#remus lupin fluff

[colouredbyd]

bambi, oh bambi

poly!marauders x reader ♡ 3.6k

synopsis: shifting for the first time to surprise your boyfriends leaves you a whirlwind of nerves, but with the guidance of your closest companions, you discover an animagus form that feels entirely, unexpectedly like you.

warnings: sweetheart!reader, r is shy and anxious, r is best friends with regulus and barty, animagus transformation, magic, snow, fluff, panic and anxiety, seasonal cold/snow, mild self-doubt, feelings of nervousness and vulnerability.

You stand nervously in the middle of the snow, your breath rising in small clouds as it meets the crisp winter air. Every nerve in your body feels alive, tingling with anticipation and fear. 

Pandora and Regulus are both staring at you, their expressions calm but attentive, while you panic and spiral quietly to yourself. 

Your thoughts feel heavy, though you are still very much yourself, very much human, in this moment.

“It is completely normal to feel nervous during your first transformation,” Pandora says gently, kneeling slightly in the snow to be closer to your level. 

“Especially when you do not even know what your Animagus will be.”

You shake your head, panic prickling in your chest. “I… I don’t know if I can do this,” you admit, your voice trembling. Your hands fidget with the cuff of your sleeve. “What if I fail? What if I hurt myself?”

Regulus steps a little closer, his hands shoved into the pockets of his coat, his expression composed yet firm. “You will not hurt yourself,” he says, his voice low, carrying a quiet certainty. “I know you. You are careful, and precise. Even your first attempt will not be dangerous.”

Your eyes widen as worry twists in your stomach. “But what if my Animagus is dangerous? What if it is something wild or… I don’t know… something I cannot control?”

Regulus lets out a short, amused chuckle. “You are my best friend. You would not be capable of producing anything dangerous. And honestly, I would not be surprised if it turns out to be something completely harmless. Likea  butterfly.”

You pout, shoulders tense, feeling a little relief at his attempt at humor but still trembling. “I don’t know how to transform. What if I just… cannot do it?”

Pandora opens her notebook carefully, the pages crisp against the cold air. “Don’t worry,” she says, flipping to the page she has marked. 

“We will go through the instructions step by step. Focus on your breathing. Relax your muscles. Visualize the form you wish to take. Imagine every part of your body shifting, folding, and changing until it feels natural.”

Regulus crouches slightly beside you, watching you carefully, his dark eyes bright with encouragement. 

“The first time I transformed,” he says, a faint grin tugging at his lips, “I became a cat. Tiny, soft, and like a black shadow. I hid under the couch for hours because I was terrified I would break something or scare someone. But I learned to control it. You will, too. It is just a matter of patience and practice.”

You bite your lip, your gaze dropping to the untouched snow beneath your feet. “It still feels… impossible.”

Pandora reaches out and gently rests a hand near your shoulder, careful not to startle you. “Nothing worth doing comes without some fear. It is natural. The important part is that you try. That you don’t give up on yourself before you even begin.”

Regulus leans a little closer, lowering his voice to something almost conspiratorial. “I will be right here watching and making sure nothing goes wrong. I promise. And if it does… well, we will handle it together.”

You take a deep breath, feeling the crisp winter air fill your lungs, and step carefully back onto the thin ice near the edge of the frozen stream. You pull your scarf tighter, though it is heavy and awkward against your suddenly smaller frame. 

Pandora kneels a few steps away, her notebook still in her hands. She tilts her head slightly, watching you with gentle patience. “Remember the steps,” she says softly. 

“Relax. Focus. Visualize. You have worked for months for this. You can do it.”

You tense your muscles, every fiber of your body trembling, and let the magic flow. It begins at your toes, a strange tickling warmth that moves up your legs. 

The sensation is dizzying, surreal, like every bone and muscle is bending in impossible ways. Your heart pounds, and you stumble on the ice, flailing slightly before your hooves catch.

When the shift is over, you stare down. Your hooves press into the snow, delicate and firm. Your legs feel both fragile and alive. You take a small, tentative step and then another, testing balance and coordination. 

The cold snow presses against your fur, sparkling on the tips of your coat. 

You flick your ears nervously, eyes wide, and glance toward Pandora and Regulus.

Their reactions hit you like a shock. Pandora gasps softly. “Oh… my…” Her eyes are wide, full of awe.

Regulus steps closer, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, though his voice carries a quiet wonder. “Incredible,” he says, crouching slightly. 

Your tail flicks nervously, and you back up a few steps toward the frozen stream. You pause at the edge and lower your head toward the ice, sniffing, trying to understand yourself in this body.

The reflection that stares back at you makes your chest tighten with disbelief. Small, wide eyes, soft brown fur, and delicate white spots across your back.

A little deer. 

You paw at the snow, testing your legs, and take a careful step forward, then another, discovering the agility in your new form.

Pandora tilts her head, eyes widening with so much joy that she practically glows. Her breath bursts out in a delighted cloud as she claps both hands over her mouth.

“Oh my god, you are like a little fawn!” she squeals, bouncing on her toes as if she cannot contain the excitement. “Look at you! You are tiny and spotted and absolutely precious!”

She crouches down a little, leaning closer with shining eyes.

Regulus chuckles lightly, crouching so he is level with your eyes. “I would never have guessed, but it suits you.”

Your ears twitch at every sound—the whisper of the wind, the crunch of snow beneath Regulus’ boots, the distant caw of a bird. 

A tiny, excited leap carries you forward, snow spraying around your hooves. Your movements are clumsy but joyful, and a little thrill of freedom surges through you. 

Pandora claps her hands softly, and Regulus leans back, eyes bright with amusement and pride.

The snow, the forest, the cold, the magic;; it all feels like it is yours, in this moment, completely and beautifully yours.

The second you shift back into your human body, you stumble straight onto your knees in the snow. A rush of wild exhilaration bursts through your chest, so powerful you can barely breathe.

I did it!” you gasp, practically choking on your own smile. “I did it, I did it! Pandora, Regulus, did you see that?”

You don’t even wait for an answer. You throw yourself at Pandora so fast she lets out a startled squeal of laughter as she catches you.

“You did it, sweetheart!” she cries, gripping your shoulders and shaking you a little in excitement. “You were amazing! I knew you would get it!”

You shake with excitement and cling to her a moment longer before turning and launching yourself at Regulus. 

He stands with his arms half-raised, pretending he is not expecting it, although his eyes soften the moment you collide with him.

“Regulus!” you gasp, grabbing the front of his coat and practically bouncing on your feet. “i was a deer—a real deer! with spots and hooves and everything!”

His arms come around you slowly, steady and grounding, as if he wants to hold onto your excitement without letting it overwhelm you. His voice is low, smooth, calm.

“I know,” he says. “I saw the entire thing.”

You pull back a little, cheeks flushed, breath quick. “Did I look strange? Did I look ridiculous?”

He tilts his head, meeting your worried gaze, and a small, almost imperceptible smile touches his lips. “No. You were amazing,” he says softly. “Even when if the transformation was a little sloppy, it was perfect. You handled it better than anyone could have expected.”

You cover your face with your hands, heart pounding, and he gently moves your fingers aside, brushing snow from your hair.

“But you were also adorable,” he adds quietly. “A very, very adorable deer.”

You couldn’t help but feel giddy on the inside at Regulus’s praise. 

He may have been your best friend and closest companion, but it was rare for Regulus, of all people, to show any emotion at all—let alone let his pride seep through the cracks of his carefully maintained walls.

A word of praise from Reggie, meant the world to you. It made your chest feel lighter, your heart warmer, and every bit of hard work you’d poured into becoming an Animagus feel completely worth it.

Pandora laughs again, brushing snow off your sleeve. “You should be proud. What a beautiful Animagus form.”

Regulus steps back and lifts one eyebrow. “Well then. Off you go, amour. Go show your boyfriends before you burst from excitement.”

You gasp dramatically and clutch Pandora’s hands. “We have to go. I need to tell them right now.”

Pandora squeezes your hands with the same excitement. “Go. They will be thrilled.”

****

“James!” you call the moment you burst into the common room. 

You don’t even wait for him to answer — you grab his wrist with both hands and start tugging. “Come on, come on, come on, I need to show you something!”

James barely has time to blink. “Merlin, love— what’s got into you?” He’s stumbling after you, curls bouncing, but he’s already smiling because you’re smiling.

“Sirius!” you call over your shoulder. “Remus! Get over here!”

A groan answers you from the couch. “It’s snowing,” Sirius complains, dramatically wrapping himself tighter in a blanket. “Do you know what snow does to my hair?”

“You’ll survive!” you say, breathless and glowing. “Please, Pads, it’s really— really— really important.”

Before Sirius can argue again, Remus appears from the hallway, book still in hand, scarf slung over his arm. He takes one look at you, practically vibrating with joy, and his whole expression softens.

He steps forward and gently cups your face with both cold hands. “Dovey,” he murmurs, brushing his thumb over your cheek, “take a breath. You’re shaking.”

“I know,” you say, grinning so hard your eyes crinkle. “I’m sorry— I just— it’s important, Moony.”

“No apologizing.” He smiles faintly. “Just slow down enough so we can keep up with you.”

“Right— right, okay,” you say, even though you’re still bouncing a little on your toes.

Sirius slinks over now, muttering under his breath, blanket still draped around him like a cape. “This better be worth frostbite.”

“It is,” you say, nearly squealing.

James squeezes your hand, brows raised in playful intrigue. “Are we going to pull a prank? Because if this is about causing some trouble, I’d like to mentally prepare first.”

“No! Well— no. Not this time.” You tug him closer. “It’s a surprise.”

Remus lets out a small, fond sigh and flicks his wand. Scarves whoosh out of his bag and wrap themselves neatly around each of your necks, warm as a cup of tea. 

“If we’re going out,” he says, adjusting yours with gentle fingers, “we’re doing it without any of you getting sick.”

Sirius brightens immediately as the warmth hits him. “You should’ve led with the free winter gear,” he says, looping his scarf twice. “Very persuasive.”

“Alright,” James says, squeezing your shoulders, “where to, sweetheart?”

“Outside,” you say, practically glowing. “Hurry!”

Sirius opens the door with a flourish, snow drifting in on a soft, icy breeze.

You step into the center of the courtyard, breath puffing in front of you in little clouds. The boys stand a few feet away, bundled in their scarves, waiting.

But now that they’re actually here, watching you… your heart stutters. Nerves flutter in your stomach. You take a small step back.

Sirius tilts his head, a curious smile tugging on his lips.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he teases, “what is it you’re dying to show us?”

James laughs breathlessly. “Yeah, love, you’re scaring us a little.”

You swallow, nod once, inhale deeply—

And then you shift.

The world ripples around you, magic curling over your skin like warm light, and in a blink, you’re standing on four legs in the snow.

A small, soft deer with your fur dusted with flakes, breath steaming in the cold.

Three pairs of eyes widen dramatically.

For one perfect moment, silence.

Then—

James absolutely screams.

“Holy— Merlin’s scruffy stag— when— how— what—!”

James grabs Sirius’s arm, his eyes wide as if holding onto someone might help him process what he just saw.

Sirius stays frozen, mouth slightly open, completely still, like he can’t believe what he’s seeing.

Remus just blinks, taking a moment to register it all, his expression caught somewhere between shock and awe.

You stamp your little hooves impatiently, looking at them with wide, pleading eyes, as if to say, Well??

James is the first to find his voice, stumbling over words in his excitement.

“When did you even—how did you go through the Animagus process without us knowing— ”

You can’t help it. The thrill of it, the joy of finally revealing yourself, bubbles out uncontrollably, and you jump, bouncing in the snow, spinning and hopping with excitement.

And suddenly Remus breathes out a stunned laugh. “Oh, sweetheart— come here—”

You don’t even let him finish. You gallop straight toward him and tackle him into a soft drift of snow. He goes down with a yelp and then bursts into laughter, wrapping his arms around your warm neck.

“Okay— alright— alright— you’re heavy like this—” he wheezes, still grinning up at you. “Merlin, you’re beautiful.”

You nuzzle his cheek before prancing away, hooves crunching through the fresh layer of snow.

James is already crouched, eyes wide with pure awe and giddy pride.

“Look at you!” he gushes, one hand reaching out carefully to stroke between your ears. “You’re perfect. D’you know that? Absolutely perfect.”

You lick his sleeve and he laughs like a little kid.

Then you turn to Sirius.

He hasn’t moved at all.

He’s standing like someone hit him with Petrificus Totalus, except his eyes are huge and soft and the tips of his ears are pink from the cold.

You trot up to him and blink up at him with wide doe eyes.

He inhales sharply. “Oh… oh no,” he whispers. “You’re— you’re literally the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.”

He drops to his knees instantly, hands hovering like he’s afraid to break you.

“I have so many questions— so many— but I can’t think right now because your little face is attacking my soul.”

You poke his side with your velvety nose.

He giggles.  “Oh, that’s illegal— don’t look at me like that— Bloody hell, you’re adorable—”

He finally wraps his arms around your neck, burying his face into your fur. “I’m never letting you be human again.”

You snort loudly, which makes him laugh even harder.

And then—

James shifts into his stag beside you, tall and magnificent, nudging your shoulder with a joyful snort.

Sirius rolls his eyes, stands up, and transforms in a smooth wave of magic — a huge black dog shaking snow from his fur.

You squeak (or… whatever the deer equivalent of a squeak is) and immediately bolt across the courtyard.

Prongs and Padfoot charge after you, hooves and paws thundering through the snow.

Remus stays human, arms crossed, scarf fluttering in the wind, laughing helplessly as you dart behind him for protection.

He places one steady hand on your back.

You press closer to Remus, hiding half behind him, peeking out just enough to flick your ears at the two troublemakers.

Remus laughs and pats your side.

“My brave girl,” he teases softly. “Hiding behind the man who can’t even shift.”

You nudge him indignantly.

Padfoot and Prongs are still waiting for another chase, but both of them stay where they are when Remus places one calming hand on your back.

“It’s alright,” he murmurs. “Take your time. Whenever you are ready.”

You close your eyes. The magic rises again, warm and familiar now, like sunlight curling through your limbs. Your shape shifts. Your hooves sink into the snow and dissolve. Your fur pulls inward. The world tilts once, gently, and then settles.

You are human again.

Your knees fold, and you collapse forward into Remus’s chest, breath coming out in a startled gasp. 

His arms tighten instantly, closing around you with a fierceness that makes your heart swell.

Remus’s hand rests lightly on your back, his voice soft as he leans down. “You alright?”

You lift your head just enough to meet his gaze, still flushed and breathless, and nod. “Yeah.”

Then, with a little nervous grin, you stare up at him. “Soooo… what do you think?”

He lets out a quiet, fond chuckle, brushing a hand through your hair. “I think… you’re amazing.”

You peek up at him through the scarf, a little shy but still glowing with excitement. “You… really think so?”

“I do,” Remus says quietly, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “You were incredible. All of it. I’m proud of you.”

Your chest swells, and you can’t help the soft, delighted laugh that escapes you. “Thank you… I was so worried you’d think it was silly or—”

Before you can finish, a loud chorus breaks through the calm.

“There she is!” James cries, barreling through the snow toward you, his hair dusted with flakes, a grin plastered across his face.

“You have an unbelievable amount of explaining to do, darling,” he announces, although his voice is far too warm to be truly scolding.

You giggle and pull your scarf close, cheeks warm despite the cold. Remus keeps one arm wrapped firmly around you as if he refuses to let you go now that you are back in human form.

“I know,” you say, still breathless and glowing. “I know I should’ve told you sooner. I just… needed to be sure. I didn’t want to say anything until I knew it was real.”

James’ brows lift, but his eyes are nothing but warm. “So all of this… has been going on for a while, then?”

You nod, hands twisting together for a moment before you make yourself meet their eyes. “A little over a month. Pandora helped me with the theory — she’s brilliant, honestly — and she was so patient with me. Every single time I messed up, she just tried again with me.”

Sirius snorts softly, though his smile is fond. “Of course she did. Pandora Lovegood could teach a rock to dance if she felt like it.”

You laugh, cheeks warming. “And Regulus helped too with the practical pieces. Making sure I didn’t try anything too reckless. He’s… very steady. He kept me grounded.”

James hums under his breath, impressed. “So he knew before we did.”

“Only by an hour!” you say quickly, as if it matters. “Today was the first time anything actually worked. And as soon as it did, I ran straight here.”

That earns you three different smiles, all of them soft.

Sirius nudges your shoulder gently. “Good. Because seeing you turn into that little deer might be the cutest thing that has ever happened in my entire life.”

You hide your face in your hands for a second, which only makes James laugh and pull your hands back down so he can see you. “Hey,” he says softly, “none of that. We’re amazed. That’s all.”

Remus’ hand finds its place on your back, slow and steady, his touch radiating reassurance. “You did something incredibly difficult, love,” he murmurs. “And you did it beautifully.”

Your breath catches in your throat, not because of nerves this time, but because of how full your chest feels.

You end up pulled into all three of them at once, completely surrounded and impossibly warm despite the snow drifting around your boots. 

James presses a kiss to your cheek. “I’m so proud of you.”

Remus tightens his hold just slightly, voice low against your ear. “We all are.”

Sirius rests his chin on your shoulder. “Our little Bambi,” he says with a grin you can hear. 

You let out a tiny laugh, too flustered to hide it. “Bambi?”

James grins. “Well, we can’t exactly keep calling you dovey now that we know you’ve been prancing around the forest behind our backs.”

Remus leans in slightly, his breath warm against your temple. “So,” he murmurs, a subtle smile in his voice, “do you want us to stick with dovey… or should we be calling you Bambi now?”

Your cheeks warm immediately. You duck your head a little, trying not to smile too widely.

“I don’t know,” you say honestly, the words coming out softer than you intend. “Either one is fine.”

Sirius snorts lightly. “That’s not an answer.”

You laugh under your breath, nudging him with your shoulder. “I don’t have a preference,” you admit, eyes flicking between all three of them. “If it’s from you, I’ll like it.”

James’ smile softens, warm enough to melt the snow still clinging to your coat.  

“Well then,” he murmurs, brushing a bit of snow from your hair, “come on, Bambi. Let’s get you inside before you freeze.”

[moonstruckme]

If you’re doing the new girl au out of order I would looove to request Remus and reader having a lil make out during their secret relationship period thinking “okay we have this much time before Sirius gets home and this much time before James gets home” but then everyone starts coming home early

Thanks for requesting!

a/n: Please do not misconstrue my participation in the marauders fandom as support of JKR. If you’re new here and want to participate in the fandom, I encourage you to do so without participating in anything that would provide financial gain to her or her vile agendas

Marauders New Girl AU

roommate!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words

The problem with kissing your flatmate is that it takes over your home life. There’s no escaping thoughts of him. You’ll be brushing your teeth, and the smell of him fresh out of the shower will leave you dribbling toothpaste out of the corner of your mouth, or you’ll catch yourself staring at his lips while your other flatmates sit between you on the sofa watching a film, or he’ll come into the kitchen to tell you that you’re home alone, and you’ll wind up boiling over your pasta water because you were too busy shoving your tongue down his throat. 

Remus reaches over to shut off the hob. “That can wait until later,” he says, his voice gone raspy in the way that makes your stomach hug your spine, “yeah?” 

“I wasn’t that hungry anyway,” you agree. 

He smiles into your mouth, the material of your top bunching in his fingers. An embarrassing, needy sound sighs out of you when Remus presses you into the counter. “Sirius decided to join James and Lily at the cinema.” 

“James told me that he—” You can’t think properly when he touches you like this. “—that he wouldn’t be back until late.” 

“Which means we have time,” Remus finishes the thought for you. He gets his hands under your thighs, hefting you onto the counter in one strong motion. Blood rushes to your face. 

The concept of time has never seemed more enticing. 

“We don’t have to rush,” Remus goes on, kissing you more gently. Your cheek, your chin. “Are you sure you don’t want to eat?” 

You shake your head quickly. “I can eat later.” 

“Sure?” 

“Yeah.” You bump your nose into his, angling for his lips. “Remus…” 

“Alright,” he soothes. His hand slips beneath your shirt, fingers splaying over your side as though to steady you. “Alright.” 

Remus’ touches are slow and sure, but he trembles with each tiny sound from you. It fills you with a blooming pride to think that it’s you making him unsteady. Quiet, composed Remus, undone by a touch of your bare skin. You feel like a teenager, stealing kisses in spare moments and wondering whether you should let a boy take your top off, hoping you won’t get caught. 

“Bed?” Remus rasps after a while. Your legs have tightened around him like a vice, like you’re worried he’s going to slip away. “Or sofa?” 

You must look a bit startled, because he puts an inch between you, color rising to his cheeks. 

“Not so—I don’t want to rush anything,” he tells you with an amused, breathy sound. His hand comes up to cover the crown of your head. “I just keep worrying you’re going to knock yourself on the cabinet.” 

You laugh and duck down to kiss him. “Bed,” you agree. 

“Yours or mine?” 

“Definitely yours.” You hop down from the counter. Remus' hand slips behind you as though to keep you from going far. “Mine’s too messy.” 

He huffs a laugh. “I’ve lived with Sirius and James for years. I’m used to mess.” 

“I know yours is tidy, though,” you tease him. 

“Actually, I think I left a cup on the nightstand…” 

You laugh again, warm and giddy, curling your fingers in his jumper to tug him towards his bedroom. Remus smiles as he lets you. 

You make it two steps before the door opens. 

“Why would I want to go at eight on a Thursday?” James’ voice echoes down the hall. “Why would anyone?” 

You look at Remus with wide eyes. He’s frowning in the direction of the front door as though he has a mind to scold your flatmates for coming home early. 

“Because,” replies Sirius, sounding sour, “not everyone feels they have to be tucked into bed at ten.” 

“It’s a weeknight, though. I’m surprised they’d even show anything that late on a weeknight.” 

You walk Remus backwards quickly. His brows cinch as he steps into the pantry, just before you shut the door. 

“That late is eight o’clock, James.” 

You dash from the kitchen, throwing yourself onto the couch just as your flatmates emerge from the hallway. 

“Some of us,” Sirius goes on, “would call that the beginning of the night.” 

You pick up the book you left on the coffee table earlier. When Sirius glances over, it looks as though you’ve been reading the whole while. 

“Oh, hi.” You blink up at him. “What are you doing back?” 

James looks sheepish. Sirius heaves a long, dramatic sigh. “James bought tickets for the wrong night.” 

“They want to start showing a film at eight on a Thursday,” James tells you. “Obviously I thought they were for tonight when I saw the time. Isn’t that insane?” 

“That’s…uh, insane, yeah.” 

Sirius narrows his eyes at you. “Why do you look like that?” 

You open your mouth. Shut it again. “Like what?” 

“All…” He waves a hand in your general direction, his mouth screwing up. “Ruffled. God, you’re not reading porn on our sofa, are you?” 

“What?” You sit up, your voice climbing. “No! Jesus, Sirius, you’re—this is a romance novel.” 

James looks like he might laugh, but Sirius only wrinkles his nose. “You’re a libertine. At least take it out of the common space. Isn’t Remus around here somewhere?” 

“I don’t know,” you huff, standing from the couch and taking your book with you. “You’re disgusting. Fine, I’ll read in my room.” 

You shut your door, opening your bedroom window spitefully in the hopes the pollen from the tree outside sets off Sirius’ hay fever. Serves him right. You try to open your book and actually read, but you can’t focus. 

It’s a few minutes later that Remus opens your door quietly. 

You sit up, nervous. “I’m sorry.” 

“Mhm,” he says. “What was your plan, back in there?” 

“I panicked,” you admit. “It was the first thing I thought of.” 

“Shoving me into the pantry?” Remus pauses. All you can do is nod abashedly. “Well, James was rather surprised when he went looking for something for supper and found me instead.” 

You cover your mouth. “No.” 

“Yeah. We left your pasta on the hob, too, by the way.” 

“What did you tell him about why you were in there?” 

“I told him I was thinking.” 

“No.” A giggle spurts out of you. You press your hand harder over your mouth, but they escape between your fingers. “Oh my god, did you really?” 

“You think that’s funny, do you?” Remus asks, grinning as he crawls onto your bed. Your teeth click together when he kisses you. “I didn’t know what else to say. I’m not usually prepared to be discovered in a pantry.” 

“I really am sorry,” you say helplessly.

Remus’ eyes roll. He cups your cheek. “I know we spoke about keeping this between us for now, but I don’t think we have to go to great lengths to do it.” 

“No, I know.” You lay down, more letting yourself be kissed than kissing, hyper-aware of your flatmates in the other room. “I really just panicked. If it makes you feel any better, Sirius thought I was reading smut in the sitting room.” 

Remus chuckles. “I heard that, yeah.”

“Were you laughing at me in the pantry?” 

“Maybe a little.” He kisses your jaw, brushing his lips over the shell of your ear. “I won’t be your dirty secret,” he murmurs.

“I’m fairly sure I’m your dirty secret, if anyone is.” You match his volume. “If this happens again, I’ll let you shove me out the window so we’re even.” 

Remus hums, considering. “No. I’m too much of a gentleman for that.” 

“Well, now I’m starting to feel bad.” 

“Oh, now you are?”

[lqveharrington]

Professor Lupin

summary: You and Remus are married, and it just so happens that Dumbledore has hired him to be Hogwarts new DADA professor while you already work at Hogwarts as Madam Pomfrey’s assistant.

pairing: Remus Lupin x professor(?)!healer!reader

includes: MAJOR FLUFF, you and snape act like children, remus being the best husband, the golden trio being the golden trio, making out, essentially everything you could find in any HP fic, minimal use of Y/N

a/n: I’m rereading the HP series and I forgot how much love I had for Remus 🩷

You and Remus had known each other since you accidentally tripped in front of him during your first year at Hogwarts—well, more like fell into his back on the express going to Hogwarts. Granted, you weren’t looking where you were going, but it’s not like he was supposed to be standing in the halls for that long. No matter, the two of you have always been as thick as thieves since then, and it wasn’t a surprise to anyone when you began dating during your sixth year and eventually got married soon after graduating. 

And when you had your heart set on becoming a healer—specifically one for Hogwarts—Remus was your number one supporter. He was your backbone during the NEWTs in your seventh year and during your training at St. Mungo’s. Remus was always there when you needed a breather. Then, when Dumbledore hired you as Madam Pomfrey’s assistant, he was the first one to congratulate you on the achievement.

Moreover, you were always there when he needed support, too. During the first wizarding war, there were so many casualties that it was impossible to count them. And when James and Lily died, you were the first to comfort Remus—especially when it was brought up that Sirius might have been the one to expose their whereabouts to Voldemort and even kill Peter when he tried to defend the Potters. 

You weren’t close with James and Lily, but Remus was their best friend, and you knew losing nearly all his friends in a span of a few days hurt like hell. It took a lot of love and reassurance to get Remus to get out of your shared bedroom and get ready for their funerals. 

Nevertheless, it was trials like those that made the two of you the perfect pair. But something always ate at your insides. Since Remus was a werewolf, no one in the wizarding world would want him to work for them. Even if he never told them about his condition, they could easily piece together why he would disappear from work every full moon. 

Remus told you he didn’t mind staying home and caring for the house, but you swore you saw the light in his eyes dim a little more every time he came back from an unsuccessful job hunt. So—against your better judgment—you sought out Dumbledore after a term at Hogwarts, when another Defense Against the Dark Arts professor had been sacked. 

“Professor Dumbledore, sir!” You chased after him after you watched the last student leave the castle, smiling up at him with the same smile from your own years at Hogwarts. “Sir, I think I have the perfect replacement for the DADA position.”

Dumbledore hummed and waved his hand, lighting the rest of the candles in the corridor. “How many times have I told you to call me Albus? We work together, Y/N.”

“Sorry, sir— Albus.” You correct yourself before shaking your head. Twisting your wedding ring, you spoke up with a sparkle in your eyes. “As I was saying before, I think—”

“I know you want me to hire Remus for the job.” He cut you off, putting a hand up when you were about to speak up again. “I believe that’s a wonderful idea. And given what he is, I’m sure he knows all about what should be taught to the students.”

You beam up at him, “I’m glad we’re on the same page then, sir—Albus.” You correct yourself once more when he stares at you intently, your face flushing before clearing your throat. “Sorry, it’s a habit already… I should probably tell him—”

“Do not worry about telling him about the job, Y/N,” Dumbledore said calmly, patting your shoulder. “I will handle telling him when the time comes.”

What you didn’t expect was that Dumbledore practically waited until the very end of the summer holiday to inform Remus about the available position at Hogwarts. Every day, it became more and more evident that you knew something was going to happen. Even when Remus questioned your odd behavior, you simply brushed him off and kissed him silly until he forgot what he asked. 

Well, up until Dumbledore told him. 

“Dovey, you won’t believe who I ran into at Diagon Alley.” Remus entered the living room with paper bags, kissing your cheek when you took them from him and thanked him for buying ingredients you needed for remedies Madam Pomfrey requested you make over the holiday. 

You furrow your brows in response to him, waving your wand and sorting the different ingredients alphabetically. “Who, Rem?”

“Dumbledore.” He stated and leaned back on the counter, watching your shoulder stiffen before they relaxed once more. Remus thought you couldn’t be more obvious, but he still played along. “He offered me a position at the school as the Defense Against Dark Arts professor.”

“Did he?” You murmur, refusing to turn around because you knew your eyes would give you away. You felt him get closer, his arms snaking around your waist, causing you to tilt your head in his direction, begging Godric that your eyes weren’t hinting at anything too revealing. 

He hummed, “He said a little bird told him I’ve been lonely back home.”

“Lonely?” You scoffed and pulled away from him, putting your hands on your hips. “I did not call you lonely.” 

Remus raised a brow at you—watching your face go from defensive to horrified to sheepish. He was probably more surprised than you when apologies began spilling from your lips, making him hold your arms to stop your rambling. 

“Why are you apologizing?” He rubbed soft shapes into your arms. 

“Because I offered you up for the job even when I didn’t ask you.” You murmured, pulling on the ends of your sweater. Well, technically, it was his sweater that you promptly stole from him one day. “I understand if you don’t want to take the position. I just thought—”

“Don’t be sorry. This is good.” He nudged his nose to yours, making you look up. 

You blink and look between his eyes, searching for any kind of lie. “This… is?”

Remus chuckled and kissed your forehead, his chest rumbling when you went to wipe off the kiss in confusion, thinking it was a pity kiss. “Dovey, you and Dumbledore are the only ones left who still believe in me.” He shrugged. “I think this is a great opportunity.”

“You’re not mad?”

“Of course not.” He creased his brows together before balancing himself when you threw your arms around him, his hands splaying on your back carefully. Before he could ask, you spoke, your mood greatly improved from when you thought you were in trouble. 

“I’m excited to work with you, Rem.” You smiled brightly when you pulled away, punching his arm lightly. “You’ll love it just as much as you did all those years ago.”

Unfortunately, you weren’t the only other employee at Hogwarts. While McGonagall was happy to have Remus as a professor—mainly because he was a star student back when he attended Hogwarts himself, and she trusted him to teach a class such as Defense Against the Dark Arts—Snape was anything but joyous to have him teaching a subject he wanted for himself. 

“You have to be joking.” Severus drawled as he looked between you and Remus before his eyes settled on the headmaster himself. He sighed through his nose, “Albus, I simply cannot allow a werewolf to teach the students as you put them in danger—”

“Remus knows exactly what to do during his transformations.” You defend your husband, standing in front of him despite his warm hand on your waist to calm your fire, even though Remus wanted nothing more than to hide in the shadows of Dumbledore’s office. “And we both know wolfsbane is the perfect solution to his lycanthropy, Snape. Unless you want him to suffer just so you can teach—”

“Enough.” Dumbledore put a hand up, silencing whatever argument you and Severus had left. “You have been working together for several years, and only when Remus begins working here do the two of you begin arguing like first-year students.” He looked at the man mentioned with a soft smile before staring down at you and Severus through his moon-shaped spectacles. “While Remus teaches here, you cannot act like this, do you understand?”

You sigh and nod, crossing your arms while Severus begrudgingly agrees, somesort of grunt leaving his mouth. Still, the two of you glared at each other as if Dumbledore hadn’t said anything. Remus pursed his lips in discomfort and kissed your temple in an attempt to diffuse the tension between the two of you, causing Severus to finally look away with a grimace. 

“I expect you three will be responsible and respectful this year.” Dumbledore finished in expectancy before sending you all out of the office with a simple wave of his hand. 

The three of you descended his office, the pressure between the three of you still heavily weighted down until Severus spun around abruptly. He briefly looked at you before sighing again, his eyes trained on Remus with bitterness.

“Don’t expect me to be at your beck and call, Lupin.” He sneered before taking his own leave toward the dungeons, his cloak following behind like a foreboding shadow.

You scoff under your breath, “Arsehole.”

“Dovey.” Remus suppressed a laugh, shaking his head. “Let’s go home.”

The following week was hectic for you and Remus. Having to move his stuff over to yours—now your shared quarters at Hogwarts, and then planning lessons that the last two professors failed to complete. And when the students began arriving, Remus thought it would be better for him to take the express for old times’ sake, making you roll your eyes in affection at how nostalgia hit him like a brick. 

But when you were taken away from the start-of-term feast to tend to Harry Potter because of a dementor attack, you thought the express ride was far more terrifying than nostalgic. 

“What trouble have you gotten into this time, Harry?” You tut at the boy who always came rushing to you whenever he got cut by something magical that even Ron and Hermione couldn’t explain. “I swear, you’re always back at the hospital wing at the beginning of every term.”

Harry messed with his Hogwarts robes and pushed your hand away when you put the back of your hand on his forehead. “S’not my fault. The dementors came onto the train.”

You send him a somber look, “I heard all about it from McGonagall when she called me over. Let me get you some chocolate—”

“Oh! The new professor, I think Professor Lupin was his name, gave me some already.” Harry interrupted before you could shove more chocolate in his mouth. If he was being completely honest, he was getting pretty tired of chocolate already, and the term only just started.

“Did he?” You ask almost cheerfully, confusing Harry while he nods slowly, furrowing his brows when you clapped your hands lightly. Maybe it was because he was confused about why you were clapping about the attack. “That’s good.”

And before he could even ask, Madam Pomfrey walked in and checked Harry’s temperature and then heart rate, checking in with you about other important vitals. “I hear we finally got a good DADA professor. It’s nice to have someone who knows what they teach.”

“I agree.” You nod swiftly, making Madam Pomfrey roll her eyes in your direction. Harry looked between you two again, getting more and more confused with each passing second. “What?”

“Go down to the feast, you two.” She finally waved you and Harry off.

You tilt your head in mock offense, “I’m not a child, Poppy.”

She raised her brow, “Say that to me when you aren’t coming to me whining about being tired when the twins spell first years.” You feel your face warm at her words, but she continues. “In fact, that’s what your husband is for now that he’s—”

“That’s unfair!” You complain before catching yourself, clearing your throat, and scratching the back of your neck. She stared at you expectantly, shaking her head in amusement as you apologized hastily. “Sorry, Poppy.”

“Husband?” Harry turned to you once the two of you were out of the hospital wing, catching up to your surprisingly quick pace. “You’re married?”

It was quiet for a second, the words not processing through your mind until you were at the oak doors that concealed the Great Hall, where everyone else had already begun eating. You stop just before you could push the doors open, turning to look at him face-to-face.

“Of course, I am.” You send him an odd look, yet a smile appeared on your face. “To one of the smartest wizards I know.”

“Wait a second, do we even know who it is?” He inquired, taking notice that you were getting more impatient with all his questions. For once, you seemed more eager to get inside the Great Hall than he was. 

“Oh, Harry.” You coo as if you were talking to a baby and pat his head, making him push your hand away again. “Let’s not ask the obvious.”

And with that, you pushed the oak doors open and entered the hall as if you hadn’t left Harry with so many unanswered questions. He watched you bound toward the staff table at the very front of the hall, taking your usual seat between McGonagall and whatever new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor they had this year, except the excitement he saw from you earlier only seemed to increase when you sat down. 

What was even more unusual was that Snape’s glares seemed to be aimed at the new professor and you rather than Harry. 

Harry took his seat beside Ron, looking over at Hermione. “Did you know Y/N is married?”

Hermione raised a brow at him and put her fork down, her gaze drifting toward the staff table along with Ron, who was busy stuffing his face full. “The ring on her hand wouldn’t suggest otherwise, why?” 

“Because…” Harry trailed off before shaking his head. “Nevermind, it’s not important.”

Hermione and Ron glanced at each other before shrugging, although Hermione was already planning to keep an eye on you this year. Not that it was prudent to know who exactly you were dating, but if Harry mentioned it and found it a little interesting, it wouldn’t hurt to do a little investigating. 

As the first term went by, it was more or less rough with how Remus was adjusting to teaching at Hogwarts, and with Snape constantly making snide remarks whenever Dumbledore wasn’t around, you were starting to get pissed. Even more so when Snape threatened not to make the potion for Remus one afternoon simply because you looked at him funny. 

“Severus, it is completely unjust if you refuse to make the potion.” You hiss one day in his empty classroom, staring at him with nothing but pure hatred. “Frankly, I don’t care what happened back at Hogwarts when we were younger. What I care about is whether or not he is going to be okay during the next—”

“Is it unjust?” Severus narrowed his eyes at you. “I may be crude, but what if he is helping him get onto the school grounds?”

You scoff out a laugh, “I know my husband, and he would never—”

“Er— Professor Snape?” You heard a voice coming from the potion’s doorway, making you freeze on the spot. “Professor McGonagall asked me to fetch you for—”

“Weasley, can’t you see I’m busy?” Snape sneered before taking his leave without even taking any points off the Gryffindor house. You left the classroom soon after, leaving behind fury and annoyance from the earlier conversation—not even acknowledging Ron’s existence at the moment. 

Against his better judgment, Ron followed you as best as he could, hoping you wouldn’t catch him in the act despite your indignant mood. However, when you turned west of the hospital wing, he saw a glimpse of where you were heading, only briefly hearing a voice before you slammed the door shut. 

“Dovey—”

By the start of the second term, Harry, Hermione, and Ron still had no clue who you were married to. And it’s not like you were going to give them hints—you were always one to avoid talking about your personal life whenever they tried to pry. Honestly, they were about to give up by the end of January when Ron came up with such a crazy theory on the way to their Defense Against the Dark Arts class.

“You don’t think she’s married to Snape, do you?” Ron muttered as a group of Slytherins passed, rolling his eyes when he saw them trip a Hufflepuff. 

“Don’t be ridiculous, Ron. We’ve known them for three years now. If they were married, we would know.” Hermione shook her head in exasperation, adjusting her shoulder bag. “Besides, her husband could very well not work at Hogwarts. There are thousands of wizards out there.”

Harry scuffed his shoe against the stone, his voice uncertain but clear. “But Ron said he heard someone when she entered the faculty tower.”

“That could be anyone.” She shook her head. “Come on, we'd better get to class before Malfoy decides it’s funny to take our seats again.”

At the same time, you were cooped up in Remus’ office. You just went up to check on him one last time since the full moon was coming up soon, when one thing led to another, and well… It’s not like you were doing anything indecent, but it was enough to traumatize someone if they walked into his office. 

“Okay, I have to go.” You murmur as you pull away from his kisses, laughing when he pulls you close by the waist, not wanting to let go just yet. “Remus—”

“Yeah?” He grinned and kissed you once more, making you soften under his touch. 

Smiling into the kiss, you pull away again, putting a hand up against his lips. “As much as I would love to stay here and kiss you dizzy, you have a class in about five minutes, and—” You reinforce your tone when you feel him open his mouth against your palm. “—Poppy will come after my head if I don’t show up to help her reorganize our remedy cabinet.”

Remus lolled his head to the side with honey eyes that made you melt on the spot before you shook your head, already walking backwards toward the exit of his office. “Don’t miss me too much, Lupin.”

“I’m already dying, dove.” He grinned and followed you down the stairs, hands in his pants pockets as his room began filling with Slytherins and Gryffindors, the golden trio entering the classroom with curiosity. “The three troublemakers.”

“Yep.” You murmur with a smile, waving to the three of them as you head for the door. 

Ron, however, stopped you from advancing, suspicion lacing his voice when he spoke. “What were you doing here?”

You shrugged, taking small steps toward the exit, glancing at Remus momentarily before answering Ron. Technically, you were lying to them, but they didn’t need to know your husband was a werewolf or that you were basically making out with their professor for the past twenty minutes. “Giving the new professor tips and tricks on how to deal with you lot.”

Hermione frowned, “But it’s been an entire term—”

“Have fun with DADA!” You cut the busy-haired girl off, finally taking your leave as Remus calms the class down to start their lesson on Red Caps. 

Then, in February, you and Remus decided it would be nice to actually get out of the castle for once. Of course, since there wasn’t anywhere else to go, you landed on going to Hogsmeade for the weekend. There wasn’t an exact shop or place either of you wanted to go to, but it had been a while since you and Remus went out on a date without having to be needed by the students at every waking minute. 

But it wasn’t like they didn’t approach. On the way, several students came up to you and Remus to simply say hi or how are you? You were both kind enough to respond, but truly, you just wanted to spend time together. And just as a first-year Hufflepuff named Julie left the two of you alone, you finally turned to Remus—seemingly exhausted by the number of students coming up to you. 

“We could get butterbeer?” You suggested, your arm curled around Remus’ while your old scarf billows in the wind, the stone path covered in bits of snow. You carefully stepped over a pile of gray snow, nose scrunching as you spoke. “And then we could go to Tomes and Scrolls after.”

“I like the sound of that.” He nodded and pressed a muted kiss to your temple, guiding you into the Three Broomsticks.

As you entered, Madam Rosmerta’s eyes flickered up when footsteps entered the pub, gasping when she saw the two of you appear in front of her. Instantly, she rushed over to you and pressed a kiss to your cheek before doing the same with Remus, just as though the two of you were the children she saw dancing around each other’s feelings.

“Well, isn’t this a sight to see. My favorite Gryffindors together once more.” She gushed, squeezing your arm. 

You smile and pull your scarf off, gingerly teasing her when she kept looking at the two of you in awe, as if she could hardly believe her eyes. “Stop, you’ll make me blush.” You wave her off, your own gaze shifting to pride when you catch Remus’ eyes. “Actually, Remus got a job at Hogwarts.”

“I heard.” Madam Rosmerta tilted her head with her own smile before gesturing for both of you to take a seat, wiping her hands on her apron. “I think a batch of butterbeer on me is in order.”

Remus raised his brows in surprise, shaking his head at the offer. “Please, there’s no need to—”

“I’m doing it anyway, Lupin.” She insisted and shooed you away, gently pushing the two of you away from the bar. 

You laughed softly as Remus took you to a booth, humming as you calmed down. Tilting your head, you rested your chin in your palms and studied Remus as if he were a textbook you were supposed to be studying for an exam. He raised a brow in your direction, silently asking you what you were thinking. 

“Seriously, though, I’m happy you’re here.” You say in response, eyes still trained on him. You feared that if you looked away for even a second, he would disappear. Before he could say anything, you asked him a question that you hoped would yield a positive answer. “Are you happy to be teaching here?”

Remus nudged your foot with his, a small smile making its way to your face at the simple action that filled your chest with his oh-so familiar warmth. “I would like to say so. The students are quite wonderful and are curious about what we seem to be learning.” He waved a hand around, a recognizable grin plastered on his lips. “And I guess it’s a bonus that you work here too.”

“Aw, you love me.” You chuckle, reducing to a puddle when he cupped your face and placed a tender kiss on your lips. “Remus…”

“And you know that is completely and utterly true.” He rested his forehead on yours and pressed one last peck before pulling away, acutely aware of how students from Hogwarts were gaping at you both. 

It almost seemed quiet in the Three Broomsticks now, all heads turned to where you and Remus sat. Then, several seconds later, whispers began to fill the air. Some were giddy, and some were in repulsion at the thought of the staff having a relationship outside of the school. 

“I think they know.” You mumble with a tiny smirk, thanking Madam Rosmerta when she delivers the butterbeer tankards at your table. Stirring your straw around the drink, you look around the pub as well, choking on your drink when you catch Ginny Weasley staring like she saw a ghost. 

Remus shrugs, “They definitely know, but who cares, really?” He sipped his butterbeer, causing you to wipe the excess from the corner of his lips. “I mean, the other day, we nearly had the Weasley twins walk in my office while you were—”

“Enough.” You cover his mouth, face burning from the memory. Your next words came out in a low whisper, “I thought we agreed to never mention that ever again?”He laughed against your palm and kissed the skin there. 

After your date at the Three Broomsticks, you were sure everyone knew that you and Remus were in a relationship, as there were students who seemed to tease you whenever they saw you walking in the hallway. Even McGonagall now had her fun at poking at the two of you, saying how she was the sole reason you even got together in the first place.

Unfortunately, Harry, Ron, and Hermione still couldn’t piece together that the two of you were married. Not until the three of them ran into Remus when he was on his way to see you. They suppose he was just visiting the hospital wing since he tended to be ill a lot, but he looked physically fine, confusing them for the last time, since Remus had told them that he would be busy after his final class. 

“Professor!” Harry stumbled over his own feet when he did a double-take, taking notice of how Remus was actually walking quite happily compared to most days whenever he navigated himself to the hospital wing. “I-I thought you said you were busy?”

“I am, Harry.” Remus corrected, not even sparing a glance toward the young wizard. “I’m off to the hospital wing.”

Ron furrowed his brows and looked at Harry and Hermione sideways before speaking, “Are you feeling… Okay? I mean— You know… You look fine, professor.”

He nodded and made a sharp left turn, causing the three Gryffindors to crash into one another. “I’m feeling great, Ron.” 

Hermione brushed herself off and quickly chased after Remus, not bothering to even check up on Ron and Harry. She was out of breath by the time she caught up with him, equally shocked at how lively Professor Lupin was today. Typically, they’d have to slow their own pace so he could catch up with them. 

“Sir, why—?”

“Remus! What took you so long?” You call out to him when you see him enter the hospital wing, smiling knowingly when the golden trio walks in behind him. Waving at them, you shook your head, all pieces clicking together. “I should’ve known it was you three who would slow him down.”

Hermione tucked her curled hair back, chest still rising and falling from the journey it took to get here. “Well, we were actually heading to the library when we ran into Professor Lupin—”

You clicked your tongue when you looked at the giant clock displayed above the door, “Luckily, Remus made it here on time. We’re cutting it close with our reservation at the Gilded Griffin.”

Only then did the three Gryffindors notice what you and Remus were wearing. While Remus was wearing black, sharp dress robes, they didn’t even know he owned—for he always dressed in his shabby, torn ones—you were dressed in a maroon dress that they thought was far too fancy to even wear for any occasion besides a wedding. Ron’s mouth dropped open before Hermione shut it with the tip of her finger, but equally shocked at the way the two of you dressed.

“Ready, dove?” Remus let you take his arm, his smile softening as he looked you up and down. 

“Always.” You nod cheerfully and pull your wand out, not noticing the way the trio was looking at you like you had both grown multiple heads. 

And before you could apparate—special permission given by Dumbledore himself because he definitely favored the two of you over others—Harry snapped out of his astonished gaze and practically shouted at you like he was bleeding out to die. 

“YOU’RE MARRIED TO PROFESSOR LUPIN?”

You break away from admiring Remus and tut at Harry, patting his head once more. Ironically, Harry was starting to believe you loved to treat him like your own child because of how often you did that to him. He pushed your hand off his hair, scowling a little when you spoke to him with a mocking tone. 

“Oh, Harry… Of course, I am.”

Hermione’s mouth opened and closed several times before settling on something, “B-but how come—”

“If you ever asked what my last name was, we wouldn’t be here, now would we?” You tilt your head before smiling at them, watching the three of them look at one another incredulously. “I will see you three later. For now, behave and don’t go looking for trouble.”

And with that, you and Remus disapparted with three very surprised Gryffindors. 

“Well, Professor Lupin. I think we really deserve this now.” You laugh when you appear at the entrance of the restaurant, propping your chin on his shoulder. 

Remus pressed a kiss to your lips, “I couldn’t agree more.”

©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms

[lostrologyy]

What about typically soft Dom Remus where it’s just after the full moon and reader is washing him in the shower and he’s horny but too weak to even stand so reader gently rides him in the shower cause she’s so in love with him but doesn’t want him to hurt himself </33

riding an exhausted remus after a full moon*. ⋆

cw: smut (not so explicit tho). piv. riding. shower sex. mention of injuries and pain. comfort. lmk if i missed something!

a/n: smth short but fluffy to cure the writer's block that's killing me(⁠╯⁠︵⁠╰⁠,⁠)

the bathroom is thick with steam, the hiss of the shower filling every corner as you guide remus beneath the spray. he’s trembling with exhaustion, his weight slumped against you in a way he rarely allows. his eyes are heavy, lids half open. the bruises along his ribs bloom dark and angry under the water. you steady him with a hand on his chest.

“sit.” you murmur, nudging him onto the built-in bench against the tile.

he doesn’t argue, just lets himself fold down, head tipped back against the wall. his skin is flushed from more than the heat. the aftermath of the moon still dragging at his body, leaving him weak.

you kneel in front of him. the soap lathers easily in your hands, and you work it over his chest, over each scar and fresh scrape, as if washing him clean could erase what he’s been through. he watches you through half-closed eyes, lips parted to breathe.

“you don’t have to fuss.” he rasps. his voice is raw from growling all night.

“i want to,” you answer simply, rinsing the suds away. “let me.”

and he does.

he lets you tilt his chin so you can wash his face, lets you press tender kisses over the curve of his shoulder, lets you treat him with reverence.

he tries to hide the way his body reacts, the subtle shift of his hips, the tension in his thighs, but you feel it when your knee brushes him.

his eyes snap shut, his jaw tightening. “don’t—love, i can’t—”

you hush him with a hand against his cheek, soft as silk. “you’re not going to hurt me.”

he shakes his head faintly, frustration lacing through the fatigue. “i’m too tired to—”

“i know,” you whisper, leaning in so your lips graze his. “so let me take care of you.”

then you kiss him, a hand slowly stroking his cheek as water streams between you both.

when you straddle his lap, his breath stutters, hands instinctively gripping your hips as if to hold you still. his restraint is written in every line of his body—the way he trembles, the way he tries to keep from pulling you closer.

“shh,” you murmur, kissing his temple. “just relax. i’ll do everything.”

you take his already hard length, guiding him between your legs and inside you with aching care, easing down onto him in a slow, steady stretch. his head falls back against the tile, a low moan tearing from his throat as his hands tighten around your waist. he looks almost pained, overwhelmed, but you stroke his hair back and keep your movements gentle, soothing.

you rock against him slowly, deliberately, every roll of your hips meant to bring him pleasure without asking anything from him. his chest heaves, water trickling down his collarbones as he watches you—awe and disbelief softening the exhaustion in his face.

“you feel—” his voice breaks, and he swallows hard, eyes shining in the dim light. “god, you feel so good.”

you kiss him, long and tender, swallowing the words before they can tumble into apologies he doesn’t owe you. “just let go, rem. you deserve this.”

he clings to you then, trembling for a different reason as you keep riding him, slow but steady. until he finally gives in.

the sound he makes when he falls apart is wrecked and beautiful, muffled into your shoulder, and you hold him through it, stroking his hair, whispering love against his ear.

after, you don’t move away. you just stay in his lap, rinsing the soap from his skin with gentle hands, pressing feather-light kisses over his scars. his voice is hoarse when he finally speaks.

“i don’t deserve you.”

you hush him with another kiss, brushing your thumb over his cheek. “you deserve everything, remus. especially this.”

lostrologyy © 2025.

[remushrts]

✶ NIGHTTIME / poly!marauders

— pairing: poly!marauders x reader

— summary: you and your boyfriends have a very different definition of what a "fun night" means, implied introvert/shy!reader

As much as you love all of your boyfriends equally (fact that you had to remind them two times a week, at least), you would say that sometimes, just sometimes, you felt like you could easily pick one out.

It's not personal, nor a constant feeling. You love Sirius and James as much as the next person, and you wouldn't trade them for the world. You're not sure though, if right now if asked, you wouldn't trade them for a moment of stillness.

It's not their fault, not really. They couldn't possibly know you were already home, that Remus picked you up because you were feeling poorly and that you made him swear not to tell them. You swore that you'd tell them yourself. You still would, if they hadn't arrived all but stumbling and shouting nonsense at your shared flat.

You think at least they didn't arrive when you were feeling truly horrible, your stomach aching from nervousness and your head hurting so much it felt like it was hit by a brick. Then, you think, you might've trade them for another brick to put you out of your misery.

"Moony, darling!" Sirius' voice rings through your ears, and you groan softly from your bedroom, door left slightly ajar. "We're—" He's abruptly cut by what you think was a hiccup. "Home!"

You sigh softly, but before you can push your legs out and get away from your perfectly comfortable bed to tend to your drunk boyfriends, your perfectly lovely, sober, boyfriend stops you. You set the teacup down on your nightstand, but he merely smiles.

"I've got this." He says, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead. Without your phone — doctor's orders —, you are left to do your sudoku and crosswords. Remus is gentle enough to make an attempt to close the door, before James and Sirius beat him to it.

"Hi, my love..." James mumbles as he tries to climb into bed, pressing a loud and exaggeratedly wet kiss to your cheek. "We missed you."

"Hi, Jamie." You smile at the boy, combing your hair through his curls as he leans into your touch. He smells like his cologne and alcohol, plus some lingering note of smoke your nose barely picks at. You knew James wasn't a smoker, but he hanged around smokers a lot.

"Hi, mon chérie." Sirius says as he so gracefully barges in the room, his shadow hovering above you as he leans against the headboard of your bed. A couple of strands fall over his eyes, and he tries to blow them away.

"Fun night?" You raise your eyes to him, putting the pen down in between the pages.

"Funniest. Mary sends you a hug, by the way." He replies, and you chuckle at the nonsense answer. It's a close guess, at least. "How's yours, is Moony treating you alright?"

"It's fun, we've been reading but Rem put me in cellphone timeout." You fake complain, pointing to your phone on the opposite side table. Sirius makes an appalling noise in your behalf, and you smile.

"Oh my god, he's been torturing you!"

"I'm treating everyone very well, thank you very much, Pads." Remus walks back into the room a second after, with a large glass of water and a couple of aspirins. You don't know for which of you. "Open up."

He hands the cup to Sirius, popping a pill on the palm of his hand and doing the same to James' extended one, who's currently face planted into your duvet.

"You're a saint, Moony." James grumbles, squinting his eyes as he raises his head, an odd position you're sure it's bound to give him neck pain later. You tap his shoulder lightly and gestures him to turn the other way around, belly up.

"Uhm, you are." You agree.

"Don't encourage them, dove." He says, pouring more water from a bottle he mysteriously produces and handling it to James after Sirius swallows his aspirin down. "Jamie, love, you're not sleeping with us if you're filthy like this. Go take a shower. Same for you, Pads." He points out, his voice not more than a lovely suggestion, but Sirius groans nevertheless.

"I'm not filthy." You hear him protest as he straightens his back up again.

"You do smell like an ashtray, Siri." You say, seeing him pout.

"Okay, grandma, do your crosswords."

"I'm doing sudoku." You say, showing him the half done magazine in your hands, slightly crinkled now because of James, but you don't mind it.

Sirius dismisses your words with a wave of his hand. "Same thing. Come on, Prongs, they don't love us anymore! They've turned eighty in our absence and have to wear dentures now!"

You roll your eyes, feeling the bed shift under James' weight as he gets up and wraps himself into Sirius' side, walking begrudgingly to the ensuite bathroom.

As you watch the door close and hear the shower start, Remus returns to your side, pulling the covers back on his laps and picking his own booklet of crosswords.

"Oh, you are doing crosswords. He wasn't far off." You say, seeing him seek his sweatpants pockets for something. After a moment, he pulls out a secret third aspirin for you.

"Our teeth haven't fallen out yet."

"Don't jinx it." You shrug, taking it from his open palm and swallowing down with the rest of the water. "They looked like they had a fun night."

He makes a sweet noise of agreement, filling a row of squares out. "Not better than ours, they don't."

You rest your head on his shoulder, you have to agree. Not better than yours.

[eufezco]

MOONY'S BACK! 𓂃 𓈒 ❀

marauder!remus lupin x slytherin!reader

synopsis — remus returns from his first date with you, a slytherin girl, and has to face his friends’ teasing in the common room.

fluff

remus entered the gryffindor common room.

he felt his heart beating harder than usual and his nose and cheeks were flushed from the cold air, and perhaps something more. the fire crackled softly in the hearth. before going in, remus knew the common room won't be empty. his friends had been insufferably annoying all week about this day and remus had a feeling they’d been waiting for him to return.

and sure enough, they were there. sirius lounged across the armchair closest to the fire, his legs draped over one arm and his head resting against the other. james was seated on the couch, reading a copy of quidditch weekly, while lily was resting against his body, with her head on his chest. peter was lying on the floor talking to her.

—moony's back! —peter announced. not even a second after remus set a foot into the common room. the moment those words left peter’s mouth, james, lily and sirius jumped from their seats.

—oh he's cheeks are more red than his gryffindor scarf!

remus touched them with the back of his hand as he took off his coat and scarf and left them hanging on a chair. —it's because of the snow outside.

—yeah, sure it's not because of that slytherin girl.

—did she kissed you? —peter asked straight up.

remus cheeks grew even hotter but he didn't answer to the question.

—you gotta tell us everything, moony! come on!

lily dragged him next to the fireplace and forced him to sit on the rug.

—is it really necessary? —remus asked, dying of embarrassment as he glanced up at his friends, who were eagerly looking back at him. james and sirius went back to sit on the couch, lily and peter were sitting in front of him on the floor.

—of course, it is! —lily said, her tone leaving no room for argument.

—oh, come on, moony, we’re all dying here, we've been waiting all afternoon. we just want to know how the date of the century went.

remus rolled his eyes at sirius words.

james decided that it was his time to join sirius' teasing. —yeah, and with a slytherin girl, no less. did she try to hex you? or, i dunno, bite you?

—good question, prongs. did she call you a blood traitor between compliments?

lily let out a dramatic sigh, giving them a sharp look. —you two are absolutely insufferable, —she said and turned back to remus, her voice softening. —don’t listen to them. they’re just jealous you had an actual date.

—she didn’t hex me, bite me, or called me a blood traitor, alright? she was perfectly nice and we had a great time, —remus stated.

james and sirius huffed a laugh.

—a great time is suspiciously vague. care to elaborate?

remus played with his hands, the heat coming back to his cheeks when he started to remember everything.

—did she like the flowers, remus? —peter asked with excitement.

remus stood at the door of the castle, waiting for you. every time he looked at the bouquet in his hands, the wildflowers he carefully picked himself, he felt a little ridiculous. maybe it was too much for a first date. what if you thought it was silly? or worse, what if you didn’t like flowers at all? what if you were allergic to flowers? —flowers, moony? bold move. what’s next, planning the wedding? he shouldn't have told james and sirius. they spent the whole morning teasing him, and now their words were stuck on repeat in his mind. but peter told him it was a good idea, you were always so focused in herbology so you'd most likely loved them. in the middle of all the overthinking, remus heard the soft sound of footsteps on stone. he looked up, and there you were, walking down the stair with a shy but bright smile. your heart beat faster after seeing remus and you had to focus on the stairs, the last thing you wanted was to trip and make a fool of yourself in front of him. still, you only could think about how sweet he looked, nervously shifting his weight from one foot to the other. —hi —you said, your voice a little breathless but smiling. —hi —he replied. remus held out the bouquet. —these are for you. i thought you might like them. your eyes fell to the flowers. it was a careful mix of pinks, yellows and whites. the gesture made your chest ache in the best way because you know that he picked them himself for you. —they’re beautiful, —you said, your fingers brushing his as you took them. —thank you, remus. i love them.

—yes! i knew she'd love them —peter said, triumphant.

—tell us, moony, did you hold her hand?

—padfoot, the audacity! —james gasped dramatically. —you held her hand on the first date, moony? i don't know who you are anymore!

remus rolled his eyes while he rubbed his hands, brushing over his thick scars. he tried not to hold your hand, not because he didn’t want to, but because he knew you’d notice the scars. and though he knew you weren’t the kind of person to say anything unkind, the thought of you touching them, of you asking about them, made his stomach twist.

to avoid falling in the snow, you had hooked your arm in remus'. you were laughing, your boots crunching through the snow, the conversation had flowed easily as always happened between you two. you were so comfortable in his presence that you didn't even realize that your hand began to slide down his arm, fingers tracing along the thick fabric of his coat until they slipped into his, curling naturally around his hand. when you glanced up at him, his cheeks were red but his lips curved into a shy smile. remus didn’t pull away. if anything, his hand tightened around yours. the scars on his hands didn’t matter to you. you noticed them long ago, during one of those afternoons in the library when the two of you studied together. he was flipping through the pages of a book and you saw them. it wasn’t hard to tell that he was self-conscious about them, he always wore the longest sweaters, ones that hung just past his wrists and sometimes even covered all his hands. that’s why you never asked him about it, except when you noticed some fresh ones, you couldn't help but ask him if he was okay.

—she was the one who held your hand! —james repeated. —moony, i think this girls wants to marry you.

—we’ll start planning the wedding now. peter, you can handle the flowers, moony’s already set the tone with that bouquet.

and they all laughed, even lily, who usually rolled her eyes at sirius and james’s relentless teasing, and remus, who usually found himself the victim of their jokes, couldn’t help but crack a smile.

—but come on, keep telling us!

—well, we walked to hogsmeade and we first visited some bookstores. she loves reading, she was so excited, practically dragging me around the place to show me her favorite sections and i had no complaints, as you can imagine.

james and sirius exchanged a look in disbelief and for once, neither of them could think of something to say. they had never seen their friend remus like this.

it wasn’t that girls hadn’t shown interest in him before, they had. but remus had always been polite, reserved, never letting things go past a conversation about books or classwork. he’d keep his distance, waving them hi in the corridors, showing them shy smiles, remembering their names, listening when they spoke, even sharing his notes if they needed help.

but dating? that had always seemed beyond him. it was complicated, messy, and exposed.

—merlin’s beard, —sirius murmured not wanting to interrupt remus who kept talking about you. sirius glanced at james with wide eyes. —she’s breaking down his walls.

james nodded slowly, an incredulous grin spreading across his face. —and he’s letting her.

the moment you turned the corner, your eyes landed on the familiar wooden sign swinging gently in the breeze, your favorite bookstore. it was small, away from the main street of hogsmeade, often closed when you visited, as if it only opened for those who truly needed it. you gasped, catching your breath in surprise. —it’s open! and he didn’t resist, letting you drag him toward the door. remus could immediately see why you liked the store so much, it was cozy, small but inviting, and it smelled like coffee and wood. run by an elderly woman who greeted you both as you entered, she gave you a knowing nod, as though she’d seen your excitement countless times before. —it's good that you've finally brought your boyfriend here. a handsome gryffindor boy, no less, welcome dear. remus froze for a split second, his cheeks hot red. —oh, i... um... —he looked at you for help. you couldn’t help but laugh at his expression, though your own cheeks felt a little warm. —he’s not my... —you started, but the old woman waved you off with a twinkle in her eye. —no need to explain, dear, you don’t have to tell an old woman what’s plain to see —. she winked at you both before turning back to her counter. you nudged him playfully. —don’t worry, she says things like that to everyone. probably —remus gave you a skeptical look but couldn’t help smiling as he let you lead him deeper into the shop.

of course, he didn't tell his friends about this, he didn't even want to think about how much james and sirius would tease him.

remus continued talking about you. lily looked at him closely, wanting to know everything he could tell her about you. —she has good taste in books, she recommended me one about history of magic, she says it will make that class more interesting and help me pay more attention.

—that's so sweet of her. she noticed that you zone out during history of magic —. a sweet giggle escaped lily's lips.

remus rubbed the back of his neck. —yeah, i guess it’s not exactly a secret. —he shook his head, he didn't want to talk about history of magic right now, he wanted to keep talking about you. —then we went to the three broomstick.

—let me guess, she ordered something weird, like firewhisky, and you had to pretend to be cool with it?

remus rolled his eyes. —no, sirius. she ordered butterbeer, like a normal person.

—remus, you two seem to be very comfortable around each other —lily said, her tone innocent, but the mischievous twinkle in her eyes betrayed her. —there had to be a kiss.

sirius and james shared a look, they seemed genuinely surprised by lily’s boldness but they didn't say anything because they were more interested in remus' answer. the heat of his cheeks spread all the way up to his ears. james’s eyes widened as he caught remus’s expression. —so there was a kiss! —he exclaimed, pointing a finger at him like he’d just solved a mystery.

—do we really need to talk about this?

—yes! —all four of them said in unison.

you sat across from remus, the soft light from the lanterns of the three broomsticks lightened his face with a soft glow. it caught the silvery scars that lined his cheek, making them shimmer faintly, though he seemed oblivious to it. a single butterbeer sat between you, the two of you had been sharing it. you pointed at the corner of remus’s mouth. —oh, you have something, —you said, gesturing to the spot. —where? —he asked, looking confused as he swiped at his mouth. —no, it’s more to the... —you leaned over the table. —here, let me. you reached out and used your thumb to gently wipe away the trace of butterbeer at the corner of his lips. the moment leaned in closer, just a few inches apart now, his golden-brown eyes widened slightly, his breath catching as he looked at you. you closed the gap, your lips brushed his in a sweet kiss. remus froze for a moment but then he closed his eyes and melted into it. when you pulled back, his cheeks were pink, his expression soft as he said —you, um... you missed a spot. you laughed, your own cheeks warm as you sat back down. —i’ll get it next time.

the room went silent for a beat. peter sat there thinking, confusion spreading across his face. james was the one who broke the silence as he threw his head back, laughing. —that’s brilliant! the old ‘you’ve got something on your face’ trick.

peter was still confused. sirius shook his head. —she’s bold. i like her.

lily was smiling warmly. —i think it’s cute, —she said. —clearly, she’s not afraid to show how she feels.

peter’s eyes widened and he gasped as the realization hit him. —so she kissed you twice! —he exclaimed.

sirius groaned. it was working just fine, they were all surprised that remus had told them about another kiss and not the one they had seen from the common room, but they handled it just fine and knew how to hide it, all except peter. sirius threw one of the pillows at him. —you idiot!

remus frowned, it was true that you kissed him twice but how could peter possibly know that? —you spied on us?!

—spied is a strong word —. james said.

peter lifted his arms defensively, ducking as another pillow came flying his way. —no, not spy! we just… saw you two walking back to the castle. by accident! while we were… uh, checking the weather.

james smirked, leaning back in his seat. —exactly and that second kiss? didn’t think you were that much taller than her, moony, but there she was, standing on her tiptoes in the snow. pretty romantic, actually.

remus was mortified.

you walked arm in arm with remus back to the castle, his presence keeping you warm enough from the cold weather outside. the date went better than you ever could have imagined. remus was charming, thoughtful, and surprisingly funny. every moment with him felt genuine, like the two of you existed in a bubble where nothing else mattered. as you neared the castle, you found yourself thinking about how you didn't want the evening to end. you stopped face to face, you had to say goodbye but the words didn't come out of any of yours mouth. you didnt want it to end. remus stood there, his hands awkwardly tucked into the pockets of his coat, his gaze flickering between your face and the ground. —well... —you both said at the same time. —see you tomorrow in class. you nodded. —yeah, see you tomorrow —. your arms wrapped around him in a gentle hug. his arms slowly went around your waist, pulling you in just a little bit closer. when you pulled back from the hug, the space between you was closer, and you couldn’t help but notice how his eyes lingered on your lips. your heart beat faster in your chest, and before either of you could think too much about it, you stood on your tiptoes and closed the distance, pressing your lips to his one more time. remus took his hands out of his pockets to hold your face and yours pressed against his chest. when you finally pulled away, the smile on remus’s face told you everything you needed to know. —see you tomorrow, then? —you whispered softly, still a little dazed from the kiss. he nodded, his smile never fading. —yeah. tomorrow.

—and you should be grateful that i didn't let them use the invisibility cloak —. lily added.

remus groaned, dragging his hands down his face. —grateful? you’ve got to be joking.

lily's expression softened as she leaned forward. —but seriously, remus, it sounds like it was a nice date. it’s good to see you happy.

—yeah, it was great seeing that slytherin trying to suck your soul and you gladly letting her do it.

lily gave sirius a sharp look, but even she couldn't suppress a small smile at his teasing. remus, however, looked like he might die of embarrassment as he buried his face in his hands again.

—i'm so done with this conversation —. remus added as he stood up from the floor. he wanted to go to sleep as soon as possible so that tomorrow he would arrive earlier.

james just grinned. —you can’t stop now, moony. we’ve just started.

[colouredbyd]

Hiya :3!!! I really really love and admire your writing and I’ve been in such an angst addict mood for some reason😭. I was wondering if you could perhaps write somthing for Sirius Black or poly!marauders and (usually)bubbly!fem!reader where they get into a heavy argument and the reader kinda just shuts down/goes really quiet and doesn’t talk to anyone since she’s worried it’ll just bother sirius (and/or the rest of the boys)? It’s completely understandable if not though, I hope you have a wonderful day/night!!💜

No Going Back Now

poly!marauders x reader ✰ 4.5k

summary: as sirius is overwhelmed by the anniversary of a certain day, his anger finds its way directly to you. caught in the crossfire of pain that was never yours to carry, you’re left to navigate his cruel temper and the silence that follows.

warnings: angst, heated arguments, screaming, lashing out, crying, mental health struggles, past abuse, toxic behavior, emotional, verbal conflict, intense guilt, insecurity, remus and james are protective, fear of abandonment, sirius being a shit asshole but then grovels, realistic conflict, hints of bubbly!reader, fluffy happy ending.

authors note: the divider was actually suggested by @yasministration, she knows too well that i live for angst ;)

“Guess what!” you call out, already smiling, already alight with whatever news is glowing in your chest. “Guess what, guess what, guess what!”

The door swings open into familiar air — warm parchment, faded cologne, and the sweet tang of whatever James spilled last night. You step in without pause, satchel bumping your hip, shoes tapping lightly on the worn floor.

They are all here. James lies on his bed, his arms behind his head, his eyes fixed upward as though the ceiling might offer him an answer he has not yet found.

Remus stands near the window, his shoulders tight, arms folded across his chest. Sirius sits on the edge of his mattress, hunched forward, head resting heavily in his hands. 

The silence in the room isn’t normal. 

The joy within you is too fresh,and it pulses insistently through your body like a secret desperate to be shared.

“I finally did it,” you say, nearly breathless with excitement, your smile unfaltering. “That ridiculous elemental incantation Flitwick said we’d maybe manage by NEWTs if we were lucky? The one I’ve been practicing every single night, the one that nearly scorched my eyebrows off last week? That one. I got it!”

You don’t yet register the way James shifts only slightly, his eyes flicking sideways toward Sirius as though bracing for an aftershock. Nor do you catch how Remus exhales, not in amusement or pride, but in something resigned.

You step toward Sirius, drawn to him without thinking, your joy still undiminished.

“You remember, don’t you? You told me I was rushing the second syllable, that I needed to breathe through it more gently—”

“Could you fucking shut up?”

His voice cuts through the room with such clarity and force that it steals the breath from your lungs.

You freeze.

He does not look at you. His hands fall from his face, but he does not raise his eyes. They remain fixed on the floor as though his anger has rooted him there, refusing him even the small grace of meeting your gaze.

Then, all at once, he stands. The motion is sudden and graceless, and your outstretched hand — the one you had extended instinctively— is knocked aside, brushed away as though it meant nothing at all.

“For fuck’s sake, do you ever shut up?” he snaps, voice cracking with the weight behind it. “Every time you walk into a room, it’s like it has to be about you. You talk and talk like nothing’s wrong, like the rest of us don’t even exist!”

Remus is out of his chair in a heartbeat, the wooden legs screeching against the floor with such force that it sounds almost like a protest. 

He places himself between you and Sirius with no hesitation. His face is pale with anger, jaw tight, eyes ablaze with something you rarely see from him — not frustration, not even disappointment, but true, quaking fury, pulled taut by a restraint that is already beginning to snap.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Remus shouts, loud and shaking with rage. His hand slams hard into Sirius’ chest, shoving him back a step. “You don’t get to talk to her like that! You don’t get to talk to anyone like that! Not here, not while I’m fucking standing here—what the bloody hell is up with you?”

Sirius doesn’t flinch. If anything, he stands taller, jaw tight, hands curled at his sides. He starts pacing, back and forth in short, jerky lines like he needs to burn the anger off before it eats through him. 

“Oh, spare me the fucking lecture, Remus,” he spits, his voice cracked open at the edges. “Not tonight. You think you’re so bloody noble, don’t you? Always ready to play the saint, always ready to jump in and protect the one who needs saving. You never miss a chance to be the hero.”

“I’m not trying to be anything,” Remus shouts back, louder now, all restraint gone. “I’m standing here because you screamed in her face. And I’m not going to let you pretend that’s just something we let slide.”

“You think I planned that? You think I wanted to be like—”

“Sirius,” James says, quiet but firm from the corner.

Sirius falters for the briefest moment. His hands clench at his sides. His chest rises and falls too quickly, as though he is losing the rhythm of his own breath. But the moment passes, and he sets his jaw again, a wounded animal dressing itself in anger because it has nothing else left to wear.

“Right,” he says flatly. “Because you two are always right. Always calm and rational.” He turns his gaze to James for only a second before looking back at Remus. “Must be easy for the two of you, always thinking the same thoughts, always knowing where you stand. I wonder what that feels like.”

Remus takes a single step forward. “I’m not ganging up on you,Sirius,” he says, his voice low, firm. “I’m calling you out. There is a difference —one you used to understand.”

Sirius scoffs, sharp and cruel, like he wants it to cut. You flinch instinctively, even though it’s not aimed at you. He spins on his heel and storms off, the slam of the door rattling the frame behind him like the final punch of a fight.

You’re frozen in place. You hadn’t noticed how quiet it had gone until now, the only sound left is the soft buzz of tension still lingering in the air like static. Remus and James both turn slowly to face you.

And then they see you.

Your lips part slightly, as if you’re trying to draw breath through the tight knot choking your throat. Your eyes burn, vision already hazy, and then—like a thread finally snapping—you start to cry. It is the kind of sob that tears through you without warning, as if it had been gathering in your chest all day,waiting for this very moment to break free.

James reacts first. “Hey—hey, love—oh, sweetheart—” he says, crossing the room in three strides, already pulling you into his chest. His arms wrap around you instinctively, strong and steady.

You don’t even remember moving, but suddenly you’re curled into his chest, clutching his jumper with shaking hands and sobbing hard enough that your whole body trembles. Your voice is muffled against him, broken up by hiccups and sharp gasps between tears.

“I—I'm sorry,” you stammer, barely getting the words out. “I didn’t know—I didn’t know I was bothering him—I didn’t mean to.”

“Hey, hey—shh, no. No, none of that,” James murmurs into your hair, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, and then another. “You are not bothering anyone, love. You hear me? Sirius is being an arse today, yeah? He’s being a bloody prat. That’s on him. Not on you.”

You just keep shaking your head into his chest, as if you can argue with him by movement alone. Your voice is raw when you try again. “But I came in laughing—I didn’t know you were fighting—I was being loud, I was just—”

“Sweetheart, no. You weren’t doing anything wrong,” he says firmly, almost fiercely. “You came in happy. You didn’t know. You were being you, and that’s never a bad thing, alright?”

“I should’ve seen it—he didn’t even look at me, James, he just—he looked at me like I was—” Your voice breaks again. “Like I was a burden. Like he didn’t even want me there.”

James pulls you tighter, almost rocking you now. “He doesn’t think that, love. Not really. He’s just… he’s angry, and he’s hurting, and he’s taking it out on the wrong person. Which is not okay. But don’t you dare start thinking it’s because of you.”

“I know,” you whisper weakly. “I just… today’s hard for him. It’s the day he left Grimmauld Place, remember? It’s been a year. He always gets like this, and I should’ve been more careful—”

“No.” James tilts your chin up, gently but firmly. “No, we are not doing that. You don’t have to tiptoe around him just because it’s a hard day. It doesn’t give him the right to hurt you. He’s not a bloody storm you have to weather. He’s supposed to be your boyfriend, not some landmine.”

You try to wipe at your tears, but they’re falling faster than you can stop them. “He’s just—he’s never looked at me like that before.”

“I know,” James says softly, brushing a few strands of hair from your face. “And I’m going to have words with him about it. You didn’t deserve that.”

Behind him, Remus has sat down on the arm of the couch, his breathing still shallow, a hand pressed to his side where the worst of his post-moon aches usually settle. His gaze is tired, but gentle when it meets yours.

“He’ll come back when he’s cooled off,” Remus says, voice rough but steady. “And when he does, he’ll have some explaining to do. But James is right, love. This isn’t on you.”

You nod, barely, your fingers still clutching at James’s jumper like letting go might break you.

James pulls you back into his chest, pressing kiss after kiss into your hair. “C’mere. No more tears now, yeah? I can’t bear seeing you like this. He’s not worth your tears today.”

You sniff, managing a breath that doesn’t quite catch. “Sorry. I just—I didn’t mean to ruin everything.”

“You didn’t ruin anything,” James says firmly. “You’re the best part of this bloody day, alright? And I won’t hear another word otherwise.”

He leans back just enough to smile gently down at you, thumbing a tear off your cheek. “Now—tell me about that spell you were working on. You said you finally got it right, yeah? What’d you do?”

Despite the ache in your chest and the weight of Sirius’s silence, a faint, tear-wet laugh escapes you.

You don’t quite recall when the conversation shifted—from laughter at some ridiculous comment James made about Filch to the quiet companionship that settled between you both. 

You find yourself now, a few hours later, slouched beside him on the common room floor, wrapped in the soft stillness of the late hour. The fire has faded to glowing embers, casting a warm amber light across James’s glasses, which slip down his nose each time he tilts his head in amusement.

But even through the warmth of it, you could feel the weight pressing down beneath the laughter. James’s smile did not quite reach his eyes. There was a faint tremor in the way he exhaled, a hitch that never used to be there. 

His eyes kept flickering toward the staircase as if expecting a particular someone to come storming in, grinning and reeking of cigarette smoke. But the staircase remained stubbornly empty, and Sirius remained nowhere to be found.

Deep down, you knew James was trying. Trying to distract you, to fill the growing silence with noise and nonsense and jokes he did not believe in, because it was easier than admitting how much it hurt. 

And you, ever so foolish, let yourself believe it for a while. Let yourself be pulled under by the laughter like it could somehow drown out the ache blooming like rot in the hollow of your chest.

But Remus was not so easily deceived.

He had excused himself hours ago, saying something about needing rest, though you all knew it was more than that. He simply did not have the energy to pretend tonight. 

He curled up on one of the beds with his back to the room, his breathing shallow and uneven in that way that told you he was not quite asleep but trying hard to be.

The truth was plain between the three of you, though no one had dared voice it: Sirius had been awful today. A bitter edge to every word, sharp where he usually was quick, reckless in a way that no longer felt charming. 

Still, as the clock crept past eleven and into the deeper folds of night, your heart began its quiet unraveling. James had dozed off on the couch barely twenty minutes ago, one arm thrown over his head, mouth slightly parted. 

You turned to glance toward the boys’ dormitory bed where Remus lay in unsteady sleep. He had not stirred in four hours. For a moment, you wished you could lie down beside him and let unconsciousness take you too. But you knew yourself too well.

You were not going to sleep tonight.

So you pulled on your shoes, fingers fumbling clumsily with the laces. You wrapped a scarf around your neck—thick enough to hold back the midnight chill—and slipped out of the common room without a sound.

The halls of the castle were as silent as a graveyard, shadows stretching long across the stone floor like they, too, were searching for something they could not find. You moved quickly and quietly. You knew exactly where to go.

The Astronomy Tower.

There had only ever been one place Sirius went when he was like this. When the weight of the world pressed down too heavily on his shoulders. 

You climbed the last steps with your breath held in your throat, heart pounding.

And there he was. Sitting near the edge, back turned, limbs sprawled with a kind of exhausted elegance that only Sirius could pull off. He was staring into the dark, but not at anything in particular. His head was tilted slightly down, as if in conversation with someone you could not see.

You stepped forward softly, your footfalls just audible enough to betray your presence.

“Just go away, Remus.” His voice was low, nearly hoarse, as if strained from crying.

You smiled despite yourself, though it felt like trying to catch sunlight through a cloudy sky. You folded your arms gently across your chest, steadying your breath as an uneasy thought settled in: you were here alone with him. And for the first time, you weren’t quite sure how to feel about that.

You knew Sirius cared for you deeply. Still, there was something unfamiliar in the quiet between you—a chill of distance, a restless tension you hadn’t felt before. It wasn’t fear of him, but of walls he built around himself when things got too heavy.

That uncertainty was new to love. Yet it lingered quietly in your chest, impossible to ignore.

Your voice came out soft, almost uncertain. “I’m not Remus.”

He turned quickly, eyes widening in surprise that you were the one standing there. You watched as his expression shifted—confusion, then recognition, and finally something raw he tried to conceal.

He blinked as if unsure whether he was really seeing you. The moonlight painted silver into the hollows of his cheeks, the tired beneath his eyes, the bruised curve of his mouth.

You sit down next to him slowly, like you’re unsure if you’re allowed to. He doesn’t look at you right away, just stares out ahead, jaw clenched, hands limp between his knees. You part your lips to speak—

“Sirius—”

“I—”

You both pause, voices overlapping in the quiet like a tangled thread. There’s a beat of stillness before the corner of his mouth twitches. You let out a breathy laugh, and so does he. It’s soft, but real.

Then, finally, he turns to look at you, properly. His grey eyes are tired in a way that makes your chest ache. “I’m sorry.”

You nod. “I know.”

“No, no—don’t do that,” he says quickly, the words catching on something raw. “Don’t do that thing where you—where you say ‘I know’ like it’s nothing.”

“What thing?”

“That. That thing where you just—nod and understand like I didn’t fuck up, like I didn’t snap at you when all you were doing was—being good and sweet and you.” He blows out a shaky breath, fingers carding through his hair in a frustrated, frantic motion. 

“And I—God, I was a complete arsehole. Not just to you, but also to James and Remus. And you just…” His voice trails off, and he shakes his head with an incredulous scoff. “You act like it’s fine. Like it's nothing. Matter of fact, this is breakup-worthy and you’re still here, and it’s—”

“I’m not breaking up with you, Sirius,” you cut in gently, your voice soft but sure, as certain as the way your fingers curl into the fabric of your coat to keep them from trembling.

His head snaps up at that, eyes wide, almost hurt by your forgiveness. “I know!” he blurts, almost like it’s an accusation. 

His voice falters on the edge of cracking. “That’s the worst part! You should be mad. You should be screaming at me, throwing shit, telling me I’m a bastard and that you deserve better because you do—you do.”

His hands tremble slightly in his lap as he goes on, a little breathless now. “And instead you’re here, looking for me, when I should be the one crawling on my fucking hands and knees trying to fix this.”

You don’t speak immediately. You just let the heat of his self-loathing rise and settle. The quiet between you stretches only as long as it needs to, and then you sigh—softly, almost like it escapes you by accident.

“I am mad,” you say finally, lifting your gaze to meet his. “Just… not in the way you want me to be.”

He shakes his head before you’ve even finished. “No, not mad enough. You’re not—God, you’re not even reacting. You’re just so fucking calm and—kind—and I don’t deserve that from you. I keep being… awful. And you keep loving me like I’m not. It doesn’t make sense!”

You shift a little closer without really thinking about it. Your knees bump his, and he doesn’t flinch. Just watches you warily, like he still doesn’t understand why you’re here.

“You think I’m not reacting?”

He’s startled into silence, eyes caught on yours.

You exhale, but your breath shakes this time. You can feel the lump in your throat rising like floodwater, but you press forward anyway.

“You don’t know what it’s like, Sirius. Walking in and feeling everything in the room shift. The silence hit me like a slap. I knew something had happened. I could feel it.” Your voice thickens slightly. 

“And my first thought was—what did I do? Was I too loud? Did I say something wrong? Was I too happy today when you weren’t? Did I annoy you without realizing it?”

He opens his mouth, eyes softening with horror, but no words come out.

You keep going, voice lower now, but steady. “I tried to ignore it. Told myself to just be normal. That maybe if I was just… me, it’d go away. That maybe you’d come around if I stayed out of your way. And then you snapped. And for a second, I thought you—” you pause, because it still stings, “—I thought you hated me.”

His entire expression folds like paper. You see it all over him—the guilt, the shame, the way regret buries itself deep.

“But then,” you add, and your tone shifts, gentler, “I remembered what today is.”

He closes his eyes tightly like hearing that physically hurts him.

“I remembered what it means for you. What it always has. And I knew it wasn’t just about me. That it couldn’t be. The way you were cold, distant… it wasn’t about something I’d done. It was about something you were feeling. Something bigger than either of us. And yeah, it hurt. It still does. But I chose not to throw it back at you, I chose not to escalate it.”

You breathe slowly, not even sure if you’re trying to convince him anymore or just saying what’s been sitting on your chest since this afternoon.

“It’s not that I didn’t feel it. I just… didn’t want to make things worse.”

He stares at you like he’s trying to memorize your face, as if committing you to memory will somehow absolve him.

“And it’s not just you and me,” you say, your voice softer now, edged with a quiet kind of certainty. “It’s you, me, Remus, and James. I’m part of this. But I’m not the only part. I know that when you go back, Remus and James are going to give you an earful. Probably more than that. I mean—Remus might even greet you with his infamous disappointed silence.”

Your lips quirk. “And James is going to throw an absolute fit. I’m honestly surprised he didn’t already drag you by your hair back to the dorm.”

Despite himself, Sirius lets out a hoarse laugh. His eyes are still glassy.

“I just thought,” you say, shrugging, “maybe I don’t need to pile on. Maybe what you needed from me wasn’t anger.”

His laugh slips into something more fragile. He wipes at his eyes quickly, like pretending he’s fine will keep the weight of it all from caving in.

“You make it really hard to hate myself when you’re like this.”

You lean your shoulder against his. “Good.”

He looks at you like you hung the stars. His voice breaks a little as he speaks.

“I don’t deserve you.”

You roll your eyes, but your heart aches. “That’s not up to you.”

He shakes his head. “You’re going to make me cry, and I hate crying.”

You laugh, and it’s soft and real. “Sirius, I’m not not mad. I’m just… mad in a way that still loves you. Mad in a way that says, ‘Don’t do that again.’ In a way that wants you to talk to me before it gets that bad. And I just really want you to feel safe enough to say, ‘I’m hurting,’ instead of pushing everyone away. You get that?”

His fingers find yours slowly, weaving them together. He holds on like he’s afraid you’ll disappear.

“I get it,” he whispers.

You reach out and gently squeeze his hand, your touch steady and grounding. “I know some days carry heavy meanings, many days, in fact. I know those days bring back memories that hurt—memories you don’t want to face. But I think, instead of making those days harder on yourself, you could let us in. Let us be there for you.”

He nods once, quickly, like if he speaks he’ll lose it again. “I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

After a moment, he speaks again, his voice so low it’s barely a whisper.

“Do you think they hate me?”

“Remus and James?” you ask quietly. “I think they’re probably worried sick and probably mad. But hate you? Never.”

He stares down at your hands like they’re the only thing tethering him to the ground.

“They’ll come around. We all do. You’re not quite easy to hate, Sirius Black.”

He snorts quietly, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “Thanks.”

“But you’re worth it.”

His eyes flutter closed, and he leans into you, head resting lightly on your shoulder, like he’s finally letting himself exhale.

“Stay with me a little longer?”

You don’t even have to think about it. “Always.”

He exhales slowly, as though the air inside him has been waiting for this moment to be let go.

The silence has softened now, no longer brittle with hurt, only heavy with the aftertaste of it. 

“I’m sorry,” he says again, voice quieter than before, almost reverent. “I know I already said it. But I am. I shouldn’t have raised my voice. I shouldn’t have looked at you like that. It wasn’t about you. It never is. You just… walked in at the wrong time, and I lost control.”

You gently cut him off, your voice soft but firm. “Sirius, it’s okay. You already apologized.”

He shakes his head, voice stubborn but honest. “No. I need you to hear it. I need you to know I mean it.”

You nod gently, your fingers brushing his wrist in a silent reminder that you’re still here.

“I need to do better,” he continues, looking down at the floor. “I don’t want to be the kind of man who takes his anger out on the people he loves. I’ve seen what that turns into. I won’t become that. I promise you.”

His eyes meet yours, unwavering. 

“I need you to promise me something too, though,” he says, the ghost of a smile playing on his lips. “Next time I do something like that—anything close to it—I want you to slap the shit out of me. And I mean it. Don’t forgive me until I’m grovelling. Make me work for it. Make it hurt.”

A surprised laugh escapes your mouth before you can stop it. He smiles at the sound, a genuine one this time, laced with relief.

“Hopefully,” you murmur, nudging his shoulder, “there won’t be a next time.”

He lifts your joined hands and presses his lips to your knuckles. “Hopefully.”

By the time the conversation has exhausted itself into something tender and quiet, the room is dipped in deep night. It’s already two in the morning. Sirius rises first and holds out his hand.

“Come on,” he says softly, “let’s get you back.”

You take his hand and let him pull you upright. His lips find yours for a moment, the kiss gentle and unhurried, like a secret kept between just the two of you.

As you pull away, a wide, helpless yawn escapes you. He laughs softly, warm and low, and draws you gently into his arms.

“Yeah,” he murmurs against your hair. “Me too, baby. I’m sleepy too.”

You rest your head against his shoulder as the two of you walk slowly down the corridor, your body leaning into his like gravity has made its choice. Your steps falter more than once, your eyes fluttering closed between blinks. 

By the time you reach the door to the dormitory, you are half-asleep, barely upright.

But the moment the door swings open, the haze is shattered.

James is pacing by the desk, arms crossed, jaw set. He looks up sharply at the sound, his expression a storm just barely contained. Across the room, Remus is already seated on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, his eyes locked on Sirius with a gaze so serious it slices through the room like a blade.

He doesn’t yell. He doesn’t even raise his voice. He just says, in a voice far too calm to be anything but furious—

“Sit down, Sirius. We need to talk.”

The sleep drains from your body like a bucket of cold water. Sirius stiffens beside you. You feel him swallow, his hand tightening slightly around yours.

Then he lets out a long, weary sigh, muttering quietly under his breath, “Well. I’m in for it.”

[moonstruckme]

hola! may i request a fic within the marauders fandom- any ship is fine

where the reader was always blamed for when she/they got sick as a child because it costed to go the the doctors? i just really enjoy your sic fic and hurt comfort 🌷

Thank you for requesting angel!

cw: financial concerns around healthcare

a/n: Please do not misconstrue my participation in the marauders fandom as support of JKR. If you’re new here and want to participate in the fandom, I encourage you to do so without participating in anything that would provide financial gain to her or her transphobic agendas

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 498 words

You rouse in phases, achy and cold and feeling noticeably worse than you were when you tumbled into sleep. Your head pulses with pain even with your eyes still shut. 

Remus must have already been awake and waiting for you. He pulls you closer to his front, kissing the back of your head. 

“Morning,” he mumbles. 

You stretch out, an instinct to relieve the ache in your legs that does little now. “Morning.” 

Remus tsks quietly at the scratch of your voice. His fingers splay over your middle. “I think your fever’s gotten worse.” 

“Yeah,” you sigh. 

“You can tell, hm?” 

Rather than answering, you turn over, hiding your face in his chest and drawing the covers more tightly around you both. A harsh shiver runs through you, and you fight against the urge to cry for exhaustion. How can you have just woken up and already be so tired again?

“Yeah, alright.” Remus’ voice is a calm murmur, concern lingering beneath. He rubs the slope of your shoulder. “It sounds like it’s time to see a doctor, sweetheart.” 

Guilt twists your insides. “That’s okay.” 

“It’s been three days. They might be able to give you something.” 

“I’ll be fine,” you say, your voice smalling. 

“I want you to go, lovely.” Remus kisses your hair, his tone gentle. “Please.” 

You swallow; it aches. Heat presses at the backs of your eyes. “Okay,” you relent. “I’m sorry.” 

He shushes you, chin resting atop your head. “What for? You’re doing this because I’m asking you to, and even if I wasn’t there’s nothing wrong with looking after yourself. I’m not upset.” 

“I’m just sorry that you have to take me and everything.” 

Your next inhale is wet. Remus mumbles something that gets lost in your hair as he puts his lips down again. His palm migrates to your back to make slow, warm circles between your shoulder blades. 

“Shh. Sweetheart, can you look at me?” 

You leave your boyfriend’s chest reluctantly, contrition upsetting your already upset stomach as he cups your face in his hand. Remus has a pillowcrease on his cheek. He looks at you with a fretful tenderness, pity without any of the underlying condescension. You watch his mouth pull down in a frown as his other hand joins the first, both thumbs brushing wet from your cheeks. 

“You haven’t done anything to feel sorry about,” he tells you. “You can’t help being sick, sweet girl. It’s alright to ask for help to feel better.” 

Your chin wobbles as more tears streak hot down your face. Not for guilt anymore. You don’t know what they’re for. 

Remus’ brows bend. “You’re feeling really poorly, aren’t you?” 

You haven’t really admitted it. Too wary of making yourself a burden, physically or emotionally or financially worst of all. But now, with Remus’ thumbs stroking consolingly over your cheeks, you nod. 

He looks nearly relieved. “I know,” he murmurs, “I know. We’ll make it better, love. We’ll take good care of you.”