summary: (1.9k) you come to the hospital with a small cut under your breast, worried it’s something serious. dr. remus reassures you that it’s nothing to worry about—and yet, uses a big ‘medical tool’ to help you heal anyway ;)
a/n: another longer fic! i liked writing this one tbh, and i apologise for the longish foreplay! i find it so hard to jump straight into smut </3
! content warnings: small mention of injury (faint cut), breast play, medical play, nipple sucking (f!receiving), innocence kink, dumbification, tit fucking, softdom!remus, innocent!reader, mocking praise, cumming (all consensual!)
you hated everything about the hospital—except your doctor. remus lupin.
he wasn’t like the others. he was devastatingly handsome in a way that made your stomach flutter. always calm, composed, his voice that dipped low like velvet. he always knew how to take care of you—how to speak to you, look at you, touch you in a way that made all your thoughts dissolve so you were nothing, but a pliant little thing for him.
this time, you had attended because of a certain mark just under your breast. it was enough to panic you into calling for an urgent appointment.
as your name was called, you stepped into his office with that same mix of dread and warmth curling in your chest—and there he was. remus looked up from his notes with a crooked smile, a faint scar scrunching along his nose like it always did whenever he moved his lips. sandy curls fell into his eyes, his stethoscope hung loosely around his neck.
“morning, love,” his murmured, eyes dragging along your form, before he set his clipboard down.
his hands were big with faint pinkish hues on his knuckles, soft lines that ran down the back of them—all used to feel you up in a way that left shivers down your spine. “how’re we feeling today?”
remus thought of you as one of his favourite patients—maybe because of how soft you were, how obediently you listened—how you were innocent enough for him to use you, to heal you with whimpering sounds.
“hi, doctor lupin. m’good.” you gave a sheepish wave and a grin, voice so airy and bright that it made remus’ pants tighten already.
that smile of his deepened before he tugged at his slacks. “someone’s chirpy.” he murmured under his breath, already reaching for the latch on the door. “what did we say about calling me that, sweetheart? you know there’s no need for formalities when it’s just us.”
you didn’t even flinch at the soft click of the lock. this was your fourth visit, with close proximity becoming a theme. last time you’d complained of some tension in your jaw. he’d helped—of course, told you to kneel between his legs and take every inch of his thickness until the ache disappeared entirely. you’d often leave in need of an underwear change, that tingling feeling in your legs intensified.
his methods were surely…unconventional, but they always worked, and no other doctor ever bothered to interrupt one of his sessions—leaving you all to himself.
“sorry, remus.” you murmured, hands clasped together with a slight twinge of pink to your cheeks.
remus gave a soft smile, nodding to the examination table. “no need. hop up for me, lovely.”
you obeyed without hesitation, feet lifting off the ground as you settled, folding your fingers neatly in your lap.
he came up, stood between your knees, voice low and raspy. “what’s brought you in today then, hm? jaw doing alright?”
you nodded quickly, a shy little swallow. “mhm. it’s just…something else now. i found a little cut, just right here.” you pointed to the curve of your breast, visible through the tight fabric of your blouse.
“i don’t know how it happened and it hurts a little, so I got scared,” you admitted with a pout that formed instantly. “what if it’s something bad? like i need surgery?”
remus’ expression softened with a half chuckle, watching you with a mixture of a mocking but caring look. he knew it was most likely a papercut and nothing more. you always rang up hospitals for every minor inconvenience, which remus encouraged, so he could see you more. he always bought into your little worries, like some concerned doctor that didn’t have his cock leaking at your innocence.
he reached for his stethoscope, tucking the earpieces in. “i’ll take a look, yeah? let me handle it, darling.”
the calm way he said it made you melt—always so sure. always in control. you liked listening to him, doing whatever he pleased to make you feel better.
his fingers went straight to your blouse, unbuttoning them with practised ease. the first time, he’d worn gloves, asked permission. by now, he didn’t need to. you never said no to him, and you preferred the warmth of his hands over cold latex.
as the fabric parted, remus paused. the pink lace of your bra was peeking through, one that pushed your tits together perfectly—one that made his throat work in a quiet swallow.
“dressed up for me today, doll?” his tone curled around the petname, dipping just enough to make your thighs clench.
you shook your head with wide eyes, the lace colour matching the blossoming of your cheeks. “didn’t mean to. my other ones were in the wash—this was the only clean one.”
“so you picked the sluttiest one?” he shot back darkly, lips twitching, eyes staring at your covered tits. his fingers grazed the plush skin there, dragging down one of the cups to bare your breast.
“i didn’t mean—”
“hm, but you did.” his tone dropped to a quiet, gruff note. he pressed the stethoscope to your chest, the cold metal making you jump in a shiver. your heart thudded against it, and remus gave a sly smirk—his way of knowing that you enjoyed every bit of this.
“such a bad girl.”
“m’not! i wanna be a good one.” you gave a pout and he clicked his tongue at you, humming in amusement with a smirk.
“well you can’t be when you dress like that.” his thumb brushed across your nipple until it hardened beneath your touch. then his hand slid lower, cupping beneath your breast, giving it a soft squeeze. “now, show me where the cut is, love.”
you guided his fingers just beneath, and he crouched slightly, examining the skin of a faint cut, the size of an ant.
remus’ eyes narrowed, before a soft laugh escaped him. “just what i thought. that’s a light scratch, baby.” he tapped your skin gently, eyes flickering up to you. “must’ve just nicked yourself from your fingers while you were asleep. is that where it hurts?”
you nodded with face crumpling in embarrassment, a frown tugging at your lips. “so it’s not serious?”
“well no, but still needs treating, doesn’t it?” he said softly, hand gently coming up to caress your cheek. “you trust me, sweet thing?”
“yeah.” you murmured, shy again.
“good girl.” he praised, and then pressed a soothing steady kiss to your breast, right over the faint line.
a soft sound escaped from your lips as you felt that tingly feeling between your legs again. remus exhaled roughly through his nose, tongue tracing the sensitive skin around, before wrapping his lips around your nipple.
your back arched in a whimper, fingers tangled in his hair as he groaned. he suckled, his cock twitching at your pretty sounds, begging to be freed.
“think it’s working,” you mumbled in a dizzy manner, feeling the warm suction, the gentle scraping of his teeth.
he pulled away slightly just to whisper. “oh, i’m sure it is,” before giving a little smile and sucking your bud again. his cheeks hollowed out, hand gliding to give attention to your other breast by squeezing it roughly.
a gasp emitted from you, and remus rumbled in a vibrating groan against your skin. “so good…” he mumbled, before his teeth grazed your nipple again and bit softly. you jolted, eyes widening, yanking on his hair.
“i—i think i need more healing.” you whimpered, voice cracking slightly. you felt like this wasn’t enough, craving for that tingly feeling to continue, to drench your underwear.
remus finally pulled off your bud with a soft pop, hands gliding down your sides with shiny flushed lips. “do you, now?” he teased, before straightening up.
you noticed a darkening wet patch at the crotch of his trousers, just under his white coat. he caught you staring, a slow small grin spreading across his face. “might need a stronger tool for this. you want that?” he asked, voice strained with need.
you nodded before you could stop yourself, watching remus unbuckle his belt with a quiet, controlled motion—he always made you wait, to get you writhing for it.
the metal clinked softly, and he shoved his slacks down enough to free himself. he bit his lip to stifle a deep groan as his hand wrapped around the base. his thick cock was flushed pink and leaking, a prominent vein that lined the underside of his shaft.
“big, huh?” he teased again, giving himself a few slow strokes that tore a dirty rumbling sound from him. “think this’ll do the job, baby?”
all you could do was stare with your lips parted, thighs squeezing together at the slight curve of his thick cock. “s’big…” you mumbled in awe.
“yeah?” he gave a sheepish sort of grin, before he stepped close, lifting your hands gently to press them to your chest. he gave a soft peck to the valley of your breasts like he couldn’t help it. “want you to hold them together. like this for me. yeah? promise it’ll make you feel better.”
you nodded eagerly, doing exactly as he said.
“good girl.” he cooed, lining his cock up with your sternum. “keep them squeezed together—”
he shuddered as he guided your breasts around his cock, groaning as the softness squeezed him just right. you watched his face—his brows pulled, mouth slack in such a pleasurable way that made you even more aching to please him. “that’s it, angel.”
your innocent eyes merely blinked up at him, pressing your tits together in a firm hold for him.
“fuck…” remus hissed as his hips started to rock, thrusting between the soft fatty tissues. “so obedient. so sweet.” he cupped your jaw, thumb tugging at your bottom lip. “such a good listener you are, huh?”
his fat cock kept sliding between your tits, aching for more friction. he held your chin, biting his lip to hold back the animalistic sounds that would’ve echoed in his office. “can you spit on it, baby? just to help. for the healing.”
he said it so gently that you had no choice but to obey. remus let go of your chin and you leaned down, spitting a big drop that strung from your lips and onto the slit on his cock. remus growled low in his throat, the soft squelching noises that appeared as he lathered your spit down his shaft, with the help of your tits.
he panted, hips bucking sloppily into your chest, the obscene slapping noises amplifying. “that’s it…look so good like this. don’t even know how filthy you are. do you?” he rasped, muttering more to himself than you. “just think your sweet little injury’s being treated.”
“isn’t it?” you asked with a dazed look, all confused.
remus let out a broken laugh, head tipping back just slightly. “oh, sweet girl. just keep being pretty for me.”
he grunted suddenly, cock twitching between your tits before he spilled all over your skin, coating the top in hot white seed. it trickled down and seeped into your cleavage, an ungodly sight for remus—all while you blinked up at him, unsure what to do as he pulled a tissue from the drawer, wiping you up gently.
then, he leaned in, and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “there. all healed.”
“thank you, sir.” you whispered, remembering that name of authority from the last appointment, too shy to say it until now.
remus froze, his half-hard cock already twitching again, before you got up—like you hadn’t just ruined him all over again. he gave a light smack to your ass, a small gasp falling from your lips before it disappeared into a giggle.
he cleared his throat, stifling his dark chuckle. “i think you’ll need another follow-up. same time next week.”
and then, he tucked himself back into his slacks and opened the door for you, a lingering soft smile that screamed nothing but innocent. “see you then, darling.”
summary: (1.3k) you get a little too bratty for your own good, and remus reminds you who’s in charge—shutting that mouth up with a cock(y) lesson ;)
a/n: another longer kinktober fic because i couldn’t help myself <3 cowboy remus is just so hot
! content warnings: slight depiction of injury, oral sex (m!receiving), mild choking, a lot of gagging, possessive!remus, bratty reader, praise/mocking language, western au, power imbalance (all consensual!)
you were kneeled in the soft hay that scattered across the floors of the barn—your deep burgundy dress fluttering around you, slightly torn at the hem. remus laid back on an old hay bale, his beige western hat tipping forward and shielding half his rugged features from the bleeding sun.
the side of his ribs had a nasty gash that you had soaked up tremendously with gauze, giving him a narrowed look that spoke of both concern and predictable disappointment.
“you’re gonna get yourself killed if this keeps up.” you scolded, eyes following yet another forming scar added to his littered chest.
the cowboy let out a soft gruff laugh, the faint glint of a white line across his lip that curved when he grinned—ruggish and beautiful.
“he spoke of you like meat, darlin’. what’s a man supposed to do?”
you couldn’t help but quirk up a small smile, shaking your head with a disbelieved sigh. you liked how possessive remus got of you, especially when it protected you from leering men.
but the other reason? because it reminded you, that you were his—and it brought out such a filthy, sexy version of himself that made your thighs clench with how badly you craved him.
“i mean—they deserved it, but i still don’t like seeing you get hurt.” you murmured back, wrapping a bandage around his torso, pressing a soft kiss to the cover like you always did.
you looked up at him through your lashes that gently fluttered. “they’re dangerous with their knives.”
“hm, not as dangerous as the way you’re lookin’ at me, sugar.” he drawled with that slightly southern tone, a calloused finger under your chin to tilt it up more, just so you could see the side smirk plastered on his face.
you shifted on your knees, thighs pressing together at the deep drone of his voice.
“i’m just looking at you.” you tried to say sassily, but it came out in a meek needier tone instead—something only he could ever pull from you.
“just lookin’ at me.” his tone was mocking, a layer of teasing, tilting his head, like he already knew how much you secretly yearned for his possessiveness.
“you sure about that? nothin’ in that pretty lil’ head of yours?”
you bit your lip, something to stifle a whimper that formed a lump in your throat.
remus licked his lips and leaned in, breath ghosting over your mouth. “hm. almost forgot how much you like bein’ put in your place. that’s what this is. isn’t it, sweetheart?”
your cheeks were squished between his rough fingers, lips pouty and defiant. “that’s not—hmm—not true,” you mumbled, words coming out unintelligible.
he finally let go of your jaw with another breathy exhale through his nose—almost a laugh. “sure it ain’t.”
he leaned back against the barn wall, still perched on a hay bale, pressing a fist to this thigh as he shifted—his jeans were now strained, cock pressing bold and hard against the worn denim. he adjusted his belt with a grunt, lips twitching at the way your gaze dropped.
“let’s put that bratty mouth to good use then, huh? you’ve been drivin’ me half-mad all day in that little damn dress—flauntin’ around like you don’t know what you’re doin’. now come ‘ere.”
his voice was so raspy, that it vibrated throughout your body, the slow drawl making the heat between your legs throb. you still didn’t move—arms crossed with a raised chin.
“you’re lucky i’m so generous.” you muttered like it was some grand favour, a slight curve of your lips as your fingers tugged on the gold buckle of his belt. “hips up, cowboy.”
remus chuckled low, amused—even more aroused. “bossy little thing,” he murmured but obeying anyway with a lift of his hips. “gettin’ mouthy again.”
you pulled down his jeans and his hard cock sprang free, slapping against his abdomen, throbbing at the reddish tip. a bead of precum glistened at the slit, gently trailing down his thick shaft as it twitched.
your core pulsed at the sight, biting your lip. you knew he was big, definitely bigger than your face—just inches and inches of length, thick and girthy that it made you drool.
“well?” remus rasped desperately, voice wavering. “ain’t got all day.”
you swallowed, the sass dying out. “i don’t know if i can take all of you—”
“don’t you go shy on me now,” he interrupted, gaze snapping back to yours with dark eyes. “you’ve taken every damn inch before, pumpkin. don’t start actin’ delicate.”
as innocent as that nickname sounded, you felt the slick pooling in your underwear anyway, before remus reached down and cupped the back of your head. his touch was firm, almost forceful—trying to teach you a lesson.
“c’mon. be a good girl now.”
you moved forward as he forced your head, pressing a kiss to the tip before his warm cock slid past your lips—his hips jerking at the first brush of your tongue.
“fuckin’ hell,” remus groaned with a thud, his head hitting the barn wall as his grip on your hair tightened. “that’s it. that’s it, baby.”
you whimpered at the praise, cheeks hollowing as you took more of him, letting your tongue swirl along the prominent vein on the underside. your jaw tightened, eyes locking right onto him like you wanted nothing more than to please—his calloused fingers tangling in your hair. the hay crunched beneath your knees, feeling his thighs tense as you held onto them.
“just like that, angel. keep goin’—takin’ it like you were made for it. shit—” remus gritted through his teeth, cursing under his breath as you bobbed your head.
your eyes began watering, spit pooling at the corners of your lips as your mouth stretched around him. his cock pushed deeper, slick and hot, reaching the back of your throat as you whined. you were doing well—better than you expected for his size—until your throat suddenly seized.
a sharp, wet gag emitted from your chest before you could stop it.
remus’ hips froze. “shit—” he breathed, low and panicked, the edge of arousal in his voice slipping into something deeper, darker. “you alright, sweetheart?”
your eyes flicked up at him, already stinging with tears—but you didn’t pull away, you didn’t want to. instead, you sucked in another shaky breath through your nose, and pressed forward again—until his pubic hairs tickled your nostrils, gagging again as you met the thick base of him.
his whole body shuddered in response, voice breaking into a growl. “oh—fuckin’ hell—you—”
he couldn’t even finish his sentence, breaths coming out ragged as he watched you with your pretty lips parted, drool dripping down your chin. his cock disappeared in another thrust, your throat clenching hard in another gag.
“christ—look at you,” he rasped, voice hoarse with a mixture of complete awe and filth. “gaggin’ on me like you need it. mouth’s not so smart now, huh darlin’?”
you whimpered around his mocking, the pressure in your throat dizzying. your lashes fluttered, eyes stinging and blown wide—and it made his hips twitch in a jolt as he used you.
you gagged again—this one being violent, loud, involuntary.
and that was it.
remus let out the loudest groan that echoed off the wooden beams of the barn, head tipped back as his control finally snapped. “fuck—there we go, baby—gag on me. gag on my cock. take it—”
his hips snapped into quickened shallow sloppy movements, chasing his high as you blinked through tears—jaw sore as he fed his cock back into your mouth each time, your eyes rolling back.
he twitched on your tongue, coming undone with a deep moan—hot, thick ropes of cum that shot down your throat, your tongue coated in nothing but white.
you swallowed without even thinking, eyes fluttering as you watched him pull out of your aching mouth. he let out a breathy wrecked laugh, slipping a firm hand under your chin, spreading the mess of the spit and cum there with his thumb.
“there we go, sweetheart.” he leaned in, pressing a filthy, lingering kiss to your mouth, tasting himself delightfully on your tongue.
“now,” he drawled, pulling back just enough for his words to ghost your lips. “keep flappin’ that smart mouth, and i’ll have you screamin’ instead. sound good, sugar?”
Summary: When a sleepless night leads to an unexpected friendship.
Warnings: Implied suicidal ideation, mental health themes, mentions of chronic illness (Remus’s lycanthropy), light angst.
Remus Lupin was a man of few words.
His presence was always noticed, even when he didn’t utter a single syllable. It’s what drew you to him in the first place—the quiet, watchful intensity of his stare. You found comfort in his silence, found it was where you could go when you needed a moment of peace. Remus never minded; in fact, he looked forward to the moments you sought him out. He liked being a steady presence to ground you.
No one knew of the unlikely friendship between the two of you. Remus—a Marauder and as private as a person could be with his circle of friends—and you, a Slytherin whose only goal was to make it through Hogwarts in one piece. Nobody knew about the late-night moments of stillness you shared in the astronomy tower. You’d always meet there. It was where everything started, after all.
You’d gone up to the tower one restless night, the weight of an unfinished essay pressing on your shoulders. The tower always helped you think. The quiet wind tugging at your hair, the calm watchfulness of the moon, the stars blinking down as if they knew something you didn’t. It made you feel small. Insignificant. Inconsequential. Like no matter what happened, the world would go on—the wind would keep blowing, the moon would keep watching, the stars would keep knowing. You liked knowing that everything would be okay.
You were so wrapped up in your thoughts that you didn’t notice the figure by the ledge until you’d walked a few steps in. There was a boy, standing on the edge of the tower like he was bracing for something. You always made sure to come here alone, but the stranger’s tense posture worried you. Slowly, you took measured steps toward him—until it suddenly hit you just who the stranger was.
You stopped dead in your tracks.
You knew those broad shoulders, hunched like they carried the weight of the world. You knew those long legs, tense like they were trying to hold him back from a bad decision. You knew that messy hair, catching the moonlight like the light itself was trying to hold him in place.
Remus Lupin was standing at the edge of the astronomy tower, looking like he was trying to make a choice.
You’d seen him sneak up here before, always making yourself scarce before he noticed. But you’d never actually been here with him—never seen what he did once he was alone.
You didn’t know what to do. You weren’t close. He was a Marauder, and they didn’t exactly have a reputation for kindness toward Slytherins. They’d never targeted you, but the stories were everywhere. Maybe it would be better to leave.
But a thought made you pause. Counting the days in your head, you realised the next full moon was a week away. Your expression softened.
You knew Remus was a werewolf. It wasn’t hard to figure out, not if you were paying attention. You’d noticed the trembling of his hands before full moons, the tired set of his jaw afterward. The way his friends watched him with worry. The frequent visits to Madam Pomfrey. Always the same signs, always the same time.
You didn’t know much about him—but you knew enough. So you kept walking.
“Remus?” you said softly, once you were sure he’d noticed you but hadn’t acknowledged it.
He didn’t answer, but he didn’t move either. You stepped closer.
“Remus?” you tried again.
Still nothing.
Now that you could see his face, you recognized the exhaustion in his eyes. The dark shadows beneath them. His uniform was dishevelled, like he’d thrown it on in a rush.
When it became clear he wasn’t going to speak, you stopped trying. You moved to stand beside him at the edge of the tower and said nothing. Just stood with him. Waiting.
It was easy, you realised, to be still with him. To watch the world sleep while anchoring each other to the moment. Easy to be present, even though you barely knew one another. You weren’t sure what made it so, but you were glad for it.
Eventually, the quiet shifted. The heaviness lifted just a bit. You stepped back and sank to the stone floor. After a pause, Remus followed. Somewhat reluctantly, but he followed. And there you sat—silent, side by side—watching the castle grounds and letting the wind tangle in your hair.
“So I have this Potions essay…” you began.
And that was that. Neither of you quite knew how your friendship began so quietly, so simply—but it did.
Because maybe some friendships don’t begin with loud declarations or shared classes or grand gestures. Some begin in silence—in the spaces between words, on sleepless nights, under the steady gaze of the moon. And sometimes, those are the ones that stay with you the longest.
Lyall has to go to Hogwarts, but Remus suddenly clings to him and refuses to let go.
Chapters: 2/?
Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Lyall Lupin & Remus Lupin
Characters: Remus Lupin, Lyall Lupin
Additional Tags: Young Remus Lupin, Remus Lupin Needs a Hug, Welsh Remus Lupin, Childhood Trauma, Psychological Trauma, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Character Death, Good Parent Lyall Lupin, Single Parents, Hugs, Kid Fic, Shy Remus Lupin, Werewolf Remus Lupin, Werewolf Bites, Forehead Kisses, Comfort, Crying Remus Lupin, Sad Remus Lupin, Remus Lupin-centric, Remus Lupin Whump, Father-Son Relationship, Father Figures, POV Remus Lupin, Toddlers, POV Lyall Lupin, Lyall Lupin Professor at Hogwarts, Year 1965s, Dead Hope Lupin, baby remus lupin, Nightmares, Clingy Remus Lupin, Remus Lupin Loves Chocolates
Summary:
5 year old Remus Lupin wakes to a nightmare—his mother is gone, lifeless on the floor, and he's all alone. The only person he has left is his daddy… but where is he? Lost in grief and fear, Remus clings to the only comfort he has left. When Lyall finally returns, he must face the unimaginable: his son has been marked by a monster, and nothing will ever be the same again. How can he soothe Remus’ broken heart while battling his own guilt and sorrow?
cw ⟢ fluff, domestic life, reader wears glasses/contacts, established relationship, reader has hair long enough to tie up, vet!remus has my heart!!
Remus always knew exactly what you needed—you think he may be a mind-reader, even when miles away he's still coming to your rescue.
Not long into your relationship did you realise the extent Remus would go to to make sure you were comfortable. When you would scurry, sock-clad, around your shared flat, looking for things that are clearly hidden in plain sight, Remus couldn’t help but let the corners of mouth curl into a small knowing smile.
He’d watch you for a moment, amused, before finally stepping in—plucking the missing object from its obvious hiding place with an effortless grace that made you huff in exasperation.
“Looking for this, dove?” he’d tease, holding it just out of reach with that infuriatingly gentle smile. And though you’d try to feign annoyance, you could never truly be frustrated—not when he always knew exactly where to find the things you lost, and not when he always handed them over with the softest brush of fingers against yours, as if he relished every excuse to touch you.
“How do you always know?”, folding in the too long cuff of the jumper you had 'borrowed' from Remus, patting down your body, hastily checking pockets, again searching for something else that you somehow never had at the right moment. Coming to the rescue again, Remus handed over one of the many hairbands he kept adorned on his wrists for these very moments.
You looked up at him as he looped the band around your fingers, his touch lingering for just a second too long. His eyes, warm and impossibly fond, crinkled at the edges as he shrugged.
"It’s my job to know," he murmured, watching as you hastily tied your hair back, oblivious to the way his gaze traced each movement.
You huffed a laugh, shaking your head. "Your job?"
"Mhm," he hummed, reaching out to fix the sleeve you’d sloppily folded, his fingers deft and careful. "Someone has to keep track of all the things you forget."
There was no teasing in his voice, only quiet devotion, and it made your heart squeeze and heat crawl up your chest, settling at the back of your neck.
He always seemed to be one step ahead of your forgetful tendencies, so much so that even when he wasn’t physically around, he still was able to predict just exactly what you’d need.
Remus would be gone the whole weekend, called out to support in the surgery of a young mare, having packed an overnight bag—pressing a final kiss on your forehead in farewell, “I’ll call you once I’m off the train, okay, dove?”
You had nodded sleepily, wrapped in the cocoon of another one of his jumper, murmuring a soft “Mhm, be safe.” And just like that, he was gone, leaving the house feeling a little too quiet in his absence.
When you woke up, far too late into the afternoon, the sun lightly streaming in through the gaps of the blinds in your room. A prolonged session of tossing and turning later, small groans leaving your lips as stretch your sleep-ridden muscles.
With a sigh, you blinked blearily at the room, the world around you still a soft blur. It took only a second for you to realise—your glasses were missing.
Muttering under your breath, you patted around the bedside table, coming up empty. The dresser? No. The desk? Not there either. You ran a hand through your hair, groaning in frustration as you swung your legs over the side of the bed, padding toward the bathroom in defeat.
Rubbing your eyes too hard, a small kaleidoscope bursting behind your lids; mentally preparing yourself for a long day of dry eyes and extra long blinks from wearing your lenses.
And there it was—a familiar scrap of yellow stuck to the mirror.
"Cabinet, dove. You left them on the kitchen table last night—again. Figured you’d need them first thing. Hope you slept well. Miss you already."
A sleepy smile tugged at your lips as you opened the cabinet, and sure enough, your glasses sat neatly inside, waiting for you. Shaking your head, you slipped them on, the world snapping into sharp focus, the note in the mirror now clearer—his careful handwriting filled with so much quiet affection.
The rest of the weekend passed quicker than you had expected, but as the moon lowered passed the skyline on the day of Remus’ return. You'd been stationed at your dining table, getting ahead on your work tasks assigned for the next morning—in hopes of leaving early and preparing Remus’ favourite dish, as a small token of appreciation.
Mindlessly reaching over to your mug, now less than half full of gone-cold tea. Your stomach protested with a small rumble; as you took a reluctant sip, wrinkling your nose at the cold temperature. With a sigh, you set the mug down and rubbed at your eyes, feeling the exhaustion of staring at your screen all day settle behind your eyes.
Your stomach rumbled again, louder this time, demanding attention. Pushing yourself up, you shuffled toward the kitchen, in search of a snack, that you noticed the small note stuck to the biscuit tin.
"Knew you’d come looking. Enjoy, love. P.S. Check the coat rack."
Scoffing, but grinning despite yourself, you padded over to the front door. Sure enough, hanging from the hook was your scarf—the one you had sworn you lost last week. And tucked into the pocket was another little note in his neat, slanted handwriting:
"It was in the laundry basket. Again."
You huffed out a laugh, warmth blooming in your chest. He really thought of everything, didn’t he?
You waited in the corner of seat of the settee, legs folded beneath you, covered with a blanket—as you exhaled heavily through your nose. The moon already hung high in the night sky, the clock above the TV read, 00:37am.
Dragging your feet back into you room, you sighed from the door frame, almost glaring at your bed. Too big, too cold, too empty just for you. Instead of moping into bed, you grabbed your (Remus’) pillow and retreated back into the living room. A full weekend of sleeping alone wasn’t in your cards, but alas, surely he was caught up with something completely unavoidable.
By the time Remus tiredly trudged into your home, it was nearly half-past four in the morning; setting his duffel bag down, like it weighed so much more than the mere few kilos of scrubs and work shoes and books inside. His shoulders ached, his limbs heavy with exhaustion, but none of it mattered the moment he caught sight of you—curled up on the couch, fast asleep, you glasses hanging recklessly off your nose—’are you still watching?’, displayed on the TV.
He exhaled softly, a ghost of a smile tugging at his lips as he toed off his shoes, careful not to make too much noise. Of course, you had tried to stay up for him. He should have known.
Shaking his head fondly, he draped the throw blanket more securely over you before crouching down beside the couch. His fingers traced gently over the edge of your sleeve, his touch featherlight, hesitant to wake you. But still, as if you could sense him even in sleep, you stirred—your nose scrunching before your eyes fluttered open, bleary and unfocused.
"Rem?" Your voice was thick with sleep, barely above a whisper.
"It’s me, dove," he murmured, his thumb brushing over your wrist in a slow, soothing motion. "You didn’t have to stay up for me, y’know."
But instead, you reached for him, your fingers curling around the front of his coat, tugging him just close enough that he couldn't resist pressing a kiss to your forehead.
"Missed you," you mumbled against his collar.
"Missed you more," he admitted, his voice barely more than a sigh as he gathered you into his arms, sinking into the warmth of home at last.
I found this song today and it brought me right back to Aberforth's little guest house that Painter, Remus and Sirius are living out of at the end of Painting and now my heart is bleeding all over the place and I want to find more to write about in that little home.
