Theseverefangirl - Really Just Trying To Be Relatable - Tumblr Blog

People being like "why is Ken just Ken" and thinking it's a gimmick for girl bossing Barbie clearly never watched Barbie Life in the Dream House because if they had they'd know that Ken is a very smart and capable guy but chooses to dedicate his life to Barbie because he loves her. He literally has a sixth sense for if Barbie is unhappy or needs something and will drop everything to help/cheer her up. Ken chooses not to pursue careers like Barbie does because it would interrupt his Barbie time. Ken is a self imposed trophy husband and I won't let people question his decision!

༻¨*:· 𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐁𝐋𝐄 ·:*¨༺

༻¨*:· summary ·:*¨༺ remus lupin is nothing but trouble.

༻¨*:· notes ·:*¨༺ 𖦹 fluff 𖦹 remus being an idiot 𖦹 remus saying thanks after a kiss 𖦹 angst for a millisecond 𖦹 hurt/comfort. kinda ? 𖦹 i did not proofread this⎝(ˊᗜˋ)⎠

༻¨*:· word count ·:*¨༺ 𖦹 610

You weren't sure why everyone thought Remus Lupin was a saint. You just couldn't see it. And part of the reason why could be because he's staring at you with a smirk that can only mean trouble. That's what Remus Lupin is—trouble.

You've seen girls cry over the boy more times than you care to count, and he's here, leaning over you with hooded eyes. His pupils are blown, and you can't tell if it's because he's looking at you or because he's high—you hate it. He looks like he's about to kiss you, and you're about to let him because, fuck, is he pretty. He's pretty and intelligent, and he's, oh, so lovely. "But he's trouble," You try to remind yourself as he leans in. You can't seem to find it in yourself to care as your eyes flutter closed, mouth parting in desperation for his lips on yours.

He's hoping your lip gloss prevents you from feeling his chapped lips; it doesn't. It doesn't matter. You lean into his embrace, kissing him like it's the last time you'll feel a pair of lips on yours.

You're dizzy when you finally part. Your lovesick eyes are staring into his, expecting him to say something. He doesn't, and your stomach twists while your heart cracks. But you refuse to be another girl who cries over Remus Lupin—sarcastic, dreamy Remus Lupin. 

"Nothing to say?" He can barely hear your voice over the music.

"Thanks for the kiss." He offers; it's not enough. Who the hell says, thanks for the kiss?

"That's all?" Your tone is close to begging. You're eager for him to confess his secret undying love for you. It doesn't come.

Trouble.

You remember one of your friends saying: "But he was a prefect! How can he be trouble?"

And you weren't sure how to answer because Remus Lupin got good grades, and teachers favored him. That didn't mean he wasn't trouble. He pulled pranks and smoked, and he was always kissing someone. That screams trouble, at least it does to you. But you weren't Jennifer, and she wasn't you. All she saw was a boy who read and drank tea. She didn't notice the boy who smirked before throwing a crumpled-up note at you or the boy who offered you tea but put it in one of those stupid cups that bites your nose. And you thought you were going crazy because nobody else seemed to look at him the way you did.

Nobody saw the trouble.

"Tea for the lady?" Remus was at your flat. He dropped by unannounced, as he so often did.

"Remus, I swear to God," You huffed and crossed your arms, "If you put tea in one of those stupid cups, I will kill you."

He laughed, "And so she's all the wiser."

"You speak in riddles."

"So, about our kiss the other night," He sat down, tea in both hands.

You secretly hoped he would bring it up, "What about it?"

"Sorry for the way I reacted. It was kind of a spur-of-the-moment thing," He dragged his hand over his face, "I've always wanted to kiss you. And then you let me, and I kind of..." He swallowed, "Malfunctioned."

You nearly spit out your tea, "You've always wanted to kiss me?"

"Yeah," He says it like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"Well, why didn't you?"

"'Cos, I was scared. Scared you'd reject me and tell me off for being a creep. But then you stared at me with those stupid eyes, and I couldn't not kiss you."

"You're nothing but trouble, Remus Lupin."

"But, darling, that's why you love me."

thank you for reading, lovely <3

mutuals <333 @sw34terw34ther @forourmoons @evergreenlover @maddipoof @ell0ra-br3kk3r @esperisdrunkinwonderland @doyouknowwhoyouare13 @goodoldfashionedluvergirl @zvdvdlvr @vampieteeth @bellathethirstybitch @basicallyjustmuggleremuslupin @queerpumpkinnn @woahlifehitsyahuh @reysdriver @youre-so-lovely @onmyknees4lily

The guaranteed way to get to sleep

reader having a hard time sleeping and spencer noticing that and that she is touch starved so he lets them cuddle and she finally sleeps and just fluff <3 + reader having a hard time sleeping (either insomnia or just regular trouble sleeping) and spencer realizing that they’re touch starved and he lets them sleep with him and they finally sleep?

a/n: i’m not sure if this was the same anon, but either way thank you for this request🤍

Summary: Spencer is the only one who can recognize the signs of needing someone in the new agent

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (Fluff)

Content Warning: tiny implied mention of Maeve | touch starved reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Masterlist Navigation

There were many things stressful about working at the BAU. Mostly the serial murder, but the effect of seeing what they saw each day had really started getting to Y/n a few months in.

For weeks, she’d been struggling to sleep, waking up with the same recurring nightmares and haunting visions. It had gotten so bad she had become known as the superlative of coffee addicts- a title that was hard to take from Spencer-

For as long as the nightmares had been going on, Y/n had been keeping her feelings bottled up, not telling anyone what was going on in her mind in case they saw it as a sign of weakness. The unit had been her dream since she was first in the academy. It had taken 5 years to get there, and she wasn’t about to have anyone thinking she wasn’t cut out for it.

It was incurable, and she found herself awake on the jet in the middle of the night journey. It was only three of them, coming back from San Diego where she’d gone along on a prison consult with JJ and Spencer.

Keep reading

ken is just ken.

“It always shocked me when I realized that I wasn’t the only person in the world who thought and felt such strange and awful things.”

— John Green

An Out of The Ordinary Meeting

Summary: Derek sets Spencer up with a friend of his… an ex-girlfriend, who also knows another member of the BAU personally

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (fluff)

Content Warning: couple of suggestive comments

Word Count: 2.5k

Masterlist | Navigation

Since Spencer confided in Elle about his struggles to get a date, she has been a little worried about him. After three years, he has roots in DC and is an eligible candidate for a girlfriend. Even if he’s not saying anything, she can tell he wishes he had someone, someone to talk to and spend time with.

So, like any good friend, she hates a plan with someone with a lot of dating experience. “We need to get Reid a girlfriend.” She tells Morgan.

“What, he can’t do it himself?” Morgan asks.

Elle glares at him but answers honestly. “No, I don’t think he can.”

“Exactly.” He says. “How could I possibly help him? You’ve got to admit he’s awkward with girls.” She nods in agreement. She had seen it before. Even if he wasn’t interested in dating them, he couldn’t talk to them. “He’s uncoachable.”

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Here is a little comic I made about some thoughts I’ve been having recently. I don’t ID as transmasc, and I have noticed that since I’m nonbinary and AFAB, some people in queer circles (online and irl) label me as transmasc! This has increased since I started T. Much love to my transmasc siblings, but I don’t identify with that term, and it misgenders me.

I figured if there’s not a lot of acknowledgement or discussion about non-transmasc and non-transfem people who physically transition, I can make some myself :)

when people act like Large Beverages are the thing thats wrong with america as if thats not the only thing keeping me from driving off a cliff... ohhhh Those greedy americans slonking away at their Large Beverages. we're literally all working in the hamburger mine to afford rock and roll disc . Beverage is all we have

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐑𝐨𝐜𝐤 — 𝐑𝐞𝐦𝐮𝐬 𝐋𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐧

summary — you and remus lupin have become really good at stealing each other away from parties.

or but if you're too drunk to drive and the music is right, she might let you stay but just for the night....she might want a kiss before the end of this song.

warnings/tags — fem!afab!reader, she/her pronouns, modern!au, friends to lovers, absolute idiots in love, mutual pining, oblivious!reader, oblivious!remus, drunk!reader, drunk!remus, alcohol consumption

note — this is inspired by lovers rock by tv girl!!! i think this is the longest thing i've ever written. I do very much like it as of right now. that'll probably change in a week.

word count — 12.4k

“Thank Godric, you’re here,” Mary groans from her position on the front porch, Marlene leaning into her side. Both are clearly enjoying a cigarette away from the din of the party. You can tell what type of night it’s going to be already. Not that you’ve arrived two hours late anyway.

“I’ve never seen you so happy to see me, Mary,” you giggle, crossing the threshold of Sirius’s front lawn, careful not to trip on his collection of stolen garden gnomes.

“I’m always happy to see you, lovely.” She extends her hand, the cigarette between her lovely red nails on offer. 

“You know who’s going to be even happier?” Marlene coughs, as you take the smoke thankfully, taking a few calming puffs. 

You pretend like you have any idea who she’s referring to, “Jamie? Haven’t seen him in a while. Miss that boy,” you laugh, voice strained through the thick smoke you exhale. 

“No, you idiot.” Mary pipes up and you hand the smoke back, “Remus. He hasn’t shut up about you all night.”

“That’s if he’s sober enough to even notice you’re here,” Marlene laughs and so does Mary. You smile, small enough to not show how happy you actually are that you get to see him. It’s been too long. 

“He’s drinking?” 

“Absolutely hammered. We were hoping you’d get here earlier so he wouldn’t drink too much. Please go look after him.” Mary throws her arm around Marlene and she snuggles in closer. They both look content enough to fall asleep right there in the cool summer breeze. 

“I’m sure he’s doing okay.” 

“I’m sure he will be when you get inside.” 

You move to toe your shoes off at the front mat, kicking them away so they’re not a tripping hazard. 

“When has Sirius ever done that at your house, Y/N?” Mary laughs, looking down at your socked feet

“Oh, no. This is for me. Don’t want to get my shoes dirty.” You laugh when you grab the handle of the flyscreen, swinging the door open. 

The girls’ laughter becomes a distant murmur when you enter the kitchen, met with mostly everyone sitting around the dining table. A deal of cards in everyone’s hands, and piles of coins and sweets sat in the middle. 

James and Lily laughing and glowing under the downcast of the orange lighting, appearing to seemingly be winning. Sirius and Frank having their own side bets, throwing coins around before both calling tails. Then, there's Remus. You try to ignore the hitch in your breath when your eyes land on the sandy-haired boy.

He really does look drunk, eyes droopy but still bright when he hiccups a laugh at something James says. A quiet, airy chuckle that has his mouth creasing and eyelashes kissing his cheeks. A smile so pretty, you have to fight your own.

His head is propped up on the table by an elbow that looks like it’s about to slip off the edge, so you sneak up behind him and place your hand against his arm to stop him from falling face-first into the wood.

He looks up at you, a little startled for a second, and you can see the moment it clicks in his head when he realises who he’s looking at. He smiles, all surprised but content and you melt. The last time you had seen him was only for the third time ever at another one of Sirius’s parties. You hate to admit that the only thing you look forward to now is when you receive an invite from your workmate and you have another excuse to see his lanky best friend.

“Y/N! When did you get here?” Sirius chants, flicking his last remaining coin at Frank. He shoots him a well-deserved glare.

“About thirty seconds ago,” you smile.

Sirius looks down at your socked feet and frowns, “You took your shoes off again. How many times do I have to tell you, you don’t have to do that.”

You roll your eyes, “You’re gross, Sirius.”

Remus looks down too, the top of his head pressing into your side, a crush of his curls tickling the bare skin of your arm and you almost shiver. “Cool socks.” Is the first thing he says to you. You giggle.

They’re a dark cornflower shade, moons scattered across the material at random. They crease when you wriggle your toes, “Thanks. Got them from mum for my birthday.”

“She has good taste.” He moves off of you, slouching down in his chair until his knees are pressing Lily’s legs. 

His head lolls backwards, neck bared under the warm light. You think you feel dizzier than he does. Even when he squeezes his eyes shut. 

“What have you done to him?” you laugh, hand flat against his forehead to brush away his loose hair. He keens, sighing deeply under a hiccup. 

“He’s very awful at poker,” James laughs, flicking a pastille across the table. You look at his high pile, and then Sirius and Franks’ which are almost of equal height. Then you look in front of Remus, the table almost bare. You laugh. 

“We like to play a little differently,” Franks states over the rim of his bottle. 

“Basically, you take a shot every time you lose,” James says, sober as ever. You think maybe he hasn’t lost yet. 

“And Remus has lost every hand,” Sirius adds to the chime of details. 

“Have not!” Remus finally pipes up, finger pointed at James instead of Sirius, too distracted staring at the ceiling. “Frank lost the first.” 

“Anyways, Moons. You just lost and I think you owe us another.” 

Remus groans, but sits up to reach for the bottle of Sambuca sitting in the middle of the table. You gently swat his hand and push him back into his chair. 

“I think you’ve had enough,” you say, turning to place the bottle on the kitchen bench, along with the empty bottles. 

“C’mon, one more,” Remus giggles, making hands for the bottle in the air. A child, you think. 

“Yeah, Y/N! One more!” Sirius agrees, smiling boyishly. 

“You’ll make yourself sick,” you chide with a small frown. Remus slumps against you, much defeated. He might fall asleep on you if you stand there any longer. You poke his cheek where it’s pressed into your clothes. 

“He already is sick.” Sirius is smug when he speaks and you fret about what else he’s about to say, “Sick in love.” 

You laugh. Could’ve been worse. But it still has your heart skipping in your chest. You really do hope Remus shares the feelings you hold for him. But then again, Remus is drunk and Sirius, is well, he’s Sirius. Despite the name, he hardly ever is. 

“Boo. Awful.” You frown in faux offence, ignoring him when he winks at you. Sickening, really. 

You lean down so your mouth is in line with Remus’s ear, “You wanna go lay down?” You realise you’re in quite a predicament. Coming over to parties to see Sirius’s best friend. Looking after him when he’s drunk. You’d hoped he would do the same. 

“Please, no sex in my house,” Sirius states, standing to grab another drink. James guffaws. 

You roll your eyes, “He’s drunk.”

“So, you do want to have sex with him?” he adds. 

You almost choke on your tongue, “No, it’s just. He- Stop it.” You have to stop yourself from saying something wrong. It wasn’t a lie, you did want to. But you wanted much more than that. 

“Leave her alone,” Remus chides, leaning back off your stomach. “You’ll scare her off and I’ll never see her again,” 

He was right, his friends did intimidate you. But you’d hoped it would take more than not yet warming up to them to get you to never see Remus again. 

Remus stands and you’re surprised he doesn’t stumble when he takes your hand to lead you away from the table and out into the lounge room. You poke your tongue out over your shoulder when you hear James make some sort of crude comment to Frank. Lily smiles warmly at you as an apology. 

He sits down with all the gracefulness of a baby elephant and you have to bite back a laugh. He looks up at you, pretty eyes all droopy and a lopsided smile, and you feel like you’ll never come back from these feelings ever. 

Before you can overly admire him for too long, he’s patting the space next to him with a floppy hand. “C’mon.” 

You oblige probably too willingly, flopping yourself down next to him with a small oomph, your thigh pressing into his. He shuffles down the lounge to rest his head atop your shoulder, neck craned a little to reach it. You can’t find it in yourself to mind. His face is warm and it presses into your collarbone that’s peeking from out the top of your shirt. His light stubble tickles your skin and it’s weirdly soothing. God, you know you’re in deep. 

“You smell good.” 

You breathe in subconsciously, “You do, too.” 

Under the strong scent of stale beer and sambuca, you can think you can discern a hint of his cologne. Woody and something like cinnamon. Mixed in with the light scent of his laundry detergent, like fresh linen and lavender. He's dizzying. 

“I smell like beer,” he groans, hand finding its way between both of your thighs, your skirt tangled in his fingers. 

“You smell nice,” you laugh. 

You watch the doorway where James gets up to turn the dial on the vinyl player. The current song now loud enough to be heard where you’re sitting.

Humming along, you say, “I love this song.”

Remus gawps, “Me too. S’my favourite, actually.”

Remus having the exact same favourite song as you makes your head spin. “No way.”

“Yes way.” he smiles. If he were soberer, you’d gush to him over this. It’d have to wait.

He shifts his head from your shoulder and startles for a moment, eyebrows raised, “I didn’t even ask if you wanted a drink.” You get whiplash from the change of subject. 

You sigh, very amused at his intent to be nice to you, despite being half-cut, “I’m okay. I wasn’t really planning on drinking tonight.” 

He frowns, wrinkles his nose and you want to kiss it. God. “Why did you come, then?” The fact he thinks you came to get drunk and not just to see him makes you want to laugh. 

The smile you’re still trying to fight every time he speaks makes your cheeks ache, “To see Sirius.” 

He frowns even more and you think he wants to shift away from you. He roughly scratches at his face and you almost regret messing with him. 

“Sirius?” He hiccups. 

“I’m kidding.” You poke his bicep, “I came to see you.” 

There’s a silence and then Remus is breaking out into one of the biggest grins you’d ever seen. You’d have the decency in you to blame it on being drunk. Nothing else. 

“Me?” He hiccups, again. You place your hand atop his thigh and trace the thick seam of his pants. 

“Yes, you.”

His smile dials back but doesn’t fade and his face relaxes. He leans down to place his head back against your shoulder, cheek all smooshed.  

“Oh.” 

“Oh?” 

“Thank you.” he hums, hooking his elbow behind yours, completely squished against you. He thinks you must be cold in a skirt and a small T-shirt. “I like it when you’re here. You make it bearable.” 

You want to accept his compliment, but when he hiccups for the third time, you remember he’s drunk. “That’s a bit mean, Remus. Will I tell your friends you can’t bear them?” 

Remus stiffens and you stop rubbing his leg. Drunk Remus is very gullible. Sweet, but gullible all the same. 

“Stop it. You know what I mean.” He pushes further into your shoulder and you feel yourself dip down against him, head almost falling against his. You wouldn’t mind if it did, but it wouldn’t be very comfortable, you assume. 

“I don’t think I do,” you tease and Remus pinches your side, which results in a stifled yelp. 

“Don’t be cruel.” He strains.

“I would never.”

When you shiver in your spot, Remus wonders what your answer would be if he offered you his jacket. He thinks he should test his theory. 

“Are you cold?” he asks but doesn’t move his head from your shoulder.

“A little,” you yawn. Which then causes Remus to yawn. You laugh animatedly. 

“Do you,” Remus blinks slowly, eyelashes kissing his cheeks as he attempts to keep his eyes open. “do you want my jacket?” 

You’re glad Remus’ head is still propped on your shoulder lest he sees the blush creeping across your cheeks. Drunk Remus is gullible. But drunk Remus is still just as kind as he is when he’s sober. 

“Then you’ll be cold,” you reply, giving his thigh a squeeze. You crane your neck to look at him. He looks tired. 

“Better me than you.” He moves to take it off and before he can even get one arm out, you sit forward and place your hands on his chest. Fingers twisted in his cotton shirt, your turned knee pressing into his. 

“Remus, I’m okay.” You give him your most reassuring smile. Being cold is no one’s fault but your own. You don’t want to be an annoyance. 

“You sure?” 

“Positive.” 

Remus sits back, albeit begrudgingly, hands wrapped around the zipper of his jacket. The further he pushes back into the lounge, the more he looks like he’s about to fall asleep. 

“Remus?” you murmur. Voice quiet under the din of the party. Sirius is a loud drunk, his laughter roaring at something stupid James is doing. 

His head begins to dip into the edge of the cushion, headed for the arm of the chair. If he kept this up, he’d have a crick in his neck in no time. 

He hums and you pat his cheek to encourage him to sit up. It’s bemusing how quickly he can drift off. You’re very envious. Maybe it’s just the alcohol. 

“What’s up?” he murmurs in return, peeking from one eye, the other scrunched up. He’s adorable and you’re in too deep. 

“You seem tired.” You poke his face this time and he beams, all warm and dozey under the mellow light of Sirius’s living room. A line of curls falling into his eyes and the apples of his cheeks a tinge of peach. 

He hums again, much thicker than last. “M’not.” 

You hold out your hand, all five fingers spread. “How many fingers am I holding up?” 

He struggles, but pulls his hand from his lap and holds it up to yours, tangling your fingers. Palm flush against yours and much warmer in comparison. “Feels like five.” He pulls your entwined hands back down and you laugh. 

You try not to shy from his actions, pretending like it doesn’t make your heart skip, and then almost stop completely when his thumb rubs circles into the top of your hand. You can feel the warmth seeping from his into your own and your fingertips tingle. 

“Do you want to go home?” You twist so you’re completely on the edge of the lounge, hand still wrapped in his. You stop, “Or are you staying here tonight?” 

He brings his arm up - with yours still tangled - and rubs his face with the back of his hand. Dragging you up and down. You giggle at his tired actions before pouting. 

“I think.'' You can tell he’s trying to stay alert enough to hold a conversation with you.

When he wakes up in the morning he won’t remember being so tired here and will think you both had the best conversation. You’ll be okay with this. “I think Sirius was supposed to take me home, but he’s too drunk now.” 

“You’ll sleep on the couch?” You frown and he blinks. 

“I think I might have to.” He throws his head back and sighs. Strained and raspy. 

You look at the size of Sirius’s two-seater and then Remus’s stupidly long legs. It wouldn’t work, and he’d end up with either a sore back or a worse-off neck than whatever it was he was doing right now. You don’t even really think before you say, “I can walk you home.” 

Remus looks a little more alert, “You can’t sleep on this.” You prod the squeaky leather and it bounces back with absolutely no recoil. You’ll be sure to scold Sirius next time for having a horrendous couch, though enough money to buy everyone in the room ten of them. You know he won’t appreciate the exaggeration. But it’s for the sake of his friends’ backs. 

“You don’t have to do that.” He sits up properly now and tries to situate himself to look convincingly comfortable. “I’ll make do.” 

“It’s no big deal.” You shrug. “I’m walking home anyways.”

Now he’s sitting forward, his knees pushing into your leg and you almost stumble off the seat, grabbing his arm for purchase. “You just got here.” He almost frets and then coughs to hide his worry. He’s not very good at achieving a smooth, cool demeanour when half-cut. Not that he ever achieves it sober, he thinks. 

“No, but I think you need to go home and sleep.” You look out into the kitchen that’s now surprisingly quieter. Lily looks like she’s about to fall asleep, leaning on James’s shoulder, who’s trying to play a horrible game of go fish with Sirius and Frank. Absolute party animals.

“I live too far away, anyways,” he says, leaning down to tie his shoelaces. “You’ll have to walk me home and then walk back, you’ll be walking for at least an hour and a half.” Why Remus is so afraid to suggest you can stay the night at his, he doesn’t know.

You squeeze his shoulder as he struggles to loop his lace through his fingers. He decides to go for the simpler, bunny-ear option. “That’s okay. You can stay at mine. I only live ten minutes away.”

When Remus sits back up after tying his laces too tight, his face is pink.

-

Remus Lupin has never been one for sitting comfortably, ever. With long, lanky limbs, he always has his legs sprawled out and his arms thrown over something. Anything he can take up comfortably, with enough space to spread, he’ll sit willingly. 

On one hand, he’s thankful you convinced him not to sleep on Sirius’s couch. He didn’t need a repeat of New Year’s. Though, on the other hand, he could’ve made do. 

Nothing was like sitting in your bedroom. He wouldn’t say he was uncomfortable, though deep down he was a little, a pit of anxiety creeping up his chest. He felt like he had little room to move - despite you owning a double bed - because he didn’t want to look stupid. He could take up space and not notice it.  

Remus has trouble not taking in every detail he can in your room. Like your little trinket dishes filled with miscellaneous items, signet rings and seashells. The stuffed rhino toy in the middle of your pillows that you had told him - shyly at that - was named Clarence. Not before giggling at the poster of Twilight that you swore had been there since you were young. Your current read splayed open on the end of your bed, along with the stack of records in a blue milk crate in the corner, were things he promised himself he would ask you about when he wasn’t half tipsy and could hold a proper conversation. 

In his admiration, one that was making his anxiety spread into warmth that seemed to be seeping from his bones. He’s too busy pretending like he isn’t taking in every small detail one shouldn’t when they’ve only known someone for only a month, and doesn’t notice that you’ve changed. 

He looks over at you, in a pair of shorts littered with tiny daisies and a shirt that almost eats said shorts. Your hair pulled back and your face still sort of wet from where you obviously washed off the day's grime, causing the hairs around your face to curl. He doesn’t know if it’s the fading alcohol that’s causing him to hiccup even more, or if it’s seeing you all fresh and content from being at home that has his breath catching. 

Remus Lupin is still a little drunk but he is also quite clearly growing to like you even more. That doesn’t change. He thinks he's done everything backwards. Meeting you, then seeing you now but too inebriated to say something redeeming, and then seeing you in the comfort of your own home before he even gets to ask you on a date. He also thinks he wouldn’t have it any other way. 

“Remus?” Your voice is as calm as you look when you speak and he melts. 

“Hm?” He blinks, shaking his head. 

“You okay?” Warm light washes over you and paints you amber as you patter across the room, the moon socks that are still on your feet pressing into the white fabric of your rug. “You’re not feeling sick?” He thinks he should blame his daze on a fake sickness, but he doesn’t want you to worry even more, so he decides against it. 

When you press the back of your hand to his cheek, that’s only warm because he’s a little overwhelmed, not because he’s feeling poorly, he can’t find it in himself to hold your gaze. “I’m okay.” 

“I was saying I don’t think I have any clothes for you to change into.” You remind him after it felt like you were talking to a brick wall a minute earlier. 

Remus pushes his hands into the rough material of his black jeans. He doesn’t see himself sleeping in anything else. “That’s okay.” 

“You’re not going to sleep in those are you?” 

What else would he sleep in if you have no other clothes? “Uh.” 

“You wear boxers?” you grin. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I do.” He wishes he was still a little drunker so he could blame his bumbling words on the effects of downing half a bottle of sambuca. Now he’s realising that’s just how he sounds when he’s overwhelmed by you. 

“Sleep in those. I don’t mind.” 

Your confidence, and your confidence only, is how he ends up pantless and under the covers of your bed. He doesn’t feel uncomfortable at all. You have a lovely way of making him feel at ease. He thinks that’s why he likes you so much. 

You take off the last of your jewellery from the night and his breaths turn shallow when you lean across him and they clink into one of your many dishes.

You smell different than earlier in the night when your shirt tickles his arm. Like fresh face wash and night creams, and maybe even roses. He’d hate to think of what he smelt like in comparison to you. Probably still like beer, and maybe like sweat. He should’ve asked if he could’ve showered. That might’ve been too much, he’s definitely overthinking. 

“You’re very quiet,” you say into the dimness of your room. He’s lucky your bedside lamp is so muted, lest you see the goosebumps raised over his skin and how his cheeks haven’t returned to their normal colour since he crossed the threshold of your room. 

“M’thinking,” he returns, just as quiet. It feels wrong to disturb the calmness blanketing the room. 

“I can tell.” He can hear you grin, “What about?” 

He swallows and he wouldn’t be surprised if you heard it, “You.” 

You huff a small laugh and push down into the pillow behind you, “Me?” Your voice is a little strained, and not louder than before. Maybe even quieter. 

“Yeah. Thinking about the next time I’ll get to see you.” 

“You haven’t even left yet and you’re thinking ahead to the next time we’ll see each other,” you tease, getting comfortable underneath your plush quilt and sheets. Probably too much for a summer night but there’s still a chill in the air, flowing through your open window. 

“I’m just hoping I won’t be so drunk,” he admits, hating how he still actually does sound drunk. 

“Hopefully,” you smile, “But that’s okay, we can blame it on James.” 

“If only I wasn’t so shit at poker,” he laughs in a strained and animated voice, trying to hold back a yawn. 

He finally gets comfortable, hands fisting the sheets around his body and head balancing restfully against the plush of your ivory pillows. 

You can see his eyes flutter in an attempt to stay awake. You think it’s endearing but you also think he needs to sleep. “Remus,” you say, firm but caring at once. 

“Hmm?” he mumbles, eyebrows pinched. 

“You should sleep.” You push itchy locks away from his forehead and he sighs at the caring touch of your fingers. 

“Don’t wanna.” He scrunches his nose, “I think I’m finally sobering up. Wanna talk t’you.” 

You smile at his absolute urgency and think he’s adorable. Truly. “Please, sleep. We’ll talk in the morning.” 

“You’ll be here?” This, you actually laugh at. 

“Of course, Remus. You’re in my room.” 

He closes his eyes, eyelashes kissing the freckles of his cheeks and his tired, darkened skin, “M’kay.”

When you wake up in the morning, almost midday, Remus plagued by the effects of alcohol, you too content to wake whilst being next to him, you both have separate texts from Sirius. 

Your own chat log reads, aren’t U glad you came out? You don’t reply, not wanting to encourage him in any way. 

Remus’s phone, on the other hand, reads, 

uncle pads has a ring to it don’t you think? xxxx

He does in fact reply, too used to Sirius being a twat. 

Nothing happened. Ur disgusting and I hate you. 

what do U mean nothing happened? 

I was drunk. She helped me basically stumble home. 

U both stumbled. in her sheets. 

Fuck off. Idiot. 

Neither of you mention any of Sirius’s messages to each other the entire morning. Too busy enjoying each other's company. 

-

The week spent after Remus had drunkenly stayed the night, you could pleasantly, though maybe even with a smidge of embarrassment, admit that he was all you thought about since. 

It was a new feeling. You’d never felt it before. The endearment, but also the nerves, of realising you actually like someone. Some days it made your cheeks ache from smiling, and filled your chest with warmth. On other days, the warmth cracked your chest open, an aching chasm pleading to be filled and a head clouded with apprehension.

You were eager and scared all at once. But you were happy either way because Remus made you feel things. Good things. 

You had spent the morning, forcing him to eat something, telling him it would make his hangover feel much better. He’d argued for no longer than two minutes before agreeing. Saying, who am I to argue with a girl like you?

“Like me?” you’d replied, mouth full of half-eaten pancake, pushing his own plate across the marble of your kitchen bar. 

“Smart,” he smiled, picking at a blueberry, “Pretty.” 

And after it was your turn to babble like a fool, he’d eased you open. Asked you about the record collection in your room (he was proud of himself for remembering). You’d rambled off your favourite artists, a lot similar, and he knew he’d be an idiot if he didn’t give you his number before he left. 

And he did. Wrote his number on your hand as you stood at your doorway and he thanked you for breakfast. And for walking him home, drunk. You kissed his cheek and watched him press his fingers into his skin until he rounded the corner. 

You wrote the number down on a piece of paper, magnetising it to your fridge as soon as you shut the door. Though your hands were sweaty - obviously because you were around Remus - and the last number had smudged. Was it a 3? Or an 8? Or a weird looking 5? You couldn’t tell and told yourself that was a problem you could deal with later.

It was later. A whole week later and you still hadn’t called him. If it was due to your nerves or the fact you had a missing number, that was your business only. You left the last space blank, the empty spot a blinding reminder of your stupidity. You’d just have to try every number until you found Remus. It would take no more than ten attempts.

Numbers zero through four were all wrong numbers. You were only met with a piercing tone before the line went dead. When you got to five, you were met with, what sounded like, a grumpy old lady. You tried to hang up straight away, well aware it wasn’t him, but she screeched and persisted that if she had a prank call one more time, she would phone the police!

Turns out, it was a 6 after all. The lovely tone of Remus’s voice rings down the line and you sigh in relief.

“It’s you.” Your voice is airy and Remus isn't sure he knows who it is. 

There are only a handful of people who have his number. His friends, most of them called and checked in regularly, except Mary, who's always one to stop by instead. His parents and his neighbour had it too. But he seriously doubted the latter, unless his flat had been ransacked. 

And then he remembers he'd given it to you and he laughs. All these thoughts happen within the span of two seconds. He hopes it's you, he's been anticipating a call all week. He was beginning to maybe think you didn’t actually want to hear from him. That he'd embarrassed himself in his drunken stupor. But then he remembered how nice you were to him.

You’ll make yourself sick.

“It is?” he laughs, still hoping it is in fact you. The image of his flat turned upside down, the spot on his mantle where his small TV is, now empty, flashes across his mind.

“Remus. It’s me!” you chirp and he pushes his phone closer to his ear as if it’ll make him hear your pretty voice even clearer.

”Me? I don’t think I know any me’s” he teases, fighting back an eager smile. Teasing you could be fun. Could become a constant. He’s imagining the warmth of your cheeks, and hopefully a small smile.

“Y/N,” you correct and he can almost hear the roll of your eyes. 

“Oh. I know an Y/N,” he smiles, leaning against the lip of his kitchen bench. “She’s very pretty,” he pauses, wanting to drag it out, “and she’s super-”

“Remus,” you plead. Half wanting him to continue, half wanting him to stop to save your phone splitting in half where you’re holding it too hard. “Stop.”

Hearing your smile isn’t enough for him, “Super cool. Actually probably way too cool for me and…”

Remus sighs, very happy with himself.

“You done?” you ask. 

“Maybe.”

“You’re a nuisance.”

Remus decides to not argue, you’re half right anyways. “I’m sorry. What’s up?”

You pause, thinking. You’ve forgotten why you called him for a moment. Too happy with just listening to him talk. You think you could do it all day if he let you. “I was wondering if you were coming out tonight? Drinks?” You feel silly asking now. It was drinks for James, he’d gotten a promotion, but of course, Remus is coming, they're best friends.

“Are you?”

You grin, “Yes. Yeah, I am.”

“Great. Me too.”

The excitement you feel when you know you’ll be seeing him again is palpable. Giddiness mixed with a number of nerves is always there whenever you think of him. He makes you feel like a schoolgirl again and you know he’ll be the cause of your undoing.

“Great.” 

A face-splitting smile erupts across Remus’s features. If only you could see each other.

-

The amount of time you spend getting ready in the afternoon for James’s get-together is silly. After what's an almost stupid amount of time rustling through your closet to find something, the final thing you settle on you hope isn’t stupid. A red skirt that ends mid-thigh, a white tee and a leather jacket. Boots that you hope actually do your legs justice, not just how they look in the mirror.

You know exactly why you're making such a fuss with your appearance. Spending an extra amount of time making sure loose hairs are sprayed down and a fresh coat of nail polish that's applied probably a little too late before you make your way out your front door.

You think that maybe if you didn’t know if Remus was attending or not it'd be a lot easier on you. Or maybe worse. God, you're a mess. You just really want to make him like you.

Arriving at the pub a little early is probably a bad idea in the long run. You greet James and Lily with equal delight. You hadn’t seen them since his shindig at least two weeks ago. Sirius, pint in hand, greets you loud enough to let the entire pub know of your arrival. Frank and Alice are absent. In-laws. You feel as though you had finally found the perfect group of friends.

James had told you that Remus was probably going to be late.

Which gives you too much time to down an inappropriate number of vodka-cranberries, much to Sirius’s delight. Pressed into a corner booth, settled next to James and Sirius who have now also transitioned to fruity drinks.

When Remus finally arrives, the sun now set, you're at least five cocktails deep. The pub is a little loud now, though you’d never struggle to hear any of your rambunctious friends. They're probably half the noise. You're a giggling mess, warm from the effects of alcohol. You feel ridiculously happy like you expected to, but you haven’t even seen Remus yet.

When you sip back the last dregs of your drink, the rim pressed into your nose, determined not to waste a single drop, your eyes finally settle on Remus who's selfishly been admiring you from afar. Your eyes light up like a delighted puppy and he has to bite his tongue to stop himself from smiling like an idiot.

He walks to the edge of the table, wet and sticky wood pressing into his jeans and he grimaces. “Finally he arrives,” James cheers, mojito raised in the air.

“Moony! Looking as ravishing as ever, my boy!” Sirius cheers with equal flare.

Remus ignores both of them with a tiny smile, too used to their words it’s like second nature to ignore them. “Sweetheart,” he smiles at you and you light up even more.

“Remus! You’re here.”

Sirius gets up and slides along the wall to make room for Remus next to you, “He looks ravishing, wouldn’t you say, Y/N? Good enough to eat,” he repeats

“I am hungry,” you admit with a giggle as Remus settles down next to you, only enough room for a sheet of paper to fit between your thighs.

“Having a good time, lovely?” Remus gestures to the empty glasses taking up the table in front of you. Your lips are stained red and he has to lick his own.

“Amazing!” You lean into his side and your hair tickles his neck. Your warmth seeps through Remus’s skin and he doesn’t have a single problem with how close the two of you are sitting. He’d be kidding himself if he said he did.

“I’m glad,” he says, hands settling atop the table.

“Are you?” You blink, eyes bright and welcoming. He has to avert his attention to your nose instead. Feeling as if you’d swallow him whole.

“I am now,” he grins.

Distracted, the half-empty glass in your hands spills when you twist its stem a little too quickly. A puddle of cosmo seeps into the half-polished tabletop and you cringe.

“Oops.” Quick to act, despite how sapped you feel from the cocktails, you grab a too-big handful of napkins from the dispenser in front of you.

With little to no flare, you push the entire pile of paper into the split drink and probably make it worse. The napkins almost turn to pink sludge and you only spread the drink further. A cold, sticky mess.

Remus laughs and grabs your wrists, pulling them up from the mess, “What have you done, hmm?” He puts your hands in your lap and you slouch, defeated.

“Accident,” you huff. You watch Remus’s hands swipe across the table, much better at cleaning up your mess. Like it wasn’t even there in the first place. 

Upset that your drink is now empty, when Sirius isn’t looking, too distracted talking quidditch with James, you reach forward and snatch his mojito. Cheering internally, too happy with yourself, you sip slowly.

“He won’t be too happy with that,” Remus laughs, pushing the serviettes to the side. 

You shrug, pushing further into the leather of the booth seat, “Accident.” you repeat.

Remus chuckles. You scull back the last of Sirius’s drink and Remus braces his hand on the skin between your shoulder blades, with a gentle “Take it easy,” 

You turn to him and wipe the line of drink from your chin with the back of your hand. Smiling before gently slamming the now-empty glass back to the table, a ring of condensation splashes across your palm. 

You wipe it across Remus’s leg unthinkingly and he wrinkles his nose. A dark stripe up his thigh. He takes your hand by the wrist again and grabs another napkin. Dabbing your palm gently and you act unaffected by his attentions when you trace the water on the table with your free hand.

“Am I the one who’s going to be doing the babysitting, tonight?” Remus counts the glasses that hadn’t been collected yet. Five. Six, now counting the one you stole.

You nod, gleefully.

“Saves me, then.” Lily takes another swig from her Pimm's, very happy. James presses into her side and throws his head back. 

“Merlin, I’m tired.” he huffs.

“Boo. No fun,” you pout, eyeing only his third drink that he hadn’t touched in way too long, “You drink too slowly, that’s your problem.” 

He snorts, “I don’t have the drinking problems, lovely.” 

You gasp, hand to your chest, sticky fingers pressing into your skin, “Just because I’m having fun!” 

You notice the beginnings of a frown across Sirius’s face, clocking the glass in front of you, green to your past pink drinks, “You little sneak.”

You pout, “Okay, I’m sorry, let me get the next round.” You move to stand and when you’re upright, the room spins. You grab Remus’s shoulder for purchase and he grabs your forearm. His grip is grounding, flesh between his slender fingers.

“Okay, let me get the drinks,” he says, standing. The love-hate relationship you have with his height hurts sometimes.

“No, let me.” You rummage through the purse over your shoulder, through sickles and spare tampons, and pull out a measly fiver. You hold it up to him with a frown, paper crumpled in your hand.

Remus chuckles and places his hands on your shoulders, “Sit.”

You do what he says and ignore the warmth in the pit of your belly.

As Remus stands at the bar to wait for the drinks, he turns to watch you with a content smile on his face and a warmth spreading up his chest until it begs to swatch his cheeks. He watches as you cover your face with your hands, giggling madly at something James is telling you. 

He thinks his heart is messing with him when it skips in his chest. When you throw your head back, neck bared and your eyes squinted, your shoulders raise like it’s the funniest thing you’ve ever heard (it could be but he doubts it), he thinks his heart has an actual fault. Almost halting completely when your eyes meet his and he thinks he’s been caught, but you smile contently and he has to look away before it jumps out his throat. 

He knows he’s truly done for.

He returns with a tray of drinks, mojito’s for his friends and a pint for himself, a packet of crisps pinched between his teeth. If he doesn’t choose to drink cocktails with everyone else because he wants to be sober to keep his eye on you, that’s completely his business. 

He places the drinks down, a hum of thank yous and cheers follow, he opens his mouth to let the crisps fall into your lap. You startle and look up at him, bemused.

“You said you were hungry.” He smiles.

You beam, hiccuping what he thinks is thanks.

“Where’s my fuckin food?” Sirius calls, voice very clear above the din of the pub. He throws a cube of ice at Remus and misses.

“Up your ass.” 

Sirius goes to reach for a crisp and you clutch the foil bag close to your chest. He doesn’t try again, thinking you might bite him. “Fuck, I need a cig.” 

He stands and stops Remus from sitting as he climbs over you. Squeezing past with almost zero care. You laugh, he seems hangry.

When he almost steps on your toe, “Look out, you prat.” Remus scolds.

“C’mon. Outside.” Sirius drags him away before he can even protest.

-

“You gonna ask her out, or what?” Sirus leans against the wall of the smoking area and flicks his ash.

Remus groans, “Don’t say it like it's easy or some shit.”

“Is it not?” Sirius laughs like it’s obvious. Remus envies his natural charm some days. He wished it came easy to him.

“No. She doesn’t like me like that.” Remus toes the gravel beneath his boot with a crunch. Watches as it skips across the ground and to the firepit. A distraction from the scolding that he’s expecting he’s about to get from Sirius.

Sirius coughs on a thick exhale of smoke, pushes himself off the wall. “You’re fucking with me, right?”

“What? No.” In some delusional, fucked up way, no, Remus is fucking with Sirius. Not since 7th year, anyways.

“She's mad about you,” Sirius laughs around the filter of his cigarette, “It’s sickening really. I mean she’s gotta be half dumb or something.” After another exhale he flicks more ash to the ground.

“Fuck up.”

“Whatever.”

There’s a beat before Remus says, “She doesn’t feel that way about me.” His head rests against the red brick behind him and wishes it would swallow him up. He wishes this was easier.

“What, you think she wears her best red skirt for people she doesn’t love?”

He lifts his head and glares at Sirius, “You really are a fucking twat, you know?” He steals the cigarette from between Sirius’s fingers and ignores his grunt as he inhales deeply. As deep as he can until Sirius swats his hand.

“I’m fucking kidding.” He takes it back, grimacing at the butt of what’s left.

“Still a twat,” Remus grunts.

Sirius flicks the orange filter to the ground and squashes it under his leather boot. “Seriously, Moons. Make a move already, it’s starting to get sad.”

He sighs, and Sirius almost wants to slap some sense into him. He doesn’t, remembering how he’d reacted last time he did. “I can’t. I’m not ruining anything.”

He decides to pat his shoulder instead, a gentler approach, “You’re a miserable sap.” He squeezes his sad friend, “She likes you, a lot, and she’s really good for you, y’know?”

“She is, isn’t she?” Remus sighs, lovelorn and dizzy, “Fuck, she’s so amazing. I don’t know what I’m gonna do. Have you seen her when she laughs? Fuck sakes.” He has to stop himself before he rants too much.

The both of them start to make their way back into the pub. “Alright, put your fucking cock away.”

Remus opens the door to the bar, “Get inside,” he laughs.

“If you don’t make a move soon, fuck I might.” Remus’s face goes slack and he pushes his dickhead of a friend towards their table with a little too much force. He stumbles with a hearty chuckle.

Left alone in the middle of the bar, a little incensed, he turns to look around and spots what looks like your aforementioned red skirt, standing in front of the claw machine. 

Bemused, but more intrigued, he beelines for you with slow strides. When he stands behind you he places his hand to your shoulder. You turn around and smile warmly. You’re standing, more like swaying, with both hands inside your purse.

“What are you doing, dove?” he asks and squeezes your shoulder. You push back into him, probably for the stability you lack. He braces you with his thigh behind yours.

“You smell like a chimney.” You wrinkle your nose and he laughs. It reverberates through your chest and you have to blink away the way it makes you feel. Sleepy.

“Sirius is a horrible influence,” he says with an equally wrinkled nose. 

“I’m looking for a coin,” you answer his question, looking back down into your purse. “Want to win you something.” Remus’s heart swells tenfold.

Before he can pull one from his pocket as an offering, you bend over and tip your entire purse to the paisley carpet, contents spilling everywhere. Wizard money, bright pink tampons, chapsticks and gum wrappers sit in a pile and Remus steps back with a disgruntled sigh.

You turn and crouch down to sort through everything, Remus looks down and gawps for a second. Half amused, half displeased. He bends down with you and helps as well.

“Do you think it'll take sickles?” you question, moving bandaids to the side. It’s looking like a lost cause.

Remus shakes his head with a laugh, “I don’t think so, honey.” 

You frown. 

“Here,” He handles a few items and places them in your purse, “I’ll help you clean this up and I’ll win you something, hm?” Remus thinks you’re a bit like Mary Poppins with how much stuff you have. He’d say this to you because you probably would understand the muggle reference, but you seem too upset over your lack of coins. 

“Was gonna win you some chocolate,” you laugh, picking up more stuff. 

The last few items fall back in with little organisation and he stands. You take his outstretched hands and let him gently tug you back up with a ruffle of your hair.

He pulls a coin from his pocket and slots it into the machine. You stand around to the side with your hands pressed to the glass like a little kid. The flow of colours washes you fluorescent as you point to a cherry ripe in a perfect spot.

He grips the joystick and moves it to where he thinks it hovers right above it.

“More to the left,” you say with your finger smooshed against the machine.

“You’re drunk,” he says before he pushes the red button on top of the stick, not moving it to where you’d said.

You laugh as it doesn’t even graze the chocolate. Claw coming back up with nothing. “Whatever.” He has two more chances at grabbing it and he’s determined.

The second time he does listen to you but still misses by the width of a hair. You both hold your breath as the claw gets lowered for the final time. You bend over to get a better view and watch as it gets picked up, not cheering until it gets dropped in the chute.

You clap as Remus cheers, taking the chocolate thankfully, opening it immediately with a crinkle of red foil. “Thank you, Remus.”

“Anytime.”

You break the chocolate in half and offer him the bigger portion. You both stand there, chewing on cherry and coconut and chocolate. You look at your sticky fingers and the worst of the after-effects of six cocktails suddenly hits you in a wave of nausea. Not enough to make you want to throw up, but enough for you to groan and grab your stomach.

“I think I should go home,” you whine, placing your half of the chocolate back into the wrapper and into your purse, probably just to melt and make a mess. A later problem, you think.

“Feeling okay?” he asks, turning to check you over. Etebrows pinched in concern already.

“I think I had too many cocktails,” you laugh, weakly at that.

“How are you getting home?” he asks.

You laugh, having flashbacks to your last encounter. “That’s my line.” 

“It’s a good one.”

“I don’t know how I’m getting home,” you say.

“I’ll call you a taxi.”

You sigh, “That’d be lovely.”

-

After saying goodbye to the rest of the group, after they’d moaned about your fifteen-minute disappearance with Remus, Thought you’d gotten stuck in the cubicle! James had laughed. Drunkenly, you’d missed the joke. Remus had smacked him up the back of the head. But now, the both of you were making your way to the front entrance.

Remus has to drag you out the door, holding you upright as you stammer and trip on things that aren't there.

“Be careful,” he tuts, holding you closer under his arm. 

“There was a frog!” you explain, very much exasperated.

“No there wasn’t,” he laughs.

“Was so!” you strain, fisting his shirt behind his back, sure to stretch the cotton.

“You just want me to hold you tighter.” He’s smug when he says it and can’t really help it. He has Sirius’s words ringing in the back of his head. 

You stop at the gutter and kick a stone with your boot, “Maybe.”

Your knees ache, wanting nothing more than to crouch down to the ground. You think it would probably be a bad idea. Though with sore knees and a spinning head, bad ideas turned to the best. 

You pull yourself from Remus' hold and bend your legs to crouch in the gutter. Remus’s eyes blow wide and he looks down at you. Not again, he thinks.

Before he can ask what you’re doing, thinking you've passed out, you look up, “Head rush,” you giggle with a huff of air. He sits down next to you, knees almost pressed into his chin. 

Remus tugs your knee so you turn towards him, legs pressed together. He keeps his large palm over your thigh because being crouched in a gutter leaves little to the imagination to the drunks walking past and he’s not going to ask you to get up if you’re dizzy. 

“You okay?” he murmurs. 

You rest your head on his shoulder much like he had the last time you saw him. He hopes he had more care than you do with your cheek cruelly smooshed into his skin. “I’m just a little drunk.” 

Lucky for Remus, before he thinks you’re about to fall asleep on his shoulder, your taxi is pulling up. He helps you stand, opens the back door and ushers you in. 

Listening to your murmur of thanks Remus before he clicks you in. 

“What’s your address, dove? So I can tell the driver.” You give him your address and he passes it off. 

Before he can close the door for you, you grab his wrist. 

“When can I see you next?” you ask brightly. Hopefully. 

“Call me when you’re not hungover,” he laughs, brushing his fingers across your arm. Your grip hardens. 

“You’ll answer?” He almost laughs again at how drunk you sound. Of course, he’ll answer. 

“Of course, sweetheart.” 

You lean across your seat, seatbelt pulling taut as you press a kiss to his cheek. Warm and buttery-soft just like last time, but maybe even worse now that his feelings for you are stronger. It burns. 

“Thank you, Remus.” 

“That’s okay, lovely.” 

-

You in fact did call Remus, a couple of days after your night out. Expected, you were hungover so you waited a day after to talk. 

Remus hadn’t really been expecting you to call him, despite how eager you seemed, he had talked himself out of believing you had any feelings for him. Like he’d imagined it or something. 

So, when his phone rings, he’s not expecting it to be you at all. He answers with a sigh, thinking it’s James or Sirius. 

“What do you want?” His voice is void of any excitement or joy you’d been selfishly expecting. You were also expecting a more welcoming greeting. 

“Remus?” you say, and his hand stills in his cupboard where he’s distractedly putting clean dishes away. 

He shuts the cupboard’s door a little too abruptly and cringes, clears his throat so he can speak, “Y/N! Shit, sorry. Hey.” He cringes even more at his stupidity. 

“Expecting someone else?” you laugh. 

He nods like you can see him, “Yeah, sorry.” He swallows and tries to fix himself, “How are you?” 

“I’m good,” you say with a little sigh, “Really, really good.” 

“That’s great!” 

“Yeah, how are you?” you question. 

Remus’s voice goes quieter, “Amazing.” Then there’s a small beat like you’re both thinking, “So, what’s up? Everything okay?” 

In his mind, his stupid, paranoid mind, there’s a possibility that all you’ve done is pocket-dialled him. Or, accidentally pressed his name in your contacts, maybe mistaken the name Moony for Mum. 

Is his name Moony in your phone? Or is it just Sirius’s friend? God, he wants his thoughts to shut up. 

“I wanted to ask you something!” When it sounds like you actually want to talk to him, what almost feels like relief washes over him. Paints him bright as he settles on his sofa, beaming like a schoolboy when he says, 

“Oh, yeah?” 

“Yeah!” Your excitement is dizzying. “Are you free this weekend?” 

He has to swallow before he speaks, eagerness bleeds through his skin. His foot taps and he picks at a loose thread on his battered shirt.  “Yeah, I am.” 

You chirp a happy noise, “Awesome! Cool. Um, there’s that gig on at The Red Lion if you wanted to come?”

Remus doesn’t see himself as a cool person and it definitely doesn’t show when he says, “Yeah! I’d love to.” in a tone pitched higher than normal. 

“Great. I think Sirius is coming too, I told him about it the other day and said he should invite the others. I wasn’t sure if he had asked you yet.” 

Oh. 

Remus feels like the biggest idiot ever. You weren’t asking him out, why would you? 

He leans down between his legs until all the air is forced from his lungs, he covers the receiver with his hand and groans, long and suffering in self-pity. 

Is coughing to clear your throat and hide your disappointment a good thing? Because his voice is a little squeaky when he replies. When he sits back up his head spins. “Sounds great.” 

He hears some shuffling on the end of your line before you say, “Amazing. I’ll see you then. Sorry, gotta go. Bye Remus!” 

“Bye, sweetheart.” 

Remus has about thirty seconds of wallowing in self-pity before his phone is ringing again. He wants to shove it in between his sofa cushions and forget about everything. But he sees Sirius' name flash up on the screen so he answers. 

“Moony!” Sirius’s voice pierces the phone line and Remus cringes. “Remus, my good friend.”

“Did you just get lucky or something?” Remus gruffs. 

“Huh?” 

“You’re too happy. Calm it down.” 

Sirius groans, “You’re so content with being miserable, Remus. Just because you can’t get your dick wet.” 

Remus wished his stupid friend could see the displeasure on his face, “What do you want?” 

“You’re free this weekend, aren’t you?” He questions and Remus hums a yes, expecting to hear the exact same question you had just asked him only three minutes ago. 

“Well, you, me, the gang, and a few pints at The Red Lion. Sounds like a plan?” Remus detests his friend's happiness. Or envies it. He feels miserable and doesn’t think Sirius is deserving of his lack of enthusiasm just because you didn’t ask him out. 

“Yeah, Y/N already asked me,” he replies. 

“Well, don’t get too excited.” Sirius huffs a laugh. 

“No, sorry. It’s just I thought she- never mind. Sounds good.” 

“Awesome. I’ll send you the deets.” 

Remus almost laughs, “The deets? Wait until I tell Marls you talk like that.” 

“Shut up.” 

“Bye, Sirius.” 

Sirius hangs up before he can. 

-

Remus spots you before you do, again. Watches where you lean against the bar on your tip-toes, talking to the bartender about something. He’s making you laugh and he feels the stupid need that it should be him instead. 

He does what he always does; walks up behind you and presses his shoulder into your back. You chirp and turn around. Then, your eyes do that thing that they always do that makes him bite the inside of his cheek. They squint, confused, and then light up when you realise who you’re looking at. Remus could swear that they sparkle, but that’s just something he imagines in his lovesick head. 

“Remus!” You smile, mouth upturning until the apples of your cheeks swell. You wrap your fingers around his bicep and pull him into your side. He lets you, willingly. 

“Y/N,” he says probably a little too quietly for the setting. The pub is starting to fill quickly while the band does sound check, the general hubbub of the patrons mixes in with the strumming of guitars and the feedback from the mics. 

“You’re all wet,” you giggle, pressing your fingers into the underside of his arm. 

“Yeah, it’s starting to rain out there,” he says. 

“You walked?” You frown, pulling your hands from his arm. He can still feel where your fingers were wrapped. A burn against his wet skin. 

“From the bus stop.” 

“You know there’s this thing wizards can do, I’m not sure if you heard of it. It’s called disapparition,” you quirk, mouth upturning into a teasing smile.

Amused, Remus says, “I don’t usually like muggles to watch someone appear out of thin air.”

You reach forward to grab some napkins from the dispenser on the bar, probably too many. “I would’ve picked you up,” you say matter-of-factly.

He doesn’t reply, just stops still when you reach up to brush away the damp hair from his eyes. There’s water bunching in his hair and falling in tiny beads down his face, over his top lip. You laugh when he licks it away before you dab across his forehead and then his cheeks. 

“I missed you,” you say, bunching the paper into a ball. 

Remus smiles, too hard he thinks. “You saw me last weekend.” 

You think he might be teasing you, though you’re not sure. You feel like you’ve overstepped. Demure, your eyes widen at your error. “Sorry,” you laugh, airy and quiet. 

Remus pokes you in your side, “I missed you too,” he laughs. 

You nod your head and bite your lip. You feel eased. But embarrassed in the first place. Scrunching the ball of damp napkins in your hands until it pinches. Still, you’re overjoyed. 

“What are you drinking?” you ask, splaying your hands over the bar, leaning where it comes up to your chest. You try to ignore everything. The way Remus is making you feel, the busy pub that’s teeming with rowdy people. 

“Not sure,” he quirks, eyeing the taps at the end of the bar. “What about you?” 

“I think I might just stick to squash,” you laugh knowingly. 

“You’re on it tonight,” Remus laughs, splaying his fingers around your shoulder. 

“I’m not having any repeats of last week.” 

“Damn,” he pouts, “Drunk Y/N is cute.” 

You warm, “Drunk Y/N is messy.” 

He squeezes you, a funny pinch. “I think you can be both.” 

You lean into his side while he orders your drinks. His hand doesn’t move and you don’t want it to. It’s warm and grounding and feels too good to be true. How touchy he is and how you love it. You imagine a world where he doesn’t just touch your shoulder. Imagining what he’d do if you were together. How ruining he would be. 

Distracted by his grip on your arm, before you can even reach into your purse to grab your money, he’s paid. 

“Remus,” you scold, pushing yourself off the bar. 

“Dove,” he smiles, placating. He grabs both of your drinks, in one hand, fingers twisting. The other snakes down to grab your hand to guide you through the crowd of people. 

“Stop paying for my drinks.” Someone bumps into you and Remus digs his elbow into your side to stop you from tripping. You smile thankfully. 

You let him weave you through patrons, your hand flexing around his until you get to your table. Once you've sat down, he says, “Sorry, didn’t think a fiver would cover it.” 

Faux scolding, you shove his arm. “I have more money on me this time.” 

“Good,” Sirius pipes up, “you can buy me that cocktail you owe me.” 

“I’m sorry, Sirius.” You act like it genuinely does upset you. Though the thought of how you acted when you were drunk last week, is worse. “I’m a really annoying drunk.”

“Sirius is being dramatic,” Remus sighs, leaning back against the booth. He throws an arm behind you, pressing it up against the wall. You stay sitting forward, not sure if it’d be too much to lean into him. Despite him making the first move. “You got your cocktail.”

“Yeah, you bought it,” Sirius faux scoffs. It’s hard to believe that he actually cares about a stolen mojito, easier to believe he’s determined to tease you until you die. “Doesn’t count.”

“I’ll buy you a cocktail if you really want me to, Sirius,” you lilt, happy to get him to shut up. It works when Remus shoots him a look you don’t understand. Sirius bites his tongue and sits back in his seat. 

By the time James and Lily get back from the bar, the band has started their set and you’ve had enough time to think too much on whether or not you should lean into Remus’s side. His weight behind you feels like a magnet. The more you want to pull away the stronger the urge is to just give up and fall against him. 

Much like everything is with Remus. The more you allow yourself to think you really do like him, the harder it is to keep to your regular ways. You’ve never allowed yourself to be so openly affectionate and loving towards someone without second-guessing every single thing you do.

Not that you don’t. Every time you speak to him, touch his arm for too long or allow yourself to wrap your own arm around his back, there’s that voice in the back of your head that’s screaming at you. Telling you that you’ve let your guard down too much for a boy you’re not even sure likes you as much as you do him and you’ve embarrassed yourself.

It’s totally overwhelming and constantly feels like a back-and-forth battle. Because, sure, it's no secret anymore to anyone who isn't Remus, that you like him. You just wished it were easier.

As if he can hear your head reeling, or he’s just noticed how quiet you’ve suddenly become, he nudges your leg where it’s crossed with his own jean-clad one.

“You okay?” he asks. His face is soft. Too soft for your dismissive and relentless thoughts to ebb. It’s suddenly painful to even be looking at him and you’ve only been around him for no less than twenty minutes. He’s always had that ability.

The nod you give him is unconvincing and your smile is even worse. His eyes flicker and you open your mouth to speak before he can, “Yeah, jus’ thinking.”

“I can tell.” 

“You can?”

You chance another look back at him and regret it instantly when he’s smiling like he knows something you don’t. “Yeah.” He nods, “You’re making that face you always do when something’s eating at you.”

Hating being read for filth, you turn to take a sip from your drink, filling your mouth with your straw lest you say something stupid. You drink it too quickly, and once it’s down to its last dregs, your head aches. Brain freeze. You squeeze your eyes shut and try to distract yourself when you say, “What face?”

“Your lips part and your eyebrows pinch. Sometimes I have to double-check you’re not crying.” Remus is a lovely, horribly attentive boy. And if he keeps saying things like that, things that let you know he does actually pay attention to you, you’re not going to last. When you said you wondered how ruining he would be, this isn’t what you had in mind.

Remus says something to you again, but you don’t catch it. The band transitions into a much louder song and his words fall on deaf ears. You do, however, catch the look he shares with Sirius again over your shoulder. 

Confused, you suddenly think fresh air would be better than to pain yourself through whatever’s happening around you. “I’ll go get that mojito,” you mumble.

You weave yourself over Remus’s lap, careful where your shoes and hands land, careful to also ignore where he stables you with his own hand on the back of your knee. You try to make it discrete as you beeline for the bar, taking a small turn to head for the back doors.

The warm air cast from the setting sun slowly dwindles away and you cross your arms over your body, leaning against the railing to the left of the smoking area. When the door shuts behind you, the music from inside slowly dies down and you’re grateful to be the only one out here. 

The fear you have been feeling throughout your entire friendship with Remus does its best to claw its way up your throat. Makes your breathing staggered and your palms itch. You suspect if you spent any more time with him inside you would’ve only embarrassed yourself more than you feel like you already have. Best you do it out here instead.

The muffled music slowly grows louder when you hear the door open and you pay it no mind. Not until there’s a hand on your shoulder. You flinch and turn around, pushing yourself against the railing.

“Shit, sorry. Just me,” Remus smiles, pulling his hand from your shoulder.

“Remus,” you breathe, hand to your chest, “You scared me.”

“Sorry,” he frowns.

You pause. Trust him to notice your departure. You hope he doesn’t ask you any questions, you don’t expect yourself to hold anything in anymore if he soothes you over.

“You okay?”

Fuck sakes.

“Um, yeah.” You nod. Remus moves to your side, arm pressed up against the railing and you follow him. Turning so you’re face to face.

“You sure? You just kind of up and left.” he laughs weakly, stopping when he notices you don’t join in.

“Sorry,” you apologise.

“What for?” he asks kindly. You once more detest his kindness and his ability to get you to open up.

“I don’t know,” you sigh, leaning further into the railing and it rattles, “I’m being weird.” You’re not opening up like you’d expected, though the words you want to say to him are at the back of your mind, where they were once pushed away, slowly crawling forward. If he keeps looking at you like that, they might spill.

“You’re not.”

“I am. I’m thinking too much and it,” you heave a calming breath. You want to tell him how you feel, not ramble, “it hurts.”

“Hey,” He traces a line over the hinge of your elbow, “what’s going on in that head of yours, hm? Care to let me in?”

You swallow, “That’s the problem. I can’t find the words.”

“That’s okay.” He squeezes your arm, “Take your time.”

His gaze is soft though it still burns where it’s settled over your face, his grip on your arm is worse. Still, it’s grounding. You blink and take a few calming breaths.

The door opens up again and the band’s music spews back outside. It’s the same song that was playing the night you sat on Sirius's couch and you’d freaked about how it was both your favourite. In some cheesy, cliche way, you take it as a sign.

“I’ve never been one for showing, let alone telling someone how I feel about them,” you begin, “I’m not sure if that’s the most obvious thing ever, or if I’ve gotten really good at hiding it but…”

Remus is smiling widely, more smug than anything. It makes you nervous and you advert your gaze to the ground. Over the ash-strained brick tile under your sneakers, “Stop looking at me like that or I won’t be able to finish what I’m trying to tell you,” you sigh.

“Like what?” he asks like he’s oblivious. Like his mouth isn’t now upturned into the slyest smile.

“That!’’ Your face grows warm and you have to press the backs of your hands into them. You can feel the thrumming of your heart in your fingertips.

“Sorry, you were saying,” he chuckles. 

“God, where did you get all this confidence from, Remus?” you ask, a little dazed. Maybe it’s the setting or the fact you’re both finally sober together that brings out a different side of him, though you can’t be sure.

Remus shakes his head, “I’m sorry, you just look so cute when you get flustered.”

Your mouth parts, a shocked, demure gasp slips past them. Gawping, you say, “You’re not drunk, are you?” It’s not the first time he’s said it, but it's the first time it feels different.

“Not this time. For once,” he laughs knowingly.

“Right,” you pause. Taking in a shuddered breath. In what world you would ever expect this to be easy, you’re not sure. You’re also not sure that doing this with Remus makes it easier. Easier, because he makes you feel secure and appropriately worked down to tell him anything; harder because it’s him you have to let your emotions go with. It’s him you have to let know of your heartachingly, sore feelings you have. He can’t just be there on the sidelines guiding you through it.

Remus watches you slip away into your shy, quiet self again. He can almost hear your thoughts reeling, “God, you’re worse than me.”

You giggle nervously, all pitched up and light, “You make me nervous,”

He steps forward and if your eyes weren’t stuck on the ground, you wouldn’t have noticed it. He’s smooth. “Do I now?” He hooks a knuckle under your downwardly pointed chin and gives it a tap.

You look back up, catching his gaze, “I hate you,”

“No you don’t,” he says matter of factly. Like its the most obvious thing ever. You’re sure it is.

“I don’t?” You blink slowly.

He closes the gap between you some more and suddenly you’re overwhelmed by him. The smell of his laundry detergent, something familiar and heady, mixed in with the cologne that you swear follows you home. Where the toe of his boot almost touches your sneaker and where the sleeve of his sweater catches on your bracelet because he’s as close as possible. Though you still think he’s not close enough. 

His voice mixes in with the same song that’s playing inside and you can barely hear him when it builds to a crescendo and he says, “You weren’t about to go on some rant about how you love me?”

“Remus…” you murmur, quieter than the thumping of your heart in your chest,

“No?”

You bite your tongue, but it does nothing to stop you from saying, “God, yes. Just- kiss me, please.”

“What?” he asks, more shocked than you’ve been this entire interaction.

“Kiss me, Remus. Before the song ends.” You lean into him, up on the balls of your feet and pull your hands between your bodies.

Face to face, lips hovering over yours, he murmurs, “You sure?”

“Completely,”

It’s the last thing you say before Remus kisses you so hard, so deep, that you forget how it was even possible to form words in his presence before now. Snakes his arms around your back and holds you so close your shirt rides up until your skin presses into the soft material of his sweater. 

He tastes of stout, a weird mixture against the lemon on your tongue. You can’t find it in you to mind when he hums into your mouth. A desperate, pleading sound that has you squeezing the flesh of his hips. Compared to the reserved and diffident relationship you’ve held with Remus up until now, the kiss you share is nothing alike. It’s passionate and heated. Longing.

The song ends and with a final tug of your bottom lip, he pulls away panting. Eyes skipping over your face, a little glassy and bouncy. “Fuck,” he murmurs.

Tugging on the hem of his sweater, you say, “What?’' with a light chuckle.

“If I…” Remus has to compose himself lest he says something embarrassing. Completely forward. “If I knew kissing you would’ve been like that…I would’ve done it ages ago.”

“I think I’ve wanted you to kiss me for a really long time,” you confess, giddily rocking back and forth on your feet. Canvas sneakers crushing into the ground.

“Yeah?” he hums. Smugness still ever present.

“Yeah.”

“Thoughts on me kissing you again?” he asks, still not letting you go where you’re held against his torso.

You look over his shoulder, “I think if you kiss me again, Sirius’s jaw might fall to the floor.”

Remus turns and spots Sirius and James almost pressed to the glass window. James doesn’t look as pleased, shoving a crumpled note into Sirius's palm. Turning back to face you, he rolls his eyes, “I think they had a bet going.”

“Should we give Sirius his money’s worth?” you giggle.

“I’m going to kiss you. But, not for Sirius.” Remus says, “Only because you look insanely beautiful right now and if I don’t do it again, my brain might go numb.”

“What are you waiting for then?”

“Nothing.”

obviously harry is the biggest one direction fan. he too got addicted to that 1 D in 2010 and hasn’t stopped being obsessed with it since.

JUST KISS ME

remus lupin x fem! reader

Request: yes / no

Synopsis: Remus finally has the courage to kiss you but for a reason he ignores, you refuse it and it hurts.

Warning/content: hurt to comfort, crying, kissing, mention of party, my English

a.n.: 1.1k words- i feel like this is shit but i feel like i haven't post in a while so here i am

masterlist/ marauders masterlist / navigation / taglist 

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.───･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.──

Remus was terrified. You were so so close to him and so so pretty, he might die on the spot. He didn’t want to go to this party but you made it worth it. He never knew someone like you, you were perfect for him. Ever since he met you, he loved you, wanted you. As if he was stuck by glue onto you.

But you didn’t know how he felt, he never told you. And tonight he decided it was going to be the night. The night he would finally be brave enough to kiss you and if everything was perfect you would kiss him back.

After a pep talk from James and a drink from Sirius, he had walked to you and now he was dancing with you. Yes. Remus Lupin, the certified lanky guy, dancing with you. But again, since it was with you, it wasn’t trouble. By your side, he was able to forget about the world around him. It was just you and him.

Remus was smiling so hard his cheeks were hurting. He felt it. It was the perfect moment to lean in and meet your lips. Carefully, his left hand found your cheek as his right arm snaked around your waist. You were both in the middle of the common room, students surrounding you, giving you no intimacy.

You were looking up at him and as he bent his head down, letting you understand what he was about to do, your smile left your lips and gave a place to… disgust? fear? Whatever it was, it hurt.

Before he could even realise it, you were gone. Remus looked around, feeling tears stinging his eyes. What did he just do? What did he just do? He covered his mouth with his hand to stop himself from letting out wails.

His heart was aching, as if you just had stabbed him. It took him so long to build a wall of confidence to kiss you and you just smashed it into little pieces. He wanted to find a corner and cry and scream and eventually disappear.

What did he just do?

When his mind decided to bring him back to the real world, Sirius and James were standing in front of him “You alright mate?” the latter asked.

Remus swallowed hard, nodded, knowing very well his friends understood it was a lie and stormed out of the common room. He just paced in the castle until his legs were sore and tired and decided to sit down on the closest window sill he could find.

He pushed his knees to his chest and tried his very best not to cry. He failed. His shoulders slumped as tears ran down his cheeks. He felt humiliated, he never had much self-confidence but right now he felt like it couldn't be worse.

What was the problem with him? The scars? The oversized clothes? The eye bags? Him. Was he the entire problem?

He didn’t know for how long he stayed there but his eyes were swollen and the skin of his cheeks was burning from the salt of his tears when he heard footsteps resonating in the hallway. Quickly, he wiped his cries away before stiffening, hoping he could melt with the stonewall.

“Remus?” he froze when he heard your voice.

He did everything he could to avoid your eyes but you decided to sit in front of him, your feet touching his.

“Hi,” you said, trying to start a conversation after what happened.

“Hi.” You winced, you could hear he had cried and it made your heart throb in your chest.

“I’m sorry for what happ-”

“Stop that. Please,” he begged. He didn’t want your pity, his ego was shattered enough already.

Your eyebrows knitted together “Stop what?” you didn’t like when Remus was upset and even less when it was because of you. You didn’t mean to do that.

“Apologizing. It just hurts. I know you don’t like me back, don’t rub it in.” He was picking at his nails, fingers moving to stop his mind from exploding with too many overwhelming thoughts.

Your eyes widened “I… don’t like you back?” Remus didn’t answer, he felt too ashamed. He just ruined the only chance he had with the girl of his dream and you, as the angel you were, had to communicate to understand what just happened. Only, he knew what happened, he was rejected by you and he didn’t want to talk. He wanted to bury himself to hide his shame.

The long silence made you realise he wasn’t going to talk “I- I made you think that?” you said, your voice lower than before. “You think I don’t love you?” you asked as you got up, walking a bit to help you think. “No no. I don’t want you to think this. I didn’t mean to-”

“You refused my kiss.” he cut you off, offended, thinking you were playing the idiot.

“No!” you didn’t mean to yell but had to carry on “I didn’t refuse your kiss… I refused your kiss in front of everyone! I’m sorry… I- I just- I wasn’t comfortable. I’m truly sorry I didn’t want to react like this!”

Remus was looking up at you, not entirely convinced. He knew you didn’t like being the centre of attention but when he almost kissed you, the world around you faded and he didn’t think about this detail at all. “It hurt” His heart started to melt a bit when he saw the guilty air you wore. 

“I know and I’m sorry…” Remus understood you were honest, you were an impulsive kind of person and it wasn’t the first time you reacted without really thinking first. “I really like you, you know that?”

Remus blushed at your words, glancing at his feet, heat rushing to his cheeks in a second “Um- no- I don’t know..”

When the boy looked up again, you seemed a little more confident as you got closer to him. “Can I show you?”

Remus nodded and it was all you needed to lean in and kiss him. He didn’t wait before copying your motion and deepening the kiss. Somehow, you ended up in his lap with his hands positioned the same as a few hours before. One hand on your cheek, the other on your hip.

You pulled away for air and rested your forehead against his “I’m sorry again,” you whispered

“Just kiss me,” Remus smirked.

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.───･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.──

⋆ ★ remus lupin taglist: @ell0ra-br3kk3r @sw34terw34ther @cauliflowertree @madison-rebel @moonlitmeeks  @rhydianissuperior @loveeharrington @mad-elia @jackys-stuff-blog @elenatries2write @princess-paramour @juneberrie @faeriieblush @gilmore-angel @heartfucks @sparklenarniawizard @songs4themoon @moondemon123 @mystic-writings @siriusblackstwin @natashxromanovf @violetteshoneybee @unadulterated-syd @goodoldfashionedluvergirl @garfieldsladybird @kidcuisinesvcks @percy-the-hufflepuff @fairydxll @spookydarkwitch @innerloverpainter @vancitycharlie @nyxxxxxxxx @venussflytraps @diorgirl444 @oncasette @locke-writes @dori-and-gray @itsarajr @maddipoof @starconfettii

the fbi vest and glasses stay on.

i am sooo obsessed with the idea of casual intimacy with remus

being in the same room doing completely separate tasks but enjoying each other’s company

small touches.. a gentle brush walking past one another.. your knees pressed together sitting next to each other.. laying on the couch with your legs tangled.. sharing the same pair of earphones

falling asleep and waking up together, quietly doing night time routines together.. making faces in the mirror while brushing your teeth.. passing each other things before the other remembers they’ll need it

unknowingly wearing the other’s clothes ! but also purposefully wearing the other’s clothes !

doing chores together! he washes the dishes while you dry them.. doing laundry and sitting together while you fold clothes

giving each other books and things bc “i thought you’d like this” and “this reminded me of you”

OR showing one another things you’ve made bc remus wrote something and wants you to read it or you painted something and want to show him

this look…

00:00 | jhs

↳ just a lazy, late night.

◇ hoseok x reader ◇ fluff (with just a sprinkle of spice) | idol!au ◇ 0.9k [1/1]

⇢ what! me! writing??? nahhh it’s really me just finishing up a thing that’s been in my drafts for at least a year and a half!!! 🫠 happy late bday to hobi, as usual!!!

It’s well after midnight when Hoseok stumbles in through the front door, exhaustion creasing his face and stress shadowing his brow. His dark hair is shoved haphazardly into a bright yellow beanie, his ears folded beneath the edges, and you look up from your phone as he drops his bag onto the ground. “Hey,” he says as he locks the door behind him, his voice a low rasp. “It’s late. Why’re you still up?”

Trust Jung Hoseok to worry about your sleep schedule when his own is completely and irreparably fucked.

“Couldn’t sleep,” you murmur, and it’s the truth. Some nights, you find it near impossible to fall asleep when Hoseok isn’t laying at your side. It’s almost alarming how quickly he’s become ingrained in your life—rooting himself in your schedule and in your heart—but you wouldn’t want it any other way. 

Keep reading

"Let's get engaged"

Pairing: Hoseok X fem!reader

Theme: Fluff, established relationship au

Word count: 750

Warnings: Nothing

Summary: Hoseok is enlisting but he has some pending works to complete beforehand.

*******************

"So….. it's the time, isn't it?"

"Um…. Hmm?"

"Where are you so lost, Hobi? We have exactly a month left. Can you please focus on me as of now?"

You're annoyed. It's such a big news and you had to be notified by weverse while you should have been one of the individuals to know at the earliest possible.

You were shocked, broke down in tears, got angry and uncontrollably annoyed when the news of your boyfriend's enlistment reached to your weverse account. You didn't waste time, getting off of work as early as possible, you reached him but he was busy in a weverse live. Hence, you waited. And now you're laying on his bed, waiting for him to say something or make a stupid excuse regarding this decision of secrecy.

Let's be real here, you knew this time would come for sure. But it came sooner than you anticipated and you obviously weren't ready. You at least expected Hoseok to have a discussion with you or to tell you that he has already made a choice and he's going for it. Not that you would have ever opposed it, but you at least deserved to know beforehand.

But he's staying silent. Since the moment he saw you at the company, he's been silent, which is very very unlikely. He was silent during the entire ride back to his home as well and this silence is concerning you.

It's been two years since you two started dating. And oh boy! Is dating an idol tough? Hell yeah. But you have done everything to keep your relationship going, so did he. Just like any other couples you had fights, bad days, fall outs and almost break ups but just like adults, you two talked it through.

But now that Hoseok is so calm, you have started getting second thoughts. What if he is thinking of breaking it all up before he enlists, what if he doesn't wanna continue it, what if he isn't sure he would still be in love with you when he comes back after an entire year and half. A lot of "what ifs" cloud your mind and your eyes well up with tears.

"Hobi, please….. Please say something." You plead, nudging his side.

"Yeah, yeah… I should. I should say it." He says absentmindedly as he sits up on the bed, you follow. Your heart takes up an erratic pace out of fear.

"W-what is it?" You ask, voice quivering in fear.

"Y/N, I have been thinking of this for quite some time now. Um.. you can say this is the reason I didn't tell you about my enlistment." He faces you, eyes dancing around your face.

Your chest tightens. Is it what you think?

"As you know already, I only submitted the cancellation application, I have some time left before I enlist. So, I was thinking of getting a few things done. And one of those associates with you." He smiles easily.

"And that is…?" You press on.

"Let's.. ah! I don't know how to say it but let's just…" Hoseok fumbles and you wait patiently while fear eats you up.

"Break up?" You think in your mind.

"Let's get engaged, Y/N. I have had enough of you being my girlfriend now I need you to be my fiance, officially." He says in a breath, squeezing his eyes tight.

"Wh-WHAT??" You scream almost. Saying that you're shell shocked would be an understatement cause you couldn't even think of this coming.

"If you reject me, I understand. I know you're probably not ready. We've been together for just two years and the decision is rushed I know. But… but I just wanted to make you mine before I go. We can think of getting married later on. But… ah! Are you reject–" you cut him off by jumping on him and sealing his lips with yours.

He holds you steadily on his lap as you kiss him with every emotion you have in your soul. He kisses you back with just as much urgency. You part after a few moments and connect his forehead with yours.

"Let's get engaged, Hobi. I'm ready to be yours in every shape you want." A drop of happy tears rolls down your cheek.

"Really?" He asks

"Yes. Yes. Yes." You silent him again with another kiss, which he welcomes ever so willingly. Because he knows he will miss you and your kisses for these one and half years, way too much.

Sunshine | Remus Lupin

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ : you kiss remus and surprisingly he kisses you back.

ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴛᴀɢꜱ : fem!reader, good ole friends to lovers, kisses, fluff with a sprinkle of angst.

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ'ꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ :  originally this was written in September 2022. I remember this brought a smile on my face when I was writing this, i hope it does the same to you. 

.......

“This is quite intriguing. The protagonist here falls in the trap....” Remus continues rambling about the book he has just finished as you sit on the couch together reading your respective books.

You could have studied at your place only if your roommates Marlene and Mary were adult enough to understand the fact that they should keep the music volume down when someone is trying to study. 

Yeah, well that is just a made up reason, the truth is you wanted to spend your time with Remus because being around him is like being bathed in sun on a cold winter day. 

So you're here at Remus's and while you love listening to him talk, it's hard to do so at this moment. His eyes, twinkling bright with the excitement to tell you the climax of the story and you're feeling guilty that you can't concentrate because you're distracted, too distracted to actually pay attention.

There's something about him, something so enchanting that the more time you spend with him the more you feel drawn to him, like an invisible string pulling you to him. You, however, have always controlled your urge to just throw yourself at him.  But today, it seems like the universe is testing you and you're afraid you might fail this wretched test of your patience and not only universe, Lily too is to be blamed as well for your current predicament.

“Stop being a coward and just kiss him already,” she had told you when you shared your secret with her.

Should you actually do it? Should you really listen to Lily?

Your gaze flickers from the book to his lips as he speaks and before you know, You've pressed your lips against his.

You kissed him on whim and now it's too late to pull away and so you carry on to see how he'd react, a bit scared to lose what you both have but it's now or never.

Your heart drops in your stomach when he doesn't respond.

Regret bubbles in your stomach, how stupid move that was you realise. Maybe this is the end of your friendship. You've lost that one friend who understood you the way you always wished to be, That one person on this earth who liked you for what you are, who supported and comforted you in your bad days. You lost him and it's all your fault. Just because you couldn't control your fucking senses.

"I'm sorry I shouldn't have kissed you." You mumble, pulling away. Too embarrassed to meet his eyes, you look at your lap. That's why you miss the precious look on his face, he is anything but upset. In Fact he is flustered to know that you found him so endearing that you couldn't control yourself? Also because that's just what he was willing to do from so long, but couldn't gather courage to make a move. 

“Yes, you're right…” he says, and you feel like digging a hole on the spot and jump right in, however when you look up to him for the sake of forgiveness you catch him smiling at you. 

"...I should have." Remus sighs, before leaning closer to lock his lips with yours again.

the long way | yoon jeonghan

summary | it was just like any other shoot. go in, pose, drink water, don't get food on the clothes, and don't joke around with the staff. easy. except it wasn't that easy. genre | just fluff, model!jeonghan warnings | swearing (?), like one innuendo word count | 2.2k words pairing | yoon jeonghan x gn!reader min | lowercase intended @i-luvsang likes to torture me with this concept so here it is. you're welcome. i may have diverged a little from your original concept... i actually don't think there's any language in here. i tried to make this gender-neutral, but if anyone finds a fem!reader pronoun please let me know!

jeonghan liked his job. really, he did. what was there to complain about it? it was an easy, not to mention, fun life. he liked traveling. he liked the different foods he got to try. he liked the nice clothes he got to wear during photoshoots. he would be lying if he said he never stole some of the clothes that he got to wear. he especially enjoyed chatting with the staff.

they were usually amiable with him and entertained his antics. sometimes he even got a genuine laugh out of a few photographers too.

but sometimes, just chatting was boring. especially when the conversations were cut short by photographers calling him back to get a few more shots or make-up artists coming up to him to touch up his make-up. so jokes in between shots and lipstick touch-ups were a must.

today was no different. he had to advertise for the brand that he was an ambassador for, and he was thoroughly enjoying himself. the clothes were comfortable, the air temperature was just right, and his audience was readily accepting of his jokes.

half of the time he couldn't remember the point of his jokes. he just said whatever came to mind. sometimes he was monologuing his thoughts and people would laugh. it did boost his ego, though. his inner voice was funny enough to garner laughs without even trying

as jeonghan was setting up for another shot, the photographer asked him to fix his stance. "i need you to spread your legs a bit more, jeonghan," the photographer asked. jeonghan had worked with him a few times, so he felt comfortable cracking a slightly inappropriate joke. "wow, mingyu, i thought you'd ask me out on a date first. already trying to get between my legs," jeonghan chuckled, fixing his stance. mingyu only rolled his eyes and went back to adjusting his camera settings.

that joke got a few laughs.

but it was jeonghan. he needed at least seventy-five percent of the staff to laugh at least one of his jokes. what else was he supposed to do when he was there? stand there and look good, yes, but no.

besides, he needed to test his standup on a live unsuspecting audience.

so that's how the rest of the shoot went. jeonghan finding ways to make puns here and throw a few sexual innuendos there. he appeared to be a hit, and that's all he wanted.

that is until he made some half-assed joke that he didn't even think about when he heard something. something so.... attractive. a laugh. from someone who had not laughed at his jokes until the lamest one he had cracked all day. he glanced over his shoulder in the direction that he heard it and his eyes landed on you. you were covering your face with a hand while the other clutched a tray of drinks and a binder tucked under your arm.

he made eye contact and quirked an eyebrow at you. you instantly averted your gaze to the ground and fumbled around for your phone.

cute, he thought.

he needed to hear it again.

for the remaining hour on set he tried and tried to get to you laugh again, but much to his dismay you were on the phone for most of the time.

soon enough he was out of the clothes and into his regular day clothes. the stylist quickly removed the extravagant make-up, and he swiftly grabbed his bag so he could find you.

as he ran out of the dressing room and onto the set. he scanned the room in search of you, and caught a glimpse of your silhouette walking out the door toward the city and not toward the back where the cars were. "jeonghan, are you coming?" his manager called to him. "the car is waiting." jeonghan shook his head and watched as the door closed behind you. "i'm actually going to walk home today. this was the last activity scheduled today, right?" jeonghan stated. even if it wasn't the last thing he had to do today, he had more important things in mind.

"uh, yes, that's all. but are sure you want to walk alone?" his manager questioned.

"i think bringing people with me garners more attention than me just walking by myself," he shrugged. so with that he swung his coat over his shoulders, hat on head, and left the same way you went.

he saw the back of your head make its way through the surprisingly empty street. he checked his watch and realized that it was right before rush hour. he jogged to catch up with you.

he was so close to you now. he could probably reach out and grab your hand if he wanted to, but that would be weird. he didn't even know your name.

how could he even approach you? "hi i'm jeonghan. i thought your laugh was pretty-" wait was that too personal? too forward?

he was so deep in thought, he didn't notice the way you tensed up when he got too close. suddenly you whipped around, "are you following me?"

he paused with a wide-eyed look plastered on his face. this was not the way it was supposed to go. "well, yes. but, not- not in the weird way," he tried to clarify. he looked slightly frantic, he looked worried. you examined his distinctive features. "oh, mr. yoon. i didn't recognize you with your hat on," you laughed.

there it was.

"please, just jeonghan is fine," he assured.

"okay, just jeonghan."

ha, you were pretty witty too. he held out his hand for you to shake. "___," you introduced yourself.

amazing.

"are you on your way to anything important?" he asked after looking at you for a bit longer. you glanced down at your phone and around the street. "i was actually going back to the office to drop this off," you said motioning to the large file bag you held.

"i can accompany you, if you want," jeonghan offered. "if you're not too weirded out by me at this point."

"oh, no. i'm not weirded out. i'm just surprised. i mean, you are model. models i usually work with don't talk with staff much," you mentioned before starting off walking again. he followed quickly behind you. "so would you say i'm different from other models you've met," he asked playfully.

"yes i suppose. for one, models don't usually joke around on set as much as you do," you noted, glancing down at your phone hoping he wouldn't notice how he was making your heart speed up. "they're a bit too serious sometimes. you were nice though."

jeonghan felt a bit proud of that.

he filled the rest of the walk with pleasant conversation. lightly brushing against your arm. he got you to laugh about ten more times through the walk.

yes, he was counting.

you took him through the park and chatted

"well, this is me," you said standing in front of the large building. he looked up, and he instantly recognized the logo plastered on the door. "wait, you work for-" he started.

"yes, i work for the brand that you are an ambassador for," you giggled. "why else would i be at the shoot? did i not mention all the other models i've had to worked with?"

jeonghan was utterly baffled. "yes. i mean you did. i just, i don't know i wasn't really focused on that part. maybe you just wanted to see a handsome man like myself," he tried to recover.

"well, seeing handsome men like yourself is in my job description. i have to make sure our ambassadors are representing us well," you nudged his arm, and he felt like he could burst with joy.

"well i didn't expect someone as attractive as yourself would work for a place like corporate," he attempted at gaining his confidence back. it appeared to work.

you scoffed lightheartedly and looked away from him. "you flatter me too much, jeonghan," you laughed and looked back at him. suddenly you heard your name being called. "___! there you are, i've been looking for you for the past hour," your co-worker (well more like friend since you had known her since forever) called. you glanced between her and jeonghan. "hey, i'm sorry. i got a little - distracted," you explained apologetically to your obviously frazzled friend.

"really, its my fault. i must've made the walk a bit slower. the park was just so nice today," jeonghan commented, glancing at you hoping that you would look back at him again.

"the park? that's the long way around, you could've taken-" your friend started before you clasped your hands on her shoulders. "well, i seriously do have to bring this back to my manager. thank you for walking with me, it was very kind of you," you said smiling at him.

"of course," he smiled. he held your eyes for a moment before you chuckled quietly and turned away with your friend. "goodbye," he called after you.

"bye," you replied back, only turning your head slightly towards him. you exchanged hushed whispers as the two of you made your way up to the entrance. "isn't that yoon jeonghan?" your friend quizzed. "he's the one who was at the shoot you went to, right? why'd you take him through the park? you know that's the long way. it adds like fifteen minutes to your walk."

"yeah, yeah, i know, he was just so easy to talk to. i needed an excuse to talk to him longer. plus, his laugh was super cute," you remarked.

it had been maybe an hour or two since you had said your goodbye to jeonghan downstairs. you hadn't been able to stop thinking about him. how sweet and kind he was. he wasn't too full of himself like some of the other models were, but confident enough to make your heart beat a bit faster than usual. to top it all off, he was genuinely funny too.

you weren't exactly sure how you were supposed to just - forget about him. you worked with many models for the past few years, and sure most of them were nice. just not as nice as jeonghan.

you checked the clock and realized that there were only about thirty minutes left until you could clock out. maybe if you showered when you got home you could get jeonghan's cologne out of your senses.

as you sent your last email of the day and logged out of your computer, you began to gather your things from your desk. unfortunately, you were a bit too preoccupied to notice how the room outside of your office stilled. you were grabbing a few things that fell onto the floor.

then you heard someone clear their throat from your door. "uh, ___, someone is here to see you," one of your other co-workers said.

"uh, i just clocked out, but i can definitely add them on my calendar first thing tomorr-" you trailed off as you lifted your head and saw jeonghan standing outside your office behind the very nervous-looking receptionist.

"i'm afraid that won't work for me," jeonghan sighed absentmindedly looking around your office, hands clasped behind his back.

"mina, you can go," you told the receptionist. mina nodded and ran off. jeonghan stepped into your office and gently closed the door. "this is a surprise, mr. yoon," you said standing up.

"hopefully a welcome one," he joked. "and please, i was gone for a couple hours and you forgot i'm just jeonghan?" you stifled a laugh. "please do not feel like you need to contain you laughter from me, ___," he assured. you nodded a silent, but happy, agreement. "well, jeonghan. what is the occasion for this visit? were you unhappy with something today during the shoot?" you asked, approaching him. "and if tomorrow morning does not work to discuss this matter, i can figure something else out or i-"

"no. it's actually the opposite. i had a great time today. i think my only complaint is that you have not been there for the past few times i've modeled for this brand," he said getting closer to you. you could smell his cologne again and you knew you were in for it. "also, tomorrow morning won't work because i wanted to see if you were free tonight to get dinner with me, that is, unless you prefer breakfast," he smiled.

you were dumbfounded.

jeonghan was here. after hours. asking you out on a date. he was funny, kind, and not to mention quite attractive. you had been thinking about him for the whole day daydreaming about him, and he was here looking very handsome and very sincere. and who were you to decline such a tempting offer?

"how would you know that i would say yes?" you asked as the two of you walked out of the building.

"well for one, you didn't take the subway like a normal person would. secondly, you added a whole extra fourteen minutes to your walk because you skipped the subway and went through the park," he shrugged.

"were you counting?" you giggled and nudged his shoulder playfully.

"and what if i was? and what if i was counting every time you laughed at something i said today? what if i said that was the fifteenth time i've made you laugh today?"

"i might have to kiss you then."

"please do."

min | wow. that was sort of disgustingly cute. am i good a fluff, maybe? im softening with age i think. leave feedback and reblog if you want! it's appreciated. not proofread

pink sapphire

pairing: jungkook x reader

wordcount: 11k

glimpse: having jungkook for a husband is great as far as arranged marriages could go; he’s easy to love. your relationship’s perhaps become so easy that jungkook doesn’t think sometimes — and that’s what makes it the easiest for you to hate him.

alternatively, you and jungkook married each other for business, but the both of you stay for love.

[ angst, arranged marriage au, fluff n really wholesome scenes (it cancels out the angst i swear), Jungkook Tries Hard (affectionate), miscommunication, jealousy, self-deprecation, sexual innuendos (no actual smut here!!), did i already say that jungkook tries rlly hard and is remorseful the whole time ]

notes: my year-ender fic for 2022 :) thank u for being here — i’m grateful for all ur love n support!! i’ll see u in the next one <3

as always, lmk what you think <3 send in feedback n love to my askbox anytime!!

Keep reading

A Castle on Fire

A/N: This is my first Tumblr post 🎉

Pairing: James Potter x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: Making out against a wall. A tiny bit of angst if you squint. Curse words. Use of Y/n (because I can't in good conscience use pronouns too many times in a row).

Summary: When James and the reader find themselves in similar situations with stalkers, it only makes sense they'd help each other.

masterlist.

"Oi!"

Her hair smacked her in the face as she whipped around to face the source of the call. "What the-"

James Potter, the arrogant idiot, scrambled around the corner, barreling straight into her, screeching as they toppled over and landed in a heap on the cold, hard floor.

She groaned. Despite not having taken the brunt of the fall, she certainly hadn't expected it—neither the appearance of her classmate nor the bruising trip to the ground. Nothing, however, was worse than the bruises sustained to James' ego.

"Bloody hell, Potter! Get off me!"

He clambered up, muttering repeated apologies and offering her an awkward smile as he held out his hand.

She glanced up at him and took it, mumbling a small 'thanks' as he pulled her up and picked up the bag that she had dropped, holding it out to her.

"Yeah- no- uh-" he rubbed the back of his neck, "it was my fault anyway...least I could do."

"Hm." She took her bag back, slinging it over her shoulder. "And what exactly had you running like the castle was on fire?"

"Ah, yes. That." He suddenly seemed back on high alert, glancing furtively behind him at the corner he had just rounded. "Just, uh...exercising! You know, running around the...empty...hallways..." His face fell.

She frowned, "Huh. Well, I'd recommend you take your 'exercising' outside where you won't go running into anyone else."

"Yeah...uh, thanks."

She turned to walk away but stopped short. "Before I go that way, is it safe? Prank-less, I mean?"

"Hm? Oh, um, yeah! You're fine."

"Alright then," she offered him a tight-lipped smile, "I'll see you around, Potter."

"Yeah, you too."

She nearly made it around the corner when he called her name, yelling for her to wait.

"What?"

James hesitated, "I- Can you help me? Please?"

Looking back at him, she raised an eyebrow, "How?"

"Great!" He seemed to brighten considerably. "You know that weird Ravenclaw?"

"Which one? Goldstein or Greenway?"

"Greenway."

"Yeah, sure, she's my potions partner-" she paused for a moment to mutter to herself, something about needing a new partner, before continuing, "-Why?"

"She's tried to ask me out a couple of times now and, well, she's following me."

"Uh, following you?"

"Yeah! She, uh, she saw me before I saw her, so I ran, but she's apparently really dedicated to her cause...which happens to be talking to me."

"Oh."

Their heads turned as footsteps grew closer.

James cursed. "Please?"

She'd never heard the famed James Potter, Gryffindor hero, plead with anyone before, let alone someone like herself, so now she stood there, somewhat at a loss for words.

He reached out and held onto her upper arm, pulling her attention back to him. "Please."

"Fine. but I swear, Potter, if I hear a single word about this around the school-"

"Okay, okay! Yeah, I don't need to hear about how you'd cut me up into little pieces or whatever, I get it!" He raised his hands in surrender, motioning that his lips were sealed.

With that, she stepped up to him and grabbed his Gryffindor tie, pulling him down to her level and pressing her lips against his.

He tensed a little as the world seemed to slow around him, but only for a moment, because a second later, she was pushed up against the wall, his hands gripping her hips and her body flush against his. Her bag fell off her shoulder, landing on the ground with a thump they both ignored. Her hands moved up into his hair, pulling at the back strands, prompting a muffled little moan into her mouth.

She grinned against his lips, barely aware of the squeak of frustration assumedly from James' Ravenclaw admirer.

Neither cared.

She took a small, sharp intake of breath as his cold hands slipped just under the brim of her blouse, tracing patterns on her skin. He took the opportunity to trail his kisses along her jawline, down to her neck. Her head leaned slightly off to the side, granting him more access he didn't hesitate to take.

It was only when he found her sweet spot and she found herself letting out little, breathy moans, that she snapped back into reality.

Her eyes snapped open and she had a moment of internal panic. She quickly pulled back, "I- I'm sorry. I can't."

James frowned softly, "Hey, it's okay-"

"I'm sorry."

She only barely noticed the hurt expression flash across his face as she grabbed her bag and slipped out of his grasp, leaving around the corner almost as quickly as he'd come, though luckily there was nobody for her to run into.

He stood there in the corridor, watching after her, half hoping she'd turn around and come back to him. He ran a hand through his more ruffled-up than usual hair and fell back to lean on the wall where he'd had her mere moments ago.

He sighed, head hanging low.

The next morning at breakfast, James stared wistfully across at the Slytherin table where he knew she'd sit. She always sat there.

"-James!"

His head snapped around to face his friends, all of whom were staring at him with incredulous looks as if he'd grown a second head overnight.

"What?" he muttered defensively.

"Look, mate," Sirius sighed, "You've been off since yesterday! What is wrong with you?"

"Nothing's wrong with me!" he argued.

"James I'm serious-" in the background, Sirius piped up with a 'me too!' but Remus continued unaffected, "-did something happen?" He glanced over at where James' gaze drifted to every couple of seconds. Remus frowned, "Is someone bothering you?"

"What?! No!" James exclaimed, suddenly dragged right back into reality.

"Alright then! Didn't mean to offend you, mate." Remus rolled his eyes as he turned back to his book.

Sirius blabbered on, but James tuned it out as his gaze finally fell on her.

"Really, Cissa, I'm fine!" She smacked her friend's hand away from her packet of muggle candy.

"Are you sure?" Narcissa frowned, "You know you can tell me anything, right?"

Y/n smiled, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder, "I'm fine. I promise."

"Okay then," Cissa smiled back.

The girls raced to take seats at the Slytherin table, Narcissa beating her friend by mere milliseconds.

"Fuck you."

"You too."

They giggled, piling breakfast onto their plates.

Narcissa bit into a waffle, "What do you have first? Charms?"

"Mhm," Lucius affirmed, ruffling both of their hair as he passed them to sit on Narcissa's other side.

"Morning!" Bellatrix flopped down in the last available spot, practically draping herself across her friend's lap.

"Get off me, Bells." Y/n pushed the girl's legs off of her lap.

"No." Bella put them right back up.

Y/n rolled her eyes.

At the Gryffindor table, Sirius looked between his best mate and the Slytherin girl suspiciously. "What did she do?"

"Hm? Who?" James watched as she stole a strip of bacon from Bellatrix's plate, earning a smack on the arm.

"Y/n."

James sharply glanced at his friend, "What? No- Wait- Nothing! Why would you-"

"Because you keep staring at her!"

"I do not!"

"Do too!"

"Do not!"

"Do too!"

"Do. Not."

"DO TOO!"

"Please-" Remus slammed his book closed, leaning his head in his hands, "-not this early in the morning."

"Sorry, Remus." "Sorry, Remus."

Bellatrix, Y/n and Lucius stood from their table, bidding their younger friends goodbye and leaving the Great Hall. The girls took a plate of bacon with them, snacking as they walked.

"Did you hear?" Bellatrix grinned.

"Hear what?" Her interest was easily piqued.

"My idiot cousin and his friends are planning some grand prank or whatever. They're sneaking out tonight."

Her friend had a mischievous glint in her eye.

She frowned, "And?"

"Aaand-" she walked with a skip in her step, "-I was thinking about causing a bit of trouble." She smirked.

"Bella," Lucius spoke with a warning tone.

"What? I just want to cause a little mayhem! The Lestranges are coming. You joining us?"

"No thanks," Y/n shook her head.

"Oh, come on! You're not going soft, are you?" she hissed.

"Bells, really, I-"

The crazy witch cackled, "Little baby Y/n. Can't handle a wittle fun? Aww."

"Enough." Lucius was done. He took his friend's hand and led her to the charms classroom ahead of the insane girl. He sat them at a table with only two seats, "Whoops, sorry, Bella."

Bellatrix scowled, plunking down at the table in the next row alone. "Killjoys," she grumbled under her breath.

"You alright?" he muttered to her softly as they pulled out their books.

She offered him a weak smile, "I'm fine."

He took her hand beneath the desk, giving it a little squeeze of reassurance. She smiled. Genuinely.

It was at this moment the door slammed open and in waltzed the Marauders, boisterous as always (probably scheming).

It was also at this moment that James happened to glance at Y/n...and her hand intertwined with Malfoy's.

He frowned.

Y/n and Lucius spoke in hushed tones, leaning on the desk and toward each other, hands still linked on top of the table.

James' anger only grew as he saw how Malfoy traced patterns on her hand, and could only think of how he had done so the other day and the delicious breathy moans he had drawn from her.

"Oi, James!" Sirius yelled across the room, waving him over with a 'wtf' expression.

It bothered him even more that she hadn't paid him any attention, even as Sirius screamed his name so near her.

There was only one thing to do. He walked purposely behind her chair, brushing his fingers across the exposed skin on her neck, sending shivers down her spine.

She glanced back at him, only just catching the end of his smirk.

"Watch it, Potter," she snapped.

He hid his hurt behind a grin as he slid into the chair between a snickering Sirius and his exasperated, sandy-haired friend.

As class started, she could still feel his eyes on her. She looked, just once, but once was enough for him.

He smiled.

Later that day, Y/n sat alone in potions class. Greenway was late, not that she cared at all for her company. Actually, she despised it.

"Partner." She was greeted as someone sat beside her.

"What the hell, Potter?"

He shrugged, flipping to the page written up on the chalkboard, "You said you needed a better potions partner, so here I am."

"What? When did I-"

"Yesterday." He glanced up at her, "I do actually pay attention to you."

"Oh."

"Good afternoon," Professor Slughorn entered the classroom, ambling up to the chalkboard. "If you'll open up to the page indicated on the board, you'll find instructions for how to make antidote to veritaserum. I expect a perfect vial on my desk by next lesson. Get to work!"

Y/n and James began working in silence. It surprised her- she'd expected him to be more annoying.

"Here," James leaned over to her side of the desk, wrapping his hand over hers and guiding her knife.

"...thanks." She smiled. Just a little.

"Yeah." He rubbed the back of his neck as he stepped back, trying to avoid eye contact.

She hesitated, then spoke up, "Hey, James?"

He sighed, "What? I mean, clearly you don't like me, so why don't we just work in silence, yeah?"

"What? James..." she trailed off, searching for the right words, "I didn't mean to-" she sighed, "Look, I just wanted to warn you about Bella."

"Why?" He frowned.

"Bellatrix is in a mischief-making mood and you lot are in her sights. I don't know what she's going to do, but I do know her. She's...for lack of a better word, insane. Just be careful tonight, okay?"

"Are you...worried about me, Y/n?"

She laughed half-heartedly, "In your dreams, Potter."

He smiled softly, "Thanks, Y/n."

—————

"Fuck!"

Thud.

"Shit, shit, shit!"

Y/n sprinted across the lawn directly towards the Black Lake, tie half hanging out of her bag after being stuffed in there with her homework when she left the library in a hurry.

"Castle on fire?"

She came to a stop. Catching her breath, she looked over at James who was sitting under a nearby willow.

"Might as well be," she chuckled and pushed her hair from her face, "Sorry, can't stop to chat."

"Where are you going?" he yelled after her.

"Forest!"

He bolted upright, grabbing his things and running after her.

"What are you doing?"

He laughed, "I'm not letting you go in there alone."

"I can take care of myself, you know?"

"I know."

"Y/n, darling!"

Her eyes widened, "Bloody hell."

"Who is-"

"Fucking McLaggen."

James frowned, "What does he want?"

"Imagine Greenway, but make it a McLaggen kind of creepy," she scoffed.

"Oh," he stopped, "Well c'mere then."

"What-"

He took her gently by the arm and pulled her to his chest. Before she could say anything, he leant down and kissed her.

She gasped softly against his lips. It didn't take long for her to get wrapped up in it, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

"I knew you liked me," he muttered between kisses.

"Shut up." She grabbed him, pulling him back in, indeed shutting him up before he could speak again.

choi san as boyfriend headcanon please ❤️❤️

SAN BOYFRIEND HCS ♡‧ ⁺彡

✧ Summary- just some hc about San in a relationship

✧ Warnings- nothing really, some suggestive stuff, stuff about crying, arguing

✧ A/N- There was like five requests for him so finally. Here it goes. Have a great day :) enjoy! (Not really proof read)

Type of Hugger- tight hugs, like he’ll hold you so tightly you’ll have to remind him that you need to breath. When doing back hugs he’s the type to rest his head in the crook of your neck and his hands are either playing with your pants strings or the hem of your shirt. Sometimes even just in your shirt, he finds warmth there. His hugs can be very random. Like he’ll just pull you in, in the most random times. It just hits him that you exist and is his so he just feels suddenly affectionate. So he’ll pull you in a bit of an aggressive way and just hold you. Either way he does the thing Where he tries to lay his head on your shoulder/neck. He’s just comfortable around you like that. It’s a very comforting hug.

Type of Kisser- definitely a pecker. Like his hugs, he’ll randomly peck you or kiss you. Either way you turn out flustered. He loves getting that reaction. He’s can be pretty fast paced (not all the time), but makeouts would be pretty sloppy and quick. He’ll do that thing where he starts kissing your jawline, then your neck and it just keeps going lower. He’ll also randomly stop to stare at you, smile, then continue kissing you. The type to grab your chin, smirk, pause in the feeling, then kiss you again.

Type of Comfort- he’s the type to reassure you. Like while crying he’ll talk a lot of comforting words and soft “shhhhh’s” not shushing you but just a way of calming you down or a small hum, yk. Just to remind you that he’s there and it’s going to be okay. He holds you, letting you crying into his shoulder while rubbing your back and kissing your forehead. “It’s okay love, I’m right here” and he always is.

Arguments- hate to say it but my dude could be pretty dramatic in them 😭. He’ll probably say what he’s gotta say, I don’t see him as the type to go too far, but he’ll go what he needs to go. And if you end up crying, he’ll force himself to stop. He’ll try to be understanding and hear you out. Then he’ll comfort you while apologizing even if it’s not his fault. (He can be pretty petty though) it’s can also turn Into angry sex, but that’s another story ;). He’s very vocal about his problems and if you happen to disagree and argue, he’ll argue. Though he hates them when they are serious, he can be pretty impulsive, so he’ll argue ignoring how he feels, but he’s also sensitive so he might end up crying as well. Especially if it’s really bad. So don’t take it too far with him either.

HC

-can be very flirty but also very soft. Depends on his mood

-he gets jealous, depending on his mood is how it will go. He can be either whiny after or more dominant.

-he’ll pull you close, taking you away from the dude who’s making him jealous, kissing your neck as his hands rest on your waist. “Sorry, but me and my girlfriend have somewhere to be”

-if in a whiny time, it will most likely be after the situation, like at home or if its someone he’s close to like a member. Either way, he’s pulling you away, but it will go more. “Y/nnnn. You’ve barely talked to me. Do you like wooyoung more?” Knowing damn well you’ve spent the entire day with him.

-he loves you and is obsessed with you but In a clingy way. So he shows it to you and will let you know it.

-he’ll cling onto you 24/7

-never letting you go

-soft praises

-hypes you the fuck up though

-like will show you off, especially to the members. pulls a “She looks hot right? Well she’s only mine”

-no shame, he will be affectionate in front of his members.

-waist grabs are a must

-he always touching you, trust

-always having a hand on you. If not holding hands, he has it on your thigh, waist, back etc.

-manhandles the fucks out of you man

-loves how nervous you get with the slightest touch. Loves making you blush and flustered.

-teases you 24/7. Lives for that shit

-he’s the type to have those loving stares. Like you’ll be cooking, washing dishes, reading etc and he’ll just be smiling, staring. You’ll have to move his face for him to stop

-the type to ask a kiss if you want something. “Wanna try my food? Give me a kiss first”

-type to truly always be there. Like no matter what. If he’s at work and you are truly having a hard time, he’ll leave work early or beg his members to let him take the day off.

-truly an amazing boyfriend

DRIVE-IN — LEE SEOKMIN ࿐

summary. seokmin takes you on a date to the drive-in theater, but you’d rather do something else in his car than watch the movie.

wc. 1.5k

warnings. switch!reader & switch!seok, lots of teasing, dry humping, desperate simp!seokmin, slight exhibitionism (? they’re in the car in a parking lot), brief mention of breeding kink, very slight baby talk at the end.

note. i hope this doesn’t read weird lmfao 😭 thoughts have been heavy abt him and i think he'd love the drive in and other cute old-fashioned dates

“you love me, don’t you, baby?” you ask, body leaning over the center console of his nice, spacious car. your voice is just above a whisper, lips pressed against the shell of his ear. 

his car sits in the parking lot of the drive-in theater. he suggested it for a cute date night since the two of you haven’t seen each other due to conflicting schedules.

and, yeah, it would’ve been cute if you weren’t so undeniably turned on by the sight of him in jeans and a white button-up. and fuck him for wearing that shirt when he knows it makes you feral. you now could care less about the stupid horror film on the screen when he’s right next to you looking unfairly handsome as always. you decided, bored and uncomfortably wet in the passenger seat of his car, to tease him instead. 

no longer paying attention to the gore on the screen, seokmin nods his head at your question and allows his eyes to flutter closed, breath hitching at the sultry tone of your pretty, pretty voice. the same one you use when you’re feeling insatiable. the same one that always makes blood rush to his cock. the very same that had him falling head over heels in love with you the second he heard it. 

his voice comes out thick, yet all the same reassuring, “yeah, you know i love you, baby.”

and you do. you do know, but hearing him say it makes you feel even more hungry. needy. the sense of confirmation makes you thrive. “yeah?” you ask, smirking against him as you find his thick thigh, squeezing what you can in your much smaller hand. “you’d do anything for me?”

his eyes nearly roll when your lips start to move down, soft, wet kisses placed on his jaw. “anything.” he whispers, unable to trust his voice. 

you hum, “anything?”

“anything.” he reiterates, louder this time and you nearly giggle at the way his voice wavers. 

it is the truth, though. he would give you the moon if you asked for it, which is one of the many reasons why you love him so much. you know he’d do anything to keep you happy, and you do the same for him. it’s how and why you work. 

“really?” you tease, lips curving up into a smile against his smooth skin. “so, if i wanted to cum a hundred times, would you help me?”

the thought is implausible and he knows you’re exaggerating, but he still jerks gently under your hand. “fuck,” he mutters. “‘course i would, baby.”

your hand slowly slides up to his cock covered by the rough denim of his jeans. you slowly palm over him, feeling just how hard he is just by the sound of your voice. “and… say i wanted to make you cum a hundred times, would you let me?”

you swear you hear the whimper die in his throat before he speaks up, stuttering a breathy, “y-yeah.”

“yeah?” 

he throws his head back when you press him harder, “fuck, yeah.”

“would you fuck me now if i asked you to?” you press, lips moving to his neck. “cum in me? fill me up with all of you?”  you question, your own voice getting pitchy at the beautiful thought. you pull your head back and smile at the sight of him innocently, rubbing him with more force. “would you let me ride you, seok?” 

“shit, anything you fucking want, angel.” he gasps, back arching at the pleasure before grabbing your wrist, and pulling you to the driver's seat with him. “i’d literally kill for you. now c’mere, come ride me.”

“seokmin,” you giggle, climbing over the center console before mounting over him. once comfortably seated, you press your chest against him before experimentally rolling your body against his. “you’d kill for me? so chivalrous.” your hands grip his shoulders and you bite your lip at the shockwaves his covered bulge sends through your body.

he groans at your teasing, leaning in to shut you up by roughly pressing his lips to yours. his hands find your hips and he guides you against him, moving your body in a needy matter. 

your hips move faster and faster against one another, moaning into each other's mouths desperately. you’re sure there’s a wet patch on his jeans from your honeyed arousal where it's soaked through your own panties– or maybe it’s his precum– but he doesn’t seem to mind as he’s grinding his crotch against your aching, clothed pussy with vigor and desire.

you break from the kiss out of breath, letting your forehead rest against his, “c-can you cum like this?” you ask breathily– much too pretty for how embarrassingly close seokmin is from releasing in his pants like a teenager.

as much as you want to fuck him, you can’t seem to stop moving your hips as you’re getting closer and closer to completely letting go. 

“i-i can…” seokmin pants, heavy eyes opening to see your eyebrows knitted together and your mouth open in pleasure. “c-can you?”

“mhm, feels too good, seok, can’t stop,” you whine. “‘m so close…”

seokmin groans lowly, squeezing your hips harder and bucking up into you faster. you’re sure if the car wasn’t shaking before, it definitely was now and even with the tinted windows, everyone in the parking lot would know what was happening inside. 

that was the last thing on his mind, though. “god, me too, baby,” he moans, feeling his abdomen tense up. “so fucking close all ‘cuz of you.”

you whine out his name at that, panting out your next words, “please cum for me, seokmin, wanna see you cum.” 

your breathy voice has always been irresistible to him. he can’t even try to protest, cumming as soon as you ask with a bruising grip and a string of curses and ‘baby’s’ on the tip of his tongue. his cock twitches in his confined jeans as his seed seeps through his boxers and creates an even darker patch on the blue denim. 

you grind through his orgasm and you watch him with lidded eyes. his contorted face and his pretty voice make the knot tighten in your belly. the friction of his denim jeans feels so delicious that you’re just about to fall apart. you just need a little push. 

seokmin knows you like the back of his hand, though, and he understands you’re close– he can see it– he can feel it. 

coming down from his high, he pants, “so fucking pretty, you know that? my pretty girl… all mine, i’d do anything for you,” he keeps you moving, though he’s starting to feel a bit overstimulated– he needs to see you come undone on top of him. 

his words shake you. “s-seokmin!” you gasp, your orgasm creeps up on you and you can nearly taste it. 

“that’s it, angel, cum for me…” he says, voice wavering as he feels himself grow hard under you again. “promise ‘m gonna take you home and fuck you so full, might even give you a baby so you know i’d do anything for you.”

and that just about does it for you. you grip his shoulders tight as the tightrope unravels, throwing your head back and arching as you soak your panties further with your syrupy release. “fuh-fuck! s-seokmin,” you all but mewl, tears of pleasure clouding your vision. 

he helps you ride out your high, slowing with each buck of your hips till you’re left writhing and shaking in his lap with a post-orgasm haze looming over your features. 

after a few more minutes of recovering and letting your breathing return to normal, you look at him with doe eyes. “y-you wanna give me a baby?” you stutter. 

his face feels hot and he’s thankful that it’s dark so you can’t see the blush spreading over his face. he hadn’t actually meant to say it even though it’s been something he’s been thinking about for a while and he knows it’s been on your mind too. 

“well, no– i mean, not no, but… um,” he stumbles over his words awkwardly and you can’t fight the smile that etches onto your face. “i just mean… we should talk about it… i do want to have one with you. i want a life with you. i want everything with you… if that’s what you want.”

you laugh before pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “of course, it’s what i want. i want everything with you, too, baby.” you mutter against his lips. “when you said that, it was really hot, by the way, holy shit.” you giggle, head falling on his shoulder to hide your embarrassed face as you remember.

he laughs, too, wrapping his arms around your waist and holding you in a hug. “we missed, like, half of the movie, hope you’re happy.” he says, looking at the screen through the slightly foggy windshield. 

“‘s okay, i think it was worth it.” you mumble into his neck, smiling to yourself. “and… if it’s any consolation… i’d kill for you, too.”

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