#emt!marauders x reader

[moonstruckme]

Poly!EMT!Marauders x reader where they are in an established relationship and she gets really hurt… I’m a slut for hurt/comfort and protective bfs

Thanks for requesting!

cw: bike accident, injuries, concussion

emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.8k words

You don’t remember getting out your phone, but Remus answers on the second ring. 

“Hello?”

“I…um…”

The woman who’d stopped to help eases the phone out of your grasp, putting it to her ear. “Hello?” 

She starts to fill Remus in on what’s happened. A car moved into the bike lane, probably by mistake. They didn’t see you. You’d panicked, throwing yourself away from it and out of the road. You’d hit the ground hard. The car had kept going. You’re not sure you can move. 

Your body, the entire left side, is in agony, stinging and burning and throbbing all at once. The ground is cold, seeping through your clothes. Your head is warm, though. Fuzzy. 

“Dove?” There’s an insistent tapping at your cheek. “Dove, come on, lovely.” 

Your eyelids are impossibly heavy. Something pushes against a sore spot on your head, and a whine escapes you. 

“There you go, just open your eyes.” Remus’ face is in front of yours, his eyes flitting between your eyes and something else. “Good job. I need you to stay awake for me, okay?” 

You make a sound somewhere between a hum and a moan. 

“Do you know where you are?” 

You squint up at him. The sun filters through your boyfriend’s hair like a halo. “A car almost hit me.” 

Remus’ eyebrows draw further together. “I heard, honey. Can you tell me what day it is?” 

“Mhm.” 

He waits a second. “What day?” 

“What?” 

“It’s Tuesday,” the woman says helpfully. 

Her voice comes from over by the road. You try to turn your head to find her, to say thank you, but Remus stops you with a hand on your jaw. 

“Thank you,” he calls to her. “I’m just testing her for a concussion, though.” 

You think you see him roll his eyes when he turns back towards you. 

“Okay.” He sets a hand on top of your head, warm and weighty and reassuring. You close your eyes, savoring the touch. “Hey, eyes open.” There’s a gentle stroke at your cheek, then a hard tap. You look at him. “Sorry, love, you’ve gotta stay awake. James and Sirius are on their way, okay?” 

“They…” You feel your eyebrows pinch. “They’re at work.” 

“I know. They’re coming in the ambulance, to help.” 

You feel the beginnings of a groggy sort of terror. It chills your blood and clogs your airways. You don’t want to go to the hospital. You want Sirius and James, but you want them to take you home. You want the soft warmth of your bed, not needles and prodding and the harshness of all those sounds and lights.

“Hey,” Remus says. His thumb strokes at your temple. You hear a shrill wailing in the distance, coming towards you. “Hey, look at me—you’re safe, honey.” His eyebrows press close together as he looks into your eyes, imploring. “It’s going to be okay.” 

The ambulance gets there quicker than you can respond, or maybe you just sit in silence until it arrives. Time is moving oddly. Your breath seems to take ages to pass through your lungs, but in a blink Sirius is hopping out of the van, jogging to your side. 

“She’s got a concussion, definitely dislocated shoulder and likely broken wrist,” Remus calls as he approaches. 

“Got it.” Sirius crouches in front of you. “Hello, gorgeous. Rough morning?” 

“A little.” 

He grins, lopsided and a bit strained. “Looks like it. Well don’t worry, our first order of business is getting you on some pain meds.” 

“I don’t want a needle.” 

Sirius’ smile slips a bit. “Sure you do, dollface. Trust me, it’ll help.” 

“You’re going to be in so much less pain with an IV,” Remus reasons, still stroking your hairline. “You won’t even know it’s there.” 

“I don’t…” 

James comes over with a gurney. “How’s our girl doing?”

“Great.” Sirius takes the hand on your uninjured side, giving it a little squeeze. “We’re gonna need a splint and a sling, but she should be okay to move.” 

The boys don’t need much talking to coordinate, and a second later you’re being transferred onto the gurney. Remus and James hold your injured arm tight to your side, and still a muffled groan tears from between your teeth. 

“I know, sweetheart.” James kisses your forehead as they stand the gurney up. “I know, I’m sorry.” 

He’s holding something to your head. You try to look up at it, but you can’t. “What is that?” 

“This? It looks like, uh…a dish towel? Rem?” 

Remus shrugs, crawling up into the ambulance. “I knew she was bleeding, and I took what was on hand.” 

Bleeding. You had been bleeding, you remember. You wonder how much you’d lost. You feel a bit less foggy now, though still a bit dazed. 

“How bad is it?” you ask James quietly. 

“Not bad,” he tells you, looking at you as he says it so you’ll know he’s being honest. He helps Sirius lift you into the ambulance. “You’ll need a couple of stitches, but it won’t be horrid.” 

You must pale at the mention of stitches, because Remus gives you a sympathetic look, pulling on a pair of rubber gloves. “Don’t worry about it right now, dove. I’ll be with you the whole time. I’m not on shift, so I can stay after the boys drop us off.” 

“Fuck that,” Sirius says, lifting the dish towel from your head to get a look at the cut. “I’m staying too.” 

“It’s been a slow day,” James agrees. “If they need us for anything, we’ll go back out.” 

Sirius huffs. “We’ll see.” He presses some gauze over your cut, taping it down. 

James goes to the window at the front, telling the paramedic driving that you’re good to go. You feel something cold on your arm, and look over to see Remus cleaning the crook of your elbow with a wipe just before Sirius blocks your view with his hand. He tilts your head back towards him. 

“Look at me,” he instructs. “You’re okay, baby.” 

You try to look back towards Remus, but Sirius’ hand is firm, keeping you still. 

“Let me tell you what’s going to happen,” he offers. “We’re going to give the pain meds a few minutes to kick in, then put your wrist in a brace. Our best bet for your shoulder is just to keep it still until” —You hiss as you feel the small needle pierce your skin, and Sirius’ brows twitch together commiseratingly—  “It’s okay,” he murmurs. “We’ll keep your shoulder still until we get to the hospital, and there, they’ll set that, stitch your head up, and give you a cast for your wrist. Sound okay, doll?” 

“Yeah,” you manage. 

He presses his lips to your forehead, letting them sit there for a second before pulling away. When he moves his hand, Remus has just finished taping down the IV. 

He runs his thumb over the delicate skin of your forearm fondly. “You’re doing so well, dove.”

“Thanks,” you squeak, and your vision blurs frustratingly. You press your lips together. 

“Hey, what’s up?” James’ tone is light, but you can hear the worry behind it. “Is it the pain?”

You shake your head, closing your eyes as tears slip down your face. You’ve got no good hands to wipe them with, an IV in one arm and the other limp and useless. 

“You’re alright.” Remus rubs your good shoulder. His voice is low and tranquilizing. “Take a breath.” 

“I—I can’t stop.” Your breath comes in embarrassing, ragged gasps. “I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay, it’s okay. You don’t have to be sorry for anything, angel,” James says. “Just breathe.”

You try, filling your lungs as best you can with your eyes still squeezed shut. The hot tears remind you of the feeling of warm blood on your face, and that only makes you cry harder. Remus rubs your shoulder, murmuring quiet assurances. 

After a while, Sirius speaks tentatively. “The meds should be working by now,” he says. “Do you feel any better?” 

You sniff. You hadn’t even noticed the pain fading. “Yeah, I—I think so.” 

“Okay.” He thumbs at your tears almost apologetically. “We’re gonna use this blow-up thingy to stabilize your wrist.” 

“It shouldn’t hurt too badly,” James says, taking your hand in his, “but if it does, just give me a squeeze, okay?” He smiles. “You can break my hand a little if you need to. Then we’ll really be in this together.” 

You do your best to smile back at him. He looks like he appreciates it. 

“Deep breaths,” Remus reminds you as they pump up the splint. 

You tear up again and squeeze the ever-loving shit out of James’ hand, but it’s over quicker than you expected. Sirius kisses your hairline. 

“Now we’re just waiting,” he reassures you. “We can’t do anything else until we get there.” 

You’re relieved. “Hey, what happened to that lady?” 

“Who?” 

“The lady who was…she was there.” 

“The woman who helped you call me?” Remus asks. “She left.” 

“She did?” 

“Yeah, honey. Just before James and Sirius got to us. You don’t remember?” 

“Wait, was that the driver?” Sirius asks. “She didn’t stay?” 

“No.” Remus’ tone turns sour. “The driver didn’t stop.” 

You don’t have to look at Sirius to feel his ire. It comes off him like waves of heat. “Fucker,” he seethes. 

“Sirius,” James says warningly. 

“I think it was an accident,” you say, trying to calm him. 

“Hitting a biker is an accident.” Sirius’ voice is low and dangerous. “A careless, idiotic accident, but leaving them, without even knowing what happened, is fucking—”

“Sirius,” Remus says sternly. “Not the time, love.” 

Sirius looks at you, softening. “Sorry, doll, you know I’d never leave you. But after we’re done here, I’m quitting my job to hunt that prick down.” 

“Full time?” James asks curiously. “Like what, Liam Neeson or something?” 

“Exactly like that.” 

“Doesn’t seem like a great way to make money.” 

“You won’t cover my portion of the rent for a couple months while I avenge our cruelly maimed sweetheart?” Sirius is aghast. “Have you no sense of justice?” 

“Am I maimed?” you ask, part joking but part genuinely alarmed. 

“Of course not, love,” Remus assures you quickly. He shoots Sirius a vexed look. “Maiming implies a permanency that doesn’t apply here. You’ll be fine.” 

“I was really just talking about the injustice part of it,” Sirius admits. 

“I’d rather not be avenged,” you tell him. “I think I’d prefer it if we got to keep you, and you didn’t hunt anyone down or get thrown in prison or anything.” 

“Mmm, I’ll consider it.” He kisses just above your eyebrow. “Say I abandon my vigilante life, what could I do instead that would make you feel better?” 

“A hug?” 

“Let me see what I can do.” 

[moonstruckme]

Hiiii!I hope your doing great I saw your requests just opened and I was wondering if you would mind doing a poly emt marauders with a reader that’s in hospital and they don’t know until they’re like bringing in someone in or something and their like why didn’t you tell us and she’s like oh cause I didn’t want you to worry.Something like that if not it’s fine have a good day!!!🌊

Thanks for requesting gorgeous! Not super sure if this is accurate since I don’t think paramedics usually spend much time inside the hospital but oh well haha. Hope you have a good day too! <3

cw: hospital/emergency room, mention of broken bone

emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 827 words

You’re just on your way out of A&E, feeling sore and shattered and more than a little sorry for yourself, when someone says your name. With an odd mix of relief and trepidation mingling in your chest, you turn. 

Sirius makes it to your first. He takes your face in his hands, eyes scanning it over thoroughly before starting to make their way down your body. “Baby, what’s happened?” 

“Hey,” you say, “what are you doing here?” 

“Um, no.” James gives you a funny-looking smile, amusement tangled up with worry. “It’s fairly normal for us to be here, what are you doing here?” 

“I, um—” 

“Idiots.” Remus bypasses them both, taking your injured hand gently and holding it up where your other boyfriends can see it. “What happened here, lovely?” 

“I broke my finger,” you admit. 

Sirius looks devastated, though with the splint binding your two fingers together you thought it was fairly obvious. “How?” 

“Shut it in my car door.” 

James winces and Remus tsks compassionately, turning your hand so he can see the injured digit from another angle. 

“How long have you been here?” he asks.

You shrug, not quite looking at any of them. “I had to wait a while. A few hours.” 

Remus’ look lets you know your sheepishness isn’t without good reason. “Did you drive yourself like this?” 

You nod meekly. 

“Angel!” James wraps his arms around you, tucking your head underneath his chin, and you go happily. You’ll take his mollycoddling over Remus’ reproachful stare any day. “Why didn’t you call us? I can’t believe you had to sit here all by yourself.” 

“I knew you were busy at work, and I didn’t want to worry you.” Now Sirius is glaring at you, too. You snuggle further into James’ embrace. “It wasn’t so bad.” 

“Did they have to set it?” Sirius asks. 

Your face heats. “Yeah. It was pretty weird-looking when it first happened.” 

James makes a pitiful whining sound. “Poor love.” 

“How long did they tell you it’d take to heal?” Remus’ voice sounds somewhat gentler now. He finally relinquishes your injured hand to Sirius, who starts turning it about and inspecting it in the same manner, like the doctor who splinted it for you might not have done a good enough job. 

“Six to eight weeks,” you say glumly. It already feels annoyingly constraining not being able to bend either of those fingers; you’re not sure how you’re supposed to deal with it for weeks on end. 

The boys exchange a look, and James drops the protective circle of his arms from around you. “I’m going to go find Amelia,” he says, “see if she’s on break.” 

You clutch at his shirt with your good hand. “Don’t leave me,” you whisper. 

Your boyfriend smiles, dropping a kiss on your head. “Sorry, lovie.” 

“I think we ought to feel insulted,” Sirius comments as James walks away. Remus only shrugs. 

He reaches for your face now that it’s not hidden under James’ chin, wiping frownily at something on your cheek. 

“Are you feeling alright now, dove?” he asks, and you veritably liquefy at the tenderness in his voice. 

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You shrug one shoulder lightly. “I’m sorry I didn’t call, but it really wasn’t awful.” 

Sirius gives your wrist an admonishing little squeeze. “You have tear marks on your face,” he contradicts you softly. 

“Oh.” You run a finger under your eyes, feeling your face heat. 

Remus tuts and lets his hand against the side of your neck, thumb stroking at your jaw. “We’re only on shift for another hour,” he tells you. “James is finding our friend Amelia so you can stay in the break room with her until we can come back and get you, okay?” 

You shake your head, and his stare hardens but you say anyway, “I don’t need to be babysat. I can get home on my own.” 

“You shouldn’t be driving after having anesthetic.” 

You narrow your eyes. “Wouldn’t they have told me if that were the case?” 

“We don’t want you driving with a numb hand,” Sirius clarifies. When you turn your attention to him, he gives you a stern look. “You should have called us in the first place. Just let us do what we can for you now, okay?” 

You sigh in resignation just as James comes up behind you again. Seeing as no one has taken over hug duty, he wraps both arms around your waist, setting his chin on your shoulder. 

“Okay,” you tell Sirius. 

“Oh, excellent. All on the same page, are we?” James turns his head to smooch your cheek. “Knew you’d come around, angel. Amelia’s ready for you, so you can hang in the break room until we get back.” 

“Is she going to baby me too?” you joke, letting him steer you towards the hallway. 

“Probably not,” Sirius says, “but don’t you worry, sweetness. We’ll make up for that when we get you home.” 

[moonstruckme]

hiiii sorry I feel like I request so much I just love your stories!!!! could you do an EMT poly!marauders where the reader is coming home from an injury or surgery or something and they’re just being all sweet and overprotective of her

Don't be sorry sweetheart, thank you for requesting!! <3

cw: mentions of hospital, surgery (no details), nausea

emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 930 words

“Careful of the step,” Remus warns as he unlocks the front door. 

James makes a disgruntled little sound as he passes over it with you in his arms, angling you sideways to get you both through the front door. 

“I know where the step is,” he says. “I’ve lived here exactly as long as you.” 

“I just wanted to make sure.” Remus heads straight for the bathroom. “Do you want to have some more ibuprofen, dove? It’s been long enough now.” 

“Yes, please,” you call after him. James sets you down on the couch, a divot forming between his brows at the thick quality to your voice. 

“Siri has your bag,” he reminds you. “You want it, just to be safe?” 

You nod, swallowing. 

Sirius hustles over, crouching in front of you and holding the plastic bag under your mouth. “Oh, baby,” he coos, setting a hand on the back of your neck while you shudder and cough unproductively over the bag. “I know, I’m sorry. Better make it aspirin, Rem,” he calls down the hall. “She’s still got a fever.” 

“How bad?” 

“I’ll check in a bit.” He presses his lips to your hairline, murmuring softly. “She’s under duress at the moment, aren’t you, poor girl?” 

You want to cry for the sweetness in his tone, not one ounce of teasing. It can be hard to tell with Sirius, sometimes, but when you’re not feeling well he goes gooey-soft and saccharine as honey, all pet names and gentle touches. His thumb strokes the baby hairs at your nape. 

Remus sighs as he comes back. “I knew we shouldn’t have checked her out.” 

“I didn’t want to stay there,” you say into the bag, and James splays a hand on your back, rubbing slow circles. 

“We know, sweetheart.” He gives his fretful boyfriend a reassuring smile. Remus returns it wearily. “We can take care of you just fine from here, don’t worry.” 

Within an hour of waking up from your surgery feeling nauseous and pathetic, you’d been begging anyone who would listen to let you go home. The hospital had wanted to monitor you for a couple more hours, but after that your boyfriends had been able to exercise some sort of paramedic privilege and take you home early despite the normal two-to-three-day inpatient protocol. Your troubles hadn’t evaporated the way you’d expected upon getting out from under all that fluorescent lighting, but you do feel much better being miserable on your own couch. 

You cough into the bag a few more times before relinquishing yourself to the idea that you’re stuck with this nausea for the foreseeable future. “I don’t like this,” you decide, lowering the bag from your face. 

Remus tosses a thermometer to Sirius, who catches it with a good-natured eye-roll and sets it in your ear compliantly. 

“I’m sorry, my love,” James says, his hand migrating to your shoulder as you lean back against the couch cushions. “I know it’s rough right now.” 

The thermometer beeps, and Sirius reads the number aloud as he takes it out. You frown. 

“Oh, thank god,” Remus exhales. James chuckles at him. 

“It’s okay?” you check. 

“Perfectly okay.” Sirius kisses your temple. “That’s completely normal for the first twenty-four hours. You’re all good, sweetness.” 

Pathetically, you feel a bit invalidated. To feel as gross as you do, surely your brain would have to be fully boiling in there. James must see some of this on your face, because he scoots closer to you on the couch, leaning you against his side. 

“Sorry,” you say quietly. 

You can feel Sirius gaze boring into the side of your head as he perches on the armrest. “Not sure why you would be,” he mutters, worming his cold feet underneath your thigh, “but do go on.” 

“I made you all take me home and now I’m being difficult.” 

You’re not quite looking at any of them, but you could swear a collective sigh goes up from your boyfriends. 

“Dove,” says Remus, “look at me.” 

You do, shifting ever so slightly closer to James' side for comfort. A quiet chuckle rumbles through him, his thumb sweeping back and forth over your shoulder. 

Remus’ gaze is steady and kind, his usual remonstrance curbed for your sorry state. “You’re not being difficult,” he tells you. “You’re tired and not feeling well, and that’s to be expected after a procedure like this. I didn’t mean I regret us taking you home, I’m only nervous that you’d have been better taken care of in the hospital.” 

“Impossible,” Sirius remarks. Remus nods in grudging acknowledgement. 

“I’m glad I’m home,” you say, and despite your best intentions your voice teeters on the edge of a whimper. “I’d rather be with just you guys, you know?” 

“We know,” Remus says gently. “I’m glad you’re here, too.” 

James makes a soft sound, rubbing your shoulder more firmly. “Are you feeling tired, angel? We could have a nap.” 

“We?” you ask.

“What, you think you’re the only one who deserves a rest?” Sirius wiggles his toes underneath your thigh. “You got to sleep just this morning. We’ve been worrying all day long.” 

You smile. He looks thrilled to see it, and James stamps a kiss of approval on your cheek. “Right, my bad. A nap sounds good.” 

“Perfect,” Remus agrees, standing. James needles his arms underneath you to pick you up again. 

“Fairly sure they said I could walk on my own,” you say. 

James only shrugs, carrying you towards the bedroom. “Not sure I heard that part. Better safe than sorry, I suppose.”

[moonstruckme]

hello, hello! can i ask for an au of emt!marauders? she had a minor accident maybe in her work or college and they got called in without knowing that it was her? (shes their gf) 💘

How could I refuse??

cw: minor head injury, the teeniest tiniest hint of a praise kink

emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.5k words

You’re sitting on the curb holding a bag of ice to your head when the ambulance cuts its sirens, coming to a stop. The door opens and boots hit the pavement in front of you. 

“Dollface?”

You blink up into the sun. “Sirius?”

He crouches by your knees, worry making itself at home in the crease between his brows. “Hey, baby, what’s going on?”

“I didn’t think it’d be you,” you say dumbly. 

“Are you hurt?” James comes bounding around the other side of the ambulance, Remus not far behind him. You can’t say you’re not happy to see them, but you sort of wish your reunion could have waited until your date tomorrow night, when you would almost surely not have been in your work uniform and covered in pasta sauce. “Are we here for you?” 

“Technically,” you reply, somewhat bitterly. James squats beside Sirius, mouth pulling to one side. “I fainted a little bit, and my boss said he had to call an ambulance. Just so I can’t sue the restaurant, I guess. I’m totally fine.” 

“They called us and then made you sit on the curb?” Sirius asks angrily while James says, “How does one faint only a little bit?”

“They didn’t want you guys scaring the customers.” You choose to answer only Sirius’ question, shrugging. His eyes flare, and he looks towards the restaurant like he’s thinking about going inside to have some words with your manager, but Remus passes a conciliatory hand over his shoulder as he sits beside you on the curb. 

“What’s this for, love?” he asks you, covering your hand where it holds the bag of ice.

You must look as sheepish as you feel, because his eyes narrow slightly. “I guess I hit my head a bit when I fell.” 

“So,” he says dryly, “not totally fine, then.” 

“I mean, I don’t think I hit it very hard,” you try, but Remus is already removing your makeshift ice pack, tilting your head so he can see the forming bump on the side. 

“Why don’t you tell us everything that happened,” James suggests, giving your knee a teasing squeeze as Sirius moves beside Remus to jockey for a view of your head, “just so we have all the facts.” 

“I was carrying a tray to my table,” you explain, wincing as Remus passes a thumb over your wound with a murmured apology, “and I started to feel weird, like wobbly and out of it. I thought it might pass, but—” Sirius sends you a horrified look and your voice quiets, chastened. “I know I probably should have sat down or something, but I was working, you know? Anyway, then I guess I fell and smacked my head on the floor. When I woke up, the food was everywhere,” you recall with a sigh. Your coworkers are going to be less than pleased with you for leaving them that mess to clean up. 

“Is that what this is?” James asks, mouth tilting upward as he looks at the mess of your uniform. 

You nod solemnly. “Alfredo sauce.” 

“Did you land on any glass or anything?” Sirius asks you. He and Remus have evidently finished with their inspection of your head, though Remus’ hand still cups the back of your neck protectively.

“No, all the plates that ended up breaking went the other way.” 

“You thinking concussion?” James asks him. 

“No,” you say, at the same time as Sirius says, “Maybe.” 

Sirius fixes you with an odd look, half remonstrance and half endearment. “Sorry, doll, but you’re not exactly an expert. You very stubbornly did your job when you should have looked after yourself” —he squints his eyes at you playfully, giving your shoulder a mean squeeze— “now let us do ours for a bit, yeah?” 

You purse your lips in malcontent, but James is already clicking on his pen light, shining it in your eyes. “Look straight ahead for me, angel?” 

“S’not a big deal,” you mutter one last time in quiet mutiny, doing as he says. All three boys ignore you. 

James clicks the light off. “Alright, do you know the date?” 

“No.” 

“How about the year?” he asks patiently. You tell him, and he goes on to ask you the month and the day of the week. 

“Good.” He rewards you with a smile when you answer correctly. “Okay, do you feel nauseous or dizzy at all, darling?” 

When he looks at you like that? A little, but that’s probably unrelated. “No,” you tell him. 

“Headache?” Remus asks you. 

“I mean, only here.” You lay your palm over the bump to indicate it, but wince when it hurts worse than you expected. Sirius coos, taking your hand in his to prevent you doing yourself further harm. “Not on, like, the inside.” 

“Okay, that’s what I meant,” Remus reassures you. “What about why you fainted, love? Do you have any idea what happened?” 

You bite the inside of your lip, thinking. “Not really.” Your head had just hurt a bit, then you’d felt woozy, and then you’d fallen and it had hurt a lot worse. 

“Did you have lunch before you came to work?” James prompts. 

You nod. 

“What did you have?” 

You tell him. He seems tentatively satisfied. 

“And for breakfast? What about for dinner last night?” 

You think back, telling him what you can remember, and he nods, looking somewhat bemused. 

“Did you have a drink with any of that?” Remus asks.

You think harder. Had you? The realization must show on your face, because Sirius tuts. 

“There it is,” he says knowingly. “When was the last time you had water, doll?” 

“I…I don’t remember. I had coffee yesterday—”

They all groan. James starts laughing soon after, patting you on the thigh at your timid expression. 

“It’s okay, sweetheart, just drink plenty of water and then go home to rest, alright? You might feel shaky for a bit, so don’t get in your car to drive until you’re feeling better. Rem, do we have some water bottles in the van?” 

“Yeah.” Remus stands, palm landing affectionately on your head as he passes behind you to climb into the back of the ambulance. 

“Don’t worry,” you tell James, exhaustion seeping into your voice, “I won’t be driving for a while yet. My shift doesn’t end until six.” 

Contrary to your intentions, some of the relief saps from James’ countenance. “You’re still planning on working?” 

Uh, duh. Does he think your rent is going to pay itself? “I mean,” you say, trying to appear somewhat patient, “yeah.” 

“Well, go ahead and get that out of your head right now,” Sirius nearly laughs. “There’s no way that’s happening today, sweetness.” 

“What’s not happening?” Remus asks, uncapping a water bottle before passing it to you. 

“She thinks she’s going back to work,” Sirius says wryly. 

Remus looks at you, appalled. You only shrug, sipping at your water.

“You can’t work after a fainting spell like that. Especially not as dehydrated as you are—your body needs rest.” He shakes his head at you. “You can either get it at home or come with us to the hospital.” 

You roll your eyes, re-capping the half-drained water bottle. “That’s so dramatic.” 

“No, I’m the dramatic,” Sirius corrects you. “Remus is the reasonable one, which is how you know he’s right. Those are your options, dollface.”

You huff. “Fine, then can one of you go tell my manager that? I don’t want to be blamed for skipping the rest of my shift.” 

“You’re not skipping anything,” Sirius says, standing. “I’ll go, I’ve got some things to say to him anyway.” He cracks his knuckles, and you look to James in alarm. 

He leaps up, catching up to Sirius in a few long strides and nudging him back towards you. “I’ve got it, Pads. Why don’t you make sure she finishes that water bottle?” 

“Fine.” Sirius stomps his way back to you. “But make him answer for sending her outside to sit on the curb.”

“Please don’t!” you call after James.

Sirius’ gaze narrows, flicking between you and the water bottle beside you expectantly. “Drink.” 

“Fine, sheesh.” You pick it up and twist off the cap. Remus chuckles, picking up your half-melted bag of ice to hold it against your head for you. “Isn’t it, like, your job to be nice to people when they’re injured?” 

“I thought you weren’t injured?” Remus hums. You shoot him a look that’s meant to be intimidating, but his lips twitch upwards. “Relax, love, we’re just worried about you.”

Well, it’s hard to be mad at that. “Thanks,” you say quietly. 

Sirius resumes his crouch in front of you, taking one of your knees in each hand and squeezing lightly. “We get off in a few hours,” he says. “Would it be okay if we came by for dinner? We can bring takeout or something.” 

You lower the water bottle, looking at him with interest. Your day has suddenly taken a positive turn. “Yeah, that sounds great.” 

“Good.” He smiles, leaning forward to kiss you on the cheek. “Now be a good girl and finish your water.” 

You flush instantly, and Remus’ head swivels as if to make sure no one is nearby to have heard him. “Sirius,” you hiss, “I’m at work!”

His grin sharpens. “Not anymore, you’re not.” 

[moonstruckme]

Hey I don’t know if you’re taking requests but if not just ignore this :) but if so could you write a poly!emt marauders fic where readers sick or something’s wrong but she doesn’t tell them or anyone until she gets semi seriously hurt

FYI your fics are literally my favorites they are so good I’ve been binging all your marauders fics <33

Thank you gorgeous!

cw: fainting, nausea, mention of skipping a meal

(also note: I used celsius because they’re british, but for my american homies 39.5 is just over 103 degrees fahrenheit)

emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.5k words

Your day has been hazy. You knew you were off before you even left the house, the lazy sluggishness of sleep not wearing off the way it normally does, but you couldn’t afford to pay it any mind. Your work had gotten done slower than usual, frustrating for all the effort you put into it. The thought of lunch made your stomach churn, so you had mint tea during your break instead. The joints in your fingers ached from typing. Even now, sitting on the barstool at your kitchen counter while you try and finish up an assignment that really should have been done hours ago, your back seems stiffer than usual. Your bones hurt. 

“That’s far too much onion,” Sirius comments from the stool beside you, leaning across the counter to scrutinize James and Remus’ work in the kitchen. 

Remus pauses in dumping a cutting board full of chopped onion into the pan on the stove. You see him look at James in your periphery, and even without paying proper attention you know something passes between them. James takes the cutting board from Remus, scraping the remainder of the onion in with a knife. 

“Overruled,” he decrees. 

Sirius scoffs, leaning back and crossing his arms. “Have fun kissing me tonight.” 

“I’d think if we’re all eating it, we’ll be on fairly equal footing in that regard,” Remus points out. 

“Yes, equally foul-smelling. So romantic.” 

“Angel,” James says as he starts slicing up bell peppers, “do you plan on working on that all night?” 

“Almost done,” you murmur, trying to ignore how nauseous the smell of all the food makes you. You squint into the brightness of your laptop, typing as quick as you can think. Which is to say, not impressively fast. 

It’s your boyfriends’ day off, and they’ve decided to celebrate the rare occurrence of none of them being scheduled to work by going to the cinema. James and Remus are making dinner first, but the film’s in just under two hours. You know you’re sacrificing some time with them now, but it’s only so you can enjoy the main event later. Plus, if you stop working, you’re not sure you’ll be able to pick up the momentum to start again. You have a creeping sense that at the first opportunity for rest, you’ll lie down and never get up. 

James says something encouraging, and then the conversation goes on without you. You lock into your laptop screen, fingers pressing down upon the keyboard like an extension of your brain, and gradually the sensation of being outside of yourself, your body moving on autopilot while your mind simply fuzzes over, envelops you. Slowly, the world just…slips. 

An odd sound leaves Sirius as he lunges for you, like an alarm that went off without him telling it to. He catches you but not quite, one hand wrapping around your arm and the other fisting in the material of your shirt, stopping you from tipping over only temporarily. James runs from behind the counter to help. Accompanied by a steady stream of curses from both of his boyfriends, he eases you out of your stool and onto the floor. You’re already coming to. 

“Is she okay?” Remus asks from the kitchen, and Sirius hears the sound of the stove flicking off. 

“She’s hot,” James says, one hand cushioning your head from the floor while the other feels about your face and neck. 

The quip comes to Sirius naturally—as usual—but he’s in no mood to deliver it. Though he trusts James’ assessment, he touches the backs of his fingers to your forehead anyway, hissing at the heat that meets them. It’s a wonder he didn’t feel it emanating from you in the barstool next to him. 

“Angel,” James’ voice is a coo, gentleness coming naturally to him whereas Sirius’ panic feels hot and dangerous beneath his skin, “do you feel alright?” 

You hum, though it sounds more like a grunt. “Mhm.” 

Sirius almost laughs. “Come on,” he says, “be straight with us.” He works two fingers into your wrist to get your pulse, rubbing his free hand up your arm cajolingly. “You did just pass out, so we know you’re not fine.” 

Remus sets a hand on Sirius’ back as he lowers himself to the ground by your legs. A support for them both. 

“I…” You blink for a couple of seconds, and they wait, knowing you’re probably still out of it. “I guess I feel a little sick.” 

James cracks a smile, though it’s tinged with worry. “A little?” he asks, smoothing down the baby hairs at your temple. “You’ve got a horrid fever.” 

You sigh. “I figured.” 

“You figured?” Sirius is aghast. He suddenly has a very clear picture of how your day has gone, and it unnerves him. “How long have you been feeling like this?” 

You look wary, and Remus’ hand runs the length of Sirius’ back quickly as he stands. “Alright, let’s move you somewhere more comfortable, yeah dovey?” 

You relax a bit at the affection in his tone, and Sirius feels bad about ever making you miss it. This is something he’s never been able to quell about himself. His love almost always manifests roughly. For the most part, you all know how to interpret it, but when you’re vulnerable like this and he can feel you feeling the gnashing teeth of his worry, Sirius wishes he were gentler. 

James won’t let you walk yourself the short distance to the couch, lifting you in a bridal carry and setting you down with such carefulness it makes Sirius’ chest ache. Remus goes to get the thermometer. Sirius steals the spot beside your head selfishly. Thankfully, there’s no lingering timidity in your gaze as he combs his fingers through your hair, pushing it away from your ear and trailing his touch down your neck. 

“You’ve been feeling unwell for a while,” he says, softer this time, “haven’t you.” 

You look more guilty than anything, eyes going big and doe-like. “Yeah.”

“Why didn’t you say?” James asks, lifting your legs so he can scooch underneath. He rubs the skin above your knees fondly, a small furrow between his brows. 

“I just,” you sigh as though disappointed, “wasn’t ready.” 

“Wasn’t ready for what?” 

“To be sick.” 

The scratchy, delightful sound of Remus’ laugh comes into the room with him. “Well that’s silly,” he says, reaching over Sirius to settle the thermometer in your ear. “It doesn’t seem to be waiting on you, does it?” 

“Guess not,” you mutter. Sirius strokes your jaw with his thumb. 

When the thermometer goes off, both he and James lean in to see, but Remus forsakes them, bringing it up near his face where he can read it. He hums. 

“What is it?” James asks. 

“Thirty nine point five.” 

They all frown. Sirius touches your forehead again, just to be sure. Unfortunately, it seems accurate. 

“What are your symptoms, sweetheart?” Remus asks you, settling on the floor beside Sirius with his knees bent in front of him. “Does anything hurt?” 

“I feel sick—like nauseous, and sort of achey.” A little notch appears between your brows, and Sirius had the impression that you’re finally letting yourself acknowledge your own misery. His gut twists with sympathy. “My stomach is starting to hurt, but I’m not sure if that’s just because I skipped lunch.” 

None of your boyfriends even have to say anything. You look abashed enough by their expressions. 

“I wasn’t feeling well,” you say in a small voice. 

James breaks easily, taking your hand and bringing it to his mouth for a firm kiss. “Can’t believe you went all day feeling this poorly and didn’t say anything,” he chides lovingly. “What did you think was going to happen, hm?” 

“I know, I’m sorry.” Your gaze flitters about the room, landing on Sirius’ eyes for a fraction of a second before it’s dropping shyly to the couch cushion. “It was dumb.” 

“So long as you know,” Remus agrees with a brief eye-roll. “It sounds like the stomach flu, so at least it should be better in a couple of days, but there’s not much to do other than rest.” 

Your face pinches unhappily. “I’m sorry for messing up your big night too,” you say, and you look like you’d curl up in misery if James weren’t currently using your legs as a blanket. Sirius’ heart gives a little throb. 

“Don’t be,” James says. “We’re still with you, aren’t we? And if we get sick, too, that’s just more days off!”

It’s clearly a joke, but you look extra guilty anyways. Your features tighten in a slight wince. Sirius works a hand between your face and the couch cushion, leaning forward to kiss the space between your brows. 

“Don’t worry about it, darling,” he says. “Better when we can be with you than when we’re busy helping some other poor sap, yeah?”

[moonstruckme]

Hi! I love your works but the poly!marauders have my heart and soul. This is literally my first request ever but could we have poly!marauders as emts, where they are already in a relationship with the reader and reader keeps getting dizzy and passing out without a clear reason. Or literally anything established relationship and hurt/comfort with them.

I’m so bad at communicating and I hope you know and trust that people sincerely think you are amazing and believe in your talents even if we don’t know you in real life.

Much love and happiness for the new year <3

You're so sweet omg, thank you!! I slightly varied your dizzy/passing out idea but I hope this scratches the hurt/comfort itch <3

cw: severe dizziness, vomiting (this actually happened to me as a kid and I still have no idea what it was but it was ROUGH)

emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words

You wake with a whine already tearing from your throat. The room is dark, and yet somehow it’s spinning. You know this more by feeling than by sight. 

You breathe heavily, patting the bed next to you until you find something that’s not sheet. You’re holding your head as motionless as you can. You think it’s slowing. 

“Hm?” Remus grunts. 

“Help.” Your voice is scratchy, choked with panic. “I don’t—I’m so dizzy.”

“What?” He shifts on the bed, and your plan to keep still is instantly foiled. The slight movement of your pillow sends your head rolling again. Terror claws up your throat. “What’s wrong?” 

“I don’t know,” you stress. “I just woke up and it’s like I’m spinning, Rem, I can’t see and—”

“Okay, shh, shh. Calm down.” You feel his spindly hand set down on top of yours. 

The sheets whisper as the other boys rouse, and then a light turns on. It’s instantly better and worse. You can make out vaguely that you’re in bed, but everything in front of you whirls. At least now you can detect movement as a brownish shape enters your field of vision. 

“What’s going on?” James’ voice is groggy. His hand stretches across your clavicle. “Why’re you looking up like that?” 

“She says she’s dizzy.” Remus lifts his head above yours, or you think he does, a smear of pale skin and brown hair. “Is everything still spinning, dove?” 

You try to hum in affirmation, but it comes out a bit like a whimper. “It hasn’t stopped, but it gets worse anytime I move my head.” 

“Sounds like vertigo,” Sirius says. You recall he’d fallen asleep on Remus’ other side, but you don’t know if he’s moved since then. It’s odd speaking to them like this, disembodied voices you can touch but not see. 

A warm hand lays across your forehead. “No fever,” James murmurs. “Is it getting better when you’re still like that, angel?” 

You swallow. Maybe it’s because you’re in a vulnerable state, but his concerned tone is making your sinuses hurt. 

“A little. Not enough to see or anything.” 

You feel the bed dip, and then someone’s knees are digging into the sides of your hips. “Alright, gorgeous,” Sirius says, “let’s sit you up.”  

“That sounds not fun,” you voice your concern hastily.

He coos, enfolding you in a hug that presses you securely against his chest. “I know, baby, but it could help us figure out what’s going on with you, okay?” He starts leaning back slowly, pulling you upright with him. “There, good girl.” 

You recognize the feel of James’ hand as it splays on your back, drawing big, sweeping circles. You feel like you could be sick. You close your eyes, but can’t decide if that helps. Everything is worse. There’s no escaping it. 

Remus’ bony knuckles brush your forehead, rechecking your temperature. “Can you hear us alright? Are your ears ringing at all?” 

“I don’t think so.” It’s hard to tell when everything else is already so disorienting. Could it be a quiet ringing? You’re not sure you’d know it if you heard it. “I can hear you fine.” 

He hums. James’ hand leaves your back and the mattress shifts as he gets out of bed. You turn your head on instinct to see where he’s going. It’s the worst idea of your life. You groan as the spinning intensifies, dragging you along on a tilt-a-whorl you’d never agreed to. It’s the feeling of the drunkest you’ve ever been times a thousand. 

Before you know it’s coming, bile rushes up your throat and spews out onto the bed. 

“Oh, sweetheart.” 

One pair of hands grips you by the shoulders, keeping you from pitching forward into your own sick, while another gathers your hair away from your face. You whimper as saliva strings from your mouth. Someone wipes it away with their sleeve. 

“I’m sorry.” Your throat hurts, your voice flagrant evidence of how close you are to tears. Your hair is secured behind your head with a ponytail. “Shit, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s alright, darling, it’s not your fault,” Remus shushes you, using that tone he does when he’s trying to cover his own worry and soothe someone else’s at the same time. You once heard him talk this way to a kitten he was trying to coax out of the road. “Do you feel any better now?” 

A sob catches in your throat. “No,” you confess. 

If anything, the feeling has gotten worse. It’s like you’re swimming in your own head. You grope blindly for something to hold, and a cool hand presses itself into yours. Sirius. 

“I’m really scared,” you choke out. 

His fingers squeeze yours. “I know,” he says. “I’m sorry, baby, I know it has to be terrifying.” 

He presses his lips ardently to your forehead. Wetness drips from your nose, and you grip his hand hard. It’s horrifically disconcerting not to be able to see your boyfriends, to be robbed of your sense of place, but their touches are grounding. The contact makes everything feel a bit more solid. 

“James is getting some things ready to go to the hospital,” Remus says softly, and you realize they must have been having one of your silent eye conversations while you couldn’t see. Stupidly, you feel a bit left out. 

“You can't help me here?” You’re pleading, your voice raw and wretched. You don’t want to make them feel bad, but what good is it to have three medically-trained professionals for boyfriends if they can’t utilize their expertise here at home? 

“I’m sorry, dovey.” Remus’ thumbs stroke your shoulders. “Vertigo this severe is probably an ear infection, but it could also be something more serious. Either way, we can’t get you antibiotics without a doctor.”

“The quicker we go, the quicker you could be feeling better,” James says, signaling his return. “Here, honey, I brought this to clean you up.” He doesn’t tell you what this is, but a second later a warm cloth swipes across your mouth and over your chin, wiping away the vomit there. 

“Thanks,” you say weakly. 

You can hear the smile in his voice well enough to picture it, small and sympathetic. “My pleasure, angel. Do you think you’ll be sick again?” 

“No.” You can say it with moderate certainty. Your head is still roiling, but it’s no longer taking your stomach with it. 

“Okie dokie,” he goes on with his usual determined cheer. “I’ve got a change of clothes for you in the car, so I think we’re all ready to go. Hold your head here for me?” He presses it gently to what you suppose must be his chest, the neckline of his pajama shirt rough against your cheek. “I’ll try to keep as still as I can.” 

Remus and Sirius let you go as James’ arms wrap around your shoulders and under your knees, lifting you off the bed. You push your face into his collar, grabbing a fistful of his shirt. Your vision swirls. 

“Fuck,” you mumble. 

“I’ve got you, my love.” James’ lips come down on your forehead, warm and sweet. “We’re gonna take such great care of you, I promise.”

[moonstruckme]

If you don’t mind what about poly!marauders (emts version) x reader where she hides a injury that’s kinda serious (idk like a cut that’s pretty deep or smth) but she doesn’t think it’s serious, so she tries to hide it from them to not feel like a burden since they are always busy with work. Basically just a mix of emts marauders and casual dominance

Thanks for requesting lovely <3

cw: mention of blood

emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words

You’re trying to figure out whether putting your shoe in the washing machine will damage it irrevocably when the bathroom door handle twists. 

You look up like a deer caught in headlights. Sirius’ gaze flits from the shoe in your hand to the bloodstained sock on the floor to your wide-eyed look. 

“Shut the door!” you whisper-yell. He must be reeling, because he actually does it, closing the door with a click and dropping down beside you on the bathroom floor. 

“What’s going on?” he asks. Again, his gaze goes to your once-blue sock, now marred by a dark red stain. “Are you hurt?” 

You see the moment Sirius notices the foot you’re holding, layers of toilet paper wrapped loosely around the arch. His eyes sharpen. 

“Don’t tell James and Remus,” you plead. 

“Are you hurt?” he asks again, sternly now. 

Your lip finds it way beneath your teeth. “Not really,” you say. “It’s not terrible or anything, I just can’t get it to stop bleeding.” 

“That’s not usually a great sign, sweetheart.” Sirius scoots closer, holding out his hands. “Let me see.” 

You know better than to argue, transferring your foot into his lap. He gives you an odd look about the toilet paper before starting to unravel it, the thin material tearing under his rushed handling. Your boyfriend relaxes slightly when the wound is revealed. It’s deceptively small for how much blood seems to come out of it, the cut only a couple of centimeters along the arch of your foot. 

Sirius adjusts his grip, lifting it to the light to see it better, and you try not to look so visibly flustered at the tender way he’s handling you. 

“It’s little, see?” you say. “No need to bother anyone else.” 

He lowers your foot to give you an amused look. “Darling, as much as I love to have our dirty little secrets together,” he says, “you know they’d kill me.” 

“They wouldn’t,” you say, half desperate. “They love you, and I’ll protect you anyway.” 

Sirius’ mouth pinches. He thumbs at your ankle apologetically. “James would have us both flat on our backs in under a minute. Admire your confidence, though.” He sucks in a breath. “Rem, James!” 

The TV shuts off, and then there are footsteps on the stairs. Sirius is impervious to your glare, only picking your foot up again and turning it this way and that to see it better. 

“What?” James calls. You can hear Remus grumbling about how your apartment is hardly large enough to necessitate this much yelling. 

“In here!” Sirius shouts back. 

The door opens a second later, your other two boyfriends crowding the already small bathroom. James is crouched in an instant, setting a hand on Sirius’ shoulder to steady himself. 

“Oh, lovie, what’d you do?” 

You open your mouth to respond, but Sirius says, “Can one of you grab the first aid kit and a pen light? I can’t see if there’s anything still in here.”

“There shouldn’t be,” you say as Remus goes for the kit. “I already took out the glass.” 

Both Sirius and James look up from your foot, eyebrows raised. 

“And what were you doing that you ended up with glass in your foot?” Sirius asks. 

Your shoulders gravitate towards your ears. “Cleaning up the glass that I broke.” 

Remus hums disapprovingly as he passes a pen light to Sirius, who clicks it on, shining it onto your foot. You do your best to pretend this doesn’t make you want to crawl out of your skin. 

“When did that happen?” he asks. 

“This morning.” 

“Sweetheart.” James’ disapproval is evident in his voice. You can’t bring yourself to look up and witness it in his face, too. 

“And why didn’t you say anything when you hurt yourself?” Remus asks. He sits down beside you, eyes on what the other two are doing though you can feel his attention on you. 

“Because I didn’t want to bother you,” you say quietly. 

He tsks, and he doesn’t need to say anything more. It’s plain enough you’re in trouble. 

For a few moments, the silence is thick and hot, torturous, but surprisingly it's Sirius who does you the mercy of putting you out of your misery. 

“It doesn’t look like you’ve got any more glass in here.” He clicks off the pen light, and your hamstrings sigh in relief as he lowers your foot to rest back in his lap. “That’s lucky,” he tells you severely. “You can’t always rely on just picking out the big piece and having that be that.” 

“Stitches?” Remus asks, and you tense. You hadn’t even considered that. 

“I don’t think so,” Sirius says, but he sounds uncertain. “It’s just barely deep enough, though.” 

“Let’s see.” James holds out his hands, and Sirius hands it off to him. You try to ignore the fact that your foot is being passed around like something a child brought to show-and-tell. James takes up the pen light, peering at it for a few moments before nodding decisively. He pats the side of your foot. “I think you should be safe.” 

You must look as relieved as you feel, because James smiles, squeezing up the length of your calf. 

“What I really don’t understand,” he says lightly, “is why the hell you’ve been keeping it wrapped in toilet paper.” 

You can’t help but return his smile sheepishly as you shrug. “It works,” you say. “Plus, Remus gatekeeps the first aid kit.” 

“It’s only in the cabinet above the toilet,” Remus sighs. 

Sirius scoffs, and James across you to pat him on the thigh. “No one can reach it up there but you, love.” 

You look over in time to catch your boyfriend’s eye roll, paired with the smirk he tries to hide. “Regardless,” he says, “it seems as though it wouldn’t be an issue if anyone who can’t reach it,” his eyes slide to yours, and you find new interest in the floor tiles, “would just ask someone else to get it for them, rather than being secretive.” You can feel his gaze searing into the side of your head, but you refuse to look up even when Sirius snickers and pinches your leg meanly. “If you didn’t have the kit, how did you clean it, dove?” 

“It’s clean,” you hedge, but make the mistake of looking up into Sirius’ stern gaze. He cocks an eyebrow as if to say Go on. “I ran it under the tap in the bathtub.” 

Remus sighs, Sirius groans, and James lets his head fall fully forward onto your knee. 

“Sweetheart,” James presses a kiss to your shin, “my love, I know you mean well, but this is why you need to tell us things.” 

“What’s the problem?” you ask as Remus moves to sit by Sirius, opening up the first aid kit. “Water’s just as good.” 

“It’s really not,” Sirius says, “seeing as antiseptic kills bacteria and water doesn’t. Do you want to stay where you are or sit up on the counter, darling?” 

“I’ve got a better idea.” James scooches over by you, lifting you by your waist and setting you in his lap. “There. Far more comfortable, don’t you think?” 

“Much.” You grin, turning your head to kiss him. “Thanks, Jamie.” 

“Spent a whole day keeping secrets and still getting the princess treatment.” Sirius’ tone is equal parts teasing and affectionate as he smooths a hand up and down your calf. “We must really love you or something.”

[moonstruckme]

Hi mae! I love eveything you write!! Kind of in a similar vein to doctor!remus i wanted to request poly!marauders where they are emt’s and they respond to a call where reader is injured and when they arrive to help reader is just super flustered and shy because there are three very sweet and attractive and charming men she doesn’t know taking care of her

Thanks lovely!

part 1 | part 2

Cw: car accident aftermath, concussion, blood, and definitely some smutty implications but nothing that would fluster your grandmother, also maybe don’t read if medical inaccuracies will piss you off because I can almost guarantee this is riddled with them (I am but a girl)

emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.7k words

Someone else must have called emergency services, because the first thing you hear is sirens. Your car is smoky—that can’t be safe, can it?—and you ache, and the shaking of your hands makes them frustratingly inefficient at undoing the buckle of your seatbelt. 

The sirens get louder and then stop. The ruckus you can hear but not see outside of your smashed windshield increases, and there’s a warm wetness on your face, getting in your eyes. You reach up to swipe at it. The door next to you opens. 

“Hi.” A curly mop of hair attached to a smiling face pops in your driver’s door. “How we doing?” 

You inhale shakily. “All right.” 

His grin goes lopsided, brown eyes skimming over your form. “Well, at least you’ve got a good attitude. We’re gonna get you out of here in just a second, but first can you tell me what’s hurting you?” 

You blink. Things seem to be moving oddly slowly. Every inch of you trembles. “Is my car going to blow up?” 

The paramedic’s eyebrows raise. You hear something on your opposite side but can’t be bothered to look. “We don’t think so. Are you asking because of the powder?” 

He must mean the smoky stuff swirling about your car. You try to nod, but it hurts, and the man puts a gloved hand to your neck to stop you. 

“No no, don’t move,” he cautions. 

“That’s just powder from the airbags,” a voice on your other side says, and the paramedic makes a small sound of protest when you turn your head to find it. There’s another one leaning in the open door on your passenger side. He’s got fluffy brown hair lighter than the first’s and a large scar on one side of his face which stretches as his eyebrows bunch. “Can you tell us what hurts, please?” 

“My head,” you answer, bringing a quivering hand to your breastbone. “A—and my chest.” 

“No pain in your neck or back?” The first, darker paramedic asks, and when you confirm he nods approvingly. “Well, some of that might come later, but that’s good enough for now. All right, sweetheart, do you think you can stand?” 

“Yeah,” you say, sounding uncertain even to your own ears. He grasps your forearm in one hand while wrapping another around your back, helping you out of your seat. 

As soon as you’re through the door there’s another set of gloved hands on your opposite arm. You look up to see a third man, slighter than the others, helping the first carry you a short distance to a gurney. 

And daylight is something else. Your head and chest hurt worse than before, but it doesn’t help that you very nearly stop breathing when you take in the sight of the three paramedics who have surrounded you. 

“Can you tell us what you remember from the accident?” The second one, the one who’d come through your passenger door—you can see in the sunlight that he has more scars than just the one, though he’s no less beautiful for it—asks. There’s a gentleness to the set of his brows as he frowns at you, pressing something to your forehead. 

A policeman makes to approach you, and the curly-headed one turns, taking on a sternness that doesn’t suit him as he wards the other man off with a hand and a few quiet words. 

“Hey.” The scarred paramedic brings your attention back to him. “Do you know what happened?”

“I…” Fuck, you can’t tell if you’re woozy from whatever’s happening with your head or just the attention from the three of them. They’re moving you, other people and cars passing in your periphery as they wheel the gurney towards an ambulance. “I wrecked my car?” 

The third paramedic laughs, the sound sharp and crisp despite the general fuzziness surrounding you. He’s got longish, inky black hair tied in a ponytail at the nape of his neck. “It’s not a trick question, dollface. And the state of your car isn’t really what we’re worried about right now.” 

“Sirius,” the scarred one chides. You think distantly that Sirius is an odd name. Unique and pretty-sounding. “Do you remember if you fell asleep, love?” 

You want to shrink away from his attentive stare, but his hand on your forehead holds you in place. “I’m not sure,” you say. “Was there—are the people in the other car okay?” 

“Pretty sure she was just waking up when I got to her,” the first paramedic says, curls bouncing slightly as he stations himself by your feet and helps lift the gurney into the back of the ambulance. “Yeah, sweetheart, everyone else is alright. Might be a bit sore tomorrow, but signing refusals of treatment as we speak. Do you feel sick?” 

Actually, maybe it’s the speed of the conversation that’s making you woozy. “No?” 

“Well, that’s reassuring,” he jokes. “That’s okay, just let us know if you do.” He flashes you another dazzling smile.

You think you might return it, but then light hits your eyes and you wince instead. 

“You’re okay,” the dark haired one—Sirius, you remember—reassures you. “I’m just going to shine this in your eyes really quickly. Try to keep them open for me?” 

You do your best, and he works swiftly as promised, flashing the bright white beam into one eye and then the other before clicking it off with a gentle pat to your knee. 

“Definitely concussed,” he says to the other two. Excellent.

“Okay, I’m just going to close this up for now,” the scarred one explains, voice low and soothing as he removes whatever he’s been holding to your head. “It looks like you’ll need stitches, but I need to stop the bleeding until we can get those done, yeah? It might feel like little pinches.” 

“Okay,” you say, voice embarrassingly shaky from the tender way he’s holding your head in his hands. “Thank you.”

He smiles. The effect is dizzying, scars pulling taut as the severity melts from his features. “You’re welcome, lovely,” he says softly. “How’d this happen, then? Did you hit your head on the steering wheel?” 

You try to remember. “I guess so. I’m…not sure.” 

“That’s okay,” Sirius promises you. “James, can you check out that chest pain while I get a pulse?” 

The first one, who hasn’t seemed to stop smiling despite what you consider a fairly grim circumstance—though you imagine it might be run-of-the-mill in his line of work—steps to your side. The three of them move around each other so fluidly, like they can anticipate the other’s movements. Practice, you suppose. “All right, darling,” he says, the endearment rolling off his tongue with a self-assuredness you can’t relate to, and your face warms in response, “do you mind if I move your top down a bit so I can have a look?” 

You feel suddenly lightheaded. You try to nod, but the scarred one tsks at you, holding your head still with lithe fingers as he works on your cut. Thankfully, James seems to catch your meaning anyway. He’s exceedingly gentle as he wraps his fingers around the neckline of your top, pulling it into a V in the center of your chest. You follow it down with your gaze. The red line that stretches diagonally across the flat of your chest feels somewhat anticlimactic considering the deep ache that emanates from it, but James hisses sympathetically. 

“Ow,” Sirius agrees. “Yeah, looks like the seatbelt got you.” 

You try very, very hard not to think about how they’re all looking at your naked chest, all speaking to you so kindly, all touching you in their different ways. If you think too hard about any of it, you might actually die. 

“Tell me if this hurts, alright?” James looks at you before pressing down lightly with his palm. 

You start to gasp from the pain but then that hurts even worse, and your face scrunches in agony.

“Sorry, sorry.” He removes his hand hastily, putting your top back in place. “All done with that, love. It hurts when you breathe in, huh?” 

“Yeah,” you affirm croakily. 

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he says again, touching your shoulder with an apologetic smile. You’d never been mad, but you go ahead and forgive him anyway for looking at you so sweetly. “I’m going to feel if your ribs are broken, okay? I won’t push down again.” 

You don’t have the breath to give an assent and he doesn’t wait for one, slipping a large palm under your shirt—what you wouldn’t give to have that happen under different circumstances—and feeling about your sides tenderly. 

The scarred paramedic’s touch lifts from your forehead. “Okay, that’s all set. Let’s get you out of here, hm?”

“You driving, Rem?” Sirius asks, and you notice he’s finished taking your pulse but hasn’t let go of your hand, thumb stroking the inside of your wrist soothingly. 

“Mhm,” the scarred one—Rem—replies, putting away some supplies. “Did you confirm she’s in shock?”

“Yup.”

“Start an IV,” Rem instructs, and Sirius scoffs like yeah, I know and waves him off. You almost laugh at the easy familiarity of it. 

“Why do you think I’m in shock?” you ask as Rem hops out the back, presumably going to the driver’s side. 

Sirius softens. “Your pulse is a riot, pretty girl. Plus, you’re shaking like a leaf and you’ve gone a tiny bit blue” —he taps your lips with his forefinger— “right here.” 

You could pass out now. That’d be alright with you. 

James straightens, having already run his fingers probingly over both your sides. “Alright, we might have a couple of small fractures, but nothing too dire. Can I see your arm, love?” 

You give it to him unthinkingly, but tense when he starts feeling about the soft crook of your elbow with overly kind fingers. You’d think the effect of his touch would have diminished after he’d finished feeling you up underneath your shirt, but evidently not. 

“You’re okay.” Sirius mistakes your shyness for nervousness about the IV, wrapping his fingers around your chin and turning you gently to face him. His cupid bow flattens when he gives you a small smile and a shorter piece of his dark hair has slipped free of its confines, brushing his cheekbone. “You’re okay, doll. Jamie’s a pro, yeah? Just keep your eyes on me.” 

Well, if he’s gonna insist. 

[moonstruckme]

HI omg I’m in love with you and your writing and your sweet demeanor- you’re amazing!! I have a request for emt!marauders in an established relationship - with reader who is terrified of throwing up and emetophobic? Thank you!!!!

Thanks lovely <3

cw: emetophobia, mention of vomit (no description), reader has hair long enough to pull back

modern au

emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 679 words

“Dove.” There’s exhaustion in Remus’ voice, and you feel wretched for putting it there. “You’re going to feel so much better if you just get it out of your system, sweet girl.” 

“I’m fine,” you mumble, but you have to swallow after the words. The muscles in your abdomen spasm punishingly. 

“You’re not,” Sirius insists. He’s been alternatively soft and stern with you, a vacillation you know stems from worry and so you’re trying not to hold it against him. Still, Remus sets a pacifying hand on his shoulder when some of your hurt shows on your face. 

You know you’re being difficult. You’d all gone out for dinner the night before, to a nice place, and all gotten the same pasta on the server’s recommendation. It was really spectacularly good. You’re not loving it so much now, though, when you can taste it in the back of your throat, vying for exit. 

Each of the boys had thrown it up in the early morning, and you’d spent the night on the couch, the worst girlfriend in the world, listening to ocean sounds through noise-canceling headphones and trying not to think about what was happening in the bathroom. 

Now you’re still lying curled up on the couch, taking sips of coke through a straw with a tiny electric fan set up on the coffee table to blow cool air in your face. James has wormed his way underneath you so your torso is laid across his lap, one of his hands pressed protectively over the aching part of your belly, and Sirius is perched on the coffee table while Remus watches you from the armchair. 

“Baby,” Sirius tries again, “Remus is right. This sort of food poisoning doesn’t go away on its own. You won’t feel better until you let it out.” 

You make a half-suppressed whimpering sound, and James coos, rubbing your stomach. “I know,” you admit. “I just—” Mortifyingly, tears invade your vision. You press your face into the couch, but not before you see Sirius’ brow crease with sympathy. “—really don’t want to.” 

“We know, honey.” James kneads skillfully at your abdomen, working out the tight muscles. “I get that it’s really hard for you, and you’re scared, but when it’s over it’s over. You only have to do it once.” 

You nod, and hot tears clump in your lashes. You don’t trust yourself to speak anymore. You hear the bucket they’d brought into the living room for you being moved closer, but you ignore the sound. 

“You’re alright,” Remus says, voice low and sure. “You’re going to be just fine. Just let it happen, and then you don’t have to do anything else. We can all relax for the rest of the day, yeah?” 

James’ fingers press gently into your stomach, and your gasp turns into a hiccup. You lean over the bucket with a whine, and Sirius grabs your hair while James murmurs apologies and assurances one after the other. 

“There we go.” Sirius holds your hair in one hand and rubs between your shoulder blades with the other, his touch cool on your hot skin. “Good girl, let it out.” 

When you’re done Remus brings you straight to the bathroom to brush your teeth, and they all oblige you when you want to change into new pajamas regardless of your current ones being perfectly clean. 

“You’re all done.” James takes your still shaky hands once you’re feeling fresh and clean, pulling you back onto the couch and mashing a kiss onto your temple. “Proud of you, sweetheart.” 

You harumph, but cuddle up to him. It is nice to be rid of the nausea, and the clamminess of your skin was something you didn’t realize had become so oppressive until it was gone. 

“I hope you’re willing to put as much energy into snuggling as you did into making me sick,” you tell him. 

Remus pokes you with his foot for being mean, but James does look a bit sheepish as he tugs a blanket around the both of you. “Oh, absolutely. Triple that.”

[moonstruckme]

Hey bestie!! I broke my neck yesterday so I was wondering if you could do something with EMT!marauders where reader falls or something and so they have to put a cervical collar on her and just a lot of comfort? I completely understand if not and I hope you have a wonderful day!!!

Hi lovely, hope you're doing okay!! That sounds so scary, wishing you the best and thank you for requesting <3

cw: injury, restrained movement (reader has some anxiety around feeling trapped)

emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.4k words

You wake with hands on your face. 

“Easy—no, don’t move, please. My name’s James, I’m with NHS.” You take a breath, and the head attached to the hands nods encouragingly. He keeps you pressed firmly to the headrest of your seat. “That’s good, just breathe. I’m gonna pass you off to my partner behind you, okay? This is Remus.” 

Another set of gloved hands plants itself on either side of your face, fingers splayed along your jaw. You swallow, and James gives you a smile. You can’t fathom how it reaches his eyes, deep brown and magnified by a set of glasses with thick lenses. You’ve only just woken up and you already feel like you could cry.

“He’s just going to keep your head still for us. Don’t try to move, yeah?” 

You think to nod, but Remus’ grip is tight, and the mere activation of the muscles sends shooting pains down your neck. You gasp. 

“Yeah, don’t do that,” James says. He takes your hands in his. “Can you squeeze my fingers, sweetheart?” You do. “Good. Wiggle your fingers?” You do, but it feels weird. “Good.” James gives your hands a squeeze of his own. His gentleness makes something hot and panicky press at the back of your throat. 

“Alright, this is my partner Sirius.” Out of the corner of your eye, you see another man climbing in the passenger door. He grins at you, flashing canines. “He’s gonna help me put you in a brace to hold your head still.”

“Okay,” you say. Your voice comes out quiet and squeaky, but still James smiles as he opens up the plastic collar. 

“Hey, there she is. Can you tell us what’s hurting you, sweetheart?” 

“My neck.” You try to take a breath. It shakes going out. “And my hands feel tingly.” 

“Alright, that’s alright,” Remus says from behind you. His voice is low and soothing, a bit of rasp to it. “Anything else?” 

“No.” 

He adjusts his grip to let the other two put the collar around your neck, but then his touch is back. It’s starting to feel less constraining than grounding. 

“That’s not bad, all things considered. We’ll have to get you some scans to know for sure, though.” 

“Hold on, is that optimism from you, Remus?” Sirius grins, securing the velcro on one side of your neck. “He must really like you, doll.” 

“Sirius,” Remus says warningly. 

“Just making an observation. Jamesie, can you bring us the backboard?” 

“Yup.” James gives your knee a little pat and disappears from your vision. Oddly, you’re a bit nervous to be without him. 

“I’m gonna get your pulse here,” Sirius says, taking your wrist in hand. “Just keep doing what you’re doing.” 

“He means don’t move,” Remus clarifies. “You’re really doing quite well.” 

The pressure of Sirius’ gloved fingers on the inside of your wrist feels more intimate and vulnerable than it has any right to. You’re suddenly aware that you’re trembling. 

“Thanks,” you manage. “It’s not a hard job.” 

Remus chuckles behind your ear, and Sirius lets out a sharp laugh, looking up at you in surprise. 

“We don’t usually get comedians on these sort of runs,” he tells you, eyes studying your face with something between bemusement and admiration. “Remus is understating things, gorgeous. As far as horrific car accidents go, you’re killing this.” He sets your wrist back in your lap. “You’re definitely in shock, though. Are you afraid of needles?” 

“Um, not very. Why?” 

“No reason.” 

Sirius looks past you, and then James is back on your other side. 

“Hi, sweetheart. Miss me?” 

What’s humiliating is you almost had. You keep your mouth shut, smiling tersely. 

He blazes right past the joke, fiddling with things out of your view until there’s something hard poking into your thigh. “Okay, on Remus’ count Sirius and I are going to lift you so I can slide this backboard under you. Your only job is to keep being good and still for us, yeah?” 

You don’t get to respond before Sirius and James are wrapping their hands around your thighs. And then you’re not sure you can respond. Your breath freezes with the rest of you, caught in your throat, you can feel fingers digging into the soft undersides of your thighs even through your jeans. Remus counts down from three, and their grips tighten as they lift. You hiss as the muscles in your neck and back tighten instinctively, but James quickly slides the plastic board underneath you and they set you down again. 

“That’s it, well done,” Sirius murmurs as James settles his hands carefully on either side of your face. Remus lets go. 

“You doing okay?” James asks you, ducking his head a bit to see your eyes. You hope you don’t look quite so petrified as you feel. 

“Yeah,” you say. 

James’ expression doesn’t change, but his thumb makes a couple of quick, soothing strokes at your temple. “Alright, sweetheart,” he replies. “After this is the easy part, we’re just gonna get you lying down.” Remus gets out of your backseat, squeezing in your passenger door with James to grab hold of your shoulders. James looks to him and Sirius before counting down, “Three, two, one,” and they’re turning you. 

Your neck blazes with a pain that’s so sudden and acute you nearly choke on it, a strangled whimpering sound escaping you as they lower you backwards. Your back meets hard plastic. Soft shushing sounds are falling from Remus’ lips, his grip on your shoulders easing now that you’re in a more secure position. 

“We’ve got you,” he murmurs gently, the way one might to a stray kitten. “You’re alright, love, you did so well.” 

If you talk now you’ll cry. You’re sure of it. So you settle for giving him a watery smile you know isn’t believable, and he returns it nonetheless. 

You hear the ripping of velcro, and then Sirius is standing over you, passing the other end of a strap to Remus. James is still grasping your head. They start placing the straps over your chest, careful, businesslike hands lifting your arms and pulling the material taut against your sides. Your hands are lying awkwardly at your sides, and Sirius pauses to take them, placing them atop your stomach with one folded over the other. Soon your upper half is strapped down. Your heartbeat is loud in your ears.

“What are they doing?” you ask James quietly. 

“They’re just restricting your spinal movement,” he explains. “We have to make sure you don’t hurt yourself by moving, and once they’re done I can let go of your head.” 

“Oh.” You take a breath. “Okay.” 

You know they’re really helping you, just doing their jobs, but even still every tug of the straps feels like it’s restricting your airflow. You feel tight and tense. Trapped. You try to fill your lungs, but it’s useless. 

“Hey.” James’ voice is tender, and you don’t want to look at him but you don’t have much choice when he leans over you like that. You feel like a child, breathing through your mouth to try and keep tears from spilling. “Hey, it’s okay, sweetheart. What’s going on? Does something hurt?” 

You want to shake your head but you can’t, and that makes you cry harder. “No,” you squeak out. 

“Just scared?” You press your lips together, inhaling deeply to try and suppress the next sob that’s trying to break free from you. Down by your legs, you can feel Sirius and Remus moving faster to finish up. “I could certainly understand why. This is a lot, you know? But really, you’re being so great about it. We’re almost done here.” 

You close your eyes embarrassedly, you feel a strap tighten snugly around your ankles, and then James is letting your head go, wiping your tears with careful fingers. Another hand lands on your shin, rubbing soothingly. 

“We’ve gotta keep moving,” James says quietly, “to get you to the hospital, but if you need anything from us you can ask, alright?” 

You hum brokenly. 

“Alright.” He brushes a finger under your eye. You open it, and he gives you a reassuring little smile before looking to Remus and Sirius. “Ready?” 

“Yup.” Sirius’ voice is teeming with faux pep as they snap up the handles of the cot, starting to wheel you towards the ambulance. 

They lift you and all the equipment like it’s nothing, and then the sky is gone and you’re looking up at a plain gray ceiling. You’re working to steady your breathing now, counting both ways. You start to feel better. 

“There we are.” Remus sits down on a bench beside your head, stroking a knuckle over the teartracks his partner didn’t get. Sirius climbs in behind him and starts to mess with something on your other side while James swings the doors shut. “Just keep breathing like that, love. You can relax, alright? We’ve got you.” 

[moonstruckme]

omg omg omg i can see it now, reader in the hospital hooked up to an ekg and emt!maurauders after dropping someone off sees her in the room and they go in to check on her and her pulse just skyrockets and sirius is like "oh are you still in shock?" and rem is like "...i don't think so" and then they all get so flustered and reader gets flustered and fluffffffff

Thanks for requesting!

part 1 | part 2

cw: hospital, head injury, broken ribs

emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 979 words

Some of the whiplash you’d been warned about is setting in now. It’s been a few hours since the trio of unreasonably attractive paramedics had dropped you off at the hospital, and you’re stiff and sore all over. Even your knees have developed dark bruises, apparently from hitting the dashboard when you’d stopped suddenly. You don’t remember getting them. 

The other doctors and nurses who’d been assigned to your care have been nice and of course highly competent, but no one has been as kind or warm as the men who’d picked you up at the scene. Ridiculous as it is, you almost miss them. There’s nothing comforting about this place, and if you can’t have the familiarity of a loved one with you, you’d happily settle for the strangers’ compassion. 

The parade of hospital workers and concerned loved ones going past your room is endless, but you look up from your phone when someone stops abruptly in the doorway. 

Sirius lets out a quiet oof when he crashes into James from behind, Rem simply sidestepping the both of them before coming to a stop in front of your room. 

“Hey.” James grins at you. “It’s you, from the car crash.” 

“Hi.” You return his smile bashfully, and Rem gives James an exasperated look. 

“I’m sure she’d rather not be referred to as the girl from the car crash, James.” 

“Right.” James' smile goes somewhat sheepish. “Sorry.” 

“It’s fine,” you reassure him. “Thanks for…uh, everything. Earlier.” 

“You’re very welcome,” Sirius drawls, recovering from his collision and sauntering into the room. He gives you a not-so-subtle look over. “Just doing our job, dollface.” 

The monitor connected to your finger starts beeping more rapidly, and the suave confidence saps from his expression. 

“Shit, are you still in shock?” 

It starts going faster. You’re pretty sure your face is getting red too. How much trouble would you be in if you just disconnected the thing? 

“I don’t…” Rem’s eyes narrow, a second before his eyebrows raise an inch. “I don’t think so.” 

Your gulp has to be audible. 

“Oh,” Sirius says, his brow unfurrowing. He looks at you, and a smile curves his lips. “Oh.” 

“Okay, the both of you fuck off.” James comes to your defense, striding over as if to forcibly remove Sirius from your beside. “Look what you’re doing to the poor girl! Remus, you didn’t have to give her away like that.” 

“Better than her still being in shock,” Rem—or Remus, apparently—points out. 

“It’s fine, darling,” James goes on with forced breeziness. He’s looking at you with such sweetness you’d almost believe his nonchalance if not for the quick way he blabbers on. “Honestly, it’s an unfair advantage for us that you’re the only one with a heart monitor on. Though I suppose I’m lucky I don’t have one on too, or we’d be making a pretty terrible symphony in here right now.” 

It takes you a second to catch his meaning, but by the time you do he’s blushing nearly as badly as you. 

He’s tossed himself under the bus just so you wouldn’t be down there by yourself. 

You don’t know what to say to that, but a quiet thanks slips past your lips unchecked, and for reasons you cannot figure James’ smile softens in response. 

“Anytime, love. So, what’re you still doing here?” He changes the subject hastily. “They keeping you for observation or something?” 

“No, I’m just waiting for my ride to get off work,” you explain. “What are you doing here?”

Sirius grins, leaning against the wall near your bed. “We work here, babe.” 

“No, I—I know that,” you laugh. It hurts your chest, and all three boys’ expressions tense with sympathy when something in your face must reveal it. “I meant, don’t you usually work in the ambulance?”

“We just dropped off another patient,” he says, so preparedly that you suspect he knew what you were really asking the first time. “Older guy, complaining of a stomach ache.” He winks. “No competition for you, sweetness.” 

Christ. You’d thought they were bad when they’d picked you up, but it’s worse when you can actually process what they’re saying and doing. 

“Is he okay?” you ask, ignoring Sirius’ last comment. 

James gives you another one of his soft smiles. “Yeah, he’s alright. We see him like three times a week, he’s always fretting about something. But how are you, sweetheart? They treating you alright in here?”

You shrug. “I’m fine. I have some broken ribs and a concussion, like you said earlier, but I’m just glad it wasn’t worse. And of course everyone has been very nice.” 

“Glad to hear it.” Remus’ voice seems soft compared to the other two, though he more matches your volume. He perches next to you on the bed, eyebrows scrunching just a little as he looks at the stitches on your forehead. “Mmm, that’s probably going to scar.” 

“I don’t mind,” you say honestly, a second before remembering his own scars. They tug a bit as his eyebrows flick upward again, and then his lips pull into a boyish, lopsided grin. 

The monitor goes off again, and you cover your face with your hands as Sirius cackles. 

“Sorry, lovely.” Remus’ voice sounds somewhat amused too as his hand lands on your shoulder, squeezing delicately. “We’ll get out of your hair so you can rest.” 

“Thank you,” you say into your hands, removing them only once his weight lifts from the bed. 

Sirius won’t stop laughing, not looking abashed even when Remus grabs him by the collar of his shirt and drags him along on his trajectory out of the room. 

“Get well,” James says, walking backwards to follow them and giving you a smile that seems to contain, impossibly, equal parts mirth and earnestness. “I’d say I hope to see you around here again, but best not, huh?”

[moonstruckme]

Just thinking about reader being in the position of having to take care of poly emt!marauders 🥹 whether they’re physically hurt or just mentally /physically tired, reader is there for them!!!! Instant self care night and spoiling the boys to the max, anything to make them feel better and help prevent work burnout. Reader may not be a medical professional but def knows how to take care of the boys individually and together <3

Thanks for requesting love <3

emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 931 words

You’ve been waiting to hear someone’s key in the door for the past half hour. You feel oddly like you’re preparing for guests, having gone out to get a bunch of food and drinks you don’t always keep stocked and making sure all the blankets are washed for when the boys get home. You’re almost nervous. 

James had texted you a few hours from the end of their shift to warn you that the other boys might be in a dour mood when they got home. He was sparing with the details and naturally showed no concern for his own mental state, but you gather it was a rough day. You know it’s bound to happen, in your boyfriends’ line of work, but it still breaks your heart when it happens to them. You wish desperately that you could sequester them in their own little bubble of happiness, where none of the bad things in the world can touch them. God knows they deserve it. 

A key twists in the front door, and you all but jump up, hurrying to fetch the blankets from the dryer. 

“Hi, angel,” James calls into the house, false cheer in every note of his voice. 

“Hi,” you reply from behind an armful of blankets. “How are you, loves?” 

Sirius looks sullen, but Remus manages a half-smile. “Been a bit better,” he says, “but alright.” 

“Yeah, I heard.” You deposit the blankets in a heap on the couch, walking over to Sirius and snaking your arms around his middle. 

“I tattled,” James says to Remus’ inquisitive look. Remus only hums. 

Sirius’ strong arms bind you tightly to his front, his face pressing into the juncture of your shoulder and your neck. “Thanks,” he murmurs into your skin. 

You pet his hair. “Do you guys feel like watching a movie? I got snacks. Or we could have a shower?” You’re rambling a bit, but it’s hard to stop. “Or if you just feel like going to bed, I get that too. I washed the sheets.” 

Remus takes a big breath. Gives you another smile. “That all sounds so nice, dovey. I’m game for a movie.” 

You smile back at him, giving Sirius a good squeeze before releasing him. “Alright, settle in on the couch,” you instruct. “I’m going to go grab some things from the kitchen.” 

“I’ll help,” James says instantly, making to follow you. But you turn around, setting your hands on his chest. 

“Go sit down,” you tell him gently. “I’ve got it.” 

He raises his eyebrows at you but does, pivoting back towards the couch. 

“Fuck, it smells good in here,” Sirius says, and you smile to yourself. You’d lit his favorite candles an hour before you knew they’d be getting home. 

“These blankets are so warm.” James is snuggling up underneath one when you come back in, Sirius having made himself comfortable in the space between Remus’ legs. You start distributing snacks. 

“They just came out of the dryer,” you say. 

“Sweetheart.” Sirius looks at you, his gray eyes already a bit less solemn. There’s a few dozen thank yous and I love yous wrapped up in that one word. You give him a little smile to let him know you hear them. 

You’ve gotten Remus a few different kinds of chocolate, and his lips part in surprise when you dump them all on the coffee table in front of him. You wanted him to be well supplied. If anyone broke Remus’ heart, you’re positive chocolate would come spilling out. 

“Does anyone want tea or hot chocolate or anything?” you ask. 

James shakes his head, and Remus says, “We’re well stocked here.” His voice is soft, warm with fondness. “Sit down with us.” 

You cozy up to James’ side, letting him tuck you underneath an arm and trying not to mind that he smells a bit like hospital. Remus lets Sirius pick the movie, a testament to how upset they must all be, and you nose affectionately at James’ cheek. 

“Do you want to have a shower?” you ask him quietly. “I know you usually like to wash the day off of you.” 

“I will soon,” he replies, turning his face to smear a kiss across your forehead, “but I think I just want to do this for a little while first. Be with you guys.” You look up at him, and he smiles, seraphim. “You’ve really prepared quite the setup for us, haven’t you?” 

You turn your cheek into his chest, having a hard time congratulating yourself when your boyfriends all seem so heartbreakingly glum. “I know you’ve had a hard day,” you tell him.

“Mm.” James drops another kiss on the top of your head, giving you a heart-aching squeeze. “Well thanks, angel. This is really nice.” 

You look at Remus and Sirius on the other end of the couch, the latter with his cheek squished up against your boyfriend’s chest, scrolling through options on the TV while the former wipes a smudge of chocolate from the corner of his mouth. You tilt your head back to see James. His eyes are a bit wearier than usual behind his glasses as he smiles down at you. 

“Are you okay?” you ask softly. 

His smile falters, brows pulling up a bit in the middle at the concern heavying your tone. He rubs your upper arm, and you wriggle your arms around his waist in return, hugging him awkwardly. 

“Yeah,” he tells you, no false lightness undercutting the candor in his voice. “We’ll be fine, sweetheart. We’ve got everything we need right here.” 

[moonstruckme]

Hii i recently discovered your account and i am devouring all your marauder works! They bring me so much comfort and just ahh i love the way you write! I really like emt!marauders and i was wondering if you maybe wanted to do a fic with them and a reader who has health anxiety?? And maybe she gets sick or something and they help her calm her thoughts and fears and just take care of her?? Only if this is something you would want to write ofc :) have a lovely day!! 💗

Thank you lovely <3

cw: health anxiety

emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words

“Here you go, m’love.” James sits between you and Remus, holding your tea towards you with the handle out. “Careful, it’s hot.” 

You grab it quickly. “Jamie!” You suck in a thoughtless breath, setting off your cough. “Don’t—don’t burn yourself!”

You set the tea down before you spill it, James patting between your shoulder blades while you cover your mouth with a tissue. 

“Easy,” he says. “I wasn’t holding it for long, don’t hack up a lung on my account.” 

Remus doesn’t disagree, but he takes the offending hand and kisses James’ fingertips lightly. 

You take a breath as the fit settles, picking up your tea with a quiet thanks and continuing to read on your phone. 

“What’re you looking at so frownily?” Sirius asks, tilting his head where he’s sprawled out on the armchair. 

“Just reading,” you murmur, but he casts a suspicious look to the other two on the couch. James leans over, peering at your screen. 

He laughs. “Sweetheart, you know this stuff will only stress you out,” he says, leaning his shoulder into yours amicably. “You’ve gotta trust us, we’d be able to tell if it was anything serious.” 

“WebMD?” Sirius asks. 

“Healthline,” Remus replies, craning his neck to see behind James. 

“I know,” you ignore the other two, replying to James, “but I was talking to my grandma today and she—” Sirius groans, letting his head loll back against the cushion. “—she said this is exactly what it was like when she had pneumonia.” 

Remus looks at you evenly. “How old is your grandmother?” 

You take a sip of tea, hiding behind the rim of your mug. “Eighty-six.” 

He gives you a weary half-smile. “Pneumonia is a lot more common in older adults, dove. And your cough doesn’t sound like pneumonia anyway.” 

“But how do you know?” you ask anxiously. Remus’ features tighten a bit in sympathy. “I just don’t want to have it and have no idea, and then it gets worse and worse and worse.” 

James takes your hand in his. “That makes sense, angel, but—”

“And then while I was looking, stuff was also coming up for whooping cough, which sounds horrific—”

“You don’t have whooping cough,” Remus says. 

“But what if I do?” Your voice scratches a bit, and you try to breathe more shallowly to avoid a fit. “Because if that’s what it is, then it’s super contagious and you guys shouldn’t even be around me. And you can start throwing up and—” Your cough catches up with you, and you cover your mouth, eyes watering. Remus and Sirius both wince, James’ hand finding your back again. It’s nice, when you’re sick and miserable like this, to be around people who are so accustomed to it. Who will reach for you instead of cringing away. 

“It’s okay,” James murmurs, palm big and heavy between your shoulder blades. “You’re fine, sweetheart, just take a minute.” 

When it ebbs, he passes you your tea silently. The honey in it coats your throat, the warmth soothing the ache in your chest. 

“I just don’t want it to be more serious than we think,” you say weakly. “There’s a lot of things it could be that are worse than just a cold.” 

“Baby,” Sirius says firmly. “Look at me.” 

You lower your mug, finding your scariest boyfriend considering you with his usual intensity. He tilts his head to the side, brushing a piece of dark hair behind his ear. 

“Did you have your jabs when you were little?” 

You feel your brow pucker worriedly. “I think so.” 

His tone gentles a bit. “Then you can’t have whooping cough, darling. We all get vaccinated for it when we’re small.” 

You don’t want to argue with him, but your eyes flit back to your phone. “Actually, it says we can still get it even if we’ve been vaccinated.” 

“But not nearly as bad,” James says, squeezing your shoulder lightly. “You’re right, it could seem like a regular cold in that case, but it really wouldn’t turn into anything worse than that. None of the vomiting or anything like that.” 

You swallow, nodding. “Okay. Okay, that makes sense.”

“We know there’s a lot of things a cold could turn into,” Remus says. “Trust me, dove, we know. The reason we’re not worried is because we also know exactly what those would look like if they did turn up, and we could get you to the hospital at the first sign of something serious. Also, the serious things are less common than you might think.” 

“Yeah, there’s a reason it’s called the common cold,” Sirius jokes, shooting you a wink. 

You smile back, partly for his sake and partly for yours. Remus fixes you with a soft, open look. 

“I promise to tell you if we notice anything,” he says, slowly, making sure you hear the weight of every word. “Do you want to talk about pneumonia?” 

You nibble your lip, unsure. 

“If you’re still worried about it, we should talk about it,” James says. “We don’t want you to just be stressed out and silent, angel.” 

You blow out a careful breath. “Okay. I’m coughing up dark mucus and have a fever, which seems like pneumonia. How do we know it’s not?” 

“Pneumonia could have mucus or no mucus,” James tells you, as though reciting from a textbook. “And as for your fever…” He takes your face between his hands, pressing his lips firmly to your forehead. “My gauge tells me it’s still not that severe.” 

You grin at his antics, ducking your head when he goes for more so that he’s forced to confine his affections to your hair. He makes a gleeful sound of protest, grabbing you around the middle to get you closer. 

“Don’t knock her tea,” Remus warns.

“I can run you through the checklist we sometimes use before testing for pneumonia,” Sirius offers. You nod, and he launches in. “Do you have shortness of breath?” You think, then shake your head. “Chest pain? Sweating or shaking? Fatigue—well, fatigue is a yes, right? Don’t worry, doll, that’s a symptom of everything—Chills? Nausea, vomiting, or diarrhea?”

Your mouth puckers in distaste at the last few, but you shake your head to all of them and Sirius spreads his hands magnanimously. “There we go,” he says. “If you were in an ambulance right now, we’d be telling you not to waste time on getting pneumonia tests done.”

“Plus, your cough doesn’t sound like it,” Remus adds, somewhat smugly. 

“Okay,” you relent. “I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be sorry.” James sweeps a thumb over your ribs, stamping a kiss on your temple. “You can’t help worrying about these things. We just wish the internet didn’t give you so much material, you know?” His eyebrows go up a bit in the middle and he strokes your side again, more gently this time. “You should be allowed to focus on getting better, sweetheart. All this anxiety doesn’t make for great rest.” 

You let yourself sink into his side, cradling your mug in your hands. “I just don’t want to badger you guys with questions all day.” 

“We don’t mind,” Remus promises you. 

“And I’d like to think we have a bit more experience under our belts than healthline,” Sirius scoffs. The teasing look he sends you lets you know his derision isn’t for you. “Anyway, what does healthline say you’re supposed to do if you have pneumonia?” 

You scroll down a bit. “See a medical professional.” 

“Well, lucky you.”

[moonstruckme]

Girlllllll I'm literally obsessed with emt!Marauders. Could you maybe write one where the reader is at their apartment for dinner or something, and starts to have a panic attack, and thinks they're dying and gets the Marauders because they believe they're having a heart attack? Thanks :)

Thanks for requesting love!

cw: panic attack

emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words

At first you mistake the pounding on the door for your heartbeat. It thunders in your chest, beating against your rib cage like it's vying for escape. But then the sound comes again, and you remember than you actually did go through with making the call. 

You go to get the door, opening it to find a startlingly attractive paramedic wiping his shoes on your mat. Dark eyebrows rise, disappearing behind a mop of curly hair, when he sees you. 

“You look a bit young for a heart attack,” he says. 

“James, don’t fuck around.” Another man, taller, shoulders past him carrying a medical bag. “You called emergency services?” he asks you. You nod mutely, having discovered over the phone that talking only makes your chest hurt worse. “Alright, can we come in?” 

You nod again, backing away from the door to give them room to enter. A third paramedic follows, immediately taking you by the elbow and guiding you over to your own couch. “Hi, doll, I’m Sirius. What’s your name?” 

You wheeze out an answer, sitting when Sirius encourages you downward. He seems unperturbed by your agitated state, smiling as he crouches in front of you. Any other time, the effect would be heart-stopping. You wish it worked like that now. 

“Y/n, do you have a family history of heart problems? Any pre-existing conditions?” You shake your head no to both, and he nods calmly. “Okay, but you think you’re having a heart attack, huh?” 

You press a hand to your chest, tears invading your vision as the other paramedic—James, you’d heard him called—squats beside Sirius, looking at you concernedly. 

“It hurts,” you croak out. 

“Got it,” James reassures you. He passes a pair of gloves to Sirius, who begins wiggling them on. “When did it start to hurt? Did anything happen that might’ve caused it?” 

“I don’t think so,” you shake your head. Your lungs feel like they could collapse in on themselves at any moment, but James holds your gaze, grounding you. “It just—I was making dinner, and it just started.” 

“I understand,” he says, voice soothing. “Okay, I’m pretty sure I know what’s going on here. You’re having a panic attack, sweetheart.” You must look anguished at the lack of validation for your hurt, because James sets a gloved hand on your forearm, rubbing comfortingly. “It’s really scary, I know, but you’re not dying. We’re gonna get you feeling better, alright?” 

You want to trust him, you really do, but everything in your body is contradicting him right now. You’re dying, you know it. You can feel it in your bones. A tear spills out of your eye. 

“It’s all right,” he promises you. “Listen, this here is Remus, he’s going to help get you breathing a bit better for us, yeah?” The second paramedic, the one who’d come in with the bag, sits down on the couch beside you. He gives you a small smile, the myriad of small and large scars across his face shifting with the movement. James gives your arm a solid pat. You try not to jolt. “You’re in good hands, I promise.” 

“Hi, are you comfortable?” Remus asks you. He has a gentle sort of voice, a bit raspy but soft where it counts. 

You’re sitting with both feet flat on the floor, your hands in your lap like you’re a guest in someone else’s house. This all seems a bit more polite than you were expecting. It’s missing the urgency of blaring sirens and shouting voices you’d forced yourself to mentally prepare when you’d made the call for help. You feel horribly stiff, but you nod at Remus anyway, because you’re not sure comfortable is something you can find right now. 

A small furrow appears between his brows. “Are you sure? You can sit however feels best for you, love, we’ll move around to accommodate you.” 

You shift around awkwardly, bringing your feet onto the couch with your knees near your chest. Remus gives you a rewarding smile. 

“Good, good. Okay, we’re just going to try to slow your breathing down a bit, yeah?” He takes your hand in his kindly, touching your palm to his chest. “It might be hard at first, but try to copy me, please.” 

He inhales deeply, and you manage maybe half of what he does before the air comes whooshing back out of you. A sob works its way up in your chest. You don’t know how there’s still room for anything else in there. 

“It’s okay, you’re fine,” Remus says. His thumb strokes over the back of your hand. “We just have to keep going, it’ll get easier.” 

You want desperately for him to be right, and he is. You’re not sure how much time passes with Remus holding your hand to his chest, breathing for the both of you, but eventually you’re able to mimic him. He starts counting, four in, hold for four, and then four out, encouraging you every step of the way. 

You feel a pressure on the inside of your wrist. You look down, but Remus catches your chin in his hand. “You’re all right, love, James is just getting your vitals. You’re doing so well, keep going.” 

You do your best to keep focussed on him, ignoring the occasional prodding or the feel of cool metal against your back. The pain in your chest eases to a dull ache. Soon, you’re no longer straining to hear over the blood rushing past your ears. 

“Alright.” Your concentration breaks at the sound of a voice to your left, and you look over to see Sirius coming through the door. You hadn’t realized he’d left. “We’re all set in the back, how are we doing in here?” 

“Pretty good,” Remus says, giving your hand a kind squeeze before letting it drop from his chest. His voice takes on a wry quality as he turns to Sirius. “Could’ve been better if you hadn’t distracted her, but now I suppose we’ll never know.” 

“Sorry.” Your voice sounds hoarse and torn up. 

Remus looks at you with something close to alarm, but Sirius speaks before he can. “Oh, it’s nothing to do with you, dollface, he just likes giving me shit.” He steps forward, peering at you. “You look tons better. No gurney, then?” 

“Don’t think so,” James says, and you look down to find him crouched at your side, draping a stethoscope back over his neck. “Heart rate’s coming down with breathing, and it doesn’t seem like anything else is amiss. Should be an easy ride.” He looks at you, warm brown eyes melting you like wax. “Think you can walk out to the ambulance, sweetheart?” 

“I—sure, yeah.” You stand on shaky legs, and both Remus and James stand with you, hands hovering in case you need them. You feel so pathetically frail you almost want to laugh. “Um, why are we going to the ambulance?” 

“We’re just going to bring you to the hospital to make sure there’s nothing else wrong,” Remus says. “It’s nothing to worry about, just precautionary stuff.” 

“But I’m—I’m okay, right?” 

“We think so,” James reassures you, taking your elbow to help you off the curb by the ambulance. “Do you not feel okay?” 

“I feel better,” you say uncertainly. “It’s just…” You bring your hands up closer to your face. They’re trembling gently, just like the rest of you. “I can’t stop.”

“That’s totally normal,” Remus promises. James abandons your side to hop into the ambulance, reaching down to help you up, and Remus’ hands ghost over your waist as you clamber inside. He climbs up after you. “You might also have some muscle soreness, nausea, fatigue. It’s probably all just your body coming down from the attack, but you should still tell us, okay?” 

“Okay,” you echo, nodding. “Yeah, I’m really tired.” 

“That’s fine, sweetheart.” James rubs your shoulder warmly, encouraging you to sit on the gurney in the center of the ambulance. “You can take a little nap on the way if you gotta. I’ll wake you when we get there.”

[moonstruckme]

Hi!!! Love your work :) I was curious if you would do an emt!marauders where the reader hurts her back and like can’t move well or feel like her hands or feet? And they comfort her and do everything they can to help? I had this happen last night and it sent me to the er. It was terrifying but I’m cuddled up on my couch today and could use some comfort. 🤍

Hi, thank you! I'm really sorry to hear that happened to you lovely, I hope you're doing alright now! The google search for that stuff was a bit scary

cw: back pain, numbness

emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

Sirius is fairly sure your tears are brought on more by fear than pain, but that doesn’t help the upset in his own chest as he leans over you, kissing them off your cheeks. 

“Just try to relax. You’ll be alright.” 

“I can’t move.” You’re weeping, begging him to understand. You have to be terrified. 

“I know,” he says softly, soothing his thumbs over your damp cheeks. “I know, darling, but the best thing you can do right now is try to ease up. The more panicked you are, the more your muscles will tense.”

You hum your understanding wobbily, and Sirius gives you a smile for your efforts. You’d woken a few minutes ago in obvious agony, gasping in pain as soon as you’d tried to roll over. It had come on seemingly overnight, and waking up with a giant, mysterious pain is already a scary thing without it paralyzing you too. Sirius gets why you’re having a hard time calming yourself down. 

“Alright, here we are.” Remus comes in with an electric heating pad, kneeling to plug it in by the bed. “It’s only your back that hurts, right?” 

“Yeah,” you say uncertainly, “but I can’t really—ah, shit—” You squeeze your eyes shut as Sirius helps Remus get the pad under you, both working as quickly as they can before setting you back against the mattress. You breathe for a few moments while Sirius murmurs apologies and kisses the shell of your ear.

“Can’t really what, dove?” Remus asks gently, taking your hand to run his thumb over your knuckles. 

Your voice is fraught with pain. “I can’t really feel my hands or feet.” 

Remus and Sirius exchange a look. 

“Where in your back did you say the pain was?” Sirius asks. 

You look like you want to shrug, but thankfully think the better of it. “I don’t know, kind of lower down? It’s hard to tell.” 

Remus hums, lips pursed as his thumb moves back and forth over your knuckles thoughtfully. “Could be a pinched nerve,” he says.

“Or something worse,” Sirius contests. “We ought to bring her in.” 

“I’m not going anywhere,” you insist, desperation sharp in your voice. 

Sirius frowns, but Remus is a diplomat, squeezing your fingers reassuringly and giving you a noncommittal, “We’ve got time to figure that out. Do you think you could eat, honey? I want to give you painkillers, but you should have something in your stomach first.” 

You look hesitant, weighing the cost of sitting up to eat with the benefits of pain pills. Before you can come to a decision, the sound of the front door opening reaches you. 

“Hello!” James calls, back from the gym. “I’ve brought surprises.” 

Despite the worry that’s plagued your morning, all three of you crack a smile at his cheerful voice. 

“Edible surprises?” Sirius yells back, at the same time as Remus says, “We’re in here.” 

James' footsteps grow closer. “Must be a slow morning, if you’re all still lazing around.” He grins as he enters, holding up a paper bag. “And yes, they’re edible. I stopped by—” He goes to flop down beside you on the bed, and both Sirius and Remus lunge to stop him, Sirius saying “No no no!” until James freezes, eyes going wide. 

“Okay, got it.” He holds his hands up, paper bag still in his grasp. “What’s the deal?” He looks between you, brows puckering when his eyes land on your tear-stained cheeks. “Hey, are you okay?” 

“Yeah,” you manage, and he discounts you immediately, looking to the other two. 

“She’s strained her back somehow,” Remus explains. 

James’ lips purse sympathetically. “I’m sorry, angel. Does it hurt terribly?” 

“Not too bad,” you say, but once again you’re undermined, Sirius giving him a look that says otherwise. 

“Just try not to jostle her,” Sirius says, pouting as he pets your head pityingly. “We were just about to scrounge up something to eat. What’d you bring?” 

“Muffins from the corner store.” James recovers his cheer but it’s still dampened by a bit of worry. He gives the bag to Sirius to sort through. “Is she going to the doctor?” 

“She doesn’t think so,” Sirius says, claiming a blueberry muffin for himself. 

“She can’t even move,” you argue. 

“If only she had any strapping boyfriends to carry her.” He passes a banana nut muffin to Remus. “Lemon poppyseed, darling?” 

“Sure.” Your huffy tone is at odds with the slow, careful way you reach for it, wary of hurting your back by the movement. Sirius holds it towards you patiently, but all your caution is for naught when you try to grasp it and it falls right out of your useless hand. 

You look like you might cry again. Sirius’ heart lurches, but James sets his muffin aside to pick up yours. He breaks off a little piece and holds it to your mouth, laughing when you look at it hesitantly. 

“Come on, angel, people do this to be sexy all the time.” 

“It’s not sexy when one of them’s an invalid,” you complain, but open your mouth to let James feed you the bite. 

“You’re not an invalid,” Remus chides lightly. “You’re just having a bit of back pain.” 

“When it’s you, we’ll see about calling it ‘a bit.’” 

“I don’t think going to a doctor is such a bad idea,” James says, breaking off another piece of your muffin. “We can do our best for you here, but we won’t know what’s causing it for sure until you get tests done.” 

“Listen,” you say, swallowing a bite, “whether one of you carries me or I walk in there myself, it’s going to hurt. The only half comfortable place right now is this bed, and the last thing I want is for people to be touching me.” 

Remus looks down to where he’s still holding your hand, and you tighten your grip. “People other than you guys,” you amend quietly. 

He gives you a smile. You return it hesitantly. “Alright,” Remus says, “what if we wait until the afternoon and reassess?” You look quite happy with that, and Sirius rolls his eyes, grinning despite himself. He strokes a knuckle down the side of your face lovingly. “Is the heating pad helping at all, dove?” 

“I think so,” you reply hopefully. Sirius narrows his eyes at you, not quite able to tell whether you’re being truthful or merely saying whatever will get you out of having to get checked out. “Pain relievers would still be great, though.” 

“Finish your muffin first,” Remus says, but goes to get them from the medicine cabinet. 

You let James feed you another bite, murmuring a quiet, “Thanks, Jamie.” 

“No problem, lovie. My mum always said I’d do well working in a nursing home.” 

Sirius cackles. You do too, so hard it you end up gasping in pain. Your face is wet all over with kisses before James is willing to consider it made up.

[moonstruckme]

poly!marauders drabbles (1/2)

cont.

☁︎ = headcanon ✩ = 18+, mdni ♡ = mae's favs

The marauders are fascinated with their artist!gf ☁︎

The marauders reassure you when you're insecure in your relationship

Marauders x a reader who's hyper-independent ♡

The boys get jealous of your new friend

You give them gifts for your one-month anniversary

The marauders love their individualized pet names

Overprotective!marauders when you sneak out to a party ♡

They think you're breaking up with them after an argument

The boys help when you're having period cramps

Poly!marauders x sunshine!reader

Poly!marauders x overwhelmed sunshine!reader

You worry others are judging your relationship, and the boys comfort you

They help you when you dissociate

You tell the boys you love them (and you get there first)

A calm, domestic morning with the marauders ♡

A semi-calm, domestic night

You get an anxious stomachache, and they help

The marauders discover Target

Poly!marauders and casual dominance

The boys keep coming to your work (totally not to flirt with you)

Poly!marauders x Slytherin!reader who's stressed about school

You don't realize you're flirting, but they don't not like it

The boys are shocked when you swear

The boys are not at all shocked when you swear

They react to you flinching during an argument

The boys help when you have an allergic reaction

There's no way the marauders are flirting with you (except they are)

Poly!marauders x plus size!reader when you're feeling insecure

They learn that sometimes you just need time alone

Your boyfriends think your plushies are adorable

The boys help with your pre-presentation anxiety

They think you're gorgeous with or without glasses

Apocalypse au

When you're reunited ♡ Dancing around the fire You get hypothermia

You all take care of Remus before a full moon

platonic!marauders (+Lily) help you decorate your apartment

The boy help (some more than others) when you can't say what you mean

You and the marauders choose your group Halloween costume

Rockstar!marauders x rockstar!reader

They love your curly hair

The marauders when you come back to school seeming fragile

They take care of you when you're sick

Sleepy aftercare with bratty!reader ♡

The boys comfort you after a panic attack

Poly!marauders x tall!reader when you're insecure about your height

You and the boys figure out you want to be together

They react to you crying over a book

Protective!marauders watch out for you at a party

Poly!marauders x hyperactive!reader

The boys are (lovingly) exasperated when you forget your meds

Roommate!marauders when you come home tipsy

They realize you've been hiding your food

Your boyfriends comfort you before a trip to the doctor

The marauders love your fancy socks

Plus size!reader and shying away from touch

Sirius and you gush about your boyfriends in French

Bodyguard!marauders with sunshine!reader ♡

Bodyguard!marauders when you keep sneaking off

They're casually dominant when you're stressed out ♡

Poly!marauders x (raccoon)animagus!reader

The boys make a competition of abstinence

They worry when you spend too long in the rain

Your first morning with the marauders

You come out to the boys as non-binary

When you and James come home drunk ♡

They throw you a surprise party

You are not on the same page about shower temperatures

You all have a talk about self-harm

The marauders do their damndest to flummox shy!reader (it's not hard)

You hide a black eye from them

Tall!reader teases the boys

They talk you through a friend breakup

They comfort you after you hit an animal with your car

You and the boys enjoy a domestic time during the holidays ♡

You all oggle James

Emt!marauders (see the continued masterlist for more)

They come to your rescue after a car accident ♡ | cont. Your boyfriends are called after a mishap at work Your boyfriends help when you hurt your back You call an ambulance when you're having a panic attack Your boyfriends comfort you through vertigo ♡ Your boyfriends come get you after an accident

The boys comfort you when you don't get into your top school

Short!reader teams up with Remus to give the other boys shit

They want you to let them comfort you after a nightmare

The marauders love your weight gain ♡

Your boyfriends learn about social burnout

The boys coddle a touched starved!you ♡

Roommate!marauders get a teensy bit jealous during a night out

Whimsical!reader tries some alternative healing methods

They bring you, high and giggly, to an aquarium

You want your boyfriends to take charge

You have chronic pain, and they know how to take care of you ♡

Sleepy aftercare with the boys ✩

Your boyfriends know how to share ✩

They reassure you it's okay to have boundaries ✩