1 - 20 of 32 Bookmarks
Pages Navigation
List of Bookmarks
-
Tags
Summary
Sirius’ smirk has made itself at home on his face. Remus can see the half of a laugh jammed tight in the back of his throat, and he is forced to agree. It’s funny, clearly: the incongruity of Remus, grey and solitary as a driftwood pine, having anything at all to do with this woman—glossy, golden, pert, painfully young—dressed in—
“Is that a dirndl?” Sirius asks, and it is. Nominally.
There’s a bounce again—a spring —to the whole affair while she crosses the room, bright red cape gone blood-dark in the dim room, snagging on a sword, a light saber, a trident, the scales of a mermaid’s tail. She’s bumped, at the end—a little something extra sprinkled over the top of this soul-crumpling episode of ironic serendipity—so that she falls forward into him with those damnable breasts he’s faithfully failed to notice, and clings to him with a laugh.
He meditates on the impolite, antierotic itch of his unlined faux fur paws, and the sweltering manufactured fug behind the muzzle of the mask, but his hands sit at her hips, and they refuse to be moved.
“Oh, my.” She touches the tip of a soft plastic canine. “What big teeth you have.”
-
Bookmark Tags:
Bookmark Collections:
Bookmark Notes:
« She draws herself in closer, and Remus forces himself to not turn his hips away. Her belly is a soft, solid force, and he allows himself to feel it pushing against him.
“I’m shy,” he tells her, low and confessional. “I’m sorry.”
The daisies lie dripping in their plastic wrapper on the table beside the vase.
“That’s true of wolves, actually.” She takes his hand in hers, and slides it from her hip, forward, to her belly below her navel. “But not me.” »
« Lavender’s watching him, in her black dress with its twee collar and full skirt and little bats, her heavy blonde hair curling down to her waist and falling away from the sides of her beautiful breasts.
Remus wants nothing more than to hold her hand. »
-
Bookmark Collections:
-
Bookmark Tags:
-
Bookmark Tags:
Bookmark Notes:
this fic is DELIGHTFUL
While he tugs at the cap, he wonders at the audacity of living one’s life as Sirius Black.
What must it be like: to understand the line between being a man who has bad ideas, and being a bad man? To gleefully ride along the edge of it, to toss away all but your own discernment, to simply do what you would like to do so long as no one’s being harmed, to not worry about what your desires say about you, to call your godson’s half-dressed former girlfriend a bad idea to her waggishly smiling face at your kitchen table and to let yourself bask in the fallout, sated like a wolf that's helped itself to a lamb. A—
-
Bookmark Notes:
Remus and Lavender librarian au, one of my favs
-
Bookmark Notes:
Tr