#james potter imagine

[luveline]

coworker!james and readers first kiss pretty pretty please? with cherry on top? i love these pining idiots in love so much!

ty for requesting <3 fem, 1.4k

“What are you doing?” 

A warm voice and a warmer hand pressed to your shoulder. You hide the mug under your palm and look up, finding yourself face to face with a grinning James. 

His glasses make his eyes a little smaller than they are in actuality. Closer, you can see all the different shades that surround his pupils, and his hedging of dark lashes, so dark it’s like he’s wearing makeup. 

“Nothing.” 

“It doesn’t look like nothing.” His hand remains on your shoulder, a brand as the other grabs at a torn corner of a packet you’d failed to throw away. Your lips part in horror, but he can’t be stopped now. “Um, excuse me, lovely girl, but you wouldn’t know what this is off, would you?” 

“Me?” 

“You, yeah.” 

“Um…” You squint at the packaging in mock confusion. “No, don’t think so.” 

“Well, there’s one way to get to the bottom of this.” 

He moves his hand, for which you’re thankful and disappointed at once. It had been close to a hug, that warmth lingering as James opens the kitchen cupboard and sorts through tens of boxes before pulling down a hastily returned cardboard box. ‘JAMES’ has been written across it in bold sharpie. 

He slips out a hot chocolate sachet from the box and compares the scrap he’d found to the corner. They are, unfortunately, an exact match. 

“Where do you get the audacity?” he asks plainly. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“So what’s that, then?” 

“It’s nothing,” you say, sliding the mug further away from you both. 

There’s a silence. James puts the box back in the cupboard and peers at you where you’re curling in on yourself. He’s trying to intimidate you, at least for fun, something weighted and smiley about his gaze as he slides his arm between you and the counter. “If it’s nothing,” he says quietly, “then show it to me.” 

You angle your face up to explain yourself. He’d looked sad, tired even, and you’d hoped making him a cup of hot chocolate would cheer him up. Things between you lately are clearly different, not just to you but to everyone around you. All your interactions feel watched. James’ hand curling against your waist doesn’t even feel new, it just feels firm. 

A big hand, his thumb pressing into your soft stomach. 

Your breath catches as he moves you out of his way. 

“Is this my mug, too?” he asks, all tension draining, your relief a quick breath. (Your disappointment somewhere hidden beneath it.) “You’re the cheekiest girl alive. Shame on you.” 

You give him a strange look. He can’t ignore it, you’re too obvious. 

“What?” he asks, nudging the mug back toward your hand. 

For a second you…

“I’m just kidding,” he says, his eyes widening the longer you remain speechless. “You don’t have to panic. I’m joking, I don’t care.” 

“I was making it for you,” you say. 

James’ brows relax. “You were?” 

You give him the mug, and you don’t know what to do, what can you do? If you linger he’ll work out what you’re thinking, he has a detector for all your most embarrassing thoughts, you’re sure of it. You nod emphatically and weave around him without another word. 

“Y/N,” he says to your back. The door handle is cold in your hand. You almost walk straight into it. “Y/N, wait a second!” 

You turn around, weary of a scene. “I’m fine,” you say, startled by his reaction, “I just need a minute.” 

“What’s wrong?” he asks. 

“I’m fine.” You summon your most convincing smile. Your heart bends against your ribs. “Really.” 

You leave him standing in the kitchen, nonplussed, rushing out of the main part of the office and down the two flights of stairs. Out past the receptionists, down the concrete steps, where you stop at the bottom, and sit down hard. 

What are you doing? 

Where can you go? You can’t go anywhere. James is going to know exactly what it is that made you react like that, is going to realise you have feelings for him entirely outside of the common realm. And you’ll have to keep sitting at your adjacent desks pretending it’s not true. 

Why would he do that to you? His hand on your waist turning you toward him, your faces much closer than they’d ever been. James must know that’s an intimate touch. 

He’s messing with you. 

You spend five minutes glancing out at the car park before he comes to join you. It’s awful that you know that it’s him. The wind blows in pangs against the side of your face. 

“I’m really sorry,” James says, sitting on the second to last step beside you, a strange lack of space between your two bodies. “I didn’t mean to do that to you. To freak you out.” 

“It’s okay.” 

“I really didn’t. I know I’ve messed with you before, but you were looking at me like…” 

You rub your eye, a migraine brewing behind it. “Like what?” you ask. 

“I don’t know. Like that.” 

“How was I looking at you?” 

“I don’t know. Like I– Like I broke your heart.” He laughs ‘cos it’s stupid, but his laugh peters off strangely. 

“James, you were looking at me like you were…” What’s unsaid stays heavily between you. 

He looks off to the side, his hand coming up behind his hand to scratch his hair. Curls pull and plink as his fingers comb through them, he’s rough, but the lengths of his hair are shiny under what little of the sun floods through the cloud cover above. You watch him, stomach aching for an answer, some confirmation, but the more you look the less sure you are that you need it. Everything you feel for him wells to the surface. It’s hot, and urgent, and it’s getting too much for you to hold alone. 

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” he admits quietly. 

“James,” you say, wanting him like a palpable wound. Wanting him to need you too. “James,” you say again, putting your hand on his thigh carefully. 

He covers it instinctively. “What?” he asks. 

“Please, can I…” 

His eyes bore into yours, and follow your gaze when it tips down to his mouth. 

The skin between his brow creases with one deep wrinkle, his full lips twisted into a heart-hurting frown as he leans in. You close your eyes before he can close his own, waiting for him, to kiss you and to get this tugging yearning dealt with, but he doesn’t kiss you. His breath warms your lips and he turns to you completely, but he doesn’t kiss you. 

You want it so badly, you tip your chin up and press your lips to his. Terrified of him, because you really are in the palm of his hand now. It’s worse than when he hated you. 

He has the power to be a thousand times more cruel than he ever had before as you kiss him softly. 

James kisses back a second too late. He’s giving in to it and you’re pulling away, pins and needles in your hands. “Wait,” he says, his voice a shade of longing you’ve never heard, your eyes flashing open at the same time. His hand leaps for your waist. “Wait, please.” 

His fingers press into the dough of your side, holding you still, butterflies alive and riveted under his hand. 

You close your eyes on a whim, and he kisses you soundly. His lips part against yours to encourage a similar movement, his head tilted ever so slightly to one side and your noses smudged together. “Please,” he murmurs against your lips. 

You kiss him back like he kisses you. Soft, open-mouthed. 

His hand comes up to your face, pulling you forward, desperate to keep you close as he sighs against your mouth, the sound a vibration you feel at the back of your throat. 

Please, he’d said, like he wouldn’t get another go. 

Please. The tie on you snaps. 

You kiss him like you’ve never kissed anybody, hoping it isn’t just another obvious trick. 

[moonstruckme]

summary: when James moves into your apartment, you need a bit of an adjustment period

roommate!James x shy!reader ♡ 1k words

You go downstairs the way a meerkat pokes its head out of its burrow. Cautious, watchful. When you spot James standing over a sizzling pan in the kitchen, it’s a bit of effort not to sigh, but you go anyway, hunger temporarily taking priority over solitude. It’s just going to have to be another quick meal.

“Hey.” James looks up from a recipe he’s reading on his phone, grinning at you. 

You press your lips together in a smile of response. The girl who’d occupied James’ room before him wouldn’t have bothered to acknowledge you, and frankly, you’d liked her for that. You’d had a mutually ambivalent relationship; you’d both paid your rent, ignored the other’s food in the fridge, and gone about your days as if you each had the apartment to yourself. She had to move out because the maintenance crew tattled on her for having a pet, and though James only moved in a week ago, he’s invited you to hang out with his friends every time they’ve come over. Which is often. (He’s at least considerate enough to always ask first, and you always say yes. Partially because they don’t make huge messes and partially because you don’t know how to reply to a yes/no question any other way.) 

You go to the fridge, tearing the aluminum foil off a half-empty can of beans and shaking it into a bowl. You put it in the microwave. James reaches to turn down the stove, and, like a frightened animal, you flinch away from him. He doesn’t seem to notice, only retreating to the opposite counter to give you more room. 

“How’s your day going?” he asks, leaning back on his forearms. 

“Not bad,” you say. Another thing about James is that in addition to his relentless geniality, he’s ferociously attractive. It takes all of your willpower not to let your eyes dip from his face to where his short sleeves conform to his biceps when he leans that way, but your face heats regardless. “Yours?” 

“Pretty good, actually.” He smiles easily. “It’s gorgeous out, have you felt the weather?” 

You shake your head. “I haven’t been out yet.” 

James nods like he knows this already, humming noncommittally. You think you spy a bit of judgment in his look, but you can’t be sure. “So,” he says, “I have something to ask you.” 

You tense. “Okay…” 

“I know you value your privacy, and I totally respect that, but I feel like as your roommate it’s my responsibility to at least ask.” 

You feel your eyes narrowing as you nod for him to continue. 

James schools his face into seriousness, a frown on his lips that looks like it doesn’t belong. “Do you not eat?” 

You laugh, relieved and bemused. “Of course I eat.”

The smile he gives you is strained, clearly for your benefit rather than his. “You sure about that? Because this morning I just saw you have one—one—piece of toast for breakfast, and then for lunch you had…what?” 

You shy, more because of his notice than anything else. The microwave beeps and you use it as an excuse to turn around. “Some cheese and crackers.” 

When you pivot with the steaming bowl, James is looking at you incredulously.

“They’re really filling!” 

“That’s a snack, love, not a meal. Both of those are snacks. Did you have anything else?” 

You hold up the bowl in your hand. “I’m about to have some beans.” 

His laugh is monosyllabic. Appalled. “You’re not serious.” 

You roll your eyes at him even as your face heats. “Listen, it’s not my most nutritious day, but I’ve been in a rush, and…” You were going to say more, but decide against it. “Anyway, there’s protein in the beans, so.” 

James isn’t having it. “And what?” 

“Nothing.” 

“Something.” He raises his eyebrows at you. “C’mon, spill, or I’m going to call your mum and tell her about your big day of—“ He draws quotes in the air, full lips curving he does “—beans and crackers.” 

“And toast,” you joke. James’ smile is small and short-lived. Does he really have your mum’s phone number? He can’t possibly. 

You sigh. “Okay, it’s nothing to do with you, but I…I’m a bit weird about being in the kitchen at the same time.” James’ thick eyebrows meet in the middle, and your shoulders hunch instinctively but you force yourself to finish explaining. “I just want to grab whatever is quickest and go before I make things awkward, or something. But I know it’s stupid.” You shake your head. You could burn the apartment to cinders with the heat from your face. “I don’t own the kitchen. You have every right to be here, and I’ll get used to it eventually. It’s just that you’re new to me right now.” 

James' expression clears. “Oh, you’re shy.” 

You must look even more embarrassed at that, because he hurries to say, “That’s alright, it’s good to know how you feel about things. And now I don’t have to call your mum.” He grins, and it widens when you make a tiny effort to reciprocate. “I don’t mind stepping out of the kitchen so you can cook every now and then.”

“You really don’t have to.” 

“It’s no trouble.” He waves you off. “Honestly, it’s too small for both of us to comfortably use at the same time anyway. Careful by the way, that pan’s hot.” 

You glance behind you, and you’ve backed yourself nearly into the stove. You move away, squeaking out a thanks. 

James’ smile softens. “I do hope you're right about getting used to me eventually, though.” He gives you a kind look, and you have no idea how he can maintain eye contact with that much sincerity in his big brown eyes. You envy the skill. “I’d like to get to be friends, but we’ve got time for that.” 

You’ve no clue how to respond, some deer-in-the-headlights instinct taking ahold of you, but James doesn’t seem to be expecting one. He reaches out to squeeze your shoulder, taking back his place at the stove. You take that as your cue to go.

[pretty-little-mind33]

James Potter x fem!reader

Summary: Your brother's best friend teaches you pleasures you've never experienced before.

Genre: SMUT (nsfm)

Warnings: dark themes (kinda?), james is kinda morally grey in this, james is nineteen, reader is eighteen, reader is sirius's little sister (no physical descriptions!!), innocent!reader - she has never had an orgasm, sub!reader, virgin!reader, mean dom!james, swearing, corruption, penetrative sex, fingering, nipple play, oral sex (m receiving), degradation, praise, spanking, slapping (sexual), choking, exhibitionism, almost getting caught, crying from sexual overstimulation, reader is hesitant in the beginning but not unwilling, bleeding from loss of virginity.

~ this is absolutely filthy. enjoy. 😩🫶 ~

"Siri?" you ask as you adjust the hem of your dress.

Your brother's attention leaves his friends and he looks at you, his eyes narrowing, "What are you wearing?" he asks and crosses his arms, surprise obvious in his tone.

You smooth a hand over the silk, "A dress. I-I have a date," you explain.

"A date?" James Potter, Sirius's best friend, interrupts as he turns around. You see a glimmer in his hazel eyes as your eyes find his and take him in; how his hair is damp from a shower, the way his shirt hugs his shoulders, and the round, black-framed, glasses on his nose.

James sends you a smirk, "I didn't know you went on dates, Y/n/n," he teases.

Embarrassment flushes your cheeks and Sirius slaps his hand backwards to hit James's chest and push him away a little, "Shut up," He hisses. Then, he looks you dead in the eyes, "Who is it?"

"Huh?" 

"Your date? Who. Is. It?"

"William. You know, my friend? You've met him," you explain, a little surprised at Sirius's worry. William is kind, he's funny and he's safe.

You know loving him wouldn't hurt you like other boys would. 

Unconsciously, you glance at James and when he sees you looking at him he asks, "The super skinny one?" He is obviously suppressing a smile, and Sirius's shoulders visibly relax.

"Oh," your brother sounds reassured, "He's fucking harmless." 

"Harmless?" you ask but Sirius must have lost interest in your conversation because he just shoos you with his hand and starts a conversation with another one of his friends. 

You want to scream.

"Hey," James senses your annoyance, "What's up?" 

You tilt your head up at him, a little embarrassed to ask him. James has always made you a little nervous but these last months have been simply torturous and you don't understand why, "I don't have any cute jackets to match with my dress and I wanted to ask Sirius if he has one I could borrow." 

James chuckles, "You can borrow one of mine," he hovers a hand over the small of your back and turns you to the stairs that lead to the dorms. You nod and allow him to guide you up the stairs. You sit on the end of James's bed, watching, as he rummages inside his trunk. 

James pulls out a burgundy bomber jacket, and holds it up to you for approval. "You know, usually you'd ask your date for his jacket," he mentions with a smile. You stand and with a small smile, take the jacket from his hands. 

"Oh?" 

"At least that's what happens when I go on dates," he winks and your heart sinks at the mention of him dating someone. You nervously play with the sleeve of James's jacket and avoid his gaze. 

"I mean, I wouldn't know—"

James pauses and frowns, "What was that?" 

"I said, I wouldn't know," you say less quietly, "I mean, I've never been on a date."

You look up and James looks you up and down and then slowly makes his way to your eyes again. "But you have done other things, haven't you?" Your heart pounds and he clarifies boldly, "You have been kissed? You must have—I mean a girl like you. You can tell me, I'm not Sirius." 

You turn your head, embarrassment pricking at your skin, until you feel his hand tilt your chin up at him again. When you look at him, his eyes, even while accompanied by the tenderness of his tone, look dark.

"Do you even know how to kiss someone, Y/n? Where your hands go? How much pressure to use? Where to touch?" 

You shake your head slowly but you can't tear your eyes away.  

"Oh, you sweet thing, you don't know a thing do you?" 

Your cheeks burn and your skin tingles but James soothes you with a soft sound and a warm palm resting on your cheek. "Shush, that's just fine, love. Do'you want me to show you? So you don't embarrass yourself tonight?" James asks kindly, but a shiver runs up your arm. 

You're frozen. James pushes some hair behind your ear and his face is so close to yours now. "I-" you whisper, "I don't know."

James smiles a little and his hands move down your arms to capture your wrists. He brings them up to his cheeks, "Here," his voice is smooth as honey as he allows you to touch him. "Good girl," he mutters when he slides your palm over his mouth and kisses it. 

"James," you practically whimper, confused but not disliking what's happening.

"Shhh," he interrupts you by leaning in and kissing your cheek and the skin around your ear.

You let out a breathy sound when James's hand wraps around your nape and he holds you just over his lips. Your hands fall from his face to rest at your sides as James looks into your eyes and after a moment, he turns his head and looks to the door, mutters a spell underneath his breath and you hear the latch lock. 

Then, almost instantly, his lips crash onto yours.

You're too surprised to push him away, not that you would, but you don't kiss him back until James reprimands you sweetly. "You have to work with me here, darling."

You nod, moving your lips against his, cautiously—unsure—and his hand returns to your nape as he holds you against him. His nose bumps into yours a few times and you feel clumsy as you mutter apologies in between your kisses.

James pulls away and stares at you, his pupils dilated and he smirks. "Open your mouth for me," he demands a little harshly as he tips your head back, "Come on. Wider."

You do as you're told and squeeze your eyes shut when he practically shoves his tongue in your mouth and kisses you again.

There isn't any tenderness in this kiss and you shift your hand to clutch at his shirt. You kind of want him to stop, but a bigger part of you wants him to continue.

To have him claim you as his.

You whimper as the back of your knees hit his bed and James almost falls into you. He disconnects your lips, admiring how swollen yours look, and spins your bodies around. 

James sits on the end of his bed and tugs your hips forwards, having your thighs straddle him. "This is how you kiss someone probably, Y/n." One of his hands runs into your hair as the other hooks around your back as he holds you against him.

He kisses you quickly, "Just like this," he murmurs and then slides a hand down to your neck and trails his index in between your breasts. 

"Go ahead, kiss me. Show me what you learned, my love."

You hold onto his shoulders, breath uneven as he looks at you expectantly. You shake your head. 

James fakes a pout and says, "What's wrong, are you embarrassed?" He starts to move your hips and your dress rides up. James slowly spreads his legs and with a soft moan, you land on one of his thighs only. He continues to move your hips in small circles as your panties rub against his jeans.

You shut your eyes as your insides twist, "James, I- I feel weird," you mutter and instinctively bury your head in his shoulder.

James is still your older brother's best friend. He's someone you trust and as your stomach tightens again you can't help but turn to him for some reassurance.

He cups the back of your head but starts to bounce his knee. "What feels weird?" he coos and presses his cheek in your hair, inhaling your scent. "You can tell me, darling," he reassures.

You squeeze your legs around his thigh and let out another whimper. "It feels weird. D-down there," you feel a little helpless as you cry quietly.

"Since you kissed me?" 

James suddenly pauses his movements and he holds you closer. He caresses a hand in your hair. "You're okay. Is this the first time your pussy feels like this?" he mumbles the question hoarsely in your ear and you cry a little harder. 

No one has ever asked you a question like that, or mentioned something so private in such an obscene manner.

You don't know what to think or say. 

"N-no?" you hiccup.

James kisses your temple. "Can you be more specific for me, darling? I wanna know how I can help you," he teases you.  

"I- mean - It happens sometimes. When I'm alone or sometimes w-when you're around," you admit in a whisper, "But it's so much worse now."

James just chuckles darkly and asks, "What do you usually do when this happens? Do you touch yourself?" 

You squeal when he bounces you on his thigh again. "N-no! I just let it pass. It usually passes," you sound desperate and when you hear his little sound of disappointment, you bite your lip to prevent yourself from bursting into more tears.

James groans.

Fuck, he shouldn't like this as much as he does but you're just so cute.

You feel James's hand wander up your sides until he reaches your dress straps and without hesitation, he snaps them. The top of your dress starts to slip and instinctively you sit up and cover your chest. 

Your eyes shimmer with tears, "James?"

James pulls your hands away. "Shh, I want to see something," he explains, his eyes never leaving your chest as he tugs your dress down so it bunches at your waist. Then, his fingers move around the skin on your back as he unclips your creamy-white bra and it falls to the ground.

You gasp when James cups your breasts in his hands and slowly teases his thumbs over your nipples. Your entire body shivers as the sensation moves to your core. You cry out and try to move away from him.

"This is so much worse than I imagined," James shakes his head and pinches your nipples until you moan in pain, "Poor thing, just relax and let me help you," he says, his voice sickeningly gentle as he moves you from his thigh to kneel in between his legs. 

You squirm as James quickly unbuckles his jeans and you look at him. "W-what are you doing?"

"Helping you," he fists a hand in your hair and moves you to him until his cock hits your cheek. James groans and instinctively, you open your mouth to take him. "Suck on that, my darling, you'll feel much better."

You do as he says, tears sliding down your cheeks every time he pushes in further and his cock hits deeper in your throat. You cough and struggle but James doesn’t relent. Instead, he fucks your throat with no mercy and as he coos praises in the midst of raspy moans, 

"Shit, you're doing so fucking good for me," he looks down at you through lidded eyelids and smirks, "You're making such a fucking mess," James points out the mixture of drool and pre-cum on the side of your mouth, almost dripping down your cheeks, and you flush with embarrassment. 

You want to defend yourself. Tell him it isn't your fault and that you're trying so hard to take him. You want to warn him that the pain in your middle hasn't disappeared and that it't much worse now. But you can't speak with his dick in your mouth. 

You start to tap on his thigh lightly, pleading with him through your teary eyes and James understands, "Rub your thighs together. Yeah, there you go," he chuckles, rubbing your head soothingly, and when you do and taunts you, "Such a filthy thing, getting your thighs all sticky because I said so. What would Sirius say if he saw you like this, huh?"

You whimper and close your eyes. You don't want to think about that now. However, James's hand suddenly grips your chin and he pulls his cock out of your mouth. "Don't do that. Don't look away from me." He turns your head harshly and admires the dried tears on your face, "Fuck, Sirius would have my head for this," he whispers. 

"Stand up." James orders and you scramble to listen. Your legs feel shaky as you stand in front of him, his head level with your lower stomach.

James hooks his fingers in the remaining of your dress and tugs it over your hips until it falls at your feet. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you in, kissing your stomach. Sucking marks on your skin. 

He starts to play with the little bow in front of your panties and says mockingly, "How fucking adorable."

You stammer, "James, I don't know if w-we should."

"Shh," he says as his hand moves to cup your pussy, "You're okay. Just relax. You don't need to worry, sweetheart, let me take care of you."

You cover your mouth to suppress a moan as your eyelids flutter. This feels surreal, having him like this. You've wanted him for longer than you can remember, but it was only ever a fucked up fantasy. 

It definitely isn't a fantasy anymore.

James slides your panties down, leaving you completely bare in front of him. You feel insecure as his eyes roam around every curve and crease on your skin.

You have to bring your second hand to cover your mouth as well when James pushes his middle finger into your pussy. It hurts but when you squirm, he uses his other hand to steady your hips.

"Shit, you really are a virgin," he starts to move them in and out and you let him, the pain starting to feel like pleasure. 

After a few moments of James teasing you with his finger, you feel a weird sensation in your lower stomach. However, before it can come to a finish, your legs tremble and you almost fall over, "Woah," James sounds surprised as he catches you.

He pulls out his finger, feeling your hands squeeze around his shoulders, and looks up. He stands up and gently turns you around with him so he can lay you on his bed. He kneels in between your legs and spreads your thighs.

You look down with him and when you see the inside of your thighs absolutely soaked from your juices, you make a small whimper. 

In your mind you look obscene, dirty even, but James doesn't seem to mind, "You're so pretty."

He uses his hands to pull apart your folds and he presses a sloppy kiss to your clit. You moan and squirm.

When you hear him pull down his trousers and take himself out of his boxers again, you whimper. "Wait, please," you whisper and James stands over you, hooking his hands around your thighs and scooting you closer to his hips.

"Hush now," he lines himself up with your entrance, "I'm helping you so that when William fucks you, you're prepared for him." He chuckles but his thumb draws reassuring circles around your hips.

You gasp and feel tears slide down your cheeks, tasting the salt in your mouth, "I-I don't want William to fuck me," you say.

James pushes himself in and at the same time you squeal, he moans, "You're so fuckable though, baby. Shit, you're taking me so well I can barely control myself around you."

He squeezes his hand around your thighs, bruising your skin as he pushes into you. Your hands fist the sheet as James starts to pound into you with no mercy. 

"This okay?" he whispers, breaking the dominance for a crucial moment as he looks down at you with what can only be described as pure adoration in his eyes.

"Y-yes," you whimper, as overwhelmed as you are you feel so good.

"Where is my cock, hmm? Where is it?" He suddenly asks harshly as he brings a hand to your chin when you squirm, "Don't you move away from me."

James lightly slaps your cheek, "Answer the question," he snaps. You choke on your cries, barely recognizing the man looming above you. 

"Inside me?" You mutter.

"Where?"

"My p-pussy," you bite down on your lip as James thrusts harder and leans in to bury his face into your neck. You gasp as the pleasure intensifies.

"Good girl, fuck," he mutters and nuzzles his nose into your hair, "William might get your first date, but I'll always be the first one to have kissed your lips," James kisses you hungrily, "The first to touch you, to fuck you. And Merlin, you just love to be fucked, don't you? I can feel you clenching around me. You really are a filthy slut."

Suddenly, you hear the door handle rattle and your eyes widen. James pauses a moment but when he hears your brother's voice from behind the door, he forcefully crushes his hand over your mouth and sends you a dark look.

"Prongs? Open the door, I know you're in here!"

James looks down at you and smirks, "I'm fucking busy," he calls out to his friend, his voice strained as he slowly continues his thrusts. 

"Don't tell me you're wanking one out now?"

You blush when James laughs. Sirius tries the door again, "Is Y/n in there? I can't find her anywhere."

You squeeze your eyes shut. You're so scared your brother will find you like this. Naked on his best friend's bed. 

Merlin, what would he think of you?

"You just missed her. I think she left for her date," James answers with a smirk, still fucking you and hiding your moans and gasps behind his hand.

"Oh, alright," Sirius sighs and then, he slams his palm in the door as an indicator that he’s leaving, and you jump.

James looks down at his cock disappearing into you and waits a moment before groaning, "Come on, look at me inside you," he fists your hair and forces your chin down to look at your pussy. 

Your vision blurs as you see your juices mixed with a little bit of blood smeared on your inner thighs and under your ass. Your hands clutch at James shirt, legs trembling as you make small gasping sounds to his thrusts.

"Hush, you're okay baby. It's normal," James coos, pressing a kiss to your forehead, "It doesn't hurt anymore, yeah?"

You nod.

"Aren't you happy it's me and not William taking your virginity? Making you feel like this?" James says William's name with bitterness and punctuates his words with a harsh thrusts.

 He smirks, kneading your breasts and rubbing your nipples. "You look like such a brainless whore."

You moan uncontrollably when James pinches your sides as his hands travel to your pussy and he meanly slaps your clit.

"I've ruined you, baby. Made you so cock hungry for me, huh?" He rubs your clit harder and you start to sob and violently shake your head,

"James!" you plead, "It feels weird. I- something is h-happening."

James just smirks and wipes some drool from the side of your mouth with his thumb. "Aww, sweetheart, are y'gonna come for me?"

"I-w-what?" you mumble, embarrassed.

"You don't even know what that is, do you?" James groans, feeling you clench around him, "Shh, don't you worry. Just let it happen, okay? It’ll feel good. I promise.”

You moan when the pressure finally builds and your legs shake. James continues to fucks you through it until he feels you slip into full bliss and he finally comes inside you, leaving you a shaky blubbering mess from your second orgasm.

He leaves the bed and starts to dress.

You squeeze your thighs and move them around, feeling the stickiness from his cum, yours, and your blood. You shut your eyes and curl into yourself.

James turns to you and immediately shrugs off his shirt. He walks over and sits by your side, "Shhh, here," he pulls the shirt up and over your head, making sure to cover you up, and he kisses your cheek.

His hand runs circles around your thighs and when he spreads them again, his eyes soften when he sees your pussy. "Oh, my darling. What a filthy mess, hmm?" 

James walks to his drawer and takes out some tissues, which he uses to gently clean you. You flush with embarrassment as he touches your pussy again.

"William won't wanna fuck you if you're full of my cum," he says calmly

You stare at him with teary eyes. "I don't want William to fuck me. Please, James, don't let him," you feel so sore you can't even fathom someone else touching you.  

James's mouth opens but he only lets out a shaky breath. His hand comes to hold your cheeks and you subconsciously lean into his touch as he calms you down. "Okay, love. He won't touch a hair on your pretty head, ok? I promise."

You nod, eyes glossy and you lean into him—seeking his comfort after what happened. James hesitates a moment, his mind filled with guilt and fuzz and then he pulls you in closer to him.

"I- I'm sorry if I was rough on you, my lovely," he whispers into your hair, inhaling your scent and then kissing your hairline.

You hum, your eyes droopy from exhaustion and overstimulation. "It's okay, Jamie," you whisper, "I really liked it. You made me feel good," you say honestly and James smiles.

"Good," he kisses your nose, "You can nap now, love," he say calmly and pulls you into his lap, "I'll watch over you, I promise."

James knows you'll miss your date with William, but he doesn't care. You don't seem concerned either as your breathing calms and your eyelids flutter shut.

Yes, perhaps it is for the best you'll miss your date, James thinks, you're his now and he'll make damn sure he keeps you.

His darling girl.

[inkdrinkerworld]

can u do something cozy for james, maybe trader doesn’t like rain/storms so they cuddle up by the fire and he comforts her? thx and i luv ur stuff! 🫶🏻

You can hear the steel of the roof shaking as the winds gust by and you flinch on your spot in bed. You’re under storm watch right now, the winds at record speed and it does nothing to ease your nerves.

“Jamie,” you squeak, shutting your eyes as the wind whips again and the roof groans.

Your boyfriend is reinforcing the seals on the doors and windows, hoping that if it does rain it doesn’t affect your home too badly.

“Coming angel, I’m coming.” His voice is a little panicked and it causes you to panic some more. Just as you stand, James comes into the room with his hands all full. He’s carrying two mugs of tea and a sleeve of chocolate covered biscuits in the crook of his elbow.

“Here, pretty girl.” He hands you the mug of chamomile and then the biscuits , sitting beside you just as thunder rolls. “S’gonna be okay.” James promises like he’s personally in charge of weather patterns but his conviction makes him even more believable.

“Do you think the roof is gonna come off?”

James shakes his head, hiding his amusement behind a sip of his tea.

“No lovey, the roof’s gonna stay intact and we’re gonna get some rest tonight.”

You lean on his shoulder, sighing as you try to stop your mind from racing. “I don’t mind the rain but it’s the winds.” You murmur, James nodding sympathetically; it really is a horrific sound that it makes.

“They’ll slow down, angel. Let’s watch something to take your mind off it?”

You shrug, eyes sleepy as you finish your tea. “You choose tonight, Jamie.”

[veryberryjelly]

🍸 prompt 5 or 6 with james potter maybe?

james potter x reader

prompts ; ' wait don't go, please' + " is this okay ?" " its more than okay "

𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ✦ 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐯𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲 !

afternoons spent lounging on james' bed under his cover with delicate and soft kisses being exchanged for hours were your favourite way to spend your weekends.

sometimes you two could go hours without anything being said, just basking in the warmth of each others company.

only today it had been spent slipping in and out of light sleep due to a party going very late last night in the common room.

you had only been awake a few moments when james roused beside you, his head moving to bury in the crook of your neck which only brought a smile to your lips

" morning sleepy head " you said softly, turning slightly to wrap your arms around the boy.

" time is it ? " he questioned, his voice groggy and his eyes struggling to open as he looked up at you.

" quarter to two " you replied, one of your hands lifting to thread through his curls.

" you think we should get up any time soon ?"

" in your dreams am i letting you up "

his words caused a soft laugh to bubble past your lips. you tilted your head to press a kiss onto the top of his head, your arms wrapping slightly tighter around him before you settled.

you were on the verge of falling into another light sleep when you heard the door to james' dorm open and both of your eyes flitted to the door and were greeted with the familiar sight of remus and sirius.

" - could just live above the shop, moony. it might be the only way i'll never be- oh, hello there, didnt mean to interrupt lovebirds "

you were unsure what the beginning of that conversation was but that didnt matter too much. remus and sirius headed to the bed across the room, both sitting on the edge looking over at yourself and james.

your instinct kicked in and you sat up, pulling a sweater over your head.

" you didn't interrupt, i was about to head back to my dorm, i need to shower "

you weren't shy about pda, but you whenever someone walked in on you and james in his bed, you felt out of place. this was their dorm and you felt like you were imposing.

as you moved to slide out of bed james' strong arms wrapped around your torso, halting your effort to get up.

" wait, don't go, please, you can shower here " james pleaded, his tired eyes gleaming up at you in a way that made it almost impossible to say no to him

you lowered your hand down and brushed some curls from your lovers face.

" i'll see you later, jamie, i promise " the hurt on his face might be subtle to anyone else but to you it was practically painted across his face in big black letters.

" i hate it when you have to go back to your dorm- " he admitted, his gaze dropping down to the mattress, his sadness obviously presented in the way he fiddled with the sheets between his fingers.

" i know, but all of my stuff is there, i live there, baby "

" move your stuff here " he blurted out causing disbelief to appear on your face and your sure on the faces of james friends. " i hate it when you leave, baby. i want to sleep with you every night and wake up to you every morning...come stay here " his voice sounded almost desperate and you wanted to melt at his sincerity.

" jamie, you're asking me to move in here when you live with three other people..." you loved waking up with james, the sight of his bed head along was enough to want to sleep with him every night. but he lived with three other people, including another couple.

james finally sat up in the bed and focused his eyes on you. " darling, is that something you would want, yes or no "

" yes, theoretica-"

" is that okay ?" he brought his gaze over to the two boys on the opposite side of the room.

there was a few moments of silence where glances were exchanged between the two boys, but the grins on their faces gave you your answer before they spoke up.

" it's more than okay. we can help you move your stuff tomorrow if you want "

you could feel the joy beaming off of james beside you before you even turned to look at him, but when you did he had a shit eating grin on his face, his bottom lip caught between his teeth waiting for your answer.

" ok, yes, i'll move in "

the minute your answer fell from your lips you were tackled by the boy into one of the most passionate hugs he had ever given you. it wasnt long before remus and sirius jumped in too, their arms wrapping around the two of you.

" welcome to the dorm...don't wake us up in the middle of the night with sex noises "

[accioharrington]

sun & moon, james potter

pairing: james potter x fem!reader

synopsis: y/n is always in a bad mood, but james is always there to cheer her up

warning: none

word count: 0.9k

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ JAMES HAD ALWAYS BEEN the embodiment of sunlight—bright, cheerful, and perpetually optimistic. His smile could light up a room, and his laughter was infectious. On the other hand, Y/n was the grumpy, no-nonsense counterpart to his endless optimism. She was practical, realistic, and often cynical, finding James's unwavering cheerfulness both irritating and endearing.

They had met at a mutual friend’s party. James had been the life of the event, dancing and chatting with everyone, while Y/n had sat in a corner, nursing a drink and trying to avoid small talk. She had rolled her eyes at his antics, convinced he was just another overly enthusiastic extrovert. But then, he had approached her, his brown eyes twinkling with mischief.

"Hey there, wallflower. Mind if I join you?" he had asked, plopping down beside her without waiting for an answer.

Y/n had sighed, looking at him with her best withering stare. "If you must."

Instead of being deterred, James had grinned wider. "I must. You look like you need someone to brighten up your day."

"Or ruin it," Y/n muttered, but she couldn't deny the spark of curiosity he ignited in her.

From that moment on, James had made it his mission to break through Y/n's grumpy exterior. He would show up at her favorite coffee shop with her usual order—black coffee, no sugar, no cream. He'd leave little notes on her desk at work, each one more ridiculous than the last. ("Why did the scarecrow win an award? Because he was outstanding in his field!") And somehow, despite her best efforts, Y/n found herself looking forward to his antics.

One evening, after a particularly stressful day at work, Y/n trudged home, her mood darker than usual. She found James waiting outside her apartment, a bouquet of sunflowers in his hand and a hopeful smile on his face.

"Thought you could use some sunshine," he said, offering her the flowers.

Y/n took the bouquet reluctantly, unable to suppress a small smile. "Thanks, James. But flowers won't fix my day."

"Maybe not," he agreed, "but they might make it a little better."

As the weeks turned into months, Y/n realized she had fallen for James's relentless optimism. He was like a ray of sunshine in her otherwise cloudy life, and she found herself basking in his warmth. James, in turn, adored Y/n's practicality and honesty. She kept him grounded, and he loved the challenge of making her smile.

One Saturday morning, Y/n woke up to the smell of pancakes. She stumbled into the kitchen to find James humming a tune as he flipped pancakes on the stove. He was wearing an apron that read, "Kiss the Cook," and Y/n couldn't help but roll her eyes.

"Good morning, sunshine," James said, turning to flash her a bright smile.

"What's so good about it?" she grumbled, rubbing her eyes.

James's smile softened, and he walked over to give her a quick kiss on the forehead. "You're awake, and you're here with me. That's pretty good, don't you think?"

Y/n snorted but couldn't hide the affection in her eyes. "If you say so."

They sat down to breakfast, and James launched into a story about his latest adventure—helping a neighbor fix a broken fence, which had somehow turned into a comedy of errors. Y/n listened, her grumpy demeanor slowly melting away as she laughed at his animated retelling. James's heart soared every time she laughed; it was the sweetest sound in the world to him, a rare and precious treasure.

After breakfast, James dragged Y/n out for a walk in the park. She grumbled about the cold and the early hour, but he kept up a steady stream of chatter, pointing out interesting sights and making her laugh with his silly observations. Each laugh from Y/n was like a personal victory for James, filling him with joy and a sense of accomplishment.

As they walked, James took her hand, swinging their arms gently. "You know, Y/n, I was thinking…"

"That's dangerous," she teased, but her heart skipped a beat. James only got that serious look in his eyes when he was about to say something important.

"I know I can be a bit much sometimes," he said, his tone more subdued. "But I hope you know how much you mean to me. You're my rock, my anchor. I love you, grumpy and all."

Y/n stopped walking, turning to look at him. His brown eyes were earnest, filled with love and a hint of vulnerability. She felt a warmth spread through her chest, and for once, she didn't feel the need to hide behind her grumpiness.

"I love you too, James," she said softly. "Even though you're annoyingly cheerful."

James's face lit up with a smile so bright it could rival the sun. He pulled her into a tight hug, and Y/n couldn't help but feel grateful for the ray of sunshine that had entered her life.

As the months passed, their relationship only grew stronger. They balanced each other perfectly—James's optimism tempered by Y/n's realism, and Y/n's grumpiness softened by James's cheerfulness. They faced challenges together, finding strength in their differences and joy in their love.

One evening, as they sat on the couch, James turned to Y/n with a mischievous grin. "You know, I've been thinking…"

"There you go again," Y/n said, though her eyes twinkled with amusement.

"I think we should get a cat," James said, his grin widening. "A grumpy one, just like you."

Y/n raised an eyebrow. "Oh, really? And what makes you think I want a cat?"

"Because," James said, leaning in to kiss her nose, "even grumpy people need a little sunshine in their lives."

Y/n couldn't argue with that. As she snuggled closer to James, she realized that she didn't mind being the grumpy one—as long as she had her sunshine by her side.

[diqldrunks]

EMERGENCY!!! for my bartender aus, i have three scenarios that i need to assign to remus james and sirius. (and if you have any more scenarios/ideas i’d love to here them!)

working with the bartender as a waitress and flirting throughout your shifts (bringing him snacks from the kitchen and him making you drinks!)

being stood up on a date and deciding to stay out, sitting at the bar and meeting the bartender (the bar being almost empty and you two just gossiping!!)

being a cute regular (saving you a seat at the bar and giving you little snacks for free)

i need to assign one to sirius remus and james each!!

i’ll probably be making some polls in a few hours — if you interact with this post i’ll tag you in them!!

tagging for chaos (lmk if you want to be added!): @ginevranights @lafleshlumpeater @fclklqre

[thatdammchickennugget]

Twists Of Fate

pairing -james potter x fem!reader

summary - a chance reunion at a wedding leads to unexpected sparks between you and james

warnings - shitty ex, james is a danger to everyone around him, fluff

wordcount - 2.2k

You're standing near the edge of the dance floor, nursing a glass of champagne and pretending to be deeply interested in the intricacies of your friend's wedding decor. The fairy lights twinkle overhead, casting a warm glow on the happy couples swirling around you. You try to focus on the joy of the occasion, but your mind keeps drifting back to the events of the past few weeks.

Your ex-boyfriend, the one who decided that your relationship wasn't worth more than a passing fling, is here. And not only is he here, but he's here with a new girl, draped on his arm like the latest fashion accessory. Every time you catch sight of them, your heart twists painfully in your chest.

"Hey, you look great," he says after walking up to you, a smug smile playing on his lips as his new girlfriend giggles beside him. "Too bad things didn't work out between us, huh?"

Before you can formulate a response that doesn't involve throwing your drink in his face, he leans in closer, his voice dripping with faux sympathy. "Listen, I just wanted to say that I hope we can still be friends, you know? It's not like we ended things on bad terms or anything."

You bite back a bitter laugh, nodding along as if his words actually mean something to you. In your opinion, him cheating on you and then blaming his mistake on you left you far from ‘on good terms’. Inside, you're seething with anger and frustration. How dare he waltz in here with his new conquest, acting like he's the picture of decency?

But just as you're about to excuse yourself and find someplace else to drown your sorrows, a voice interrupts.

"Sweetheart, there you are! I've been looking everywhere for you."

You blink in surprise as James Potter, of all people, strides up to you, an easy grin on his face. He slips an arm around your waist, drawing you close. His touch is warm and reassuring, a stark contrast to the icy dread pooling in your stomach.

"James?" you murmur, more to yourself than to him.

Of course you remember him from school. Everyone knew of him. You had talked to him once in a while during your time at school, mostly when he found himself interrupting your study sessions with Remus in the library, but since graduating two years ago your paths hadn’t crossed again until right now.

He doesn't miss a beat, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "Sorry I'm late, love. Got caught up trying to find a decent tie. Do you have any idea how hard it is to find one that matches your eyes?"

Your eyes fall down to his broad chest on their own accord, and to your surprise, his tie actually happens to match almost perfectly.

Your ex is staring, slack-jawed, clearly not expecting this turn of events. James turns to him, raising an eyebrow. "Oh, I don't think we've met. I'm James, her date."

"Date?" your ex echoes, the smugness evaporating from his expression.

"Yes, date," James repeats cheerfully, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "You know, the person you bring to events like this to remind you what it's like to have someone who actually appreciates your company. But hey, I get it, it can be confusing for some people."

You can't help but stifle a laugh at the way he says it, his tone so breezy and unbothered. You decide to play along, slipping your arm around his in return.

"Thanks for coming to find me," you say, trying to sound as natural as possible. "I was just about to head back to the dance floor."

James winks at you, his grin widening. "Anything for you, darling."

As he leads you away, you glance back to see your ex still standing there, looking utterly flabbergasted. It's a small victory, but it feels monumental.

"You didn't have to do that," you murmur once you're out of earshot.

James shrugs, his expression softening. "Seemed like you could use a hand. Plus, it’s always fun to mess with someone who clearly deserves it."

You laugh, the tension in your shoulders easing a bit. "Thanks. I owe you one."

"Oh, I plan to collect," he says with a teasing glint in his eye. "But for now, how about a dance? You know, to really sell the whole 'date' thing."

You roll your eyes but can’t suppress the smile tugging at your lips. "Alright, Potter. One dance."

As you follow James onto the dance floor, the music envelops you, its lively beat washing away the lingering discomfort from the encounter. James wastes no time in taking the lead, his movements smooth and confident as he guides you through the crowd.

"So," he says, his voice close to your ear as he spins you effortlessly, "how's life been treating you since Hogwarts?"

You can't help but chuckle at his casual demeanor, the tension of the evening melting away with every step. "Oh, you know, the usual. Trying to navigate the treacherous waters of adulting and all that."

James grins, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Ah, yes, the dreaded adulting. I hear it's a real beast but I wouldn’t know anything about that."

You nod in agreement, your laughter mingling with the music. "Tell me about it. Sometimes I wish I could just go back to worrying about O.W.L.s and Quidditch matches."

"Hey, at least in the wizarding world, adulting comes with the added bonus of using magic without getting into trouble," James quips, twirling you expertly before pulling you back into his arms. "Although, I suppose dealing with an ex at a wedding could be considered a form of dark magic."

You playfully swat at his arm, unable to suppress a grin. "You're terrible, you know that?"

He grins back, his eyes alight with mischief. "Guilty as charged. But hey, at least I'm charmingly terrible."

As the song shifts to a more upbeat tempo, James takes advantage of the moment to unleash his dance moves. Except, instead of smooth and confident, his movements are more like a cross between a flailing Hippogriff and a clumsy first-year attempting a Transfiguration spell.

You can't help but burst into laughter at the sight of him, his arms flapping wildly and his feet stumbling over each other. "Merlin's beard, James! Are you trying to hex the dance floor or something?"

He shoots you a mock offended look, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Oi, watch it! I'll have you know, I'm a dance prodigy in the making."

You raise an eyebrow, unable to contain your grin. "Prodigy? More like a disaster waiting to happen."

Undeterred, James continues to dance with reckless abandon, his movements becoming increasingly exaggerated with each passing moment. He spins and twirls, his limbs flying in all directions as if controlled by an unseen force.

"Alright, alright, I admit it," he says between gasps for breath, his cheeks flushed with exertion. "Maybe I'm not the next Fred Astaire, but at least I'm having fun. And getting to see that pretty smile of yours is worth making a fool of myself."

You can't help but feel a warmth spread through you at James's words, his sincerity cutting through the playful banter. Despite his less-than-graceful moves, there's an endearing charm to his earnestness that you can't help but admire.

"Well, in that case," you say with a teasing grin, "I suppose I can forgive your questionable dancing skills."

James grins back, his eyes shining with amusement. "Gee, thanks. I'll try not to let it go to my head."

As the music continues to pulse around you, you find yourself caught up in the moment, dancing with James in a whirlwind of laughter and joy. Together, you move in sync, your steps perfectly imperfect as you twirl and sway to the rhythm of the music.

Just as you're both getting into the swing of things, James's exuberant movements nearly send him crashing into an elderly witch who's been watching the dance floor with a bemused expression. You gasp, reaching out instinctively to steady her, but James, ever the smooth talker, beats you to it.

"Whoa there, almost lost my footing!" James exclaims, flashing the woman his most charming smile. "But don't worry, I'm as steady as a Hippogriff on a broomstick."

The elderly witch chuckles, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "Well, steady or not, you certainly know how to liven up a party, young man."

James grins, his charm dial turned up to maximum. "Why, thank you, ma'am. It's all in a day's work for a dashing wizard like myself."

You can't help but roll your eyes at his shameless flattery, but the elderly witch seems thoroughly charmed, her laughter filling the air as James regales her with tales of his misadventures on the dance floor.

After a few minutes of chatting, you gently suggest that perhaps it's best to continue the conversation off the dance floor to avoid any more accidents. The elderly witch nods in agreement, bidding James farewell with a fond pat on the arm.

As you lead James away, the two of you share a knowing grin. "Smooth move, Potter," you tease, nudging him playfully.

James chuckles as he throws an arm over your shoulders. "What can I say? Charming old witches is just one of my many talents."

You shake your head in mock exasperation, but there's a warmth spreading through you at the easy camaraderie between you. Despite the chaos of the evening, being with James feels surprisingly natural, as if you were hanging out with an old friend rather than just an aquaintance.

At the bar, James orders a couple of drinks, and you find a quiet corner to settle into. The soft glow of the fairy lights creates an intimate atmosphere, and as you sip your drink, you find yourself relaxing in his company.

"So," James begins, leaning back in his chair with a playful glint in his eyes, "tell me something interesting about yourself that I wouldn't know from our Hogwarts days."

You ponder for a moment, swirling the liquid in your glass thoughtfully. "Well, I've developed quite the talent for baking since leaving school. There's something therapeutic about kneading dough and watching it rise."

James raises an eyebrow, his interest piqued. "Is that so? I'll have to enlist you as my personal pastry chef sometime."

You laugh, nudging him playfully. "Don't get your hopes up. My baking skills might be up to par with your dancing."

James chuckles. "Well, I guess that means we'll have to stick to takeout for our first date then."

You raise an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at your lips. "Are you asking me out on a date, Potter?"

James leans in, his grin widening. "Consider it a formal invitation. How about dinner at that new Italian place in Diagon Alley tomorrow? I hear they have the best tiramisu."

You pretend to mull it over, though your heart is already racing with excitement. "Hmm, Italian food and dessert? Sounds tempting. I suppose I could pencil you into my busy schedule."

James feigns offense, placing a hand over his heart dramatically. "Penciled in? I demand top priority, thank you very much."

You laugh, the warmth of his playful banter melting away any lingering reservations. "Alright, you win. Dinner it is."

"Excellent," James says with a satisfied grin. "I'll pick you up at seven, then?"

You nod, feeling a rush of anticipation at the prospect of spending more time with him. "Seven it is. I'll be ready."

As you both finish your drinks, James suddenly feels a tap on his shoulder. He turns to see the elderly witch from earlier, a twinkle in her eye.

"Excuse me, young man," she says with a smile, "but would you care to dance with an old lady like me?"

James's grin widens at the unexpected invitation. "Of course, I'd be honored!"

He shoots you an apologetic look before following the woman onto the dance floor, leaving you chuckling at his eagerness. Watching James twirl the elderly witch with surprising grace, you can't help but feel a fondness for him grow.

As you observe them dance, you realize just how lucky you are to have him by your side tonight. Despite the chaos of the wedding and the presence of your ex, James has managed to turn what could have been a disastrous evening into one filled with laughter and joy.

After a few minutes, James returns to your side with a sheepish grin. "Sorry about that. Couldn't resist the opportunity to show off my moves to a new audience."

You laugh, shaking your head in amusement. "No need to apologize. You’re quite the hit out there."

James beams at the compliment, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "Well, I aim to please."

As you both make your way towards the exit and he bids you farewell with a cheesy kiss on your hand, you can't help but feel a sense of anticipation building within you. Tomorrow's date with James suddenly feels like the highlight of your week, and you can't wait to see where this newfound connection will take you.

James Taglist - @urmomsgirlfriend1 @remussbitch @starsval @whoknowsbut @gayforyelena @marauderswhxre @ravenclawprincess33 @helpimhopelesslyinlove @Yhiiil @themarauderswife7 @ihatemyexs @starsval @bath1lda @Allshitsangiggles @mildly-delulu @vcosette @rinalouu @agent-tempest @S0urw00lf @pinkestfloyd @l0v3do11 @Unstablereader @wolfstar-marvelsfan @captainstanksblog @pinktreee @ceehance @andrew-and-flower @cas-planet @csmt_m @poppysrin @camille-1019 @Laniirackssss @bshwrites @slytherinambitious @notyaslol @txzii @yourenogoodforme @starzioo @darkenwolfie @bunnyweasley23

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[rosieandthethorns]

i don't WANT to read smut right now

i WANT to read a passionate, poetic, jaw dropping, tears streaking down my face, heart wrenching, giggle inducing, feet kicking, cringy yet amazing, gorgeous story written by someone who apologizes for english not being their first language(they're the best writers ever) which has 4 chapters and then makes me scream because it hasnt been updated in months and the author is mia

[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."

[sleyu]

in regards to perv!marauders . . . theyd so get off on the more innocent pics of you— it could be a polaroid of you smiling and it’d be covered in cum by the end of the summer bcos your innocence is so hot to them

i am losing my mind at the thought of this. the mere thought of corrupting you torments perv!marauders and something about the contrast of their filth paired with your seemingly pure disposition makes their cock throb.

the photo usually always comprises you beaming, presumably looking up at them through the camera, batting your eyelashes prettily, looking so radiant and cute. i can picture a photo of you leaning against their palm, their large hands caressing your cheek while you peer up at them. maybe it’s that sleepy look of yours; maybe it’s your flushed face or your puffy, watery eyes; or perhaps it’s the gloss on your lips that makes you look so girly and kissable that has them groaning into their pillow as they fist their aching cock late into the night, feverish and frantic to cum to the sight of you.

it's not only your innocence that gets them off, but it's the thought of ruining it that drives them to the edge. all of them would repeatedly fantasize about making you just as desperate as they are for you. they want nothing more than for you to look up at them—a betrayed, foggy look in your lust-filled eyes—begging them to take you again because three rounds simply aren’t enough and you're far too addicted to their cocks stretching out your ruined cunt to stop.

[moonstruckme]

summary: your roommate James plots to befriend a shy you

part 1

roommate!James x shy!reader ♡ 1k words

The apartment is loud and messy when you come home, and James immediately feels bad about it. You freeze in the door like a doe in the woods, a few of his friends pausing their conversations to greet you from where they’re scattered haphazardly about the living room. 

You give a terse smile and beeline for the stairs. You’re wearing your work clothes, dirty and rumpled from a long shift, and it doesn’t escape James’ notice that you’ve bypassed the kitchen in your hurry to get to your room. You seem to have an aversion to being witnessed. He makes a mental note to check that you’ve eaten later. 

“Oh, do you work at Rizzo’s?” Lily asks you, evidently recognizing the uniform. You stall halfway up the stairs, and James suppresses a smile at your obvious reluctance. 

“Yeah,” you reply, voice even quieter than usual. 

“My friend works there.” Lily’s friendly demeanor is unphased by your timidity. The two of you have met before, like you’ve met most of his friends, in passing. “Do you know Mona?” 

You nod, easing up a bit. James wonders at the fact that you’ve lingered as long as you have, but then he notices Sirius noticing you, and he prays his friend doesn’t say anything to make you regret it. 

“Yeah, we’ve worked some of the same shifts,” you say. “She’s nice.” 

Lily grins at the confirmation. James braces himself as Sirius angles his head. 

“What do you do there, lovely?” 

The endearment instantly flusters you. Your shoulders tighten and your hand flexes on the banister as though to keep yourself from bolting. “I’m a host,” you say. 

“That’s nice.” Sirius’ grin is intentionally disarming, lopsided and flirtatious. You look as though you’re not sure what to make of it. “I’m sure it makes for good business to have the pretty girls welcoming customers.” 

It’s your last straw. You mumble something about it being nice to see them and all but dash up to your room. James hears your door shut with a soft click. 

Sirius frowns. “Skittish thing, isn’t she?” 

“Tosser.” Remus pulls him roughly against his side, rolling his eyes when Sirius wraps his arms around his boyfriend’s torso sulkily. 

“I was paying her a compliment.”  

“She’s just shy.” James doesn’t know why he feels the need to explain you, exactly. Your diffidence is fairly obvious now, but he still feels a bit guilty for thinking you just hated him when he first moved in. After knowing Remus for so long, he thought he’d be able to tell the difference between shyness and standoffishness. Now apparently he feels responsible for liaising between you and his friends. “You knew you were going to embarrass her, prick.” 

The conversation turns to Sirius’ tendency to verbally prod at those with quieter demeanors, which he denies vehemently and Remus corroborates with pointed looks but not much commentary. 

Once they’ve gone, James goes up to your room with a sandwich. The door is cracked but he knocks anyway, waiting for your quiet “come in” before he pushes it the rest of the way open. 

“Figured you might’ve missed dinner,” he says by way of greeting, going to set the plate down on your bed. 

It takes effort not to let his eyes roam the room. He can see in his periphery that your desk is cluttered but neat and your walls covered with pictures and art. An effect of your reticence is that, aside from what sort of shampoo you use and how often you need to restock the milk in the fridge, James knows very little about you. He knows you’re a good roommate. You’re clean, you don’t bicker about the thermostat, and you haven’t even seemed cross with him for eating the rest of your oreos (which he’s going to replace, seriously, as soon as he remembers to go to the store). You’re quiet, obviously, but along with that you seem kind. 

Honestly, it makes him a bit uncomfortable that you don’t seem to want to be friends. James is only human; he likes being liked, even more so by nice girls with pretty smiles, and it seems crucial that he be liked by nice girls with pretty smiles who he shares a living space with. If you’re going to brush your teeth using the same sink as somebody, you should be on good terms. James believes this. 

And though he hasn’t had to work so hard for friendship in some years, he is diligent. He thinks he’ll bring you around yet. 

Evidence of progress: the happy-surprised look in your eyes when you spot the sandwich. 

“Thank you,” you say, a tender sort of bemusement lining your words. “You didn’t have to do this.” 

“Well, if you’ve actually missed dinner, you probably ought to eat something more substantial,” James hedges. He pushes his luck, sitting across from you on your bed. “I don’t want to be an accomplice to your snacks-for-meals agenda.” That wins him a small smile. “But I do feel bad, keeping you from your own kitchen because I have friends over.” 

Your eyes flit away at the last bit. You take a hearty bite of your sandwich, chewing to avoid a reply.

“You should know, you are actually paying rent for the whole apartment,” he says, “not just your room.” 

You look chastened as you swallow, but you wave him off. “I would’ve gone down to get something later,” you say airily. “I didn’t want to infringe on your time with your friends.” 

“You?” James actually laughs. “Never. Trust me, we see plenty of each other. They could probably use a fresh face.”

You roll your eyes. It’s a ploy to keep from looking at him, he’s certain of it. “Well, regardless, you shouldn’t worry about it. I wasn’t starving.” 

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.” Your mattress creaks as James stands. Some of the stiffness to your posture eases, and he wonders if you’re relieved to see him go, but you look up with another small smile. Pretty. 

“Thanks for the sandwich,” you say. 

“You should really have another one,” he replies, grinning back because of forces beyond his control. He starts backing out of the room. “Do you want me to make it? Actually, don’t answer that. I’m making it.” 

Your quiet laughter follows him down the stairs. 

[pretty-little-mind33]

James Potter x slytherin!fem!reader

Summary: When your "friends" play a dangerously stupid prank on you, James is the last person you'd think would help you.

Genre: Fluff, hurt and comfort <3

Warning: swearing, mentions of being drugged/drunk, violence, mentions of blood, protective!James

When James sees you walk into the classroom with an unusually cheery smile, he can't look away.

"Sirius," he pauses and leans in closer to his friend, "does she look unwell to you?" James whispers, clearly concerned for you. Sirius lets his chin rest on his palms as he looks over at you nonchalantly.

You almost trip on your shoe-laces as you make your way to your desk and you laugh a little too loudly, but only James seems to notice that particular detail.

"Y/l/n? She seems quite happy to me," Sirius's smirk is heard in his voice but James doesn't look amused. 

"No, something's wrong. She's usually quiet and she," he doesn't finish his sentence when he sees your friends in the corner of the classroom.

Some of them look as concerned as he is while most hide smiles and snickers behind their hands as they look at you. James's eyes bounce back to you and his frown deepens. Something is wrong. Instantly, he's on his feet.

"Prongs!?" Sirius sounds surprised but it's no use trying to stop him because James is already on his way to you.

Just as you raise your arm to run a hand in your – already annoyed – desk partner's hair, James quickly swoops in and catches your wrist. You pause and when you turn your head to look at him, your smile widens. 

"Potter!" you slur.

James can be an idiot sometimes, but he does know you're not drunk. He's never seen you drink. You look dizzy and he comes to the conclusion you must be under the influence of some kind of spell. He looks you over and sees the nasty cut on your knee. Anger bubbles in his stomach as he remembers how your friends somehow found this all incredibly funny. 

You tilt your head at him slightly and say, "You have pretty eyes, did you know that?" you smile a smile James usually loves and was never directed at him before, but by now the entire classroom has their eyes on you and, because he knows you would hate all this unnecessary attention, James helps you stand.

You let out a breathy giggle when his hands find your waist and hold you steady.  

"What are you doing?" a shrill voice asks from behind him and James clenches his jaw. He turns around. It's one of your friends. She's also in Slytherin and as hard as he tries, James can't remember her name.

"Helping your friend," he says blankly, "She seems a little out of it, doesn't she?"

"She's fine," your friend rolls her and tucks her dark hair behind her ear. "Aren't you, Y/n?" she asks you with a faint smirk.

Your body sways and James's arms move from your waist and swoops around you to hold under your armpits. "I'm okay — y-yeah, I'm okay. I feel better than fine," You mutter, eyelids fluttering slightly as you giggle at his touch.

James isn't at all convinced you're okay. 

Your friend's cruel smirk and the mystery of how you've bruised your knee leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

"She's bleeding," he states as calmly as he can. 

"She's just clumsy." 

"She's obviously been hexed or something," James narrows his eyes.

Your friend laughs at his accusatory tone. "What? And you think I did it?"

"Yeah, actually, I do."

At this point, it's obvious you aren't paying attention to their argument as you start to play with James's collar. His cheeks flush pink as your hair skims his chin and the smell of your shampoo fills the air.

"Well if you won't tell me what happened to her, then I'll find out myself," he says and his hand moves to hold yours. "Come on," he whispers sweetly and you let him lead you out of the classroom.

James is extremely careful with you. He makes sure you don't trip in the hallway, or run into any doors and walls, and more importantly he stays with you when the nurse comes to make sure you're okay.

He leans over the hospital bed as his hand hover over your knee as he asks, "What's happened to her?" 

"Veritaserum," the nurse says as she presses her palm on your forehead. 

"The truth serum?" James is confused. "Doesn't that make someone tell the truth? Why would it make her act so," he turns his head to look at you and conflicting emotions creates what feels like an empty pit in his stomach. You look so beautiful with your eyes blown wide as you glance around the room. "So ditzy?" he finishes in an endeared whisper.

"It isn't uncommon as everyone can have different reactions," The nurse explains as she gently inspects your knee, "I think whoever made this potion must not be particularly skilled."

James clenches his fist around his cloak and tries to remind himself that you probably wouldn't want him to beat up your so-called-friends.

"What's happening to me?" your voice comes out strained as you try and focus on their conversation as you catch on to their confused faces. 

"Nothing, honey, you're fine. Your friend was worried and he," 

You interrupt her, "James Potter? Oh, he isn't my friend." You look up at James and his smile disappears. He's embarrassed as he searches your face for any indication that you're joking but clearly you aren't because you ask him. "Potter, do you even know my name?" You sound serious.

James hesitates to answer, "Of course I know your name, Y/n," he finally admits.

He doesn't expect your eyes to light up but they do and you turn to the nurse, "He does know my name," you whisper with a smile.

James's heart swells at how happy you seem and he smirks a little. Amused, the nurse lets you continue, "You'know," you lean in closer and mutter just loud enough for James to hear without you knowing, "I really like him."

Surprised, his heart jumps and the nurse panics as he quickly shuts you up. "Alright honey, let's clean up this nasty little wound and then wait for the potion to pass, ok?" you nod and focus on her as she waves her wand across your knee and the cut disappears. 

Once she's done, the nurse turns to James and says, "I know you must be curious, Potter, but I think Y/l/n should be alone while she recovers," the nurse turns to you again and looks at you sympathetically.

"He can stay!" you insist, "I want him to stay."

James looks into your eyes and he wonders how he can even think of disappointing you.

But, when he looks at the nurse again his heart sinks. He can't stay, he knows he can't. It would be unfair. You deserve to keep your secrets — all those feelings you wouldn't share with him normally — hidden away in your pretty little head. 

James knows he can't take those away from you so he nods, stuffs his hands in his pockets, and sends you a lopsided smile. "I'll see you around, mmh?" 

He leaves before he can focus on the way you called his name because if he does, he knows he'd feel compelled to rush back in and stay by your side. On his way back to the classroom, he can't help but smile as he remembers your words. Only, his smile disappears the moment he hears your friends in the hallway. 

James stops in front of them and they do the same. The girl from earlier crosses her arms. "What's your issue, Potter?" she snarls, "Where's Y/n?"

James refuses to answer her question. "You gave her the Veritaserum, didn't you?" he accuses and some of your friend's squirm guiltily. The dark-haired girl just smirks.

"So what if we did? She isn't dying, is she? It was funny," she turns to your other friends with a grin and they nod meekly. "You should have seen her stumbling around, she wasn't even fazed when she fell and scraped her knee on the cobblestones. It was hilarious," she continues.

James's face burns from the points of his ears to his cheeks. "Hilarious?!" he repeats, his voice stern, "What kind of friends find it funny when their friend hurts themselves? She didn't know about the Veritaserum, did she?" 

The girl shakes her head but one of your other friends interrupts. He's a tall, lanky Slytherin with icy blue eyes and vibrant auburn hair.

"Of course she didn't know, Potter. It wouldn't be as fun if she did. I would think you would understand," he admits with a grin.

James's hands shake as he stares at your friend rambling. The boy only chuckles and turns to his friends, amused, as he taunts, "Slipped the potion in her drink myself this morning."

He doesn't finish his sentence as James punches him. He stumbles back into the girls, cupping his hands around his nose, as they shriek in surprise. James shakes his hand out a little and narrows his eyes. "You don't spike someone's drink, asshole. And don't fucking insinuate I would ever do something like that to anyone!"

"What the fuck? Why do you even care?" The boy hisses as one girl holds his shoulder and tends to him. "You're crazy." 

And sure, maybe James was crazy but he won't tolerate someone hurting you. 

Ever. 

* * *

"James, just give the poor girl some space," Remus sighs as he tries to concentrate on his essay. "She's gone through enough these last few days. Haven't you heard the rumors going around? They're brutal."

James resists the scream that bubbles in his throat. "I know. I know. I just want to be there for her," he whines and Sirius wraps his arm around his shoulder.

"You'll just make things worse," Sirius says, "Last rumor I heard is that she faked it all for your attention." 

James clenches his jaw. "How would I make this worse? It's all so fucking cruel, Pads. She's all alone," his heart has been slowly breaking whenever he thinks of you sobbing in your dorm or sitting alone during your classes and meals. 

He shuts his eyes a moment and then sits up abruptly and says, "I know what to do."

Remus looks up and with a worried expression, his eyes widen. "Prongs," he starts but James is already standing. "Sirius! Don't let him leave!" Remus insists but it's too late because their friend is already out the Common Room door. 

When James enters the Great Hall, he pauses and searches for you. He sees you sitting alone and he becomes so angry he can't think normally.

He storms up to the Slytherin table and jumps on top of it. Some cutlery and food falls to the floor and students turn their heads. James just clears his throat, making a show as he stumbles on his feet. 

If everyone wants to gossip about something, they can gossip about this. 

With a grin, he spreads his arms and shouts, "Can I have everyone's attention?" The Great Hall turns silent and James struts down the table until he's much closer to you. You feel your cheeks heat up and you hold your breath.

Remus and Sirius run into the Great Hall, calling James's name but it's too late because James is now standing in front of you as he holds out his hand. "Y/n, will you go out with me?" He asks, his voice loud and calm.

Whispers break out as your heart thumps in your chest. You look into James's eyes, searching them and when you reluctantly take his hand he nods a little and pulls you up onto the table with him. 

Quickly, he pulls you closer and then whispers in your ear, "Say no. Trust me." 

Your frown deepens but the words leave you without thinking, "No?" 

James smirks and just subtle enough for no one to see, he kisses your cheek and pulls you away from him. Dramatically, he stumbles backwards and covers his heart. "Ow, you're killing me here, love. What will I do without you?"

If you didn't know he had just asked you to reject him, you would think he sounds genuinely hurt. As he stumbles, he trips on someone's glass and with a loud crash, he falls to the ground.

Students gasp loudly and so do you as you cover your mouth with your hands and rush to the edge of the table and peer down at him. When you see him sitting on the ground he suddenly blows a kiss up to you, a small paper bird flutters up to you and then turns into rose petals.

Your eyes widen and you can't help but laugh when James continues to make a scene and the petals fall in your hair. "You're breaking my heart, darling. Criminal," James whispers and winks dramatically. 

"James Potter, detention. Now," McGonagall's voice booms and when James sees you hide a smile behind your hand, he smiles too.

A while later, as James sweeps up McGonagall's classroom floor, all he can think of is your happy smile.

"James?" Your voice interrupts his memory and he jumps a little, turning towards the door. You stand in the doorway, a flustered look on your face as you hesitate to come inside. James drops the broom and rushes over to you. 

His knuckles hover over your cheek as he says, "Y/n, are you okay?"

Your eyes widen and you touch his hand. Gently, you pull it down to his side again as you whisper and ask, "What was that all about?"

James searches your face for anger. "I wanted to take the embarrassment off of you. You don't deserve anything that's been happening to you, love. None of it is your fault."

You look at him more seriously. "Yeah, it's been a little hard but I can handle the teasing. You shouldn't have done that," you say and James's heart clenches in his chest. 

"I'm sorry if I upset you, Y/n. I just wanted,"

You interrupt him, "No. I mean you shouldn't have asked me to say no," you pause and look up at him, "unless, you don't actually want to go out with me. But, I know you know how I feel about you and I,"

Your sentence dies and you don't know what else to say. 

James's expression softens. You look up at him, almost pleading with him, "Please don't make me repeat what I said in the Hospital Wing. It's so embarrassing, and I know you heard me. I wasn't exactly quiet."

James smirks. "When you said you like me?" he holds up his finger and pretends to ponder, "No I'm sorry, you really like me," his smile widens as he looks at you. You feel warmth in your cheeks and look away.

"Yeah, that."

"Well, I really like you too."

Your eyes widen and you look up at him. James uses his thumb to lift your chin. You realize how close your body is to his and your breath hitches in your throat. James's hand moves to your cheek, caressing it softly as you whisper, "You do?"

James lets out a breathy chuckle. "Of course I do. You're beautiful, kind, incredibly smart it's annoying," his eyes are full of admiration, "What's there not to like, darlin'?"

You frown, glancing quickly at the emblem stitched onto my robes and then you look at him again. "But, I'm a Slytherin. I didn't even think you ever knew who I was until last week. We've never really talked."

James's smile falters and his thumb moves behind your ear as he holds your cheek. "That's my fault. I should have said something sooner but with my reputation and all," he looks away, his face twisted in shame, "I didn't want to scare you away."

You see the sincerity in his eyes but ask wearily, "So it doesn't bother you?" 

"That you're in Slytherin?" James smiles a little. "No, it doesn't, love. I don't care. I've seen how you are and I think you're absolutely lovely," he catches himself, "I mean, I'm not saying Slytherin's aren't lovely,"

You shut him up with a kiss. It's confident and startling but James doesn't complain. He simply pulls you in closer and lets his mouth explore yours with a passion he didn't know he had. He didn't know how starved he was of your taste until now.

Fuck, he's fucked. 

You pull away, lips wet and stare at him. "Sorry," you mutter.

"Sorry?" James frowns and leans in to kiss you again, "Don't you dare be sorry. Just kiss me," his words leave you a mush in his arms and you're happy for his hand around your back because otherwise you would fall over. 

When he finally disconnects your lips, he leans his forehead on yours and whispers what he'd been thinking, "You'll kill me, love."

You smile and hold his arm. "Thanks for saving me by the way, when I was under the potion," you say. 

James leans away and studies your soft expression with a small smile. "I'd be an asshole not to help you. I didn't want to see you get hurt." 

"Still, if you hadn't seen that something was wrong I don't know what would have happened."

"Nothing would have happened because I was there," James insists and kisses your forehead, "I'll always be there." He adds in a whisper into your hair.

It's only for him to hear. He doesn't want to just tell you he's there for you, instead he wants to show you. Everyday.

[alwaysmoncheri]

𝐌𝐘 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 — JAMES POTTER!

pairings ❧ james potter x reader

summary ❧ no one makes james potter feel the way that his girlfriend does and he definitely knows it

warnings ❧ female!reader, cheesy writing, lots of fluff, sunshine!reader, james is whipped for the reader, based on my girl, by the temptations, implications of wolfstar, pda, not proofread

word count ❧ 1.1k

additional notes ❧ my first james fic sort of blew up and i was feeling inspired to write another—thank you for all your support | i also have a longer version for this so let me know if you’re interested ૮꒰ྀི⸝⸝> . <⸝⸝꒱ྀིა

You’re James’ sunshine, you’re his bundle of light and happiness on a cloudy day, and you’re all of his favorite things mixed into one beautiful girl. To James, nothing can ever compare to the way you make him feel. Every time you look in his direction with those captivating eyes that always sparkle with love—love that you constantly spread across the school like it’s your only goal in life—to make people feel loved, special, wanted—unlike so many—your contagious smile that makes him feel all giddy and causes his stomach to flutter with excitement.

Everything you do, everything you are, makes James feel like one of those special recipients of all the love you have stored in your overflowing heart. James feels like the luckiest guy in the world to have the privilege of holding you in his arms during the cold winter nights spent in his dormitory, the early spring mornings strolling through the flower meadow the two of you found in the outskirts of Hogwarts, the hot summer days spent in the backyard of the Potter residence, and the cool autumn evenings feeling the cool breeze blowing the fallen leaves past your feet.

Even now, you stroll through the doors to the common room and look so effortlessly breathtaking. The elegance you seem to carry with you to every room you enter makes James’ heart race because you’re his girl and no one else can take you away from him.

Yours and James’ friends always know when you’ve entered a room, not just because your presence is enough alone, but because James always seems to have an absolutely stunned expression dancing across his face, almost as if his heart has stopped beating—this time it leads the group to tease the love sick boy.

“What’s got you all smiles, Prongs?” Sirius asks curiously and with a teasing smile he playfully nudges his best friend’s shoulder, earning no reaction from James—who seems to be mesmerized, by your presence, “Is it that girl of yours, again?”

“Is that even a question?” Lily scoffs lightly and with a dramatic roll of her eyes she gazes past the small crowd of people also entering the common room in an attempt to spot your radiant figure, “Of course it’s (Y/n).”

“Let’s ask the lover boy,” Marlene suggests with a sly grin and points the book she's currently reading towards James, before calling over to him teasingly while tilting her head to one side, “Oh, lover boy?”

“Yeah?” James responds without tearing his gaze away from you and when your eyes finally meet he can’t help but let out a captivated sigh, his eyes screaming his absolute admiration for you.

“See, here she comes now," Lily smirks, gesturing in the direction of you, as you continue to make your way towards the group, who are casually sitting in their respective spots around the room—Lily and Mary are sitting together on the couch closest to the blazing, however warm fire, Remus and Marlene are reading on the couch across from them, Sirius is comfortably situated on the floor between Remus’ legs, and finally James is sprawled out on a lounge chair angled directly towards his lovely girlfriend—you. 

“Good morning, everyone.” You greet your friends with a loving smile, plop yourself down on James’ lap, and finally turn your long-craved attention toward your favorite boy, “Hey, Jamie.” You add sweetly and swiftly lean over to plant your soft, addicting lips upon his flushed cheek.

“Good morning, love.” James replies, adjusting his hands on your hips in order to pull your back flush against his chest—something you shamelessly lean into. As James wraps one of his arms around your waist and nervously fidgets with the hem of your shirt, you wrap your own arms around his shoulders, place your hands at the nape of his neck, and begin to twirl the ends of his curls (that need a trim, you notice) around your fingers—something you know he’s obsessed with.

You then glance around the room at your friends as they engage in each of their preferred activities on this peaceful and quiet evening. Your face transforms into a content smile, reminiscing on what your life might be like when you and your friends all leave Hogwarts. A day where all of your friends come over to the Potter resistance—you and James’ house, and spend the day around the fire, warm cups of tea within reach, silent communication being shared between you and James before the two of you sneak away and up the perfect wooden stairs to your bedroom, where laughter and secrets are shared under the sheets.

“Prongsy here hasn’t stopped smiling since you walked through that door.” Sirius smiles causally, leaning further back against Remus’ legs as the sandy-brown-haired boy nervously shifts in his chair and swiftly runs the hand that isn’t holding his book through his hair. Sirius’ comment is directed towards you, and you finally snap back into reality when you notice that knowing smirk plastered across Sirius’ face.

James lets out a dramatic groan while throwing his head back against the chair that the two of you continue to sit in. Your boyfriend’s reaction to Sirius’ constant teasing causes a quiet giggle to fall from your lips. The sound of your contagious laugh makes James’ stomach swoon with love and his face visibly lights up after lifting his head back up off of the chair. James can’t help but stare at you even when you’re sitting right in his arms. You look so sweet, radiating with love and warmth. At this moment, James can only imagine what those lips of yours might taste like. And that’s when he kisses you.

James can’t control himself and for valid reasons. You taste just the same as you always do—like honey, sweet as can be. It would be impossible for the bees not to be jealous of him. James could never get tired of kissing your lips and he’s not ashamed of it. If he’s going to spend the rest of his life with you then he’s always going to express his everlasting amount of love and affection for you.

The kiss catches you off guard, not expecting such passion and aggression in front of your friends, but you instinctively kiss James back. Your hands tangle through James’ hair while his grip on your hips and the waist tighten ever-so-slightly. This earns him a surprised squeak from you, and causes a boyish grin to form on James’ face as he kisses you.

“Get a room!” Sirius shouts jokingly from his spot on the floor which causes you and James to pull away with love sick grins consuming your expressions.

“You’re my girl.” James whispers into your ear and affectionately bumps his nose into the apple of your cheek, tickling your sensitive skin. A soft giggle bubbles into the air when James begins to pepper kisses all over your face.

“And I’ll always be your girl.”

masterlist . my taglist

alwaysmoncheri © ─ all rights reserved. please do not repost/translate/copy any of my work.

[livinginshambles]

I thought you'd be different | James Potter

Pairing: James Potter x Slytherin!Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4.6k

Summary: A cinderella story (maybe a little romeo and juliet while we're at it) but Hogwarts - Enemies-ish to lovers. You find an enchanted parchment through wich you anonymously talk to a stranger (James). When you meet him at the Yule ball, he is not who you expected, but you give him a chance. When you realise that was clearly a mistake, you flee cinderella style.

Probably part one of two again.

Notes: Not proofread, grammar mistakes. Discrimination issues, themes of bullying. Regulus is our friend. James is an idiot, but we knew that already. Sirius sucks.

Masterlist. Part two. Part three

--------------------------------

You could still remember the moment vividly, as if it was engraved in your memory. That moment when the sorting hat placed you in Slytherin instead of Gryffindor like your two older sisters had been sorted. You could still see the look of surprise, concern, horror and then eventually disgust, every time you close your eyes.

“Now we finally know your true colors,” is what your sister Alyssa had hissed coldly at you. You had pleadingly looked at your other sister, but Marla had supported her twin sister, disregarding the confused and scared look in your eleven-year-old eyes.

“Don’t talk to us, don’t look at us and don’t mention us at all,” she sneered down at you and for a moment you wondered how she hadn’t been the one to be sorted into Slytherin instead. But you had cast your eyes down and agreed.

But years passed and you had become the very stereotype of a Slytherin student, completely leaning into the cold, distant, quiet but calculating persona that your sisters had created for you. Might as well, you figured after your parent’s dismay at the revelation of your house.

You were making your way down the corridor, long strides as you passed your sisters while looking them straight in the eye. They grimaced at the sight of you, but without their entire group of classmates, they didn’t dare make any comments. A feeling of victory erupted inside of you, and you couldn’t help the small smirk that crept up your face.

“What poor soul suffered for you to look so satisfied?” You turned your head to look at the person who called out to you. James Potter and Sirius Black were both leaning against a statue in the open yard. “Did you get rid of Regulus or something?” Sirius taunted. “Finally had enough of him following you around, did you L/N?”

“Go die in a ditch, Sirius,” you retorted with an eye roll, but seemed unphased.

“Why so much hostility,” James unpleasantly remarked, and you halted in your step. “10 points from Gryffindor for loitering,” you pettily decided.

“If you have nothing to do, other than insulting students, I would love to recommend you to Professor McGonagall for detention. Heard she was still looking for the person who made all the pumpkins explode last week during Halloween, and you guys are terrible at getting rid of the evidence.” With a last glance up and down, you continued your way towards the room of requirement.

When you entered the sober room with a sigh, you noticed the small scrolled up piece of parchment in the middle of the room. You frowned. This was your space. The room didn’t open this space for anyone else, you made it specifically as a safe haven.

You cautiously approached the parchment and rolled it open to reveal nothing. It was completely blank. You shrugged. If the room left this here, it was meant for you, and so you took a seat and started drawing on it.

James sat in an empty room, his invisibility cloak hiding him from plain sight as he pulled the now folded paper from his back pocket. He inspected it closely, almost pressing the paper to his glasses in a curious manner. He had gone to the Room of Requirements earlier that day and found a piece of paper floating in the air.

James unfolded the paper, and his eyebrows flew up. Lines were appearing on the paper by itself, and a beautiful portrait of a weeping willow with a girl, crying on a bench under the tree appeared.

James fumbled to find his quill and ink. Then he started to write something on it, in a handwriting that he only ever used for written exams. Credits to Professor McGonagall, who had announced that she would not be grading anything she couldn’t read. And she had looked over her glasses at him while she said it.

It’s beautiful.

You dropped the parchment at the words that formed right under your drawing. You traced it with your fingers. Then you decided to write back.

Thank you, I’ve been dreaming about this for the past two days.

You frowned at yourself, unsure why you would disclose such information, but figured no one would be able to trace this back to you anyway.

James blinked at the response he got, mouth open in surprise. He wasn’t sure why he was so surprised. It must simply be a spell of some sort after all. He stared at the sad drawing and the sentence, and then he made up his mind, writing back.

It must be lonely for that girl to cry by herself under the weeping willow.

Your eyes followed the words that formed in a trance.

If she ever feels lonely again, she can always pour her heart out on this parchment. I’ll be the mighty guardian wizard that will make all her worries magically disappear.

A grateful smile made its way up your face and when you scribbled back a response, James couldn’t help but smile as well.

Maybe she will.

You doodled a wizard sitting on the bench next to the crying girl, a consoling hand stretched out.

That's how you became James’ best kept secret. He learned that you were indeed a student at Hogwarts, but that you felt lonely. That you enjoyed butterbeer, but never got to enjoy it on a Hogsmeade outing with friends, because you rarely had any. He learned that you felt inferior to your siblings and a disappointment to your parents. He noticed how you would draw a circle as the dot on your ‘i’ and learned, when he asked, that you did that because you had once seen Professor McGonagall do that when you were in your first year, and had practiced mimicking her handwriting, should it ever come in handy.

In return, he had told you that he felt pressured by the reputation that he had to maintain. He loved Quidditch and absolutely despised Ancient Runes, to which you had replied, “who doesn’t?”. He told you that he had illegally learned to become an Animagus, a stag, and that he wasn’t sure yet what the future would hold for him. He even revealed to you that he desperately wants to protect his friends and sometimes had nightmares, which usually resulted in a sneak around the castle at midnight. When you had asked him if he’d ever been caught, he responded with, “never”, and had explained to you that he had an invisibility cloak.

Two months passed and before you knew it, you were explaining Transfiguration through the enchanted parchment. You did conclude from this that your pen pal was most likely in a year or two higher than yourself but decided not to comment on it. James on the other hand, was under the assumption that you must be from his year, as you managed to help him study for his exams.

But now, it was almost 12 o’clock midnight, and James chewed his lip while he looked at the parchment. He hesitated for a moment. Then he decided to ask you the one question he had been yearning to know the answer to.

Who are you?

You looked at the paper sadly, and sighed.

You’d be disappointed.

I understand if you don’t want to reveal yourself. But know that I could never be disappointed by you, Willow.

James sighed when you didn’t answer anymore. He waved away the light that emitted from the tip of his wand and took his glasses off. He went to put the parchment under his pillow as usual, when he saw the scribbling movement that he’d gotten so accustomed to.

He scrambled to grab his wand to shed light on the paper but accidentally nudged them off the nightstand and onto the floor, where it rolled under his bed. James’ eyes flickered back to the paper in his hand, and he managed to catch the first letter of your name as it was written in capital letters.

But your cursive handwriting, the dark and lack of glasses made it impossible to read the rest of your name. When he finally reached his wand and put on his glasses, he heard the clock strike twelve and he cursed as he grasped the parchment tightly, hurried ‘lumos’ and saw that the parchment had reset itself to a blank page again, just as every night at 12 o’clock at midnight.

Wait, please! I didn’t catch it before it erased itself. Please write it again?

You let out a sigh in relief after you had internally bashed your head against a wall.

No, it was stupid of me. I’m glad you didn’t see it.

You leaned back into your armchair with a racing heart. You couldn’t believe you had done that.

“Regulus,” you acknowledged as you pulled the chair back to sit next to him in the library. “Y/N,” Regulus quietly responded without looking up from his book, and if you didn’t know any better, his straight face would indicate annoyance. Luckily, you did know better.

“You smile any brighter, the sorting hat will transfer you to Hufflepuff, you know,” you teased him.

His face distorted in a grimace and without missing a beat, he replied, “do kill me before such a thing occurs.” You shook your head and finally sat down. Then you pursed your lips in thought.

“You know how I’ve been working all summer to earn galleons?”

“No.”

“Well I did.”

“So it seems.”

“Anyway, I rented a small flat,” you blurted out. Regulus finally looked up at you, surprise almost evident on his face. Then again, you didn’t have the most amazing home situation either. You often opted to stay behind at Hogwarts for the holidays. It is how you two had befriended each other, especially ever since Sirius left him to his own devices at home. Parents, it was a trauma bonding thing.

“Congratulations,” he nodded, his voice trailed off as he tried to see how this would concern him.

“So I thought you might want to stay with me over the Christmas holidays? Your mother doesn’t hate me, so I thought it might be possible. Gives you a chance to get out once in a while.” You tentatively brought up the sensitive subject.

“And what makes you think living with you will be any more bearable than living in my own mansion?” Regulus snarkily remarked.

You squinted your eyes at him in a scowl. “A simple ‘no’ would suffice don’t you think?”

“Do I have to pay rent?”

“Depends on whether or not the answer impacts your decision.”

“So not then.”

You huffed.

“Fine, I suppose I could join you in your small flat.”

“Merlin, don’t go doing me any favors Reg, I wouldn’t want to owe you.”

Regulus shook his head in amusement.

Satisfied with your rather successful attempt to invite him over, you got up. The chair you sat on screeched loudly as it was being pushed back. You could feel the librarian’s furious eyes on your back and rolled your eyes at her as you made your way to the door. “Alright, alright, I’m leaving,” you waved your hand in the air and exited the room.

You made it approximately two steps when you spotted your sisters again. “Of course you would cause a disturbance in the library,” Marla spat at you. You raised your eyebrows but remained unimpressed.

“I see you’ve got your buddies to back you up now?” you commented and tilted your chin slightly upwards. Your eyes flickered to your other sister, their closest friends, and the marauders.

For a moment, you considered walking away, but there was just something about that twitching lip of your sister that had you irked.

You stepped forward, narrowing the gap between you and your sister. You leaned in slightly and then, “Boo.”

It took your other sister, Alyssa about one second to have her wand pulled out and pointed at your throat.

James watched the interaction with a small frown on his face. He didn’t really speak with the fellow Gryffindor twins, but their friends and Lily were friends, so the marauders had joined them on their way towards the courtyard.

His mind flickered to a conversation he had had with ‘Willow’ about her sisters, and he wondered if you felt the same sadness and inferiority as his pen pal. And with that in mind, he pulled Alyssa back by her robe with one harm, the other lowering her raised wand.

“Let’s not,” he shrugged, when she raised her brows in question at him.

“She clearly threatened my sister,” Alyssa defended.

You scoffed at that. “I said ‘boo’. That’s hardly a threat,” you rolled your eyes and glanced at James who tried to offer you something that resembled a smile.

Was he mocking you? “Fancy yourself a hero, don’t you, Potter.”

“Hey, I was just trying to help,” he raised his hands in defense.

“Cause you’re such a good soul,” you sarcastically remarked.

“Yeah, actually. At least better than you. That hostility is so uncalled for,” Sirius mumbled under his breath, and you shot him a glare. “Right, better than me. Let me ask the two-dozen tormented Slytherin students you’ve bullied this past year. Bet Snape will buy your self-proclaimed ‘kindness’.”

You were already walking away when Sirius opened his mouth to call something out to you, but James kicked his shins in attempt to shut him up. Your words resonated in his mind.

Maybe he was a twat.

Am I a twat?

What the bloody hell are you on about?

Someone called me a twat today. Now that wasn’t necessarily true, but the implications were there.

Did you deserve it?

Sort of.

Sort of?

I mean, I am only an asshole to people who are assholes themselves and deserve it. But I guess that makes me an asshole too.

You hesitated for a moment and decided to write your opinion on the matter.

Maybe you being an asshole to people makes them assholes. And then it becomes a vicious circle. Self-fulfilling prophecy and all that bogger.

You reckon?

Wouldn’t have written it down if I didn’t.

On a brighter note, do you have a date for the Yule ball after the exams?

If you’re asking me out, I already promised my friend that we’d go together.

Oh right. But would you save me a dance? Maybe at midnight under the main crystal chandelier?

James bit his lip again in suspense. The Yule ball is a masked ball anyways, if you don’t want to reveal yourself.

Midnight, main crystal chandelier. You decided to leave it at that. Besides. You could enchant the mask a little extra, so you’d be even more unrecognizable. You wondered who would be behind the kind words of the parchment.

It felt strange to you. Really looking forward to something to the point you could feel jitters in your stomach in anticipation. But it was having a certain effect on you that even the younger Black couldn’t help but miss.

Regulus squinted his eyes and moved his jaw in thought. When he had had enough, he pulled you aside.

“Out with it.”

You deflated. You knew that he knew what he was talking about, so you shrugged. “Someone asked me to save a dance next week,” you mumbled.

“And you want to?” Regulus’ tone shifted to an incredulous one.

“I found an enchanted parchment in the room of requirements and it’s connected. I’ve been using it to have conversations with a mystery person.”

It felt great to be able to share this with your friend and you leaned against the wall behind you. “So yeah.” You finished the confession with an awkward hand gesture.

Regulus took a moment to register what you said. And then, as if it was the most normal thing ever, he responded with, “I see. And you have no idea who?”

You let yourself slide down the wall and tiredly put your head on your propped up knees. “Probably a Gryffindor.”

Regulus started laughing. You snapped your head up and scowled at him, not that he was used to anything else from you.

“As long as it’s not a mudbl-“

You kicked his legs and made him lose his balance. You shot him a warning glance. “You know my opinion on that.”

Regulus sighed. You had once confided in him about your home situation, including that time when you had overheard your parents argue when you came home for the first time after having been sorted into Slytherin. Your father had addressed the matter as soon as you walked through the door.

“You’re no daughter of mine.” He had said with disapproval in his voice. It wasn’t meant as a figurative insult. It was a statement. Your father believed that you could simply not biologically be his daughter. The words had you avert your eyes to the floor in shame.

“My entire bloodline has been sorted into Gryffindor.” He had looked at your mother. “Your family does have Slytherins. She’s most likely the result of your affair with that muggle a decade ago. It is possible.” And just like that, he had practically disowned you.

“Okay,” Regulus relented. “We’ll see who it is next week.”

James was nervously looking around, standing partnerless in the middle of the dancefloor. He had long forgone the mask that he had chosen because it prevented him from using his glasses. He looked at the great clock just above the table with drinks and pulled a hand through his hair.

It was time, so where were you? Hopefully you hadn’t chickened out yet because he was absolutely dying to meet you.

There was just something about you. It sparked something in him that he hadn’t felt since Lily. He’d look forward to your messages all the time. Every morning, he practically jumped up in anticipation and excitement as he reached under his pillow to read your ‘good morning’ message for the day. A smile would pass his lips each time.

James was ripped from his thoughts when a hand was placed on his shoulder blade. It tapped twice. He stopped breathing for a moment before turning around. And then the breath was knocked out of both of you completely.

For two different reasons.

James stared in awe at you. You wore a white and silver dress, covered in diamonds. A delicate white mask covered the upper part of your face, and he stared intently at your eyes, but somehow, he still couldn’t pinpoint who you were.

He could see all of your features clearly, but as if he was in a dream, he somehow couldn’t piece everything together to identify you. A charm, he realized. He was disappointed but shook it off. If you felt insecure, then he wouldn’t push it.

James’ face broke out in a grin, and he stepped forward. He couldn’t help but reach out to your face. But you took a step back. His hand fell and he frowned at your reaction, suddenly scared. He wasn’t wearing a mask after all. Compared to you, he was completely vulnerable.

Before he could say anything, you cut him to it. “No,” you hoarsely managed. “This was a mistake.” You turned around and escaped from the center of the dancefloor. James chased you.

“Wait, please. I’m sorry!” He called out after you.

You slowed your pace when you reached the corner next to the staircase. Then you shook your head with a sight, and you pinched your nose. James could see your furrowed brows.

“You have nothing to be sorry about. But my intention wasn’t to dance with James Potter. It was a mistake. Sorry for wasting your time.”

James shook his head in his turn. “Don’t say that,” his eyes pleaded. “So you know who I am. Am I..” He hesitated. “Am I that bad? I don’t know if you’ve heard any rumors about me, or what made you have a bad impression of me, but I’m the one you’ve been talking to for the past months.” He looked at you desperately. “Give me a chance, please. I only ask for a dance.”

Your eyes flickered over his sad face. You knew James from all the pranks that he did, mostly committed towards your house. You knew him from the banters you had with him, and from crying students that you undid hexes for. You knew him from pushing him out of the way as he purposely blocked your path to throw insults at you.

But you also knew the boy from the enchanted paper. The one who listened to all your worries. Who offered advice and indulged into your hopes and dreams for the future. You knew the boy who confided in you all his deepest secrets and own insecurities. Who made your day and cheered you up with his jokes and positivity.

“I can give you a dance,” you caved, and you offered him your hand, which he scrambled to hold.

James was a fairly decent dance partner, you soon discovered as he guided you with grace. “So I suppose you dance often?”

“I just practiced a lot,” he sheepishly admitted. “I had to impress you somehow, you know. Someone like you had to be crazy out of my league after all.”

Your lips twitched. “I think you’ve got it all backwards, Potter.”

“You know you can call me James, right?”

“Well, James,” you enunciated his name. It felt weird on your tongue. You had only ever spoken his last name in contempt. “I’m not very liked by more than half the students of this castle.” You motioned towards your mask. “Hence the enchantment,” you added halfheartedly.

“You don’t have to tell me who you are,” James immediately assured you, and you did relax at his words. “I’m just really happy that you’re real.”

You let out a laugh. “Why would I not be real?”

“I don’t know,” James whined. “Maybe I was just talking to really sentient paper or something?”

His answer only made you laugh more. James’ grin only spread wider.

“Whoever you are, I wouldn’t judge you,” James added quietly. You watched him silently as you swayed around the room.

“That’d be a first,” you joked sadly, remembering your own family.

“What can I say, I’m just different,” James cheekily winked and then twirled you around.

“We’ll see about that, James. You have the rest of the night to convince me.”

The dance ended and you curtsied to each other, out of breath. “But you’ll have to excuse me while I go find a bench because my feet are killing me. These heels are no joke,” you groaned in pain and sort of started to limp your way back.

James quickly came to support you and held your waist as he escorted you back to the side of the room. When you discovered that there were not in fact any benches, you sat down on the first few steps of the staircase. He raised his eyebrows when you kicked off your heels and saw that the entire slipper was made of glass.

“I transfigured those shoes myself, you know,” you proudly stated. James looked at it in disbelief. “This can carry a human weight?”

“Yeah, it took a lot of different enchantments and attempts,” you admitted.

James’ disbelief changed to awe. He took a seat next to you and you two started chatting about random things. You looked at James’ profile as he talked about Quidditch and felt soft towards him. Maybe he really wasn’t so bad after all.

The two of you were deep into a conversation when you were interrupted .

“Who is this, Prongs?” Sirius curiously stepped forward and shook your hand. You couldn’t help but grimace at him.

You politely nodded and explained the situation, but even though you engaged into a civil, nonchalant conversation, you couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable at the presence of James’ friends.

“Anyways,” Sirius leans in towards James. “Did you see Snape over there?” He nodded his head towards Snape, and you squinted your eyes at the boy in front of you.

“You’re not thinking of doing anything to him, are you,” you sharply asked. Both James and Sirius were taken aback by your new tone.

“Nothing harmful,” Sirius laughed, but it faded when you simply raised your eyebrows at him. Sirius looked towards James for help. James hesitated. He had been reluctant to indulge Sirius’ ideas ever since his conversation with you about being a twat. But Sirius was his friend.

“We’re just having a bit of fun,” James tried to explain. “We’re just joking around, besides, he’s in Slytherin, so definitely a blood supremacist.” Your face fell at his words.

You watched his features contort in disgust and suddenly you were eleven again, and all you could see was your sisters disgusted face.

By the time you had snapped out of it, Sirius was already making his way towards Snape. James had gotten up and his head flickered between you and his friend.

You got up as well.

“I really thought you’d be different, James.” You scoffed to yourself. “You really had me convinced there for a moment. But I understand that you’re really just a bully after all, blinded by prejudice. You really are a twat.”

James’ heart dropped at hearing you say those words. He felt ashamed and shook his head pleadingly as he searched for words. But the thing is, you couldn’t care less, because you were hurt too. So you turned around and fled up the stairs as fast as you could, just in case he would come after you.

“Hey Prongs, you coming or not?” Sirius called out. James looked back at Sirius as he contemplated his next move. He mouthed ‘no’, and then tried to run after you. But by the time he reached the hallway that you had disappeared to, you were nowhere in sight.

In denial, James ran towards the moving staircases and looked up, in hopes to find you there.

Had he looked down, maybe he would have caught the last shimmer of reflection of the diamonds on your dress.

James refused to give up, however and he started to knock on the paintings, hoping that they could tell him where you went. He just had to apologize.

A symphony of protests and yelling echoed within the hall. “Quiet you!” “Have you no respect for the sleeping?” “I will complain to Filch about this, young man!” “Leave us alone!”

When the voices resided, most portraits were empty, their contents having escaped elsewhere.

Defeated, James groaned and hit his head with his fists. “You stupid git!” he yelled out in frustration at himself. James slouched down to sit on the stairs. Then he reached for the parchment and a pen in the inner pocket of his jacket and started scrambling something down.

“Please answer,” he whispered. He almost had to laugh at how pathetic he must look.

You sat on your bed after having made your way to the Slytherin dorms.

I’m sorry. You’re right, I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t know why I said that. I’m stupid and I ruined everything. Please let me make it up to you. I enjoy being with you, I don’t want you to think of me like this.

 Like I said before, this was clearly a mistake.

James read your words over and over again and he buried his face in his hands in shame. He stayed there for a long while and by the time he returned to the room, the party was over, and people had started returning to bed. On the left side of the staircase were your enchanted glass slippers precisely where you’d kicked the off and left them.

Preview of part two

Part two

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[boneblushed]

Is it chill that you’re in my head?

synopsis your best friend James isn’t sure why he’s so angry about the fact that you’re going on a date with someone else.

wc 2.6K

“He’s looking over here,” James sings under his breath, his brown eyes full of mirth. He’s balancing on the spindly hind-legs of his library chair, the Potions essay he’s supposed to be doing laid out in disarray.

You send him a reproachful look. “You’re being malicious.” When you turn back around to face Davey Gudgeon’s table, there’s a split second of eye contact before he ducks his head down abashedly, his cheeks a brilliant rouge.

He has a crush on you, apparently. Sirius and Remus had overhead him talking about it on his way down to breakfast this morning—about how prefects rarely escaped unscathed after sharing something as intimate as a Saturday night duty.

James Potter, your best friend and a royal pain in your ass, finds this revelation abso-fucking-lutely hilarious for some reason. Asshole.

“Au contraire,” he murmurs, the grin on his face audible, “I’m being a world class wingman.”

The look on his face is downright dangerous. He waggles his eyebrows at you suggestively, unperturbed by the frown on your own, a warning. Easing forward until each hind-leg finds the ground with a resounding thud, he cups his hands around his mouth, whisper-shouting, “Oi! Gudgeon!”

Davey Gudgeon reddens further, a feat you didn’t think was possible until now. He glances over at James dismally, a furtive expression on his face. “What?” He mouthes, sending you this weak half-smile. It’s sort of sweet, almost contagious. You find yourself smiling back at him on instinct.

“Come over here, you bludger,” James chastises, like that’s the obvious next step. To be fair, it probably is to him — he’s never shied away from flirting with the girls he fancies, a self-proclaimed dating aficionado with way too much chat for his own good.

Davey hesitates, his nervous gaze flitting to you momentarily. He looks as though he wants to do just that, but isn’t sure whether his crush on you is reciprocated. Sweet.

He has gentle eyes, too, pretty juniper with bright specks of burnt ochre. A nice head of brown hair. If it was cold outside, you bet he’d offer you his Quidditch jersey without hesitation.

You think you need sweet, all things considered. You’ve known James Potter all of seven years now, had a wretched crush on him all of five, and never once has he indicated that his aforementioned expertise could ever extend to you.

It’s high-time that you gave your pathetic heart a rest.

“You’re making him miserable,” you mutter, ever-reproachful.

Davey hasn’t moved yet, though you’re sure he wants to, his hands braced on the table in front of him apprehensively. He keeps looking between you and James, surveying his options; in order ease his anguish, you decide you’d better make the decision for him.

You push your chair back and stand up, it’s spindly legs scraping against the vinyl floor forebodingly. James looks up in surprise. “Where r’you going?”

“To Gudgeon’s table.”

“Why?” James urges, perplexed. He half-stands too, his features a smidge less mirthful than before.

“So you’ll stop,” you reply, frowning down at him.

He raises his arms in surrender. “I’m stopping.” A pause. In the beat that passes, his assessing gaze falls over you in paces. “You’re not… you’re not keen on him too, are you?”

You think on this, cocking your head to one side. “I don’t know. Maybe? He’s kinda sweet.”

“But he doesn’t even have the balls to come over here and ask you out properly,” James whisper-shouts, mildly exasperated.

You’ve never once called him sweet.

He’s had this tragic crush on you for all of seven years, and never once has he been on the receiving end of such a fond adjective. He’d only made a fuss over this Davey situation because he was sure it was just a jibe — no way someone like you would be interested in a guy like Gudgeon, no way you would even entertain the possibility of more than friends.

Right?

James wants that more than friends thing with you, bad. This morning, when Sirius’d brought up Bludgeon’s crush on you—sniggering violently—he’d snuck a glance at your features to ensure that it wasn’t reciprocated. He’s sure he’d caught a bit of second-hand embarrassment, though maybe it was actually just tender hearted diffidence. Maybe Davey fucking Gudgeon had something that he somehow didn’t.

Right now, James’d give up his head boy badge and Quidditch captaincy to acquire that something. His chest hurts terribly. He runs his sloven fingers through his unkempt hair, sending you another look of bewilderment.

“Because you’re here,” you reprove. “Course he’s not going to come over when the James Potter is taking the mickey out of him.”

You say his name like it’s an insult. James’ heart plummets. “I’m not — he’s welcome to come over,” he argues quietly, chagrined. “Besides, he’s going to have to get used to me if he wants to be your boyfriend.”

“Why?” You frown. “I always bugger off when you’re with another girl.”

“That’s different,” James insists, frowning in tandem.

“How’s that different?”

They aren’t you, James thinks vaguely. His poor heart blunders for the umpteenth time this afternoon. “None of them are girlfriends.”

“Not for lack of trying,” you mutter. James swears he hears a hint of spite in your tone. “Doesn’t matter, anyway. M’going over.”

James slumps back into his seat reluctantly. He knows that you’re right, begrudging as that revelation may be — he is always flirting with one girl or another, though that’s more so to pass time than anything particularly serious. Never you. You’d see right through him, anyway. Besides, the last time he tried, it’d been so disastrous you’d assumed he was joking.

It’d been at that Halloween party they’d had in the Gryffindor Common Room last year, firewhiskey flowing and sweet treats piled atop every surface.

You were wearing this gorgeous, albeit bemusing, costume of a Muggle someone — Wonder Woman, or something, James didn’t quite understand it. Showing a lot of skin. Your pretty eyes were accented by rouge glitter, lips all glossy, and your exposed limbs and bare waist had eased his heart right into his throat.

And James Potter didn’t often find himself lost for words, but it appeared as though this party was one of those exceptions.

“Woah,” he’d murmured, wolf-whistling lowly. He was in this ridiculous, Babbity Rabbity costume (courtesy of Sirius, who was a cackling pot), feeling entirely out of place when you looked so beautiful. “Christ, Y/N, who’re you meant to be? The hottest muggleborn at Hogwarts or something?”

You’d rolled your eyes then, because no way he was serious. “Don’t tease, James. Did you guys manage to snag any cauldron cakes?”

He’d been too busy to insist his sincerity, fond gaze travelling down your bare limbs, slow. Lingering on the wafer of exposed waist between your corset and skirt. He’s still agonised by the want to touch your soft skin; that wretched Hogwarts shirt tuck has prevented this from happening.

“By the fire,” he’d answered after a beat, dazed.

And when you’d fallen out of earshot, James’ eyes still trained on your figure, Sirius and Remus’d come up behind him, the latter wearing Muggle-manufactured fangs. (Supposedly, he was meant to be a vampire.)

“You’ve got a tragic affliction, James,” Sirius’d tutted under his breath, faux-apologetic. “How’re you somehow able to flirt with every girl in this room except the one that matters?”

“Shut up,” he’d muttered back at the time, though as he thinks back on it now, he realises that Sirius was right.

For some reason, with you, he always manages to say exactly the wrong thing. He watches Davey scramble to straighten as you near his library table, the heat on his neck rising until his entire face is in a flush. And you’re smiling as you sit down beside him, this sweet, unabashed smile that looks too much like feelings reciprocated. Something in James’ ribcage cracks, an ugly emotion springing forth from within it. But he’s immobile, hands on the table and furrow in his brow, agonised by the fact that you’re looking at Davy all fond, not him.

Never him. You ask a question—James is trying his best to lip-read, but it’s difficult not to get carried away staring at your mouth. Davey nods, and then reddens some more. Then you stand up, feelings-reciprocated smile on your face as you walk back over to the table you’re sharing with James.

“He looks pleased,” James mutters grumpily.

You frown. “You don’t.”

“You’re doing charity work,” he answers, ignoring the insinuation. “You know that, right?”

“James,” you sigh, “you’re being unkind.”

“Because he’s punching.” But James knows this is unfair. He’s pretty sure every bloke in Hogwarts would be, if it was you and them.

—

“James,” Sirius calls, bemused. “You coming mate?”

Its autumn in Hogsmeade, and they’ve reached a cross roads.

The path to the left of them leads to the Hog’s Head Inn, one of their favourite haunts in the village due to its relative unpopularity. To the right, where James is glancing furtively, the cobblestone pavement takes them toward the Three Broomsticks. Where you are. With Davey.

Remus shares a knowing look with Sirius. “Think he’s in the mood for one of Rosmerta’s butter-beers, actually.”

James groans, scrubbing his calloused palm down his face slovenly. He knows exactly what he’s insinuating; Remus always has been the most astute of the lot. “Don’t bloody start.”

Sirius grins then, reaching for James and throwing an arm around his neck. “Reckon you’re going to need something stronger than butter-beer if you’re planning on watching Gudgeon snog your girl.”

His heart plummets. There’s that ugly emotion again, rearing its contemptuous head at him. “Wormtail’s there too,” he tries, shoving Sirius off. “We should go say hi.”

“Oh yes,” Sirius allows, his brown eyes full of mischief. “The one Marauder with a girlfriend. You after some tips, mate?”

“Cut him some slack, Sirius,” Remus chastises, though there isn’t much fire to his tone as he says it. “Reckon he’s miserable enough about the fact that the one time he fancies a girl she isn’t interested.”

James frowns, sending the pair of them a look of determination. “Look, shove off, both of you.” The crease between his eyebrows deepens further, keenly resolute. “I just want to check on her, alright? Make sure that bludger isn’t pulling anything funny.”

“Right.” Sirius nods soberly. “Or snogging her to death.”

“Fuck,” James groans again, his insides squirming. “You’ve gotta stop putting that image in my head.”

He turns toward the path to his right, the cobblestones plush with Autumn leaves, when he spots your figure in the distance and freezes. Coming closer. You look beautiful in this matter-of-fact, effortless way that makes James’ heart stutter; your pretty eyes are alight with mirth as you catch his gaze, this fond smile on your lips that makes him want to kiss you. Bad. He swallows thickly, his chest a pathetic mess.

Sirius and Remus must spot you too, because the pair of them beginning walking backward toward the Hog’s head, their eyebrows raised in tandem.

“She isn’t with the bludger, Prongs,” calls Sirius, a knowing lilt to his tone. “Now’s your chance.”

“My chance?” James asks, distracted.

“To snog her, you idiot.”

But James doesn’t hear him. Partly because the wind’s picked up, mostly because it’s difficult for him to concentrate on anything but your growing closeness.

Once you’re within earshot—more of you to agonise over, exposed waifs of skin like a siren song—he stumbles forward clumsily.

“Y/N,” James breathes out, pleasantly surprised. “Where’s Davey?”

You grimace, looking over your shoulder furtively. “I’ve just escaped him.”

James’ stomach deflates, relief washing over him in waves. He raises his eyebrows playfully. “Escaped?”

“Don’t,” you warn, frowning sternly. “He… he’s alright, really. Just doesn’t really know how to hold a conversation.” You grimace again. “Or take a hint. Like, at all.”

“Yeah? Why’d you say that?”

“Well,” you begin, and then you shiver, moving closer to James without meaning to. “Christ, Potter, you’re a really good wind shield, y’know that?”

“At your service,” he murmurs, inching forward too. “You were saying?”

You gaze up at him, the rough planes of his face ever present, and you’re struck by the revelation that he doesn’t need an old Quidditch jersey to keep you warm. He’s a furnace of body heat and cedar-wood cologne.

“Well,” you continue, voice low, “after two butter beers and absolutely zero chat, I’d sort of assumed that he’d have realised that this just isn’t going to work.”

“But…?”

“But,” you grimace, “he asked me out again.”

The way your features twist as you say it, as though that’s the last thing you want to do, wrings any residual jealousy he may be feeling right out of his stomach. He’s struck by this suddenly, overwhelming urge to caress your jaw and pull you closer.

“And let me guess,” James murmurs, grinning fondly. “You said yes.”

“I said I’ll see.”

“I worry all this charity work’s going to be the death of you, Y/N.”

You crinkle your nose up at him, punching his chest playfully. “Don’t you start James Potter.”

James raises his arms in surrender, still grinning. His gaze lifts above your head to take in the footpath behind you, and he finds himself looking right at the burly figure of Davey Gudgeon trudging toward the pair of you.

“Bloody hell,” he mutters, raising his eyebrows. “You weren’t kidding about him not being able to take a hint, huh?”

You furrow your brow, looking over your shoulder bemusedly. When your head whips back around to face him, your eyes are wide and a little tortured, dappled by the warm, orange hues of Autumn. A damsel, James’ thinks, dazed, as if that’s a normal thought for a eighteen-year-old bloke to have. He’s already spiralling over kissing you and it’s been all of five minutes.

“Is he looking over here?” You ask, your voice low.

James’ eyes dart back to Davey. “Uh, yeah?”

“Good.”

You wrap your arms around his neck hurriedly, leaning forward and pressing your lips against his. James takes a second to recalibrate, his poor heart a mess, but when he does, he’s quick to circle your waist and pull you closer, his strong arms firm and torso warm on your figure. It’s a deft kiss, chaste as it is agonising, though kiss enough for him to memorise the feeling. The buttery taste of your lips, the perfect way they appear to mould against his.

It’s a tandem emotion — you’ve revelling in this kiss far more than you should, the arduous pressure of James’ lips on your own. He’s going to leave a mark. He tastes like sugar quills and feels like the death of you, his sloven hands pressing into the bare skin of your waist.

When you do finally pull away, your cheeks are warm and you’re a little breathless. “S’he still there?”

A beat passes. James doesn’t look up.

You mistake his pause for unease, and grimace abashedly, looking away from him. In hindsight, you aren’t sure what possessed you to kiss him like that — you want to pretend it was to stave Davey away, but your traitorous heart says otherwise.

God, you think, it was a really good kiss. If only James liked it as much as you did.

If only you knew.

“Sorry,” you add in a hurry, still grimacing. “I — I wasn’t thinking, I just didn’t want Davey to come over here and I —”

“Y/N,” James interrupts, his voice rough, gravelly around the edges. “Stop talking.”

You let out a breath. “Why?”

“I want to pretend you kissed me because you wanted to, just for one more second.”

“What?” You ask, your eyes wide. “Why?”

James thinks, isn’t it obvious? He’s still marvelling over how perfect your mouth is.

“Because,” he admits quietly, “I’ve been wanting to do that for a while now.”

You don’t know what to say to this. Your still chest to chest with less than an inch between your figures, and you can feel your poor heart struggling to free itself from its cage. “You have?” You say, suddenly bashful.

James nods. His pupils are a little blown, his unkempt hair a mess, and he keeps his gaze trained on your lips as though he’s being paid for it. “And listen,” he murmurs, reaching forward to thumb over them softly. “Don’t worry about Davey Gudgeon.”

“Why not, James Potter?”

“Because I’d sooner die than let that bludger bore my girl to death again.”