marauderstrashh

[marauderstrashh]

Their Touch (18+)

The first thing you noticed was the warm quiet.

Morning sunlight filtered weakly through the curtains, the muted hum of London muffled by the windowpanes. Your body ached in that heavy, languid way that had nothing to do with exhaustion and everything to do with the night before, a pleasant ache left behind.

And then you noticed him.

Remus was still beside you, already half-awake, the curve of his back to you as he propped himself on one elbow. A book rested in his free hand, hair disheveled, as if he hadn’t moved at all, like he’d been awake long enough to settle into his own stillness again.

“You’re staring,” he said, voice rough with sleep.

You flushed. “I was just-”

“Thinking about running?” He finally glanced at you, mouth twitching faintly, a ghost of a frown

You shook your head. “No..”

That earned you a real smile, soft and fleeting. “Good.”

The sound of a door slamming open down the hall cut off anything else he might have said. A burst of laughter followed, unmistakably James’s, and then Sirius’s low growl of amusement. Within moments, they were barreling into the room like a storm,  resulting in you pulling the sheets up closer to your chin.

“There you are,” Sirius announced, climbing onto the bed without hesitation. His hair was a mess, his shirt buttoned unevenly, and he looked unrepentant about both. “Did you two have fun without us, dove?”

James followed, sliding in on your other side with the kind of warmth that pressed in close without asking permission. His arm curled lazily around your waist as though it had always belonged there, nose touching your shoulder as he hummed “You look wrecked,” he teased softly, though his eyes glinted with curiosity more than mockery.

You barely had time to answer before Sirius tipped your chin up with a finger, inspecting you like a cat with a new toy, predatory gaze  “Hot, isn’t she, Jamie?” he said to James, grin dangerous “Reckon we should see if she tastes as sweet as she looks, hm?”

Your breath caught, but James hushed Sirius with a nudge, pressing his lips to your shoulder instead. His mouth was warm, reverent. “Don’t scare her off, Siri” he murmured against your skin, though his hand slid possessively over your hip. “She deserves to be spoiled first, isn't that right?”

The air in the bedroom had thickened, humming with three different energies that wrapped around you like smoke. James slid from his spot and down the bed with purpose, his curls falling forward into his eyes, his palms steady at your hips. He kissed every inch of you as though he couldn't bear to miss a single place, each one warm, deliberate, reverent.

"You'll let me, won't you?" he murmured against your skin, his breath hot, his voice low and rough with want and devotion. "You'll let me spoil you properly?"

Before you could answer, his mouth moved lower, so slow it ached, lips dragging, pausing to hum against you like he was already savoring a feast. His hands tightened just slightly, fingertips digging into your sides as though anchoring himself there forever to be lost in the taste of you.

Remus didn't move from where he sat higher up the bed, but his hand closed firmly around yours, thumb stroking across your knuckles. His eyes locked on your face, not James's movements between your legs. "Breathe," he reminded, calm but insistent. "Don't hide from it. Jamie is very-...well eager." His voice slipped into you like a command you couldn't disobey.

Sirius had no such restraint, He leaned over you from the side, his wild hair brushing against your cheek as his mouth found the slope of your throat. His teeth grazed, then bit down with sharp precision, enough to make you whine. He grinned at the sound, pulling back just to admire the red mark blooming there before lowering his mouth again, biting harder.

"She likes it, Moony," Sirius said smugly, looking up at Remus as though daring him to disagree. His hand spread possessively over your thigh, fingers gripping tight, thumb pressing into the tender flesh as he claimed more space against you, while also making space for James.

James's only response was a low groan of satisfaction against your cunt as he continued his work, slow, indulgent, hungry. Every movement of his mouth was careful and unrelenting, his devotion obvious in the way he refused to rush. He pressed in closer, deeper, as though he could lose himself in your taste completely if someone didn't stop him.

Your body arched helplessly, caught between Sirius's sharp, stinging bites at your shoulder and James's endless, consuming desire below. The contrast was dizzying, fire and lust pulling at you from different sides.

And through it all, Remus's hand kept yours pinned to the mattress, his voice threading through every sensation like steel in silk.

"Good," he rasped, his thumb pressing harder into your palm when your breath stuttered, a grounding motion, "That's it. Don't hold back. Give it to them. Let James drown himself in you. Let Sirius mark you. I've got you."

James hummed again at Remus's words, the vibration sending another tremor through you, and Sirius sank his teeth deeper into the curve of your shoulder, pulling a sound from you that you hadn't realized you could make.

"Beautiful," James whispered between licks, voice reverent, lips slick against your skin. "Perfect, perfect, perfect..." He punctuated each word with another slow stroke of his mouth, desperate to wring every last shiver out of you, panting helplessly.

Sirius laughed low in your ear, sharp and dark. "Listen to her. Falling apart for us already." His teeth scraped again, his tongue following to soothe the sting, his grip on your thigh tightening like he could drag you deeper into the pit of unrelenting pleasure.

Remus's voice rose over them both, sharp but steady, commanding. "Cum, Don't fight it. Let go, give Jamie what he wants, dove."

And when it finally broke, as your body gave into the sinful pleasure, your thighs trembling around James's head with sultry moans and whines. Hands desperately grasping at Remus's as Sirius cooed at your whines, James all but moaning into you as he lapped up every bit of your release. 

"That's it," Remus praised, voice rough and low, his thumb brushing firmly over your knuckles. "So good for us,"

The world was covered in a haze once more, rustling of fabrics as whatever clothing James and Sirius wore were discarded before they climbed into the bed with you and Remus. Hands pulled and repositioned you for maximum comfort as the four of you finally settled down for a mid morning nap following the rather exciting activities you lot had just engaged in.

[marauderstrashh]

His Voice (18+)

(AN: Hellooooooo, I'm alive I swear. I work 80+ hrs so I've been writing just not posting. Cut is places where it hits 18+.) The pub was loud, spilling over with the chatter of weekend regulars and newly of age college students, but you noticed them the moment you stepped inside. Three men in a booth tucked into the far corner, the kind of corner claimed by people who owned a place even if they didn't. James had his arm draped around Sirius's shoulders, his lips brushing Sirius's ear in a whisper that had the other man laughing too loudly, head tipping back so that his silver earrings caught the dim lights.

And across from them sat the third, Remus.

Older. Quieter. The kind of man who looked like he'd been dragged there against his will and yet was tolerating it with something close to fond amusement in his eyes as he watched his two boyfriends. He nursed a pint with long fingers, his gaze steady as it tracked the room... and then, inevitably, found you.

You should have looked away... But you didn't, couldn't.

By the time you reached the bar, Sirius was already pushing himself out of the booth, grinning like trouble as James trailed him. "You," Sirius said, as though he'd been expecting you. "You need a drink, darling-"

You blinked, startled, but James's easy smile smoothed the edges. "Ignore him, he's terrible at introductions. I'm James, this is Sirius, and that grumpy sod back there is Remus."

You let them buy you a drink, and before you could properly protest, they were guiding you back toward the booth, trapped between them as they had their arms slung across both your shoulders. Sirius pressed in close beside James again, already distracted by the way James kissed his temple mid-conversation, fingers skimming down his arm. They were magnetic, impossible to ignore, but your eyes kept straying across the table.

Remus hadn't said much, He didn't need to. His gaze lingered on you like he was reading something you hadn't realized you were broadcasting, your lack of mask making it incredibly easy for him.

Hours blurred, drinks, laughter, Sirius's wild stories, James's sharp humor cutting in at just the right moments. They were a pair of storms caught in orbit around each other. But Remus... he was the anchor, silent and happily attuned to the conversation.

And it was him who finally leaned forward, voice low enough that it was meant only for you. "They're shameless, aren't they?"

You startled a little, smiling despite yourself. "A  little bit."

"You don't have to play along if it's too much." His eyes a warm brown, but sharp at the edges, cut into you like he'd already guessed the thoughts in your head. "They can be overwhelming."

"Overwhelming in a good way.." you admitted.

His mouth curved, the faintest twitch that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Dangerous words."

It was James, inevitably, who tossed out the offer. "Come back with us." He said it like it was the most natural thing in the world, as though you'd known them forever and not a few fleeting hours.

You hesitated. Sirius tilted his head against James's shoulder and grinned like a devil. "We don't bite." Then, after a beat, "Well, unless you ask nicely."

The air shifted then, subtle but thick. Remus's eyes never left you. He didn't add to the cajoling, didn't push. He only waited.

And in the end, it wasn't Sirius's wild grin or James's warm invitation that made you nod—it was the quiet way Remus's gaze steadied you, like you were safe even if you stepped into something unknown.

Their flat was exactly what you expected: a little messy, mismatched furniture, the faint smell of whiskey and smoke clinging to the air. James and Sirius disappeared into each other almost instantly, trailing laughter and kisses down the hall until a door clicked shut.

Which left you with him.

Remus leaned against the kitchen counter, watching you the same way he had at the pub—measured, assessing, like he was cataloguing every shift in your expression.

"You're nervous." It wasn't a question.

You swallowed. "A little."

His eyes softened. "Good. Nerves mean you're thinking. Means you care what happens next."

You didn't know what to say, so you didn't say anything at all. And he crossed the room in two long strides, his hand catching your chin, tilting your face up. Not rough, but firm and controlled in a way that made heat curl low in your stomach.

"If you want me to stop, you say it. If you want me to slow down, you say it. If you want more—" His voice dropped, a rasp that brushed over your skin. "You say it."

The first kiss was almost chaste. Almost. But then he deepened it, and your knees went weak.

Later with skin against skin, the world narrowed to the weight of him above you, his words became sharper. 

"You're doing so well," he murmured against your throat, his breath hot. "Taking me so perfectly, Darling." he groaned into your skin.

Your gasp drew the faintest smile from him. His hand threaded with yours against the rumpled duvet, grounding you, even as his voice turned darker, filthier.

"Don't hide from it. I want to hear you." His tone left no room for argument "Every sound. Every breath. Give it to me." Remus demanded, his free hand pulling your thigh further up onto his waist as he drilled into you.

The world blurred, pleasure building sharp and near consuming, and his voice chased you right to the edge.

"Good girl, Don't fight it.. Give it to me, baby. I've got you, c'mon-" He crooned into your ear

You clung to him, shaking, every nerve lit bright as needy whines and moans spilled from your mouth. His words, dirty, precise, relentless, had carried you through until the only thing you could do was obey  as he chased his own end. Remus was a sight to behold, his tan and scar littered skin shone in the dull light of the room as he thrusted into you. His hands held your hips in an iron grip, eyes lit ablaze with filthy desire.  "Where do you want it, hm?" Remus cooed almost mockingly  "Gods-" You had whined, grasping at his hands on your hips "I-In me..Please-"  "Such a good girl." He groaned finding his own release

Finally you felt the warmth of him inside you, his quiet words finally filtering through the haze in your mind as you looked up at him with slightly teary eyes.

"That's it. Breathe. You're safe. I've got you, my dear." Remus hummed to you, gently pulling out A small hiss and whine had left your lips, only to be shushed as he only stepped away for a moment for a warm rag. Remus cleaned up the aftermath with such a delicate hand and so full of care, you had sighed and let your eyes fall shut for only a moment. 

You were slightly jostled when he climbed back into the bed, settling you both under the duvet and pulling you close. You rested your head against his chest, tucked neatly beneath his chin, eyes far too heavy to fight the pull of sleep. "Sleep, darling, it's late." He hummed, sighing into your hair as his own eyes fell shut

[marauderstrashh]

Last of The Real Ones

                                           lıllılı.ıllı.ılılıılıı.lllııılı.                                                Now Playing                                     [Last Of The Real Ones]                                     0:46 ———♡——— 3:50                                               ◁◁ ▐ ▌ ▷▷

You'd always felt like the extra piece in someone else's puzzle — close, but never quite fitting. A little too much here, a little too strange there. Friends cycled through your life like seasons: fast, bright, gone. Lovers, if they ever deserved the title, came in even briefer waves. You never really expected permanence, only flashes of what it could feel like — the idea of being someone's real one seemed like fantasy. Something reserved for love songs and late-night daydreams.

Then you met them.

It was an art gallery. A moody, low-lit place in the heart of the city, tucked between an occult bookstore and a café that only served drinks in antique teacups. You went alone, not expecting anything more than silence and a brief escape from your spiraling thoughts.

But then they walked in loud, laughing, impossible to miss.

James was the first one you noticed. His smile stretched like a sunrise — wide, unapologetic, warm enough to heat the whole damn building. He was all golden limbs and chaotic energy, gesturing wildly as he teased Sirius for taking too long at the bar.

Sirius, in contrast, was sleek and sharp, all leather and silver jewelry, and an attitude that screamed 'I bite'. His smirk was devilish — the kind that had broken hearts and probably done so unapologetically. But his eyes... there was something searching in them. Restless, like he was always waiting for the other shoe to drop.

And then there was Remus — quiet at first glance, but watching everything. His gaze caught you before his voice did, thoughtful and slow. He didn't move like the others, didn't demand space. But when he looked at you, it was like he saw you. Not just your face. Everything underneath.

You caught James's attention by accident — laughing at a piece of abstract art with a title so absurd it practically begged for mockery. He was next to you in a second, adding his own commentary with infectious enthusiasm. Sirius appeared shortly after, pretending to be scandalized, and Remus just leaned in quietly, asking your name like he had already chatted with you for hours, a warm type of familiarity.

You didn't know how it happened. One moment you were a stranger at an art gallery. The next, you were seated in their booth at the bar next door, a drink in hand, all three of them orbiting you like gravity had shifted in your favor.

"You're not like most people," Sirius said, two hours later. His voice was low, slurred just enough to be honest.

"Is that a bad thing?" you asked.

"No," Remus said firmly. "It's rare. That's why he noticed."

Sirius glared, but didn't argue.

James nudged your knee under the table, smiling in that way that made your stomach twist. "You're one of the real ones, aren't you?"

You raised an eyebrow. "The last of them, maybe."

"Exactly," he said, like that sealed it.

Things moved fast, Like the way stars burn brightest before they collapse. Only this never collapsed.... It just kept building.

They let you in — not just into their lives, but their home. A loft above a record store with too many books, mismatched furniture, and plants that only Remus remembered to water. There was never silence, never stillness. James danced while cooking, Sirius read aloud from banned books with dramatic flair, and Remus left notes on mirrors that said things like You are needed. You are enough.

You weren't sure what this was — friends, lovers, something in between? But it felt like something. Like finally, you'd been found by people who didn't want to fix you, tame you, or put you in a box that had harsh corners.

They took turns drawing you in. James with his boundless love, always ready to tell you how amazing you were — how he would fight a ridiculous amount of people for you if he had to. Sirius with his insight, understanding your darkness because he had his own that he dealt with. And Remus, who steadied you without even trying, whose soft words at 2 a.m. kept you from falling apart over a shared hot chocolate and throw blanket.

You once asked them if it was real. If you were real to them.

James kissed your knuckles and said, "You're the part we didn't know was missing."

Sirius murmured, "I don't believe in fate. But if I did... I'd say it brought you to us."

And Remus, gentle and sure, said, "You make us better, Dove. That's real enough for me."

But loving them wasn't easy.

There were nights Sirius disappeared for hours, coming back smelling like smoke and regret. Days James crashed hard, his brightness dimmed, shadows under his eyes like bruises from the inside out. Remus carried scars he rarely spoke of, but you felt them when he clung to you in the dark, whispering that he was afraid of hurting you by being too much, or not loving himself the way you did.

You understood. You had your own messes, too. Your own spirals. But that was the thing: they never let go. Not when you panicked in the grocery store. Not when you cried because the world felt too heavy and loud. Not when you told them you'd never felt wanted before they came along.

They just held you tighter.

"We want all of you," James said, gripping your face like it was the most important thing he'd ever said.

"Even the broken pieces?" you whispered.

Sirius laughed softly. "Especially those."

Remus simply nodded. "You're ours." James hummed out once more "We can always gild the cracks in gold, Lovie. No need to hide the broken bits."

One night, the four of you ended up on the rooftop. The city sparkled below, infinite and unknowable.

"I used to think I was too much," you admitted.

James wrapped his arms around you from behind. "Then you found three people who are just as much."

"You saved us, you know," Sirius murmured, lighting a cigarette and passing it to you first. "We were starting to think we couldn't feel anything real anymore...That we had grown selfish and only felt what we wanted between the three of us."

You took a drag, passed it to Remus.

"You reminded us what it's like," he said. "To believe. To belong."

You looked at the three of them, these beautiful, wild, complicated men — and realized you weren't lost anymore.

You were home.

Because in a world full of counterfeit connections and temporary highs, you'd found something unshakable.

Not perfect.

But real.

And that's what love is, isn't it?

Finding the ones who see your chaos and say, Stay. We've got you.

The last of the real ones — together.

Forever, if you'd have it.

And you would.

You already did.

[marauderstrashh]

Bear with me

Im trying a story lay out, main story and the following chapters being an interaction with the boys individually.

[marauderstrashh]

Starfall Hearts

You liked being quiet.

It wasn't that you didn't have things to say, your mind was a swirl of thoughts, facts, questions, and connections. It was just that people often didn't slow down enough to make you feel safe saying them aloud. Your world was quieter, softer, not emptier.

But it was full of stars, beautiful shining stars.

The stars had always made sense to you. Infinite, yes, but patterned. Chaotic, yes, but ancient and grounded in rules. You could trace constellations in the air during mid day, whisper their names like the prayer of forgiveness. You knew Betelgeuse's brightness was fading, and that Orion would one day disappear. You could talk for hours about binary stars and the heartbreak of dying red giants—but only if someone really, truly wanted to listen. Often, those who said they wanted to hear about it would beg for another topic shortly after you began telling them about it.

You didn't think anyone would want to listen. Until you met them. Three of the brightest stars you have ever come across.

James, Sirius, and Remus were... a lot. At first, overwhelming. James with his golden smile and infectious laugh; Sirius with his thunderstorm energy and too-sharp cheekbones; Remus with quiet eyes that saw too much and a voice like warm tea, the scars across his face mirroring the tails of shooting stars.

They were a unit, clearly. It didn't take long to realize they were together—something in the way they existed like overlapping orbits. The way James absentmindedly fixed Remus's collar when it got messed up, Sirius always touching James's wrist when he laughed, Remus looking at Sirius like he hung the moon and stars.

You met them through a friend who dragged you to a rooftop poetry reading, despite your want to not go. You stood near the railing, half-listening, half-tracing the stars above the city light. Someone nudged your arm with a paper cup of cider and a soft "Hey," and you looked up into Remus's gentle smile.

"I overheard you talking about the Perseids," he said. "Are you an astronomer?"

"No," you said, a little too quickly. "I just... know some things."

That was more than enough for Remus.

He introduced you to James and Sirius like you were already important.

James said your name like it was something he'd always known, the syllables rolling off his tongue.

Sirius teased you immediately—about your quiet voice, your serious eyes—but you didn't flinch. You learned that teasing was his way of paying attention, a way of affection.

That first night, they stayed on the rooftop with you long after the poetry ended. James kept asking questions—he wanted to know everything. Sirius laid down on the concrete, arms folded behind his head, gazing up as you talked about starbirth and dark matter.

Remus kept sneaking glances at you, like he was memorizing the way you lit up when Sirius would match your knowledge with proper questions.

They didn't talk over you. They didn't rush you.

They listened.

The weeks passed like dreams stitched together.

They invited you to brunches and lazy bookstore afternoons, to midnight walks and movie marathons that lasted well into the early hours of some mornings. They didn't push, just let you orbit closer, at your own pace.

James started calling you "Star," and it didn't feel corny. It felt.. sweet.

Sirius called you "Professor," grinning when you corrected his constellation myths, and sometimes you caught him looking at you while you were writing in the notebook you usually carried, when he thought you wouldn't notice.

Remus gave you his annotated copy of Cosmos, with margins filled with thoughts and questions for you. "Write in it," he said. "Make it ours."

One night, the four of you drove out of the city, past the light pollution, into the kind of night that belonged to the stars.

You sat on a blanket in the dewy grass. James pointed out Cassiopeia with wide eyes, Sirius traced shooting stars with his fingers, and Remus leaned against your side with a sigh like he'd been waiting for that moment all his life.

You had gently directed James's hand to Cepheus just above Cassiopeia, quietly telling him about how they were connected. 

"I used to think the stars didn't care," you whispered, watching the sky. "But lately... it feels like maybe they do, you know?"

Sirius, lying on his back, said, "If they do, they probably sent you to us."

James kept your hand in his, he hadn't actually let go since you helped him point out the King. You let him hold it. "We've been around each other so long," he said softly. "And now you."

Remus shifted so his cheek was against your shoulder. "We don't want to rush you. But we're here. If you ever want to fall or be heard."

You weren't used to being wanted like that. Carefully. Softly. Without any intention other than innocent love.

You were a shy thing. A cautious creature. But with them, you found a voice you hadn't known you had.

You became a part of their world slowly, like dawn. You shared coffee on sleepy mornings, curled on Sirius's lap during thunderstorms, read aloud to Remus when his joints ached. You watched James play football and Sirius cook with reckless abandon, and Remus write poetry that he never shared with anyone else but looked so beautiful while he wrote.

They loved differently, but they all loved you wholly.

James made you feel seen. He pulled you into the light with laughter and warmth, telling everyone proudly about your star knowledge, begging you to talk about the stars like it was magic. His hand always at your lower back as encouragement.

Sirius made you feel brave. He matched your silence with understanding, taught you how to yell into the night, but held you tight when you needed quiet. He shared a cigarette with you whenever you were too overwhelmed to be angry.

Remus made you feel understood. He saw the spaces between your words and held them gently, like they mattered. His silent presence was all you really needed when the days were harsh on your psyche.

One night, the four of you laid tangled on a rooftop again with a beat up blanket Sirius had brought along—your first one, now only favorite spot with them—and you traced Orion with your finger.

"You know," you said softly, "Orion is made of dying stars. They shine so brightly, but they're nearing the end."

Sirius kissed your temple. "Those beautiful, doomed bastards."

James grinned. "Sounds like us, Darling."

Remus said, "But they're still beautiful. Even knowing the end."

You were quiet for a moment, then whispered, "I'm not a star."

"No," Remus said, kissing your hand. "You're our entire universe, love."

You were shy. But they gave you space to open up and thrive with them.

And you loved them. Three men who found the universe in you, and gave you one back in return.

Sometimes, love doesn't shout. Sometimes, it whispers in starlight and grows in the quiet spaces between.

And under a sky that always remembered your name, you found home in their hearts and built your own piece of paradise in them.

[marauderstrashh]

Character Letters

Hello, my darlings! I've decided, since everyone has been very patient and loving towards me and my stories, That I would like to choose 3 very special people to send a customized character letter to! It could be from the Marauders or any HP character there is! So please, Blow up my asks to submit to receive a Letter! If you are chosen, I will message you personally to get the information! PLEASE: Leave either your @ or an Identifying emoji on the ask so I can properly keep track of the submissions!

Much Love, Marauderstrashh.

[marauderstrashh]

Heartbeat in The Music

You'd waited months for this night. A sold-out show. Your favorite band. Front-row energy. The speakers shook the ground with every beat, and the crowd was a pulsing, unified body of joy. The lights—brilliant and blinding—bounced over thousands of faces, but for a while, it felt like the music was only for you. Your carefully picked out attire for the night complimented a few times by passing concert goers.

Until everything started spinning.

The sweat on your skin cooled too quickly, and your legs trembled. You blinked. Once. Twice. The stage blurred. Your knees buckled as a sharp static hiss replaced the music in your ears.

And then—darkness.

⊹︵︵︵ ⊹ 𝄞 ⊹ ︵︵︵ ⊹⊹︵︵︵ ⊹ 𝄞 ⊹ ︵︵︵ ⊹⊹︵︵︵ ⊹ 𝄞 ⊹ ︵︵︵    

James had just returned from the bar with three beers in a precarious stack, weaving back toward Sirius and Remus, who were tucked into a corner of the venue with a perfect view.

"Miss me?" James grinned as Sirius stole the top drink and Remus wrapped an arm around his waist.

"We timed you," Sirius said. "You were gone for one and a half songs."

"Long enough for someone to faint, too." Remus added, brow furrowed.

James blinked, looking around. "What?"

Remus was already pointing, and sure enough, someone—you—had collapsed near the front of the crowd. Security was slow to notice, and most of the audience just stepped aside. But James and Sirius moved before the beer hit the ground.

Remus followed, not hesitating to flash his medical ID when they pushed through the crowd.

You were still unconscious when they knelt beside you, your limbs limp, face pale and sweaty, pulse weak but present.

"Too hot, too crowded," Remus murmured, fingers checking your wrist. "Mild dehydration maybe, she's awfully pale."

James had already pulled off his jacket and rolled it under your head. "Hey, hey, she's coming to."

Your lashes fluttered.

"Hi there," Sirius said softly, eyes dark with concern. "Can you hear me?"

You blinked up, and three unfamiliar faces looked down at you—one with unruly curls and round glasses, one with ink-black hair and a concerned smirk, and another with gentle amber eyes and a few pale scars across his face.

"Don't panic," Remus said, his voice the calm center of a storm as he rubbed your arm. "You fainted, but you're safe. We're off-duty, but we're trained. I'm a doctor. These two are paramedics."

"I—" Your voice cracked. "Sorry. I—"

"No need for apologies," James said with a warm grin. "You gave the concert a dramatic twist. I'd give it five stars."

Sirius elbowed him lightly, then turned back to you. "Can you sit up slowly? Let's not rush."

You nodded, cheeks flushing, head still fuzzy. As they helped you upright, Sirius pulled a chilled bottle of water from his coat pocket like some kind of rockstar magician.

"Here. Sip slow. You're okay."

Your eyes welled, from the overload of everything—embarrassment, fear, and relief.

"Hey, hey," Remus soothed. "Nothing to be ashamed of. You're not the first, and you won't be the last."

"Do you have someone here with you?" James asked, scanning the crowd.

You shook your head. "I came alone, everyone I knew was busy..."

Something flickered between the three men. Sirius tilted his head.

"Well, that won't do. You're officially adopted for the night, sweetheart."

"I—what?"

"Look, you clearly need to be monitored a bit," Remus said gently. "And the med tent line is probably insane. Why don't you come sit with us for the rest of the concert? We'll keep an eye on you. No pressure."

Your mind protested—you didn't even know these men—but your body leaned into the comfort of their presence.

And something about their trio—their seamless way of moving around each other, the soft touches, the silent glances—told you that they weren't just friends. They were something more. A whole.

You let out a breath. "Okay, yeah.."

⊹︵︵︵ ⊹ 𝄞 ⊹ ︵︵︵ ⊹⊹︵︵︵ ⊹ 𝄞 ⊹ ︵︵︵ ⊹⊹︵︵︵ ⊹ 𝄞 ⊹ ︵︵︵

Back at their spot, Sirius spread out a jacket for you to sit on, James offered you his unopened beer (you declined with a laugh), and Remus kept subtly checking your color and your pulse as the music swelled again.

And you felt...safe.

It was absurd and beautiful.

The crowd danced around you, lights flashing, but here you were—tucked into the quiet eye of the storm, flanked by three warm presences who cracked jokes, whispered comments about the music, and treated you like you belonged.

At one point, you leaned a little to the side, and James caught you without missing a beat, arm looping around your shoulder.

"You okay, Lovey?"

You nodded.

"Still with us?" Sirius teased, his voice low and close as he rubbed your upper back.

"Yeah," you murmured, your voice steadier. "I think I'm okay.."

Remus chuckled. "We were hoping so, despite the attention it gets you, fainting has terrible physical consequences if you fall the wrong way." You laughed, comfortable as James kept his arm around your shoulders and Sirius's hand on your upper back.

⊹︵︵︵ ⊹ 𝄞 ⊹ ︵︵︵ ⊹⊹︵︵︵ ⊹ 𝄞 ⊹ ︵︵︵ ⊹⊹︵︵︵ ⊹ 𝄞 ⊹ ︵︵︵

After the encore, the crowd filed out in waves, and they walked you to your car—or rather, they insisted. Sirius offered his arm gallantly, and Remus handed you a little paper with their names and a number written in tidy handwriting.

"In case you feel off later," he said. "Text or call. No pressure. But... we'd like to know you're okay."

You looked down at the note. James, Sirius, Remus.

Three names. One heart, you realized.

You looked up, smiled shyly. "I think I'd like that."

James winked. "Next time, maybe we can skip the fainting and go straight to the drinks after the show?"

"And maybe," Sirius added, "you can hear the story of how we saved a girl at a concert."

You laughed. "I think she might've not survived without you lot."

And with that, they watched you drive off safely—three hearts just a little fuller.

And yours?

Well, yours beat stronger than it had in hours, coloring your face with a pleasant smile.

[marauderstrashh]

Alone Together

                                            lıllılı.ıllı.ılılıılıı.lllııılı.                                  Now Playing [Alone Together]                                         0:26 ———♡——— 3:50                                                    ◁◁ ▐ ▌ ▷▷

   Some people crave quiet. You were never one of them.

The world was always too loud or too still, and you lived somewhere in between — a little messy, a little restless, and entirely too romantic for your own good.

Which is probably how you ended up tangled in the lives of three boys who made being in love feel like a revolution, like life had a new meaning.

Remus. James. Sirius.

You met them the way people meet chaos: accidentally, but entirely welcomed.

•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•* 

It started at a rooftop party, the kind where the air smelled like beer and cigarettes and ambition.

You were balancing a red cup on the edge of a too-low brick wall, watching the city blink beneath you like a heartbeat, when a voice beside you said, “You look like you're about to jump or write poetry. Either way, I had to check, dove."

You turned.

Tall. Lean. Sharp cheekbones. A smirk that could kill. To die for eyes.

Sirius Black.

Before you could decide whether to flirt back or tell him to go away, someone else joined him, already laughing. “Merlin, mate, let people have one brooding moment.”

This one — golden curls, big grin, cute glasses, energy like sunlight trapped in a human body — nudged Sirius’s shoulder.

James Potter.

And finally, him. The third.

Quieter. Watching you instead of the skyline. Hands in his pockets, but still somehow more grounded than either of the others. His skin sun kissed and freckled with lighter scars on his face.

Remus Lupin.

You hadn’t planned on meeting anyone that night. Especially not them.

Especially not falling in love with all of them at once.

•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•* 

Being with them was like setting fire to your own loneliness.

They were already a thing — close in that way that didn’t need labels. The kind of bond you only find in war or in childhood. You were the outsider at first, but they let you in like you’d always been there.

And then came the nights.

The four of you in someone's too-small flat, bodies tangled on couches and rugs, the air thick with heat and music and unspoken feelings.

Sirius made everything dramatic — always pressing play on records that sounded like heartbreak and shouting lyrics into your neck. He kissed like he wanted to be remembered.

James burned like gasoline — laughing with you until your stomach hurt, carrying you over puddles, driving too fast at night with your legs on his lap and his hand on your thigh, singing along to punk songs like they were gospel.

And Remus — soft Remus — looked at you like you were a secret he didn’t deserve to know. He wrote things in notebooks he never let you read. He kissed your wrist. Your shoulder. The hollow of your throat. He told you you made the noise stop.

It was never official.

There were no rules.

But you knew.

They were yours. And you were theirs.

•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•* 

The city was alive around you — honking cars, flickering streetlights, the air thick with humidity and July.

You were walking home from work, headphones in, trying not to cry over something you couldn’t even name. Your chest felt too tight, your skin too thin. You didn’t want to go home, but you had nowhere else to be.

So when Sirius texted “Come to the bridge,” you didn’t question it.

You found them leaning on the rail of the overpass just after midnight, the three of them, in that way they always were — like a painting you weren’t sure you were allowed to touch.

Remus noticed you first. “You okay?”

You nodded. Lied. “Yeah.”

James saw through it. “No, you’re not.”

Sirius reached for your hand without asking. He always knew when you didn’t want to talk — just wanted to exist. So you stood there, quiet, watching the cars pass underneath in a blur of light.

The world felt so big. You felt so small.

You turned to them, suddenly overwhelmed, your voice barely a whisper:

"I don't know where you're going… but do you got room for one more troubled soul?"

For a second, no one said anything.

Then James pulled you into a hug so tight your ribs creaked. “We’ve always got room.”

Sirius rested his chin on your shoulder, his voice warm in your ear. “You’re not one more. You’re already part of us.”

Remus, ever the anchor, looked at you like you were a constellation he was trying to memorize. “You’re not a guest here. You’re home.”

You closed your eyes.

Let them hold you.

Let yourself believe it.

Let’s be alone together. Let’s be young forever. Let’s make it messy, make it loud, make it worth every second we don’t get back.

And so you did.

Every day. Every night.

All in.

Together.

•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•* 

“Let’s be alone together.”

It became a joke. A code.

On days when James called out of work because he couldn’t take one more emergency.

When Sirius showed up at your door at 2 a.m. with bloodshot eyes and said nothing at all.

When Remus held your hand in crowded rooms and didn’t let go until you breathed again.

“Let’s be alone together.”

So you’d escape.

Drive until the lights faded behind you. Sit on rooftops to have a cheeky smoke. Sneak into closed movie theaters. Sleep in a pile in the back of someone’s car like teens who never grew up.

No questions. No expectations.

Just you and them, trying to outrun the ache of the world. •*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•* 

“My heart is like a stallion, they love it more when it’s broken.”

You weren't perfect. None of you were. Everyone flawed in their own beautiful way.

Sirius pushed people away before they could leave, his bleeding heart scared of further pain.

James wanted to fix everything and hated himself when he couldn’t, his own mistakes weighing heavily on him.

Remus carried guilt like a second skin — for the past, for the future, for daring to want happiness in the present, almost as if he didn't deserve his own slice of paradise with his chosen lovers.

And you?

You wanted to belong so badly it hurt. To be seen. To be loved the way you tried to love them, the way you begged for with dead end relationships that had bruised your self esteem years prior.

But love doesn’t need perfection. It just needs choice, and you've made yours.

And every night — every tired morning, every whispered “you okay?” and breathless “yeah, now I am” — you chose each other.

•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•* 

The night everything changed was stupidly normal.

A quiet night. Rain tapping against the windows, silent flashes of lightning creating the mood. The four of you curled up in Sirius’s living room, wrapped in blankets, watching a movie none of you were really paying attention to.

James was dozing off on your shoulder, his hands had found their spots on your stomach under your shirt. Sirius was playing with the hem of your shirt. Remus was reading, but you could feel his thumb tracing slow circles on your ankle.

“I want this forever,” you said suddenly, quietly, almost scared.

The rain paused, like it was listening, the storm giving you your moment.

James lifted his head. Sirius stilled. Remus looked up.

No one spoke.

Then Sirius reached for your hand. “Then have it, dove, we're not stopping you."

Remus nodded. “We already do.”

James leaned in, forehead pressed to yours. “Forever’s not long enough.”

And just like that, it wasn’t a crush anymore.

It was a promise.

•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•* 

Being in love with three people is terrifying. But so is falling out of planes, and you still feel alive doing that, don’t you?

You weren’t traditional, and you were never going to be. Not with them.

There were questions. Eyebrows. Even your mother’s concerned tone: “Three? At the same time? Are you sure, honey?"

But you didn’t need permission, you never needed it before.

Because you had Remus scribbling poems in the corners of your books and chocolate bars magically tucked into your pocket after a hug with him.

You had James dancing with you in grocery aisles and proposing imaginary road trips to nowhere, the spark in his soul contagious.

You had Sirius picking you flowers from the pavement cracks and kissing your knuckles like it was the first time, every time. 

And most of all?

You had them — three boys who were a little broken, a little brilliant, and entirely yours.

[marauderstrashh]

Sirens and Stethoscopes

A.N: Fluff dump to apologize for the amount of angst I write, lovelies.

 

The emergency department was always loud. There was the usual buzz of fluorescent lights, the clipped heels of nurses pacing between trauma rooms, and the ever-present beep-beep-beep of monitors monitoring everything.

But today? It was the three of them that made it worse — in the best way.

Dr. Lupin, calm and collected in his white coat, was reviewing charts with his signature cup of black coffee in hand. His soft-spoken voice and gentle hands had a way of soothing even the crankiest patients.

 Potter and Black — two of the most chaotic, competent EMTs the city had ever seen — had just wheeled in a patient from a car accident, all adrenaline and banter, rattling off chart notes as they rolled the bed into one of Dr. Lupins trauma rooms.

And you?

You were the brand-new admin temp in the ER, fresh out of university and completely unprepared for the walking distractions that were those three men.

It was Sirius who noticed you first, unfortunately.

You were organizing intake paperwork at the nurse’s station when he leaned against the counter with a devil-may-care grin, his hair only slightly falling into his face.

“You new here, sweetheart?” he asked, pulling off his gloves with a snap, discarding them into the hazard waste near the nurses station.

You glanced up, trying to look unfazed. “Started yesterday, actually.."

James appeared beside him, sweaty curls falling into his forehead, and flashed a dazzling smile. “We’d remember if we’d seen you.. practically permanent here, us."

Sirius bumped shoulders with him. “Speak for yourself. I remember everything. Especially beautiful things.”

You blinked. Were they flirting with you? At work? Together?

Then Dr. Lupin walked by, glanced at the three of you, and gave a low sigh — fond, not annoyed. “Sirius, James. Please stop harassing the new staff. We don’t need another HR meeting, remember the last one..?"

“But she smiled at us!” James protested.

“She smiles at everyone, James,” Remus said smoothly, barely hiding his smile. “That’s called being polite.”

You caught Dr. Lupin’s eye. He looked at you, really looked, and in that quiet moment, something tugged in your chest. He nodded politely and kept walking.

You definitely didn’t turn to fan your face.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　　˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　　˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　　˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊ It didn’t stop there.

Over the next few weeks, it became routine.

Sirius would bring you coffee with exactly three pumps of caramel because “he had a hunch.” You never told him he was right as to not feed his ego.

James would stop by the front desk just to make you laugh, usually with some absurd story about a patient who tried to flirt with him mid-seizure. (“I was flattered and alarmed.”)

Remus was more subtle. He’d check in on you with soft questions: “Are they overwhelming you yet?” “Do you need a break?” “How are you adjusting?” Every time, his kindness left your chest aching in the best way.

They worked together like a well-oiled machine, and though they had very different energies — Sirius, wild and magnetic; James, golden retriever charm; Remus, thoughtful and grounded — there was a warmth between them you couldn’t miss. They touched casually, bantered constantly, and shared quiet looks like there was a whole story you weren’t in on.

You weren’t dumb. At least you think you're not.

You realized quickly: they weren’t just coworkers. They were a thing — a beautifully chaotic, somehow functional polycule.

So you kept your crush to yourself, nursing it quietly. They were clearly happy together. Why would they ever—

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　　˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　　˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　　˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

“Hey, love.”

You turned around to find Sirius again, leaning against the doorframe of the breakroom. He seemingly caught you in your spiral.

“We’re heading out for drinks. You should come.”

You blinked. “Like… with all of you?”

James appeared behind him, already holding an extra jacket. “Please come. It’s Remus’s night off. He’s way more relaxed when you’re around.”

You frowned. “I’m just a temp—”

“You’re you, love.” Sirius interrupted, as if that settled it.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　　˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　　˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　　˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊ The bar was dimly lit, all exposed brick and soft music. You expected chaos, but instead, it was… lovely. James laughed too loud at your jokes. Sirius ordered you your favorite drink before you said a word. Remus sat beside you, knees brushing, listening like every word you said was worth remembering.

At one point, you went to the bathroom just to breathe.

And when you came back, you overheard Sirius whisper, “She’s so sweet, I’m gonna die..”

James replied, “She smells like vanilla and cinnamon, Moony... and she's so fuckin' pretty..”

Remus sighed. “Both of you are idiots. But yes. I like her too.”

You stopped short, the shock of their confessions amongst each other keeping you pinned to your place for a moment.

Oh.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　　˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　　˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　　˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊ They didn’t bring it up that night. Or the next week. The days dragging on as the busy season hit the ER.

Instead, they just kept being there.

Sirius offered to walk you home when your shift ended late. James left handwritten jokes in your locker, most of them being god awful dad jokes. Remus stayed behind after a resus code just to sit with you while you processed the way it went down.

Then one rainy Tuesday, they all showed up at your door with takeout and tired eyes, their shoulders heavy with the days events.

“We had a long day,” James said, flopping dramatically onto your couch.

“But we missed you,” Sirius added, dropping his head in your lap.

Remus stood in the doorway, hesitant. “We can leave if this is too much.”

You smiled — a little scared, a little thrilled.

“No. It's okay, Remus. Sit down.."

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　　˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　　˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　　˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊ Dating three people is a lot. Dating three people who work in emergency medicine is insane. But they made it easy, their years of being together the practice they needed in making it work.

Remus would leave you sweet texts like “Home in 20. You were on my mind all day.”

James would show up with your favorite snacks after a rough shift and press kisses into your forehead like it was his job.

Sirius would charm the hell out of you just to hear you laugh — then quietly fold your laundry while blasting Bowie.

They loved you differently — but never in halves. They were already each other’s, and they made room for you in the middle.

And every night, when they collapsed around you on the couch, tucking you between strong arms and sleep-soft kisses, you knew one thing for sure:

You didn’t fall in love with your superior and two EMT's.

You fell in love with them — all of them.

And they, very much, fell right back for the ER Temp who had a pretty smile and soft heart.

[marauderstrashh]

Moony, Prongs, Padfoot, and Her.

It all started in the Gryffindor common room during the winter holidays of sixth year.

Most students had gone home for the break, but a small group remained behind — including Remus Lupin, James Potter, Sirius Black, and her. She had planned to enjoy the quiet, read by the fireplace, and maybe get a bit of homework done (emphasis on maybe). What she hadn’t expected was to become the center of the most unexpected polyamorous love story Hogwarts had ever seen.

She was curled up in her favorite oversized jumper, reading a tattered copy of Hogwarts: A History — a guilty pleasure — when Sirius flopped beside her on the couch like a dog claiming its spot. He had reached out to tap at her knee for his share of the attention.

“Reading again?” he teased, eyes twinkling. “We really must be boring company.”

“You’re always company,” she said without looking up, “but rarely quiet, Siri.."

Remus chuckled from his chair nearby, a book in his own lap. “Touché.”

James walked in seconds later, his wild hair dusted with snow, Quidditch broom over his shoulder. “Sweetheart, I’ve got cocoa from the kitchens! And stolen biscuits! And a brilliant idea!”

All three boys gathered around her as James explained his plan to build a “fort of dreams” in the common room — a blanket-and-cushion monstrosity that would make even the house-elves proud. She was skeptical at first, but Sirius had already started dragging cushions. And when Remus offered his hand with a warm smile and a “Come on, dove, indulge us,” she couldn’t say no.

That night, she curled up in the fort, sandwiched between Sirius and James, while Remus read aloud from a book he claimed was “just academic but mildly cursed.” It was warm, and silly, and felt so much like home that she didn’t question the tangle of limbs or the flutter in her chest when Sirius tucked her hair behind her ear or when James planted a featherlight kiss to the top of her head.

⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑⭑*•̩̩͙ It started small — moments that seemed to mean more than they should.

James offered her his scarf and jumper on windy days, then never asked for it back. Sirius began doodling her initials next to little hearts in the margins of his homework, often scolded for it by whichever professor had given the work. Remus always saved her a seat beside him in the library and brought her tea without asking, made to perfection.

At first, she thought they were just being affectionate. The Marauders were close like that, they had always been very sweet to her. But then there was the night she found a folded note under her pillow with three familiar signatures and a simple question:

“Would you fancy going on a date with us? All of us. Like, together. We know it’s mad, but we think you’re magic — and not just the Hogwarts kind. Love, Remus (Signed with lovely handwriting), Sirius (Signed with the Canis Major), James (Signed with a attempt at a neat heart).”

She read it three times before laughing, pressing it to her chest, and whispering “Yes” into the quiet room.

⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑⭑*•̩̩͙ Dating three boys — especially those three — was never going to be normal.

They made a spectacle of everything. James insisted on walking her to class every day with exaggerated chivalry, bowing and announcing, “Make way! She’s taken!” Sirius declared Wednesdays “Official Picnic Days,” where they would sneak into the Astronomy Tower with pastries and snogging. Remus, sweet and steady, kept things grounded — late-night study dates, forehead kisses, long hugs when she felt overwhelmed.

Some days, it felt like too much, their personalities all together creating the type of noise that would cause panic. Other days, it felt like the whole world was humming in tune.

They had arguments, Sirius could be dramatic, James could get jealous and grouchy, and Remus had a tendency to internalize everything, every single problem he had. But they talked, and listened, and tried. And she loved them — all of them — not in halves or pieces, but wholly and wildly and honestly.

⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑⭑*•̩̩͙ One summer day after graduation, the four of them lay on the grass near the Black Lake, limbs tangled like always. James was telling a story with his hand moving about in the air above himself (probably exaggerated), Sirius was laughing so hard he nearly fell into the water, and Remus was playing with her fingers absentmindedly,, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

“I used to think love had to be a neat little box,” she murmured, sitting up slightly.

Remus looked over, curious. “And now?”

She smiled, glancing at the three of them. “Now I know it’s more like this. Messy. Strange. Completely unconventional. But… it feels right.”

Sirius sat up, grinning. “You’re stuck with us, then.”

“Tragically,” she sighed. "And forever." Remus sighed

James kissed her cheek. “Best tragedy ever.”

⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑⭑*•̩̩͙ Years later, she would remember those days as some of the happiest — full of chaos, charm, stolen kisses, and a love that refused to fit in any mold. The note they had tucked under her pillow still in decent condition as she would pull it out of its designated book every now and then.

They weren’t perfect. But together, they were magic.

And that was more than enough.

[marauderstrashh]

Broken Glass, Beating Heart.

Little bit of a warning on this one, babes. Pretty angsty, sorry.

 You hadn’t even seen the other car.

One moment, the sky was pale with early morning light and the hum of the radio filled the air as you drove to work. The next, everything was noise—metal screaming, glass shattering, your body flung sideways in an explosion of force and agony.

Time didn’t just slow—it cracked apart entirely.

When your car came to rest, crushed against a concrete barrier, you were pinned in place, upside down, blood dripping into your eyes, lungs struggling to expand beneath shattered ribs. You didn’t know it then, but your spleen was ruptured. Your femur had snapped like dry wood. Blood was pooling inside your abdomen, and your heart was already beginning to race against the threat of death.

You couldn’t cry out.

But someone had seen, hopefully.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ “Vehicle collision. Single occupant, female, trapped in the car. High-speed impact. No response from inside. Requesting advanced life support and rescue, Possible DOA."

James Potter floored the accelerator, sirens screaming as Sirius Black gripped the dashboard beside him.

“Highway 14. That’s near the old bridge,” Sirius muttered, scanning the dispatch screen. “Roll-over, metal intrusion into the cabin. We might have to extricate.”

James nodded grimly. “We need to be fast, give her enough of a chance to make it through."

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ They arrived to find chaos.

The car was unrecognizable—crushed steel, shattered windows, the engine still smoking faintly. You were hanging upside down, your seatbelt the only thing holding you up, your body limp and twisted in ways it shouldn’t be.

James was out of the rig before the ambulance fully stopped. “We’ve got a live one,” he called. “Still breathing. Barely.”

Sirius grabbed the trauma kit, pushing past firefighters working to stabilize the wreck. Glass crunched underfoot as they reached you.

“Vitals?” Sirius asked, his voice already clipped with professionalism.

“Thready pulse. GCS is six—non-verbal, not obeying commands. She's going fast.”

Your skin was pale, blood blooming through your clothes. Your chest rose in shallow, uneven gasps. James climbed into the mangled cabin through the back window, swiftly placing a c-collar on you before cutting your seatbelt with one swift motion, catching your broken body as it slumped.

“She’s got abdominal distension,” he muttered, pressing down on your stomach. “Possible internal bleeding. We need her in the rig, now.”

The firefighters used the jaws of life to peel back the door. Sirius held pressure on a deep wound at your thigh, already soaked through the gauze, The tourniquet placed but nearly failing at it's intended job.

“She’s going to arrest before we hit the ER,” Sirius warned.

“Comforting, Padfoot,” James said. “Package her up. Lets Move.”

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ In the ambulance.

They loaded you onto the stretcher, head secured, fluids running through an IO, O2 mask over your nose and mouth, blood had seemingly made it up your throat from them moving you as it crusted around the corners of your mouth.

Your lips had turned blue, your shallow breaths and thready heart taking a toll.

Sirius checked your pulse again—fainter now. He looked at James, and for a long second, neither spoke.

Then your heart stopped.

The monitor flatlined, BP dropping.

“Code!” James shouted.

Sirius leapt into motion, starting chest compressions on the moving rig as James grabbed the scissors to cut away your shirt, grabbing defib pads, slapping them to your chest. The beeping of the monitor turned into a harsh, continuous tone that filled the air like a scream.

“Charging—200 joules. Clear!” Sirius backed off, hands up

Your body arched off the stretcher with the shock. Nothing.

They didn’t stop.

James started bagging, forcing air into your lungs. Sirius pumped your chest like he was willing your heart to beat again.

“Again—300 joules. Clear!”

Another jolt.

Then—

Beep.

A slow, fragile heartbeat returned to the monitor. Weak. But present.

James exhaled, jaw tight. “She’s back.”

Sirius sat back against the wall, sweat shining on his brow. “We are never losing someone this young, not today.”

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ER, St. Mungo’s.

Dr. Remus Lupin was already in trauma bay one when the stretcher crashed through the doors, nurses racing alongside.

“Female, early twenties. High-speed MVC. Code in the rig—resuscitated after two shocks. Internal bleeding, bilateral lung contusions, possible pelvic fracture,” Sirius rattled off.

“She has pulses,” James added, “but she’s circling the drain, Moony...”

Remus looked at you—barely clinging to life, face pale, neck bruised, dressings soaked red and through the white blanket they'd placed over your person to conserve your modesty.

“Get me trauma surgery, crossmatch six units, start the massive transfusion protocol. Get her to CT now if she’s stable. If not, we’re cutting in the OR.”

He glanced at James and Sirius, the barest flicker of personal fear in his eyes—then it vanished, replaced by focus.

“You did good,” he said. “I'll take her from here, get cleaned up.” Remus motioned to their soiled uniforms. ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Hours later.

You survived.

Just barely.

The surgery took five hours—your spleen removed, your internal bleeding staunched, your leg stabilized with pins and a titanium rod. You’d need more surgeries. More time. But your heart beat on its own now. Machines still hissed and beeped around you, but you were breathing without a tube. A win in their eyes.

Remus came to your bedside after the third shift change, just as dusk turned the sky to violet. He stood there for a long moment, watching the quiet miracle of your chest rising and falling. Checking your vitals as if it were his only purpose at the moment.

He set your book—the one found among the wreckage, bent and stained—on the table beside your bed.

“She brought it in with her,” James had said. “Pages were open to a chapter called ‘After the Storm.’ Thought it might mean something to her when she wakes up..." 

Now, it rested like a promise beside you.

Remus sat down, folded your bruised hand gently in his.

“You’re not alone,” he whispered. “You’re here. And you’re not going anywhere.”

Outside the glass, James and Sirius watched through the window, silent as if a vigil were taking place over your still form.

“Close one,” Sirius muttered.

James nodded. “But we brought her back.”

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ You wouldn’t remember the accident at first. But you’d remember the voices. The warmth. The hands that fought for you. The ones that refused to let you go.

You’d live.

And one day—maybe not tomorrow, maybe not next week—you’d be strong enough to turn to the page marked After the Storm and begin again.

Because your story wasn’t over.

[marauderstrashh]

Falling into Them

   It had been a week since (Y/N) fainted in the middle of her work place and woke up in the ER, surrounded by three dangerously charming men—two paramedics, James and Sirius, and one ER doctor, Dr. Lupin. It should’ve been mortifying, but if anything, the memory made her smile whenever it snuck up on her.

Since that unforgettable day, she’d received not one, but three follow-up calls—all strictly "professional," of course. James had called to “check if she was hydrating enough.” Sirius had asked if she needed “hands-on CPR training, just in case.” Remus had left a voicemail saying her bloodwork was normal, “except for elevated levels of irresistible charm.” She had to admit, it was getting hard to tell whether she was recovering from fainting or falling.

Today, though, (Y/N) was walking into the ER on her own two feet. Voluntarily.

She was there to drop off a thank-you basket of homemade cookies and a card for “The Dream Team” as she'd labeled the envelope. As soon as she stepped into the main area, she heard a familiar laugh.

James.

��(Y/N)!” he called out, grinning from ear to ear as he pulled off his gloves and tossed them expertly into a bin. “Back for more rescue attempts?”

Sirius popped up beside him, flipping his dark hair dramatically. “Or did you finally realize you forgot to ask for my number?”

She rolled her eyes, handing over the basket. “These are for you three. I figured it was the least I could do after making such a dramatic entrance last week.”

Remus appeared behind the nurses’ station, raising an eyebrow as he read the card. “‘The Dream Team’... I can’t decide if that’s flattering or ominous.”

“Well, Doctor Lupin,” she teased, “You did tell me I was in good hands.”

“I say we test how good his hands are,” Sirius whispered loudly to James, who elbowed him.

Remus ignored them both. “Actually, (Y/N), since you’re here… how about a quick check-up? Just to be sure there’s no lingering dizziness?”

(Y/N) narrowed her eyes, amused. “Do you always flirt under the guise of medical care?”

He smiled faintly. “Only with patients who bring cookies.”

With an exaggerated sigh and a smirk, she followed him toward an exam room.

James nudged Sirius. “Ten galleons says she gives him her number first.”

Sirius crossed his arms. “Please. I already wrote mine in icing on one of the cookies.”

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧

Inside the exam room, (Y/N) sat on the edge of the bed while Remus took her pulse with a practiced calm.

“So,” he said quietly, not looking up, “between James’s relentless optimism and Sirius’s... dramatic flair, I imagine they’ve both been fighting for your attention.”

“And you?” she asked.

He looked up at her then, eyes warm and unreadable. “I don’t fight for attention, I earn it.”

Her pulse jumped. He noticed. She blushed.

“Well, Doctor Lupin,” she said, hopping off the bed and grabbing her purse, “I think you’ve got a promising diagnosis.”

As she turned to leave, he called after her, “(Y/N)—wait.”

She turned around, eyebrows raised.

He walked up to her slowly, held out a sticky note with something scribbled on it.

“Dinner. With me. Purely for observational follow-up.”

She took it, laughing. “I’ll need a second opinion.”

Just outside the room, Sirius and James leaned casually against the wall.

“Observation?” Sirius muttered. “That’s his move now?”

James grinned. “Looks like we’ve got competition.”

Sirius sighed. “I knew I should’ve added brownies.”

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧

(Y/N) stood outside the cozy bistro Remus had suggested, feeling that odd combination of excitement and nerves that only came before a first date—with a man who had literally seen her unconscious and in a hospital gown. The breeze caught her hair just as the door opened and Remus stepped out to greet her, looking unfairly handsome in a crisp button-down and a soft smile.

“You’re early,” he said, holding the door open.

“I figured I should try being conscious for this meeting.”

He chuckled. “Always a good start.”

The hostess led them to a quiet corner table. Remus, ever the gentleman, pulled out her chair before taking his own seat. The restaurant had just enough candlelight to blur the lines between professional courtesy and personal interest.

“So,” (Y/N) said as she sipped her wine. “Are you always this smooth, or do you just save the charm for the fainting damsels?”

Remus smirked. “Honestly, I rarely date patients. But you made quite the impression.”

“Was it the graceful collapse or the part where you needed to stitch me back together?”

“Definitely the stitches, obviously.”

They were halfway through their appetizers when Remus glanced over her shoulder, frowning faintly.

“What is it?” she asked, turning.

Sirius Black was standing by the host stand in a leather jacket, looking like he’d just walked off a motorcycle advert. James was behind him in a Henley shirt and a rather nice pair of jeans, whispering animatedly to the hostess. (Y/N)’s eyes widened as the hostess giggled, pointing to the table.

“Oh no.”

Remus sighed, already reaching for his menu like it might shield him. “I was afraid of this.”

James spotted her first. “(Y/N)! Fancy seeing you here!”

Sirius gave a grin so smug it could've had him a acquitted of any crime he could commit. “What a coincidence. We were just… in the area.”

“We live thirty minutes away,” Remus muttered.

Sirius dropped into the seat beside (Y/N), draping his arm around her shoulders, James across from him. “Then it’s fate.”

“Or stalking,” she offered helpfully, but couldn’t keep a straight face.

Remus looked tired. “Do either of you understand the concept of boundaries?”

James leaned in, resting his chin on his hand. “Listen, Moony, you’re the steady, quiet type. Very appealing. But some women like men who can lift them and make them laugh.”

Sirius added, “And some like leather jackets and reckless charm.”

(Y/N) blinked at them. “Are you two seriously crashing this date?”

They answered in perfect unison. “Absolutely.”

"And for the record, reckless charm is usually how someone ends up in Remus's care." She scoffed, sipping at her wine.

Remus turned to (Y/N) with resigned amusement. “Shall we just order them something before they start stealing our bread?”

(Y/N) stifled a laugh and waved over the waiter. “Fine. But if one of you tries to feed me a shrimp, I’m filing a formal complaint.”

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧

An hour later, the table looked like it had been the site of a small party: empty plates, two wine bottles, and one too many jokes about (Y/N)’s fainting spell.

“I’m just saying,” Sirius argued, “I picked up her upper body. James got the legs. That’s textbook team effort, avoiding back injuries an' all."

Remus arched a brow. “And I kept her alive.”

(Y/N) raised her glass. “To the Dream Team.”

They clinked their glasses together.

James grinned. “So, when’s the second date?”

Sirius added, “And who’s invited?”

Remus looked directly at her, tone calm but pointed. “That’s entirely up to  you, dove.”

She smiled, setting down her glass. “I think next time…” Her eyes glinted with mischief. “I might like to be the one doing the rescuing.”

Sirius clutched his chest. “Be still, my heart.”

James sighed. “She’s too good for us.”

Remus leaned in, voice low. “You’ll find she’s just enough for me.”

(Y/N) blushed, hiding her flustered expression behind another drink of wine.

[marauderstrashh]

Biggest shout out to @daydreamandforget for kindly pointing out errors, i work 60+ hours a week and am nearly braindead when I get home to post. Very much adore you, love.

[marauderstrashh]

The Green and The Gray: Moonlight and Introductions

 It was one of those rare Sundays when the castle felt almost too quiet, the air still and the halls echoing with the lazy lull of students not quite ready to begin their homework. Remus sat near the fire in the Gryffindor common room, his legs curled under him, a book in his lap he hadn’t turned a page of in half an hour.

You had seen him limping slightly after the full moon again, but you hadn’t said anything—just pressed a note into his hand, a new kind of tea blend and a soft smile that reminded him he wasn’t as alone as he sometimes felt.

He looked over as James plopped beside him, upside down on the couch in that completely impractical way he loved. Sirius followed, practically draping himself over both of them like a contented cat.

"You’re brooding again," Sirius said, chin on Remus's knee. "That means either a sad poem is coming or you're thinking about her."

Remus didn’t even try to deny it.

James arched a brow. “Is it time?”

Remus hesitated. Then: “Yeah. I think… I’d like you to meet her.”

Sirius shot up dramatically, already excited. “The Slytherin girl with the soft eyes and the sharp tongue?”

“She doesn’t have a sharp tongue.”

James smirked. “Moony, she made Mulciber cry once in Potions. I still think about it when I need cheering up.”

Remus rolled his eyes but didn’t deny it. You were kind, yes, but not soft. You had an armor of your own, forged not from cruelty but from knowing the world expected Slytherins to be cold and proving it wrong on your own terms.

“She’s important to me,” Remus said, quieter now. “And I want her to know all of me. That includes… us.”

Both James and Sirius sobered at that. Sirius reached over, gripping Remus’s hand briefly. “We trust your gut, Moony. If she’s earned your heart, she’s earned ours too.”

So when you got the owl inviting you to meet him near the abandoned greenhouses that evening, you came, not sure what to expect—but knowing enough to bring that strange tea he liked.

You found Remus waiting with two other boys, both in Gryffindor robes and both watching you with a mix of curiosity and… warmth. Not the wary judgment you were used to when stepping outside of Slytherin territory.

“Y/N,” Remus said, a little nervously. “This is James Potter and Sirius Black. My—well, they’re—”

“Hi,” Sirius cut in with a grin. “We’re Remus's boyfriends.”

James elbowed him. “What Sirius means is—we’re all together. The three of us. It’s… complicated, but it’s real.”

You blinked once. Then twice. Then looked at Remus.

“You really are surrounded by absolute chaos, aren’t you?”

He gave you a sheepish smile. “It’s manageable chaos.”

Sirius tilted his head. “And you’re the mysterious Slytherin who knows how to make tea strong enough to revive a werewolf and kind enough not to flinch when you figured it out.”

James watched you with curiosity. “So. You’re okay with this? With him being… with us?”

You nodded slowly. “If it makes him happy, then yes. Completely. Besides, I’ve suspected you were all tragically entangled since fourth year. Glad to see I was right.”

There was a beat of silence, and then Sirius let out a bark of laughter. “She’s perfect. Moony, you’ve been holding out on us.”

Remus smiled—not his usual, polite half-smile, but a real one, the kind that crinkled his tired eyes and softened his whole face. He looked at you like you’d just fit another piece into the puzzle he hadn’t realized was missing something.

James raised a friendly fist like a toast. “To new connections.”

“And weirdly functional emotional support polycules,” Sirius added.

You smiled as you tapped your own hand against theirs. “To being seen—and accepted.”

That night, as you walked back to your common room under a moonless sky, your hand brushed Remus’s, and he took it without hesitation, entwining your fingers in his own. You had entered his world—flaws, love, full moons and all—and you hadn’t run.

And for the first time in a long while, he didn’t feel like a monster in the dark.

He felt whole.

✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍⊶⊷⊶⊷✶✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍⊶⊷⊶⊷✶✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍⊶⊷⊶⊷✶

(Y/N) had joined the boys in the greenhouse next day, classes forgotten as they skipped under the guise of study. Her legs draped over Remus's as James sat behind her, supporting her upper body. Sirius sat on a pillow in front of the conjured loveseat they shared, all of them enjoying tea (Y/N) had brewed in an attempt to teach James.

The tea was nearly gone, cups long emptied next to everyone as they sat in a loose circle on the stone floor, near the overgrown greenhouse. The creeping ivy on the glass shimmered in the low torchlight, leaves pressed like memories against the panes.

James had started telling some absurd story about a Quidditch mishap and a rogue Bludger that had nearly taken off his ear. Sirius kept interrupting with “minor” embellishments—like how he’d leapt heroically in front of James to save him, only to get flattened. You listened, bemused, and Remus watched you with quiet awe as you laughed—really laughed—with them. Not as an outsider being entertained, but like someone who belonged.

It struck him then, like a soft ache in the chest: you fit, here with him and his loves.

Even here, in the sacred and messy closeness of their triad, where every glance meant more than it said and love stretched across multiple directions like golden thread—you fit. Not just because you understood him. But because you brought something new that balanced them all. A kind of calm they hadn’t known they were missing.

You met each of them not with suspicion or possessiveness, but openness. Like there was room in your world, too. That meant something to all three of them.

When the conversation slowed, the warmth of shared laughter lingering in the space between you, Sirius tilted his head at you again, studying.

“You know,” he said casually, “if Remus hadn’t already claimed you, I’d be wildly in love with you.”

“Please,” you replied, without missing a beat. “You fall in love with your own reflection, given the chance.”

“I have impeccable taste,” he said, dramatically flipping his hair.

James groaned. “I’m surrounded by narcissists.”

“Tragic for you,” you said dryly. “But you seem to be coping.”

Remus didn’t say much. He didn’t need to. His hand found yours again in the quiet moment after the laughter faded, fingers curling with a kind of reverence. When you glanced at him, he didn’t look away. Just held your gaze, full of unspoken things. Promises of forever with his polycule and perhaps a nice little house somewhere on a hill.

He squeezed your hand once.

Thank you.

For not flinching. For not turning away. For being exactly who you were, when he hadn’t even known he needed it.

You squeezed back. I’m not going anywhere.

Eventually, James stood, stretching like a cat. “Alright, lovebirds and wolves, we should head back. Filch has probably set traps by now, knowing him and his temper.”

You stood as well, brushing off your robes. Remus lingered, then walked with you a little further than the others, toward the point where your paths split between dungeons and towers.

You paused beneath the old clock archway, where the lanterns hummed quietly and cast golden halos over the floor, the stars above the castle creating a romantic ambiance.

“I know tonight was a lot,” he said softly. “I just wanted you to know everything. All of me.”

You stepped closer, close enough to feel the tension in his shoulders, the nerves in his breath. You reached up and touched his cheek gently, thumb brushing just beneath the hollow of his eye.

“I’ve seen all of you, Remus,” you whispered. “Even the parts you’re scared of. And I’m still here.”

He leaned into your touch, eyes fluttering closed. When he opened them again, they were warmer than the firelight behind the glass.

And then, with no fanfare, no hesitation, he kissed you. Gentle, certain, like exhaling a secret he no longer had to carry.

It wasn’t a question. It was an answer.

When you finally parted, you smiled and whispered, “Goodnight, Moony.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

And he watched you go, your figure disappearing down the corridor, and for the first time in his life, he didn’t feel like he was hiding behind anyone else’s shadow.

He felt seen. He felt chosen. He felt loved.

Remus turned to head back to the tower, noticing Sirius and James grinning like children in a candy shop as they had witnessed the moment between you and him. James happily planting a peck on Remus's lips as Sirius grabbed his hand, kissing his knuckles as the three returned to their dorm for the night.

[marauderstrashh]

The Green and The Gray

Hogwarts in autumn always smelled of burning wood and old parchment, the wind whistling through the stone corridors like a song only the castle knew. Remus Lupin always found it comforting in a melancholic sort of way—like a friend who never expected you to smile, just let you sit beside them in the silence, or like a hug you could melt into should you need it.

He was sitting in the courtyard between classes, a book in his lap, though he wasn’t really reading. The ink had blurred into meaningless patterns. His mind was a million miles away, or more accurately, a few nights ahead—when the moon would rise full and cold and silver.

“Do you always read upside down?” a voice asked lightly.

Remus blinked and looked up. You stood across from him, arms crossed over your green-trimmed robes, one eyebrow slightly raised. Slytherin. Not the type to approach him, typically—not unless it was to ask for notes or make a thinly veiled jab about his tired eyes.

He glanced down. The book was upside down.

“Apparently I do,” he said, a bit sheepishly, brushing his thumb along the spine to look casual.

You smiled—not mockingly. Just soft and warm and amused. “I won’t tell. Might ruin your reputation as the quiet genius.”

Then, without asking, you sat down beside him. Remus stiffened a little, unused to being approached this way. Most people didn’t sit next to Remus Lupin. They sat next to Sirius, loud and golden, or James, always grinning like the world was a game and he’d already won.

But you didn’t flinch. Didn’t glance sideways as if wondering who might see. Just sat, your skirt brushing the edge of his robe, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“I’ve seen you out here a lot,” you said after a pause, your voice gentle, more observation than intrusion. “You never really talk to anyone unless they talk to you first.”

He shrugged. “I suppose I like the quiet.”

You tilted your head, looking at him closely. “You look tired.”

His body tensed. The words landed like a small weight in his chest. His guard went up—slowly, instinctively. Like a drawbridge creaking into place over murky water.

“I’m not accusing,” you said quickly. “Just… noticing. You always look tired right around the full moon.”

That froze him more effectively than any hex.

His eyes flicked to you, wary. But you didn’t press. You didn’t stare at him like you were trying to uncover some grand mystery. You simply looked at him the way one might regard a piece of music you didn’t fully understand—but still appreciated.

“You’re not going to ask?” he asked eventually, his voice rough around the edges.

“I don’t need to.”

It was simple. No judgment, no curiosity edged with fear. Just quiet understanding. You weren’t treating him like a riddle to solve, but like a person. A boy who carried too much in his eyes and not enough sleep in his bones.

Silence followed—but not the kind that demands filling. A soft, breathing sort of silence. The kind Remus wasn’t used to, but didn’t mind sitting in.

After a moment, you reached into your satchel and pulled out a small tin. “My mum’s a Healer. She sends these when she knows I’m stressed. Calming sweets. They help with headaches… and nerves. They don’t taste terrible, I promise.. Though if you don't particularly fancy licorice flavor then don't eat the black ones."

You handed one to him with no ceremony, no fuss. Like he was already someone you trusted.

He took it slowly. “Thank you.”

“No problem.” You leaned back against the bench, looking up at the sky. “I think people get you wrong, you know? They look at the company you keep and assume you’re just the quiet one of the troublemakers. But you’re a lot more than that.”

He didn’t know what to say. Sirius would’ve had something witty. James would’ve cracked a joke. But Remus? Remus just looked at you, wondering how you’d seen it so clearly.

You didn’t expect a response. You just let the silence stretch between you like a bridge rather than a wall.

After that day, you started to show up more.

In corners of the library where the dust never quite settled, at the edge of the Black Lake where the wind tasted like October. Sometimes you talked, sometimes you didn’t. You would slide into a seat beside him like it was always meant to be yours.

You never asked about the dark circles under his eyes, or the faint limp he walked with once a month. You didn’t ask why he flinched at sudden sounds or why his fingers sometimes trembled when he thought no one was watching.

Instead, you offered him pieces of quiet humanity—a warm cup of something spiced, the exact kind of chocolate he liked, a transfigured scarf when he forgot his, notes from his missed classes, or simply your silent presence.

He learned that you were the kind of Slytherin people forgot to write about—the kind who led not with ambition, but with quiet integrity. The kind who stayed behind after duels to pick up scattered quills and helped first years find their way without asking for thanks.

You didn’t shine in the way Sirius or James did. But you glowed—soft and steady, like the often sought out stars in the sky when the moon was just high enough.

And Remus found himself drawn to it more and more, the pull of an addicting person who made themselves into your safe space.

One night, after a particularly brutal transformation, he limped into class three days later with his sleeves rolled down, collar high, and voice quiet. The Marauders hovered protectively near him, but his eyes scanned the room until they landed on you.

You didn’t rush to his side or throw him a concerned look in front of everyone.

Instead, later, tucked inside the worn pages of his Charms book, he found a folded piece of parchment in your handwriting.

The moon always wanes, Remus. You don't have to suffer alone. I'm here when you're ready. – Y/N

He stared at the note for a long time, fingers ghosting over the words like they might vanish if he held on too tightly.

And then, for the first time in a very long while, Remus Lupin smiled. Not for show. Not because someone expected it. He gently re folded the parchment, tucking it into his pocket.

Because for once, someone had seen him. Not the prefect. Not the werewolf. Not the quiet shadow of his louder friends.

Just Remus.

And somehow, that felt like everything.

[marauderstrashh]

Drafts

My drafts are being emptied as we speak, send me reqs! I'll do my best for you guys!

[marauderstrashh]

Shards and Hearts

It all started with a wine glass and a clumsy cat.

(Y/N) had just moved into her new apartment—a cute second-floor unit in a quiet London neighborhood. It was her first place alone, and after a long day of unpacking, she treated herself to a glass of red wine and some lo-fi music. Her cat, Orion, had other ideas. While darting across the kitchen counter in a frenzy, he knocked over her half-full wine glass, sending it crashing to the tile floor.

"Ori, I swear—" (Y/N) began, only to cut herself off with a sharp gasp as her bare foot landed squarely on a jagged piece of glass.

The pain was immediate and hot, and as she lifted her foot, blood began to pool beneath her.

Panic gripped her chest. She grabbed a towel and pressed it to the wound, hopping to her phone and dialing emergency services with shaking fingers. Her heart was racing—not just from the pain but from the helplessness of the situation.

Fifteen minutes later, there was a knock at the door.

Enter James and Sirius.

Both were in their late twenties, charmingly rugged in their dark-blue paramedic uniforms, and smiling in that “we’ve-seen-worse” kind of way that somehow made everything feel less dire.

"Hi there," James said brightly, kneeling beside her with a warm smile. His glasses were slightly fogged from the cool night air, and his dark hair was fluffy and almost unruly. “You must be (Y/N)?”

"That’s me," she said, wincing as he gently lifted the towel, keeping his expression schooled as he fixed Sirius with a look.

Sirius crouched beside them, a grin tugging at his lips. “Oof. That’s a proper slice, love. You throwin’ a party without us?”

"Just me, wine, and my cat trying to kill me," she quipped.

Sirius barked a laugh. “Ah, attempted feline homicide. Common cause of injury these days.”

Between them, they gently helped her onto the gurney. As they secured her in the back of the ambulance, the teasing continued. James kept asking about her favorite music, trying to distract her. Sirius offered dramatically tragic stories of his own clumsiness, all of which ended with him miraculously escaping injury. (Y/N) couldn’t help but laugh—through the pain, through the nerves—and feel oddly charmed by their ridiculous banter.

At one point, James leaned close and murmured, “If it’s not too forward, I hope your night ends better than it started.”

“And maybe we could help with that,” Sirius added, flashing a grin that could have melted the snow outside.

(Y/N) blinked, momentarily unsure if they were flirting or just incredibly friendly.

But then they shared a look. One of those subtle, loaded looks that said we know what we’re doing. And she was definitely being flirted with.

At the ER, they wheeled her in and handed her over to a young doctor with a gentle expression and kind, amber-flecked eyes. "Miss (Y/N) (L/N), 23, Laceration to the bottom of the foot, no obvious debris from initial assessment, seems to be stage 3 to 4 type of laceration, glass is the cause. Heart rate and BP all within normal range." James said, passing the bed through the trauma room door. 

“Evening,” he said, examining the wound carefully. “I’m Dr. Remus Lupin. Let’s get you stitched up, shall we?”

(Y/N) nodded, though her cheeks were starting to ache from all the grinning. She glanced back at James and Sirius, who were lingering by the door, wincing as Dr. Lupin pushed on the skin around the wound. Dr. Lupin had managed to quickly administer local anesthetic as she looked to the EMT's, (Y/N) only hissing at the sting of the medication.

“You boys gonna hover all night?” Remus asked, not looking up as he cleaned the wound.

“Maybe,” Sirius said. “She’s cute.”

“And brave,” James added, winking.

“Down, lads,” Remus said, finally glancing up and giving her a wink of his own. “She’s already in pain. Don’t make it worse.”

(Y/N) couldn’t help laughing. “Do you all… know each other?”

“Know each other?” Sirius echoed, mock-scandalized. “Darling, we live together.”

James slung an arm around Sirius’s shoulder. “Work together, live together, and sometimes—if Remus ever lets us—share tea together.”

“Sometimes,” Remus said dryly, beginning to stitch with practiced hands. “And only if they behave.”

“So… you’re a… trio?” (Y/N) asked, both fascinated and flustered.

“Polyamorous, yes,” Remus said gently. “Mutual, loving relationship. Though sometimes they act like a pair of teenagers.”

“We’re charming,” Sirius said, flipping his hair.

“Relentlessly,” (Y/N) murmured, watching Remus’s hands work.

He glanced up again, his tone soft. “You’re handling this very well. Most people would be cursing.”

“I’m trying not to pass out, honestly.”

“Fair enough,” he smiled.

As the stitches were finished and the pain dulled to a manageable throb, James reappeared with a bottle of water and a snack.

“You’re officially patched up,” Remus announced. “Try not to step on any more glass.”

“I’ll try to avoid glass-related trauma in the future,” she said, smiling despite herself.

James leaned in, handing her his card with a wink. “If you ever feel the need for drama, though—we’re only a call away.”

Sirius added, “Or if you want to get coffee sometime. Just the four of us.”

Remus chuckled. “Subtle.”

(Y/N) looked between the three of them, then at the card, then back to them.

“…You know, I never say this after needing ten stitches, but… this might’ve been the best night I’ve had in months.”

Sirius grinned. “We’ll take that as a win.”

  And as she was wheeled out to a cab many hours later—wound stitched and missing a shoe, heart unexpectedly light—(Y/N) wondered if maybe stepping on that wine glass had been a strange twist of fate.

Painful, yes. But also possibly the beginning of something… intriguing.

And who knows? Maybe next time, she’d invite the cat, paramedics, and the Doctor.