Thinking Of A Fic In Which Wolfstar Pines For Reader And The Fact That She Wont Be Able To Choose Between

thinking of a fic in which wolfstar pines for reader and the fact that she won’t be able to choose between the both of them

he’s so adorable

breathin

(remus lupin x fem!reader)

summary: remus lupin is a sleepyhead

contents: small blurb, fluff, fluff, sleepy remus is just so :(

　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

somedays, things just take way to much energy. looked up; then the whole room's spinning.

that's what remus lupin is going through right now.

he was not able to sleep with james and sirius' loud voices last night. they were playing around until late at night.

remus wouldn't want to be the killjoy. he lets them have their fun just for tonight.

with that being said, the lack of sleep he had was torturing him.

he can feel his blood running and the sky's falling.

he almost fell in asleep in transfiguration this morning, earning a disappointed stare from professor mcgonagal.

he couldn't take it anymore; his lids were super heavy. even if he tried to open them, he still wouldn't be aware of his surroundings because his mind is slowly shutting off.

he wanted a comfortable place to sleep. someplace that he feels the best. then it came to his mind; your bed.

he once heard the spell sirius used to charm the stairs' to the girl's dormitory. though he never tried it, he's going to now.

he arrived in your bed and completely buried himself in your sheets. it smelled like you- which brings more comfort to him. he's one hundred percent sure that this will be the best sleep he's going to have in weeks.

you didn't see him after your third class, you wondered where he is. you had asked james about his whereabouts but james said he didn't know.

so after your last class, you head to your dorm to change to a more comfortable clothes and in hopes of finding your boyfriend in the way.

you creaked open the door to your dorm and made a bee line towards your part of the room.

you almost lost your breath when you heard shuffling from inside. you were sure nobody's in there.

"hello?" you croaked, eyebrows knitting.

"mhhm," was the only response. your heart slowed down its pace when you heard the voice. you know who it belongs to.

you saw remus sleeping on your bed. one of your pillows under his head and the other he hugged. you almost melt at the sight. you knew from this morning that the poor boy didn't get enough sleep last night. you were glad he found his way up here.

"hi angel," remus mumbled, fluttering his eyes open. his hair was messy and his face was so adorable.

"hi rem, sorry i woke you up. go back to bed," you kissed his forehead.

remus tugged your hand, "stay with me?" he said- almost like a mumble.

"let me change to a more comfy clothes okay?"

"kay.."

you went back to him after changing and he instantly rest his head over your chest. sighing in contentment. "love you."

you chuckled softly, rubbing the back of his neck because you found that he loves it. "love you too. sweet dreams," you said it so softly, almost afraid if you got any tune louder, remus wouldn't be able to go and find his way back up into the clouds.

I have twenty cousins and I think we would’ve been an entire GANG if not all of them (minus that one) are more than a decade older than me 😭

thirteen from my mother’s side and seven from my father’s <3

i ask because growing up i always thought i had a normal amount of cousins but now everyone always tells me i have a lot so i wanna see whats average

also i included that last option because its probably what fits best for me personally but for reference i think the amount of cousins i have is somewhere in the early 20s

Pretend | The Darkling

A/N: i made the darkling vulnerable in this fic. i also tried my hand at writing flashback scenes like Leigh Bardugo, and idk, i think it turned out okay. could definitely use work, but there's always room for improvement.

warnings: mentions of wounds, flesh, and blood.

*my taglist is in my bio and linked in my masterlist as well*

MASTERLIST

You quietly knocked on the door, listening for the soft rasp of Aleksander’s “Come in.” When you heard it, you tentatively stepped in and closed the door behind you. He was sitting on the edge of his bed, his kefta and shirt draped on the foot of his bed. His torso and arms were covered in bandages, and a sickly sweet smell hung in the room--you’d have to talk with the Alkemi later about tweaking the scent of the salve they concocted for Aleksander.

A bowl of water and a jar of the salve sat on the bedside table, accompanied by rolls of bandages and an assortment of cloths. You immediately set to work soaking the cloths in water as Aleksander began unraveling the patchwork of bandages on him.

Neither of you said anything while you worked; you didn’t need to. You had already established a routine on that fateful day, as soon as Genya and Ivan had found Aleksander on the steps of the palace and hauled him the rest of the way in and to his room.

You could never forget his screams of agony the night he was brought back.

You could never forget his screams echoing in the halls before all went silent.

You remembered rushing to his room. Genya and Ivan stood by his bedside, and you realized that Ivan had probably had to lull Aleksander into unconsciousness before he woke anyone else. Neither the Tailor nor the Heartrender needed to ask you to help; there were herbs and juices already on the bedside table--no doubt brought by Genya--and you had set to soaking cloths and quickly mixing up a temporary salve without another word.

The blankets were pulled back and you could see poorly wrapped bandages crisscrossing Aleksander’s torso and arms. You inwardly cringed at the shoddy work, but gestured for the removal of the bandages.

“Ivan, make sure no one else comes looking this way.” Genya had muttered, and set to work removing the bandages while Ivan nodded once and stepped out of the room soundlessly.

You almost cried when you finally saw the extent of the wounds. Raw and red angry flesh with black veins streaking everywhere and the insides of his wounds had screamed at you, but you took a deep breath and wiped away any salves and other fluid before beginning your healing work.

Your hands moved slowly, mending the broken skin and flesh as best as you could, but even you had to admit: you were nowhere near the best Healer nor did you think that any supernatural wound caused by supernatural creatures could ever be healed--if at all. You weren’t even sure why you had been called; there were plenty of other better trained Healers in the palace.

But you worked anyway, and soon, the red flesh had looked less angry than it did when you came into the room and Aleksnader, though unconscious, looked a little less pained. The wounds still were painful, though, if Aleksander’s heart beating at a rhythm faster than normal and slowly rising temperature was any indication. When you had finished working and bandaging the rest of his wounds with Genya’s help, you smiled tiredly at her and told her to get some rest.

“I’ll keep an eye on him. Make sure he doesn’t wake up again.”

Genya patted your arm, then took your hands in hers and squeezed them reassuringly. “Come wake me to watch him later. You need to rest, too.”

When Aleksander woke that morning, he saw you curled up in one of the armchairs across the room with an open book in your lap and smiled softly. He could almost feel as if the pain wasn’t real if he thought about how the tiny smile you sported as you slept looked adorable. But he quickly schooled his features into a blank expression as the door opened and you jolted awake, book falling to the floor with a dull “thud” as you stood up quickly. You had winced at the sound, then picked up the book and tried straightening your hair and smoothing the wrinkles out of your kefta before Ivan escorted you back to your room.

When you had come back to his room that night, Aleksander suddenly asked you why you were helping him as you began peeling off his old bandages and tossing them in a bucket by his bedside table. You could hear his unspoken question, though: Why do you even care?

“You’re in pain, sir-”

“Aleksander is enough. I think we’re well past formalities now.”

It might’ve been a trick of the light, or even your imagination, but you thought you had seen the faintest of smirks on his face and heard the slightest of teases in his voice.

You snorted, shaking your head. “Of course. Like I said, si--sorry, Aleksander. You’re in pain.”

He gave the barest of head shakes. “It hardly hurts.”

Hiding a small smile, you had him stand as you moved to wipe off excess salve and dried blood on his back.

“The physical pain might not hurt you, but…” You sighed and stepped back to his front and looked up at him.

“You hurt here-” You tapped his chest, right over where his heart was. “-and here.” You tapped his head, right on his temple. For a moment, you rested your hands where they were, one on his heart and the other cradling the side of his face. You could feel the beating of his heart, the impulses of his brain, the tightening of his jaw...then you took your hands away and put them around your bandages.

Aleksander would never admit it to anyone, but he found he had missed feeling your hand cradling his face and heart.

You had waited for him to say something else, but he stayed silent.

“Who hurt you, Aleksander?” It took everything in you to keep your voice steady and to keep it from cracking.

Again, he didn’t reply, and you shook your head and finished your task in silence.

Since that night, you watched him from the shadows, just always out of sight. You made sure he was still able to work and walk around, but you could see him hide his grimaces of pain or excuse himself and disappear towards one of his rooms. You never brought it up when you saw him at night or in the morning, but you knew it had to stop soon. He’d never heal, and it hurt you to see him hide his pain.

“What?” Aleksander suddenly said, jolting you out of your thoughts.

You blinked, then realized you had been staring at him with a frown. He was studying your face with a slightly curious--but mostly unreadable--expression.

“Nothing, just...thinking.”

“...About?”

“My first couple times healing you. And after you...just after.”

“That jarring, hmm?” There was amusement laced in his voice.

You snorted, then sighed. “No, rather...saddening.”

He paused, the barest of frowns tugging at the corners of his lips. You had clearly surprised him.

“Scars don’t jar me, Aleksander. They haven’t for a long time. They stopped being frightening long before I began mending you, anyway.”

He hummed in thought, then turned around so you could reach his back. The scars were looking much better than they had that one night, no longer red nor angry--but they still held the inky black veins that writhed and slithered ever-so-slightly as the light danced on it as if alive.

You finished spreading the salve on his scars, then carefully wrapped the bandages around his torso and arms again, like you had so many times now. As you helped him lie down, you couldn’t help but say, “I don’t know how you do it.”

A beat passed before you registered what you had said.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”

“How do I do what?”

You took another moment to respond.

“Pretend you’re okay.”

Aleksander frowned. “I’m not pretending.”

You took a deep breath, feeling a lump grow in your throat. Now is not the time to start crying.

“Yes, you are. Every single day.” You ducked your head, turning away from him. “And it breaks my heart.”

You opened your mouth to say something else, but then decided against it and moved to make your way out of his room. He had heard you enough; it was time to leave and pretend you had never said anything.

“No, we’re not done.” Aleksander sat up and climbed out of bed as fast as he could with the bandages and wounds. You could see him trying to hide his grimace from the sudden movements he had made. No doubt the cloth rubbed against his cuts and gashes the wrong way every time he moved. He grabbed your arm before you could leave, holding it in a firm grasp that was loose enough for you to pull away from if you wanted.

“I’m not pretending,” he repeated.

You shook your head. “You might be able to fool others, Aleksander, but you can’t fool me. You think I can’t see it? You think I can’t see that you’re hurting?”

“My body is riddled with still-healing scars; of course I hurt-”

You dropped the bucket of used bandages and wrestled your arm out of his grasp.

“Do you remember-” you snapped, then closed your eyes and took a deep breath. Now is not the time to get angry, either. “Do you remember...what I told you, my first morning mending you?”

“That I was hurting here-” He took your left hand and placed it on his temple, your hand cradling it exactly like that morning. “-and...here.” His other hand took your right hand and held it over his heart.

“Yes, and do you know why I told you that?”

He shook his head.

“I told you that because you were reluctant to let anyone help you, save for Ivan or Genya…” you sniffled, then cradled his face, being careful of his scars. You looked him in the eye and were surprised to find tears welling up. “I saw you, all these days. I saw you wince and grimace and hide your scowls as best as you could...and when the pain was too much to bear, you disappeared to your rooms.”

Aleksander ducked his head, no doubt sheepish that someone--no, not just someone: you--had seen him.

“All I’m trying to say is, it’s okay to show pain. It’s okay to be vulnerable. It’s okay.” you murmured.

“I know.” he nodded, his voice barely audible.

“It’ll take some time, but please, you’re hurting yourself more, and it kills me every day.”

“I know.” His voice cracked slightly, shaky with every breath he took.

“Let me in, Aleksander. Let me help you.” You sniffled again, quickly wiping away at the stray tears that fell. “Please. I don’t want to see you hurting any more than you have to.”

“I-”

He cut himself off and pulled you close, burying his face in the crook of your neck. He shook as sobs wracked his body and he slowly sank to his knees. You crouched with him, settling him down against his bed, then pulled the blanket off his bed as you sat next to him. Wrapping the blanket around your and Aleksander’s shoulders, you felt him slouch down more so his head was level with yours, then lean his head on your shoulder. You rested your head on his, smiling at his pickiness.

“It hurts, Y/N, it hurts so much. I want it to stop.”

“Shhh...I know, love, I know.”

“I want it to...want to...want it to go away.”

“And it will, in time.”

You held his hand firmly, like you were anchoring him. He wasn’t living in his pain; he was here, in the Grand Palace, with you.

“Come on, let’s get you in bed.”

Aleksander moved slowly as he climbed into his bed. You pulled his blankets over him, then brushed a stray hair from his forehead.

“Sleep now, love, for tomorrow we can start anew.”

You stepped away from his bedside, but felt a weak hand try to grasp your hand. You looked down to see him trying to reach for you, his eyes still wet with tears as they asked a silent question.

Will you stay?

Smiling softly, you grabbed a book off of one of the many bookshelves against the wall and climbed onto the empty space next to him, opening up the book and beginning to read. Aleksander’s hand found yours and gripped it tight, then pulled it close to him, resting it by his heart.

“Can you read to me?” his shaky voice broke the silence.

“Of course.” you replied, and began to read about the tales of two heroes, one cunning and the other loyal, traveling from town to town and getting into all sorts of trouble. As the night wore on, you found yourself struggling to keep your eyelids from drooping more and more.

You finished the chapter quickly, then closed the book and set it down next to you. Aleksander had long since fallen asleep, his hand still clutching yours close to his heart. You leaned down and pressed a kiss to his temple, then leaned against the headboard and closed your eyes.

“Sleep well, dear one.” you whispered. “I will be here when you wake.”

~

Taglist: @odetostep @pansysgirlfriend

would you ever consider writing poly!marauders? or even more of the luna reader with platonic (or romantic) marauders?

if u have more poly!m requests please send them (to clarify this is romantic) fem!reader tw cut

"You should be more careful," Remus says, "really, dove." 

You lean back against the kitchen counter and try not to wince as he finishes with the dressing on your arm. 

"I am careful," you say. 

He laughs softly. It's a rare sound, kind that has you smiling immediately. You wrap your arms around his neck, careful not to press down on your injury, and kiss his neck quickly. 

"Thanks for fixing me, handsome," you say. 

Remus pats your back. "That's never something you have to thank me for… You might like me less when the boys come home." 

You pull away. "You texted them?" you ask, already resigned to your fate. 

He looks gorgeous even when you're mad at him, pale skinned but dark in his way, dark eyes and dark brows and his amazingly handsome nose that makes you wanna lean over and kiss him. 

"Afraid so." Remus squeezes a path up your arm to your shoulder. "You know the lashing they'd give me if I didn't." 

"Well," you murmur, "I suppose you did patch me up." 

He kissed your forehead as the sound of the front door opening echoes down the hall. "That's the spirit." 

"Angel?" 

You relax. It's James, which means you aren't in for a loving telling off, just a loving. You stay by Remus' side until James is in view, a shock of green rugby uniform stark against brown skin. He sheds his bag and you practically throw yourself into his open arms, 'cause usually that's exactly what he wants. 

"Wait wait wait!" he says, holding out his hand, his wrist brace scratchy against your arm. "Don't hurt yourself worse! What happened?" 

You fight him, trying to hug him and laughing when he holds you back like you're nothing. He's strong. "James, come on. I cut it on the garden fence." 

He makes a sound like he feels super sorry for you and finally lets you hug him, your face in his solid chest, your hands at the small of his back. You settle in for as long as you want, James and you both suckers for a good hug, and sigh as his cheek kisses the top of your head. 

"You okay, Moons? You look tired." James voice rumbles through your hear, low and warm. 

"Fine. She just shocked me, running in the house with blood dripping down to her elbow." 

"Give us a hug." 

"I'll make tea." 

James turns his lips to your forehead, "How come he'll hug me when we're alone, and he'll hug you all day long when you're together, but he's totally allergic to affection when we're together?" 

"He's shy," you mumble, "ask him again in an hour and he'll say yes." 

The door opens a second time and you'd hide your face pretty much in James' armpit, laughing through the horror. "Hide me." 

"No, I don't think so." 

James works your face away from his chest, hands held over the soft slopes of your shoulders. He looks you in the eye, all melty brown and sweetness. "Sure you're okay?" he asks. 

You hum. He kisses your cheek. 

"Okay, I'm gonna go harass Remus for a hug then, before he boils the kettle and threatens me with a scalding. Love you." 

"I don't love you, you're leaving me for the wolves." 

"I'm hardly a wolf," comes Sirius' amused drawl. 

James raises his eyebrows at you in a silent gesture for Good luck, angel, and disappears around the corner to the kitchen. 

You sigh and spin on your heel, finding your arch nemesis (concerned boyfriend) propped against the wall. He's in casual work attire, which for Sirius is a smart pair of trousers and a dark button down with the sleeves rolled up. His tan seems to have waned in the winter, leaving him pale. Though he often claims in a joking manner that it's a consequence of loving you, he's always so worried it steals the colour from his skin. 

I like to worry, he'd assured you once. 

"You might not believe me, but you look very handsome today," you say. 

He raises a dark brow. "You say that every day." 

"Emphasis on 'very,'" you say. 

He pulls his weight off of the wall and holds out his hand as he approaches. You let him take your arm, let him assess the small dressing bandage Remus has applied over your cut. 

"It was deep," you admit, "but not very long." 

"Mm, Remus said," Sirius says, near murmuring as his thumb works into your wrist. He rubs over unbroken skin gently. "Does it hurt?" 

You shake your head vehemently. 

"Swear?" 

"Why would I lie?" you ask. You smile at him. "You really do look handsome. And you didn't need to come home from work." 

"It's my lunch break." 

"Oh, good! Let me make you something, while everybody's home." 

"Or I can make you something," he suggests. 

You enter into a stare off. He faces you with little expression, a blank slate. A pretty blank slate. His lashes don't so much as flicker, while you struggle to keep a straight face under so much seriousness. Your lips twitch with a laugh and something about it must break him, because he takes your face into his two hands and presses your noses together. 

"You make it very hard to be sensible about things," he says, and gives you a chaste kiss. 

His lips are a warmth you savour, and he steals them back much too swiftly for your liking. 

"Remus is the sensible one," you deny. "You're the overprotective one. And James is… James." You sigh, lovelorn. "And I'm the stupid one who cuts herself on chicken wire. You really didn't have to come home." 

"I wanted to." 

He leads you by the hand into the kitchen, where James and Remus stand in front of an unboiled kettle, Remus face smushed into James broad shoulder, a muscled arm locking him into place. He looks quite happy. 

"Sorry, I'm still making tea," he says into James' sleeve.

"No, I'm gonna make dinner," you say, yanking Sirius to the lovefest. 

You worm under James' other arm and Sirius strokes at the hair curling over Remus' forehead, mumbling, "Oh, god, she's killed you." 

"Worse ways to go," Remus says. 

hekdjwjdiwjdjejd

Full moon Remus being possesive! I just think that if anyone dare to look at you he would just hold you tight and be like “mine 😠”

It’s so basic but I love it!

FULL MOON REMUS IS BECOMING MY FAVOURITE REMUS RN I CANT LIE🫡thank you for requesting!🖤

.

It should have been a nice day out to Hogsmeade with your friends with very little chance of anything going wrong. 

So, of course something had to go wrong. 

It was a warm day, exams were far enough to not cause you enough stress just yet and Sirius had convinced the group that Saturday would be the perfect opportunity for a day out to Hogsmeade before they got sucked into studying and stress. And truthfully, you all needed the break. 

You ate breakfast together, meeting just after ten before you headed out to the nearby town. You went from shop to shop, laughing and joking and enjoying the little sun the Scottish weather seemed to bestow on you. It was truly the perfect day. 

The problem didn’t arise until the sun was beginning to set and you had made your way towards the Three Broomsticks to enjoy a drink or two before you headed back to the castle. Remus had been needier and touchier than usual, but it was nothing you weren’t used to. You knew it was just him being a little on edge with the full moon approaching in the next few days, and truthfully you didn’t mind the extra affection. 

So, it wasn’t odd when he threw an arm over your shoulder when you were talking to Dorcas. And it wasn’t odd when he placed a line of soft kisses along your jaw to gain your attention. But then he was practically pulling you onto his lap and it was enough for you to turn around, a look of concern on your face at the rage in your boyfriend’s eyes. 

You followed his gaze and found him glaring at a classmate you recognised from your herbology class. The boy seemed to look over just at that moment and flashed you a smile, giving you a friendly wave and you returned the gesture. 

That was the last straw for Remus. 

The rest was a blur of fists flying, blood spilling and James, Sirius and Frank having to tear Remus away from the boy before you could even reach him. You had barely said a word other than ‘follow me’ as you grabbed his hand and dragged him out of the pub, only giving the wizard a glare when he tried to wrap his arms around you. 

And now you were sitting in one of the bathrooms, cleaning up the cuts on his face with as much skill as you could without having to take him to Madam Pomfrey.

“Don’t give me those damn puppy dog eyes,” you grumbled to him, your eyes focusing on the cut by his eyebrows instead of the soft expression your boyfriend was giving you. 

“M’sorry,” he murmured, his hands wrapping around your thighs and tugging you to stand between his legs. You couldn’t bring yourself to bat his hands away. 

“Are you actually sorry or are you just saying that because you know I’m angry at you?” you asked in a blunt voice. 

“Both?”

“You are something else, Lupin.” 

He let out a soft groan at the use of his last name, his forehead pressed against your stomach as his arms wound themselves around your legs. “I am sorry, baby, he just…he kept staring at you,” he grumbled, a flicker of anger in his chest as he noted the way the boy had been staring at you all night. “It pissed me off.”

“So you just had to swing at him?” you retorted.

He lifted his head, his chin pressed against your stomach as his darkened gaze met yours. “He needed to know who you belonged to, sweetheart.”

You raised your brows. “So now I belong to you?”

“Yes,” Remus stated simply, his hands running up and down your thighs until they moved up to squeeze your ass. “And I belong to you.” 

“Stop saying stuff that makes me swoon, Lupin,” you grumbled as you raised a hand to push the hair away from his face, watching with some amusement as the boy growled in delight at the feeling. “I’m trying to stay mad at you.”

“Let me make it up to you,” he murmured, his nose nudging against the hem of your t-shirt as it started to rise. “Let me make you scream my name.”

“You’re such a cocky bastard.”

“And you love what this cocky bastard can do with his—”

“Remus!”

“Don’t worry, baby, there will be plenty of time to scream my name.”

.