Wren ââË. She/Her âËâ.Ë âŸâ.Ë Twenty-three ââË.â Aquarius â.Ëâ INFP
"There is no exquisite beauty without some strangeness."
-Edgar Allen Poe
Masterlist
YOU ARE THE REASON

blake kathryn

No title available
Xuebing Du

Discoholic đȘ©

PR's Tumblrdome
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year

JVL

Kaledo Art

romaâ
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her

izzy's playlists!
No title available
$LAYYYTER
RMH
Keni
hello vonnie
Mike Driver

Love Begins

pixel skylines

seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from TĂŒrkiye
seen from United States
seen from Ecuador
seen from Ecuador

seen from TĂŒrkiye
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United Kingdom

seen from TĂŒrkiye
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
@i-write-wrandom-fics
Wren ââË. She/Her âËâ.Ë âŸâ.Ë Twenty-three ââË.â Aquarius â.Ëâ INFP
"There is no exquisite beauty without some strangeness."
-Edgar Allen Poe
Masterlist
The Nightingale
I wrote this for a school assignment. We had to adapt a myth into a contempoary setting; I chose The Nightingale. If you haven't heard it, I highly recommend it!
This is obviously very different than what I usually write, but I thought I'd put it here because I think the message is important.
Hope you enjoy <3
wc: 637
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Birdie was lucky. You could call it fate, if you wanted, or privilege, but the truth is that Birdie simply happened to have the exact qualities she needed to soar in the publicâs favor. There were certainly singers more talented, women more charismatic, and faces more beautiful. But among them all, it was Birdie who decorated magazine covers and Billboard100 charts, Birdie who floated across stage after stage, serenading adoring audiences with her light and airy songs, and Birdie whose name fell from the most influential lips around the world.
Tonight was the culmination of her opulent career: The Garden Gala. A fundraising concert for both music enthusiasts and the worldâs elite. One singer was invited to perform â the most popular, the most beloved, the most talented. And this year, that singer was Birdie.
Backstage, she held her own eyes in the illuminated mirror before her. A thin woman dusted her cheeks with blush. Technical agents were bustling behind her reflection, carrying headsets, microphones, and clipboards. Birdie closed her eyes to the chaos.
The next thing Birdie knew, her name was being announced. Deafening cheers erupted, filling her ears with a cacophony of praise. She rose from the vanity and flitted excitedly to the stairs. A black-clad crewman arranged the fawn-colored gown behind her. At the signal, Birdie strode up the steps one by one until her vision was washed with bright light and her fans grew impossibly louder.
She crossed the wide platform stage without hurry, relishing the eyes on her every move, until she was at the center. A microphone awaited her. The cheers died down as her audience waited eagerly. Birdie inhaled through the silence, and began to sing.
Her voice was light personified: weightless, untouchable, and life-giving. Instrumentals followed her, and pastel lights cascaded over the stadium. Birdieâs soft soprano carried her melody through the air.
The performance was imperfect, of course. Birdieâs voice wavered at the wrong times, and she had to gasp unappealingly for air between lines. Her fans cheered too loudly, or cried, or sang along with the wrong notes. But despite it all, Birdieâs song was beautiful, impactful, and deeply human.Â
The crowd caught its breath with Birdie when she finished. There was stillness for a fraction of a second, and that moment stretched itself in time, laying heavy in the aftermath of the song.
And then the crowd went wild.
Birdie blushed, and her heart began fluttering a mile a minute. Her eyes darted between her fans, her crew, and her feet. She offered glittering smiles to each, channeling her media training. She basked in it a moment too long, before holding up her hand in a farewell and walking offstage.
For days, she did nothing but read her name in the media.
Birdieâs performance was life changing â an instant masterpiece. - Forbes
OMG!!!!!!! My new favorite Birdie song! But, every song is my favorite XD - TikTok user
Someone like Birdie comes along once a lifetime. Look out, young artists, you have big shoes to fill! - X user
Birdie overflowed with recognition and praise. Over the course of her career sheâd begun to crave it. It was too easy to lose herself in her fame.
So, when news broke again, Birdie was right there to see it.
A new program. âThe Future of Musicâ. The best thing to happen to the music industry since the invention of recording. An AI artist⊠with the perfect voice. It produced songs instantly. The perfect musician: accessible to everyone, available on-demand, and completely customizable. They called it The Nightingale.
It was everywhere overnight. Birdie became nobody. Her music was replaced by The Nightingaleâs imitations. Her name became obsolete, and altogether forgotten. The world had no room for her imperfections anymore.
The Nightingaleâs voice sounded just like Birdieâs, but perfect. No waver. no breath.
A Night of Indulgence
f!reader x overprotective!bf!remus
Summary: You accidentally find yourself in a seedy bar with an old friend... and very, very late to dinner.
Warnings: intoxication, non-stigmatized marijuana use, semi-modern au, hogwarts college au, d/s dynamic
Minors: dni. Adults: Drink responsibly. And NEVER take drugs from someone you don't know. ALWAYS get your substances from a dispensary. please.
There were 5 very good reasons you got drunk tonight.
1: You hated clubs.
The get-together was supposed to be in the park. Unfortunately, the rain ruined any chance of that. So instead, you found yourself in a dimly lit nightclub.
It didn't take long for the scene to become unbearable to the sober mind.
2: You hated crowds.
The get-together was supposed to be "low-key". Just a few old friends from Hogwarts. But Amaryllis, your best friend from those days, must have a very different idea regarding the term. So instead, you were surrounded with easily over 50 of her "besties".
It's not that you didn't like the occasional party, you just preferred them predictable. Evening wine, people you know, a sensible curfew.
The only thing that could keep you out of a secluded corner in this hellscape was liquid courage.
3: Your phone was dead.
You debated calling your boyfriend probably a hundred times, each time deciding that asking him to come get you wasn't worth the embarassment or neediness.
But, the incessant indecision killed your phone much quicker than you expected. So a drink replaced your phone in your fidgety hands.
4: You were reliving the Good ol' Days.
Amaryllis never outgrew sorority life. Even back then, you couldn't (and didn't want to) keep up with her partying. As much as you loved her, you would be lying to say that it hadn't put distance in your once-inseparable friendship.
So tonight, why not indulge in the antics of your younger selves? You didn't see Amaryllis often, so you might as well make the most of it.
5: Firewhiskey makes you rebellious.
And, truth be told, a very, very small part of you was ignited by the small rebellion. You were an adult, and if you wanted to spend a night out on the town, why shouldn't you?
Remus shouldn't have all the fun, right?
And that's how you forgot all about sensible curfews. Drink filled you quicker than you realized. You danced, drank, laughed... and when someone offered your an edible, you indulged.
~~~
Remus considered himself a reasonable man. He liked his countertops neat and his socks in pairs.
But tonight, nothing in him was reasonable. You were supposed to be back over an hour ago, and your phone was going straight to voicemail. Remus' hesitation to interfere with your girls' night was at war with his overwhelming need to make sure you were safe, and quickly losing by the second.
Worst of all, your beautiful face wasn't showing up at the park where you said you'd be. It as grey, with a little message saying "Last updated 39 minutes ago" somewhere downtown.
Why weren't you at the park? You went inside because of the rain. Of course you did, that's perfectly sensible. Why hadn't you texted? Your phone must be dead. That explains the voicemail and the location.
Why weren't you back yet?
Remus clenched his jaw and made his decision. Enough was enough. Reasonable or not, he had to make sure you were okay. If something was wrong, he may have already deliberated too long. He wouldn't waste one more second convincing himself you were just distracted, because even if there was only a fraction of a possibility you weren't safe, he was going to do something about it.
By the time your boyfriend had eyes on you, you could barely stand on your own. You were hanging off Amaryllis and giggling at nothing. You barely even noticed him until he grabbed your elbow, jaw set and eyes shining an equal blend of worry and anger.
That stopped you in your tracks. You had assumed he would go to sleep and you could exlain everything in the morning. All of a sudden you remembered his instructions to text him when you were coming home. He was waiting up for you. He must have ben worried sick.
But you were okay (just a little tipsy) and he could see that now. Just as suddenly as it came, the wave of guilt left you and you threw your arms around your tall boyfriend.
"Rem!" You exclaimed over the music. "I missed you!"
His expression softened slightly when he realized exactly how intoxicated you were. His hand moved to your wrist.
"I'm taking her home." He gave the statement, final and unmovable, to Amaryllis, who looked like she wanted to protest but decided against it. Instead, she opted to give you a quick, boozy kiss of the cheek and a heartfelt, cheerful farewell.
Remus didn't waste any time, turning as soon as you said your goodgyes. He pulled you through the flishing lights and shouting crowd, through heavy doors and flickering street lamps to his sedan.
You picked up on his mood, even in your hazy mind. Tears began to slowly roll down your face, but you didn't have the presence of mind to do anything about them.
"Remus..." Your voice was soft, and it made Remus' heart clench, but he held his tongue. In his anger, he didn't trust his words not to be harsher than you deserve. His mind was racing, and you didn't need to hear any of those thoughts, especially not in this state. He buckled you gently into his passenger seat, before beginning to drive home.
You didn't speak again, and soon tiredness must have overcome your anxiety because you were dozing off against the window.
Remus tried to make himself remember that you were safe. He tried to be grateful, to focus on the relief he felt when he saw you safely tucked into a circle of women, in th exact same place as when your phone died.
What woyuld he have done if...
Remus' jaw set again, and his anger was back. You weren't seeing Amaryllis again without him present, that was for sure. \
"What're you thinkin' about?" Your voice was a slurred whisper, heavy with exhaustion and tinted with shame. Almost like you expected him to say he was thinking of leaving you on the side of the road. Maybe you did.
Remus exhaled in a huff. He knew you were probably starting to come down, hard, from all the substances in your body. he knew you were noticing his foul mood. He knew you deserved to have that anxiety quieted.
He tried, but he couldn't force the words out. Truth is, he was pissed at you. It was taking everything in him not to snap. He knew that wouldn't be fair to you. Remus prided himself on being in control of his temper, never taking it out of anyone who doesn't deserve it. Especially never you.
His hands tightened and loosened on the wheel a few times. You saw he wasn't going to say anything. Your head hit the window again.
A long, suffocating silence.
"I was thinking... that I don't want you spending time with Amaryllis anymore. Not without me." Remus was surprised by his voice. Rough, low, and honest. His throat caught with everything he didn't say.
Bright eyes shone at him through tears. "It wasn't her fault, Rem, it was mine," you pleaded.
Remus didn't respond. He just glanced at you, and continued driving.
~~~
At home, Remus helped you out of your sundress and into a pair of his sweatpants and a tee. He braided your hair while you clumsily brushed your teeth, and he tucked you into bed with a kiss, like he did every night.
The tenderness overwhelmed you.
"Remmy..."
He hushed you. "Let's talk in the morning. I'm not going anywhere. For now you need to rest." His voice was low and raspy.
You let your tears wet your pillow as Remus climbed into bed beside you.
"I'm so s-"
"Shhh, none of that. Go to sleep." Remus put a possessive hand around your waist and spooned you.
Your head felt all wrong and you wanted to protest, but the gentleness of your boyfriend's embrace and the warm duvet left no room to negotiate. In seconds, you slept.
~~~
The sun was already high when you awoke. Morning brought with it a killer headache.
You stretched your sore musclesand opened your eyes to an empty room. Distantly, you heqard the sizzling of cooking. On your nightstand was a note.
On it, elegant handwriting scrawled:
Making breakfast.
We need to talk.
You and I are okay.
Memories filled you, most hazy and colored with the hyperboles of your inebriated mind.
You brushed your hair and teeth, not bothering to change. For a minute you looked at yourself in the mirror, wondering what awaited you today. You quelled the fears that arose in you. Remus said you were okay.
But, you were still wobbly and nervous as you crossed the hall into the kitchen.
Remus was wearing a plain tee and plaid pajama bottoms, and he scrambled some eggs. A still-steaming plate awaited you in your usual spot.
When Remus looked at you his face was hard, scars pink and pulling his mouth into the odds shape you only see when he's relaxed. He scanned you. For what, you weren't sure.
Aparently satisfied, his expression softened into something domestic, but not quite pleased.
"Perfect timing," he gestured with the pan, "toast just finished."
You grabbed a slice of toast and sat meekly by the breakfast Remus made.
"Good morning," you said. It was a little awkward, but you were testing the waters.
Remus didn't answer.
"Did you sleep okay?"
A brief pause.
"Yeah, darling, mostly. You threw up around four, do you remember?"
You didn't. But, now that you thought about it, your shirt was different, and you woke up on the spare pillowcase. You opened your mouth to answer, but what came out was, "I'm really sorry. I-"
"You could have suffocated."
Remus was really upset. He never spoke to you so clipped.
"I know. I... I'm really sorry, Remus." You voice took on a wavering, wet quality.
He heaved a long sigh.
With a small shake of his head, he said, "I know you are." He plated his breakfast and turned to look you in the eyes for the first time. "Let's eat first, yeah?"
You gulped and nodded. Your appetite left some to be desired, but the eggs truly looked excellent.
He sat beside you, pressing a deliberate, meaningfuol kiss to your cheek. You gave him a weak smile and you both dug in.
It was as excellent as it looked. You mostly ate in silence, broken only with him offering salt and the occasionalsatisfactory hum.
He finished his plate before you, and after a few moments, said simply, "I feel a lot better."
A real meal will do that, but not for you, not this time.
"Want to move to the sofa?" He asked when you finished.
You nodded.
Remus cleared your plate and then led you to the living room with a hand on your back. He sat with you, pulling you into his chest.
"We need to talk about last night, love."
Fear built a home for itself in your abdomen and started to grow. You knew Remus loved you. You knew he would never hurt you. But, can anyone hear those words and not feel anxious for the worst?
"Why don't you start by telling me what happened." Remus rubbed your shoulderblade gently and rested his head against the top of yours.
"I guess... it started with the rain. Amaryllis suggested the club instead, and I didn't really love the idea, so I said I wasn't dressed for it. She had an extra outfit in the car, and I didn't have another excuse, so I just agreed." You waited for Remus to remark on the revealing dress you had on, or how you should have advocated for yourself, but he didn't. He just held you and listened.
"She invited about, twelve people? Which was only a few more than we talked about, so I didn't think much of it. But they all came with their friends so it filled up fast." You took a deep breath. "They didn't let me bring the wine in, obviously, so Amaryllis and I drank it in the car. But, no one else brought their own alcohol, so everyone was drinking there. I thought it'd be rude not to join, so I was just going to have a few cocktails. But... I lost count. And at the time I felt like I had lots of good reasons to drink more. I guess I had too much."
Remus was still. "And the drugs?"
You deflated.
"It was just an edible, I'm sure of it."
That broke something in Remus. His quiet demeanor became a prison for his anger, rather than the cool, collected stability it usually was.
"You can't possibly have known that." His voice was too calm for the words he spoke.
"But I-"
"No. It doesn't matter. That could have been laced with something. Anything!" Remus pressed his nose to your hiar and took a deep breath, calming himself down. Reminding himself that you were here with him, and you were safe. "Is there anything else?"
You were happy to shake your head.
Remus gave a quiet sigh, deep, cleansing, and relieved.
"Can I tell you what it was like for me?"
"Yes. Of course," you said quietly, but genuinely.
"You were meant to be back at ten-" you shrunk a bit, "-and you didn't text me you were going to be late. By 10:05 I was already checking my watch, wondering if you were okay. How do you think I felt at eleven? Midnight?"
"Not good." You hadn't noticed your tears until you spoke, your wet vice surprising you.
"Not good at all, Love. I should have driven over as soon as your location stopped updating. I've been kicking myself ever since that I didn't."
You curled deeper into his chest. It was strange to think about your mature, assertive boyfriend feeling that way. He always seemed to know the right answer, the right course of action.
"I tried to trust you. I didn't want to believe you would do something like this. But the more I thought that, the more I worried something terrible had happened to you, which was even more unbearable to think about.
"I feel extremely disappointed. And betrayed. Do you have any idea how dangerous this was? How irresponsible? How unsafe?!"
Tears were falling harder now, and it was getting harder to breath through the quiet gasps that racked your frame. Remus resumes his comforting strokes to your back.
You let frantic apologies fall from your lips, punctuated with quiet sobs.
Remus hushed and cooed and reassured you while you cried, but for the most part, he let you cry it out. He knew you needed to release the pent-up sadness and guilt.
Soon enough, your breathing became normal, and while you still uttered "'m sorry"'s with every other breath, you had otherwise calmed.
"Are you ready to talk about moving forward?"
"I- I think so."
Remus squeezed your shoulders affectionately. From the corner of your eye you could see his gentle, kind gaze trained on you. But you kept your eyes on your hands in your lap.
"What do you think should happen?"
You pondered the question, mind still fuzzy from crying. "I think... I don't know. I can't think of a rule we don't already have. I just broke s-so many." You began to cry again, but easier.
Remus hummed, "taht's true. I think we should add one though." He paused to give the top of yuor head a kiss. "If you're drinking without me, I want you to send me texts hourly, with how many you've had, so I can monitor how drunk you are. And I can come get you before it gets to this point if necessary.
And, you're not to take a substance of any kind that you didn't get from me or a dispensary. Frankly, I'm disappointed that it even has to be a rule."
He was right. You were usually so careful about watching your drinks, and you never thought you'd be the kind of person to take a risk like that with marijuana. But you let yourself get so drunk that you did, and that was no less irresponsible.
"And... Amaryllis?"
You felt Remus furrow his brows.
"What about her?"
"You said you didn't want me seeing her," you said carefully.
You and Amaryllis had grown apart, sure, but she was still one of your oldest friends. You did love the rare occasions you got to see her.
"So you do remember that." Remus smiled against your hair. "I can't say I'm happy with her for letting you get so drunk, or for encouraging you, or for putting you in a situation you were so clearly unconfortable in. But... ultimately, it's your responsibility, and mine, to make sure you're taken care of."
You noticably relaxed.
"Love, you do know I would never dictate who you can spend your time with like that, right? I'm your Dom, not your warden."
"I know," you said, and that was true. Unless someone was truly dangerous, you knew Remus would never try to pull you away from someone you cared about.
"Good." He was peppering kisses all along your face. "I love you," he said in between each.
Giggles escaped you. "I love you too."
Masterlist
Sirius Black
Scent
Remus Lupin
A Fateful Encounter
A Futtering Heart
A Night of Indulgence
Poly!Marauders
An Illicit Proposition
Seedy Business (Coming soon!)
Loki
Coming soon!
An Illicit Proposition
CEO!Poly!Marauders x sub!f!reader
Summary: Reader takes a risk after landing a cushy new job in the city.
w.c. 5122
Warnings: modern au, "ethical billionaire" (no such thing irl but plz let me live in my fantasy world), use of y'n, d/s relationship, mentions of r.a.c.k., not proofread, cringey, long.
Your new desk was already cluttered with schedules and post-its. It sure didn't take you long to make a mess.
You landed your dream job a week ago: personal assistant to the executives of Gryffindor Incorporated.
It may not sound like much to most, but you admired Gryffindor Inc. for doing what no other FinTech corporation would: the right thing. Mr. Black rebuilt the Black empire from the ground up as soon as he inherited it, and the papers covered it for weeks.
In a world of greed and corruption, the newly minted Gryffindor Inc. stood like a beacon, the paradigm of a better way.
So, while you had little passion for finance, or even technology, you jumped at the job posting to be their personal assistant.
And so far, it'd been a dream.
Your responsibilities were few, so you had plenty of time to listen to audiobooks, and you rarely dealt with anyone other than the chief executives.
James Potter, Chief Operating Officer. Always busy and always kind. Natural flirt, and the one who most leaned on your services. You brought him coffee and biscuits every morning, and ran little errands for him throughout the day.
Remus Lupin, Chief Financial Officer. The numbers guy. Reserved, but fantastic conversationalist once you sparked the right topic (usually books did the trick, but he could surprise you with the random things he turned passionate about).
And at last, Sirius Black. Chief Executive Officer of Gryffindor Incorporated... your boss. Cheeky and confident and intimidating. Nothing at all what you expected. He was neither the stuck-up son of Orion Black youâd expect nor the gentle philanthropist the papers made him out to be. He was both, or neither, or something totally different.
You were in the middle of a swashbuckler tale about pirates when your best friend Amaryllis called.
You picked up your cell and greeted her warmly.
"You remember that guy Amos I was telling you about?" She flew into gossip. You weren't offended, that was just her way, and you loved her for it.
"Whipped cream guy?" you clarified.
"The very same. He's just asked me to join him on his company's retreat to Versailles!"
"Wait, I thought you weren't seeing him anymore?"
"Oh, right. We made up, I guess. Or, this will be how he makes it up to me? He practically begged me to take him back, so I'm giving him another chance."
That was Amaryllis. An ever-growing trail of broken hearts strewn behind her. She was pure-hearted, and never cruel, but she had a tendency to drive men mad. You honestly admired her for it, especially considering your sour luck in the dating department.
"What about that other guy, Evan?" you asked meekly. "He seemed alright."
"Ugh, SO controlling. He was into some crazy stuff, too, you wouldn't believe it."
You were sure you wouldn't, but you could tell Amaryllis was dying to dish it out, so you dutifully asked, "Like what?"
"OMG. Bitch, buckle up," she began, and so you did, giggling red as a tomato through her detailed descriptions of Evan's sexual misdemeaners. Once you had both exhausted yourselves from laughing, and you had learned new uses for wax you hoped never to use again, Amaryllis sobered her voice.
"I mean, it's just not for me. But..." she floundered for the words, "I don't know, have you ever thought about it?"
"Gracious, Amaryllis. You've just spent nine minutes telling me how awful it was."
"No no no, not the pervy stuff. The, you know, kinky stuff."
You truly, honestly, did not know the difference.
"I don't know..." you trailed off, uncomfortable with the dirty words Amaryllis so freely used.
"What I mean is... have you ever thought about looking for a dominant guy? Someone that can, like, take control?"
"I don't want someone like Evan." Your voice had a nervous, disbelieving humor to it as you dismissed the idea.
"Most aren't like him. Swear. He's a git."
You didn't answer, unsure of what she was getting at,
"Look, all I'm trying to say is that you might like it. Just, knowing you, I think you would really enjoy letting go of all that... uptightness." Amaryllis' voice got softer on the last word, clearly afraid of insulting you.
You weren't insulted. You were surprised, though. You didn't think you were uptight, just hard working, polite, maybe a bit quiet.
"I'm not uptight. I'm just... precise." You explained.
"No, I know, I didn't mean uptight uptight. I just know how stressed you can get when you're overburdened. I know how exhausting control is for you. Remember Uni?"
You did remember Uni. You'd likely have flunked out if it wasn't for your friend forcing you to take breaks with her.
"I'm not saying you have to like it, I just think you should give it a try. Get out of your comfort zone a bit, yeah? It might change your life."
"I don't know, Lissy..."
"Just... will you think about it?"
You bit the end of your pen.
"Sure, I'll think about it."
Amaryllis gave a small sigh of relief.
"You're adorable, you know that?" She didn't give you time to respond. "Guess I should let you get back to your fancy new job. Still good for drinks Tuesday?"
You nodded before realizing she couldn't see you.
"Yeah, 'course. On me!"
"I should hope so with that new paycheck! Okay. Well, later babe."
"Bye," you answered, dragging it out until you heard the click from the other end of the line. You took a deep breath.
You swiveled your chair to look behind you. You still weren't used to the view of London from this height. It was beautiful as the late afternoon sun glided down to the horizon. With only a few hours to sunset, the entire city was awash in gold.
The ding of the elevator sounded, and when the doors opened Mr. Potter stepped across the white marble to your desk.
"Miss y/l/n, lovely as ever. Can I trouble you?" He dipped his chin conspiratorily, and the sun glinted off his round glasses.
You pulled your pen from your lips with embarrassment, nodding to his question even though your only job was to be troubled by him and the other execs.
"Certainly," you said, trying to make it sound light, friendly, professional, and not uptight. "What can I do?"
"I am in utterly desperate need of a coffee, and an Aspirin," he confessed.
You nodded, already finding the calendar labeled Potter.
"I'll bring it straight to the board meeting," you said, standing. You met his gaze again and couldn't help but smiled shyly at the way he grinned at you. It was contagious. "Anything else?"
Mr. Potter shook his head. "You're a peach." He tapped the desk twice with his hand before heading down the glass hall to his office. The entire floor had glass walls, reflecting the slowly setting sunlight in intricate patterns and rainbows on the floor. There were exactly three rooms, Mr Potter's, Lupin's, and Black's offices respectively. They each opened to the central floor, which had only your desk and the elevator. No one but the four of you came up here.
You admired the plants, not for the first time, as you walked to the elevator and descended.
The elevator didn't stop to let anyone else on, and you were thankful for the small mercy. You avoided small talk if you could.
But not because I'm uptight. I just value solitude. You thought to yourself.
You nodded politely to the doorman as you crossed the opulent lobby.
Mr. Potter's favorite coffee shop was just across the street, and there was a small drugstore on the corner, so it shouldn't take you any time at all.
The barista recognized you immediately, and got started on his order when you mouthed "Potter" to her. You always tipped extremely generously, as instructed by your bosses.
After due pleasantries were exchanged, you took the espresso and went to the corner shop for the medicine. You bought a large bottle to keep at your desk.
As you walked back to the office, a well-dressed man almost bulldozed right over you. You held the coffee over your head, making sure it didn't spill, but dropped the Asprin.
Over his shoulder, the barger called, "Y'alright? Loosen up a bit, yeah?" Before hurrying on without waiting for a response.
You clenched your jaw as you bent to pick up the Asprin, muttering annoyedly to yourself. Prick.
Your lips were pursed all the way back up the ornate elevator. You stopped on the 15th floor, and opened the conference room door.
Mr. Lupin made eye contact with you first, sending you a soft, kind smile. You immediately relaxed. Lily Evans, Chairwoman of the Board of Trustees, was tapping her pen idly on her notepad, commenting on Mr. Black's presentation.
For a brief moment, you were captured by the inner workings of Gryffindor Inc. You didn't think you'd ever become accustomed to the influence that constantly surrounded you.
You quickly shook yourself out of it as Mr. Black continued, no one acknowledged you, which reminded you that you needed to be in and out quietly as a mouse.
You quickly spotted the brown-haired young man at the end of the table, near Messers Lupin and Black. You slipped to him quietly and placed the coffee and a single tablet you prepared in the elevator for him on a napkin.
"Thank you, love," he whispered to you, turning his attention back to the presentation.
"We're calling it The Marauder Initiative-"
You exited the conference room as silently as you could.
~~~
At your desk, you kept revisiting the interaction in front of the lobby. Were you really so high-strung that a complete stranger noticed? Of all the things he could have said, he went with "loosen up"?
Surely, it was nothing. Confirmation bias, nothing more. Amaryllis had just gotten into your head, that's all.
Clandestinely, your phone buzzed.
âIn case you want to change it up."
Beneath the cryptic text message was a link.
You bit your lip, the events of the day flooding your mind. Before you could think better of it, you clicked it.
The site was called "Roped In", and seemed to work like a dating app. You were prompted to make a profile, which would presumably be shown to men like Evan who would do unspeakable things to you.
You closed the app, resolving to never entertain this again.
That resolve lasted about two minutes.
You pulled up the website again on your laptop, carefully examining the page. The main function was to "match" users, of course, but there were subpages for meet-ups, blogging, tips, and much more that you couldn't even begin to understand (yet).
You chewed your lower lip.
It can't hurt anything to try it out. Amaryllis does this kind of thing all the time. It won't go anywhere, it'll just give me a silly story I can share with her on Tuesday.
It can't hurt to try it out.
You repeated this to yourself like a mantra as you filled out the questionnaire. For almost every answer you selected "I don't know" or "No Preference". You were by no means a prude, but this was new territory for you. And in your defense, Amaryllis was exceptionally bold about her sexuality, which there is no shame in, but there was also no shame in being more private. At least, that's what you tried to convince yourself of. The truth is, you were slightly embarrassed at your complete lack of experience in the bedroom.
The last thing to do was to write a short blurb to describe you in a few sentences.
You deliberated for a long time, before settling on:
(y/age (a/n. assuming youâre over 18 goodness get out of here if not)). Bookworm, shy, virgin. Looking for someone to free me.
You tried out plenty of ways to end that last statement. "-from my mind", or "-from the pressures of life", or even "-from virginity". But none felt right. So, you left it ambiguous, figuring it wouldn't matter anyway.
You picked some nice photos that flattered you, and decided to take one right then. You stood in front of the setting sun through the floor-to-ceiling windows, and positioned your phone to capture your silhouette. You tried a few poses, but none were working as well as you hoped. Finally, as a joke, you took one where you faced to the side, arched your back dramatically, and carded your hands through your hair while looking up. You were almost offended that it actually came out well. It accentuated your curves way more than you thought was possible, and made you look like a model against the colorful sky.
And it was a bit salacious, which was unlike you.
But isn't the whole point to change things up? Try something new?
You steeled yourself and added the photo to your profile and hit "done".
Then, you shut your laptop and tried to forget this ever happened.
~~~
"Fuck me, is that our assistant?" Sirius Black rarely mumbled, but he found that manners had left him as he stared wide-eyed at his laptop screen.
Remus Lupin's attention piqued at that. He was sitting comfortable on Sirius' settee, one ankle resting on his knee. He looked up from his own laptop, filled with numbers and graphs, at Sirius. Sirius' long hair was neatly styled, falling in cascading waves that framed his sharp cheekbones and jaw. The man was a vision, and he knew it.
"Can't be." Remus stood languidly and walked towards Sirius' desk, adjusting his cuffs as he did.
Sirius leaned back in his swivel chair, an arrogant smirk rampant on his features.
He looked at Remus, whose angular face was pulled slightly into a frown. His lips were pursed, and he had to bend his tall frame nearly in half over the back of Sirius' office chair to get a good look at the screen in front of them.
Sure enough, your beautiful face was staring back at them.
"Flip through."
Sirius obliged him instantly, clicking slowly through the small gallery of photos you selected; your shy smile in every one. Laughing delicately at a coffee shop, a selfie on a fall walk, at some distant beach in a bikini... though the boys lamented internally that that particular photo only showed your neck-up.
"No way is it her."
"Could be, if she wore her hair like this? It's the same color. And her face, look-" Sirius flipped to the last photo, and was stunned into silence.
Your body curved in front of the setting sun, in the room just down the hallway.
"Well I'll be damned..." Remus whispered.
Sirius drummed his fingers on his dark wood desk. Comfortable, charged silence lay in the room.
At last the boys made eye contact, Sirius with a borderline evil grin, and Remus with a small corner of his mouth ticked upwards.
Sirius sucked his teeth, then said simply, "Call James,"
Remus half-sat on the desk, hiking one thigh onto it as he picked up the phone and expertly dialed James' extension.
~~~
James did Tai Chi after meetings, and the boys knew that. He sighed over the whale sounds when he heard incessant ringing with apparent annoyance. It was difficult to find inner peace amidst such an abrasive, irritating-
He broke, and picked up the handset.
"This better be important," he growled lowly, making his displeasure known.
"It is. But you've got to see it in person. Sorry, mate."
James heaved a long sigh. "On my way." He hung up the phone, stretching his neck and shoulders, and walked out.
You were chewing your lip as James passed you, cataloging Lily's email of the board meeting's minutes in the records. It was secretarial work, really, but you didn't mind. It keeps you busy during the slower hours of your job.
You looked up at James as he crossed in front of you. He bent forward as he walked, and tipped an imaginary hat to you. You giggled softly, which encouraged him. He continued pretending to be an old chap with a cane and monocle until you gave a more comfortable, true laugh, which at last satisfied his pathological need for attention.
He opened the door to Sirius' office like it was his own, to find Sirius and Remus bickering, the latter bent around Sirius' chair fussing with something on the computer.
"You want IT breaking down this door, is that it?"
"I know what I'm do-"
"You do not."
James closed the door with a click, and Sirius looked up at him, grinned like a child on Christmas. Remus took the opportunity to finish whatever he was pulling up on the computer.
"We found her." Sirius' tone was molasses as spoke, and the words pooled in James' ears, warm and promising.
"You mean..."
"Yes." Sirius rested his face on his fist, looking like a model more than a real CEO. His grin was candid.
The three were... involved. It was quite secret, no one wanting the tabloids to blow it into some scandal. And as much as they wished it weren't true, they knew the company would face large losses if such a PR disaster occured. The world wasn't as open-minded as some would like.
They were happy, and in love. But there was something else they wanted, so they were searching for someone. They were picky, and the search had already consumed many months. She had to be kind, intelligent, open-minded of course... and submissive.
James watched eagerly as Remus rotated the monitor towards him, and your gorgeous face shone back at him.
"Y/N?"
"The very same," said Remus, reverently.
James swallowed hard. He couldn't deny how perfect it was. You caught his eye the moment you walked into the conference room for your interview. And how could you not? You were stunning, smart, lovely... everything they could want. They would never make a move like that unprompted of course, not wanting to make you uncomfortable at work or add undue pressure to the offer. But if you were on this site...
"Are you sure?" he asked.
"More than anything, if she'll have us," Sirius responded, a smile evident in the tone of his animated voice.
James nodded his ascent. "She's perfect."
Sirius straightened instantly, opening his laptop again. He began typing something.
"No, leave that," he said when Remus went to close the website.
James shifted on his feet, uncharacteristically nervous. He looked at the wall behind him where you would be if he could see through the wood paneling.
A hard click on Sirius' keyboard pulled his eyes back to the boys.
Sirius' grin grew impossibly wider, more mischievous.
"She'll be here in a few moments."
~~~
You didn't think anything of the boys' gathering in Mr. Black's office. They liked to do their work together when they could, one or two or all of them congregating in each other's offices.
So you didn't know why the email in front of you made your stomach do flips.
Miss Y/N,
Messers Lupin, Potter, and myself require your immediate presence in my office regarding an executive development. Please disregard your other responsibilities for the day.
Sirius Black, CEO
Gryffindor Inc
You tried to calm your breathing, it wouldn't do to keep them waiting.
You picked up your padfolio and pen and turned to go, before thinking better of it and heading to the only bathroom on the floor instead to freshen up. You combed through your hair with your fingers before redoing it, making sure it was neat and professional. You reapplied your lip gloss, and took a deep breath.
You could only hope you weren't in some kind of trouble. It didn't sound disciplinary, but you couldn't imagine why else they wanted you to disregard your tasks.
Whatever it was about, the thought of the three of them discussing you behind that door sent butterflies through your veins.
At last you steeled your resolve and walked to the mahogany door, gold plate reading S. Black, CEO, and knocked.
The door opened silently, and Mr. Potter extended his hand, inviting you in. The air was charged with something heavy, and a primal part of you felt like prey in the jaws of a predator.
You shoved that feeling away and smiled to the room. Mr. Black had his hands steepled in front of him, elbows resting on the mahogany desk. Mr. Lupin was leaning against the wall, eyes fixed on you. Their expressions were unreadable. Amused, maybe?
You gave a whispered hey and a friendly shrug in greeting. Mr. Lupin nodded back tenderly.
That relaxed you. You still couldnât shake the feeling of being called into the principal's office, but you felt much more at ease.
Mr. Potter, ever the gentleman, let his hands grace your shoulders, silently asking your permission to take your feminine blazer. You shrugged it off, left now in only the black dress that hugged your curves. You tried not to feel self-conscious.
âIs the lighting okay?â Mr. Lupin asked.
The room was washed in low light from 2 precisely-placed table lamps. The warm glow made the office feel inviting. The executives were a bit like those Montessori kids.
âYeah, definitely. Itâs nice.â You answered breezily. You sat meekly in the plush velvet chain before Mr. Black and swallowed, trying to make your next statement sound just as casual. âWhat can I do for you?â
You were hyper aware of the three sets of eyes on your every move.
Mr. Black answered. "That entirely depends on you, sweetheart."
You noticed the endearment that fell easily from his lips, but you didn't react to it. Mr. Black was that kind of man, careless and easy and charming. Actually, now that you thought about it, all three men had tender names for you.
Then he added, "Close the door, James." His eyes didn't leave yours once.
Your mouth opened, and then you closed it again. Mr. Lupin was looking at you like you were a puzzle, or an alley cat he couldn't decide whether or not to bring inside. Mr. Black was smiling, or, smirking. You heard the click of the door shutting, and then felt Mr. Potter's eyes return to you, though you couldn't see them.
You looked helplessly between the two men in front of you, looking for any sign of what was happening.
"I... I'm sorry. Have I done something wrong?" You ask innocently, trying not to sound as timid as you felt.
Mr. Lupin cracked a sideways smile, and Mr. Black chuckled lowly. "No, sweetheart. We'd just like to discuss the future of your employment with us."
Your eyes widened slightly. You were getting fired.
"Fuckâs sake, Sirius, you're scaring her. Out with it." Mr. Lupin chastised.
Mr. Black only smiled wider at you. "How have you been enjoying your time with us so far?"
You swallowed. "I've loved it," you answered honestly.
Mr. Black leaned back in his chair, drumming his fingers on the armrest and eyeing you over his fist, which was curled around his mouth.
"Wonderful. You don't find it too..." he searched for the word, "boring?"
"Not at all." Your eyes were still wide as you looked between your bosses.
Mr. Black's asymmetrical smirk widened as he tilted his chin upward and turned his monitor to face you. On it, was the profile you had made just hours before. The picture you'd taken, wearing the very dress you did now, on display.
Your breath caught. You looked down at your notebook ashamed. How could you possibly explain this to them? And, did it even matter? This wasn't exactly how you were supposed to spend company time regardless. You were definitely getting fired.
"Enough teasing, Sirius." Mr. Lupin turned again to you. "You're in no trouble darling."
"No trouble at all." Mr. Potter spoke from behind you, and he was closer than you thought. The hair on the back of your neck stood up.
"I- I'm so sorry. I can explain- it was- I-" You floundered for words. "I won't do anything like this again."
A beat of silence passed.
"That's a shame." Mr. Blackâs smile was gone, replaced with a sort of playful remorse. "I had so hoped you would."
You processed this. There was something you weren't understanding in this conversation, but you didn't dare speculate what.
"Are you going to fire me? For⊠wasting company time?"
"âCourse not. But we do expect you to take this down."
You nodded, still staring intently at your notepad. Of course, it reflected scandalously on the entire company.
"Right away.â
~~~
Sirius couldnât bring himself to feel ashamed of the way he ogled the beautiful woman sitting before him. She was witty and sweet and beautiful. And all too much fun to tease.
âRight away.â
Your voice was a clear whisper. Sirius wished you would look up so he could see you chewing on your lip â he was sure thatâs what you were doing down there.
He could tease you forever and never get bored, he knew, but the time for that was over. He decided to test the waters.
ââRight away sir.ââ
The smallest beat of heavy anticipation passed.
Your head shot straight up like an arrow, wide eyes looking right into Siriusâ. Your lips were parted and perfectly round as they gasped softly.
Sirius swallowed around the tightness in his throat. He felt Remus and Jamesâ eyes on him warily, wondering which direction he was going to take this.
You seemed like you were getting ready to say something, so Sirius beat you to it.
âY/n,â Sirius said severely. âDo you mean what youâve written here?â
Your eyes grew impossibly wider. Sirius found himself wondering exactly how wide they could be. And what could make them soâŠ
He clenched his jaw and focused. Your eyes were darting across his face, going from one eye to the other, then to Remus to give him the same treatment. God, what a privileged view.
At last, you resigned. Your chin fell to your chest again, in something closer to acceptance than shame.
âYes.â Your voice was tiny, barely more than a whisper.
Sirius fought the urge to lunge across this desk and take you then and there. His jaw ticked. He looked at James, who was similarly fixated on you, and Remus, cool and unbothered (but if Sirius knew anything, contemplating the foulest, dirtiest fancies surrounding you).
Time for the billion-pound question.
âWhy did you write it?â
The air in the room changed. What was electric anticipation was now a more sobered hope.
Your shoulders lifted and fell in what must have been a deep, steadying breath.
âIâm⊠uptight. I wanted to try⊠not being in control, for once.â You admitted. The confession seemed to lift a weight off your shoulders.
Sirius was grinning wide before he knew it. He looked behind you at James who looked relieved and amorous, like he wanted to scoop you up and kiss you, which he probably did. Even Remus had softened a bit, as if a part of him was worried this was all too good to be true, and he finally let himself believe that it was happening.
In all honesty, Sirius didnât think you were uptight. Bit particular, and you overworked yourself sometimes. Nothing deserving of such a negative word. But he didnât comment on it. There would be plenty of time to correct such self-talk later.
James cleared his throat, lowering himself to your eye level. You finally lifted your watery eyes from your lap to look into his big brown ones.
âWould you let us take control?â Jamesâ voice was a soft whisper, but it filled the silent room.
Your eyebrows narrowed for only a moment, before raising again in understanding. You caught on fast. You really were clever.
âYouâre allâŠâ You looked between them.
Remus nodded solemnly.
âThat alright?â James asked sincerely.
You hesitated, but nodded more fervently to make up for it. Your brows furrowed again. You had questions.
Sirius could not get enough of you. Your emotions so clearly played on your face, it was a work of art. He was intoxicated with you, and he could see that the others were as well.
âSo⊠sorry, so⊠you would all beâŠâ Your mouth opened and closed as you tried to find the words. Sirius watched you with amusement.Â
But Remus decided to end your torment.
âWeâd like to give you what youâre looking for. If youâll allow us,â he offered.
âBut if youâd like to say no, weâll forget all about this. You can go back to your desk and everything will go back to normal. Youâll keep your job,â James added.
Likely story. As if any of us could forget this. Forget how you look staring at us with those deep, glassy eyes.
You searched Jamesâ eyes thoroughly. Then Siriusâ. Then Remusâ. Then you looked at your clasped hands, still.
When you looked up at Sirius again, you werenât nervous or flailing, you were sure. Your voice was steady and clear when you spoke again.
âIâd like that.â
~~~
You couldnât pinpoint what made you so sure of your decision. Rationality pounded at the door of your consciousness, screaming that you were risking the best job youâd ever had for something you werenât even sure you would like. Some part of you, some uptight part of you wanted to take it all back, storm out of the room and pretend it never happened.
But you didnât want to listen to that part of yourself all the time anymore. You wanted to be free.
âIâd like that.â You looked directly into Mr. Blackâs silver eyes as you spoke, conveying all the confidence you had in you to those three words.
Mr. Lupin kicked off the wall and crossed in front of the desk. He leaned against it, oozing confidence and allure from every pore. You had to lift your chin quite far to meet his eyes.
Slowly, deliberately, he brought his hand to your face. His index finger hooked beneath it, fitting perfectly into the groove of your jaw. His thumb pressed softly against your chin.
âAddress us properly,â said Mr. Lupin, voice husky and deep and meaningful. You found yourself completely captivated by his deep, green eyes.
Your lashes fluttered, recalling Mr. Blackâs earlier correction. âIâd like that⊠sir.â
âBloody hell,â whispered Mr. Potter.
âFucking perfect,â Mr. Black said a disbelieving laugh.
And Mr. Lupin was staring at you. His features softened (pride? affection? lust?) but his gaze remained intense and focused on you.
âThen letâs get started.â
Cinnamon Rolls and Arseholes
ft. The Marauders
Seems like an arsehole, is an arsehole (affectionate): James
Seems like an arsehole, is a Cinnamon Roll: Sirius
Seems like a Cinnamon Roll, is an arsehole: Remus
Seems like a Cinnamon Roll, is a Cinnamon Roll: Peter
A Week of Beginnings
f!reader x Remus Lupin
Exerpts from Reader's journal, detailing several run-ins with Remus Lupin.
Warnings: unreliable narrator, definitely contains typos and bad grammar which is only sometimes intentional, unconventional structure, use of y/n I'M SORRY
---Reader's Diary---
October Ninth, 1975
Dear Diary,
I saw Remus today. Well, more than saw, actually. After Potions I was walking through the courtyard like usual, looking for a place to read, when he ran up to me. He stood so close I couldn't even breathe (he's so dreamy). I was so focused on trying to control my heartbeat that I didn't even realize he started talking to me! It was a complete disaster. When I finally noticed he was waiting for me to say something I just looked at him, stupidly, gaping like a fish out of water. And if that couldn't get any worse, when I finally found my voice the only word I could force out was a timid "huh?".
It was mortifying. All the words in my vocabulary and around him I'm rendered completely mute. It's so unfair. I wish he could see me when I'm not floundering for words or tripping over my own feet!
But that's not even the worst of it. He LAUGHED at me. It was gorgeous, obviously, but humiliating. And it was a real laugh, too. Not just his little chuckle or polite sniff. A complete, hearty, head-tipped-back-and-eyes-closed laugh.
He repeated himself without any outward annoyance or animosity (just asking if he could walk with me) because even if I'm ridiculous, one of his many virtues seems to be patience. (I suppose he needs it, hanging around with that James Potter and Sirius Black.)
And Merlin, I said yes. How stupid can I be? I should have cut my losses and made up some excuse to go back inside. But I couldn't help it. It isn't every day that Remus Lupin wants to hang out with you, even if only briefly.
We talked about everything. Books, of course, but also classes, history, hobbies... anything. I learned his favorite season is Spring, because of the baby animals, but he prefers Autumn weather for the feeling of sweaters and warm tea against chilly air. He loves the rain, but lightning has frightened him ever since he was a boy. His favorite poet is a muggle named Alfred Tennyson. He always carries chocolate in his robe pockets for bad days, or friends. He can't dance and he can't sing, but secretly he loves when people sing loudly and badly or dance clumsily. Still, he rarely does so himself.
I never did find a place to read. We walked around the courtyard until dusk, softly chatting the entire afternoon. I didn't want to stop, even though I couldn't stop stuttering (it did subside substantially once the conversation got going, but still no where near enough to be considered a normal human being to him). When it was dinnertime, he walked with me all the way to the Great Hall, only bidding me goodbye once we entered the room and Sirius called him away.
I guess it's nice that he's such a gentleman, even to someone as unladylike as me. It's really too bad that I'm so uncoordinated and incoherent around him, otherwise we might be great friends.
------
October tenth, 1975
Dear Diary,
I learned two more things about Remus Lupin.
One, he scowls a bit when he concentrates on homework. Real mad scientist-like, only softer. You can't tell unless you're up close. He furrows his brows and purses his lips just slightly like the parchment has done him some sort of evil. Somehow, he's still as handsome as a storybook prince.
Two, if he catches you looking at him, he'll start glancing over at you incessantly to make sure you aren't still staring like a lunatic. Seriously, he will not stop looking your direction. (He also will not bring up how creepy you were being. Ever the gentleman, he is.)
------
October eleventh, 1975
Dear Diary,
I almost returned a book LATE today. Almost. And it was, of course, entirely not my fault.
I tried explaining the situation to Madam Pince... I did! I thought after these few years we had built up some sort of rapport, a friendship even. But if that's true, she was unforgiving despite.
I can't blame her. I would be, too, in her position. She will never abide any degree of carelessness. And I share the sentiment regarding books, truly. But mercy! It wasn't my fault!
That hoodlum, that delinquent, that MARAUDER Remus Lupin! He stole one of my books. That run in? In the hall? He had my copy of Cassandra and Her Cat Gustavus this entire time!
Madam Pince was just about to chew me up one side and down the other when he came rushing in, disheveled and breathing hard as if he'd come straight from Quidditch. He's so handso He didn't even look at me -- the gaul -- and pulled it out from his robes. Madam Pince glared at me (yes!) and snatched it back.
I didn't even get to finish it! Does Gustavus escape the enchanted forest? Does Cassandra free the mice? Do they reunite at last? What happens to the royal family? I'll never know!
I didn't want to ask for a renewal of the book after such embarrassment, and I was sure Madam Pince would refuse anyhow.
That pilfering marauder. At least he opened the cover to check the due date. I can't even imagine what would have happened if he didn't...
------
October twelfth, 1975
Dear Diary,
I'm afraid I only have time for a short entry today. Quite exhausted. Remus and I watched the stars together from the Astronomy Tower.
I forgive him for the library incident.
------
October thirteenth, 1975
Dear Diary,
First snow of the year today! It was so beautiful and peaceful. It's Saturday, so there were no classes, and I could enjoy it from the comfort of my bunk. For most of the day, anyway.
Amaryllis came to fetch me in the late afternoon, saying a boy was asking to talk me on a walk. It was Remus... again. I admit I was happy to see him. But nervous, too. It's the first time he's gone out of his way to see me. Maybe that makes us friends? But I wouldn't want to assume.
The walk was wonderful. It was just chilly enough to be tolerable, bundled up in sweaters as we were.
He looked so cozy. His knit sweater was soft to the touch and very flattering. It had a brown rhombus pattern, with thin stripes of maroon and gold. The sleeves were a little short on his long arms. He kept pulling them down, only for them to shift up again when he spoke (he moves his hands when he's excited).
And his hair... it looked a little silly with his golden-brown locks peeking out from the deep red beanie he wore. The curls were smushed in some places, and bouncy in others. They fell into his eyes, but he didn't always bother to brush them away. He's so stunningly handsome, but he doesn't seem to realize it.
I don't remember how exactly I realized he was cold. It was some combination of his usually animated hands suddenly being folded in his pockets, knowing his lanky extremities must be so prone to numbness, and watching him try to hide the waver in his voice.
I gave him my scarf. He refused at first, but eventually wrapped it around his shoulders. He looks good in my house colors.
He kept looking at me. I wonder if he was reading into the gesture. I didn't mean anything by it, I just hated to see him so cold. His green eyes... They're so unreadable.
------
October fourteenth, 1975
Dear Diary,
Amaryllis will not stop teasing. I don't know what she's on about, he is only a friend.
She's been spending too much time in the romance section of the library.
Remus returned my scarf today. It still smells a bit like him: chocolate, of course, and... Eucalyptus? I can't place it. Some Earthy, sweet, herbal fragrance. It's wonderful.
He left this note, too. Look at his handwriting! It has a messy sort of elegance, don't you think? Like every pen stroke is a manifestation of his quick wit, and effortless, unconventional beauty.
---Remus' note, tucked neatly into the pages of Reader's journal---
Y/N,
Your scarf was very warm, and soft. Thank you for accompanying me on the walk.
Yours,
Remus
A Fluttering Heart
f!reader x remus lupin
Reader develops a bit of a crush after a bookish encounter.
Warnings: light nightmare
You really didn't mean to. It was irresponsible, schoolgirlish, wholly unrealistic. And yet, after that stormy day in the library, your world had ever-so-slightly shifted. Your focus, inexplicably changed.
That night, you had a dream...
You were running through a meadow at midnight, full moon above. The grass was awash in blue and silver, and your quick footfalls echoed as if through a stone cavern. Behind you, a shadow pursued. Without needing to glance behind, you knew it had piercing green eyes. You sprinted faster, two heartbeats pounding in your ears. The dark figure gained. A scarred hand gripped your shoulder. You gasped-
You awoke.
Green eyes. Scarred hands.
You should have gone back to sleep. You should have cleared your head, awoken hours later, and gone to breakfast without giving Remus Lupin one more thought.
But you didn't. Fate put Remus Lupin in your life, and it seemed she had no intentions of letting him fade easily into the background.
You noticed Remus everywhere, now. In the Great Hall, chuckling softly over tea. At Hogsmeade, buying more chocolate than you thought could ever fit in his lean frame. In the hallway, peeking over the heads of even the seventh years despite how he tried to hunch his shoulders. Reading in the courtyard. Resting under deciduous trees. Walking by the black lake.
He seemed to frequent your favorite places. You wondered why you hadn't noticed him before. Were you really running into him more often? Or had he always been there? Had he just looked so natural and perfect in those places that you never really saw him? Whatever the answer, you were seeing him now.
And, as much as you didn't want to admit it... you liked what you saw.
You liked the way his face totally relaxed when he read or napped. They were the only times you'd seen him without a practiced neutral expression, the only times he seemed truly at peace. His features were a little uneven, pulled minutely askant in places -- you assumed from the scarring. You wanted to memorize every centimeter of his skin. He was stunningly handsome.
You liked his hands. You liked his nimble fingers and they way he always licks the middle one to turn pages. You liked the hard angles his knuckles take when he cards them through his messy curls.
You liked quite a bit about Remus Lupin, but it was his laugh that made you realize he'd completely captured your heart.
The way his eyes squinted shut and his mouth fell open in a rare moment of carefree joy. The rich baritone sound carried through the air like a summer's breeze, warm and light and never enough. When he really laughed, the world stopped to listen. You were infatuated with the sound, you craved it.
Almost overnight, you found yourself with a rather heart-fluttering crush. On Remus Lupin.
So you did what any normal girl would do -- you avoided him like the plague.
He made your normally quick mind go completely blank. He made you trip over your own feet if you looked too long at him (but could you blame yourself? He glows in sunsets and morning light). Even without his infamy, he was a bad influence. Enemy of your coordination and concentration, at least.
But no amount of averted glances or forced ambivalence could prepare you for what was coming. Fate was about to get her hands dirty.
The leaves had finally turned red and golden, and the air crisp and cool. Autumn wrapped a blanket of quiet over Hogwarts, and soon your favorite places were alight in the changing seasons.
You were walking through an outdoor cooridor, admiring it all, when you ran into a stone wall. Books scattered from their place in your arms. Quills, inkwells, and parchment clattered and rolled. And you? You landed right on your behind.
Your head pounded from the collision and abrupt fall. Presing the heel of your palm to your temple, you turned your attention to the halo of books and assignments surrounding you, desperate to gather them up as quickly as posible and leave before you got stepped on.
You shoved parchment into your bag, not caring if it wrinkled, then began rescuing books from under the robes of chatting and giggling students.
You reached for a book that had fallen open, pages down, when another large hand reached for it as well, brushing against yours. You pulled back and looked up.
Remus Lupin was on his knees, smoothing out the pages of his book, American Witchcraft in the 1530's. He kept his eyes to the floor, as if embarrassed.
"I'm so sorry, let me help you." His voice was a soft kind of frantic as he meticulously sorted the books into two piles.
Sorry? What was he sorry for? You bumped into him.
"No, no. I got it. It's- they were- I mean..." you shook your head, wishing words didn't feel so unnatural all of a sudden, "thank you." Your skin burned where it had brushed against Remus' stony knuckles.
The tips of his ears were pink as he mumbled a soft acknowledgment.
You were certain your cheeks were matching, so you tried to hide your face in your work as best you could. Remus kept glancing at you through long lashes. You never realized how long they really were, and soft brown to match his hair-
Remus gently cleared his throat, saying "My name's Remus. 'M sorry, again, for crashing into you."
Your heart sank. Of course he doesn't remember you.
You felt yourself shrinking under his wary gaze. You hadn't been sorry for the collision -- until now.
"It's really no problem. We're actually, um, aquainted. Earlier this year, in-"
"-the library," Remus finished. A boyish, candid grin bloomed on his face. "I know. I didn't think you'd remember." He looked down when he said the last part.
That had you blushing harder than you ever had.
What was happening? Why did this complete stranger have such an effect on you?
"How could I forget?" You answered, so quietly you thought he may not have heard you. You started to feel glad at that, realizing just how puerile it sounded. But when you finally dared to meet his brilliant green eyes, they were trained on you with a slight sparkle, and you knew he had.
You heart was pounding so loudly in your ears that you barely even noticed the bustle of students around you. Unable to take it anymore, you mumbled a barely-coherent 'excuse me' and scurried away with your shield of books covering the glow in your cheeks. You wondered briefly where the nearest pond was so you could throw yourself in.
Something in your heart stopped you before you could turn the corner. You turned around. You noticed many things all at once.
Remus' stack of books almost met his chin, so it was no wonder you didn't see each other. His head was tilted in curiosity, or maybe something sweeter. But most of all, you noticed his eyes. Looking at you. Really, really looking at you. You froze, unable to school the shock from your face. Your breath left you, and for a moment you thought he was reading your mind. But then he gave a soft smile, held up his hand in farewell, and walked away, letting his robe swish with his stride.
Taglist: @daydreamandforget @novausstuff
A Fateful Encounter
f!reader x remus lupin
Hufflepuff reader meets a tall boy (with an even taller reputation) in the library
Warnings: none
There was a thunderstorm the day you met Remus Lupin. You were in the library, cradled by the scent of dust and leather while wind and rain raged against ancient glass panes.
You wandered through stacks of books, each one itâs own iteration of perfection. You hoped to read them all before you graduated from Hogwarts, but so far the task proved to be more of an undertaking than you originally thought.
You faced two main obstacles: first, despite the library's cozy and quaint atmosphere, the collection was actually very extensive. You thought that even if you dedicated every waking moment of the next four years to studying the texts available to you, you would still not have time to read every single one. And as it were, you were not able to spend every waking moment reading. To your dismay, itâs frowned upon to read extraneous material in class. Worse, in-depth study of tangentially-related topics for which you are given homework does not yeild passing marks when you forgo the orignal assignment completely. You maintained a petulant belief that it should count, you were here to learn magic after all, but your professors did not agree.
Lightning and thunder crashed, illuminating the far wall of the library, and the ornate sign reading Restricted Section. You sighed to yourself. The final hinderance to your little dream.
The door to the library opened, breaking you from your thoughts, and a boy entered. He was very tall, and wearing a knit sweater softened with time. You ducked behind an aisle before you could question this impulse. Silently navigating the stacks, you peeked between a few stray books to study the boy.
You noticed his scars, deep and jagged. They healed pink, but carried the promise of a painful memory. They covered his cheeks and his hands, even peeking through his sweater near his neck in some places. You imagined them open and bleeding scarlet blood, deep gashes in this gentle boyâs skin. What had he gone through to have such horrible souveniers?
You found yourself inching forward as he spoke with Madame Pince, listening to his voice. His whispers were velvet brushing against ceramic.
â-too kind, Mr. Lupin.â Madam Pince accepted a book from the tall boyâs scarred hands.
Lupin? Remus Lupin? No, it couldnât be.
You were very familiar with the Marauders. Within days of arriving at Hogwarts, your first year, youâd heard the stories. They were delinquents, hooligans that tricked teachers and hexed Slytherins. It had been deeply engrained in you: Do not trust them. Stay away.
You didnât know of any other Lupins. And yet, as the Marauder crossed in front of the books you were peeking through, he contradicted everything you thought you knew about the boys. He didnât look like a delinquent. He turned in his book on time, else Madam Pince would have made that abundantly clear. He was respectful and quiet. He didnât hold mischief in his eyes like James Potter, or walk with the arrogance of a peacock-feathered Griffin, like Sirius Black. He looked at the books the way you looked at the books. His gait was calm and unhurried, if a little awkward. He reached to brush the spines of the books as he passed, a silent reverance, or prayer, resonating between him and the knowledge kept in this room.
You realized suddenly that he was going to turn down your aisle. As quickly as you could move without making a sound, you ducked into another stack.
Merlin, heâll think Iâm some kind of stalker. Heâll spike my tea with an aging potion, or hex my hair to never lay flat, or-
Thunder crashed, and in your heightened anxiety, a gasp escaped you.
Soft footsteps approached you. You turned your head right as the alleged rascal rounded the corner into your aisle. He seemed as surprised as you are, though you couldnât exactly understand why. A rougish grin formed on the boyâs lean face.
âOh, Iâm sorry if I startled you. I didnât think anyone else was here.â You became quickly aware that the tall Marauder was indeed, very handsome.
âNo! I wasnât- I mean, I was. But it⊠the thunder-â
As if on cue, another lightning strike illuminated the shadowed aisles, followed by a booming crash of thunder. For a brief moment, you saw his eyes clearly. They were the green of Spring, and fixed on you.
âS- sorry,â you stuttered. âI can leave.â
He earnestly shook his head. âNo, no please. Stay.â
He was being polite, you were sure, but something about the way he said âstayâ made your head feel fuzzy. You nodded with a little smile, and headed to the seating section. In your haste to escape, you had forgotten to pick out a new book. Instead of embarrassing yourself by standing up again, you slipped onto your favorite armchair and pulled your latest read from your messenger bag, Wizards of the French Revolution: Dangers of Magical Intervention in Muggle Affairs.
It was an evocative read. The omnibus of anecdotes and daring stories were vivid and immersive. You knew they were meant to be cautionary tales, but something about the spirit of insurrection ignited you. You rooted for the heroes, and despaired when each one met a tragic end. What desperation had they faced, to do such desperate acts? They gave their lives to their cause, and something about that spoke to you. It asked you what lengths you would go to for what you believed, what cause you would die for. Literature had the power to change lives, minds, and hearts. It was changing you now. Maybe books, then. Freedom to read and learn.
No later than when you lost yourself entirely in thought and ink were you pulled back to reality by those gentle footfalls approaching you again. You kept your head in your book, pretending to focus intently on the words. In truth, your heart was in your ears, and you were hyper aware of the tall, gorgeous boyâs proximity to you. Your mind flooded itself with worry, what if he could tell how heavily you were breathing? What if he sensed your distraction?
If he did, the supposed 'criminal of peace' didnât ridicule you. He simply sat across from you, and opened a book of his own, exhaling as the pages fell open to his woven bookmark.
You dared to peek over your book to see what he was reading, but were dismayed to see that the book was flat on his lap, cover hidden.
âItâs Hypatiaâs Ethics of Magical Philosophy. Terribly boring, Iâm afraid. Iâm Remus.â
So it really was him.
You gave your name with more shyness than you meant to. In an effort of politeness, you softly added, "I liked that one.â You didnât lift your head when you responded, afraid your blush might be too evident.
âHmmm,â came an amused voice. You could imgaine the gentle smile on the boy in front of you. âI suppose Iâll have to give Hypatia another chance, then.â
You grinned behind your book. You decided Remus Lupin was not a hooligan. Jury was still out on âdeliquentâ and âcriminal to peaceâ.
The two of you sat in growing comfort as you read, letting the ambiance of the storm envelop the otherwise quiet library. But all too soon, Remus packed his book away and stood to leave.
You couldnât help it this time, you looked up at the Marauder, who was awkwardly striding to Madam Pince to check out the book. You were struck again at how handsome the tall boy was. His light brown locks held a slight curl, and he ran his fingers through them as he waited for Madam Pince to update her records. Every move he made exuded peace and comfort, despite the natural clumsiness that came from having such a looming figure so early in life. You found yourself inagining cuddling up to him, and stopped yourself. That was no way to be thinking about a complete stranger, much less one of the infamous Marauders. As you stared, Remus turned to look back at you. You averted your gaze, focusing back on your book, hoping he wouldnât notice the way you had been staring at the back of his head. When curiosity got the better of you and you looked up again, he had already walked out of the library, and was gone.
The Beginning
f!reader x Marlene Mckinnon
The week before you start your education at Hogwarts University, you get a little too intoxicated and make a decision that will change your life forever...
Warnings: Intoxication (duh) / sensual dancing / Very very light dubcon (reader is intoxicated but consenting as much as an intoxicated person can) / Technically cheating but also complicated relationship is complicated iykwim / WIP
1.3k wds
CHAPTER 1 â The beginning
             It began with Marlene. The two of you always shared a rather special connection. She was extremely protective of you, for one thing, but it was more than that. When you started seeing Remus back at Hogwarts, sheâs the one that made you feel like part of the group, not just an outsider dating the tall marauder. She went out of her way to sit by you in the Great Hall and include you in conversations. She listened intently and patiently and valued your input.
The deciding moment came when you lied right to Minerva McGonagallâs face to cover some particularly wayward tomfoolery of the boysâ doing. It didnât even take you a second to think up a convincing excuse, and all with a straight face. After that, the others quickly accepted you into their unofficial club, despite being a year younger.
And it wasnât long after that you began to hang out with Lily and Marlene independently of the boys. Thatâs when you realized how stunning Marlene was. Confident, rebellious, uncouth... and free.
You were brushing her hair one night in the Gryffindor common room in 6th year. You imagined what it would be like if you didnât stop. If you kept running your finger through her dark locks. If her hair was this soft, what must her skin be likeâŠ
And thatâs when you knew. You liked girls. You liked Marlene.
You were terrified to tell Remus. Things were still new between you, and you didnât want to scare him away with a sexual awakening. Especially when you hadnât crossed that threshold between yourselves. Or, in your case, at all.
And you certainly couldnât tell Marlene. The thought made your stomach churn in abject terror. So, that fateful night in the Gryffindor common room, you swore an oath to yourself: you would keep your secret, and no one would get hurt.
But then, a particularly indulgent night. The weekend before your first year of University with the group. You had way too much firewhiskey. You suddenly found yourself sitting next to Lily in a dark, crowded nightclub, watching Marlene dance.
âSheâs so⊠alluring,â you sighed, the whiskey making your râs lighter and smoother than usual. Marlene was grinding against a cute Ravenclaw girl, now. âI wanna do that.â
Lily looked at you funny, her perfectly manicured brows knitted. âHow tipsy are you? I canât believe I let you drink so much.â She pursed her lips slightly, and eyed your empty glass. âDo you mean that?â
Everyone was aware of Marleneâs vibrant personality, her sex-confidant innuendos and jokes that always had you blushing like a tomato. Lily wasnât sure what you were referring to. Did you want Marleneâs confidence? Inhibition? Dance finesse?? Or Marlene?
âSheâs like⊠a firework wrapped in silk. Sheâs soft ân I wanna hold her, but âs dangerous,â you tried to explain. You were sure you werenât making any sense, but through the cloudy fog of alcohol all you could see were Marleneâs hips rocking to the rhythm of the loud music, and you imagined them against yours.
Lily smiled. You did want Marlene. âDo you like girls, Jessica?â
âMmhmm.â You giggled at your confession. Youâd never actually said it out loud before. âBut donât tell anyone. âS a secret.â
Lily stood suddenly and pulled at your wrists. You stood successfully, a little dizzy but not dangerously inebriated. Then Lily was nudging you toward Marlene. âGo dance with her then!â Lily shouted over the music, trying not to look too eager. You had easily become one of Lilyâs best friends. And she and Marlene had been close since first year. Her stomach fluttered at the thought of Marlene helping you explore your sexuality.
You walked over to the dark-haired girl, alone now, her hips swaying to the beat like a candle flame. You started to reach out to touch her shoulder, but Marlene turned around, and her sultry eyes were looking straight into yours.
You swallowed around the lump in your throat and opened your mouth. The moment was here, now, but you didn't think this far ahead. You found yourself looking down at the foor, missing the way Marlene tried and failed to avoid raking her eyes hungrily over your form.
You didn't seem to know how beautiful you were, the way you chose plain dresses and blouses and skirts that could have fit in a Jane Austen novel, but Marlene always thought you were gorgeous. She reminded you freqently. But seeing you like this? Lily's dress hugging your curves tight, all dolled up and pouty? You were an absolute vision.
Marlene searched you for any sign of distress. You weren't much of a dancer, preferring to watch and appreciate the coordination of others. When she was satisfied that you hadn't approached her to inform her of any predatory men or injuries, she relaxed a bit.
The motion of the dance floor swirled around the two of you, bodies colliding and singing and drinking. But Marlene didn't move an inch, waiting for you to say what you needed to. After years of learning your habits, she knew that all you usually needed was time.
She was right. Your heart was pounding in your ears and you knew if you waited even a moment longer you would lose your courage. So you cautiously took another step towards her, and then another, until your noses were almost touching. Her sharp features meeting your softer ones. You were closer to her than youâd ever been, booze keeping your inhibition at bay. You could smell the firewhiskey on her breath and the dark perfume she wore. That was even more intoxicating than the whiskey.
Oh.
Marleneâs surprise only lasted for a second, and then her lips turned up into a smirk and she grabbed your palms. Suddenly it was just the two of you in the room.
Then she was guiding your hands to her waist. Your breath caught as she pulled you in by your hips, her hands staying low on your body. You were flush with her now, and you looked up at her slightly taller figure. You flushed immensely, suddenly conscious of the revealing, form-fitting black dress you let Lily convince you to borrow.
Marlene started moving to the music again, but slowly, giving you time to stop her if you wanted to. You didnât. She leaned around to your ear, letting her hands paw at your hips, lighting you on fire.
âHey, Princess.â Marleneâs affectionate nickname for you spilled from her lips. âMiss me?â Her breath fanned your ear and you forgot how to breathe.
You couldnât tell if she was mocking you. The alcohol in your system spoke before you could decide, âYesâŠâ
Marlene guided your hips with her hands, the tops of her fingers barely gracing the underside of your arse. âLike this, Princess, you got it.â You finally dared yourself to meet her eyes again, only to find them staring into yours without even a hint of scorn. âYou look delectable tonight.â
You didnât think it was possible, but you blushed harder and looked away. Making sure in the process that you did not stare at Marleneâs perfect, perky breasts pouring out of her corseted top.
âThanks, Marls, you- you do too. You a-always do,â you managed to stutter out.
âYeah?â Marlene bent to your ear again. âHave you been keeping a secret from me, Princess?â Her fingers rubbed little circles into your hips and thigh. You were rocking to the music on your own, now. Reveling in how good it felt to be this close to your friend. âThatâs it, feel the music. Just like that. Good girl,â Marlene whispered into your ear.
You tried to respond, but only whimpers escaped you. Marleneâs hips got more aggressive at that, rocking into you like they had that Ravenclaw girl. You dared to move your hands, and feel the curve of her waist and hips. You caressed her body like youâd been longing to this past year.
Marleneâs mouth moved to the skin below your ear, where she placed firm kisses in time with her thrusts. In between the beats of the music, her wet tongue slid further and further down your throat. She picked a spot near your collarbone and latched on. With every heavy bass note that reverberated through the nightclub, Marlene claimed you.
Boom.
Marlene pulled you into her waiting pelvis, slender digits digging into your soft, plush, hips.
Boom.
You held fast to Marlene's hips, shoulders, neck... meeting her sensual, stimulating thrusts with your lower body.
Boom.
Marlene sucked hard at your neck, kissing and biting and licking your skin, salty with sweat.
Boom.
Your hands were in her hair.
Boom.
Like you imagined that night in the common room.
Boom.
You were dizzy with lust for the dark-skinned woman whose hands were all over you.
Boom.
Boom.
Boom.
Between the firewhiskey and the desire coursing through you, you didnât even notice Lily approaching until Marlene pulled away from you, seeming a bit embarrassed, which was so jarringly unlike her you thought maybe you were passing out.
You were about to ask what was wrong, but Marlene put her finger to your lips. âLetâs get out of here, Princess,â she said, sounding apologetic and not meeting your wide eyes.
You pouted, wondering if you did something wrong, but nodded your assent anyway, trying not to focus too hard on the tone of Marleneâs last âPrincessâ.
But when you turned to leave, you saw them. In the doorway stood three looming figures. James, Sirius, and⊠Remus.
Oh. Oh noâŠ
Scent
f!reader stumbles upon Sirius Black's prized leather jacket after a long day.
Sirius x Reader Fluff
1078 wds
Warnings: Peter Pettigrew exists / Implied toenail violence / Possesiveness if you really squint / Cringe innuendo?
~~~
You really didnât mean to.
Your day had been, in a word, exhausting. A fire was already warming the cool stone of the Gryffindor common room when Lily let you in, and Peter was dragging his finger along a book, reading. Your body ached from Divination. Evidently, you and fire-omens didn't mix. After dutifully greeting your friends, you looked around the crimson-draped room for Sirius.
âJames is at Quidditch practice, and managed to drag Sirius and Remus along. I imagine theyâll be back any minute, now,â Lily said, reading the grandfather clock in the corner. She must have noticed your wandering eyes. âUnless, of course, they land themselves in immediate detention before they make it back.â Her voice chimed with a hint of laughter.
You chuckled softly, sleepiness making the sound light and breathy, paling in comparison to Lilyâs ethereal, windchime laugh.
You sighed, âIâll come back later, then.â
âNonsense! Stay. You know youâre always welcome with us.â
You bit your lip and looked at the clock. Lily was right, the boys should be there soon. If they could refrain from terrorizing too many students on the walk through the castle, that is.
But sleep tugged at your eyelids. Lily was bubbly and friendly, it would be beyond rude to ignore her while she chatted with you, but you werenât sure you had it in you to pay much attention to anything other than the delightful warmth of the crackling fire and the velvet couch cushions. The Gryffindor common room carried an ever-present sense of home, and it's inviting safety beckoned...
âAlright, Iâll stay. But Iâm afraid I wonât be much fun.â You looked up from the floor at your red-headed friend, hoping she would understand. She gave a tilted smile.
âMake yourself at home, Iâll make tea.â
You gratefully strode to the sofa, and were confronted with it.
His prized possession. His statement piece. The only thing with more lingering cologne than Sirius himself. A black, musky, softened-from-wear leather jacket. His leather jacket.
It was a shocking sight to see it flung so casually over the armrest. When the garment wasnât around Siriusâ shoulders, it was carefully hung in the wardrobe, undoubtedly protected with a jinx or two.
You sat awkwardly beside it, very aware of where the cool leather brushed against your exposed thigh. You smoothed out the pleats in your uniform skirt.
You leaned against the other armrest, head lolling in your hand. Your mind wandered aimlessly as the soothing fire warmed your skin and echoed in your ears. Every so often, a page turned.
It canât hurt to lay down, just for a moment.
Your lips pursed as you sleepily considered the jacket beside you. Sirius had a proclivity towards dramatics when people touched it. But, he had never expressly forbade it. The scent of his cologne swaddled you, and you couldnât resist. You gently arranged it and laid down, careful not to wrinkle it too much.
Immediately, you felt like you were wrapped in Siriusâ arms. His scent overwhelmed you. You could almost feel his nimble fingers stroking your hair. You quickly slipped into the kind of sleep you only get when you feel truly safe, and happy.
~~~
Sirius always walked with a certain je ne sais quoi. He swaggered easily, with the confidence of a thousand peacocks. Today, he wore a lazy, bored smirk as he sauntered toward the common room.
He tossed and caught his wand idly, while Remus rolled his eyes. Sirius could be quite the show-off.
âWould you cut that out? Youâll send poor Longbottomâs toenails growing inward.â
âHeâd be alright. âS still less embarassing than your hairy feet, yeah?â
An elbow jab. Another eye roll.
âGit.â
âTosser.â
Remus scoffed, but couldnât hide the amused glint from his eyes. Sirius puffed out his chest a bit more.
âPassword?â The Fat Ladyâs voice was pitched as high as her nose when the boys approached.
âToad Nostrils,â Remus said, slight disdain tainting his otherwise calm demeanor. Sirius couldnât help but chuckle at the prefect.
The portrait swung open and the boys walked in to the long-abandoned common room.
Remus saw you first, hair splayed in a halo over the deep red sofa. Sirius started to call something out, so Remus elbowed him and nodded at your sleeping form, a tender smile on his lips.
A wide, mischievious grin grew on Siriusâ face. He practically flew to your side, across the common room in barely three strides. He admired your peaceful expression, eyebrows free of worry for once. An untouched cup of tea on the stand beside your head.
He knelt to brush a lock of hair from your face when he saw what you were resting on.
His chuckle was low. âOh, Doll. What am I going to do with you?â His voice rasped in your ear and you stirred, but sleep still had its grip on you.
Sirius looked at Remus with a dark smirk. Remus crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow, as if to say what did you expect? But Remus knew how Sirius could get about his jacket, so he silently padded up the stairs. If anyone could get away with it, it was you, but he still didn't want to be anywhere in the vicinity when you awoke.
Sirius eyed your form again, lingering on the way your skirt bunched up around your hips. His jaw set as he thought about who may have wandered through before he arrived.
Just then, you gave a little yawn and your fingers tightened on the black leather. You pulled it close around your neck, completely unaware of the two green eyes studying you ravenously.
âLittle minx,â Sirius muttered. He gently tugged at his jacket, trying to free it from your sleeping, thieving hands.
You hummed a soft groan, consciousness robbing you of your peaceful nap. âGo away, âm sleeping.â
âOh, I know.â Siriusâ eyes glinted in the dark. âYour sleepinâ on my jacket, Doll.â
Your eyes fluttered open. They were wide with surprise and fear, but the rest of your face was too tired to match the expression, so you looked more like a fawn. Sirius almost swooned then and there. Almost.
ââM sorry, Siri.â Sirius melted at your endearment. You didnât use it often, you must have been truly exhausted.
You waited for Sirius to say something, anything to give you an idea of where his mind was at. His devious grin reminded you of when he was about to hex the lights out of someone, but his eyes were soft. When he stayed silent, you added, âIt just⊠smells like you.â
With that, Sirius was yours.
He moved your hair out of your dark eyes and pressed an airy kiss to your forehead, his rings cold against your cheek.
âIs that so? Well, prepare to pay the price of your pilfering. Câmon, up you go.â
You groaned a little louder this time, but Sirius ignored you. He lifted you from your warmed spot on the couch with one large hand behind your head and the other around you waist. When you were (mostly) upright, he leaned your lolling head on his shoulder and rescued his kidnapped jacket. He positioned himself where it used to be, and guided you back onto his chest.
But then Sirius noticed your fingers still clutching to his leather garment. He tried to insert his own hand in yours, but you just hummed and held the jacket tighter.
âHave you no shame, woman?â Sirius whispered into your ear in mock astonishment. âTo steal my most prized possession, and even in defeat, refuse to relinquish it?â
You smiled against his chest and reluctantly let go. Sirius awkwardly wrapped the jacket around the two of you like a blanket, mumbling something about how much trouble you were in. But you couldnât concentrate on much else besides his intoxicating scent. So instead of responding to his dramatics, you offered a contented sigh and snuggled closer to your boyfriend.
You felt Siriusâ finger combing through your hair for real, now. He pressed a hard, firm kiss to the top of your head.
âYouâre in so much trouble. âM gonna make you so sorry,â Sirius sighed into your hair and closed his eyes. âYou really that tired?â
âMmhmm. Had to do smoke dances in Divination. To draw out the symbols,â your breathy voice came.
Sirius inhaled deeply, savoring the way you clutched his uniform. âHmm. Sounds like rubbish.â
You exhaled in something between a sigh and a scoff. Sirius thought most Divination was rubbish, but he was right about the smoke dances, so you didnât press him on it this time. Besides, he was too warm and soft and comfy to argue with right now.
âYou gonna do any smokinâ dances fâme?â
âSmoke dances. Itâs more arm waving than dancing. But, maybe. If you forgive me for the jacket.â
You felt Sirius grin above you. âNot a chance, Doll.â
Next thing you knew, he was peppering âpunishmentâ kisses to the top of your head, and you were falling into a deep slumber with the man you love.