#james potter scenario

[moonstruckme]

hii! I was wondering if you could write something about James meeting reader for the first time when he finds her crying at a party or something? and just takes the time to comfort her and get to know her?

Idk that idea just came to me and I think it’s so sweet and adorable 😭🙏🏼

Thank you for requesting lovely!

cw: alcohol

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words

You thought you came in here to be alone, but it’s just like a boy to come and ruin your plans. And just like James Potter to be drawn to the sound of your weeping like a superhero towards sirens. 

“Hello?” You cover your mouth with a hand as the bedroom door creaks open. “Is someone in here?” 

You recognize the voice even robbed of its usual levity, cautiously softened for your benefit. Your stilted breaths continue puffing out of your nose despite your attempts to be quiet, and James’ footsteps come closer. 

“Hey,” he says, crouching in front of you, “you alright?” 

“Mm-hm,” you hum pitchily. Your shoulders shake silently as tears continue gushing out of you. 

James’ forehead creases. “What’s wrong, love?” 

Your bottom lip wobbles at his concern, but you stay strong. “Nothing.” You wipe your cheek with the butt of your palm. “M’fine.” 

“Well, that’s good to hear.” He offers you a smile. The effect, you know, is dizzying when you’re sober, so you’re not too frightened when it works the same now. “Would you like a tissue?” 

You nod, and James reaches for the nightstand behind you. He pulls open the top drawer, one hand protecting your head from bumping into it, and procures a box of tissues. You take it from him, holding it in your lap. 

“How did you know where to find that?” 

“This is my best mate’s room,” he says. “Sirius. I’m James, by the way.” 

You blow your nose. “I know. I know who Sirius is, too.” 

“Yeah?” James grins. You fold the tissue and start wiping under your eyes. It does nothing to erase the mascara tracks already running down to your chin, but James doesn’t think telling you that will help anything. “He’ll be happy to hear that. I know you, too, though I don’t think we’ve had the chance to speak before.” 

“Sorry,” you say, patting the floor beside you for your drink. James subtly moves it beneath the bed. “I’m usually better to be around, I think.” 

“I don’t know,” he replies, “I’m having a good time hanging out with you.” 

You snort. “You must have a low bar.” 

James’ eyebrows raise, surprised mingled with amusement. “Can I ask you something?” 

You’re feeling for your drink again, not having processed its absence. “Um, sure.” 

“How’d you end up in here?” 

Immediately, your doleful mood returns. “Kayla’s mad at me.” 

“Kayla Chapman?” James tries to catch your gaze again as you nod at the floor. “Why’s that, darling?” 

“Sh—she—” Your lip wobbles again. When you don’t take a new tissue yourself James does it for you, pressing it into your hand. “We were together, and she was talking to this guy, and then she just disappeared,” you say while blowing your nose. “And she’d been drinking, so I was worried, you know?” 

You look to James for approval, and he nods. 

“Right, you didn’t want her to get taken advantage of.” 

“Exactly! So I had to look for her forever, I was totally panicking, and when I found her I tried to ask if she was okay and she said—” your voice cracks “—I embarrassed her. She was s—so angry with me.” 

“Oh, sweetheart.” James’ hand lands on your shoulder as you hunch over your lap. He rubs it consolingly. “I’m sure she’ll feel differently tomorrow. You were only trying to look out for her.” 

“She won’t,” you cry, having long forgotten your reservations about doing so in front of James Potter. “And she was the only person I knew here, so now I’m all alone.” 

“Well, that’s not true, is it?” He continues rubbing your shoulder steadily, as if comforting drunk girls at parties is something he does every night. It might be, you don’t know. “You know me.” 

You sniffle. “I meant my only friend.” 

“What, you don’t think of us as friends?” James sounds appalled. “I’m wounded, sweetheart. I thought we were getting in some quality bonding here.” 

You miss the humor in his voice completely, looking up at him through still-glossy eyes. “Are we friends?” 

“I’d like to be.” 

“Why?” 

James' expression does something funny. “Do you ask everyone who wants to be your friend that?” You tilt your head, unsure how to answer, but he goes on. “I like you. You try to keep your friends from being assaulted and you’re clearly conscious of your use of paper products—” You follow his gaze as he glances pointedly at the two tissues you’ve been folding to use over and over again “—what other qualities does a person need?” 

Your lips quirk just a little. James’ smile blooms all over again for seeing it. “You’re really nice,” you tell him. “I mean, I knew you were, s’what everyone says, but it’s still good in person.” 

A little laugh sputters out of him, but James doesn’t quite know how to respond to that. 

“I’m tiresome,” you warn him gravely. “You’ll get sick of me.” 

“I know we’ve only just met,” he replies, still smiling in that always-sunny way of his, “but I don’t really see that happening. I’ll be sure to let you know if it does.” He regards you for a moment. Your face is a mostly dried-up watershed of makeup and snot, collecting to a point around your chin, but James is happy to note no fresh tears seem prepared to spill. “Would it make you feel any better if we cleaned your face up a bit?” 

You blink and touch your fingertips to your face, brow scrunching when they come away sooty. “Oh,” you say. “That would be nice.” 

“I’ll be right back.” 

James takes your drink with him, grateful you don’t seem to notice as he dumps what remains in Sirius’ sink and tosses the cup in the bin. When he returns with a washcloth dampened with warm water, you’ve leaned your head against the side of the mattress and are staring into the middle distance. You still look heart-wrenchingly sad. James wonders if your friend is anywhere near as inebriated as you, and whether she realized that by leaving with that guy she was leaving you like this. Whether it was really you who needed to be looking out for her or the other way around. 

“Back.” His voice comes out quieter than he intends, reduced to nearly a whisper at the sight of your pensive state, but your eyes lift to his anyway. You raise your head as one corner of your mouth tilts upwards. It’s a greeting and, in James’ opinion, a decided improvement. 

He squats in front of you, palming one side of your face. “Close your eyes, love.” 

James has always made fun of Sirius for his “angsty towels,” but he sees their true purpose now; your makeup hardly shows on the dark material. He swipes it over your skin gently, extra careful around your eyes. 

“This is really nice of you,” you say. James decides not to let you know you’ve already expressed this sentiment. “This is, like, best friend level of niceness.” 

“Best friend,” he repeats, delighted. “Well, if I’d known I was going for the promotion, I would’ve gone above and beyond. Lavender oils on the washcloth and everything.” 

“Mm, you earned it on your own, though.” 

James grins. Your eyes are closed, but you’re smiling too.

[ddejavvu]

more best friend james with no boundaries headcanons please 🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽 like sirius and remus definitely side eye the two of you but they don’t ever make it noticeable 🫢 they’re just waiting for the two of you to finally get together 😵‍💫 like james definitely rests his hands in between your thighs when he’s cold and remus is always muttering to sirius how that is definitely not best friend behaviour

Sirius and Remus stop in tandem, beat up shoes stomping to a halt in the middle of the floor. It would be comical if their gazes weren't so scrutinizing and judgmental towards you where you're curled up in James's bed.

"Are we interrupting something?" Remus raises a brow at you where you lay pressed to James's chest, his hands wrapped around your waist and tucked into the space between your thighs. He'd been griping about the chill of the air against his hands after realizing they wouldn't stay tucked into the sleeves of his sweater, so when he'd pried your thighs apart to slip his hands between them, you'd let him get his fill of your body heat.

"Jus' the most boring book I've ever read," James drawls, popping his head lazily off of the pillow to stare at his friends, "Don't even know why she reads this shit, anyways."

"I read it because I like it," You hum, used to James's disdain of your more 'boring' (read: not dangerous, reckless, or foolish) hobbies, "But I'm more curious as to why you read it over my shoulder, James, if it's so boring and awful."

"Not much choice," He reasons, but you both know he could shut his eyes if he wanted to be free from your novel, and you squeeze your thighs together in hopes of pressing his hands painfully together as a reprimand.

James makes a sort of stunted groan as his knuckles scrape painfully together, but when you release your grip, he doesn't pull away. He merely settles his head back against the pillow, eyes sneakily roving over the page you're reading.

"Remus, a word." Sirius grabs the man by his right scarred hand, tugging him towards the closet. They disappear inside together, and when the door shuts behind them, and Sirius manages to swat the sleeve of his leather jacket out of his face, he stares at Remus with wide, urgent eyes.

"Did you see that?" Sirius gawps, as if maybe Remus hadn't noticed James's hands resting inches from your core, "That is not normal friend behavior?"

"I bet two galleons they kiss within the month," Remus wagers with a smirk on his face, and the expression is contagious where it transfers to Sirius right away.

"Within the week," Sirius solidifies his stance, holding a hand out for Remus to shake, "You've got a deal, Moony."

--

The moment the closet door shuts behind Remus and Sirius, you crane your neck to look backwards at James.

"They're not even trying to hide it anymore," You breathe, keeping your voice low so that the two boys can't hear you, "What do you think they're doing in there?"

"Kissing, probably," James snorts, "Pulling someone into a closet by the hand is not normal friend behavior."

"When are they just gonna give it up?" You scoff, twisting back around to resume reading, "They're so obvious."

"Dunno, love." James hums, leaning forwards to press a kiss to your shoulder where your tank top has slid off of the skin there. He readjusts his hands between your thighs, nestling them imperceptibly closer to your heated core, "Some people are just oblivious."

[sinnersami]

James being obsessed with your tits

james could shamelessly admit that he was in love with your boobs. what was there to not love about the pair — he could hold, squeeze and caress them for just about forever and still not get bored.

it was almost embarrassing knowing how hard he got at just the mere thought of seeing your naked chest, nipples hard and puckered up for him at even the slightest touch from his fingertips.

but there was something even more attractive about you knowing that he loved them. god did it turn him on when you used it to your advantage.

“wanna fuck my tits ?” your tone didn’t go hidden by james’ ears but all he could focus on was you not waiting for an answer and instead the manner in which you slipped off your top to reveal your bare breasts with such ease.

looking up at him with those knowing eyes already had him hooked — he’d have to be brainless if he thought he could ever say no to having you on your knees as you slid his cock inbetween your boobs.

“shit, baby…”

the specatcular view had had him starstruck, thighs clenched while you shuffled closer to him; squeezing your tits to hold his cock tighter. you’d already jerked him off teasingly slow, dragging your palm up and down while gazing at him lustfully.

“fuuuuck…” james was a mess, your hand holding his heavy cock along with you flaunting your tits only making him more weak; low moans slipping past his lips when you moved his tip across both your nipples and deciding to fully envelop his length between your slit.

he’d only become more desperate, finding it hard not to thrust his hips into your boobs that were held in your arms. the feeling in the pit of his stomach was growing more intense and he saw you watch eagerly, biting on your lips as you moved your tits around his shaft with more pressure and speed.

“ugh, i-“ he couldn’t stop his mouth dropping, pants being heard from him as strips of cum painted your skin. a satisfied sigh left your mouth while you continued to tease his poor tip by swiping it against your nipples.

send me a request !

[luveline]

hi! I love coworker james!! can I request something for them? It's like james always bother and annoy her (jokingly) and then others coworkers trying to do the same to her but in a mean way so james is like 🤨hey thats rude🤨🤨

“Come on, shortcake, it’s not even that high.” 

You turn around to glare at James. Whether you’re tall or not is unimportant to him, all he cares about is that you’re a good few inches shorter than he is, which gives him ample opportunity to put things in places you can’t reach. 

You glare at him fiercely from over your shoulder. “James, this isn’t funny.” 

“You’re getting your daily stretches in. I’m improving the health of your shoulder muscles. And I’d know about muscles.” 

You wrinkle your nose. He laughs like a fool, he loves that expression on you and it’s so potently disgusted that he can’t help himself. Agitated, you reach as tall as you can on your tiptoes and attempt to curve your wrist along the ridge of the shelf to retrieve your work calculator. Accountants cannot account without a calculator. 

You turn your face down and rub your brow with your fingers. He sees the moment you tip from frantically annoyed to smiling, a stuttering of humour he’s not supposed to witness. It’s the whole reason he messes with you. Well, that and you’re the most agitating girl on planet Earth. 

“James,” you say, voice shining with good humour, “you should know about muscle. You know nothing about anything else.” 

“Pathetic insult.” He laughs and jumps out of his chair. “Here I thought you were going to say something nice to me.” 

He’s standing just behind you when one of your coworkers, Daniel, butts in. “Little miss frown lines say something nice? I’d like to see the day.” 

Your smile swiftly shutters. 

“Let me get that for you,” James murmurs, touching your shoulder gently to usher you aside. 

Daniel leans against his desk with his arms crossed over his chest. James side-eyes the cruel pinch of Daniel’s brow as he grabs your calculator. Your silence clearly irks him. 

“A day at the office isn’t complete without you whining about something, huh, sweetheart?” 

What? “Hey, stop. Why are you talking to her like that?” James asks, confused and angry all in one blow. 

“I’m just teasing her,” Daniel says. 

“No, mate, I was just teasing her. You’re trying to knock her down a few pegs,” he says. He leaves no room for argument; his tone and face are strong but impassive at once. He gives you your calculator. “Here, shortcake,” he says, quieter. 

“Whatever, James,” Daniel says with a laugh, walking off toward the staff kitchen unbothered. 

You watch him every step of the way. 

“He’s an idiot,” James says. 

“I guess.” 

He’s suddenly very aware of what he’s done. Maybe Daniel was only teasing. James has probably said worse to you over the last year —you’re a pit viper in an argument and James can’t let things lie. He’s called you lots of cruel things out of context. Abominable priss, leggy twit, try-hard. You’ve called him a prat, a twat, and a dickhead. It’s reciprocated. 

Maybe. “You okay?” he asks. 

You give him a funny look. “James, I’m fine. Now you’ve stopped acting like we’re in year six, I’m awesome.”

“Oh, so that’s how it is.” 

You hold his gaze. You’re standing quite close. “That’s how it is.” 

He doesn’t see the perplexed look you give your calculator, can’t know you sit at your desk afterwards feeling oddly pleased. 

[remusmoonbaby]

James Potter is the type to be a complete and utter perv in your relationship. Of course it's mostly in private because well...he's got a reputation to keep being Gyffindor's Quidditch Captain and all. But that doesn't stop him one night taking the underwear he's "sneakingly" stolen from you, using it on himself as he jerks off in the middle of the night. Duh he takes the red silky one that drives him absolutely insane.

"Fuck...mmgh! Feels so good." He moans into his shirt that is being bit between his teeth, as a form of trying to keep his moans and groans quiet. But the sweet, cold sensation of your silk underwear stretching over his sensitive, many times, makes this one last stretch turn into shudders and quiet moans as he starts to come onto the fabric. James's eyes rolls to the back of his head, and his toes curl at the sensation of the cool fabric meeting his hot cum.

James Potter is definitely the type to send you little notes telling you how he wants to take you in front of the class just at the mere fact that he can see some other guy staring at you, and he wants to claim what's his. (Sirius's relationship antics rubbed off on him 🤷🏻)

If he keeps turning his head to the side to keep looking at you, I'm going to bend you over this desk and show him who you belong to.

James, you can't do that!

Watch me gorgeous.

James Potter is the type to pull you in a corner of an empty corridor, where honestly, if someone was looking for y'all they will see what's happening. But does he care? Of course not, why would he? All he cares about is quenching his thirst and keeping you satisfied, while also on your toes.

"James what you doing?" You said as you look at him getting on his knees with wide eyes and a fierce blush covering your face.

"Just trying to get something to drink real quick, baby." James said as he looked up at you with a smirk.

"People will see!" You squeaked out as your eyes scanned around the corridor in a frantic manner.

"Let them see then." He says coolly before lifting your skirt, getting underneath it, moving your underwear to the side, and licking a long strip of your wet pussy.

Let's say the idea of someone coming across the two of you completely slipped your mind as you let James get his much needed thirst.

[liketolovexx]

James Potter is easily the biggest of the three. He’s just so muscular and strong, but in a soft way. He’s got a soft layer of fat protecting his muscles, and I imagine he’s very freckled too. Not sure why. He is the epitome of a golden retriever boyfriend. He likes being the big spoon, and has an INCREDIBLE weak spot for getting his hair played with. Like, it’s literally orgasmic to him. He grew up with everything. Love, money, etc, etc, so he’s probably the touchiest (at first), and is all over you from the start. Also, I think he often forgets his strength and squeezes u too hard and you’ve gotta be like “uh.. Jamie..? You’re.. you’re kinda squeezing-“ and he just puts an arm over ur mouth like “shut up, baby. Sorry. Love you.” He’s adorable.

Remus Lupin is just a normal sized boy, and runs hot like a radiator. Honestly. He doesn’t even need all those knitted sweaters and warm coffee because he just is the embodiment of autumn warmth. He’s littered with silver scars from his lycanthropy, so when u see him naked for the first time, he’s so self conscious. He’d have his arms wrapped around himself, shielding his scars from your view, and you’ve got to prize his hands off of himself. “I’m sorry.. i know they’re not.. appealing.. it’s…” and you’re just like “woah, rem, what? You’re fucking beautiful.” You say that, and he’s yours. He’s not used to love like James is, but he’s probably the one to start getting cuddly. I imagine it’s winter and he’s reading in the common room, and ur shivering because by some miracle the fire isn’t on. He looks up from his book, admiring you for a while and then lifts up his sweater. You SHOOT underneath it and basically curl up like a cat against his bare chest. I repeat: HE IS SO FUCKING WARM. You’d probably have an ‘eternal sunshine of the spotless mind’ moment with him at the start of your relationship though. You know when Clementine is saying she always thought she was ugly and Joel starts kissing her and saying “you’re pretty, you’re pretty, you’re pretty…” yeah, you’d be Joel and he’d be Clementine. But once he’s comfortable, he’s a fucking fiend. You’ll never be cold again, trust me.

Sirius Black is skinny and pale. Like a vampire. Endearingly. I imagine he has a nose piercing and an eyebrow piercing, and he’s all tattooed up. Will DEFINITELY get your initial on his abdomen or collarbone in swirly penmanship. Sirius will act like your best friend even when u two are dating. Bless him though, he’s so used to being hurt and abused by those that are meant to protect him that he can’t trust you at first. I think the first time he came to realise you were different is when you asked him what happened after winter break at his parent’s house, because he was being really quiet and flinching a lot which is unlike him. You cornered him in the common room when no one else was there, and asked him “hey, Siri? What’s going on, man? Tell me.” He insisted, “I’m fine. I swear, sweetheart.” You went to tuck his black curls behind his ear but he flinched, which shattered your heart. You said “Sirius, please. I need to know you’re okay, because I need you safe.” And hearing that, he broke down into your arms. From then on, he’s always in your arms. He adores comforting you, because he’s a big brother himself and so he has the instinct, you know? But man, does he fucking adore being in your arms. He WILL curl up beside you wherever you’re sitting or lying, and is always rubbing against you. He always says “I can’t help it, babe, it’s just the dog in me.” Which he seems to find HILARIOUS. Oh yeah, and he literally can’t sleep unless you’re the big spoon or his head is on your chest or in your neck. He likes to feel safe and protected for once, and you do that for him to no end. He’s THE 70s rocker stereotype, and he loves having matching nail polish with you. You’re best friends as well as lovers.

Sorry for yapping to no end guys!!!

[hearts4court]

Size!kink with James Potter

A/N: I know i already used this gif but he’s SO fine and i love this gif so much. this might be my longest one for kinktober😨

Pairing: James Potter X afab!reader.

Kinktober Masterlist🎃🦇

⚠️smut under the cut!!⚠️

James was a big guy. It wasn’t hard to notice.

From his athletic build, all the way done to his dick. And oh how he knew he was bigger then you, and how crazy he drove you.

James loved you. He would do anything for you, he would never hurt you. But, he couldn’t help himself from rearranging your guts.

~~~~~

“Sweet Merlin—“ you gasp as James pushed into you, “shh.. i gotcha.” he said stopping mid way.

“Are you sure i’ll fit?” he asked placing one of his bulky arms by your head. “Yes—i’m sure.” you plead.

James continued to push into you slowly, his eyes never leaving your face, looking for any sign of discomfort so he could pull out.

Soft whines and shaky breaths leaving your lips as he split you open, grabbing onto his muscles and digging your nails into his skin, potentially drawing blood.

“Almost there…”he whispered as you let out a soft moan as he slipped through you. “i gotcha, baby. i’m almost in, you’re doing so good.” he praised making you slightly drool at his words.

“Got it.” he said as he fit right through you, like a perfect puzzle piece. “Shit..”he moaned as he began to thrust slowly.

“Fuck, Jamie!” you cry and he couldn’t help but smile. “Shh..it’s okay, look how well your taking me, yeah?” he reassured making you whine.

Don’t copy, translate or repost any of my work w/o my permission.

[alwaysmoncheri]

𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐈𝐈 | 𝐣𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫

summary: during your time at hogwarts, you and james dated months before he dated lily. but now, after graduation, you find yourself looking for him in every place and you have no idea he’s doing the same.

cw: fem!reader, mentions of alcohol, angst(lots of it), mentions of break-ups, james and reader lore, remus being a sweetheart as always, lightly proofread, 1.8k

a/n: i don’t have much of a plan for this series, so it’s sort of just going where it’s going. if you want to suggest anything i’m open to that! but anyways, i hope you enjoy! :)

<3

james is miserable. the moment he heard your voice through the phone, something within him stirred. all the built-up emotions connected to you are suddenly back in the forefront of his mind. his day was going fine, it was like any normal day hanging out at remus’s apartment, having a few drinks, and discussing their jobs. just moments ago, laughs were shared, drinks were spilled, and remus and sirius went to the kitchen to clean up and grab a few replacement drinks. nothing was out of the ordinary, that is until the phone rang and james mindlessly decided to pick up.

remus has always been a little wary of other people answering the phone when visiting him, but james hadn’t known why, until now. remus didn’t want james to know that you and him were still close and remus surely didn’t want to ruin any peace you had made with the brutal ending of your and james’s relationship with one single phonecall. unfortununatly, due to james’ stupidity and obliviousness, he messed it all up.

“finally! I thought you weren’t going to pick up,” your voice echos through the phone, progressively getting louder as you adjust the phone within your grip. james’s eyebrows furrow together as he recognizes your voice, and disbelief flows through him, “you won’t believe who I just spoke to, she–”

“y/n?” james interrupts and you stop midsentence. there’s nothing but silence on your end of the phone for a few seconds and james thinks that you’ve hung up, but you’re only momentarily frozen with shock and a rush of memories, “hello?”

“...james?” you whisper delicately as if you’re testing his name on your lips after not speaking it for the past couple of years, “why— what are you doing?” you finally ask, a slight stammer in your sentence, after another few seconds of silence. your urgent question makes him grimace, knowing that you don’t want to speak to him.

“i’m with remus and sirius.” james replies, and he mentally facepalms himself because of course he’s with his two best friends, why else would he be answering one of their apartment phones?

“oh.” you mumble, your response barely reaching james’s ear through the phone.

“so, how are you?” james finds himself asking, not wanting you to hang up just yet, but also not knowing what else to say.

“how am I? seriously?” you repeat, an incredulous laugh falling from your lips while you shake your head in bewilderment. james hasn’t changed a bit, still avoiding the conversation that you should be having, “i’m hanging up, james.”

“hold on—” james starts, his words urgent and desperate, practically pleading you to stay on the phone with him.

“do you need something from me?” you snap and james’s eyes widen with shock at your bitter tone.

“I just wanted to hear your voice again, lovely.” james admits, the term of endearment falling from his lips before he can stop it. he grimaces again, waiting to hear your presumably just as bitter response to his comment.

“still a charmer, i see.” you say and james can picture you rolling your eyes through the phone, there might even be a small smile threatening to curve at the corners of your lips.

“some things never change, I guess.” james responds with a hopeful smile on his face. he turns around and leans against the apartment wall, getting comfortable.

“yeah, I guess they don’t.” you agree. there’s a small pause before james hears you take a deep breath, “i’m good. i’ve been pretty good.” you say, finally answering his question from earlier.

“yeah?” james asks, his smile growing wider while crossing one heel over the other.

“look, can you tell remus I called?” you ask, hoping to end the conversation without too much damage left on your heart. james’s smile drops and you quickly backtrack, changing your mind about telling remus, “or maybe don’t even mention this at all. that’s probably better.”

“okay, yeah, I can do that.” james nods through the phone, no traces of the smile from earlier left upon his face because of your abrupt end to the conversation.

“goodbye james.” you say, and james hears a hint of sadness in your tone before the click of a button, indicating that you’ve hung up.

“bye.” james whispers to himself, placing the phone back on the way, feeling defeated and confused.

now, james is stiffly seated on the couch, a frown and a look of contemplation upon his face. he’s trying hard to forget the way the two of you broke up. he’s trying to forget the way you liked it when he loosely hugged your waist from behind, the way only he could smell your sweet perfume when he kissed along your neck, and how he only knew that you hated your laugh, but whenever you did, he would tell you how beautiful it was—you would never believe him, but he kept doing it anyway. he’s trying to forget every little detail about you, but that took years, and somehow, a single conversation was enough to bring it all back.

“what’s with the face, prongs?” sirius notices first, after he and remus come back from the kitchen, a couple more drinks in their hands.

“what?” nothing.” james says, snapping his gaze up to meet his two friends who come to sit beside him, eye watching him intently. sirius and remus share a glance, one of suspicion and one of concern and confusion.

“oh c’mon.” sirius prys, leaning forward to rest his elbow on his knee and his chin on his hand, a playful smile upon his lips, “we know you better than that.” james sends sirius a glare, causing sirius to lean back mouth agape in reaction to james’s bitter expression.

“I don’t think he wants to tell us.” remus says softly, hoping to avoid receiving the same treatment that james gave sirius. but sirius is undeterred, he crosses his arms and leans back against the couch, frustrated with james’s sudden attitude.

“no, no, tell us what’s wrong.” sirius urges, eyebrows raised, awaiting james’s next response.

“nothing is wrong,” james replies, not wanting to argue, but not wanting to share his previous encounter with you on the phone, “i’m fine.” he assures, and he watches out of the corner of his eye as remus shifts uncomfortably.

“oh ok.” sirius rolls his eyes before leaning forward to glance at remus on the other side of james, “he’s fine, did you hear, remus? he’s fine.” sirius repeats mockingly before scoffing quietly.

“would you just drop it?” james asks, raising his voice ever so slightly and turning to face his whole body toward sirius.

“I don’t think I will—”

“stop it, you are both incredibly stubborn.” remus interrupts, suddenly standing up, causing james and sirius to watch with shock at their friend’s actions, “I don’t know what happened in the two minutes that we were gone, but clearly something is wrong, james. but sirius you also need to know when to take a hint.”

“sorry.” james apologizes, hanging his head low with disappointment in himself.

“I appreciate that, but I think you should go home.” remus suggests, gathering a few empty beer cans off the floor and placing them on the coffee table, “we can do this another time.” james sighs deeply before standing, walking towards the front door and grabbing his coat on his way out. when the door closes, remus turns to sirius a concerned expression resting on his face.

“is he okay?” remus asks, and sirius scoffs, clearly offended that remus didn’t ask if he was okay first.

“how should I know, remus?” sirius asks bitterly, shrugging nonchalantly, as if the whole previous conversation didn’t happen, “we’re in the same boat here.” sirius adds, referring to what little they both know about james’s mood shift and how they were both together when it suddenly occurred.

“don’t do that.” remus pleads, feeling a pang of hurt in his chest as sirius refuses to meet his gaze, “if you want to be that way, then get out.”

sirius scoffs angrily, grabs his leather jacket and stomps out of the door. from outside the apartment james watches as he hops into his car, slams the door shut, and drives away in a flash. the feeling of guilt rushes through james’s chest knowing that he’s the reason for the ruined night and the upset feelings of his two best friends. james feels like his head is all messed up, not thinking straight about anything anymore. when he gets into his own car, he just sits there for a moment, thinking about all your car-involving fantasies you talked about when the two of you were together. you always said you wanted to be kissed in a car, but james never had the chance to make that wish come true. he wonders if it has now. james rests his head on the steering wheel for a split second before starting the engine and driving back to his own apartment.

when james arrives, he shrugs off his jacket and heads straight towards his bedroom. he instantly flips on the light and strides over to his dresser taking a quick glance at the framed picture of you and him neatly placed on the top. james sighs sadly before opening his drawers, digging through the miscellaneous items within, eventually finding a small stack of letters, each one addressed to him, from you. that’s how the two of you met. he wrote a letter with the intention of giving it to lily and left it underneath a log by black lake. james planned on luring lily to his favorite spot, knowing that if he gave her the letter outright, she would find it silly, but before he could, someone else found the letter, the person being you. and you didn’t find it silly at all. you found it quite endearing, the sweet words finding home within your heart. then, you wrote a letter back, left it in the same place and somehow, james found it. that tree by the lake became your spot as the two of you continued to write to each other. but eventually you started leaving your letters elsewhere, communicating these places with each letter sent. this went on for a few months in your sixth year. you and james weren’t good friends but you were closer in your earlier years at hogwarts, so when you finally revealed yourselves to each other at the very end of the year, he instantly asked you out on a date and you said yes.

james could’ve gotten rid of these letters because they only hold memories that hurt him, but it might hurt him even more if he did get rid of them. so, he keeps choosing to hold onto them, just like he keeps holding onto you. james takes a seat on the edge of his bed and reads through each of the letters, reminding himself of the locked up memories from years ago. as he reads yours, he doesn’t know that not too far from him, you’re lying in bed, doing the exact same.

<3

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[bruisedboys]

underneath kitchen lights — james potter x reader

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

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

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

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

fem!reader 8k words

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His heart rate spikes. This is his chance.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

James shrugs. “Why not?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’re late James!!!!

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

Sirius is gonna wring ur neck

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

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

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

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

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

“James!” You gasp, stopping short.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah. See you around, angel.”

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

-

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

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

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

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

“Y/N?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

There, standing at the counter, is James Potter.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“James,” you say.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, please,” you say, breathless.

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

You shrug. “I don’t care, James.”

“You should. You look lovely.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What? What’s that mean?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, did you drive here?” He asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N,” he says, sing-song.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So? There’s no one in here but us.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

[shadowbriar]

James Potter - Traitor

Pairing : James Potter x (she/her) Reader Word Count : 1.9k Warning : Cliffhanger (sort of). Not proofread as always. Synopsis : As gracious and angelic Lily Evans is, she couldn’t help but to see her as some villain who might steal him away. Notes : Inspired by this request and Olivia Rodrigo - Traitor. Pretty sort as I don't know if anon would like a happy or sad ending? If you like this story and would like to support me, please visit my kofi page and perhaps get me a coffee?☕ James Potter's Masterlist click here. Taglist : @jsjcue @ell0ra-br3kk3r @sofiacblair @coffeehurricanes @ineedmentalhelp123

She should’ve known better. She should’ve known that when he pulled that stunt at the Great Hall, proclaiming his feelings and just how desperate he’s been to get her attention, that it was only a projection of the words he wanted to confess to another. She should’ve known that when he looked at her with those eyes that were filled with love, it would never compare to the affection he hoards for another. She should’ve known that with every promise, every sweet nonsense he whispered to her ears, they were truly addressed for another.

The signs were laid bare for her to see. From the way he stopped holding her hands in the hallway to making up excuses and cancelling their dates. His kisses have turned into quick pecks before they’re gone altogether. The jokes he used to share have stopped coming. Dissipating into thin air with no warning.

Supposedly it was her fault. She should’ve said something, calling him out from the lack of effort he’s been showing but she knew she was pulling on a thin thread. Their relationship has always been based on a frail foundation. She knew that deep down there was no other woman that could topple his first love, so she kept quiet. Crying herself to sleep and praying to whoever might listen out there to help salvage their relationship. Anything to keep him just a little bit longer.

“Love, you left your hair tie in my room,” James says once he takes a seat, busying himself with the stack of pancakes in front of him.

She takes the unassuming item and examines it. This hair tie wasn’t hers. She doesn’t have bright orange hair ties, “This isn’t mine, James.”

“Oh,” He responded, taking the item and placing it in his pocket nonchalantly “Must be Lily’s then.”

“Lily?”

“Yeah, we had an impromptu study session last night after our rounds. She helped me with my potion essays.”

“But we promised to do that essay together,” She says, forcing a smile as she tries her best to conceal her disappointment and heartbreak “I waited for you to have some free time so we can work on it together.”

“Yes well, like I said, it was an impromptu session. We finished our rounds earlier than expected so we figured we could use the free time to do the assignment.” He explained, still oblivious to the harm done to her heart “Shouldn’t you be proud I’ve finally managed to finish an assignment earlier than due? This is a huge improvement for me, don’t you think?”

Her head nods, another pretend smile decorating her face. James looks happy and proud of his achievement. It was true. When else would you find James Potter diligently working his schoolwork? He’s always been one of those students who waits for the adrenaline rush of working everything at the last minute. He’s brilliant, perhaps too brilliant to ever spare an hour in revising his notes and making flashcards for the upcoming exams, so this certainly is a huge improvement to celebrate for. If only it wasn’t because of Lily.

“You’ve been spending more time with Lily, lately.” She points out. Her hands were shaking, knowing that the pool she’s stepping in might be deeper than it seems and she might not know how to swim to the shore but she needed to start somewhere. She needs to save their relationship somehow.

James’ brows furrow, a slight sign of disagreement, “Not really. Our rounds just happened to be scheduled together a lot this month.”

“Well, you also cancelled our study date last week for her.”

“Yeah, that’s because she needed my help with Divination.”

A rude laughter escapes her, “You’re the worst from our House in Divination, James. She doesn’t need your help.”

“Where are you going with this?” He finally snaps, turning to face her with evident annoyance in his eyes “I thought you would be happy with me finally trying to fix my grades.”

“I am. I just didn’t realise that needed to be done by increasing the amount of time you share with your ex-crush.”

“Oh, so you’re jealous?”

She was quiet now. Sure it was jealousy that plagued her mind the first time he began drifting away but these days, these days she’s only been insecure and worried for their sinking ship. Anxiety over the chance of her being replaced by someone who has always had his heart has been haunting her nights. As gracious and angelic Lily Evans is, she couldn’t help but to see her as some villain who might steal him away.

“You’re being paranoid, again.” James scoffs, turning completely blind and deaf to her silent agony “There’s nothing going on between me and Lily. I’m trying to fix my grades for me. She just happens to be a great teacher and companion to help me study.”

She's still quiet, weighing if she should believe his words.

"Please, I don't want to fight," James sighs, dropping the fork on his hand and taking hers to show his sincerity "She's just a friend, I promise."

There was truly nothing left for her to say that wouldn’t act as petrol to their burning bridge. James wasn’t listening. For a while now he hasn’t truly cared about a word she’s said and it was painful to finally understand this. That he might never have been as sincere as she thought him to be. Or perhaps he did, once, yet that feeling has died a long time ago with no chance of revival. His feelings for her have withered, faded into nothingness.

And it’s only a matter of time before the flame in her heart dies too.

—-

It was a nasty fall.

She couldn’t remember the last time she felt this much worry and cried so much from something Madam Promfrey claims as ‘nothing but a light nudge on the head’, but she was there when the bludger hit his head. She was there when James began losing balance of his broom and falling to the hard ground. She was there when the team crowd around their passed out captain.

Her eyes were getting heavy now. The watch on her wrist has shown that she has skipped dinner a few hours ago. Some of the lights on the hospital wing have been turned off, making the hall darker as night falls deeper. If it wasn’t for the boys coming to visit James half an hour ago, she would be left starving and secretly creeped out by the eerie feeling of the infirmary.

“You should get some rest, Love, you’ve been waiting here for hours.” Remus advises, giving her shoulder a slight squeeze.

“He should be up anytime soon, now,” She reasoned as she looked up to see the tall boy “I want to be there when he wakes up.”

“Trust me, Dove, knowing Prongs, he might just sleep in till tomorrow,” Sirius added “Besides, you won’t miss a thing. He’ll still be the same obnoxious Potter tomorrow morning.”

A small curl of smile tugs on her lips.

“Come on, I’ll walk you back to your dorm.” Peter offers this time.

“You don’t have to, Wormy. I’m fine—”

“Dove, please,” Sirius begs “You look awful. And I mean this in the most endearing way but you could really use a bath.”

“Thank you, Pads,” She rolls her eyes, finally standing from her seat and glaring at the raven haired boy “Your honesty is always something I could count on, even in the darkest time.”

Sirius grins, nodding, “I am a man of honour.”

“Let me know if anything happens? If he wakes up?”

“We will,” Remus reassures “Goodnight, Love.”

With a last bid of hug and ignoring the still awful churning feeling in her gut, she links arm with Peter and walks out of the hospital wing. It’s been hours since she’s waited for her boyfriend to wake up from his sleep and the fatigue plaguing her body has only been recognised as she takes further steps away from the infirmary. Perhaps the worry has amplified the soreness of her muscles. It’s never an easy life dating the Captain of Gryffindor team.

She hates to admit it, but she might really need that bath Sirius was talking about.

And just when they were about to exit the tower, her brain reminded her of her left satchel, “Shoot, I forgot something.” She groans, letting out a frustrated sigh “Give me ten minutes?”

“Is it that important?” Peter asks “We can just bring it to you later.”

“I’ll be quick, I promise. I have to finish my paper for the first period tomorrow, I need to get my satchel.”

Peter only nods at her as she begins running back to the ward. Truth be told, she’s finished the paper as she waited for James earlier. Leaving her satchel was completely by accident and she could’ve just continued walking back to her dormitory and ask the boys to bring it to her later, but why would she pass up a chance to see her boyfriend one last time?

“So did she come?”

A smile blooms on her face as she hears James’ voice echoes faintly. He’s up.

“Of course she did, she waited for you for hours.” Sirius answers “She’s your girlfriend, Prongs, she never left.”

“Oh,” James answered, the disappointment dripping from his tone slows down her steps “I was asking about Lily, actually.”

There was a pause. She could see Sirius and Remus exchanging a glance from behind their backs. If it wasn’t for the curtain blocking James’ view, he would’ve seen her coming.

“So did she come?” James asks again.

“No, Prongs. Why would she come?” Remus asks, his tone slightly rising in annoyance.

“I don’t know,” James answers “I thought we were getting closer. I just figured she’d want to check on me.”

“Well, she didn’t,” Sirius says this time, the same level of irritation evident in his tone “Why are you even thinking of her? You have a brilliant girlfriend who cares for you. Who literally spent hours sitting on that awful chair, worried about your bonked head, and the first thing you asked about when you woke up was Lily?”

“It was just a question, Pads. No need to get all worked up on me.”

“Well, your question is rubbish, Prongs.”

“Why are you—”

“Hey guys,” She says, finally showing herself from behind the curtain “Sorry, I left my satchel. Oh, hello James, you finally woke up.”

She could see the surprise on James’ eyes that he quickly blinked away with a sweet smile, “Hello, Darling.”

“I’m glad you’re up. Are you feeling okay?”

“Still dizzy, but I’ll live.” He says warmly “Will you stay with me tonight?”

“Uh, no, I need to finish my papers.” She says instead, fighting the loud ringing in her ears from the heartache “Besides, you need all the rest you could get. I wouldn’t want to bother you.”

“But you wouldn’t—”

“I really need to go. Peter is waiting for me,” She cuts in “Good night, James.”

She glances at Remus and Sirius for a brief moment. Staring at them for too long would make all the dam she’s trying to uphold break lose and the last thing she’d want to do tonight would be to cry in front of James. No, she would not give him that satisfaction. It is one thing to deny and avoid all of her questions and another to actually dismiss her presence. Perhaps it's time for her to accept that the heart James wears on his sleeve was never hers to begin with.

As she walks out of the infirmary for the second time tonight, she could hear Sirius’ curse faintly, “You’ve lost her for good now, Prongs.”

[moonstruckme]

Can you maybe do something with one of the marauders being protective of reader (not poly just a marauder of your choice)

Thanks for requesting!

cw: slightly possessive behavior

roommate!James x fem!reader ♡ 883 words

“Who-oa.” James gawps as you walk past his room, and you turn your head to hide a little smile. “Where are you going so dolled up?”

Your smile slips, brow pinching. “Do I look dolled up?” You backtrack a couple of steps, stopping in front of James’ doorway. “Is it too much?” 

“I don’t think so,” he says, regarding you from where he sits on his bed. He leans back on his hands. “You look nice. I only say ‘dolled up’ because you’ve got a tad more makeup on than usual, and you’re wearing that top that makes your eyes look pretty. I guess, ah, whether it’s too much might depend on where you’re going. Which is…?”

“Is the makeup that obvious?” 

“No, but I see you every day. Where are you going?” 

“Dinner.” You blow out a breath, starting back down the hall. 

You hear James’ mattress squeak, and then he’s following you. Down the stairs and into the kitchen. “Dinner with whom, may I ask?” 

“A friend of a friend. Have you seen my chapstick?” 

“Is this a date?” 

You pause for a second in your search before jump-starting again. “Using the word makes me nervous.” 

“Sorry,” James laughs, the sound like sunlight refracting off water. It relaxes you slightly. “I thought you hated going on dates.” 

“I’m trying to get over it.” You check behind the coffee maker, frowning. “Seriously, I don’t have another tube of chapstick. I thought I left it in here yesterday.” 

“Did you maybe put it in your bag when we went for pizza last night?” 

James’ eyes crease with his smile when your expression lightens. “You’re so right,” you say, starting back for the stairs. “Thanks.” 

“No problem. So, have you met this guy before?” 

“Nope.” In your haste you miss a step, but James’ hand is right there to steady you. You keep going. “It’s like an arranged marriage, except instead of meeting him at the altar I’m meeting him when he picks me up.” 

“Charming. And when is he picking you up?” 

“Any minute now.” Your voice is pitchy with false cheer, betraying the hummingbird-fast beating of your heart. 

“Doesn’t it worry you that you’re entrusting your safety for the night to this man you’ve never met?” 

Your hands are actually trembling as you grab the chapstick from the bag you’d used last night, sticking it in your pocket. “It does, yeah. Thanks for the reminder.” 

You turn back around, but James catches you. His hands are warm on your upper arms and his gaze is kind. Steady. 

“Sorry,” he says, “I’m not trying to freak you out. I just want to make sure you’ll be okay. Are you bringing your alarm?” 

“It’s a public place, James. Ideally he’s not the type to try anything regardless, but surely he won’t in a restaurant.” He looks dissatisfied. “But yes, it’s in my pocket.” 

“Attagirl.” James gives your arms a squeeze before releasing you, flopping down on your bed. 

It’s not a second later that the doorbell rings and he’s popping right back up again, hot on your heels as you go down the stairs. 

“What are you doing?” you hiss, batting him away as you go for the door. “Go be somewhere else!” 

James holds up his hands in surrender and sits down on the couch, but his eyes are trained on the door as you open it up to greet the man outside. 

“Hi,” you say, plastering on a smile. 

“Hi.” He smiles back. He’s handsome, well-dressed, and carrying flowers. You’re instantly charmed. “Are you y/n? My friend gave me this address.” 

“Yeah,” you laugh, and it comes out awkward and pitchy. “Yeah, that’s me.” 

“And you are?” Suddenly James is behind you, leaning over your shoulder.

Your date blinks. He says his name like it’s a question. 

“Sorry, this is just my roommate.” You laugh again, the nerves in it even more prominent now, and try to shoulder James back from the door. 

Unfortunately, James is an immovable wall of solid muscle. He acts like he doesn’t notice. “Nice to meet you. And your last name?” 

“James!” You turn to him, appalled. Tell your date, “Ignore him. I’m so sorry.” 

“I just feel like it’d be good information to have,” James says with a shrug. You think he’s trying to look intimidating, but it’s really not a very practiced air on him. His big frame does something to make up for it though, biceps bulging where they’re crossed in front of his chest. To you, he still looks decidedly huggable, but your date appears as though he’s garnered a different impression. 

“But anyway, you two have fun.” James smiles. You’d have to really know him to know he doesn’t mean it. “Enjoy dinner, and have her back by ten.” 

You and your date both chuckle, though you can tell from your roommate’s expression that he’s not fully joking. He keeps up the affable grin anyway. 

“Okay, dad,” you tease, squeezing out the door and starting down the front steps. Your date follows. “I’ll see you later.” 

“See you at ten.” James steps into the doorframe, waving. “I’ll be here. Don’t forget that your safety alarm is in your pocket!”

Your face heats. When you get home, you’re going to kill him.

[ddejavvu]

Your best friend James with no boundaries is such perfect James I can’t even 😩 I feel like after a while James rubs off on you and you don’t even think about it anymore. Like all of a sudden you’re bursting in on him in the shower to ask him a simple question, you’re taking your bra off immediately when you get to his room to get comfy, you’re touching him and being affectionate in ways that is definitely more than friends. And every time James is just doe eyed in love 😍 like you’re my bestie, darling 🥺 Meanwhile Sirius and Remus are watching like 😳 did that just happen? That’s not normal best friend behaviour

"Where's James?" You waste no time in pushing the door to the boys' dorms open, interrogating Sirius and Remus who've occupied themselves with what looks like a mountain of classwork.

"He's in the shower, you can- wait for him on his bed-!" Sirius watches as you beeline for the bathroom, standing to stop you when he realizes you're about to walk in on James.

"Y/N, don't-!" He tries, but you've nudged the door open, and you don't stop there. You make for the shower curtain and Sirius stands frozen in his spot, wondering if he's going to be fired as the group's official guard dog.

"Jamie?" You call, sticking your head between the shower curtain and the wall. James turns where he'd been unknowingly showcasing his broad, muscled back, soapy and lathered with suds.

"Oh-! Y/N, hi," He grins, working a sponge over his side, "What's up?"

'What's-' Sirius turns to Remus, mouthing an echo of your words in confusion. Remus has nothing to offer; in fact, he looks weary as he sits back in his seat and listens.

"Do you think I can borrow your scarf today? The girls 'n I were going to Hogsmeade but it's really cold, and I think I lost my scarf in the forest."

"Yeah, 's in my trunk, bird," James nods, conversation flowing easily despite James's lack of attire as he bends lower to scrub at his thighs, "Y'know where my trunk is, yeah?"

"Under your bed?" You confirm, and he nods again.

"Get the boys to help you drag it out, m'love,"

"Right. Thanks Jamie," You grin, leaning in to kiss the soaked skin of his cheek. He grins brightly, letting his own lips press to your much drier face.

You leave the bathroom once more to be met with Sirius and Remus's mildly disgruntled expressions, and they stare at you like they hadn't heard James's request for grunt muscle.

"Can you... help me with his trunk? He said I could borrow his scarf." You repeat, pointing timidly in the direction of his bed.

"Why don't you just take his boxers, too?" Sirius's nose wrinkles as he grimaces, "I bet they're jealous you see his dick more than they do."

[cyripticchronicler]

Ink and Destiny - James Potter

In a world full of soulmates, the last thing you'd expect is James Potter to be yours.

Warnings: Soulmate au, swearing

Masterlist

Part two Part three Part four

The Hogwarts Library was always your place to go if you needed to escape. Nothing but the quiet turns of pages and whispers to keep you company. It was where you found yourself on a lazy Sunday afternoon, wanting to catch up on some reading. 

As you scan the old shelves you pause at the sight of an old book. It wasn’t the fact it was old that drew your attention, no there were many old books in Hogwarts, it was the name of the book. ‘How To Find Your Soulmate.’

My soulmate. You’ve never cared for my soulmate. Never tried to write to him on your arm like everyone else. And he never did either. 

And even though you deny it, it’s rather lonely. Maybe that’s why you pick up the book. To fill the loneliness in your heart. 

The book opens on the first step and you read eagerly;

Start conversations with them

You scoff, no shit. You slam the book shut and place it back on the shelf. You wouldn’t even know what to say to him. 

There are limits to what you can say. You can’t say your name, where you live or anything that can reveal your identity straight away.

But as you find an empty table, planning to catch to do some homework, you grab your quill, dunking it in ink, pausing above your arm. 

A droplet of ink falls from the quill and onto your arm and you swear quietly. The ink shimmers until it’s gone. 

Not allowing yourself to think, you write a sloppy ‘sorry’ on your arm and get back to your homework. 

You block it from your mind, ready to forget about the whole situation. But as you exit the library you can’t help but glance at your arm, tensing at the sight of black ink across your arm. 

“It’s alright, Love. How are you?”

You don’t respond until you are back in the confines of your dormitory, responding with a hurried, “I’m alright. How are you?”

He responds immediately and you cross your legs on your bed eagerly.

“Better now that I’m talking to you.” You roll your eyes, knowing a playboy when you see one- or read one per se.

You ignore him, going downstairs into the Gryffindor common room to hang out with your friends. 

Your eyes roll once again when you hear James Potter’s loud voice at the top of the stairs, his voice getting louder as you make your way down the stairs. 

“-Hasn’t responded,” James says, his voice laced with defeat. You ignore him, smiling when you find Lily painting her nails in the corner. 

You place your hands down on the table, smiling sheepishly and she rolls her eyes before starting to paint your nails.

“I did something,” You mutter shyly and she raises her eyebrow in question. “I talked to my soulmate.” 

She grins brightly before falling slightly, “James did too. He's talking about it really loudly.”

You tense, shrugging your shoulders, “So? It’s not like we’re going to be soulmates. I hate him.”

She relaxes slightly, going back to painting your nails a pretty pink, “Yeah. You can’t be soulmates with someone you hate. What did you say anyway?”

You nod in agreement, recalling the things you said just moments ago.

You converse until she’s finished your nails and then you both make your way downstairs for dinner. 

Not looking where you’re going, you bang into a hard chest, looking up, you scowl at the man in front of you.

“Sorry, Love.” James grins, letting go of your waist. You tense. Love? It’s just a coincidence. Heaps of people call someone Love.

You nod your head silently and walk around him, your stomach rumbling with hunger.

—-

“Are you still ignoring me?”

You roll your eyes at the message on your arm. It’s been three days since you first talked to him, three days since you started ignoring him.

Lily notices the message on my arm, wiggling her eyebrows playfully before leaning into whisper, “Respond. He can’t be that bad.”

You shake your head in disagreement but go to respond anyway. 

“Yes.”

His response was immediate, “What did I do?”Your cheeks are flushed as you respond. He didn’t even do anything, “Nothing.”

“That’s very helpful, thank you.” You roll my eyes as more words appear on your arm, “Why is Professor McGonagall so creepy?” 

You laugh quietly in agreement, sneaking a look at the front from where she’s watching Sirius and James like a hawk. 

You freeze. It’s just a coincidence. 

“She’s not that bad.”

“She probably likes you.”

You laugh quietly, “You probably mess around too much.”

“You got me there, I do like a good prank.” You freeze again, everything pointing to James Potter. As subtle as you can, you peek over at where he’s sitting, hunched over his desk, quill in his hand. He’s probably just taking notes.

It’s not like you hate James, it's just he’s loud, and arrogant. But he’s cute, you’ll give him that.

You scan the room, noting many other people with quills in their hand. It could be anyone.

“Do you play quidditch?”

You watch James tense, looking around before slouching again.

“As a matter of fact, I do. I’m the seeker.”

You tense. He can’t be my soulmate. 

You pull up your sleeve immediately, not wanting anything to do with him.

Maybe you're being too harsh. You’ve only talked to him once and that was when you walked into him. But you’ve heard things about him. How he always pranks people, how his ego is as big as Hogwarts himself. 

You sigh, pulling your sleeve up again, “Gryffindor seeker?”

His handwriting comes out shaky, “Yes.”

Fuck. What do you say? Should you meet him?

You jump when everyone starts packing up. You follow suit, ignoring the way James’s eyes are roaming around the room. 

You ignore his gaze as you make your way out of the classroom. It’s only when you’re in potions class that you look at your arms again. “Do you want to meet?”

You decide to answer truthfully, “I’ve heard things about you. I’m not sure I like you.” Was that rude?

“Maybe you should meet me before assuming things about me.”

“Astronomy tower. 10pm”

“See you then, Love.”

You don’t look at your arm for the rest of the day. Only when you're sneaking through Hogwarts and making your way to the tower do you let yourself be nervous.

I’m about to meet my soulmate, you think, James Potter is my soulmate. 

You pause at the sight of James pacing the tower, hands wringing together. You don’t let yourself think, walking through the door and making yourself known. 

His head whips around, eyes widening at the sight of you standing there. 

“You.” He whispers, eyes roaming your face.

“Me,” You whisper back, letting your eyes trace his face. He really is beautiful.

“I sure hit the jackpot,” He says playfully and you smile, cheeks flushed, “What bad things have you heard about me?” He asks, slowly stalking closer. 

“Things,” You mutter, running your fingers across the balcony edge, “Like your ego is huge and you’re a dick.”

His eyebrows raise, “My ego is huge but I wouldn’t call myself a dick.” He stalks even closer, your bodies almost touching. 

“I guess I’ll have to see for myself.” You state and he nods his head in agreement. 

“How about a date? On Saturday near the lake.” You pretend to think for a moment, though your mind is already made up.

“You have one chance, Potter. One chance to prove yourself to me.”

His eyes narrow playfully, head moving closer, “What about you, L/N? I’ve heard things about you too.” 

You laugh, “Like what?”

He smiles, “Like you read too much.”

You scoff, “Forgive me for my sins.”

“I will on our date.”

Your eyes narrow, his forehead touching yours, “Deal.”

[luveline]

i see ur thinking abt the marauders and i was just thinking abt them too!! i just saw a thread on twt abt how much men hate their girlfriends but wont break up with them (😖😖) and couldn't stop thinking abt how james would be so BAFFLED reading it!! would you be able to write something for that? its perfectly fine if not!! ily <33

I luv you! I'm not sure what thread you mean but I made a guess, sorry if it's not right ♡ fem, 1k

modern au. cw mention of toxic/hurtful relationships

"What is that?" James asks, pushing the sheets back as he climbs in beside you. His bowl of cereal is heaping, upwards of ten weetabix doused in milk, sugar, raspberries, blueberries, and a generous squeeze of honey.

"What?" you ask, showing him your phone screen. 

James leans over you to scroll back up. "Men who hate their girlfriends?" 

"Oh, it's like, people posting their screenshots, I think." You click on the tweet he'd been pointing at and show him the replies underneath. "It's just boys who act like they don't love their partners but won't break up with them either, there's loads on there." 

"What?" he asks, holding his bowl in one hand. "Can I?" You give him your phone happily, watching as he reads through some of the examples, screenshots from different websites and forums. "'Recently had to tell a friend's bird that he was calling her all sorts of names. I'm loyal to my friends, but you could hear the hatred in his voice sometimes. She left him two days later and he was surprised, for some reason.'"

James' eyebrows pinch. He continues, "'Am I in the wrong for asking my husband to stay awake with me during my early morning labour? He keeps bringing it up.'" James shows you your phone screen. "Like, he's mad she didn't let him sleep through the birth of their child?" 

"You know, there was a video on there a few weeks ago where a girl had put together a compilation of her boyfriend play fighting with her, and each video got nastier and nastier." You reach for the spoon to his bowl to start chopping up the weetabix the way he likes. "He was kicking her legs from under her and she was laughing it off. Once or twice, I'd think it was funny, but he wasn't even laughing himself." 

"Why the fuck?" James asks. 

"I don't know. Can I have a raspberry?" 

"They're in there for you to steal…" James watches you chew. You try not to pay too much attention to his staring, plopping your phone down in the sheets between your legs. "Why are these boys getting with women they don't like?" 

"I don't know, Jamie," you tell him honestly, wading through his bowl for another raspberry. "I think they get comfortable." 

He accepts the spoon back from you and you slouch down the fabric headboard together. James eats his weetabix slowly, the TV sending a light blue light into your otherwise dark room. "It's a bit late for supper," you murmur. "Were you hungry?" 

James puts his bowl on the nightstand. Coils of curls brush your forehead as he leans down, one big hand on the back of your neck and the other stretched across the shoulder furthest away from him, holding you in place as he kisses the top of your head. It's a weighty kiss, full of love. "I love you. Don't ever let anyone treat you like those boys on your phone, yeah?" 

You hum lightly. "That's what boys are like." 

"I know. I'm just begging you not to let people do that to you." He rubs your shoulder roughly, a massaging that hurts in the good way. "You know, if you can. I get that it's not their choice." 

"Yeah. I think people want so badly to be loved that they'll take the pretend kind. I was lucky to find you before you found someone else. You always make me happy." 

"This is what I mean," he whines, resting his cheek on your forehead. You sigh happily at his touch, more than ready for a night of his arms around you, a heavy leg thrown over your hips to lock you in. "You think you're lucky because of those dickheads." 

"No, it doesn't have anything to do with them. Just you." 

James sits up to turn your face to his. "Love you," he says, kissing you quickly. 

"Love you too. Don't stress about the phone, babe, you're not the audience they're looking for." 

James hears your teasing tone toward the end, poking your side. "What's that for?" 

"Nothing, just, you tried to follow me into the bathroom last night even when I told you I wasn't showering. If you're that eager to sit with me while I pee, I doubt you'll be the kind of guy who ends up on that forum." 

"It wasn't about the peeing, stop trying to shame me," he grumbles, again pulling you in for a hug, "it was separation anxiety. I miss you."

"I get why these women end up like that, though," you say quietly. "I get why they stay. If you started shoving me for a laugh or whatever, I'd think about this, because you love me. Does that make sense? I'm so happy right now that I wouldn't want to believe that you didn't love me anymore." 

"I know. It's fucking sad. I can't believe they do shit like that, it's pure selfishness." James settles back in his pillow. "I wouldn't ever do that shit to you. I know everyone says that, but I have to say it anyway." 

"I know, Jamie. Don't worry. I'm not worried about it, only talking." 

You offer him your hand. James takes it, rubs the back of it, brings it to his lips for a barely felt kiss. "Is there anything happy on that app?" he asks. 

"Uh, I saw a video of a baby girl who only stops crying when her cat comes to check on her. Or a pregnancy reveal where the boyfriend starts crying and begging her to get married." 

James rests his face on your shoulder, snuffling into your skin contentedly, "Ah, so my future. Put it on, angel." 

[0anonnymouslyours0]

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

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

this ones just fluffy- nothing too intense ;)

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

and you love it.

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

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

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

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

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

he pouts, and you smile softly at him.

"don't go?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"she is mine." he says indignantly.

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

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

"you very much are." marlene says.

"indeed." mary adds.

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

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

[hotchfiles]

lover to lover.

⋅☆⋅ mrsaluado's first xmas event ⋅☆⋅ masterlist

pairing: james x fem!reader.

summary: it's your first gift exchange as a couple and you are both dangerously lovesick.

content warnings: JUST FLUFF. I SWEAR.

word count: 1,4k

you felt silly, you felt like your gift was silly and felt even sillier for worrying so much about it your palms were sweaty even though it was very late at night and the house was surrounded by the whiteness of snow. this was your first christmas as james' girlfriend and even though you had been to his home before, that was the first time you would be staying the night as well.

to top that kind of pressure, it was the first year your gift to james would actually matter, you couldn't just give him a sweater, or a book or a coupon for free of charge homework help, it had to be good, it had to be meaningful.

and it was hard to do that for someone who had everything. he was the golden boy, not only were his parents generational wealth loaded, they were caring, loving and were always making sure he and his friends had everything they could ever need. how could anything you try to give him compare to that?

nonetheless, you tried your best, and now the party was over, the other three marauders black out drunk in sirius' room from spiked eggnogg mr. fleamont pretended not to see them drink and you on james' bed waiting for him to come back after helping them out.

his smile brightened up the whole room, even though the lights were on and the warmth in his eyes made you forget about any worries that surrounded your mind while he was gone. you stretched your arms to pull him in a hug after he closed the door, though he ignored completely, simply laying on top of you with all of his weight, forcing you to lay down as well. "honeyyyy, i'm so tired." he whined, his cheek touching yours as he spoke.

one of your hands went to his arm, while the other played with his hair, he was such a baby when he wanted to, but you were lovesick, dangerously lovesick, so it was endearing to you. "no gifts today, then?" that made him get up in a jump, excitement filling him with the energy he had lost to sleepiness.

"nooooo, not what i meant." he pouted, batting his beautiful eyelashes at you, you laughed, knowing that would be the reaction, he had been extremely curious by your present from the time you showed up engulfed in green flames inside his family's fireplace, a big heavy something, perfectly wrapped, to jamie written in your handwriting in a heart shaped note that he knew he would keep safe inside his wallet to the rest of his days.

you got the gift from his nightstand and handed it to him, the anxiety coming back again as you started overexplaining yourself to him, "wanted to make something special, but you have so much stuff i... didn't know what... so i asked your mum to help me with this. i know it's like, nothing super unique but... i don't know." you fumbled completely over your words and he looked so deep into your eyes you knew he was able to read your whole entire soul without even trying at all.

"even a rock you find on a road and decides it reminds you of me would be special." everything you do, everything you touch is special, is what he actually wants to say, but he refrains from it, carefully taking out the tape holding the wrapping paper together, refusing to rip it apart. his eyes sparkled when he saw the leather cover, his name golden along with his gryffindor quidditch number.

he opens it, not sure what would be inside, the first page had your handwriting again, written in red and filled with doodle hearts: my quidditch lover boy, know that wherever you play, i will always be your biggest cheerleader.

the rest was pictures, from the first one his mum took of him with a broom when he was still barely a person, his little arms holding tight to his dad. the first time he flew alone to show them. the letter he sent when he made the gryffindor team, his first captain's armband, tickets from matches he went with his father. the last picture was from his last victory, you both kissing with the biggest smiles while sirius covered you both with red paint.

it was a good thing he never pretended to be one of those emotionless guys, because his nose was red, his eyes watering as you heard him sniffing. "this... honey, this is the most beautiful thing." his fingers passed over the picture, with such care it seemed he was afraid to ruin it, he pulled you into a hug and then lifted your chin to face him, his lips touching yours like you were a treasure he needed to protect. you felt the saltiness of his tears and you couldn't help but laugh, it was just too adorable.

james let go of you, but not before kissing your whole face. he found a spot on his desk for your present, where it would be the first thing anyone spotted when looking around his room, and then took a small box and a piece of parchment from the first drawer of his nightstand. "m'feeling a tad inadequate now, mine isn't as thoughtful but... ms. euphemia did help me with it too." you laughed at the way he talked of his mum, "i wanted to give you some sort of jewelry, but everything i chose was simply grim, james darling." he gestured air quotes while trying to get his mother's tone across.

he handed you the velvet box, parchment still in hand as he waited for you to open, you were still stunned by the information he wanted to give you jewelry, you felt like your heart and your stomach were dancing and twirling around inside of you as how official that sounded. opening the box you find a beautiful, seemingly antique, silver ring, it had a red gem on top in the form of a triangle. you were completely speechless as you touched it lightly.

"m'dad proposed with that ring." your eyes widened at that, positive you were gonna pass out at any moment. "it's very old, and it's been in our family for generations, if you look closely you can see a symbol, the triangle one is for my invisibility cloak."

"james, this is beautiful, but... i can't accept this, it's a family heirloom i... it belongs to your family." you couldn't even look at him, you were out of breath, out of words, out of ways to react.

"yeah, that's sorta it. you're part of my family now." he takes the ring out of the box and slides it on your right index finger, so not to pressure you, so you knew it was a present, a promise of commitment, but not an obligation or a way to imprison you to him. "and my mum kept this for years, i had no idea, she says it's adorable, so..." james hands you the parchment finally, and you open it to see the date on top, stating it was a letter from two years before.

a letter he sent to his mum, from hogwarts, talking about you.

he went on and on talking about sometimes he felt like his heart was gonna jump out of his chest when you were around and that wasn't normal, that didn't happen before. and how he could smell your perfume before even seeing you had got into the room.

he was fifteen and down bad for his best friend and was so confused he asked his mum for advice. it was indeed the most adorable thing. and euphemia was so sure something would come out of it she kept the letter. you had to put it down on his bed so you wouldn't wet it with your tears. "you're such a sap oh my god." you said in a mocking tone even though you were the one crying like an absolute baby.

"enjoy it now, next year you're getting a simply grim necklace and a honeydukes discount coupon." james replied matter-of-factly, but his grin and his eyes showed how glad he was that you had enjoyed the gifts that much, "i love you too much, you're gonna wake up one day and m'gonna have inflated and exploded by how much." you couldn't even reply to that with anything other than a loud laugh, your hands quickly going over your mouth when you remembered how late it was.

you felt his weight over you again, but this time before he could be completely over you using you as a mattress, he slides beside you, pulling you closer to him, and closing his eyes. "merry christmas, lover boy." is the last thing you say before falling asleep in his embrace.