Teach Me [Eddie Munson X Fem!Reader]

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Will: um I've noticed you've been avoiding me recently-

Mike:

this is the best representation of internalised homophobia we ever got in media you can't change my mind

Overheard (TASM!PeterParker x Reader)

Summary: A moan—soft and quiet and muffled by closed glass, but very clearly coming from the other side of the velvety curtains that were blocking his view into your room. Shit. Peter gulped. Did you have a guy over? He hadn't known you'd been seeing anyone, and the thought of his best friend rolling around in the sheets with a guy he hadn't even met somehow set a flame of something ablaze in the pit of his stomach.

Words: 1.7k

A/N: lots of cursing, non-graphic but includes unseen masturbation, sexual innuendo, flirty best friends, making out & implied sex; college-aged characters

Peter's feet landed firmly on the rickety metal of your fire escape; perhaps a bit too firmly, the rusted metal creaking dangerously beneath him. He frowned—your apartment was old and rundown, but, as you mentioned each time he expressed his concerns, it was rent-controlled and much better than your childhood home in "Bumfuck Nowhere" as you so affectionally called your hometown.

He'd texted you just minutes earlier before leaving his place—it was several blocks away, but the trip was quick when superhuman agility and web-shooters were involved, so he slipped his phone out of the back pocket of his jeans and checked to see if you'd replied—you hadn't.

Your curtains were drawn, which was odd. Peter knew you loved the way the sunlight filtered between the buildings and seeped into your bedroom, creating a small patch of warmth right where you'd placed that ratty old wingback chair you'd made him carry home from the Salvation Army for you. Plus, your window faced nothing but a crumbling brick wall and you claimed to love the aesthetic of urban decay.

Even if you hadn't seen his text, you'd presumably heard him landing outside your window, but the curtains remained opaque.

Peter was about halfway through processing the thought of possibly using the regular entrance to your apartment—he had a key, after all, though he'd never needed one—when he heard a sound that made his heart skip a beat and his cheeks turn deep crimson.

A moan—soft and quiet and muffled by closed glass, but very clearly coming from the other side of the velvety curtains that were blocking his view into your room.

Shit. Peter gulped. Did you have a guy over? He hadn't known you'd been seeing anyone, and the thought of his best friend rolling around in the sheets with a guy he hadn't even met somehow set a flame of something ablaze in the pit of his stomach.

Another moan, this one a little more desperate. Peter felt gross all of a sudden, but found himself frozen to the spot, overthinking the situation, as he chronically did when it came to you. It was something that couldn't be helped—he might have had super strength, but you were enough to make his knees go weak.

Still, this was invasive. It was weird. He would throw twenty-one questions at you later, when you weren't...doing whatever and whoever it was you were doing at that moment. Swallowing that odd little feeling the was clawing up his throat, Peter turned to go, but ice flooded through his veins at the next noise he heard.

Peter.

His name. Your voice. There was no doubt about it. What the fuck?

Peter allowed himself to listen, really listen, and his ears pricked at the sounds no other person would be able to hear from his current spot. The shuffle of skin writhing on soft sheets, the irregularity of quickened breath, a heartbeat like a hammer.

A heartbeat—just one. Besides his own, of course, which was currently going wild pulsing in his ears. You were alone in there. Alone with your thoughts and your fingers and his name on your lips.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

Now he really had to go. The jealousy—for that was what it was—that had reared its ugly head only moments earlier had quickly shifted to something like excitement, a deep thrill, chased by a pang of shame that he had accidentally intruded on your most intimate of moments. You would absolutely murder him if you found out he'd been—

F-fuck. P—peter. It was a whimper this time, a barely there gasp.

His jeans suddenly felt tighter. Okay. He could do this. He'd slip away from the fire escape, walk around the block once, and then use the front entrance for the first time ever. That wasn't suspicious at all. He'd just stroll up the six flights of stairs to your floor, knock casually at your door, you'd pull yourself together and...well, no harm, no foul.

Peter nodded to himself and zoomed away as quietly as he could manage.

Meanwhile, coming down from a blissful high in your rumpled sheets, you reached toward your bedside table for your phone, eyes growing wide when you saw an unread message from Peter.

Just finished studying for Bio. Be there in 5.

It had been received 12 minutes ago and you knew when Peter said 5 minutes, he meant 3. Barring some psycho trying to burn New York to the ground, he'd arrived on your fire escape anywhere from 7 to 9 minutes ago when you'd been—

A knock at the door interrupted your train of thought and you blanched, all colour draining from your face as you rushed to throw on a pair of yoga shorts and an old t-shirt—for fucks sake, why were the only t-shirts in arm's reach ones you'd borrowed from Peter?

You knew it was him before you opened the door—no one else came to visit you. And if he was using the front door it meant he'd been detoured from using the fire escape window and that meant—jesus christ, it meant he'd heard you getting off to the thought of him.

"Hi," you breathed, trying to play it cool as you swung the door open to reveal Peter's face. He looked guilty as sin. He hadn't even been able to keep his secret identity from you, much less something as ridiculous as overhearing you masturbating.

"Hi," Peter replied, entering as you made space for him in the doorway. He avoided your gaze and your own eyes slid over his body, noting the way he faced away from you, hands hovering awkwardly near his crotch.

"Since when do you use the front door?" you asked lightly, closing and relatching the entrance in question. Peter shrugged, settling himself on your sofa—another piece courtesy of the thrift store. Initially, he'd hated the thing, but you'd restuffed the cushions to get the lumps out and now it smelled like you—vanilla and shortbread and old books and familiarity. It had even been christened with a tomato sauce stain from when he'd brought over Aunt May's lasagna that had never fully come out, even after two years.

"How was studying?" you asked, puttering uselessly around the kitchen and ignoring the heat on your cheeks, the odd fluttering in your stomach.

"Not bad," Peter answered, "I'll ace the test." You made a noise of acknowledgement in your throat. Of course he would—he was the smartest person you knew. "What have you been up to?"

Posing the question, it was the first time Peter met your eye since arriving, twisting himself to look over at you. There was mischief in his eyes, a daring look that said I know perfectly well what you were up to and I bet you won't tell me.

You decided to give him a run for his money. "I was thinking about that time we went to the beach last summer," you said coyly, a smirk tugging up at the corners of your lips, "Remember when we got so wasted we thought skinny dipping was a good idea?"

Peter half-laughed, half-gulped, his Adam's apple bobbing prominently in his throat. "I remember," he said, "I was scratching sand out of god forsaken places for days."

"Pete," you chuckled, "There's not a single god forsaken place on your body."

That turned him red—good. There was a beat of silence and before you could blink, he had you pressed between his body and the cold laminate countertop. Damn superhero abilities.

"I could say the same for you, Y/N." His lips were hovering just over yours and from the way his hips rested against you, you could feel a bulge pressing into your abdomen. Part of you wondered if you'd fallen into a post-orgasm dreamworld, but Peter's familiar scent grounded you, reminded you that this was all very real.

"You heard, didn't you?" you whispered, not breaking eye contact. Peter licked his lips, nodded once.

"I did," he confirmed, faltering for a moment, blinking as shame pained his beautiful features, "I'm sorry—I didn't—"

"Don't apologize," you said, hooking your fingers through the belt loops of his jeans and pulling him closer—if that were possible. "It's okay. It's...good." There, you'd put it out into the world. Your move, Parker.

"Yeah?" Peter's pupils had dilated and he'd leaned forward to press his forehead to your own. You swallowed thickly. He was as into this game as you were.

"Yeah," you repeated, "Because now I can do this." You kissed him, pushing yourself up onto your tiptoes to meet his lips. It wasn't the first time you'd kissed your best friend—not by a long shot—but it was the first time you'd kissed him like this, like your entire existence depended on it. He responded in kind, thumb coming up to caress your cheek as he deepened the kiss. He pressed himself further into you, using one had to lift you up onto the countertop. That in itself as enough to make you groan—he was so strong.

Peter settled himself between your thighs, kissing you with abandon, allowing his tongue to swirl against your own, pausing only to nip at your bottom lip, kiss along your jaw, bite gently on your ear lobe. For their part, your own hands skidded along his muscular arms, coming to rest on his shoulders and then at the nape of his neck, tugging at his mussed hair and eliciting a noise of approval from him. You found that you liked it very much and wondered what other noises you could get him to make.

Peter broke his lips away from you for a moment, the sheer willpower of such a pause making him light-headed. "You sounded so pretty," he said, "With my name on your lips."

Your mouth made a little "o" as you blushed deeply, the comment somehow innocent and lewd all at once. "Well," you replied, gathering yourself, "I hope you'll do me the kindness of letting me hear the same from you." The thought of your name falling from his lips in ecstasy had you shifting in your seat for some friction.

Peter smiled wickedly, "Oh, Y/N, I'll do you any kindness you want."

˜”*°•.˜”*°• 𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗿𝘆 𝗽𝗼𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗳𝗶𝗰𝘀 •°*”˜.•°*”˜

🤍 - fluff

🖤 - angst

marauders era

james potter:

potter sibling headcanons (ocs) 🤍🖤

warnings: angst, death

remus lupin:

baby bumps (drabble) 🤍

full moons 🖤🤍

overdue 🖤🤍

sleeping beauty 🤍

grow as we go 🖤🤍

regulus black:

the locket 🖤

warnings: major character death

alternate ending 🖤🤍

grey eyes 🤍

mon soleil 🤍

lightning era

harry potter:

dumbledore’s army 🤍

blame it on the butter beer 🤍

the pensieve (sister reader) 🖤

warnings: angst, major character death

neville longbottom:

back to hogwarts 🤍

amends 🤍

elephant in the room 🤍

house division 🖤🤍

flowers 🤍

sweater threads 🤍

cursed 🖤🤍

part two

she’s gone 🖤

warnings: major character death

ease my mind 🖤🤍

warnings: mentions of depression

build a bear workshop (headcanons) 🤍

the pensieve 🖤

warnings: angst, major character death

bonus scene

alternate ending 🖤🤍

oliver wood:

little bother 🤍

fantastic beasts and where to find them

theseus scamander:

winter kisses 🤍

the dress (newt scamander x best friend!reader; theseus Scamanders fiancé!reader) 🤍

care for a treat? 🤍

Practically a Weasley 

Charlie Weasley x Reader

Summary: Newly bestselling childrens book author, (Y/N) (L/N) reconnects with her best friends, Fred and George at a signing. They invite her over for dinner to catch up. Charlie Weasley, also happens to be attending dinner that evening.

Prompt: Please can i request a Charlie Weasley x reader, where she is best friends with and the same age as the twins (they’re all 18 with Charlie being like 23ish) and her and Charlie are secretly dating and then the whole family finds out? Thank you :) - Anon

Word Count: 3.4k 

Warnings: None

A/N: fluffy fluff fluff, oh, and dragons

Part 1.5 … Part 2 … Part 3 … Epilogue 

__

She had promised to be their partner in crime, help with their shop as much as she could, but everything changed when (Y/N) found her passion. (Y/N) decided to travel the world to write children stories for young witches and wizards. She had always enjoyed writing and her creativity knew no bounds. Of course she’d want to expand the imagination of children, influence their thinking from a young age. The Tales of Beedle the Bard got ever so boring once you’ve read it so many times.

Fred and George were heartbroken. (Y/N) had been their best friend since the start of their Hogwarts years, the first person to break into their little world. She had been their sole confidant, their wonderful distractor and the girl everyone thought one of them would end up marrying. Not that Fred or George had thought about it before, but both came to the conclusion that it would be far to weird.

She was practically a Weasley.

Keep reading

☾ ᴅʀᴜɴᴋᴇɴ ɴɪɢʜᴛꜱ ☽

ᴀ/ɴ: I am already back with a new fic for Sam. I am in a groupchat with some amazing people and I decided to write some ideas out that were thrown around. I hope you enjoy! Maybe I will do Alex or Elliott next... Anyway, thank you so much for your time! ✧

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Sam (SDV) x Reader (afab)

ᴡᴄ: 3884 words.

ᴍᴅɴɪ ✧ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: alcohol consumption, drunk sex, doggy style, cursing, unportected sex, drooling, exhibitionism, public setting, teasing, creampie, hornyness all around.

Sam’s mouth was watering, and the sole reason for it was you. Sam had fallen in love with you the moment you had stepped foot into Pelican Town yet had never managed to utter a single word about it. But now, the blonde was absolutely hammered, and that allowed him to shamelessly stare at you. Pupils blown, chest heaving and falling quickly, his eyes were focused on your ass while you were bent over the pool table, focused on your next shot in your game with Sebastian. The only thing that kept him from dropping on his knees and begging to be allowed to suck on those slender fingers wrapping around the cue was the fact that he still wasn’t sure if you liked him back.

When you wiggled your butt a little, a small groan passed his lips. It was desperate, and rough, making the attention of the room fall on him. “Are you okay, Sam?” You asked, worry in your voice. “Yeah…yeah…Yeah, ‘m fine… just gonn…you need help, dontcha? Winnin’ against Seb, I mean,” he slurred, pushing himself up on his legs, steadying himself using the pool table. Sebastian cocked his pierced brow; Sam sucked at pool when he wasn’t drunk, and now he was absolutely shitfaced. What help could he be?

Sam placed himself right behind you, pressing his crotch against you a bit, hoping – no, praying – that you didn’t catch on that he only did that to feel you against his growing buldge.

Though you were a smart girl. The feeling of his erection didn’t go unnoticed, but you kept up your pokerface. “I guess I could use a little help,” you murmured, voice coated in innocence. You leaned forward, smiling up at the oblivious Sebastian. “Sorry, I told you I haven’t played in ages,” you explained, directing the black-haired man’s attention back to the game. He shrugged nonchalantly, waving off your comment and watching you adjust the cue, but Sam had seemingly become hyper focused. He leaned over you, shaking hand gripping your wrist. He was so close, so close to you. He could smell you and feel you. If his mouth was watering before, now it was drooling. He had dreamed of this so often, having you bent over under him, and now he had, and you didn’t even notice his ulterior motives.

A thought that was disproved when he felt it. You pressed your ass against him, circling your hips just ever so slightly to cause friction. An accident? Sam didn’t care. The whine that slipped couldn’t be caught anymore; the despair obvious. The need to beg for you to at least let him feel you for one night, even just a single hour, maybe just put the tip in you if that was all you wanted to give, hanging onto his tongue by a thread. The only thing that kept him from speaking was a pair of attentive eyes that were placed on him.

„Ugh, drunk like that? It’s best he sleeps on the couch here, Jodi’s gonna flip otherwise… and I doubt I can drag his drunk ass up the mountain.”

“‘S…’s a bad position,“ Sam slurred in a weak attempt to explain himself, but he didn’t even really care. He cared about you, boxed in-between his wobbly arms. He could lean down, kiss your neck, suck on it. Leave his wet marks all over you – and who would stop him? “He’s right,” you mused, shifting yet again. This time you rubbed your ass from side to side as if to figure out how to stand, making sure to add pressure against his dick. Sam was creaming in his pants by now, his knees wobbling as he lowered his head. He licked his lips, hot breath hitting your neck.  The goosebumps that appeared made him want to drool all over you, but still, he cleared his throat and guided you into a sloppy shot. Trying to stay strong, not to make it too obvious. But fuck, your gentle grinding into his cock, the way you pressed into him – he swore his cock was about to burst right then and there for you, and if you kept it up, he’d cum in his pants in the saloon.

“Damn, Sam. You wanted to help her win, not make her lose. Maybe you should step back,” Sebastian grunted, an obvious edge to his voice, yet he would have never expected his best friend to actually growl at him in return. That was the only way the sound that radiated through the blonde’s chest could be described; it was deep and rough, almost threatening. Possessive, even.

While it shocked the other man, it sent a shock straight through your whole body. It was enough for you to put your cue away and stand up straight, giving Sebastian a small smile. “I think it’s time we get Sammy boy here to sleep.”

Perfect.

“I’ll take him to the farm, then. Until our ways part we are about halfway there, you can help me drag him.”

Sebastian sighed dramatically, but put the cue away, which probably signalled his agreement, or at least you decided to take it as such.

Both of you draped one of Sam’s arms over your shoulders and made the strenuous way up to your farm, Sebastian stubbornly staring ahead, while Sam was slumped between you. His cheeks were red, but the way you looked at him made him wheeze. The look that he gave you, so lustful and horny, eyes drowning in need, made your legs buckle every now and then, straining a grunt from Sebastian that now had to basically drag two whenever you did. “You sure you want him on your farm? I can stay over-“

“No,“ you interrupted, flashing him a quick, reassuring smile. “You’ve got to work with Robin tomorrow, and she will freak out if you’re not there. Besides, I have a guard dog, and if this fella acts up, he’ll be sent to the doghouse.”

Sebastian smiled a little and nodded, the thought of Sam sleeping in a small hut clearly bemusing him. Smacking his friend on the back, which almost sent the poor boy tumbling over, Sebastian turned. „Behave, you hear? Or I gotta whoop your ass.” With that and a wave, he began to make his way home.

Silence.

“So…,” you began when Sebastian’s silhouette had blended into the deep night, looking at the blonde hanging onto your shoulder. “What was all that about?”

“All…hicc… what about?”

“In the bar. You drooled on my neck.”  

Sam giggled at that, tilting his head back as his laugh became deeper. “Yea…that-…that probably was ‚cause I really fuckin‘ love you…an‘…an‘ cum in my fist every night thinkin‘ of fuckin…fucking you.”

If that wasn’t drunken honesty, you didn’t know what else would be. “But  I didn’t know hoooow to tell youuuu. So, don’t tell on me, m’kay? Don’t want ya to..hate me, ya know.”

Chuckling quietly, you pushed a strand of hair out of his, face, dragging your lower lip between your teeth. “You know who you’re talking to, right”

“Mh..course. My little farmer princess.”

“And you know what I did to you in the bar?”

“Mhhhhm. Was so close to cummin‘. Still…still am.”

“Do you know what could mean, Sam?”

“That… you suck even more at pool than me?”

You snorted, head tipping back as you laughed. Yoba, he wanted to lick down your throat, down your body, devour your cunt. He wanted to taste you so, so bad. He could have bet that you had the prettiest pussy he would ever lay eyes on, and he would make sure to worship it. With slow licks, the fast ones, by spelling his name on your clit and with your legs over his shoulder so he could get into as much contact as possible.

“No, Sam. I’m into you. I have been for a while. Didn’t you ever notice me flirting? Not even when I told you you should show me what else those fingers can do than play guitar.”

You could literally see the corks in Sam’s head reeling, trying to connect the dots of the information that had just been relied to him. “So…ya…like me back?”

You rolled your eyes, deciding that in this state, only actions seemed to count for Sam. Words took too long to process. You leaned down to kiss the man deeply - an opportunity he leaped at. His tongue immediately dragged over your lips, coating them with the taste of alcohol. The moan that left you was to his advantage, he shoved his tongue into your mouth clumsily, letting it run over yours, licking at it as if he was starving. His hands had found your body for support to stop himself from swaying back and forth. “Need ya…need ya so bad. This kay?“ He slurred against your mouth, pretty blue eyes staring at you, begging you without words.

You bit your lip and tried to steady Sam again, “Come on, let’s get to the farm, we can…we can-„ Sam’s mouth hit yours again, his teeth sinking into your lips gently. You moaned again, tugging at his hair, but your surroundings made you pull away and tug at him him. “Let’s get to the farm, I need you,” you ordered, setting a rather fast pace for drunken Sam.

He whined, begged and pleaded, but in the end, he strolled with you, legs buckling and wobbling, and the lack of blood in his brain seemed to make the short path to your house even longer. The fabric of his clothes rubbed against his buldge so uncomfortably, and the way your hips swayed when you walked brought him close to tears. He wanted you. He had wanted you for so long, he couldn’t wait any longer.

The moment you reached the bus stop, Sam dropped to his knees, almost making you fall over due to the sudden weight shift. “Sam! What are you doing?”

“Fuck…fuck, please. ‘M beggin’ you. ‘M so fuckin’ hard…it hurts so bad…shit, you look so pretty for me,” he gasped, rutting against his hand that he had rested in his lap. The moonlight hit you so perfectly…you looked so amazing. Amazing enough for him to throw his head back, now gripping his length through his clothes. “Pretty please,“ he added, helplessly looking up at you. You bit your lower lip again, your own knees growing weak. You could feel the wetness pool between your legs, and it was hard for you to not just let him have his way with you.

“But what if anyone is gonna see us? We can’t risk being caught. It’s not that far anymore…”

“No! No one will see us!” Sam cried, “I promise…promise I’ll be quick. I’ll be quiet. Anythin‘, princess. Pretty please. I beg you. Please. I’ll be good. Just…please.”

You seriously doubted the value of a completely horny, drunk and in love person’s opinion, but before you knew it, you found yourself on your knees, kissing Sam sloppily.

The blonde immediately pounced on you, pressing his crotch into yours, his hands seemingly everywhere. “So pretty,” he panted against you, kissing down your jaw, down your neck, and then he already lapped at your throat. You seemingly felt him everywhere at once, making you moan out lowly.  That only urged Sam on more. He wanted more. He wanted to hear you, smell you, taste you, feel you. He wanted you. No, he needed you.

“You know how often I’ve dreamed of fucking you?”

It was just a murmur against your neck on which he greedily sucked. “How often I’ve dreamed of holdin‘ you in my arms? Pretty baby, makin‘ you all mine.”

Sam had seemingly sobered up a little but that didn’t help much – he was was already intoxicated by you again.

He tugged at your pants and at his at the same time, trying to get them both off at the same time, causing you to laugh out breathlessly. He gave up his attempt and back, licking over his lips.

“Need you so bad,” he repeated while he unbuckled his belt, struggling out of his pants.

You licked your lips and opened the button to your pants much slower, pushing them down your long legs centimetre by centimetre. Blue eyes were glued on you; Sam’s mouth hung open as he watched you, tongue hanging out just slightly. He was pretty sure you could see his dick throb against his already wet boxers, but fuck, who cared? He sure didn’t. The hunger in his eyes made you shiver, no man had ever looked at you like he did, and you were sure he was already fucking you in his head.

“The panties,” he stammered, making you grin to yourself. “The panties. Please, princess. Take them off. You’re so wet already, fuck, please, I- am pretty sure I’m gonna die if you don’t.”

“You mean these?” You teased, gripping at the waistband and letting it snap against your hips. The blonde groaned, the force of the sheer lust hitting him almost making him drop forward again.

“You want them off?”

He nodded, eyes yet again filled with tears. “Yoba, please, yes…need…need to see your pussy.”

“Then take them off.”

Sam was incredibly quick to move, much quicker than you had deemed in the range of possibility, he did have a lot of drinks, but he was on top of you the moment you gave the go. He pushed your shirt upwards and messily pulled your breasts from your bra, sucking one of your nipples into his mouth. He trailed his tongue around it, before switching sides, his hand trailing towards your panties already. He let his finger glide along your slit over the fabric, growl escaping him upon feeling your wet spot. “All that teasing gotcha wet, huh?” He hissed, biting your nipple gently before he slowly licked down your cleavage, staying in-between your breasts for a moment longer, just inhaling deeply and leaving his love bites. You smelled so good, so sweet; it was hard to not get lost in his in his need. However, after a moment he picked up his journey again and licked down your stomach, until he finally reached the hem of your panties.

The night air began to fill with moans that tumbled out of your mouth, the eagerness you were treated with leaving your cunt pulsing. By now you felt a need similar to Sam’s, making you pretty sure you needed him all over you to ever think properly again, even though right now, you were far from it. He let his fingers run up to your exposed chest, gripping your nipples between pointer finger and thumb and rolling them gently. “Lift your butt,” he ordered, almost smiling to himself when you did. He gripped the lace of your panties with his teeth, slowly tugging them down. You shuddered when the cold night air hit your hot wetness, and Sam moaned lowly upon seeing your cunt.“ Look how beautiful. Such a sweet little cunt…all for me, isn’t it? All for my cock and me,” he rambled, having to sit back on his heels for a moment. The beauty of your almost naked body had him dangerously close to the edge, and he would have forever hated himself if his own dick cockblocked him right now.

“Sam-“

“Get on your hands and knees for me, pretty baby.”

You sucked in air through your teeth, eyes dragging down his body. He was hard as a rock, and you were sure his boxers were about to rip, so you slowly settled on your hands and knees. Maybe it was also because you just needed to be absolutely stuffed with cock.

You tried to wait patiently, even though your own need made that incredibly hard, but you couldn’t risk getting Sam distracted. His gaze seemed to burn holes into your back, making you shift around on your knees. Then you finally heard shifting and the gentle sound of skin smacking against skin.

“You are so ready for me, baby,” he murmured, his fingers spreading your drooling lips slowly. One of them pushed inside of you, low groan falling from his lips. He curled his finger and then thrusted it knuckle-deep, breathing in sharply upon feeling you basically pulling him in. You were so wet and warm… and he could finally get his dick into you. He couldn’t take it anymore. He was about to be ripped apart by the feelings tumbling around inside of him, and you were the only thing on this whole planet that would ease this ache he had for you.

You felt his finger leave you and whined, wiggling your ass in the air. Much to your surprise, a hand came down on your butt, forcing you to yelp out Sam’s name. “Teasin‘ me all night already,” he slurred, pressing his tip against your soaked hole. “And it worked…”

With that, he slowly pushed himself inside of you and the world seemed to disappear.

All he could hear was static, and the sound of his own heartbeat, mixing with your moans. He was pretty sure the world could explode and he wouldn’t have blinked an eye. All he could think about was how good you felt; despite only having the tip in, you sucked him in deeper already.

“This okay?”

You nodded eagerly, pushing back against his dick in a desperate attempt to get more. Yoba, you needed more. This time it was you that wanted to cry and beg for him, but Sam seemed to pick up your silent prayers.

His hips shoved forward eagerly; it seemed like your walls were made for his cock. You fit so snuck around him, cunt welcoming him with a wet sound. The two of you moaned and you had to rest your head on your arms to keep at least your butt up in the air for Sam, the promise of being quite long forgotten. Centimetre by centimetre Sam pushed inside of you, making sure to take his time, to really split you in two for him and only him. One of his hands was resting firmly on your hip, the other cupping one of your breasts. When he was balls deep inside of you, he abruptly stopped, his penis twitching violently inside of you. For a moment, you weren’t sure if he had just had his orgasm, and when you turned around you could see his eyes watering. You were about to ask, yet the thought was immediately cut off when Sam pulled back and rammed back into you.

Suddenly you could feel the weight of his upper body on your own as he angled himself to get better access to your sweet cunt.

“Mine, all mine,” Sam panted into your ear as he began to pick up a fast pace, humping you like an animal in heat. The sound of his balls smacking against your wet pussy and the way his pelvic bone hit your bare ass created sounds lewd enough for anyone within a kilometre to know what was happening. Neither of you cared.

You were a moaning mess beneath the blonde, and he was whimpering, close to sobbing your name. Sam sucked on your neck to mark you up, keep you away from dirty, greedy eyes such as his own, his cock bullying into you at a fast pace; your walls sucking him off so well. His eyes rolled in the back of his head when he felt you clench around him as he began to gently circle your clit.

“Like that, huh? Like when…I do this?” He snarled, licking his lips and kissing down your spine; a task that was rather hard given that his hard thrusts made your whole body shake.

“Sam!” You sobbed, trying to meet his thrusts desperately as if you just couldn’t get enough, and Sam was happy to deliver. He pressed you into his body and fucked into you as if his life depended on it, tongue hanging out and droplets of saliva falling on your back.

You swore you could see little fairies dance around you when Sam hit your sweet spot, this combined with his relentless spelling of his name on your clit made you approach the edge with fast steps.

Sam wasn’t much better – he was staring at his thick perverted cock vanishing into your pussy, spreading open your sweet little hole with each thrust. He loved to see how he forced wetness out of you with each thrust, and he swore to himself he’d make you cream.

“Sam, fuck, Sam! I’m gonna cu-cum!” You cried, the thought of if you could maybe wake someone with your needy cries for dick crossed your mind, but it quickly turned into arousal. You would love for people to hear how well Sam was fucking you, how mean he was to your cunt, snapping his hips back and forth mercilessly, accompanied by the sound of his skin smacking against your reddened ass that by now was sporting a red handprint. 

“Gonna cum, Sam, gonna cum!” You slurred, feeling his wet tongue trace patterns down the side of your neck again. White light flashed in front of your eyes, your toes curled up as you felt your face growing numb.

What the two of you didn’t notice was the text from Sebastian’s number that made the screens of your phones light up. Nice show. Make it less obvious that you want to fuck next time or send me videos so I can rewatch.

Sam’s whimpers and small groans had turned into dragged out whines, adoring how you let him fuck you out here near the bus stop. He wanted people to hear you. Show them you were his and his alone. He would have loved for each of the guys to see him ruining you, so they’d keep their hands off. Seeing how his cock vanished inside of you with each thrust, how his precum and your juices were mixing together, dribbling down his shaft. The thought of them seeing you sprawled out and crying for him and the feeling of you drooling all over his throbbing dick, begging for more was enough to push him over the edge.

His body tensed up, a cry of sheer pleasure was being bellowed into the night as his orgasm washed over him, his cock pressed deep inside of you. The feeling of his cum inside of you was too much. You sobbed his name, fingers wrapping around strands of grass as your body convulsed, the numbness that caught up to you soothing as you clenched around your lover’s dick, making it hard for Sam to move. The blonde gritted his teeth, his thrusts slowly slowing down as he hung his head; his breathing hard and laboured

You were lying beneath him, panting as well as your hand slowly searched for his. Upon finding it, you intertwined your fingers, and for a moment you two just sat there, Sam’s dick still buried inside of you, your hands interlocked.

“Round two when we reach the farm?” You whispered after a while, despite having his cum drip out of you as he pulled back slowly, making Sam smile like a lovesick puppy.

“Round two when we reach the farm.”

REMUS LUPIN | 15:09 ⏤NOT SO SECRET ADMIRER

SUM. : you can't hide your adoration for remus lupin and often end up staring at him, good thing he thinks you're really cute

G. : obvious secret admirer reader ; flustered remus ; reader is adorable but shy ; remus is insecure ; james, sirius and peter being a tease ; fluff

LENGTH : 1.2k

NOT PROOFREAD OR EDITED

The first time Remus noticed you, he thought you were staring at the man beside him instead, boisterously laughing away at a comment James made. It was a common occurance to see cute girls longingly pinning after one of his best friends from a distance because why wouldn’t that be the case? Sirius had the looks, the attitude, the charms, he had everything. And, although Remus was happy for his friend, he couldn’t help but feel slightly tortured over the fact that some who had such a darling look about them fell for such a notorious playboy. 

Before he could stop himself, Remus pointed you out to Sirius, who immediately turned towards you, eager to send a flirtatious wink your way but quickly realised the slight misalignment of your gaze. Following your stare, a slow smirk took over his dashing features.

“Nah, she’s staring at you mate,” Sirius chuckles, relishing in his tall friend’s shocked and flustered expression.

“No way that’s true…” Remus uttered. He hardly gains any attention because of his visible scars, he can’t imagine such a cute girl giving him such courtesy. 

“See for yourself,” Sirius prompts with a subtle nod in your direction. He’s a little impressed by how lost in the moment you were, staring at Remus with such a yearning stare, he feels a little swell of pride in his chest knowing that his friend had such a devoted admirer, “look at her and if you meet eyes instantly then she's staring at you, not me. Bonus if she gets flustered and acts like she wasn't looking in the first place,” 

“Fine…” still in disbelief over the fact that he had an admirer, Remus turned in your direction, confident that you would not react in the way Sirius had described. 

“You’ve got a sweet one there Moony,” Sirius teased, preparing for the usual shove to push his shoulder back but it never came. 

You reacted exactly as Sirius had described and Remus couldn’t believe just how cute you were.

After that small encounter, Remus has noticed you more and more often. It’s come to the point where the other marauders had begun teasing him by pointing you out in the sea of students whenever they happened to spot you.  

“Hey look, it’s your missus, Moony,” Sirius grinned, pointing at you during dinner, “give her some sugar, will you?” 

“Don’t look now but I can see future Mrs Lupin staring at her beloved for the 1000th time today,” James directed Remus’ attention to you staring at him while walking to a class, hugging your books to your chest, “I wonde-'' James began but was cut off when he and the rest of the marauders saw you bump into another student with a squeak. You had been so distracted with your staring that you neglected to look where you were going. Could you get any more adorable?

“It’s your wife, Moony, don’t be shy now and say hello,” Peter jabbed at Remus’ side with a toothy grin, brows jumping up and down in suggestion.

They all deserved being hit upside the head for their teasing but they persisted; they knew Remus had grown a unique fondness for you too and, despite their frequent playful taunting, at some point they worried that Remus would soon grow tired of you but his affection only seemed to grow more instead. Soon enough, they found out that you were a year below them and a Ravenclaw who, naturally, spent a lot of her time in the library studying. 

In support of their friend, the boys sacrificed more time hanging out at the library so that Remus and you could have your moment together. That moment being more like stolen glances from across the room when the other wasn’t looking. 

It started off cute but now it was just pure frustration for all the marauders but Remus.

Clearly there could be something between you two but you didn’t know that you had caught Remus’ attention and Remus was too afraid to confront you himself, his insecurities winning over the obvious fact that you liked him. They did their best to tempt Remus into making a move but he was stubborn and stood his ground; the boys grew terribly close to pulling out patches of their own hair. 

Remus doesn’t ever act on his desires. For a very long time, he has discouraged himself from doing things he wants to do simply because he doesn't think he deserves to be happy. Because he is a monster. He doesn’t want to get his hopes up and he doesn't believe he could be a boyfriend that you so clearly deserve. You need someone present, who won’t keep secrets, who can provide a good future for you and that someone wasn’t him. You’re very cute and your dream-like staring is flattering but Remus couldn’t do something so cruel to you. 

“I’m sure she will understand, Moony,” Sirius reassures as the four of them walk to their next class. 

“Yeah, we don’t care for your furry little problem, and as your future wife, neither would she,” James adds as Peter nods along beside him. 

“Stop it,” Remus demands in a soft tone. He knows they mean well but his decision is final, he’s staying away from you. 

“Ah!” a squeal followed by the thudding of fallen books relays the sudden force that collides with Remus’ torso. The boys notice something far earlier than he did and have jumped away without being noticed, leaving Remus to panic as he realises who you are and what had just happened. 

Immediately kneeling down, Remus helps you collect up your books and other equipment, “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going, are you alright?” Remus rambled, his eyes searching your figure for any sign of injury; he knows he’s a big, tall guy and with his infliction had an unassuming strength behind his lanky figure so he was worried. Thankfully you seemed okay.

It doesn’t take long for you to realise who you had bumped into and were forced into a trance as your movements slowed and restored to what you were used to doing - staring at the man of your affections in awe. There’s something about Remus Lupin that draws your eye. As a prefect, he’s already well respected and carries a dignified air about him that contrasts endearingly to his soft appearance. 

He’s really pretty and handsome, so much so that his scars never take away from his looks, instead the marred skin adds to his unique charms. You adore how smart he is, you love his smile, love that he smells like chocolate whenever he walks past, love the way his hands look when he’s reading a book - you adore him. But you’ve always been too shy to confront anyone and that included Remus, so you settled for keeping your distance and admired him from afar only. 

Now that you were forced into such an innocuous but incredibly intimate interaction with him, you don’t know what to do. You let him guide you back up to your feet and hand you back your small pile of books. He’s smiling at you and saying words you couldn’t hear because you were just so enamoured. 

“You’re really pretty…” you whisper with admiration in your eyes and love in your voice, realising too late what you had said aloud and running off in embarrassment, desperately uttering your apologies as you go. 

With the tips of his ears glowing red, Remus stares off at your retreating figure with a soft smile on his lips.

‘Maybe I should ask her out…’ 

A/N : remus is too pretty for his own good, ami right or am i right?

NAVI. | PART 2

Headcanons For Being A Student And Dating Professor Remus Lupin

request: Can you do headcannons for professor lupin x student reader?

Note: You are of age in this!!

-

The two of you met while on the Hogwarts Express, finding no other cart to sit in but his - he was asleep, anyways.

The ride to Hogwarts was quiet, Lupin’s quiet breaths being the only sound within the cart until screams were heard down the hall of the train.

It got very cold all of a sudden and you shivered, wrapping your coat around you tighter as you noticed a raggedy-looking black figure hovering over the door to the compartment.

Gasping, you shuffled closer to the windows of the cart as you realized the figure was coming into the room, hiding your face in your coat.

“Expecto Patronum!” a voice yelled, propelling the figure out of the train entirely

You looked at the once-sleeping man, a smile now on his face “Professor Lupin, at your service. I’m the new DADA Professor.”

You were so lucky that you decided to take DADA that year, blushing at his introduction, then introducing yourself to your new teacher.

The rest of the train ride, the two of you shared pieces of chocolate and he taught you all about what dementors were and how he dispelled them.

If you were shaking after the incident, Remus would sit next to you and hold your hands tight, reminding you that the dementor was no longer there.

Hopping off the train, he’d wink at you and say that he’d see you around - you failed to mention you were taking his class.

First day of classes, he was a bit surprised to see you right in the front, face becoming a bit red but he continued on throughout his lessons.

After the Boggarts lesson, you’d ask Professor Lupin for a bit more practice after class, and you were sirius (lol serious, sirius, get it?)

He’d be all for it, training you in the courtyard after hours and praising you for every little thing you did

Remus would be beaming, so proud of how far along you’ve come in his class; every time you’d look back at him for dispelling your Boggart, he’d always have a smile on his face.

“Look at you, my star student! Did you see that? Merlin, I could not be prouder.” “Really, Professor?” “Really.”

Remus would slowly start off with kisses on the head, nothing too affectionate. When he’d teach you things further advanced than the rest of the class, then he’d give you kisses on both your cheeks, face beaming.

Until you get yourself into trouble with the Golden Trio and he finds you in the Whomping Willow with them.

He scolds you first, even before Harry and the others, which actually surprises himself.

Would drag you back to Hogwarts himself (let’s pretend it wasn’t a full moon and he didn’t transform bc why not) and say how angry he was with you, going overprotective.

Once he closes the door to his classroom, he overlooks you for injuries, just making sure you’re okay until you smack his shoulder, “Remus, I’m fine!” “Just making sure, darling, what you did was pretty stupid.”

He’d look you in the eyes after calling you darling, testing the waters. You’d smile at him, making him chuckle as he’d touch your nose with his, leaning in to give you a kiss.

From then on, you two would be extremely careful about your relationship - for obvious reasons, nobody knows about it. On the outside, it just looks like a great bond between a student and a teacher (and there is nothing wrong with that!!!!)

Remus would be so careful with you, literally and metaphorically. He’d take care of you for every little thing and would brush your hair out of your face, making sure you weren’t hurt or in pain.

He’d also be careful about how much attention he paid you - he could play favorites, but not girlfriend favorites.

If you ever asked a question in class, he’d smile big and give you praise - but it’d mean more. During a test, he’d make sure to lay a hand on your back or shoulder. If you come to his desk, Remus would put a hand on your lower back, making sure no other student could see it.

Would scootch closer to you to smell your perfume or hair, smiling to himself as you’d shiver.

Looked for you during his free period and shockingly, both of your free’s lined up. Usually, you’d be in the Potions classroom with Snape’s permission.

The two of them cared for you as a student - but Remus more than Snape - so Severus wouldn’t be annoyed whenever Remus would help you with Potions or just hanging out with you. The three of you would have lovely conversations, actually; the tension between them was almost nonexistent to you but not for them.

If you were in the library, he’d make it seem like he was helping you with understanding the material. Would definitely hold your thigh under the table, his thumb rubbing smooth circles on your skin.

Remus would be the type of guy, further in the relationship, to tell you to wear your skirt shorter one day just so he could get a good look - without being suspicious or demeaning towards you.

If you played Quidditch, he’d cheer the loudest for you, being a supportive boyfriend. The staff wouldn’t think anything weird of it - just him being proud of one of his best students.

If not, he’d steal glances to you during the game just to see your face light up at a certain play.

Remus would take you on dates in Hogsmeade, but only in secluded parts where other students/teachers wouldn’t be able to find you two. Either it be a picnic or a restaurant, he’d make you laugh the entire time and hold your hand.

Kind of shy about PDA but would give you lots of kisses in private and would brush your hands if you walked past each other in the Hogwarts halls.

Would whisper that he loves you whenever he got the chance.

NSFW BELOW THE CUT

Keep reading

Loki | episode 3 - Lamentis

His Girl

Pairing: shy!remus lupin x shy!fem!reader

summary: An oblivious boy that you've been trying to get away from for a week corners you at a party. Luckily, Remus is there to help.

warnings: fake dating, sexual harassment (catcalling, attempted forced kiss), implied attempted SA (nothing too graphic, remus steps in before the creep gets too close), no use of (y/n), alcohol consumption, language, mutual pining, secondhand embarrassment, cheesiness, fluffy ending because shy remus deserves the world (w/c: 2.4k)

“Pretty girl, come back and talk t’me! I’m getting lonely over here all by myself,” Jason Hartley slurred, stretching out a clammy hand in your direction. You were thankful that his movements were uncoordinated, because it was difficult enough to navigate through the throng of students packed together like sardines.

In the low lighting of the Gryffindor common room, you couldn't make out any familiar faces, so you set your sight on disappearing behind the nearest group of people.

The problem arose last week in potions class. Your desk partner was a kind Hufflepuff girl, but usually abandoned you to spend time with her closer friends. Jason – the boy who sat behind you – volunteered to be your partner for such occasions, and honestly, you didn’t mind at first. He wasn’t a great student, but managed to at least brew the potions correctly where many of your classmates failed.

However, Jason was unwaveringly obnoxious, and earned a daily scolding from Professor Slughorn for talking over the entirety of his instructions. 

While brewing a particularly petulant draught of peace, Jason sighed loudly, causing you to turn and face him. When you asked him what was wrong, he whined and explained how his girlfriend had cheated on him with one of his friends.

It was clearly causing him a lot of grief, and you reasoned that for the decent help he provided you with, he deserved something to cheer him up. You kindheartedly offered to treat him to a butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks, to which he agreed with a smug smile.

You first realised your mistake when he met you at the front gate of the school, gleefully exclaiming how excited he was for your “date.”

You rushed to correct him, but he kept blathering on about the masculinity of Quidditch (he didn’t make the team), his aptitude in transfiguration (he was publicly lectured by professor McGonnagall only days prior), and how women shouldn’t apply for positions in the Ministry (he couldn’t name any of the departments if he tried).

By the time he finished, hours had passed and your voice was scratchy from disuse. You smiled politely as you dug your fingernails into your palms under the table. It wasn’t even worth arguing with him about. 

After you fished out your wallet and paid for the both of you, he leaned in to grab your waist and kiss you full-on, but you sidestepped away from him just in time.

As always, he was completely oblivious to any sort of rejection whatsoever. You saved yourself from walking back to the school with him when you told him that you needed to pick up some “sensitive” items in the apothecary.

You left him no room to argue before heaving the door open and booking it to the Honeydukes cellar passageway as fast as you could.

He’d been trying to track you down in the days since, and you’d successfully avoided him every time. Until now. 

“Baby, please! Need you to sit on my lap, kiss me hard,” he groaned, tossing his half-consumed cup of liquor across the crowded room. Unfortunately, no one seemed to notice. You gagged. Your chest was heaving – releasing short breaths that made it feel like you were drowning.

You were running out of space to escape from him, and everyone else was too drunk to interfere. In a moment of weakness, you wedged yourself between two cabinets and shut your eyes, praying that whatever he tried would be over soon.

When a voice rang out through the muffled hum of the crowd, it was sweeter than you’d expected. 

“I’m so sorry I’m late, darling. I picked up your favourite chocolate and some peonies that I thought you might like.” Your shoulders dropped. You blinked open your eyes, and found that your view of the party was blocked by the cutest boy you’d ever seen.

Golden brown hair draped over his hazel-coloured eyes, and a silver scar crossed over his nose and through his eyebrow. His Adam's apple bobbed, as if he was nervously awaiting your response. His gaze was soft, and pleaded for you to take the pink flowers extended in his hands. “Play along,” he mouthed. Your fingers curled around his larger hand, and your arm settled around his back. 

“Baby, you don’t need to apologise.” You stood on your toes and cupped his jaw, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. Remus swallowed thickly and prayed that his face didn’t look as red as it felt. His hands were on fire as you embraced them delicately. “I’m so lucky that you thought of me, my love.”

You side-eyed Jason, who scoffed, and muttered words of defeat under his breath as he scurried off to bother some other poor soul. 

Remus took note of the way your body decompressed, and how you continued to squeeze his hand. He’d like to think that it was your method of comforting yourself without even realising it. “Would you like to get some fresh air?” He suggested, meeting your shy gaze once again.

You nodded contentedly and intertwined your arms, letting him lead you through the portrait hole and away from the flashing lights and bass-boosted music. 

As the adrenaline of escaping from Jason faded, your nervous system reminded you of who you were clinging to like a lifeline. Of course you knew Remus – everyone did. He was one of the most handsome boys in your year, albeit shy and soft-spoken, and you’d been madly crushing on him (distantly) since you were both twelve.

Of course, this was when the Marauders were first establishing themselves as a force to be reckoned with – universally acknowledged and adored by admirers, loathed by foes, and a torment to most professors. 

However, Remus seemed to be immune to controversy. He engaged in his fair share of misbehaviour, but he was less impulsive than his best mates, and preferred to spend his time in the library, burrowing within treasure troves of fictional worlds and academic knowledge.

On many occasions, you spotted him deep in concentration, eyes squinted and hands deftly tracing scenes of the Black Lake onto a sketchbook. 

You almost worked up the courage to speak to him once, but resigned yourself when you learned that you were not unique in your position. You chose to admire him from a distance after overhearing routine whispers of girls (and guys) fawning over him in almost every corridor of the castle.

He, however, was completely unaware of the group of admirers that giggled and twirled their hair at the mere sight of him.

He didn’t seem to ever notice you, though, which hurt way more than it should. Recently, you’d attempted to move on – yet here you were, making a fool out of yourself and melting into his side. 

Thanks to Remus’ prefect privileges, you were able to bypass the security of the castle and head straight for the serenity of the lake. As you both nestled yourself in the surrounding grass, his hold on your hand loosened. “Are you okay?” He asked, concern apparent in his tone. His furrowed brow and the flecks of gold in his eyes tinted your cheeks pink. You were thankful that it was dark outside. 

“I’m lucky that you were there to rescue me, s’all.” You nearly whispered. “He hasn’t left me alone all week.” 

“I know.” Remus muttered, shaking his head and staring at his legs. His eyes widened. “I mean- he’s a total prick. Always acting as if girls owe him something. It’s impossible not to notice him. I’m sorry I didn’t do something earlier- in potions class, I mean.” He cursed himself for being so awkward. 

Meanwhile, you felt electricity warm your stomach. Remus had really noticed you before? Sure, he was known for being exceptionally kind, but your paths hadn’t ever crossed in a noteworthy way, at least to you.

He continued. “I’m sorry if it was awkward– what I did. I don’t think anything else would have worked on him, at this point.” His voice trailed off, growing softer at the end. 

“Are you kidding? Remus, that was brilliant!” You slapped a hand over your mouth. The volume in your voice startled a crow at the edge of the lake, who began to caw wildly.

You continued, more gently this time. “I mean, you’re brilliant. Of course you are, with all of the studying you do. In the library, like every day.” Remus’ grin widened as you got increasingly flustered. “I meant to say – God, I’m bad at this. What I mean to say is thank you. I know that everyone always talks about how nice you are, but now I get it.”

“What, you didn’t believe them before?” Remus teased. You opened your mouth to defend yourself, but he cut you off. “I’m only joking. You’re welcome, you’re always welcome. It was nothing. I’d break his nose, if I had the chance. In fact, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind laxatives in his breakfast, and a week-long vacation to the infirmary after duelling practice.”

“Remus!” You chided, shoving his shoulder lightly. He caught your hand on his chest, and rubbed his thumb against your knuckles lightly.

“Only joking,” He smiled widely, feeling his heart pound so hard against his ribcage he thought he might die. He wondered if you felt it from where you were sitting, only a foot away from him.

He lowered your hand, and used your distracted state as a chance to admire your carefree expression. Your lips were stretched wide in laughter, and your breath was melodic in the silence of midnight. Your features were relaxed, and he couldn’t remember the last time he saw you this way.

For years he'd taken to admiring you from afar, too afraid of stumbling over his words and becoming a bumbling idiot without a brain. He shamefully recalled the time that he gave a presentation in front of his history of magic class and froze under your tender gaze.

He groaned into his pillow the entire night as James and Sirius skipped in circles around his bed, cackling and spluttering and imitating him forgetting how to speak for ten minutes.

Still, whenever he saw you, it was like seeing you for the first time. He was a total mess, and you probably saw right through him. Your voice cut through his usual self-depracating inner monologue. 

“Remus, why did you have chocolates and flowers with you anyway?” You murmured, feeling your heartbeat pick up in your chest. You hated yourself for asking this question because you already knew the answer. Your palms began to sweat. In the moment of suspense, you would have done anything to cling to blind hope for a little while longer. Maybe he liked you back. Deep down, you knew that it couldn't be true.

You were making him nervous, and Remus always seemed to exude confidence. He probably wanted to give those gifts to a lucky guy or girl who wasn’t you, and whose date you must have crashed with your personal issues. 

“Oh,” he swallowed. “Well actually, Pads–er, Sirius, asked me to pick these up for a guy on our floor that he’s been trying to impress lately.” He exhaled a puff of air through his nose. “Reckon he couldn’t be bothered to get them himself. These’re yours now.” He looked up at you through his eyelashes, heart stopping when you giggled and lowered your head to smell the peonies. 

You felt warmth swell in your chest. In the silence, a moment of confidence struck you. “Why haven’t we talked like this before?” 

Remus’ throat felt dry. His mind was racing as he tried to think of what to say – something that was destined to only scratch the surface of what he wished he could tell you. “When we’re in the library at the same time and you're not looking, I see you huddled over your books, and I think I start having heart palpitations or something, and I – fuck, you’re so pretty.” Your jaw dropped. He realised. “Shit, did I say that out loud?”

“Remus-”

“Well, I’ve already started, might as well just say it all,” he muttered under his breath. He hoped you wouldn’t hate him after this. “You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen, and I’m an idiot who doesn’t know what he’s doing. When I see you in the corridor, or in the common room, I think I lose myself, and I end up trying to act like someone else, like a less-insecure version of myself, and fuck, you’re gorgeous and I’m just– I’m-” 

“Remus.” You placed your hand on top of his. He exhaled, hoping to God that he doesn’t start crying when you reject him. “Remus, I – um, I like you. A lot.” His heart stopped. He thought he blacked out for a minute, maybe two. Eventually, you noticed his vacant expression, and his eyes that were unblinking.

 “Remus, are you okay? Earth to Remus?” Suddenly, he was brought back to life. He felt like somebody told him that he qualified for the Olympics, or he received outstandings in all of his N.E.W.T.s. Maybe his dreams of meeting David Bowie had come true, or even better. Definitely better.

In a moment of impulsivity, he leaned forward until his face was in front of your own. You could feel his shaky exhale on your skin, waiting for you to make the next move. You leaned toward him and gently pressed your lips against his, running your hands through the soft curls at the nape of his neck. He hummed into your mouth and stroked your cheek with his thumb.

Slowly, he pulled away for breath. “Sweet girl, can I take you out to get a proper butterbeer? Without sexist jokes, or wandering hands? Or– I’ll take you anywhere you want to go.” You beamed at him, and Remus’ heart thudded in his chest hard.

“I don’t mind the wandering hands part, actually.”

He erupted into surprised laughter – short, breathless gasps that escaped his heaving chest. “Oi, you were so shy a moment ago! Where has my nervous girl gone?” He didn’t attempt to hide the warmth that seeped into his features and illuminated him in a hue of pink, scarcely visible in the webs of shadowy moonlight that slithered through the clouds. 

“Your girl, huh?” You raised an eyebrow.

“I didn’t mean – unless you also wanted to be, for me to ask you properly, because I want you to-” 

“I think I could get used to that. Only if I’d get to call you ‘my boy,’ though."

Remus' smile was contagious. He felt a blooming love break free from beneath the patchwork of scars adorning his chest and the steely barriers within. He unravelled all of his defences. He was sure of it. You would be his girl, his everything, always.

The next morning, he made sure to arrange an extra special meeting between Jason, who was covered in painful head-to-toe boils, and the head of school. So help him, Jason would never see any part of you or the castle again.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading, I hope that you enjoyed! Please do not copy or translate any of my work without permission. As this is my first work on this blog, likes and reblogs are very much apprecated!! - xoxo, Opalesquegirl