#James potter x reader fluff

[ginevrapng]

you're alone with james in his room, lying in his bed and playing with his hair while he's laying his head on you. you've always loved playing with his hair and he's always loved you playing with it, he finds it relaxing and his hair is so silky and soft.

one of the many perks of him being head boy is that he has a separate room so he doesn't have to dorm with people anymore. he doesn't think there's a problem with sharing a room with his friends but when you used to come up to his room to spend time with him someone else would always be there talking to you, stealing your attention. he could handle when remus or sirius brought people back for the night with simple silencing charms and closing of the curtains but it was a different story when he wanted to see only you and instead you included everyone in the conversations you were having, you might have even ended up on one of the others bed. he wanted you all to himself. now that he's head boy he's gotten his wish and he gets all your attention.

james is so comfortable he could fall asleep. with the combination of you playing with his messy hair, him getting to feel your warmth and your cute squishy tummy underneath his head, he's in heaven. there's no place he'd rather be than with you.

you can tell that james is close to falling asleep due to him starting to talk less and when he does he does it languidly. "mmph, you're so comfy and soft."

you giggle at that, " 'm glad to hear it jamie. y'know if you end up falling asleep i'll do the same."

as you say that you hear sirius swinging the door open, followed by remus and peter. james grumbles at the noise and turns his head away from the door so he's laying with his cheek pressed up against you and nuzzles you. "you should of knocked sirius," remus scolds him.

"oh, give over. it's not like they were doing anything," sirius retorts.

james grabs hold of your waist tightly, silently wishing for them to leave and him to be able to continue nearly falling asleep on you. "yeah sirius, next time knock." james' heart beats quickly and his breathing hitches. is this a confession? "we could of been talking shit about you or conspiring against you." james wants to feel let down that it's not a confession about how you might have been together in ways that would constitute a silencing charm and closing of curtains, but he can't, you're so cute, just so very you, he laughs and true smile appears on his face, where his eyes crinkle at the corners with cheeks raised high.

"you may have forgotten prongs, because obviously i so rudely interrupted you, but we've got a prank planned with snivellus right now," sirius looks at you both and smirks.

"i thought you've been more careful with your pranks recently guys. why are you pranking snape?" you sit up and look at them all.

"because, my dear, snivellus deserves it," sirius replies leaning against the wall. james narrows his eyes at the term of endearment sirius called you, it went unnoticed by you but sirius noticed and smirked again.

you roll your eyes at 'snivellus deserves it', snape always deserves it but james said he'd try and be more careful this year since he's been appointed head boy and remus is a prefect as well. they said if they're going to be pulling anymore pranks they'll be more discrete but you don't think it will be discrete with the way sirius is talking.

"it was james' idea actually," remus adds on.

james sits up and he comes to his own defence quickly, "he a thousand percent deserves it this time."

you cross your arms and look at him annoyance, "you're not going to tell me why this time are you?"

"no, but you'll have to believe me on this." you grab hold of his arm and pout before dramatically falling back on the bed. james grins again as he takes that as a yes and pulls you back up. "are you gonna stay here until after 'm back?"

you shake your head and shuffle closer to him, " it's getting late jamie, i'm going back to m' dorm."

he thought you'd say that but he also had hoped that you'd stay and he'd come back with you asleep in his bed. "alright love, see you tomorrow morning?"

you nod you head and kiss his cheek before getting up, "night everyone, night jamie. please try not to get into any trouble tonight."

"can't make any promises," sirius tells you before remus whacks his arm.

"we'll be fine," peter reassures you.

"yeah, i'll keep everyone in check," remus tells you.

they successfully carried out their prank that night without getting caught. that morning you see snape with bright pink hair and the marauders grinning brightly. james grins the most, payback for calling my best friend someone you wouldn't touch with a ten-foot broomstick when rosier asked if you liked her and were friends. like she'd ever, EVER want to be friends with you, like she'd ever, EVER even tolerate you.

[starriesworlds]

starriesworlds's JAMES POTTER fic recs

you’re losing me

⤷ by @astonishment

you and james potter have a friendship like no other, with the most unbreakable bond… or so everyone thought. when you get hanahaki, you start pulling away from james and no matter how hard he tries, he can’t seem to do anything right. with your friendship being put to the ultimate test, will you find your way back to each other? or will james lose you for good? (also a remus lupin x reader fic)

if i kiss you, i’m sorry

⤷ by @astonishment (the way this whole post could easily be all mal's writing)

a miscommunication at a party leads to james asking y/n to be his girlfriend and the two quickly find themselves going from strangers to lovers. the problem is, it’s all fake… until it isn’t.

saudade

⤷ by @embrassemoi

James Potter realized he spent years chasing after the wrong girl. But is it too late to finally tell you how he feels?

what’s happening to me?

⤷ by @harrytpotter

James Potter was starting to feel more and more overprotective towards his friend Y/N and considerably annoyed at the blatant flirting she and one of his best friends were displaying publicly and at the thought she might be falling for Sirius. What was happening to him?

and i love her

⤷ by @dilf-lover99

The 3 times James tries to get the girl and the 1 time he finally does. Or In which James Potter is hopelessly in love with his best friend.

shattered

⤷ by @willowbleedsonpaper

fake dating james seemed easier in theory. you assumed feeling would never have to get involved. until everything flipped…

the one that got away

⤷ by @llavenderhazze

having a soulmate isn’t always easy, especially when the only thing on his mind is your best friend.

no longer yours

⤷ by @singmyaubade

James had disregarded you for multiple years, but when you have an epiphany in your final year, how does it feel to taste his own medicine?

hope you enjoy these wonderful fic recs! these authors are freaking amazing and deserve all the love for their writing.

- starriesworlds

[0anonnymouslyours0]

hi there!

maybe a fluff with my favourite James Potter? i was thinking something about reader leaving a lipstick mark on James..

enjoy writing, kisses:*

james my beloved, i want to kiss him all over <3

james is technically supposed to be leaving for quidditch practise... technically. but, instead, you've distracted him. i mean, how could he not kiss you, when you exit the bathroom, ready for the day- with your lips painted a perfect red.

how could he not pull you over, begging for a kiss. of course, you oblige, because how could you resist james potter. its sweet, hes all giggly, cheeks flushed as you kiss. his hands are firmly placed on your waist, pulling you tightly against him.

"okay.. practise jamie, you have practise." you giggle, pulling back and resting your hands on his shoulders.

"i know.. but-" he says, squeezing your waist.

you giggle, leaning in and kissing his cheek, leaving a lipstick print.

"off you go." you say, neglecting to till him of the mark you left on his cheek. and patiently waiting to hear the reaction of his teammates when james arrives at practise.

[luvindrr]

James is ecstatic when you gain weight

james potter x gn!reader | fluff | 317 words cw: mentions of weight, scales, implied ed a/n: based off of this short!

James is making his pre-workout smoothie when he realizes you’ve been in the bathroom for quite a while. That’d be okay, except now he’s sure he can hear you stepping on and off the scale. It worries him. “Lovie? You alright?”

He's glad to see you’re grinning when you open the door. You’re bouncing up and down, biting your lip, so excited you’re about to burst- it’s adorable but the silence is driving him mad. “What’s got you so happy, huh?”

Your energy escapes as a burst of laughter as you come barreling towards him, and James is prepared when you leap into his arms- he always is- twirling you above his head before hugging you to his chest. You’re giggling like mad, so he’s giggling like mad; his arms go weak and he thinks he might drop you. Suddenly, you stop laughing and cup his cheeks. James opens his eyes and gets a good look at your face- entirely alight- and grins even harder. “Jamie! I gained weight!”

“Aw, lovie!” James twirls you in the air again, giving you a little toss this time. “Oh, my love, I’m so proud of you!”

Your eyes are shining. “Can you tell?”

“Oof-” James loosens his grip, and you squeal while clutching him all the more closer. “Oh, you’re so heavy now; I don’t think I can hold you.” He falls to his hands and knees so you’re hanging just above the floor. You give a little shriek before falling, and James hovers over you, giggling all the while. Again, your hands find his face.

“It’s because you’re such a good cook, Jamie.”

He lowers to kiss your nose. “Must be.”

“Which is why you should cook dinner tonight.”

James hoists you back up with an exaggerated oomph. He rubs your thighs affectionately. “I would, sweetheart, but I just can’t get over the taste of your burnt eggs.”

masterlist

[bruisedboys]

underneath kitchen lights — james potter x reader

summary — james has a crush on you, lily’s shy and unbelievably sweet coworker. you nurse a crush of your own. (based on all my ghosts by lizzy mcalpine!)

or .. you got a slurpee for free, I caught you looking at me, in the 7/11 under fluorescent lights. I spilled mac and cheese on my pants, and thought about kissing you underneath kitchen lights!

contains — shy!fem!reader, florist!reader, strangers-ish to friends to lovers, rugby player!james, modern au, flirting, mutual pining, fluff, james being a total sweetheart, sirius being a twat and a good friend, wolfstar because I couldn’t resist, kissing, lovesick!james, idiots in love tbh, and ummm lots of references to all my ghosts!!

notes — um I am very nervous to post this. but also please don’t let it flop.

fem!reader 8k words

James has an embarrassingly big crush on you. For someone he’s only met twice now, you’re very good at getting stuck in his head. It’s hardly his fault — you’re lovely. You always smell like flowers (which is kind of a given, he supposes. You work with Lily at Harriet’s, the florist’s down the road). You’re very pretty. You’re quiet and a bit shy but you’ve spoken enough that James at least knows you’re polite and friendly.

He’s talked to you a grand total of one time. You’d exchanged a few words and James had been very very quick to fall in love with everything about you. Your hands as you wrung them in front of you — a shy tell, he’d guessed. Your voice, pretty and soft, and how it’d sounded when you said his name. The way you dressed, your hair, the quirk in your mouth when he’d made a joke, the hitch in your breath when he’d shook your hand. He was a goner the second he’d met you.

“Prongs,” drawls Sirius, followed by a hard punch in the bicep. “You know you’re not as subtle as you think.”

James scowls in the general direction of Sirius’ voice. He’d been staring at you, he’s sorry to admit. You’re talking to Lily and you’re smiling about something she’s said and you just look so pretty.

He badly wants to talk to you properly, he has ever since the first time Lily bought you around to a party like this one, but he’s scared of embarrassing himself. He’s not exactly the best flirter when it comes to girls he actually likes. His tongue gets all tied and he can’t say two words without ultimately embarrassing himself. He’s not as much of a charmer as everyone thinks he is. He’s also scared you won’t like him, but he won’t get into that.

“Shut up,” he advises Sirius, rubbing his sore arm. “I don’t even know what you’re on about.”

Sirius, sprawled on the couch next to James, rolls his eyes and snorts. “Yeah, okay,” he says, all sarcasm. “S’not like you’re burning holes into Y/N’s face or anything.”

For a split second James panics. He whirls around to look at you so fast he almost snaps his neck in half. Have you heard Sirius? Do you think James is a total creep now? No — you’re still engrossed in your conversation with Lily. James breathes a sigh of relief but it’s cut short when he realises Sirius is laughing at him.

“Mate,” he guffaws. “You’re hopeless.”

It’s James’ turn to roll his eyes. “Thanks a lot,” he says dryly.

Sirius grins with all his stupidly perfect teeth. “Y’welcome.”

James sighs and scrubs a heavy hand down his face. Maybe he is as hopeless as Sirius thinks. He’s certainly feeling quite hopeless right now. With you across the room and him sitting here unable to make himself get up and talk to you. As subtle as he can he twists to look over the back of the couch again to see what you’re doing. He’s just in time to see you disappearing into the kitchen by yourself, Lily now talking with the other girls by the ranch slider.

His heart rate spikes. This is his chance.

James is getting to his feet before he knows what he’s doing. He dodges another hearty punch from Sirius, pretends not to hear Lily when she asks him where he’s going, and follows you into the kitchen on clumsy feet like a puppy on a leash.

He stumbles into Lily’s kitchen and there you are. Standing with your head in the fridge, the bright white lights cast over your skin. And there’s a lot of skin to look at. Your shoulders, your upper back. There’s a beauty spot on your back, just next to your shoulder blade. Your dress floats just above the halfway point of your thighs. You’ve got really nice legs. James snaps his eyes back up to your head before he can feel too guilty and clears his throat.

You start and then whirl around, eyes wide as saucers, one hand curled around the fridge door.

“Oh,” you say, breathless. “James. You scared me.”

James is so busy melting over the way you say his name that he almost forgets to speak. “Sorry. Shit, I’m sorry, Y/N, I didn’t mean to.”

You shake your head and your big dangly earrings jingle like bells. “No, it’s okay. Don’t be sorry.”

You smile all soft and pretty and James really thinks he might pass out. He steps forward and leans against the kitchen island as casually as he can, when really he’s using it for support lest he keel over.

You’re looking at him like you’re expecting him to say something. He clears his throat again.

“Um,” he starts lamely. He braves through. “I, um— you look really nice tonight. I wanted to tell you earlier but Lily’s been stuck to you like a leech since you got here.”

You blink at him and James worries he’s said the wrong thing. Maybe this was the worst idea he’s ever had. And he’s had a lot of bad ideas. But then you beam.

“Oh,” you say, shocked like you can’t quite believe it. Which should be impossible, really, James thinks. You’re beautiful. It’s hard not to believe it. “Thank you, James.”

James smiles back. Your shyness at being complimented only fuels him. “You’re welcome. Just don’t tell Lily I called her a leech.” At this, you giggle, and James stammers through his next words, dazed from your laugh. “So, uh— are you looking for a drink?”

He gestures to the fridge, which you seem to have forgotten about, the door hanging wide open under your grip.

“What? Oh,” you say sheepishly, and suddenly you’re embarrassed and staring at your shoes. “No, I’m…” You lift your head and blink at him under your lashes. “Promise you won’t laugh at me?”

James is perplexed, but he’s not gonna laugh at you if you don’t want him to. He licks his dry lips. “Yeah, I promise.”

You smile, then dip your head towards him like you’re sharing secrets. “I was cooling off,” you admit, sheepish. “It got too hot in the living room and Lily’s patio has mosquitos.” You hardly give him time to reply before you’re cringing, saying, “It’s weird, right?” Like you know he’s gonna think it’s strange.

He doesn’t think it’s strange. Well, maybe a little. But he’s been found in worse positions at parties. You look so embarrassed about it James is almost sorry he asked. Almost, because embarrassed you is adorable. You lean back and scrub your neck awkwardly, bracelets clanking on your wrist.

“No, I know,” he groans sympathetically, nodding vehemently. “Lily really needs a mosquito net or something, so we can open the damn door without getting eaten alive. Can I join you?”

You look baffled for a moment, and then shy all over again.

“You want to join me while I stick my head in the fridge?” You ask, an amusement to your tone that James adores.

James shrugs. “Why not?”

You smile outright then. “Okay,” you say, stepping aside so there’s more room in front of the fridge for him. “C’mon, then.”

James practically skips over to you. The moment he steps into your space he can smell your lovely scent. Flowery and sweet, something floral like hyacinth mixed with something sweet like honey. It’s intoxicating. He feels like he could drown in it. But there’s no time for drowning, not when your hand wraps around his elbow and pulls him into your side, your feet shuffling to accommodate him.

“Move closer,” you urge shyly. “You gotta get the full experience.”

James moves closer. So close his arm brushes yours and he could hold your hand if he wanted to. He very much wants to. He imagines your skin is as soft as it looks.

The coldness of the refrigerator washes over him and it’s actually really nice. Even though he can be a total party animal sometimes, he understands why you would be here instead of in there. It’s quiet in here. Nice and cool. No lingering scent of heavy wine. No Sirius to tease him and no Marlene to badger him with questions about his love life.

“This is nice,” he says quietly, over the gentle buzz of the fridge.

You giggle softly. James thinks he’d like to make you laugh a million times over. “Isn’t it?”

“Mm,” James hums. “I should do this at parties more often.”

You laugh again, delighted at his joking. “You should. Then I wouldn’t be so lonely when I escape to the kitchen.”

James laughs too. He can’t quite believe his luck right now, squished in front of Lily’s refrigerator with you, elbow to elbow, the rest of his friends and the party long forgotten.

“I think I’ll take you up on that offer,” he says, smiling big.

The next time James sees you, it doesn’t go quite as well as previously. To put it simply, it’s a disaster.

First of all, he’s late. Remus and Sirius are having a housewarming party at their new place and he’s had training all day so he’d forgotten all about it. It’s not until 9:30, an hour after the party was supposed to start, that he’s climbing in his car after training and his phone buzzes.

He picks it up, exhausted, expecting one of his teammates. Instead it’s a string of messages from Remus.

You’re late James!!!!

We started without u. Where r u????

Sirius is gonna wring ur neck

James scrolls through the messages with a mixture of confusion and dread. Confusion because at first he has absolutely no idea what Remus is talking about. Dread when he realises.

He speeds all the way home, showers at lightning speed, pulls on a rumpled shirt and a pair of jeans that he’s sure aren’t clean, and he’s out the door within ten minutes of getting home. Still, by the time he gets to Sirius and Remus’ place it’s almost 10. His hair looks a mess but it’ll have to do. He doesn’t even think about the fact that you could possibly be there. That is, until he’s finished apologising profusely to his friends and Sirius mentions you. James perks up from where he’d been slumping on the couch, feeling exhausted and sorry for himself.

“What?” He asks, too loud. He tries to tamp it down but honestly, it doesn’t really work. He’s still buzzing with nervous energy when he asks, “Is she here?”

Sirius grins, looking uncharacteristically cat-like. “Uh— yeah,” he says, like it’s obvious. His stupid grin only grows and James thinks he’d quite like to punch his teeth out. “She came with Lily. Moons thought we should invite her. She’s a lovely girl, isn’t she?”

James knows he’s teasing but can’t quite bring himself to care — the prospect of seeing you has demolished all other feelings of pathetic-ness. He leaps off the couch and makes his way to the kitchen, guessing that’s where you’ll be, a barely touched drink in his hand and Sirius’ teasing following him all the way. He’s so busy fixing his shirt before he sees you that he doesn’t see you. He walks right into you on the threshold of the kitchen.

“James!” You gasp, stopping short.

James’ drink, to his horror, has spilt all down your front. His glass, previously full, is now half empty, the rest of it splattered all over your white top.

You barely have time to be surprised before he’s apologising.

“Shit,” he curses, mind blanking. His hands go to fix the damage before he realises he probably shouldn’t touch your chest, where his drink is now seeping into your top and showing no signs of stopping. He pulls his hands back lamely. “Shit, I’m so sorry, Y/N. Oh gosh. I’m so dumb, I—“

Your rush to forgive him is almost as quick as his apology. “No!” You shake your head and it’s awfully cute despite the situation. “No, it’s okay, James. I should’ve been watching where I was going.”

James grimaces. He tries not to look at the dark red stain that looks like blood on your white blouse. It is quite possibly the worst thing he could’ve spilt on you.

“It’s okay,” you say again, softer, reassuring, probably clocking the pathetic look on his face.

“Don’t, angel,” James says, shaking his head. “S’my fault.” He grabs your elbow gently and starts to pull you out to the living room, seeking Remus, who he knows will have a spare t-shirt that’s at least clean. “C’mon, I’ll find you something else to wear.”

“Wait, James. Wait.” You plant your feet in the doorway of the kitchen and James stops walking. He looks back at you, feeling guilty, hopeless, confused, and a bit endeared by you still, all at once.

“What?” He asks as gently as he can when he’s feeling like such a loser.

“I don’t wanna cause any trouble,” you say, biting down on your bottom lip so hard James is sure it hurts. You’re shy, he remembers. Quiet and polite. You probably don’t like people making a fuss over you, even though you should really. You’re pretty enough that people should be making a fuss over you all the time. “I think I’ll just go home, s’only a ten minute walk. I was going to leave soon, anyway.”

James frowns. “I can’t let you do that,” he says, shaking his head. He also can’t let you feel uncomfortable. He conjures a compromise. “Look, how about you wait here while I go ask Remus for a spare shirt? And then I’ll walk you home to make it up to you.”

He knows walking you home isn’t near enough to make up for ruining your top. But it’s the best he can do right now.

“But you just got here, didn’t you?” you say, frowning yourself.

James shrugs. That’s hardly a problem for him. “Don’t worry. I see those two asshats every day of my life, sweetheart.”

You still look unsure but James isn’t changing his mind. He’s going to walk you home if it’s the last thing he does. But first, something for you to change into. He leaves you in the kitchen and finds Remus, whom he asks for a shirt, to which Remus says, “What’s that for?” too loudly.

James explains what happened dejectedly. He’s not exactly surprised when Sirius laughs at him for it.

It’s a quiet walk to your place. You live close, which is both good and bad. Good because it means every time James is at Remus and Sirius’s, he’ll know you’re only ten minutes away. Bad … well, for the same reason.

James tries his best to fill the silence with easy conversation. It’s not hard, especially when you’re so sweet and kind and answer his questions so pleasantly. You’re easy to talk to. You don’t laugh at him when he slips on his words. You don’t make him wait for answers. You ask him questions, too, timid as you are about it.

James finds he enjoys your company even more than he was expecting. You’re like a breath of fresh air. You’ve got the radiance of an early spring morning and the softness to go with it.

It’s safe to say he’s disappointed when you come to a stop in front of your place.

“This is me,” you say, fishing your keys out of your purse. You’re in one of Remus’ band tees and James thinks you look much better than Remus does in it. As much as he loves Remus. He realises he’s staring too late, his eyes following you as you walk up your front steps.

You unlock your door and then look back at him, timid.

“Did you want to come in?” You ask, sweet in your shyness.

James would very much like to come in. He also thinks he might fall on his face if he spends much more time with you. He’s already dizzy on his feet and he’s been with you all of fifteen minutes.

“No, no, that’s okay,” he says as kindly as he can. “I should probably get back, or Sirius’ll have my head.” At least he knows where you live now. In a totally not creepy way.

He steps forward to take your wrist in his hand, his thumb pressing into your pulse point. He can feel your heartbeat. It’s not quite as fast as his feels but pretty close.

“I’m really really sorry about your top,” he tells you. He spreads his fingers over your forearm, your skin warm as late summer under his touch. “Can I do anything to make up for it? Buy you a new one?”

He wasn’t joking, but you giggle, your face lighting up, your eyes crinkling at the corners. James feels something akin to a mad swarm of butterflies in his ribcage.

“No, James,” you laugh, breathless and lilting. Your free hand lands on his forearm and his skin burns under your touch. “It’s okay, really.”

“Okay,” James breathes. His head spins as you squeeze his arm. Your skin is impossibly soft. You smell so nice. “But, seriously, let me know if there’s anything I can do. It was such a nice top, it looked lovely on you.”

You flush like James knew you would. He’s slowly discovering he likes making you flustered more than he’ll admit.

“Thanks, James,” you say, and James imagines if he touched your face you’d be burning. “But, really, it’s okay. I’ll see you around?”

“Yeah. See you around, angel.”

It’s only after you close the door and James is at the bottom of the steps that he realises he should’ve asked for your number. He really is as hopeless as Sirius says.

-

James Potter is on your mind most of the time. You can’t help it. You’re not above admitting you have a crush on him. You are above admitting how big said crush is.

He’s really one of the sweetest people you’ve ever met. Sure, you don’t meet a lot of people. But you’re sure if you did he’d still be one of the best. He’s kind, he’s funny, he’s unbelievably charming. He’s a bit awkward sometimes and you like that, it makes you feel better about your own social ineptitude.

It also helps that he’s very very handsome. You would look at him all day if you could. He’s all dark, velvety skin, inky curls that you’ve imagined weaving your fingers through more times than you can count. Deep brown eyes turned bright with his ever-present smile. Thick eyelashes, a lovely sloping nose, a quirk to his mouth that you think you could get drunk on. He dresses well, too, though you’re sure he’d look just as good in a hoodie and sweatpants. Or nothing at all. You’d squashed that thought before it could go any further.

You don’t even mind that he spilled wine all over your nicest top. Sure, the stain is never gonna come out. It’s sitting in your closet, ruined. Embarrassing as it is, you smile every time you see it. James had made up for it tenfold anyway, walking you home and telling you he was sorry about a hundred times. It would be hard to not forgive him.

“Y/N?”

There’s a call of your name from the office door. You’re in here on your lunch break, not really eating more than you are thinking about James. Margaret, the older lady who owns Harriet’s but only comes in Thursdays and Tuesdays, is poking her head through the door.

“Hi, dear,” she says. “Sorry to disturb you, but there’s a customer out here asking for you? I can tell him to come back later, if you’d like, but he seems quite insistent.”

He. Of course, your mind flies straight to James. Which is ridiculous, you know, but it was already parked and idle at James, anyway.

“He’s asking for me?” You ask, perplexed. You don’t usually get personally requested by customers. And if it is James, you’re sure he’d ask for Lily instead.

“Yes, dear,” Margaret smiles, and she looks amused.

You get up because it’s your job, not because you’re hoping like hell it’s James. You put down your barely-eaten sandwich, brush past Margaret with a small ‘thank you’ and emerge into the shop.

There, standing at the counter, is James Potter.

“Y/N!” He says as soon as you emerge. He’s bouncy. Frazzled. You would even say excited. “Hi, lovely. I’m really sorry to barge in on you like this, were you on your break?”

“Oh, um, no. It just ended,” you lie. You still had a good ten minutes left. Not that you’re gonna tell him that.

James’ smile makes the lie worth it. “Perfect. ‘Cos I need your help.”

You think you physically perk up. Like a cat when it smells food is near. You hope he doesn’t notice.

“Okay,” you smile. You’re happy to help if it’s James you’re helping. “With that?”

James explains that he needs a bouquet, your best work, better than a boring one you can get at the grocery store because he really really needs this person he’s giving it to to like it. Your smile fades at this. At the fact that he’s getting flowers for someone else. He won’t tell you who this someone else is. He also won’t tell you why he’s giving it to them. You’re sorry to assume it’s a girl he likes. Possibly Lily? Maybe that’s why he asked for you and not her. You wouldn’t be surprised, they’re close and she’s gorgeous.

Of course, you help him anyway. You recommend flowers that last the longest, colours that go together, which ones smell the best. He’s asks you what your favourites are and ends up going with those, saying he trusts your judgment.

You have to admit it’s all very endearing. And you have so much fun helping him that by the time he leaves, arms full of a huge bouquet made up of all your picks of flowers, you’re beaming. Despite the daunting fact that he’s walking out of your shop with a bouquet for someone else.

Margaret appears once he’s gone. She’s got this big smile on her face that you can’t quite make sense of.

“He’s a handsome one,” she muses. “Is he your boyfriend?”

Your cheeks go redder than the roses on the shelf behind you.

Much later, you’re in the comfort of your small home, a bowl of steaming hot mac and cheese in your lap while the TV drones on. It’s some sort of romantic comedy that you can’t say you’re very interested in. Despite the lead male being very attractive. You’re about to change programmes when there’s a knock on your door.

You start. Nobody ever comes over. You don’t have many friends, and the ones that you do have, you tend to go over to their places, rather than the other way around. You’re so busy worrying about who it is that you haven’t even stood up before there’s another knock.

You get up off the couch, mac and cheese forgotten on the coffee table. You give your outfit a once over. You’re in sleep shorts and a hoodie that’s too big for you. Not your best work, but it’ll have to do. You fix your hair with little to no care and then open the door.

It’s James. You gape. You definitely should’ve paid more attention to your hair.

“James,” you say.

He beams right back, seemingly unaware of your sleepy appearance. “Hi, sweetheart.”

You stare at him. He looks pretty as ever. It’s only just going on sunset, and the colourful sky casts streaks of orange and golden yellow over his pretty face. The last bits of sun tangle themselves into his curls and drown themselves in his eyes. He’s dressed casual, but he still manages to pull it off, like you’d thought. A hoodie and jeans, a pair of beat up converse. He’s hiding something behind his back and you think you hear cellophane crinkle when he moves.

“I’m sorry I didn’t call,” he’s saying. He doesn’t have your number. But Lily does. Is it crazy to think he’s maybe asked her for it? “Is this a bad time?”

His kindness reminds you how to speak. “Uh— um, no. S’not a bad time, I just wasn’t expecting anyone. Are you— um, did you want to come in?”

You’re rambling, you know. He hasn’t even told you why he’s here and you’re asking him to come in.

James smiles kindly and it makes it all better. He’s good at that. At making you feel okay for being a bit of an awkward loser (your own words, not his, of course.)

“I’d love to come in,” he says, all smiles. “But first, I have something for you.” He pulls whatever he’s been hiding out from behind his back and offers it to you between your chest and his. “To say I’m sorry about your top.”

You blink. It’s a bouquet. It’s the bouquet. The one you’d helped him put together. The one that has all your favourite flowers and colours and smells because despite you thinking it was for someone else, you’d still wanted the best for James. You blink again.

“James,” you say, a little breathless, a lot speechless. “They’re for me?”

James laughs and you feel dizzy for a moment. He’s got a really nice laugh. “F’course there for you, sweetheart. Who else?”

He makes you take them from him, one of his hands guiding yours around the stalks. His skin is warm and sets yours on fire. You’re surprised the bouquet doesn’t go up in flames when you take it from him.

“I-I don’t know,” you stutter. “I thought …” you don’t finish your sentence. You’d thought they were for some other girl who’d caught his eye. You change tactics mid sentence, “They’re lovely, James.”

“I know they are, dove. You picked ‘em out.”

You giggle then. He’s the sweetest boy on the planet, you decide. He let you pick out your own flowers, and you didn’t even know it. You’ve never properly been given flowers before, despite working at a florist’s. It’s a new feeling. Like a star burning in your chest that doesn’t seem to want to go out. It hovers in you ribcage and stays there, buzzing madly.

“Thank you,” you say, lifting your eyes to his. You find he’s already gazing right back at you. There’s a rogue curl falling over his forehead that you’d love to push out of the way. “Really. I love them.”

James flashes you a boyish grin. “Good, ‘cos if you didn’t, I’d have to have a word with the girl who chose them.”

You’re still beaming when he comes inside. He follows you into the kitchen, where you find a vase for the flowers. You set about taking them out of their packaging, cutting the stalks and putting them gently in the glass vase filled with water.

James watches you and you can tell he’s trying to be nonchalant about it all, about being in your space, but his eyes scan your kitchen like it’s a map he’s trying to figure out. Your mismatched mugs on the counter. Your magnets and Polaroids and receipts on the fridge. Your overgrown plants on the windowsill.

You carry your flowers to your small living room and put them in the dead center of your coffee table. The bouquet is so big it would block most of your view of the TV if you sat on the couch. You hardly care. You’d rather look at them than the TV, anyway.

Setting the flowers down, you spot your half eaten mac and cheese and hope James doesn’t take you for a slob. You’re lucky he didn’t catch you on a Friday night. You’d be drowning in ice cream, probably.

“Are you hungry?” You ask him, half hoping he’ll say no, because who in their right mind asks their crush if they want macaroni and cheese? It’s so lame, but you can’t take it back now. “I have mac and cheese, but that’s about it, sorry.”

You cringe and wish you’d held your tongue, but James beams.

“I’d love some mac n’ cheese,” he says. “Unless it’s boxed, that shit tastes like cardboard.”

You get him some mac and cheese, glad you made it yourself, gladder you haven’t resorted to boxed food just yet. The two of you sit in the kitchen on your tall kitchen stools under your golden lights and eat. James is easier to be around than anyone you’ve ever met. He makes you feel special but not to the point where it’s too overwhelming. He’s kind and he’s golden, he acts like you’re the only person he ever wants to talk to.

Watching him eat in your home is more of a pleasure for you than you’d like to admit. He compliments your cooking. He says he likes the bowl he’s got, which is a white one with pink flowers all over it that you bought at a market ages ago. He gets a string of cheese dangling from his lip and makes a dorky face trying to get it into his mouth without using his fingers. You think you’d like to kiss him. His lips all puckered and eyes crossed as he attempts to scoop the cheese into his waiting mouth.

You’re so busy laughing at him that you don’t notice your own bowl balancing precariously on the edge of the counter. When you go back to take another spoonful, your hand knocks the bowl and it goes tumbling. Right into your lap.

“Shit,” you curse, gasping when a dollop of hot pasta lands half on your thigh and half on your shorts. The sauce spreads like wildfire over the fabric of your sleep shorts. Why do things keep spilling on your clothes when James is around? It’s becoming a theme. Your horror grows when the bowl clatters to the floor and while it doesn’t smash, it spills mac & cheese everywhere. “Oh, shit, that’s embarrassing. Um.”

You bend to clean up your mess but James beats you to it.

“Here, let me,” he says. He slides off his chair and is quick to start scooping up the ruined pasta.

“Sorry,” you stutter, standing helplessly as James cleans up your mess for you.

“Don’t be,” James shrugs and looks up at you, his cheeks dimpling as he smiles kindly. “Go change, I’ll sort this out.”

You feel an overwhelming rush of gratitude and affection for him that makes you want to kiss him stupid. You don’t. Instead you go down to your room and find something to change into. Seeing as he’s already seen you in your sleep shorts, you suppose your checkered flannel pyjama pants aren’t really much worse. Nothing can be more embarrassing than what’s just happened, you decide.

By the time you’ve changed (plus spent a lot of extra time staring at yourself in the mirror, practicing your smile), James has cleaned up the spill and is washing your bowls in the sink. You decide then and there that you like him a lot more than you’d initially thought.

You emerge into the kitchen on light footing. You feel like a magnet being drawn to him like this. It’s bizzare, how much you want to be around him, no matter how shy he makes you. It’s something you’ve never experienced before. A rip in the ocean calling your name. You know of the danger but you don’t really care. You ignore the signs because he’s James and you don’t think he has a mean bone in his body. The warning signs basically don’t exist.

“Thank you, James,” you say, standing on the threshold of the kitchen.

James flashes you a big smile, up to his arms in soap and suds, scrubbing away at a bowl. He looks like a house husband. It’s almost more than your heart can take. “That’s okay. Hey, nice pyjamas. Y’look good.”

You can tell by his tone he’s not teasing. He’s being genuine, which is somehow worse than if he’d been teasing. Your smile is so big it hurts.

-

James is gonna kiss you tonight. He’s sure of it.

So far, all of his advances have gone well. Perfect, even. Unless you count the drink-spilling incident, but if it hadn’t been for that he’d probably never have found the courage to get you alone again.

He’s taken you out to lunch once. He’s been into your work twice, not including the first time. He’s invited you to his rugby game tonight, to which you’d said yes more enthusiastically than he’d expected. It’s not exactly a date, per say. But he’d wanted to see you today and he had a game and his coach would blow his head off if he’d missed it for a girl. No matter how lovely said girl is.

He’s waxed poetic about you to Sirius and Remus more times than he can count. He’s yet to kiss you. Sirius thinks this is beyond absurd.

“So you haven’t even kissed her yet?” He asks, incredulous. He’s in his rugby kit, hair up in braids, chugging a Gatorade though the game hasn’t even started yet. “What’s the hold up, mate?”

James groans. Sirius is yet to understand that some people don’t like to jump into the deep end before they’re ready. “I don’t want to scare her off,” he explains, straightening up from where he’d been tying his laces.

“Oh yeah, you’re reaaally scary, Prongsie,” Sirius drawls, dripping in sarcasm. He rolls his eyes and then clasps James’ shoulder. He’s surprisingly and uncharacteristically genuine when he says, “Look, I think she likes you enough that kissing her won’t scare her off.”

James blinks and looks up at his friend. “You think she likes me?”

Sirius makes a face. “Are you kidding? What other girl would want to watch you eat shit in a field with a dozen other sweaty guys?”

And he’s back, James thinks. Trust Sirius to be a sweetheart one second and as asshole the next.

Soon enough James is out on the field and he wants to say his mind is on the game and not you but he’d be lying.

For the first five minutes he’s distracted trying to spot you in the stands. Then the next ten minutes are spent trying not to stare at you. You’re with Remus, whom James is hoping isn’t relaying anything he’s ever said to him about you.

You look as though, to James’ extreme delight, that you’ve dressed up for this. In a pretty dress and a jacket that borders on being so big on you it swallows you up. Sure, you’d still looked pretty drop-dead in your pyjamas the other night. But this is another level of gorgeous.

The first chance he gets he bounds over to you, ignoring his coaches instructions to ‘stay with the team’. Most of the team has scattered for half time, anyway. James makes a beeline for you.

“You came!” He shouts as soon as you’re in shouting distance.

You grin and wave at him, brilliant and dazzling and so damn pretty in the early evening sun. You’re not far up the stadium and James is grateful he doesn’t have to climb too many steps — though he’d definitely climb all the way to the top row to see you if he had to.

“Hi, James,” you say, looking happy as a clam to see him.

James beams back. He wonders vaguely if he looks as lovesick as he’s feeling. He can’t even bring himself to care if he does. He’s lucky Remus is nowhere to be seen — probably loving on Sirius somewhere.

“Hi, angel,” James says, smiling around his words, which come out all sticky-sounding and fond. “I’m so glad you came.”

You beam and rock on your heels, looking one part shy and two parts delighted, your hands clasped in front of you like you’re not sure what to do now.

“Can I give you a hug?” James asks. “I’m so happy to see you, I might explode if you say no.”

He’s joking, of course. Or maybe not so much. You nod, a tad vehement, James notices smugly.

“Yes, please,” you say, breathless.

James steps into your space, heartbeat a mile a minute. You smell like flowers again. Lavender, he thinks. He definitely doesn’t smell anywhere near as good. “You’re sure I’m not too sweaty and gross?”

You shrug. “I don’t care, James.”

“You should. You look lovely.”

You make a noise that sounds half pained and half pleased and it makes James’ heart skyrocket.

“Can you just hug me?” You ask, a hint of desperation in your tone that’s actually much more than a hint but James is trying to be a gentleman. “Please?”

James thinks if you keep this up (by this, he means, acting as though maybe you like him as much as he likes you), he’ll die on the spot. He hugs you. For his own and your sake. Wraps you up in a big strong hug that’s so passionate he accidentally lifts you off the ground slightly. You don’t seem to mind. Your arms weave around his neck like they were meant to and you hook your chin over his shoulder and go all melty.

James almost moans. He can’t believe how perfectly you fit in his arms. How your body melds into his so nicely. He’s big and firm and loud and you’re quiet and small in your own way. But it works, and James is so glad it does.

“How was work, lovely?” He says into your hair. Your hair, which smells like coconut and something sweeter.

“It was okay.” Your voice is quiet but you sound just as pleased as he does to be wrapped in each other’s arms. “Lily says good luck.”

“Hey!” This is Sirius, jogging towards the stands and the, for want of a better word, lovefest. “Why don’t I ever get hugs like that?”

James releases you but keeps a good hold on your waist, twisting to meet Sirius. “What? You want one too, Pads?”

He lets go of you and holds his arms out for a hug, half joking but also half serious.

“Not from you!” Sirius scoffs, backing away from James like his hug will give him an incurable disease. “From your pretty cheerleader over there.”

Sirius plants his hands in his hips and nods his head towards you where you’re standing behind James. James doesn’t need to look to know Sirius has probably made you embarrassed.

“She doesn’t want to hug you,” he says dryly, in an attempt to save you from his obnoxious friend. “Where’s your boyfriend? You can hug him instead.”

Sirius scowls but it doesn’t last long. You brush past James and it takes him a second to realise what’s happening.

“I’ll hug you, Sirius,” you’re saying sweetly. “C’mere.”

And to everyone’s surprise, you hug Sirius. James finds it both endearing and highly annoying. Annoying because Sirius is smirking at him over your shoulder, his hands on your lower back. Endearing because it’s apparent you’re trying to make friends with James’ friends and he couldn’t be happier. The hug doesn’t last quite as long as yours and his, though. And Sirius doesn’t quite lift you off the ground like James did.

James watches, reluctantly fond, as Sirius pulls away and smiles at you all kind and un-Sirius-like.

“Thank you, m’lovely,” he says, swooping down to kiss your cheek. James shouldn’t feel jealous, because Sirius kisses everyone on the cheek, but he does anyway.

His jealousy quickly fades when you practically skip back over to him, all smiles.

“Sorry about him,” James says quickly. He’s very used to apologising for his friends.

“No, that’s okay,” you shake your head and then take James’ forearm in your hand unthinkingly. Heat licks all up James’ arm.

“Y/N,” he says, sounding more confident than he feels. “Do you—?”

The shriek of his coach’s whistle cuts him off. Time to get back on the field, it says. James groans, long suffering, throwing his head back like he’s been resigned to the worst fate in the world. You giggle and it makes it all better.

James’ team loses the game. It’s embarrassing and then it’s not, because you bound up to him afterwards and give him a hug even better than the one at half time, gushing about how good he was, telling him it doesn’t matter that he lost because he played amazing, anyway.

He sure feels like a winner as he walks with you to the parking lot, his duffel bag swept to his wrong side so he can walk as close to you as possible.

“I didn’t know you were so good.” You’re still gushing and James thinks he’s never blushed more in his life. “I mean, not that I didn’t expect it. You just never told me.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not Sirius,” James murmurs, feeling overly feverish.

“What? What’s that mean?”

James gestures vaguely with his hands. “I don’t go around bragging, is what it means. And I’m not that good. We’re just a local team, babe.”

It’s your turn to flush. Head to foot you go all shy. He thinks it’s the pet name that did it. And maybe the fact that he’s pointed out your gushing.

“Right,” you say to your shoes. “Well, I think you should play for the country, is all I’m saying.”

James laughs, delighted and a bit startled at your joking, but mostly just sick as a dog in love with you. “Really? Wow, you should tell my coach that, sweetheart. I think he’d totally agree.”

You pick up on his sarcasm and burst into giggles that make James’ chest want to explode. He realizes you’ve almost reached his car and puts his plan into action.

“Hey, did you drive here?” He asks.

You look up at him and James thinks he sees an inkling of hope in your pretty eyes. “No, I caught the bus. Why?”

“Did you want to go get Slurpees with me? I saw a 7/11 near your place the other night.” Then, because he really wants you to say yes, “I’m paying.”

Maybe it’s James’ wishful thinking but he’s pretty sure you light up like a Christmas tree. He really thinks if you keep doing things like this his head is gonna get too big for his body. You beam, looking like an angel on earth in the last fragments of sunlight, skin painted in an array of bleeding golds and pinks and oranges.

“Yeah, okay,” you nod. “Except you don’t have to pay for me, James, I have my card.”

James shakes his head, grinning as he fishes his keys from his bag. “Nah, don’t worry. Pretty girls get slurpees for free.”

He’s ninety-eight percent sure you freeze up like a block of ice as he unlocks his car. He has the generosity to not mention it.

The drive to the 7/11 closest to your place is quiet. But good quiet. James puts on the radio and is delighted when you start humming along like he’s not even there, your fingers tapping along the window where you’ve rolled it down, the wind brushing over your pretty face. He can’t quite get enough of you. Even just driving in silence with you feels like cloud nine. He’s enamored. Totally lovelorn. He’s surprised he can even drive straight.

When you get there he parks the car and then tells you to wait so he can open your door for you. He holds your hand to guide you into the 7/11. It feels like walking on air.

You both greet the guy at the cashier, you much more shyly, but James is learning you’re nothing if not polite. It’s practically empty inside, which James is glad for. How is he supposed to kiss you if there’s a bunch of strangers around? He leads you over to the slurpee machine with the excitement of a kid in a candy store.

“What flavour do you feel like?” He asks, grabbing a cup for you.

“Um,” you lick your lips and James wonders, not for the first time, how it would be to kiss them. “Grape, I think.”

“Grape?” He wrinkles his nose in pretense. “I’m more of a cherry guy, but I’ll let it slide ‘cos I like you.”

You giggle and flush, to James' extreme delight. He lets go of your hand to fill your cup for you, all the way to the top. He pops on a lid and a straw and passes it to you, cold condensation dripping over his fingers like raindrops.

“Thank you,” you say softly, taking the cup from him, your fingers soft as they brush his.

James gives you a big smile in place of a you’re welcome, then preoccupies himself with filling his own cup. He can feel your eyes on him all the while. Practically burning holes into the side of his face. His face, which feels like it’s on fire. He finishes filling his cup and shoves a lid on.

“Have I got something on my face?” He asks without looking at you, definitely teasing but he thinks you can take it.

You groan and punch him in the arm. Punch isn’t really the right word. It’s more of a brush of your knuckles. James hardly feels a thing. “James.”

James laughs, delighted at your reaction. “What?” He chuckles, picking a straw and turning to look at you. “You were—“

But you’re gone, turning into the candy section just in time for James to see the back of your jacket disappear. He follows you, grinning like mad.

“Y/N,” he says, sing-song.

“James,” you copy, with half the enthusiasm but twice the sweetness. He can almost hear you rolling your eyes.

James can’t help it, he snags your jacket in his fingers and pulls. You squeal as he twists you to face him, his hand coming to hook around your waist. Your slurpees get crushed in between your chests. James can feel the coldness of his soaking into his shirt but he hardly cares. You’re so close he could kiss you. He’d like to. It’s what he’s been trying to do all evening.

You’re gasping, breathless from the closeness and his sudden attack. “James,” you say again, panting. “What are you doing?”

James shrugs. “Nuthin’. Did you want some candy?”

You swallow and adjust your grip on your cup where it’s pressed to his chest. You’re staring at his lips. He’s staring at yours, too.

“No,” you say, your pretty eyes flickering from his eyes to his mouth and back again. “I don’t want candy.”

James licks his lips, partly because he thinks he’s about to kiss you, but mostly to tease you. “Then what do you want?”

Your eyes follow the slow movement of his tongue. “Um.”

“Do you want me to kiss you?” He asks, softer now. Less taunting. More sincere.

You stare at him. “We’re in the middle of a 7/11, James,” you chastise. But you don’t turn him down.

“So? There’s no one in here but us.”

He inches closer. His slurpee is probably spilling over with how much he’s squashing it but he can’t bring himself to check. He’s too transfixed by you, the hopeful look on your pretty features, eyes blown wide, lips slightly parted.

“Okay,” you breathe, hardly a word at all.

“Okay, what?” James says back, just as quiet. “I can kiss you?”

“Yes,” you nod once. Your hand ghosts over James’ elbow and he hopes you’ll grab it when he does finally kiss you. “Please.”

It doesn’t take much more convincing than that. He kisses you, and the very first thing he thinks is that he’s bitten off more than he can chew. Thrown himself in the deep end, chum for the sharks. Because it’s glorious. It’s better than he ever imagined, better than anything he could’ve conjured up in his mind. You taste like grape slurpee, sugary and sweet. You’re tentative like you always are, but it doesn’t mean you hold back. You let him kiss you as hard as he pleases, tilting your head up to meet him, gripping his elbow with your free hand like you never want to let go.

He kisses you firm but careful, passionate so you know how much he likes you but soft enough so you know he’s okay to go slow if you need to.

Soon enough the moment is ruined — James shouldn’t have expected anything less. The guy at the cashier is wondering aloud if James is planning on ever paying for the Slurpees now dripping condensation into both of your clothes and hands.

James sighs and goes to pull out his wallet, but not before pressing another kiss to your smiling mouth.

-

feedback and reblogs are very very appreciated! please please lmk if u liked it (but not if u didn’t ahahah) xx

[evergone]

The Agreement

James Potter x Reader

Warnings: 18+, sex, alcohol, smoking

Description: James and the reader lay out the rules to be FwB, but the reader has already broken one.

It was James who had come up with the idea to make the agreement. You’d only accepted and helped to draft the terms. I mean, of course you had, it was James, how could you say no to him? Plus, you were a little more than tipsy and the fumes that you had been second-hand smoking from Sirius’ cigarette wasn’t assisting in keeping you soberly grounded. That being said, you probably still would have agreed to the terms if you were sober.

That was problem everyone found with James. All he had to do was give you his signature look — the one that spoke more than words could convey, the one that held out a metaphorical hand and beckoned you towards adventure, the one that wouldn’t allow itself to be ignored — and suddenly, you were saying yes to his every whim. His friends were the most common victims of that look, Sirius, Remus, and Peter were always whisked away into trouble with him, but you were one of those victims, too.

At first, James hadn’t wanted to go to the party with the rest of the group. He was nervous about being amongst such a large group of muggles while drunk, knowing his own tendency to show off with that wand of his. But when he saw you twirling on the street from the upstairs window of Lily’s home he reconsidered.

“Surely you’re coming, James!” You called from the ground, your hand a shield covering your eyes and hair from the cool afternoon wind.

“I’m too immature for it, Y/n,” he shook his head, “It’s best if I stay.”

“Oh, shut up and get on down here!”

He laughed heartily and disappeared into the house only to return at the front door. You squealed in delight and pulled him into a hug, dragging him into the large group that had gathered outside. Lily’s sister, Petunia, had reluctantly decided to allow you all to go to the party that only she was invited to, and stood off to the left with her hands in her jacket pockets and her arms glued to her sides.

“Can we go now?” Petunia more demanded than asked, “We’re already a half hour late.”

When, finally, you arrived at the party, you were into the alcohol in moments. Sirius had run off to mingle with muggles about the music, asking every person he could find for recommendations and such, and Marlene had joined him, interested in muggle culture. From afar, you felt that they sounded like tourists from another country, you even heard some people asking where they were from. Mary, Lily and Dorcas were doing shots with some muggle boys, while Peter was demolishing Remus at beer pong.

In the joy of it all, of the fraternising with these unfamiliar people, you had lost James. Everyone was wearing such similar outfits that you couldn’t find his hideous denim jacket in the crowd, so you slipped out the back door and searched as you stood cluelessly by the edge of the pool.

“Lost, are you?” James’ deep voice sounded from behind you, spooking you into spinning around to look at him.

“I was looking for you,” you informed him, “Wanted to talk to someone I knew, but the others are all busy.”

“Well, here I am, doey,” he smiled, gesturing to himself.

“Don’t call me that, you fool,” you rolled your eyes and he chuckled.

He led you away from the crowd and onto the roof of the unknown host’s house where you continued to chat softly, watching the stars twinkle in the great expanse like the tuffs of a dandelion clock stuck to black paint on canvas. You had no clue where he kept pulling drinks from, but for the rest of the night your hand was never without the comforting hug of a beer.

The lot of you had stumbled home together with laughter that echoed through the streets. Somehow, Sirius had gotten his filthy hands on that cigarette I mentioned earlier, and was treating it like his only lifeline, desperately trying to get every breath out of it that he could. Your arm was slung over James’ shoulders as you whispered flirtatious secrets to him:

“You smell absolutely fantastic.”

“You fancy the scent of Peter’s vomit?”

And, in return, his hand graced your hip. His fingers too close to be friendly like they were supposed to be, his heart too close, as well. He stared at you with his beautiful brown eyes that shone a brilliant gold in the light of the street lamps and the shine of the waning gibbous moon.

Back at Lily’s in the dead of night, James claimed one of the spare bedrooms all to himself, arguing that he deserved it after Peter spewed his guts up all over him. At first, you had shuffled into Lily’s bedroom to change into your shorts and a Fleetwood Mac shirt that you found stuffed into the bottom of your suitcase. As you slipped into bed next to Marlene, you were drawn out into the hallway in which you caught James making the exact same movement.

You waved at him. He waved back. Both of you exchanged quiet greetings before he nodded backwards towards the room he was in and bit his lip.

“It’s cold in there,” he said, “All alone…”

You shrugged, “And what do you expect me to do about that?”

“I could think of a few ideas,” he teased and you shook your head.

“We shouldn’t,” you said, altogether unconvinced by your own words, “This is Lily’s house.”

It wasn’t like there had ever been something between James and yourself before. You were always just friends, that’s how it was and how it would always continue to be. That’s why you made the agreement — but not until after you had warmed him up and kept him warm until morning.

Once you awoke, he helped you tie your hair back into a ponytail and smiled at the work of art his mouth had made on your back. You, on the other hand, were appalled by the sight of it in the mirror and unleashed a full-blown pillow attack on him, giggling goofily. The two of you showered together in the en suite, his large, calloused hands drew the soap along the curves of your body expertly. You dried his hair slowly and gently as you pressed your breasts onto his bare back.

“If we do this again, we need to make an agreement,” he told you, his head resting between your naked thighs on the bed, “A—A set of rules of some kind.”

You didn’t want an ‘agreement’ but the effects of alcohol still lingered in your mind, so you said yes and let him lay out the framework. You added your two cents every now and again.

“Never while high on anything other than weed,” he said.

“Never in the same room as someone else,” you said.

“We have to tell each other if we do it with someone else.”

“Or if we go on a date with someone else.”

“And most importantly,” James begun, “Absolutely no falling in love, alright doey?”

Your lips pursed. Oh. Oh. Oh, fuck. You were screwed, you couldn’t possibly agree to that term. By Merlin, you were already in love with him! How could you not be? He was everything you could want in a man: stunning good looks, intelligent mind, charming personality. He was perfect and you were in love with him.

“Absolutely.”

After a couple months of suffering through a friends-with-benefits situation with James, the agreement was coming back to bite you in the arse. Your friends could see it in every movement you made around him. Remus had caught you crying in the common room more times than he could count, and Lily couldn’t bare to hear another story about you giving him a blow job just so he wouldn’t end the agreement that was plaguing your every waking hour. It wasn’t his fault, you had to remind them, you just weren’t able to confront him with the truth about your feelings yet.

“I’ll tell him, I promise,” you told them.

“When, Y/n?” Lily asked skeptically.

“Eventually!” You whined, “When I’m ready!”

“And when will that be?” Remus raised his brows at you.

You groaned and fell back into the maroon couch in the common room in front of the empty fireplace. They were so pushy. They were the worst. You would get there at some point, they just needed to give you a little more time. You needed a little more time.

When James entered the common room that afternoon, he had nodded up the stairs towards his dorm at the sight of Remus, Sirius, and Peter all sitting around. It was one of the very few moments that none of them were up there, and you had to capitalise on those moments as best you could. You stood up obediently like a puppy and ignored the judgemental glances from your friends as you followed him up the stairs.

As he shrugged off his robes, he turned to you, “This might be our last go at it.”

“What do you mean?” You asked him curiously and stripped off your pants.

“I have a date,” he responded.

Oh. Well, that was one way for you to get out of admitting your feelings for him. Probably the worst way, but a way nonetheless. Perhaps, your heart would be broken, but at least James would never know that you had broken the agreement before it had even been agreed upon.

“Jamie,” you started, “I don’t think you should go on a date.”

He turned to you, head tilted to the side, one eyebrow perked in a mixture of confusion and curiosity. You couldn’t help yourself, it seemed. You couldn’t let him leave you behind.

“I broke the agreement ages ago,” you admitted and he frowned, “From the start, I was in love with you and I’m sorry for lying but I just thought that—”

“I knew it.”

“Huh?”

“I overheard you talking to Lily about it.” His gaze softened as he grinned at you, “You should have told me, I would have asked you out instead of making the agreement, I thought that was my only option.”

[cosmal]

✪ — *94 from the prompts list with any of the marauders you see fit lolzies 🫶

i'll hold it

summary — james gets you in his lap when there's no seats.

content — james potter x fem!afab!reader, drunk!james

You can't find your friends anywhere. The local you're at is packed, everyone squashed in like sardines to watch the footy finals. You despise Sirius for convincing you to come. But not as much so when you spot James across the beer garden.

He spots you at the same time and shoots his hand up in the air, giving you a wave. You try to hide your smile in your scarf and fail miserably.

You push through a group of people and reach their table. "Hello," you smile.

You push your thighs into the edge of the table and try to avoid the rings of sticky drink on the wood. "Hello," James beams and you melt like the ice in his glass. He's been drinking vodka and squash by the looks of it.

"Y/N!' Sirius calls from the end of their table as you expected. You look to Emmeline for refuge and she smacks him in the arm. "Hello, lovely! Please, save me, James won't shut up about you."

James tries to hide his embarrassment in his empty glass. This time, Frank smacks him to keep him quiet. You giggle and it has James relaxing.

"Sorry, I'm late," you say to everyone. Sirius seems too preoccupied in Remus's side already for you to feel too guilty. "Bus strikes."

You didn't think you were too late, but by the looks of Lily's flushed cheeks and how many empty glasses don their table, you think they've been at it for a while.

It's only now you realise there's no room at their table. The bench and the seats are all taken up. You feel awkward suddenly and decide to go find an empty chair, no matter how impossible that seems.

James grabs your wrist and you startle. He's pouting when you turn back around. "Where ya goin'?" he asks. He seems drunker than you thought when he blinks slowly. Eyelashes touch his cheeks when his eyes droop for a second.

"To find another chair," you tell him, smiling. You want to melt with the way he's looking at you.

He lets go of your wrist and scoots back in his seat, tapping his thighs. It's more of a smack where his thighs strain against the denim of his jeans. "No offence, lovely," he says, smiling like he can't help it. "But I think you should sit in my lap.''

"James," you giggle. You turn serious when you think he's not kidding around. "You don't want me to do that, I'll squash you."

James scoffs indignantly and you think you catch him rolling his eyes. Before you can even think about moving off again, he's got his hands at your waist. He tugs you down until you're landing in his lap and your feet are dangling from the ground. He's big, firm, and you think you don't have a single problem with being manhandled like this.

You have a thought, it's so quick but it's still there, but you think he'd be able to throw you around. You shake it from your head before you think you might pass out and focus on how he feels beneath you. His fucking thighs.

"James," you sigh, keeping your hands on his shoulders. "James, c'mon, be serious. You'll get uncomfortable in no time."

"Will not," he hiccups and you realise he's still got his hands spread over your hips. Where he bunches your skirt until it rides up your thighs and shows the ladder in your tights you were trying to hide.

"Yes, you will."

He sits his chin on your shoulder. He's so close that you shiver when he speaks. "I'm gonna prove you so wrong, babe."

Babe. "What if you need to pee?"

"I'll hold it."

"You've been drinking."

James brightens up a bit, looking half-offended. "You think because I'm drunk, that I'm incontinent?"

"Hey, Prongs!" Sirius calls out for James and he rolls his eyes again. "Hey- remember that one time after you got smashed at The Yorkey's?!"

"Shut up!"

"Yeah- yeah when you-"

"Stop fucking talking!''

He flushes with embarrassment. Smothering a groan in your shoulder. You cage your hands over his head and tug at his curls. "Oh, my poor baby," you sigh, half giggling. James shivers.

"Please don't listen to him," he groans and sits back up. He's still just as flustered. You mourn the loss of his curls under your fingers terribly.

"I never do," you tell him.

He takes a breath. "Good."

After a moment, you allow him to relax a little. You turn around to push his glasses up his nose after your shoulder had nudged them to sit crookedly. He'd been too embarrassed to fix them, clearly.

You lean in and say, "Were you really so drunk you wet yourself?"

"What!?" James gawps, sitting up so straight he almost knocks Alice behind him. "No, Y/N! I wasn't."

You do spend the entire night in his lap. He also spends the entire night hiding in your shoulder.

[cantstops1mping]

Thinking about James being a big bear boyfriend; being very touchy, always wanting to hug you. Hugging you from behind whenever he sees you around the campus. Always greeting you with a hug and a whole lot of kisses. (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)

© cantstops1mping 2024; please do not copy, steal, repost, modify, translate, or recommend on any other platform without giving me credit or without my permission!

[remusluvr]

heart to heart | james potter

summary: James is your safe haven, he accepts you with open arms. content: secret relationship, brief talk of death (like one sentence), unedited

Time had frozen when you were told. This was the one thing you had been trying to avoid for as long as possible. It's unavoidable now.

"It's time you step up and do something for once," your mother berated, "There's a meeting in an hour. You will be expected to make your decision then. Do not embarrass me."

Fear flowed through your veins after she left the room. There was only one way out of this messy situation - your bedroom window. And so, knowing exactly who to go to, you quickly packed a bag and left. You ran as far as you could before apparating to Diagon Alley where you would be able to find a floo transport to get to your destination.

Your fist pounded against the old door as you looked behind you as each second ticked along. What if they knew where you were going? What if it was a trap to see what you would do? What if they are after you? Raising your fist to knock again, the door opens to a confused James Potter.

"Jamie," you sighed, tears welling in your eyes now as you push yourself into his arms. You can feel his beating heart as he pulls you into his house. He kept you held to his chest as you calmed your breathing. You were safe.

"Can you tell me what happened, sweetheart?" he asked, taking extra attention to make sure his voice was calm. He didn't want to scare you. Sirius came trotting down the stairs, watching the interaction between you and the other Gryffindor boy.

"What the fuck? When did this start?" is all he says as he stops at the end of the staircase. James waves him off, turning his attention back to you. His eyes held so much love that you just wish you'd never have to interrupt your staring with such a heavy topic.

"They tried to make me become a death eater," you sniffled, lip wobbling. He pulled you back into his chest, holding you tight against him. Sirius gasped, excusing himself. He can get whatever answers he's looking for later. Right now you clearly need James to yourself. "I can't go back there, Jamie. I can't."

"You won't, baby. I'm not going to let you."

Your heart is racing when you pull away, wiping at your tear-stained cheeks. He doesn't let you go far, keeping your hand in his. When his mom comes into the room, you straighten up and quiet down.

"I know Sirius is listening at the top of the stairs. He can show you my room, let me talk with my mom." You hear Sirius grunt and can't help but giggle, hugging James one last time before grabbing your bag and heading upstairs. You and Sirius have never gotten along, not when you have been living very precariously, trying not to anger your family. He went the different route, going out of his way to anger them.

He gives you a half-hearted smile when you reach him and you want to apologize for all the mean remarks you spit his way. You both understand though, you were in the same situation.

When James returns to his room, around thirty minutes later, he crashes down on the bed beside you, kicking Sirius out. He had stayed to keep you company, still a little too nervous to be left alone.

"I'm sorry for barging in. I just had nowhere else to go."

"Please don't apologize, I'm glad you're here. You know that I worry when you're home. Now, I don't have to worry."

"Yeah, until we're back in school and all of my housemates want me dead." He frowns at that. James is always optimistic but he knows that you're right. They're not going to take your denouncement of Voldemort well and there will be consequences but he promises to never leave your side and that you can sleep in his dorm all you want if that's what it takes.

His kindness makes your heart ache and at the news of you being allowed to stay here, it only aches more for his family. Why couldn't your own family be this way?

"Only thing is that you have to sleep in one of the guest rooms," he sighs, rolling his eyes. You giggle as he pulls you to lay with him. "Good thing we can be sneaky."

[fookingmuffins]

You belong with me

James potter x reader

Fluff ig?

Warnings: drinking, cursing, jealousy?

Summary: James getting Jealous while drunk and being a drama queen about it. Based on this thing I posted and ig just had to make it myself.

"Y/n you've got to see this!" Lily pulled you with her out of the crowded Gryffindor common room. You had been celebrating a random 6th year's birthday, although, in all honesty, everyone at the party just wanted to get drunk for free. Lily pulled you outside, and you could hear music faintly playing in the distance.

"Come on, this way!" Now curious, you started running faster with Lily to the source of the music, which happens to be by the training grounds. The closer you got, the more you could hear Taylor Swift's voice breaking the peaceful atmosphere of the starry night sky. You were shocked that anyone would listen to Taylor, with her being a muggle and most muggles at Hogwarts rejecting muggle culture in general in favor of blending in.

As you got closer, you could hear another voice screaming loudly along with the song. The off-key wails you immediately recognized as James, and you immediately got why Lily was so adamant about you seeing the scene in front of you.

James was completely wasted with a bottle of beer in his hand, using it as a microphone to scream along to the lyrics of You Belong with Me. Sirius was dancing along completely off Beat and Peter was laying down, nodding along. When Remus saw you he went to stand up next to you also drunk but extremely embarrassed about his friend's antics.

"Why can't you see you belong with me!"

"Y/n please stop this, he has been playing this song on a loop like 4 times" You laughed at the information provided by Remus.

"James! What the hell is this about?" You finally shouted, successfully getting the boy's attention. Upon seeing you, his face lit up, and he ran to you to hug you.

"Why were you talking to Amos?" He pouted, still not letting you go. Amos was a Gryffindor you shared transfiguration class with but had only interacted with a handful of times, so when James mentioned him you frowned.

"When?"

"Just now. At the party." He whined, squeezing you a bit.

You had no idea what he was going on about. You had been with your group of friends the whole party.

"James Fleamont Potter, you have to be fucking kidding me! Are you really jealous of a guy who asked me to excuse him, so he could grab his coat!" You pushed him away and started laughing, which only made him pout more.

"Baby, it's not funny!" He puffed, crossing his arms like a 5-year-old. By now Sirius and Remus had changed the song and were now both in their little world dancing away and Lily was talking to Peter on the ground.

"You're right I'm sorry but how about I make it up to you. We can get out of here and go cuddle in my dorm if you want." At your offer, James immediately perked up and nodded his head before basically sprinting with you back to the castle.

[luveline]

could I please request rugby! James & shy!reader where he kind of freaks out because he sees bruises on her like "are those BRUISES??!!" thank you very much

thank you for your request my sweetheart ♥︎ fem!reader

James is used to bruises. He's covered in them day and night, the purple along his shoulders of an aggressive ruck or the darker red of a new skim on his knees when he eats it. He's not too proud to say he slips often, trips more, and so bruises are like second nature. He'd be more shocked if he didn't have a bruise or two.

That's why, when you peel off your grey cardigan in the doorway of his living room, he almost doesn't notice the bruises all over your left arm. Almost.

"Shortcake, what the fuck happened?"

You startle at his urgency but don't flinch. You never have around him, and he's glad to put you at ease even when he's being his loud, enthusiastic self.

"This?" you ask, lifting your arm.

Of course he means that, but he's sickly sweet in love with you. So he says, "Yeah, that," as softly as he can.

"It's embarrassing."

You hide your arm behind your back. James assumes the gesture to be unthinking, the same as your shy smile, and your shifting from one foot to the other. He'd usher you over to sit in his lap if he thought you'd oblige him. Instead, he stands up and walks over to you, turning the light on to get a better look.

The bruises are plentiful but not especially stark.

"Can I look?"

"Yeah," you say, offering your wrist.

He lifts your arm and leans down to inspect. They aren't fingerprint bruises, too big, and they're weirdly straight. He's boggled.

"What did you do?" he asks, voice lightened by a confused bemusement. He's hiding all his over dramatic worry.

You wince, and then smile at him even before you ask, "Won't laugh, will you?"

"That depends, sweetheart, and you know it."

It's like you can't help yourself, a little smirk that rivals his own. He's over the moon to see it, his shy girl so comfortable with him that you don't mind the embarrassment. "I shut the door on it."

He'd been expecting to laugh. Honestly, he can't find it in him. He knows the bruises aren't bad, but it must've hurt in the moment.

Your wrist is soft under his thumb.

"Why didn't you ring me?" he asks, frowning at your lovely face. He tries to sound sincere rather than accusatory. "When'd you do this?"

"It's not that bad, Jamie."

"Did you cry when it happened?"

Your silence says enough. He pouts at your and wraps you up in a careful hug, skewed sideways so he can press his cheek to the top of your forehead. You go limp quick, always so melted by his affections. He falls that tiny bit further into love. And he'd thought he reached the bottom already.

"You gotta ring me," he says.

"I would've if it was broken."

"But I wanna know when it hurts," he insists. "How am I ever gonna kiss it better?"

You laugh outright at that. "Gonna kiss my owies?"

Teasing is a good look on you, but James' number one perogative is embarrassing you, and so he lifts your bruised arm to his mouth and dots light kisses over every inch of contusion. He can feel you getting flustered, your naked skin heating under his touch.

[ginevrapng]

the first time james saw you he lost interest in any other girl, you just looked so soft, so adorable. he wanted to keep you all to himself, away from prying eyes. before you he would tell people he doesn't have a type because before you he didn't, now though, well it's a different story, he just wants to wrap his arms around your plush waist and never let you go. he would gladly die between your thick thighs, buried between them.

one day you came into class and he figures that you must have run out of clothes to wear so you had to wear some of your old ones and that may have been one of the happiest days in his life. your shirt too tight and your skirt too short. he could see how the fabric and buttons of the shirt was struggling to stay covering your chest and your skirt short enough that james could see light stretch marks covering your skin, but also long enough to not cause a scene. no one else took notice of your attire that day, but james did. he couldn't help it, and he swears he tried to look away but he just couldn't, you're just so beautiful. he felt like a creep but he couldn't pay attention to anything else, he wanted to delicately trace your stretch marks with his fingertips. he wanted to do things that he'd never say out loud.

james wants to pull you down into his lap while he see's you making your way to your own table in the great hall. he wants to feel your body pressed against his and smell your sweet perfume. he knows you'd complain about being too heavy, he's overheard you mention it before, about how you think you're too heavy to get picked up or be on top of someone. james wants to impress you, to show you that he can, because of course he can pick you up and of course you're not too heavy for him, you're perfect the way you are and he's strong enough to lift anything and everything. he'd carry you with one hand all the way up a mountain if it would impress you and get you to notice him.

he wants to pinch your chubby cheeks and wants to kiss your forehead. he wants you.

his friends obviously notice this new attraction james has towards this girl but chosen not to mention, that is until he started to constantly bring you up and gushes to them about how perfect and cute you are. this getting very mixed reviews from his friends, lily having pity for you, aware of how he gets when he likes someone, sirius constantly teasing him about you, mary saying how nice you sounded, remus seemed mostly indifferent to the whole thing, marlene telling him to make a move. if james was honest he didn't take much notice of the teasing or the annoyance that they had because he kept bringing you up, he just needed to tell everyone about how amazing you are.

james knows how to pine after a girl and god does he do exactly that and he makes that very known to you. at first you were wary and skeptical of this sudden attention the famous gryffindor quidditch captain bestowed on you, he was one of the most popular students in hogwarts but after a while james broke down your walls with his charming smile and his acts of kindness, walking you to classes and pulling pranks on anyone who says nasty comments about you weight.

soon enough you end up in wrapped in red and gold on your way to support him in a match, his scarf keeping you warm from the harsh weather. after his win you end up running into his arms, congratulating him as he spins you around, you complain that he's sweaty, causing him to chuckle.

cupping your cheek, he lowers his voice and whispers to you, "you're my good luck charm, 'course i won." your face heats up and you shyly smile up at him. "what would i do without my good luck charm. you wanna be m' good luck charm always doll? wanna be mine?" he tucks some of your hair behind your ear, leaning in even closer, " 'cause i'm already yours. no one else for me doll." soon enough you accept to be his girlfriend, on the condition that he takes a shower straight away.

[remuslovebot]

𝑀𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 | 📜

☞ BIO

key

💋 - smut minors dni

𝐀𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐬 🎭

𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐨𝐛 𝐄𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐢 🧢

coming soon

𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐁𝐚𝐥𝐞 🎥

coming soon

𝐁𝐚𝐥𝐞!𝐁𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐞 𝐖𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞 🦇

playlist

you found me

wildest dreams

protector

𝐒𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐧 🛁

𝐅𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐱 𝐂𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐧

- aesthetic

dating felix catton headcannons

felix protecting you from oliver - 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭

felix distracts you from studying 💋 - 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭

christmas with felix headcannons - 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭

obsession

protective!felix at a party - 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭

felix confesses his love - 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭

felix plays guitar

grinding on felix’s thigh 💋 - 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭

fucking felix in the maze 💋

felix moaning your name 💋 - 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭

popular bf felix and loser gf reader - 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭

felix with reader’s praise kink 💋- 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭

losing your virginity to felix 💋 - 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭

felix being soft headcannon - 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭

oliver getting between you and felix - 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭

felix gets mad at reader - 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭

felix worships you 💋 - 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭

goodbye, goodbye, goodbye

felix loves your curly hair 💋 - 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭

forbidden moments

oliver tries to unalive you - 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭

𝐑𝐞𝐦𝐮𝐬 𝐋𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐧 🐺

• mine - 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭

• snap out of it - 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭

• party loving - 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭

• this one is for my girl - 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭

• new home - 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭

• Arabella

• you are not a monster - [ 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐯𝐚𝐮𝐥𝐭 ]

• sweater weather - [ 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐯𝐚𝐮𝐥𝐭]

• i need you - [ 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐯𝐚𝐮𝐥𝐭 ]

• dating remus headcannons - [ 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐯𝐚𝐮𝐥𝐭 ]

• just a kiss - [ 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐯𝐚𝐮𝐥𝐭 ]

• super freak - [ 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐯𝐚𝐮𝐥𝐭 ]

𝐉𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐏𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 🦌

• forever - [ 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐯𝐚𝐮𝐥𝐭 ]

• beautiful boy - [ 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐯𝐚𝐮𝐥𝐭 ]

• destiny - [ 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐯𝐚𝐮𝐥𝐭 ]

• james potter cuddling you - [ 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐯𝐚𝐮𝐥𝐭 ]

• laying his head on your lap - [ 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐯𝐚𝐮𝐥𝐭 ]

• kisses on cheeks - [ 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐯𝐚𝐮𝐥𝐭 ]

• marry me - [ 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐯𝐚𝐮𝐥𝐭 ]

• love language - [ 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐯𝐚𝐮𝐥𝐭 ]

• boys don’t cry - [ 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐯𝐚𝐮𝐥𝐭 ]

• the common room - [ 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐯𝐚𝐮𝐥𝐭 ]

• baking with jamie - [ 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐯𝐚𝐮𝐥𝐭 ]

• cheer up love - [ 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐯𝐚𝐮𝐥𝐭 ]

• watching tv with jamie- [ 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐯𝐚𝐮𝐥𝐭 ]

• the necklace - [ 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐯𝐚𝐮𝐥𝐭 ]

• jamie admiring you - [ 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐯𝐚𝐮𝐥𝐭 ]

• going to victoria secret - [ 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐯𝐚𝐮𝐥𝐭 ]

• study date with jamie- [ 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐯𝐚𝐮𝐥𝐭 ]

𝐒𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐮𝐬 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 🐾

• can’t take my eyes off you - 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭

PLS SEND REQUESTS 🫶🏻🥹

[0anonnymouslyours0]

Hii sweets! How are you? I was wondering id you could write a james potter x reader where he is obssesed with her and love physical touch

YES LITERALLY HAVE BEEN STALKING MY INBOX WAITING FOR SOMEONE TO REQUEST HIM OML

this ones just fluffy- nothing too intense ;)

james is clingy, no doubt about it. hes always near you, he has to be near you, and if hes not its a concern. he is always touching you in some way, holding your hand, having an arm wrapped around your shoulder or waist, or sitting so close to you, your practically on top of eachother.

and you love it.

right now, your sitting in the gryffindor common room with your friends, lounging by the fire. james somehow managed to get you to sit with him on a chair, which was clearly only meant for one person. your on his lap, and his hands are wrapped firmly around your waist, pulling you into his chest.

"wait, can you come look at this?" marlene asks, gesturing to her homework in front of her. shes laying down on the rug, mary next to her.

"yeah, of course marls-" you say, smiling as you shuffle to get off james lap.

"noooo." james whines, frowning and tugging you back into him.

"james, seriously?" you say, turning to look at him.

he pouts, and you smile softly at him.

"don't go?"

"i'm moving a few centimeters away, and then coming back."

james continues his pouting, and you giggle softly at his behavior.

"prongs is obsessed, we've lost him for good." sirius mutters from another couch.

"don't worry, still 'ave me." remus replies, looking up from his book at sirius.

a blush coats sirius cheeks, and mary giggles from the floor.

"oh! and me!" peter says, and remus nods in agreement.

"james, relinquish your girlfriend." marlene says sternly.

"she is mine." he says indignantly.

"so possessive.." you mutter, and james swats your at your arm as marlene laughs.

"am not!" he says, crossing his arms, in a way which makes him look younger.

"you very much are." marlene says.

"indeed." mary adds.

"obsessed." sirius says, a fake bitter tone to his voice.

"prongs is long gone, your right." remus says, nudging sirius.

[madwcman]

where to next?

a/n: my request are open for drabbels! please send in requests :)

pairing: james potter x reader

“where do you want to go to next?” you stop looking at the fishes above you, as you and james walk through the doomed tank hallways filled with different kinds of fish.

you hum and think of what you would like to see next in the aquarium, you’re not exactly rushing to see any of the animals. you’ve seen turtles, penguins and of course plenty of fish already. “i don’t really mind, what would you like to visit?” you ask james, moving slightly closer to his side.

“we could visit the jellyfish?” he tilts his head up towards the sign that reads different aquatic animal exhibits as you and james make your way to the end of the doomed hallway. “that’s perfect!” you smile walking faster to look at the jellyfish.

as you enter the exhibit you notice not many people are around, you walk up closer to the tank. you and james observe the different kinds of sea jellies in amazement.

you look at james, as he smiles. his eyes filled with wonder and excitement. “james, can i take your picture?” you ask him, softly smiling.

“yeah of course you can!” you smile and grab your phone out of your pocket, you quickly walk away from james, as james stays near the jelly tank; his skin turns slightly more blue as he faces you, he slightly tilts his head to the right, glasses slightly sliding off the bridge of his nose in the process. his lips turn into a bright crooked smile as he raises one of his arms to give you a thumbs up. you quickly take the picture of him smiling “i got it, do you want me to take another?” you ask, james shakes his head enthusiastically as he lifts his other arm giving you another thumbs up. you happily take his picture again.

[bruisedboys]

Knives out: ∗ 63﹕ sender  is  found  by  receiver  sleeping  in  receiver’s  bed . With James Potter

Congratulations on 3k, you deserve so much more though! Love you and your work! 🥰

thank you baby! love u endless amounts xx

summary: james finds you in his bed after rugby training

fem!reader 0.8k words

James gets home from rugby training and sees your shoes on his shoe rack. He blinks. Your black converse with the red hearts, sitting amongst his sneakers and dress shoes.

He grins. He’s happy you’ve let yourself in. Happy you’ve used the key he always urges you to use when you want to turn up unannounced. He just feels bad he wasn’t here to welcome you.

“Y/N?” He calls quietly. He doesn’t want to scare you though you’ve probably heard the front door open.

You don’t answer. He hears the gentle thrum of the dishwasher and follows it to the kitchen, hoping to find you there. It’s empty. And clean, he realises. Cleaner than he’d left it before training. All the mugs in their place, new fruit in the fruit bowl, his dishes from yesterday and this morning done and drip-drying on the bench.

He ventures into the living room and finds it just as empty but also just as clean. You’ve even put flowers on the coffee table.

The last place to check is his bedroom. He pushes the door open and feels like he’s been punched in the gut.

There you are. In his bed, on his side. Fast asleep, you’re lying on your stomach, one arm bent at the elbow and the other stretched out next to your face. The sheets bunch up around your lower back, your hair fanning out over his pillows. You look very comfortable.

James tries to be as quiet as possible as he puts down his bag near his dresser, and then tiptoes over the carpet so he can sit on the bed next to you. Up close you look even lovelier. Half of your face all squished into the pillow. Your lips parted as your breaths come deep and heavy. Your back rising and falling slowly. Eyelashes kissing the skin under your eyes.

He tries not to touch you, he really does. But you’re just so pretty, practically begging to be touched. It’s hardly his fault.

He drags his fingers over your cheek, down your jaw. Your skin is as soft as it looks. You smell like honey and lavender. Sweet. He’s about to lean over and kiss your cheek when you stir. Your mouth twitches and you heave a deep breath through your nose.

“S’that you, James?” You murmur. Your lips stretch into this soft smile that makes James’ heart hurt. He doesn’t feel so bad for waking you up as he should.

“Yeah, it’s me,” he says, cupping your jaw with his palm, his fingers planted behind your ear, roaming into your hair. “Sorry for waking you up, lovely.”

You blink yourself awake slowly. Your eyes appear and James feels a hundred times more lovesick than he already was. You roll onto your back, then look up at him and beam.

“Hi,” you say, your tone bright but your voice rough. You ignore his last comment. He’s pretty sure you don’t mind being woken up. Not when it’s by him.

“Hi, baby,” James says back, equally fond and twice as lively.

You sit up with an aching groan and James thinks he should move to make space for you but he doesn’t want to. He stays right where he is, and when you sit up your chest presses against his arm. You’re warm. You take the position to your advantage and hook your chin over his shoulder.

“I missed you,” you say, your lips right near the skin behind his ear. James can’t help the shiver that runs down his back as your lips graze over his skin. You smile like you know how much you affect him.

“I missed you more,” he says, argumentative. He turns his head so your lips are in line and kisses you sweetly. You’re warm and soft and you smell so lovely. He’s sure he doesn’t smell as good as you do. Probably like grass and sweat. He should take a shower.

When he pulls away the words are already on his lips. “You didn’t have to clean my house, you know,” he tells you. He reaches down to grab your hand and weave your fingers together. He wants to have you this close forever.

You huff, your eyes on your joint hands. “Yeah, I did. I wanted to do something nice for you. Surprise you when you got home.”

James grins. “Consider me surprised,” he says, craning his neck to dot a kiss to the top of your head. “Thank you, angel.”

You twist so you can look up at him, a smile stretching across your lips. James is only mildly surprised when you steal your hand away to wheedle both your arms around him in a hug, awkward in its position but nothing short of utterly fond. James slides his hand up your back and into your hair.

You squeeze his waist tight. “You’re welcome, Jamie.”

James thinks he might cry from how much he loves you.

-