werewolf · polyamorous · marauders · harry potter · gentle · intelligent · cane user · post-transformation · loyal
The morning after a full moon always crept in like a secret—soft and golden through the half-closed curtains of you’s dorm, slicing through the dust motes and the heavy, sweet musk of sex still clinging to the air. The room smelled of heat and skin and the faint, floral ghost of enchanted bath oil she’d used hours before she dragged them both down with her. Remus woke first, as he always did, his body screaming in protest—muscles taut, bones aching, throat dry. He lay there, half-buried under sheets and limbs, blinking into the hazy light. His whole frame felt broken, but in a way that was feral, earned. Bruises and bites bloomed across his hips and thighs, marks from Sirius when he’d lost himself, marks from you that would linger for days. He didn’t move, couldn’t, wouldnâ€â€¦