F - fluff S - smut A - angst
☆ - one shot ♡ - series ◇ - headcannons
last updated - 23/05/2026
⤷ fic count - 18
poly jily -----------
♡ mister carter - @g1rld1ary | F. S.
⤷ in your first week at your summer internship for a top law firm in london, you meet james and lily potter; partner at the firm (your boss) and his fashion-empire wife. despite the age gap and power structures, they both take a special interest in you
☆ poly!jily x reader | F. S.
⤷ “look, our swimsuits match!”
☆ poly!jily x fem!reader | S.
⤷ “how do you expect me to survive the summer with you both living in sundresses?!”
poly marauders -----------
♡ emt!marauders x fem!reader - @moonstruckme | A. F.
☆ poly!marauders x fem!reader - @moonstruckme | A. F.
☆ first - @brokenmenswhore | S.
⤷ virginity loss trope :)
☆ snogging on the couch - @strawb3rrystar | F.
♡ 1 boyfriend, 3 perverts au - @yasministration | F. S. A.
☆ dad!marauders x mum!reader - @ellecdc | F.
⤷ mum!reader who try to musicify their child
☆ dad!marauders x mum!reader - @ellecdc | F.
⤷ mum!reader who saves their daughter from the boys' tyranny
☆ poly!marauders x fem!reader - @ellecdc | F.
⤷ reader who is not pranking them right now
☆ necklace - @yasministration | F. S.
poly marauders + lily -----------
☆ poly marauders + lily x fem!reader - @ellecdc | F.
⤷ reader who plays for hufflepuff
poly moonwater -----------
♡ poly!moonwater x fem!reader - @ellecdc | A.
⤷ reader who was bitten over the winter hols
☆ poly!moonwater x pregnant!reader - @ellecdc | F.
⤷ reader who's in her first trimester pt.2
poly prongsfoot -----------
☆ poly!prongsfoot x reader | F.
⤷ “i don’t care how hot is it, i still want to cuddle with both/all of you.”
poly rosekiller -----------
☆ poly!rosekiller x fem!reader - @ellecdc | F.
⤷ reader who they love to spoil
poly wolfstar -----------
☆ poly!wolfstar x fem!reader - @ellecdc | A. F.
⤷ reader who they believe to be a muggle
Do you think I could request poly!marauders + lilly x fem reader where reader is best friends with them and has a secret crush for her best friends but assumes it is unrequited so she takes it slow until she catches them kissing secretly and getting together and realizing they're all dating so she backs off and suffers from heartbreak until she emotionally shuts down.
But she doesn't realize that the lot of them actually like her like that so they start to pine and simp for her together for years (reader being too oblivious due to denial and bad memories) and it takes up until graduation day for them to finally confess. Sorry if this is too much but your latest jily fic was so good but I need more angst before the payoff (cuz the angst is so delicious!) and marauders would be even better 😭
Never had much faith in love or miracales
summary : You were best friends with the Marauders and Lily, woven into their circle with teasing, study sessions, and quiet lakeside talks. But one night, rounding a corner, you saw them — James, Sirius, Remus, and Lily — tangled together in intimacy, kissing and laughing in ways that felt closed off to you. They didn’t notice you, and you scurried away, heart breaking. That moment planted the thought that you were just an outsider, extra weight in their closeness.
masterlist II Navigation II poly!marauders masterlist
The fire in the hearth was burning low, casting long shadows across the stone walls. The Gryffindor common room had that particular hush it only carried late at night — when most of the house had gone to bed, and only the restless lingered.
You were nestled into the heart of it, surrounded by the people who had become your world. Sirius sprawled across the rug like he owned it, his hair catching the firelight in wild streaks, every inch of him radiating reckless bravery. James perched on the arm of a chair, glasses sliding down his nose, his grin as loyal and steady as the heartbeat of the group. Remus tucked himself into the corner with a book, quiet endurance etched into the slope of his shoulders, the kind of strength that didn’t need to be shouted. Lily sat cross-legged on the floor, her sharp intelligence alive in every glance, every word, grounding the chaos with clarity.
And then there was Peter — curled up nearby, half-dozing, safe in his role as little brother. You loved him fiercely, but differently. He was family, not someone your heart tangled itself around in the same way it did with the others.
It was in moments like this, when laughter and banter sparked between them, that you felt the weight of your crushes most keenly. Each one rooted in something deeper than surface attraction: Sirius’ bravery, James’ loyalty, Remus’ endurance, Lily’s intelligence. They were qualities that drew you in, made you ache with admiration, and left you wondering if they saw you the same way.
The fire crackled, Sirius tossed a cushion, James leaned forward with a grin, Remus murmured without looking up, Lily nudged your knee — and suddenly, the night unfolded into the kind of scene that would linger in memory, warm and complicated all at once.
The Gryffindor common room was thick with midnight mischief, the fire burning low as Sirius sprawled across the rug, eyes gleaming with reckless delight. He was halfway through describing the prank of the century — enchanted suits of armor marching into the Great Hall, bawdy ballads echoing off the stone — when James leaned forward, glasses slipping down his nose, and added eagerly that they’d claim it was all in the name of school spirit.
Remus smirked faintly from his corner, book forgotten in his lap, while Peter nodded so hard it looked like his head might fall off. The boys were practically vibrating with anticipation, their voices tumbling over one another in excitement.
Beside them, you and Lily exchanged a glance — heads tilted, lips twitching, amusement coating your expressions. It was the kind of look that said boys will be boys, without needing words.
“Honestly,” Lily said, shaking her head, her tone dripping with mock exasperation, “you lot never tire of embarrassing yourselves. Juvenile doesn’t even begin to cover it.”
You grinned, chiming in before Sirius could protest. “She’s right. If you put half this energy into studying, you’d all be top of the class instead of top of detention.”
James clutched his chest in mock offense. “Detention builds character! Besides, Quidditch counts as academics in my book.”
Lily snorted, her green eyes flashing. “Yes, James, because chasing a flying ball is clearly the pinnacle of higher learning.”
Remus smirked, dry as ever. “Don’t encourage him, Lily. He’ll start writing it on his essays as a qualification.”
You leaned forward, playful, unable to resist. “Honestly, it’s like babysitting a pack of overgrown children. You’re ridiculous.”
Sirius shot you a wolfish grin, his voice low and daring. “Ridiculous? Or daring? There’s a difference, love.”
Lily arched an eyebrow, amusement sparking in her eyes. “Daring would be standing up to Malfoy in Potions without turning his cauldron into a swamp. What you’re describing is chaos for chaos’ sake.”
The boys groaned in unison, but the laughter that followed filled the room, warm and familiar. You and Lily shared another glance — half mocking, half affectionate — the kind that said you’d always be there to keep them in line, even if they never listened.
The corridors were quiet, the torches burning low as you wandered back from the common room. Each step seemed to carry the echo of their laughter — Sirius’ wolfish grin, James’ mock offense, Remus’ dry wit, Lily’s sharp teasing. You could still see the way the firelight had caught in their eyes, the way the room had felt alive with mischief and belonging.
And yet, as you replayed it all, the ache settled in. Sirius, brave and reckless, had smiled at you like he smiled at everyone. James, loyal to the bone, had flushed at your words but his heart was already tethered elsewhere. Remus, enduring and gentle, had ducked his head, but not because he saw you the way you saw him. Lily, brilliant and grounding, had leaned close, but her affection was friendship, not the kind of love you secretly craved.
You sighed, shaking your head at yourself. Honestly, stop it, you thought. Nobody is in love with anybody. You’re just friends. Best friends. That’s all.
But you spoke too soon.
As you rounded the corner, the torchlight caught on a tangle of figures just ahead. Sirius pressed close to James, laughter swallowed in a kiss that was more daring than any prank. Lily’s hand cupped Remus’ cheek, her intelligence softened into tenderness as his endurance melted into vulnerability under her touch. It wasn’t frantic or messy — it was warm, deliberate, the kind of closeness that spoke of secrets shared and boundaries already broken.
You froze, breath caught in your throat, the scene unfolding like a revelation you weren’t meant to see. The ache you had been trying to laugh away sharpened, cutting deeper. They were all on each other, lips brushing, hands tangled, bodies leaning into one another with a familiarity that left no room for doubt.
And suddenly, your self-chiding felt hollow. Because here, in the flicker of torchlight, it was clear: love was not absent. It was alive, burning between them — just not with you.
They didn’t notice you.
Your breath caught, and before the sound could betray you, you scurried back the way you’d come, footsteps muffled against the worn carpet. The ache in your chest was immediate, sharp, and it pressed harder with every step. How long have they been together? The question reeled through your mind, relentless. Did they not want me to find out? Did they think of me as extra weight? Was I always the outcast, the one orbiting their world but never truly inside it?
By the time you reached the stairwell, your chest felt tight, your eyes stung. You pressed a hand against the cool stone wall, trying to steady yourself. Nobody is in love with anybody, you had told yourself moments ago. But the truth was there, undeniable, burning in the torchlight you’d fled from. Love was alive between them — just not with you.
The library was hushed, sunlight filtering through tall windows and painting the dust motes gold. You sat hunched over a heavy tome on ancient runes, the characters blurring as your mind kept circling back to what you’d seen in the corridor. Every page you turned felt heavier, every symbol harder to focus on.
A soft voice broke the silence. “Studying or sulking?”
You looked up to see Lizzy — her Hufflepuff scarf draped loosely around her neck, her smile gentle but knowing. She slid into the chair beside you without waiting for permission, as she always did. Lizzy had been your anchor long before the Marauders, the one you confided in when the world felt too heavy.
“I’m trying to study,” you muttered, tapping the runes with your quill, “but my brain won’t cooperate.”
Lizzy tilted her head, eyes narrowing with concern. “Something happened.”
You hesitated, the ache in your chest pressing harder. Finally, the words spilled out. “I saw them. James, Sirius, Remus, Lily… together. Kissing. Close. And they didn’t even notice me.”
Lizzy’s expression softened, her hand reaching across the table to squeeze yours. “Oh, [Name]…”
The questions tumbled out before you could stop them. “How long have they been together? Did they not want me to find out? Do they think of me as extra weight? Was I always just… the outcast?”
Lizzy shook her head firmly, her voice steady. “You are not an outcast. You’re their friend, their heart. But sometimes people keep secrets because they’re scared, not because they don’t love you. You’ve always been part of them — even if they’re tangled up in each other too.”
Her words didn’t erase the sting, but they steadied you. In the quiet of the library, with ancient runes spread before you and Lizzy’s hand warm against yours, you felt the first thread of comfort weaving its way back into your chest.
The library had settled into that comfortable rhythm again, you and Lizzy drifting from heartbreak into laughter, talking about everything and nothing at once. She was mid-sentence about how ridiculous Sirius looked when he tried to juggle quills, when the door creaked open.
Peter slipped inside, clutching a stack of parchment, his hair sticking up in that familiar, endearing way. He looked tired but determined, muttering something about finishing his Charms essay.
You glanced at Lizzy just in time to catch it — the faintest blush rising to her cheeks, her eyes darting down to the book in front of her as if the runes had suddenly become the most fascinating thing in the world. She buried herself in the pages, shoulders stiff, trying to hide the warmth spreading across her face.
Interesting, you thought, a grin tugging at your lips. Lizzy liked Peter.
And of course, like any best friend, you had to do something about it.
“Oi, Peter!” you called, waving him over before he could scuttle off to a corner. “Come sit with us. Lizzy and I were just talking about how hopeless we are at Charms.”
Peter blinked, surprised, then shuffled over, dropping his parchment onto the table. “Really? I’m not that good either, but… I guess we can suffer together.”
Lizzy peeked up from her book, her blush deepening, but she managed a small smile. “I’m sure you’re better than you think,” she said softly, her voice almost shy.
Peter’s face lit up at the encouragement, his usual quirks bubbling to the surface — the way he fiddled with his quill, the nervous laugh that escaped when he tried to explain something, the earnestness that made him endearing despite everything.
You leaned back, watching the two of them, amusement fizzing in your chest. Lizzy’s blush, Peter’s quirks — it was all too perfect. And if you had anything to say about it, this little spark wouldn’t go unnoticed for long.
You had left Lizzy and Peter behind in the library, their heads bent close together, laughter muffled between parchment and ink. Out here, the silence was heavier, and your mind refused to quiet.
You weren’t thinking in neat sentences anymore — just fragments, flashes. The way James’ grin had softened, Sirius’ laughter swallowed in a kiss, Lily’s hand steady against Remus’ cheek. It wasn’t the what that haunted you, but the hiddenness of it. How long had this been stitched together without you? Was there a circle you were never meant to step into? The thoughts tangled, jagged, pressing harder with every step.
A flare of light broke your reverie. Sirius leaned against the stone wall, cigarette glowing between his fingers, hair wild in the night air. He smirked, as if he’d been waiting for you.
“Fancy a smoke?” he asked, voice casual, daring, the kind of offer you had never refused before.
But tonight, you shook your head. A small motion, almost imperceptible, but enough. You didn’t want to seem like someone who only took and took, not when your chest already felt hollow. Sirius blinked, surprise flickering across his face — you never refused a cigarette, especially not from him.
Your eyes fell, unbidden, to the small patch of red and purple blooming on his neck. Hickeys. The sight made your stomach twist, and you quickly averted your gaze, heat rushing to your cheeks. Sirius noticed the glance, though he failed to see the sadness behind it. His grin returned, sharp and teasing, as if nothing had shifted.
“Don’t worry, love,” he drawled, voice dripping with flirtation, “there’s plenty more where that came from.”
But you were already moving, your footsteps quick, carrying you deeper into the park. Sirius watched you go, baffled by the refusal, cigarette burning down between his fingers. He didn’t notice the ache in your eyes, the way your silence was louder than any laughter you had left behind. And you — you kept walking, the questions pressing harder, the night swallowing you whole.
The Black Lake shimmered under the moonlight, its surface rippling with the faintest breeze. You had wandered here to escape the weight of the castle walls, the heaviness of thoughts that refused to quiet. And there he was — Remus — perched on the grass with his back against a tree, a book open in his lap.
Your book.
You slowed, watching him turn the page with that careful precision he always carried, as though even paper deserved gentleness. The sight tugged at something inside you, equal parts warmth and ache.
“You know,” you said lightly, stepping closer, “I did lend you that book, not gift it. You could at least pretend you’re going to return it someday.”
Remus looked up, startled, then smiled faintly, the kind of smile that never quite reached his eyes. “I was only keeping it safe. You have a habit of leaving your things scattered.”
You arched a brow, teasing. “Safe? Or stolen? I should start charging you a library fee.”
He chuckled softly, but there was a shadow in his gaze, something that mirrored the heaviness in your own chest. The laughter didn’t erase it, only softened the edges.
You sat down beside him, the grass cool beneath your palms. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence filled only by the gentle lap of water against the shore.
“Do you ever feel,” you murmured, eyes fixed on the lake, “like everyone else is living in a story you weren’t invited to?”
Remus’ fingers stilled on the page. He didn’t answer right away, and when he did, his voice was quiet. “More often than I’d like to admit.”
You glanced at him, the book still open in his lap, the moonlight catching the tired lines of his face. There was comfort in his honesty, even if it didn’t erase the ache.
“Maybe that’s why I keep lending you books,” you said, forcing a smile. “So at least we’re reading the same story, even if we’re not in it.”
Remus’ lips curved, bittersweet. “Then I’ll keep reading. As long as you keep lending.”
The words lingered between you, gentle and heavy all at once. You wanted to laugh, to tease him again, but the ache pressed harder, reminding you of the secrets you’d stumbled upon, the hickeys you’d seen, the circle you weren’t part of. And yet, sitting here by the lake, with Remus’ quiet endurance beside you, it felt like you weren’t entirely alone.
Remus chuckled, but as he glanced at you, something tugged at him. There was a distance in your eyes, a heaviness that didn’t match the playful words. You were teasing, yes, but the laughter didn’t reach your gaze.
He reeled inwardly, unsettled. You had always been steady, quick with warmth, never one to refuse closeness. But tonight, there was a shadow clinging to you.
“You’re different,” he thought, though he didn’t say it aloud. Instead, he tilted his head, voice soft. “Strange, seeing you so quiet. Usually you’d be scolding me for dog-earing the pages.”
You laughed faintly, but it was thinner than usual, like glass stretched too far. Remus noticed — the way your shoulders hunched, the way your eyes flicked away from his. Something had shifted, and he couldn’t place it.
He tried to tease again, to lighten the air. “If you’re going to sulk beside me, at least let me finish the chapter first. Misery loves company, but books love silence.”
But even as the words left him, his chest tightened. He wanted to ask — what happened? why do you look like that? — but he held back. You had always confided in him when you were ready. And so he sat there, book open, heart restless, watching you with quiet concern.
The lake lapped against the shore, the night pressing close, and Remus thought: Something’s wrong. She’s angsty, distant… and a little broken. But she doesn’t want me to see it.
And so he reeled, silently, caught between the comfort of your presence and the ache of what he couldn’t name.
Transfiguration had ended, the classroom emptied of chatter and footsteps, leaving only the familiar cluster — James, Sirius, Remus, Lily, and you. The quiet was almost strange, the desks scattered with parchment and quills, the air still humming with the remnants of McGonagall’s sharp voice.
You were all fixed in place, lingering as you often did, when the door creaked open again. Peter stumbled in, cheeks flushed, hair sticking up in that endearing way, clutching a single rose in his hand.
Sirius leaned back in his chair, smirk curling. “A rose, Pete? Bold choice. Who’s the lucky soul?”
Remus closed his book slowly, eyes narrowing with quiet amusement. “You don’t usually walk into class looking like you’ve just run a marathon. Care to explain?”
Peter fumbled, the rose trembling slightly in his grip. “I—uh—it’s… it’s nothing.”
“Nothing?” Lily echoed, her tone sharp but amused. “You don’t bring a rose into Transfiguration for nothing.”
The Marauders went full dad mode then, voices overlapping, teasing but protective.
“Is it for a girl?” James pressed, leaning forward. “Or a boy?” Sirius added, grin widening. “Or did you just steal it from the greenhouse?” Remus teased, though his voice was gentler.
Peter’s face turned crimson, his words tumbling over themselves. “It’s—it’s not stolen! It’s—it’s from Lizzy.”
Your breath caught, eyes widening. Lizzy.
“She… she gave it to me,” Peter stammered, clutching the rose tighter. “She… she proposed. To me.”
The room fell silent for a heartbeat, the Marauders blinking in unison. Then, chaos.
James let out a low whistle. “Proposed? Merlin’s beard, Pete, that’s—” Sirius barked a laugh. “That’s bloody brilliant!” Remus shook his head, though his smile betrayed him. “And here we thought you’d never manage to string two words together around her.” Lily’s lips curved, eyes softening. “Lizzy’s braver than all of you combined.”
Peter fumbled again, words tripping over his nerves. “I didn’t—I didn’t know what to say at first, but… she smiled, and I—well—I said yes.”
You sat back, heart fizzing with a mix of shock and delight. Lizzy had done it. She’d proposed. And Peter, fumbling and flushed, had said yes.
The Marauders kept teasing, voices warm, protective, amused. But beneath it all, you felt the spark of something new — a story unfolding right before your eyes, one you had nudged into motion without even realizing how far it would go.
The teasing swelled, laughter bouncing off the walls, voices warm and protective. And in the midst of it all, you found yourself laughing too, the ache in your chest loosening. For a moment, you forgot the chaos of secrets, the sight of hickeys, the weight of unrequited love. You were simply there, part of the laughter, part of the teasing, part of the story.
And for that heartbeat, it was enough.
Until it wasn't.
The laughter had faded, Peter’s rose and flushed cheeks carried off to Potions and Lizzy. The Transfiguration classroom was quieter now, sunlight slanting across abandoned desks, dust motes drifting in the stillness. It was just you, James, Sirius, Remus, and Lily — the circle intact, the warmth lingering.
You sat there, heart heavy but steady, trying to hold onto the echo of joy. Then Lily shifted, her gaze steady, her lips parting as if she had been waiting for this moment.
“I was thinking…” she began, voice soft, almost hesitant.
But you didn’t let her finish. The thought had already struck you, sharp and certain. They don’t need me. I’m just extra weight. If I stay, I’ll only make them uncomfortable. Better to leave. Better to step away before they have to push me out themselves.
You rose quickly, forcing a smile that didn’t reach your eyes. “I should go,” you said, gathering your books with hands that trembled just slightly.
Lily blinked, her words caught in her throat, the rest of her sentence swallowed by your sudden departure. James frowned faintly, Sirius tilted his head, Remus watched with quiet concern. But none of them spoke, not yet.
The door closed behind you, the silence pressing heavier than any laughter had before. And in that moment, you believed your “brilliant” idea was mercy — leaving them free, sparing them the weight of your presence.
The door closed behind you with a soft thud, and the silence that followed was heavier than any laughter had been. For a moment, none of them moved. James sat frozen, quill dangling from his fingers, his brow furrowed as though he were trying to replay the last few seconds in his head. Sirius leaned back in his chair, cigarette unlit between his fingers, his grin fading into something sharper, unsettled. Remus still had the book half-open in his lap, his eyes fixed on the door, searching for meaning in your sudden departure. Lily’s lips were parted, her words caught in her throat, the sentence she had been about to speak swallowed whole.
“Did she just… leave?” James asked finally, voice low, disbelief lacing every syllable.
Sirius scoffed, though it lacked his usual bravado. “She doesn’t just leave. Not like that. Not without a joke, not without—something.” He shook his head, tapping the cigarette against the desk. “That was bloody weird.”
Remus closed the book softly, his expression unreadable but his eyes troubled. “She was… off. Last night too. At the lake. There’s something she’s not saying.”
Lily exhaled, frustration and worry mingling. “I was about to—” She stopped herself, biting her lip. “Never mind. The point is, she looked… sad. Like she was carrying something heavy.”
James leaned forward, his voice sharper now. “Sad? She was laughing with us five minutes ago. She was fine.”
“People can laugh and still be breaking inside,” Remus murmured, his tone quiet but firm.
Sirius frowned, his usual smirk nowhere to be found. “She refused a cigarette last night. From me. She’s never done that before. Not once. And she looked at me like—” He cut himself off, jaw tightening. “Something’s wrong.”
The four of them sat in the classroom, the sunlight slanting across their faces, confusion thick in the air. They replayed every detail — your smile that hadn’t reached your eyes, the tremor in your hands as you gathered your books, the way you had left before Lily could finish her sentence.
“She thinks she’s alone,” Lily said finally, her voice breaking the silence. “And she’s wrong. But if she keeps pulling away…”
James slammed his quill down, determination flashing in his eyes. “Then we don’t let her. She’s one of us. Always has been. Always will be.”
Sirius leaned forward, his grin returning faintly, though it was tinged with worry. “Then we find her. And we remind her of that.”
Remus nodded, his gaze steady. “Before she convinces herself she’s better off without us.”
The classroom hummed with their confusion, their concern, their unspoken resolve. You had left believing you were extra weight, but behind you, the Marauders and Lily sat tangled in bewilderment, already plotting how to pull you back into the circle you thought closed.
..
It had been a week. Seven long days of reshaping your life around absence. You came to breakfast late, when the hall was nearly empty, and slipped into dinner early, leaving before the laughter could swell. Sometimes you reversed it — arriving early, leaving late — but always with the same purpose: to avoid them. To avoid the circle that had once felt like home.
Your schedule bent like clockwork, every corridor timed, every class exit calculated. You knew when James lingered after Quidditch practice, when Sirius swaggered into meals late, when Remus tucked himself into corners with books, when Lily’s voice carried across the hall. And you made sure you weren’t there.
It worked. You didn’t bump into them. Not once. But the ache didn’t fade. If anything, it grew heavier, pressing harder with every silence.
Meanwhile, the Marauders and Lily reeled.
James frowned at breakfast, scanning the hall. “She’s late again. That’s the third time this week.”
Sirius leaned back, smirk faltering. “She’s avoiding us. Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed.”
Remus closed his book softly, his gaze troubled. “I noticed. She’s changing her schedule. On purpose.”
The four of them sat together, meals half-eaten, parchment forgotten, their confusion growing with each passing day. They replayed every detail — your sudden departure from Transfiguration, the tremor in your hands, the way you had smiled without warmth.
...
The Gryffindor dormitory was hushed, the fire in the common room long extinguished, leaving only the faint glow of moonlight spilling through the tall windows. Your roommate had gone off with her boyfriend, probably staging in the Ravenclaw dorm for the night, leaving you alone in the room.
The silence pressed in, heavy and unfamiliar. Usually, there was chatter, laughter, the rustle of parchment or the creak of bedsprings. Tonight, there was only you — your books stacked neatly on the desk, your quill abandoned mid-sentence, the air thick with thoughts you couldn’t shake.
You lay back against the pillow, staring at the ceiling. The week of avoidance had worn you thin. Every meal timed, every corridor calculated, every laugh swallowed before it could escape. You had reshaped your life around absence, and now, in the quiet of your dorm, the ache was louder than ever.
Then came the knock.
At first, you thought you imagined it. A soft rap against the door, hesitant but insistent. You froze, heart thudding, before sliding off the bed and padding across the room.
When you opened it, the sight nearly stole your breath.
James, Sirius, Remus, and Lily stood clustered in the corridor, their faces a mix of determination and confusion. Sirius leaned against the doorframe, cigarette dangling unlit between his fingers, his usual grin replaced by something sharper. James’ brows were furrowed, his Quidditch hair still damp from practice. Remus held the book you’d lent him tucked under his arm, his gaze steady but troubled. Lily’s eyes softened, worry etched into every line of her face.
“[Name],” James said, voice low but firm. “We need to talk.”
Sirius tilted his head, smirk flickering but not quite catching. “You’ve been avoiding us. Don’t bother denying it.”
Remus added quietly, “We’ve noticed. Every meal, every corridor. You’ve changed your schedule just to slip past us.”
Lily stepped forward, her voice gentler. “We don’t know why. But we’re not letting you disappear.”
The silence pressed heavy between you, their words overlapping, their confusion palpable. You tried to speak, but James cut in, his voice sharper now. “You think we haven’t noticed? You vanish at breakfast, you leave dinner early, you walk the long way around corridors. You’ve been dodging us for a week.”
Sirius’ grin faltered completely, his tone uncharacteristically serious. “You refused a cigarette from me. You’ve never refused before. Not once. And you looked at me like—” He broke off, jaw tightening. “Something’s wrong. And you’re not telling us.”
Remus leaned forward, his voice steady but weighted. “You don’t have to carry it alone. Whatever it is, we can handle it. But you have to let us in.”
Lily’s eyes softened, her voice breaking through the tension. “We care about you. More than you realize. And watching you slip away like this… it hurts.”
James slammed his hand against the desk, frustration spilling out. “You’re one of us. Always have been. Always will be. Don’t you dare think otherwise.”
Sirius’ voice softened, almost pleading. “We’d burn the whole bloody castle down before letting you walk away.”
Remus’ gaze held yours, steady and unyielding. “You matter. To all of us. Don’t convince yourself you don’t.”
And Lily, her voice trembling but sure, whispered, “Please. Don’t leave us.”
The dorm was heavy with their words, their confusion, their resolve. You had thought you were extra weight, thought leaving was mercy. But here they were, refusing to let you vanish, demanding answers, demanding you stay.
But the dam had broken. The tears spilled, your voice trembling as the truth poured out. “I saw you. All of you. Together. Kissing. Touching. And I thought—Merlin, I thought it meant I was outside the circle. That you didn’t want me there. That I was just… extra weight.”
Sirius’ grin flickered, his bravado gone. “Bloody hell,” he whispered, eyes wide. “You thought that? You thought we’d shut you out?”
Remus stepped forward, his gaze steady, his voice low but unyielding. “You matter. To all of us. That night wasn’t about shutting you out. It wasn’t about excluding you. It was… us, fumbling, figuring things out. But you? You’re part of this. Always.”
Lily’s eyes shimmered, her voice trembling but sure. “We love you. Maybe not in the way you feared, maybe not in the way you imagined, but we love you. And we’re not letting you disappear.”
You sobbed, the words spilling faster now. “I thought leaving was mercy. That if I stayed, you’d feel uncomfortable. That you’d laugh without me, love without me, and I’d just be… too much.”
James pulled you into a hug, fierce and unrelenting. “You’re not too much. You’re ours. And we’re not letting you go.”
Sirius wrapped his arms around you too, his voice breaking into laughter and tears all at once. “Bloody hell, you’re stuck with us. Whether you like it or not.”
Remus placed the book you’d lent him on the desk, his hand steady as it found your shoulder. “You gave me this because you trusted me. Don’t take that trust back. Not now. Not ever.”
And Lily, her hand warm in yours, whispered, “Stay. Please. Stay.”
The dorm filled with their voices, their arms wrapping around you, their laughter breaking through the tears. You weren’t extra weight. You weren’t outside the circle. You were part of it — and they weren’t letting you go.
hi, i just wanted to say i'm loving the prince!james au and so so excited to see how you end it! much love <3
Thank you angel <3
cw: muggle au, arranged marriage, discussion of war
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 transphobic agendas
poly!marauders x princess!reader ♡ 1.6k words
You wonder if you should be packing. It wouldn’t take long; you didn’t come to Gryffindor with much. Maybe the prospect of how simple it would be to leave is what keeps you still, sat stiffly on your bed while James paces the room from end to end.
You feel half frantic, twitchy, like you really should be doing something but you’re afraid to do anything at all. To move seems dangerous, which you know is a silly thought. The danger has passed, now. The war is ending. You wish your feelings about all that entails weren’t so complicated as they are.
“Have you eaten?” Remus asks Sirius quietly. The other boy is leant on the wall across from your bed with his jaw deadbolted shut, and what is perhaps meant to be a private conversation carries through the too-quiet room.
“Not yet,” says Sirius.
“We can go see what they have in the kitchen…”
“I’m good.”
That’s it. Where James is wearing a trench into the floor and Remus is in the unusual position of doing most of the talking, Sirius seems to have shut down. The mood has changed from their joy at telling you the news about Riddle, but you can’t fully make out its new direction.
“James?” Remus tries.
James stops. “Hm?”
Remus looks slightly pained, but it doesn’t wear away his fondness. “Lunch?”
“Oh.” James blinks. “Right, yeah. Maybe in a bit? You both ate, didn’t you? Sirius, you didn’t have breakfast, are you—”
“I’m good,” Sirius says again.
You feel your eyes darting about like a tennis match, trying to understand what they’re each thinking. It reminds you of how most interactions went when you first came to Gryffindor, and you don’t like it. You thought you were done with feeling on the outside.
When your analysis returns to Remus, sitting next to you on the bed, he’s waiting for you. “What are you thinking?” he asks, gently.
You swallow, shrugging helplessly. There’s less than a meter between you, but Remus feels so much farther away than he did at your picnic an hour ago. “I guess…I should talk to my family’s courtiers.” You look at James. “Have your parents heard anything?”
James shakes his head. “Not that they’ve told me.”
“What do they want me to do?”
“I…” James looks distraught, and also like he’s trying to hide it (James is not a very good actor). “I think it matters more what you want to do. They only want us to be happy.”
It’s the sort of thing you wouldn’t have believed a few months ago; anyone involved in politics always has an opinion, a directive, a motive, no matter how they try to soften it with diplomacy. If individual happiness was prioritized over the good of the people, things would fall apart. But you know Monty and Effie mean it as more than a platitude. They really will go along with whatever you choose to do.
“Would breaking off the engagement now have any repercussions for Gryffindor or Peleria?” Remus asks.
James frowns, tilting his head from side to side. “Some, yeah. But without the war, they wouldn’t be anything terrible.”
You nod along. “Things could go back to the way they were.”
You watch them each carefully as you say it. You don’t know what you’re looking for—agreement, displeasure, relief.
“Do you think you might visit?” asks James.
You press your lips into a smile. “If you’ll have me.”
His eyes go melty soft. Your heart mushes similarly. “Of course, lovely. We’ll have you as often as we can get you.”
“Is that what you want?” Remus asks tentatively. “For things to go back to how they were?”
You ignore a twinge of revolt in your gut. “What do you want?” you counter.
“I think that this should be your decision.”
“Why?” you ask. “It affects all of us.”
Your tone reveals more frustration than you mean for it to. Since your rather ungraceful fainting incident and the subsequent monumental shift in how each of the boys act around you, they haven’t let you feel alone in this for a second. You’re not going to let them abandon you now.
After everything, all the chaos and uncertainty of the last few months, you finally feel this quiet, steady warmth between you, an ember that might grow into something new if you let it. As grateful as you are that the war is over—because you are, that part isn’t complicated at all—you’re a bit disappointed that it means this new warmth you were only beginning to acquaint yourself with will likely fizzle out.
“But it affects you and James the most,” Remus reasons. He casts a look to the side. “James, what are you thinking?”
James, pacing again, puffs out his cheeks with a big breath. “It just feels like everything has happened so quickly,” he confesses.
“It was always going to.” Remus sounds almost solemn. “Even with the long engagement, you’d need to get married soon.”
“That was too fast, too.” James weaves around your vanity chair like slowing for even a moment is out of the question. Sirius tracks him silently with his eyes. “It was always a tactical marriage. We didn’t have time to really—you know.”
You nod, drawing your knees close. “Better to end it quickly than go through with something that was always going to be premature,” you say.
James is nodding, nodding, nodding, but his expression is still all pinched tight.
You turn to Sirius. He’s already watching you, and his gaze seems to catch and hold yours in that way that he does, like a challenge.
“Sirius,” you say.
He makes a short humming sound.
“You’re being so quiet,” you say, rather quietly yourself. Insecurity weaves itself through the fibers of your voice.
Sirius sighs and drops his head, fingers pressing into his browbone. “I’m trying not to be selfish.”
You brace yourself. “What would you say if you were?”
He shakes his head. “Like Remus said. This is your choice.”
“It’s not just mine,” you say stubbornly. “I want to know what you all think.” You hesitate. There are some things you might feel better not knowing, but you’ve never truly thought ignorance was bliss. If you did, things might have gone very differently for you here. “Would it make things easier for you if I wasn’t here?”
Sirius’ hand falls away, his brows hooking. “No.” The word sounds dragged out of him, rough and fast. “I want you to stay here.”
It shouldn’t surprise you. Sirius has been possibly the most plain about his feelings of all of you—though that may be partly because the contrast after he admitted them has been so stark. You keep expecting him to go back on it. For all of them to, honestly. Now would be the opportunity to admit that they only pitied you, that they’ve been spending time with you out of kindness and a sense of obligation, that your presence here causes more turmoil than anything else.
But Remus and James don’t disagree with him. James looks relieved; Remus watchful. Neither of them argue.
That new warmth flares between you.
“I think we all like having you nearby,” Remus says after a while, “but we know how much you’ve missed home.”
Your throat contracts. “If I went back, I think I’d miss you more.”
James’ whole face lights with hope. “You don’t have to go,” he says. “You could stay here, and just visit home when you want. We could go with you.”
“Would that even be possible?” you ask.
“Anything’s possible,” James says easily. A true child of Gryffindor, all confidence and determination. “We could split our time, if we wanted to. Obviously, I have to be here some of the time, and so does Sirius, but—”
“Alright,” Remus quiets him, a sweet curve at the corner of his mouth. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”
James holds his hands up. You feel your own mouth tug. When your eyes wander, Sirius finds them.
“You still haven’t said what you want,” he says.
You feel yourself shrink under three curious stares. In truth, there hasn’t been a question of what you want for a long time. Only whether you can have it. “I don’t want to get married,” you say. Your gaze goes to James, holding back the apology on your tongue. “It’s too fast, and it would never not be political. And we wouldn’t be able to…it couldn’t be all of us.”
“I’m not ready either,” James agrees. “I could do it, if we had to—and I—I didn’t mind that it was you, you know.” Heat rises to your face, and his cheeks darken too. “But if we don’t have to, I’d like to slow things down.”
“Could we do that?” you ask. “If I stayed here?”
“You always seem to forget that you’re royalty,” says Sirius, apparently feeling well enough to tease now. “We can do whatever we want, gorgeous. Is that what you want?”
You do. You want to explore Gryffindor on your own terms, knowing Peleria is safe and open to you when you want it. You want to get to know James, and Sirius, and Remus, without the need to solidify an alliance like a noose tightening around you. You want to see summer in this place, and to develop an earnest friendship with Lily and Marlene, and to let the warmth between you grow and grow and grow.
“I want to stay,” you say.
Remus’ eyes are flickering with warmth, too. “Then you should stay.”
Your first beginning in Gryffindor was forced. A stiff dress, a foreign home, a myriad of strangers who seemed to both pity and distrust you. A rough tumble into love, with a prince with a nice smile and a guard with a quick tongue and a seneschal who spoke gentleness into every breath. An engagement you didn’t know you weren't allowed to want. A war. A cruelly good kiss.
hi mae i love royal marauders au sm and im not sure if it was inspired by princess diaries but in case it is can we please get a scene inspired by the one in the second movie where mia is arguing (flirting) with nick in the closet and is caught in there with him and it looks crazy because she’s officially engaged to andrew but instead it’s reader getting caught in a closet (or just a deceptively compromising situation for a betrothed princess to be in) with sirius or remus and lily and everyone else in the castle is extremely confused and james is like wait this is kind giving best if both worlds rn 😭😭
Hi angel! It wasn't, but I sort of did a princess-diaries-inspired request based off this ask anyway, so thank you <3
cw: muggle au, arranged marriage, discussion of war, death
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 transphobic agendas
poly!marauders x princess!reader ♡ 2k words
Remus admits to coddling you some.
He knows you’re an adult, and a very capable one at that. You were brave enough to move to a new place on your own and resilient enough to hold it together through everything that followed. Remus likes to think that he could be that brave if he had to, but the truth is that he’s had James and Sirius for nearly as long as he can remember, and they have always had him. When you were unconscious, having fainted in Sirius’ arms and vomited a lot of what looked frighteningly like blood and Madam Pomfrey was bustling around you trying to fix everything while the rest of them sat there uselessly, Lily admitted that she’d found you crying after the ball that night. She felt guilty for not having checked in on you the next day, but Remus could only think that he was glad someone had been looking after you.
So yes, perhaps it’s a tad overcautious to wait around the war room until you’ve contributed the information on Peleria Sirius needs and then shepherd you away. You don’t need Remus monitoring your stress or overseeing your meals to ensure nothing conflicts with the diet Pomfrey’s assigned to you, but he likes to do it anyway. And if he takes your hand to help you cross the small stream at the edge of the castle grounds and ensures you sit on the softest possible patch of grass, that’s because he needs it, not you.
You moan when you bite into your sandwich, and Remus smothers a grin.
“I need to figure out something to do for Marlene,” you say. “She’s too good to me.”
Since her first attempt at a dish from your home went over so well, James tracked down a Pelerian cookbook, and Marlene has been enthusiastically experimenting with at least one recipe each day. Today’s is a sandwich filled with some sort of vegetable and sauce combination. Just like every time, you look like you could cry at the first bite.
“She seems like she’s enjoying the variety,” Remus tells you, starting on his own sandwich. It is very good. “Not that Marlene’s cooking has ever been monotonous, but I think she was getting bored of Sirius asking for so much risotto.”
You snort. It’s completely unladylike; Remus’ chest thrums with happiness. “Of course he’s obsessed with risotto.”
“He is very posh,” he agrees. Nevermind that you and James are literal royalty; Sirius is something else entirely.
“We’ll have to ask for at least one risotto this week, then. Wouldn’t want him going into withdrawal.”
A fond smile curves your lips as you take another bite, satisfied with yourself. Sirius is easy to tease even when he’s not around. It makes Remus’ stomach go funny to hear you do it, in a strangely pleasant way. You know, for perhaps the first time since you arrived in Gryffindor, exactly where you stand with them. It’s dissipated a layer of hesitancy around you that Remus didn’t even know was there. Now, you rib Sirius, and he ribs you back, but he also reaches for your hand when you get quiet and lowers his voice when you need for someone to speak to you kindly. James has stopped checking himself when he wants to touch you. Half the time you spend with him is under his arm, and he’s unabashed in doing things for you like scouring secondhand shops to find an old Pelerian cookbook.
Remus isn’t sure he’s changed much. He’s not as loud with affection as his boyfriends like to be, but he tries to make you feel cared for. An invitation for a break when you’ve spent half the day in war talks. A soft patch of grass. Listening better than he has been, and listening for the things you’re not saying too.
It’s nothing any of you feel ready to name yet, but it burns like a three-wicked candle in Remus’ chest. He’s familiar enough with the general sensation to recognize it.
“I guess baking something for Marlene wouldn’t really be anything special,” you muse, licking sauce off your fingers.
You turn your head towards him. The sunlight plays prettily over your features, your lashes casting palm leaf shadows over your eyes. “You don’t think that if you cooked for a living and someone brought you something they made, you would think it was sort of silly?”
“I wouldn’t think so,” he says, lips tugging.
“Right, but considering she eats her own food all the time, and I’d be going about this with no skill.”
Remus tuts. “Not no skill. Sirius told me about your cinnamon rolls.”
You laugh, nudging your shoulder into his playfully. “He’s so hung up on that. I think he’s upset he didn’t get more than one in exchange for helping.”
Remus hums and nudges your shoulder back. He keeps you both there, sun-warmed skin just barely touching. “I never got one.”
“Well, there didn’t end up being enough for everyone.”
“Or maybe you just didn’t think I needed to be won over.”
You grin. “Did you?”
He pretends to think about it, humming deliberatively. Your noses are inches from one another.
You freeze there at the unmistakable click of a camera.
Remus’ stomach drops as your eyes go big with fear, and then he’s turning around, the photographer already scuttling away down the hill behind you.
“Fuck,” he hisses.
You’re up in an instant, chasing after him, and Sirius was right, you can be fast when you want to be. The photographer is faster, though. You’re smart enough to stop before following him into the woods—saving Remus from the dilemma of whether to try going after you with his shitty joints or go straight to Sirius. You trek back up the hill a minute later, panting, your hands visibly trembling at your sides.
“Oh my god.” You bring one to the base of your throat, pressing down as though to quell something. “That was—that looked—”
“It’s alright,” Remus says automatically. “It’s only a photo. It’s going to be fine.”
“I’m so sorry.” Your voice wobbles. Remus feels a squeeze of panic as he realizes you’re close to tears. “I should have noticed he was there.”
He shushes you, taking your hand from your throat and threading your fingers together. Your pulse flutters like a trapped butterfly under his palm. “Neither of us noticed,” he says. Really, it’s Remus who ought to have known better. Taking you so far from home was a bad idea. Just because your complicated relationship is an open secret inside the castle doesn’t mean you don’t have to be careful outside of it. He begins packing your picnic away. “Lily has contacts at most of the local papers. Let’s see if there’s anything she can do.”
You nod, helping. “What are we going to tell her?”
“Just what happened. We were having lunch, and someone took a photo of us.”
“Do you…” You wear your bottom lip as you both stand, starting down the hill towards the castle. “I worry it’ll look like more. Do you think James and Sirius will be upset?”
Remus’ throat aches. This is becoming routine for you, he thinks. You start to be content here, and then something happens, and you’re made to feel like that contentment came from some fault in you. He takes your hand again. “No, love, they won’t be. Everything will be alright.”
He doesn’t want you to worry, but in truth Remus is humming with nerves all through your walk back. Not that his boyfriends will be upset; they’re each well past denying how they feel at seeing you with the others. But regardless of what you were doing or how innocent your conversation really was, the tabloids in Gryffindor make their money like tabloids anywhere else. If they can make it seem like you’re being unfaithful to James, that story will sell, and the royal family will have to come up with another one good enough to keep your alliance intact. The last thing the war needs is for the Princess of Peleria to be caught in a moral scandal.
Your grip on Remus’ fingers tightens as you enter the castle. You hesitate, but he tugs you gently in the direction of Lily’s office. You don’t make it all the way, though. As usual, trouble finds you.
“Hey!” James’ call is gleeful, which strikes Remus as odd considering he must have just come from the war room. Sirius is beside him, the pair of them turning the corner and spotting you. “Just who we were looking for.”
James’ eyes drop to you and Remus’ linked hands, and Remus watches as his cheer intensifies before it rises to your face. In the moment where James falters, his good mood recalibrating, Sirius is already moving towards you.
“What’s happened?” he asks, his gaze darting between you and Remus. Apprehensive, assessing. Ready to act.
“We, um.” Your voice scrapes, and you choke it off, your eyes welling. “I’m sorry.”
Sirius’ alarm only worsens, but he softens it for you, stepping forward to wrap you up in a hug. “Hey, shh.” He tucks your head under his chin. “We’ve got you. You’re okay.”
“Someone got a photo of us,” Remus says to Sirius’ questioning look. James was halfway to full whiplash, but he relaxes some at the explanation. “We were sitting close. I’m sure they’ll make it look bad.”
“Oh.” James nods. He looks steady, but Remus sees his throat bob. “Okay. We can handle that. Lily knows people, doesn’t she?”
“That’s where we were going,” Remus confirms.
“Is that all?” Sirius asks. His hand is splayed protectively over the back of your head, his other arm banded across your shoulders. “Sweetheart, don’t be upset over that. We’ll be okay. Bad press is nothing we haven’t had before. Once they caught me with my hand in James’ back pocket.”
James snorts despite himself. “We had to say he was getting my wallet for me.”
“Poor spoiled prince.” Sirius sends him a playful look. “Can’t do anything for himself.”
You make a sound like muffled laughter against Sirius’ front. His voice softens again.
“We were actually coming to give you some good news,” he says, as close to tentative as Sirius ever gets. Remus’ apprehension redoubles.
You pull away from Sirius’ chest. “What is it?”
James’ grin creeps back like it can’t stay gone for long. “Riddle’s dead.”
Remus feels the news like a physical hit. The breath puffs out of him.
You look about the same. James is hopeful, his excitement at sharing this with you barely contained, and Sirius’ arm hasn’t lowered from your back. He’s watching your face carefully.
“What?” you choke out.
“He was killed an hour ago,” Sirius tells you, like a promise. “We just got the report back. Half of his army has already deserted. The fighting isn’t done, but it will be soon. I give them a couple of days.”
You stare at him. At James. Remus thinks you’ve stopped breathing.
He clears his throat, startled to find it clogged. “The war’s over?”
“Soon.” James nods. His eyes alight. “We won.”
“Oh my god.” You step back, out of Sirius' arms, your hand covering your mouth. “Oh my god.”
A bit of worry permeates James’ joy. “Do you need to sit down?”
“No, I’m just—I can’t believe it.”
“I don’t think any of us thought it would be over so fast,” he agrees. “I mean, they were losing, but this really—I didn’t think we’d be able to end it with so few casualties.”
It says something about Riddle, Remus thinks, that even James doesn’t mourn him. James feels guilty after swatting a mosquito off his neck. But Riddle’s death means the preservation of hundreds, maybe thousands, of lives. It means every land he was set on conquering is safe, and, selfishly, Remus thinks they’re all most relieved that your home is safe now, too.
The full extent of the news looks to be hitting you in stages. It has been, Remus admits to himself, rather a lot for one afternoon. He understands James’ worry about you staying upright.
You loose a breath, and it might be the first real breath Remus has heard you take since he’s met you.
