#cowboy marauders

[evyltalks]

the cowboy series continues, this time I present you james & regulus

[sweethingslast]

PROLOGUE OF A GOOD OL' WILD WEST TALE !

cowgirl reader x marauders. set in the wild west (wizarding west lol)

tw: blood and cursing

prologue chapter one chapter two chapter three

you sat absentmindedly on your porch with your sweet golden, the stray who had slowly become less of a stray and more of your partner in crime.

the two of you watched the wind dance with the trees, the leaves shivering and twisting in the soft evening breeze. these were the moments you appreciated the most, the quiet peace before the storm of trouble that always seemed to find you.

you’d spent the entire day around town, handling the usual mix of chaos and everyday life.

the resident drunk had gotten rowdy, as they do, trying to stir up a fight at the saloon. it wasn’t anything you hadn’t dealt with before, but you’d put him in his place with the same quiet force you always did. no need to draw attention. just a firm hand, a few pointed words, and he had shuffled off to sleep it off in the back of the bar.

then there was the older couple, struggling to wrangle their cattle who had gotten too rambunctious after a day of heat, but you knew just how to guide them back into place, coaxing the stubborn animals back to the barn without a second thought.

another day of ensuring things stayed in balance, keeping the peace as you always did.

the folks in town had come to depend on you, perhaps more than they even realized. you weren’t no sheriff, never held that kind of title, but you were the one they turned to when problems arose.

somehow, in the midst of all that solitude, the people of the town always seemed to find their way to you when things went wrong. that’s how you liked it, and you were never the type to ask for a thanks. claiming it wasn't your way. you didn’t mind, not really. you’d been their protector, their go-to for as long as you could remember.

as the sun dipped lower, you leaned back, letting the soft, golden light stretch across the horizon. life was simple here. not easy, but simple. and that was enough.

the evening air was thick with the quiet hum of a setting sun, when you saw it. just barely at first, a disturbance in the dust on the outskirts of town.

you stood from your rocking chair. you squinted toward the horizon, where the ground seemed to ripple, the dust gathering into a swirling mass. the type that happened when someone was riding in. except the winds wild swirls moved in ways you were unfamiliar with. and then there was lightning. this makeshift dust storm sent a string of curses from your lips.

with the way it moved it could only mean one thing too.

whatever it was, it was coming in fast, very fast.

a sharp tsk fell from your lips. mind spring into possibilities. death rattlers? merlin knew you hated those misfits with every fiber in your being.

the death rattlers were no strangers around these parts. a gang of misfits and mercenaries, they made their living off illegal dealings, kidnapping magical beasts, and all manner of dark business. they had a reputation for being ruthless, willing to steal, kill, and betray for the right price. you’d crossed paths with them more than once, and every time, it left a bitter taste in your mouth. there wasn’t a soul in this town who didn’t know to steer clear of them.

whoever was coming, death rattler or not. you didn’t need to ask questions; you just knew you had to get moving.

you clicked your tongue, instinctively grabbing your hat and kicking up the hem of your coat as you hurried to your horse. the creature whinnied impatiently as you mounted, your legs shifting in the saddle as you urged it forward.

you had no idea what was coming your way, but you had a feeling you were about to find out real quick.

“easy girl,” you muttered, the wind catching your hair as you spurred the horse faster. “lets see what troubles heading our way.”

you urged your horse faster, the town falling behind you as the dust cloud grew thicker as you rode closer, a roiling storm of chaos that blurred the horizon. and in the center of it, riders began to emerge. you counted two—no, three—silhouettes cutting through the haze.

but as you closed the distance, you got a better look at the riders, disheveled, worn, and clearly in no shape to pick a fight. they wore bandanas, possibly to help with all that dust they were piling up, or to hide their faces. your gaze narrowed on, who you assumed was the lead figure, with wild, unruly hair and glasses that reflected the evening light. your eyes flickered briefly to the two figures next to him. looking both equally as exhausted.

your eyes once again landed on glasses. his coat that was flaring in the wind was settling down, the slumped against his shoulder that caught your eye.

a creature clung to him. a bird, no,, a baby thunderbird. its claws dug into the fabric of his coat as its wings drooped weakly at its sides.

the storm wasn’t just any storm. it was this. the creature’s distress, its crackling energy, was whipping the dust into a frenzy and charging the air with lightning.

you pulled your horse to a stop just as the rider barreled into earshot. your horse lets out a loud neigh.

“you lost?” you called, trying to keep your voice even, casual.

glasses snorted, his expression shifting into something between a smirk and a grimace. “not a chance.”

his voice was scratchy, likely from shouting over the storm, but the defiance in his tone was unmistakable. he wasn’t here to ask for help—hell, he probably didn’t even think he needed it.

your gaze flicked to the thunderbird again. poor thing was terrified by the looks of it. you couldn't tell who you felt more bad for, the unknown man or the tiny bird clutching at him with its talons.

“you’re bleeding,” you pointed out flatly.

he shrugged, shifting the bird slightly as if the movement alone could dismiss your observation. “not the first time.”

“you plannin' to just sit here and let that thing tear you to shreds, or are ya going to tell me what’s goin' on?” you push, acutely aware of not only the birds state, but the mans and his silent friends, and you certainly weren't one to leave strangers bleeding and disheveled.

you'd rather it be you to deal with it than for them to come into contact with other townsfolk.

the boy paused, finally pulling his horse to a full stop. his jaw tightened, but there was a flicker of hesitation in his eyes. just a flicker.

"it’s fine,” he said gruffly, adjusting the thunderbird as it sparked against him again. “we’ve got it handled darlin'."

you raised a brow, leaning forward slightly in your saddle. “sure looks like it.”

for a moment, neither of you spoke. the storm whirled around you, the air crackling with tension. then the thunderbird let out another sharp cry, a small belt of lightning leaving its fierce beak. the boy flinched.

not in fear, but in frustration.

“fine,” he muttered under his breath, clearly speaking more to himself than to you. “just need somewhere to set it down for a minute.”

it wasn’t an admission of defeat, not really. just the bare minimum acknowledgment that maybe, maybe, he couldn’t fix this all on his own.

you start turning your horse around, signaling for them to follow. as you did, you heard the sound of a dry tch. glancing over, you saw one of the riders,s

dark-haired, worn, shoot a sideways glance at his partner.

"here we are in the middle of nowhere, trusting the first stranger we see” he muttered. his voice thick with suspicion “fantastic strategy. really inspired, prongs.”

the lead rider—prongs, apparently, shot a glare over his shoulder. “got a better plan?” his voice is low and tired, he's clearly agitated.

padfoot held his tongue, unable to bite back he merely wiped sweat from his brow, his tone is sharp with frustration. " look, i know you're a sucker for pretty ladies, but for the love of merlin. use your brain, partner. "

you raised an eyebrow, keeping your tone neutral. “you always this charming, or is it just the heat talking?”

padfoot huffed, clearly unimpressed. “listen, all im saying is we ought to discuss it more before blindly following her!”

you glanced over your shoulder " you’re free to stay behind,” you said, voice even. you waved a hand toward the thunderbird still sparking on the lead rider’s shoulder. “ maybe try reasoning with a thunderbird while it’s half-dead and sparking lightning. should go great.”

padfoot snorted, shooting a look at the lead rider. “see that, prongs? she’s got your knack for brilliant plans. reckon you’ve met your match.”

"you’re really wearing my hat, partner,” prongs drawled, glancing over his shoulder, but his tone wasn’t sharp, just bone tired “look, i get it. this whole things gone sideways, but we’re not exactly swimming in options.”

padfoot lowered his eyes, lips pressing together as he nodded.

the quieter rider moved closer “lead the way, doll.” his voice was steady, though clearly exhausted.

you nodded, urging your horse forward, not bothering to wait for them to fall in line. you couldn’t help but feel a momentary flicker of doubt. you weren’t sure who these men were, or why they were here with the bird, but something in you told you they were more than just a couple of travelers.

the whispers in your mind, always present, hummed louder now.

but for all the things you didn’t know, one thing was clear: you’d made your choice. and you weren't going to look back on it.

as the wind swept through your hair and the dust kicked up again, you felt the familiar weight of your decisions settle around you.

whether or not they were trustworthy whether or not they’d end up being trouble you’d deal with it as it came. it wasn’t like you hadn’t faced worse.

you took another breath, steadying your nerves. as the bickering of the riders faded into the background. you rode knowing that whatever came next was a ride you’d already started.

[buckskittle]

“Cowboy James!”

“cowboy Remus!”

“Cowgirl Lily!”

WHY THE FUCK DO I NEVER SEE ANY COWBOY/PERSON ALICE??? HUH??? I WANT MY MASC LESBIAN ALICE. WHERE ARE THEY HUH??

[cluelessredhead11]

Does anyone want to proof read the first chapter of this fic I started it like a western band au

These are the ships so dm me if you want to

[ll33c0ji1]

I come bearing WIPS 🤕

Cowboy AU I was cooking up a while back but life has been busy and I was really struggling with getting them to a point I was satisfied with (overworked Remus and reg)

Remus has silly little cowboy badges that he thinks are funny (they are cringe).

[z0mbieb0ybyersblog]

Wild Hearts - chapter one

(WH master list)

pairing: Wolfstar, + side ships that will be added later

warning: mature, strong language, maybe some suggestive things 👀, angst, fluff

word count: 1.1k

ao3 tags: Cowboy Remus Lupin, Cowboy AU, cowboy like me on full volume, I love cowboys, save a horse ride a cowboy type of shit, Disabled Remus Lupin, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, inappropriate use of lassos, Wrote This While Listening to Taylor Swift's Music

notes:

I made a playlist for the fic if you guys wanna check it out!

summary:

Sirius Black is a runaway, burdened by a troubled past, who escapes the confines of his old life and seeks refuge, looking for work on a remote ranch.

The ranch is owned by Remus Lupin, a rugged cowboy who keeps to himself, haunted by his own secrets. Who is looking to hire someone to work on the farm with him because Remus is unable to do the work alone after a farm accident that left one of his legs permanently disabled. Remus had other farmhands but needed someone to live on the ranch with him and take care of the rest of the work.

(originally published on ao3)

The Homestead

The scorching sun beat down on the vast landscape, casting its golden glow over the Silver Crest ranch that stood as a sanctuary amidst the rugged wilderness. Sirius' heart pounded with anticipation as the cab pulled up the property's driveway; it was nothing like where he grew up.

"You sure this is the right place?" The cab driver said as the car came to a stop. Sirius slung his only bag over his shoulder. "Yup." He said, getting out of the cab. He had paid the driver beforehand, so the cab drove off, leaving Sirius to admire where he would work and live for a while.

As Sirius ventured into the ranch, he couldn't help but take in the breathtaking beauty surrounding him. The sprawling fields, dotted with grazing cattle and sheep, hinted at a simpler existence, far removed from the complexities he had left behind.

Sirius approached the opening of the barn. It wasn't that big, but it was a decent size, and its paint was old and chipping away. There was a tan man inside the barn. He wore a dirty white tank top and circle glasses, and his hair was a mess and slick with sweat.

"Hello?" Sirius said to capture the man's attention. The man turned around, confused, but his confusion was quickly replaced with a bright grin. "Hey! What can I do for you?" He asked, walking over to Sirius, "Oh, uh, I'm supposed to start work here today." Sirius stated, and the man took a second before finally realizing, "Oh! You must be Sirius; I'm James. We spoke on the phone." James said, sticking his hand out, "It's nice to meet you in person, James." Sirius said, shaking his hand.

"Well, anyway, about the job, you don't start today; today's mostly getting you situated and showing you around," James explained, and Sirius nodded his head to say he understood. "If you follow me, I can give you a quick tour and show you where you will stay while you are here," James said as he exited the barn, and Sirius trailed after.

James showed Sirius around the property, and they stopped outside an old cabin house. "Here is the bunkhouse; this is where me and some other ranch hands stay," James explained as Sirius examined the building, "Though you won't be staying here." "Why not?" Sirius asked, a bit confused. "Well, your job has more domestic work, so you'll stay in the main house," James said. "The main house?" Sirius asked, and James pointed up the hill to an off-white two-story farmhouse with a metal roof and a porch wrapping around it.

"Who else stays in the main house?" Sirius asked, examining the house from the bottom of the hill. "None of us ranch hands stay up there; it's only Remus up there. I and Peter go up there for a bit, but we don't necessarily stay long." James explained, mentioning someone named Peter, and Sirius assumed it was another ranch hand.

James started going up the hill to the house, and Sirius trailed behind, "Remus said you'll be staying in the extra room. It's kinda small, but it's liveable." James said as they walked up the porch stairs. Sirius didn't care if the room was tiny as long as he had a place to stay.

James opened the screen door and knocked loudly on the entry door; it took a second before Sirius heard loud thudding noises from inside the house approaching the door. When the door swung open, Siriuis was surprised at the sight of the man before him. He expected an older gentleman, but instead, he was met with a young man, maybe around his age; he was taller than him and James. The man had stubble on his chin and scars trailing along his face. The man looked Sirius up and down, confused, before asking James, "Who is this?" "This is Sirius; he is the new farm hand who will be helping you around here," James explained as the man whom Sirius suspected was Remus went back inside the house James followed after, Sirius followed slowly as he went into the home. It was cozy; it looked well lived in; books lined the walls in the living room, many ashes lay in the brick fireplace, and framed pictures lined the mantel over the top.

The three reached a door that sat down the hall from the kitchen, "This is your room." Remus said, opening the door to reveal a small room that was now Sirius' living quarters. Remus walked away before Sirius or James could say anything. As Remus walked away from the pair, Sirius finally noticed that Remus walked with a small limp and was accompanied by a wooden cane.

"Sorry about him. He's not very keen on someone staying here to help him. The others and I had to try everything to convince him to have someone be up here." James sighed and chuckled. "So, what am I here to help him with?" Sirius asked, "Well, you will help him when he is down at the barn. He likes to push himself 'cause it is a lot of work for him and in general, so you'll help minimize that workload. You will also be doing normal stuff around here, like helping care for the animals, but that's mostly it unless Remus says otherwise." James explained. "Oh, one more thing: Remus is a little sour to people, especially newer people, but he means well, I promise," James said, and Sirius mentally noted everything James had told him.

"Alrighty, I'll be heading out back to the farm. You can get yourself situated in your room and prepare for tomorrow's work. Tomorrow, Marlene will help learn the ropes. She's another ranch hand. You'll like her. Anyway, see you around Sirius!" James said cheerfully as he left the farmhouse.

Sirius entered his room finally; it wasn't that bad. He would make do with it. As Sirius put away the clothes he had brought inside the old wooden bureau, he heard a voice behind him, "You don't snore, do you?" The voice said, and Sirius turned quickly to see it was Remus in the doorway. "Um, no?" Sirius replied, and Remus nodded. "Good, the walls are thin, and I don't want to hear it." And he walked off.

A little while later, Sirius shut the door to his room and sprawled out across his bed. Sirius had to get used to being here; it was such a change from his past home; well it wasn't ever home, not to him at least. But this, he hoped, would be his home, a place where he could be him without the constant ridicule of others. A place to be free.

[regulusdays]

wdym to write a fic i have to actually write it? like put words togerher? not just create playlists and random plot explanations on a doc? i have to write it write it??? who decided that??? it’s so unfair?!?!

[theprongspotter]

Alrighty guys I wanna write a cowboy marauders fic. Do I do like “oh cool they live in the country yeehaw cowboys!” or like “oh cool rival horse racers/showers” with like western and/or english riding??? Help

[ohyou-pretty-things]

artist : @star_ry_eyed

[moonandthestars003]

‘roses are fallin’, roses from fallin’ for you’

- roses are falling, orveille peck

[evyltalks]

Cowboy Remus pt. 2

(Being a cowboy suits him like a glove)

[sweethingslast]

PART ONE OF A GOOD OL' WILD WEST TALE !

cowgirl x marauders !!! wild west au (wizarding west!!!) unedited.

tw: blood, cursing, robbing,

prologue chapter one chapter two chapter three

the sound of crickets were starting to fill the cool air by the time you made it to your ranch. the faint smell of hay and wood smoked the air as you dismounted your horse

you rolled your shoulders to stretch out the stiffness of the ride.

you turned back to get a better look at the travelers. they followed your lead, slipping from their saddles with practiced ease. you peaked closer, curiosity tugging at the edges of your thoughts. even with the bandanas covering the lower half of their faces, there was no mistaking it—they were handsome. that kind of movie-handsome the town’s children always dragged you to see at the picture shows, whispering excitedly about daring outlaws and chivalrous cowboys.

their arms were muscular, tanned from the sun and streaked with dirt and veins that twisted like roots. their clothes were worn, dusty, and patched in places that spoke to a life on the road. yet somehow, despite the grime, they pulled off an effortless charm that felt both dangerous and magnetic.

you shook your head at the thought, dragging your attention back to the task at hand. the thunderbird was no longer clawing at glasses’ shoulder but rested limply in his arms, letting out faint, aching whines that tugged at your heart. its feathers sparked faintly, the energy dimming as exhaustion took hold.

your lips pressed into a thin line. poor thing. you made eye contact with prongs who seemed to share your sentiment. you moved your eyes away, ignoring the unwelcome warmth prickling your neck with the way his large hazel eyes bore into you

no time for distractions, especially not pretty ones. striding to the barn doors, you unlatched them and gestured inside. "i'll get y'all some fresh water, and you can rest while i patch this sweet thing up. so, stay put." you said, pointing to the barn doors. then, almost as an afterthought, you turned back to the group. “and keep those bandanas on while you’re here. don’t need to know your faces to help.”

there was a moment’s pause, the air hanging heavy between you. you noticed the tall, quiet one—moony, was it?—exchange a quick glance with prongs. his amber eyes flickered with something unreadable, but he gave a small nod of agreement, as if silently communicating, let it be. you caught padfoot’s brow arching above his dark eyes, and glasses shifting uneasily before giving a short nod.

“got it, cowgirl,” prongs said, his tone light but laced with something teasing—something you weren’t sure you wanted to name. his hazel eyes lingered on yours a beat longer than necessary, and warmth found its way to your cheeks.

satisfied, you gave a quick nod toward golden, who had wandered over and plopped down beside the group. her tongue lolled out in what looked like a lazy grin. “golden here will keep an eye on ya,” you added, patting her head for good measure as you turned to leave.

“yeah, looks like a real enforcer,” padfoot muttered, his words dripping with sarcasm as golden immediately flopped onto her back, offering her belly for rubs.

moony crouched beside golden, running a hand gently over her fur. “smart dog,” he murmured, his voice soft.

“hm?” you asked, turning slightly as you were about to make your way to get the supplies.

“yeah,” he continued, not looking up. “she’s got good instincts. knows who to trust.” he glanced up at you then, his expression calm but thoughtful, and you felt an odd tug at his words.

“or she just likes belly rubs,” padfoot quipped, smirking as he knelt to join in the petting session.

prongs shook his head, his hazel eyes catching yours again. “you’ve got yourself a traitor there,” he teased, gesturing toward golden, who had now fully clocked out of her guard duties in favor of these handsome strangers attention.

you snorted, shaking your head as you stepped away. “some guard dog,” you muttered under your breath. still, there was something reassuring about the way moony’s voice had settled the moment,

moony watched as you made your way to your small house. “smart dog,” he muttered. a beat passed before he grimaced and whispered to the others, “was that creepy? i feel like i just scared her off—going on about trusting dogs. she’s probably bolting for the hills right now.”

prongs didn’t bother holding back his laughter, clapping moony on the shoulder. “oh, our sweet moons.”

padfoot smirked, folding his arms with an exaggerated sigh. “yeah, don’t sweat it, moony. if you scared her off, it’s only because you’re talking like you’re auditioning for the role of mysterious stranger with a heart of gold.” he raised a brow, letting the sarcasm settle for effect.

moony groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “y’all are insufferable.”

prongs grinned, crossing his arms. “look at this guy with his big words. you’re one dust storm away from performing a soliloquy.”

moony shot him a glare. “oh, so ‘insufferable’ is a big word, but ‘soliloquy’ ain’t?”

padfoot snickered. “you aren’t the only one with the brains here.”

moony scowled, and padfoot added with a teasing grin, “keep it up with this broody charm and ‘the dog trusts me’ nonsense. really, she’s probably halfway to thinking you’re some wandering poet-cowboy by now.”

the words hung in the air, a momentary lull filling the barn. the sounds of teasing faded into a peaceful silence, broken only by the faint rustle of hay.

the soft chirp of the thunderbird echoed through the space. it was nestled in a makeshift nest prongs had crafted out of some old cloth hanging by the stall. the bird stirred weakly, its feathers sparking faintly like embers struggling against the wind.

prongs crouched beside the tiny creature, brushing a finger gently over its sparking feathers. “easy there, rusty,” he murmured softly, as if the bird might understand.

both padfoot and moony froze mid-conversation, their heads snapping toward him in unison.

“rusty?” padfoot repeated, incredulously.

james glanced over his shoulder, completely unfazed. “what?”

remus raised an eyebrow. “you named it?”

“yes, i named him. he’s been latched onto my shoulder all day—what did you expect?” james shot back, defensive but not without a grin. “we’re practically best pals at this point.”

he shrugged, reaching out to gently adjust the cloth nest. “rusty suits him. and he likes it. don’t ya, friend?”

padfoot leaned against a post, arms crossed as he watched his friend fuss over the tiny creature. “you’re such a bleeding heart, prongs. you know that, right?”

james shot him a look but didn’t respond, his attention fixed on making the thunderbird comfortable.

“bleeding everywhere else too,” moony muttered, pointing at the dark patch spreading across prongs’ sleeve.

“don’t start,” prongs sighed, his tone somewhere between exasperated and amused. “it’s not that bad.”

sirius raised a brow. “not bad? you’re dripping blood all over her barn.”

"he's right. you’ll need stitches, or that arm’s going to be useless.” moony added pointedly.

“i'’ll manage,” prongs replied with a grin, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “we've got bigger problems than a little cut.”

there was another moment of silence between them as if just remembering the whole reason they had found themselves in this situation. the mood shifting at the mention of the problems they were running away from.

everything about the heist had been prepared to the letter, as it always was. the marauders prided themselves on precision—skillful, purposeful, and thorough. every detail had been accounted for, every escape route mapped out, every contingency planned. it should have been simple.

but then prongs heard the chirp.

it was faint, almost lost amid the rustle of papers and the clink of valuables being stashed away. he turned his head sharply, scanning the dimly lit room until his eyes landed on a rusted cage in the corner. inside was a tiny, bedraggled bird with feathers that shimmered faintly, like a dying ember struggling for life. its weak cries tugged at something deep in his chest.

james hesitated for only a moment before crossing the room, leaving the documents and stolen money half-forgotten in his bag. he crouched in front of the cage, his jaw tightening as he took in the creature’s fragile state. it didn’t belong here—not in a place like this, not with people like this.

"prongs, what the hell are you doing?" padfoot hissed from the doorway, his dark eyes flicking between his friend and the door they’d just blown open. “we don’t have time for this!”

james ignored him, pulling the cage door open. the small bird didn’t move, too exhausted or too weak to resist as he gently scooped it into his hands. its feathers sparked faintly at his touch, sending a soft jolt up his arm.

moony appeared beside padfoot, his expression both curious and exasperated. "james…”

“i couldn’t leave it,” james said, his voice firm. “they’d sell it—or worse. look at it.” he cradled the bird carefully, as if afraid it might break in his hands.

padfoot threw his hands up in frustration. “we’re not running a bally wildlife rescue, prongs! this is supposed to be a clean job. get in, get out. no attachments, remember?”

but the decision had already been made. when they fled the death rattlers’ base minutes later, their bags stuffed with loot, james had the thunderbird tucked safely against his chest.

it wasn’t until they were well into their escape that the full weight of what he’d done began to sink in.

“this better be worth it james,” padfoot grumbled as they galloped through the wilderness, the sound of pursuit growing fainter behind them.

remus shot james a sharp look, his amber eyes gleaming in the moonlight. “do you have any idea how much trouble you’ve just invited into our lives?”

and truth be told the small bird did invite heaps of trouble., they’d underestimated the bird’s value—and the lengths the death rattlers would go to retrieve it. they hadn’t even made it a mile from the base before the gang’s reinforcements had begun to close in, forcing the marauders into a desperate chase through rough terrain.

by the time they stumbled upon the outskirts of your town, bruised, battered, and bleeding, the thunderbird was barely clinging to life after a day of riding nonstop. james’ arm was still dripping blood from a deep gash he’d taken during their escape, but he hardly seemed to notice, his focus entirely on the small creature in his care.

"reckon she has any idea who we are?" he muttered finally spoke, hands still gently brushing over the small creatures feathers.

"doubt it", padfoot answered shaking his head. "don't think she wants to know anything about us either way" he quipped, recalling the small quip she said about keeping the bandanas on.

"smart of her. wouldn't want to be involved with us either." moony said.

“we’ll do what we can to fix this,” prongs continued, his gaze drifting back to the thunderbird. “then we’re out of her hair. the death rattlers are sure to catch up with us soon, and I'd doubt shed be happy we dragged those bally devils to her town."

the barn door creaked open, and all four of them instinctively reached for their weapons.

“relax,” you said, stepping inside with a bucket of water balanced on your hip and a basket of supplies in your other hand. “ain’t nobody sneaking up on you. golden here might be useless, but i ain’t.”

padfoot smirked, lowering his hand. “you’re full of surprises, sweetheart.”

you shot him a look that could’ve cut through steel, and his smirk widened. you moved setting the bucket and cups down beside the group.

prongs gave padfoot a pointed look before turning his attention to you. “thank you,” he said, his voice soft but earnest.

you met his gaze briefly before looking away, busying yourself with unpacking the basket. “don’t thank me yet. you’re still bleeding all over my barn,” you muttered.

moony watched the exchange with a faint smile, his sharp eyes catching the way prongs’ shoulders seemed to relax whenever you spoke.

“here,” you said, pulling out a clean rag and tossing it to moony who was next to prongs. “keep pressure on that, and maybe i'll consider not kicking you out before sunrise.” you ordered.

padfoot let out a low whistle. "feisty and generous. what a combination doll."

you rolled your eyes, but the faintest hint of a smile tugged at your lips. you worked on the bird patching up its small cuts.

james watched as you gently inspected the thunderbird, your brow furrowed in concentration. rusty let out a faint, pained chirp, and you murmured something soft under your breath, your fingers steady and delicate.

padfoot elbowed him lightly. “quit starin’.”

“im not starin’,” james shot back, a little too quickly. but he was. he couldn’t quite help it. there was something about the way you carried yourself—calm, determined, like nothing rattled you—that made it hard to look away. not to mention you were the most beautiful lady he'd ever seen. not just pretty nor cute, you were beautiful if james ever knew the definition to it.

you finished cleaning up the bird, and startled james when you met his gaze. "come, trouble” you muttered, pulling out a roll of clean bandages and a small bottle of antiseptic from the basket. your gaze flickered to prongs’ arm, noting the way the blood had soaked through the cloth you had offered and dripped onto the floorboards. you frowned at the sight. “let me see it.”

james hesitated for a moment, his hazel eyes searching yours as if weighing whether he could trust you. finally, he rolled up his sleeve, revealing a jagged gash that ran along his bicep. the edges were red and angry, and the sight of it made you wince.

you wet a cloth in the bucket of water, "this looks awful prongs.”

“oh, come on. don't make me blush cowgirl,” he replied, his voice light but strained as you pressed the damp cloth against the wound. warmness creaking at his neck at the way his nickname fell of your lips. he hissed through his teeth but didn’t pull away.

"this might sting,” you warned, not sparing him any pity, grabbed the bottle.

“sting? i’m sure it’ll be—OW dammit, woman!” james winced as you poured the liquor over the wound.

moony smirked quietly to himself but said nothing, content to watch the show while absentmindedly petting golden, who was now sprawled across his lap, utterly betraying you.

you knelt in front of james, carefully pressing the cloth against the wound to stop the bleeding. up close, his hazel eyes softened with something unreadable.it made your stomach flip, though you didn’t let it show.

“hold still,” you muttered, grabbing a needle and thread from your basket. “you're lucky i know how to stitch. could’ve left you leaking all over the place.”

james chuckled under his breath, though it was tinged with exhaustion. “wouldn’t blame you if you did.”

you glanced up at him briefly, your brow furrowing. “and what’s that supposed to mean?”

Hh shrugged lightly. “we're trouble, sweetheart. you said it yourself—you don’t need to know who we are.”

“don’t flatter yourself, prongsie-boy. i don’t care about who you are, only that you don’t bring any of your problems onto my ranch.”

the words were sharp, but something in your voice softened the blow, as though you knew better than to pry into the lives of men who wore secrets like second skins.

james held your gaze for a moment longer before looking away, his lips quirking into the faintest smile.

the barn settled into a quiet rhythm as you finished stitching him up. the thunderbird’s faint, steady chirps filled the silence, punctuated only by the occasional rustle of hay or golden’s soft snoring.

when you finally tied off the thread and leaned back, you wiped your hands on a rag and sighed. “there. you’ll live, though I wouldn’t go waving that arm around anytime soon.”

james flexed his fingers experimentally, wincing as the stitches pulled. “you’re good at this,” he said, an almost boyish grin flashing across his face. “should I start calling you doc?”

“fix up animals and the occasional trouble maker all the time, it's no biggie. and the only thing you can call me someone who doesn’t put up with nonsense,” you shot back, though you couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at your lips.

sirius snickered. “careful there, prongs. she’s not falling for your charms.” said prongs nudged his partner with his other elbow.

you chuckled lightly, before turning your attention to the thunderbird, you crouched beside prongs and gently reached out to touch the bird’s feathers. they were soft and warm under your fingers, a faint spark zipping through your hand.

“you’re a tough little thing, aren’t you?” you murmured, your voice soft.

the bird chirped weakly in response, its head resting against james’ palm.

“do you think he'll be okay?” james asked, his voice low.

“i think so,” you said, glancing up at him. “It just needs rest and care. same as you.”

james smiled again, and for a moment, the barn felt quieter, the weight of the world outside its doors momentarily forgotten.

but the moment didn’t last. padfoot cleared his throat, drawing your attention back to the group.

“so, what’s the plan, sweetheart?” he asked, his tone light but serious. “you gonna let us hole up here for the night, or should we start looking for another spot?”

you sighed, running a hand through your hair. “you can stay in the barn, but only for tonight. I'll bring yall some blankets and a meal but come morning, i expect you all to be gone. I don’t need any trouble coming this way.”

“understood,” moony said, his voice calm. “we’ll be out of your hair first thing.”

you nodded, glancing at golden, who was still sprawled out on the floor. “and if my dog decides she likes you more than me, you can take her with you.”

padfoot grinned, crouching beside golden and scratching behind her ears. “hear that, girl? looks like you’re coming with us.”

golden thumped her tail against the floor, clearly unfazed by the prospect.

you shook your head, brushing the last bits of dust from your hands as you turned on your heel, heading toward the house. “y'all can get comfy while i grab some blankets and food.”

you’d barely made it a few steps when boots crunched behind you, quick and deliberate. you turned, eyebrows raised, as prongs fell into stride beside you.

“i’ll help,” he said simply, as if it were already decided.

you blinked, surprised but masking it well. “you don’t need to.”

“didn’t say i needed to,” he shot back, a small grin tugging at his lips. “i said i'll help.”

you stopped walking just long enough to level him with a look. “you tryin’ to earn points, prongs?”

he shoved his hands into his pockets, rocking back on his heels slightly. “if I was, would I be winning?”

you huffed a soft laugh despite yourself and started walking again. “hardly.”

“good.” he fell back into step beside you, his tone light but his gaze more thoughtful than before. “wouldn’t want it to be too easy.”

the two of you walked toward the house in silence after that—him a little too comfortable, you a little too aware of it.

inside the house, the quiet wrapped around you both like a quilt—soft and well-worn but heavy in its own way. the floor creaked faintly beneath your feet as you led him toward the kitchen, where a pot of stew still simmered on the stove.

“blankets are in the sitting room,” you said, gesturing loosely toward the next doorway as you moved to heat up the stew. “if you’re so keen to help, you can grab a few.”

“your wish is my command, sweetheart.”

prongs shot you a playful salute before turning toward the sitting room. you didn’t need to look to know he’d be nosy—poking around just enough to seem innocent. you heard the soft shuffle of movement and the faint pause that told you he’d noticed the photos.

you sighed quietly to yourself, stirring the stew.

“nice place you’ve got here,” he said when he reappeared, arms full of blankets, his tone casual but his gaze a little too observant. “feels lived in.”

"it is,” you replied simply, ladling stew into a bowl

you caught sight of his lips peeking out through his bandana, the grin on his face almost boyish—like he wasn’t someone you’d just found in a barn, half-ready for trouble.

“you know,” he started, his voice light but loud enough to stop you, “most folks’d want a name for their hero.”

“hero?” you scoffed, turning halfway to face him as you reached for a ladle. “you’re not exactly damsels in distress”

“true,” he said, grin already tugging at the corners of his mouth. the light caught in his hazel eyes, turning them a shade warmer, sharper. “but i figure if you’re savin’ me, the least i can do is know who i owe.”

you rolled your eyes, though there was no real bite to it. “didn’t ask for debts. i'd rather you owe my dog.”

prongs chuckled, running a hand through his already-untamed hair. “she’s already got my loyalty. you, though? jury’s still out.”

the audacity of it made you snort softly, shaking your head. “then you better keep it out,” you tossed over your shoulder as you grabbed a few bowls. “i’m not lookin’ for loyalty—just lookin’ to patch up your trouble before it makes more of it.”

he leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, a teasing light still dancing in his eyes. “patchin’ us up, savin’ us, feeding us... starting to sound a lot like a hero to me.”

you shot him a flat look, pressing a spoon into his hand before he could get too smug. “better keep quiet, or I’ll start charging. and you know it’s best if you don’t know my name either, ‘cause i'm pretty sure your mother wouldn’t have named you, prongs.”

he grinned, taking the spoon like it was a trophy. “worth a shot, cowgirl.”

after the stew had warmed to perfection—and after prongs insisted on several taste tests to ensure it really was— an obvious attempt to get a few sips in before the other boys. he trailed behind you with his arms full of blankets and bowls. the two of you stepped down from the porch together, him unusually quiet.

“hey cowgirl,” he said after a moment, voice softer. he shifted, balancing the bowls in his hands as if giving himself time to pick the right words. “really, uh, thank you—for all this.”

it wasn’t just the food and blankets he meant, you realized. It was everything. patching them up, giving them a place to catch their breath. the weight of it sat between you, light but solid.

you blinked, caught off guard by how genuine he looked—how earnest. a beat passed, then another.

you shrugged, pushing past the sudden warmth curling in your chest. “don’t mention it,” you said, quieter this time.

his lips quirked up into a small smile, like he’d caught something in your tone that you didn’t mean to show. He fell into step beside you again, the steady crunch of boots on dirt feeling almost familiar now.

“blankets and food,” you announced, setting the pot of stew down near moony and a still-sleeping padfoot, who was now getting shaken gently by moony.

moony offered you a sweet smile, the kind that would melt hearts. the sleepiness in his eyes becoming more predominant with the smell of the stew and sight of the blankets in prongs hands seemingly lulling him closer to sleep. "thank you for this doll."

prongs, still at your side, dropped the blankets with a dramatic flourish. “delivered with love,” he added, far too pleased with himself.

“yeah, don’t push it, prongs,” you mumbled.

the others didn’t seem to notice the way he grinned at that—like he’d won something—but you did. You noticed the way his eyes lingered a little too long, the way he settled down into the dirt like he wasn’t a guest here, like this was just another moment in a long line of them.

“not bad for a hero, huh?” he murmured, low enough that only you could hear.

“eat your stew,” you muttered back, pressing a spoon into his hand for the second time that evening.

prongs chuckled softly, but he didn’t argue. For a little while, at least, he did as you told him.

as you turned to leave, the barn door creaked faintly behind you. "rest up," you said. "tomorrow’s a new day, and I don’t want any of you messing around while I’m trying to figure out how to keep my animals in line."

"wouldn’t dream of it, sweetheart," he called out, his voice carrying that same teasing undertone.

“yeah, yeah- sweet dreams, darlin’,” a half-awake padfoot called after you.

you stiffled a giggle, feeling the warmth of his gaze follow you as you disappeared into the house, the familiar ache of laughter bubbling inside your chest.

you glanced back once—just once—as the door settled shut. Their laughter and the low murmur of voices lingered in the cool night air, along with something else. something dangerous and intriguing. handsome, yes. charming, absolutely. but trouble, you realized, had a way of making itself welcome.

[shockingblue]

bless the telephone!

[charlie-jl]

Cowboy Jam

Obsessed with him tbh

Lipgloss

[iamthedamndonutdrawcat]

Fugly cowboy remus lupi- *gets shot*

well yes!!!!!!!!

[z0mbieb0ybyersblog]

Wild Hearts Master List

pairing: Wolfstar, + side ships that will be added later

warning: mature, strong language, maybe some suggestive things 👀 , angst, fluff

ao3 tags: Cowboy Remus Lupin, Cowboy AU, cowboy like me on full volume, I love cowboys, save a horse ride a cowboy type of shit, Disabled Remus Lupin, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, inappropriate use of lassos, Wrote This While Listening to Taylor Swift's Music

summary:

Sirius Black is a runaway, burdened by a troubled past, who escapes the confines of his old life and seeks refuge, looking for work on a remote ranch.

The ranch is owned by Remus Lupin, a rugged cowboy who keeps to himself, haunted by his own secrets. Who is looking to hire someone to work on the farm with him because Remus is unable to do the work alone after a farm accident that left one of his legs permanently disabled. Remus had other farmhands but needed someone to live on the ranch with him and take care of the rest of the work.

originally published on ao3

Chapter One - The Homestead