#hockey!james potter

[amiableness]

Hockey!James Potter x Lupin!Reader ❆ 663 words

thank you to @moonpascal for reading this and giving me ideas! hockey!james is dedicated to you, babes <3 series masterlist ; main masterlist

“Put a shirt on—my sister’s coming over.” Remus calls out, smacking the back of the couch behind Sirius’ head. Sirius barely flinches, too absorbed in the video game to care. James glances up from where he’s sitting, his gaze casually following Remus as he walks into the living room. But then, as the words register, his head snaps back for a double take.

“Your sister’s coming over?” James sits up straighter, his interest piqued. “When?”

Remus glances at his phone as he settles into the chair next to the couch, “Pretty soon.”

“He’s one shot away from dead, James,” Sirius mutters through gritted teeth, his fingers flying over the buttons, laser-focused on the screen. “Get on that. Now.”  

Silence.  

Sirius darts a quick, panicked glance to his right, expecting to see James ready for action, only to find him staring intently at Remus instead, his controller slack in his hands.  

“Pretty soon? What does that mean? Ten minutes? Thirty?” James asks, his thoughts drifting to the state he’s in—his hair a disheveled mess from repeatedly running his hands through as he played games for half the day. Not to mention, he’s still lounging in his pajama pants, a consequence of having no classes and a rare night off from hockey practice. 

If he’d known you were coming over today, he would’ve made an effort—fixed his hair, changed out of his lazy clothes, maybe even tidied up the place a bit.

“James!” Sirius barks, his frustration mounting. “I said get on him, not play twenty questions!”  

Remus shrugs as he strides further into the room, completely unfazed by the chaos. “Again—I don’t know, mate. She just said, ‘pretty soon.’”

James frowns, his brow furrowing. “Do I have time to shower?”  

The high-pitched sound of a game-over screen fills the room, and Sirius throws his controller down with a groan. “Oh, bloody hell! We could’ve won that!” 

James glances over at the screen with a slight wince, “Shit, sorry.”

“Remus, you’re up,” Sirius announces, grabbing the controller James has abandoned and tossing it to Remus, who barely catches it. A disappointed look is shot in James’ direction as Sirius sets up the new game. “You’ve lost your privileges.”

Remus takes the controller, his eyes flicking to James as he stands and begins collecting the forgotten cans and empty food containers scattered around. Sirius glances over with an amused smirk, his gaze lingering on James’ frantic tidying.

“Should I be concerned that you’re cleaning up for my sister?” Remus asks, raising an eyebrow. James turns to face him, a guilty and uncertain expression crossing his face.

“Uh, I do—” James stammers, clearly unsure how to respond without annoying Remus. 

“If you’re gonna change, you might as well throw on a backwards hat,” Remus says, interrupting casually, his eyes glued to the screen as his fingers hover over the buttons. “She finds it hot on guys.” He catches James out of the corner of his eye—sees him straighten, the words sinking in as he nods slowly. Without a word, James turns and heads for the kitchen, muttering to himself, like he’s trying to remember where he’s got a baseball hat lying around.

“Wait, does she really?” Sirius asks, raising an eyebrow. Remus mutters a distracted “yeah.”

“Noted,” He nods, a sly grin creeping across his face. “I’ll be sure to wear one around her next time.”

Remus turns and shoots him a warning look, making Sirius pause. “Seriously? You’re handing him tips, but I can’t even joke about using them?”

“No, because he’s actually interested in being with her. You’re just interested in flirting with her.” Remus says, shooting Sirius a look of warning and protectiveness— the kind only a brother could deliver.

Sirius rolls his eyes, a playful smirk tugging at his lips, fully aware that Remus is right. James had fallen for you the moment Remus introduced you four years ago—his feelings for you were real, and somehow, everyone but you could see it.

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[moonpascal]

♡︎ hockey!james potter

╰┈➤ inspired au by @amiableness

[silencesscreams]

thin ice

hockey!james potter x ice skater!reader

summary: you and james go to the same training rink and always see each other. you eventually start talking and flirting, but what you didn’t know was that you’d see him at your best friend’s birthday party and get absolutely hooked.

warnings: fluffly fluff, petnames, f!reader, use of y/n a few times, she/her pronouns referring to r, drinking

pls tell me about any grammar mistakes, english isn’t my first language!!

he sure had a nerve.

first he bumps into you in the hallway and doesn’t even apologize,

and then he asks you to get him some water? what does he think you’re doing there?

“sorry, i don’t work here.” you said, looking at him with your brows furrowed.

“oh, i just thought that you worked here because of the matching uniforms, you know?” you were about to laugh at him but then you noticed the red on his cheeks. was this man blushing?

“i’m sorry, how many times did you ask girls from the skating team for water?” you giggled, and suddenly his face is even redder.

“lets just say i gotta apologize to a lot of girls. i’m james by the way. james potter.” he dropped his gloves as he went to shake your hand. as he bent down to pick them up, you read the name on his jersey. ‘prongs’. you didn’t know what it meant, but it was kind of cute.

“prongs? what does that mean?” you ask, curious about him.

“its my hockey name”

“hockey name? like an artist name?”

“sort of, its nicer to call for prongs than to call for james.” he explained.

“really? 'cause i like james better.” you said, grabbing your bag from the bench you were sat on. “well, gotta go. but i’ll see you later, prongs.”

“i didn’t catch your name!” he shouted as you walked away.

“guess you’ll just have to find out!” you said, smirking at him from afar.

james potter sure was interesting.

as time passed, he eventually figured out your name, but he didn’t really use it. you found out he loved pet names, and you eventually started liking them too.

sure, you weren’t close, but you really liked the ‘hey, hun, how are you?’s until you got something better than that.

“hey, love, how are you?” james asked as he filled his water bottle.

“hi, james, i’m good” you smiled

“so, i was thinking” your stomach started twisting itself into a knot. “could i maybe get your number?”

“yeah, of course.” your cheeks were getting hotter by the second.

“great, just type in” he smirked, giving you his phone. “i’ll text you later?”

“for sure.” you smiled.

once you got to practice, it was obvious something happened, especially because of the smile you couldn’t get rid of.

“what’s up, y/n?” pandora asked, as you sat down next to her.

“james. he asked me for my number.” you kept on smiling.

“you mean prongs? okay, score” marlene joked.

“please! we’re friends.” you insisted.

“like you don’t have the biggest crush on him.” pandora laughed and you shoved your face in your hands, blushing.

once james got to practice, it was obvious something had happened to him too. especially because he couldn’t stop smiling.

“spill it, prongs.” sirius said, without even looking at him for two full seconds.

“what?!” james got defensive and sirius glared at him. “i asked y/n for her number.”

“what’d she say?” peter asked, remus was clearly paying attention too.

“she just gave it to me, can you believe that?” he smiled.

“i actually can’t.” sirius joked.

“shut up!” james scoffed.

“we’re going to lily’s birthday thing, i’m sure she’ll be there too. if you wanna shoot your shot.” remus smirked at him.

“really?” james asked, a glimmer in his eyes.

james had never felt so excited about any girl before, he couldn’t actually describe it. there was just something about you.

you spent the whole week talking to james, texting, getting coffee after practice,

he took about two hours to get ready for lily’s birthday, he was so nervous when he got there he felt like he could faint. it also didn’t help sirius was laughing at him for a very long time, but when you got there? that was probably it for him.

he could’ve just fainted because of the dress you were wearing, red was definitely your color. and with that he couldnt stop picturing you in his team’s uniform.

as you said hi to your friends, mary pointed him out and you could’ve actually passed out. your stomach went into swirls and you waved at him from afar, when he smiled at you, that was probably the nail onto your coffin, because james potter was going to be the only thing on your mind for a long time.

he came over to you after about 15 minutes of overthinking all the things he said to you through text.

“hey, hun” he said, giving you a quick hug.

“hi, james, fancy seeing you here!” you joke, taking a sip from your coke and rum.

“well, what can i say? im a pretty unpredictable guy.” he joked, sitting next to you and playing with the straw on your cup.

“you want some?” you suggested because by the way he was looking at your cup, it seemed like he was craving it.

“nah, i’m driving tonight.” he said, a sad puppy look on his face.

“hey, y/n, weren’t you needing that drive home?” pandora asked, kicking your feet.

“oh, if you want to, i can take you home.” the dark haired boy suggested, smiling at you, again, and how could you say no?

“i’d actually love that, thanks” you couldn’t help but smile back.

“you can just drop me off here” you said as he stopped in front of the driveway. “thanks for the ride, jamie”

as you looked over to him, he was already looking at you. his eyes were focused on your mouth, and he knew that if he didn’t ask you now he probably wouldn’t.

“hey, i was thinking, my team’s playing next Saturday and i’d really like it if you’d come by and watch… if you’re free and want to, of course.” he was staring at the steering wheel. “it’s this casual thing, don’t worry, i actually think some of your friends are going and-“

“i’ll be there.” you assure him, james’ head quickly turns, hes facing you again.

now you both are just staring at each other, lingering. his hand went over to you and put back a strand of your hair, and so your heart was pounding in your chest very rapidly and you didn’t quite know what he’d do next.

“i really wanna kiss you now.” he whispered like it was the biggest secret he ever told anyone.

“okay.” you answered, quickly nodding, very nervous to say anything else.

“but i cant though, not yet, ‘cause i know you had a lot to drink.” you felt like he was mostly saying that to himself.

“good night, james, thanks again for the ride.” you felt kind of let down, but still gave him a kiss on the cheek before you opened the car door.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU COULDNT KISS HER? WHAT THE HELL JAMES??” sirius shouted out at the locker room.

“SHE HAD A LOT TO DRINK!” he was trying so hard to defend himself, peter shook his head in disbelief.

“shes out there, i think. i’ll kiss her as soon as we finish this, i swear.” james promised, putting on his gloves.

“its not us you gotta swear to, mate.” remus said, and james knew that.

“wait so he didnt kiss you because you had some drinks?” lily asked, confused. “THAT WAS A FOUL, COME ON REF!” she shouted out before you answered.

“i actually think its kind of sweet.” pandora commented.

“i feel the same, but i really wanted a kiss, and i didn’t even drink that much! did i?” you ask, nervously.

“i dont think so.” lily was up and clapping now, she was the most excited about the game of all people there, mary was just giggling at her girlfriend's enthusiasm.

you waved at james during the intermission, he blushed and waved back and you were incredibly happy. you were cheering when he scored, and eventually started shouting the same things as lily (because you knew nothing about the rules).

when they won the game, you cheered like a proud mother, it felt good to be there for him. as he stepped out of the rink, he was calling you over, as you ran to him, he was taking his helmet off and turned around to get the mouthguard and you thought that was the cutest thing.

“hi” you smiled at him.

“hi” he answered, pulling you in and immediately kissing you, his lips were soft and he smelled like strawberry two in one shampoo.

“is this okay?” he asked once he pulled back, you couldn’t bare to answer, so you nodded, and just pulled him in again.

“hm, could you maybe get me some water?” he joked, pulling back again

“you’re an idiot, james potter.”

later that same evening, as you watched him dip french fries in a milkshake, you realized that you were walking on thin ice, especially because you might be falling in love.

[vxntagedior]

Thoughts on hockey James

all day everyday!

him teaching his gf how to skate

or ice-skater!gf and he just obsesses over her

[ellecdc]

Can you imagine pregnant medic reader feeling baby kick for the first time and not wanting to interrupt the boys in practice/at a game but knowing how much they’d want to feel the baby?? (Can be with any of the boys or all of them LOL)

so cuttteeee

hockey!marauders x team medic!reader who interrupts practice [877 words]

CW: pregnancy, afab fem!reader, poly!marauders

The boys have been conflicted about you still working ever since they found out you were expecting. 

On one hand, they liked having you close by; within their sights should you need them, and just getting to enjoy the pregnancy with you even when they were traveling for away games.

On the other hand, they hated that you spent so much of your job on your feet, they were extremely nervous having you so close to the action of the game, and don’t even get them started when you have to step out onto the ice. 

But you were determined to work for as long as you possibly could, and you couldn’t deny that part of you enjoyed getting to spend as much time as possible with your boyfriends during this very exciting time of your lives.

Were there times you wondered if you wouldn’t perhaps benefit from a little space from them? Sure. Especially when James tried to sit in on all of your appointments with the guys to ensure you weren’t straining yourself, or when Sirius stood directly in your line of sight at every game in an attempt to ‘save you from the tomfoolery, babe’, or when Remus shoved anyone who tried to help you out onto the ice so he could chaperone you himself.

But there were moments - like this - that found you so grateful to have them close by. 

“You okay, mama?” Coach Moody asked, though he didn’t bother moving his gaze from the ice where head coach Albus was standing with the boys for practice. “You seem jumpy.” 

You hummed in agreement as you placed a hand on your stomach; gently pushing and prodding what felt like a hard part of a little body, wondering if you were only imagining it. 

You’d become aware that you weren’t simply growing at about eighteen weeks into your pregnancy when you felt the baby move for the first time. It was like you remembered that your pants were shrinking for an actual reason. But any movement on the baby's part could only be felt internally.

Today, however-

“Oh.” You whispered, and Moody wrenched his eyes from the ice to grab your elbow.

“Doc? Are you okay?” 

“Yes, yes. Sorry.” You let out with a laugh; looking to the ice to ensure the boys couldn’t see you being fussed over even though you sort of wanted to call them over here yourself. 

“What do you need?” Moody gruffed, though he kept his voice low as if knowing any attention directed your way would result in cacophony from nearly half the team.

“No, nothing. Sorry Coach.” You laughed. “I just…I think, well, the baby’s kicking.” 

Moody furrowed his eyes at you as he examined your face; one blue eye piercing and intuitive, the other glass eye which saw the iris and pupil replaced by the Gryffindor Lion’s logo seemed just as knowing.

“First time?” 

“First time I can feel it with my hand, yeah.” 

He looked you over one last time, cautiously removing his hand from your elbow and looking out onto the ice before blowing his whistle. 

“Gather ‘round.” He barked, and though Albus looked confused, he allowed the team to head to the bench. 

“Did ya miss us, Moody?” Sirius sing-songed as he made his way over, James laughing and Remus rolling his eyes in response. 

“The only time I get any peace is when the lot of you fuck off.” Moody barked back, but his face stayed soft. “Your baby’s kicking.” 

Sirius’ teasing smirk fell quickly as he whipped his head to you, James nearly fell over in his haste to make it to you and Remus quickly skated around the clump of bodies to join him; all three of them leaning against the boards in front of you.

“You didn’t have to stop practice for this…” You chided Moody gently, but it seemed that Sirus, James, and Remus weren’t the only one’s excited about it. 

“Oh my god! Can I feel!?” Fenwick called, earning him an elbow in the side from Remus. 

“Not before us? What the fuck…” Sirius mumbled, keeping his eyes on your stomach as if he could see it. 

“Well hurry up then! You’ve got a line behind you.” Grönvall hollered then.

“Goalie first; is rule.” Krum muttered as he placed himself in front of both Fenwick and Grönvall, though politely stayed behind the three boys who all tucked one glove under their opposite arm and held their hands out to you. 

The practice arena fell quiet as the entire team held their breath, and you felt sort of horrified at the sudden pressure to perform.

“This will be so embarrassing if it doesn’t happen again.” You admitted quietly, suddenly very embarrassed to have interrupted practice.

Remus made a humming sound in dissent as he brushed his thumb over your belly, and then it happened.

“Holy shit!” James cheered, Sirius’ head snapping up to beam a smile at you.

“Did you feel that!?” Sirius asked no one in particular, but you, James, and Remus all confirmed that you did.

“Okay great! Next!” Dearborn called from behind Grönvall, and that’s how you ended up spending the rest of the practice with various hands on your stomach at any given moment.

[wolvesandshine]

I need more jock! regulus fics like he was also an athlete okay and he’s a black so he never does things in halves. I need regulus being buff or if not at the very least having the biggest sleeper build of all time. I need him to appear all calm and collected until his favourite quidditch team/football team is on then he goes crazy - he yells and screams and has zero filter. I need him to do workouts at home cause wdym he’s going to slack in the holidays he’s a black - just jock regulus guys

[antsrust]

Hockey Player!James x Figure Skater!Regulus

These took me so long but I absolutely love how they turned out. I have a whole fic about them planned out in my head but I cannot be bothered to actually write it lol

[pretty-little-mind33]

Ice Hockey James Potter x fem!reader

Summary: You wait for your boyfriend after his game — In the same universe as Suburban Legends

Genre: Fluff <3

Warnings: muggle au, college au, swearing

JAMES POTTER MASTERLIST

You stand in the lobby of the rink, your arms are crossed across your chest and you're cursing yourself for only wearing his jersey instead of something warmer. Still, you smile. How can you mind when you can remember how happy James looked when saw you in the stands?

You pace around, waiting another few minutes until you start to become impatient. All his teammates have left the rink, which is something you know because you've counted each of their high-fives.

You have only been dating James Potter for a month now, but his teammates act like they've already taken you in as one of their own. 

"I didn't think you'd wait for me this long." you hear him. His voice is a little hoarse and he's rotating his shoulder around as he grimaces.

"Is your arm okay?" you ask, standing up and meeting him in the middle of the lobby. He was shoved pretty hard into the plexiglass and you look up at him, concerned. 

His lips curl into a little smirk, "Worried about me, Y/l/n?" He whispers and leans in close.

"As your girlfriend, I feel like if I wasn't worried then we'd have a problem," you chuckle and roll your eyes at his insistence to continue calling you by your last name. He says it's a habit but you're convinced he just likes to see you flustered.

"Come on I'm starving," you take his hand and try to lead him towards the door. 

"Shit," James groans, "I forgot my gloves in the locker room," 

You drop his hand and turn around, crossing your arms. "Are you seriously making me wait for you longer than I already have?" 

He shakes his head with a smile, "No. You're coming with me this time." It's his turn to take your hand and he practically pulls you to the locker rooms. 

"Jamie, slow down," you say.

Suddenly, you're pressed against the wall of the empty hallway as James's arms cage around your head. His hockey bag had fallen onto the ground and he leans his head downwards so that you can look into his eyes. His eyes shine and he's giving you the most obvious, "I wanna to kiss you," pout. 

"What are you doing?" you feign coy behind a laugh as he slides his hands down to the side of your head and cups your cheeks in his hands. He's so close it's incredibly intoxicating.

"Kissing you?"

You smile, nodding, and he leans down to kiss along your neck. His hips press into mine and you think I've finally lost all sensibility. "You drive me insane — you and my fucking jersey," he whispers as his kisses move upwards and his knuckles skim the fabric of his jersey near your breasts.

"You're the one who wanted me have it."

"Yeah, to wear around your dorm—not during my games," he says and his hands climb up the wall again as you look up at him, "If your plan is to distract me when I'm supposed to be paying attention to the game, you should know it's working more than it should…"

You grin and stare at him with wide eyes. You make sure to chew on your lower lip so that you're doing exactly what you know turns him on. "Seems like a misunderstood then," you say, "Still, I didn't think you would have a problem with everyone knowing I'm yours, James." 

Something snaps inside him and that's when he kisses you. 

It's raw and rough, but the way his strong arms wrap around you waist to pull you closer is gentle and you melt into his arms. Wantonly, you run your hand through his hair. The dark brown locks are slightly messy from being under his helmet and when James feels me pull on them, his breath jumps in his throat,

"Everyone already knows you're mine." He whispers and then continues to kiss you.

You pull him even closer and with his good arm, he wraps one of my legs around his hip. You're both so engrossed in our activity you, unfortunately, don't hear footsteps until, James's coach clears his throat,

James stops kissing you and carefully lowers your leg onto the ground. He hides you behind him as you turn around, his cheeks crimson from embarrassment, as you attempt to calm your internal panic. 

"Hey," James says, weirdly casual.

"Rink is closing, Potter. Go home." His coach says and you peek at him from behind James's shoulder. He sees me and sighs, "You too, Y/n."

"Will do, sir." James says. Quickly, he lifts his bag back onto his shoulder and holds your hand. You mumble a small, "sorry" as you walk by his coach but you don't think he hears you considering you can't even bear to look at him. 

Once you're back in the lobby, you bury your head in your hands, "I'm so embarrassed," you groan. James laughs and rubs your shoulders.

You look up at him and frown, "This really isn't funny."  

"Coach doesn't care. I promise." James reassures you.

"Why? Is this not the first time he's caught you kissing someone here?" you ask, sounding more jealous than intended.

James's expression softens and, holding your hips, he pulls you close enough to kiss your forehead, "How many times to I have to promise you I'm not, and have never been, a player?" 

You nod, smiling guiltily, "Yeah, I know. I shouldn't have asked that, I'm sorry."

"Water under the bridge, Y/l/n," James jokes and kisses your temple. He swings his arm around your shoulder, "I remember someone said they were hungry, shall we eat now?" 

"Wait, what about your gloves?"

James grins wolfishly. "Oh, those are in my bag, I just wanted to make out with you."

tags: @mischievousmoony, @sayitlikethecheese, @longlivedelusion, @fangirl-swagg (pretending like i didn't just forget this until now!!)

[kquil]

JAMES POTTER | NO MORE HOCKEY PLAYERS!

REQUEST. : I think this might be too vague but can I request IceHockey!James x Reader angst with fluffy ending. I'm acc in love with the way you write him 🤍🤍 ⏤requested by anon

LENGTH : 1.9k

TAGS : modern au ; muggle au ; ice hockey player james potter ; enemies to lovers? but not really? ; enemies by association to lovers? ; protective james potter ; precious reader ; oc!andrew ; reader in a bad relationship ; james being the knight in shining hockey gear ; angst with fluff ending

WARNINGS : toxic relationship ; mentions of mistreatment in a relationship

You knew what was coming. It was something you were used to seeing, to dealing with in the two years you’ve been dating Andrew. As captain of the Ice Hockey team at Imperial College London and playing the Right-Wing Forward position, he was oftentimes compared to his more prominent, more celebrated counterpart, James Potter. 

James Potter was the Ice Hockey captain of his team at UCL and also played the Right-Wing Forward position. Through this similarity, they were often compared and Andrew was beyond irritated by the fact. Irritated and fed up. James never appeared to mind the comparisons, however. In fact, he took it in stride because, in his eyes, the results of a fair game will put the constant equating to rest. 

Andrew was passionate about the sport, he really was, his position as Captain was evidence of that dedication, however the constant comparisons in his ear made him highly aggressive on top of his already present anger issues. It wasn’t like this in the beginning, he was once very sweet and caring towards you, aware of your needs and was as much of a best friend as he was your boyfriend. Yes, you weren’t exempt from the occasional disagreement or shouting competition but it’s been so much worse as of late. 

Just a couple of months ago, he lost a game to James’ team and finally snapped to the point that he managed to make the usually grinning and charming James Potter flush red with anger and commenced a screaming match that inaugurated an infamous rivalry between the two. That one win against him was also the tipping point for all the whispers comparing the two to sharply peak in favour of James. Now, there was always an undertone of James being viewed as the better one of the two. More charismatic, more diligent, more empathetic, more resilient, more consistent, more respectable… more handsome. All of which fanned the flames of your boyfriend’s anger until it reached dangerous levels. 

The matches against them were, now, much more exhilarating but also much more aggressive. It frightened you the first time you saw them play against each other after that horrific encounter the previous game. This wasn’t a good display of sportsmanship. They were like two lions going after each other’s throats, pushing and shoving and colliding at top speeds, baring their teeth menacingly but neither side conceding defeat – they refused to surrender; one had to fall for the other to rise. It was horrifying to witness. You worried for Andrew but you also worried for James. They were both equal in brawn and stature so anything could happen to either side and they weren’t the least bit shy in making their belligerent intentions known. Bruises and sore limbs were expected from the sport but you feared that something more serious could be anticipated in the conflict between the two. 

Your heart was almost ready to burst out of your chest when each game began and ended. It didn’t help that you were a frequent witness to Andrew’s harsh criticism towards his own team. Due to his frustrations and boiling anger, he demanded more of himself and, by extension, demanded more of his teammates as well. Many times, you tried to remind him of the fact that he wasn’t going about disciplining or encouraging his team in the right way. A familiar confrontation once became a huge fight that his teammates had to get in the middle of, worried for you, who they had come to think of as part of their own and, vice versa. Gradually, his support from the team dwindled, which meant that, during his combative encounters with James in the rink, he was slowly being left on his own with no one to assist him. He was playing at a higher risk each game and it hurt you to watch. Your love might have dwindled during Andrew’s self-destructive tirade but that didn’t mean you didn’t care for his well-being. 

The result was inevitable. Owing to the lack of support from his own teammates and having to counter James’ antagonistic plays by himself, Andrew’s anger and jealousy grew and grew. It was a slap to the face when, at every re-match, his self-sabotaging behaviour led to James and his team’s victory. It was predictable, even for you, but you supported Andrew through it all. 

At the end of the match, Andrew sulked in the locker rooms while the rest of the team hurried away, disgruntled by their captain’s pathetic plays, selfish agenda and mistreatment towards them when pinning all the blame for their loss solely on their lack of collaboration when, truly, he was the only one to blame.

“It’ll be okay, Andy–” 

“Shut up!” his roaring shout bounced off the walls of the empty locker room. His voice echoed with mourning, betrayal and burning hot rage. It made your shoulders tense from the rising tension. 

“Andrew, the way you’re acting i-it isn’t right–!” you tried to reason with him despite his hulking form and much larger frame intimidating you. He didn’t even have to look into your eyes for a shiver to run down your spine; the slamming of his locker door, the throwing of his clothes and the reckless handling of his equipment was enough to make you flinch each time. 

“YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO TELL ME WHAT’S RIGHT OR WRONG!” he argues through clenched teeth, pushing the locker room doors open and letting it swing back, almost hitting you as you scurry up behind him. 

“Well, you should, at least, try!” In a moment of bravery, you puff out your chest and glare at him, your eyes shining with thinly disguised disappointment and fear. He wasn’t like the Andrew you knew at all… this horrible, violent person was nothing like the Andrew you fell in love with two years ago, “I know you can be a great captain but you’re running yourself and your own team into the ground! Learn to put your ego aside for once!” 

“WHY YOU!-- WHO GAVE YOU THE RIGHT TO LECTURE ME?!” his large hand raises and comes swinging down. It’s too late to react, you can only pinch your eyes closed and wait for the impact to come with clenched teeth. 

“WHAT RIGHT DO YOU HAVE TO HIT HER?!” 

The hit never came. Instead, your eyes snap open to stare in shock at James Potter gripping the wrist of your boyfriend and pushing him away as he tucks you behind him. Too shocked at the situation and the sudden appearance of your boyfriend’s counterpart, you can’t help but just gape at the situation. 

No no no! This isn’t meant to happen! You should have left the argument in the locker room! 

“She’s my girlfriend! Dipshit!” Andrew snarls and tries to reach for you again but James steps in the way, blocking your view. He’s a solid mountain between you and your irate boyfriend. For the first time in a long time, you felt safe. 

“That gives you even less of a right, not that you had any right to hit anyone to begin with,” James pants lightly, his heightened anger making him feel as though he’s run a mile, “If she’s your girl, you should treat her better! Acting like this after a loss is pathetic but pinning it onto your lady is disgusting!” James can handle rough play on the rink because he’s trained for it and he’s grown the thick skin to endure all kinds of impacts. But, when he sees violence like this outside the rink, it’s beyond infuriating, it makes him see red, it makes him want to throw all manner of good will out the window and go charging in like a stubborn bull.

“Fuck! Off!” Andrew shoves him away and grabs your upper arm, tugging you away without any regard for the force in his grip. It happened much too quickly that you couldn’t comprehend everything until you felt a stinging pain bloom in your arm under his grip. 

“Ow!… Andrew, stop, please! You’re hurting me!”

“I don’t care! Hurry! Up!” he gives another aggressive tug and you squeal from the pain, willing yourself to suppress it so as to not anger him further. But your cry of hurt was enough to set off an unbelievable chain reaction.

There was a dull but harsh THUMP as James’ clenched fist collides with Andrew’s face, sending him sprawling as two gentle hands come up to your shoulders and gently pull you away from the scene. Those same two hands turn you around and carefully move down to press against your lower back, acting as a guide to lead you a safe distance away. The girl introduces herself as Alice, the girlfriend of Frank, who was the goalie of the UCL team. She leads you with a sympathetic smile past the rest of the James’ teammates, who face forward and grit their teeth at what they were just the witnesses to, some even stepping forward. Whether they wanted to join in or not, you didn’t find out but one was tall with mousy brown hair and the other had dark black hair against pale paper skin and grey eyes – the left defence and the centre of the UCL team. 

“You’re okay…” Alice whispers softly, hurrying you along as the sound of punches begin to echo through the hallway, “I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” 

As tears slip past your lash line, a shaky whimper escapes your bitten lips and you accept her comfort with a small nod.

Suffice to say, you and Andrew broke up. And for good reason. Many people couldn’t even fathom that someone as soft-hearted and sweet as you would ever give someone like Andrew the time of day when you deserved so much more. What they don’t understand is that he was never like that when you first met… but, you suppose, he finally showed his true colours. But thanks to that, you’ve sworn off dating hockey players ever again! 

“Oh!” a happy acknowledgement sounds and draws your eyes up to see a handsome, boyish grin beaming down at you, “It’s you!” His freshly washed locks drip with water and he moves to close the locker room door behind him when his words bring the attention of curious eyes from the rest of his team, all peaking a glimpse of you around his frame.

“Yeah…” you smile softly, nerves shaking anxiously as your hands clasp together for some stability, “sorry for suddenly showing up,”

“It’s alright,” James’ beaming smile doesn’t fade the slightest bit as his eyes shine with relief, “I’m just glad you’re looking okay,”

“Yeah, all thanks to you,” the compliment makes him flush bashfully as a large hand comes up to rub the back of his neck. For a guy with a bear-like frame, he pulls off the adorable puppy look pretty well.

“Did you watch the game?” he hurries to change the topic and instead of answering, you hold up a cutely wrapped batch of homemade cookies. Andrew was once the only person who had exclusive access to your home baked goodies but he lost that privilege a long time ago. It’s time to associate your baking with something (someone) more positive and deserving. 

“Wow! Thanks!” James eyes your offer with wide eyes and was already drooling from the sugary scent in the air, seducing him into taking it and having a bite. You smile at his moans of gratification and allow his free flowing compliments to boost your confidence, “will you be coming to our next game?” he suddenly asks, catching you off guard. 

“Uhh..--”

“Please come,” his eyes plead with you but when you don’t answer, he bargains, “I’ll win it for you,” 

No more hockey players be damned.

A/N : i love writing hockey player james potter too~ he's just so dreamy! ahhhhh! it's probably one of my favourite aus of james potter! (,,o // o,,) thank you so much for the request, anon-darling! im so sorry for taking so long, i hope you enjoy the read!

NAVI.

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[ameliora-j]

ur the only person i trust who can give me a filthy but soft smut of james potter fucking y/n in his ice hockey jersey

i’m honored 🥹

𐐪𐑂 it’s twisted tuesday! send in ur requests ᵕ̈

content: soft dom!james, cnc, hockey player!james, pr manager!girlfriend!reader, humiliation, degradation, oral (f!receiving), daddy kink, jamie talking to ur pussy, impact play, unprotected piv, creampie, THIS IS AN 18+ BLOG MDNI

“james…” you groan, trying to push him away as he has you pressed up against your desk in your office. “cut it out!” you groan as he kisses down your neck.

“oh baby” james chuckles, shaking his head. james towers over you, and his ice hockey jersey are purposefully tailored to be longer and bigger on him so that they can fit over all his gear—thus causing every single one of his jerseys to be a dress on you. this—accompanied by a pair of thigh high boots—was your signature game day look. “you’re wearing the jersey, you’re asking to be split open on my cock and you know it” he chuckles lowly, nipping at your ear.

you whine, shaking your head as you push him back once more. “stop james. i’m serious, i’m not fucking you” you huff softly.

“uh huh baby… whatever you say” he murmurs, sinking to his knees and pushing your legs apart. he pushes his jersey up over your hips and tuts his tongue, shaking his head softly. “and look at that… you don’t wanna fuck but this little cunt is nice and uncovered for me” he hums, noting that you’d foregone panties—and james knew you expected this.

“my poor girl’s gonna be so cold on that ice tonight” he pouts softly, shaking his head as he rubs a thumb over your slit.

“james!” you squeak. “i’ll be fine” you shake your head.

“hush baby, do your work. ‘m talking to my girl” he chuckles softly. your eyes widen and heat rises immediately to your face as you realize james is speaking to your pussy, not you. “‘s okay pretty princess… i’ll make sure you keep warm tonight” he whispers before leaning in and pressing a kiss to your little clit.

he hums softly, his eyes rolling a bit at the taste before he wraps his mouth around your cunt, wiggling his tongue through your sticky folds. “that’s right princess, knew you wanted daddy” he whispers to your cunt, leaning back and spitting on your pulsing hole. “‘s okay… daddy’s here. gonna clean you up baby. make it all better” he hums to your pussy before diving back in.

“j-james… james!” you moan loudly, reaching back and pushing his head closer to your needy cunt. he chuckles against you, slapping your ass.

“i knew you’d come around” he mumbles, standing and beginning to undo his pants.

“n-no… no james i’m not fucking you! i’m trying to tell you we need to go” you whine, shaking your head insistently.

“yeah princess, i hear you” he nods, running his cock through your slit a few times. “there’s my girl” he groans as he feels your wetness soaking his cock. “it’s okay, i’ll give it to you… no need to cry” he chuckles lowly as your pussy drips down onto his cock.

he groans lowly as he slowly pushes into your cunt, practically whining as he bottoms out. “oh you’re so tight” he breathes, holding your hips.

“j-james… jamie stop” you whine as he begins to fuck you. his pace is slow but intentional, his hips angled to hit your gspot head on each time he slams his cock back into you.

“oh baby, you’re begging me to stop but my princess is begging to cum” he murmurs, gently rubbing your clit as he fucks you slow and hard. “it’s okay pretty girl… if you want daddy to stop all you have to do is cum” he taunts, holding you close to him as he fucks you slowly.

you whine, shaking your head as it falls back against his shoulder. “your pussy is crying for me… squeezing around me. oh baby she wants to cum so bad” he mocks, beginning to rub your clit faster. he keeps his pace slow, but pounds your gspot mercilessly as you cry out his name along with profanities.

“daddy!” you whine as you gaze at him with wide, glossy eyes.

“oh there’s my pretty princess” he hums softly, smiling lovingly at you as he leans in and gives you a kiss. you whimper softly, meeting his thrusts as you kiss him back. “‘s my good girl. take my cock so well” he mumbles, kissing across your shoulders.

“daddy… i wanna cum” you whimper, your eyes rolling as you clench around him.

“i know baby… i know daddy’s right there” he mumbles. “why don’t you milk my cock baby?” he hums, kissing your cheek. “cum for me… squeeze daddy’s cum from that big cock” he groans lowly.

you let out a long, loud moan, your head falling back against his shoulder as you cream on james’ cock. he sucks in air through his teeth, fucking you through your orgasm as his hips begin to stutter until he paints your walls with his cum. “what do you say baby?” he mocks as he rides out his orgasm, fucking you full of his cum.

“thank you, daddy” you moan quietly, smiling lazily at him.

[fourmoony]

𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐧

james potter x f!reader | modern!hockey au

cw: injury, language, use of pain medication (gas and air), exes reconciliation

summary - James is there for ex!reader when she has an accident on the ice.

2.8k

Took a break from writing ch3 of FOW to write this lil ficcy.

---

The arena goes silent the minute the programme music starts, the lights a deep blue, the music soft and slow. He’s on the Gryffindor bench, helmet at his feet, bottle half empty and hanging limply from his hands – they’re cold now they’re out of his gloves. The rest of the team has eyes on the tunnel, the whole arena does, and when James catches sight of you, he understands why, would singlehandedly go into the stands and force anyone who wasn’t paying enough attention to just – look.

Look at the way you skate so softly, like every movement comes straight from your soul, the way your dress glitters under the light, the way it makes your skin glow. He thinks you’re ethereal, honestly. He always has. But he’s not exactly allowed to think that, anymore, is he?

You skid to a stop in the middle of the ice, getting into position. Remus places a supportive hand on James’ shoulder, gives his friend an understanding look. Everything you do is always so precise, so fluid and beautiful. The way you skate is pure elegance, unlike hockey, which is rough and fast, harsh movements and even harsher words. The music fades out, changes to the start of a song James has never seen you skate to, before. But then, he supposes – he hasn’t seen you skate in four months. He hasn’t watched you try, and try, fall, and try, and fall again until you get a new move, a new routine, a sense of achievement.

He hasn’t sat on the bleachers freezing his arse off after practice just to be in your presence, or took you to eat, after. He hasn’t made sure you’re eating, sleeping, taking time to look after and care for yourself, and not just your talent.

You look different. Still beautiful, still the girl James fell in love with. But you look different. He can’t pinpoint it, really. There’s just a difference in the way you look straight at the empty penalty box as you wait for your cue that doesn’t sit right in James’ chest. It’s clunky and a little painful, a broken promise of something. You’re not looking at him. Whenever you skate at Hogwarts Arena – you look for James. Whether he’s playing or in the crowd. A nod from him, and you’re off like a shot into whatever performance your coach has chosen. Now, though, you’re staring blankly at the penalty box, not James.

He gets it, he does. It’s over. Has been for a while. But he wishes you’d look over, knows how nervous you get, wants to give you a reassuring smile. James sees the way your knees wobble as you kick off, floating across the ice like you could be flying.

You make it look so effortless, skating. You look weightless as you twist and turn into jumps James could never imagine being able to pull off – and he’s been skating since he could walk. He admires the steady movements, the emotion on your face as you glide, and spin, and jump, and the emotion on your face as the music follows the highs and lows of your routine. You’re so focussed you don’t seem to notice how the pain, the heartache of the song, the weight of the routine, bleeds from you.

It’s beautiful, in a way.

You’re beautiful in every way.

James feels the weight of watching you crushing him like a building sitting on his chest. He’s been slammed into the boards eight times in the first two quarters – not once had it hurt as much as watching you out there, so lovely, so gentle, so sad, so close but so fucking far. James thinks perhaps Remus’ hand on his shoulder is to keep him in place, for if it wasn’t there, he’d be out on the ice following you, right now. Heart in his hand, begging you to take it, no matter what it costs you both.

He’s always been selfish with love. He knows that, now. He does.

James should see it coming a mile off. He knows everything about you, the way you skate. He has every breath change, every wobble, every movement you make on the ice memorised. So, when you jump off with your left pick instead of your right – James should know what’s about to happen. You spin once, and James realises, too late, that jumping with the wrong foot has thrown you off. You’re on the ice in less than a second, the music cuts off, the crowd and both teams make gasping noises, murmured concerns. James doesn’t hear any of it.

All he can hear is the ice shattering scream you let out.

You don’t get up. James waits several seconds, and you don’t get up. Remus shoves him, Sirius pulls open the board door and James, in only his under armour and protective trousers, skates loosened for the break, skates to you as fast as he can. There’s cheering from the crowd when James comes flying out of the team box, but James can’t hear any of it over the sounds you’re making.

He’s seen you fall hundreds of times. He’s seen you pull muscles and break ribs, bruise tail bones, sprain ankles and he has never heard you make noise like this in his life. The medics haven’t arrived yet, James skids to a stop, drops to his knees. You don’t look up, face tilted towards the ice – a media training stunt so the crowd can’t see how much pain you’re actually in. But he can tell your eyes are screwed shut, fists clenched so tight he’s concerned you might break your wrists.

He says your name, soft, gentle, and it sounds foreign coming out of his mouth.

You take a shuddering breath, head tilting in the cage your arms have made for it just slightly. Your eyes are filled with so much fear that James finds it hard to breathe, tears spilling out and onto your red cheeks, “My hip. My hip, Jamie, my hip.”

You sound terrified, broken, in agonising pain. James shouts for a medic, loud enough that he thinks the whole arena can hear. There’s refs and managers, your skating coach, all on the ice when the medics come running. James feels as though he could throttle every last one for taking so long. You’re crying, curled in on yourself, and James knows better than to touch you, like this. It makes the pain worse, makes you feel like you’re suffocating. And he thinks, maybe, that you just don’t want him to touch you, regardless, anyway.

The medics slide the board under you, roll you onto your back and the scream of agony you let out breaks James. He’s crying, and you reach for his hand, squeeze it so tight he feels his bones rub together.

“Potter!” Moody, his coach, yells after him when he starts to follow the medics off the ice with you.

“I’m not leaving her.” James doesn’t leave room for negotiation, doesn’t want Moody to challenge him on this because he might do something stupid and lose his place in the league all together.

His coach sighs, nods, and James is off like a shot. He catches up with you in the tunnel, headed straight for the Gryffindor PT room. You’re still sobbing, awful, throaty cries that are etching their way around James’ ribs, threatening to break and scratch and pull at them. It’s a flurry of noise and shouting and protests from you whenever someone comes close to touching your hip. It’s chaos.

James isn’t really all that sure if you’ve fully registered that he’s there, honestly, or if you’re in so much pain you don’t have it in you to argue over his presence. The medic gives James a look, a rather pointed one, when you refuse for the millionth time to let anyone touch your hip. He isn’t sure what he’s supposed to do. You’re not his girlfriend, anymore. You’re not his, you don’t love him. He can’t comfort you the way he used to.

“Jamie,” You’re breathless, face red and blotchy, hand gripping his, looking up at him with fear, “Don’t let them. It hurts.”

And James feels like he’s drowning.

“Hey,” He gets close to your face, the thumb of his free hand swiping away the tears from your eyes, “They can’t help you if you don’t let them see what’s wrong.”

“It hurts.”

“I know,” He soothes, pushing strands of hair from your forehead, “But it’s gonna hurt a lot longer if you don’t let them fix it.”

You seem to consider, hiccupping breaths filling the silence. The medic makes an impatient sound and James throws him a cutting look.

“Short term pain, long term gain.” James murmurs into the skin of your forehead. It's a joke saying - something you used to say rather bitterly when you hurt yourself learning a new stunt.

You don’t flinch, don’t pull away or protest when he presses his lips to the heated skin. It provides the distraction the medics need to cut the seam of your dress and reveal the skin of your hip. A junior medic passes you a nozzle, wheels a tank to the side of the table you’re on, and passes you it, “Gas and air. You’re going to need it.”

James wishes he could have some, too.

The medics work, you almost chew through the air nozzle when they try to push your hip back into place, and eventually, James has to murmur panicked and overly loud sweet nothings into your ear over the gut wrenching cries you let out when the medic yanks and then pushes your hip right back into place.

The game is long since over. Gryffindor won.

You’re limp on the table, waiting for the crowd to leave before the ambulance can make it to the player exit. James sits, watches you drift in and out of consciousness, begs his heart to return to normal because you’re not in pain anymore, not in danger. You’re here. In front of him. Okay.

Sirius appears a little after the game, freshly showered and in his suit.

“She okay?” He asks, hands stuffed into his suit trouser pockets.

You and Sirius are close. Still. James doesn’t hold it against either of you. You’ve both been such an intracule part of each other’s lives that he’d be evil for expecting that to come to an end just because you and James didn’t work out. You both deserve better than his jealousy.

“Dislocated her hip. They think she’s torn some ligaments; need to wait on the hospital scans to be sure.” James replies, eyes roving over your face.

You look so peaceful, asleep. So free of pain, of the fear and agony you’d been in only half an hour ago. His heart aches. He wants to coddle you, assure you you’ll be okay. He knows he can’t.

Sirius nods, “She’ll skate again? Or no?”

The medic hadn’t seemed hopeful. James doesn’t know who’s going to have the job of telling you, but he’s praying for them. You won’t take this news lightly, “Not at the level she’s at now.”

He watches the concern wash over Sirius. They both know what it’s like to skate. Sure, hockey and figure skating are different – but the mindset is often the same. James can’t imagine being told he couldn’t skate. It’s part of him – his soul. As it is, yours.

“You okay?”

James shakes his head, “No. I can’t stop hearing her. That scream, Padfoot - It hollowed me out.”

Sirius nods, like he understands. Perhaps he does, in some way. He heard it, too. “She’s okay. For now. You going in the ambulance?”

“I don’t think she’d appreciate that.”

“I’ll wait for you in the car, then.” Sirius leaves without another word but offers James an understanding look. He gets it. He knows what it’s like for love to hurt. He and Remus spent years hurting each other for no good reason.

The room is quiet when Sirius goes. Just the steady sounds of your breathing, the beeping of your monitor. James allows himself to press his palm to your cheek one last time. He wills himself to stand up, to leave. He can’t manage it. He doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to walk away from you. Not like this.

“Stay. Please.”

You’re awake. He’s not sure how long you’ve been awake, but he has a feeling you heard his conversation with Sirius. His heart feels like it’s been kick started, like for the first time since you hit the ice, he can breathe.

“I’m not going anywhere.” He promises, thumb rubbing at your neck, hand cupping your jaw.

You nod, swallow, “I won’t skate again, will I?”

“You don’t know that.”

A noise akin to a scoff escapes your lips, which wobble as you speak, “Everyone knows how these injuries end, Jamie. I’ll be a coach, at best.”

He wishes he could tell you that you might make a full recovery, that you’ll go back to being the ethereal, elegant skater you’ve been since he met you all those years ago. He’s never lied to you before, though, so he won’t start now. You both know the statistics, the stories, how it goes. Rehab for six months, and if you’re lucky, you’ll skate in a straight line again.

“I’m so, so, sorry.” He doesn’t know what else to say.

You shush him, a fresh set of tears springing to your eyes, “I should’ve looked for you. I should’ve, I knew I should’ve, but I thought if I did, I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from coming to you. From coming to tell you that I was sorry, that I was wrong, I should’ve…”

James takes his turn shushing you as the quiet sobs rack your body. You used to chide him for his superstitions, it breaks his heart that you think breaking one caused this. He leans over, lips to the skin of your forehead, pressing over and over as though it might make the weight of his love settle into your brain, “No. Please don’t do that, please. Don’t blame yourself. These things happen. Accidents, they happen, no one is a perfect skater, okay?”

“But it’s my fault we broke up.”

You sound so broken, so tired. James doesn’t know what to say, isn't sure what relevance that has to this, so he says nothing.

Time passes, the medics return, bring James his joggies and hoodie and his shoes. He changes quickly, comes in the ambulance to the hospital.

He waits with you, holds your hand, gives you as much reassurance as he can. The doctor tells you three hours later that you’ll never skate at the same level again, and James holds you. He’s careful not to crush you when he climbs into the hospital bed, and he holds you until there’s no more tears left for you to cry. He sits with you in the silence, is patient when you get angry, frustrated, blame yourself and the world, even him, and he’s there. He stays. He doesn’t allow you to push him away this time.

The sun creeps up over the trees, cuts through the fluorescent hospital lighting and casts its golden glow on you, and James remembers.

He remembers all the time away from the rink, the beach, his parent’s summer house, road trips, theme parks, early mornings in his apartment, coffees in the car after practice. He remembers that there, once, had been more to your relationship than skating. It became habit, after a while. Skate, fight, train, skate, fight, train. It got tiring. It got old, and it drove a wedge between you both.

But he remembers how freely you once loved each other, the person you are, not the way you skate. Your soul, bright and luminous, off the ice. You’re so much more than a pair of skates and a beautiful routine. You’re ethereal all on your own.

You wake not long after, the pain medication worn off and reality starting to set in.

If you’re surprised to find James in your hospital bed with you, you don’t show it. You offer him a gentle smile. A kind smile. A hopeful smile. He kisses the crown of your head, nestles as close as your hip will allow. You make a grateful humming noise.

"I'll survive this."

James notes that you don't sound all that sure. But he knows you will. He squeezes you gently, "You will."

"And you'll be there? I know it's selfish of me to ask..."

"I'm not going anywhere. Promise." James' thumb pulls your lip from where it's worrying between your teeth, and you look so soft, so scared. So. Lovely.

You seem happy with that answer, cheek rubbing happily against his shoulder, "We'll work it out."

"We will."

[amiableness]

Hockey!James Potter x Lupin!Reader ❆ 847 words | thank you to @pizzaapeteer & @moonpascal for reading! you’re both angels <3

series masterlist ; main masterlist

The sharp scrape of skates cutting through the ice and the booming commands of the coach blend with the hollers and laughter of the players. It’s chaotic, but years of attending practice has taught you to tune it out, your sole focus on your psychology homework. Well it should be, instead your eyes keep drifting up to number seven—James Potter, your brother’s best friend.

They’re just warming up, and yet you can’t seem to pull your eyes away from him.

Watching James on the ice was nothing short of mesmerizing. It baffled you how he managed to track the puck so effortlessly, his movements sharp and precise—he was almost as fast as the damn thing. You’d never admit it to anyone, but during games, you could hardly take your eyes off of him. The way he raked his fingers through his damp curls, his chest rising and falling as he hauled himself onto the bench—it was addicting. And the fights. Seeing James Potter rough and unyielding stirred something in you that you didn’t want to analyze. Every time he ended up in the penalty box, his chest still heaving, curses tumbling from his lips, you found yourself shifting in your seat, heat creeping up your neck. 

With a reluctant sigh, you tear your gaze away, knowing full well that if you didn’t stop, James would catch you—and you’d never hear the end of it.

With your legs propped up, feet resting on the chair in front of you, you highlight your psychology textbook, trying to focus. You're falling behind, and you can't help but feel that your lingering gaze on James isn't exactly helping.

Just as you’re getting into the flow, a sharp thwack against the clear barrier jolts you from your thoughts. You glance up to find your brother’s best friend standing on the other side, his stick in hand as he taps it against the barrier. Sitting so close to the rink, he’s only a few feet away, his presence impossible to ignore. You know he should be warming up with the rest of the team, but like clockwork, every practice, he manages to find you first.

“I missed you last Wednesday.” James calls out, flashing you that familiar, irresistible grin—the one that always seems to dare you to react. As usual, you send him an indifferent glance. It’s a game the two of you have been playing since the day you met four years ago: James flirts with shameless persistence, and you brush him off like it’s nothing. But deep down, you can’t help the secret thrill that warms your chest every time he tries. 

“I had somewhere to be.” Your tone is disinterested, but there's an undeniable tug in your stomach at the thought of him being disappointed by your absence.

“If you tell me you went on a date, you’ll break my heart.” He says it with that trademark cocky grin, running a hand through his damp hair and for a moment, you catch yourself staring—fighting the thought of how effortlessly good he looks and how badly you want to tug on those curls.

You didn’t have a date, and you weren’t at practice because you had to study for an exam. But you’re not about to admit that the real reason you haven’t been productive with your studying these past couple of months is because you’ve been too busy watching him play.

“Not like you don’t have a shortage of girls to comfort you.” You glance back down at your textbook, willing yourself to focus—looks like tonight will be spent finishing this up, after all.

“I can’t believe you think I’d want any other girl besides you, angel.” Your stomach flips, and your eyes snap to James, surprised by the sudden rush of heat. You quickly clear your throat, but he’s already grinning, clearly pleased with the faint flush he’s managed to pull from you. There’s my girl, he thinks, the smug satisfaction evident in his gaze.

“Potter!” Coach calls sharply, and your gaze flicks over to the displeased figure standing on the other side of the rink, eyes fixed firmly on James. “Get your ass back on the ice!”  

James doesn’t move, his eyes still locked on you. You raise an eyebrow, pointing your pink highlighter towards the ice. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”  

“Promise you’ll wait to talk to me after?”  

You roll your eyes, struggling to suppress the tug at the corner of your lips by biting down on your lower lip. “You know I’ll be here. I have to wait for Remus anyway.”  

“Just promise me, angel.” His tone softens, that same familiar charm slipping back into his voice.  

You sigh, trying to fight the way your heart skips a beat. “I promise.”  

James flashes you a wide grin before skating off, and Coach shakes his head disapprovingly, muttering something under his breath. You try to look away, but your gaze lingers on James a moment longer than you'd like, the flicker of embarrassment creeping in as you realize just how long you’ve been watching him.

next blurb <3

please please please consider reblogging and/or commenting. it keeps me motivated to continue writing and reblogging spreads my work 🤍

[likeprongstostars]

i finally colored it

the urge to put a blunt object in james hands and let him bash zombies heads with it won

[moonstruckme]

helloooo, i have a request if its possible♡

since we got figure skater! Sirius..... Do you think we could get hockey player! James x figure skater! reader? Maybe they go to the same place but the place where they practice its kinda shitty so its literally kinda like an across the hallway situation where the hockey practice happens on one ice rink and when you leave you can walk thru the ice rink of the figure skaters that its on another section of the place IDK I'M NOT AN ARCHITECT SORRY

BUT THE POINT ITS, that one day James leaves practice later than usual and he's walking to get out but he heards his favorite song playing and he goes to see whats up because its his favorite song ever! and goes to the other ice rink and sees the reader practicing and inmediatly he has the biggest crush ever and its almost dreaming about a house and three kids with that cute girl

idk i think i explained myself like sht but hope you like the idea! cause i think it would be soo cute

Hi lovely, you explained yourself perfectly! Thanks for being so patient with me, I hope this is alright <3

hockey player!James x figure skater!reader ♡ 718 words

James’ entire body is pleasantly sore, and he’s very much looking forward to going home to a nice, hot shower. 

“Do you and Moony want to go get breakfast tomorrow morning?” he asks Sirius as they leave the locker room. The two of them had taken longer than usual changing out of their gear, Sirius filling him in on the absolute hell week Remus had at his new job. To hear Sirius talk about it, all the other professors are simply jealous of Remus. James is sure that’s partly true, but he’d bet they need less reason than that. Somehow, James had thought leaving school would mean emerging into a more mature world, but adults seem just as petty as teenagers. Maybe pancakes and a good, uplifting chat would do something to take the sting out of Remus’ first week and help prepare him for the next. 

Sirius cuts James a sideways look, gray eyes narrowed. “Breakfast at what time?” 

“I was thinking six, six thirty.” Sirius scoffs, and James grins. “Only joking. How’s eleven?” 

“Still too early,” Sirius grumbles, “but we’ll go.” 

James bobs his head, pleased to have a course of action for helping his friend. “Ask Moons where he feels like going, and just…” He hears a faint, familiar melody. “...just let me know.” 

“Sounds good.” Sirius pushes open the door, but James has stopped. He’s looking back towards the rink, intrigued. “Coming?” 

James waves him off. “In a bit. See you tomorrow.” 

Sirius makes an amused sound, not unused to James’ diversions, and goes. 

James follows the sound of his favorite song, unabashed about bopping his head to the beat as he approaches the rink. He knows figure skaters sometimes use the rink after his hockey practice has wrapped up, and he absolutely has to see who’s choreographed a routine to this. He comes to a stop near the edge of the bleachers, and watches through the tempered glass as one lone skater launches into a turn. 

This wouldn’t be the track James would have thought of for a figure skating routine, but frankly, you’re doing it justice. Your movements are springy and nimble as you glance across the ice, one complicated-looking move to the next to the next. It seems like both skates are never touching the ground for more than half a second. There’s a lot to be said, probably, about your skill, your technique, but James is a philistine. All he can think about is how pretty you look. 

You’re gorgeous. Stunning. Graceful in your movements and seraphim in your countenance. A wisp of hair has freed itself from the confines of the rest and whips about your face, but you don’t seem to notice it, your gaze steady and lips just slightly pursed in concentration. 

James would never tell his friends because they’d mock him to hell and back, but he does believe in love at first sight. Only under particular circumstances, though. The sight has to be good enough—meaning, he has to see some aspect of who that person is behind a pretty face. You certainly do have a pretty face, and you’re dancing to his favorite song, and James doesn’t understand how he could ever be expected to not be totally enamored with you after this one spectacular look. He worries that if you glance over, you’ll see him with giant cartoon hearts boinging out of his eyes on springs. 

The song ends, and you spin to a stop. James’ breathing stops, too, as your gaze lands on a point not ten feet to his right. He wonders if he’s being creepy. It’s not like this is a private rink, and James wouldn’t be weirded out if he spotted someone watching him running drills or something (actually, if it were you he’d be over the moon about it), but he’s been told not everyone feels like he does about that stuff. And though he hardly thinks of himself as intimidating, James is also a big guy. He wants to woo you, not spook you.

You skate to the edge of the rink to restart your music, and James slips out. He hears it blaring softly behind him, and he probably looks like a total idiot when he grins and dances out the front door. An idiot in love.

[ddaisychaser]

hockey player james headcannons for those who love this au as much as i do muah!

• so so sweaty when he gets home from practice. as much as you love that james is like a personal heater for you when it comes to those cold rainy night cuddles or womanhood surprisingly greets you one morning, he also is a sauna coming off the ice. yet, he’s so excited to see you, that when he burst’s through your apartment door and jumps on the bed to give you kisses, they aren’t very enjoyable when your comforter and clothes get soaked by his presence.

• of course, he somehow then manages you to take a shower with him every time.

• wearing his jersey might be one of the reasons james will ever burst out into tears of pure happiness. the first time you both started dating and you came to one of his games with ‘potter’ displayed across your back, wearing his number, poor thing almost got knocked out by a flying puck because he couldn’t take his eyes off of you.

• speaking of flying pucks, james definitely has lost a tooth or two from his reckless behavior and cocky attitude, that perhaps sometimes the other team don’t seem to understand. as much as we all adore james’s kindness and big heart, that boy is a loose canon on the ice. usually finding home in the penalty box more that either one of you would like.

• if you don’t know how to skate, it’s your lucky day! because you best believe your first date consist’s of james taking you out into the empty arena, and spending all day holding your hand as you get used to the ice. don’t worry about falling though, because james would be damned if you ever hit the ice without him catching you. those big muscles aren’t just for hockey wink wink.

• definitely is the cutest little grump if his team is to ever lose a game. james loves winning (not as much as he loves you) but considering being captain, all he wants is for his team to cherish the sight of holding the number one title and a great big trophy to display in the locker rooms. speaking of, when he does walk out after losing a game, his face immediately falls into the comfortable crook of your neck and leans all his body weight into you. just mumbling, “i tried baby, i really did.” before kissing that sweet spot behind your ear.

• dating james also includes your position as the team’s ‘mom’ james will make sure every one of his teammates adore you just as much as he does, and to give their full respect if you are to make your presence know. yet, if james isn’t around, all those boys are doting on you and asking for favors. ‘hey y/n! can you help me find my jersey?��� or, ‘y/n, i can’t figure out this recipe. can you look it over?’

• as james watches his teammates over time grow fond of you, of course he get’s sweetly jealous. mumbling, ‘sweetheart, why do you have to help sirius with his homework? you are suppose to be hanging out with me.’ although james can’t even lie, watching you bond with the team is such a hilarious, yet special, moment to witness.

[ellecdc]

the thought of the marauders and the slytherin skittles being on opposing hockey teams, and the reader being SOMETHING for the skittles (like their coach or something medical related) with the marauders absolutely feening for her has been rotting my brain recently, just had to get this off my chest thank you for coming to my ted talk.

hehehehe - also apologies to my non-hockey loving followers, I've clearly lost the plot

hockey player!marauders x slytherin staff!reader who they have a crush on [735 words]

CW: brothers, hockey, swearing

“Finally ready to leave the darkside and come join us in Gryffindor, gorgeous?” You heard a familiar voice call from behind you, causing the unlucky player you had cornered after the pregame warmup for content creation to roll his eyes.

“You do know that it’s terribly uncouth for the other team to trespass in the home team's wing, right?” Regulus grumbled as he gave his brother a pointed look. 

“‘Uncouth’, he says. Christ, Reg, join us in the 21st century, will ya?” Sirius Black chuckled as he moved to stand beside you; his already tall frame now imposing as he towered over you in his hockey equipment. 

“Get the fuck out of our hall.” Regulus corrected himself, causing Sirius to pretend to wipe proud tears from under his eyes. 

“They grow up so fast.”

“We thought we lost ya, Pads- oh!” Another voice sounded before two more Gryffindor players appeared from around the corner. “It’s you!” 

“Is it really breaking news to find a Slytherin player outside of the Slytherin locker room in the Slytherin stadium?” Regulus spat then, causing James Potter’s eyes to dart over to his teammate's younger brother. 

“Oh! Hi Reg, didn’t see ya there.” 

“Oh my god.” You huffed.

“Can I go now?” Regulus whined.

“No.” You and Sirius chorused before you two shared a look - you, glowering at him, and him, beaming at you. 

“How do you have the loveliest social media manager in the league and then whine when you have to spend time with her?” Remus Lupin asked as he narrowed his eyes playfully at Regulus, resting his chin atop his stick. 

James nodded eagerly. “We’d treat ya way better in Gryffindor, angel, just say the word.”

“The word is mischief, by the way.” Sirius added, shooting you a wink. 

“And here I was thinking my brother came all the way over here to wish his little brother luck.” Regulus deadpanned. 

“Why would you think that?” Sirius asked then, causing Regulus to theatrically drop his gloves as the two of them playfully sparred outside of the Slytherin locker room. 

You had to admit, it made a great video for instagram and tiktok - people loved brothers in the NHL. 

“Alright, alright. If you get a black eye before the game, coach’ll have my head. Get lost, Black.” You relented, swatting Regulus’ arm to dismiss him. 

“Good luck baby bro!” Sirius called after him when Regulus hardly waited a second after you told him he could go.

“Bite me.” Was all you heard as Regulus disappeared behind the locker room door. 

“The coaches are going to accuse you of coming over here to get in his head, you know.” You chided as you tried to level Sirius a look, though when you had him looking right back at you, you were sure it fell painfully flat as your cheeks heated to near painful levels. 

Sirius simply shrugged. “Easy enough to explain I didn’t actually come over here for him.”

“You lot didn’t actually come walk all the way over here in your gear just to talk to me.” You scoffed as you walked away, biting your lip as you heard three sets of skates walking behind you. 

“Sure we did.” James agreed readily. 

“Is that such a crime?” Remus asked.

“Probably not according to the league, but-”

“But?” Sirius asked as he moved to stand in front of you with a perfectly arched eyebrow, blocking you from disappearing behind a door with a staff only sign on it. 

“What is it you came to ask me?” You laughed, causing Sirius to throw his hands up in exasperation. 

“When are you leaving the Snakes to come work for the Lions?” Remus asked with a smile. 

“Why would I leave!?”

“They don’t treat you right, angel.” James answered solemnly. “You deserve better.”

“We love filming content; we’d be at your beck and call.” Sirius added. 

You hummed as you rolled your eyes. “Yeah, I’ve noticed you’re rather vain.” 

Sirius gasped and held a gloved hand to his chest. “You’ve noticed me!?”

“Get the fuck out of our hall.” You ordered him with a laugh, repeating Regulus’ demand from before. “Absolute fiends.” 

“On and off the ice, sweetheart.” Remus added with a wink as you pushed open the office door. 

“Hey! You’re not actually going to leave without wishing us luck, are you?” James called.

“Bite me!”

“Name the time and place, doll!”