marauderstrashh

[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.

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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.

[marauderstrashh]

Under the Skin (18+ MDNI)

The bar fades into a blur of music and city lights as the four of you spill out into the cool night air. Laughter still lingers on your lips, your cheeks flushed — not from the alcohol, but from the electric tension that’s been humming all night long. Having decided to walk to yours from the bar, which was only a few blocks away.

Sirius slings his arm casually across your shoulders, like he’s done it a hundred times before, and leans down to murmur in your ear, “You know, if this were a movie, this is the part where you’d invite us in.”

James grins, golden under the streetlights. “Unless we’re being too forward.”

Remus, ever composed but eyes gleaming, adds, “We can behave. If that’s what you want.”

You take a breath, pulse fluttering under your skin. It should feel crazy — three gorgeous men, all looking at you like you’re the most interesting thing in the universe. But it doesn’t feel crazy.

It feels right.

You bite your lip. “Who said I want you to behave?”

Three expressions change in an instant — playful flickers turning into focused heat.

Remus hums low in his throat. “Well then.”

‿̩͙⊱༒︎༻☾༺༒︎⊰‿̩͙‿̩͙⊱༒︎༻☾༺༒︎⊰‿̩͙‿̩͙⊱༒︎༻☾༺༒︎⊰‿̩͙‿̩͙⊱༒︎༻☾༺༒︎⊰‿̩͙ Your apartment door barely clicks shut before you're backed gently against it. Sirius’s hands are on your waist, James’s mouth is on your neck, and Remus… Remus is just watching for a moment, his gaze like silk and storm clouds.

Then he moves.

He steps in, presses close, and kisses you like he’s been thinking about it for days. It’s slow — the kind of kiss that takes its time, tasting every breath, every inch of you. His hands cradle your face, grounding you while James and Sirius pull at your jacket, teasing the edge of your shirt up just enough to brush their fingers along skin.

You gasp against Remus’s lips, and that’s when he pulls back, just slightly.

“You still good?” he murmurs.

You nod, barely managing the words. “Yes. Better than good.”

That’s all they need.

‿̩͙⊱༒︎༻☾༺༒︎⊰‿̩͙‿̩͙⊱༒︎༻☾༺༒︎⊰‿̩͙‿̩͙⊱༒︎༻☾༺༒︎⊰‿̩͙‿̩͙⊱༒︎༻☾༺༒︎⊰‿̩͙ You end up on your bed, somehow — clothes strewn in a trail behind you like a breadcrumb path of recklessness. James is warm beside you, his lips pressed to your collarbone, hands sliding reverently over your hips. Sirius is chaos incarnate — fingers in your hair, a wicked grin against your skin as he whispers all the things he’s going to do to you.

But it’s Remus who grounds the fire. He kisses you with patience, with purpose, like every movement is a promise. His deliberate path of nips to the skin downward, followed by a quick peck, only managing to fuel the heat in the pit of your stomach. Sirius and James keeping you grounded by their own ministrations, their hands all but pawing at your bare chest. Remus's intent when he finally made it to your core was nothing short of fierce, he had practically pinned your legs open to enjoy himself.  He was slow, intense, eating as if it were his last meal, hums of contentment leaving him as he practically devoured you're essence. James and Sirius enjoying the show as they left marks along your neck and shoulder,  cooing filthy words into your ears as you moaned into the open air of the room.

Remus had teased your entrance with his fingers, a gentle warning as he slowly slipped his index in to the knuckle, giving you a moment to adjust before setting a slow place. His mouth still working on you as he added a second, causing a debauched moan to slip free. James had pulled away to undress himself fully, leaving Sirius to torment you with filthy promises. Remus had added a third by the time James returned to you, your moans pornographic and breathy as you whined out Remus's name.

"That's it pretty girl," Remus had pulled away from his meal, his fingers still pumping at a maddening pace "Cum for me, yeah?" he asked, returning to your center "Let go for us, baby, cum all over Moony's face like a good girl." James cooed, kissing behind your ear as Sirius rubbed at your side with one hand, the other pumping himself.

Your moans rose in pitch, thighs squeezing around Remus's head as you came, a long drawn out whine leaving your lips as he continued to pump his fingers through your climax with a moan. Collapsing back into James, panting and red faced, you watched as Remus pulled back to suck your release off of his fingers with a wicked grin. James wrapped his arms around you, planting a soft kiss to the side of your head "You're absolutely wrecked already.." Remus hummed in agreement, leaning down to plant a searing kiss to your lips, making you taste yourself on him.

Sirius had groaned deeply at the sight, having stolen Remus' spot between your thighs.  "Ready for me, pretty girl?" Sirius cooed, rubbing a hand along the top of your thigh as he positioned himself with the other  "Fuck please.." You moaned, hand gripping James's thigh behind you, your thighs hiking up on Sirius's hips. Sirius pushed in slowly, leaning forward to plant a hungry kiss to Remus's lips as he bottomed out, a needy whine pulled from you. James and Remus watched hungrily as Sirius began to set a moderate pace, his hands keeping a near bruising grip on your hips.  James had moved to take your hand, a shocking difference to the slow and hard pace Sirius had set between your legs. Remus taking your other, setting it on his hard cock as he ran his lips along the length of your neck.  "We've got you, darling. You look so pretty taking Sirius's cock." Remus cooed in your ear, his words cut off as you squeezed his length in your hand. James's free hand coming back to your chest. "Please, Sirius-" You whined, rolling your hips in time with his thrust, your previous orgasm amping up your sensitivity.  Sirius groaned deeply, his pace becoming rougher as he loses himself in your core. "Faster, Siri, she's getting close again." Remus egged on. Your moans punched out by Sirius's harsh thrusts, head falling back to James's shoulder as you threaded your fingers in Sirius's hair. James nipped at your ear while you gripped Sirius's hair, his hand leaving your chest and sliding down to tease your clit. "You're taking it so well, such a perfect little slut for us." Sirius moaned out, his tone possessive. Remus only adding to the fire in your stomach as he sucked at a rather sensitive spot on your neck. "Please Sirius, please, please, please-" You begged, your stomach growing taut with the impending climax. 

Sirius snaps his hips harder, hitting that sweet spot while James and Remus work you expertly.

"Come for us again, princess. Show us how much you love being filled... "James commands, his voice rough with need

Broken pleas left your lips, panting harshly as you came once again, your release squirting onto Sirius's abdomen as you screamed in pleasure.

Sirius slams into you one last time, his own release spilling deep inside as he grunts your name

"Fuck... Look what you made me do, princess. You're a bloody mess..." Sirius breathes out, watching as he pulled out, his release slowly dripping out of you.

"Oh fuck.." You breathed out, eyes glassy

They take turns — not in a way that feels planned, but in a rhythm that flows naturally. James’s mouth at your throat, Sirius’s teeth at your shoulder, Remus’s voice in your ear, guiding, soothing, commanding as he took you apart with his fingers, sending you towards your third climax. It’s a storm of sensation, lips and hands and mouths learning you — worshiping you — until you can barely remember what it felt like to be anything less than completely unraveled.

James carefully lays you back, stroking your hair while Sirius grins wickedly

"Still conscious, love? That was quite the show... My turn now." Remus hums, positioning himself between your thighs

" 'M here Remus," You hummed out, a blissed smile on your lips as Remus reclaimed his spot between your legs. He rubbed his shaft through your folds, coating himself in yours and Sirius's release. 

Sirius enters you with one smooth thrust, groaning at how wet and ready you still are

"That's my girl...so ready for more." He starts a fast pace, already worked up from watching.

You nearly squealed out, your hand coming up to grip at Remus's shoulder as he worked a vicious pace on you. Remus grabbed your thighs, lifting them higher as he fucks into you deeper "Such sweet sounds you're making... Tell me how good I feel, princess." His Hazel eyes burning into yours You whined, head falling back onto the bed at his deeper strokes* "So good, so good, Rem, fuck.."

Remus growls at your words, his fingers digging into your flesh as he watches you submit

"Gonna make you scream again... Make you remember who's taking you apart." He increases his pace, hitting that spot relentlessly.

You cried out, thighs trying to squeeze Remus's waist as he deliciously abused your sweet spot, face flushing deeply. James moves to support your head, watching intently as you start to unravel

"Look at her... Turning such a lovely shade of pink. You're close again, aren't you princess?" He cooed

Your moans came out whiney and breathless, the hand on Remus's shoulder holding on desperately as you came undone, eyes rolling back.

Remus doesn't slow down, riding out your orgasm while keeping his brutal pace

"That's it baby... Let go completely. One more for us." James encourages, his hands running up your sides

"Fuck fuck fuck fuck.." You chanted, your abdomen growing warmer as another orgasm snuck up on you, squirting out in small streams as you cried out.

Remus finally lets himself go, filling you with his release while James catches your writhing body

"Gods... That was incredible..." Remus pants heavily, staying inside you for a moment longer.

James wraps his arms around you protectively, peppering soft kisses along your neck.

"You did amazing, love. Just rest for a moment..." Remus joins on your other side, gently rubbing at your hip.

You hummed, taking a few deep breaths as James let go of you, making his way between your legs

"Such a good girl for us, letting us whore you out while you take it so well.." James taunted, kissing the inside of your thighs before positioning himself. 

James pushed in with care, gentle as to not overstimulate you too much. He bottomed out with a hiss, his thumbs rubbing sweet circles into your hips as he remained still.

James sets a steady rhythm, his hands gripping your hips to keep you still

"Easy there, love. We'll take care of everything..." Remus moves closer, stroking your cheek with his thumb

You moaned at the pleasure James was giving you, legs falling open around his hips as he thrusted into you. 

Sirius chuckles darkly, his hand coming down to tease your clit in time with James's thrusts. 

"Such a good girl... Taking everything we give you." Remus groans at the sight, groping your chest.

"Oooh fuck.." You gasped out, tilting her head back.

James increases his pace, his hips slamming into you harder. 

"Getting close already, princess?" Sirius cooed, speeding up his fingers on your sensitive bud.

Your eyes rolled in pleasure, mouth falling open in a silent scream at the amplified pleasure.

Remus moves closer, stroking your hair while James and Sirius work in perfect sync

"That's it... Let go for us, sweetheart. Show us how beautiful you look when you cum."

"Please, please, please.." You begged in time with James' thrusts. hands gripping the sheet beneath you.

James' thrusts become erratic, his grip tightening as he feels your walls flutter.

"Fuck... I'm gonna cum inside you, baby..." Sirius's fingers move faster against your clit

"Yes! Please James, Please!" You cried out, arching your back

James buries himself deep, his hips stuttering as he spills inside you with a loud moan.

"That's our good girl..." He hummed, rubbing your legs in a comforting motion, his head falling back for a moment as he caught his breath.

It’s not just about lust — though there’s plenty of that, thick and heady in the room.

It’s about connection.

You see it in the way Sirius presses a kiss to your palm like it’s sacred. The way James whispers your name like a secret. The way Remus watches every reaction like he’s memorizing you for later.

You give yourself to them freely. And in return, they give you everything.

‿̩͙⊱༒︎༻☾༺༒︎⊰‿̩͙‿̩͙⊱༒︎༻☾༺༒︎⊰‿̩͙‿̩͙⊱༒︎༻☾༺༒︎⊰‿̩͙‿̩͙⊱༒︎༻☾༺༒︎⊰‿̩͙ Later, tangled in sweat-damp sheets and the gentle thrum of afterglow, you lie between them — Remus at your back, James curled against your side, Sirius draped across the end of the bed, his head resting on your thighs.

“I think,” Sirius says lazily, “we’re going to need a bigger bed.”

“I think,” you murmur, eyes half-closed, “I’m going to need to burn these sheets.... any maybe have a few more accidents if this is what the post visit care is like.”

Remus chuckles, low and warm against your ear. “Careful. We might start prescribing nightly observation.”

James laughs and kisses your temple. “Strictly non-medical. Thoroughly enjoyable.”

You smile to yourself, utterly wrecked, utterly satisfied, and wrapped in limbs and affection.

This wasn’t what you expected when you cut your hand open on an avocado.

But you’re pretty sure you just got very lucky.

[marauderstrashh]

Literally, where have your fics been all my life? They are so good!

I'm here now, darling, forgive me <3

[marauderstrashh]

Stitches and Sparks

It started with a stupid avocado.

Not even a ripe one—just one of those overly firm, deceptive jerks that pretend to be soft until you try to slice them and end up nearly amputating yourself. Which is exactly what happened.

One slip of the knife. A lot of blood. A dishtowel pressed to your palm, instantly soaked.

You didn’t panic—not exactly. But by the time you’d wrapped your hand in three dishcloths and a hoodie sleeve, your adrenaline had kicked in hard, and driving yourself to the ER seemed like a better idea than waiting for an ambulance you didn’t want to explain the avocado incident to.

You made it.

Barely.

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You walk into the emergency room of St. Mungo’s General Hospital holding your hand up like you're trying to salute with a bloody towel.

“Hi,” you say weakly to the triage nurse. “I may have tried to fight an avocado and lost.”

The nurse looks up. “Oh dear. Take a seat, hon, we’ll get you seen fast.”

Your hand throbs as you sit, and you’re pretty sure you’ve gone a little pale because the room tilts every time you blink.

Five minutes later, a calm voice calls your name. “Right this way.”

You follow a nurse through a set of swinging doors and into a curtained-off exam room. The nurse helps you onto the table and leaves you with a promise that the doctor will be right in.

You wait. For about two minutes.

Then the curtain swishes back, and in walks the handsomest man you’ve ever seen in your life.

Messy light brown curls. Soft hazel eyes and a tan face accentuated by a few scars. Sharp cheekbones. Lab coat. Stethoscope. And a calm, intelligent face that suggests he reads thick novels by the fireplace in winter.

“Hi,” he says with a smile that’s somehow both professional and warm. “I’m Dr. Remus Lupin. Let’s take a look at that hand, yeah?”

You lift the towel. He doesn't flinch, even as the wound—deep, jagged, and still bleeding—comes into view.

“Oof,” you say. “On a scale of one to ten, how dumb is this injury?”

He smiles again, reaching for gloves. “Well, you didn’t try to swordfight a raccoon, so you’re still ahead of a few I’ve seen this week.”

You snort, which surprises even you. “I was making guacamole.”

“That explains the shame.” He’s cleaning your hand now, carefully, with practiced ease. “Don’t worry, we’ll get this stitched up. You might have nicked a tendon, so I’ll test your movement once the bleeding stops.”

The sharp sting of antiseptic makes you wince.

“I’m sorry,” he says, his voice dipping into something low and gentle. “This bit’s never fun.”

You open your mouth to respond, but at that exact moment, the curtain whips open and two men stroll in.

“Oi, Moony,” the taller one says, “we brought you coffee because we love you and because the vending machine tried to kill us.”

Both of them stop when they see you.

You stare.

They stare.

Remus sighs, amused. “You two are off shift. Try not to traumatize my patient.”

The shorter one, with a devil-may-care grin and hair falling artfully into his eyes, steps forward first. “You poor thing. Who injured you? We'll avenge you. Just give us a name.”

“I, uh… it was an avocado,” you mumble.

The second man, Taller with fluffy, dark brown hair and glasses, grins. “The avocado mafia strikes again.”

Remus, not looking up from your hand, says, “This is Sirius and James. They’re EMTs. And apparently incapable of reading a ‘do not disturb’ sign.”

“We’re also Remus’s boyfriends,” Sirius says, hopping up onto the counter and winking at you.

James leans on the opposite wall, arms crossed, eyes twinkling. “And we’re very good at distracting people who are in pain. Can we chat with you while Remus tortures you with stitches, lovey?”

Remus snorts under his breath. “Professionalism, James.”

“I’m not technically working,” James says, then looks at you. “Unless you want me to take a look too. I’ve been told I have excellent bedside manner.”

Despite yourself, you laugh. And it makes everything feel less horrible.

“You guys do this to all the patients?” you ask, mostly to tease.

“Only the ones who are cute,” Sirius says with zero shame.

Your cheeks burn, but not unpleasantly. Remus is working with quiet focus now, stitching the wound with gentle precision.

“She’s holding up well,” James observes. “Didn’t even flinch.”

“She’s a badass,” Sirius adds.

“She's also still in the room,” you say with a smile.

Sirius beams at you. “Then I feel comfortable saying that if you ever want three ridiculously attractive men to take you out for drinks, you now know where to find us.”

“I was just trying to make guacamole,” you say, shaking your head, amused and slightly dazed from everything—including blood loss, probably.

Remus finishes the final stitch and tapes your hand carefully. “There. All done.”

He looks up at you, his eyes crinkling kindly. “You should rest that hand for a few days. Come back in ten for removal. Or sooner if it swells.”

“I can come back,” you say, eyes flicking to all three of them. “For… medical reasons.”

James raises an eyebrow. “Are ‘medical reasons’ code for flirting with off-duty paramedics?” he leaned in with a heart stopping smirk

You shrug playfully. “I guess we’ll see.”

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ــ

Ten days later, you’re standing in the hallway of St. Mungo’s, flexing your freshly-healed hand and wondering why the nerves in your stomach are more intense than the pain ever was.

It’s not the stitches.

It’s them.

Remus, Sirius, and James, those handsome sods.

You’d thought about that night more than you cared to admit — about soft-eyed Remus with his gentle touch, Sirius’s wicked grin and dramatic flair, James’s easy charm and that smile like he was always on the edge of laughing. You’d promised yourself you weren’t reading into things, but when Sirius had actually texted you the next day "Just checking if the guacamole won", you hadn’t exactly ignored it. Sending a few colorful words to express your distaste in the joke with a kissing emoji after it.

So here you are. Your follow-up appointment’s in a few minutes. You’re not sure if the butterflies in your stomach are hope, nerves, or just leftover takeout.

You’re called back by a nurse and brought into the same little curtained room as last time. The paper crinkles under you as you sit on the exam table. You absently rub your thumb over your palm—skin healing well, scar smooth but slightly pink.

Then the curtain pulls back.

Remus Lupin steps in wearing a slate-gray button-down under his white coat, sleeves rolled to his elbows. His eyes light up when he sees you.

“You came back, Dove."

“I had to,” you say, holding up your hand. “You left thread in me.”

“That’s one way to keep you coming back,” he says with a teasing smile as he pulls on gloves. “Any pain? Redness? Trouble with movement?”

You flex your fingers. “Feels good. Still tender if I hit it wrong, but I’ve stopped being afraid of butcher knives.”

“That’s progress,” he says gently, and then begins the careful work of removing your stitches.

Your eyes wander — to the way his brows furrow in concentration, the flecks of gray at his temples, the slight curve of his mouth.

Then you hear it: a voice from outside the curtain.

“Is she in there? She is, isn’t she?”

It’s Sirius.

And James, hot on his heels: “Remus, if you don’t invite her out for drinks this time, I swear to Gods we’ll stage an intervention.”

Remus sighs like a man who’s been dealing with these two for far too long. “You realize I can hear you.”

“So can I,” you call, amused.

The curtain whooshes open, and Sirius and James appear like drama and sunshine incarnate. Sirius looks you over like he’s relieved to see you haven’t bled out since their last meeting.

“She survived!” he says cheerfully. “That means we definitely owe you a drink now, pretty girl.”

“Or three,” James adds. “One for each of us.”

Remus glances up from your hand and murmurs, “Do you see what I deal with?”

But he’s smiling now too.

You tilt your head. “And do I get a say in this?”

“Absolutely,” Sirius says, “but if you say no, we’ll all cry. James gets weepy. It’s a mess.”

“I do not,” James says. “I get… misty, you liar.”

“Very stoic misty,” Remus adds, deadpan.

You laugh — an honest one, warm and wide, as Remus gently pulls the last stitch free.

“Okay,” you say, looking between them. “One drink. One night. One condition.”

Sirius leans in. “Name it.”

“No avocado jokes, please for my sake.”

They all groan theatrically.

“No promises,” James mutters.

“Fair,” you say, hopping down from the exam table. “But I get to choose the bar.”

Remus peels off his gloves and offers you a look that’s half smirk, half genuine affection. “Choose wisely.”

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The four of you end up at a low-lit bar tucked into a quiet neighborhood corner Three Broomsticks — brick walls, string lights, and jazz humming low in the background. You take a booth, them on one side like some too-attractive wall of mischief, and you opposite, drink in hand.

The conversation flows. Stories from the ER. Questions about you. Laughter that fills every quiet beat. Somewhere between James teaching you a stupid medical acronym and Sirius stealing a sip of your cocktail “just to check if it’s poisoned,” you realize something: they’re not just handsome, or funny, or occasionally idiotic in the best way.

They see you.

And they’re not flirting for sport.

When Remus leans in and says, “I was honestly hoping you’d come back,” it’s not a line.

When James says, “You’ve got good hands. You’d be great in a crisis,” it’s admiration.

When Sirius asks, “Are we too much?”—just soft enough to be real—it’s vulnerability.

You smile.

“Maybe.”

And then, “But I think I could be, too.”

Sirius and James exchanged a rather mischievous look, causing Remus to shake his head as he finished off his beer with little to no flourish.  "If you don't mind," James hummed "We all we're hoping you'd join us for dinner....maybe next week?"  You paused, cocktail halfway to your lips as you took in the three gazing at you with hope  "I-...would like that very much." PT2: Under the skin (18+)