Bella 🐞🎞️

“So is this all the important work you had to get done.” Matt asks, never one to miss and opportunity to join in the fun.

The paperwork is abandoned on his desk, it was from the minute you came in asking if you could nap on his couch until he was ready to go home. Why he didn’t just drive the 45 minutes back to DC right then, knowing he wouldn’t touch his paperwork again that night, was because he couldn’t go 45 minutes without cuddling you.

“We’re busy.” Spencer tells them, cheeks flushed red.

“You better hope Barnes doesn’t come looking for you.” Matt warns, although all of them would distract her before she could make it to Spencer’s office.

“Why don’t we all leave early today?” Spencer suggests, mostly as a way to avoid more teasing.

That isn’t met with protests. “I like Y/n being here. Anytime we need anything, she can ask Spencer.” Tara decides.

It’ll work too, he’ll cave to whatever request comes out of your mouth. You think it’s time to go back to the hotel for the night? Everyone pack up, the SUVs are leaving in five minutes. You think an extra night in Vegas would boost morale? He has his (personal) credit card out in a second to buy the first round and easily explains the extra time to the higher-ups. You want the BAU to get a pet cat as a support animal? Let’s hope the cat doesn’t mind flying.

“Alright, out.” He tells them, although they don’t look like they want to stick around on a Friday evening.

Luke hesitates in the doorway, pulling his phone out to take a picture of you two. “Sorry, man, you know I had to.” He says, not sounding sorry at all.

Spencer picks up a pillow and tosses it at him. You stir then, grip on his sides tightening as you blink your eyes open. He holds your cheek, thumb stroking under your eye.

“Mm, what’s going on?” You ask, adjusting your eyes to the light and taking in the room and your handsome husband.

“It’s time to go home, baby.” He tells you softly, keeping quiet.

You look back to his desk. “No more paperwork?”

"Red velvet?" he asks suddenly, encouraging you to lie back.

"Are you hungry?" you ask, smiling so wide your cheeks hurt.

"What? No." He sounds frustrated. "Do you like red velvet?" 

"Why are you asking?" 

"For the cake," he says, as if this is obvious. You realise Peter is having a conversation without you and elect to ignore his drunken woes, pulling his face down so you can hug him against your shoulder. 

"Maybe we should go to bed, hot stuff." 

"Are you kidding? We have so many decisions to make." 

"They can definitely wait until the morning, baby," you say warmly. 

He starts running his hands over your chest, your arm, your chest again. He doesn't touch anywhere important without asking, a gentleman even now, but the longing in his eyes makes you wish he would sober up for proper kisses. 

"They can't wait," he insists. "These are so important. We need to talk about them."  

You sigh dramatically, feeling very sorry for yourself, long suffering and tired. "Can we talk about them in bed, Peter?" 

"No, you'll distract me." 

"I'll be too busy sleeping." He pouts. You burst into laughter. "Babe! It's so late, I waited up for you so we could fall asleep together and you waylaid me with hickeys and a game of twenty questions!" You plead your case.

It's Peter's turn to sigh, though his is more of an indignant groan. "This isn't twenty questions, woman!" You raise your eyebrows, dying of laughter on the inside, and he amends, "My beloved. It's not twenty questions." 

"What is it, then?" 

He smirks at you, hands on either side of you and his knee between your thighs. You suddenly remember how tall he is and how stern he can be when he's not obliterated by cheap booze. 

He leans down to whisper in your ear. "I'm gonna marry you." 

"Get off of me," you say, rolling your eyes. 

"I'm gonna marry the fuck out of you, and then I'm gonna fuck the marry out of you, and we're gonna have centerpieces made up of a thousand white gardenias and asta- astrav- astantrias!" 

"And this has to happen tonight?" you ask, playing along, a feeling of white hot and reverential love blossoming from the centre of your chest. 

"If you don't mind!" he almost shouts. 

"I want vanilla cake," you say steadily, quietly, reaching your hands up to pinch his red cheeks.

His eyes are wide but he's calmer now he's realised you're on his side. "Good choice," he says, blinking. "What frosting? Buttercream, right? Fondant is for losers." 

“If you're so desperate for a turn, just ask Moony," James said.

"Moony?" you asked. "You mean Sirius."

"No, shortcake. I mean Moony."

"I don't know why I even told you, I should've known you'd make jokes."

James laughed, leaning his head back against his wife Lily's legs. You were in the Potter household, visiting your long time friend James now that you'd finished Hogwarts.

Lily was reading a book, looking half asleep. Little baby Harry was sleeping soundly upstairs.

Lily gave you a kind smile. "It surprised me too when I found out."

"Found out what?"

"Moony can be... how can I say this. He likes a casual hook-up."

"Really?" you asked, perking up from where you sat. You'd been friendly with the marauders in school, meeting them through your cousin Marlene. They were kind, accepting, and latched onto you like a lost duckling.

This suited you just fine, the more loving friendships you had in your life the better.

Despite this, the inner workings of the marauders were a mystery to you. You knew little of their private affairs, their bigger secrets. You were okay with that, content on being however close or far from them that they'd allow.

That being said, you felt a little put out that everyone seemed privy to this story but you.

"It's not a secret, he just enjoys the intimacy, I think," James said.

"Plus, he's very generous in bed," Lily said with a guilty smile, wiggling her eyebrows at you.

"What, you've... you've been with him?"

"Only once, before we knew how much Jamesy-Wamsey here fancied me."

"I can't begrudge her that," James said, laughing. "After all, I've also been with Moony."

"You have?"

"Not to air out his business, but so has Sirius. And your cousin. And Frank, too."

"And Alice and Mary and Gwen and Rich."

"Are you sure he'd be okay with me knowing all this?" you asked, feeling a bit uncomfortable.

"Don't worry, he's very open about it."

"I'd no idea," you said. "Admittedly, I'm a little jealous. He's fucking everyone except me."

"Not us," Lily said, holding up her and James' joint hands. "Monogamy."

"Everyone who's single, then."

"It's not about looks or anything, doll," James said reassuringly.

"He just goes with what he knows. Though he and Sirius had to stop after the Toby Carvery incident."

You didn't want to know. You were perplexed by this, not that you thought it was weird. It was perfectly natural for Remus to be having sex, he was single and attractive and a very nice guy, you just didn't know he was open to sex with friends.  Like you'd confided in James and Lily moments before, it had been a while since you'd had sex. You missed intimacy and genuinely just the pleasure and sensation of it.

"How would I even ask him about it? He probably wouldn't want to take a turn with a girl like me, anyways."

"'A girl like you'," James said scornfully. "Beautiful, intelligent and kind?"

"’Intelligent’ is a stretch," you said, deflecting.

"You're putting yourself down again. You're stunning, Y/N. Remus thinks so. And if he doesn't want to, it would never be about looks anyways," James said.

"You're right," you sighed.

"The worst thing he can do is say no," Lily said. Then, at the sound of a fussing baby, "Oh, best get that."

"I'll go," James said.

"No, that's okay. I miss my little prince anyways."

Lily made off up the stairs on her impossibly light footing, humming something cheery all the way.

"I hate to see her leave, but I love to watch her walk away," James whistled.

You wrinkled your nose. "Disgusting. Stop being in love for five seconds."

"No, I don't think I will." He grinned infectiously.

You grinned back. "I'm so happy you're so happy, James. All of you. It's about time we had some good. Especially Sirius. His postcards are ridiculous."

"Aren't they just? I must get 5 a week. He's acting as though he's not a port key away."

"It's pretty funny. My favourite one is from Milton Keynes, it says that everything is impossibly made of concrete and the muggles reflect their environment."

James chortled. "Sound similar to what he said about the Liverpuddlians."

"He's more offensive than he realises."

"He's all in good faith. Moony said he's much more insufferable in his fire calls. He won't ring me 'cause he knows I'm still mad-"

"About the frogs. I know."

"What was he thinking? 12 frogs for one baby? Harry doesn't even know what a frog is. How he expects me to look after them all is beyond."

"You're hardly looking after them," a gravelly, soft voice said. You looked over your shoulder in surprise.

"I built them a house."

"A puddle in the back garden doesn't count," Remus said. He looked windblown, red in the cheeks. "Hi, Y/N. It's been a while."

"I know. It's my own fault. I'm working on my second draft now," you said apologetically.

His eyebrows pinched together. "That's amazing! I'd love to read it sometime."

"Oh, that's kind, but I don't think you'd enjoy it. Silly girl romance."

"I doubt it's silly if you wrote it."

You beamed at him. "Thanks, Remus. So uh, have you been up to much?"

"He's been doing lots," James said. “Lots of people."

You blushed all the way to your hairline.

Remus just laughed. A fresher looking scar pulled taut with the movement of his mouth.

"Not too much."

"Oh, that must be nice though right? Just taking time to slow down and enjoy life."

"He's certainly enjoying some things."

"James, please," you said, pinching the bridge of your nose.

"He's just jealous," Remus told you, nudging you with his elbow. "He's not getting anything with Harry teething all night."

James scowled. "Whatever, Moony."

You were blushing and pretending not too. You weren't overly shy, but certainly talking about Remus' sex life so brazenly was enough to make you feel as though every breath you took was too loud.

You couldn't help but think what he'd be like in bed, ruggedly handsome with his sandy brown hair framing his face, big hands on you. You felt ashamed of yourself, thinking about him in such a way whilst being sat right next to him.

He had that charming, amused smile on his face that he usually reserved for Sirius, like he could tell exactly what you were thinking.

James yawned, flopping onto his side and splaying out on the hardwood flooring. "God, what a boring day," he said, sounding pleased.

If you listened, you could hear Lily humming softly from, upstairs. For a split second your stomach rolled with jealousy. Oh, to be young and in love and content.

"It's nice," you said softly, smiling down into your mug of tea, growing cold. "I wish everyday could be like this."

"Try changing nappies all night and see how you feel then."

Remus smiled ruefully. "You'll miss it, one day, when he's slamming doors and getting girls pregnant."

"I'm more worried about you doing that."

"We get it, prongs, I'm promiscuous."

You giggled. "He needs to hurry so Harry has a friend."

"The Longbottom's have a boy only a few months apart, so he's all set for friends. Don't feel any rush," he said, pointing at Remus.

"Unless Sirius decides to carry my child I doubt you'll be seeing a descendant from me for a long while."

"Why's that?" you asked, feeling like you'd missed a page.

He rolled his shoulders. "Oh, you know, settling down isn't on the cards for me just now."

"I get that," you said, though you absolutely didn't. "I don't imagine myself having a baby anytime soon, either," you said, doing your best to keep the wistfulness from your voice.

"I'm sure there's a line of guys after you," Remus said compassionately.

James rolled his eyes. "You know our Y/N, doesn’t know you're flirting with her unless you put it in writing."

"That was one time," you protested.

"Poor Xenophilius. He's happy now anyways, Alice says they’ve a baby on the way," Lily said, traipsing back in with a grin, her long ginger hair flowing behind her.

"I'm not sure we would've been the best fit at the time," you agreed. "He was very handsome, though."

"And rich!" James cheered. Lily poked him hard in the back.

"Money doesn't matter to most people," Lily said. "If anything, your money makes you less attractive."

James keened. "You cruel woman."

"It is true, James. Money only matters if you don't like the person to begin with."

"I resent what you're implying."

You covered your mouth and drove your head into Remus' shoulder without thinking, laughing hysterically at your own joke.

Remus laughed, full chest, resting a hesitant hand on your shoulder to steady you both.

"I like you very much," Lily comforted her husband, though she was resting her feet on his back.

"I can tell," he said, face pressed to the floor.

-

The next time you saw Remus was at the Potter Christmas party, hosted by James' parents in the extravagant Potter Manor.

You were nervous, twisting your hands in the fabric of your champagne silk slip dress. It was a busy affair, for charity, with more attendees that you could ever name and most of them older, richer, and from a purer family than your own. Although your blood status had never mattered to the Potter's, who accepted everyone with open arms.

The weather was bitterly cold. You wrapped your shawl around you tightly against the freezing gales, looking up at the charcoal black night peppered in stars like crushed diamonds, stretched out across the expanse of sky. You couldn't make out one end from the other.

Your cousin Marlene had accompanied you, however your nerves were getting the better of you and so she’d left you for a moment to yourself. The sound from inside was raucous, clinking and laughter and the chorus of a live band. You'd sent her in, where she was desperate to seek out Sirius. Whether she was seeking a love affair or a tumble was anyone's guess.

You were shaking, your heels maybe a bad choice for someone who didn't wear them that often. Your breasts were tight with the cold and you moved an arm to cover them.

"This is silly," you mouthed to yourself. "They're just people."

You exhaled out of your nose and turned suddenly to enter, coming face to chest with somebody solid and lean.

"Woah, McKinnon. Slow your roll."

"Oh, Sirius. I'm sorry," you said, backing away.

"Just saw dearest Marlene," he smirked at you. "She said you were too afraid to come in."

"I'm not afraid," you scoffed weakly. "I was just warming up."

"That's the opposite of what you were doing," he said pointedly. "Your skin’s like ice."

"Ah," you said, hyper aware of your dress and your hair and your face.

"You look great!" he said encouragingly. "Let's not deprive the rich and prosperous of you any longer, hmm?"

"Right."

You let yourself be steered inside, his arm over your shoulder.

"So - how was the world?"

He laughed, "well, I didn't see much of it. Missed home too much," he said. You didn't think he was talking about the Noble House of Black.

You smiled, spotting a photo of him and James displayed proudly in the foyer, which was teeming with people in various states of dress, half with their coats on waiting to be attended to.

"It's very busy."

Sirius nodded at your comment. "You should see the parlor, one can barely move. Like sardines. All the young ones are in the den, this way," he said. You abandoned your shawl at a coat rack that could barely keep itself up.

"You look particularly ravishing tonight," he said. His voice was much easier to hear now, the commotion of the party falling away as you walked.

"Oh," you looked down at yourself, feeling silly and overdressed and like you didn't fit right. "Thanks, Sirius. You look nice too."

"'Nice,' she says." He held a hand over his chest like you'd punched him.

"Handsome," you corrected yourself. "You always do."

He grinned. "That's better."

He came to a stop. Light was creeping out under the door into the hallway, painting your pointe-toe kitten heels a warm shade of Amber.

Sirius opened the door, nudging you inside.

It was like a time machine, though everyone was much better dressed. It may as well have been a seventh year party with all your favourite people, though the amount of alcohol was lower and the amount of kids surprisingly higher. Wow, people have been getting busy, you thought. There were more people than you could count but thankfully you knew or knew of almost everyone there.

"Y/N!" Marlene cheered, half straddling the arm of the sofa where Remus and Peter sat.

"Hi," you said, greeting the few who'd turned to look at you.

Lily nodded at you, dressed in an ankle-length evening gown with a beaded bodice and spaghetti straps, a saturated blue that complimented her cool, red hair. James was busy trying to persuade a half-crawling Harry from eating his own socked feet, his shirt untucked, suit jacket discarded.

Following Sirius' lead, Peter had forgone a traditional jacket for a leather jacket. You grinned at him.

You weren't sure where Remus' outerwear was, distracted by the sight of his lean forearms clearly displayed by his rolled up sleeves. He was watching you assess the room.

You gravitated to him without thinking, taking the seat opposite whilst Marlene was motivated by Sirius' return to find somewhere else to be.

"Hi, boys," you said, still nervous.

"Hi, Y/N," Peter said. He was staring over your shoulder at a gaggle of girls who'd been in Ravenclaw when you were at school. One was smiling shyly at him.

"Evening," Remus said.

"Be right back," Peter mumbled. Remus rolled his eyes and you both watched him steel his nerves and approach the woman he'd been eyeing.

"You look great!" you said, perhaps too loudly.

He smiled at you. "So do you. I haven't seen you so dressed up since the wedding."

James and Lily's, he meant. You looked back fondly at the memory. He'd been exhausted, a shocking red cut trailing from his ear down into his neckline. He'd been ecstatic anyways.

"That seems so long ago now."

"It does! Even longer since school. Time's moving so fast."

"It's kind of nice. There was a time where I couldn't imagine anything but school," you said, shocking yourself with unexpected honesty.

"I know what you mean.”

"You do?"

"Sure. I didn't think I'd live past my first year."

You frowned. He'd always been so ill, so sick. Often relapsing and spending days away from everyone.

"I'm sorry," you said, sympathetic.

"Oh, don't be. I had everyone and everything I needed. I couldn't ask for more."

You smiled at him, happy for his happiness.

He laughed, "Godric, that got serious quickly. What are you drinking?"

"Oh, I'm not. Lest we forget what drunk me achieved at every other house party."

"I like drunk you - she's very honest."

You covered your eyes with the back of your forearm, groaning. "Don't remind me."

"Hey, we might not be friends if you didn't tell Sirius how you felt."

"You make it sound like I was in love with him."

"Having dreams where he's your big brother isn't much better."

You cringed. "One dream! He has a very brotherly vibe about him..." you defended yourself.

You dropped your arm, meeting his crinkled eyes. "He doted on me heavily after that."

"Didn't he just! When Perkins stood you up at the three Broomsticks in sixth year-"

"He had detention for 5 weeks," you sighed.

"I'd never seen Minnie so angry."

"It's nice to remember these things," you said.

It probably wasn't any secret that since Hogwarts had ended you'd been incredibly lonely. Your friends had their own lives now, you had yours. It was just... emptier. Going from seeing these people every day to only at weddings and parties was a change that left a yawning gap in your chest.

"Do you miss school?" you asked him.

"I do. Not the exams. But I miss Gryffindor common room and the courtyards and sneaking out. It's not as fun going for a midnight snack in your own home."

"Mm," you probed the roof of our mouth with your tongue. "Everything's changed."

"Not us. Not you. You're just as lovely."

"And you're still ridiculously nice," you deflected, blushing.

"I'm not being nice. I'm being honest."

"They do say I'm the prettiest Mckinnon," you joked.

"Yes, you are."

He said it in such a steady voice you felt your stomach twinge. He's seducing me. I'm being seduced.

"Y/N!" James cheered, a half sleeping Harry in his hands. He had dribble all down his front. "Hold darling Harry for me, would you?"

You held out your arms with little protest.

He was heavier than you expected him to be, cooing at his little pleasant face in delight. James didn't waste any time, spinning on his heel to find a new shirt, you thought. You held Harry close to your chest in awe. He was so big and so small. He babbled, a little disgruntled from being passed to you. You swayed him so slowly it hardly registered. It surprised you that he could be so calm in such a loud room.

He was watching you in baby puzzlement, as if to say, I know you, but I don't. You've held me before, but not many times.

His small hand reached for your hair. You let him, despite his surprising strength, it didn't hurt.

"So mean," you murmured. "I bet you don't pull your mummy's hair."

His pulling made it so that the clips in your hair came free, sliding out of place. The hair that usually framed your face came down from its restraints and fell in your eyes.

"Here," Remus said.

He was on his feet, rounding the sofa to collect your hair in gentle hands. He pulled an elastic from his pocket and tied it up in a loose ponytail with such careful, delicate movements. You shivered at the feeling of his hands in your hair, his index finger gracing the soft skin of your neck.

"Thank you," you said, half turning your face to offer him a grateful smile. He tucked the last loose strands behind your ear.

"Good as new."

Harry gurgled. You pushed the dark hair from his face tenderly.

"So strange to think he came from James and Lily," you whispered.

"What's that supposed to mean?" a voice said in your ear. Remus was leaning his forearms on the back of the sofa, close to your side. Though he was talking to you he was staring at Harry.

"Nothing like that... just. They love each other and now there's a person I have to use both arms to hold that shows that."

Remus didn't reply. You rocked Harry, whispering gibberish back at him everytime he babbled. He nodded off in no time at all.

"Come on, I'll get you a drink. Anything in particular?"

"Water is fine," you told Remus, careful not to move too much.

He disappeared into the crowd in no time. From where you sat, you could see Frank Longbottom rocking with an unhappy baby, his wife Alice watching with something close to adoration in her eyes. Melinda Donavan was dancing shamelessly with her girlfriend Emmaline Vance next to the windows, though shy Emma seemed much less willing.

Lily and Peter were sequestered to the side, Peter looking positively downtrodden. His advance couldn't have gone well.

Sirius was suspiciously absent, as was James. Perhaps he hadn't intended to change his shirt at all.

Your friends from school, Poppy and Guenivere, were half way across the world, and hadn't been able to make it home for Christmas this year. You missed them, feeling a little envious that they'd shot off without you.

You felt forlorn, suddenly. When tonight was over, you might not see everyone again for a long while. James or Sirius didn't mind if you popped around for tea at your leisure, and Poppy was very attentive at sending you weekly letters.

But it wasn't the same as belonging to somebody. Feeling needed.

"Oh, Harry," you whispered. "You're so lucky. And so cute."

A little while later you found yourself sipping on your glass of water, Sirius and Moony beside you, bantering. Baby Harry slept on the sofa next to you in a makeshift bed of pillows that made you nervous. Lily assured you he was safe enough, never wriggled and was happy to have him back from you whenever you wanted.

To tell the truth, you weren't sure you ever wanted to give him back. Especially as someone who'd never had to change him or wake up to his cries in the middle of the night.

Lily was dancing with James in the middle of the room surrounded by your peers. It was easy to spot them, her stunning long legs and gorgeous red hair, his long, lean frame and handsome, cutting face.

They were like supermodels.

You felt a little silly in your slip, prodding the curve of your tummy with a pointed, painted fingernail. Your hair was falling out of the bobble Remus had tied around it. You took the tie out to run your hands through it, pulling the hair away from your face and scraping it into a tighter ponytail.

Sirius was recounting a funny story from his British road trip, laughing before he'd finished his own jokes. His and Remus' knees were pressed together familiarly.

He was trying his best to include you in the conversation despite your distracted demeanour tonight.

"Well, that's if you can believe it."

"I can," Remus said dryly.

Sirius howled like it was the funniest thing anyone had ever said. You fought a smile.

“Oh hey, it’s that dame from Beauxbatons… What was her name?” Sirius asked, nodding subtly to the left.

“Two things, you can’t call women dames. This isn’t the forties,” James said, appearing from nowhere. It was so sudden it forced a laugh out of you. Remus grinned at you.

“And her name is Thalia. Be nice to her, she’s Lily’s pen pal,” James finished.

“I’m going to be very nice to her.”

“Boo!” you protested. “You corn dog.”

He only smirked and flounced off to bother her. She was insanely pretty, feminine and slender with perfectly curled hair and clear, tanned skin.

“She’s pretty,” you said.

“She is,” Remus agreed.

“Not as scrumptious as you, shortcake,” James said, ruffling your hair. “You look different tonight. Haircut?”

“Nothing I can think of.”

“Do you want a haircut? I’ve been practicing a new spell.”

“Absolutely not.”

James pouted. “No one ever lets me practice. How will I get good at these niche spells?”

“You could practice on yourself?” Remus suggested.

James gasped. “And risk my perfect swoop? Go to hell, Moony.”

“Where’s your keeper?” Remus asked, mock condescending.

“She’s gone to ask mum something. Not,” he said pointedly, turning from you both and shouting over his shoulder, “that that concerns you, dickhead.”

“You’re in his bad books.”

“Till he gets bored. Ten minutes tops.”

“What will you do with those precious ten minutes?”

“I haven’t decided yet. Could travel, see the world. Might sit down and write a book.”

“I wouldn’t recommend that,” you said, tone full of ire. You tilted your head, neck bared, to stare at the ceiling.

“It’s not going well?”

“It’s okay. My uh, my agent likes the second draft. We’re looking at publishing houses now but it’s - a long process-” you struggled to find the right words, “-people aren’t interested in contemporary right now. Muggle’s love magic and science fiction, surprisingly.”

“I guess it makes sense. Magic isn’t as interesting to those of us that use it everyday.”

You nodded. “But get this - they love werewolves and vampires. There’s a whole sub-genre of like, werewolf boyfriend fiction.”

Remus stiffened next to you. You turned inquisitively.

“That’s bizarre. Don’t they think werewolves are dangerous?”

“I guess they do,” you conceded. “But it’s just like real werewolves, right? Just because they’re dangerous doesn’t mean they’re evil.”

He smiled at you in a way you couldn’t describe. Almost gratefully. You smiled back.

“I think I’d quite like a werewolf boyfriend. Settle down, have his puppies, watch him fight all the other werewolves off.”

“Werewolves don’t usually fight other werewolves.”

“No?” you asked.

“No,” he said, as though he were an expert. He probably was. Remus always knew something if you didn’t, or at least he had in school.

“That’s too bad. How will I know he truly loves me if he’s not willing to fight to the death for me?”

“I never pegged you as someone with delusions of grandeur.”

“Delusions! You’re so mean, Remus.”

“You can call me Moony, if you’d like.”

“Moony,” you tested the word out. “I never understood that nickname. I’ll keep calling you Remus, if you don’t mind. It’s a nice name.”

“It’s an obscure inside joke, I’m afraid. And it would take a while to explain.”

“That’s okay,” you said pleasantly, righting yourself. You turned to peer at little sleeping Harry. He was flat on his back, dozing without a care in the world.

“Aw, Remus. Everytime I look at him I get a little bit jealous,” you said, voice barely above a whisper. “Maybe I’m just close to my period.”

“He is charming.”

“He’s everything.” You leaned dramatically into his chest behind you. “Cute little baby. Hey, you wanna have kids with me?” you asked him, mostly joking. “I’m not sure what my children would look like, but yours would be ridiculously cute.”

When he spoke, you could feel his chest vibrate. “It might take a few goes. A practice run’s required, don’t you think?”

You took a few seconds to process what he was saying.

“You’re definitely trying to seduce me,” you said quietly.

“Is it working?”

“We need a babysitter,” you said, in lieu of a yes.

“Yeah, I’ll take him,” Peter said. You and Remus did a double-take, finding him sat at the table behind you drinking a lemonade with a morose expression. “Go fuck, or whatever.”

“Are you sure, Pete?” Remus asked. You were too embarrassed at being overheard to form words.

“Oh please, as if I’ve anything else to do tonight.”

A long and heart pounding traipse to an empty guest room later, you found yourself in the lap of one Remus Lupin. It had started respectably enough at first, which is to say, with a kiss that made you feel like you were weightless.

“Who taught you how to kiss like that?” you asked, breathing hard. He kissed a stripe up your neck whilst you caught your breath.

“The answer may horrify you.”

“Sirius?”

“How’d you know?”

“James told me all about it.”

“Oh he did, did he?” His hand was creeping down from your neck, ghosting over the straps of your dress and down, pausing inches above the rising valley of your chest.

“Can you touch me instead of teasing?” you pleaded.

“I can do both,” he laughed.

Finally his hand slipped down, under the cowl neck of your dress, to press against your heaving chest.

How he could kiss at your neck with deadly precision, finding every sweet spot you never knew you had, whilst simultaneously performing the most masterful ministrations under your dress was anyone’s guess. What factory had they made him in?

You said as much, giggling.

He pressed a hot kiss to your mouth in response.

“I liked how we were sat before, didn’t you? Here,” he said, leaning against the headboard. “Turn around.”

You did, curiously, pressing your back to his chest. He gripped the outer sides of your thighs, lifting you flush against him in an attractive display of strength.

“I knew as soon as I saw this dress I wanted to take it off you. But I can wait. After all, you look so good in it.”

It wasn’t what he was saying, it was how. It was the fact that Remus, intelligent, pensive Remus was saying it.

You struggled to speak. He kissed you chastely on your temple.

“Are you sure you want this?” he asked.

“I’m sure. Are you?”

“Mm. We can stop whenever you want.”

“Okay, handsome,” you said, apprehension colouring your voice.

Wordlessly, he traced a line up your bare thigh, the fabric of your dress pushed up from the move, till his hand rested at the bottom of your stomach. His other hooked under your knee, pulling your one leg up, up, exposing your centre. If anyone were to enter the room, they would find you in a compromising position.

You pushed your heel into the mattress to keep your leg elevated, even though Remus continued to hold it up.

He pushed his hand down, index and middle finger coming to find your clit through the fabric of your underwear with an expert ease. You gasped in happiness.

“There you are,” he said, hushed. He set a steady, circular motion, laughing every time you struggled to breathe properly. The slither of fabric separating his touch from your skin was dampening alarmingly quickly.

“That’s cute,” he said, mouth pressed to your neck.

“Is it?” you asked, breathless.

He pulled his two fingers apart, sliding the bud of your clit between his fingertips. You moaned without thinking, your legs closing on instinct.

He pulled your legs open again, none too gently, tutting.

“Teasing,” you protested.

“You like it. I can tell,” he said, pushing your underwear to one side.

He rubbed a circle around your entrance, spreading slick. “Physical evidence,” he said. He pushed in the tip of his finger slowly. The initial stretch was always the strangest feeling, though you were wet enough to enjoy it thoroughly.

He stopped, pulled out. You whined.

“Shhh,” he placated. His middle finger went back in, first knuckle, then second. You gasped. Your knees wobbled.

Out. He released your knee and it leaned back in automatically. The hand that wasn’t fucking you went under the hemline of your dress and up, silk shift gathering around his wrist. He massaged the supple skin of your breast.

One finger became two. He knew exactly what he was doing, curling inside you and touching a sweet spot relentlessly. He was steady, maintaining a pace that wasn’t fast or slow.

You were gasping, hitching, mewling sounds that had him hard against your back. You grinned at that.

He pulled out completely, rubbing a slick circle into your clit.

“Lift your hips?”

You did. He pulled your underwear free and tossed it gently to the side. You were sliding down slowly, back starting to be more against the bed than his front, the feeling of his erection poking into your shoulder blades. You shifted your arms just to listen to his breathing change.

You were a mess, leaking wet on the sheets, moisture collecting in your lashes from the stimulation.

He was performing a tantalizing move wherein he fingerfucked you deeply and rubbed your clit at the same time, almost bringing about your end prematurely.

“Oh my god,” you said, shutting your legs in a fruitless attempt at warning him.

“Feel good?”

You gasped, closing your eyes against the overwhelming sensation. You came hard, walls constricting around him. He chuckled, the sound music to your ears, only laughing more when his continued ministrations had you gripping his leg with a white-knuckled grip.

It was a blistering orgasm, as they went.

You turned in his lap, pulling his face down to kiss him, easy as though you’d done it a hundred times before. “Oh, you liked that, huh?” he asked against your lips.

“So unkind,” you said. You reached down between you both to palm his dick where it strained in his slacks. It was his turn to moan.

He smiled at you, pulling your hand from his erection to hold it tightly in his . “Don’t try to finish me before I’m inside you, please.”

He pulled you flat on your back, crawling to kneel between your legs.

“Your cunt is so pretty,” he said, reaching forward to finger you again, wrist turned to the ceiling.

“You talk to all your girls like that?” you said, strangled.

“Only ones with cunts like yours,” he said. He unzipped his trousers, pushing them down with his boxers just enough to free himself. His dick was long, curved, and surprisingly wide. Your pupils were blown.

He adjusted your dress so that your breasts were out, leaning forward to kiss your chest affectionately. The tops of his thighs pressed to the back of yours, splaying you open. You could feel your entrance gaped, a line of wet dripping down. Remus used his hand to rub his dick up the line, wetting his head. He rubbed your entrance and clit, thrusting against you without entering.

You whimpered. He watched your face, using his free hand to cradle your cheek.

You grinned. He lined up, fucking into you with controlled, shallow thrusts. You stretched around him slowly. Only when he bottomed out did he increase his force, thrusting so deeply your body rocked into the mattress and sprung back up.

“How does that feel, sweetheart?”

“Good,” you whimpered, gripping the backs of his thighs. You couldn’t quite reach.

“Good? Like this?” he asked, breaking his rhythm to drop into you. Your whole body rocked.

“Oh,” you moaned, scrunching your eyes shut. “Again?”

He did this many, many times. The sounds you were making only spurred him on, as though every gasp were an encouragement. You grasped his face with trembling fingers, the way he kissed you enough to make you moan into his mouth.

He paused his thrusts and you protested, wriggling your back, trying to fuck yourself on him. He found this endlessly amusing.

“Please… please.”

It was enough. He took his hand between you both to rub your clit, though his motions were imprecise and sloppy, your slick making it hard to find purchase. His thrusts slowly fell out of rhythm, his only aim to penetrate you as deeply as possible.

You could barely think, stretches of silence filled with your heavy breathing. You struggled to hold your legs up, instead finding them pushed up with every time Remus moved forward. If he minded, he didn’t say anything.

He found your g-spot quickly, perceptive of your disrupted moans each time he hit it. It was a sweet torture, enduring him.

You wanted him to cum before your second, clenching down around him everytime he pulled out. You were unraveling quickly. You moved your hips in loose circles, trying to relieve him of all the work.

“Cum in me?”

“You want me to?”

“Please, Remus.”

He threaded his fingers through yours, arms pressed tightly together between your bodies. He leaned heavily into you and you could feel the whole weight of him behind his last thrust. He came inside you, thrusting wildly. He kept going long enough to dedicate himself to your clit, thumb moving up and down till your head spun. You seized up, your arm tight around his neck, pushing his face into your chest. He chuckled, nipping at the sensitive skin if your nipple.

Only after it stopped did you realise how illicit the sound of him fucking you had been. You blushed, grateful your face was buried in his hair. You blinked away tears from the intensity of your second orgasm. Your stomach felt like it was alight.

He pulled out, leaning back on his haunches, rubbing out what was left of his cum. It dripped obscenely down his fist. You felt the mixture of your cum leaking out and running down your aching legs which you set on the bed, sickly pleased when they shook.

“You’re a dream,” he said. “A fucking dream.”

You turned your face to the side and covered your mouth, your pleased smile.

-

“When I said to fuck Moony, I didn’t mean in my house,” James said the next day, where you’d gathered for tea and buns in godric’s hollow.

“You didn’t specify,” you said lightly, peering at him over the rim of your cup of coffee.

“I did not ever think I needed to.”

Remus’ hand was comforting on your shoulder. “You definitely should’ve.”

James frowned. “God, I can’t even look at you both. Stop smiling. This is an infringement of my human rights. We were literally downstairs while you were canoodling.”

“Fucking.”

“Bah! I regret encouraging this.”

“Be fair, James. We would’ve eventually,”

“We would’ve?” you asked.

“In that dress? Definitely.”

James gagged. “Get a grip, Moony, before you break the hearts of all your casual lovers.”

Remus shrugged. “It can’t be helped.”

You hid your pleased expression with a well timed sip.

“What’s your objective? Marriage?”

“Puppies,” Remus remarked.

James shot tea through his nose in shock, though you didn’t know what was so funny.