#james fleamont potter reader-insert

[crescenthistory]

hii 🫶🏻🫶🏻!

im not sure if you've written for james potter before, but if you're up for it, could i request d5 with him? i thought like, reader is a slytherin and she fooled around with barty while she was with james. also not sure if you're okay with writing cheating, (feel free to ignore this is you're not!)

hi lovie! thank you for your request<3 i don't vibe with cheating storylines, but this inspired me to write a one-shot of james pining for reader but thinking she's with barty because they're such close friends. i hope that still scratches your itch!

Prompt: D.5 "But do you love me?" changed into "But you are in love with me?"

Words: 3.7k

Warnings: not proofread, fem!reader, slytherin!reader (sassy/feisty), use of y/n, james pov which includes relentless pining and silly comments, genuine yearning, miscommunication, bsf!barty, slight jealousy/envy, some self-deprecation, background skittles rosekiller and dorlene

The Boy with the Glasses is Blind

James could have kicked himself.

Despite what some professors insinuate, he is usually quite bright – he just so happens to prefer dedicating his intellect to good-willed humour and pranksting rather than gruelling essays that have already been written a thousand times before. He felt he had properly demonstrated his abilities for creativity and strategy with everything he had pulled off over the years, both the pranks he took credit for and the ones they were never able to pin on him.

Yet, here he was.

Sitting in the Transfiguration class shared by most Gryffindors and Slytherins in their year, where Professor McGonnagal in some horrific – in James' previous sentiments – attempt to bridge some gaps and mend some fences, seated a Slytherin and a Gryffindor together at every table. Sitting beside you, the one Slytherin he had never seemed to fully dislike nor target with his more insidious of pranks, but a Slytherin nonetheless, and attached at the hip with one Barty Crouch Junior.

Yes, here he was, sitting beside you and staring at you with what most look like cartoonish heart eyes.

It was not something he necessarily expected to happen, at least not to this extent. You had always held his interest, a fascinating person from who you were to how you spoke and where you placed yourself in society, but it was easily brushed off in the flurry of everything else that surrounded the young boy. In here, he couldn't escape you as easily, and once he realised just what he had been depriving himself of in his avoidance of you, he couldn't escape you even when you weren't around. To him, you were everywhere.

James Fleamont Potter was falling more head over heels in love with a Slytherin with every passing minute. Sirius would have kicked him blue and yellow had he dared open his mouth and voice what was running through his mind when he admired you. Though, James supposed, some of those thoughts were perhaps best never uttered out loud to anyone.

He really couldn't help himself, he thought, it was all your fault for being so sodding angelically flawless. From the first lesson when you playfully threatened him to "behave, Potter, and not soil my education with your unruliness" with that glimmer in your eyes that felt like it must have been reserved for him from a previous life, he has had to pick his jaw up from the floor whenever your eyes meet. The way you carried yourself with a lightheartedness and crackling self-assurance, the way your hair cascaded around you as you turned to him, the way your occasionally crude words towards him were softened by your exuberant tone, as if you took as much pleasure from your back-and-forth exchanges as he did, but with none of the guffawing – a stronger man would have faltered, and James had no qualms about admitting that for you, he was rather weak.

And then there was the way you grinned with your whole body whenever you spoke to your friends and your–

And therein lies the issue.

No gem can sparkle that brightly and not be picked up and admired. To anyone with eyes, let alone ears, it was painfully clear that one Barty Crouch Junior had already snatched up his Treasure, as he called you. James was too late.

The nickname felt tacky in James' mouth as he silently felt around it, trying to figure out what it would feel like to have you as he does. It felt too cheesy, not elegant enough for someone like you, not perfect enough, though James supposes nothing quite could be. Nor was he any better himself, angels and loves had already slipped from his tongue, only to be laughed away as a quip and not a confession – and he didn't even have the right to, not the way Junior did.

You were seated beside James, he could imagine himself feeling your body heat seeping through your clothes and into his if he inched even a centimetre or two closer to you. He could hear your laughter in his ears, he captured the smile in your eyes with his own as often as he could, but even here, within his direct vicinity, he saw the effect Barty had on you. How the two of you seemed to be able to communicate with limited words, mostly through glances and silly facial expressions from where he sat a few rows ahead, fully twisted in his chair to get a good look at you.

James couldn't blame him. It was how he wanted to turn around and stare at you whenever you were near him as well. That maniacal grin on Junior's lips was something James wanted to resent, but also wondered if he would be wearing himself, if he was allowed to brandish it on you.

Unlike Junior, though, he couldn't. James is not a jealous man, he felt he owed his father not to be, but there were few words to describe the sensation building in his throat other than envy. And, perhaps most painfully, a yearning so significant it ached its way through his bones until he was left pliable and broken.

"You with me, Potter?"

James' smile smacked right back onto his lips, albeit slightly more forced than normal as he forced his eyes away – from what he hoped seemed like Junior's general direction and not him specifically – to lock onto yours. There was a quizzical expression on your face and mirth playing over your lips, your soft, beautiful lips.

"Yeah," James made out hoarsely, clearing his throat. "Early mornin' s'all."

The mirth stretched out into a wide, teasing grin on your face, and although James was certain it was at his expense, it melted his own smile into a more genuine one. "Uh-huh. What's made you so tired? You're usually caffeine incarnated first thing in the morning."

"Are you saying you're missing my usual self, love?" Easy, easy, keep it easy.

"I'm saying you're suspicious," you replied with a gleam in your eyes. "Although, you always are. Perhaps it would be suspicious if you weren't behaving suspiciously."

James laughed a bit too loudly at that, warmth spreading in his stomach. "Don't go philosophical on me, L/N."

"I won't, if you don't go boring on me. Transfiguration's enough of a chore as it is."

Pride bloomed out of the spot envy inhabited in James' throat. Somehow he felt just as guilty for both of them, and was just as unable to suppress it as it flowed into his bloodstream.

"Well, when I know you're missin' me so, I can't very well let my best girl down, can I?"

"What a presumptuous young man," you say, words becoming a whisper as McGonnagal walks in to begin her lecture. Despite your smug smile as you said so, James couldn't help but feel slightly rattled at you pointing out the truth to him.

He righted himself in his seat and attempted to dedicate his attention to the Head of Gryffindor, which, unfortunately, he had never been good at even before his entire mind, body and soul seemed to be possessed by the stunner sitting beside him in class. His eyes kept darting over to you, smiling at your facial expressions, even more so when you occasionally caught his gaze with a smile of your own. A strand of hair fell out of your hairstyle as you cocked your head to look at him. James couldn't decide whether he wanted it to stay messy or if he wanted to be the one to tuck it back in for you. His hands remained drumming on the desk.

He attempted to focus up on the lecture, but poor Minnie's voice simply became droning to him when his nose was filled with the smell of you, making him slightly lightheaded. And Merlin, the way you were biting your lip while you took notes – it was an actual miracle he hadn’t melted into a puddle on the classroom floor by now.

Then, his attention was abruptly captured by a small piece of parchment whirring right past his face to force itself into your hand on the desk. You were shaking, smiling over the lip you were still biting as you opened it.

James – in a totally cool non-creepy fashion, of course – tried to get a good luck at the note, but couldn't without giving it away. What he definitely could tell, though, was how Junior was snickering at you over his shoulder like a hyena. Not the borderline scary snicker James had been victim of before, but a fond one, like you were sharing a secret together just the two of you.

Unable to watch more of your reaction, James looked back onto the desk, willing himself away.

You were never one to allow him reprieve, giving him a discreet poke with your wand. When he looked up, your head was in your hand and you were leaning your head sideways to look at him. “Daydreaming again, Potter?” you whispered.

His cheeks burned. “Not a chance,” he responded a bit too quickly, causing you to smile in delight as you leaned closer to him. His heart gave a particularly hard thud at that.

“Are you sure? Because you’ve been staring at my notes for a few minutes, and last I checked, you don’t even take notes. So it's clearly no ruse to copy me.”

“I take notes!" James tried to retort, but when you levelled him with a stare he just smiled indulgently at you instead. "Occasionally."

"Yeah, you're a total swot, babe," you laughed quietly, shooting McGonnagal a quick glance to make sure you're still being discreet.

He knows you're messing with him, he knows it's just colloquialism, but he would have paid embarrassing amounts for you to call him that again.

"Very well might be, you're quite contagious, angel." The slight snort that escaped you at that probably made his day.

“Uh-huh,” you said softly, for the second time that lesson. “Whatever you say, Gryffindor.”

By the grace of Godric, McGonagall dismissed class before James combusted like he thought he would. He exhaled in relief, but it was short-lived as his nerves shot up as you began to pack your stuff, knowing he won't see you again until dinner. Not that he had memorised your schedule, or anything.

He opened his mouth, hoping to think of something clever and smooth to keep your attention for even a second longer, when your usual company approached your shared desk. He heard Junior's laugh before he saw him, eyes still trained on you, and when he turned Barty, Dorcas and Evan had formed some circle around you, chattering away with a casualness he rarely witnessed up close.

“Tomorrow’s going to be incredible,” Dorcas exclaimed almost-giddily, pulling her scarf up around her neck. “I can't wait to let off some steam finally."

“Oh, I'm sure you will, Cas,” you replied teasingly, pointing a finger at her teasingly. "Asked a certain blonde to join you yet?"

"How about you mind your business, Missy?" She shot back trying to shove your face away, but you dodged, using James' arm as a shield. He felt like a mannequin the way he stood beside you, almost dumbly, frozen by the exchange.

Evan just snickered. “Good luck prying Barty away from the game section, he's still pissy about last time."

"You mean when he gambled away all–" Dorcas was shut up with a quick silencio from Barty, which she quickly fought through and stuck her tongue out at him for.

"Hearsay and goss, I tell you!" Barty declared, shoving Evan aside to come stand beside you, arm circling around your waist. "I almost didn't go this year, I'm only joining because Treasure here practically threatened me to."

"Yeah, how dare you even consider leaving me to the wolves," you retorted to him at the same time as Dorcas murmurs something about "yeah, didn't wanna go because you lost so bad".

"Nah, we can't have that," Barty agreed with you while shooting Dorcas a glare, and then he – to James' utter pain and heartbreak – pressed a kiss to the top of your head while squeezing your hip.

Nevermind that it was a quick kiss, nevermind that you laughed at him. James just saw lips against skin.

Now that Junior was basically cuddling you standing up (James wanted no corrections calling this description an exaggeration), James had gravitated further away from you. He may have lost his mind with this whole lovesickness, but he respected you, your choices and your space. With the way you were throwing your head back laughing with your friends about some plans James didn't even know about, he knew he was not wanted nor needed here.

Pulling his bag closer towards his body, he gave a quick nod to no one in particular and turned around, headed towards the door.

"James, wait up!"

Your voice cut through his mind's ramblings, as it always does, and your use of his first name brought flowers to his vision once more. He turned around, hoping to look mostly casual but he's sure his face was an open book. His eyes zeroed in on you walking towards him, leaving your group of friends and Junior behind, but he heard a telltale laughter and he hoped it wasn't at how stupidly in love he looked with someone he could never have.

James blinked at you in confusion as you stopped before him, but you just wore the simplest smile on your face.

“Want to take a walk with me?” you asked, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"What?" he asked dumbly.

There was mirth in your gaze when you repeated your question. "We both have a free period now, I usually spend it in our common room. But I'm asking if you want to take a walk with me instead?"

James had to physically restrain himself from replying "I know" when you disclosed your habit, while also wondering how and why you came to know his schedule.

He managed to sputter out a response. “Yeah, yes, of course.” He couldn’t quite stop the grin from spreading across his face, and he felt a bit like an overeager puppy, but you didn’t seem to mind. In fact, you looked rather pleased, which only made his heart race faster.

"Enthusiasm gets you everywhere, Potter," you responded calmly, falling into step with him as you led him out of the classroom, leading him down the less-frequented hallways. The road less travelled by.

The two of you strolled down the corridor, side by side, with the chilly autumn breeze filtering through an open window. James wanted to say something witty, something that would make you laugh, but he was mostly in his head, confused about everything that transpired the past few minutes.

"What's that about the fair?" He decided that was safe territory, though he feared having you recount all your plans with Junior there.

"Oh, you have no idea," you started excitedly. James pretended it didn’t cut a bit that he had no idea. "It's this annual fair that Pandora – you know, Rosier – discovered back in fourth. It's got the weirdest, coolest booths and games you'll ever see, with performances from unique professionals. It usually changes every year, last time it was a fire manipulator and a necromancer."

Upon James' quirked brow at you finding fire and necromancy the coolest, you continued. "Come on, you Marauders would have loved it. There's prank ideas and props to last you for months. And there's great food as well."

"Okay, okay," James laughed as he maintained eye contact with you. "I believe you, sounds fun. I hope you guys enjoy it."

If James wasn't as bright as he was, he might have mistook the flash of emotion across your face as a small bout of uncertainty or insecurity.

"Actually, that's something I wanted to ask you about," you started, trailing off as you stopped by one of the larger windows in the hallway, leaning against the windowsill. He followed your example, attention wholly on you. "We have this tradition, my friends and I, that we use the fair as an opportunity to challenge ourselves in some way, do something that... I guess something that scares us."

James just nodded, keeping his attention on you as his heart beats in his chest. Your smile turned a bit rueful.

"That's actually what I was messing with Cas about earlier," you continued. "She's finally asking your friend Marlene out on a date, to go with her to the fair."

That's what you wanted to talk about? James admired you almost more for how dedicated you were to your friends.

"I can tell you without a doubt that Marls would say yes," he reassured you with a smile. "Those two have been a work in progress for ages."

"For so long, it's been physically painful to witness," you laughed. That sound is anything but painful to witness.

James hummed in response, laughter rumbling through his chest as he continued to take you in, scanning your face.

"What are you doing that scares you?" he asked before he could stop himself.

You took a deep breath, chin up in that almost defiant way as you held his gaze. "I'm actually following in Dorcas' footsteps... or I guess perhaps beating her to it, seeing as she hasn't yet."

James blinked at you, clueless as to what you're leading up to.

"I wondered if you wanted to go with me to the fair?"

He felt as if he had been slapped in the face and like he was coming up for air after a long snog. He didn't really know what he felt, just that it was a lot, too much, even for him.

"I'd love to," he blurted out with a breath, words scrambling together. Then, his brows furrowed in confusion as he tried to understand your sentence. "I mean– with me, are you sure? Aren't you going with, erm, with Junior?"

You gave him a puzzled look, cocking your head at him as if he had said something entirely irrelevant. "What do you mean?"

James looked sheepish and couldn’t quite meet your gaze over the sound of his own heart breaking. "I mean, it would be really nice to go with you to the fair, anywhere really, but wouldn't Junior mind?"

"Barty–" You cut yourself off, still looking confused. "Barty's the one who's been encouraging me to ask you out, actually. What are you on about?"

"Why?" was all James could breathe out, world unravelling in a way that made his stomach twist with painful hope.

"Um, because I like you? And unless I have suddenly lost all my interpretation skills, I am quite certain you've been fond of me for quite some time too, Potter."

"I am, but– wait– you are? What?" James guffawed. His intense confusion irritated his skin apparently because he had a sudden urge to scratch the back of his neck, his upper arms and pretty much any other piece of flesh. Maybe the embarrassment could be peeled off that way.

Despite it all, you laughed heartily and, what James was beginning to realise, bemusedly maybe even adoringly at his failure to speak. It seemed like you had pieced together everything he couldn't.

"Yeah, I like you, you sod. Think I just flirt with everyone?"

An "I hope not" lies on the tip of his tongue, but instead he shook his head in admonishment.

"Snake's got your tongue, babe?" you asked him, taking a taunting step closer.

"Looks like it," James mumbled, eyes zeroed in on your face as heat rose to his own. Growing bolder in your declaration, he continued, "I suppose I'm just confused. I always thought you were with Junior? That you two were... in love."

The last words brought a grimace to his lips, like it pained him to say. As if on instinct, your hand shot forward to wipe beneath his bottom lip to coax the frown off his face. His lips parted in shock and suspense at your touch and when you seemed to realise what you had done, you pulled your hand back quickly. You had the decency to look slightly flustered after that, allowing him some semblance of a more even playing field.

"No, James," you whispered with a smile as you shook your head. "Barty is my best friend and I love him with my whole heart. But I never have, and never will be in love with him. Him and Evan have been an item for, like, ages."

Finally, a brilliant smile – one you would later describe to him "shone like the sun" to which he attacked you with kisses because "that's so sodding cute of you to say, you sappy romantic" – took over his face.

Without thinking, he stepped closer to you, hand coming up to brush carefully against your cheek as you looked wide-eyed at his positivity and adoration now radiating off of him. "But you're in love with me?" he whispered with rapture, up to speed at last.

It took you a moment before you chuckled lightly, sheepishly looking down at your feet before once more meeting his piercing gaze.

"How about we start with that date, and see where it goes from there, huh pretty boy?"

So, yes, James most certainly could have and probably should have kicked himself – but right now, he found that he had other business he would much rather attend to.

[ticifics]

“𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐭 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐭?”

James Potter x f!reader

Summary: His blue eyes shine behind crooked glasses, an angelic smile plastered on his lips, as if he weren’t the one responsible for the state you’re in now. As if he hadn’t been there, just a few hours ago, with his hot breath against your skin, his hands firmly gripping your waist while the world crumbled around you.

Warnings: husband!James, wife!reader, fluff, suggestive, no use of y/n, muggle au, est. relationship, a james full of teasing about last night

The smell of fresh coffee fills the room even before you open your eyes. The aroma is warm, strong, mixed with the buttery sweetness of something freshly cooked. It’s a comforting smell, a homey smell, the kind that belongs to lazy mornings. But as your body begins to wake up, something else takes over—a heavier, lingering warmth that weighs on your muscles, a vivid memory that makes your face flush before you can even stop it.

You shift under the sheets and feel it.

Your body still soft, deliciously sore in all the right places. A faint, lingering ache that makes your stomach twist in a way that has nothing to do with hunger.

That’s when James walks into the room.

His blue eyes shine behind crooked glasses, an angelic smile plastered on his lips, as if he weren’t the one responsible for the state you’re in now. As if he hadn’t been there, just a few hours ago, with his hot breath against your skin, his hands firmly gripping your waist while the world crumbled around you.

He balances a tray carefully in his hands, walking over to the bed with the expression of someone who’s done nothing wrong.

You narrow your eyes.

“Good morning, love,” he murmurs, his voice low, lazy.

You glance at the clock on the nightstand and blink at the time. “Jamie, it’s late.”

He sits on the edge of the bed, setting the tray aside before leaning in and brushing your hair away from your face with a distracted tenderness. His gaze sweeps over you, attentive, lingering, taking in every detail—the tangled sheets around you, his shirt slipping off one shoulder, the warm flush still burning on your cheeks.

The corner of his mouth curves.

“I know,” he replies simply. “I wanted to let you sleep a little longer.”

Your breath hitches when he leans in even closer, his nose lightly brushing against your temple before he murmurs, low and conspiratorial: “You seemed like you needed it.”

The blush spreads even hotter across your face, and you shift, trying to escape that knowing look. But the movement makes your muscles protest, a sharp, lingering ache running through your body in a shiver that escapes as an involuntary sigh.

James notices.

You feel it when he holds his breath for a second. His gaze, which was soft and attentive before, becomes something else. A darker, deeper blue.

His fingers slide over your exposed thigh under the sheets, a light, lazy touch, as if testing a theory.

“Are you okay?” he asks, and there’s something in his tone—a mix of genuine tenderness and shameless pride.

You want to kill him.

“Jamie,” you start, but your voice comes out weaker than it should.

He smiles. And it’s a dangerous smile.

The kind of smile that doesn’t match the man who, now, has prepared such a thoughtful breakfast, as if he weren’t the same one who tore you apart with no patience last night. As if he hadn’t pressed his body against yours, his breath ragged in your ear, his fingers digging into your skin, holding you exactly where he wanted.

But now? Now he’s all tenderness.

His thumb traces a lazy circle on your thigh, a touch so delicate it barely tickles. His gaze is absurdly soft, his voice low and warm when he asks, with a genuine concern that would almost be touching, if it weren’t so annoyingly charming:

“Does it hurt a lot?”

You swallow hard, trying to ignore the shiver that runs down your spine at the way he watches you—as if he’s memorizing every tiny reaction of yours. As if he’s remembering what he did to leave you like this.

James lets out an almost regretful sigh before leaning in, his lips ghosting over your temple, the touch barely there. “You should’ve told me if I was being too rough, love.”

Your face burns.

Indignation rises in your throat, but it dies on your tongue when he chuckles softly, his fingers squeezing your thigh just a little before pulling away, picking up the breakfast tray as if he hadn’t just dropped a grenade in the middle of your thoughts.

James places the cup between your fingers, blowing on the rim of the porcelain as if to make sure the coffee isn’t too hot for you. Then, he breaks off a piece of croissant, buttering it with a care that makes no sense, before holding it between two fingers and bringing it to your mouth.

You frown. “I can feed myself, Potter.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Can you?” His voice slides into something low and slightly amused. “Because last night it didn’t seem like you could do much on your own.”

Your stomach drops.

His laugh is light, satisfied, but it doesn’t last long—because as much as James likes to tease, he likes taking care of you even more. And that’s why, instead of pushing, he simply brushes your cheek with his knuckles, his gaze sliding from your eyes to your mouth.

“Please, love.” His voice is low, velvety. “Do me this favor?”

You sigh, closing your eyes for a second, and open your mouth.

James doesn’t say anything, but his gaze brightens when you finally bite into the bread. He waits for you to chew, to swallow, to take a sip of coffee, before leaning in a little closer and murmuring, his breath warm against your skin:

“Good girl.”

The heat that shoots up your spine almost makes you drop the cup.

James pulls away slowly, and his smile is dangerously close to smug as he sits back down, taking your free hand just to play with your fingers between his. He presses a quick kiss to your palm before saying, casually:

“Now eat properly, love. You’re going to need to rest.”

Your body relaxes for a brief second.

Until he adds, with an undeniably mischievous glint in his eye:

“…for a few hours.”

[moonstruckme]

Omg please please please waterpark day with James? 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻 I just know he would be so goofy like a little kid. You standing at the edge of the wave pool with a bunch of moms, and they’re like “which ones yours?” And you have to be like “oh the grown man over there.” 😂😂

Thank you so much, gorgeous! Hope you’re having a good day 💖💖💖

Thank you for requesting angel! Hope you're having a good day too :)

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 603 words

You can feel the heat of the pavement seeping up through your towel. It warms your bum and the bottoms of your legs, sweat pooling underneath your knees. You fantasize about popsicles and ice cold drinks. 

Nearby, a few women sitting on towels not unlike yours seem to be making friends. 

“Keeping up with sunscreen is such a nightmare,” one says. 

Another hums commiseratingly. “They don’t want to get out of the water to reapply, and then I can hardly keep them out long enough to let it dry before they’re running back in.” 

“I always tell mine we won’t stop for ice cream on the way home if they’re not patient,” says a third. She catches you listening and smiles at you. “There has to be some ultimatum, right?” 

The first woman laughs. “I think there’d be a mutiny if we passed that by on our way out of here.” 

“Yeah,” you shrug, “we always end up stopping, too.” 

There’s laughter and sheepish agreement. “Which one is yours?” one of the women asks you. 

“Oh, um…” You try to locate your boyfriend in the teeming pool below. You’ve lost track of him, but he’s not hard to find. A shape larger than all the rest comes bobbing up on the other end of a wave, hair flicking water in all directions. Brawny shoulders rise above the surface as James stands to his full height. The water comes hardly to his chest, whereas plenty of the kids around him are chin-deep or having to kick their feet to stay afloat. 

You let yourself trail off as he grins at you, starting toward the edge of the wave pool. 

“You look warm,” he says, forgoing the ladder on the side of the pool in favor of lifting himself out. You watch a nearby lifeguard have a brief internal debate over whether it’s within her duties to reprimand an adult man for this before deciding to move past it. James sets a knee on the concrete, streaming water as he straightens and comes over to you. “You should come in.” 

You shade your eyes to look up at him, ignoring the women around you now pointedly averting theirs. “I saw a plaster floating around in there earlier,” you say. 

James makes a face as he sits down next to you. You decide not to complain about him getting your towel wet when he begins scrubbing his wet hands up and down your legs, cooling them. “One plaster in all that? What’re the odds you’ll see it again, lovely?” 

You hum, smiling despite yourself. “I think I’m good, thanks.” 

“Fine, fair enough.” James smiles back like he just can’t help himself. He gives your thigh a loving squeeze. “How about we do the Plummet again instead?” 

“Oh, Jamie…” You cast a glance in the direction of the park’s largest water slide. “The line is always so long.” 

“Worth the wait, though.” He kisses your shoulder enticingly. “And it’ll help you cool off.” 

You lower your voice. “I was hoping we could go get ice cream soon. That would cool me off, too.” 

James makes a pensive tsking sound in the corner of his mouth. “How about one more time on the Plummet, and then we can go get your ice cream?” 

“Okay,” you agree readily, standing to begin folding your towel. “Let me just get my things together first.” 

“Yes! Thank you.” James hugs you from behind while you fold, planting a smacking kiss on your cheek. “This is why you’re perfect for me, angel.” 

You roll your eyes, feigning reluctance. As if it’s any sacrifice.

[unconventional-lawnchair]

Marauders and Lightning Era Masterlist

started - 08.13.2024

last updated - 02.12.2025

Credit for Dividers

All triggers and small summaries listed in the fanfiction

Matured audience advised

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Part 1-9 can be read as a standalone. Summary: Harry Potter grew up without the warmth of a family he should have known. A father in James Potter, a mother in Lily Potter, a God Father in Sirius Black, and an uncle in Remus Lupin. Oh, and let's not forget, a godmother in {Y/N} {L/N} Alt Summary: Starts at the end of Chamber of secrets and into the Prisoner of Azkaban with the first chapter, Harry meeting his father's old friends, and starts learning the fate of {Y/N}, who has long since been presumed dead. there seems to be more of a story hidden behind her disappearance, and in turn, her reappearance.

-Good boy, Pads {Mini-Siris}

Summary: Long hours, late nights, and dark alleyways. Good thing you have a guardian angel looking out for you. {Aka: Padfoot protects a muggle reader on her walk home}

-Expectations

Summary: Reminiscing on some romantic encounters, you have come to the conclusion Harry Potter is not someone you'd ever date. HURT/COMFORT

HEADCANNONS

Jealousy, Jealousy

Where the boys get jealous... (Feat. Barty, Regulus, Sirius, Remus, and James)

POLY!SHIPS

-Poly!Marauders+Lily x Fem!Reader

- Zombie Apocalypse Au

-Loving You is Easy

Summary: Being younger than all your respective partners was never a big deal; until they graduated and you were left behind. As your mental health declined and their lives started without you, a break was needed.

-Lily's Touch {Omegaverse}

Summary: The reader is experiencing her first heat, and nothing matter how hard she tries, she can't get the nest right.

-Jily x Slytherin!Reader

Jily x Slytherin!gnreader Summary: An interesting situationship with Jily}

-Sirius/James/Remus Band Au

Summary: Reader has a horrible encounter on stage and the boys comfort her

-What's Your Name? {Sneak Peak}

Moonwater Fluff

-Status Quo

Summary: Early mornings and the Status Quo of the Marauder's house hold. {THIS FANFICTION IS INSPIRED- no, actually, basically a tribute to @/ellecdc's PadVix fanfiction. I would be amazed you are reading any of my stuff and not having read theirs but the link is here if you need it.

REMUS LUPIN

-Spoiled Brat (Pt 1?) (Lil Angsty, +18, fluff)

Summary: When your escapism over the summer turns a bit more real, as you fall in love with a half blood your father would never approve of}

-Think like a Lupin (Angsty, lotta angst, happy ending! fluff +18)

Summary: Your parents are planning to marry you off the second after you graduate, but after an unfortunate encounter with a werewolf, plans change.

-Break a Leg Not My Heart (Some angst, mostly light hearted fluff)

Summary: You get hurt during Quidditch practice and Remus doesn't leave your side. Friends to lovers.

-Meeting Royalty (Fluff, Suggestive)

Summary: Meet cute but make it royalty} Part 2

-Too Late (Angst, no comfort) {Pt.2}

Summary: Remus comes to terms with a love lost to his own insecurities.

-Stray

Summary: Post war Remus finds home for his heart

-It Repeats Itself

Summary: Even years after the war the effects of Voldemort's reign still had waves of effects. One just so happened to have a poor girl caught in the cross fire. (This is more of a concept then a fleshed out story-a little cliche)

-Just thinking about Sirius testing tattoo ideas on you...

-Over and Over Again

Summary: The legend of soulmates and the myth of endless lives tied to one another permanently was once a myth you don't believe. Until you met Remus Lupin.

BARTY CROUCH JUNIOR

-The boy I knew {Sneak peek}

Summary- When Barty knew love

-The Boy I Knew {Part 1} (Angst, Fluff, +18)

-Do You Some Good

“When we’re done here, we can go back to hating each other. Deal?” “You’re not going to believe this, but I think I actually prefer things like this.”

-Dear Future Husband

-Cat and Mouse

Summary: The reader can never truly get away Barty, no matter how hard she tries. He'll always find his family.

-Love me, too

Summary: Late nights with loose lipped Barty, a single conversation unraveled years of yearning.

-I am not writing this because I could not mentally take it but...

-Trust and Obedience

Summary: Small snippets of moments between you and Barty, where you really should have picked up on his spiral.

Potter!Reader;

-Everything is Blue

Summary: As things escalate with Barty he draws a line in the sand.

-I Might Still Hate You

Summary: An unexpected guest shows up at your house late at night.

-Not Quite Poison- {Pt.2}

Summary: after a chance meeting in the library; a whirlwind love affair between Barty Crouch Jr and the youngest Potter blossom, but neither of them were prepared for how life would go after.

-They'll Be Alright

Summary: James Potter learns to like tolerate his sisters taste in men.

-Making Mistakes - {Pt.2}

Summary: After a horrible break up in 7th year, Barty and you haven't spoken a word to eachother. Then, he comes barreling back into your life begging for forgiveness, will you trust him?

JAMES POTTER

-Fall in Love in a Night (A lil angst, basically just a fluffy fluffy love story)

Summary: College AU, Muggle AU, James falls in love with the some of the worst parts of you }

-Fix it Yourself (All the Angst, lil comfort) +18

Summary: Falling in love with James Potter was a whirlwind affair full of lies and heartbreak. Everything comes to a head when he asks you to fake date someone so Lily will give him a chance.

-Little Lupin (Fluff)

Summary: James has a little crush on little Lupin

-Masterpiece

Summary: James Potter goes a little too far with a girl everyone happens to like.

-Just Kiss Her

Summary: You find a few unsent letters with your name on them- literally.

-Bed Hopper

Summary: After creating a tradition of cuddling James before bed, you'd think you'd have the path down by now.

-Not Made for Easy

Summary: Years of loving and yearning unfurl the night before graduation. A dramatic love confession.

-Why Couldn't It Be Us

Summary: James grappled with the reality of loosing the love of his life.

SIRIUS BLACK

-Casual (Angsty, fluff at the end) +18

Summary: Sirius falls for his most recent hook up, and she refuses to cave to what she wants}

-Fix it Yourself (All the Angst, lil comfort) +18

Summary: Falling in love with James Potter was a whirlwind affair full of lies and heartbreak. Everything comes to a head when he asks you to fake date someone so Lily will give him a chance.

-Like my father {Blurb}

Summary: Reader wants a man to love her like her father loves her mom. She just hasn't met him yet.. maybe.

-Kiss And Make-Up

Summary: Pool side at the Potters, Sirius takes you for a swim.

-Rock 'n Roll

Summary: Sirius stays home with a hangover, but the reader is always there to lend a hand.

-Just thinking about Sirius testing tattoo ideas on you...

-Self Fulfilling Prophecy

Summary: Potters love like it's a sport, but it seems that only a Black can challenge that.

FRED WEASLEY

-Summer Talks

Summary: Fred lets you know what he's waiting for

-Too Much Like Me

Summary: James finds out Lily's type in men is apparently genetic.

-Burning Bright, Falling Hard

Summary: Fred Weasley and you share a quiet moment in your room

HERMIONE GRANGER

-Invisible (Lil Angsty, basically just fluff) Blurb

Summary: Reader is a bit of a punk like Sirius, with Remus's insecurities. She doesn't believe she deserves a girl like Hermione. No real plot just Angst straight into fluff

MATTHEO RIDDLE

-But daddy I love him (Lil Angst, fluff)

Summary: Harry finds out his sister is dating Mattheo Riddle Ft. James, Lily, Remus, Sirius - No war au }

" Dinner Party " (Pt 2)

Summary: The Potters throw a dinner party; Mattheo meets the family} Wc- 4142

-King's Gambit

Summary: You go to a Ministry gala with your family, meeting and dancing with Mattheo Riddle, who is just looking to cause some trouble,

REGULUS BLACK

-Monarch butterfly (Hurt/comfort) wip

Summary- Monarch butterflies only live for up to six weeks. Their life brings an unspoken joy to the people who witness it, a peaceful feeling to the life that last so much longer then their own. They bring smiles to the faces of children, they bring good luck for those who choose it, they bring so much value to lives they will never truly be a part of. Your butterfly was, and always would be, Regulus black.

BLAISE ZABINI

-Before a Stranger

Summary: Friends before a stranger

[le-clair-de-lune]

For my lovely anon from this request: "jealous!reader if james was to be flirted with? and like how james would react to it."

Hope you enjoy it!!

"Who does she think she is?" you asked to no one in particular, you eyes trained on the hand of some bimbo who obviously doesn't understand personal space.

You had been looking for your boyfriend, wondering what had been taking so long, only to find him... preoccupied.

Sirius is the first to notice the look you're sending across the room "Uh oh" he lets out causing the others to turn to you "Someone's jealous"

Your brows furrowed together as you tore your eyes away to look at him. "Who me?" you say baffled "Why would I be jealous? I am perfectly fine" you scoffed

"Your drink would say otherwise" Marlene smirks eyeing the crumpled cup in your hand.

Your eyes widen dropping the cup on the table next to you. "Shut up" you mumble.

Lily rolls her eyes "No need to be jealous, sweetheart. Everyone knows he's yours, practically walks around with 'property of y/n' stamped on him"

"Listen here, Red" you start "I'm not jealous, got it?" you say pouring yourself another drink

Jealous pfft why would you be jealous? You are in a perfectly secure relationship with the most loyal man in the world, how could you be jealous?

The others brows raise in response, "Surrre you're not" Remus says taking a puff of his cigarette.

"I'm not! Who would I be jealous of huh? Blondie over there? The one who's been eyeing James from across the room the whole time? The one who had his quidditch number on her cheek during the game? The daft, dense, mindless little tart who is currently trying to make a move on my boyfriend" you let out with a sarcastic smile "Puhlease, I am totally unbothered"

"Riiight" Sirius is the first to speak the rest looking at you amused. "Well then good thing you're unbothered because looks like she's getting comfortable over there"

In an instant you're out of your seat, heading over there. Leaving behind a smirking group of friends.

"Anyone got popcorn?" Peter asks leaning back in his seat, ready to watch the event unfold.

---

James had just wanted a drink, now he was stuck with some random Hufflepuff girl whose name he couldn't be bothered to remember. Molly? Polly? who cares?? She was becoming way to touchy for him to care.

"Uh yeah" James nodded agreeing to whatever she had been saying whilst trying to shift away.

James' sense of discomfort eases when he sees you making his way over to him. His lips parting as he takes you in. You looked really fucking hot. You were wearing his extra jersey which, with the help of magic, you had made bigger and cinched in all the right places to create a dress. A dress that left James drooling the moment he saw you this morning, not only did it accentuate your curves but it brandished his name. Everyone knew you were his girl and Merlin did he love it.

"Hi darl-" he was cut off but your lips pressing into his. Your fingers threading through his hair tugging softly, whilst pressing closer to him. James hummed in delight pulling you into him his hands travelling down to your ass, paying no mind to girl awkwardly watching the scene. This was not the greeting he was expecting, but who was he to complain?

When you finally pulled away you giggled at his dazed state, straightening his glasses and wiping the lip gloss from his lips as he looked at you with glossy eyes.

The girl coughed, turning your attention to her “Oh sorry! did I interrupt something?” you exclaimed in faux surprise, smiling at the obviously irritated girl.

“Yes actually” she scoffed “Me and Jamie were just making hogsmeade plans, weren’t we?” she pouted looking towards him, only to find him watching you with wide eyes and a stupidly adorable smile.

Jamie? The. Fucking. Audacity.

“Oh were you?” you smirked stroking the back of James’ head “Is that true, my love?” you sent him a soft smile.

“Huh?” he murmured letting his eyes trail over your body.

You couldn’t help out but let out a laugh watching the girl scowl.

“Jamie” you gained his attention cupping his cheek.

“Yeah”

“It’s rude to not respond baby, she’s asking you something”

“Oh” he blinked “ What was the question?” he asked keeping his eyes on you.

“Whatever” The girl scoffed walking away.

James payed her no mind, pulling you back into him kissing over your face.

“You. Look. Fucking. Ethereal.” he emphasized kissing you after each word

“Mhmm could’ve seen me in something better if you weren’t distracted” you teased, pouting as you trailed a finger down his chest.

James’ head filled with ideas of what that ‘something better’ his breath catching before he caught up with your words.

“Distracted?”

“Mhm with that girl” you say eyes drifting to the Hufflepuff, who was still watching, complaining to her friends.

James smirked as he saw the look of disgust on your face. Were you jealous?

"Find something amusing?" you raised a brow, pulling away "Were you having a nice time her?"

"With Polly?" James chuckled "I couldn't give a shit about her, love."

"I thought her name wa-"

"Who gives a fuck?" James deadpanned pulling you back into him "Why would I care about her when I've got all this" he reasoned running his hands over your body. "As if she could compare to my sexy goddess of a girlfriend"

You couldn't help but smile all your worries washing away, you leaned up whispering in his ear "Yeah well your sexy girlfriend has a present for her champion boyfriend" kissing under his ear before continuing "A red lacy present"

James groaned, his pants tightened as he burrowed his head into your neck. "I should make you jealous more often"

" 'm not jealous" you roll your eyes

"Whatever you say princess"

You locked eyes with the girl over his shoulder, smirking as he kissed at your neck.

So maybe you were jealous? It doesn't matter. Because at the end of the day, your sex god boyfriend only had eyes for you.

[sunskisser]

Hi my love!!

I’d LOVE a scarf for Christmas.

Can I do James Potter and “please forget all the times where i complained about you being a hugger.”

Maybe where reader is not really a touchy person most of the time (cuz I’m not either lol).

Thank you! Love you!!!

here’s your scarf, lovely mk!!🧣thank you for the request, love you loads <333

phone | j.p.

— “Please forget all the times where I complained about you being a hugger.”

james potter x reader

summary: there’s a creep, and it’s cold outside. fortunately, james lives nearby

tw: creepy guy, protective james <3, sorry i know i said that most of the sleepover drabbles would be christmas themed but the only christmasy thing about this is that the weather’s cold 😭

“Make sure she gets home safe!” you yell to Mary over the din of the club, steering a very drunk Lily into her arms. She grins and flashes you a thumbs-up as you turn around to leave.

Your tipsy friend’s high-pitched giggles can be heard as you make your way out, your heart jumping on beat to the music. It’s not just loud, it’s booming, and paired with the blinding disco lights, acutely overstimulating.

When Mary had first suggested this place, you definitely had your reservations — more often than not, you spotted drunkards stumbling out with either bruises on their faces or girls on their arms. But you decided to tag along. Admittedly, it had been fun. Now you were more than ready to go home to the warmth of your bed.

You’re about to push the door open when you realise you’ve left your coat back at the table. You swivel back around to find Lily swaying side to side, bent over.

She lets out a bulky groan, and your lips curve into a slight grimace in anticipation. You open your mouth to warn somebody but it’s too late; she hurtles forward, throwing up over everything in a one metre radius — your coat included.

You turn back to the front door and swing it open with a barely concealed sigh, heels clicking against the pavement as you step outside.

Cold wind hits you like a slap in the face. You’re pretty sure that your shudder is audible, rows of teeth clacking against one another as you curl into yourself. 

The mini dress your friends had picked out for you does nothing to help. You tug the ends of it downwards, squeezing your thighs together and wrapping your arms around yourself in a desperate attempt to keep warm.

You glance at the road, frustration starting to nip at you. There seem to be no taxis in sight, demand raging high on a Friday night. Walking home wasn’t an option — it was way too far away and freezing was an understatement for how you felt right now. 

James’ house was nearby, but you had been pulling out all the stops to avoid him for the past few days. Not that you didn’t like him — on the contrary, you really, really liked him. A friend from high school had introduced you to him at a party and you were immediately smitten. He asked you out, and you’d been seeing each other for a couple of weeks. He was everything you could’ve wanted in a man, more than what you’d ever hoped for. You just spent a lot of time worrying you were going to screw it all up — hence never called when he asked you to, made up excuses not to meet when he wanted to. James deserved better.

“Darling!”

You’re pulled out of your thoughts by the sudden voice, rough and sultry from behind you. You whip around, instinctively taking a step back as your eyes land on the long-haired man staggering around in front of the club. His face is tilted downwards, staring into his empty liquor bottle almost… sadly.

But then he looks up at you. His eyes are dark with desire, mouth curving into something vile. It scares you. “Come here, darling. Come here.”

“Go away.” You try to sound unafraid. It comes out on a shaky breath, betraying the anxiety clogging up your throat. You take a few more cautious steps backwards, eyes darting between the man in front of you and the path behind you.

Your hand is already reaching for your phone in your pocket as soon as he starts stumbling towards you. Your fingers feel heavy, turned to smudge as you switch it on and desperately click on James’ contact.

“I asked you,” the man growls, “to come here!” He takes bigger, unsteady steps towards you, liquor bottle smashed to the ground without a care in the world.

Your heart feels like it’s being roped out of your throat, mind turned to mush in your head. You press your phone to your ear, turning around and mustering the quickest steps possible in your 6-inch heels. The cold is all-consuming now, tearing at your skin like wild dogs to prey. But all that’s on your mind is getting home safe. 

You’re barely a few rings in when James’ voice cuts through. “Hello? Y/n, is that you?”

“James!”

“Y/n, sweetheart. God, have you been ignoring me? I was so worried, and thought you hated me, and — “

“James.” The panic in your voice must be really palpable, because he shuts up immediately. “Yeah?”

You glance backwards for a split second as you walk ahead, seeing that the man has sped up. His arms are outreached towards you, and he’s spewing dirty lines you’d kill never to hear again. The smirk on his face widens by the second.

“Babe, what’s wrong?” James’ concerned voice comes through again, and you snap your head forwards and exhale shakily.

“You know that club really close to your place, the one with the um… the huge statue of a horse outside? I’m near there. Could you please walk over and fetch me? There’s a creep, and it’s cold, and —“

“Hold on, there’s a creep?” His worry is obvious. You hear the rustling of fabric and the flipping of switches on his end. “Are you safe?”

“Not really,” you croak honestly, sparing another look behind you to find your stalker doubled over, spilling his guts out onto the side of the road. You fasten your pace.

You can almost hear the frown in James’ voice. “Be careful, sweetheart. I’ll be there as fast as I can.”

You hang up and pocket your phone. Your nose is running, you can’t feel your fingers where they touch your cheek. You’re numbed.

You force yourself to keep walking, chanting James’ name like a desperate prayer in your mind. Your train of thought is interrupted by the creep once again. You squeeze your eyes shut as his voice hovers by, dangerously close, bracing yourself for what’s to come.

“You stupid girl, you better turn around or else I’ll —“

“You’ll what?”

Your eyes crack open immediately to find James jogging over to you, eyes locked on the figure behind you. It’s like your prayers have been answered. His gaze drifts to you, and in a second he’s got his arm wrapped around your back as he pulls you into his chest. 

“I’m asking you again, jerk. What do you think you’re gonna do to my girl?” You feel yourself melting into him with relief, letting your eyes flutter shut as you absorb the vibrations of his chest with each word he pushes out. His voice is hard, strained. A tone you’d never associate with the sweet boy holding you, but love does silly things to people sometimes. Maybe he loved you.

Your stalker mutters something unintelligible, along with a very loud, “Fuck you!” before staggering away.

James’ attention is on you instantly. He pulls away slightly to grip you by the shoulders, looking you over with a worried frown. “Are you okay? He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

You shake your head, teeth chattering too rapidly to give a straight answer. Your shivering doesn’t go unnoticed. He conjures up a jacket from seemingly nowhere, draping it over the back of your shoulders.

You can tell he’s trying to hold back for your sake, one hand rubbing circles into your shoulder while the other brushes strands of hair off your face. You’ve never been the type to want to be touched. But it’s exactly what you need right now, the gentle warmth of a hug that’s been wanting to be given, waiting to be received.

You lean forward and make your intent clear, wrapping your arms around his waist and burying your face into his chest. If he’s surprised, he doesn’t show it, immediately pulling you in and tightening his hold around you.

“You good, hon?” he says into your hair, face tilting downward to rest on the top of your head.

“Yeah,” you mumble, feeling the tension start to dissipate from your joints. You cling to him like a vice. “Please forget all the times where I complained about you being a hugger. Boy, did I need this.”

He lets out a quiet chuckle and starts to gently draw his hand up and down your spine. “You did? Well, I’m always glad to provide it.”

“Mhm,” you murmur, legs curling around his like you’re trying to hug him with every part of you. He stamps a kiss to the top of your head before slipping his hands under your thighs, hoisting you up till you’re wrapped around his waist. 

It earns a soft grunt from you before you’re relaxing into him, warmth seeping into your skin. He holds you with all the tenderness he would a baby.

“Your dress is lovely, by the way,” he mutters as he readjusts the jacket to cover your exposed ass. “You look absolutely lovely.”

“Thank you,” you mumble with a shy smile, tilting your face to rest it in the crook of his neck. 

He carries you back to his apartment, telling you all the things he’d wanted to say these past couple of days when you weren’t here for him to say it to. You decide that James is too lovely to let anxiety push away. You’ll probably phone him again sometime soon.

san’s christmas sleepover

[aurynsia]

Unrequited, Terrifying Chapter 7

James Potter x Reader

Summary: Your secret admirer finally gets the girl…

Warnings: HARD LAUNCH! Use of flashbacks, extremely fluffy, nervous!james x shy!reader, idiots in love, lovesick!james, no use of Y/N, OC!friends, reader is referred to with she/her pronouns, quiet!reader, NOT EDITED!

Word Count: 1.2K

Series Masterlist

Chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

Platform 9¾ was bursting with energy as the new group of first years clambered onto the Hogwarts Express. James had tucked himself in between Remus, Sirius, and Peter, practically jumping in his seat as he introduced himself to his new friends.

The four boys had excitedly rambled back and forth about their prospects at the exciting school of witchcraft and wizardry, only settling down when the train finally began to move as they waved goodbye to their families through the window.

The door slid open with an awkward creak, alerting the young Marauders to a small girl standing in the doorway. “Hi, um- can I sit here? The other cabins are full…” you spoke softly, twisting your feet in an anxious habit and biting your bottom lip.

James’ breath hitched, innocent eyes growing wide as he took you in. He nervously pushed up his glasses as his friends ushered you inside, moving food wrappers off of a seat to make room for your form.

You introduced yourself with a shy smile, promising not to bother them as you shoved your nose in a book for the rest of the journey.

James couldn’t help but ogle at your soft expressions, reacting to the exciting fantasy unfolding in between the pages of your novel. He gulped as his face grew visibly warmer, pushing up his glasses once more before turning back to his new entourage of mischief makers, already planning what would be their first of many pranks.

The Great Hall swarmed with chaos as students filtered in through gaping doors. The Sorting Hat had played in James’ favour, allowing all of his new friends into the house of brave hearted heroes.

He laughed with his friends as they stumbled to the Gryffindor Table, only distracted once again by the girl with the hat on her head. “Gryffindor!” The hat exclaimed, your eyes thrown wide with surprise as you tediously moved towards the four boys.

James grinned at you as you nodded in his direction, choosing to sit on the far end of the table with two girls who shared that stunned expression. When his attention returned to his three friends, he was met with a round of teasing coos and knowing smirks, causing him to sink down in his chair with a blush painted across his cheeks. The Sorting Hat really had answered all of his prayers.

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

You stood tentatively in the crowd of red and gold, etched between Charlie and Hope in the stands as your eyes curiously followed Gryffindor’s seeker.

The Quidditch pitch was filled with adrenaline as Slytherin rocked and tumbled against the force of the lion. James Potter was speeding through the mass of players, a joyful laugh permanently plastered on his face as he wove through the commotion.

Your red sweater was proudly on display in the stands, disguised as your warmest clothing when asked why you were in house colours. You didn’t dare tell your roommates about your newfound support for the team after the introduction of their newest fourth year seeker, but they slowly caught on as your blush began to match your clothing every time the boy flew purposefully close.

His laugh faltered with a gasp when he caught your eye in the stands, glancing at your attire that you failed to cover with your hands. Your eyes met for another brief moment before Gryffindor’s golden boy was soaring once again with newfound vigour.

Your gaze followed his figure in the air, a soft smile evident on your lips. Charlie and Hope leaned forward slightly to pass a knowing smile across your stiff form, only returning their gaze to the field as their house won the match.

The walk back to the common room was quiet, a soft hum of nature surrounding the three of you as you marched along the path. That was until Charlie’s curiosity got the better of her.

“So…Potter looked quite dashing up there, don’t you think, Hope?” She pretended to ponder, gaze to the night sky. “Why, he was really something! That speed made his hair quite an endearing mess, right, love?” Hope turned to you with a teasing smirk, patiently awaiting your flustered answer.

“Uh- yeah! Yeah, he was good, you know, for an egomaniac…” you kept your eyes fixed on the path ahead of you, praying to Merlin that your blush wasn’t visible in the darkness.

“Mhmm…he seemed quite taken by this little number of yours,” Hope gestured up and down your body, “maybe you want to fuel that pretty little ego of his, hmm?” You were surrounded by a chorus of amused chuckles from your friends as your face burned under the interrogation.

“No! Well, maybe…he looked cute in the uniform, that’s all! Nothing to write home about…” You pouted with furrowed brows, kicking a pebble in your path as your friends broke out in teasing cheers.

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

The Gryffindor table was filtered with soft morning light as your group eagerly grasped at any food they could get their hands on. James tucked himself securely into your side, a smug grin plastered on his face as you grumbled words of frustration, brows dipped and lips pouting at the lack of opportunity to serve yourself.

Sirius cheerfully loaded food onto his plate before passing the bowl to James, dodging your outstretched hands. Your look of frustration was about to shift to anger before the sweet boy beside you began scraping the leftovers in his grasp onto your empty plate. You turned to him with a grateful smile that he could stare at for hours, squeezing him around his middle in thanks before diving into your meal.

James continued to pile food in front of you, planting kisses across your cheeks between servings and spoonfuls before draping an arm across your shoulders. “Not so grumpy anymore, are you love?” James chuckled, “Maybe a certain boyfriend has lifted your spirits?”

You swallowed your mouthful as you nodded eagerly, looking up at him with wide eyes that melted his heart. “I think I’m finally getting this Gryffindor pride thing,” you mumbled as you reached for another spoonful of food, “Dating the captain of the Quidditch team is certainly an ego boost.”

James grinned at you, brushing his nose against your cheek with a mischievous expression. He was finally beginning to fall into a comforting routine with you, brushing aside any nerves your soft smile might ignite in him.

The others looked at the sweet pair with satisfaction, sharing looks of relief after you announced yourselves as an official couple.

“Merlin, it’s about time!” Sirius exclaimed, hitting the table hard enough to lift plates in the air at contact. The group laughed with amusement as James leant into your warmth, arms enclosed around your torso as he sighed into your skin.

The overbearing dread of unrequited, terrifying love that clouded his logic had melted away with your simple touch. This will be his year. The year he shares with you.

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

A/N: I hope everyone enjoyed this little series! While this is the official end to the story, feel free to request some blurbs based on these two characters in my asks! Thank you to everyone who patiently stuck with me while I worked on this, I’m eternally grateful for all your support <3

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

Taglist: @1-queenofpotatoes-1 @caspiankingofnarnia @thesuitelifeofafangirl @moonydoodlez @fionnalopez @kawaiiarbitervoid @kc2sstuff @rafeyswrd @mads12043 @spicybearnaise @ch3rry-vine @probabydeadbynow @ilovejamespottersomuch @mqg125 @sofiacblair @valenftcrush @revesephemeres @louweenier @the-lavender-girl @empath-bunny @bmyva1entine

[novvabee]

Training for the Ballet Potter?🩰

summary: James Potter x Reader, James takes a ballet class and crushes on the teacher (you)

cw: sexist remarks? it is kind of just gender stereotypes of ballet I guess, i didn't proof read this so just pretend it's good for me

word count: 2.6K

James thought that he might actually quit. This was ridiculous in every sense of the word. It was humiliating and a cruel punishment for sure.

His quidditch coach had the brilliant idea of signing the whole team up for ballet classes. Ballet, as in, turns and tiptoes and tights. This was emasculating to him, so beneath his training and dedication to the sport he should be practicing. 

His coach announced the classes on the last day of spring training. He stated that they were to attend every class until their season starts, no exceptions. He went on and on about how it would benefit the team to become more agile and graceful. But James didn’t understand the logic at all, he needed to be quick, strong, sturdy. Not exactly what ballerinas are known for. 

His coach emphasized the fact that these lessons were mandatory by stating that those who fail to attend would be cut from the team. He was not joking. A few of his teammates tried to protest, but his coach made the ultimatum. He said that if they wanted to be professionals and play on this prestigious team, they would learn grace and elegance in their training.

James loved and valued his position on the team, so he wasn't so fast to say no to these lessons. He was also trying to become captain of the team this year, and pretending to be excited and grateful for these lessons seemed like a way to earn him some brownie points.

So he pretended to the best of his abilities, he got the team together to encourage or change their attitudes, saying that it would be a great experience for the summer and that it was only three months of these lessons. Well, two lessons every week for three months, but that still wasn’t too bad.

When the coach overheard some of the team still complaining about ballet, he made them run and condition until half of them were throwing up. He was not here to play about these lessons.

“Got your leotard?” Sirius teased James from the couch. He had his head resting in Remus’s lap. 

James had lived with his two best friends since the end of school and he couldn’t be happier. Well, he could do with a little less of the making out and the groping he would catch every now and then, but he couldn’t blame them both, they were happy and in love. He just… didn’t need to see it all the time. And now, he didn’t need to be teased to add insult to injury.

“No.” James replied, rolling his eyes. He grabbed his red workout bag with his team’s logo from the opposite couch that his friends were sitting on and slung it over his shoulder.

“I think it’ll be good for you, Prongs,” Remus chimed in, “You could learn a thing or two about grace.”

James again rolled his eyes. He wasn’t in the mood, he was sore from yesterday’s practice, and was now about to prance around like an idiot for an hour.

“I just need to get through this,” James said. “I want to look good when my coach is choosing captains this season.” 

“Anything for that position, eh, Prongsie?” Sirius chuckled from Remus’s lap. “Look on the bright side though, you’ll be surrounded by fit girls in tight clothes and tiny skirts.” 

Remus smacked the top of his head for the comment, earning an ‘ouch’ and small apology. Remus rolled his eyes this time, annoyed by his lover’s crude statement.

James supposed that there was that to look forward to, he would never say it out loud like Sirius, but he was… intrigued by the idea. His male teammates were all put into the Monday/Wednesday classes with a strict teacher apparently. He was selected for the Tuesday/Thursday classes, which he found out were much smaller and taught by a new, younger teacher. A few of his teammates made sure to let him know how lucky he in fact was, the Monday/Wednesday teacher sounded like a hard-ass and a mean old witch.

Another bright side of the classes was that he would be with Marlene, one of his best friends on the team. If he had to endure this torture, he was glad to do it with her at least. It was actually Marlene who was picking him up so they could go to the lesson together. She should be here in about… now.

James bid farewell to his friends and raced out the door before any of the last minute teasing could make it to his ears, and rushed out to where Marlene was waiting in her car for him.

“Hey,” he greeted her, sliding into the passenger seat of her car which felt much too tiny for him to squeeze into. 

“Ready for the ballet Potter?” she giggled, wiggling her brows as she put the car in drive. James found it quite humorous, the two of them, going to their first ballet lesson. The two of them who look like they should keep far away from anything to do with ballet. James, who was a 6’1 burly man with all the elegance of a rhino and knocked into possibly every piece of furniture he owned on a daily basis, and Marlene, with chipped black nails and a self-cut mullet who looks like she would eat the posh little ballerinas for lunch.

Sooner than he would have liked, they reached the dance studio. Marlene parked and they both just sat there for a moment breathing in deep. He turned to her and saw the look that he himself was wearing. One of regret and annoyance. 

“Come on Marls, it's an hour and then we’re done.’’ James reminded her. 

She groaned but opened her door and slipped out.

They both made their way to the door of the building. He opened it and allowed Marlene to walk through first, pretending that it was just a courteous, gentlemanly thing to do, but in all reality, he was just holding onto any time he could have left not doing ballet.

He stepped into the building and into a crowded area with chairs and fake plants, a waiting room for the parents coming to pick up their little ballerinas from lessons. The waiting room was littered with moms scrolling on their phones and looking at their watches. Great.

James and Marlene had to wait for the teacher to come get them and escort them into the correct studio. Marlene plopped herself in a chair and motioned for James to do the same, but he just stood and lingered around the area.

James heard a door open and the chatter and giggles of many children. He heard many “Thank you miss Y/N”s and “Bye miss Y/N”s followed by a flood of little girls all dressed in colorful leotards and skirts filling the waiting room. The children all ran up to their respective mothers and told them about their lesson and how nice their new teacher was and that they all got stickers and how fun everything was. Some of the little girls eyed James and Marlene up and down, Marlene just stared back until the girls got scared and ran over to their adult.

As soon as the chaos broke into the little waiting room, it left. The last little girl put on her pink sparkly light up shoes and bounded out the door with her parent. This reassured everything that James had already felt; that this was useless, meant for little girls. Definitely not quidditch players, definitely not James.

He heard the door open again and turned to see a small woman, about his age, walk out with a clipboard. Her hair was pulled up into a bun. She was clad in a pink leotard and matching pink skirt, light pink tights, and pink ballet shoes. She was pretty, not in a typical perfect ballerina way, but in an entirely different way. James was definitely not expecting someone like her to be in a studio like this, let alone to be teaching.

Her eyes snapped up from what she was reading on her clipboard and instantly lit up.

“Oh hello!” she squeaked. “Are you two here for the 4:00 class?” 

“Uh, yeah.” James replied.

“Perfect! You’re right on time. I’m Y/N, by the way, I’ll be your instructor. You can follow me right in here to studio B.” she said, motioning them to follow her down the hall to the studio. Marlene stood and the both followed. “And here we are,” She said, turning on the light switch, allowing for a better view of the studio.

It was a very small room with light hardwood floors, mirrors lining the back wall. There were mats stacked up in the corner and two parallel bars mounted on the two walls without mirrors.

“You two can go ahead and set your stuff on the wall with the mirrors and then we can get started with stretching.” she announced chipper.

“Aren’t we going to wait for the rest of the class to show up?” Marlene asked from beside James.

“Oh no, you two are the whole class.” She smiled. “You can think of it more like a private lesson, more one on one.”

Private ballet lessons… Sirius was going to have a field day. He looked over at Marlene who just shrugged and made her way to the mirror wall to set her stuff down. James followed.

“It’s just us?” James whisper yelled to Marlene, trying not to let the instructor hear. 

“Is that a problem?” Marlene asked back. “She’s hot.”

James just huffed and pulled off his jacket, tossing it in his bag. 

“Look Potter, think of it this way,” She tried to reason with him, “Now there’s less people to look like an idiot in front of. All of the embarrassing moves will stay just between us three.” She smiled and James nodded his head, feeling like maybe it was a blessing to be in such a small class. “But… I can’t promise I won't make fun of you or use it against you.” She joked.

“Alright, are you both ready?” Y/N asked sweetly. They both nodded and made their way to the center of the room where she was waiting for them. “Alright first things first, welcome to ballet! My name is Y/N, you don't have to call me Miss or anything like the little ones do, just Y/N is fine” She said, her eyes glowing.

 Marlene was right, she was hot. But James wouldn’t be that forward about it, she was incredibly beautiful. If James could do with a touch of grace, she was bathed in it, dripping in it. She radiated confidence and elegance. James didn’t know what to do with his hands all of a sudden.

“I understand that your coach has signed you both up?” She asked. Marlene nodded in confirmation. “Ok, that is perfectly fine, we teach a lot of different athletes here at this studio. But in all honesty, I am a bit new to all of this,” She blushed, looking to the floor, “I mostly work with beginner classes and children so, bear with me.” 

She looked back at them and smiled. “Now, usually we require ballet shoes, but I won't require them for you two, socks or barefoot will be just fine.” she explained. “It is also better if you could wear things that are a little bit tighter. You don’t have to wear leos, but I need to be able to see the lines of your bodies better, so leggings, shorts, tank tops, those are all great!”

She was so cheery. Not only was she elegant and grateful, but kind and bubbly. James felt this warmth within the pit of his stomach now.

“Lastly, I want you two to have fun. I know that this is very different for you but, I promise I will make it as fun and educational for you so that you benefit the most that you can from this experience.” She finished, eyes sparking again.

“Alright with all that being said, let’s start our warm up!” she said.

Y/N led them through a series of stretches, most just like the ones they did at quidditch practice, others that were uncomfortable and pulled on his tight muscles. She assured them that with time, those stretches would get easier.

After, she led them to the bars mounted on one of the walls. She taught them the different positions of ballet; first, second, third, etc.. She taught them plies and releve, coupe and passe, and other French words he didn’t understand and would need to be repeated to him most likely all summer.

“Good Marlene.” James heard Y/N critique from where she was situated behind him. For all the gripe that she gave, Marlene was actually pretty decent at all this.

All of a sudden James felt hands on his abdomen and back, straightening his back into the correct posture. He was startled but continued on.

“There you go,” Y/N chuckled. “And..” she began but cut herself off by setting her hands atop his broad shoulders, pushing down on them. “You gotta relax, your shoulders are too tense. We don’t want them up by our ears,” She said, demonstrating to him by pulling her own shoulders up. “We want an elongated line from our neck and down our spine.” She explained, relaxing her shoulders and looking perfect. 

Next Y/N ran them through some basic turns and steps and they practiced by repeating them across the floor. James couldn’t believe this but, he was actually getting a pretty good workout. He was using muscles he didn’t even know he had, and he knew that if he dared mention that he was sore from ballet in front of Remus and Sirius, they would never let him live it down.

Time actually flew, and class was over before he knew.

“Great job today.” She said to them both, smiling as James caught her eye.

“I heard you give out stickers.” Marlene mentioned, mischief laced in her voice, making Y/N giggle. James loved the sound, decided that he wanted to do anything, everything in his power to hear that again. Hear it forever if he can.

She walked over to where her clipboard lay on the other side of the room, picked it up, then returned to where James and Marlene were now packing up. She peeled off a smiley face that said ‘awesome’ and placed it on Marlene’s shirt. Marlene smiled and started out the door. 

Y/N peeled another off, a star that said ‘you did great’ and placed it on James’s shirt. She pressed it into the fabric, making sure it stuck. James felt the warmth of her fingers radiate through his shirt and into his skin. 

He smiled at her and made his way after Marlene. He turned back to say “See you Thursday!”

She smiled back, waving goodbye to him and repeating that she would see them on Thursday.

Exiting the studio and climbing back into Marlene’s car, James couldn’t get rid of the goofy smile that etched itself into his face. Marlene looked at him and shook her head. “Don’t make it too obvious, Twinkletoes.” She mocked him with a new and reactive nickname.

“What are you talking about?” James asked, pulling his seatbelt on.

“Your little crush.” Marlene said plainly.

James wasn't going to deny it, so what if he had a little crush on the cute ballet teacher? She was gorgeous and so warm. He liked to see the passion in her eyes when she was explaining ballet to them. 

He couldn’t believe it and he would probably never say it out loud but he was excited for his ballet lesson on Thursday.

i wrote this cause I miss ballet and love the athlete x ballerina trope. also ballerinas are in fact athletes, dance is a sport ❤️🎀🩰 also please let me know if you would like to be added to any tag lists

taglist 🍓: @navs-bhat

[navierae]

Because I Missed You

CHARACTERS: James Potter x Reader Summary: An unexpected reunion with your old friends from Hogwarts causes your once buried feelings for the spectacled boy to resurface unexpectedly. a/n: bye this is my first time writing this long and for James Potter no less BUT WHO WOULDNT AM I RIGHT. anyway i hope you guys enjoy! likes, comments, feedbacks and reblogs are highly appreciated !! wc: 2.3k

“It’s the same old feeling back again, it’s the one they had way back when they were too young to know when love is real.”

“That would be $23.45.”

“Hold on,” I open my wallet to take the exact amount out and hand it over to the cashier, making sure that nothing falls, “Here you go.”

“I received the exact amount.” The cashier says, counting how much I gave before putting it in the register and handing over my receipt, “Come again.”

“Thank you.” I take the paper bag containing my groceries, trying to hide how I was slightly struggling with carrying it, my arm strength was something that I was never proud of, makes me glad that I use a wand for self-defense instead of my fists when need be.

I step out of the grocery store and start my journey back to the small apartment I know a few blocks away. It's been a few years since I graduated from Hogwarts, and a few months since I decided to live amongst the muggles. After that incident during 7th year, I thought it was in my best interest to distance myself from anyone who knows me or could possibly recognize me. Though I still keep in touch with some of them, namely Lily Evans, and to be fair, she's really the only I still talk to that has any relation to the wizarding world.

I make it halfway to my apartment when I spot the cafe I frequent during my free time. I need a break, I think to myself as I feel the dull ache in my arms starting to form from carrying my grocery bags. I push the cafe doors open, the smell of coffee and pastries immediately greeting me, as well as the sound of customers talking. My eyes scan the menu, trying to find something I have yet to order, before settling on the Jasmine tea and blueberry muffin. Turns out I'm not in the mood to try something new today.

I go to stand in line behind a group of men who seem to be my age, they're a bit loud if you ask me. Okay, scratch that, they're loud. A guy with the black hair is laughing loudly, and the brunette is pushing him by the shoulder, and the last guy is just looking away. I sigh, looking to the side, trying not to pay attention to them. Just order, pay, wait for it, eat, and then go ho-

“Y/n?”

What. I look back at the front to see who called me, the black haired guy now facing me, I quickly glance at his whole being before focusing on his face. There's no mistaking it, even after all these years, how can I forget him?

“Sirius?” I ask, eyes wide in shock, I didn't expect to see him here. What was he doing here? Wait, if he's here, then the other two are-

“Prongs, Moony, I told you it's y/n!” Sirius taps both of them on the shoulder with a grin on his face, they both turn around with shocked faces mirroring mine. “It’s so good to see you again, y/n! It's been a while hasn't it?” 

I nod with an unsure smile on my face, “Yeah, it has.” I look over them one by one, to see what had changed since the last time I saw them, which was at least three or four years ago now. Remus, who's smiling at me, and Sirius both hadn't changed much, except for the fact that Sirius’ hair is much longer and Remus sporting some scars that weren't there the last time I saw him.

And James… I turn to James and see him wearing the same glasses he wore back then, and the same boyish grin he gave everyone he would come across. His face had a shocked expression on before our eyes met, it turned into one with an awkward smile as he tried to mask whatever he was feeling at the moment. Disgust and the urge to leave as quickly as possible I assume. 

He opens his mouth to say something when the girl at the counter calls out the next customer, making him turn around along with Remus and Sirius, to give their orders. I stare at their backs, their voices mixing into the background, who would've thought I would run into them here out of all places? 

I focus my attention on them as they finish ordering with James paying and leaving to find a seat first, Sirius and Remus face me with hopeful smiles on their faces. “Are you busy? We were hoping we could catch up for a bit, who knows when we would see each other after this?” Remus asks, nodding his head to the direction where James went, eager to hear my answer. 

…That shouldn't be too bad right? Just a quick catch up then we'll be in our separate ways after this. I nod at them, their smiles growing as they leave to follow James. I step forward and dictate my order while reaching for my wallet, the girl behind the register stops me as I hand over the amount needed. 

“Oh, no need to pay, one of the guys before you offered to pay for whatever you would order.” I furrow my eyebrows before thanking her and walking away to where the boys were seated. “You didn't need to pay for me.” I say as I approached their table, James looks up from their conversation and makes eye contact.

“I know, but I wanted to.” He says smiling, not breaking eye contact, as if daring me to go against him. I stayed silent and stared at him for a few seconds, before saying thanks and sat down at the unoccupied seat. Which was, unfortunately, next to James. The table goes quiet, a somewhat awkward silence falling on us. I busy myself by playing with my fingers under the table and staring at the pattern of the table, when Sirius speaks up.

“So… how have you been y/n? No one has really heard from you since we graduated a few years back.” I look up and see all of them staring at me, the sight taking me back to Hogwarts, where they would be looking at me while listening to me rambling about my day. The only difference was we had grown older, our faces slowly losing our teenage features, being replaced with signs of aging.

I tap my fingers on the tabletop, following the rhythm of the music played by the cafe, wondering where and what to start with. I take a deep breath and open my mouth, deciding to say whatever I think about first.

“I’ve been doing pretty well, you know, with adjusting to living amongst the muggles and living life the way they do.” Smiling, I waited for them to answer after I asked the same question. Sirius says he’s been the lead singer for one of the muggle bands he joined, and that the band had a gig nearby. That explains why they were here in the first place, what were the chances that they would be at this particular cafe out of the numerous other ones that are spread around this town? 

Remus talks about how he became a professor at Hogwarts for Defense Against the Dark Arts, and shared how he would see Severus Snape from time to time and exchange glaring glances at one another. Our conversation was interrupted by our orders getting called to be picked up at the counter. I was about to stand up when a hand was placed on my shoulder, stopping me in place, his hand searing. 

“I’ll get it.” 

He said, smiling at me as he stood up, before walking off. The warmth from his hand had gone cold too quickly, taking it with him, it had only been a few seconds but I was starting to miss it- 

Stop that. Stop that right now. 

My eyes widened as I realized the words that had gone through my mind, that was a highly inappropriate thought about someone, your ex-boyfriend no less. I shake my head and put my focus back on Sirius and Remus in front of me, about to tell Remus to continue his stories while waiting for James to come back, which shouldn’t take him too long. But their eyes were somewhere else, I followed their gaze and saw James talking to a girl our age, well more like the girl was talking to James as he was trying to get our order. We were too far from the counter to hear what it was they were talking about, but judging from how the girl was looking him up and down, I was certain it was flirty remarks disguised as a casual conversation. 

“Ohoho, seems like Prongs has another one trying to get his number, huh Moony? Isn’t she, like, the fifth one today?” Sirius laughs loudly as he swings an arm around Remus’ chair, leaning forward to get a better view of what was happening, the latter just sighs and shakes his head. “Don’t forget to mention that it's only our second day here, and she’s the fifteenth one since yesterday. And I’m pretty sure they all tried to ask him on a date as well.” 

“All tried to ask him on a date”? Did he accept any of those offers? I mean, he doesn’t have a reason to not give one of them a shot, especially if they’re extremely attractive like that girl he’s talking to right now. Makes me wonder how many people asked him out the past few years. Wait, is he even seeing someone right now-

“y/n, stop staring at him so hard, you might burn a hole through him.” I snap out of my train of thought as Sirius taps the space in front of my hand, catching my attention. “You look like how you did when other people asked him out to the yule ball back at hogwarts.” He continued while laughing, my face falling at his comment. Had I been actually…? 

Remus gets startled as he notices the change in my facial expression, he slaps Sirius at his arm while telling him to cut it out, the latter letting out a small yelp at the impact. Remus turns to face me again, slightly hesitating, the next words that came out of his mouth made me grab my things and stand up. 

“But… Do you still like him, y/n?” 

“I’m leaving, it was good to see you guys.” I say as I start heading towards the door, making Remus and Sirius stand up while calling after me. 

Did I actually still like him, even after having no-contact for years? The question remained in my mind as I walked out of the cafe, missing the way James’ expression turned into one of panic when he spotted me going out. Excusing himself from the (one-sided) conversation the girl was having with him and rushing after me, forgetting about the orders. I hear someone yelling out my name, but I pay it no mind, instead opting to yell back. “I have to go, sorry!” 

“y/n, wait a minute!” 

A hand wraps around my wrist, the one that wasn’t carrying anything but my purse, stopping me from going forwards. I turn back and see James panting a bit, his hair ruffled from running, small beads of sweat starting to drip down the sides of his forehead due to the heat of his jacket. We both stopped in the middle of the walkway, no one speaking, the only sounds that can be heard were from around us and his breaths, his hand still keeping me bound to where I stood. 

After catching his breath, he stands up straight, making eye contact with me. “Why’d you leave?” He asks, his eyes searching mine for an answer. I shift and look away, pursing my lips, unsure of what to answer.

“I have things to do.” 

“But your order?”

“I can live without it.” 

Silence falls on us again, my answers rendering him unable to keep the conversation going, and getting the answers that would satisfy his curiosity. I was about to pull my wrist out of his grip, and excuse myself to leave, when he spoke up again.

“I missed you.” I look back at him upon hearing his straight-forward statement. He had missed me? 

“...You did?” He nodded, not missing a beat. Everyday ever since you left he adds. I didn't speak after that,I wasn’t about to let him know that I was the same as him, that there was also never a day that I never thought about him. 

“Can I have your number? So that we can hang out again after this, if you want?” 

“...Alright.” I nod and recite my telephone number, watching as he mouthed the numbers to remember, repeating it two more times. Cute. 

“I can, um, help you with that if you want? It's quite a lot.” He offers to carry some of my groceries, his head gesturing to the paper bags in my other arm. I shake my head, refusing his offer. 

“It’s fine, I can handle it. But, I really have to go now.” I tell him, turning my body away from him, taking my wrist out of his grip in the process. He wants to say something, but ultimately decides against it as he nods his head in understanding. 

“Okay… can we meet each other at this cafe tomorrow then?” He asks.

“I… don’t see why not. Sirius and Remus are also going to be there right?” 

He shakes his head. “No, just the two of us tomorrow.”

I furrow my eyebrows at his answer. Don’t assume things, y/n, ask him why first before you get ahead of yourself.

“Why?”

“Because I missed you.”

[talesof-old]

hi!! I'd love a James Potter x female! reader smut where reader finds James masturbating to a naked picture of her and then she rides him really, really hard to the point where he has the most AMAZING orgasm, tysm i hope you can write it!!

ahh i hope i did this justice!! this was supposed to be less than 1k words buuut… 🤭

a little longer | j.p.

pairing(s): james potter x fem!reader

warning(s): 18+, smut, piv, sub!james, riding, masturbation, masturbating to a photo of a friend, friends to lovers?, not proofread or edited

word count: 1.4k

masterlist

James’ bedroom door seemed to taunt you with each passing second.

You gnawed on the inside of your cheek. What would he say if you went in there? You’d sent an owl. He normally responded promptly, so you’d rationalized going to his house by telling yourself he could be hurt. His parents, after surviving a nasty bout of Dragonpox during his seventh year, had decided to spend more time traveling like when they were younger. Which meant James was home alone often. Sometimes he went with them, but with work, he had to stay in England the majority of the time.

You squared your shoulders and knocked on the door.

Unfortunately for the both of you, James’ door wasn’t actually closed. No, it had been cracked just the tiniest amount, which meant that as soon as your fist made contact with the wood, it swung open.

Your jaw dropped.

Sprawled out on his bed, fist wrapped around his red and throbbing cock, was James Potter. His head laid tilted back amongst his pillows, brow furrowed as he stroked up and down. Your lungs constricted. What the fuck were you supposed to do now?

James held something in his free hand, something small, that he brought up to his face and moaned. Your blood went hot, burning through your veins as you watched him struggle to orgasm. He bucked his hips, precum coating his trembling fingers. You sucked in a harsh breath. It was then that you decided to turn and leave, but the sound of the floor creaking had James looking over. And shooting upright.

“Merlin! What-“

James threw the sheets over his waist with his sticky hand. You grimaced. He’d caught you, what were you supposed to say? Sorry, but I do in fact want to keep watching. Please carry on! He looked stricken. Eyes wide and blinking furiously behind his glasses, you didn’t miss the tremble of his voice or the way he gripped the sheets.

“What are you doing?” Your mouth went dry as you struggled to form words.

“I just…” You averted your gaze, choosing instead to stare up at the ceiling and question everything that had led to this moment. “You didn’t respond to my owl?”

You winced as it came out more question than answer.

James huffed, running his clean hand over his wild hair. You pressed your lips together in a tight line.

“Do you… want help?” The words were out before you could stop them. The silence that followed threatened to deafen you. Everything seemed muffled by the sound of your heartbeat in your ears. James cleared his throat. “You want to?” You shrugged.

“I mean, why not? It’s just, we’re already so close it wouldn’t be weird, right?” Your nervous laughter didn’t match your words. James’ matching laugh was just as anxious. “Yeah, sure.”

You nodded slowly, bringing your gaze back to his. His lips twitched into a sheepish smile. Your heart started pounding all over again, your face burning with heat. He motioned you over and you followed, catching a glimpse of the photo he’d had in his hand. “Oh my god, is that me?” James shot forward before you could get a quick look, shoving the picture into his bedside table and slamming the drawer closed. “No, no, of course not.”

His ashen face and panicked eyes betrayed him.

“You were wanking off to a photo of me?” He rubbed the back of his neck, expression sheepish. You laughed. You’d both been tiptoeing around each other for ages, and this could be what finally gives you the courage to make him yours.

“You could’ve just asked me to come by.” James’ lips parted. “What?”

You moved the sheets aside, climbing onto the bed and straddling him. He just stared. You smiled, steeling your nerves, and grabbed his hands to place onto your body. His fingers pressed into your soft skin, unsure as you lowered yourself to grind on his bare lap. His nails dug crescents into your thighs. You placed your hands on his shoulders, leaning forward so your noses were almost touching. “Is this alright?”

He was almost frantic with his nodding, staring you dead in the eyes as you waited for him to move. He closed the gap, lips pressed hard against you. James deepened the kiss, moaning into your mouth like a virgin. “Is this real?”

You broke the kiss and giggled. “Do I feel real?” You slipped your hands between you and grabbed a hold of his dick. He gasped, nodding as his cock throbbed in your grip. He hissed when you swiped a finger over his slit. You pushed your underwear to the side and slowly eased him inside your cunt.

His head fell to your chest. Unintelligible murmuring reached your ears, James’ lips dragging across your skin. You let out a soft moan when he bottomed out inside of you. James nipped at the skin of your collarbone. “You feel so good f’me.”

James’ chest stuttered when you began to move, hips rolling. He fell back against the pillows once again. You places your palms on his chest, leaning into him as you rode him.

“Shit-“ James’ hips bucked up into you. You choked on a moan, practically mewling as he hit some spot deep inside of you. You clenched hard around him. James moaned; the sound was high pitched and breathy, more a whine than anything else. You smiled, finding a rhythm that was sure to have your legs unusable afterwards. James gripped your hips, fingers leaving behind marks. He thrusted up into you in time with your own gyrations. He was close, that much you could tell. His balls were drawn tight as they smacked against your body, and every movement had his cock throbbing inside of you. You squeezed your cunt around him.

James attempted to muffle his moan by turning his head into the pillow—it didn’t work. You laughed, leaning down and arching your back. The change in position left you breathless, eyes rolling back.

“Mhm-“ You focused in on his face.

“You feel better than I imagined you would.” James’ voice sounded strained as it reached your ears. You latched onto his left nipple, sucking hard on the skin before trailing down the planes of his abdomen. James moaned and writhed beneath you, babbling, hips faltering in their thrusts. You picked up your pace to compensate.

“I’m gonna-fuck I’m gonna cum-“ You slipped your hand between the two of you, fingers circling over your clit. A familiar knot tightened in your abdomen, your inner walls fluttering around James. The feeling sent him over the edge. Spurts of hot cum filled your cunt as you milked him through his orgasm, dragging your nails down his stomach. His back arched as you continued to roll your hips. Your clit ached as you switched to figure eights, frantic as you drew closer to the edge.

“It’s too much,” James thrusted up into you as he spoke. “I can’t-I can’t-“ You shushed him, urging him to sit up so you could kiss him. He complied, still whimpering as you pressed your lips against his. His glasses pressed harshly against your cheeks. His dick was still hard inside of you, enough that you knew you could bring him to climax again. You doubted it would take much.

“I know, Jamie, I know. M’gonna take good care of you, m’kay?” Your voice seemed disembodied, steady in a way that didn’t reflect the way you felt. You mewled as the knot inside of you pulled impossibly tight before snapping, sending you hurling off the edge. Your legs shook as your thrusting grew frenetic. James made some inhuman sound as his body threw him into another orgasm. You clenched down on him, tight enough that you could barely move, bodies pressed tight together.

You came down slowly, panting like a dog, limbs trembling. James looked broken in your arms: his eyes were so glassy that if you didn’t know any better you would’ve thought he’d either been crying or was drunk. You cooed at him, scratching the back of his head. He moaned weakly. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.” You wrapped your arms around him, resting his face in the crook of your neck while your bodies shook. He did the same, arms snaking around your waist to ground him. You hummed.

“We should probably clean up.” Amusement laced your words as James huffed, tightening his grip on you instead. “Or we could just stay here instead.” You laughed, wincing as your cunt twitched from sensitivity. Fluids dripped down your thighs. You cringed, though James didn’t seem to mind. “Just let me hold you a little longer,” he murmured against your skin.

You couldn’t argue with that.

+++

[crescenthistory]

Marauders Era Masterlist

💌 = fluff I 📭 = angst I 📬 = hurt/comfort I 📜 = smut I 🪧 = humour

࣪𖤐 regulus black

ִ ࣪𖤐 barty crouch jr

𖤐 remus lupin

ִ ࣪𖤐 sirius black

𖤐 marauders

includes: poly!marauders, james

𖤐 the slytherin skittles

includes: barty, evan, regulus, dorcas, pandora (& narcissa)

𖤐 the valkyries

includes: lily, mary, marlene (&dorcas&pandora)

[ticifics]

𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐝𝐨𝐨𝐫

── james potter x f!reader

summary: "I need someone to help with him until I wrap up this case. To pick him up from school and stay with him until I get home" At your silence, James felt his shoulders tense slightly. "I know it’s a lot—" "I’ll do it." "And Henry can really be a handful— Wait, what did you say?" "The job. I’ll take it."

tags n warnings: dad!james, neighbors, fluff, nanny!reader, police!james, muggle!au, no use of y/n, implication that the reader cooks well, age gap (late 20s/early 30s), suggestive, sometime in the 90s wc: 4k

To be honest, James hadn’t thought about you more than necessary. He knew you lived in the apartment next door, a distant niece of Mrs. Jones, who had cared for her in her final moments—may she rest in peace. He knew you cooked well; sometimes, the aroma of whatever you were preparing spiraled through the air into his apartment, making his mouth water. He also knew you were kind, sweet, always offering smiles and waves to Henry, sometimes even treating the boy to small sweets.

And he knew you were beautiful. Very beautiful. Always dressed in delicate clothes—fluffy sweaters, long skirts, little things with pearl buttons and ruffles. You always left behind a sweet fragrance wherever you passed. If James had thought about it, just if, he might have wondered if, instead of sleeping in a bed, you spent the night resting in a field of flowers, like one of those nymphs from fairy tales. With the pale moonlight kissing your skin, covered by nothing but the finest petals, a serene expression on your face, lips slightly parted, dreaming of little wonders. But James didn’t think about that.

He also knew you were young. Not an absurd difference, no—he guessed you were in your mid-to-late twenties, maybe a little younger than when he had Henry.

You two occasionally exchanged small courtesies. Nods, closed-lip smiles, the occasional good morning. Once, in the building’s hallway, you called out for him to hold the elevator. Which James promptly did, watching you step into the metal box, nodding when you shyly thanked him. As you rode up together, he tried not to notice the stray lock of hair that had come loose, swaying lazily against your nape. He clenched his fists at his sides, exhaling only when he stepped into his own apartment, closing the door as if it were more than just something material—as if it were a shield keeping him safe from his own thoughts.

That was all he needed to know about you.

And it wasn’t like he didn’t have problems of his own. Being a single father took up most of his time, and work was always kicking his ass, especially when a new case came up. The hours were irregular, there was always something to investigate, always. He couldn’t afford another distraction, even if he couldn’t help but steal a glance or two. The poor man wasn’t made of iron.

Stolen moments—that was all James could have.

A new homicide had occurred. They had found the mutilated body of a woman discarded in a dumpster—again. There was a killer on the loose in the city. Which meant more hours at the precinct, or in other words: James was screwed. Very screwed.

It wasn’t the first time something like this had happened, but it never stopped being stressful. A new case demanded time, attention—dedication. It meant less time with Henry. It meant always having to find a babysitter whenever he got stuck at work. It meant coming home to find his son already asleep, even though James had promised to tell him a bedtime story.

James hated disappointing his son.

So when a free afternoon appeared, he didn’t hesitate to take Henry to the park, determined to burn off every ounce of energy a seven-year-old could have. It was a pleasant afternoon, worry-free, filled only with their laughter and the sweet taste of ice cream in an attempt to cool down after running around.

“We should do this more often,” Henry commented, still holding his father’s hand while waiting for the elevator doors to open. They had arrived at the building a few minutes earlier. The boy’s hair—the same mess of unruly strands as his father’s—looked even wilder after an afternoon outdoors. “I like when we can be together,” he added, his voice low.

James felt a tightness in his chest. His jaw tensed as he looked at his son, still so small. He wanted to offer more—but more than anything, he wanted more time. James’s parents had passed away years ago, and now, Henry’s whole family was just him. With the addition of his uncles—Sirius, Remus, and Peter, though the first preferred to be called godfather.

“I know,” James replied, squeezing his son’s hand, ignoring the ache in his chest as he continued, “I like it too, but dad—”

“Has to work,” Henry finished for him, tilting his head up with a sad smile that didn’t reach his green eyes. “I know, I just… I just wish we could spend more time together.”

A bullet would have hurt less. James swallowed the lump forming in his throat, blinking a few times as he searched for an answer.

“I’m sorry, love,” James sighed. “I wish that too. But dad has to work—someone has to pay for these glasses since a certain someone keeps breaking them almost every month.”

Henry giggled, adjusting the frame on his nose. “We also need to pay for chocolate,” he reminded him.

“Oh, yes, all the chocolate this little monster has been eating.” James smiled, ruffling his son’s hair—somehow managing to mess it up even more. With relief, he noticed the boy’s smile was real this time. “When I solve this case, I promise we’ll have more time together. We could go on a trip, what do you think?”

“A trip?”

“Yeah. Interested?”

“Yes!” Henry’s grin widened at the thought, practically bouncing with excitement, but then he paused, looking at his father with a seriousness far too heavy for someone so young. “Promise?”

James crouched until he was at eye level with his son, looking at him with the same intensity before lifting his hand, pinky finger raised. “I promise, champ.”

Henry lifted his hand too, just as serious, as if he were about to sign the most important contract of his life. Pinky promises were serious business. “It’s promised—you can’t go back on it.”

“Not even in my dreams.”

When the elevator doors finally opened, something caught Henry’s attention, and he quickly slipped into the hallway. James sighed, rolling his eyes theatrically, mumbling, “Little traitor,” as he adjusted the strap of his bag over his shoulder before stepping out.

A few steps later, he saw what had caught his son’s attention.

You.

Standing in front of your apartment door, though it was impossible to tell whether you were coming or going. Slightly bent forward as you spoke with Henry, your back turned to James. He stopped mid-step, feeling his mouth go dry as he watched you. As always, you were wrapped in one of those pretty outfits that made you look like one of those fine pastries displayed in a shop window.

Henry liked you. It was hard to imagine a child who wouldn’t. He had mentioned you a few times before, a dreamy smile on his face as he told his father that you had given him some cookies or let him pet Mrs. Jones’s cat. Or—much to James’s eternal embarrassment—about the time Henry, in all his innocent curiosity, had asked if you were already somebody’s mom.

Since Mrs. Jones had passed away almost four months ago, you had become the only resident of the apartment next door. And you were desperate. Very desperate.

Your life had been turned upside down ever since you moved in, taking care of your aunt during the final years of her life. It had become a full-time job, and now that she was gone, you still hadn’t been able to find another one.

Apparently, your experience as a caregiver wasn’t enough to get hired. No one seemed willing to employ a young woman who hadn’t finished college. The money your aunt had left was running out, and the bills kept piling up. The electricity bill was overdue, and you hadn’t had a hot shower in weeks.

Desperate didn’t even begin to describe your situation.

You had been standing in front of your apartment for a few minutes, fingers gripping the doorknob as you tried to steady your breathing, counting to ten as you inhaled and exhaled, fighting against the sting in your eyes. It had been another afternoon of handing out résumés, receiving looks of false sympathy as you listened to the same explanations. The staff was full, the position had already been filled, you didn’t meet the qualifications.

It was always the same bullshit.

You didn’t even notice anyone approaching until Henry stopped in front of you, his doe eyes watching you carefully.

“Hey, sweetheart,” you forced your voice to come out, rubbing your eyes roughly with the back of your hands in an attempt to wipe away the tears. A weak smile curled the corners of your mouth as you asked, “Were you at the park? You have some grass in your hair.”

You reached out, a familiar gesture, removing the strand of grass tangled in his dark hair. He didn’t pull away, and although his cheeks turned slightly pink, his dark eyebrows were still furrowed.

“Were you crying?”

Your mouth fell open in surprise at the question. Sometimes, you forgot just how observant he could be.

You looked away for a moment, clearing your throat to push back the tremor in your voice. “No. No, it was just something in my eye.”

“Uncle Remy says people say that when they don’t want to admit they were crying,” he argued. “He also always makes me hot chocolate when I’m sad. Would that make you happy?”

Warmth spread through your chest at his words, easing some of the weight on your shoulders. When another smile curved your lips, this time it was genuine. But before you could respond, his father approached.

“Henry.” He placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder, gently pulling him closer to his side. “What have I told you about wandering away from me like that? And you can’t just go around approaching people.”

You looked up at James, breath catching in your throat. He was a few years older and lived next door. And you weren’t blind. Ever since you had moved in, you sometimes found yourself looking at him for a second or two longer than what was socially acceptable. But who could blame you?

He was kind, polite, an attentive father. And tall, and it wasn’t like those clothes hid the muscles underneath. It was a natural reaction, that’s what you told yourself sometimes. It was just a sign that you were alive.

Before you could stop yourself, the words floated out of your mouth. “You don’t have to worry about that, Mr. Potter. Henry is a sweetheart, he never bothers me.”

His gaze slowly shifted from his son to you. The way his brows furrowed was painfully similar to Henry’s. His eyes lingered on you as if searching for something. Your shoulders tensed involuntarily, wondering if that was the same look he had when he was investigating.

“That’s a very kind way of seeing things.”

You offered a small smile in response, watching as Henry squeezed his father’s hand. “Dad?” he asked.

“Yes?”

“She was crying.”

Your heart skipped a beat, embarrassment bubbling beneath your skin. “No, I wasn’t—”

“Dad, tell her she doesn’t have to cry.” James, surprised and speechless—possibly horrified—looked at his son, mouth slightly open. Henry, undeterred, simply continued, turning back to you. “My dad’s a police officer. He won’t let anything happen to you. So you don’t have to be sad. Right, Dad?”

You couldn’t bring yourself to look at James, your face burning. You wondered if it would be childish of you to wish for the ground to open up and swallow you whole.

“Henry,” James began, his voice tense, maybe even embarrassed. “Why don’t you go inside? You need a bath.”

“But—”

“That wasn’t a request, kid.”

Henry let out an exaggerated sigh, but when James opened the apartment door, he walked inside without further complaints, though his lips were pursed in a pout and his steps were heavy against the floor.

You bit your lip, still unable to meet James’s gaze. The silence between you stretched—thick, heavy, louder than the noise of a traffic jam. You wanted to crawl back into your apartment and pretend the last few minutes had been nothing but a delusion of your exhausted mind.

He was the first to speak.

“Sorry about that.” You hesitantly looked up, watching as he ran a hand through his unruly hair. “Henry… sometimes he can be really—”

You waved your hands dismissively, forcing a smile. “He’s just a kid. These things happen. No need to apologize.”

For a moment, you simply looked at each other. What was your next move? Your keys still dangled, forgotten, between your fingers. You should have gone inside by now. And yet, your eyes remained locked on his.

If you were a little closer, you would be able to see the edge of his contact lenses. His beard was unshaven, dark circles rested under his eyes, and his hair was in its usual state of perfect chaos. He looked tired, but no less handsome. Somehow, the evidence of sleepless nights only emphasized his features, making him more human—more approachable.

“I…” James started, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. His eyes scanned your face, lingering on the way your lashes were still damp, as if you really had been crying. He knew it wasn’t his business, but the question slipped from his lips anyway.

“Are you okay?”

You blinked, surprise flooding your features. Your mouth opened, the lie at the tip of your tongue, but no words found their way out—not when he was looking at you so genuinely, almost as if he truly cared.

Which made no sense at all. In all the time you had been neighbors, you had exchanged no more than a few words.

And yet, there he was. Standing in front of you, as if he was willing to wait as long as needed for your answer.

And it had been so, so long since someone had shown any kind of concern. Your lower lip trembled, and you recognized the familiar burning in your throat. Your eyes lifted, blinking once, twice, countless times in an attempt to keep the tears at bay.

"I... I just—" you sniffled, your voice too fragile to take shape. A melancholic smile curved the corners of your lips as you wiped your eyes, feeling more miserable than ever for crying in front of your handsome neighbor. "S-sorry, this is so pathetic. I-I really—"

His hand landed on your shoulder, a comforting weight. The warmth of his palm seeped through the fabric of your blouse. You looked up at him in the same second, your heart tightening under the weight of the concern on his face.

"Hey, don’t be so hard on yourself. Did something happen?" he asked, his voice low, his eyes scanning over you as if searching for any injuries. "Did someone do something to you?"

You shook your head, still not trusting your voice enough to answer. James watched the way your throat bobbed as you swallowed. He had never seen you like this—so fragile, so vulnerable, like you were about to break at any moment.

He didn’t like seeing you like this.

"Is there anything I can do?" he asked again, his fingers pressing gently into your shoulder, as if to emphasize his words. The feeling of touching you was still new, making his fingers tingle, even now, as he pulled back. When his gaze started to drift away, he called you again, his voice barely above a whisper. "You're not alone."

"T-thank you, Mr. Potter, but I don’t want to burden you with my problems."

"James."

"What?"

"Call me James, please. And you won’t be burdening me, I promise."

You sniffled again, still unsure how to deal with the weight in his eyes. It was easy to understand why he was a detective. It was easy to trust him.

Fighting the urge to wring your fingers, you exhaled, surprising yourself when you finally spoke. "I don’t think you can help me, Mr. Pott—James," you corrected, feeling your face heat up. "Unless you know of a place hiring someone without references."

James wondered if you could hear the gears turning in his head. It was an idea—a terrible idea. But it burned through his mind like the death of a star. It was the easiest solution to two problems. You raised an eyebrow at the expression on his face.

He wetted his lips, hesitating for only a second before speaking. "Actually, I... uh, I do."

"Really?"

James nodded in response, watching how your eyes lit up with hope. "Yeah, but..." He glanced down the empty hallway first, then back at the way your clothes were slightly rumpled after an afternoon at the park, as if carefully considering what to say next. "Can we meet in twenty minutes? To talk about it."

You nodded, hoping you didn’t seem too eager. If he really found you a job, it could be in the depths of hell, and you wouldn’t care.

James gave a short nod before stepping back through his door. You took a deep breath, sniffled one last time, then straightened your shoulders and stepped inside.

Gigi, the cat, barely waited for you to set foot inside before curling around your legs, nearly knocking you over in the process. She must be hungry.

You poured some food into her bowl before checking that everything was in order. James had never been inside, and that made you a little nervous. With nothing else to focus on, you put a kettle on the stove.

Twenty minutes later, a knock sounded at your door. Your heart skipped a beat. Forcing your legs to move, you crossed the living room, ignoring the slight tremor in your fingers as you opened the door.

"Hey," James greeted with a small smile.

His hair was still slightly damp, a strand falling over his forehead. He had changed clothes, now wearing a white shirt that stretched just a bit across his chest, his forearms exposed. He smelled like soap and clean skin. You quickly dismissed any thoughts your mind tried to entertain.

"Hi," you replied, stepping aside to let him in.

Once James entered, you shut the door. He watched as you took the lead, walking back into the living room with small steps. Unable to help himself, his eyes wandered around the space—light-colored walls, countless books stacked on a shelf, delicate curtains. It was a feminine place, well cared for.

"Would you like some tea?"

James blinked, processing your words. "Oh, sure. Please."

You disappeared into the kitchen for a moment, and when you returned, James was still standing in the same spot, as if his feet had grown roots into the floor. It felt strange having him here, as if the place was too small to contain him.

"Please, have a seat," you motioned toward the couch with your chin. James obeyed promptly, sinking into the plush cushions, watching you place a tray on the coffee table and expertly pour two cups of Earl Grey. His eyes followed the movements of your hands, the way your fingers looked so delicate.

"How do you take it?"

"Sorry, what?"

"Your tea, how do you like it?"

"With cream and two spoons of honey, please."

When you handed him the cup, your fingers brushed by accident, sending a shiver down his spine. James cleared his throat, taking a sip, the rich, sweet taste spreading across his tongue. It was perfect.

He sighed, a sound of pure satisfaction, as he took another sip. "Thank you, this is perfect." A small smile curved his lips in gratitude. "But I know you’re interested in what I came here to say."

You waited, feeling the warmth of the cup between your fingers. He wetted his lips. "I know this might be an unusual situation, but when I said I knew someone who was hiring... that someone was me."

James watched as surprise crossed your face, so he continued, "A new case came up, and it’s taking up most of my time. Finding a reliable babysitter isn’t exactly easy. I know we don’t know each other very well, but I saw how you cared for Mrs. Jones. I see how you treat Henry. He adores you."

"I need someone to help with him until I wrap up this case. To pick him up from school and stay with him until I get home. You’d have the mornings to yourself, unless something urgent came up at the station." At your silence, James felt his shoulders tense slightly. "I know it’s a lot—"

"I’ll do it."

"And Henry can really be a handful— Wait, what did you say?"

"The job. I’ll take it."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course. I mean, we're neighbors, I wouldn’t mind staying with Henry a little later. And I think I can handle it—he's really adorable."

James looked surprised, genuinely surprised. "I, uh… I didn’t expect you to accept so easily."

A nervous smile curled your lips as you remembered the growing pile of bills. "I'm kind of desperate right now."

"I'm really sorry about that."

You shook your head. "It’s not your fault."

"I still feel sorry."

"Thank you." To soothe your nerves, you took another sip of tea. "So, when do I start?"

"Tomorrow, is that okay for you? Great, this is really wonderful."

"You don’t, uh… want my résumé or something?"

"Actually, I’d be happy just with your number." Seeing the way your face heated up, he quickly added, "In case of an emergency, so I can call you."

Oh.

Oh.

Of course, that was the reason. You mentally cursed yourself for daring to think otherwise.

You leaned forward, reaching for the stack of papers on the coffee table. "My résumé has my number on it anyway."

James took the sheet, his eyes scanning over the printed details. Address, phone number, full name, date of birth—ten years, you were nearly ten years apart. But what really caught his attention was the photo. It was just a simple picture, but his eyes lingered on the way the camera had captured you. He resisted the urge to run his fingers over it.

You went over a few more details—schedules, salary, responsibilities. It was almost hard to believe this was real, that you had finally found a job. Even if it wasn’t permanent, at least it was something, and with free mornings, you could keep looking for something else. And you liked Henry—he was a truly sweet boy. Taking care of him wouldn’t be a burden at all.

You walked James to the door, feeling lighter than you had in weeks. "Thank you for this opportunity. I promise I’ll do my best."

"I know," he smiled, stretching out his hand toward you. You took it, feeling the way his fingers were slightly rough and firm around yours. You didn’t notice the way James looked at your joined hands, how he seemed to study the way they fit together. He exhaled, finally lifting his gaze to yours. "See you tomorrow."

"See you tomorrow," you repeated with a broad smile, having no idea what was ahead of you.

[aisiedaisie]

Take The Lead

Summary: The next season of Dancing with the Stars is just about to begin. As a professional dancer, it’s your job to turn non-dancers into performers— and this season is no different. However, the first time James Potter walks into the rehearsal studio, all easy confidence and bright eyes, you find yourself tripping over your own feet for a change.

Pairing: Athlete! James × Dancer! Reader

Tags: DWTS!AU, Athlete James, Dancer Reader, sweet fluff, sweaty bodies, lighthearted tension, I know a bit about dance but not enough to claim total accuracy!

Notes: This is my first time writing again since starting to feel better, so I’m a little nervous to post this. However, I am really excited to get back into writing. Especially with this idea! I’ve loved Dancing with the Stars since I was a kid. I’ve taken all kinds of dance classes— jazz, contemporary, ballet — but that was when I was much younger. I might get a few things wrong, but I hope the heart of the story still comes through.

WC: 1.5k

Part 1 |

You sit cross-legged on the hardwood floor, dressed in sweatpants and a faded band tee that slips off one shoulder. The logo’s barely visible now— cracked and worn from years of washes— but you like it that way. Comfortable. Familiar. Exactly what you need right now.

Your body eases through slow stretches, each movement deliberate, grounding, even as your thoughts feel anything but. Three cameras blink quietly from the corners of the studio, ever-watchful. The only other person in the room is a cameraman stationed by the door, adjusting his lens with quiet focus. Occasionally, he glances toward the door like he’s waiting for something.

You are too.

Today’s the reveal— the day you find out who your celebrity partner for the season is. No more guesses, no more hopeful whispers. Just a name. A face. A first impression that could shape the next several months of your life.

No big deal…

Your stomach tightens. Excitement stirs beneath the nerves, but there's pressure too. Heavy, familiar. Last season was your first as a pro, and it didn’t exactly go to plan.

You barely made it a few weeks before being voted off.

The memory still lingers, a little too sharp around the edges. Lucius had been technically skilled, sure— but proud. Resistant to critique. 

He wore every comment like a personal insult, and the audience noticed. His frustration leaked into every rehearsal, every live show. People online were quick to call him “ungrateful.” And if you’re honest, they weren’t wrong.

You remember the week you ended up in the bottom two— heart pounding, hands clammy, adrenaline buzzing in your ears. Lucius stood beside you like stone. No encouragement, no comfort. When your names were called he barely looked at you. 

You walked off stage with relief in your lungs and tension still weighed down on your shoulders. While he walked off the stage beside you like he knew there was no way he was going home.

Yet the very next week he wasn’t so lucky.

You let out a slow breath, as if you can exhale that whole experience with it. That was last season. This one’s a blank page. A clean slate. And you want— need— to believe it’ll go differently this time.

You sit up and pull your hair into a messy ponytail, the elastic snapping into place with a familiar tug. For a moment, the nerves settle, just a little.

You’re just tightening your ponytail when the door clicks open.

It’s not loud, but it cuts clean through the quiet of the practice room and the noise in your head.

You pause mid-tug, breath catching in your chest.

Across the room, the cameraman straightens, lens lifting instinctively. You don’t look up right away, but you feel it— that shift in the air. Like something's about to begin.

And then you hear his voice.

“Hope I’m not late.”

It’s casual. Easy. Like he’s done this before.

You look up— and there he is.

James Potter.

Tall. Broad-shouldered. Dark curls slightly damp, like he’d showered and didn’t bother to dry off properly. He’s wearing black joggers and a loose white tee that clings just enough to make you aware of it, beat-up sneakers scuffed heavily at the toes. A crimson duffel bag hangs from one arm, a large water bottle dangling off the strap.

But it’s the smile that gets you.

Bright.

Boyish. 

Like he’s walked into a friend’s kitchen instead of a dance studio.

He spots you and grins, like this whole moment was something he was looking forward to.

“You must be my partner,” he says, nodding toward you like you’re already a team.

You blink. 

Once. 

Twice.

You’ve seen him before— interviews, magazine covers, game highlights playing on TVs in crowded cafés. But none of it really prepares you for James Potter in real life.

He’s a little taller than expected. And somehow he is more charming in motion.

“That’s me,” you manage, pushing yourself up from the floor and brushing your hands on your sweats, hoping to wipe away the nervous energy more than anything else. “Looks like you’re stuck with me for the season.”

His grin deepens, dimples flashing. “Stuck?” he echoes, head tilting. “Nah. I’d say I hit the jackpot.”

You arch a brow, but the smile creeps in anyway. “Flattery already?”

“Strategy,” he shoots back, dropping his duffel by the wall. “Figured I’d butter you up before I start stepping on your toes.”

You laugh— quiet and surprised by how easy it is to do.

There’s something disarming about him. Like he just… fits. And without even trying, pulls you into his orbit.

He crosses the studio and holds out a hand. “James,” he says. “Officially. But you probably guessed that already.”

You take it. His grip is warm, solid. Confident without being cocky. There’s a steadiness under all that easy charm— something grounding.

“I did,” you say, nodding. “I’ve seen you play.”

Then, with a small, nervous laugh, “I usually watch women’s football, but during the season it’s kind of impossible to avoid clips of you… everywhere.”

James lets out a breath. “Excellent. That means the hard part’s over. Now I just have to survive dance rehearsals without making a complete fool of myself in front of you.”

You huff softly, but your chest feels light. There’s a flicker of something there— recognition, maybe. Or just a small, stubborn hope fluttering gently in your chest.

He glances around the studio, then back to you. The grin is still there, but now there’s something earnest behind it.

“Last season didn’t do you justice,” he says. “I watched, you know— my roommate’s obsessed with the show. Honestly, I thought he’d be the one asked to join, but… guess I got lucky.” He flashes a sheepish smile. “Anyway, I really think we’re gonna have a great season.”

You freeze— not because you disagree, but because no one’s said it like that before.

Like they really mean it.

You smile– small, but sincere. 

“Yeah, I think we might.”

“Now,” you say, breaking the small silence as you lead him further into the studio, “how familiar are you with dancing?”

James follows without hesitation, falling into step beside you. “Other than dancing at weddings?” he grins. “Not much. Unless you count that one time I tried to learn the worm in uni.”

You huff a soft laugh and shake your head. “That absolutely does not count.”

“Shame,” he says. “I was hoping to open the season with it.”

You roll your eyes playfully, already making a mental note: athletic, quick on his feet, but very little formal technique. Still— there’s something about his posture, his ease of movement. There’s potential there.

“You’ve watched the show, right?” you ask as you settle into the center of the room, motioning for him to do the same. “Is there any dance you’d want to avoid? Not that you really can,” you add with a grin, “but it’s good to know. Gives us time to plan.”

James hums thoughtfully, then scratches at the back of his neck. “My roommate— Sirius— he’s obsessed with this show. Made me binge half a season with him once we found out I was doing it. He said the tango and… the paso doble?” He winces unsure if he got the name right.

You nod, amused. “Yeah, that’s the one.”

“He said they’re intense. All sharp movements and smoldering eye contact or something like that.” James makes a dramatic face, narrowing his eyes and puffing out his chest. “He said I’d look constipated instead of sultry.”

You snort, covering your mouth. “Okay, well, that’s fair. They are harder dances. Especially for beginners.”

James lets the fake glare drop and relaxes again, giving you a sheepish shrug.

“We’ll push those toward the back end of the season,” you assure him. “Hopefully by then, you’ll feel more confident.”

He nods, relief flickering behind his grin. “Appreciate that.”

“I was thinking,” you say, turning toward the speaker system and cueing up your playlist, “we’d start off with something a little more fluid. A Viennese waltz. It’ll get you used to being in frame, learning posture, and working on flow.”

“Viennese waltz,” he echoes, as if trying the words on for size. “Sounds fancy.”

“It’s more romantic than fancy,” you say, glancing back at him with a small smirk. “But don’t get any ideas.”

James gasps dramatically. “Me? I’m the picture of professionalism.”

You raise a brow, unimpressed. “You’re wearing shoes that look like they lost a fight with a lawnmower.”

He glances down. “These are vintage,” he argues. “Adds character.”

With the shake of your head you press play letting the first soft notes of a piano introduction fill the room. You step toward him, holding out a hand.

“Alright, Potter,” you say. “Let’s see what we’re working with.”

James eyes your hand like he’s about to accept a royal scepter, then takes it carefully. “Be gentle with me.”

“No promises.”

[dearest-nell]

homebrew.

j. potter x reader, 3.6k

summary: james wants to do something nice for the reader. best friends to lovers, mentions of reader menstruating, james being a big softie

a/n: this is the first time i've written in a long while, so hi there! nice to be back

It was safe to say that today was somewhat of a write off, at least in your own humble opinion. The familiar blunt pains of your period shook you from an already groggy, restless slumber, cyclically pressing somewhere deep inside you until you were drawn into a terrible state of nausea. You could feel the deep bruised marks hanging low beneath your eyes, hard earned and unwelcome, marring your already paler than usual complexion. You had avoided the mirror entirely, knowing something sallow would be the only reflection waiting. 

It was battle enough to make your way down the stairs from your dorm, your head hanging low as you ghosted your way towards an already raucous common room. Heavy eyes landed on the two familiar figures seated in the corner, and even in your dreary state, you couldn’t keep the small smile that tugged on the corners of your lips. James sat comfortably, splayed across the couch in his usual unapologetic stature, arm hanging heavy across the back, legs parted wide, head tipped back in laughter at something Sirius had surely uttered before your arrival. Sirius seemed much the same in his own right, though you took less pains to notice. James always seemed to snatch your attention, after all. It was his effect. 

You felt no need to greet the boys as you settled slowly beside James, slouching into the crook of his arm with entirely too little consideration, dropping your head to his shoulder with a distracted sigh. It was normal, after all, this kind of thing. James had always been affectionate by nature, and you craved the intimacy he had to offer more than you would ever admit. 

James moved in an automatic response, his arm swiping to encase you in his hold as if that was how it was always meant to be. He couldn’t see the little furrow on your brow, not properly, but he could feel the tension that held each and every muscle in you tighter than a bowstring. 

“Mornin’ there, sweetheart.” He chuckled, squeezing at your side affectionately only to receive a mumbled reply in turn. His brow rose towards Sirius, a silent conversation passing between them over your head. 

Sirius cocked his head. “Didn’t sleep well then, I take it.” 

You shook your head, closing your eyes to block out the light. Migraines were easily built when you were already in such a delicate state, and the widely opened windows of the tower had played the villain on you this morning. Ordinarily, the sunlight would have been worth a warm welcome, but this morning you had only wished for rain. 

James tutted beside you, his free hand inching to brush back the hair that had crowded your face, the back of it pressing gently against your forehead. James didn’t need to excel in divination to know that something was off with you, you certainly weren’t trying to hide it, but it now had become his own little mystery to solve — a distraction from the rest of his day. There was no temperature, though, so he hoped he could at least rule out a trip to Pompfrey.  “You feelin’ alright there?” 

You breathed out a soft yeah, though neither of the boys were too convinced by the answer.  

“You’re really gonna make us jump through hoops for it, aren’t ya.” Sirius teased, earning a narrowed, piercing glare from your tired eyes. 

“You don’t want to know, Pads.” 

Sirius shrugged, unphased by the response, and leaned back in his arm chair with his usual sort of smugness. 

James tried again a little softer, resting his cheek on the crown of your head. “Try me, then. You wouldn’t keep a secret from me, would you, love?” 

You were sure James couldn’t have known the effect that little nickname had on you, and you felt the familiar warm tug of your affection towards him slowly water down your reluctance to share. 

“It’s not a secret, Jamie. It’s just that time, y’know? I usually make a stock of potions and I just forgot, so I’m feelin’ a bit…” you trailed off, angling your face up slightly so he could see your queasy expression. “It’s nothing to write home about.” 

“Well in that case,” Sirius emphasised, pushing broad palms into the plush  arms of his chair to hoist himself up, “I’m going to go track down our other little monthly invalid. I’d rather face Moons than this one.” 

Sirius didn’t need to look back to see the vulgar motion you tossed his way, though James couldn’t help the chuckle that rippled from him as he watched you burrow in deeper after. 

“Can I do anything, then?” James queried, rubbing circles into your side with the warmth of his palm. “You look like you really ought to go back to bed.” 

“Can’t.” You grumbled, nuzzling your cheek against his shoulder. “I promised Dorcus I’d help her with her essay.” 

Besides, you knew this was par for the course. How many people in the world faced the same battle as you and soldiered on — you didn’t feel like it was enough of an excuse when a third of Gryffindor tower was likely menstruating right along with you. Communal living, what a gem… 

“I’m sure she’d understand.” James offered, furrowing his own brow in thought. He didn’t  like there being a problem he couldn’t fix, and more so, he didn’t like you having a problem that he couldn’t fix. You were his little love, after all, his very best friend, it was his job to take care of you whether you wanted it or not. 

How the two of you weren’t in a relationship was anyone’s guess, and a frustration that plagued all of your friends and acquaintances to no end. You never sat like this with the others, never used such darling terms of endearment for the rest of the gang. Yours and James dynamic was something entirely of its own; too sweet and tender to be just friends, and yet never classified as anything more. You wouldn’t argue it, though, not when it allowed you this kind of closeness with him. If this was all you would ever get, then you would take it gladly. 

“She would, but I’m going anyways.” There was a decided tone to your voice that James knew would be a losing battle to argue with, so with a gentle sort of sigh, he focused his attention on a new objective. 

“So what’s the potion, then? Can I go buy you some?” 

You wrinkled your nose at the question, well aware that James was a dog with a bone at the best of times. It was sweet of him to offer, but the last thing you wanted was to feel helpless. You’d survived this long, after all, and the idea of you putting James out of his way was one you wished to avoid.  “It’s okay, Jamie. I’ll make up a batch tonight or tomorrow, or somethin’. You don’t need to do anything.” 

James would’ve knocked your martyr complex right out of you if he could, but that wasn’t his way. Besides, your stubbornness made up a part of you, and he loved all of you too much to ever want to change that, even if it was a pain in the neck. 

“You know I’m useless on my own. Maybe I’m bored and want something to do, hm? You don’t know.” 

He was being cheeky, and he had the shit eating grin to match it. That sort of energy always seemed to ripple off of him, settling a warmth into your bones that eased you somewhat. 

You managed a small, amused chuckle. “Then I’m sure the boys’ll have plenty to keep you busy today. I just wanted a hug before I was on my way.” 

“Oh yeah?” James’ voice was delighted as he circled his arms tighter around you, pressing you against the heat of his body with expert hands, fingertips massaging into your back and waist with reverent touches. “James hugs makes it all better, don't it.” 

With a scoff at his ego, you allowed yourself a moment to soak it all in – this closeness and intimacy that you wished you could bottle. James was the perfect boyfriend, after all, even if he didn’t belong to anyone. There was never a day where his friends did not feel the weight of his love, of his affection and regard. It felt almost greedy to want more from the man who gave so freely. 

But you did. You always wanted more of him. 

“Yeah they do, you smug bastard.” The teasing lilt was not lost upon him, and it only made James squeeze you tighter. 

“Y’know, I figure maybe I just won’t let you go. Then you’d have to rest right here where I can make sure.” 

You thought about biting him – you really did – just because it was cheeky and you knew it would make him laugh. Your restraint, however, could only be considered admirable, and instead you moved to pinch at his side with a sneaky manoeuvre, one that would unfortunately cut this perfect moment short. 

He yelped in surprise, his grip loosening enough for you to begrudgingly slip out of. It ached a little to see the way he was still reaching for you, trying to pull you back down to his side. Your traitorous, bleeding heart couldn’t help but hope that maybe he craved your touch as much as you craved his. But once again, James had nothing but adoring smiles for you, feeling all too bested in his own game. 

“Careful, love – if they see you moving that quick, I might have competition on the Quidditch team.” 

You shrugged, smiling a little coyly. “It won’t be my fault if they put you out of business, James.” 

He huffed out a laugh, clutching at his chest with enough melodramatics to level the castle. “You’re breakin’ my heart.” 

You tilted your head softly. “Don’t miss me too much. I’ll see you later, okay?” 

His soft okay was enough for you to be on your way, though if you had heard his little, woefully mumbled I miss you already, then maybe you’d have turned back around. 

-------✿-------

Dorcus had been supportive enough during your studies, much to no one's surprise, but even she could tell that this round of pains seemed far more severe than usual. You spent the better part of the session hunched over your library desk, legs curled up beneath you in some feeble attempt to ease the pain. The heated pillow behind you helped somewhat, but by the mid afternoon, it was starting to feel like a losing battle. 

Once the bulk of the work was over, you resigned to give in, sending yourself back to the common room with a huff, energy far too spent for you to even consider making another round of potions. Pomfrey tried her best to keep a steady stock at all times, but between unsure first years whose potion making skills were not refined enough for such delicate casting and older students who were lazy enough not to bother, her supplies had once again been depleted, much to your chagrin. 

It left you with nothing to do but burrow deep down into the warmth of your duvet, hooking the blanket over your head as you drifted into another groggy, all too short sleep. Even with noise muffling and light repellant spells, your body could not seem to comply, and within the hour you were back on your feet again, lazily pulling together something warm and cosy to wear down to the common room once more. 

It was only when you opened your door that you noticed the small package at your feet, wrapped up prettily in a crimson ribbon that felt far too festive for something so mysterious. 

There was no note attached, no sign of where the gift had come from, but with a steady hand you unravelled the packaging, opening your gift to discover twelve identical potion bottles stacked neatly in rows, a small card tucked carefully in between that read your name in a scrawled writing. By sight you could identify the contents – the familiar purple tinge was one you had learned to identify from Pomfrey herself – though you were sure she wouldn’t have had the time to brew a new batch from when you last saw her only an hour beforehand. 

Chewing your lip, you pondered the possibilities, hooking the gift under your arm as you slowly descended the stairs to find the culprit. Of course, you were certain there was only one person who might have been responsible. James had been all too eager to help, after all, and far too free on his Saturday to be left to his own devices. The handwriting was unfamiliar, sure, but it wouldn’t have been the first time he’d attempted to throw someone off his trail that way; he was a prankster at heart. 

Even now you found him perched happily by the fire, wrapped up in his favourite armchair, eyes drifting lazily across the pages of a book in hand.Coming up from behind, you leaned yourself over the back of the chair, elbows holding you up as you watched him examine the box now resting in his lap.

 “So you’ve been busy today.”

Without missing a beat, James rated his head back onto the plush back behind him, smiling up at you with an innocence that seemed all for show. “Me? Well I’ve been trying to read, yes, though I wouldn’t call that busy.” 

“Oh? So you’ve got no idea what these are, then?” Your tone was nothing if not incredulous, but what was the harm in humouring him in something like this. 

James shrugged, passing a quick glance over the box in question before turning his eyes back to you. “Potions? Are they more of the ones you need?” 

Your lips curved as he feigned his innocence, though the smugness that seemed to tug at the corner of his lips betrayed him. He’d never been a good liar, after all. James was earnest to the bone. 

“You know, it’s funny, I couldn’t really say. There’s no labels, you see, and no note, so who is to say what they are.” You paused, gasping softly for a sort of dramatic effect, cupping your cheek with one hand as your eyes widened comically. “Oh no! They could be a nasty prank, now that I think about it. Probably best not to drink them…” 

You watched it live, that flash of regret that passed before his eyes as he realised his mistake. He tried his best to cover it, clearing his throat and adjusting in his seat, eyes blinking up at you nervously. 

“Or it’s just… I mean it doesn’t look all that harmful, does it? Who’d wanna give you a rotten potion anyways.” 

You levelled your gaze at him. “Literally anyone that you share a room with, Jamie. I don’t need my hair falling out or my words coming out in Pig Latin, so I think I’ll pass.” 

James reached up for you on instinct, his fingers curling around the meat of your forearm with a tender sort of touch, his gaze somewhat imploring now. 

“Or you could just drink it, for… fun.” 

“Fun?” You quirked a brow, smile widening at this little game that you were sure to win. “Why would I do that?” 

James huffed. “Yeah, fun. I think they look fine, so maybe you should just—” 

“James.” 

He’d been backed into a corner and he knew it, though his little sigh of defeat did nothing for him to remove his touch from your arm. He spoke with a gentle whine, frustrated that the game was now at an end. “You’re really gonna make me say it, huh.” 

“I don’t know why you don’t want to. It’s really sweet of you to find me some, though I don’t know how you managed twelve; the school seems tapped.” 

You shrugged your arm gently, enough to shake him from his grip so that your fingers could settle between his own, locking into place with such ease and familiarity. James’ gaze followed suit, watching the way his hand seemed to dwarf your own. 

“It is. Pomfrey’s out and the girls didn’t have any to spare, so I just made ‘em instead.” 

Your brows furrowed in surprise. “You made them? How?” 

James surely would not have had access to the recipe, and you knew that it wasn’t a quick potion to make. He must have spent hours on it, and the thought made your heart squeeze with affection inside your chest. 

Perhaps your affections were written right across your face, because you watched as his own expression softened to something equally adoring, his smile brightening at your astonishment. 

“I got Mary to show me. Or really she just talked at me for a bit, but I took heaps of notes, and she checked at the end to make sure I’d done it right. Figured killing you with the wrong mix would’ve done nothing to cheer you up.” 

You laughed at that, shaking your head in disbelief. Your breath felt caught in your throat, something large and unavoidable stuck and ready to spill out. “You didn’t have to.” 

James shrugged. “I wanted to. I just didn’t want to make a fuss is all. Didn’t want you feeling like you’d owe me anything.” 

You felt your lip catch between your teeth, already feeling that sense of obligation starting to pool in your gut. You had never been good at accepting gifts, after all, nor compliments – you always wanted to pay things back. James, however, was as stubborn as you were, and the resolve in his gaze was enough to show you that he was unflinching on this notion. 

“Well I… I want to say thanks somehow. This was really kind, Jamie. Too kind.” 

He shook his head, squeezing your hand in his. “You don’t even need to say the thanks part. Just take the potion and I’ll be happy. I hate seeing you hurt, love, I really do.” 

It was an impulse that had you moving, your body bending at the waist until you were lowered down just enough, James’ face angling to meet yours. You stayed like that for a moment, a blip in time spent with the two of you just watching one another, breaths evening out until you moved in sync, a pattern that only you two could follow. You nudged your face slightly, lips brushing tenderly against the scruff of an unshaved cheek, pressing there far longer than ordinarily you might have ever dared. 

You heard the shudder in his breath, felt the way his hand gripped yours as you pulled back, gaze meeting his own in an unavoidable stare. 

“Thank you, James. I really mean it.” 

You watched as he swallowed, that same sort of lump caught in his own throat as he tried to find the words, tried to make himself speak in a way that you would understand. How could he make you see that he would do anything for you, anything at all, whether you asked or not. 

He settled on the one thing he knew he needed, using his grip on your hand to urge you out from behind the couch – behind the wall between you two – guiding you until you settled comfortably in his lap, curled up and safe, just as you ought to be. You didn’t question the movement, just tilting your head curiously at the intense way he seemed to be watching you, tugging your entwined hands into your lap, cocooning his within your own, rubbing circles into the back of his hand. 

James reached for your face with his other hand, deft fingers hooking your loose strands of hair behind your ear, circling at the softness of your cheek and jaw with newfound tenderness. 

“If you want to thank me next time, then you can just let me look after you. It’s all I want to do.” 

His kiss was quick as he pressed his lips to your own, somehow so casual for something so foreign between you both. You’d have almost believed you’d made the whole thing up if you couldn’t feel the electricity it left behind, feel the way such a small thing had awakened so much inside of you. 

“Okay.” 

You could see it in his stare, the way he was reading you, trying to understand if you wanted this as badly as he did. Your soft sigh as you nuzzled into the warmth of his palm was all the reassurance he needed, nodding to himself as he processed the lines he had just crossed. 

“Okay.” He breathed, angling your face to kiss your brow, his touch reverent as he lingered far longer this time, unable to bring himself to pull away until the very last second, that teasing, boyish grin now spread across his features. “Take your potion, then, and sit with me a little while. I wanna make sure it works.” 

It was hard to tell what was changed between you two, but all you knew was that whatever had occurred here in this armchair would linger in the back of your mind for days to come. There was a new intimacy here, one far deeper than had ever been explored between the two of you before, and even without words, you knew James felt it too. 

Maybe it didn’t need words. Maybe it was enough for you to drink the potion and settle against him, your nose pressed against the pulse beating steadily at the crook of his neck, his hand pressing soft circles into the dip of your back. Maybe that was the only step that needed taking, for now. Something felt all too assured in that moment that this was just the beginning, and that was all the both of you needed to know.

[foolexby]

Afterlife.

Notes: James Potter x Fem reader. Reader is having an existential crisis. Google translate, kinda. Not use of Y/N.

First part of Your name.

She was sitting in the stands, watching the Gryffindor team during their Quidditch practice. Well, "watching the team" was a bit of an overstatement—her eyes were fixed on only one person: her boyfriend. Handsome, funny, popular—the Gryffindor golden boy. James Potter.

She couldn’t stop looking at him. The way he moved so naturally on the broom, like he was born to play. Every now and then, he’d throw her a wink to let her know that even though he was focused on practice, he was still thinking about her.

After a while, the practice ended, and he started walking toward the stands where she was sitting until he was standing right in front of her.

"Sorry, doll, practice lasted forever."

"I like watching anyway."

"I'm glad you enjoy it, but there are other things I’d rather be doing," he said, leaning down so they were at eye level. "I’ve been waiting all practice for this."

"Don’t get too close," she said, placing her hand in front of him with a playful smile. "You’re all sweaty."

"Come on, doll, don’t do this to me. Are you really complaining? I thought you liked it when I’m all sweaty."

She shook her head, still smiling. "Not today, Jamie. You need a shower."

"Only if you come with me," he half-joked, placing a hand on her thigh and tracing circles with his thumb. "You know I always end up sweaty and dirty after practice. Maybe you should come see me in the showers sometime." He leaned in closer.

She laughed at the comment. "You’re a menace."

"Only for you," he flirted back.

She rolled her eyes, amused. She actually loved when her boyfriend acted like this. "Go shower, James."

He let out a dramatic sigh. "Ugh, fine, I’ll go shower—but I’m coming for you after."

"Do I have to wait here?"

"Unfortunately, yes. But I’ll be quick, promise." He kissed her on the cheek and headed off toward the showers.

⋆˚☆˖°⋆｡° ✮˖ ࣪ ⊹⋆.˚

James took the fastest shower of his life. Once he was done, he quickly got dressed and rushed out of the locker room, searching for her. He spotted her sitting on the bleachers and jogged over, his hair still a little damp, a few curls falling onto his forehead as he sat down beside her.

She looked up at her boyfriend. "I love your wet hair."

He chuckled softly at her comment, running a hand through his damp curls to push them back. "Oh, I know you do."

"And I love you too," she added, a smile appearing on her face.

“Oh, you’ll make me blush,” he said, admiring her for a moment. “But I love you too.”

"I know you do."

“Of course you know. You always know, doll,” he said, gently taking her hand in his and brushing his thumb over the back of it. “You’re stuck with me.”

Her smile widened. "My bad," she teased.

He laughed softly at her words. “You’re not stuck with me. You’re meant to be with me. There’s a difference, doll.”

"Oh yeah? You're saying we were destined for each other?"

He nodded. “Yes. I’ve never been more sure of anything in my entire life. We were meant to find one another.”

"Well..." She paused to think. "I don’t believe in destiny, but I’m glad to be in this world where you exist to be with me."

He knew she didn’t believe in destiny, but hearing her say that made his heart swell. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze and said, “I don’t care if you believe in destiny or not. I believe in it—and I know it brought us together. You belong to me, and I belong to you.”

“Say it, doll,” his eyes fixed on her with complete seriousness. “Say that you belong to me, and I belong to you.”

"I belong to you… and you, James Potter, belong to me."

“There you go, doll. That’s what I like to hear,” he murmured, his voice low and affectionate. “You belong to me, and I belong to you. We belong to each other.”

He loved hearing her say those words—it was music to his ears. His smile softened as he looked at her like she was the only thing that mattered in the world.

“I love you so many much,” she said with a grin.

“I love you so much,” he echoed gently, smiling at her unique little way of expressing herself. He was certain—down to his bones—that he could never love anyone the way he loved her. He pulled her closer, wrapping an arm around her and placing a soft kiss on the top of her head.

“And I will love you until the end of the world.”

“In another life?” her voice barely a whisper.

“In every single life, I will find you. And I will love you endlessly,” he said, like he was speaking a vow written in the stars. He truly believed it—with all his heart—that no matter where or when, he would find her again and again.

“In each and every life,” he whispered as he gently pulled her into his lap, “I will be right here for you."

A silence settled between them—not uncomfortable, but deep enough for her to sink into thought. She looked down to the space between them, absentmindedly playing with her fingers, her brows slightly furrowed. “Jamie…” Her voice was barely a whisper, fragile and hesitant, like she wasn’t sure if the words she was about to say would shatter something between them.

“Yes, doll?” He responded softly, his voice warm and close. He held her gently in his lap, his chest pressed against hers, arms wrapped securely around her waist. He leaned in, his lips brushing her ear as he nuzzled into her hair.

“What if I can’t find you in another life?” Her voice trembled, her eyes beginning to glisten with tears she didn’t let fall.

“Impossible,” he said immediately, with absolute certainty. To him, finding her was a universal law—unavoidable, undeniable. He kissed the top of her head and whispered, “We will always find our way to each other. You belong to me, and I belong to you. Remember?”

“But—” she started, her voice cracking under the weight of uncertainty.

“No buts, doll,” he cut in gently, but firmly. “It’s inevitable. I will find you. We will always find each other. In this life, and in every other life after this.”

She blinked slowly, her breath catching in her throat. “How are you so sure?” she asked, her voice softer now, almost like a plea.

“Because there isn’t a single lifetime that could come between us. You are mine, and I am yours. I don’t deserve you, but I’ll always find a way back to you. I have no doubt in my mind.” He pulled back just slightly to look into her eyes. “When I imagine every version of myself, there’s one thing that never changes. You. You are my constant, my fixed point, my person. Every version of me loves you. Even if they didn’t know you yet… they would search. And they would find you.”

Her voice was small and uncertain when she finally asked, “What if all of this is just a dream? What if… you don’t even exist?”

He paused, taking her question seriously. He lifted his head, took her chin gently to met her eyes. “No. This isn’t a dream. And I most definitely exist. I’m as real as the sun, the clouds, and this earth. This is real. You’re mine, I’m yours. And that’s how it’s always going to be, doll. I’m real—and I’m right here. I promise.”

“Please don’t be a dream,” she whispered, leaning into him like he was her anchor.

“I’m not,” he said, holding her tighter, his voice filled with urgency. “And I won’t ever be. I’m right here.”

He wrapped his arm around her even more securely, as if to physically prove his existence, the warmth of his body speaking louder than words. “I’m real. Believe me, doll. Please.”

She swallowed hard and finally nodded, her voice steadier this time. “You’re here… and you’re real.”

“Exactly, love. There you go.” He traced the outline of her lips with his thumb, his expression soft with adoration. Then, leaning in just a bit more, he added quietly, “Let me prove it even more to you.”

He gently kissed her, slow and tender. His hand moved from her chin to her waist, holding her tightly like he was afraid she might disappear. When he pulled away, he looked into her eyes and whispered, “See, love? I’m still here. I’m not going anywhere.”

She gave a small, quiet nod.

“That’s what I thought, doll,” he said with a grin, pulling her closer again. He held her tightly in his lap, arms wrapped around her like she was his entire world. He exhaled softly and whispered in her ear, “I’m here for you, love. You’re not dreaming.”

She let out a soft breath, then gave him a playful smile. “Maybe you are dreaming. Maybe I’m just a product of your head.”

“Oh, don’t start that again,” he groaned, playfully rolling his eyes. Still, her words stirred something inside him, just a flicker of doubt—the kind the universe liked to toy with. He shook his head to clear it and chuckled softly. "Don’t make me second-guess myself now, love. I just got you to accept the fact that I’m real.”

She nodded again and murmured with sincerity, “Sorry, Jamie. You know… for me, you’re the best person in the whole world.”

“Good, doll. I’m glad you think that—but you’re wrong.” He kissed her forehead tenderly. “You’re the best person in the entire world. You have no idea how perfect you are.” His voice softened even more, just a breath against her skin. “You’ve always been my only one…”

Her gaze lingered on him as she whispered, “You’ve always been my only one, James.”

“And I always will be,” he replied without missing a beat. “It’s you and me, doll. Always you and me.” He held her tighter, like she might vanish if he let go, and nestled his face into the curve of her neck. “Forever,” he whispered.

“And ever,” she said softly.

“And ever. Exactly,” he murmured, his lips brushing against her skin. “I don’t ever want to leave your side, doll.” He held her impossibly close, heart pressed to hers. “You’re mine. And I’m yours. That’s how it is.”

⋆˚☆˖°⋆｡° ✮˖ ࣪ ⊹⋆.˚

Some stories are felt—etched into the hearts of the people living them, like constellations that always find their way back to the same sky.

They belonged to each other. In this life, in every life, in every dream, in every version of the universe.

They were each other’s beginning and end. Their promise wasn’t just spoken—it was lived.

That’s how it was written.

And some things—no matter what—can never be unwritten.

Part two.

[unconventional-lawnchair]

Jily x Gn!Reader {Blurb}

Jily x Slytherin!Reader

Masterlist

Summary: An interesting situationship with Jily}

wc-2184

Cw; No use of {Y/N}, Jamie being a meanie, this is NOT proofread, Straight up porn for the first 500 words.}

A/n: This was an idea born out of ovulation and exhaustion, I do not plan to continue it

James’s hands slipped down the curve of your hips, his thumbs pressing down hard on the divot of your pelvis.

His breath was heavy, his hips rolling forward in a rhythm that you gave up trying to follow. He applied pressure to your bruising hips, not allowing you to squirm or falter any longer, forcing you to comply with his wishes. Not that you could say much to fight it, face covered by the divine place where Lily’s ivory legs met.

“They're doing so f’good.” James slurred out, gasping between statements, trying his best not to come undone by his view. You, laying across his bed, unable to hide your body from him, as Lily held your hands on her love handles. Giving a chuckle when he pressed a bit too hard and caused you to grab harder at Lily’s skin, leaving angry red marks, 

“So f’good. Just f’us..” He groaned and leaned down, running his tongue along a strip in the middle of your chest, savoring the taste of your salted skin, admiring how your chest raised to try and keep him there. 

“Look at them.. Lily, look at how- fuck…” He groaned and had to slow himself with how hard you were clenching around him. Only serving to make you whine into Lily’s soaked cunt, making the older girl give a shaky breath.

“Yeah, yeah, I see them, Jamie.” She whined and began to grind down on your tongue. Her eyes rolled back as you pulled down on her hips to bring her as close as possible. Even with how dominant she played in the bedroom, she still seemed to think you couldn't take her full weight. She grabbed your wrist and hand, throwing her head back as she began to gasp.

You continued to assault her clit, making her shutter. “Close! Close!” She cried out. You curled your legs, her sounds like music to your ears. Even with James slow yet hard motions, you were close, so bloody close.

Lily gave a cry of your name, a slur of a few curses she'd normally never let fall from her pretty lips in any other scene, and began begging for James. 

She eventually couldn't take any more, crawling off of you to catch her breath. James took her place and stole your lips for himself, savoring the taste of Lily on them. You lifted your wobbly hands to grab his hair, suddenly, there was no hesitation. 

His hips fired off hard and deep inside of you, your back arching off the bed sheets, screaming out into his mouth. He pulled back to watch as you reacted to his suddenly brutal assault. “J-Jamie- Jamie, s-s-slower!” You shouted and he licked his lips clean of Lily's cum and your fucked out taste.

“Come on.. just one more. One more for me.” He groaned out and you stuttered, unable to argue when Lily took your lips next, just gripping the pillow under your head as if it would give you any purchase through it all.

“They're so good for us, Jamie. Tell them how good they are.”

“Lily, please..” You whined out through clenched teeth, James only seemed to go more erratic at your sounds. “C-can't.. can't-”

“You can.” Lily encouraged, with those soft motherly eyes. Coaxing you further as tears threatened to pour at the pure intense pleasure of being pushed past your third ending. 

“And you will.” James spoke, almost like a threat. Cupping your thighs and forcing your hips higher to get as far as he could. “You'll know who you belong to.”

~~~

It was late afternoon in the Slytherin commons. It had been a day since you saw the two Gryffindor heads, and usually you wouldn't take longer then an hour apart to see eachother again.

Early morning you had snuck out of James’s bedroom, not waking either of them. You loved to be around the two, truly but.. Those words had kept you up the majority of the night. ‘You’ll know who you belong to.’ They were possessive and terrifying, just like his eyes. Like he was warning you.

This all started because Regulus had made a comment to Sirius about finding you a partner, joking about how you are always trailing after James and Lily like a lost puppy. Despite your age, the two upperclassmen were extremely fond of you. Everyone knew it to be true.

You were a Slytherin to your core, ambitious, clever, and determined. However, you were also one of the sweetest green robe James had ever met. You were struggling in potions in year 4, and with James’s father being a potioneer and Lily being extraordinarily talented, the two 6th years volunteered to help you. 

Not that they had a clue who you were at the time.

They learned quickly. 

You were feisty, sassy, and always stuck by what you said. You were also Lily’s Sweetness. She liked you the first time she met you, quick friends. James was harder to convince, with the emerald green hanging from your ears and neck, the robes to match and even your nails.

You were a proud Slytherin. 

He did cave, eventually, and he fell hard into his ‘fondness’ for you. Eventually, when the next year came around, you went everywhere with them. Your grades had improved and they had no more reason to study with you. James’s solution? Just drag the poor kid everywhere. 

That was what started the entanglement of yours. They dragged you to a party in the Gryffindor commons to watch Potter strut around the room and make a fool of himself over their win. A few drinks down, a dare or two later, and you were feeling loose lipped. Loose lipped enough to admit to Lily, who was sitting beside you, something you never would have dreamed otherwise.

“Truth!” Your drunken mind clung to safety.

“What is your deepest fantasy?” Lily pushed, stealing away your beer and setting it aside. Seems to her you've had enough, must be on babysitting duty.

“Like, in bed?”

“In bed.” Lily mused and you bit your lip. Should you tell her the truth?

“Hm.. probably two at once?”

“Boring!!” Marlene shouted across from you, Sirius laughing and trying to keep her upright. Clearly plastered. Remus shook his head in amusement, Regulus laying his head across Remus’s lap with a smirk aimed at you. One you didn't like.

“And who are the two?” Regulus pushed and you bit your cheek, avoiding his eyes. 

“Well, only two people at this school I'd be close enough to do that with.” You spat back and Regulus gave a gasp of mock offense. “I'm wounded.”

“Stay down.” You smirked at him, not noticing Lily’s shocked expression turn slightly. She bit her lip and looked back to James, managing to catch his eyes.

~~~

That night was the best mistake you ever made. You were sure it was a one time thing. 

It had become almost nightly. So much so your hips knew James’s hands better than it knew your own. You could probably recite every one of Lily’s sounds by heart. It was amazing.

Until you made a mistake. You had fallen hard for the two.

Regulus noticed. He had made remarks in the past about setting you up, ever since he started dating Remus he seemed to think he was the go to for all of your relationship woes.

So that comment at Dinner wasn't completely out of left field, you just laughed. He pushed, offering to set you up with Barty or Pandora, both offers making you snort out. “You want to set me up with a flower child or a literal maniac? Does my type vary that much?”

“Would you do them?” Regulus cheeked and you smirked. 

“Yeah, probably.” 

To interrupt the conversation, James cleared his throat, frowning down at his plate while Lily cooed out to him. Regulus gave them a look before his eyes drifted back to you who didn't even seem to notice their odd display. 

“Oh James, you can't keep them from dating forever. Little butterfly has to spread their wings.” Regulus teased, mocking James’s words when Sirius found out about him and his best mate, taking notice of how his jaw clenched and he avoided their eyes. Interesting… Lily gave him a worried look as a weird tension filled their little area of the Gryffindor table. 

“You okay Jamie?” You spoke up, tilting to the side and trying to catch his eye across Lily’s form. He still refused to meet yours.

“Oh! I forgot, sweetness, if you are wanting to join us for study tonight, we should probably get to it now.” Lily declared and stood up. 

Study.

James began to stand up and didn't wait for your agreement, just grabbing your bag. You hurried to your feet and muttered a quick goodbye to everyone still at the table. 

When you got to his dorm they wasted no time with you, it felt almost like James wanted to say something that entire time.

He finally did, and it left you in more of a mess then you originally figured. You thought it was maybe going to be a conversation, then telling you they wanted to end it if you got a partner. Seemed only logical. What did you expect, really? James and Lily were made for each other. You were just some fun they had on the side. You liked having that sliver of intimacy, it fooled you into believing that there was something more there.

Instead, you got your back blown out and a few new marks of Lily’s teeth intended in your chest. Not that you minded, again, you knew what it was. 

You were lost in thought, facing the ceiling as your eyes followed the dancing ripples of light reflected from the Black Lake. 

“Quid for your thoughts?” You heard Regulus mused before his face invaded your view of the reflective green. 

“It's a penny.” You smirked up at him and he lifted his eyebrow at you with that same stoic expression.

“Penny? Bloody hell is a Penny?”

“It's an American currancy. I'm assuming you heard it from Remus.” You mocked, smirking as he huffed. 

“I don't like talking to you.” He mumbled and slid into the couch, forcing you to bend your legs to get out of his way. “Did you think about my offer?”

“Offer?” 

“To set you up with Barty or Pandora.” He mused and looked at the crackling fire. You shifted to stare at it too, fiddling with the helm of your shirt.

“I.. I don't know..” You mumbled and Regulus sighed. There was a moment of silence that filled the room, it was cold and unwelcomed. Like you knew what was about to be said.

“You know you have to move on eventually.” He offered no louder than a whisper, and yet you still reacted like he physically hit you.

“... I know.” You mumbled and curled in on yourself. 

“It's better to start now before it gets much worse.”

“I know.” You whispered.

“I can't promise you will fall for either of them, but it might help you get your mind off of those two.”

“... I know.” You muttered into your pillow. Before you shot upward as you hear another voice join your conversation. 

“Know about what?” Lily mused as she looked over the back of the couch. You were startled, but soon relaxed a bit when you realized she hadn't heard anything. 

“About getting them a partner.” Regulus mused and looked you in the eyes as if to dare you to say anything.

“J-just the same conversation as always.” You quickly countered, bending your knees as you watched Lily blink a few times in surprise. 

“Are you serious?” James finally spoke up, arms crossing and jaw clenching once more. He looked pissed. You narrowed your eyes at him before looking at Lily, whose eyes were burrowing into your head. Why did it feel like you were in the wrong here?

“I-I mean, why not? Why are you two here?” You pried and James scoffed, Remus slipping his way around the two to get to Regulus.

“Well,” Lily interrupted James, leaning closer to you. “We were coming to check on you. You've been gone all day.” 

You looked away from the two as Lily reached out to try and touch your forehead. “Just.. haven't been feeling well.”

“Is that so?” She cooed and leaned closed, her feet hanging a bit off the back of the couch. “Well-”

“So, you're going on a date? With who?” James interrupted her and walked closer, Lily sighed. “Jamie-”

“Pandora?” He pried and you began to get up. “Barty? What do they have that-”

“James!” Lily shouted at him and James had some sense to look embarrassed at Remus’s wide eyes and Regulus’s closed ones.

James sighed and ruffled the back of his hair in frustration and Lily pulled away from your space. “We'll be where we always are, Sweetness. When you're ready, okay?”

“Yeah.” You whispered, eyes locked on James piercing gaze.

‘Who you belong to’ 

It was those eyes again.