my dead gay wizards

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[managedmischiefs]

welcome to my beautiful blog!

learn a little bit more about me below

-twenty three years old

-peace sign bisexual

-working as a bridal consultant selling wedding dresses!

-i have a degree in creative writing and in theater

-currently obsessions are harry potter and the marauders, tom holland, taylor swift, tiny ducks, greys anatomy

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[lqveharrington]

Professor Lupin

summary: You and Remus are married, and it just so happens that Dumbledore has hired him to be Hogwarts new DADA professor while you already work at Hogwarts as Madam Pomfrey’s assistant.

pairing: Remus Lupin x professor(?)!healer!reader

includes: MAJOR FLUFF, you and snape act like children, remus being the best husband, the golden trio being the golden trio, making out, essentially everything you could find in any HP fic, minimal use of Y/N

a/n: I’m rereading the HP series and I forgot how much love I had for Remus 🩷

You and Remus had known each other since you accidentally tripped in front of him during your first year at Hogwarts—well, more like fell into his back on the express going to Hogwarts. Granted, you weren’t looking where you were going, but it’s not like he was supposed to be standing in the halls for that long. No matter, the two of you have always been as thick as thieves since then, and it wasn’t a surprise to anyone when you began dating during your sixth year and eventually got married soon after graduating. 

And when you had your heart set on becoming a healer—specifically one for Hogwarts—Remus was your number one supporter. He was your backbone during the NEWTs in your seventh year and during your training at St. Mungo’s. Remus was always there when you needed a breather. Then, when Dumbledore hired you as Madam Pomfrey’s assistant, he was the first one to congratulate you on the achievement.

Moreover, you were always there when he needed support, too. During the first wizarding war, there were so many casualties that it was impossible to count them. And when James and Lily died, you were the first to comfort Remus—especially when it was brought up that Sirius might have been the one to expose their whereabouts to Voldemort and even kill Peter when he tried to defend the Potters. 

You weren’t close with James and Lily, but Remus was their best friend, and you knew losing nearly all his friends in a span of a few days hurt like hell. It took a lot of love and reassurance to get Remus to get out of your shared bedroom and get ready for their funerals. 

Nevertheless, it was trials like those that made the two of you the perfect pair. But something always ate at your insides. Since Remus was a werewolf, no one in the wizarding world would want him to work for them. Even if he never told them about his condition, they could easily piece together why he would disappear from work every full moon. 

Remus told you he didn’t mind staying home and caring for the house, but you swore you saw the light in his eyes dim a little more every time he came back from an unsuccessful job hunt. So—against your better judgment—you sought out Dumbledore after a term at Hogwarts, when another Defense Against the Dark Arts professor had been sacked. 

“Professor Dumbledore, sir!” You chased after him after you watched the last student leave the castle, smiling up at him with the same smile from your own years at Hogwarts. “Sir, I think I have the perfect replacement for the DADA position.”

Dumbledore hummed and waved his hand, lighting the rest of the candles in the corridor. “How many times have I told you to call me Albus? We work together, Y/N.”

“Sorry, sir— Albus.” You correct yourself before shaking your head. Twisting your wedding ring, you spoke up with a sparkle in your eyes. “As I was saying before, I think—”

“I know you want me to hire Remus for the job.” He cut you off, putting a hand up when you were about to speak up again. “I believe that’s a wonderful idea. And given what he is, I’m sure he knows all about what should be taught to the students.”

You beam up at him, “I’m glad we’re on the same page then, sir—Albus.” You correct yourself once more when he stares at you intently, your face flushing before clearing your throat. “Sorry, it’s a habit already… I should probably tell him—”

“Do not worry about telling him about the job, Y/N,” Dumbledore said calmly, patting your shoulder. “I will handle telling him when the time comes.”

What you didn’t expect was that Dumbledore practically waited until the very end of the summer holiday to inform Remus about the available position at Hogwarts. Every day, it became more and more evident that you knew something was going to happen. Even when Remus questioned your odd behavior, you simply brushed him off and kissed him silly until he forgot what he asked. 

Well, up until Dumbledore told him. 

“Dovey, you won’t believe who I ran into at Diagon Alley.” Remus entered the living room with paper bags, kissing your cheek when you took them from him and thanked him for buying ingredients you needed for remedies Madam Pomfrey requested you make over the holiday. 

You furrow your brows in response to him, waving your wand and sorting the different ingredients alphabetically. “Who, Rem?”

“Dumbledore.” He stated and leaned back on the counter, watching your shoulder stiffen before they relaxed once more. Remus thought you couldn’t be more obvious, but he still played along. “He offered me a position at the school as the Defense Against Dark Arts professor.”

“Did he?” You murmur, refusing to turn around because you knew your eyes would give you away. You felt him get closer, his arms snaking around your waist, causing you to tilt your head in his direction, begging Godric that your eyes weren’t hinting at anything too revealing. 

He hummed, “He said a little bird told him I’ve been lonely back home.”

“Lonely?” You scoffed and pulled away from him, putting your hands on your hips. “I did not call you lonely.” 

Remus raised a brow at you—watching your face go from defensive to horrified to sheepish. He was probably more surprised than you when apologies began spilling from your lips, making him hold your arms to stop your rambling. 

“Why are you apologizing?” He rubbed soft shapes into your arms. 

“Because I offered you up for the job even when I didn’t ask you.” You murmured, pulling on the ends of your sweater. Well, technically, it was his sweater that you promptly stole from him one day. “I understand if you don’t want to take the position. I just thought—”

“Don’t be sorry. This is good.” He nudged his nose to yours, making you look up. 

You blink and look between his eyes, searching for any kind of lie. “This… is?”

Remus chuckled and kissed your forehead, his chest rumbling when you went to wipe off the kiss in confusion, thinking it was a pity kiss. “Dovey, you and Dumbledore are the only ones left who still believe in me.” He shrugged. “I think this is a great opportunity.”

“You’re not mad?”

“Of course not.” He creased his brows together before balancing himself when you threw your arms around him, his hands splaying on your back carefully. Before he could ask, you spoke, your mood greatly improved from when you thought you were in trouble. 

“I’m excited to work with you, Rem.” You smiled brightly when you pulled away, punching his arm lightly. “You’ll love it just as much as you did all those years ago.”

Unfortunately, you weren’t the only other employee at Hogwarts. While McGonagall was happy to have Remus as a professor—mainly because he was a star student back when he attended Hogwarts himself, and she trusted him to teach a class such as Defense Against the Dark Arts—Snape was anything but joyous to have him teaching a subject he wanted for himself. 

“You have to be joking.” Severus drawled as he looked between you and Remus before his eyes settled on the headmaster himself. He sighed through his nose, “Albus, I simply cannot allow a werewolf to teach the students as you put them in danger—”

“Remus knows exactly what to do during his transformations.” You defend your husband, standing in front of him despite his warm hand on your waist to calm your fire, even though Remus wanted nothing more than to hide in the shadows of Dumbledore’s office. “And we both know wolfsbane is the perfect solution to his lycanthropy, Snape. Unless you want him to suffer just so you can teach—”

“Enough.” Dumbledore put a hand up, silencing whatever argument you and Severus had left. “You have been working together for several years, and only when Remus begins working here do the two of you begin arguing like first-year students.” He looked at the man mentioned with a soft smile before staring down at you and Severus through his moon-shaped spectacles. “While Remus teaches here, you cannot act like this, do you understand?”

You sigh and nod, crossing your arms while Severus begrudgingly agrees, somesort of grunt leaving his mouth. Still, the two of you glared at each other as if Dumbledore hadn’t said anything. Remus pursed his lips in discomfort and kissed your temple in an attempt to diffuse the tension between the two of you, causing Severus to finally look away with a grimace. 

“I expect you three will be responsible and respectful this year.” Dumbledore finished in expectancy before sending you all out of the office with a simple wave of his hand. 

The three of you descended his office, the pressure between the three of you still heavily weighted down until Severus spun around abruptly. He briefly looked at you before sighing again, his eyes trained on Remus with bitterness.

“Don’t expect me to be at your beck and call, Lupin.” He sneered before taking his own leave toward the dungeons, his cloak following behind like a foreboding shadow.

You scoff under your breath, “Arsehole.”

“Dovey.” Remus suppressed a laugh, shaking his head. “Let’s go home.”

The following week was hectic for you and Remus. Having to move his stuff over to yours—now your shared quarters at Hogwarts, and then planning lessons that the last two professors failed to complete. And when the students began arriving, Remus thought it would be better for him to take the express for old times’ sake, making you roll your eyes in affection at how nostalgia hit him like a brick. 

But when you were taken away from the start-of-term feast to tend to Harry Potter because of a dementor attack, you thought the express ride was far more terrifying than nostalgic. 

“What trouble have you gotten into this time, Harry?” You tut at the boy who always came rushing to you whenever he got cut by something magical that even Ron and Hermione couldn’t explain. “I swear, you’re always back at the hospital wing at the beginning of every term.”

Harry messed with his Hogwarts robes and pushed your hand away when you put the back of your hand on his forehead. “S’not my fault. The dementors came onto the train.”

You send him a somber look, “I heard all about it from McGonagall when she called me over. Let me get you some chocolate—”

“Oh! The new professor, I think Professor Lupin was his name, gave me some already.” Harry interrupted before you could shove more chocolate in his mouth. If he was being completely honest, he was getting pretty tired of chocolate already, and the term only just started.

“Did he?” You ask almost cheerfully, confusing Harry while he nods slowly, furrowing his brows when you clapped your hands lightly. Maybe it was because he was confused about why you were clapping about the attack. “That’s good.”

And before he could even ask, Madam Pomfrey walked in and checked Harry’s temperature and then heart rate, checking in with you about other important vitals. “I hear we finally got a good DADA professor. It’s nice to have someone who knows what they teach.”

“I agree.” You nod swiftly, making Madam Pomfrey roll her eyes in your direction. Harry looked between you two again, getting more and more confused with each passing second. “What?”

“Go down to the feast, you two.” She finally waved you and Harry off.

You tilt your head in mock offense, “I’m not a child, Poppy.”

She raised her brow, “Say that to me when you aren’t coming to me whining about being tired when the twins spell first years.” You feel your face warm at her words, but she continues. “In fact, that’s what your husband is for now that he’s—”

“That’s unfair!” You complain before catching yourself, clearing your throat, and scratching the back of your neck. She stared at you expectantly, shaking her head in amusement as you apologized hastily. “Sorry, Poppy.”

“Husband?” Harry turned to you once the two of you were out of the hospital wing, catching up to your surprisingly quick pace. “You’re married?”

It was quiet for a second, the words not processing through your mind until you were at the oak doors that concealed the Great Hall, where everyone else had already begun eating. You stop just before you could push the doors open, turning to look at him face-to-face.

“Of course, I am.” You send him an odd look, yet a smile appeared on your face. “To one of the smartest wizards I know.”

“Wait a second, do we even know who it is?” He inquired, taking notice that you were getting more impatient with all his questions. For once, you seemed more eager to get inside the Great Hall than he was. 

“Oh, Harry.” You coo as if you were talking to a baby and pat his head, making him push your hand away again. “Let’s not ask the obvious.”

And with that, you pushed the oak doors open and entered the hall as if you hadn’t left Harry with so many unanswered questions. He watched you bound toward the staff table at the very front of the hall, taking your usual seat between McGonagall and whatever new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor they had this year, except the excitement he saw from you earlier only seemed to increase when you sat down. 

What was even more unusual was that Snape’s glares seemed to be aimed at the new professor and you rather than Harry. 

Harry took his seat beside Ron, looking over at Hermione. “Did you know Y/N is married?”

Hermione raised a brow at him and put her fork down, her gaze drifting toward the staff table along with Ron, who was busy stuffing his face full. “The ring on her hand wouldn’t suggest otherwise, why?” 

“Because…” Harry trailed off before shaking his head. “Nevermind, it’s not important.”

Hermione and Ron glanced at each other before shrugging, although Hermione was already planning to keep an eye on you this year. Not that it was prudent to know who exactly you were dating, but if Harry mentioned it and found it a little interesting, it wouldn’t hurt to do a little investigating. 

As the first term went by, it was more or less rough with how Remus was adjusting to teaching at Hogwarts, and with Snape constantly making snide remarks whenever Dumbledore wasn’t around, you were starting to get pissed. Even more so when Snape threatened not to make the potion for Remus one afternoon simply because you looked at him funny. 

“Severus, it is completely unjust if you refuse to make the potion.” You hiss one day in his empty classroom, staring at him with nothing but pure hatred. “Frankly, I don’t care what happened back at Hogwarts when we were younger. What I care about is whether or not he is going to be okay during the next—”

“Is it unjust?” Severus narrowed his eyes at you. “I may be crude, but what if he is helping him get onto the school grounds?”

You scoff out a laugh, “I know my husband, and he would never—”

“Er— Professor Snape?” You heard a voice coming from the potion’s doorway, making you freeze on the spot. “Professor McGonagall asked me to fetch you for—”

“Weasley, can’t you see I’m busy?” Snape sneered before taking his leave without even taking any points off the Gryffindor house. You left the classroom soon after, leaving behind fury and annoyance from the earlier conversation—not even acknowledging Ron’s existence at the moment. 

Against his better judgment, Ron followed you as best as he could, hoping you wouldn’t catch him in the act despite your indignant mood. However, when you turned west of the hospital wing, he saw a glimpse of where you were heading, only briefly hearing a voice before you slammed the door shut. 

“Dovey—”

By the start of the second term, Harry, Hermione, and Ron still had no clue who you were married to. And it’s not like you were going to give them hints—you were always one to avoid talking about your personal life whenever they tried to pry. Honestly, they were about to give up by the end of January when Ron came up with such a crazy theory on the way to their Defense Against the Dark Arts class.

“You don’t think she’s married to Snape, do you?” Ron muttered as a group of Slytherins passed, rolling his eyes when he saw them trip a Hufflepuff. 

“Don’t be ridiculous, Ron. We’ve known them for three years now. If they were married, we would know.” Hermione shook her head in exasperation, adjusting her shoulder bag. “Besides, her husband could very well not work at Hogwarts. There are thousands of wizards out there.”

Harry scuffed his shoe against the stone, his voice uncertain but clear. “But Ron said he heard someone when she entered the faculty tower.”

“That could be anyone.” She shook her head. “Come on, we'd better get to class before Malfoy decides it’s funny to take our seats again.”

At the same time, you were cooped up in Remus’ office. You just went up to check on him one last time since the full moon was coming up soon, when one thing led to another, and well… It’s not like you were doing anything indecent, but it was enough to traumatize someone if they walked into his office. 

“Okay, I have to go.” You murmur as you pull away from his kisses, laughing when he pulls you close by the waist, not wanting to let go just yet. “Remus—”

“Yeah?” He grinned and kissed you once more, making you soften under his touch. 

Smiling into the kiss, you pull away again, putting a hand up against his lips. “As much as I would love to stay here and kiss you dizzy, you have a class in about five minutes, and—” You reinforce your tone when you feel him open his mouth against your palm. “—Poppy will come after my head if I don’t show up to help her reorganize our remedy cabinet.”

Remus lolled his head to the side with honey eyes that made you melt on the spot before you shook your head, already walking backwards toward the exit of his office. “Don’t miss me too much, Lupin.”

“I’m already dying, dove.” He grinned and followed you down the stairs, hands in his pants pockets as his room began filling with Slytherins and Gryffindors, the golden trio entering the classroom with curiosity. “The three troublemakers.”

“Yep.” You murmur with a smile, waving to the three of them as you head for the door. 

Ron, however, stopped you from advancing, suspicion lacing his voice when he spoke. “What were you doing here?”

You shrugged, taking small steps toward the exit, glancing at Remus momentarily before answering Ron. Technically, you were lying to them, but they didn’t need to know your husband was a werewolf or that you were basically making out with their professor for the past twenty minutes. “Giving the new professor tips and tricks on how to deal with you lot.”

Hermione frowned, “But it’s been an entire term—”

“Have fun with DADA!” You cut the busy-haired girl off, finally taking your leave as Remus calms the class down to start their lesson on Red Caps. 

Then, in February, you and Remus decided it would be nice to actually get out of the castle for once. Of course, since there wasn’t anywhere else to go, you landed on going to Hogsmeade for the weekend. There wasn’t an exact shop or place either of you wanted to go to, but it had been a while since you and Remus went out on a date without having to be needed by the students at every waking minute. 

But it wasn’t like they didn’t approach. On the way, several students came up to you and Remus to simply say hi or how are you? You were both kind enough to respond, but truly, you just wanted to spend time together. And just as a first-year Hufflepuff named Julie left the two of you alone, you finally turned to Remus—seemingly exhausted by the number of students coming up to you. 

“We could get butterbeer?” You suggested, your arm curled around Remus’ while your old scarf billows in the wind, the stone path covered in bits of snow. You carefully stepped over a pile of gray snow, nose scrunching as you spoke. “And then we could go to Tomes and Scrolls after.”

“I like the sound of that.” He nodded and pressed a muted kiss to your temple, guiding you into the Three Broomsticks.

As you entered, Madam Rosmerta’s eyes flickered up when footsteps entered the pub, gasping when she saw the two of you appear in front of her. Instantly, she rushed over to you and pressed a kiss to your cheek before doing the same with Remus, just as though the two of you were the children she saw dancing around each other’s feelings.

“Well, isn’t this a sight to see. My favorite Gryffindors together once more.” She gushed, squeezing your arm. 

You smile and pull your scarf off, gingerly teasing her when she kept looking at the two of you in awe, as if she could hardly believe her eyes. “Stop, you’ll make me blush.” You wave her off, your own gaze shifting to pride when you catch Remus’ eyes. “Actually, Remus got a job at Hogwarts.”

“I heard.” Madam Rosmerta tilted her head with her own smile before gesturing for both of you to take a seat, wiping her hands on her apron. “I think a batch of butterbeer on me is in order.”

Remus raised his brows in surprise, shaking his head at the offer. “Please, there’s no need to—”

“I’m doing it anyway, Lupin.” She insisted and shooed you away, gently pushing the two of you away from the bar. 

You laughed softly as Remus took you to a booth, humming as you calmed down. Tilting your head, you rested your chin in your palms and studied Remus as if he were a textbook you were supposed to be studying for an exam. He raised a brow in your direction, silently asking you what you were thinking. 

“Seriously, though, I’m happy you’re here.” You say in response, eyes still trained on him. You feared that if you looked away for even a second, he would disappear. Before he could say anything, you asked him a question that you hoped would yield a positive answer. “Are you happy to be teaching here?”

Remus nudged your foot with his, a small smile making its way to your face at the simple action that filled your chest with his oh-so familiar warmth. “I would like to say so. The students are quite wonderful and are curious about what we seem to be learning.” He waved a hand around, a recognizable grin plastered on his lips. “And I guess it’s a bonus that you work here too.”

“Aw, you love me.” You chuckle, reducing to a puddle when he cupped your face and placed a tender kiss on your lips. “Remus…”

“And you know that is completely and utterly true.” He rested his forehead on yours and pressed one last peck before pulling away, acutely aware of how students from Hogwarts were gaping at you both. 

It almost seemed quiet in the Three Broomsticks now, all heads turned to where you and Remus sat. Then, several seconds later, whispers began to fill the air. Some were giddy, and some were in repulsion at the thought of the staff having a relationship outside of the school. 

“I think they know.” You mumble with a tiny smirk, thanking Madam Rosmerta when she delivers the butterbeer tankards at your table. Stirring your straw around the drink, you look around the pub as well, choking on your drink when you catch Ginny Weasley staring like she saw a ghost. 

Remus shrugs, “They definitely know, but who cares, really?” He sipped his butterbeer, causing you to wipe the excess from the corner of his lips. “I mean, the other day, we nearly had the Weasley twins walk in my office while you were—”

“Enough.” You cover his mouth, face burning from the memory. Your next words came out in a low whisper, “I thought we agreed to never mention that ever again?”He laughed against your palm and kissed the skin there. 

After your date at the Three Broomsticks, you were sure everyone knew that you and Remus were in a relationship, as there were students who seemed to tease you whenever they saw you walking in the hallway. Even McGonagall now had her fun at poking at the two of you, saying how she was the sole reason you even got together in the first place.

Unfortunately, Harry, Ron, and Hermione still couldn’t piece together that the two of you were married. Not until the three of them ran into Remus when he was on his way to see you. They suppose he was just visiting the hospital wing since he tended to be ill a lot, but he looked physically fine, confusing them for the last time, since Remus had told them that he would be busy after his final class. 

“Professor!” Harry stumbled over his own feet when he did a double-take, taking notice of how Remus was actually walking quite happily compared to most days whenever he navigated himself to the hospital wing. “I-I thought you said you were busy?”

“I am, Harry.” Remus corrected, not even sparing a glance toward the young wizard. “I’m off to the hospital wing.”

Ron furrowed his brows and looked at Harry and Hermione sideways before speaking, “Are you feeling… Okay? I mean— You know… You look fine, professor.”

He nodded and made a sharp left turn, causing the three Gryffindors to crash into one another. “I’m feeling great, Ron.” 

Hermione brushed herself off and quickly chased after Remus, not bothering to even check up on Ron and Harry. She was out of breath by the time she caught up with him, equally shocked at how lively Professor Lupin was today. Typically, they’d have to slow their own pace so he could catch up with them. 

“Sir, why—?”

“Remus! What took you so long?” You call out to him when you see him enter the hospital wing, smiling knowingly when the golden trio walks in behind him. Waving at them, you shook your head, all pieces clicking together. “I should’ve known it was you three who would slow him down.”

Hermione tucked her curled hair back, chest still rising and falling from the journey it took to get here. “Well, we were actually heading to the library when we ran into Professor Lupin—”

You clicked your tongue when you looked at the giant clock displayed above the door, “Luckily, Remus made it here on time. We’re cutting it close with our reservation at the Gilded Griffin.”

Only then did the three Gryffindors notice what you and Remus were wearing. While Remus was wearing black, sharp dress robes, they didn’t even know he owned—for he always dressed in his shabby, torn ones—you were dressed in a maroon dress that they thought was far too fancy to even wear for any occasion besides a wedding. Ron’s mouth dropped open before Hermione shut it with the tip of her finger, but equally shocked at the way the two of you dressed.

“Ready, dove?” Remus let you take his arm, his smile softening as he looked you up and down. 

“Always.” You nod cheerfully and pull your wand out, not noticing the way the trio was looking at you like you had both grown multiple heads. 

And before you could apparate—special permission given by Dumbledore himself because he definitely favored the two of you over others—Harry snapped out of his astonished gaze and practically shouted at you like he was bleeding out to die. 

“YOU’RE MARRIED TO PROFESSOR LUPIN?”

You break away from admiring Remus and tut at Harry, patting his head once more. Ironically, Harry was starting to believe you loved to treat him like your own child because of how often you did that to him. He pushed your hand off his hair, scowling a little when you spoke to him with a mocking tone. 

“Oh, Harry… Of course, I am.”

Hermione’s mouth opened and closed several times before settling on something, “B-but how come—”

“If you ever asked what my last name was, we wouldn’t be here, now would we?” You tilt your head before smiling at them, watching the three of them look at one another incredulously. “I will see you three later. For now, behave and don’t go looking for trouble.”

And with that, you and Remus disapparted with three very surprised Gryffindors. 

“Well, Professor Lupin. I think we really deserve this now.” You laugh when you appear at the entrance of the restaurant, propping your chin on his shoulder. 

Remus pressed a kiss to your lips, “I couldn’t agree more.”

©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms

[my-castles-crumbling]

travel - @wolfstarmicrofic - word count: 319

“Spend Christmas with me,” Sirius murmured into Remus’s mouth, his warm breath fanning over Remus’s face and making them both blush.

Remus tightened his hold around Sirius’s waist, pushing him tighter against the corridor wall, wanting to take in this moment, live in it forever. He truly never thought this would happen. That Sirius would like him? Want to sneak out of Transfiguration and snog him in the secret passage behind the portrait of Alberta the Abnormal? 

Want to spend his first Christmas completely free from his parents with him?

But of course, Remus’s life wasn’t that kind.

“The Full’s on Christmas Eve,” he murmured, looking down as he pulled back from Sirius. Merlin, he wanted to cry. 

“Still come to the Potters,” Sirius insisted, silver eyes wide and beseeching, making Remus’s heart do funny things. “We can go somewhere on the day of, make sure it’s safe–”

“We can’t, love. You know we can’t,” Remus whispered ruefully, fingers moving up to trace at the porcelain skin of Sirius’s cheek. “But it’s alright, yeah? I’ll come over after I’m all healed and set to travel. You’ll be okay with James until then, yeah?”

Sirius’s smile didn’t meet his eyes.

-

The night of December 23rd, Remus was surprised when, after a knock on the door of his family’s cottage, his Mum told him to answer. Usually, she liked to be the one to greet guests, especially unexpected ones. But now, he found himself dragging his aching limbs to the door, his mind on other places, other people.

People who just happened to be at his door.

“Hey, Moony,” Sirius greeted him, grinning happily.

“S–Sirius?” he stuttered, automatically stepping back to let his boyfriend inside. 

“Don’t look so shocked,” Sirius teased, pressing a kiss to his cheek and walking into the warm. “As if I’d ever let you deal with your transformation alone. Not anymore, love.”

Remus suddenly felt very warm.

[moonstruckme]

hi mae ! loved your recent works !! i had a request but its a bit weird i think haha i was thinking doctor!remus or emt!marauders (or anyone of them really) where reader had maybe a rough past few days and had panic attacks or just cried a lot and maybe its early in the relationship and r isn’t planning on telling them but when they see each other they notice red dots under her eyes (it happens to me often its blood vessels that bursts because of the crying) and so they just ask about what happens and its just some comfort (it’s clearly self indulgent and a bit weird so feel free to ignore)

Thanks for requesting lovely <3

a/n: Please do not misconstrue my participation in the marauders fandom as support of JKR. If you’re new here and want to participate in the fandom, I encourage you to do so without participating in anything that would provide financial gain to her or her vile agendas

doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 764 words

It’s been a week since you’ve seen Remus. A busy, punishing, hellish week, and knocking on his door feels like a breath let out. When he answers it, you’re so happy to see him you could collapse under the weight of it. 

“Hi,” you all but sigh. 

Remus smiles. Your insides go all liquidy in response. “Hi.” 

“I missed you.” 

“Yeah?” His voice tips up in surprise when you put your arms around him, but he hugs you back. “I’ve missed you, too.” You let go, embarrassment at your exhaustion-induced soppiness tickling your cheeks. Remus shuts the door behind you. “How was your week?”

You groan. “God, so long. Yours?” 

It’s the reason you’d decided not to see each other since last weekend. You’d known it would be a busy week for you at work, and while Remus is never not busy, he let you have the space you needed to keep your nose to the grindstone. It wound up being even more intensive than you’d anticipated; you didn’t even have time to call, and you’ve been feeling really very deprived of him as a result. 

Remus hums thoughtfully as he goes into the kitchen, you on his heels. There’s a bottle of wine waiting on the counter. “Suffice to say I’m glad it’s done with.” 

“I’ll drink to that,” you joke. 

After the week he knows you’ve had, Remus proposed a laid-back night when he invited you over. The suggestion reaffirms everything you’ve thought about him, sweet and considerate; you’ve been daydreaming about cuddling on his sofa ever since he asked you. 

Remus fills your glasses. You clink them together, but when Remus goes to take a sip he looks at you and his gaze snags. 

You hesitate. “What?” 

“Sorry.” He smiles a little, but it’s an afterthought, a weak thing. “Just…could you turn a bit more towards the light?” He touches your face, tilting it where he wants you. His brows sew together. “You’ve got spots.” 

“Oh, sorry.” You feel yourself flush, knowing instantly what he means. “That happens sometimes. It’s fine, they’re harmless.” 

“I know they are. They’re called petechiae,” murmurs Remus, his thumb petting gently over the skin beneath your eye. His gaze meets yours, concerned. “They’re caused by blood vessels breaking under the skin. When did you strain your eyes this badly?” 

You give a small shrug. “It was a stressful week. I cried a bit.” 

Remus melts. “Oh, lovely,” he coos. His hold shifts so that he’s cupping your cheek in his palm, warmth bleeding into you. “I didn’t know it was that awful. It would have had to be a lot to cause marks like this.” 

“It wasn’t that awful.” You’re having a hard time meeting Remus’ eyes. 

He tuts, setting his wineglass down to fold you into a hug. Despite your claim you succumb to it unresistingly, knitting your fingers into the fibers of his sweater and inhaling his clove and citrus scent. It’s a feeble hope you don’t start crying again right here. 

“I’m sorry,” Remus murmurs, arms curled around you like he can shield you from the world. “It must have been a hard week. I’m glad you’re here now.” 

You hold him tighter. “I’m glad I’m here, too.” 

He loosens his hold with a kiss to your head. “If you want the spots to go away, we can get a cold compress on them,” he offers. “And have you eaten yet?” 

You shake your head. “I came straight from work.” 

Remus’ brows twitch, and he looks at you for a moment like he thinks he might have misheard. “It’s half eight.” 

“I know.” You give him a sheepish smile. “I had stuff to finish up.” 

He makes a sound that might be a sigh or a laugh, pulling you in to kiss your head again quickly. “My sweet girl,” he mutters, and your heart sings at the though of being his anything, “they really don’t deserve you. Alright, I’ll make us some dinner.” 

“You don’t have to,” you say, but Remus goes on as if you haven’t spoken.

“Would you have a stew?” He starts opening cabinets, cataloguing ingredients. “They can be really nutrient dense, and I get the sense you’ve had a pot noodles sort of week.” 

“Remus.” You take his wrist. 

Remus turns a heavy stare on you. “Don’t argue with me.” 

You bite down on a smile. “Thanks.” 

He softens. “Yeah, lovely. Of course.” 

“Stew sounds nice.” 

“Good.” He starts taking things down from the cabinets. “I reckon with some work we can get all the food groups in there.”

[colouredbyd]

bambi, oh bambi

poly!marauders x reader ♡ 3.6k

synopsis: shifting for the first time to surprise your boyfriends leaves you a whirlwind of nerves, but with the guidance of your closest companions, you discover an animagus form that feels entirely, unexpectedly like you.

warnings: sweetheart!reader, r is shy and anxious, r is best friends with regulus and barty, animagus transformation, magic, snow, fluff, panic and anxiety, seasonal cold/snow, mild self-doubt, feelings of nervousness and vulnerability.

You stand nervously in the middle of the snow, your breath rising in small clouds as it meets the crisp winter air. Every nerve in your body feels alive, tingling with anticipation and fear. 

Pandora and Regulus are both staring at you, their expressions calm but attentive, while you panic and spiral quietly to yourself. 

Your thoughts feel heavy, though you are still very much yourself, very much human, in this moment.

“It is completely normal to feel nervous during your first transformation,” Pandora says gently, kneeling slightly in the snow to be closer to your level. 

“Especially when you do not even know what your Animagus will be.”

You shake your head, panic prickling in your chest. “I… I don’t know if I can do this,” you admit, your voice trembling. Your hands fidget with the cuff of your sleeve. “What if I fail? What if I hurt myself?”

Regulus steps a little closer, his hands shoved into the pockets of his coat, his expression composed yet firm. “You will not hurt yourself,” he says, his voice low, carrying a quiet certainty. “I know you. You are careful, and precise. Even your first attempt will not be dangerous.”

Your eyes widen as worry twists in your stomach. “But what if my Animagus is dangerous? What if it is something wild or… I don’t know… something I cannot control?”

Regulus lets out a short, amused chuckle. “You are my best friend. You would not be capable of producing anything dangerous. And honestly, I would not be surprised if it turns out to be something completely harmless. Likea  butterfly.”

You pout, shoulders tense, feeling a little relief at his attempt at humor but still trembling. “I don’t know how to transform. What if I just… cannot do it?”

Pandora opens her notebook carefully, the pages crisp against the cold air. “Don’t worry,” she says, flipping to the page she has marked. 

“We will go through the instructions step by step. Focus on your breathing. Relax your muscles. Visualize the form you wish to take. Imagine every part of your body shifting, folding, and changing until it feels natural.”

Regulus crouches slightly beside you, watching you carefully, his dark eyes bright with encouragement. 

“The first time I transformed,” he says, a faint grin tugging at his lips, “I became a cat. Tiny, soft, and like a black shadow. I hid under the couch for hours because I was terrified I would break something or scare someone. But I learned to control it. You will, too. It is just a matter of patience and practice.”

You bite your lip, your gaze dropping to the untouched snow beneath your feet. “It still feels… impossible.”

Pandora reaches out and gently rests a hand near your shoulder, careful not to startle you. “Nothing worth doing comes without some fear. It is natural. The important part is that you try. That you don’t give up on yourself before you even begin.”

Regulus leans a little closer, lowering his voice to something almost conspiratorial. “I will be right here watching and making sure nothing goes wrong. I promise. And if it does… well, we will handle it together.”

You take a deep breath, feeling the crisp winter air fill your lungs, and step carefully back onto the thin ice near the edge of the frozen stream. You pull your scarf tighter, though it is heavy and awkward against your suddenly smaller frame. 

Pandora kneels a few steps away, her notebook still in her hands. She tilts her head slightly, watching you with gentle patience. “Remember the steps,” she says softly. 

“Relax. Focus. Visualize. You have worked for months for this. You can do it.”

You tense your muscles, every fiber of your body trembling, and let the magic flow. It begins at your toes, a strange tickling warmth that moves up your legs. 

The sensation is dizzying, surreal, like every bone and muscle is bending in impossible ways. Your heart pounds, and you stumble on the ice, flailing slightly before your hooves catch.

When the shift is over, you stare down. Your hooves press into the snow, delicate and firm. Your legs feel both fragile and alive. You take a small, tentative step and then another, testing balance and coordination. 

The cold snow presses against your fur, sparkling on the tips of your coat. 

You flick your ears nervously, eyes wide, and glance toward Pandora and Regulus.

Their reactions hit you like a shock. Pandora gasps softly. “Oh… my…” Her eyes are wide, full of awe.

Regulus steps closer, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, though his voice carries a quiet wonder. “Incredible,” he says, crouching slightly. 

Your tail flicks nervously, and you back up a few steps toward the frozen stream. You pause at the edge and lower your head toward the ice, sniffing, trying to understand yourself in this body.

The reflection that stares back at you makes your chest tighten with disbelief. Small, wide eyes, soft brown fur, and delicate white spots across your back.

A little deer. 

You paw at the snow, testing your legs, and take a careful step forward, then another, discovering the agility in your new form.

Pandora tilts her head, eyes widening with so much joy that she practically glows. Her breath bursts out in a delighted cloud as she claps both hands over her mouth.

“Oh my god, you are like a little fawn!” she squeals, bouncing on her toes as if she cannot contain the excitement. “Look at you! You are tiny and spotted and absolutely precious!”

She crouches down a little, leaning closer with shining eyes.

Regulus chuckles lightly, crouching so he is level with your eyes. “I would never have guessed, but it suits you.”

Your ears twitch at every sound—the whisper of the wind, the crunch of snow beneath Regulus’ boots, the distant caw of a bird. 

A tiny, excited leap carries you forward, snow spraying around your hooves. Your movements are clumsy but joyful, and a little thrill of freedom surges through you. 

Pandora claps her hands softly, and Regulus leans back, eyes bright with amusement and pride.

The snow, the forest, the cold, the magic;; it all feels like it is yours, in this moment, completely and beautifully yours.

The second you shift back into your human body, you stumble straight onto your knees in the snow. A rush of wild exhilaration bursts through your chest, so powerful you can barely breathe.

I did it!” you gasp, practically choking on your own smile. “I did it, I did it! Pandora, Regulus, did you see that?”

You don’t even wait for an answer. You throw yourself at Pandora so fast she lets out a startled squeal of laughter as she catches you.

“You did it, sweetheart!” she cries, gripping your shoulders and shaking you a little in excitement. “You were amazing! I knew you would get it!”

You shake with excitement and cling to her a moment longer before turning and launching yourself at Regulus. 

He stands with his arms half-raised, pretending he is not expecting it, although his eyes soften the moment you collide with him.

“Regulus!” you gasp, grabbing the front of his coat and practically bouncing on your feet. “i was a deer—a real deer! with spots and hooves and everything!”

His arms come around you slowly, steady and grounding, as if he wants to hold onto your excitement without letting it overwhelm you. His voice is low, smooth, calm.

“I know,” he says. “I saw the entire thing.”

You pull back a little, cheeks flushed, breath quick. “Did I look strange? Did I look ridiculous?”

He tilts his head, meeting your worried gaze, and a small, almost imperceptible smile touches his lips. “No. You were amazing,” he says softly. “Even when if the transformation was a little sloppy, it was perfect. You handled it better than anyone could have expected.”

You cover your face with your hands, heart pounding, and he gently moves your fingers aside, brushing snow from your hair.

“But you were also adorable,” he adds quietly. “A very, very adorable deer.”

You couldn’t help but feel giddy on the inside at Regulus’s praise. 

He may have been your best friend and closest companion, but it was rare for Regulus, of all people, to show any emotion at all—let alone let his pride seep through the cracks of his carefully maintained walls.

A word of praise from Reggie, meant the world to you. It made your chest feel lighter, your heart warmer, and every bit of hard work you’d poured into becoming an Animagus feel completely worth it.

Pandora laughs again, brushing snow off your sleeve. “You should be proud. What a beautiful Animagus form.”

Regulus steps back and lifts one eyebrow. “Well then. Off you go, amour. Go show your boyfriends before you burst from excitement.”

You gasp dramatically and clutch Pandora’s hands. “We have to go. I need to tell them right now.”

Pandora squeezes your hands with the same excitement. “Go. They will be thrilled.”

****

“James!” you call the moment you burst into the common room. 

You don’t even wait for him to answer — you grab his wrist with both hands and start tugging. “Come on, come on, come on, I need to show you something!”

James barely has time to blink. “Merlin, love— what’s got into you?” He’s stumbling after you, curls bouncing, but he’s already smiling because you’re smiling.

“Sirius!” you call over your shoulder. “Remus! Get over here!”

A groan answers you from the couch. “It’s snowing,” Sirius complains, dramatically wrapping himself tighter in a blanket. “Do you know what snow does to my hair?”

“You’ll survive!” you say, breathless and glowing. “Please, Pads, it’s really— really— really important.”

Before Sirius can argue again, Remus appears from the hallway, book still in hand, scarf slung over his arm. He takes one look at you, practically vibrating with joy, and his whole expression softens.

He steps forward and gently cups your face with both cold hands. “Dovey,” he murmurs, brushing his thumb over your cheek, “take a breath. You’re shaking.”

“I know,” you say, grinning so hard your eyes crinkle. “I’m sorry— I just— it’s important, Moony.”

“No apologizing.” He smiles faintly. “Just slow down enough so we can keep up with you.”

“Right— right, okay,” you say, even though you’re still bouncing a little on your toes.

Sirius slinks over now, muttering under his breath, blanket still draped around him like a cape. “This better be worth frostbite.”

“It is,” you say, nearly squealing.

James squeezes your hand, brows raised in playful intrigue. “Are we going to pull a prank? Because if this is about causing some trouble, I’d like to mentally prepare first.”

“No! Well— no. Not this time.” You tug him closer. “It’s a surprise.”

Remus lets out a small, fond sigh and flicks his wand. Scarves whoosh out of his bag and wrap themselves neatly around each of your necks, warm as a cup of tea. 

“If we’re going out,” he says, adjusting yours with gentle fingers, “we’re doing it without any of you getting sick.”

Sirius brightens immediately as the warmth hits him. “You should’ve led with the free winter gear,” he says, looping his scarf twice. “Very persuasive.”

“Alright,” James says, squeezing your shoulders, “where to, sweetheart?”

“Outside,” you say, practically glowing. “Hurry!”

Sirius opens the door with a flourish, snow drifting in on a soft, icy breeze.

You step into the center of the courtyard, breath puffing in front of you in little clouds. The boys stand a few feet away, bundled in their scarves, waiting.

But now that they’re actually here, watching you… your heart stutters. Nerves flutter in your stomach. You take a small step back.

Sirius tilts his head, a curious smile tugging on his lips.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he teases, “what is it you’re dying to show us?”

James laughs breathlessly. “Yeah, love, you’re scaring us a little.”

You swallow, nod once, inhale deeply—

And then you shift.

The world ripples around you, magic curling over your skin like warm light, and in a blink, you’re standing on four legs in the snow.

A small, soft deer with your fur dusted with flakes, breath steaming in the cold.

Three pairs of eyes widen dramatically.

For one perfect moment, silence.

Then—

James absolutely screams.

“Holy— Merlin’s scruffy stag— when— how— what—!”

James grabs Sirius’s arm, his eyes wide as if holding onto someone might help him process what he just saw.

Sirius stays frozen, mouth slightly open, completely still, like he can’t believe what he’s seeing.

Remus just blinks, taking a moment to register it all, his expression caught somewhere between shock and awe.

You stamp your little hooves impatiently, looking at them with wide, pleading eyes, as if to say, Well??

James is the first to find his voice, stumbling over words in his excitement.

“When did you even—how did you go through the Animagus process without us knowing— ”

You can’t help it. The thrill of it, the joy of finally revealing yourself, bubbles out uncontrollably, and you jump, bouncing in the snow, spinning and hopping with excitement.

And suddenly Remus breathes out a stunned laugh. “Oh, sweetheart— come here—”

You don’t even let him finish. You gallop straight toward him and tackle him into a soft drift of snow. He goes down with a yelp and then bursts into laughter, wrapping his arms around your warm neck.

“Okay— alright— alright— you’re heavy like this—” he wheezes, still grinning up at you. “Merlin, you’re beautiful.”

You nuzzle his cheek before prancing away, hooves crunching through the fresh layer of snow.

James is already crouched, eyes wide with pure awe and giddy pride.

“Look at you!” he gushes, one hand reaching out carefully to stroke between your ears. “You’re perfect. D’you know that? Absolutely perfect.”

You lick his sleeve and he laughs like a little kid.

Then you turn to Sirius.

He hasn’t moved at all.

He’s standing like someone hit him with Petrificus Totalus, except his eyes are huge and soft and the tips of his ears are pink from the cold.

You trot up to him and blink up at him with wide doe eyes.

He inhales sharply. “Oh… oh no,” he whispers. “You’re— you’re literally the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.”

He drops to his knees instantly, hands hovering like he’s afraid to break you.

“I have so many questions— so many— but I can’t think right now because your little face is attacking my soul.”

You poke his side with your velvety nose.

He giggles.  “Oh, that’s illegal— don’t look at me like that— Bloody hell, you’re adorable—”

He finally wraps his arms around your neck, burying his face into your fur. “I’m never letting you be human again.”

You snort loudly, which makes him laugh even harder.

And then—

James shifts into his stag beside you, tall and magnificent, nudging your shoulder with a joyful snort.

Sirius rolls his eyes, stands up, and transforms in a smooth wave of magic — a huge black dog shaking snow from his fur.

You squeak (or… whatever the deer equivalent of a squeak is) and immediately bolt across the courtyard.

Prongs and Padfoot charge after you, hooves and paws thundering through the snow.

Remus stays human, arms crossed, scarf fluttering in the wind, laughing helplessly as you dart behind him for protection.

He places one steady hand on your back.

You press closer to Remus, hiding half behind him, peeking out just enough to flick your ears at the two troublemakers.

Remus laughs and pats your side.

“My brave girl,” he teases softly. “Hiding behind the man who can’t even shift.”

You nudge him indignantly.

Padfoot and Prongs are still waiting for another chase, but both of them stay where they are when Remus places one calming hand on your back.

“It’s alright,” he murmurs. “Take your time. Whenever you are ready.”

You close your eyes. The magic rises again, warm and familiar now, like sunlight curling through your limbs. Your shape shifts. Your hooves sink into the snow and dissolve. Your fur pulls inward. The world tilts once, gently, and then settles.

You are human again.

Your knees fold, and you collapse forward into Remus’s chest, breath coming out in a startled gasp. 

His arms tighten instantly, closing around you with a fierceness that makes your heart swell.

Remus’s hand rests lightly on your back, his voice soft as he leans down. “You alright?”

You lift your head just enough to meet his gaze, still flushed and breathless, and nod. “Yeah.”

Then, with a little nervous grin, you stare up at him. “Soooo… what do you think?”

He lets out a quiet, fond chuckle, brushing a hand through your hair. “I think… you’re amazing.”

You peek up at him through the scarf, a little shy but still glowing with excitement. “You… really think so?”

“I do,” Remus says quietly, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “You were incredible. All of it. I’m proud of you.”

Your chest swells, and you can’t help the soft, delighted laugh that escapes you. “Thank you… I was so worried you’d think it was silly or—”

Before you can finish, a loud chorus breaks through the calm.

“There she is!” James cries, barreling through the snow toward you, his hair dusted with flakes, a grin plastered across his face.

“You have an unbelievable amount of explaining to do, darling,” he announces, although his voice is far too warm to be truly scolding.

You giggle and pull your scarf close, cheeks warm despite the cold. Remus keeps one arm wrapped firmly around you as if he refuses to let you go now that you are back in human form.

“I know,” you say, still breathless and glowing. “I know I should’ve told you sooner. I just… needed to be sure. I didn’t want to say anything until I knew it was real.”

James’ brows lift, but his eyes are nothing but warm. “So all of this… has been going on for a while, then?”

You nod, hands twisting together for a moment before you make yourself meet their eyes. “A little over a month. Pandora helped me with the theory — she’s brilliant, honestly — and she was so patient with me. Every single time I messed up, she just tried again with me.”

Sirius snorts softly, though his smile is fond. “Of course she did. Pandora Lovegood could teach a rock to dance if she felt like it.”

You laugh, cheeks warming. “And Regulus helped too with the practical pieces. Making sure I didn’t try anything too reckless. He’s… very steady. He kept me grounded.”

James hums under his breath, impressed. “So he knew before we did.”

“Only by an hour!” you say quickly, as if it matters. “Today was the first time anything actually worked. And as soon as it did, I ran straight here.”

That earns you three different smiles, all of them soft.

Sirius nudges your shoulder gently. “Good. Because seeing you turn into that little deer might be the cutest thing that has ever happened in my entire life.”

You hide your face in your hands for a second, which only makes James laugh and pull your hands back down so he can see you. “Hey,” he says softly, “none of that. We’re amazed. That’s all.”

Remus’ hand finds its place on your back, slow and steady, his touch radiating reassurance. “You did something incredibly difficult, love,” he murmurs. “And you did it beautifully.”

Your breath catches in your throat, not because of nerves this time, but because of how full your chest feels.

You end up pulled into all three of them at once, completely surrounded and impossibly warm despite the snow drifting around your boots. 

James presses a kiss to your cheek. “I’m so proud of you.”

Remus tightens his hold just slightly, voice low against your ear. “We all are.”

Sirius rests his chin on your shoulder. “Our little Bambi,” he says with a grin you can hear. 

You let out a tiny laugh, too flustered to hide it. “Bambi?”

James grins. “Well, we can’t exactly keep calling you dovey now that we know you’ve been prancing around the forest behind our backs.”

Remus leans in slightly, his breath warm against your temple. “So,” he murmurs, a subtle smile in his voice, “do you want us to stick with dovey… or should we be calling you Bambi now?”

Your cheeks warm immediately. You duck your head a little, trying not to smile too widely.

“I don’t know,” you say honestly, the words coming out softer than you intend. “Either one is fine.”

Sirius snorts lightly. “That’s not an answer.”

You laugh under your breath, nudging him with your shoulder. “I don’t have a preference,” you admit, eyes flicking between all three of them. “If it’s from you, I’ll like it.”

James’ smile softens, warm enough to melt the snow still clinging to your coat.  

“Well then,” he murmurs, brushing a bit of snow from your hair, “come on, Bambi. Let’s get you inside before you freeze.”

[moons-and-mobility-aids]

I've just been put on my meds for my POTS but I'm terrible at remembering to take them. Could you write a fic with Remus having to remind reader to take them or scolding reader when she passes out due to it?

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Reader Summary: It's not the first time you’ve collapsed. But this time, something shifts. Tags: syncope, chronic illness management, medication adherence failure, remus finding you on the floor again, reader's self-neglect, hurt/comfort, guilt and care in equal measure, emotionally exhausted!remus, no use of y/n, soft aftermath, eventual healthy communication, reader promises to do better, subtle domesticity, just a little bit heartbreaking Word count: 1.2k words.

The flat is quiet when it happens. Too quiet. The kind of stillness that feels unnatural, like the air itself is holding its breath, suspended in a moment that hasn't realised yet it's about to fracture. Sunlight spills lazily across the kitchen tiles, golden and slow, warm and unbothered—cruelly indifferent to the way your legs suddenly betray you.

It happens too fast to prepare for. One second, you're standing at the counter, stirring honey into your tea with a lazy hand, letting the gentle hum of the kettle lull you into a sense of control. The next, the mug slips from your fingers, tumbling in slow motion, shattering in a spray of ceramic shards and glistening amber liquid. The kettle screams behind you, its shrill whistle echoing off the walls like a siren, as your body folds in on itself, a puppet whose strings have been sliced clean through. The floor rushes up to meet you with a merciless, bone-jarring finality.

Then—nothing. A blackness so thick and sudden it feels alive. Suffocating. Like being dragged under a wave you didn't see coming. You float in it, weightless and heavy all at once.

When you finally surface, the world is distant and disjointed. Everything sounds muffled, warped as though underwater. The edges of reality blur and bleed. Light pulses against your eyelids—too bright, too sharp. Your mouth is dry and metallic, the copper tang of fear clinging to your tongue. Your head throbs, a dull, relentless ache pounding behind your eyes.

And Remus is there.

You hear him before you can see him properly: the jangle of keys in the lock, the door creaking open, a sharp gasp that cuts through the stillness. Then the thud of boots across wooden floorboards, each footstep accelerating until he's stepping into the kitchen.

"Bloody hell."

The words leave him like an exhale punched out of his lungs.

Then he's beside you. Knees hitting the tile with a dull thud. His hands tremble as they find your face—one brushing the damp hair from your forehead, the other pressing two fingers to your wrist. His skin is warm, slightly calloused, familiar.

"Sweetheart? Can you hear me? Love, please—look at me. Say something."

Your eyelids flutter. Your vision swims, a blur of light and shape before it finally sharpens, revealing his pale face hovering over yours. His eyes are wild with fear, scanning every inch of you as if to memorise your breathing.

You manage a faint nod. Barely.

The relief is immediate. A breath leaves his chest in a ragged shudder, and he leans down to kiss your forehead, lips trembling.

"Thank Merlin," he whispers, though his voice is still shaking. He pulls back, raking a hand through his hair, eyes closed for a beat longer than necessary.

Then his expression changes. His voice doesn't rise, but there's a steel to it now. A subtle edge beneath the softness.

"Did you take your meds this morning?"

The words strike like lightning. Not loud, but unavoidable. And they hit with just as much force.

You blink at him. You know exactly what he means. The pills. The schedule. The very thing meant to stop this exact scenario from happening. The ones meant to keep your blood pressure from tanking and your heart from skipping entire beats when it pleases.

You say nothing. You don't need to. The silence says everything.

His jaw tightens. His brows knit together, and you watch as his throat works around the words he doesn't want to say.

"Tell me you didn't skip them again," he says, not angrily—but with a kind of raw disbelief that cuts deeper than yelling ever could.

Guilt rises in your chest, thick and suffocating. You try to sit up, but the room tilts violently, and you gasp. His hand flies to your shoulder, pressing gently but firmly.

"No. Don't move yet. Just... stay down a minute. Please."

You obey. The tiles feel colder now. The chill seeps into your spine. But his hand is still there, warm and grounding, tethering you.

He lets out a slow breath, and when he speaks again, it's quieter. More tired. Laced with a kind of heartbreak that makes your eyes sting.

"You scared the hell out of me. Again. I can't keep finding you like this. I—I can't keep holding my breath every time I hear a thud or silence where there should be sound."

You whisper, ashamed, "I forgot."

He doesn't respond right away. His eyes are locked on yours, searching, trying to decide if he should shout or hold you or both.

"You always forget," he says finally. It's not an accusation. It's just true. And it hurts more because of that.

"I didn't mean to."

"I know," he replies, voice gentler now, thumb brushing the edge of your jaw. "But meaning to isn't enough. Not with this. Not when your body decides to betray you whenever it feels like it."

You glance up at the ceiling, focusing on the crack that stretches out like a spider's web. You've never noticed it before. But now, it's all you can see.

He shifts closer. His breath is warm against your skin. His eyes soften, but the worry doesn't leave them.

"You're not invincible," he says, and his voice is barely above a whisper. "You don't have to be. You don't need to push through every morning pretending you're fine when you're not. But I can't—I won't—watch you hit the floor again because you didn't take care of yourself."

His voice cracks, and that's what finally breaks you.

"I'm sorry," you say, the words barely audible, but they echo between you like thunder.

He rests his forehead against yours, pulling you in close like proximity might make it better.

"You don't have to be sorry," he whispers. "You just have to take them."

You nod slowly. The shame is still there, but so is something else. A resolve.

"Every morning," he continues, and now the steel is back in his tone. "Even when you're exhausted. Even if you think you feel okay. Especially then. Set an alarm. Stick a post-it on every bloody surface. I'll remind you. I'll write it on the bathroom mirror if I have to."

You let out a breathy, broken laugh.

"Don't laugh," he says, and this time he's smiling, though it doesn't quite reach his eyes. "I mean it. If you fall again, I'll enchant every object in this house to scream ‘Take your bloody meds' until you do."

You nod again. This time, firmer. "Okay."

He eases you up slowly, supporting every inch of your weight like you might collapse again at any second. He wraps you in a blanket that smells faintly of sandalwood and parchment, and carries you gently to the sofa, lowering you onto the cushions like you're made of spun glass. He adjusts the throw with meticulous care, smoothing it over your lap.

Then he sits beside you. Pulls you close. His fingers thread through your hair as he kisses your temple, long and lingering.

"You scared me," he murmurs again. "More than anything ever has."

You curl into him, head resting against the reassuring drum of his heartbeat. You count each beat, slow and steady. Alive.

"Never again," you promise.

This time, you mean it like a vow.

And this time, so does he.

[tracingpatternswrites]

Today’s @wolfstarmicrofic is a short one since I’m super busy today. The prompt is hunger and I’ll put it below the cut because of cw food and not in a very healthy way.

Sirius had stopped dreaming about food. He had, at first, in Azkaban. Vivid dreams of the feasts at Hogwarts, of mrs Potter’s cooking, even of the banquets in Grimmauld Place which, for everything that was horrible with them, still always provided fantastic food.

As the years passed, the dreams became vaguer. He couldn’t quite remember what the treacle tart that Effie used to make looked like, or the taste of ice cold pumpkin juice during a hot summer’s day. He stopped feeling hunger all together, swallowed the pieces of bread and meat, drank the tepid water, not because he wanted to but because he wasn’t strong enough to refuse it, in the end. He ate because it kept him alive and he didn’t want to die, not really.

But now, in bed, the smell of tea and toast, eggs and bacon, wafting from the kitchen in the cottage where Remus was now apparently living, Sirius felt something stir inside of him. At first he thought he was hungry but that wasn’t it, not really.

Or maybe he was, Sirius thought as he rolled over in bed, the scent of Moony still lingering on the sheets, only not for food, but for life, for the first time since leaving Azkaban and that wasn’t a bad place to start.

[moonstruckme]

Sex, Drugs, and Rock 'n' Roll

summary: you think Sirius is going to hate you for missing his show, but he only wants to look after you

cw: drug use, peer pressure

rockstar!Sirius x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

Your mouth hurts. It’s your teeth, your jaw—you try to ignore it. Lily guides you by your hand, and you trust her to get you where you’re going, looking mostly at the floor. Even in the dim of backstage, the light has fingers. They reach for you, prod at your skin. 

Sirius is going to be so upset with you. 

A cold bead of sweat rolls down your spine. You try not to focus on it, on the sets of feet smearing past your vision. Sirius is going to be so, so upset. Is the show over already? You feel really warm. Lily’s talking to you over her shoulder. 

“Doing okay?” Her voice is gentle despite the volume, smoothing over the static of your head. “We’re almost there. They’ve just gotten offstage.” 

The show is over, then. You’ve missed the whole thing. 

You should have been down in the pit, soaking it all in, ready to wave at Sirius when he looked for you. Singing the words to all the songs. Instead you’ve spent the whole show—the whole show? That can’t be right—sitting in a dark room with Lily’s hand clutched in yours and listening to your heartbeat echo around your head. Sirius will be disappointed. He’ll be hurt, and he should be. You should have been there. 

He’s in front of you before you’re ready. 

James says, “Hey!” with enough boom to make your eyes snap up. He takes Lily’s face in his hands, full of adrenaline the way the boys often are after performing (you’ve been a merry participant in many post-show kisses yourself), and snogs her with her hand still tethered to yours. Sirius is just behind him. 

He’s shining. Larger than life. The star of the show, a white-hot brilliance meant to be seen from thousands of miles away brought into the room with you. And oh, you can see it. The confusion, the pique. “Where have you been?” he asks, in a tone that you think is meant to come off as teasing but isn’t really that at all. 

Lily de-suctions herself from James, telling him, “She took something.” 

Sirius blinks. Looks from her to you, then back. “Something?” 

Lily nods, a pinch at the corner of her mouth. “Some upper. She’s not enjoying it.” 

“Och.” James makes a sad face at you. 

You don’t remember that Lily is still holding your hand until she’s not anymore, but you don’t have to miss it for long. Sirius’ grip wraps around your arm, his other hand climbing your neck.

“Hey,” he says. “You okay, baby?” 

“I’m sorry.” Your voice hurts. You wonder if it sounds that way, too. “I missed your show.” 

“That’s okay.” 

You shake your head. The thrum of the world intensifies. “I should have been there. I wanted to, but everyone was having a pill and they made it seem like it’d be weird if I was the only one who—” 

“Everyone?” Sirius cuts you off. “Who’s everyone?” 

You shake your head. Some groupies, or maybe crew. Some people you’d been in a room with before the show. 

He sighs. “Okay. And you’re not having a good time.” 

“No,” you murmur. 

It’s funny how Sirius’ eyes can be covered in glitter, with eyeliner that cuts outward and everything all sharp angles, and still look so soft. “This is probably a lot for you, then, hm?” he hums, stepping closer to kiss your forehead. His arm curls around you. “Let’s go.” 

Sirius tucks you into his side, and his presence works like an anchor. Everything steadies. People look at Sirius, and they think he’s loud, he’s bright, he’s motion, but they don’t know that he can be this, too. Sirius knows how to be the rock which weathers the storm. He’s your peace. 

The static quiets. 

It’s easy to focus on him as he says goodnight to his friends and some crew, ushers you into a cab, kisses the inside of your wrist in a hotel lift. You train your thoughts on his hand, his mouth, his voice, and before you know it you’re laying down atop soft sheets, your ankles stretching as Sirius tugs off your boots. He’s left the lights off. 

“How’s that?” he asks, crawling up on the bed beside you. 

You curl your legs in until you can feel the material of your top against your thighs. “Better.” 

Sirius props his head on his hand, facing you. He reaches for your face. You close your eyes as his fingers wrap around your jaw, pressing in gently. 

“You want to let that go?” he asks. 

You try to unclench it, but the muscles don’t seem to want to listen. “I can’t.” 

Sirius tsks. “You’re going to grind your teeth down to nothing, pretty girl.” He begins drilling small circles into the joints with his thumb and forefinger. It aches, but at least more pleasantly than it has been. “Let’s just try, okay?” 

You close your eyes, doing your best to think past the pounding in your ears and let your body relax. The only other sound is the hum of the electric heater. 

“Are you shivering because you’re cold?” Sirius murmurs. 

You didn’t realize you were shivering. “I don’t think so.” You feel warm, actually, quite warm, but that’s not your biggest concern. “I’m really sorry.” 

“What for, my love?” 

“For—for—” You force your eyes open, looking at your boyfriend guiltily. “For not being there.” 

Sirius’ brow puckers. “I’ve already told you it’s fine.”

“I’m supposed to support you.” 

“What? Hey.” He moves to hold your face in both hands, pressing his forehead to yours. “You’re not supposed to anything, got it? I love to see you in the crowd when you want to be, but—darling, you couldn’t be out there tonight. It would have been awful for you. And that would have made it awful for me, understand?” 

As if to balance his fiery tone, Sirius’ kiss is heart-achingly soft. You let out a tremulous breath. 

“I’m not angry with you,” he says.

“Promise?” 

He chuckles. “Baby, don’t you think you’d know if I was angry? I’d never let you hear the end of it.” 

You hum. “That’s true.” 

“Yeah, you know it.” He kisses you again, this time with a grin that leaves a faint curve on your lips after he pulls away. “So can you relax for me? We’re good, gorgeous. You’re perfect.” He brushes a touch over your jaw again. You’ve not managed to unclench it fully, but it must have loosened enough to earn Sirius’ approval. He kisses you there, too.

[mischievousmoony]

more than friends oct 24 ⋆ seduction / body worship poly!jily x fem!reader

summary: james and lily are done being subtle about wanting you as their third ♱ 3.8k warnings: 18+ mdni, shy!nervous!reader, reader wears a skirt/dress, reader and lily swap clothes, seduction, body worship (light), threesome, oral (f receiving, lily & reader), squirting, unprotected p in v, creampie, praise kinktober masterlist

note: this is so rushed and barely counts as body worship and is coming out so late im sorry! also not sure if im happy with my characterization of lily here agh. lmk what u think?

“Oh, you can’t leave yet!” Lily says, her emerald eyes piercing into yours. She places a warm hand on your knee under the table, her thumb absentmindedly caressing your smooth skin.

You tear your eyes away from Lily to look at the large grandfather clock in the corner of the couple’s dining room. It’s late. Much later than you ever intended to stay.

Tonight, the Potters hosted their monthly dinner party, which you always love attending. Not only is James an incredible cook, and Lily a spectacular baker, but you also love having the chance to catch up with all your old friends from your school days. Friends, who have all already said their goodbyes tonight, leaving you alone with the couple.

“It’s getting pretty late,” you say, chewing the inside of your cheek. You’re worried about overstaying your welcome, even as one of your hosts is telling you to stay.

It’s a silly notion, really. Because you’re invited here often. James and Lily were some of your closest friends back at Hogwarts, and continue to be years later. In fact, you find time to see each other multiple times a week. Sometimes with others, like Sirius, Remus, and Peter. Sometimes—a lot of the times—it’s just the three of you.

Even so, you tend to get this anxious pit in your stomach. You worry that you’re overstepping. They’re a couple, after all, and you don’t want to impede on their alone time. No matter how many times they’ve proven that they adore your company, this worry always creeps in after a day spent with them.

“At least help us finish the last bottle before you go,” James speaks up. He reaches across the table to take your empty glass, bringing it to the mouth of the nearly full bottle. He pauses to peer at you over the rim of his glasses, “You will, won’t you?”

He shoots you that award-winning smile that used to get him out of all sorts of trouble back in your Hogwarts days—and had all the girls swooning over him, you included, not that you’ve ever admitted that out loud before.

“Sure,” you find yourself saying. “I can stay for another glass.”

Lily pats your knee once before removing her hand. “Excellent,” she cheers, shooting you a bright smile of her own (one that also used to make you swoon). “Why don’t we move somewhere more comfortable, then? The sofa?” she suggests.

“Great idea, Lils,” James replies before you even have the chance, lifting his and your generously filled glasses of wine to bring with you.

“Okay,” you agree, standing as Lily loops her arm with yours to guide you to their sitting room, where she pulls you onto the sofa with her. You’re sitting so close that your thighs aren’t just touching, you’re practically on top of her. Before you can put some space between you, James takes a seat on your other side.

You find it a little odd that they choose to sit on either side of you, instead of next to each other, but you don’t dwell on it. You take a sip from your glass when James hands it to you, hoping the bit of wine will help calm the sudden wave of nerves you can’t explain.

“Y/n, I think I remember you trying to tell a story earlier and Sirius cut you off,” Lily says with a tired eye roll that hints at her exasperation towards Sirius’s typical lack of awareness. “What was it you were saying again?”

“Oh, right—”

You jump back into the story you were telling about something that happened at work. You stammer over your words when James stretches his arm over the back of the sofa to place a hand on the back of Lily’s neck. A heat rises to your cheeks at the way his arm also brushes your back, but you’re sure it must not be intentional.

James and Lily laugh, and smile, and nod their heads in all the right places as you tell your story, even though you feel like you’re butchering it. Their unwavering attention is starting to make your heart race and your palms sweaty. Afraid you’ll drop it, you place the wine glass on the coffee table. You rush to finish talking, hoping that now that you’re done, some of the attention will shift off of you.

It doesn’t make any sense. You’re not usually nervous around them, not like this. But there’s almost something different about the way they look at you tonight.

“Oh, I’ve been meaning to tell you!” Lily’s eyes light up at her sudden thought. “I just adore your skirt. It looks really pretty on you.”

You didn’t think you could get any warmer. In fact, you’re afraid you might break out into a sweat as you thank Lily for the compliment.

“I mean, everything looks pretty on you,” Lily continues. “Don’t you think so, James?” she asks, eyes flicking over to her husband, whose eyes are fixed on your skirt.

“Lily’s right.” James’s gaze slowly trails up your body. “It looks incredible on you.”

“Th-thank you,” you say again, your voice a bit smaller. You’re starting to think the wine is getting to them.

“Oh! Do you know what else would look so good on you?” Lily asks, pulling your attention back to her.

“What?”

Lily smirks, a manicured hand running down the material fanned over her thighs. “My dress!”

James adds, “And I bet her skirt would look just as pretty on you, Lils.”

Lily gasps as if getting an idea. “We should switch!”

Your eyebrows shoot up at the suggestion, and the way Lily takes your hands in hers, squeezing as she pleads with you.

“It’ll be fun! I know my dress will look amazing on you, and I am just dying to try on that skirt. What do you say?”

You blink. Before you can think of what to say, Lily is already standing, tugging you up with her, and whisking you off to the bedroom.

Their bedroom is cozy, decorated with warm shades of red. Lily shuts the door behind you and walks over to the vanity. You notice pictures tucked into the frame of the vanity’s mirror. Some of just the couple, some with friends. You’re in a lot of them.

Lily sweeps her hair over her shoulder. “Can you unzip me?” she asks, making eye contact with you through the large mirror.

Your heart pounds in your chest. Lily can sense your hesitation.

“Oh, come on. We used to share a dorm,” she says, as if things haven’t changed since then. As if swapping outfits with your married best friend is as normal as getting dressed in the dorm room you used to share.

One thing is still the same, though. Lily can still convince you to do just about anything.

“Right,” you mumble, stepping forward and slowly tugging the zipper down the length of her back, exposing the smooth skin underneath.

Lily lets the dress fall, the fabric pooling at her ankles. You look to the ceiling, trying not to stare, no matter how good she looks in her matching lingerie. Especially when she bends down, right in front of you, to collect the dress into her arms.

“Your turn,” she says, turning around to face you.

You gulp. Slowly, you turn around, choosing to face the wall as you undress.

“So modest,” Lily giggles as you pull your top over your head.

Soon, you’re both standing there in nothing but your underwear. Your face feels warm, and a part of you is embarrassed that your bra and panties are so plain compared to her lacy number. Especially when you catch her staring, but you convince yourself you must’ve imagined it as she passes you her dress.

When Lily finishes dressing in your outfit, she gives you a twirl. She looks beautiful in your clothes, better than you think you looked in them. Lily voices the same opinion about her dress on you.

“I might just have to let you keep it,” she says, eyeing you up and down.

“Don’t be silly,” you murmur, nervously fidgeting with the material of her dress.

Lily tilts her head. “There’s just one problem.”

“W-what?”

She steps closer, into your personal space, and hooks a finger under the strap of your bra.

“I think you’ll have to take this off.”

You choke on your own spit. “What? Wh-why?” you stammer.

“It’s peeking through the neckline,” she shrugs, ever so casual about asking her friend to take off her bra as eyes dart down to said friend’s chest.

Your gaze follows, and you realize that your bra is indeed visible under the dress, which has a neckline much lower than your previous outfit—and most of the outfits in your closet.

“Oh.”

You let Lily convince you to lose the bra, discarding it somewhere on her and James’s bedroom floor.

“Perfect!” she cheers. She takes your hand in hers again. “Let’s go show James!”

In front of James, you feel exposed. The fabric of the dress covers you, but only just so. And the material suddenly feels too thin. You fight the urge to cross your arms over your chest as James’s gaze falls on your chest, evidently noticing your lack of undergarments.

“You both look absolutely stunning,” James says, voice low as his eyes rake over both of your bodies in a way that makes you squirm.

Lily puts her hands on your waist, and a shiver runs down your spine. She steers you closer to James.

“Go on, give him a twirl,” she says playfully. So, laughing nervously, you do. And you nearly spin right into his lap.

“Whoa, there.” His hands shoot out to steady you by your hips. His legs are already spread wide, as if ready to accommodate you, as you find your balance between them.

“S-sorry,” you mumble, hoping he can’t hear your heart pounding the way you can.

“For what, love?” he asks, squeezing your hips.

The hair on the back of your neck stands up as you feel Lily settle in behind you, placing one hand over top of James’s as the other runs up and down your arm.

“For being too pretty, maybe,” she murmurs. You can feel her warm breath on the back of your neck.

“What are you…?”

“Oh, come on,” Lily sighs impatiently. “Are you gonna make us spell it out for you?” she asks, pushing the strap of the dress off your shoulder. She leans her cheek on the exposed space, batting her long eyelashes at you.

“Haven’t we been?” James laughs. One of his hands slides down to your thigh.

Maybe it isn’t the wine. Maybe it’s not your imagination either. You’ve known it, really—at least your body has. Every nervous laugh, every flicker of heat low in your stomach has been trying to tell you.

James smirks. He can see it on your face when it all clicks. He whispers your name in a low, velvety voice. His hand slowly creeps up the outside of your thigh, dipping just below the hemline of your dress. “Don’t tell me you don’t want us, too.”

You don’t say anything for a while, because your instinct is to tell them you don’t want this. They’re your friends. They’re married. But saying you don’t want this would be a lie.

“I don’t know if this is a good idea,” you murmur instead.

“Why not, baby?” Lily asks. Your heart gives a helpless flutter at the pet name, and stops altogether when you feel Lily’s lips ghost over your neck.

You stammer, trying to respond, but suddenly you can’t remember what you were going to say.

“Does it feel like a bad idea?” she asks. She presses a kiss right over your pulse point. “Or does it feel good?”

James sees the warring emotions swimming around your irises, conflict tangled with desire. He feels a smug satisfaction as Lily’s charm unravels you, and he feels his pants become a fraction tighter as he watches his wife seduce you.

Lily presses her lips firmly against your sweet skin, sucking a faint bruise there. “Does this feel good?” she whispers, blowing cold air onto the spot.

“Does this?” James asks, grin widening as his hand drifts from your thigh to your bum with shameless confidence, delivering a playful squeeze.

“Y-yes,” you choke out, unable to deny them—or yourself—any longer.

Lily nips at your earlobe. “We’ve always liked you, you know? Always thought you were so cute. So lovely.”

“You’re so special to us, sweetheart. Let us show you how much,” James says, gently kneading the plush flesh beneath his palm.

“Don’t you want that?” Lily murmurs, lips trailing a path along your jaw now.

“I do,” you say, too quickly, too eagerly. James and Lily share a triumphant look, and then they’re on you.

Lily turns your head and connects her lips with yours. James growls at the sight as his hands make quick work of the dress, slipping it over your head with Lily’s help. You gasp into Lily’s mouth as your tits are exposed to the cold air of the room, but it’s James’s mouth on them that makes you shiver.

You gasp, breaking the kiss to look down at him, to find him already looking at you as he sucks your hardened nipple between his lips.

“You really are so pretty,” Lily murmurs, her voice a mix of awe and affection. She trails kisses along your shoulder, over the back of your neck, down your spine. Showing you just how much she adores you with every kiss. Her lips are warm and soft, and everywhere they touch, heat blooms beneath your skin.

“Beautiful,” James concurs, giving you the same treatment. “Perfect.”

He nips at and runs his tongue over every inch of skin he can reach, lavishing your perfect tits in attention and kissing all the way down to your navel while his hands explore everywhere else with a reverent touch. Your hips, your ass, the back of your thighs.

You mewl at all the attention. You’ve been pretending that you didn’t crave this, but now that you have them—treating your body like something sacred—you don’t just sink into the feeling, you revel in it.

James hooks his fingers in the waistband of your panties.

“Can James take those off you, baby?” Lily asks, and you nod without a second thought.

James slides your panties down your legs, revealing your puffy cunt, lips glistening with your slick. “So fucking pretty,” James groans. His hands cup your thighs, thumbs dipping to play with your folds. You gasp, cheeks heating up, as he tugs on your lips and spreads you open.

Lily moves around your body to have a look too, a low noise of approval rumbling in her throat as she watches James ghost the pad of his thumb over your clit.

A whine slips past your lips at the teasing touch, and the embarrassment curling in your gut. You’re completely bare for them to feast their eyes on, for them to touch, and they haven’t even shed a sock.

“Relax, baby,” Lily says, taking your hand and pressing a firm kiss over your knuckles. “You’re perfect.”

The sweetness of Lily’s voice manages to soothe some of your nerves, and you manage a small smile as she leans closer to place a reassuring kiss on your lips.

“Go on and switch with James, yeah?” she says.

James stands from the sofa, letting you take his seat. But instead of standing between your legs like you were, he kneels.

“Can I taste you, sweetheart?” he asks, spreading your thighs with his large hands, already trailing kisses up your leg.

“Yes, please,” you breathe, the sound trembling with your desire.

James doesn’t waste any time, licking a slow stripe up your slit as soon as you say the word. He groans in pleasure at your sweet taste and buries his tongue between your folds, flattening the wet muscle against your clit.

You whine, arching your back off the sofa as his gentle licks slowly become rougher, more desperate.

Lily sits at your side, leaning into you to continue sucking pretty bruises onto the curve of your neck. One of her delicate hands cradles the back of your head, massaging your scalp. The other plays with your tits, pinching and tweaking at your nipples. Breathy moans spill from your lips at their every touch.

They work you to the edge embarrassingly fast. But just when your whines reach that shrill, frantic pitch, and your legs begin to tremble around James’s head, they both pull away.

You whine in protest at their denial, looking between them helplessly, your lip quivering pathetically.

“Shh, not yet, baby,” Lily coos, almost patronizingly. It makes you squirm. “Don’t you want to make us feel good too?”

Your expression changes, your features smoothing over, and you nod eagerly.

James stands between your legs, leaning over you to finally connect your lips in a sloppy kiss. He moans into it. You can taste yourself on his tongue as he slides it into your mouth.

When James pulls away, you see that Lily has moved to lie back against the armrest of the sofa, wearing nothing but your skirt, her middle finger swirling over her clit as she watches you and James kiss. The sight alone pulls a moan from your throat, and you don’t hesitate when James nudges you to crawl between her thighs.

“Go on. Show Lily how good you can make her feel, just like I showed you,” he instructs, smoothing a hand over the curve of your ass as he kneels behind you.

Lily removes her hand from between her legs, watching you intently as she sucks her own slick off her finger.

You dive in eagerly, pleasuring her with fast flicks of your tongue over her clit. Lily gasps sharply, throwing her head back over the armrest.

James chuckles behind you, running a hand through your hair. “Easy, sweetheart. She likes it when you start a little slow. We’re not in any rush, yeah?”

You take James’s guidance, slowing down. You try to match how James worked his mouth over you before, the slow build from gentle to feverish. Lily rewards your efforts with high-pitched whines.

“Fuck, baby, just like that,” she moans.

You feel James’s hand between your legs, his fingers running up and down your folds before he plunges one into your welcoming hole. His patience is running thin, and he soon replaces his fingers with his cock after lazing pushing his trousers halfway down his thighs.

He nudges your entrance with his leaky tip, and you eagerly push your hips back against him. Granting permission. James doesn’t need to be told twice, and he slowly pushes into you.

Your mouth falls open with a moan as he bottoms out. He’s bigger than you expected, and your walls burn at the stretch.

With a hand on the back of your head, Lily quickly pushes your mouth back on her, distracting you from the dull pain as James slowly begins to move.

As James picks up the pace and power of his thrusts, your hand climbs Lily’s thigh. You push a finger into her dripping hole, then a second, curling them inside of her. She cries out your name in pleasure, and you swear you’ve never heard anything more lovely in your life.

James grunts behind you with every thrust. He wraps his arm around your waist and finds your clit with his fingers. You moan into Lily’s pussy as he rubs fast circles over the swollen bud, and the vibrations from the noise make Lily cry out again.

“Just like that, baby. Don’t stop,” she squeals. You wouldn’t dream of stopping now, not when she’s desperately rocking her hips against your face as you work her closer and closer to her climax.

Lily cums with a loud moan, a gush of her juices spraying from her sensitive cunt, soaking your face and the sofa. Her arousal drops down your chin as you lick up every last drop you can.

“Fuck,” James moans, his voice trembling as he watches the obscene display over your head. “Gonna fucking cum.”

“You’ll let James cum inside you. Won’t you, baby?” Lily asks, every word breathless and heavy on her tongue, spent from the orgasm you gave her.

“Yes,” you whimper, leaning your cheek against Lily’s thigh. “James, please,” you say, on the brink of an orgasm of your own.

James leans over you, his front pressed against your back. A deep groan leaves his throat, reverberating against your skin where he buries his face into your shoulder. Hot spurts of cum paint your inner walls as they contract, your own orgasm ripping through you in tandem. You cry out, one hand gripping Lily’s thigh with bruising force.

“That’s it,” she coos, running her fingers through your hair. “So pretty when you cum, baby. So beautiful. You did so good for us.”

James presses a few chaste kisses to the sweat-sheened skin of your back as he pulls out. You feel his cum dripping down your thigh. James sees it, cursing under his breath as his creamy release leaks from your hole.

Lily rests a hand on your cheek. Your eyelids are heavy, and you gaze up at her between slow blinks. She runs her thumb over your swollen lip, admiring how worn out you look.

“You’ll stay the night, won’t you?” she murmurs.

“Of course,” you agree without a second thought.

You spend the night in their warm bed, cocooned in soft blankets, tangled between James and Lily. Their arms curl around your body, holding you close, and you’ve never felt more at home. Just before drifting off, a fleeting worry crosses your mind about how this night might change things between the three of you.

It does change things, but there was no reason to worry, because you wouldn’t trade what you’ve gained for the world.

every reblog and comment means the world <3 i’d love to hear your thoughts

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[daiziesssart]

you have your mother’s eyes

[ellecdc]

Hi! Can I request any marauder era coupling with a pregnant reader who is so far past her due date she is begging for sex cause it induces labor.

-🍼

sure! thanks for your request <3

poly!wolfstar x pregnant!reader who is past her due date [451 words]

CW: pregnancy trope, afab!reader, fem!reader, references dick and sex but nothing explicit

The call connects on the third ring.

“Hey, love. How-”

“When are you coming home?” 

Remus’ brows furrow and his hands slow, the phone tucked between his ear and his shoulder as he sifts through the essays he is yet to grade. 

“Hello, my love.” He tries again, a teasing smile on his lips as Sirius huffs petulantly on the other end of the phone. “My day is going well, thank you. How’s yours?”

“Yeah, yeah, Moons. I don’t have time for pleasantries.” Sirius hisses. “When are you coming home?”

“Is everything okay?” Remus asks warily; if you’d gone into labour, Sirius’ first words would hardly have been “when are you coming home?” but more likely a “get your arse to the hospital.” As it stands, you’re nearly a week and a half past your due date; the boys are almost as desperate as you are for the babe to come.

Almost. 

“No, everything is not okay.”  Remus can hear Sirius walking before a door clicks shut behind him, his next sentence coming out louder now that you’re out of ear shot. “My dick is going to fall off.”

Not the best time to take a sip of coffee. 

“I beg your pardon?” Remus sputters, quickly dabbing up the beads of coffee off of his students’ papers. 

“My dick, Moony.” Sirius presses. “It is going to fall off. We have been trying to induce labour all bloody afternoon and I need you to tap in.”

Stuck between wanting to groan on your behalf and laugh on Sirius’ behalf, he opts to let out a sigh instead. “Sirius, I-”

“Remus.”

“Why don’t you try taking her to do some curb walking?”

“You take her to do curb walking, Remus. You take her!”

“Alright, alright. Listen,” Remus starts, taking a quick scan of his desk as he mentally prioritizes the tasks he still has left for the day, “I have a few more papers to-”

“Remus Lupin, so help me God, if you do not get your fine ass home in the next hour I am going to rip out the 33rd page of every single book you own.”

The line is swallowed up by a few beats of silence. 

“You’ve lost the plo-”

“My dick is going to fall off.” Sirius counters, deadly low. 

A blind and silent Western stand off takes place between the two men before Remus sighs in defeat. “I’ll leave in the next twenty minutes.”

“Smart lad, Lupin.” Is all Sirius replies before the call ends. 

The baby’s eviction notice has officially been served. Remus sends a small prayer up to the labour gods that – between the two of them – they’ll be able to help you induce labour. 

© ellecdc; do not copy, translate, or repost my work anywhere under any circumstances.

[thenyoumightaswellwrestleangels]

You know, I think I've always loved you (I think I always knew)

absinthe makes the heart grow fonder - series masterlist here

pairing: poly marauders x reader (gender neutral, no use of y/n)

length: 1.7k

genre: rockstar au !! fluff, kinda angsty hurt/comfort

warnings: what if you were in love with them and they were in love with you and no one admitted it but then you all hooked up and then the truth had to come out, post-sex morning after conversation, but still very sfw, that's literally the whole fic

a/n: I'm completing marauders month aren't we all so happy

"Your callouses are terrible," you murmur, your voice muddled by your pillow as you lie face down, your cheek pressed against the soft silk.

"I worked very hard for these callouses, actually," Remus says quietly, still smoothing his fingers up and down your spine. The sheets of the hotel bed have been kicked down to your waist, and goosebumps prick across your naked skin as you turn your head away from him to press your other cheek against the pillow.

"Where's James?" you murmur as your eyes land on Sirius's sleeping face, his eyes fluttered closed.

"Getting coffee," Remus murmurs. You turn your head back to half look at him, and he's haloed by the early morning sun and his sleep-tousled hair.

"Does he know he doesn't have to do that himself?" you tease, but it's quiet - subdued in the gentle morning.

"He likes being independent," Remus supplies. 

"Fame might be wasted on him," is your murmured response. "What time is it?"

"Early, still. We've got time," Remus assures you, but it's a futile effort, really.

"Close your eyes," you command him quietly, and he does so with a quirk of his brow. He hears, then, the shuffling of you getting up and moving around, as well as Sirius's groan at being half woken up.

"Do you think we… need to do this?" Remuss asks slowly, and the question hangs in the room for a bit too long.

"You can open your eyes now," you say in lieu of responding, and when he does, he's greeted with you sitting cross-legged on the bed. You've gotten dressed, a t-shirt and underwear thrown on hastily. 

"Love…" Remus starts tentatively.

"You're dressed, too," you point out before he can continue. "There's no reason for me to be the only one naked." When Remus's eyes flicker past you to Sirius, you crane your head around to see his point. He lies sprawled on his back, inky black tattoos winding down his torso and disappearing with his dark happy trail to where the blankets are covering him precariously low.

"Well," you continue as you look back at Remus. "Sirius is only half dressed at the best of times, so - you know. Different circumstances."

"You're both awfully loud," comes Sirius's voice from behind you, groggy and deep. He rolls towards you, slinging an arm around your waist as he closes his eyes again, and you feel the air catch in your lungs. "What are we talking about?"

"Nothing," you insist.

"We're waiting until James is back to talk," Remus adds on.

"No," you insist. "We're not waiting for anything." But it's too late, you realize haltingly. Sirius's arm tenses around you, and he slowly pulls back and away from you to sit up.

"Oh," he says flatly as he tries to shake the sleep off. "We're talking."

"We're not," you say pointedly as you climb out of bed, sidestepping both of them and aiming for the door. "I have to get ready for soundcheck."

"We have hours," Remus points out.

"You're half naked," Sirius adds, but it's only James swinging the hotel room door open that has you finally freezing.

"Oh," he startles as he nearly bumps into you, four coffees held in a tray rather precariously. "Hello, lovely. Are you… going somewhere?" His eyes flicker down to your legs, and you reroute to find a pair of sweatpants somewhere in the mess of clothes strewn about. James watches on with bemusement as he ambles over to the bed and puts one of the coffees in Sirius's outstretched hand.

"Dove," Remus begins, standing slowly as you toss a t-shirt out of your way.

"Why can't I find anything in here?" you ask no one.

"Because this is my room, not yours," Sirius supplies from the bed. You freeze, your back to all of them as you face the wall.

"Oh - my god," you murmur haltingly. Remus reaches out to you, sort of - it's an almost brush of his fingers against your shoulder before he thinks better of it and gives you your space. 

"Baby," James says earnestly, and there's a softness there that very nearly makes you crumble. "Please come over here?"

"We have things to do," you insist, unmoving.

"Yes," Sirius agrees. "Talking about this before you have some kind of panic attack is first on the list."

"I'm not having a panic attack," you snap as you whirl around to face him, but the sight of all three of them makes you sway back a bit. Sirius doesn't really look primed for a fight. He looks hurt, worry and fear all tangled up in his eyes. James and Remus, you realize as your gaze flits around, aren't much better. 

"I'm sorry," you say slowly, a forced calm levelling your voice. "We don't have to talk about it, and you don't have to worry."

"Well, I'd like to talk about it," James pipes up gently.

"I think we all would," Remus adds.

"Think of it like a band meeting," Sirius supplies, patting the bed next to him. You scoff, but move, still, until you're sitting on the foot of the bed with a good deal of space between yourself and the three of them. 

"What do you think happened last night?" Remus asks, and despite the gentle tone of his voice, you can't help but feel a bit like you're on trial.

"You know what happened," you quip in response, but Sirius clicks his tongue.

"Humour us," he prompts. 

"We had sex," you say flatly. "So…"

"Do you regret that?" Remus asks, and when you look at him, your heart halts a bit in your chest at how small he looks.

"It's just sex," you blurt out, a desperate attempt to patch it all up - a misguided method that has him slouching down further into himself.

Sirius says your name rather sternly, then, and your gaze snaps to him at the unusual edge. 

"You know what I think happened?" James offers, and although you recognize an olive branch when one's extended, you can't help but feel your hackles raise just a bit. "I think I finally… finally got to spend the night with the people who mean most to me in my life. And I'm, actually, incredibly glad that it happened."

"Well, you're a real romantic, aren't you?" you quip, a shoddy defence against the weight of it all. But Sirius's voice, sharper now as he says your name again, tears down what little walls you were beginning to build up.

"What?" you snap, desperate and scared as it all begins to spin around you.

"Are you saying it meant nothing?" Sirius counters, like he can bully it out of you. He has before, you think weakly, so maybe he is onto something. "Are you saying it was a stupid mistake? That you're going to just pretend it never happened, and we'll all go back to ignoring all of this?"

"You know that's not it," you counter, but your voice is quiet - wavering and soft in a way that already feels defeated. 

"We don't, really, unless you say it," Remus reminds you, his voice a bit small, a bit sad. "We can hope, but that's really it."

"I never had to say it before," you counter weakly.

"But things are different now, aren't they?" James offers, and it's supposed to be soothing - you know it is.

"Yes, I know," you stress, your voice faltering. "Everything's different now. I get it, I -" You pause, then, bunching the covers of the hotel bed in your hands as you stare down at the space between you all. "Aren't any of you worried about that?"

"No," Remus supplies softly. "I'm rather afraid that I'll lose the people I love because I don't act on it, though."

"That's funny," you say weakly. "I'd say we're opposites, then, if we're talking about this."

"You're not doing anything wrong," James says in response, in that sturdy, gentle way of his that makes everything slow down a bit more.

"I tried to run away without even getting dressed," you remind him.

"Thank god James body blocked the door, then," Sirius chimes in, and you'd be rather offended if you weren't so relieved to hear the teasing mirth in his voice. It relaxes something in you, ever so slightly, and you slouch down a bit where you sit.

"I'm not ready to deal with this yet," you say quietly - an honest truth, finally. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have let last night happen, knowing that."

"Were you… uncomfortable last night?" James asks, a nauseous sort of worry wafting through his voice.

"No," you disagree quickly,  a pitchy sort of laugh leaving you. "No, that part I - that, I was fine with."

"God forbid we see you naked, even after we've seen you with your clothes off," Sirius quips, and you fix him with an imploring look.

"Don't be mean," you retort, but there's something gentle wrapped around your voice that softens the blow of your words.

"You don't have to be ready to talk about it right now," Remus interjects kindly. "Just… don't run away on us, yea?"

"Because we'll wait until you are," James adds earnestly.

"Even if it takes the whole tour?" you counter. Sirius scoffs.

"Don't be so dramatic," he says pointedly. "Even if it takes a lifetime of tours, babe."

"That's more dramatic," you counter.

"Whatever," he waves you off, lying back down and stretching his arms over his head, three pairs of eyes tracing the tattoos littering his skin. "Drink your coffee before it gets cold, or you'll make Jamie sad."

"You're fucking bossy," you say, even as you take the cup from James, who beams, squeezing your hand in his.

"You didn't mind that last night."

"Shut up," you threaten Sirius. "Or I will make you wait the whole tour."

"See, now," Remus starts tiredly, but James just hands him his own coffee placatingly.

"Oh, don't stop them," he insists. "It's always a good show."

[moonstruckme]

Hi lovely!!!!! Hope you’re having just the best day! I was wondering if you could write a poly emt marauders x reader and maybe ready get really really badly hurt and she calls her boyfriends to come get her, but her one condition is that she wants them to come get her on a normal car. She doesn’t want and ambulance; like she really doesn’t want one, because it’s too expensive for her. I don’t know, I live in a place where healthcare isn’t affordable at all, and financially conscious/anxious reader would be so heartening to read.

Hey sweetheart, thank you for requesting!! Because the marauders are in the UK and I didn't want to take them out, I just sort of made it so that reader hasn't always lived in the UK and so the thought of ambulances being free is new to her. Hope you like it <3

cw: anxiety around money/debt, reader is from some unspecified place without free healthcare

emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words

Sirius’ phone rings just as they’re pulling out of the ambulance bay. 

“Hello, my lovely,” he purrs into the speaker. James watches Remus perk up a bit behind the wheel, though he only lets his eyes flick over before they’re back on the road. “How’s it going?”

Though he can’t make out what you say in reply, the sound of your voice through Sirius’ speaker is enough to brighten James’ day. He smiles, but Sirius goes stiff. 

“Why didn’t you call 999?” he asks. 

Both James and Remus look over then. 

James leans closer to try and hear. “Is she okay?” 

“No, dar—” A pained twinge crosses Sirius’ expression. “Shh, hey. Hey. I’m going to put you on speaker, one moment.”

“What’s the matter?” Remus asks lowly. Sirius shakes his head, clicking a button. 

“You there?” 

“Yeah.” One word, and yet terror-stricken enough that James’ heart clenches in apprehension. You sound quiet and wavering, like you’re speaking from far away. 

Sirius’ fingers are rigid around the phone, but his tone is coaxing. “Tell us what’s happening, baby.” 

“Are…are you all at work?” 

Remus’ brow furrows where he’s looking out the windshield. James has heard it, too; your voice isn’t just faraway, you sound out of it, like someone who’s concussed or in shock. 

“We are,” Remus tells you. “What’s wrong?” 

“Oh.” You take a breath, and then the sob that cracks through the speaker has James biting down on the flesh of his cheek. “I need—I need help.” 

“Where are you?” 

“But no ambulance.”

James blinks. Remus’ train of thought visibly stalls, his head doing a little shake of confusion, while Sirius’ mouth only pinches like this is something he’s already heard from you. 

James makes an effort to sound amenable when he asks, “You don’t want us to come in an ambulance?” 

“No.” 

“Why not, lovely?”

“James, I’m not—I can’t pay for that right now. I can’t.” 

“You don’t—” James looks to Sirius in bafflement. 

“You wouldn’t have to pay,” Sirius tells you. 

“Where are you?” Remus asks again. 

“I can’t.” Your hiccuping cries tear at James’ guts like shrapnel. “You can’t bring the ambulance.” 

James opens his mouth to reassure you that your worries are baseless, but Sirius cuts him off. “Okay,” he says. “No ambulance. Where are you?” 

In the beat of hesitation it takes you to reply, all three boys gravitate towards the phone. “I’m at home.” 

Remus has the siren on and is turning around in an instant. 

“Okay,” says James, “we’re on our way. Just a few minutes from you.” 

“Not in the—in the ambulance?” 

“That’s right,” Sirius lies smoothly. He only looks a tiny bit guilty; James doubts he’d see any evidence of it at all if he didn’t know where to look. “Can you tell us what happened now?” 

“I had—I was trying to move my dresser, and it fell on me.” Once again, James notices the distant quality to your voice, the strange spacing between your words. Anxiety for you winds tight around his ribcage. 

“Is it still on top of you?” he asks. 

Your answering hum sounds watery. 

“Do you know how badly you’re hurt? Does anything feel broken, did you hit your head?” 

“I don’t know. I don’t know, I—” You suck in more air for a sob. “I think maybe both, but I can’t—I can’t tell.” 

Sirius makes sweet shushing sounds into the phone, and though they’re not meant for him James breathes a bit more deeply. 

“It’s okay,” Sirius soothes you. “Just tell us what you can, pretty girl. Did you lose consciousness at any point?” 

They take turns asking you questions and holding their breaths (or at least James does) for your uncertain replies until Remus is pulling up at your curb. Sirius hangs up the phone with the promise that they’ll see you in less than a minute, and the three boys nearly fall prey to injury themselves scrambling to get to your door. It’s unlocked, luckily—though Remus looks disapproving as well as relieved. James makes it to your bedroom first, where he’s blocked by the sight of the splintered wooden dresser laying in front of your doorway. 

“Angel?” he calls as he navigates his way carefully inside. 

Your reply is more sigh than word. “Hi.” 

You look as weary as you sound, sprawled out on the floor with most of you pinned by the wrecked dresser and your head resting in the crook of your elbow. Just by looking at you, James can tell you must be hurt badly. He doesn’t see how you could have fallen the way you have without fracturing at least a couple ribs, and your complexion has the ashen hue of shock. 

“Hi, sweetheart.” Remus tries the same thing James had, taking a long step across the dresser. James holds out a hand to help him over. “How are you feeling?” 

Your hum is noncommittal, but the worry in it undercuts the intent. “Sorry to call you at work.” 

“This is exactly what our work is for,” Remus replies patiently. He kneels beside you, putting his fingers to the pulse point inside your wrist while James clicks on a pen light to check your eyes for signs of a concussion. 

“Yeah, but because you don’t have the ambulance…” You clearly expect one of them to finish the thought for you, and grow bemused when neither does. Sirius is silent as he looks underneath the dresser for ways to free you. “It’s different, isn’t it?” 

“We do have the ambulance,” James says, ignoring Sirius’ wince. He’s not a good enough liar to keep it up, and anyway they’re already here; the jig is up. He regrets his frankness a tad, however, when you go impossibly paler. “Sweetheart—”

“No. No, I can’t afford it.” Your eyes go from swimming to drowning in an instant, tears spilling from your lashes. Your breathing takes up a frantic pace. “I can’t, I’ll—”

“It’s okay, listen.” James’ voice gets all tangled up with yours as you talk over each other. He takes your face into his hands. “Listen to me. Listen. You’re confused, sweetheart. There’s no cost for an ambulance here. Are you hearing me?” 

You don’t seem like you are, but something in James’ explanation intrigues you enough that you go quiet. He presses a firm kiss to your forehead. 

“The NHS pays for it. You don’t have to worry, okay? Not about that.” 

Another silent tear dribbles down your nose as you murmur, “Oh.” 

James laughs breathlessly, the tension in him loosening some. “Yeah. It’s okay, really. Will you let us take care of you now?” 

You look as though you’re still reeling a bit from this change, but you nod dazedly. 

Sirius tsks. “That’s better. Can’t believe you were really going to lie here waiting for us to get off our shift just because you thought the NHS was going to rob you blind.” 

“Well, I…” Now that you’re coming down from your panic, your voice is quieter, more sheepish. James instructs you to track his finger with your eyes, and you do, watching him as you speak to Sirius. “I didn’t think it’d be worth it going deep into debt.” 

“Oh.” Remus makes a pained sound before leaning over to kiss your cheek. “It’s always worth it for you to be safe, sweet girl. Please don’t say that.”

“But you don’t have to choose,” James reminds you. 

You let out a sigh. “That’s nice.” 

Sirius pouts. “Poor thing. As if putting up with us isn’t enough, you thought they were going to charge you for it, too.” 

“They should be paying you,” James agrees, gratified when your lips give a slight tug. 

“Precisely.” Sirius keeps his tone light as they all go about their work, finally falling into a rhythm now that you’ve calmed. “Unfortunately that’s not the case, but at least you won’t be penalized any further.”

[dreaming-softly-in-the-night]

This Is New | R Lupin

In which Remus' favourite jumper is accidentally shrunken, and the Marauders hatch a genius (insane) plan involving your animagus form to restore it to its former glory.

f i c t o b e r d a y t w o

warnings: animagus!reader, fem!reader, the marauders are idiots, one moment of Remus having dirty thoughts because this boy is down bad (sue me), swearing, no use of Y/N | word count: 1886 words

note: wow this was meant to be out like a week ago but Greece smacked me in the face with a lack of wifi that drove me INSANE

“Well, this is new.”

Remus hesitated at the portrait hole of the Gryffindor common room, cloak and hair still damp from the rain that had been drizzling persistently for the last few days, blanketing Hogwarts and the surrounding mountains in a fine layer of damp.

The common room was mostly abandoned, with only a few stragglers at the study tables and the loud and boisterous group he despaired to call friends loitering around the fire. Along with, he noted with a sudden warm jolt in his chest, you.

Well, not you exactly.

The small cat blinked up at him from Sirius’s shoulder, all wide eyes and unrurly fur, unfairly adorable as you dug your claws into the leather of Sirius’s jacket.

It wasn’t your animagus form that was the cause of such bewilderment – lord knew he had seen it often enough during full moon nights or evenings of general mischief that the sight was more than familiar.

What was strange, however, was the old brown jumper that was far too familiar, and far too small, considering it had been human sized when he had worn it the day before. 

Remus cleared his throat, catching the attention of the group. “... Is that my jumper?”

James, who had frozen like a deer in headlights – he gave himself a mental high five for that pun – lifted his hands placatingly. His round glasses slid down his nose as he shot Remus a bashful grin. 

“Ah. Moony.”

“Uh oh,” Peter mumbled as he hid behind the long scroll that was his Charms essay. Remus could see the bumps in the parchment where his friend had frantically scribbled out sentences – almost the entire essay, by the look of things.

“Sirius.” Remus crossed his arms over his chest, knowing damn well who to was blame, levelling him with his best unamused glare whilst trying to tamp down the amusement steadily rising inside of him. 

It wasn’t funny, not really – he didn’t have many jumpers, and that one happened to be one of his favourites – but something about how adorable you looked, blinking innocently up at him, swaddled in his (albeit miniature) jumper, illuminated by the golden glow of the flames slowly dying to embers in the fire, had his heart softening to the point where it was truly impossible to be mad. 

He could never be mad at you. It was practically impossible. He hated it. He adored it. 

Sirius and James, however? Oh, it was more than possible to be mad at them, and he was incredibly eager to demonstrate if they didn’t start talking soon.

“Explain.”

James winced. “Don’t be mad–”

“When a person starts a sentence with that phrase, it rarely means anything good.”

You meowed in agreement from atop Sirius’s shoulder, and he gently scooped you up to settle you on the arm of the sofa. 

“You were better off holding her,” Peter said, not looking up from his essay. “He won’t hit you if you’re holding her.”

Sirius hesitated and then slowly reached down to you again. You batted his hand away and hissed, and Remus was unfairly thrilled at the offended look on Sirius’s face as he cradled his hands against his chest, scowling.

“Oh, so now you won’t let me pick you up? That’s hardly fair.”

“You were trying to use her as a human shield.” James shrugged. “Or feline shield, rather.” 

“Says the one who bribed her to do this by promising her ten of your chocolate frog cards and a pack of cauldron cakes!”

You purred as you strided across the arm of the sofa and up to James, rubbing your head against his hand. 

Remus cleared his throat, thoroughly agitated. “Excuse me, but would you lot care to tell me why the bloody hell my shrunken jumper is on my girlfriend?”

At the sound of his voice, Sirius and James winced again simultaneously. 

“Right. That.” James said tightly. “Well, you see – Sirius can explain.”

“What?!” Sirius exclaimed incredulously. “This was your idea!”

“You’re the one who shrunk it!”

“It was an accident, you pillock!”

“Pete, care to chime in here?” Remus asked, thoroughly exasperated.

Peter shook his head, ears pink. “Not particularly.”

Remus sighed. “Yeah, didn’t think so. Alright,” he said loudly, cutting through the squabble. “If neither of you explains within the next twenty seconds, then James, I’m telling Lily you skirked off prefect duties last week.”

“What?!”

“Hah!” Sirius raised his fist in the air in victory.

“And Sirius,” Remus continued, “I’m telling Janice you were recently at the hospital wing for a horrific rash on your… unmentionables.”

Sirius’s jaw dropped. “You wouldn’t.”

Remus’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Try me.”

There was a moment of tense silence, in which your head swivelled between each Marauder, eyes wide with excitement, before James threw a hand up and pointed at Sirius. “It was his fault!”

“Oi!”

“We were trying to help Pete out with his Charms essay, and we were showing him how to do a shrinking charm, and your girl had brought the jumper down earlier for when she got cold later and Sirius tried to shrink the plant pot and missed and now your jumper is tiny and–”

“We were gonna fix it though!” Sirius said quickly, noting Remus’s expression of pure bewilderment. 

“And how, pray tell, is putting the shrunken jumper on a cat fixing it?”

“Well,” James said proudly. “We had an absolutely brilliant idea to set things right.”

“Foolproof, really.” Sirius nodded.

“Yes, but is it you two proof? Because if not, I can’t see it working well.” Remus ran a tired hand over his eyes. Sometimes, more often than not, it felt like he was raising his friends and doing a spectacularly bad job at it. 

A gentle pressure against his palm caught his attention, and he glanced down to see that you had moved silently across the sofa, coming to rest at his side. You blinked up at him slowly, and his heart melted in his chest as he bent slightly to scoop you up. 

“Hey, dovey,” he said softly, nestling you against his chest. 

You purred in response, bumping your little nose against his chin. 

James scoffed. “Blatant favouritism. She bit me when I tried to pick her up earlier.”

“Deserved,” Remus said unapologetically, scratching lightly behind your ears. “And none of that explains why she is wearing my jumper.”

“Well, animagi don’t lose their clothes when they turn into animals, right? Like, we turn back with them on, don’t we?”

“Right,” Remus nodded, not even pretending to understand how that little bit of magic worked.

It was a blessing, considering how often his friends ran around the castle in animal form – at least this way they didn’t have to stash clothes everywhere on the off chance one of them would end up wandering around naked.

He felt his cheeks flush at the thought as he ran his fingers soothingly over your fur, trying to banish the idea of you naked from his head. Lord knew that was hardly the time. 

“Well, in theory, they shrink with us, correct?” James continued.

Remus squinted, having absolutely no idea where this was going. “Well, you hardly wander around wearing your leather jacket as a dog.”

Sirius was silent for a moment before he turned to James with a grin. “Can we try that? That would be fucking awesome.”

“No, you cannot try that,” Remus snapped before James could answer. “The smell of dog would never come out.”

“I do not smell like dog!”

Peter’s nose wrinkled. “Well…”

Sirius went white. “Oh my god… do I smell like dog?”

“Oi, idiots.” Remus rolled his eyes and gestured to the cat curled up in his arms. “Please?”

“Oh, right.” James looked bashful. “Well, we thought that if the clothes shrink with us then surely they’ll grow with us too, right?”

Remus had a sinking suspicion where this was going, and prayed that he was wrong.

“So, theoretically, if she was wearing your jumper as a cat, when she turned human again, the jumper would grow with her. You know, back to its normal size!”

There was a moment of stunned silence in which Remus questioned every single life decision he had ever made, namely letting the two idiots in front of him sit in his compartment that day in first year on the Hogwarts Express.

“You…” Remus felt his left eye twitch. “You’re joking.”

Sirius crossed his arms. “Give me one reason it wouldn’t work!”

“Hmm, I don’t know, how about I give you a dozen of them, namely the pieces of my favourite jumper that will be all over the floor when the damn thing rips!”

“It won’t rip!” James argued, looking thoroughly offended. “It’ll just grow back to its normal size, and then you would have been none the wiser, except you just had to come back from your walk early and stop us right before the magic happened.”

Remus looked at him incredulously. “Are you even hearing yourself, Prongs? Magic.”

Both James and Sirius stared at him blankly. You made a noise in his arms that sounded an awful lot like a disappointed sigh. Peter lowered his head into his hands.

“Idiots. You’re both idiots. You’re wizards, you twats! Just use Engorgio on it! Or have the last six years at this school been for absolutely nothing?”

More blank stares. 

Sirius bashfully rubbed his neck. “Didn’t think of that.”

“Mhm.” James ran a hand over his mouth. “Well. That’s a… perfectly reasonable, rational, sensible solution there, Moony.”

Remus rolled his eyes, feeling the beginnings of a migraine slowly tugging behind his eyes. With a loving scratch behind the ear, he deposited you down on the couch, where you waited patiently, blinking up at him dopily.

“So… we just take it off her? And use magic to regrow it?”

James looked at Sirius blankly. “How the hell did neither of us consider that?”

“You were too excited about putting a jumper on a cat,” Peter chimed in, finally deeming it safe enough to look up from his essay. 

“Right. Yes.” Sirius stared down at you and grinned. “Worth it.”

“Oh, for God’s sake–” Remus reached forwards to remove the jumper, but James leapt in front of you protectively, arms outstretched widely. 

“Wait!”

“For the love of Merlin, what?”

“You know what else is a great spell?” James asked, eyes bright. “Repairo. You know, the magic fixer of all things broken. Or, in this case, ripped.”

“... You want me to let you try it anyway, don’t you?”

Sirius nodded. “Very much so, yes.”

Remus looked blankly at Peter.

Peter shrugged bashfully. “In the name of science?”

He hated his group of friends. Really, truly he did. If he hadn’t spent six years growing awfully attached to them, he’d insist on finding new ones. As it were, he sighed wearily and stepped back, tucking his wand back into his pocket. 

“Fine, fucking hell. But I reserve the right to say I told you so.”

One ripped jumper, a laughing you, and several frantic repair spells later, Remus had his (thankfully intact and normal sized) jumper back, and was content to sit with the knowledge that as usual, he was right, and his friends were complete idiots. 

They were his idiots though, he supposed, and his life was better for it.

[eden-writes-stuff]

tags: Remus teaches Sirius to wank, black family trauma, mutual masturbation, NSFW, 18+ (can be read as dub-con if you want to)

"Fuck, not again", Sirius groaned, burying his face in the pillows. This seemed to happen more and more often the older he got.

It was almost painful this time. Like he had to pee really badly, but paired with a need to punch something. As always he decided to ignore it and got up to pull the curtains around his bed aside.

"Morning, Pads", Remus mumbled, looking up from his book. Remus always spent the holiday mornings in his bed, reading. It was a comforting sight. "Morning, Moons", Sirius yawned, before sitting up

"Oh, shit. Do... You know what, I'll go and read in the common room", Remus said and cleared his throat, just as Sirius stretched for a bit. "What? Why? You like your mornings in bed", Sirius answered, confused. 

"It's fine, I'll... just give you the time you need..." Remus got off of his bed, taking his book with him and made his way towards the door.

"Time for what?" "Sirius, you are aware, you got a... you know...?" He lifted an eyebrow as if to tell him something, which only confused the oldest Marauder more. "A what?" He looked down on himself, checking for stains on his clothes. "It's not my hair, is it?", he said, looking up at him, then launching at him, grabbing him by the shoulders. "Moony, tell me there's nothing wrong with my hair!", he pressed on.

"What? No. Not your hair. You... you got a raging boner", Remus answered, stepping back a bit,  then glancing down.

"A what? Oh, that... what's wrong with it? It will go away in a bit." Moony obviously hadn't expected that answer. "Well, yeah. But wouldn't you like to... do something about it?" "Do what? There isn't anything to be done", Sirius shrugged.

Now Remus was the confused one. "Of course there is." When Sirius just stared at him, he sighed. "You know... playing around? fiddling? tossing off? automanipulation? beat the meat?"

"How is beating meat gonna help me get rid of this thing?", he asked.

For a while, they just stared at each other. "You really have no idea, do you?", Remus asked eventually. "I thought I made that clear."

"So... you've been having this... thing for a while. And it just sometimes happens... And when it does you always just wait until it goes away?" "What else would I do?"

Remus looked between the door and Sirius, obviously trying to decide between fight and flight. "I can't believe no one ever told you about this." He laid his book aside and leaned against the door, eyeing Sirius.

"Then tell me now. What's that dark secret everyone has been hiding from me?", he asked, getting slightly irritated.

"I'm really not sure that I'm the right-" "Please, Moony! you can't just leave me hanging now." Remus groaned quietly, then nodded. "Fine. It's usually called wanking or jerking off. It's... Fucking hell, how do you explain that?", he ran his hand through his hair, "Well, basically... It's the same motions as when you're cleaning your broom. You know, you got the lengthy, round thing and then you just... rub over it. Have fun with it", he tried.

For a few seconds, Sirius thought about it. "So I'm supposed to take my penis into my hand and rub over it? That doesn't sound very fun." "Well, I didn't invent it. Don't complain to me", Remus shrugged.

"Show me", Sirius demanded. "What?"

"Show me." "No. Absolutely not." "Come on, Moons. We're friends, aren't we? Friends help each other out." Remus was about to argue when he realised that this might be his only ever chance at seeing Sirius Black naked. It was wrong. Very wrong to use it like this.

"You'll have to take your clothes off if you want me to show you", he warned him. Sirius shrugged. "I'm not the one with the body issues."

Remus took a deep breath in before slowly walking toward his bed. Sirius followed him, thankful for any help he'd get.

"Alright, how do you need me?" Sirius asked, suddenly feeling a bit shy. "Just get comfortable", Remus answered, relaxing into the warmth of his pillows with enough place for Sirius to fit next to him.

"I should take my clothes off first though, right?" "Yeah, that would make it a lot easier", Remus agreed. For some reason, he felt the need to look away as Sirius undressed. It wasn't like he wouldn't see it anyways, but something about this felt too vulnerable for him to watch.

After a bit, he felt a weight on the bed next to him and glanced over. His mouth went dry at once.

"Moony? Is... there isn't anything wrong with me, is there?"

"What? No. Fuck! Sorry. No. Absolutely not. You... You're erm..", his voice sounded hoarse, "It's longer than most others. Between most guys that's a bragging right", he gave Sirius a small smile. "Oh... That's good then", Sirius answered, staring at his dick.

"It doesn't usually look like this." "Well, yeah. It gets harder when you're horny. Basically, all the blood from your brain goes down there", Remus explained. "Why?" "Not sure. I'm not an expert or anything either." "Okay... So, show me what to do."

Remus raised an eyebrow. "You mean- You want me to touch it?", he asked carefully. "I don't know!" Sirius groaned. "I don't know anything about any of this, okay? You're a good teacher, I've seen you help the others studying." "Well, this isn't exactly studying, but yeah, sure..." He would burn in hell for this.

"Alright then, is it okay for you if I touch it?" Sirius nodded. Remus tried to breathe evenly.

Slowly and softly Remus let his hand slide along Sirius' cock, earning a soft gasp and a slight arch of his hips. Careful not to squeeze too hard, Remus wrapped his fingers around the bright pink flesh and started moving it up and down.

"Moony!" Sirius wasn't sure what exactly was happening to him, but Godric, he never wanted it to stop. Remus couldn't help but stare at his face. He was ethereal. 

"Moony- You- I- hng!" Sirius' hands gripped the sheets as his hips automatically jerked upward to get more and more. He couldn't look away. Never in his life had Remus seen something quite this gorgeous. He had to stop. He wasn't here to get Sirius off, he was here to teach him. Biting down on his lower lip, he slowed his movements before stopping completely and letting go.

Sirius sighed in disappointment, looking toward Remus at the loss of warmth. Remus swallowed. "Give me your hand", he ordered, holding out his own, as an invite for Sirius. Gently, he led Sirius' fingers around his dick, then started guiding his hand.

Quietly humming, Sirius buried his face in Remus' neck. Remus' back straightened and for a second he considered doing something, but then he felt Sirius' lips brush against his veins and all thoughts packed for a very long holiday.

"Yours felt better", Sirius murmured against his skin. Still not thinking clearly, Remus turned his head toward him.

The first time their lips touched it wasn't more than a light brush. The second time it was a crash. Two mouths wanting for more, two bodies aching to be closer.

Completely lost in the moment he pulled his friend into his lap, never breaking the rhythm of his hand. Sirius groaned and gasped against his lips, still moving his hips slightly.

Remus could feel himself harden with every single one of Sirius' motions.

It didn't take the other one long to realise it. Carefully he let his hand slide into Remus' pyjama bottoms, pulling his dick out. Remus moaned lightly into the kiss, biting down on his lip.

"Stop?", Sirius asked, pausing for a moment, but Remus quickly shook his head. "No. Don't. Keep going", he answered quietly, building a bit more of a tempo with his hand as Sirius started moving his. Sirius' fingers were impossibly soft and most important - they were Sirius'.

"Fuck, Moony! Feels- feels- so good." Remus hummed in agreement. "I think you're about to come", he whispered, voice rougher than usual. "It's supposed to fe- feel good. Very... Intense. " 

Remus groaned as Sirius' hips started stuttering irregularly and his moans grew louder. "You're gonna make a mess for me. You gonna come all over me." 

Obviously, Sirius didn't last very long. It had already been more than Remus would have guessed. The first times he himself had done it, it only took him a few embarrassing seconds to finish into his pants.

Now he didn't take much longer than that. Between Sirius' perfect hands and his moans, he was completely helpless.

Breathing heavily, Sirius rested his forehead against Remus', who didn't dare to speak as the reality of what they had just done slowly sank in.

"Is it always this intense?", Sirius asked after a few minutes. "Not exactly."

[accioaparecium]

Intertwining Souls

Poly!WolfStar x Reader ☾ 2k

SUMMARY ☾ You’re running on empty, so when Sirius comes home with pesky little friends, Remus has to care for you both.

WARNINGS ☾ Casual dom/sub dynamics (non-sexual). Reader’s description is usual, but she/her pronouns and endearments such as “sweet girl, princess, pretty girl” are used.

NOTES ☾ This is an edited and revised version of an upload from a former blog. If it seems familiar, then you probably came across it when it was first uploaded.

You’re ready to fall asleep right where you are, lulled into tranquility by your environment—the crackling fireplace a few feet away, the scent of cinnamon and sandalwood, the gentle brush of his fingers against your temple, and the soothing cadence of his voice reading aloud to you from his current novel. Your eyes drift closed as you allow yourself to be blanketed in the warmth.

The last week has been particularly draining for you. Between your duties with work and the Order, on top of caring for Remus through the lunar cycle, you’re running on fumes. Your boyfriends are positively lovely when it comes to helping you navigate the stress and exhaustion, but it’s not the type that you can just sleep off and awaken rejuvenated. It’s that fatigue that can only be nurtured away with time and patience.

Remus pauses when your breathing evens out. He smiles softly and traces the curve of your face with a feather-light touch. The worry lines have smoothed over, your lashes delicately brushing your cheekbones, muted breaths pushing past your parted lips as you sink deeper into well-needed sleep.

He debates on whether to let you rest a bit longer in his lap or risk rousing you by carrying you to bed. Just when he’s putting his book down, the front door is prodded open, a black snout nosing a path for the large dog to come indoors. The animal nudges the door shut before shaking the light downpour from his fur.

Remus sighs quietly. “Must you always do that, Pads?” he complains, though not without a note of fondness softening his cross tone. “We’ve talked about this.”

Shifting back into his human form, the Animagus merely grins at his boyfriend’s annoyance. “Y’know I can’t help myself, Moons. ‘S in my nature.”

The other man rolls his eyes but lets it go. He knows well enough that it’s wise to pick his battles with Sirius—and this isn’t one he wishes to rehash with you trying to catch up on some well-earned rest.

“Nice run?” he asks instead, moving his hand to stroke his fingers along your arm.

“Definitely.” Sirius absently scratches his head and makes his way to the overstuffed sofa. His eyes drift to you, jovial expression softening in adoration. “Aww, look at her. Ain’t she just adorable, Moony?” he coos.

“She is,” Remus agrees, watching as you sigh softly and shift on his lap. “Careful—don’t wake her,” he warns sternly when Sirius reaches for you. “She just fell asleep.”

“I’m not gonna wake her.” Sirius grazes his knuckles down the contour of your cheek. Despite his words, your lashes flutter at his touch.

You nuzzle against Remus’s legs before peeling your eyes open, blinking through the fuzzy haze to focus on your boyfriend. A sleepy smile notches on your face. “G’morning, Siri,” you mumble.

Sirius chuckles and bends down to kiss your forehead. “It’s late, bunny,” he says. “We should get you to bed.”

“No, no. ‘M awake.” Still blinking the sleep from your eyes, you slowly push yourself up. The boys chuckle affectionately at your tired state.

“Dove,” Remus coos, using an arm to bring you into his side, smiling when you melt into him. “You’re exhausted. Let’s get you in bed, yeah?”

You shake your head even as you drop it to rest on his shoulder. “Wanna stay with you,” you protest through a yawn. “‘M not sleepy anymore.”

“Liar,” Sirius croons. He scratches at his head a bit more intensely, unaware of the action even as it catches the attention of his partners.

Remus lifts a brow. “You okay, love?”

“Hmm?” Sirius snaps his gaze to him, pausing before lowering his hand like he’s suddenly realized. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good, mate.”

You frown, your vision clearing gradually as you eye your boyfriend. His fingers twitch across his thigh like he’s fighting the urge to scratch, curling and unfurling in tense increments.

You lift your head from your other boyfriend’s shoulder. “Siri?”

“What’s wrong, sweet girl?”

Your attention is stolen from his cautious expression by a small dark speck that abruptly manifests on the sofa. All lingering traces of sleepiness beheld from your system when that little fleck jumps away. Irritation swoops into its place, the twinge breathing acuity into your foggy mind.

Remus’s forehead creases as he clocks the movement. He snaps his focus back to Sirius, studying how he shifts in the sofa, nails digging into his trousers as he resumes scratching at himself. Another tiny dot crawls along the sleeve of his jumper.

You pinch your lips together. “You have fleas. Again.”

Sirius’s eyes round, his gaze darting away from you warily. “Don’t be silly, baby. What makes you say that?”

“Well, if that wasn’t enough,” Remus says, gesturing towards where he’s scratching at his leg with wild abandon, “this,” he continues, reaching out to pluck the pest with the tips of his fingers, “is enough proof, if you ask me.”

The flea wiggles in the clutches of his fingers before Remus deftly rolls it beneath his nails, popping the exoskeleton with expert precision. He raises his brows at his boyfriend expectantly.

Sirius splutters for a moment, heat flaring up in his cheeks. “Well—that’s—how do you know it’s from me?” he argues. “The full moon was two nights ago—it could’ve come from you, y’know! Or—or maybe…”

He trails off as he notes the pointed looks from both of his partners. Neither you nor Remus are particularly thrilled with this development.

“Okay, fine!” He throws his hands up in the air before scratching at his neck. “I have fleas! It’s to be expected from time to time!”

Remus sighs and stands from the sofa, grabbing the other man’s arm. “C’mon, love. We’re taking care of it before it gets worse.”

He hauls Sirius up and starts dragging him towards the bathroom. You watch with mild amusement as Sirius blanches. His fingers grapple at the wall, finding purchase near the doorframe. So dramatic. You roll your eyes at his theatrics.

“We? No, thank you.” Sirius jerks back, halting Remus’s purposeful stride. “I can bathe myself, thank you very much.”

Shaking your head, you rise from the sofa. “Not in your Animagus form, you can’t,” you remind him.

“Well, I won’t bathe in my Animagus form then, will I?”

“Padfoot,” Remus interjects sternly. “You know the flea shampoo won’t work otherwise.”

Sirius looks back at you as you sidle up to their statement, his eyes wide and imploring. “Sweetheart, please, I’m begging you—don’t let him do this to me.”

You level him with a dour look. “I’m already gonna have to treat the flat and Remmy again in the morning,” you tell him. “Get in the bath, or you can sleep in the garden tonight—and we’ll still bathe you in the morning regardless.”

Betrayal flashes darkly in his eyes. “I can’t believe this,” he pouts. “You two are being unfair.”

Remus rolls his eyes. “C’mon, Pads. Let’s get it over with,” he encourages, tugging Sirius away from the doorframe. “Dovey, why don’t you head up to bed? We’ll be in as soon as this one's defleaed.”

Normally you might insist on helping wrangle the uncooperative Animagus into the tub, but now that you’ll have to wake up earlier to get the flat in order, you know it’s probably best that you call it a night. So you nod your head, covering your mouth just as another yawn breaks through, like your body senses that Remus has declared your bedtime.

“Sure, yeah, go right on to bed,” Sirius grumbles. “Pay no mind to my suffering.”

You smile tiredly. “Your suffering will end once you’re not being eaten alive,” you counter, knowing he always feels better after a flea bath—you don’t know why it’s always so difficult to wrestle him into one. “G’night, Siri. Love you.”

“Yeah, yeah. Love you too, bunny.” He continues to moan but can’t ignore the wave of affection that washes over him when you press your lips to his in a sweet kiss.

“Sweet dreams, princess.” Remus, maintaining a firm grip on your disgruntled boyfriend, swoops in to kiss you goodnight. “And don’t wait up for us. You need to get some rest,” he adds a bit more austerely, patting your bottom solicitously to send you on your way.

You shuffle to your shared bedroom, looking forward to snuggling beneath the duvet and letting the plush mattress lull you back into dreamland. But as you settle into the empty bed, you know you won’t be able to actually kip down without your boyfriends. So you just close your eyes and listen to their scuffling while you wait.

“This is a cruel and unusual punishment. You’re a bloody sadist.”

“Oh, stop being so dramatic. It’ll be quick.”

“Why don’t you ever have to take flea baths?”

“Because they don’t make baths big enough for werewolves, Pads. Go on then.” A soft laugh interrupts the bickering. “No, kissing me won’t change my mind. Get in.”

“I’ll never forgive you for this.”

“You’ll live, I’m afraid.” A few seconds tick by, followed by a teasing, “That’s a good boy.”

An indignant, grumbling bark is the response.

You smile fondly and roll over onto your side. Your eyelids are heavy against your sockets, like you won’t be able to reopen them, but sleep evades you just as you’ve predicted. It’s quite pathetic really—you’ve become so accustomed to having at least one of your boys with you as you slept that it’s now nearly impossible for you to do so without their warmth curled around you.

It’s one of the many little side effects of loving so deeply your souls intertwine. A love so deep that it completes you, spilling into the pits denying your heart and filling them to brim and then some. You honestly didn’t know you could love another person quite so much until the boys graciously showed you.

You lose track of time as you lie there mulling over the ridiculous way you continue to fawn over your partners like a schoolgirl with a crush. You’re snapped back to reality by low murmurs and footsteps entering the bedroom.

“You think she’s asleep?” Sirius whispers.

“Hopefully,” Remus replies quietly. “She’s been exhausted.”

“Sweet girl’s running herself ragged.”

Muted shuffling around the space tells you they’re dressing down for the night. Then, slowly, the bed dips on either side of you as they finally join you. Remus settles at your back, draping a gentle arm around your torso and pulling you into his chest, while Sirius crawls to lie facing you, slender fingers rubbing tender circles along the nape of your neck.

You sigh contentedly and allow a small smile to give yourself away.

Remus clicks his tongue when you shift back against him. “You’re supposed to be asleep, dovey,” he whispers, planting a few soft kisses to the slope of your neck.

“‘M supposed to be a lot of things,” you murmur, tilting your head up when you feel Sirius’s touch glide down your jaw, “but I live to disappoint.”

The boys seek to love in sync, free hands drifting down to pinch your hip and thigh affectionately. “Oi,” Sirius chuckles quietly, “that’s my job, princess.”

You hum and crack your eyes open, peering at him through your lashes. “Feel better, Siri?”

“I will when you get some sleep.” He shuffles closer and kisses you sweetly, starting with a few on the lips then traveling to the tip of your nose and finally your forehead. His hand squeezes your hip, thumb tracing idle circles against the curve.

Remus’s lips touch the back of your head. “We all will,” he mumbles, tightening his hold on you until you’re trapped between your boys—not like you ever want to be anywhere else.

You smile again, sleepily letting your eyes flutter closed once more. “I love you.”

Sirius sighs softly, minty breath ghosting across your face. “We love you too. G’night, pretty girl. G’night, Moons,” he says, stretching over you briefly to kiss the werewolf before settling back again.

“Pains in the arse, both of you,” Remus chides fondly, voice low with a sleepiness that lulls you back into that serene state of tranquility. “Now shut up and go to sleep.”

[moonstruckme]

omg as a diabetic i've not really seen many fics about this but your fic was lovely!!! what about a diabetic read with the marauders )any ship or person) where they had a slightly nasty argument and she's not feeling well (sugar levels or whatever u decide) and she doesn't tell them because of the fight and comfort with sprinkles of angst ensue? it was just a thought, if you're up for it! <3

Thank you lovely <3

cw: reader has diabetes, dizziness/lightheadedness, brief mention of blood, for anyone unfamiliar with diabetes the “meter” here refers to a blood glucose meter which reports blood sugar levels

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 1.7k words

You seem to have inadvertently laid claim to the sitting room. Sirius stalked off into the kitchen and hasn’t come back, and Remus is down the hall avoiding the pair of you, as he’s taken to doing whenever you and Sirius argue. He might come talk sense into you if it were really serious, but Remus has had his own share of domestic squabbles with both of you; he leaves you to sort this one out by yourselves. 

A few minutes ago, through the smog of your anger, you recognized a feeling of wrongness. The timing is uncanny. Sirius had only just gone into the kitchen when you realized you needed to be there yourself. Now, even if you could brave the iciness of your boyfriend’s rancor, you don’t think you could stand to get what you need in front of him. 

The second you reach for one of your glucose-boosting shakes, Sirius will know your blood sugar is low, and then you’ll be a victim to him. 

Or not a victim, necessarily, but someone in need of care. Someone he has to look after, and who he can’t be angry at, and that’s not fair to him. It’s not fair to you. Even if you do want to stop fighting, you don’t want to win that way. 

But a few more minutes of doing nothing and you aren’t sure you’ll be able to stand properly from this couch. 

Remus peeks into the living room. Finding only you, he comes over.

“Okay?” he asks quietly, sitting beside you. He means your argument; Remus is perceptive, but he’s not that good. 

“Yeah.” You loose a breath. “He’s so stubborn.” 

“So are you,” he says, not without fondness. 

“But I’m right.” 

Remus hums and kisses the side of your head. You try not to melt too obviously; your head is starting to ache from the drop in blood sugar, and you really are beginning to feel somewhat pitiful. “If I tell you something,” he murmurs, “you have to keep it a secret.” 

You look at him, intrigued. “What?” 

Remus’ lips give a slight tug. “I agree with you.” 

You grin, smug and extremely vindicated. Remus holds up a hand. 

“But,” he goes on, “I think you should apologize to him.” 

Just like that, your smile dissipates. Your headache feels like it’s getting worse. “Why?” 

The look Remus gives you is kind, but tinged with bemusement. “You were harsh with him, sweetheart. I understand being upset, but you didn’t need to lay into him the way you did. It was only a small thing.” He lowers his voice. “I think he might not have dug his heels in quite so much if you’d only asked him nicely.” 

You frown, guilt and irritation warring within you. “He’s always stubborn. It doesn’t matter what I say.” 

“It matters,” says Remus. “Listen, I can’t know for sure, but I think if you apologized to him, he’d apologize back. And maybe then you could find an agreement about the whole thing.” 

You sigh, letting your weight sag into Remus’ side. Your hands are starting to tremble in your lap. “I’d rather just tell him you think I’m right,” you say. 

You hear the smile in Remus’ voice as he kisses your head again. “I know.” 

You manage to stand without teetering. Remus waits in the sitting room while you go to the kitchen, where you find your boyfriend eating frosting broodily out of a tin. He spares you hardly a glance as you come in, sucking his spoon clean. 

“I didn’t mean to be harsh,” you say softly. 

Sirius scoffs. “Didn’t stop you.” 

“I didn’t realize I was being so harsh,” you amend. Even as you do, it’s hard to keep the bite from your tone. You know that you’re particularly irritable when your blood sugar is low; however, knowing that doesn’t actually make you feel any less irritated. “I’m sorry.” 

Sirius shakes his head. He’s still looking at the cabinets rather than at you. “Just because I don’t do things the way you want me to doesn’t make me completely incompetent.”

This apology might take longer than you bargained for. You set a hand on the counter as a wave of dizziness passes over you. Maybe you can drink your shake while apologizing? But Sirius is standing between you and the fridge. 

“I wasn’t trying to call you incompetent,” you say through the fog that’s descending over your consciousness. 

“That’s sure what it sounded like,” Sirius bites out. 

“Well, I don’t think you are. I just…I think I’m in a mood, and I’m saying things I don’t mean. I’m sorry.” 

It’s a rare enough admittance from you that Sirius looks over. One of his dark brows is half quirked, intrigue palpable. 

“Really?” he asks. 

“Really.” It feels like a weight off your shoulders; you think you physically slump. “I still think I’m right, but I shouldn’t have been so mean. Not,” you add, unable to help yourself, “that you were very nice to me either. But I started it.” 

A corner of Sirius’ mouth kicks up. “You did start it,” he agrees, softening. “I’m sorry, too. For not being very nice.” 

“It’s okay.” You try to smile back at him, eyeing the fridge. “Um, could I…I need the fridge.” 

He laughs, stepping aside. “Awe, that’s my darling girl. She’s feigned an apology because she’s hungry for lunch.” 

“Ha ha,” you reply drolly. 

As you step around him, Sirius palms the back of your neck, pulling you in for a brief kiss. You wish you could appreciate it better. You’re starting to feel rather unsteady, your lips tingling without the warmth. 

“Hey,” he says. 

You open the fridge, pushing condiments aside and reaching towards the back. Sirius sets a hand to your lower back. 

“Baby. You’re sweating.” 

“I’m okay,” you tell him, closing the fridge. You see him register the bottle in your hand, and you try to affect an expression of insouciance as you screw off the cap. “Just a little low.” 

“You’re low? For how long?” Sirius is gripping you with both hands now, one on your waist and the other at your elbow. He seems afraid you’ll keel over; you wish it were a less founded fear. “What’s your blood sugar at?” 

“Not sure,” you admit quietly. Your meter is in here, too, just behind where Sirius is standing. You sip your shake, nearly draining the small bottle. “It doesn’t matter, I’ll be good soon.” 

“Sweetheart.” Sirius’ brows bend, worry and bafflement warring in his expression. “Why didn’t you say?” 

“Because it’s fine.” You shrug, avoiding his eyes. “I didn’t want us to stop fighting just because of that. You were angry with me for valid reasons.” 

“I’m still angry with you,” he says, making you look at him in surprise, “but now for completely different reasons. What were you thinking?”

His raised voice attracts Remus, come now to keep the peace. 

“It wasn’t a big problem,” you try to reassure Sirius. “I had it handled.” 

“Staying away from what you need just because I’m upset is not handling it, baby.” 

“What’s going on?” Remus asks, looking between the two of you bemusedly. It’s not like Sirius to use sweet names when he’s angry, or like you to be so defensive after you’ve agreed to patch things up. “Have you managed to start another row already?” 

“Her blood sugar is low, and she wasn’t going to do anything about it because she thought I was angry with her,” Sirius tells him.

“You were angry with me,” you say. 

Remus looks at you, his eyes skimming you over quickly. “How low?” he asks. 

Sirius crosses his arms. “She doesn’t know.” 

You let out a breath, starting to feel teary. Another argument, on top of your headache and dizziness and the general weariness of your physical form at the moment, is too much. 

“It doesn’t matter,” you say. “I knew I was low, I was already handling it.” 

“Of course it matters, lovely,” Remus replies, disappointment permeating the usual kindness in his tone. 

He finds your meter behind Sirius, opening your small kit and putting in a new test strip before taking out the lancet. You let him prick your finger, throwing your empty shake bottle in the trash. Your meter beeps when it gets the reading. 

“Oh,” Remus sighs. “Alright. That’ll come up now you’ve had your drink.” 

“I know it will,” you mutter. 

“Hey.” Sirius all but traps you in a hug, his arms pushing underneath yours and squeezing you harshly. “Don’t do that. Okay? Please.” 

You feel yourself soften. One of your hands comes up to stroke the ends of his hair where it falls between his shoulder blades. “You don’t need to worry,” you say. 

“Oh, piss off. Try and stop me.” 

“I saw you shaking,” Remus admits, his voice soft. You look at him, surprised, but he meets your guilty expression with a half smile. “I only thought it was because you were upset. It’s an odd thing to keep secret from us, isn’t it?” 

“I wasn’t keeping it a secret.” You tuck your chin into Sirius’ shoulder. He gives your back a couple of firm rubs before pulling away. “I just didn’t want you to feel like…like you needed to look after me.” 

“Too bad,” Sirius says, stubbornly. “We’re going to look after you anyways. Shocked you wouldn’t know that already.” 

Remus smiles. He sets a hand to your back, soothing it back and forth between your shoulder blades. “He’s right,” he says. “No matter who’s upset, please don’t hide these things from us. It’s important that we know.” 

“Okay,” you mumble, chastised. “Sorry.” 

Sirius raises his eyebrows. “Two apologies in one afternoon. Christ, you really must be feeling poorly.” 

Remus chuckles. “Should we sit for a while? Give you time to come up.” 

“Sure.” That sounds amazing, actually. Even with the glucose working its way into your system, you’re still finding it difficult to stay on your feet. You start back towards the sitting room. “Thanks.” 

“Oh, my poor baby.” Sirius wraps his arms around you from behind, forcing you to take small steps to accommodate him. “You’re still shaking, sweet girl.” 

“This,” you say, “is exactly what I didn’t want.” 

Sirius laughs. He lets you go so you can sit before flopping down beside you, planting a kiss on your cheek. “Maybe next time,” he suggests, “you can be honest with us from the beginning, and I’ll let you be a bit choosier about what reaction you get.”