaze. 

“i wanna hear you, baby,” he said as he pressed a quick kiss to your cheek.

“yes, yes, i’m so wet for you, stevie. your hands, fuck, i love them so much,” you told him as you slightly bucked your hips upward in attempt to feel something. he smiled at how desperate you were for him. 

when he finally slipped two fingers inside of you, with much ease because of how wet you were, you let out a soft whimper and buried your face in his neck. 

he slowly moved his fingers in and out of you, and he could feel your walls fluttering with every movement. “ah, shit, you feel so good, baby. squeezing my fingers so tight, holy fuck.”

you moaned into his neck and the feeling of your lips against him made him go even more feral. he added a third finger and pushed further into you, hitting a spot that made you see stars. 

“oh, fuck. right there, yes,” you practically screamed and had to bite your lip harshly to stifle the noise. 

it was almost too easy for him to bring you to the edge and when his thumb started circling your clit as his fingers relentlessly pounded into you, he could feel how close you were getting. 

he softly pushed you back so that you were no longer moaning into his neck, but instead leaning against the mirror. 

“i wanna see you when you come, baby. you always look so pretty.”

those words alone were almost enough to make you fall apart against his hand right there, but it wasn’t until his fingers hit deep inside of you one, two, three more times, and then his lips ghosted over yours for a brief moment as he said the words, “come for me, pretty girl,” that you finally exploded. your back arched sharply off the mirror and you let out the loudest moan that you couldn’t even bother trying to stifle. 

steve continued fingering you through your orgasm, trying to prolong it as long as possible because he loved the soft sounds that fell from your lips, and his other hand stroked your hot cheek. “so pretty.” 

your eyes finally opened and you smiled at him, breaths still coming out in soft pants. “i love you.”

his lips found yours in a slow kiss that lasted for a few moments before he pulled away and said, “love you too.”

he pulled his fingers out of you and slipped your underwear back up your legs. 

“can this be a post-show ritual now?” you asked as he helped you off the sink and you wrapped your arms around his neck. 

he smiled and softly kissed your lips. “i’d love that.”

#currently going insane at the thought of band!steve #steve harrington smut #steve harrington thoughts #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fic #stranger things smut #stranger things fic #stranger things fluff

[luna-misera]

You and Copia snuggling in his bed and having a little spicy making out session and things start to escalate… only to have his rats interrupt and cock block him lmao

I like the way you think, naughty ghoul~ I very much enjoyed fulfilling this request of yours. Please enjoy!

Them Rats (Copia x GN!Reader)

Warning(s): NSFW (18+ MDNI)

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It was late into the evening by the time you and Copia were settling into bed. Copia had just gotten out of the shower and smelled strongly of rich mahogany and a hint of lavender. The soap he used always stirred your senses; you wasted no time stuffing your face into his chest the second he crawled into the bed beside you.

Copia chuckled when you hummed in delight and breathed in his scent. A warm hand slid from your shoulder to the small of your back as he shifted his weight to get more comfortable beside you. It started with an innocent kiss on your forehead. However, Copia is a man with not so innocent desires, and when you look at him with those pleading eyes he simply cannot help himself.

Next thing you know he is on top of you. His hand lingers on your hip as he crashes his lips against yours. You comb your fingers through his hair as his tongue begs for admission to taste you. As he deepens the kiss you feel him teasingly roll his hips into you. The growing bulge in his pants brushes lightly against your own arousal and elicits a quiet moan from your throat. He groans against your lips in reply, and repeats the gesture again. This time his movements are deliberate as he rolls his hips into you with the intention of pleasing both himself and you.

The sensation of your clothed sexes grinding together fogs your senses as you both fall further into a cloud of ecstasy.

His lips move to your neck and your body shudders in pleasure. You feel your heart racing and your breathing gets deeper as you feel his hand slide up your back. There is a faint sound in the background. At first it is not noticeable enough to pull either of you from your fit of passion.

Then it happens again, and you pull away from Copia, "What is that...?" you ask while gasping for air.

"That is how much I want you, amore~" Copia replies seductively and presses his hips against you with a devilish smirk on his face.

You frown and turn your head away when he leans down to kiss you again. "No- Shut up." you tell him and press your finger to his lips. He makes a noise to express his disappointment but you cut him off with a harsh "SHH!"

Copia's eyes narrow in confusion as silence falls between you. He opens his mouth to speak but he is interrupted by a jarring racket that takes you both by surprise. Your heads simultaneously turn to the large rat cage that sits in the corner of the room. One of the rats seemed to think it was a great time to run on the noisy exercise wheel in their enclosure. The entire cage rattled as it spun around, and it also made a horrendous whirring sound as the plastic scraped against itself.

"Ehi! Dannati roditori!" Copia waves his fist at the rat's cage, "Ah, piccoli bastardi." he grumbles and pulls himself off you and approaches the enclosure. You watch as he opens the door to the cage and picks up the little nuisance with the utmost care and tenderness he can muster. He holds the rat in his palm and lifts it up to his face, "Tuo papà è occupato, I will give this back later, okay?" he tells the rat as he takes the wheel out of the enclosure before setting it down on the floor.

"Aaww..." he coos at the rat as it wiggles its whiskers at him. Copia then gives the rodent a gentle pet before placing it back in the cage. He turns back to you and raises his arms, "Now! Where were we, amore?" he asks and crawls back into the bed with you.

You giggle softly at him as he hovers over your body, "I was about to take my clothes off." you explain.

Copia smirks at you, "Ohoho? Is that so? Well... Let us pick up where we left off then, hm?"

#copia x reader #ghost band #ghost fandom #ghost band x reader #smut #drabble #papa emeritus iv #papa copia

[eternal-kosmo-ghoul]

*°:⋆ₓₒ day 24. threesome

.｡❅*⋆⍋*∞*｡ “sharing is caring”

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ — ❤︎ sodo and rain learn to share their special gift

pairing: sodo ghoul x afab!reader x rain ghoul

a/n: to make up for the missed day i will try to make this fic one of my better ones 🙏 we’re almost done with the holiday hoes event !!!

cw: nsfw content. threesome. switch!sodo. dom!rain. sub!reader. spanking. oral sex (m receiving). piv sex. anal sex. degradation. double penetration.

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“look at you two… just a couple of filthy whores.. oh isn’t this just exciting?” —❤︎

“s-shut the fuck up…” —❤︎

┅✦┅

sodo swore he was seeing things for a moment.

the sight before him looked too good to be true.

but alas, a familiar voice ringed out, snapping the fire ghoul out of his trance and back into reality.

“don’t just stand there.” rain spoke with a snippy tone, sounding irritated from sodo’s presence.

“either you join in on the fun, or you get the fuck out.”

lord knows what force of satan possessed sodo to make him stay, but he did, silently and slowly shutting the door behind him. his eyes never tore away from the scene before him.

what a sight for sore eyes, that’s for sure. rain has you bent over in a doggy style position, webbed fingers tightly clamped onto your hips while his cock plowed into the rim of your ass, each thrust making you squeal in pure ecstasy. the fire ghoul’s eyes drifted down to the lower half of your body, and he could see how dripping wet you were, pussy leaking and begging for attention while the water ghoul behind you abused your ass with his dick.

rain noticed how his pack mate was staring at you, and he grinned wickedly, one of his hands flying down to smack your ass lewdly.

“gorgeous, aren’t they?” rain spoke with a velvety, slick tone, thrusts slowing down slightly so he can turn part of his attention to sodo.

the fire ghoul just nodded, and crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow. “so this is what you’ve been doing for the holiday season?”

“yes, why? got a problem with it?” rain mused.

sodo scoffed, a sarcastic smirk evident on his face. “maybe. you couldn’t bother to share?”

“well i’m sharing now, aren’t i?” rain quipped back, thrusting in a particular angle that had you moaning into the sheets. “and i can see your dick straining in your pants. so come on, get over here and join in on the action.”

the fire ghoul just chuckled and started walking towards you both. “gladly.”

the fact that rain and sodo were just casually having a conversation like you weren’t being absolutely pounded into, it just got you going even more. your eyes were hazed and blurred with instinctive tears, slowly watching sodo make his way over to you while his calloused fingers undid the fly on his pants.

sodo got up on the bed and positioned himself in front of you, being sure that the front of his lower body was directly at your face. before you knew it, he had completely pulled down his pants and boxers, his hardened cock springing free from the restraints of his undergarments. the spitfire looked down at your lustful face, and smirked.

“like what you see?” he chuckled, one of his hands moving to grab onto the shaft of his dick, aligning it in front of your lips.

your eyes were dotted with stars while staring down at the chub of sodo’s cock. it was already leaking with precum and throbbing with need. damn, he got so turned on just from watching you and rain.

rain seemed to have noticed that you were very much star struck by the sight of sodo’s gorgeous dick. he growled, and thrusted into you hard, making you whine loudly.

sodo saw this and took this as an opportunity to shove his cock into your mouth while your lips parted, making you whimper in surprise from his shaft invading your mouth. though, your lips tightened around it, and sodo groaned with delight.

“fuck. that’s it.” he snarled, grabbing a fistful of your hair to control your movements. “suck on it.”

the sensation of being fucked from behind by rain and sucking off sodo, it was so goddamn hot. to just be used and pleasured by these two incredibly sexy ghouls, it was a fantasy like no other. the eagerness was evident in the way you were sucking sodo’s cock, tongue swirling around the head and getting a good taste of that salty precum. the fire ghoul was definitely enjoying it too, given by how he was grabbing your hair and forcing you to go deeper while his pleasured sounds increased in volume.

while all this was happening, a certain water ghoul was observing you and the fire ghoul closely. rain chuckled lustfully as he watched sodo’s expression morph from arrogant promiscuity, to desperate and needy. sodo’s tongue hung out of his mouth as you sucked him off, and rain was reveling at the sight of you two.

“look at you two… just a couple of filthy whores.. oh isn’t this just exciting?” he chided with a lewd edge, grabbing one of your legs and hooking it around his waist from behind.

sodo let out a high pitched growl and moaned in response, gritting his sharp teeth together. “s-shut the fuck up…”

“oh you know it’s true.” the bassist responded, slapping your ass, a loud smack echoing through the walls and your moans quickly following after.

“you two are like dogs in heat. it’s pathetic, really.”

“h-hahhh… s-screw you rain… ahh..!”

rain was turning you and sodo into his bitches, using your bodies for his own personal pleasure. he liked watching the fucked out expressions on your face, and the blissed twinkle that shone in sodo’s eyes every time your tongue dragged across the most sensitive part on his dick.

eventually, sodo had enough and wanted to feel something better. removing his cock from your mouth with a popping sound, sodo had changed positions a bit.

grabbing your body and lifting your hips up, sodo positioned himself underneath you and aligned his cock along your glittering wet pussy. rain seemed to take notice of this, and smirked. while still inside of you, rain grabbed your thighs and spread them further apart, before forcing your cunt down on sodo’s cock, loud gasps rupturing from your guys’ throats.

your mind was being numbed from the feeling of two things penetrating both holes all at once. sodo was underneath you and sat up slightly, cows grasping at your thighs while he bucked his hips up into you. pleasured grunts fell from his lips as he did this.

“f-fuck you feel so good…” the fire ghoul praised, moving you deeper onto his length. you could only babble nonsensical words while he spoke to you.

rain looked down at the two of you and scowled lustfully. his hand gripped your hair and forced it up while he went to town inside of you.

“look at that, sodo.” rain chided, a promiscuous twinge evident in his voice. “see that face on them? you think that’s you making them feel this good?”

sodo snarled and rammed his hips up further into your tight cunt.

“what ever happening to sharing, rain?” he gritted, tail coiling around your thigh possessively.

“i am sharing.” rain retorted. “was just statin’ the facts.”

“well i think that your ‘facts’ are complete and utter bullshit.”

the two ghouls snarled at each other, their cocks hitting deeper inside of you to try and prove that one was better than the other. you on the other hand, were forced to take it all.

after a bit of back and forth bickering, rain just smirked.

“you know what? how about we just keep fucking them, see who makes them cum the hardest, eh?” rain challenged, and sodo’s eyes fluttered in pleasure and intrigue, anger fading away for a moment.

“i know you like a good challenger after all, firefly. so how about it? wanna keep doin’ this like rabbits and see who gets them off the hardest?”

sodo took a moment to speak back, moaning in delight as he felt your pussy clamp around his cock more upon listening to rain’s words. he had a feeling you were getting excited just from hearing rain’s suggestions. looking directly at you, you gave sodo a haste nod, moaning from the way rain was pounding into you.

that was all the confirmation sodo needed.

“alright then.” sodo confirmed, returning rain’s wicked smirk. “challenge accepted, water boy.”

rain chuckled darkly, and slapped your ass again.

“then let’s do this.”

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#holiday hoes event #ghost bc #rain x reader #sodo x reader #rain x sodo #sodo smut #rain smut #nameless ghoul smut #smutty drabble #the band ghost x reader #the band ghost smut #christmas prompts #christmas

[thelampisaflashlight]

"I love you."

It slips out with the air from his lungs, eyes half lidded, as he threads his fingers through Dew's hair, playing with the pale strands.

Rain doesn't expect a response, but Dew's cheek rubs against his chest, a gentle hum falling from his lips.

"Love you, too."

Love you, too.

That's the first time Dew's ever...

#lamp writes #drabble time #shitghosting #nameless ghouls #rain ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #ghost band #the band ghost #ghost bc #ghost band fanfic #raindrop #rain/dew

[mangomonk]

i caught myself

↳ summary: remus goes to a coffee shop for the first time ↳ content: fluff, oblivious idiots x idiots, coffee shop au, rock band!muggle ↳ a/n: i wanted to write something fun and i've been listening to too much of my punk rock playlists from when i was 15. feel very free to listen to "i caught myself" by paramore (or any paramore song) while reading..! i love portrayals of remus as an earnest loser where the reader/sirius is ridiculously infatuated with his endearingly awkward ways. in other news, i've given up on using 'y/n,' it killed me every time i had to type it so i just chose a random name, feel free to make a mental edit to 'y/n' if you're more comf with that.

It's rush hour when she first sees him. She almost doesn't — it's just her and her coworker today and her eyes are only moving from the cash register's buttons to each cup as she hastily scrawls names and orders onto the plastic.

"Hi, what can I get for you?" She asks half-distractedly as she finishes writing Mocha Cookie Crumble Frappuccino before sliding it over to her coworker with an apologetic look. Frappes are the worse to make, and it doesn't help that the line is nearly to the door now. She almost doesn't look up but the silence to her question is a little too long, so Winnie darts a quick look up, hoping to see no one standing there.

What she's not expecting to see is a man with wide brown eyes and equally brown hair squinting at the menu above her head. Winnie thinks he's the most good-looking man she's ever seen. As she tries to recap the Sharpie, she stabs her own hand. "Shit," she mutters automatically.

"Sorry?" The ridiculously good-looking man asks politely, his gaze flickering from the menu to her. His eyes are the same color as caramelized sugar and Winnie thinks he looks just as sweet as she watches him pull at the frayed collar of his knitted jumper.

"Nothing, nothing," Winnie says with a dismissive hand as she puts on her best customer-service-smile. "What can I get you today?"

His brows furrow as he turns his gaze back to the menu. "What—" he begins, drawing out the word slowly. Winnie takes his hesitation to steal another appreciative glance at him — he's tall, his frame somewhere between lean and lanky, though it's hidden by a jumper that's clearly been knitted to be a few sizes too large for extra comfort. "—would you recommend?"

"Well, what do you normally like?" Winnie asks, casting a glance behind him. As much as she'd love to talk to this cute stranger for the rest of her shift, the line has started to wrap around.

The man rakes a hand through his hair, tousling already-tousled waves of brown. He looks sheepish and a little panicked. "I've never really had coffee before," he admits. A little strange, but Winnie's not one to judge, especially when he's looking at her with deer-in-the-headlight eyes.

"How about I get you my favorite drink then?" She suggests, already reaching for the sharpie and another cup. It's a trick she's learned from working in the coffee shop for the past few months — customers are less likely to be unhappy with their surprise drinks if they think it's your favorite drink.

The man nods, his shoulders sagging with apparent relief. Matcha latte, she scribbles before looking up at him again. "Can I get a name?"

"My name?" He repeats, looking dumbfounded as if she had just asked for his number.

She lifts the cup and shakes it a little to draw his attention to it. "For your order."

"Remus," he says, straightening. He clears his throat. "Remus Lupin."

"Got it," she says as she writes it down. Remus Lupin. She's never had a customer give her a full name before, but Winnie doesn't have time to ponder it as she slides the cup to her coworker. "That'll be $4.50."

He fishes out a $10 and when she tries to hand back the change, he shakes his head with a soft, polite smile.

"Come again," she calls after him, pleased, before turning back to the monstrous line that had managed to form behind him. "I can help the next customer."

— — — — —

The next time she sees him, it's just her behind the counter. Since the rush died down an hour earlier, she's been leaning over the counter squinting at an eight count that she can't quite get right. When the door jingles, Winnie puts down her pencil and moves back behind the register.

"Hi! What can I get for you today?" She asks before she properly looks up. It's the fluffy-haired man from last week. Today he's wearing a scarlet and gold jumper bunched at his wrists and slacks the same brown as his eyes and hair. She doesn't recognize the lion emblem embroidered on his chest — it doesn't match any of the mascots of the nearby universities. When he unwraps his scarf, she can see that his cheeks are flushed red from the cold. It's a good look on him. "Cold outside?"

"Getting there," he says with a soft sigh.

"I can't wait," she says conversationally. "I love autumn."

"Hm," he says, ending the conversation rather abruptly.

Winnie tries not to grimace at the awkward silence as she pulls out her sharpie from the pocket of her apron. "So, what can I get for you today?" When he hesitates for a moment too long, his gaze darting back up to the menu behind her, Winnie tries for conversation again. "How was the matcha latte last time?"

Remus hesitates, his gaze darting to her. "It was very green."

The response is so unexpected that Winnie barely bites back a bark of a laugh before she catches herself. She wasn't a gifted conversationalist, but Remus was making her seem like a total extrovert. "It was," she agrees, smiling now. Up close, she can see shadows below his big eyes. Maybe he needed an espresso? Or less coffee and more sleep. "I'm guessing it wasn't to your taste? I'll let you order today—"

Remus seems to catch himself because he straightens hurriedly. "No, I'll have a matcha latte," he says firmly, already fishing out five dollar bill.

Winnie punches the numbers into the cash register and nods him along, but he hesitates, looking at her expectantly. "Don't you need my name?"

"Not unless it's changed from Remus Lupin," Winnie chirps cheerfully, biting back a smile as he blinks at her rapidly. "Has it?"

"No," he says, clearing his throat. "It's still Remus Lupin."

"Coming right up, Remus Lupin," Winnie says with a mini salute as she turns to start making the drink.

After he leaves, she notices a strange looking coin in the tip jar that hadn't been there before. When she squints at it, she can make out the carved word, Sickle. With raised brows, Winnie slips the strange coin into the pocket of her jeans.

— — — — —

The next time she sees Remus Lupin, he's wearing a long coat over a sweater vest. Winnie thinks he looks like a cute little professor.

"Hi, how's it going—" she's beginning to say just as Remus says choppily, "It's cold outside. Now."

They both blink at each other for a moment before Winnie grins a little, inwardly pleased that he remembered their last conversation. "Yeah?" She turns to squint critically out the window. "On a day like this, I'd kill to be in bed with a warm cup of tea."

Remus nods thoughtfully before pausing. "Not matcha?"

"Matcha strikes me more as a spring-summer drink," she muses.

He nods again, eyes darting to the menu above her head. Winnie is used to this now, so she waits patiently for his order. To her surprise, he looks at her again tentatively, his brown eyes startling bright. It feels as though she's been sucker punched.

"I'm not much of an autumn or winter person," he says. It takes her a moment to realize that he was still referencing their previous conversation. "The cold gets to my joints," he adds, looking a little sheepish.

"Ah," she says dumbly, nodding, before blurting, "Well, did you know that matcha has antioxidant and anti-inflammatory effects?"

Remus blinks at her as though she's clubbed him over the head. "Anti-ox-i-dant," he repeats slowly, as if saying the word for the first time.

Winnie inwardly grimaces. Why was she still talking about matcha? She had been so caught off guard that he was continuing the conversation and that his eyes were stupidly pretty that she had fumbled a little. "Er, so what can I get for you?"

"A cup of matcha then," Remus says, fishing a five dollar bill from his pockets. "For it's anti-ox-i-dant effects."

Winnie's cheeks burn a little as she waves him off. "It's on the house today," she says.

Remus looks surprised as he hesitates. "No, I can pay—"

"No, no, it's on the house," Winnie says firmly, thinking inwardly, For my piss poor attempt at conversation. Before he can insist, she takes her Sharpie and writes Matcha latte, even though it's only her behind the counter today. "Name?" She asks, half-teasing, half-hoping to distract him from trying to pay.

He blinks, looking startled. "Remus Lupin," he answers automatically, straightening.

"Just making sure it hasn't changed," she hums, smiling a little as she gets started on the latte.

To her surprise, Remus laughs, the sound low and rich and warm. "It hasn't yet," he says, glancing down at her name tag for a moment before looking back up at her, his brown eyes wide and bright as he drops the ten dollar bill into the tip jar. "Thank you, Winnie."

Winnie is too stunned by his laugh to complain.

— — — — —

Remus starts to come by more frequently. She can never quite figure out his schedule — it's sporadic, sometimes during rush hour where they can only exchange a few words, but mostly when the coffee shop is empty. She's grown so accustomed — and perhaps, has quickly begun to look forward — to seeing him that she can't help but look up hopefully when someone comes in.

Their conversations at the counter gradually grow less halting. She makes a point to always ask his name and Remus dutifully plays along each time, his lips twitching each time he gives her his name.

"You're always working on music," he observes one day. He must have come in without her realizing because when she looks up, she finds Remus nodding down at her paper.

"I am," she agrees mournfully. "I study music at the local university," she tells him, straightening her apron.

"That suits you," he says with the soft smile that she's grown terribly fond of.

Pleasure warms her chest as she tries not to beam at him. Though their conversations are mostly quiet and simple, it feels as though she's always trying not to smile a full-teeth smile at him.

She learns that he's only recently graduated from some sort of private boarding school. From his vague references, it sounded like one of those preparatory schools for gifted students. It doesn't strike her as much of a surprise — from his responses, Winnie can get a sense for how knowledgeable and bright he is, though to be fair, he always seems to bring a new book in when he visits. It might also explain how awkward and closed off Remus is, Winnie decides — she thinks public schools build thick skin. Winnie doesn't really mind the occasionally halting conversations though — Remus, for his credit, is a wonderful listener and always asks her questions when she talks about her band. And something about the attentive way Remus looks at her makes her feel comfortable about talking. She's almost worried that she talks too much — it's a welcome reprieve from the quiet slowness or the repetitive "Hi, how are you?'s" of the coffee shop.

"Sorry," she says one day when she brings him his drink. "I realize that I talk your ear off whenever you're here and I'm sure you've got things to do, books to read."

Remus shakes his head, sending his fluffy brown hair falling against his brow. It's gotten longer since the first time she's met him, the ends beginning to curl down the nape of his neck and around his ears. It's a good look on him, though admittedly, Winnie finds herself thinking that whenever he comes in.

"It's no problem," Remus says easily. Winnie nods, about to return to the counter when he clears his throat. "I... enjoy your company," he says with an impossibly tiny smile. At the sight of it, Winnie wants to fall to the floor, but she hasn't mopped it yet, so she opts to stand perfectly still instead. "If you ever feel inclined to take a break to chat, the chair is always open."

Some days when the shop isn't too busy, she takes him on his offer to sit and chat. Some days their conversations are long and winding, about nothing in particular, and on some days — mostly the days where he looks strangely exhausted — they both sit in a comfortable silence with Remus reading his books and Winnie laboring over her music.

One day when she's put all her focus on composing, Winnie nearly jumps out of her skin when Remus speaks up. "New song?"

Winnie looks up from her sheets at his question. A little thrill runs through her body when she sees that his book has been discarded to the side as he looks at her curiously. "Old song," she sighs. "I've been trying to finish these lyrics," she says, giving a frustrated glare to the paper. "I wanted to finish it in time for my band's next show, but I can't seem to get anywhere good with it."

Remus hums thoughtfully. "What's it about?"

"It's a love song," Winnie says before thinking. She darts a quick look at Remus as her ears burn, but fortunately, he's looking down at her lyrics thoughtfully. To be fair, she reasons with herself, she had started writing it before meeting Remus. "I've been stuck for ages now though."

"Hmm," Remus hums, leaning back in his chair to stretch his lithe limbs before letting his arms settle on his head. It's an effortlessly attractive motion — Winnie tries not to stare. "I'm sure you've tried already, but maybe you can draw inspiration from experience?"

Winnie clears her throat. "Oh, er, well, I actually don't really have..." She falters, feeling her cheeks burn. She's undeniably red now. "—experience in that realm," she finishes lamely.

"Ah," Remus makes a sound, his eyes widening a fraction as he re-rights himself to sit up straight in his chair. "Sorry, I just figured that you... That there'd be..." He stops himself, looking sheepish.

"That I what?" She presses, arching her brow to deflect from her reddening face.

"I just thought that you'd have experience in relationships," Remus coughs, his cheeks pink now. It's cute enough that it nearly distracts her from the mortifying conversation they're having.

"Ah, no," she says, swallowing. Then she adds hurriedly, darting a glance at him, "It's not that I don't want to date. It's just the type of guy I've attracted in the past has always been—" Winnie cuts off her rambling abruptly as Remus leans forward, brown eyes trained on hers.

"Has been what?"

"Oh, I don't know," she mumbles, scrubbing a hand over her face, grimacing. "You know, tattoos, eats cigs for breakfast. Maybe my nose ring gives the wrong impression," she lets out an embarrassed laugh, wishing that the ground would open up and swallow her whole to stop her nonsensical babbling.

"I see," Remus says slowly in a tone that very much sounded like he didn't.

"What about you?" She blurts. Remus looks startled, so she shoulders onwards. It feels as though she has nothing left to lose, anyways. "I'm sure you were popular in school."

"Ah," he says, making a noise at the back of his throat. He rubs the nape of his neck, looking embarrassed as he looks down as his discarded book. She bets he wished he never stopped reading. "Not really," he says. "I was always busy with school and, er, other things, so I never..." He trails off, making a vague motion with his hands. "Yeah," he finishes lamely.

"That's a surprise," Winnie says, inwardly relieved that he wasn't dating anyone. "I'm sure you had plenty of admirers."

Remus smiles at her wryly, a flash of embarrassment flickering across his face. "My mates had plenty of admirers," he says, though not enviously. Winnie waits patiently for him to continue — one thing she's gathered from Remus was that he often deflected talking about himself through talking about his friends. Sirius, Peter, James, she had learned were their names. "Sirius, in fact, was plenty popular." He darts a strange look to her, his brows knitted together and contemplative. "You'd get along well with him, I reckon."

— — — — —

Another day, during rush hour. She can see him waiting in the long line stealing glances at her that sends her heart stuttering. When their gaze meets, she offers him an apologetic smile. Remus just returns her smile and shakes his head, sending his hair down across his brow.

When he finally reaches the counter, he doesn't leave her any time to say hello. "I have a mate," Remus starts, pausing long enough for her to raise a brow.

"A mate," she drawls, trying to decode the peculiar expression on his face. He's visibly hesitating, his brow furrowing and relaxing as if he's overcoming some inner dilemma. Winnie waits patiently.

"A mate," he says again, rubbing the base of his neck. "That wants to learn how to play the guitar."

"I see," Winnie says slowly, patiently.

"It's Sirius — my friend that I told you about before," he adds, not quite looking at her but not quite looking away either. "Obviously, you can say no, but I thought that since you played the guitar, that maybe you'd...?"

Winnie thinks about it for a moment, an idea forming in her mind. She felt a twinge of guilt briefly for having an ulterior motive, before reasoning with herself that she was about to give a free guitar lesson. "I can give him an intro lesson," she says. "But only because he's your good friend."

Remus relaxes, his face breaking into a smile that only makes her feel better about her choice. Lord, she thinks, her eyes tracking his dimple. She thinks if he smiled like that at her, she'd do anything. "Brilliant," he beams.

A customer behind him clears her throat meaningfully, jolting Winnie out of the conversation. She had entirely forgotten she was working.

"So, a matcha latte?" She asks loudly. When she looks back at him, she's expecting him to sport his normal embarrassed half-smile, but she's caught off guard to see him grinning at her roguishly. Remus never fails to surprise her.

Remus nods, clearly trying not to laugh as he fishes out a bill. Winnie goes through the motions of punching in the numbers and preparing the cup. "We can do it at my flat, I have an extra guitar," she tells him as she finishes his order.

Remus smiles and nods, turning to leave when a thought occurs to her. "Oh, and Remus?" She calls after him.

He whirls around, brows arched and eyes wide and attentive. "Hmm?"

"You'll be there right?"

"Me?" Remus blurts, looking startled.

Winnie bites back a sigh. As she expected. Doubling down, she nods. "I'm not going to let a random man into my flat," she tells him, brows arching. She tries to ignore the customer behind him huffing impatiently.

Remus hesitates. "Sirius isn't a random man." Despite herself, Winnie likes this stubborn side of him.

"I've never met him," she sniffs, jutting her chin out mulishly.

"So you'll feel better if there's two random men in your house?" He counters archly.

But Winnie had been expecting this. She gives him a smile. Remus blinks, looking startled as any semblance of resistance dissipates. "You're not just a random man," she says meaningfully.

Remus blinks again. Then he turns, clearing his throat as he begins wrapping his scarf around his neck. Winnie thinks she can see a pink flush crawl up his neck before he covers it with a scarf, but she might just be seeing what she wants to see. "I'll be there," Remus says gruffly with a stiff nod.

Winnie mimics his stiff nod and bites back a smile.

"Thank you for waiting," she says to the next customer with her best customer-service-smile.

Before Remus returns for his drink, Winnie makes a split-second decision to write her number on a napkin. The idea has her stomach doing a dangerous, giddy flip in her stomach, but she does it anyways and slips it under his drink waiting on the counter.

— — — — —

The next three weeks is grueling for two reasons. The first is that she doesn't see Remus once, despite taking extra shifts. The second is because she waits for a phone call that never comes.

She's never given her number to anyone before so she doesn't quite know what the socially acceptable amount of time is before getting a call, but after the first five days of radio silence and his absence in the coffee shop, she's sure that she's made a terrible mistake.

She feels embarrassed and a little foolish, wishing she hadn't gotten swept up in her hopes and his stupid brown eyes. She had been silly — she was just an overly-chatty local barista and he was just a nice customer with a nice smile and nice eyes and nice everything who put up with her rambling. It's a little mortifying to think back on, so Winnie tries not to think about it, though every time the door's bell jingles, she's caught in a vicious cycle of hope, disappointment, and embarrassment.

She reckons that if he did ever come back, she'd either just pretend as though she never gave him her number or she'd hide in the storage room. The latter option sounded the most appealing the longer she went without seeing him.

She's closing up the shop one night when the door bursts open, the bells jingling loudly. Startled, Winnie nearly drops the bucket she had just finished mopping with. Her heart drops to her stomach.

"Hi," Remus says, pink-cheeked and breathless. "Are you closed?"

Winnie stares at him wide-eyed. She has a brief irrational flash of self-consciousness as she holds a mop and bucket in her hands, her hair and makeup unruly after a long shift. "I—" Winnie bites the inside of her cheek, looking at the clock. She was just a local barista, and he was just a customer, she reminded herself, swallowing back the growing burn of embarrassment in her belly.

As if sensing her hesitation, Remus straightens, clearing his throat. "I mean, you don't have to make a drink or anything actually, I just—"

"I can make a quick drink before I close up," Winnie says hurriedly, not quite able to look him in the eyes as she moves behind the counter. Memories of her giving him her number is seared in memory and it takes all her willpower not to crumble in mortification in front of him.

"No, it's alright," Remus says hurriedly, following her. "I'll help you close up."

"No, go sit over there," Winnie says, her voice a little too clipped. Remus hesitates, floundering before stubbornly following her again. Too close. She whirls around on him, exasperated and embarrassed. Pride wounded. "Remus, I'll make your drink just—"

"Winnie," he cuts in softly, his eyes tracking over her face carefully, quick to pick up her emotions. Winnie diverts her eyes mulishly. "I didn't actually come for a drink today," he says in a patient tone that only amplifies her growing embarrassment that she hides under irritation.

"Then I'm guessing you came to mess with a small local business," she grumps unfairly to herself, stomping behind the counter to drop the mop and bucket into the storage closet. Remus follows her doggedly.

"No, that's not why either," he says, huffing out a good natured laugh. Winnie ignores how smooth and honeyed it sounds.

"Then why'd you come so late? Seeing as how you haven't come in the past three—" Winnie cuts herself off, mortified, before stalking past him to busy herself with wiping down the counter.

"That's exactly why I came," Remus says from behind her. "I haven't seen you in three weeks and I wanted to see how you were doing."

Winnie swallows, caught off guard by his straightforwardness. And then she continues to scrub the counter aggressively, refusing to turn around and be swayed by him, though she could feel her grievances begin to dissipate. "Well, you could have called," she grumbles pointedly.

"I, er, don't have a telephone."

"You don't have a telephone," Winnie repeats automatically, before turning to balk at him. He looks embarrassed, his fingers fidgeting compulsively with the sleeves of his lumpy cardigan. In disbelief, she squints at him suspiciously. "Listen, Remus, I really won't be offended if you weren't interested, so there's no need to make up an excuse—"

"It's not an excuse," Remus interjects, straightened. He looks visibly affronted, his lips twisting into a slight frown. "I don't have a telephone."

"Oh," Winnie says dumbly, her voice small. And then she frowns, still skeptical. "How do you get into contact with your friends? Carrier pigeon?"

Remus lets out a huff of a laugh, mirth flickering in his brown eyes. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

For some reason, she believes him, so she drops it. It's probably the warm fondness in his eyes that neutralizes her. "I see," she says finally, unsure about whether to feel disappointed or relieved.

Remus seems to notice because he clears his throat. "I would have called you, really," he says. He's looking at her with those brown eyes again, big and earnest, and Winnie can't help but stare.

Flustered with the way he was looking at her, she turns to grab a tray of milk cartons. "I thought you were ghosting me," she grumbles. "I mean, I give you my number, you don't call and stop showing up. What's a girl supposed to think?"

Remus follows her, even closer now, close enough that she can smell his cologne — he smells good, she notes distractedly — and gently takes the tray of milk cartons from her hand, his big hands enclosing over hers briefly. Winnie nearly drops the whole tray. "You're not getting paid for that," she says, flustered and embarrassed and—

—and Remus is smiling at her with an impossibly patient and endeared smile, the sort that softens his eyes into little half-moons. Lord, Winnie thinks, her mind going unhelpfully blank as any memory of her mortification fades quickly.

"I would have called you," he says again, turning to look at her properly. He clears his throat, his eyes snagging on to hers intently. "I wanted to call you." He's holding the tray of cartons and she's trapped in the corner and the whole thing feels a little ridiculous, especially with the way her heart is stuttering under his gaze. He steps closer, his shoulders curving over slightly as he tries to match her height to appear less imposing. "I'm sorry for not giving you a heads up — I got swept away for work, but I'll let you know next time that happens."

"There's no need," she mumbles, flushing now. God, he probably didn't even know what he was doing. "It's not like we're..." The words die on her lips. She doesn't really know what she wants to say. Were they friends? She sure hoped so, but she could see how she was just a local barista and he was just a regular.

Remus ducks his head a little so that they're looking at each other properly again. They're close enough that Winnie can see his long lashes fluttering across his cheeks. She can see the splay of freckles across his tan skin. The thin shadow of a scar across the bridge of his nose. It's like she can't escape as her mind goes unhelpfully blank again. His eyes are warm and apologetic and earnest and Winnie feels like she's being seen right through. "How can I make it up to you?" He asks, looking entirely sincere.

Winnie's mouth — her heart — moves before her mind does. "My show," she blurts.

His brows furrow ever so slightly. "Your show?" He repeats, understandably not following because she was barely coherent.

"Yes," she says, straightening and doubling down. "I'm having a small show. With my band. This weekend. You should come." God, Winnie thinks, grimacing at how choppy her words were. Remus is looking at her with those distractingly pretty eyes again, so she steels herself, taking a steadying breath. "I mean, I'd love it if you came."

Remus nods, his lips twitching as if she hadn't just given an awful word-by-word monologue. "I'd love to."

— — — — —

The venue isn't terribly large, but even on stage staring into a dark crowd of faces, Winnie can spot Remus immediately. That's how she knew she was in trouble. Well, maybe she had already known she was in trouble the first time she heard Remus laugh properly.

She's had shows before, but this one feels different. It feels as though it's only her and Remus. So as Winnie plays her guitar and sings her songs, she gives in to the enamored thrill blossoming in her chest and pours it into her music. She hopes he can hear it.

The show passes by in a euphoric blur. All Winnie can really remember is Remus beaming at her from the crowd — and her beaming back — but she thinks it went well. Backstage, her bandmates are energetic and grinning widely, clasping each other on the back. "One of our best," their drummer proclaims, cheering.

Winnie tries to smile and listen, but the excitement of the show has started to turn into a bundle of growing nerves as she waits backstage with her bandmates.

"Waiting for someone today?" Doreen, their bassist, asks astutely as she starts moving some of their equipment.

"No," Winnie blurts unconvincingly, only gathering delighted hoots from the others.

"I knew this one felt different for a reason—" Doreen shouts gleefully, before falling silently abruptly, her eyes falling on someone behind Winnie. It takes all of her willpower to look casual and not whirl around. "Oh. He looks like he should be in a band," Doreen's voice drops into a hushed whisper. "Can we please add him? He can... play the triangle or something. He can be the face of our band. Our new mascot—"

At this, Winnie frowns and turns around. She wouldn't exactly say that Remus, with his soft jumpers and fluffy hair, looked like he'd be the face of a rock band—

"Hi," A voice, smooth and pitched low, says. "Winnie, right?"

Winnie stares at this stranger uncomprehendingly. He's strikingly handsome, his eyes the color of mercury and his hair the color of ink. He's all sharp angles and perfectly unruly curls and devilish smile, the type that Winnie has seen before. It comes with the crowd a rock band attracts, though this man in particular looks as though he was carved out of marble with his aquiline nose and high cheekbones.

Winnie blinks at him. "Yeah," she says uncertainly, scratching her cheek. "Er, do we know each other?"

"Winnie, this is Sirius," a familiar voice cuts in from behind the dark-haired man. Winnie straightens, her eyes snagging immediately on him as he steps out from behind Sirius.

Unlike Sirius's leather jacket and tattoos, Remus looks so painfully out of place in his sweater vest and slacks. She's impossibly endeared at the sight — in fact, all she can really do is stare dumbly at him. He's holding a little bouquet of yellow flowers. Her heart gives a dangerous squeeze.

Doreen clears her throat, jolting her out of her fixation. Winnie tears her eyes away from him to give his friend a polite smile as she shakes his hand. "Hi there." Distractedly, she turns back to look at Remus. "I didn't know you were going to bring a friend—"

"We love friends," Doreen says brightly. Winnie bites back a laugh at Doreen's lovesick scheming as her gaze snags on to Remus again. "Friends are always welcome here."

"I've heard loads about you," Sirius says smoothly, flashing her a charming smile. She swears she can hear Doreen faint next to her. "Remus, in fact, doesn't ever stop—"

Winnie's stomach does an Olympic-gymnastic-level flip as she watches Remus indiscreetly dig his elbow into Sirius's ribs. Sirius seems unbothered, but he stops and gives Winnie a smarmy grin.

"How was the show?" She asks, her gaze darting to Remus. It's like she can't stop looking at him.

"Brilliant," he blurts, beaming. "Absolutely brilliant. You were amazing," he says, eyes bright. "I mean, I knew you loved music, but seeing you in your element..." He stops abruptly, looking embarrassed. She isn't sure if it's the lighting, but his cheeks look pink. Or it's a reflection of how red her face has turned. Pleasure blooms in her chest so violently she feels a little dizzy.

"I'm glad you liked it," she manages, uncharacteristically bashful. She can feel her bandmates staring at her, slack-faced, and forces herself to ignore it. "I wasn't sure if it would be your type of music, but..."

"No, it was," Remus says hurriedly, turning to look at Sirius. "Right?"

Sirius nods, looking between the two of them with great interest. "Remus was practically on his knees—" Another jab into his ribs.

Winnie bites back a laugh, flushed and pleased, before nodding down at the bouquet in his hands. "Are those for me?" She asks, half-bluntly, half-hopefully.

Remus looks down at his hands as if he only just then remembered what he was holding. "Oh, yeah, yeah," he says. Winnie thinks she's dreaming for a moment, until Remus thrusts it into Sirius's hands. "They're from Sirius."

She blinks. Sirius blinks, an equally baffled expression on his face though he covers it up quickly. "Oh," the dark-haired man says slowly, his silver gaze flickering to his friend. "I guess—"

"—as a thank you for agreeing to the lesson," Remus cuts in hurriedly as Sirius hands it to her uncertainly.

Winnie takes the bouquet, bewildered now, but she plasters a polite smile on her face. "Er, it's no problem at all," she says, unsure about whether to say that to Sirius or Remus.

Sirius takes it in a stride though. "I would kill to play the guitar like you," he says, voice dripping with charisma. "How'd you—"

"You can try my bass, if you'd like," Doreen interrupts from behind her. Winnie's jaw goes a little slack — Doreen's the most protective with her bass — but her bandmate shoots her a meaningful look.

"Brilliant," Sirius says brightly. Winnie turns to watch Doreen in disbelief as they disappear into the backroom.

"Now he's not a random man, right?" Remus murmurs to her, his breath coasting against the shell of her ear. She nearly jumps out of her skin at the proximity.

"I suppose not," she says, trying to keep her cool but Remus is looking at her with bright eyes. It doesn't help when his lips quirk triumphantly, smugly. "But—" she interjects before it can widen any further, "—if it turns out that your friend is horrendous at the guitar, I think it's only fair if you also have to suffer through it."

Remus's brows shoot up. "And if he's good at it?"

"Then you get to witness my masterful teaching."

He huffs out a laugh, a little disbelieving, a little amused. "Fine," Remus sighs, but he's clearly trying not to smile. She finds herself wishing that he did. "I'll be there."

— — — — —

Sirius, as it turns out, is awful at the guitar. Winnie tries to chalk it up to it being his first time trying it out, but even then, he seemed... challenged.

She had been teaching him for an hour now — her sitting on one of the kitchen stools she had pulled into her flat's shoebox of a living room-bedroom situation, Sirius sitting on the couch with her old guitar precariously balanced on his knees. Remus tried to excuse himself once he realized his friend was musically challenged. Feeling merciful — and also realizing that Remus's presence was making her too nervous to focus on teaching Sirius — Winnie nodded him towards the kitchen. She had spent all morning meticulously cleaning her flat — even she knew she was being a little ridiculous and overly nervous when she started scrubbing at the oven — in preparation for the session. Even then, the knowledge that Remus was in her flat filled her with a different type of nerves.

"Let's take a break," Winnie huffs finally, setting her guitar down.

Sirius rises to his feet and stretches, looking relieved. "I'll get some water for us?" He offers, already making himself at home. Winnie nods, waving him off as she tries to fight back the incoming migraine from stressing over Sirius snapping her strings. At the reminder of his hand-eye coordination and all the glass she has in her cupboards, she springs to her feet quickly.

"Maybe I should just charm the guitar," Sirius is murmuring when she walks in to the kitchen.

"No amount of charisma will charm the guitar," Winnie says, amused. The boys straighten, looking strangely guilty.

"But Sirius is particularly charming," Remus supplies abruptly, darting a quick look to Sirius, who just looks startled by his friend's sudden proclamation.

"I see," Winnie says slowly, exchanging a baffled glance with Sirius.

"Right, well, I ought to practice some more then," Sirius says, giving a salute as he leaves the kitchen.

"Is he that bad?" Remus asks once Sirius leaves.

"It's like he's never used his hands before a day in his life to do anything," Winnie whispers to Remus with a solemn nod.

Remus makes a choking sound as though he's trying not to laugh. Winnie wishes he did. "You don't know the half of it," he huffs, lips curling as if he's sharing a secret.

"He's not really not very good with his fingers," Winnie admits honestly, lifting her cup to her lips.

"That's not his reputation among the girls," Remus blurts.

Winnie chokes on her water and starts coughing violently. Alarmed, Remus reaches out and pats her on the back. "What?" She rasps around a sore throat as she turns to give Remus an incredulous look.

His expression is too carefully neutral as he shrugs at her. "Sirius has always been Hogwart's most sought after bachelor," he recites, as if she's supposed to know what this meant.

"What's going on, Remus?" Winnie questions, her brows shooting up higher. "You've been acting strange recently. It's like you're trying to sell me this poor boy or..." She falters, turning to look at Remus. To his credit, he looks sheepish as he looks away to inspect her cabinets. "Remus," she begins, her voice dangerously low. "Please tell me you're not trying to set me up with your friend."

Remus goes pink in the face and it's all she needs to confirm her suspicions. Inwardly, her heart drops a little, but outwardly, she just stares at him, waiting for a proper response. As if realizing there wasn't a way of getting out of this, the brown-haired boy sighs a little, raking a hand through his hair. "I just thought you two would get along well together," he says, looking at her with earnest eyes.

It hurts. Much more than she cares to admit. Trying to swallow back the disappointment, Winnie turns so that he can't see it on her face. So that's what this has been about. "For how long?" She asks, her throat dry. She can feel a headache coming on.

"How long what?" Remus asks. He sounds confused.

"How long have you been thinking about setting us up? Did he even want to learn the guitar?" Winnie thinks back to Remus's reluctance on coming to her flat. She thinks back to him bringing Sirius along to the concert. She thinks about how much she likes Remus and how she thought he felt the same way. So it had all been one sided. Humiliation burns in her stomach as she stares down at her hands.

"No, he did, he did want to learn how to play the guitar," he says quickly. "Or, er, he was interested in learning after I told him about you. Sirius is a great guy, really!" Remus, all too late, seems to sense something amiss when she doesn't respond. He straightens, an expression of growing alarm on his face. "Are you... upset?"

"No," Winnie says. She wasn't, for once. In fact, she just wanted the ground to open up and swallow her hole. "I'm just..." She trails off, pinching the bridge of her nose before exhaling quietly.

"Sirius is a great guy, I promise," Remus says again, slowly as if not to spook a wild animal. But Winnie has already been spooked.

"Yeah, he is," she says, her voice pitched just slightly too high and just slightly too clipped as she turns to flee the kitchen. "But not very great at the guitar, so I'd better go check up on him. I suspect he'd find a way to set fire to my flat with just a guitar."

"I'm an idiot," she mutters to herself, closing her eyes for a moment.

A cheerful voice chirps up from the couch. "So, when can I join your band?"

— — — — —

Winnie doesn't go to work for the rest of the week. She asks her coworkers to cover her shift with a fake cough and a groan of a headache. The headache part isn't really a lie — ever since her conversation with Remus in her kitchen, she's felt a dull ache drumming behind her eyes. So she's holed herself in her apartment — specifically her bed, under lots of blankets — sulking and moping by herself.

By the fifth day, Winnie realizes bitterly that she can't keep this up. She has rent to pay. On the day that she's decided to come back into the coffee shop, her phone rings. "Winnie, are you coming in today?" her coworker asks.

"Yeah, I'm feeling better," Winnie lies as she stuffs her apron into her bag.

"Great," her coworker says before pausing. "There's been a bloke coming by asking for you."

Winnie can feel the headache come back full force. "A bloke," she repeats, knowing full well they both knew who she was talking about.

"Tall, brown hair. I told him you've been out sick, but he seems worried, so you ought to give him a ring."

To her chagrin, Remus is there the first day she comes back.

"Hi, welcome," she says, her voice tight. Winnie plasters a too-bright smile on her face to compensate. "What can I get for you today?"

Remus blinks. "A matcha latte. How have—"

"Coming right up," she says, punching in the order with rapid speed. Still smiling brightly. "That'll be $4.50—"

Remus hands her a five before she can finish.

"Here's your change, sir—" Winnie tacks it on at the end of the sentence before she can help it. Remus's face crumples in confusion for a moment, his brow furrowing together as he watches her for a moment longer. It feels as though his eyes are burning through her.

"You can keep the change," he says softly, still looking at her.

Winnie forces out a thank you. She feels as though her smile is starting to look like a grimace. Her cheeks are hurting. He's still looking at her with those stupidly pretty brown eyes. She knows he's waiting. She forces herself to look back down at the register before straightening. "Next in line, please."

— — — — —

To her relief, she's not on cash register duty the next time he comes. Winnie ducks her head with forced concentration as she makes an order. She's definitely too concentrated on making the drink that she doesn't notice the way his face brightens again when he sees her as he nears the counter. She's definitely too concentrated to hear her coworker take his order of a matcha latte. She's definitely too concentrated to feel his eyes on her as she busies herself behind the counter. She definitely wasn't paying attention.

This game of concentration can only go on for so long, Winnie realizes belatedly after she finishes making his drink. She stares down at his name on the cup glumly for a moment before putting her best customer-service smile back on. "For Remus," she calls out without quite looking up. Though she knows that he's sitting patiently at his normal table.

When he comes, Winnie puts a straw on the lid, trying not to look as tense as she feels.

"Hi," he says, looking at her fully in the face.

"Hi," she says back, not quite looking at him, but also not quite looking away. This time, there's no line and nowhere to escape to.

Remus fiddles with the straw wrapper slowly. "How..." He falters, his eyes imploring as he tries to catch her gaze. His brows are furrowed slightly. "...have you been? They said you've been ill?"

"Ah yeah," Winnie says weakly, busying herself with tidying up the straws and napkins by the register. "Caught a cold."

"It's not Dragon Pox, is it?" He says, his brows furrowing even further, a crease of concern between them.

Winnie blinks at him. "Dragon Pox?"

Remus blinks back at her. "Oh, maybe not then," he murmurs hurriedly before clearing his throat. "Er, if you're still feeling ill, I have this—" He reaches into the pocket of his long coat and pulls out a small vial. Winnie stares at it blankly. "—that helps with cold symptoms."

She squints at it, dubiously. "Is that medicine?"

Remus fiddles with the little glass vial. "Something of the sort."

"You just carry that around... in your pocket?"

"Well no," Remus says, looking embarrassed now. He clears his throat as his eyes dart down to the vial. "I wanted to give it to you, but I thought that dropping it off at your flat might be too much."

"Oh," Winnie says dumbly. Her stomach does a traitorous flip and she forces herself to also look down at the vial as her last defenses against him begin to crumble. She should've known this was going to happen. "That's sweet of you."

"It's nothing," he mumbles, setting the vial on the table. "Er, are you busy today?"

Winnie swallows. "Yeah, I've been out, so I ought to pull my weight around here," she says, though she thinks the both of them knows that it's a lie. The coffee shop barely had anyone else in it. But Winnie doesn't look up at him to see his face fall — she knows that if he just flashes her his doe eyes, she'll be back at square one. She forces a smile on her face.

Remus nods. His disappointment is clear on his face as he stuffs his hand back into the pocket of his coat. Winnie tried not to think about it. "Right, well, I'll be over there if you need a break."

— — — — —

Her landline rings again for the third time in the past fives minutes as she tries to get the chord progression correct. Though she's been trying, she's hit an even bigger music-block recently. Winnie squints at the number — it's the same one that's been trying to dial her. With a frustrated sigh, she sets her guitar to the side and picks up the receiver from the landline with a little too much vigor. "Hello?" She asks, the irritation in her voice cutting through clearly.

"Winnie?"

She pauses, taken aback. "This is she," she says after a moment. Who would be calling her nearly at midnight?

"Sorry, were you sleeping? I just got a telephone and I wanted to call, but I didn't realize it was this late—" The person on the other end sounds a little out of breath.

"Sorry, who is this?" She asks, bewildered now.

A pause. "It's Remus."

Winnie nearly drops the phone. "Remus?" She repeats.

"Yeah," he says uncertainly. "Remus Lupin," he adds, as if that'll help.

"Of course I know who you are," she says, a little disbelieving.

"You didn't sound like you did a few seconds ago," he says good-naturedly.

"Well, I wasn't expecting a call from someone without a phone."

He huffs out a laugh, soft and quiet. Hearing it close to her ear through the receiver makes a warmth spread through her chest. This was dangerous. She settles back on the couch as Remus continues talking, his voice soft like he's trying not to wake up his flatmate. "Well, to be fair, I did just get it."

"I never thought I'd see the day," she murmurs despite the danger bells tolling in her head. "What made you take the technological leap?"

Winnie can almost hear his eye roll through the receiver. "Well, I may have offended a girl at this coffee shop I frequent by not having one. Thought I should right my wrongs."

Her heart stutters dangerously in her chest. She's glad he can't see her because she can feel a pleased warmth flushing across her face as she lies down on the couch and kicks her legs over the armchair. She wants to scream from the giddiness. And then scream again for having no dignity. The thought that he had gotten a phone to call her is entirely absurd, but Winnie almost lets herself believe it. "I see," she says after she collects herself for a moment. "Sounds noble." A pause. "So you kept my napkin."

"No," Remus says automatically. "Sirius threw it away."

Winnie frowns, her brows furrowing. "Then how'd you get my number?"

"I memorized it."

She nearly falls to the floor at that, the phone rubbing against the couch as she sits up swiftly.

"Hello?" Remus's distant voice calls uncertainly through the speaker. "Winnie?"

"Hi!" Winnie chirps into the phone quickly, too brightly. She's beyond glad Remus can't see her face — she knows she's bright red now. And she's trying hard not to grin ear to ear. "Sorry about that, poor connection," she fibs.

Remus pauses. She can almost hear the frown in his voice when he speaks up again. "Is it my phone? The man at the store said it might—"

"No, no, that was on my end," she says quickly, fanning herself now. She needed to calm down. Immediately. "So, why did you call?"

A pause. She can hear him shuffling like he's sitting down. "No reason," he says. "I just wanted to hear your voice. I like this. It feels like I can hear you smiling."

To hell with calming down. She was getting no sleep that night with the way her heart was palpitating. "Holy hell," Winnie murmurs out loud, very sure now that Remus was trying to kill her. Death by heart attack. Remus Lupin, the secret ladykiller.

"What was that?" Remus asks through the phone.

"Nothing," Winnie mumbles, closing her eyes.

They both fall silent, though Winnie is sure he can hear her thumping heart through the receiver. "Er, Winnie," Remus speaks up finally. "The other reason I wanted to call was I suppose it had felt like it's been ages since we last spoke and I missed talking with you."

Winnie's heart does a dangerous quiver. And then she catches herself, all too soon, and all too suddenly.

Even after the past few weeks of trying to get over her unrequited crush, all it took was a few sweet words from him for her to cave and start at the beginning again. She couldn't keep being pushed and pulled and pushed and pulled. If she wanted to properly move on, she needed distance. Proper distance.

As if sensing something, Remus speaks up again hesitantly. "Did I do something?"

"No," Winnie says, closing her eyes. She can almost hear him breathing on the other end of the call. This would be easier to do over the phone, when she can't see his big brown eyes staring back at her earnestly — although she feels as though she's committed it to memory and can imagine it. "It's me, I— It's nothing that you've done or anything, I just need space."

"Space," Remus echoes quietly.

She tries to let out a light laugh. "Yeah, I've just got a lot on my mind recently. It's nothing you've done."

Remus is quiet for awhile before he speaks up again. "I'm here to listen if you ever want to talk through anything," he says softly. "We're friends, after all, right?"

"Friends," she murmurs to herself before straightening. "Right, of course."

More silence. "Well, it's late so I'll let you go." A pause, as if he's waiting for a response. Waiting for her to keep talking like she always did. Waiting for a reason to keep talking.

"Good night, Remus," she says instead, her fingers tightening around the receiver.

"Good night, Winnie." Winnie can hear the disappointment in his voice and lets it sink into her like a dagger. She needed to remember it to move on. Then maybe they could properly be friends. Winnie hangs up the phone first.

— — — — —

"Morning, Winnie," a bright voice chirps.

Winnie looks up, startled to see a pair of striking, but familiar gray eyes peering back at her. Sirius Black is standing in front of the counter, grinning at her widely. "Sirius," she says, surprised. "What can I get for you?"

Sirius gives the menu a cursory glance. "Huh, matcha," he says to himself thoughtfully.

"That's what Remus normally gets," she offers, trying to be helpful.

Sirius looks back at her, his eyes bright and startling astute. "You know," he says, dropping his voice to a secretive murmur. Despite herself, Winnie leans closer curiously. "Remus thinks matcha tastes like grass."

Winnie recoils, bewildered. That wasn't what she was expecting to hear. "Grass?" She repeats, a little affronted now. "It does not taste like grass—"

"Winnie," he says again, arching a delicate brow at her. "Remus thinks matcha tastes like grass."

She shoots him a baleful glare that goes against her customer service training. "Okay," she exhales. "So what drink would you want then?"

Sirius sighs as if she's being terribly daft. "What I'm saying is that Remus hates the taste of matcha but comes here nearly every other day to drink it. Isn't that strange?"

Winnie blinks. Once. Twice. It's as if Sirius can see the thought forming on her face because he starts to grin. "But," she says stubbornly, mulishly. Sirius's grin falters. Winnie takes secret pleasure in that. "—he drinks it every time."

Sirius's expression goes slack, but Winnie refuses to be deterred. She had already tricked herself twice into thinking that there could be more between her and Remus, she wasn't going to put herself through that again. "Merlin," Sirius exhales, scrubbing a frustrated hand over his face. "You both are so bloody stubborn—"

"No, he doesn't," a voice cuts in from behind her. Her coworker steps in with an equally exasperated expression. "Winnie, I'll be honest with you, he only ever drinks it when you make it. Whenever I hand it to him, it just sits there."

Sirius's grin returns, full force, as he nods excitedly. "I'm only telling you so that you can both stop dancing around each other. And so he can stop playing your bleeding cas— casserole... Merlin, what are they called? The little magical music squares?" Sirius flounders and turns to her coworker for help.

"Cassettes?" Her coworker supplies uncertainly.

"Cassettes!" Sirius agrees, looking relieved before he rounds on Winnie again to continue his berating. "So he can stop playing your bleeding cassettes around the flat!" And then he pauses. "Er, no offense, your music is great, but I just can't keep listening to the same album—"

"He has my cassettes?" Winnie whispers, wide-eyed.

Sirius stares at her like she's being impossibly dumb. "Yeah," he says, solemnly. "Everyday I'm a little tempted to throw them—" He seems to catch himself because he shoulders on smoothly. "Anyways, while he's been sulking around the flat, I finally found out that Moony was being ridiculous and was trying to play cupid. He can be incredibly dense for someone so smart," Sirius sighs, grimacing. "By the way, I actually was interested in learning the guitar."

Winnie stares at him dumbly, a little shell-shocked. "Oh," she says as Sirius gives her a wink.

"He's coming by later," he says as he turns towards the door.

"What?" She blurts. Remus hasn't come by or called her ever since she had asked for space, expectedly. She had been ignoring the empty feeling since then, reasoning it to be a necessary development for her to move on.

"I told him you had called on the — what's it called? — phone-tele saying you wanted to see him."

"What?" Winnie exclaims, but Sirius is already fleeing through the door. Dimly, she thinks that he didn't even order a drink.

"Go easy on him, sweetheart! He likes tea!"

— — — — —

"One matcha please."

"Name?"

A small, uncertain smile. A hesitant hint of a dimple. Her heart quaking again. "Remus Lupin."

"Coming right up."

Winnie tries to still her shaking hands as she makes him a drink. It doesn't help that she can feel her heart bursting through her chest. She takes a steadying breath and rakes a hand through her hair before taking the drink to his table. "For a Remus Lupin," she announces, setting the cup down in front of him. It's near closing time and there's no one else in the coffee shop.

Remus looks up, his brows shooting up below his waves. "What's this?"

"Earl gray," she says, matching his gaze.

His brows furrow. "But I ordered matcha."

"It's a personal recommendation from the kitchen," she says, nodding down at the tea. "I heard that matcha tastes like grass."

Remus's face pales, but he manages to cover it up with a nervous laugh that only confirms her suspicions. And her hopes. "Matcha doesn't taste like grass—" he begins, but his voice falters when he catches sight of her smiling.

"Remus," she says brightly, her smile broadening. "I finished the song."

"The song," he says blankly, looking startled as if he's trying to keep up. He blinks at her rapidly.

"The love song I've been stuck on," she reminds him impatiently.

"Oh! Oh! See, I knew you'd be able to finish," Remus says, still looking bewildered.

Winnie smiles at him. "It was inspired by you."

"Inspired by me," he parrots for a moment, nodding, before his eyes widen fractionally. "Inspired by me?" He blurts.

"What I'm saying is," she begins, folding her hands in her lap to keep them from shaking. "I like you."

Maybe the only way to move on was to be properly rejected. Or maybe the only way to move on, Winnie thought selfishly, was to give in to the hope that Sirius had planted.

Remus's face goes slack. And then, wonderfully, a soft pink flush begins to crawl up the nape of his neck, dusting his cheeks in two brilliant splotches. "I— Winnie— But you're—" he flounders, mouth opening and closing repeatedly. Dimly, Winnie thinks it's a little unfair how adorable he looks flustered. She also thinks that she wouldn't mind always seeing him flustered.

"But I'm so what?" She asks, tilting her head to the side casually, despite her thundering heartbeat.

"But you're so, so—" he's stammering now, flushed and a little wild-eyed. "—incandescent."

Winnie thought she had control over the conversation, but at his admittance, she feels a little dizzy. "Incandescent," she repeats in a wide-eyed whisper. In that moment, she knew that no boy would ever call her anything as meaningful. That there would be no other boy that would mean anything to her.

Remus's face only turns a brighter scarlet as he backtracks. "I mean, you're you and I'm— I'm Remus," he says nonsensically.

"Remus Lupin," she corrects with a weak laugh, heart still thumping dangerously.

Remus nods earnestly, as if that's supposed to make any sense. "Yeah," he says, throat bobbing as he swallows. "And, and you could do so much better." Winnie's heart clenches a little at the way he can't meet her eyes. "I'm— I'm not good with people— I wouldn't be good for you."

Winnie chewed the inside of her cheek uncertainly. "Remus, I can't tell if you actually think that or if you really don't like me and are just using that as an excuse because I'd rather it if you just rejected me outright—"

"Of course I like you," he blurts a little frantically with a disbelieving laugh. Winnie's heart trembles so violently that she thinks she needs to take a seat. Remus, on the other hand, pales a little at his outburst as he scrubs a hand over his face. "I mean, anybody would. But you could do so much better. I mean, I'm not good with people or talking and I don't—" She can see that he's begun to work himself up into some sort of frazzled frenzy. "I don't have tattoos or eat cigs for breakfast," he blurts.

Winnie does a double-take. "I know?" She says, bewildered. "Where is this coming from?"

"You said the type of guy you're attracted to has tattoos and eats cigs for breakfast."

Winnie balks at him for a moment before she realizes what he's talking about. She wants to laugh but instead holds it in as she stares fondly at the man in front of her. "Remus," she sighs again, stepping closer to him. The knowledge that he liked her back sends thrilling waves of adrenaline through her. Even though he's taller than her, she feels as though she's the one towering over him.

Emboldened, Winnie takes a deep breath, rises to her toes because he's so bloody tall, and grabs him by the cheeks. Remus's mouth clamps shut as his eyes widen. She wishes she could pour all her emotion into her palm and just press it against him so that he would understand.

"I said that those were the guys I attract, not that I'm attracted to. And I think you're lovely, to say in the least. You're kind, brilliant, a wonderful listener. I think your eyes and your smile are stupidly distracting— Actually, I think you're just the prettiest boy I've ever seen. And I wish you could see these things for yourself, but if it means that I have to love you for the both of us, I would be happy to. If you'd let me."

"Oh," Remus blurts, two bright scarlet splotches flushing on his cheeks. Up close, Winnie can see the way the light catches like gold in his brown eyes.

"Sorry, I'm always talking your ear off," she whispers, her fingers curling a little in the waves his hair. His skin is soft and warm beneath her fingers. "It's fine, really, if you want to reject me. But it's not fair for you to make the decision based off what you think I should want. Because I know that I want you and that's enough for me, yeah?"

Remus parts his mouth and Winnie is so sure that he's going to say something stubborn again.

"Can I kiss you?" He murmurs, brown eyes blown dark and wide as they dart to her lips.

Caught entirely caught off guard, all Winnie can do is make an assenting sound before his head is dipping down towards hers swiftly, as though that was all he was waiting for.

There's no soft, chaste exploration she had expected — instead, Remus kisses like he's burning up from the inside, like he's melting into her. His mouth is warm and sweet — he tastes like the earl gray tea she had made — and his lips are soft as one of his hand rises to catch her jaw, his other hand slipping gently to cradle the back of her head, his long fingers in her hair, as he tilts her face up.

Winnie's mind went blank the moment his lips slotted against hers, but she's rendered entirely useless when his teeth tugs at her bottom lip gently. All she can do is cling onto his neck and shoulders — she doesn't even know when her hands had moved from cupping his face — as Remus tries to guide her even closer to him. Winnie doesn't even have the capacity to feel embarrassment at the appreciative sigh that's pulled from her lips when he deepens the kiss.

To her mingled disappointment and relief — because she's started to run out of air and was feeling light-headed — Remus pulls back just far enough to peer at her with wide eyes. "Sorry, was that too much?" He whispers, voice wonderfully hoarse, his lips still brushing against hers. His brown eyes dart from her eyes to her lips and back around as if he can't decide where to look.

Total ladykiller, Winnie thinks dimly. Somehow, he always managed to catch her off guard even when she thought she was in control. "Um," she manages, breathless, her heart nearly giving out now. "Wow."

When she catches sight of him properly, another thrill runs through her. His pretty eyes are dazed over and his lips reddened and flushed. He looks a little dizzy. "Yeah," he murmurs back, equally nonsensically. He brushes a thumb across her jaw, sending a shiver down her spine. Catching this, Remus just smiles at her, as if impossibly endeared, and it does little to calm her heart. "How about a date tomorrow?"

"Not a coffee shop, I hope," Winnie says mulishly in an attempt to deflect from her warming cheeks. But Remus, as always, can see right through her.

A soft laugh rumbles in his chest as he smiles down at her fondly. "We can go wherever you want."

— — — — —

It's rush hour again. There's a dozen cups lined up for her to make and she's begun to lose track of what she's doing. When she glances down at the name of the one she just finished, Winnie doesn't bother hiding her grin as she calls out, "An earl gray for a Remus Lupin!"

Winnie's smile widens when she catches sight of him in his knitted sweater. And then, "I'm missing a drink."

Her smile falters in confusion as she looks down at the earl gray in his hand. "Hm?" She hums, frowning now.

Remus nods down at the other drink she had finished making, his lips twitching. Winnie blinks at his smile distractedly before peering at the cup. "Matcha latte for Cariad?"

Remus just smiles innocently at her, his eyes warm and fond. "That one's for you."

a/n: hope you enjoyed! love love love hearing your thoughts, so let me know what you think! <3 i feel like i could make a whole remus coffee shop -verse of oneshots now... if that's something.... we would be interested in............. i love the idea of wizards interfacing with muggle society and how shite they would be (re: sirius not knowing how to do anything). even though remus's mom is a muggle, i imagine since he's been at hogwarts for most of his life from 11-18 and spent his childhood moving around a lot and living in the more rural areas, i wanted to play off the idea that though he's been in muggle society, he's probably awkward as hell in a muggle city. edit: more remus x winnie oneshots on my masterlist! >> my masterlist!

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