Remus X Slytherin!Reader?

Remus x Slytherin!Reader?

“You’re short enough to have to go onto your tippy toes to kiss me.” “I’m short enough to elbow you directly in the gut, with ease.”

kinda in love with this dynamic🤠thank you for requesting!🖤

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“Need help with that, love?”

“I’ll give you a chance to keep your mouth shut, Lupin.”

“Now, sweetheart, that’s no way to talk when someone is offering you help.” 

You scared people. There was no way of beating around the bush or sugar-coating the simple fact that you terrified people. It wasn’t that you went out of your way to seem so tempestuous or feisty, it was simply the way you were and you didn’t hide it. 

Add in the fact the tie colour you wore was green and silver, and the fact you made your opinions very clear when you disagreed with somebody, you weren’t the most approachable person at Hogwarts. 

So, you could imagine the shock of the students and professors alike when they found Remus Lupin—one of the beloved marauders and charming souls in the school—seated beside you at breakfast one morning, arm thrown over your shoulder as you let him feed you pieces of fruit as you read. 

You were an unusual couple to most people but they didn’t understand, and you didn’t care if they ever understood. Remus could handle you. He could handle your mood swings and your sarcasm and your cold persona. He could read you like an open book, and he liked to joke that was how he got you. 

But he also knew how to wind you up, and as a marauder at heart, he would take the chance whenever he got it. 

He knew you had been working on a project in one of the empty potions classrooms down in the dungeons and had decided to bring you some food (knowing that you had probably forgotten). However, much to his great amusement, he found you kneeling on a desk to try to reach the top shelf of ingredients to grab one of the jars. 

“Just let me help you—”

“Bite me,” you snapped at him, glaring at him over your shoulder when you noticed he started walking closer to you. 

“I seem to remember that you like that,” he purred, a hint of smirk on his lips as your glare darkened. 

“Cocky bastard,” you grumbled before you turned back to the job in front of you, your fingertips brushing the edge of the jar that was stuffed at the back of the shelf by someone who you deeply hated.

“Your cocky bastard,” he corrected.

“Still a—” you paused when you felt a warm hand on your waist, and watched another hand enter your vision as he easily reached for the jar and grabbed ahold of it before placing it down beside your cauldron. You turned to him, eyes narrowed. “I said I didn’t need help.” 

“You were going to hurt yourself up there, love,” he said in a knowing tone that you hated and loved all at once. 

“You don’t always have to show off how freakishly tall you are,” you grumbled as you climbed down from the desk.

“Or maybe you’re just short, darling,” he said with an innocent smile.

“I’m not short, I am perfectly average,” you retorted, arms crossed over your chest as Remus moved closer to you, towering over you like the smug bastard he was. 

“You’re short enough to have to go on your tiptoes to kiss me,” he teased, his arms winding around your waist to lock you against him.

“Then I’m also short enough to elbow you in the gut with ease,” you countered as you slid away from his grasp, lips twitching at the huff of frustration he let out. “Short enough to keep away from you too.”

“Not that you’d want to,” he said as he slid his arms around your waist, his body pressed against your back as he began to nuzzle his face into the crook of your neck. “Take a break.”

“I have work to do,” you stated simply as he began to kiss along your neck. “And I don’t need some jolly giant bothering me.”

“Jolly giant,” he repeated with a chuckle. “Creative, darling, I like that one.”

You bit back your smile. “Thought you would, Lupin.”

.

get me a remus :(

Sunshine!reader, who gets told that she talks too much and remus tells the person to stfu and tell her to continue her small fact.

this is so real and so very remus!!!

you and remus are at a party that's been pretty shitty so far. sirius had decided to throw a spring party, but he grossly overestimated the probability of the english weather actually being good.

now, everyone was in his living room snacking on cucumber sandwiches, bowls of strawberries and cream and the biscuits he'd set out, while the rain beats down on his roof.

you on the other hand, were snuggled up to remus, legs over his thighs as his fingers fiddle with your frill trimmed socks.

"rem," you start softly, head resting on his chest as you remember something you'd wanted to tell him weeks ago.

he turns to you, a chocolate digestive in hand. "you wan'a bite?" you take a nibble and then say,

"wanna tell you about something."

he nods, sandy hair falling in his eyes before he pushes them back.

"did you know that in 2006 NASA got their first clear picture of pluto?" you'd been sitting on the fact for far too long.

"really?" remus watches your eyes brighten at his surprise.

"mhm," you hum, twisting to face him a little better before continuing, "that's when they noticed it had a heart on it too! a scientist, tombagh regio discovered it and that's the heart's name now."

before you can carry on, someone cuts you off with a sharp, "shut up."

remus watches you deflate into him and bends just far enough for his palm to make contact with the back of the man's head. "mind your business, she wasn't talking to you, was she?"

he turns back to you and offers you the last of his digestive, "carry on dove, what else do you know about pluto's heart?"

"well," you start shyly, but remus' genuine intrigue fights the bashfulness away fast and you spend the rest of the evening educating him and james who's now leant over about everything you know about pluto.

r is literally me with throne of glass and harry potter :,)

Protective remus is the best remus imagine getting separated from him at a party I feel like dealer!remus would especially freak out. Turns our she's outside talking james ear off. When James see remus he like "oh great you talk to her about the barbie cinematic universe"

you snuck off while he was talking to sirius, too bored in listening to your boyfriend and his friend ramble about something you had no interest in.

“jamie!” you yell as he comes out to the garden, a plate stacked full of cinnamon buns and cookies on you lap.

“hey, sunshine.” he takes a seat and plucks a cookie from your plate. “rem talking off sirius’ ear?”

when you nod james laughs. you both end up talking for hours, when remus comes barreling out of the house.

his eyes are wide with fear, but no other part of his body language gives that away.

“oh rem,” james calls remus over from the door. “come chat with her, i need the loo.”

remus takes james’ space on the bench and pulls you to his side.

“you’ve been here the whole time?” he asks softly and you nod, munching on the last of your cinnamon bun.

“yeah, me and jamie were just talking about the connections in the barbie universe.”

remus chuckles, kissing your temple and murmurs, “‘course you were.”

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. 

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

LITTLE WOMEN

“ i say it all the time, i just say it very very quietly. i tell you when you’re in another room, or right after we hang up the phone. i say it after you shut the door behind you. i say it in my head every time you look at me. i love you. of course i love you. i never stopped. “

with remus? both so oblivious with how much you both love each other. you're both definitely too shy.

mhm yeahhhh!!!! I loved writing this omg

summary: you and remus say your first ‘I love you’s

fem!reader 0.6k words

You’re smiling so big it hurts. It’s hard not to, with Remus around. He’s sweet and he’s firm and he’s grounding. He’s lovely. You’re totally in love and you can’t hold it in a second longer.

You bury your face in his shoulder and mumbled three words into his shirt. Three words you say in your head all the time but never say aloud. “I love you.”

Remus goes rigid. His hands stop where they’re rubbing up and down your arms and go tight around your elbows. “What?”

Your cheeks go hot suddenly. You push your face into his neck and grumble into it. Remus laughs.

“Dove,” he says, chiding. He encourages you away from him none too softly, pushing you back with his hands around your elbows. He manages to get some space between you and then uses one hand to lift your chin up, forcing you to look at him. “What did you say, pretty girl?”

Your face feels hotter than ever. You blink and then stare at his collar. “I said I love you,” you say quietly. “Is that, um. Is that okay?”

He’s too quiet. You lift your eyes to his to find him looking at you like you invented the sun.

“Are you kidding?” He says, and he’s grinning like mad, almost laughing, his cheeks all appled and pink. “Of course it’s okay.” He pushes his hand upwards to cup your cheek in his palm, fingers curling behind your ear. He gets this look on his big brown eyes and you think you fall in love all over again. More like tumble in love. Fall flat on your face in love.

“I love you, too,” Remus says. “Of course I love you too. I’ve just been waiting for the right time to say it, you know?”

You nod. You know. You’ve been waiting, too.

Remus smiles and it’s like a strike to your heart. He takes your face in both hands, pushes his fingers into the hair behind your ears.

“I want you to know I say it all the time,” he says seriously. Quietly. Like it’s only meant for you.

You blink. He does? “You do?”

Remus drags his thumbs over the hollows under your eyes, lets them rest at the corners, just shy of your eyelashes.

“I do,” he says, nodding, and it’s a confession, a pouring of his hearts contents to you. “I just say it very, very quietly. I tell you when you’re in another room, or right after we hang up the phone. I say it after you shut the door behind you. I say it in my head every time you look at me.”

He laughs then, and lets his forehead tip forwards so it presses to yours, like he can’t contain how he feels for you, like he needs to be as close as possible. You feel very much the same.

“I love you,” he says into the small space between your mouths. His words drift through your from his parted lips to yours, they creep into your chest and lodge themselves in your heart. Stuck. Forever. “Of course I love you. I never stopped.”

His hair crushes against your forehead, tickles your skin. His hands hold you so firm it’s like he’s branding you. Your heart thrums like a guitar string plucked.

“Remus,” you say, and your lips are buzzing, begging to be kissed, to pour out all your love for him like sugar. You huff, giddy to be loved by him so much. “How on earth am I supposed to top that?”

Remus laughs, loud and clear, throws his head back and roars with pleased laughter. His hands squeeze at your cheeks. You find yourself catching his case of the giggles so easily it’s like clockwork.

“I’m serious!” You hiccup. You push at his chest because he won’t stop laughing and you’re starting to think he won’t ever stop. “You’re awful, Remus.”

“Awful?” Remus gawps, and he pinches your cheeks like he’s actually offended. “I think you mean awfully romantic.”

You burst into laughter all over again, smiling like a maniac. And even when Remus kisses you, you won’t stop smiling. You honestly don’t think you ever will.

-