marauders🌙✨☀️

Followed closely by the lovely smile that’s on your face when he opens the door and steps inside. 

“Hi, Bren.” You say softly, folding up a tiny onesie with stethoscopes on it. His heart swells at the sight, though the smile he gives you is chiding. 

“You aren’t supposed to be on the floor.” 

You don’t look even an ounce guilty at his words. You just slide the onesie into the drawer, grab another one to fold and shrug at him. “The rocking chair hasn’t arrived yet.” 

With a sigh, he slides down next to you, grabbing another onesie to fold along side you. They’re so small, he can hardly believe any baby of his will ever fit into them. You start humming again, the two of you filling the drawers of the dresser with soft baby clothes. 

He huffs as he stands up, then stops to admire your work. You raise your hands toward him. 

“Can you help me up?” 

He takes your hands in his and helps lift you from the ground, your swollen belly forcing you off-balance. But he’s there to steady you every time. 

You get a kiss on the lips as you stand beside him, and he slides his palm over your belly. He 

“How soon until we can have another one?” He asks.

You scoff, “Bren, I haven’t even given birth to the first one yet.” 

°˖✧✿✧˖°

You don’t like hearing voices you can’t see. You think you might try to shush them. Someone else laughs. 

“She’s not in the mood to be scolded right this moment, Sirius,” they say for you. 

The white light clicks off. “Do you know today’s date?” 

You frown, trying to see who’s behind you. The moment he comes into view, Sirius touches your head to still it, grinning at you. 

“He’s asking you, babe,” he says. “What day is it?” 

“Oh. Um…” You try to focus. “Saturday? I’m not at work.” 

“You’re not,” Sirius agrees. “Maybe if you had been, there would have been someone to catch you.” 

“What?”

“Sweetheart,” Remus recaptures your attention, “do you know your birthday?” 

It takes you a few moments, but you manage to scrounge up the date. Remus checks the tablet in his hands, confirming. 

“Dislocated shoulder, thready pulse,” the last disembodied voice says. James, you realize. It has to be James. These three always come as a set. 

“How did you…get here?” you ask. 

Sirius’ voice is light, but you like to think that after so many visits, you know him well enough to hear the touch of concern in it. “Someone called it in.” 

“But…” 

“It must have been you,” James fills in the blanks. “You’re the only one here.” 

“I called you?” 

“Looks that way, lovely,” he says, folding your arm across your chest. You hiss when it tugs painfully. 

You can’t wrap your head around it. It was always your flatmate who called emergency services, no matter how often you told her your fainting wasn’t cause for alarm and you didn’t need paramedics to come every time. You think maybe she liked to gawp at them (you can’t wholly blame her for that). The last time this trio had been forced to come lift your legs and feed you water, you’d joked about how they’d stop getting calls soon because you were moving into a place all your own. You’re beginning to piece together why Sirius keeps going on about that being a poor choice. 

He strokes your forehead now, coaxing you to look at him. Sirius’ eyes have lost their playfulness, uncharacteristically soft. “You okay?” 

“Yeah, I just…” You blink hard, trying to dispel the thick fog that’s clouding your thoughts. “I don’t remember.” 

“It looks like you fainted and probably clipped your head on the counter,” says Remus. “You must have gone down fairly hard; you knocked your shoulder out as well.” 

“You scared the shit out of us, you know,” Sirius chides you. “We had to break the lock on your door when no one came to answer it.” 

“You…what?” 

“Yeah, sorry about that.” James sends you a not-very-sorry smile. “It might be worth reconsidering cohabitation, love.” 

“Not,” Remus says pointedly, “that you have to think about that right this moment. Does anything else hurt or feel strange?”

You take a breath. “I don’t think so.” 

“Okay.” Sirius gives you a small smile. He works his hand under your shoulders. The other, you realize, is holding something tightly to your head. “Let’s get you moving, then.” 

James counts down from three, and you whimper as you’re lifted into the air, the pain in your shoulder flaring. Sirius shushes you as you’re settled onto a backboard. 

“I know, I know,” he soothes. “We’ll get you some pain meds as soon as we’re in the ambulance. Hang in there.” 

“Ambulance?” you warble.

“Yeah, ambulance,” James laughs. The three of them lift your gurney up, wheeling you out of your kitchen. “This didn’t go quite the same as your usual spells, if you haven’t noticed. We can’t just leave you here with a bottle of water and a pat on the head this time.” 

“Might not have happened if you hadn’t moved in by yourself,” Sirius sing-songs. 

“Enough.” Remus shoots him an exasperated look. “Don’t lecture her.” 

“We’re only worried about her,” James protests. 

“She can’t properly process it now, anyways.” 

Your eyes wander about the space, and they end up falling on another one of the paramedics. This one has a straight nose with a scar that crosses over it, a snag for your attention. You feel bad when he catches you staring.

"Did I really throw up?" you ask him in a whisper.

Stepping into the ambulance behind you, the third in their trio gives a sharp bark of laughter.

The scarred one looks at you compassionately. "You did, yeah. It's normal after fainting."

"You were very considerate about it, I'm told," the third offers, several piercings flashing when he brushes a vagabond strand of hair behind his ear. "Managed to ask for a bucket and everything. That's a lot to coordinate after just waking up."

"I don't remember," you admit, mortified.

"That's normal, too," the one with the glasses reassures you. "Remus, I'll do ice packs if you start an IV?"

Your stomach drops straight through the gurney and the floor of the truck. None of the men around you appear to notice; the one who must be Remus nods, and they all continue with what they're doing.

The third paramedic finds his way into your eyeline. "I don't think we've been properly introduced," he says, as though you're at a soiree and not nearly boneless from the heat outside. "I'm Sirius. What's your name, lovely?"

You tell him, glad when your mouth cooperates, even if it doesn't seem to be fully connected to your brain just yet.

"Y/n," Sirius repeats it back to you, "this is James. He's going to put a few cold packs on you to try and get you cooled down, but we need you to tell us if anything starts to hurt, okay?"

"Okay…"

Under normal circumstances, a man placing ice packs in your armpits and around your groin would take up more of your attention. Now, it all zeros in on where a rubber tourniquet has tightened around your arm. Sirius catches the look.

"Hey," he says, all the sharp humor of him gentling, "it's okay. Do you want a hand?"

You can't bring yourself to move, but when Sirius' fingers wrap around yours you squeeze them tightly.

"Just lifting you up for a sec," James mumbles, placing an ice pack beneath your neck. He lowers you back down onto it. "There we go. Does that feel alright?"

You don't think you can speak. You try to nod.

"Yeah?" His tone softens, a wrinkle appearing between his brows. "Can you take a deep breath for me?"

You do your best, but it stutters and stings on the way in.

"Remus," Sirius says warningly.

"Yeah," Remus replies. "Hey, it's alright. I'm not doing anything for now. Just take a moment."

You turn to see. After the tourniquet comes undone with a quick motion, James takes your face and directs you to look at him.

"Copy me." He places your hand on his chest, taking deep breaths.

You do two with him. On the third, you choke on tears. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay. It's fine, sweetheart. We just want to help."

"Heat exhaustion plus a panic attack would be a really shit afternoon for you," Sirius points out.

James' lips twitch. It relaxes you enough to take a few more deep breaths with him. Even once you've settled, James doesn't let you go. He keeps you there, cupped in the basin of his palms.

"What can we do to make this easier for you?" Remus asks.

You shake your head. Embarrassed tears burn your sinuses. "I don't know. I'm really sorry."

"You don't have to be sorry," he soothes. "Would it help if I told you what was happening, or would you rather not know?"

"I—I want to know."

"Okay. I can do that."

You feel Sirius press his fingers to your wrist for a minute before he takes your hand again. He must then give some signal to Remus, who begins pressing his fingers into the crook of your elbow shortly after.

"You have good veins," he says conversationally.

You must look as baffled as you feel, because James grins. "Um…thanks?"

"What?" Sirius teases. "Has no one ever complimented you on your excellent veins before?"

"Not really."

You feel the tourniquet again, and Sirius squeezes your fingers when you tense.

"Just cleaning now," murmurs Remus.

"The saline has been in the refrigerator all day." James begins rubbing his thumb over your cheek slowly, a tranquilizing back-and-forth. "It should make you feel tons better. Let us know if you start to get too cold, though."

"Speaking of," says Sirius, "how are those cold packs feeling?"

"Deep breath," Remus warns. You gulp one in and hold it, and the others seem to understand you're no longer up for talking. "Small pinch on three—one, two, three…"

You squeeze your eyes shut. James makes a terribly soft shushing sound, and he strokes his thumb down your cheek just as Remus says, "That's it."

You let your air out.

"There we go." Sirius sounds ridiculously proud as he squeezes your hand in his. "You're okay, lovely, it's done. You did so well."

James lets go of your face—of course, just when you were getting rather comfortable hiding in his hands. "Thanks," you sigh, humiliatingly breathless. You look at Remus, careful to keep your eyes away from your own arm. Your chest is still tight. "I actually hardly felt it."

"Pretty good for his first time, eh?" James asks.

You think you must lose color very fast, because Sirius squeezes your hand again and Remus says James' name in a scolding tone.

"It's just being on my feet all day." You don't mean to whine. You work with people who have been doing this job for years or decades; you're loath to think what their backs must feel like, how they can continue through every shift. "I'll get used to it."

Remus isn't glaring at you anymore. He looks rather put out. They all do, actually.

"What?" you ask, exasperated.

James holds his hands up. "Nothing. Don't get mad."

You quiet your voice. "I'm not mad."

"No," Sirius agrees, squishing into the armchair with you, "you're tired, baby. And you're hurting, yeah? It's shit."

You accept his invitation of a lifted arm and rest your head on his shoulder. It is shit.

"Would you sleep with the heating pad tonight?" asks Remus.

You shift, feeling the achey stretch of your muscles. "Maybe," you hedge. "It's not really that bad."

"Try, please." His tone oozes soft concern. You think that you'll be too hot all night if you wear the heating pad, but you'll likely do it anyway just to appease him. James sets a box down on the coffee table with finality, and they both begin taking out the pieces for the game. "If it doesn't feel any better tomorrow, maybe we can get you in to see a chiropractor."

Thinking of tomorrow presses a sigh from your chest. "I can't. I have to work."

Sirius' chin bumps your head as he turns to look at you. James and Remus have both stalled in their movements. "Tomorrow?" Sirius asks.

"Yeah."

"Since when?"

"Since today. My manager asked me to."

"Fuck that guy." It's said brashly, with enough feeling to startle you. "What's he need you there for?"

You shrug. "Apparently somebody's sick."

"Well, maybe you'll be sick tomorrow, too."

"He saw me today. I doubt he'll be convinced I caught something overnight."

"You can say you have diarrhea," offers James. "That comes on fast, and nobody ever wants to know more details."

Your lips part on a breathless laugh. "I can't!"

"You could," Remus counters.

"He won't have any follow-up questions," James goes on encouragingly, "promise."

"Why do you all want me to call in so badly?"

"Because your back is in bits!" Sirius exclaims.

You feel your eyebrows go up. "You weren't so worried about it a minute ago."

"That was when we thought you had tomorrow off." James is frowning, a sure sign things have gone awry. There's a troubled little divot sitting above the bridge of his glasses. "I mean, angel, you haven't had a day off in…when was the last time you had a day off?"

"It wasn't that long ago," you mumble. As though you haven't been counting your shift days like tally marks in a prison cell. "Last Tuesday."

Sirius looks at you sternly. "Baby—"

"Don't," you whine.

"—you need a break."

You let a breath out through your nose, looking at him dejectedly. The lines of your boyfriend's face soften. It's strange to resent being so cared for.

"I know," you admit, "but I need to work."

Remus nods. "You do need to work."

You nod back at him, relieved. He understands. Sirius and James have jobs, but they don't know what it is to need money, to perceive it as something that can run out. Weathering discomfort to keep that from happening is something Remus can understand that they can't.

"You don't need to work as much as you have been, though," he says gently. "You need breaks, too. Going over a week without a day off, that's too much, sweetheart."

Now it's you glaring at Remus. Sirius snickers as you shrink down his side. "You're ganging up on me."

"God, it's almost like we're trying to help you," Sirius teases.

"I really don't think I can call my manager and lie tomorrow."

He tsks, rubbing your arm. "I'll do it for you. More believable that way, anyway. I can tell him you're on the toilet and so distraught you can't come to the phone."

You moan and turn your face into his side.

"Don't say that," James laughs. "I'll do it."

"No, you can't," says Remus.

"Why not?"

"You'll laugh," Sirius and Remus say over one another.

You don't have to move from Sirius' side to envision the put-out-but-conceding look on James' face.

"We'll have Remus do it," Sirius says with finality. "He won't use any toilet humor, and he's the best liar anyway."

"Fine," says Remus.

"Fine," you groan. You pick your head up, looking at him somewhat abashedly. "Thank you."

Remus' look goes painfully tender. "Love you. Look after yourself, please."

"Yeah, I love you, too."

"Hey," James objects, "I offered to call, too."

Your lips tug. "Thank you for offering, lovely."

"And you love me too, right?" He sits up on his knees, angling for a kiss.

When you lean down to meet him, your back clicks.

"Ugh!" James flinches back from you. Remus' eyes narrow, as though by pavlovian response, into a glare.

"I didn't do it on purpose!" you defend yourself.

“Moons, you need to relax.” He drawled salaciously, watching you carry on in your potion brewing apparently ignorant to the attention you were getting - from your potions partner and your boyfriends alike. 

“He’s practically drooling over her.” His boyfriend hissed again, and Sirius was well aware. 

Sirius had a hunch that your potions partner fancied you, and as much as that should vex him, he could hardly blame the sod, could he?

The way you turned all bashful when he praised your technique, offered you a beaming smile when the two of you concocted a perfect potion, or - and Sirius actually thought you might have simply melted into the stone floor at this one - when he deigned to tell you that you looked lovely today.

And you did - look lovely, that is. And Remus and Sirius had told you as much on your way to class, and you’d done your usual; your one shoulder migrated up to your ear as you tilted your head away from them, chewing aggressively on your lip in an attempt to fight off the smile threatening to take over your face, and responding only with simple one word answers for the rest of the trek to potions. It was adorable. 

You were adorable.

It was also adorable to watch you sort of recognise that someone was complimenting you whilst also actively working to convince yourself that he was simply being nice. 

And maybe he was simply just being nice.

But Sirius called bullshit.

And from the fact that he could hear Remus’ teeth grinding from across their shared potions station, it appeared that Moony did too. 

“Can you blame him? She’s adorable.” 

Remus made a reluctant sound of assent, slumping further in his stool as he continued to glower at your potions partner. “She’s mine.” 

“She’s adorable and she’s yours, Rem.” Sirius assured him, squeezing affectionately at Remus’ knee before finally taking pity on him and making his way towards your potions station. 

It was inappropriate, and Sirius knew he’d be in the doghouse for such abhorrent and public displays of affection, but he simply couldn’t help himself. Sirius sidled up behind you and slunk his arms around your middle, resting his chin on your shoulder as he pulled you in flush with his body and did nothing to fight against the smile that took over his face at the surprised yelp that escaped your lips. 

“How’s the potion making going?” He asked simply, shooting a wink at your admirer who, too, flushed under his attention, though for a very different reason. 

You simply hissed his name and refused to look at him.

“Hm?” He carried on unperturbed, giving your middle a little squeeze to encourage a response. “Your potions partner looks at you like you’ve hung the moon; must be going well?” 

“Sirius, go away…” You mumbled halfheartedly. “You’re going to get us in trouble.” 

“Professor Slughorn’s asleep, doll.” He explained breezily, snorting at your disappointed groan when you turned to find that Slughorn was, indeed, asleep. “‘Sides, I couldn’t handle Moony’s pouting any longer.” 

If you were a dog, your ears would’ve perked at that, and for the first time since Sirius appeared at your workstation did you turn towards him. “Why’s he pouting?”

“Oh, you’re killing him over here, babe.” 

“Me? Why?” You asked, looking genuinely concerned that you might’ve done something to upset your sweeter of two boyfriends. Sirius almost felt bad.

Almost. 

Sirius tsked as if you’d asked a ridiculous question. “Come now. You’re over here being your stunning, brilliant self. I know it, Moony knows it-” his voice drops down to a whisper as he brings his lips to your ear “your potions partner knows it.”

You elbowed him in the ribs for that.

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry, but come on, look at how pathetic Remus looks, hm?” Sirius cooed in faux commiseration, turning your body towards where Remus was sitting and doing an awful job pretending to not be watching the two of you from across the classroom. “Can you go give him a kiss, please? For me?”

“Sirius, we’re in class.” You pouted, though he could tell the fight was quickly leaving you as you continued to watch your rather petulant boyfriend. 

“Just a little peck, doll. A quick one; no one will notice, I’ll keep watch.” He promised, sending you off with a quick pat to your hip as he leaned against your potions table to watch. 

You wrung your hands together in front of you as you stepped up to Remus’ potions station, and Sirius watched any residual ire from Remus’ frame melt at the sight of you.

“I know better than anyone how adorable she is, mate, but if you can’t stop ogling my girlfriend, can you at least stop pissing off my boyfriend?” Sirius asked your potions partner jovially; a charade of nonchalance and cordiality as he smiled plainly at him. “Otherwise I’ll let him come over here next time.”

Sirius watched the sod’s brows furrow before he stole a glance over at you and Remus, his adam's apple bobbing almost theatrically when he was met with the sight of you - distracted - helping Remus with his potion and Remus glowering at him. 

“Yeah, see, you get it.” Sirius smiled brightly as he clapped him on the shoulder. “Good chat.” 

And Sirius made his way back over to his own potions station to see you pressing one shoulder to your ear as you turned away from Remus and chewed on the inside of your cheek, and Remus looking far more pleased with himself than he had any business being.

You open it silently, in the way that only you seem to know how to do (no matter how James tries to avoid waking everyone when he leaves for his morning runs, that thing always squeaks) and step inside on soft feet. James smothers a grin as Remus' head turns in your direction.

You have a tendency to creep through the house like you're hoping you'll go unnoticed. You rarely do, and James feels sort of bad for thinking it's funny when you're thwarted every time.

"Hiya," says James. "Late night at work?"

"Yeah." You glance up, not necessarily looking surprised at having been caught again. (You may be getting used to it.) A smile flickers like light across your lips as you toe off your shoes. "Hi."

"Oi!" Sirius turns around in his chair to face you. James and Remus both wince. Sirius' tone is nothing but friendly, but oi is not a way to win you over. You tense like you're on trial. "What are you doing tonight?"

"Um, nothing important. Why?"

Sirius' excitement grows. "We're going out in a bit. You should come."

"Oh." Your voice quiets, as though making itself small while you crouch to pick up your shoes. "Thanks, but I'm pretty tired."

"It won't really be a big night out," Remus tries in a gentler tone. "We're only going to a bar nearby. We'll be back by midnight."

"Like Cinderella," adds James, trying to get a smile out of you. It works, sort of.

"I think I'm going to stay in," you say apologetically, "but you all have fun."

"Won't be as much fun without you." Sirius pouts.

You press your lips into a good-humored smile, and flee to your room.

Sirius heaves a sigh.

"Shush," Remus chides him, "she'll hear you."

"She never wants to do anything," Sirius whines.

"Maybe because you keep rushing her."

"It's been weeks!"

"She'll warm up eventually," says James, taking care to keep his voice low. "She's just settling in. And maybe bars aren't her scene."

Sirius wrinkles his nose. "Do we have to start a knitting club for her to hang out with us?"

"It could be a fun new hobby."

"You should talk to her," Remus says.

James looks at him, and finds himself being looked at in return. "Me?"

"Ooh, that's a good idea." Sirius leans forward, glitter flashing animatedly. "Get her to go with us tonight."

"Why me?"

"Because she likes you best."

"Wha—not more than any of us!"

"She's more relaxed with you," says Remus matter-of-factly. "Just give it a try, alright?"

James argues the notion of his preferential treatment for a while longer, but ultimately finds himself at your door, knocking politely. "Can I come in?"

There's no answer. After knocking some more and casting a frightened look back towards the kitchen—to which Sirius responds with an insistent shooing motion—James cracks open the door, half expecting you to already be asleep.

You're not. You're still in your work clothes, laying on your bed with earbuds plugging your ears. You take them out when you see James.

"I tried to knock," he apologizes.

"It's okay." You sit up, blinking at him. You look like you're worried you might be in trouble. "What's up?"

"I'm here to make a case," he admits. "Can I come in?"

Wary, you nod.

James steps inside, shutting the door behind him. You shuffle backwards on your bed, making room, though he isn't sure if he should sit. She's more relaxed with you, Remus had said. James doesn't know if that's true, but you do seem more at ease in your own room, your gaze steady on his. He sits on the bed.

"I don't want to pressure you," he starts out. "You don't have to come if you don't want to, but we would like it if you went out with us. Are you really too tired?"

Your shoulder comes up in a half-shrug. "I don't know…it was a long night."

"Like Remus said, we won't be out long. This place is small—it closes at midnight. Sirius will try to get us to go somewhere else after, but we can tell him no."

That smile is back, quick as a struck match. Its warmth lingers in your eyes. "Can we?"

"It's not easy, but it can be done. Remus will champion us."

You look at your lap. James hopes you're thinking about it rather than thinking about how to tell him no. Your fingers tap on your leg.

"We don't even have to stay until close," he bargains. "Give us an hour, and if you want to leave I'll walk you home."

You look startled. "Why do you want me to go so badly?"

"Because—" There's no keeping the earnestness from his voice. "—we want to hang out with you."

You really shy, then. Shoulders drawing in, lashes kissing at the corners. James wants to wrap you up.

"So," he says to rescue you, "an hour?"

"You don't have to walk me home," you murmur.

"Sorry, I'm afraid that part is non-negotiable. I don't mind, though, if it helps."

Your head gives a little shake. James doesn't know if it's directed at him or yourself. "I'm going to need to change."

A grin splits James' face at the realization that he's convinced you. "Take your time," he says. "Sirius is still working on his makeup anyway, and you've only just gotten home from work. We're not in any big hurry."

"Okay." You finally meet his eyes again as he stands to leave, your look sweet. "Thanks, James."

"Thank you," he replies sincerely.

He's smiling gigantically as he steps out into the hallway, closing your door behind him. It gives him away immediately.

Sirius' eyes pop. "Really?"

"Yeah," James whispers, feeling like you as he creeps quietly back to the kitchen. "She's going to be a minute, but she'll come. For an hour, at least."

Sirius pumps his fist in the air. Remus looks smug as he plates up his dinner.

"Told you it'd work," he hums.

Sirius jumps out of his chair to plant a kiss on James' cheek. "You're a legend!"

At Remus' urgent shushing and James' frightened glance toward your doorway, he covers his mouth with both hands, wincing.

﹒⭒﹒⭒﹒⭒﹒

I wrote it while waiting for a doctor's appointment lol. Also, no title because i can't think of anything 😭

────୨ৎ────

"Can you calm your baby down?" A thick, not so kind voice says behind your back. "My head is pounding from all this crying and screaming."

You tense, and so does your baby when she feels your arms tightening around her small body. You glance behind your shoulder, just to be met with an annoyed expression on an older's man face. He's holding onto his injured hand. The white bandage wrapped around it is already soaked with blood.

"I'm trying." You reply, trying your best to sound kind despite the frustration shimmering inside of you. "But she's sick. I can't just magically heal her."

"I don't care what you can and what you can't." The man snaps. Murmurs of other people follow, but no one tries to help you out or defend you. "Just shut her up. That's all I'm asking."

You close your eyes and start counting your breaths.

One, two, three, four...

Your baby is still fussing, her forehead hot and sweaty where it rests against your shoulder. Her small fists are clenched around your cardigan, her body practically limp in your arms, exhausted from the flu.

"For Christ's sake." The man curses.

You don't have time to react before he raises from his seat, droplets of blood staining the white floor, and stands right in front of you, with fists clenched and fuming with unreasonable anger.

"Shut your baby up. Right now."

You step back, but he only gets closer. His hand, the healthy one, raises and for a second you're scared he'll hit you or your baby.

But then, you feel a familiar weight of Remus' hand on your shoulder. "Not only your hand will bleed if you keep talking to my wife like that."

A look of uncertainty crosses older man's face. He steps back and lowers his arm.

"Sorry, mate. I didn't know she was here with you." He says.

Remus doesn't back down. "Even if she was here all alone, you have no right to threaten a woman, any woman, especially not when she is with a baby. Have some bloody respect."

"Chill, mate." The man smirks. "I wasn't threatening your wife."

Remus presses his lips together. "Sure you weren't. You were just casually invading her personal space, am i right?"

"Listen, you're exaggerating this whole situation. Nothing bad happened. We were just talking, right, sweetie?"

You grimace at the pet name that comes out of his mouth. You step back once again, wanting to create some distance between you and him. Remus' hand wraps protectively around your waist and he brings you closer to him. Luna, your baby, reaches for him and Remus kisses her forehead, which helps her settle down a little.

Then, his gaze moves back to the man.

"Go or God help me, i'll make you bleed more than you already do."

Suprisingly, the man complies. Or so you think he does.

He steps aside, huffing and muttering under his breath, but before he walks back to his seat, he decides to add his two cents.

"Cunt."

Wrong move. Safe to say, it's Remus' last straw.

Before you or anyone in the waiting room can react, Remus' hand lands on the man's face. The sound of a nose breaking resonates through the room and blood, hot and crimson, stars flowing down the man's front, staining both his shirt and trousers.

You gasp, and so does everyone else, including the rude man. Tense silence falls in the room. Everyone seem to hold their breath in anticipation. Luna wiggles in your arms, confused as to why is it so silent out of sudden, but you press her closer to your chest and back away from the source of commotion.

"Call my wife like this one more time, and you're dead." Remus spits out. There's furry in his eyes and you swear he doesn't look like himself. "I swear you are."

Then, Remus turns to you and grabs your hand. Gently, but firmly, he starts steering you out of the waiting room. Your daughter begins to cry in distress.

You protest. "But we need to see the doctor..."

Remus interrupts. "I'll find Luna another doctor, don't you worry."

────୨ৎ────

You laugh at his misery. "I love that you're so compassionate, but maybe this could be good for you. You should see what life is like for those of us who make fools of ourselves more regularly."

Remus scoffs. Only when the scene ends does he he uncover his eyes, taking a handful of popcorn from the bowl in your lap. "You're a masochist," he says, munching anxiously.

You lean your head on his shoulder. "You love me anyway."

You get a hum in return, and then Remus' body tenses as more on-screen embarrassment ensues. With little warning, your eyes begin to burn fiercely. You stand and mumble that you're going to the restroom. Remus reaches for the remote.

"No, don't pause it," you say. "I've already seen this part."

You lock the bathroom door behind you. Stare at your reflection in the mirror, like you can stop this before it starts if you're stern enough with yourself. It doesn't work.

An uncomfortable heat builds in your throat as tears form indistinct deltas on your cheeks. You take a piece of toilet paper from the roll to wipe beneath your nose when it starts to run. It was petty and cruel to test Remus, but you keep doing it anyway, and it never goes how you wish it will. You only wanted him to say that he loved you. Even if it was only in agreement.

You make yourself breathe slowly. No sounds escape the bathroom.

When your eyes look normal and you feel like you have a leash on your emotions, you unlock the door. Remus has paused the film. You're self-conscious of the squeak of the sofa as you sit down beside him.

"I told you you didn't have to pause it," you murmur.

"I know," he says, nudging the bowl of popcorn back into your lap, "but you like this film, and I didn't want to watch without you. Is everything okay?"

You're grateful to have the popcorn to avoid giving a full answer. You hum around a mouthful.

Remus pokes your leg, where you've curled up with your cold toes underneath you. Ordinarily you'd stuff them under Remus' thigh while sitting here like this, but you've kept away from him unconsciously. "Cold?"

"Guess so."

Remus hums knowingly, standing. He sets his hand briefly on the top of your head as he passes by, a small gesture of affection. Your heart wrings itself out like a wet rag.

He returns shortly with a pair of your winter socks. You can hardly look at him as he tugs them on for you, breathing out a soft, "Thanks."

"You alright?" he asks, with all the lightness of unsuspicion; he probably assumes you're only tired, or possibly suffering an upset stomach.

You reply that you are, thinking that it's you who should be asking him. Remus doesn't usually beat around the bush, but he has been for weeks with this. If he's going to end things with you, you don't understand why he hasn't done it yet. Why you're sitting here watching films and bantering when he can't bring himself to say that he loves you.

Remus reaches for you. "Come here, then."

It's the simplicity of it that does you in. To be asked for your closeness so casually, and to know that each night you have with him could be the last, and you won't know which it is. Heat floods your sinuses.

You press your lips together hard to keep them from trembling. Remus looks stricken.

"What?" he breathes.

You shake your head, cheeks wet again. "Sorry."

"Did something happen?" His tone is all soft concern. "Lovely, what's wrong?"

"I—"

Two things happen seemingly at once: your voice fractures, and Remus drags you into his lap.

"That's alright," he shushes you. "I'm sorry, take your time. You're alright."

It is easier to voice it into the curve of Remus' neck. Even now, his scent is lulling, like home. He holds you steady until you work up the guts.

"I don't think you love me anymore," you whisper.

Remus goes still.

His lack of a denial hollows you out. A rushing fills your ears, and you almost don't hear him when he asks, "Don't I get a say in that?"

You back off from him, confused. Uncaring of your swollen eyes and wet nose.

Remus doesn't look very different. Less of a mess, more hurt than heartbroken, but doubly as confused. His hands settle on your hips. "I think if I'd fallen out of love with you, I'd have noticed," he says.

"You never say it." You don't mean for it to sound as accusatory as it does; the wounded bent to Remus' brows deepens.

"I don't?"

"No," you murmur.

"Well, I…" His eyes flit over you, like he's looking for something. You'd give it to him if you knew what it was. "I suppose I didn't think I had to. I thought you knew."

Your voice thins, but you force it out. "Do you still love me?"

"Yes," he breathes. "I thought that was obvious. Do you, still?"

"Of course." It feels awful of him to ask you, as if you haven't spent the past month loving him so loudly, hoping it would echo back at you. "I tell you all the time."

"People can say things they don't mean, sweetheart," he murmurs gently. "Did you mean it?"

Whatever pain breaks across your expression is enough to make Remus flinch, his fingers tightening around your hips. "Of course," you say.

"Okay." Remus' forehead drops to yours. Tears drip from your chin into the space between your bodies. "I'm sorry," he says, sounding hoarse, "that I haven't made you feel loved."

"It's not about how I feel. It's that you never say it."

"I didn't think I had to," he says again, quietly. "I do love you, though. Very much." He finds your hand, rubbing his pinkie against yours. "I don't put on masochistic comedy films for just anyone."

A wet laugh bubbles out of you. It's a joke, but it's true. Remus bears a number of things he ordinarily wouldn't, even for James or Sirius, because you ask him to. He does things you don't ask him for, too. Putting on the kettle just before you get home on chilly evenings, and keeping track of your car's maintenance so he can take it to the mechanic for you. Bringing you a pair of warm socks when he notices your feet are cold.

Remus threads his fingers through yours. "I'm sorry. I can say it more often."

"I think," you hesitate, "I could probably listen better. To when you tell me in your way."

His eyes warm. "I could tell you more, too."

"Maybe just sometimes? So I don't forget."

Sharing the Head Boy and Girl dormitory with your boyfriend, Cedric, was often something you thought of as a blessing. You got your own privacy with having your own room, but you and Cedric got privacy from the rest of the school as well. Privacy to do exactly what you wanted with each other. And that privacy resulted in the two of you exploring your sexual relationships further than you could have in a small twin bed in shared dormitories. 

One thing led to another and that brought you to your current predicament - tied to the bed with a vibrator magically attached to your swollen clit. 

To be fair, you kinda earned it. 

You had been bothering Cedric all afternoon, despite his instance on actually getting some work done on a rare day off. You thought you could bait him enough that he’d finally comply with your request to fuck you stupid, but he stuck to his guns. 

He warned you to drop it, told you that if you were good you’d get what you wanted eventually. But there was no bone in your body that wanted to be ‘good’ when you wanted him that desperately. 

So naturally, he dragged your bratty ass into the bedroom, stripped you bare, and tied you to the bed. Only after he magically secured the vibrator against your body did he announce that he was going back into the common room to get some work done and that he’d be back later. 

According to you, it was ‘later’, despite the fact that you had no idea how long you had been left there. Three orgasms had gone through your body and you were sensitive and whining. You barely had a chance to catch your breath before the arousal would grow inside of you again, the pleasure on the line of pain at this point. 

“Cedric, please,” you called out for him, praying that he’d release you soon. 

You head whipped to the side when you heard the door creak open, revealing your boyfriend in all his glory, looking like he was completely unaffected by the sight before him. 

Your body was covered in a layer of sweat, your skin flushed the pretty shade of pink he loved so much, and you knew your pussy was a swollen mess. 

“Think you can be good for me now?” Cedric asked, rounding the bed so he was leaning against the footboard - the perfect spot to take in all of you, completely exposed to him. 

“Yes, please make it stop,” you whined, your legs attempting to trash against their bindings. 

Cedric chuckled as he looked at you, but made no move to undo the ropes. 

“Give me one more. Be a good girl and cum one more time for me,” he said gently, but you knew it was a command. 

“It’s starting to hurt,” you pouted, but you knew honesty would get you nowhere once his mind was made up. You both knew you had a safeword if you really wanted this to stop. 

“Then it’s a good thing I’m only asking for one more, hm?” He replied with a smirk, knowing his question was a trap. If you fought him even a little bit, you’d only end up in more trouble. And if you agreed, you just proved that he was right. So you let yourself fall into the sensations of the vibrator, pushing you further and further to the edge every time it pulsed against you. 

He simply stood and watched you, as if he wanted to be nowhere else in the entire world. He made no move to pleasure himself or help you along, just let his eyes trail up and down your body. You hated and loved when he got like that. As much as you hated undivided attention on you for that long, the way he looked at you almost pushed you into your fourth orgasm. He looked at you as if you were his entire world, as if he would be content to just watch you writhe and squirm on the bed for the rest of his life. It made you feel powerful despite the situation you found yourself in. 

“Just like that. Such a good girl. Cum for me,” he said, his voice several octaves lower than when he entered the room, a clear signal that watching you was affecting him in a way that you couldn’t quite see. 

His voice brought you out of your own thoughts and right when your eyes met his, your orgasm shot through your body, forcing a scream to come out of your mouth at the intensity. It was that painful pleasure that left you dizzy, that Cedric was so good at giving you. It was somewhere in that line that you could spend an eternity straddling with him, wanting nothing more than to feel it over and over again. 

As you were coming down Cedric drew his wand, undid all the bindings, and turned off the vibrator, letting it fall ungracefully down onto the bed. He was quick to pull you in his arms, tucking you into his side as he joined you on the bed. 

“How does a quick bath before dinner sound?” He asked once you had caught your breath, pulling away slightly so he could look down at your face. 

You contemplated pouting, because you still hadn’t gotten what you truly wanted: him. But you knew that would ensure that you ended your night without him as well. But you still wanted him so bad even four orgasms couldn't satiate that need inside of you. 

He must have seen the internal debate going on, because he simply raised an eyebrow at you. You gave him a quick nod, causing him to chuckle.

“Oh, you’re never gonna learn,” he commented, but he picked you up bridal style to bring you into the bathroom nonetheless. “How does this sound? If you’re good during your bath and dinner, there’s a good chance we’ll take our desert up here,” he asked finally, still effortlessly holding you as you waited for the water to fill up. 

Strange looks.

Cg!Draco x little!reader

y/n woke up in her private dorm feeling little and happy. She throws the blankets off her walking over to her closet, grabbing her black and blue robes. Humming a song while she gets dressed she thinks of seeing her daddy in the great hall for breakfast, speeding up her usual morning routine before leaving her dorm. The common room only had a couple students in there, she assumes the rest of the ravenclaw house is either still sleeping or already at breakfast. 

On her way to the great hall y/n was smiling ear to ear excited to see draco. When she gets closer she can hear everyone, and starts skipping to get there faster. Once there she looks over at the slytherin table trying to find the head of white hair that she knows so well. When she spots him, she grins before skipping over to the slytherin table causing every other table to look at her. y/n is a sweet ravenclaw why is she going over to that table? They think. 

When she walks up behind Draco she could hear all the confused whispers and feel the stares in the back of her head but she couldn't care less as she wrapped her arms around Draco´s shoulders feeling him tense up before realizing who was hugging him. “Hello my love” he says turning to look at her, she kisses his cheek “good morning” she says happily while sitting down next to him biting her lip, looking at the food with wide eyes.

Draco leans towards her and whispers in her ear  “are you little right now baby?”  watching as she grabs some porridge before looking at him. She nods at him slowly while taking a bite of her food. Draco smiles and puts his arm around her waist pulling her closer to him. He looks around the great hall to see almost everyone staring at them, before turning back to y/n “you know everyones staring at us right little one?” he says quietly to her causing her to look around and shrug “i don't care. I'm wifh  you daddy i'm safe” she says quietly even though there's nobody sitting near them like always, there both still cautions not wanting people to know stuff about their lives. 

When Draco hears that leave her mouth he can't help the huge smile that spreads across his face. The thought that she trusts Draco enough to let him be her caregiver and now knowing that she feels safe when she's with him, like nothing can hurt her is just the best thing ever to him. 

While he was lost in his thoughts y/n held up her spoon with some of the porridge on it. “Try dis daddy its really good” she says poking his lips with the spoon until he opens his mouth. He hums and tells her it's the best thing he's ever eaten.  She goes back to eating while draco just stares at her with nothing but love in his eyes, kissing her temple he says “i love you sweet girl”  she looks up at him smiling “i love you too daddy” she says going to kiss his cheek but he stops her causing her to pout “let me wipe your face baby you have porridge all over your face” he says laughing a little. 

James wriggles his fingers underneath the stretchy material of your bathing suit, and you catch your lip between your teeth. An afternoon swim was your cover story. It wasn't a very convincing one; James' friends know about you already, and everyone will soon if Sirius continues waggling his eyebrows at you both every time you speak to each other.

"Where are you?" James mumbles from your neck.

You shake your head. "Sorry. I'm just thinking, they're probably nearly done, right?"

"I'm not sure," he says, unconcern audible. "Even if they are, it'll be fine. They won't find us."

"They know we came down here, though."

James takes a moment to consider this. "If they find us," he allows, "I'll run off, and everyone will be too distracted by my nakedness to see you. You can say you were in your cabin the whole time."

It's such a silly picture, the edges of your nerves disappate again. Your lips tilt. "What a gentleman."

James' smile blooms at seeing yours. He cups your face in his hand and kisses you. It's the sweetest way of being kissed, savored like ice cream on a hot day.

You melt into the grass, pushing your palm up his chest, his shoulder. James was more undressed than you to begin with, shirtless in only his trunks, whereas you have had the top half of your bathing suit manhandled down to nearly your waist. With James' fingers now stuffed inside the bottom half, you may as well be wearing a belt.

James kisses the corner of your lips, then your jaw, making his way back down to your neck. "I missed you today."

Ordinarily, you'd make fun of him—you've been apart for only a couple of hours all day, as long as it took you to renew your lifeguard certification while James helped with training the new counselors—but right now he's earnest in a way that turns everything he touches to sweet, sticky sap. You're not immune to it. (Arguably, you're the most susceptible.)

"Me, too," you admit. Breath hitching when he draws his fingers out of you to smear wet over your clit.

James finds a place to settle in the curve of your neck, and a pace that suits you both. Your nails dig into the back of his bicep as he works you over. He sucks your skin into his mouth and takes it gently between his teeth; when his tongue soothes over the sore spot, awareness jolts your brain back to functioning.

"Do not give me a hickey."

James' mouth curves in a grin you can feel. "I think it might be too late," he says, sitting up to look you over. "You have a few."

You look down to see two already coloring marks on your chest, only one of which might be covered by your bathing suit if you pulled it up. "James," you moan into your hands, covering your face.

James laughs and kisses your knuckles lightly. "I'm sorry."

"No, you're not."

"I'm not," he agrees.

You part your fingers to glare at him, intending to make him feel the severity of your upset, but James appears too happy to be dissuaded from it. He wraps hands around your wrists to coax them down the rest of the way.

"You can give me some," he offers.

"Then they'll definitely know we're together."

"Well, Sirius is working on that either way. And if you think I'm going to let everyone think someone else did this to you—"

"James?"

You flatten yourself to the earth at the sound of a new voice, but James, with seemingly no instinct at all for secrecy, sits up curiously.

"Remus?"

"James? Oh—er, I'll stay over here, then." You shut your eyes in mortification, sparing a moment of gratitude that it's only Remus. "Just thought you ought to know that we're all out of training, and everyone's coming to the lake for a swim."

James clicks his tongue disappointedly. His manner is perfectly easygoing, though, as he extracts his fingers from inside of you, wiping them on your leg. "Thanks," he calls to Remus.

"Yeah, um….right. I can try to stall them, I suppose?"

"That'd be great, mate, thanks." You're struggling to get your arm through the strap of your bathing suit, and James lends a hand. He lowers his voice as you hear Remus leaving. "You don't have to look so embarassed. It's only Remus."

"It is embarassing!" you whine.

"Only if you make it that way." He takes your face between his hands, grinning. "You're all hot."

You want to groan and roll your eyes like a teenager. You settle for pulling up the other strap of your bathing suit. "Even Remus sounded embarassed for us."