Remus Lupin Drabble - Tumblr Posts

gasp for air | r.l.

tw: blood, major character death

remus lupin x reader

summary: you’re on an order mission with remus and sirius when you get hurt and things go terribly wrong

You gasp as the curse hits you, stumbling backward as you immediately press your hands to your stomach. It feels as though you’ve been stabbed. The world spins before your eyes, the rows of shops in Hogsmeade snapping in and out of your hazy vision. Your back hits the wall and you look down to see your hands already painted red.

A loud string of curses can be heard from your far right as Sirius worriedly steals a quick glance at you and sees how your knees buckle, how you fall to the ground. You watch him continue to dodge hex after hex, throwing his own spells at the two masked Death Eaters growing closer towards him. You blink, and your surroundings look even blurrier. “Remus!” you hear him scream, his voice cracking with panic. “Remus! Check on Y/N! I’ll hold them off.” You try to tell him that it’s okay; you’re fine, but you don’t seem to have the energy to say a word.

From way in front of you, Remus turns around, and you see all the color drain from his face. You attempt to smile but it comes out as more of a grimace as you press your hands tighter to your bleeding stomach. He abandons his duel and runs toward you at once, his knees making a sickening sliding sound as he drops to the ground in his rush to get to your side. Everything looked like little black dots, like stars right now. Was that supposed to happen?

“Y/N, dove,” he breathes, inching closer to you and wrapping an arm around your waist, gently pulling you nearer to him. You shudder at the pain that simple movement causes to the gash in your stomach. Remus is staring at you now, worry etched all over his face, his breathing fast and ragged. You frown. You really wanted to smoothen the crease between his eyebrows and trace the scars on his face to calm him, like you always did. So you lift your hand to do just that, but your exertion only lets you raise your trembling arm halfway before it drops back onto the ground.

He makes a wrangled sort of noise in his throat, bringing his hand to cup your cheek and keep your face upright. “Hey,” he warbles, rubbing his thumb over your cheek. “Hey, you’re gonna be okay. I got you, alright?”

When your boyfriend said you were gonna be okay, he was usually right. When you know, you know, they say. And right now was the moment you knew. You knew he was wrong. His glossy brown eyes meet your half-lidded ones, and you shake your head. “I don’t think so,” you murmur.

“No,” he says louder, his voice trembling with panic and desperation and oh- pain, so much pain that you wished you could squeeze him into a hug. But you can’t. The wound in your abdomen throbs harder and faster, the pain taking over your senses as you fight to keep your eyes open. “No. Don’t you dare say that. You are not dying today, okay? You are not dying on me,” his voice goes quiet and breaks at the last sentence. Tears start to dribble down his cheeks as he lovingly cradles you in his arms.

You glance up at his tear-streaked face, and you feel your own eyes start to water. An ache gnaws at you and you have no clue whether it’s from the gash on your stomach or your heart breaking into a million pieces. “Remus-“ “No!” he cries again, starting to sob. “No. Just- just stay quiet. Save your energy.”

“Remus,” you say again with all the strength you can muster. The weakness in your voice seems to make him want to listen, and he hiccups with tears but doesn’t interrupt you. “Listen to me. You’re gonna be fine, okay? You’re gonna be fine without me.” He shakes his head vigorously, his body now starting to wrack with sobs. He’s unable to say anything anymore, and so are you. Your eyelids start to feel heavier and your abdomen throbs with pain.

“Love,” you mumble more urgently now, your breathing starting to slow. “I need you to keep…. keep fighting. Can you do that? For me?” Remus looks at you with so much love and anger that the one person whom he loved most was being taken away from him. For a second, you feared he would disagree. But he looks you in the eye and nods slightly, grasping you tighter as though the strength of his hold on you would save you from death. You muster a grateful smile for him, and he softens, crying quietly as he wipes the tears off your cheeks.

Remus bends down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead, and you can feel his lips quiver. “I love you,” he chokes out, his expression pained but full of affection. You feel his soft breath on your forehead as he utters the words. You open your mouth; meaning to say it back. But all that comes out is a gasp for air as the world turns pitch black.

I am BEGGING on my knees for a part two to "Meant to be" 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️

your wish is my command, sweetheart!! here is part 2. thank you guys so much for all the love on part 1 ♡

meant to be | poly!wolfstar (part 2)

part 1 | part 2

tw: angst, hurt/comfort

poly!wolfstar x reader

The chillness radiating off the wall behind you does nothing to ease your pain as you slump to the ground outside the common room.

You press your fingertips to your lips, nibbling on your nails anxiously as you feel the hot tears dribble down your cheeks.

It was over. Your relationship with Sirius and Remus was over, and it was all your fault. You had ruined it.

It had felt like the right decision two minutes ago when you were admitting your troubles in the common room. It had felt like something you had to do for the past few weeks, whenever you saw the boys together without you, whenever you felt like an extra in their relationship.

So why did it feel like there was a gaping hole in your heart? Why did it feel like your insides had just been clawed out and crushed to pieces? 

This was your doing, your choice, you told yourself. No point mourning for a relationship that was already dead. 

Maybe Sirius and Remus were bubbling with laughter and cuddling in the common room right now. You really hoped that they were glad to be rid of you, because it was worth feeling this hurt if it meant they were happy.

As your thoughts of culpability begin to consume you, your vision starts to blur with tears. You lean your head against the wall, eyes closing as a soft sob escapes your lips. 

It was dawning upon you that you really had lost the boys you loved, and there was nothing you could do about it.

You freeze, your train of thought evaporating into thin air when you suddenly feel a hand on your cheek, thumbing the tears away.

You could recognise his touch anywhere, hands calloused from animalistic tendencies but gentle as a lamb when he traced hearts on your skin.

Eyes fluttering open, you come face to face with Remus, his beautiful face scrunched up in a sullen frown. Your vision flickers over to Sirius, standing behind him.

Sirius looks unsteady on his feet, swaying slightly from side to side with bloodshot eyes and tear tracks on his cheeks. Your heart feels heavy in your chest, and you know you probably look just as bad as he does. He was gazing at you with an unfamiliar desperation in his eyes, which truly, really mortified you. And to think you thought he would be pleased with the breakup - god, you were horrible.

“Dove,” Remus breathes out in a quiet rasp, drawing your attention back to him. You will your heart to stay intact as you look into his hazel eyes, but you feel it breaking anyway. Not a single word comes out your mouth knowing full well that you would break down into a sobbing mess if you spoke. You avert your gaze and opt to stare at the ground instead.

“Hey, look at me, please,” he whispers, rubbing your cheek again with those stupidly lovely hands and looking at you with those disgustingly pretty eyes and all the love in the world that you wished that you could die. You quietly raise your head to look at Remus again, and he offers you a small, forced smile to compensate you for your effort. “There’s my girl,” he murmurs.

His hand suddenly retracts from your face, and you hate to admit it but you miss his warmth immediately. His eyes widen slightly, and it’s like he remembered that you’re not his girl anymore. You’re not his. 

There’s a beat of sad silence as all of you sit with the fact that things weren’t the same as they used to be, maybe they never would be.

“Y/n,” Sirius croaks out, breaking the silence as you whip your head up to look at his grief-stricken face. It’s not so much the brokenness of his voice as the fact that he isn’t trying to hide it which hurts your heart. “Can we… can we please just talk this out? Please?”

He takes a small wobbly step toward you, extending his hand. You feel the sirens in your head start to sound loudly. Should you give him your hand? Should you give him your heart again?

You despise the feeling of longing which immediately strikes you. The desire to feel Sirius’ fingers intertwined with yours again, the wish to hold him in your arms, the need to wipe those tears from his lovely face. You wished things to be as they once were, his arms around your waist and lips on your forehead. Remus’ head on your lap as you combed your fingers through his hair, eyes fleetingly meeting before smiles full of love were passed around. It wasn’t just a relationship, it was a home. It was achingly sacred.

That home was broken, tarnished. Maybe it had been broken since the day you fell in love with them. Maybe it had been torn apart when they carried their relationship along without you. Or maybe you had ruined it when you told them you wanted no part in this affair anymore.

But if there was one thing you knew, it was that things that were broken could be fixed. You knew this fact like the back of your hand, from the countless times Remus had uttered those exact words to you when you were dissolving into a mess of tears and panic. You knew the words from when Sirius murmured them softly in your ear, stroking your hair as you sobbed yourself half to death. When you were trapped under the debris of problems that was your life, broken and scarred, they had pulled you out. They had fixed you.

Undeniably, Sirius and Remus had made their fair share of mistakes, unintentionally shunning you from the best parts of their relationship. They had torn your heart apart, but they fixed it up every single time they kissed you or smiled at you like you were the most precious thing in the world. Those fleeting moments had made all the hurt seem like nothing.

So who were you to deny the boys your affection? Even when they made mistakes, it was okay; because they loved you, and that was enough. You knew they might stumble and they may mess things up, but they would always get back up and take your hand. The sheer force of their love would be enough to overcome their shortcomings, you were sure of it.

So when Sirius stretches out his palm towards you, you wrap your hand around his. Remus watches on quietly, wide eyes darting between the both of you. 

Sirius’ face lights up immediately, a hint of relief in his eyes. It looks like all the tension has left his features as he gives you a small grin. Your lips curve upwards in a soft smile.

“Yeah, I think… I think we can talk about it. I’m sorry for just walking out on you guys like that.”

“No, angel,” Remus retorts immediately, standing up and wrapping an arm around your waist to haul you up as well. “It’s not your fault at all. We… we screwed up, big time. We were blind to your feelings, and we’re really fucking sorry for that,” he sighs, running a hand through his hair defeatedly. 

“But we’re gonna do better. We’re gonna make it work,” Sirius pipes up uncharacteristically firmly, his hand squeezing yours reassuringly. Remus nods, lifting his gaze to look at you as well. “Yeah, for you. We’re gonna try harder just for you.” Seeing the determination and love on their faces involuntarily melts your heart and brings a smile to your face, a real one this time.

The hint of happiness on your face is a big enough victory for them, Sirius’ smile morphing into a usual full-blown grin, and Remus’ arm tightening around your waist as he pulls you into his side. He moves towards the common room, Sirius’ hand still tightly gripping yours.

“We’re gonna talk about it, but not after some much-deserved cuddles and hot chocolate,” Remus murmurs, a small grin gracing his face when he sees the smile on your lips. The three of you walk in that awfully awkward position, you pressed against Remus with your hand tightly gripping Sirius’.

But you wouldn’t have it any other way. Just like this relationship, which had its ups and downs. That was especially the case for a three-way affair, something foreign to all of you. You were bound to slip up and you were bound to make mistakes.

But you loved them, and they loved you. That was all that mattered.

remus lupin masterlist — ☽◯☾

❤︎ — fluff | ☁︎ — angst | ✿ — san’s favs

gasp for air — you're on an order mission with remus and sirius when things go terribly wrong ❤︎ ☁︎

chocolate-coated hearts — you go to a new cafe to order donuts for your friend, immediately enamoured with the barista ❤︎ ✿

part 2 , part 3 ❤︎

everything you need — your relationship is new, and you’re worried about physical touch ☁︎ ❤︎ ✿

better — remus takes care of you when you can’t sleep after surgery ☁︎ ❤︎

okay — remus comforts you when you’re burning yourself out ❤︎

still here — it’s your birthday, and you didn’t think you would make it this far ☁︎ ❤︎ ✿

heaven — blurb about remus’ love and devotion towards you ❤︎ ✿

chocolate-coated hearts | r.l.

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

barista!remus x shy!reader

summary: you go to a new cafe to order donuts for your friend, immediately enamoured with the barista

tw: nothing? reader takes literature as a major, also kind of has social anxiety

a/n: might make this a series! i’ve got a few ideas <3

An anxious sigh escapes you as you stand idly outside the cafe, peering inside through the mosaicked windows. It was jam-packed, people pushing past each other and snake-like queues forming throughout the space. You wriggle your phone out of your coat pocket and glance at the message that your friend, Madison, had sent in a half hour ago.

hey gorgeous!! mind picking up a few donuts for me at Beanie’s before you come over? a few of the pbj ones, and some chocolate ones too. thanks xx

She was expecting, and you went by whenever you could to help her out after her asshole of a boyfriend left.

Normally, you wouldn’t bother. You hated crowded places, and Beanie’s was the definition of crowded – an old-style cafe which had blown up overnight because of its scrumptious donuts and vintage aesthetic. But who were you to deny the cravings of the woman bearing your goddaughter?

You take a deep breath and push the creaky wooden door open, cringing at how the bell rang and signalled the whole cafe to your presence. But no one so much as looked up, busy trying to buy or sell food, or find a table.

You push your way through the sea of people, joining the queue in front of the counter. It was long, you noted, and would probably take another fifteen minutes or so until it was your turn to place an order. You fish out your crumpled book from your bag and turn it to the page you had stopped on yesterday. It was the second classic of the term – Pride and Prejudice. Taking literature as a major meant you spent more time reading than anything else, but you weren’t complaining.

As you read, you scribbled down plot points to take note of and quotes which meant something worth writing about. Your eyes stayed glued to the page, trying to work out hidden meanings and flowery language. Once you were back home, you’d have to compile all your analysis onto that worksheet Professor Ragnarsson had given out, write the 10-page long review, and then –

“Hey! Shut the damn book and order, will you?”

Your heart jumps in your chest at the sudden harsh tone. You close your book and whip your head around to see a middle-aged man glaring at you before peering down at his watch. “There’s a long queue, and we don’t have all day.”

The heat rushes to your cheeks as you open your mouth to apologise – but before you can say anything, you hear an oddly soothing voice from behind you. “Hey, don’t be a jerk. She didn’t know the counter was open.”

You glance back towards the counter, and you swear your heart stopped beating for a second. Angelic was an understatement to describe the man standing in front of you, tall and lanky and absolutely fucking beautiful.

His chestnut brown hair perfectly framed his pale face, eyebrows furrowed in annoyance as he glanced at the rude customer behind you. There were pinkish scars tracing from above his eyebrows to right below his lips, but they looked golden under the orange light – he looked like some kind of heavenly being.

When his eyes dart back to you, his expression instantly softened, lips tilting upwards in a smile. You thought you would melt into a puddle right there and then just by gazing into his warm, honeyed eyes. “Hi, gorgeous. What can I get you?”

You blink, your mouth involuntarily falling open slightly. Gorgeous? Was he talking to you? Maybe he was referring to the man behind you.

His smile widens, and that does absolutely nothing to calm the feeling of your heart bouncing around in your stomach. “It’s okay if you can’t choose just yet, I know the number of options can be…” he chuckles, “overwhelming. Take all the time you need to decide.”

Oh my god, you thought. His laugh sounded musical, like the tender feeling of being enveloped in a warm embrace. You’d put it on a record player and play it on loop for hours if you could.

“Hurry the fuck up –”

“One more word from you and you won’t be getting your coffee today, buddy,” the godly-looking barista snapped in a slightly louder tone at the man behind you, face contorted in irritation.

You hear silent cursing behind you, a twinge of embarrassment turning you red. You quickly glance back up. “Sorry, hi, hello. I’ll um… I…” the words were on the tip of your tongue, but seemed to dissolve when he glanced at you with those agonisingly pretty eyes and kind smile.

Snap out of it, you internally curse as you open your mouth again. “I’ll get three peanut butter-jelly donuts, and four chocolate donuts.”

“Okay. Which chocolate ones?” he asks, tapping his tongs against the display dome with stacks of donuts. There really were a lot of options – chocolate sprinkles, belgian chocolate, chocolate glazed, double chocolate – your mind seemed to freeze up for a second. Which one would Madison want?

You quickly look behind you, seeing the man’s face twisted up in what looked like rage. It seemed to be taking him all his willpower not to lash out at you, and the customers behind him didn’t look much far off.

You turn back to the counter, eyes wide with panic as you feel the blood rush to your head. You had never been good at this; thinking and choosing on the spot. That’s why Subway was always a no-go for you, that’s why Madison had specifically told you what to get her – just that she hadn’t been specific enough. “I… I’m not sure. I think, um…”

“Hey, take it easy,” you look back up to see Remus giving you a reassuring smile, a slight hint of concern on his face. Your despair must have been embarrassingly evident, then. “It’s alright if you can’t choose. Do you want me to pick for you?”

You ought to have been humiliated, the way you immediately nodded and gave in to his offer. But he just gave you an easy smile and nodded, picking up one of each type and placing them in the box.

“Thank you,” you mumble sheepishly as you move to the payment counter, fishing in your bag for a wad of notes.

“Of course,” he grins, and it was so bright you thought it could probably light up the whole cafe. “That’ll be $15.90.”

As he waits for you to pay, he takes a quick look down and begins to brush crumbs off his apron. You look up at the wrong moment, eyes immediately fixing on the curves of his biceps visible through his T-shirt, and his slender fingers.

He glances back up at you, catching a glimpse of your flustered look and instantly smirking. You look away abashedly, counting the money and handing it to him.

The brush of your fingers against his calloused palm sent a jolting shock through you as you quickly pull back, not missing the way his smile widened as he cashed the money into the register.

“Thanks for visiting, sweetheart. Hope to see you again soon.”

You don’t reply, afraid you’d crumble into a blushing, gooey mess. Flashing him a brief, nervous smile, you pick up the box of donuts before turning around and heading straight for the exit. Sweetheart.

You huff as you open the door and step outside, pulling out your phone to complain to Madison all about the stupidly handsome barista at her favourite cafe. God, he really knew what he was doing.

could I request an x reader with fem! X Fred Weasley (if you don’t want to write for him I’m more then fine with whoever else you choose x)

anyway reader is insecure in the relationship (mostly just anxious about physical touch because she’s worried he won’t like it? Idk how to describe but just basically early stages of a relationship)

thanks lovely xx I adore ur work

hi gorgeous! so i decided to do this with remus, i hope it’s okay. thank you for the request! :)

everything you need | r.l.

tw: hurt/comfort, fluff

remus lupin x reader

You couldn’t stop the ache from blooming in your chest even if you tried. There’s a strong feeling of absence as you stare helplessly at Remus, pressed against the other side of the couch with his eyes glued to the television.

It’s always been a desire, to be touched. To be held is to be loved, your mother used to say. You craved the simple feeling of having your hair brushed off your face, the fat of your hip being pinched teasingly, or being held in tight hugs which squeeze all the sad out of you. You can’t remember the last time you were touched like that.

Remus and you had started dating a few weeks ago, and he really was a sweetheart; and everything you ever needed. Always buying you little trinkets whenever he came over, cooking you dinner, and writing you lovely little notes — that was how he showed his love, and you adored him for it.

But you were fraught with the need to feel his touch — for those kisses to last a little longer, those hugs to be a smidge tighter, and soft cuddles to be more frequent.

You didn’t quite know if it was alright for you to ask, though. You had only just started dating, you weren’t even his girlfriend yet. And you knew Remus was the type to show his love in soft, subtle ways, not in overt means like openly touching and holding you. What if he felt like you were going too fast? You couldn’t risk driving him away.

Remus seems to pick up on the cogs turning in your head and the faraway look in your eyes as you ogle at him. He arches an eyebrow and his mouth twists in a frown as he turns his body towards you. “Sweetheart?”

You blink dazedly. “Hm?”

“Are you okay? You looked a little lost there for a second,” he asks, not unkind in the least.

“I’m fine,” you croak, though all you can think about at the moment is brushing that stray curl away from his face. “Was just thinking about work.”

You know he doesn’t buy it, taking a second too long to answer. But being the gentleman he is, he smiles softly and indulges you. “Okay, dove, if you say so. Don’t stress too much about it, yeah?”

He reaches for the television remote beside him and presses the pause button. “I’m gonna go serve us dinner. You want sauce with your fries?”

“Yeah, sure,” you mutter distractedly, not realising how transfixedly you were gazing at his body, resisting the temptation to crawl into his lap and ask for a hug.

Remus stands up, bending down to press a quick kiss to your forehead. You startle, fighting the urge to grab his wrist and pull him back towards you. You want it so badly, but you can’t let him. You can’t let yourself.

He gives you a bemused smile as he makes a beeline into the kitchen. As soon as he’s out of sight, you heave a sigh and slump backwards on the sofa, wrapping your arms tightly around your waist. You wished he were hugging you instead, with his gentle touches and saccharine words.

You let your eyes flutter closed, squeezing yourself as tight as one possibly can. It helps, a little. You rub your arms desperately, teeth roughly biting down on your bottom lip to stop yourself from bursting out in tears.

In a moment, you hear the clinking of cutlery against plates as Remus sets your dishes down on the table. Before you even open your eyes fully, he’s crouching in front of you and needling your arms apart to press his hands to your back. He pulls you towards him, your face pressing against the crook of his neck.

The feel of his skin on yours is almost painful, and you want to pull away. “Remus,” you choke out, desperately trying to keep your voice even.

“Yeah?” It’s nothing more than a soft murmur as he tucks his chin on your shoulder, pressing his palms into your shoulder blades.

You want to ask him why he was hugging you, tell him that everything was fine. But you know he’s already figured you out.

“You don’t have to,” you say instead.

“Why not?” he asks gently, the feel of his breath warm on your skin. “You want this.” It’s a statement, not a question.

“But…” you hate how you’re warbling. “You don’t have to do this, if it’s not what you want. We agreed to go slow.”

“Going slow means I can’t hug you?” he asks softly, but you hear the teasing in his voice.

“No,” you say quickly, feeling the ache in your chest start to worsen. “But I don’t know if you want to touch me, if you want to be touched. I — I know you have different ways of showing your love, and I’ll take any love you can give me —“

“Angel,” Remus breathes, making you stop short. “This isn’t a job offer. I’ll show you love however you want me to.” He tilts his head up to press a kiss to your hair, and the ache starts to soften. “You’re allowed to want this,” he murmurs, like he’s reading your mind.

That pulls a soft sob out of you, as you ball up the fabric of his T-shirt in your hands and cling to it. You wanted this so much, it feels almost ethereal now that you’re getting it.

Remus coos sympathetically, his joints cracking painfully as he kneels down fully. He doesn’t mind in the slightest. He starts to gently knead your scalp, his other hand coasting from one shoulder to the other on your back.

You feel like maybe he doesn’t deserve this, your tears and your demandingness. You feel like you have to explain yourself. “I just —“ you try, his heart squeezing at the unnaturally high pitch.

Remus pulls back slightly, making sure to continue to squeeze the fat at your shoulders kindly. He knows you need the touch. His eyebrows bunch up in worry because of how distraught you look. “I…” you mean to apologise. But all that comes out is a timid, “I just really like hugs.”

His expression softens, and you almost see his lips curve upwards. His heart feels like it’s swelling because of how adorable you look, even with your red, puffy eyes and tear-stained cheeks. “Yeah?” he breathes softly.

You nod meekly, sniffling as you train your eyes on the ground. Remus notes the pink starting to coat your cheeks, and resists the urge to beam and kiss you stupid.

He gently cups your cheek and begins to thumb it, relieved when you melt into his touch instead of pulling away. “I like hugs, too.”

“No, you don’t.”

Remus lets out a soft chuckle at your slightly accusatory tone. “If you want hugs, sweetheart, I’ll give them to you. I really don’t mind. In fact, I’d hold you 24/7 if you wanted.”

“You would?” your eyes light up a bit as you tilt your head up to look at him with a hopeful gaze.

Remus smiles sympathetically — he can’t believe you were so upset over something he would so easily give you. He wasn’t exactly used to physical touch, but for you, he was willing to try. “I would, dove.”

Remus can’t stop the lovesickness which drips into his voice like honey as he thumbs at your cheeks. He ducks his head to meet your eyes, grinning when you meet his gaze and give him a small smile. “Sweetheart, I wanna be with you for the long haul. So you have to tell me when something’s wrong, okay?”

“Okay,” you mumble, flustered with the attention. You felt yourself melting at the affection in his gaze.

This time, he can’t stop the wide smile from curving his lips as he cups your cheeks and presses a soft kiss to your nose. “I love you, sweet thing. Just say the word, and I’ll give you everything you need.”

oh my gosh! I am in love! pleaseee continue this

https://www.tumblr.com/saturnitystar/758532956071624704/chocolate-coated-hearts-rl?source=share

yesss i love barista!remus too much not to continue <3 !! i got so carried away and this was way longer than i expected it to be haha

chocolate-coated hearts | r.l. (part 2)

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

barista!remus x shy!reader

tw: fluff, use of y/n

The rain patters down mercilessly, the tip-tap sound from where it’s hitting your file awfully loud. You break into a slight jog, holding the black file above your head as if it would offer some sort of protection against the downpour.

You were on the way back from the university, and had conveniently ignored your roommate’s reminders to bring an umbrella earlier that morning, because oh, are you sure you checked the forecast for the right day? and it hasn’t rained in weeks – why the hell would it rain today? Unfortunately, it did rain today.

The dampness soaked through your shoes as you moved, splashing upwards to wet your pants. You let out an exasperated sigh and lift your head, eyes darting around to seek shelter until the rain subsided.

In your peripheral vision, you could see a library – but that was way too chilly, given the way you were trembling. There was a bar, but… that was where your weird neighbour, Carl, went every evening. And you were in absolutely no mood to entertain his rambling. You wrap your arms around yourself, shivering as you trot a little further in an attempt to find a decent place. Wetness was seeping into your clothes, igniting a chill throughout your entire body.

As the seconds ticked by, you felt the frustration building up. Everything was just going so wrong today. Your lecturer had returned your analysis of Pride and Prejudice, and you had done so badly that it had to be redone. Plus, you were supposed to go out with Madison for lunch, but she had fallen horribly sick. And now, the torrential rain seemed to be mocking you – adding insult to injury.

The warm orange lighting of a sign came into view, and you squint your eyes to make out the words. Rubbing water off your face, you realise that the sign said Beanie’s. Well, it was a cafe – that was good enough. As you veered off the pathway to the right, you could smell freshly-baked cookies and coffee from the place. It better be warm inside, you thought. One more screw-up, and you genuinely believed you would burst.

You come to a stop outside the cafe, taking laboured gasps of air to catch your breath. You shake the water off your file and push the door open, stepping inside.

Fortunately, it was warm inside – you could feel the hot air blowing onto your skin immediately, drying your clothes from inside out. But to your misfortune, the heat seemed to be spreading to your face as well when you caught sight of the person behind the counter.

It had completely slipped your mind. But now it was all coming back to you, staring at his chiselled arms as he placed a plate of bagels on a tray. Your incident a few weeks ago, when you’d embarrassingly frozen on the spot and let the hot barista pick your donuts for you.

That had weighed on your mind for days, the way you had humiliated yourself in front of possibly the most angelic person on earth, and how said angel had treated you as though you were some kind of delicate flower.

You glance back out at the rain, drawing your lip in between your teeth as you contemplated your options. Either you went back out there, or you moved forward and ordered from Mr. Super Hot Barista. And you were definitely not going back into the rain.

Sucking in a deep breath, you brushed your soaked hair out of your face and wiped your hands on your sweatshirt. You shake off as much water as possible before walking towards the counter, feeling shivers run down your spine – from the cold or from shyness, you weren’t sure.

“Hi.” It comes out unnecessarily loudly, and you cringe. You actively try not to ogle at him, and your eyes fall on the tag on his shirt. Remus, it said. For fuck’s sake, even his name was pretty.

Mr. Super Hot Barista – Remus – looked up from the cookies he was boxing, his hazel eyes meeting yours. You could have sworn something like recognition flashed in his gaze. “Hey,” he smiled easily.

It was happening again, and you hated it. You felt your throat start to go dry as you held his gaze, and his smile slowly widened. You swallowed nervously, the quick drip, drip of water from your hair mirroring how fast your heart was beating. He very well knew the effect he was having on you, and was taking full advantage of it.

“So,” Remus started, “What would you like to order, sweetness?”

You thought you were going to pass out from the sheer amount of endearment in the nickname, eyes widening and cheeks turning pink. But you were a strong, independent young woman. And you were not going to let some random barista knock you off your feet.

“One small cappuccino, please,” you squeak, horrified at how small your voice was.

“Right,” he ducked his head to key it into the register, and you resist the urge to reach out and brush your fingers through his gorgeous curls. “And would you like any chocolate donuts with that?”

You swore your stomach flipped upside down at the comment – he remembered your little situation. Your hands come up to cover your reddening cheeks as you involuntarily let out an embarrassed groan.

The sound of his soft chuckle only exacerbates the sensation of your heart bobbing up and down in your chest. “Sorry, sorry – just messing with you.”

You let out a strangled sort of noise, still unwilling to look up and let him see just how flushed you probably were. When you press your face further into your palms, his voice softens. “Hey, I’m not trying to put you on the spot, I swear. I’m sorry.”

The slight tinge of guilt in his voice makes you look up immediately as you drop your hands to your sides. You see him standing in front of the coffee machine, preparing your cappuccino. “No, no. You’re not putting me on the spot, I’m just –” you sputter out, letting out a nervous chortle.

“God, you’re really embarrassed, aren’t you?” he breathes out in quiet laughter. “Calm down, pretty girl. I promise I won’t bite.” That majorly sucks, you thought. You envisioned how his lips would look biting into a cream puff, cursing yourself for even thinking of it a moment later.

“Okay,” you mumble, flipping your slightly less damp hair over your shoulder. And the next thing you utter, you don’t even think about it before saying it. “Don’t call me pretty girl.”

You immediately slap a hand to your mouth, eyes widening in shock at your own tongue. Literature students, and the yappers they are, Madison had once complained. Now you knew just how right she was.

Remus let out an amused snort, his lips curving upwards in a grin. “Okay, sorry, sweetness.”

“Don’t call me that either.”

“Someone’s picky,” he muttered, the smile still on his face as he pressed a lid onto the cup of coffee before pushing it towards you. “What can I call you, then?”

“Y/n,” you mumble, praying that your delight at having been asked your name was not showing on your face.

“Y/n,” he lets it roll around on his tongue, a sweet smile playing on his lips. He scribbles something onto your cup. “That’s a nice name.”

“You too,” you say without thinking, glancing downwards to pull money out the pocket of your pants. You look up to find him eyeing you with his eyebrow arched. A giggle escapes you as you point at his nametag. “Remus, right?”

He looks down at his shirt and chuckles, realisation lighting up his face. “Yeah, my name’s Remus.”

Remus glances back up as you drop the money into his hand. And you’re very careful not to let your fingers brush against his palm this time.

His smile was soft and sunny, making it feel like it had never even rained in the first place. “Bye.”

“Bye,” you echo, your heart fluttering in your chest as you offer him a smile. You turn around to find a table, and just then realise that the cafe was as crowded as it was the last time you were here, if not more.

You purse your lips worriedly. It was still storming outside, and you really needed to get started on your failed analysis and your newly assigned one –

“Y/n!”

You swivel back around to find Remus grinning at you. “You can sit here,” he gestures at the bar stools in front of the platform, which were unoccupied. “I get lonely anyway. It’ll be nice to have some fun company.”

“Oh,” you murmur, an unignorable sense of relief settling over you. “Okay, thanks.” You make your way over, setting your coffee and tote bag down on the platform before hauling yourself up onto the stool.

As he picks up donuts and packs them into boxes, you pull out your book and a stack of foolscap. Remus glances up at the sound, his face immediately lighting up. “M.L. Rio?”

You nod. If We Were Villains was the next book you were assigned to work on.

“That was a good book,” he says casually as he begins to work again. “Why, are you annotating it or something?”

You try not to beam. He reads, your brain was screaming at you. He reads and he has excellent fucking taste. Could he possibly be more perfect?

“Not just annotating,” you reply, a pleased lilt to your voice. “Analysing, for a project. Oh – I forgot to mention, I’m majoring in literature.”

“Literature, huh?” he grins as he sets his tongs down, and he looks almost bemused. “Interesting.”

You pull out a pen and begin to write, the smile never fading from your face. He lets you work in silence, the only sound being the metallic clinking of tongs as he packs pastries into bags and boxes.

“Hot take,” he says suddenly, a couple minutes later. You look up, surprised. “I don’t believe James was some sort of tragic hero, as people make him out to be. I think he was the villain.”

“No.”

“Yes,” he snorts, and a laugh bubbles out of you. “That’s a ridiculous opinion.”

Remus rolls his eyes. “As a literature student, I think you need to be more open-minded.”

“The title is ‘If We Were Villains’, not ‘I Am The Villain’!” you retort indignantly, earning a loud bout of laughter from him. He shakes his head indulgently, continuing to stack boxes. “Great point.”

You can hear the deadpan in his voice, but decide to take it as a victory anyway. Grinning, you get back to your book as a comfortable silence settles over the both of you.

It was hard, but you were trying your hardest not to glance up at him every once in a while. The glowy orange light on the ceiling shone down on him, and you felt your curiosity growing towards the pale scars that decorated his face.

Whenever he caught you staring, you immediately evaded his gaze and took a sip of your coffee, or jotted something onto your paper. You thought you may have seen him trying not to smile a couple of times.

You blink as you glanced at your foolscap, which was full of random squiggly lines and words written in an attempt to make it seem like you were concentrating. But it was absolutely impossible to focus with Remus in front of you.

You furrow your eyebrows disappointedly. It really was important that you finished this up by tonight, and you were obviously not getting any work done here. One look outside told you that, unfortunately, the rain had stopped and the moon had come out.

Remus perked up when he heard the shuffling coming from you. He looked up to see you packing your things. “Leaving so soon?”

“Sorry,” you mutter as you pick up your cup of coffee, almost finished with it. “I’ve got more work to do at home.” The stool screeches as you stand up, slinging your tote bag over your shoulder. You rake your fingers through your hair – you had spent so long in the cafe, it was completely dry now.

He smiles, “Nah, you don’t need to apologise. It was fun talking to you.”

Your heart smiled at that. “Yeah, I had fun too.”

He stays silent for a moment, observing you. Your face starts to feel hot again. “Okay then, I’m gonna go.”

“Hey, wait a minute,” he calls out, causing you to turn back around.

You tilt your head questioningly. “There’s a poetry reading happening here, tomorrow, at 5pm. You like poetry?”

“Yeah,” you reply. “Yeah, I like poetry.”

He nods, the hint of a smile on his lips. “Come round if you’re free. I think you’ll like it.”

It felt like fireworks had begun to explode everywhere within you, from your head to toes and even in those little spaces between your fingers. “Okay,” you murmur. Your heart was tingling with excitement. “I’ll try to make it.”

“Great,” he grins, chucking his hands in his pockets as he leaned against the platform behind him. “Cool, then. See you.”

“See you,” you smile dazedly, pivoting and walking towards the exit with your coffee in hand. Your beam widened as you walked out, strolling back home as you sipped your coffee.

Remus had invited you to a poetry reading. A poetry reading.

Your cheeks ached from how hard you were grinning. You drink the last bit of your cappuccino, going to throw it in a bin on the street. That’s when you caught sight of something scrawled in black ink on the side of the cup.

There was a heart next to your name, and a number below it. Call me, pretty girl, it said in brackets.

You skipped all the way home.

oh my gosh! I am in love! pleaseee continue this

https://www.tumblr.com/saturnitystar/758532956071624704/chocolate-coated-hearts-rl?source=share

yesss i love barista!remus too much not to continue <3 !! i got so carried away and this was way longer than i expected it to be haha

chocolate-coated hearts | r.l. (part 2)

part 1 | part 2

barista!remus x shy!reader

tw: fluff, use of y/n

The rain patters down mercilessly, the tip-tap sound from where it’s hitting your file awfully loud. You break into a slight jog, holding the black file above your head as if it would offer some sort of protection against the downpour.

You were on the way back from the university, and had conveniently ignored your roommate’s reminders to bring an umbrella earlier that morning, because oh, are you sure you checked the forecast for the right day? and it hasn’t rained in weeks – why the hell would it rain today? Unfortunately, it did rain today.

The dampness soaked through your shoes as you moved, splashing upwards to wet your pants. You let out an exasperated sigh and lift your head, eyes darting around to seek shelter until the rain subsided.

In your peripheral vision, you could see a library – but that was way too chilly, given the way you were trembling. There was a bar, but… that was where your weird neighbour, Carl, went every evening. And you were in absolutely no mood to entertain his rambling. You wrap your arms around yourself, shivering as you trot a little further in an attempt to find a decent place. Wetness was seeping into your clothes, igniting a chill throughout your entire body.

As the seconds ticked by, you felt the frustration building up. Everything was just going so wrong today. Your lecturer had returned your analysis of Pride and Prejudice, and you had done so badly that it had to be redone. Plus, you were supposed to go out with Madison for lunch, but she had fallen horribly sick. And now, the torrential rain seemed to be mocking you – adding insult to injury.

The warm orange lighting of a sign came into view, and you squint your eyes to make out the words. Rubbing water off your face, you realise that the sign said Beanie’s. Well, it was a cafe – that was good enough. As you veered off the pathway to the right, you could smell freshly-baked cookies and coffee from the place. It better be warm inside, you thought. One more screw-up, and you genuinely believed you would burst.

You come to a stop outside the cafe, taking laboured gasps of air to catch your breath. You shake the water off your file and push the door open, stepping inside.

Fortunately, it was warm inside – you could feel the hot air blowing onto your skin immediately, drying your clothes from inside out. But to your misfortune, the heat seemed to be spreading to your face as well when you caught sight of the person behind the counter.

It had completely slipped your mind. But now it was all coming back to you, staring at his chiselled arms as he placed a plate of bagels on a tray. Your incident a few weeks ago, when you’d embarrassingly frozen on the spot and let the hot barista pick your donuts for you.

That had weighed on your mind for days, the way you had humiliated yourself in front of possibly the most angelic person on earth, and how said angel had treated you as though you were some kind of delicate flower.

You glance back out at the rain, drawing your lip in between your teeth as you contemplated your options. Either you went back out there, or you moved forward and ordered from Mr. Super Hot Barista. And you were definitely not going back into the rain.

Sucking in a deep breath, you brushed your soaked hair out of your face and wiped your hands on your sweatshirt. You shake off as much water as possible before walking towards the counter, feeling shivers run down your spine – from the cold or from shyness, you weren’t sure.

“Hi.” It comes out unnecessarily loudly, and you cringe. You actively try not to ogle at him, and your eyes fall on the tag on his shirt. Remus, it said. For fuck’s sake, even his name was pretty.

Mr. Super Hot Barista – Remus – looked up from the cookies he was boxing, his hazel eyes meeting yours. You could have sworn something like recognition flashed in his gaze. “Hey,” he smiled easily.

It was happening again, and you hated it. You felt your throat start to go dry as you held his gaze, and his smile slowly widened. You swallowed nervously, the quick drip, drip of water from your hair mirroring how fast your heart was beating. He very well knew the effect he was having on you, and was taking full advantage of it.

“So,” Remus started, “What would you like to order, sweetness?”

You thought you were going to pass out from the sheer amount of endearment in the nickname, eyes widening and cheeks turning pink. But you were a strong, independent young woman. And you were not going to let some random barista knock you off your feet.

“One small cappuccino, please,” you squeak, horrified at how small your voice was.

“Right,” he ducked his head to key it into the register, and you resist the urge to reach out and brush your fingers through his gorgeous curls. “And would you like any chocolate donuts with that?”

You swore your stomach flipped upside down at the comment – he remembered your little situation. Your hands come up to cover your reddening cheeks as you involuntarily let out an embarrassed groan.

The sound of his soft chuckle only exacerbates the sensation of your heart bobbing up and down in your chest. “Sorry, sorry – just messing with you.”

You let out a strangled sort of noise, still unwilling to look up and let him see just how flushed you probably were. When you press your face further into your palms, his voice softens. “Hey, I’m not trying to put you on the spot, I swear. I’m sorry.”

The slight tinge of guilt in his voice makes you look up immediately as you drop your hands to your sides. You see him standing in front of the coffee machine, preparing your cappuccino. “No, no. You’re not putting me on the spot, I’m just –” you sputter out, letting out a nervous chortle.

“God, you’re really embarrassed, aren’t you?” he breathes out in quiet laughter. “Calm down, pretty girl. I promise I won’t bite.” That majorly sucks, you thought. You envisioned how his lips would look biting into a cream puff, cursing yourself for even thinking of it a moment later.

“Okay,” you mumble, flipping your slightly less damp hair over your shoulder. And the next thing you utter, you don’t even think about it before saying it. “Don’t call me pretty girl.”

You immediately slap a hand to your mouth, eyes widening in shock at your own tongue. Literature students, and the yappers they are, Madison had once complained. Now you knew just how right she was.

Remus let out an amused snort, his lips curving upwards in a grin. “Okay, sorry, sweetness.”

“Don’t call me that either.”

“Someone’s picky,” he muttered, the smile still on his face as he pressed a lid onto the cup of coffee before pushing it towards you. “What can I call you, then?”

“Y/n,” you mumble, praying that your delight at having been asked your name was not showing on your face.

“Y/n,” he lets it roll around on his tongue, a sweet smile playing on his lips. He scribbles something onto your cup. “That’s a nice name.”

“You too,” you say without thinking, glancing downwards to pull money out the pocket of your pants. You look up to find him eyeing you with his eyebrow arched. A giggle escapes you as you point at his nametag. “Remus, right?”

He looks down at his shirt and chuckles, realisation lighting up his face. “Yeah, my name’s Remus.”

Remus glances back up as you drop the money into his hand. And you’re very careful not to let your fingers brush against his palm this time.

His smile was soft and sunny, making it feel like it had never even rained in the first place. “Bye.”

“Bye,” you echo, your heart fluttering in your chest as you offer him a smile. You turn around to find a table, and just then realise that the cafe was as crowded as it was the last time you were here, if not more.

You purse your lips worriedly. It was still storming outside, and you really needed to get started on your failed analysis and your newly assigned one –

“Y/n!”

You swivel back around to find Remus grinning at you. “You can sit here,” he gestures at the bar stools in front of the platform, which were unoccupied. “I get lonely anyway. It’ll be nice to have some fun company.”

“Oh,” you murmur, an unignorable sense of relief settling over you. “Okay, thanks.” You make your way over, setting your coffee and tote bag down on the platform before hauling yourself up onto the stool.

As he picks up donuts and packs them into boxes, you pull out your book and a stack of foolscap. Remus glances up at the sound, his face immediately lighting up. “M.L. Rio?”

You nod. If We Were Villains was the next book you were assigned to work on.

“That was a good book,” he says casually as he begins to work again. “Why, are you annotating it or something?”

You try not to beam. He reads, your brain was screaming at you. He reads and he has excellent fucking taste. Could he possibly be more perfect?

“Not just annotating,” you reply, a pleased lilt to your voice. “Analysing, for a project. Oh – I forgot to mention, I’m majoring in literature.”

“Literature, huh?” he grins as he sets his tongs down, and he looks almost bemused. “Interesting.”

You pull out a pen and begin to write, the smile never fading from your face. He lets you work in silence, the only sound being the metallic clinking of tongs as he packs pastries into bags and boxes.

“Hot take,” he says suddenly, a couple minutes later. You look up, surprised. “I don’t believe James was some sort of tragic hero, as people make him out to be. I think he was the villain.”

“No.”

“Yes,” he snorts, and a laugh bubbles out of you. “That’s a ridiculous opinion.”

Remus rolls his eyes. “As a literature student, I think you need to be more open-minded.”

“The title is ‘If We Were Villains’, not ‘I Am The Villain’!” you retort indignantly, earning a loud bout of laughter from him. He shakes his head indulgently, continuing to stack boxes. “Great point.”

You can hear the deadpan in his voice, but decide to take it as a victory anyway. Grinning, you get back to your book as a comfortable silence settles over the both of you.

It was hard, but you were trying your hardest not to glance up at him every once in a while. The glowy orange light on the ceiling shone down on him, and you felt your curiosity growing towards the pale scars that decorated his face.

Whenever he caught you staring, you immediately evaded his gaze and took a sip of your coffee, or jotted something onto your paper. You thought you may have seen him trying not to smile a couple of times.

You blink as you glanced at your foolscap, which was full of random squiggly lines and words written in an attempt to make it seem like you were concentrating. But it was absolutely impossible to focus with Remus in front of you.

You furrow your eyebrows disappointedly. It really was important that you finished this up by tonight, and you were obviously not getting any work done here. One look outside told you that, unfortunately, the rain had stopped and the moon had come out.

Remus perked up when he heard the shuffling coming from you. He looked up to see you packing your things. “Leaving so soon?”

“Sorry,” you mutter as you pick up your cup of coffee, almost finished with it. “I’ve got more work to do at home.” The stool screeches as you stand up, slinging your tote bag over your shoulder. You rake your fingers through your hair – you had spent so long in the cafe, it was completely dry now.

He smiles, “Nah, you don’t need to apologise. It was fun talking to you.”

Your heart smiled at that. “Yeah, I had fun too.”

He stays silent for a moment, observing you. Your face starts to feel hot again. “Okay then, I’m gonna go.”

“Hey, wait a minute,” he calls out, causing you to turn back around.

You tilt your head questioningly. “There’s a poetry reading happening here, tomorrow, at 5pm. You like poetry?”

“Yeah,” you reply. “Yeah, I like poetry.”

He nods, the hint of a smile on his lips. “Come round if you’re free. I think you’ll like it.”

It felt like fireworks had begun to explode everywhere within you, from your head to toes and even in those little spaces between your fingers. “Okay,” you murmur. Your heart was tingling with excitement. “I’ll try to make it.”

“Great,” he grins, chucking his hands in his pockets as he leaned against the platform behind him. “Cool, then. See you.”

“See you,” you smile dazedly, pivoting and walking towards the exit with your coffee in hand. Your beam widened as you walked out, strolling back home as you sipped your coffee.

Remus had invited you to a poetry reading. A poetry reading.

Your cheeks ached from how hard you were grinning. You drink the last bit of your cappuccino, going to throw it in a bin on the street. That’s when you caught sight of something scrawled in black ink on the side of the cup.

There was a heart next to your name, and a number below it. Call me, pretty girl, it said in brackets.

You skipped all the way home.

Hello,💚

I was wondering if you’d be willing to write Remus x Fem!Reader who just had surgery of some sort? Preferably some hurt/comfort and fluff, where R is in pain and Remus is sweet about it?

Or if you’re not comfortable with that, any hurt/comfort with Remus would be great :))

(This is my first time requesting, but I really love your works! I just had surgery for my endometriosis, and I haven’t been sleeping much because of pain, so I’ve been up binge reading your works instead 😅)

💚

thank you so much for the request angel! honestly this hit home, because my mum had to have surgery for her endometriosis too, and i just wanted to say that i’m proud of you for being so strong. i hope that the pain has eased now, and you’re getting some well-deserved rest! <3

better | r.l.

tw: mention of surgery, hurt/comfort

remus lupin x reader

Remus rolls over on the bed, feeling around for you until he finds your hand. He takes your fingers in his, lacing them together before giving a soft squeeze.

“Hey sweetheart,” his words are soft and stringed together, as though dipped in honey. Your eyes are wide open as you look at him, the soft moonlight from the window casting shadows across your face. “Hi.”

“Still can’t sleep?” he murmurs, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles gently. His heart aches as he eyes you, curled up in a foetal position with your arms wrapped around your knees. You’ve pressed yourself so tightly together Remus thinks you might squeeze yourself half to death.

“No,” you mumble, trying to keep the hurt out of your voice for his sake. But he can see the slight contortion in your features, and he knows the pain is bothering you.

You’d just gotten surgery for your endometriosis a few days ago, after much convincing from your boyfriend. The pain had been bothering you for months before the surgery and he was convinced that you would feel a lot better once you faced the music. However, these past few days post-surgery weren’t proving to be any better, and he’d often find you in tears from how much everything hurt.

Remus hated that he couldn’t do anything to just take all your pain away and make it alright. But like all good things, it had to get worse before it got better.

He reaches a hand out, cupping your face in the basin of his palm as he silently thumbs your cheek. You relax into his touch, and let your eyes flutter closed.

“Rem,” you whisper.

“Yeah, dove?”

“It really hurts.”

Remus doesn’t miss the crack in your voice, and he feels like his heart is being cleaved in two. A pitiful sound comes from the back of his throat as he extends his other hand to stroke comfortingly at your hairline. “I know, baby. I’m sorry.”

At his sympathy, you curl in on yourself even further as though pained. Hot tears dribble down your cheeks and curve the bridge of your nose, and Remus moves his thumb to swipe at them. You whimper, and it makes him hurt in all the worst ways.

“I’m so tired. And I just want to sleep, but I can’t, and –” you choke pathetically on the lump in your throat. Remus shushes you, unable to stop himself from tugging you closer until your knees are squished between both of your chests. He presses a hand to your back, rubbing up and down your spine in a way he hopes is comforting.

Leaning forward, he presses his lips to your hairline. “I’m so sorry, honey. But you’re going to feel better in a few more days.” He desperately wishes his kiss could convey all the comfort and love you needed right now.

Remus needles an arm between your knees and stomach, pressing the back of his hand to your abdomen. His fingers start to trace a circular motion, knuckles brushing against your stitches in the same way they’ve done countless times before. He feels the muscles underneath his hand relax slightly.

“But what if I don’t feel better?” you warble. “What if I never sleep again?”

Remus could almost laugh at how loopy the meds made you if you didn’t sound so pitiful. More tears wet your eyelashes, and he indulgently kisses them away before smoothing his fingers over your cheeks.

“Then I’ll get you sleeping meds.”

“Really?” you sniffle, and it’s the most hopeful you’ve sounded that whole week. But you both know that Remus wasn’t going to let you ruin your system with more medicines than necessary.

“No,” he whispers bemusedly, almost guilty when he hears the earnest longing in your voice, “but what I can do for you right now is get you the heating pad.”

You don’t even look upset at his words, seemingly expecting the response. Your lip quivers as you draw it in between your teeth guiltily. “I don’t want you to get up, though. You should be getting some rest. I bet you’re exhausted, looking after me all night.”

Remus presses a quick peck to the tender spot beneath your eye as he pushes his elbows into the mattress, hoisting himself up straight. “I’m up, sweetheart.” He pulls his hand away from your abdomen, unable to stop the small smile that forms when you whine in protest.

He bends down to press another kiss to your forehead, and you feel the upward curve of his lips against your skin. “And I don’t mind looking after you. The only thing I’m worried about right now is you not getting enough rest.”

You hum softly in response, and Remus resists the urge to cocoon you in a mountain of blankets and smother your pain away. Instead, he brushes strands of hair back from your face. “Try to sleep, please.”

“After you get me the heating pad.”

He hums indulgently, moving his hand to the nape of your neck and comfortingly brushing over the baby hairs there. “You want anything else? Chocolate, or hot tea, maybe?”

“Chocolate would be nice,” you admit.

“Then chocolate it is,” he smiles as he stands up, rounding the bed.

“Rem?”

“Yeah, dove?”

“Are you sure you can’t get me sleeping pills?”

Remus huffs out a laugh, giving your foot a warning squeeze before leaving the room.

Hello,💚

I was wondering if you’d be willing to write Remus x Fem!Reader who just had surgery of some sort? Preferably some hurt/comfort and fluff, where R is in pain and Remus is sweet about it?

Or if you’re not comfortable with that, any hurt/comfort with Remus would be great :))

(This is my first time requesting, but I really love your works! I just had surgery for my endometriosis, and I haven’t been sleeping much because of pain, so I’ve been up binge reading your works instead 😅)

💚

thank you so much for the request angel! honestly this hit home, because my mum had to have surgery for her endometriosis too, and i just wanted to say that i’m proud of you for being so strong. i hope that the pain has eased now, and you’re getting some well-deserved rest! <3

better | r.l.

tw: mention of surgery, hurt/comfort

remus lupin x reader

Remus rolls over on the bed, feeling around for you until he finds your hand. He takes your fingers in his, lacing them together before giving a soft squeeze.

“Hey sweetheart,” his words are soft and stringed together, as though dipped in honey. Your eyes are wide open as you look at him, the soft moonlight from the window casting shadows across your face. “Hi.”

“Still can’t sleep?” he murmurs, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles gently. His heart aches as he eyes you, curled up in a foetal position with your arms wrapped around your knees. You’ve pressed yourself so tightly together Remus thinks you might squeeze yourself half to death.

“No,” you mumble, trying to keep the hurt out of your voice for his sake. But he can see the slight contortion in your features, and he knows the pain is bothering you.

You’d just gotten surgery for your endometriosis a few days ago, after much convincing from your boyfriend. The pain had been bothering you for months before the surgery and he was convinced that you would feel a lot better once you faced the music. However, these past few days post-surgery weren’t proving to be any better, and he’d often find you in tears from how much everything hurt.

Remus hated that he couldn’t do anything to just take all your pain away and make it alright. But like all good things, it had to get worse before it got better.

He reaches a hand out, cupping your face in the basin of his palm as he silently thumbs your cheek. You relax into his touch, and let your eyes flutter closed.

“Rem,” you whisper.

“Yeah, dove?”

“It really hurts.”

Remus doesn’t miss the crack in your voice, and he feels like his heart is being cleaved in two. A pitiful sound comes from the back of his throat as he extends his other hand to stroke comfortingly at your hairline. “I know, baby. I’m sorry.”

At his sympathy, you curl in on yourself even further as though pained. Hot tears dribble down your cheeks and curve the bridge of your nose, and Remus moves his thumb to swipe at them. You whimper, and it makes him hurt in all the worst ways.

“I’m so tired. And I just want to sleep, but I can’t, and –” you choke pathetically on the lump in your throat. Remus shushes you, unable to stop himself from tugging you closer until your knees are squished between both of your chests. He presses a hand to your back, rubbing up and down your spine in a way he hopes is comforting.

Leaning forward, he presses his lips to your hairline. “I’m so sorry, honey. But you’re going to feel better in a few more days.” He desperately wishes his kiss could convey all the comfort and love you needed right now.

Remus needles an arm between your knees and stomach, pressing the back of his hand to your abdomen. His fingers start to trace a circular motion, knuckles brushing against your stitches in the same way they’ve done countless times before. He feels the muscles underneath his hand relax slightly.

“But what if I don’t feel better?” you warble. “What if I never sleep again?”

Remus could almost laugh at how loopy the meds made you if you didn’t sound so pitiful. More tears wet your eyelashes, and he indulgently kisses them away before smoothing his fingers over your cheeks.

“Then I’ll get you sleeping meds.”

“Really?” you sniffle, and it’s the most hopeful you’ve sounded that whole week. But you both know that Remus wasn’t going to let you ruin your system with more medicines than necessary.

“No,” he whispers bemusedly, almost guilty when he hears the earnest longing in your voice, “but what I can do for you right now is get you the heating pad.”

You don’t even look upset at his words, seemingly expecting the response. Your lip quivers as you draw it in between your teeth guiltily. “I don’t want you to get up, though. You should be getting some rest. I bet you’re exhausted, looking after me all night.”

Remus presses a quick peck to the tender spot beneath your eye as he pushes his elbows into the mattress, hoisting himself up straight. “I’m up, sweetheart.” He pulls his hand away from your abdomen, unable to stop the small smile that forms when you whine in protest.

He bends down to press another kiss to your forehead, and you feel the upward curve of his lips against your skin. “And I don’t mind looking after you. The only thing I’m worried about right now is you not getting enough rest.”

You hum softly in response, and Remus resists the urge to cocoon you in a mountain of blankets and smother your pain away. Instead, he brushes strands of hair back from your face. “Try to sleep, please.”

“After you get me the heating pad.”

He hums indulgently, moving his hand to the nape of your neck and comfortingly brushing over the baby hairs there. “You want anything else? Chocolate, or hot tea, maybe?”

“Chocolate would be nice,” you admit.

“Then chocolate it is,” he smiles as he stands up, rounding the bed.

“Rem?”

“Yeah, dove?”

“Are you sure you can’t get me sleeping pills?”

Remus huffs out a laugh, giving your foot a warning squeeze before leaving the room.

chocolate-coated hearts | r.l. (part 3)

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

barista!remus x shy!reader

You smoothen the ruffles on your dress, twirling this way and that. One last glance at the mirror was spent convincing yourself you looked fine before you finally stepped out of your apartment.

The wind blew your hair back as you walked, the click-clack of your boots on the pavement mirroring the thumping of your heart. It was loud and fast, so much so that you wouldn’t be surprised if there was a bomb waiting to explode in you.

The barista, Remus — possibly the loveliest human being on earth, had invited you to a poetry reading at Beanie’s. He scribbled down his number onto your coffee cup too, which had to have meant something.

The nerves were starting to get the better of you, your heart climbing its way up your throat as you neared the café. 

This was the first time you so desperately wished that you hadn’t majored in literature, that you didn’t feel the impact of words as deeply as you did. A poetry reading would definitely trigger the part of you which didn’t shut up once uncorked, and you were praying you didn’t mess this whole thing up with your tendency to ramble.

Beanie’s was always crowded, but as you pushed the door open, the largeness of the mob was startlingly obvious. You couldn’t help but think it looked more like a fish market than a café, feeling skin against skin as you pushed past people.

There was a small stage set up at the corner, fairy lights strung above it. At the moment, there was a teenage girl timidly reciting something from a scrunched up piece of paper. You paid her no heed, craning your neck to find Remus.

Just then, an arm wrapped around your waist and you yelp, head swivelling to come face to face with Madison. “Hi, gorgeous.”

You sigh, feeling the tension leave your shoulders as she gives you a peck on the cheek. Of course, she came. Your best friend wouldn’t shut up for hours after you told her Remus had given you his number. “Hey.”

“Where is he?” she asks immediately, trying to follow your line of vision.

You shrug, eyes darting around till you spot someone’s gaze trained on you from across the café. It’s not Remus, by any means. But he’s undeniably attractive, long black curls and tattoos all over. Once you finally meet his eyes, he grins and wriggles his eyebrows. Who the fuck —

Just then, Remus sticks his head out from behind the stranger and beams at you, giving you a wave. You immediately shift your gaze to him, your heart feeling like it can’t decide whether it wants to be in your throat or chest.

A small smile makes its way onto your face as you wave back, trying to shove your way over to him with Madison on your heels. 

“And now, we’ve got Remus Lupin, with The Bell Jar by Sylvia… um… Plait? Plaque! Sylvia Plaque!” a waiter suddenly squeaks into the microphone before scurrying off stage. You pause in your movements, Remus giving you an almost apologetic smile before he climbs up.

“Hello,” he tests the microphone, his lips curving upwards as some members in the crowd cheer. You notice that the black-haired man from earlier seemed particularly enthusiastic, yelling “Go, Moony!” and sticking his fingers in his mouth to whistle.

You train your vision back on Remus as he starts to speak. “So, this isn’t exactly a poem,” he starts. “It’s an excerpt from one of my favourite books. And it really resonated with me, so I’d like to share it with you.”

You listen silently, anticipating whatever he was going to say next. It was alarming how much this mattered to you, that he had good choices in stories and poems and words. Because how were you to fall in love with a man who didn’t feel lingo as deafeningly as he felt the beat of his heart? He wouldn’t be able to understand you; you were sure, if he couldn’t listen to the silent pleas of scribbles on pages. You conversed like a book, like you were begging to be understood and silently guarded in the heart of one’s brain – and you only hoped that there was someone out there willing to peruse scripture after scripture till he memorised the language of your lips. Right now, you were really wishing that someone was the gorgeous man in front of you.

“I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story…”

Your eyes flutter shut as you lose yourself in his soliloquy. You don’t just hear his speech, but you listen. You listen to the ache that seeps into his voice, the silent rasp of air leaving his lips as he stresses on words he deems important, the sheer longing etched in every word. And you couldn’t see it, but you could feel his gaze on you, you could feel the string connecting his heart straight to yours.

“...they plopped to the ground beneath my feet,” he finishes. A slow, somewhat hesitant round of applause sounds in the café.

You open your eyes, unsurprised to find them misty. You bring your fingers to your cheeks and swipe the tears away. Madison was gripping one of your hands, squeezing it. The both of you were used to this, your onslaught of tears whenever you felt a little too hard. 

You watch as Remus steps off the stage, disappearing into the sea of people. Someone else climbs up, and you zone out, getting lost in your thoughts once more.

“Hey.” You blink, looking up to see Remus in front of you now, his pretty face scrunched up a bit in worry. “Hey, Y/n. You okay? Saw you getting a little emotional just now.”

Madison makes a small squeal of excitement, and Remus flashes her a small smile before turning back to you, patiently waiting for you to respond.

A teary chuckle bubbles out of you, “Sorry, yeah, I’m all good. It’s just – that was really something. It hurt in the best way. You have great taste, you know.”

He softens at your confession, a smile playing on the edges of his lips. “Thank you. And I get it, I couldn’t stop crying for almost an hour when I first read it.”

You let out a real laugh at the thought of that, and his smile breaks into a grin. He reaches forward, and you barely have a moment to comprehend it before he’s wiping away the tears on your cheeks. You really hope he can’t feel the heat emanating from your skin, or hear the giggles from beside you.

You make it a point to shoot Madison a dirty look as he pulls his hand away. “On another note,” he starts, and you can hear his slight cockiness at having you all flustered, “I didn’t think you’d come.”

“Of course –” you meant to say that you’d cleared your schedule to be able to make it, but the words die on your tongue as he whips a rose stalk out from behind his back and holds it out for you.

You stare up at him blankly, feeling your heartbeat growing more erratic by the second. “A small thank you for attending.”

“You give it to all the customers, then?”

“No. Just the prettiest one.”

You press a hand to your mouth to stop yourself from gasping, and shakily reach out to take the flower from him. Twisting it in your fingers, you feel your heart start to turn to mush – he had cut off all the thorns on the stalk.

“Thank you.”

He grins, and it’s more endearing than the rose between your fingers. A sideway glance at your best friend tells you she’s at the edge of combusting into giggles and swoons.

“Hello, lovely ladies.”

Your gaze shifts to the right of Remus to see that man, the good-looking one who had been staring at you from afar. You arch an eyebrow, but Madison matches his energy. “Hey, handsome.”

His eyes linger on you. “You’re Y/n, I assume. Moony – Remus has told me all about you.” Your heart does a backflip and you glance at Remus, only to find him already smiling at you.

“But you,” he turns to your best friend, his thoughtful expression morphing into a grin. “Who might you be?”

“Madison.”

“Madison,” he drawls. “Sirius.”

You watch as Sirius compliments her dress, and she turns a red so deep it could rival how you had been minutes ago. And you smile, because you knew she’d been belittling herself over her appearance with the baby bump.

Remus silently tugs on your hand, steering you away from them. He glances over at the two of them again, grinning. “Sorry about Sirius. The asshole can be such a flirt.”

You huff out a laugh. “No, it’s quite alright. Madison’s quite the lovergirl herself, and god knows she needs this after her previous relationship.”

He nods understandingly, and a silence settles over the two of you. “I’m glad you came. You know, studying literature and stuff, I thought you’d like it.”

“I’m glad I came too. But I’m sorry you had to see me like –” you chuckle nervously, doing a jazz hands in front of your face, “like this, tears and all.”

His curls bounce as he laughs, eyes crinkling at the corners. You couldn’t help but think that all the creative evocations you’ve ever read fell short in comparison to the depth of his eyes. “That’s nothing to apologise for, sweet girl. You look just as lovely even when you’re crying.”

You pull your lip between your teeth to stop the smile from spreading across your face, feeling your heart do a somersault in your chest.

“Babe –” Madison comes over, out of breath. “Can we leave? I still haven’t gotten the groceries for tonight. And you’re helping me with dinner.”

You glance over her shoulder to see Sirius watching her with hearts in his eyes, and you let out a soft snicker when you see tints of Madison’s maroon lipstick on his cheek. “Okay.”

Madison starts pulling you towards the exit. You cast a glance at Remus, smiling and waving.

“Y/n!” Remus calls out, and you tug on Madison’s fingers to get her to stop.

“Yeah?”

“How else would you like me to see you?”

You blink. “Huh?”

He chuckles. “You said you didn’t want me to see you like this, in tears. How else – where else can I see you, sweetness?”

Your heart jolts at his obvious attempts at flirting, and how easily it was working.

“Tammy’s Bookstore,” you almost mumble, shyness flooding into your voice. “8pm to 12am shift.”

Remus seems to have gotten the answer he wanted. “Cool. I’ll see you there sometime.”

You turn around before he can see how pink you’ve turned, urging Madison out the shop.

“And sweetheart? Use the phone number.”

a/n: okay so i had a lot of fun with this part!! but i'd love to hear feedback, if you think maybe i'm sidetracking or you have any ideas for the next part <3 also the excerpt mentioned is about how we can't take every opportunity we wish we could in our short life, and it's from the bell jar by Sylvia Plath. agonisingly beautiful, hits you right in the feels!! here it is if you're interested :)

chocolate-coated hearts | r.l. (part 3)

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

barista!remus x shy!reader

You smoothen the ruffles on your dress, twirling this way and that. One last glance at the mirror was spent convincing yourself you looked fine before you finally stepped out of your apartment.

The wind blew your hair back as you walked, the click-clack of your boots on the pavement mirroring the thumping of your heart. It was loud and fast, so much so that you wouldn’t be surprised if there was a bomb waiting to explode in you.

The barista, Remus — possibly the loveliest human being on earth, had invited you to a poetry reading at Beanie’s. He scribbled down his number onto your coffee cup too, which had to have meant something.

The nerves were starting to get the better of you, your heart climbing its way up your throat as you neared the café. 

This was the first time you so desperately wished that you hadn’t majored in literature, that you didn’t feel the impact of words as deeply as you did. A poetry reading would definitely trigger the part of you which didn’t shut up once uncorked, and you were praying you didn’t mess this whole thing up with your tendency to ramble.

Beanie’s was always crowded, but as you pushed the door open, the largeness of the mob was startlingly obvious. You couldn’t help but think it looked more like a fish market than a café, feeling skin against skin as you pushed past people.

There was a small stage set up at the corner, fairy lights strung above it. At the moment, there was a teenage girl timidly reciting something from a scrunched up piece of paper. You paid her no heed, craning your neck to find Remus.

Just then, an arm wrapped around your waist and you yelp, head swivelling to come face to face with Madison. “Hi, gorgeous.”

You sigh, feeling the tension leave your shoulders as she gives you a peck on the cheek. Of course, she came. Your best friend wouldn’t shut up for hours after you told her Remus had given you his number. “Hey.”

“Where is he?” she asks immediately, trying to follow your line of vision.

You shrug, eyes darting around till you spot someone’s gaze trained on you from across the café. It’s not Remus, by any means. But he’s undeniably attractive, long black curls and tattoos all over. Once you finally meet his eyes, he grins and wriggles his eyebrows. Who the fuck —

Just then, Remus sticks his head out from behind the stranger and beams at you, giving you a wave. You immediately shift your gaze to him, your heart feeling like it can’t decide whether it wants to be in your throat or chest.

A small smile makes its way onto your face as you wave back, trying to shove your way over to him with Madison on your heels. 

“And now, we’ve got Remus Lupin, with The Bell Jar by Sylvia… um… Plait? Plaque! Sylvia Plaque!” a waiter suddenly squeaks into the microphone before scurrying off stage. You pause in your movements, Remus giving you an almost apologetic smile before he climbs up.

“Hello,” he tests the microphone, his lips curving upwards as some members in the crowd cheer. You notice that the black-haired man from earlier seemed particularly enthusiastic, yelling “Go, Moony!” and sticking his fingers in his mouth to whistle.

You train your vision back on Remus as he starts to speak. “So, this isn’t exactly a poem,” he starts. “It’s an excerpt from one of my favourite books. And it really resonated with me, so I’d like to share it with you.”

You listen silently, anticipating whatever he was going to say next. It was alarming how much this mattered to you, that he had good choices in stories and poems and words. Because how were you to fall in love with a man who didn’t feel lingo as deafeningly as he felt the beat of his heart? He wouldn’t be able to understand you; you were sure, if he couldn’t listen to the silent pleas of scribbles on pages. You conversed like a book, like you were begging to be understood and silently guarded in the heart of one’s brain – and you only hoped that there was someone out there willing to peruse scripture after scripture till he memorised the language of your lips. Right now, you were really wishing that someone was the gorgeous man in front of you.

“I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story…”

Your eyes flutter shut as you lose yourself in his soliloquy. You don’t just hear his speech, but you listen. You listen to the ache that seeps into his voice, the silent rasp of air leaving his lips as he stresses on words he deems important, the sheer longing etched in every word. And you couldn’t see it, but you could feel his gaze on you, you could feel the string connecting his heart straight to yours.

“...they plopped to the ground beneath my feet,” he finishes. A slow, somewhat hesitant round of applause sounds in the café.

You open your eyes, unsurprised to find them misty. You bring your fingers to your cheeks and swipe the tears away. Madison was gripping one of your hands, squeezing it. The both of you were used to this, your onslaught of tears whenever you felt a little too hard. 

You watch as Remus steps off the stage, disappearing into the sea of people. Someone else climbs up, and you zone out, getting lost in your thoughts once more.

“Hey.” You blink, looking up to see Remus in front of you now, his pretty face scrunched up a bit in worry. “Hey, Y/n. You okay? Saw you getting a little emotional just now.”

Madison makes a small squeal of excitement, and Remus flashes her a small smile before turning back to you, patiently waiting for you to respond.

A teary chuckle bubbles out of you, “Sorry, yeah, I’m all good. It’s just – that was really something. It hurt in the best way. You have great taste, you know.”

He softens at your confession, a smile playing on the edges of his lips. “Thank you. And I get it, I couldn’t stop crying for almost an hour when I first read it.”

You let out a real laugh at the thought of that, and his smile breaks into a grin. He reaches forward, and you barely have a moment to comprehend it before he’s wiping away the tears on your cheeks. You really hope he can’t feel the heat emanating from your skin, or hear the giggles from beside you.

You make it a point to shoot Madison a dirty look as he pulls his hand away. “On another note,” he starts, and you can hear his slight cockiness at having you all flustered, “I didn’t think you’d come.”

“Of course –” you meant to say that you’d cleared your schedule to be able to make it, but the words die on your tongue as he whips a rose stalk out from behind his back and holds it out for you.

You stare up at him blankly, feeling your heartbeat growing more erratic by the second. “A small thank you for attending.”

“You give it to all the customers, then?”

“No. Just the prettiest one.”

You press a hand to your mouth to stop yourself from gasping, and shakily reach out to take the flower from him. Twisting it in your fingers, you feel your heart start to turn to mush – he had cut off all the thorns on the stalk.

“Thank you.”

He grins, and it’s more endearing than the rose between your fingers. A sideway glance at your best friend tells you she’s at the edge of combusting into giggles and swoons.

“Hello, lovely ladies.”

Your gaze shifts to the right of Remus to see that man, the good-looking one who had been staring at you from afar. You arch an eyebrow, but Madison matches his energy. “Hey, handsome.”

His eyes linger on you. “You’re Y/n, I assume. Moony – Remus has told me all about you.” Your heart does a backflip and you glance at Remus, only to find him already smiling at you.

“But you,” he turns to your best friend, his thoughtful expression morphing into a grin. “Who might you be?”

“Madison.”

“Madison,” he drawls. “Sirius.”

You watch as Sirius compliments her dress, and she turns a red so deep it could rival how you had been minutes ago. And you smile, because you knew she’d been belittling herself over her appearance with the baby bump.

Remus silently tugs on your hand, steering you away from them. He glances over at the two of them again, grinning. “Sorry about Sirius. The asshole can be such a flirt.”

You huff out a laugh. “No, it’s quite alright. Madison’s quite the lovergirl herself, and god knows she needs this after her previous relationship.”

He nods understandingly, and a silence settles over the two of you. “I’m glad you came. You know, studying literature and stuff, I thought you’d like it.”

“I’m glad I came too. But I’m sorry you had to see me like –” you chuckle nervously, doing a jazz hands in front of your face, “like this, tears and all.”

His curls bounce as he laughs, eyes crinkling at the corners. You couldn’t help but think that all the creative evocations you’ve ever read fell short in describing the depth of his eyes. “That’s nothing to apologise for, sweet girl. You look just as lovely even when you’re crying.”

You pull your lip between your teeth to stop the smile from spreading across your face.

“Babe –” Madison comes over, out of breath. “Can we leave? I still haven’t gotten the groceries for tonight. And you’re helping me with dinner.”

You glance over her shoulder to see Sirius watching her with hearts in his eyes, and you let out a soft snicker when you see tints of Madison’s maroon lipstick on his cheek. “Okay.”

Madison pulls you towards the exit. You cast a glance at Remus, smiling and waving.

“Y/n!” Remus calls out, and you tug on Madison’s fingers to get her to stop.

“Yeah?”

“How else would you like me to see you?”

You blink. “Huh?”

He chuckles. “You said you didn’t want me to see you like this, in tears. How else – where else can I see you, sweetness?”

Your heart jolts at his obvious attempts at flirting, and how easily it was working.

“Tammy’s Bookstore,” you almost mumble, shyness flooding into your voice. “8pm to 12am shift.”

Remus seems to have gotten the answer he wanted. “Cool. I’ll see you there sometime.”

You turn around before he can see how pink you’ve turned, urging Madison out the shop.

“And sweetheart? Use the phone number.”

a/n: okay so i had a lot of fun with this part!! but i'd love to hear feedback, if you think maybe i'm sidetracking or you have any ideas for the next part <3 also the excerpt mentioned is about how we can't take every opportunity we wish we could in our short life, and it's from the bell jar by Sylvia Plath. agonisingly beautiful, hits you right in the feels!! here it is if you're interested :)

okay | r.l.

a/n: for my academically burnt out girlies (can you tell i’m one of them😭)

tw: fluff

remus lupin x reader

Remus quietly padded down into the common room, unsurprised to find you seated at the table with parchments and books scattered around you.

There was a puddle of drool spreading from where your face rested against a book, fast asleep. Remus internally winced; there was no way that was a comfortable position for your neck.

He gently brushes the tips of his fingers against your hairline and you immediately jolt awake, almost knocking his arm in the process.

You raise your hands to rub your eyes with slowed movements, the exhaustion lining your features painfully obvious. You turn to him, befuddled, before realising who it is and softening.

You looked adorable, mussed up hair and wide-eyed. It had Remus thinking about how it would feel to wake up to the sight for the rest of his life. “How long have you been up for, dove?”

He flattens his palms onto your shoulder blades, needling pressure into the tense muscles with his thumbs. You melt under his touch, your shoulders slumping. “Not very long,” you lie.

“It’s 4am, baby. You’ve been studying all night, haven’t you?”

You draw your bottom lip between your teeth, letting out a soft sigh. “Yeah… I guess. But I have to, there’s still three more chapters I’m not done revising. I just need more coffee.”

“The last thing you need right now,” Remus mutters as he lets go of your shoulders and lowers himself into a chair beside you, “is coffee. You need to get some rest, sweetheart. You’re not gonna be able to remember anything when you’re this tired.”

He uses his foot to push your chair around till you’re facing him. You reach for him immediately, sleepy movements causing you to lay your arms, bundled up, in his lap. Bemusedly, he takes your hands and starts to rub circles into your wrists.

“But I’m not tired,” you argue, though your eyelids look like they’re physically weighing you down. You’re blinking so forcefully Remus thinks it would generate enough energy to power a light bulb. “I just took a power nap and I’m good now.”

“That’s not enough, dove. It’s late, and you’re gonna be fucked up tomorrow. You need proper rest.”

“Do I?”

“You do.”

Your face is lovably scrunched up now, and Remus can’t tell if you’re trying to challenge him or if your brain really is that fuzzy.

He moves to gather your materials and you make a small noise of protest, dazedly shaking your head. “I can’t rest now, I need to finish studying first.”

You seem hardly able to track his movements, eyelids drooping shut every few seconds. “You can study tomorrow, sweetheart. You’ve studied enough for tonight.”

You huff, stubbornly staying put in your chair. Remus rises to his feet, tucking the stack of books in one arm before firmly pulling you up with the other. You stay silent, obviously annoyed but too exhausted to fight back.

He wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you into his side as he leads you up the staircase to his dorm. The anxiety in your features is palpable, and he feels bad for worsening it. But he knows you, he knows you would never feel like you’ve studied enough. You’d work yourself to the bone if you had it your way, so it was up to him to make sure you didn’t.

“You look exhausted, baby,” he murmurs as he bends down to press a kiss to your forehead. You visibly soften, your expression morphing into one less rigid. “I am exhausted.”

“I know,” he concedes, pushing you onto the bed until you’re properly laying down. “You’re gonna do better with rest, trust me. You’re gonna be okay.”

You hum weakly in response, eyes fluttering shut as soon as your head hits the pillow. Even in your dazed state, your arms extend towards him.

Remus lets out a soft chuckle and climbs into the bed next to you, pulling the covers over the both of you.

You shuffle towards him, seeking his warmth. He wraps an arm around your middle and tugs till you’re snugly pressed up against each other, pecking a kiss to the soft skin beneath your eye. “I meant what I said, alright? Don’t worry about the test. You’re gonna be okay.”

“Okay,” you whisper, and he feels that last bit of uncertainty you had melt away as you deflate. Your words come out muffled as you move impossibly closer, snuggling your face into his chest. “Okay. G’night.”

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

still here | r.l.

summary: it's your birthday :(

a/n: this is the first time i’ve ever really cried when writing something, it’s got a home in my heart now and i hope you like it!! 🫶 (also listen to our lovely girl billie while reading for added heartbreak)

tw: past suicide attempt

You lean back on the couch from where you’re bending over the table. Remus wastes no time in wrapping an arm around your waist, pulling you into his side. He gently presses his lips to your forehead. “Happy birthday, lovely girl.”

“Thank you,” you mumble half-heartedly, grateful but too overwhelmed to show it. 

There’s a cut-up chocolate cake in front of you, which Remus had insisted upon baking. He’d honoured your wishes not to throw a big bash, and of not wanting an actual present. He didn’t exactly understand why — but he loved you too much to not do what you wanted him to; birthday or not.

Guilt weighs heavily on your heart; Remus has been kinder than you deserve. You decide to help him understand.

“You know,” you start softly, tilting your head to lay it on his shoulder. He hums in acknowledgement, fingertips grazing your sleeve as he starts to rub your arm. “I didn’t think I would last this long.”

The shakiness in your voice surprises even you. You feel Remus’ hand still on your arm. 

“What?” he murmurs. You can’t decipher if the slight lilt to his voice is because of sadness or confusion.

“I didn’t think I would last this long,” you repeat quietly, just to be safe, and you feel his hand coasting across your back as he gently grabs your shoulders. He turns you towards him, and you don’t wait for him to ask before you start to explain. “When I was 13, I couldn’t imagine ever making it this far. I tried to kill myself.”

Remus’ eyes widen the slightest bit as he takes in your sudden admission. His grip on your shoulders doesn’t falter; and it’s like you both know he’s the only thing holding you upright. 

When he doesn’t respond, your gaze immediately drops to the couch, shame clouding your eyes.

“I… I didn’t know that.”

The crack in his voice makes you look back up, meeting his gaze. His features are softer, sadder; somehow. There’s the slightest bit of grief in the way he’s regarding you. “Are you glad you made it this far?”

You rub your lips together, taking a shaky breath to make sure your voice comes out evenly. “Yeah,” you exhale softly. “Yeah, I am. I got to meet you.”

“Is that the only reason?”

“No,” you reply honestly. “I love my work. My friends, I really like hanging out with them. And I’d say our apartment is pretty sweet.”

The concern in Remus’ expression is still evident, his brows pinched together almost painfully. His hands bunch up the fabric on your shoulders, tugging you towards him. You’re certain the action is subconscious – he looks lost in thought, like he’s deliberating wrapping you up in his arms and never letting you go.

“Would you like more reasons?” you ask quietly, feeling your vision start to blur. You shouldn’t be surprised that he cares this much, but you are.

When he nods, your heart melts – the magma seems to be pooling in your stomach, and you feel the kind of warmth you’ve only ever been able to feel since you met him.

“Okay,” you decide to indulge him. “I like coffee when I wake up, especially when you make it. Feeding the stray dogs on the side of the road every morning. And my guitar, I like to make music on it. I think music is nice.”

You feel your throat start to clog up, the image of Remus distorting into a blurry swirl in your eyes. “It’s lovely when it rains, especially when we’re both at home, cuddling. And –”

Your voice comes out wobbly, the tears coming hard and fast now. You want to stop, but push on for his sake.

“And I really like our apartment. Did I mention that? Also, your hugs – I love the way you hug. It’s like you really love me, and —”

“I do love you,” Remus interrupts in a shaky exhale, words barely audible from the way his voice is trembling. “I love you, okay? I love you a whole lot. And I’m so glad you’re still with me.”

He doesn’t give you a chance to respond, gently pulling you even closer towards him. You meet him in the middle, arms instinctively wrapping around his waist as he brings his hands up to encircle your shoulders.

Remus squeezes you like it’s his job to hold you together, and you hear a soft sniffle as he buries his face in your hair. 

“I’m so glad you’re still here,” he says again. Your heart clenches in your chest, in all the best ways.

“I love you,” you respond, because you both know it’s synonymous with Thank you for giving me a reason to be here.

heaven | r.l.

i don’t know what this is… not a fic, more like a word vomit about remus loving you HAHA enjoy <3

Remus Lupin wasn’t religious in one way or another. But even he knew you were godsent. 

Passed out, lying with twisted limbs and a drool-filled mouth; you looked nothing short of an angel.

He touches you, you don’t stir. That’s good, he thinks. It means he has more time to love you without having to accept undeserved affection in return. 

He’d asked the question a thousand times, thought about it even more. Why me? And you’d smile at him like he wasn’t a monster, like he wasn’t born to kill. Who else? you’d say. And that’s when Remus realised that it doesn’t take kindness to love somebody; all it takes is that ache in your heart and burn in your fingertips. He wasn’t kind; yet he loved you.

The tips of his fingers dance across your cheek, feeling the soft skin on which his lips had made their home. He has unordinary courage tonight; he dares to bring his other hand to rest on the curve of your hip.

He brushes his thumb, featherlike, underneath your shirt. His shirt. You make a soft sound, and it’s all he needs to hear to know what heaven sounds like.

Remus had never felt like yours was more than a title until he met you. He was yours, yours to love, yours to break, yours to throw away. He belonged to you, and that was the greatest badge of honour any man could wear. He wanted you to touch him, make your mark upon him until it burnt, and he’d thank you for branding him with the etch of your thumbprint.

You were perfect; in every sense of the word. He’d learn every tongue till he was fluent in showing you how utterly divine you were. The dark lines on your thighs didn’t bother him nearly as much as they did you, and neither did the scars. He cursed himself reverently for his own; but never yours. Every mark on your being was a part of you, every inch of your skin a holy grail he’d read without complaint.

He’d worship you if you’d let him. Let his hands find their haven in every nook and crevice of your perfect body, whisper feverish words of cadence and cruelty till you screamed his name. You allowed him to touch you; and that was enough for now.

As he feels you now, mindlessly splaying his hands on your bare back, your eyes flutter open. Remus doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to the jerk of his heart stopping when you look at him like that. You reach for him with a smile even in half-lidded consciousness; he goes without protest because it’s you.

He knew forever wasn’t a word meant for lovers. But for now, he can hold you in his arms and hear your heartbeat when you pull him in. You'll let him tell you he loves you till the grave, and that is compensation enough.

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞 —send me a shy!reader request for any character (with a plot) and I'll write a >1k drabble

sirius/james introducing shy!reader to remus. and shes just like quiet and in awe, but remus loves it.

luveline's 40k party ☆ tysm for requesting! remus x shy fem!reader

James is used to your personality after months of being your lecture neighbour, unperturbed by your quiet. "It's going to be fun," he promises, handing you a cold glass of cranberry vodka. "They're nice, okay? I won't let anyone irritate you." 

He's hosting a party and had the generosity to invite you round early. He's easing you in, so to speak. It took him two weeks of steady Hellos for you to work up the courage to say Hi back, another two weeks for small talk, a month before you felt comfortable speaking to him first. If you're that shy, a party is basically torture.

"It's not about irritating me," you say. 

"I know, I'm messing." James lists his head to the left. A second later, there's a knock at the door. "Aha. Wait here, shortcake, there's someone I want you to meet." 

"James," you say after him, wet from your glass leaking down to your sleeve, "what?" 

"I asked him to come early and say hello! He's quiet and handsome and you'll love him, just don't stare at his nose." 

What's wrong with his nose? you think, alarmed. 

James opens the door. Two new voices emerge, one scratchy and a little high, the other smoother. "I need to pee so bad," the scratchy one declares, followed by bounding footsteps up the stairs. 

"You alright?" the smoother asks.

You think there's patting, a hug, "I'm brilliant! You smell really nice, Remus, like a garden." 

"Lovely."

"In a good way! Come and meet my Y/N, you remember I told you about her nice gel pens?" 

James leads the smooth-voiced Remus into the living room. You hurriedly put down your drink and stand, wiping your wet hands in your shirt. You cringe at the darkening fabric but hide your grimace as they stop in front of you. 

"Remus, Y/N. Y/N, Remus," James introduces you both. 

Remus has a scar across his nose that seems cruelly cut. There's another beside it that starts in his upper lip, both of which end in his eyebrow. You know how self-conscious it feels to be looked at, so you manage to smile and offer your hand without too much of it. He's handsome with his scars, a nice nose with a ridge and brown eyes the colour of caramelised sugar.

"Hello," Remus says, shaking your hand. His is big enough to make yours feel small. 

"I invited her early because she's more fun than the rest of our lot," James says, throwing himself down on the sofa and kicking his legs out on the coffee table. 

Remus taps your elbow very gently as if to usher you to sit and sits down beside you, enough space to be casual but too little to stop the rampant nerves that blossom in your stomach. 

Remus asks about your life. What you're studying, where you're from, if James is being nice to you. While James is touchy in the rough older brother way, scrunching your shoulder and shaking you when you're not expecting it. Remus is touchy in a different way, you find, almost as if he doesn't know he's doing it. His shoe bumps your shoe, his hand falls down between his outer thigh and your own, his knuckles touching your jeans very lightly. He spins in his seat to talk to you. 

You don't notice other people arriving, nor the scratchy-voiced friends return. All you can do is look up at Remus with wide eyes. Your nerves meld to something warmer. 

"And what do you do?" you ask him. 

He smiles like you've wandered into a secret. "I'm trying to write a book." 

"He's being a bit much," Sirius says to James, the two now loitering in the doorway with matching beers. You and Remus chatter on, unaware of their running commentary.

"It's a very strong reaction. I knew she'd like him, but I didn't think she'd like him like that." James takes a sip of his drink. Remus asks you a quiet question. You duck your head, playing with your sleeves, and Remus, the bastard, ducks his head to follow your gaze, smiling at you all the while. 

James almost chokes, pointing his bottle toward you both as though Sirius isn't already looking. "He's eating it up. I forgot how flirty he is."

"She'll be nice to him, won't she?" Sirius asks, like it's a done deal. To be fair, Remus seems enthralled with you. 

"Definitely. She's very nice. Oh, look, that's sick, she's gonna pass out." James winces as Remus takes your arm into his hand. 

Remus wouldn't do anything cruel, but James wasn't joking when he told Remus that you were exceedingly, achingly shy. He's about to step in and rescue you, but you turn into Remus' touch and pull your leg up on the sofa to make yourself comfortable. Your voice is animated, if quieter than the average person's.

"Woah," James says, beaming.  

Remus flirts almost as a defence, like he wants to get the rejection over and done with so he can move on. You've yet to reject; you're looking up at him in moderate awe, your lips quirked into an easy smile. 

"Boo!" James calls, flicking his bottle cap at Remus, who brushes it away. "Took me three weeks to get a smile out of her," he mutters. "What a dick." 

please more shy!reader with rockstar remus i’m foaming at the mouth

big scary rockstar gone soft tells u off for neglecting yourself ♡ shy!fem!reader | 1k words

Being a roadie is interesting.

Though roadie can feel generous – you're not a tech, you don't move things, but you're basically the unofficial errand girl. You learn to navigate cities you've never been to before and to mend things in a pinch. You always know where everything is, all the time. If a techie can't find something, they come to you. 

You don't learn to talk to people. A year on the road and everybody knows now to just tell you what they need without any small talk. Everybody except Remus. 

"Dove," he says as soon as he sees you, an empty room between you, "how are you? You look tired." 

You set the guitar strap in your hand onto the desk. The room is a riot of equipment, coats, rucksacks and drinks and food and ashtrays, and you suppose you fit in well – you're a mess, simply put. Wearing the shirt you'd slept in and jeans with a bleach stain up the side, your hair rumpled and pulled back from your face. Of course he'd come to find you now. 

"I'm okay," you say. 

Remus weaves through mess to sit on the table opposite you, legs so long they don't leave the ground. "Good. Are you sleeping okay?" 

You shake your head and hold up Sirius guitar strap. "It's… finicky."

Remus narrows his eyes. "I told him to throw it away." 

You nod with a needle held between your lips for a second while you snip a new thread. "He says it's lucky," you murmur, taking the needle back into your hand. 

"It's disgusting. You don't have to do that."

"Show's in an hour." 

"I know. You look like you haven't slept since the last one." 

You haven't. You don't feel very happy that he's noticed it, though, and you frown. 

"Is there something you wanted, Remus?" you ask with as little emotion as possible. Silly to be upset. Sillier to show it. 

"To see you." 

You stab yourself in the hand with your needle and gasp. "Shit." 

Remus jumps down from the table and is quick at your side. A fat bead of blood wells and trickles down your finger, further soiling the guitar strap in your lap. 

Your eyes go wide at getting blood on Sirius' things and Remus takes it for something else. 

"Hey, it's okay. Let me see," Remus says softly. 

It's nothing. A pinprick. Remus takes your hand in his, his palms and fingers calloused from years of playing bass. Still, his touch is achingly gentle. 

"It's nothing," you say sheepishly. 

He hums like he doesn't agree but lets your hand go, sitting on the arm of your big padded chair. He's taller than you to begin with and this new height adds to how intimidating he can be. 

Then, like sun peeking through low clouds, the suggestion of a smile. A reluctant one, for sure.

"You have to take care of yourself," he says, a short fall from stern. 

"I do." 

"No, listen. I'm not kidding around. You need to sleep. You need to rest."

You swallow around a lump in your throat and shrug. "This is my job. I'm on shift right now, so if someone wants me to-" 

"Sure, but what about this morning? I know you don't start until two. If you can honestly tell me you were having time to yourself before two, then I'll leave you alone." 

You can't honestly tell him that. 

Remus works the guitar strap out of your hand and moves it to the end of the desk where you can't reach, looking down at you all homespun and handsome, eyes edged in the tiniest hints of dark stage makeup, his hair tousled and perfect. There's a bemused edge to his telling off that you don't miss. 

"Sleep deprivation will make you sick. And then who am I gonna have to talk to before the shows? James?" 

"Mean," you say. 

"He can handle it." 

Remus takes your wrist into his hand and ducks down so you're forced to look at his face. His smell drifts towards you, woodsmoke and something fresh, something a little odd, like parsley, coriander. You take a very deep breath. 

"I need you to be good," he says. 

Your eyes go wide. 

"Are you good?" he asks. 

You realise he isn't saying good as in well-behaved, but good as in healthy. The heat is already there, your cheeks flushed, embarrassed to have assumed the wrong meaning. Your pulse jackhammers under your skin. 

"I'm fine," you whisper. 

He tilts his head, hair falling across his forehead. "We can do better than fine." 

When did we become a we? you ask yourself. 

He massages your wrist. You gaze up at his expression hoping it might reveal the right answer, what you're supposed to say; he's impassive and you're speechless. 

Remus doesn't need any words, apparently. He sidles closer on the chair and tugs your arm slowly over his thigh until your head is pressed to his ribcage. His thumb pushes against your palm, his fingers finally thread through yours. 

Maybe you don't need to say anything, either. You close your eyes and let yourself relax against his warm torso. A thousand sounds echo outside of the room – metal scratching and dragging and last minute sound checks. It all fades to white noise as Remus drops the side of his head against your crown. 

"Can't believe he had you fixing that thing. It's disgusting," he murmurs. 

"It's 'vintage,'" you quote. 

"Even if it were, it's a biohazard." 

You flex your fingers where they rest between his. "And I was just touching it. You're infected," you whisper teasingly, lethargy loosening your tongue. 

Remus laughs a startled laugh and squeezes your hand tighter. "I can deal with that." 

Do I make you nervous?

Remus Lupin x fem!Reader

I was over at my boyfriend, Remus' house, in hopes of spending some time with him since he's been busy with school work. But it's been a couple of hours and he still hasn't given me any attention. "Remmy," I said, trying to get him to look up from what he was reading.

"Remus." I said again, after he ignored me the first time.

"Yes, love?" He asked, spinning around in his chair.

"Hi," I said, now realizing I had no idea what to say.

"Is that all?" he questioned, a confused expression painted on his face.

"Can you pay attention to me. Pretty please?" I implored him, giving him my best puppy dog look.

"Come here darling," he said, stretching his arms out for me.

I got up from his bed, walking over towards him, taking a seat on his lap as his arms wrapped around me. He spun back around, resting his chin on my shoulder so he could continue to read his paper. "Remmy." I whined, crossing my arms.

"I'm sorry love, but I have to finish this, then I'm all yours, I promise."

I let out a sigh, before getting off his lap and walking over to his bookshelf, grabbing the first book I saw and going back to his bed.

An hour has passed, and my body was sprawled out across his bed, the duvet was soft against my skin as I struggled to stay focused on the book. Since my eyes kept adverting back to Remus, who was still sitting at his desk working on a English paper. I let the book fall shut with a frustrated sigh, before tossing it aside and crawling under the duvet, deciding to just go to sleep since I was tired of waiting for him.

A little while later, I woke up to the sound of thunder, groaning in annoyance as I rubbed my face, trying to get my eyes to focus, before looking at the wrist watch, wondering how long I had been sleeping for. I let out a sigh at the fact that it had only been an hour. I sat up, about to yell at Remus again, when I realized that his desk was empty. Growing anxious, I looked around the room once before slumping down into the pillows, pulling the duvet up to my chin.

I attempted to fall back asleep, since it was pretty obvious he wasn't going to give me any attention today. I was half asleep when my eyes shot open, startled by the weight of somebody on top of me. I looked up to be met eye to eye with Remus. He was hovering over me, his arms propping himself up so that he wouldn't completely crush me. "morning babe," he said, chuckling a little at my startled expression.

I looked away, not wanting to see his face since I wanted to be mad at him for ignoring me earlier. "Come on love, look at me," He whined, putting his fingers under my chin, and forcing me to look up at him.

"pretty please," he asked with a pout. When I shifted my eyes away from his, he began kissing my neck and collarbone, trying to get me to give him attention. I tried to hold back a moan as he began to suck and bite down on my neck. "Rem," I said, putting one hand on the back of his head, pushing him more into me.

After a while, he brought his head up from my neck, grabbing my chin once again, his eyes hungrily adverting from my lips to my eyes, as he bit down on his bottom lip. I swallowed on nothing, trying my absolute hardest not to look in his eyes.

He brought his mouth down to my ear, "Do I make you nervous?" He whispered, trying not to laugh. 

"Maybe," I breathed out, feeling my face heat up.

He smiled proudly as he rolled over to my side, getting under the covers as well. "Good," he said, pulling me into his chest, as he closed his eyes, wanting nothing more than to cuddle and to go to sleep.

Like a renaissance painting

{You admire Remus whilst he paints}

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You study the slight curve of Remus’ back as he sits in front of the small canvas, he’s shirtless because apparently he ‘works better than way’ although you’re certainly not complaining at the beautiful sight, the way small little beauty marks litter across his skin like constellations or how he has this one specific scar that stretches up the expanse of his spine that you love to trace with nimble fingers.

You watch his muscles move as he stretches, sitting up and rolling his shoulders, before reaching over to a small cup of discolored water swishing his paintbrush around then gently dipping it back into the blue paint, and he methodically moves the paintbrush across the canvas, you can’t see what he’s painting from where your laying on his bed but you just know it’s a masterpiece.

A sudden gust of wind pushes itself through the window and into his room, his thin curtains waving with the movement, “Are you getting cold dove?” He asks turning around to admire you, and you shake your head with a small ‘no’ as he gently smiles at you.

“If you get cold let me know I’ll close the window, there’s also a jumper over there, okay?” He says nodding over to where a clean pile of clothes sits neatly on his wooden dresser.

“Yeah”

He goes back to whatever he’s painting, the sun is setting, and an orangey light casts through his room, dusting against his skin, it’s a warm glow that makes him seem ethereal. Not even a full minute passes and he’s already stretching again shoulders moving in circles, you can tell he’s getting restless.

He sighs, “Alright, that’s me done,” he says standing up, he takes a seat next to where you’re laying, looking down at you with the softest eyes, and his hand gently cups your warm cheek, “How’s your head dove?” He asks, thumb smoothing over the skin.

“Better than yesterday, think your ‘magic tea’ helped” you hum as he nods with relief, he hates seeing you in pain.

“That’s good” he smiles, your hand reaching up to thread your fingers through his unkempt hair, admiring his face, and he goes all bashful under your loving gaze, “I love you” he whispers, leaning down to where your laying pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“I love you too” you smile, your chest blooming with devotion as your thumb grazes against the scar that adorns his cheek, “You’ve got paint on your face” you giggle noticing the smudge of blue that smears across his chin.

He doesn’t say anything, he’s just studying you with his lovesick eyes, so full of such care and adoration that it makes you feel giddy, butterflies flutter around in your belly as you watch his eyes flicker down to your lips.

And before you can reply with some snarky comment he’s peppering kisses all over your face, trailing off to your jaw and then shoulders, and you burst out in a fit of giggles at the sudden ticklish sensation.

“You’re so pretty, so gorgeous— just like a renaissance painting” he chuckles as you let out a groan, pushing at his shoulders as you try and break free of his hold, “M’telling the truth, you’re so lovely” he whispers, lips grazing against your jaw as he nibbles at the sensitive skin.

“Yeah yeah alright, the paint fumes are getting to your head” you chuckle and he rolls his eyes playfully laying his body weight down on you with a huff, and you cave in relishing in his warmth as your fingers tail against the scar that stretches up his spine.

“Such a sap” you sigh, looking over at the painting that he was working on, it’s not finished yet but you already know what it is, it’s you, captured by surprise in a candid Polaroid he’d taken a couple of days ago.

Remus looks up at you through his eyelashes from where his head is laying against your chest, “Do you like it?” He asks watching as you study his unfinished artwork, and he sees the joy that gleams through your eyes.

“Yes, you’ve made me look much more pret—“ he cuts you off as his hand clasps over your mouth.

“I didn’t do anything, that’s all you dove” he whispers removing his hand before pressing a loving kiss and you relish in the warmth of his lips against yours, completely heavenly.

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☾⋆AN/ hope you enjoyed my lovelies! <3

Burnt toast

{Remus finds you eating a midnight snack}

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You’ve never laughed so hard in your life, the look on Remus’ face as he watches you use the same knife for the butter and jam for your very much burnt toast, the look he gives you as if you had just committed a crime right in front of him.

“Please tell me you haven’t been doing that the whole time we’ve been together” He deadpans as you laugh so hard tears blur your sight, he shakes his head softly taking the jam jar from your hands and examining the toast crumbs and butter that contaminate the sweet spread.

“You should be locked away for this” It's the seriousness in his voice that makes you laugh harder, you watch through joyful tears as he takes a teaspoon out of the cutlery drawer and starts to pick out the crumbs and butter pieces from the jar.

“You’re being ridiculous Remus,” You say through a fit of giggles watching as he picks the butter up and puts them back in the fridge, “What do you expect me to do?—- use the same knife?” You giggle as he turns back in shock as if you just asked him the most stupidest question ever.

“Yes I do, it’s cross-contamination” He can’t help but chuckle a little when you wipe the tears from your eyes still laughing, “Alright breathe lovely” he chuckles walking over to you.

“What you even doing up this time of night?” He asks looking over at the clock that read five am in bold red writing.

“Was hungry” you say regaining your composture before taking a bite from the toast, Remus’ arms wrap around your body as he stands behind you, and he presses gentle kisses against your shoulder.

“Well hurry up, it’s fucking freezing out here” he whispers resting his head on the juncture of your neck and shoulder, while you continue to eat your toast. He leans closer to you trying to steal your body warmth as the cold tiles of the kitchen sends a shiver up his spine.

“Wanna bite?” You ask, bringing the toast to his lips and he’s quick to move his head.

He looks at the brunt toast in disgust, shaking his head, “No I don’t” he chuckles, “How have you managed to burn it so bad?” he asks, face cringing a little as he watches you take another bite.

“It tastes fine,” you say, and he’s not quite sure if you’re trying to convince him or yourself.

“Yeah, I’ll take your word for that dove” He smiles, his head resting against your shoulder, the ends of his hair tickling your skin as he presses kisses against your jaw and his hands dip underneath your jumper settling against the warmth of your belly.

“Come on let’s go back to bed,” you say as he nods against you, following you back to the bedroom, and he’s quick to search for your warmth again underneath the covers, holding you close to him as you both drift off back to sleep.

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hi!! could i request touch starved remus lupin? loved your sirius one!!! xx

-Remus Lupin x Reader

{Remus doesn’t want to seem clingy, he just loves your touch}

Thank you! And of course you can lovely, Enjoy! 💕💕

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Remus chews on the inside of his cheek as you tidy up the kitchen, you’ve been busy all day whether it’s work, studying or chores there was always something that had your attention, anything but him.

It’s ridiculous he thinks, you’re both adults with adult problems and yet here he is sulking because he feels pushed to the side. He blames it partly on the long week he’s had, nothing seemed to be going right and all he wants is to be wrapped up in your warm love and to forget about everything.

However he doesn’t want to come across as clingy, he cringes as the thought crosses his mind, because what if you get sick of it? Sick of him? It’s a thought that festers from some deep-rooted insecurity and he tries his best to talk himself out of thinking that way, but that’s easier said than done especially when those thoughts are at the forefront of his mind.

You smile over at him, the sweetest smile he’s ever seen and there’s an odd sense of guilt that builds up in his chest. He feels awful for moping about all day and he knows he hasn’t been the best of company.

He smiles back at you, although it’s strained it’s still a smile. “Sorry Remmy” you sigh, walking into the living room. He’s sitting on your couch, a throw blanket draped over his knees as he fiddles with the fabric. “But, I’m all done now” You look over at him, your smile dropping as he lets out a shaky sigh, he looks almost frozen as if he wants something but he’s holding back.

Your hand rests against his arm, and he feels the warmth of your palm seeping through his jumper. “Hey, did something happen at work?” You ask, your hand soothing his upper arm, and he thinks he might just start crying because you’re still so caring despite his sour mood.

“No dove, work was fine” he sighs glancing over at you, “I just missed you is all” Your heart clenches in your chest as he whispers the words, his tone so quiet that you almost miss it.

“But I’m right here,” you tell him, slightly confused about where this was coming from.

Then it hits you all at once, as you notice how tears collect in his eyes. You pull him towards you, his arms wrap around you immediately and his hands settle against your back, “It’s been a really long week” he mumbles against your shoulder, breathing you in. You turn your head to press a kiss on his cheek.

Remus pulls back slightly, still close enough that he can feel your body heat radiating against him and he rests his forehead against yours, the ends of his hair tickling your skin, “I’m yours for the entire weekend. No work, no studying, just me and you” you tell him, watching as he smiles widely, bumping his nose against yours.

Your hands cup either side of his face and he sighs softly at the warmth of your palms against his skin. He melts at the way your thumb grazes against the small scar just under his eye, he closes them as he leans into your touch.

“Sounds like a great plan lovely,” he says, his hands resting against your hips as he tugs you closer to him.

His lips press against yours as he gives you little pecks that turn into a slow and gentle kiss, “I love you” you mumble against him, the words have him smiling like a fool and he doesn’t miss the way you let out a breathy giggle.

“Say it again?” He asks dropping a kiss to your jaw.

“I love you Remus” you smile, and he reckons you might just give him heart failure as you play with his hair. He goes completely giddy with love and he can’t quite believe that it’s him you’re talking to.

“I love you too,” he says in between kisses as he litters your face with them, the feeling has you reeling with joy and you both are overtaken with laughter, a sound that has both of your hearts full of sickly love.

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