John-Harris

Scars: Young!Remus x Reader

Masterlist

Request: REMUS LUPIN  APPRECIATION DAY

Warnings: Fluff Too Real

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Originally posted by your-harry-potter-imagines


Y/N turns slightly, looking over her shoulder when Remus grumbles in his sleep and his arm unwinds from around her, he shifts slightly, now straight on his back rather than being the bigger spoon. She smiles  as she turns around completely, now on her side as she faces him, hands folded under her head, supporting her cheek.  She watches with candid admiration, the way his dark brown locks are tousled wildly across the pillow. The way his nose kept scrunching up as his head lulled to the side slightly, pressing against the pillow. She tilts her head, memorizing the way his eyes were shut, his long lashes spilling onto his cheeks. 

It was a day or two after the full moon, and although they had planned a dinner date for Hogsmeade, Y/N had suggested a nap instead. Remus had protested, saying how she deserved a night out and being much too humble to admit that he was tired and still aching from his transition. She had dragged him back to his dorm, telling the boys to leave them alone for a few.

 Remus had blushed, a slight smirk on his face as they had entered the room, “Love, come on, we don’t have to do this. I’m fine. You got that new dress and everything.” 

Y/N had shaken her head furiously, stepping out of her school shoes and loosening her tie,  faking a hideously huge yawn. “Remus, I’m so tired. We can go later too, love.” She had whined. 

Remus chuckles slightly, a thumb brushing across a newly acquired scar not so secretly on his inner arm. He knew she was faking it, positively adorably at that. 

“Pleaseee.” Y/N pleads, walking up to him and wrapping her arms around his torso, gently. 

He sighs, burying his head into her hair and running his hand up and down her back. “Fine. But if I don’t get to see that dress, I’m going to be mad.”


And that’s how they had ended up here, Y/N, in one of his old flannels, staring at her boyfriend. He was so brave, so good to her. She tilt her head slightly, staring at him as he whines unconsciously, shifting so he isn’t lying directly on his shoulder. She sighs quietly, hating that he was in so much pain. Her y/e/c eyes fall upon a pink scar, new, on his cheek, slashing across his jawline. How had she not noticed it earlier? She tuts quietly, lifting a hand to reach over and brush her finger across it gently. She frowns,at the prickling feeling that’s replaced the usual smoothness of his skin. She glances at him for a moment, before leaning up on one elbow slightly and pressing a soft kiss to the scar. 

Remus’ brown eyes open, a lazy smile spreading across his face as he reaches a hand up and cups her cheek before she can turn away. “Hi there. Thought you wanted to nap.” He mumbles, voice still rough and sleepy. 

She smiles at him, looking up, “I did. Kind of got distracted though.” She whispers back. 

“Did you now?” He asks, grinning at her lazily as his thumb brushed back and forth against her cheek. 

“Mhm. It’s hard, you know, when there’s a handsome boy next to you.” She responds, reaching up to kiss his nose. He scrunches it, eyes pressed together and laughs slightly. 

“I’m not handsome.” He grumbles, pouting at her. She frowns at him, before sitting up and pulling away from him. 

“Hey!” He whines, reaching for her again.

 “Remus, you’re beautiful.” She mumbles, pushing his hip down as he tries to pull her into his chest. She scrambles quickly, straddling him as he huffs, careful not to actually sit on him. He looks up at her with curiosity, his hands flying up to hold her hips pulling her down completely, eyebrows furrowed together. “What’re you up too?” 

She frowns down at him, blinking, “Remus, you’re beautiful. You have to know that, alright?” He bites his lip, staring at her.

 She sighs, leaning down and pressing a finger into his chest, “Fine, you want to do things the hard way?” She lifts his shirt, squirming a little to expose his chest, cuts and bruises coloring it.

 “Y/N-” Remus begins, but she cuts him off with a shush, leaning down and pressing soft kisses to each bruise.

 Remus lets out a hearty sigh, not from pain, but like he’s relieved. Her finger brush over each scar, smiling lightly as his chest rises when her fingers press to his warm skin. 

“Sweetheart-” He begins, but is cut off when Y/N leans down and suddenly presses her lips to his, her y/h/c hair cascading down from behind her shoulders as she cups his cheeks and kisses him furiously. He’s shocked, at first, she’s never been so demanding, but his arms automatically wrap around her back, pulling her down closer. Her hands locked behind his hair, pulling him closer to her, as if he’ll disappear from under her as she slides her tongue across his bottom lip and easily gains entrance to his mouth. After a few more heated moments, he mumbles, against her lips,  “Love- c’mon We- need to breath.” 

She whines slightly, pulling away, forehead against hers. “W-what’s gotten into you, huh? What’s wrong?” He demands, staring up at her with concern.

 She closes her eyes, furiously. “Remus, nothing. I just- I wish you would see how special you are. I love you so much.” She mumbles quietly. He stares up at her in shock, eyes wide. They had been dating for quite some time now, be he still felt shy about his scars, and it bothered her. 

“T-these scars, Remus, they aren’t ugly or unattractive or hideous. Yes, I wish, you didn’t have them because it means you went through pain, but I love them. I reckon you think I’m mad, but I think they’re beautiful, Remus. It shows how strong you are. My strong boy.” Y/N rants, her breath rampant against his collarbone.

 Remus stiffens, just for a moment, before wrapping his arms tightly around her and flipping them over, her back hitting his creaky bed with a light thud. He looks down at her, one arm tight around her backside and one pressing to her cheek. He swallows, and speaks in a low voice, “Y-you really mean that, Y/N?” 

She looks at him, “Of course I do, Remus.” 

He doesn’t take a moment longer to press his lips to hers, but it’s not ravenous, it’s sweet, calm and gentle as if he wants time to slow down so this moment last forever. She sighs, one hand gripping onto his shoulder and pulling him closer, unconsciously. He lets out a hiss, leaning down closer to get away from the touch. “Sorry, sorry!” She whispers, pulling away. 

“No don’t, c'mere, c’mere don’t run away. Please.” He whines, pouting his lips at her. She giggles slightly, pressing a kiss to his jawline.

 “Let me take care of you, Remus.” She whines, her hand reaching back up to his shoulder and her fingers dipping under his shirt to press to his tender shoulder, lightly, of course. He sighs, kissing her temple. 

“But I want to cuddle you.”

 She snickers slightly, running her hand through his messy locks, “It’s not like I’m going anywhere, love.” He smiles at her, “Lay back for me.” 

He obliges, lying on his stomach, and she once again straddles his hips, pushing the fabric of his shirt up and kissing his shoulder slightly.

 “Re.. this one looks really bad.” She mumbles quietly, trailing her fingers softly over the purple bruise coloring his skin

. He grumbles into the pillow, “ Hurts.” She sighs, brushing her fingers a little tighter into the bruise. 

“Too hard?” She questions leaning down by his ear. “

 “S perfect, angel.” He mumbles, eyes closed and cheek pressed to the pillow. 

She sighs, pressing a kiss to the bruise and then one to his head before moving back down. She sits on his butt, and lets her hands wander the spanse of his back, trailing her index finger down his spine and back up again, bumping over the vertebrae. She press both her hands down, on opposite sides of his spine, pressing her knuckles in from time to time and she gives him a massage. Grunts of appreciation escape his mouth, and when she hits the spot just between his shoulder blades, he finally speaks, “Right there, love. Bit achy.” He admits through grit teeth.

 She moves up, sitting on his lower back now and kneads her knuckles into the spot, altering between her thumbs rubbing circles. He sighs, after a bit, before he reaches an arm back and pats her thigh, “ ‘m good, sweetheart. Hop off for me.” She does so, perching on her knees as he flops over, smiling at her. 

“How’d I get so lucky, huh?” He asks sweetly, reaching over and pulling her onto his lap as he sits up.

 “Mm. I think I should be asking you that.” She responds, as he nuzzles his head into her neck.

 “Let’s get some dinner, hm? Want to see that dress, on you and the floor.” He says, smirking against her skin as he kisses her neck.

 “Anything you want, my love.”

John Robert Tomlin spent his lunch hour in the library daily, studying. He was there the day the gunmen stormed the school. Hiding under a table, he welcomed a girl he didn’t know (Nicole Nowlen) into his hiding place when she grew scared where she was hiding and he held her hand to comfort her when the killers started shooting people in the library. Then the shooters came to their table. Without bending to see who was under the table, Eric Harris opened fire on John and Nicole, injuring them both with a blast from his shotgun. Then Dylan Klebold came around the table and shot John at point-blank range in the head, killing him almost instantly.

Willie, Willie, Harry, Steve
Harry, Dick, John, Harry Three.
Edward One, Two, Three, Dick Two
Henry Four, Five, Six then who?
Edward Four Five, Dick the Bad
Harrys twain and Ned, the lad.
Mary, Lizzie, James the Vain
Charlie, Charlie, James again.
William and Mary, Anne o'Gloria,
Four Georges, William and Victoria
Edward Seven, Georgie Five,
Edward, George and Liz (alive).
—  Rhyme to remember Kings & Queens of England
since William I (the Conqueror)
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John Harris born 1948 in London, England is a British painter and illustrator, best known for working in the science fiction genre. His paintings have been used on book covers for many science fiction authors, including Isaac Asimov, Frederik Pohl, Ben Bova, Orson Scott Card and Jack Vance. He currently lives in Devon, England. 

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