#james potter music taste

[loserboyfriendrjl]

modern marauders era character's music taste except there's a catch: all of these artists are from my liked songs

sirius black: mr. kitty, russ, lana del rey, childish gambino, marina

remus lupin: bon iver, mitski, hozier, exit 18, kitty sucker

james potter: taylor swift, declan mckenna, shamiq, willow, the pussycat dolls

peter pettigrew: quinnie, chloe cherrie, le tigre, wallows, eyedress

lily evans: conan gray, la belle vie, corduroy heart, gia ford, florence + the machine

marlene mckinnon: deathbyromy, billie eilish, ayesha erotica, sky ferreira, jann

mary macdonald: chase atlantic, camille jansen, tyler the creator, britney spears, sohodolls

dorcas meadowes: evanescence, deftones, frankie cosmos, frank ocean, ethel cain

[sweetnnaivete]

thank god james has a bunch of music-loving friends because otherwise his music taste would be such ass

[remusbuzzcutt]

sunrose coded songs rn, go 🤞

[spamandemotions]

Hot take: Taylor Swift shouldn’t be the musician of the marauders.

Just think about it. None of the marauders would listen to Taylor Swift. Sure, Peter would. But that’s Peter.

Sirius is very into the Rock and Roll scene, he wouldn’t listen to her.

James? Yep, you guessed it, Rock and Roll, but not as much as Sirius.

And Remus? He would occasionally listen to classical but he also likes Rock and Roll

Idk about the rest of the cast I just know the core four.

[n03m1blog]

absolutley, the way james declares his love is so bruno mars

everyone says that the marauders love taylor swift but i disagree, james potter would absolutely LOVE Bruno Mars

just imagine him dancing around the kitchen singing Marry You, whether he’s thinking about lily or regulus or even just being a hopeless romantic and daydreaming about his wedding day he is dancing to that song

[luveline]

do you have anything more from office frenemies with james? i just read it and i loved it so much

yes! love u ty

—you and James don’t get along until you kind of, sort of do. fem!reader, 1.5k

James listens to the most obnoxious playlist in the mornings. There’s about a fifteen minute window between when he arrives and when the workday officially starts, which coincides exactly with your window. He often gets the same elevator ride, walks a pace beside you, and decides whether he’s going to let the ‘lady’ go first through the door depending on the day. 

That morning, he’d opened the door widely, grinned at you with music blaring loud enough to make a normal person deaf from his earphones, and let you pass. Then he pretended to stick his foot out to trip you up, pulling it back at the last second. 

Jerk, you think, angry even now as he tucks himself into his desk, his earphones still ridiculously loud. He actually, genuinely, is going to get hearing damage. You’re not being bitter. Human ears aren’t meant for that. 

You click onto the workplace Outlook and open a tab on your desktop. How loudly can you listen to music? you google. A few articles appear straight away that fit your purpose —you drag them each into an empty email. Then, smiling to yourself, you find an article on the negative effects of workplace noise pollution and how this sort of selfishness can affect your coworkers’ mental health and add that at the very top. 

To: jamesp@outlook.wpa.uk 

Hi James, 

please find attached a few articles I felt might be important for you to read.

Worst, 

Your unhappy adjacent desk. 

You know he’s received it when he laughs loudly, turning down his music with a few quick clicks on his phone. 

An email comes through to your inbox shortly after.

Hi bestie, 

I’m so so sorry for the noise. Please find attached a few articles I, in turn, felt you might enjoy. 

Best, 

James Potter :) 

He’s attached an irksome variation of articles. Why music can help you get ready for the day. Ten ways workplace friendships are important. Can you really find your soulmate at work? 

You open your personal messaging system. You tend not to use it with James, but this morning he’s winding you up. 

I could report you to HR for that last one, you send. 

He replies quickly. You try very hard not to look up at him from over your desktop. I didn’t mean me. 

You’ll be deaf by thirty. 

Jealous you don’t have such great taste in music? 

Jealous of everyone in the annex. 

Want a cup of coffee?

You meet his gaze finally over the computer, find him already looking at you. You shake your head scornfully. In what world would you ever want him to make you a coffee? He’s never actually offered to make you one before, to be fair, but he’s awful to you so what are you supposed to think? He’ll probably poison it. 

He stands to leave. Remus, the other accountant to complete your trio, arrives while he’s gone with his boyfriend Sirius in tow. They’re also James’ best friends, unfortunately. It makes for some awkwardness. 

“Where is he?” Remus asks you, in the midst of a quick goodbye kiss before Sirius makes his way to his desk further down the office. 

You nibble your lip and give a dispassionate shrug. You hate talking about James. You hate his stupid mess of hair, his reading glasses, his lips when he smiles crookedly and worse when he’s glaring at you. You hate the way he sighs as he clicks his neck, the quick lap he does every other hour complaining of tired legs, the genuine tenderness he shows you whenever you’re sick. You hate James. You don't like to think about him too much lest you get caught, a fish in a net.

Or a fish with a painful hook in its lip. 

“Ah, you’re here,” James says, two cups of coffee in his hand. 

You’re only a little heartbroken when he puts one on his desk and one on Remus’. Didn’t want one anyways. 

Remus grins as James comes up behind him for a rough hug and hair ruffle. “How was last night?” 

“I wish you’d come. Sirius spent all night trying to out drink Marl, you know he can’t, so I spent all night holding his hair out of his face. I wasn’t gonna talk to him this morning, but he was being very pathetic.” 

James laughs. You pretend you aren’t listening to them, pretend you don’t feel left out even if they have no reason to be your friend, clicking at random things on your screen and scrolling through spreadsheets long finished and filed. “You know I couldn’t come, Moony,” —no point starting on their awful nicknames— “what if she needed me?” 

You still. She? 

“James, there’s not much you can do,” Remus says gently. He’s a quiet, soft sort of man, but they’re all so loud about loving one another. “You have to let her… you know.” 

You feel them both looking at you, your gaze steadfast on your screen. 

“Try not to think about it,” Remus says. 

“I’ve been distracting myself,” James agrees. 

Oh, you think. Oh. I’m such a dick. 

“You could go home?” Remus says, putting his face in his hand. “I could cover you.” 

“It’s too much work.” 

“I know, but, you know, I’ll do half, and you’ll only have half to catch up on when you come back.” 

You’re not sure who she is, and you very much still don’t like James Potter, but you're not heartless. He sounds awfully upset, fragility to his voice and a foreign balling of his fist by his hip. “Um,” you say, clearing your throat weakly, “well, with me and Remus, we could cover for you.” 

James’ face is unreadable, looking down at you. “You’d cover for me?” he asks. 

“Your work isn’t exactly hard, James.” 

“But you’d do it?” 

“How long will you be off for?” 

James frowns. “Like, two days?” he says quietly. 

“That’s fine. We can do that,” you say, checking with Remus from around James hip. “Yeah?” 

“Of course,” Remus says quickly. 

James looks at you long and hard. “You’re not kidding?” 

“No, James. Not kidding. You’d do the same for me, right?” 

James leans down to hug you before you can stop him. His arms wrap around your shoulders, a perfectly amicable touch made up of sleeper muscle and the attractive smell of almond oil, nearly sweet, slightly woody. He laughs against your cheek as he pulls away, turning back to Remus for a similar hug. “Thank you. I’ll go tell Danny right now.” He beams at you. His relief is thick as honey, palpable in his warm tone. “Thank you.” 

You can’t look at him very long. 

The memory of his fingers linger, the weight of his arm behind your head. He excuses himself to go talk to your boss, and you and Remus sit in a semi-awkward silence, of which you’re wholly responsible. 

“His cat is dying,” Remus says eventually.

You wince. “Oh, no, really?” you ask. 

“He’s had her since we were kids. It’s really nice of you to do this.”

“I really do think he’d do it for me,” you interrupt. “I’m not, you know, cruel, because we don’t get on.” 

“I know. James knows that too.” 

You want to get defensive. Why does it matter if James knows? But Remus is too nice to argue with, and secretly, strangely, you’d wanted James to know you aren’t mean. You wouldn’t have sent him that email this morning if you’d known, and maybe this is apology enough for that. 

Still, it doesn’t feel right when James returns, gathering his suit jacket from the back of his chair. “Thank you guys, so much. I will bring you the most amazing desserts of all time as a thank you. I won’t even put your mug on the top shelf the next time I wash it,” James promises you. 

You bat aside the rage of knowing he’s the culprit and instead get out of your seat before he can leave. “Uh, James?” you ask. 

He raises his eyebrows. “Yeah?” 

You look at the floor by his shoes. “About earlier…”

James stands subtly between you and the bulk of the office. “You okay?” 

“I just– I’m sorry for complaining about your earphones. I wasn’t trying to be insensitive.” 

“You weren’t insensitive,” he says, “I was being obnoxious. Don’t worry about it, okay?” 

“I–” You hate yourself for all your stammering. “Hope whatever is wrong, that you’re okay. I’ll cover for you for the week if you need me to.” 

“Please stop feeling sorry for me. It looks weird on you. I much prefer you when you’re frowning, you get these super deep wrinkles in your forehead that I just love.” 

You turn away without looking up. “I’m gonna input all your sales information wrong.” 

“And I’m gonna bring you the best donut you’ve ever tasted to say thanks, sweetheart.” 

[messrmoony71]

November 3rd

November 3rd 1959 - Sirius Black was born premature to Walburga and Orion Black.

November 3rd 1970 - Sirius Black received his letter to Hogwarts. Regulus Black cried, he didn't want his brother to leave.

November 3rd 1971 - Sirius Black's twelfth birthday. His new best friends, James Potter and Peter Pettigrew threw a surprise birthday party in their dorm. The three of them also snuck out after hours and dumped a bucket of soap on the caretaker, Filch. None of them realised their fourth member, Remus Lupin was tearing himself to shreds in the Shrieking Shack.

November 3rd 1972 - Sirius Black is contacted by his Aunt Andromeda. It was the beginning of Sirius Black's rock music phase. The Marauders (as dubbed by Professor McGonagall) pranked the school by casting rain clouds inside the Great Hall and soaking everyone.

November 3rd 1973 - Sirius Black got his first girlfriend, a Hufflepuff named Eleanor. Remus Lupin fought not to be angry about it and James potter organised a common room party with lots of music, people and the boys got their first taste of firewhisky.

November 3rd 1974 - Sirius Black realised he was queer when a fifth year Ravenclaw snogged him in the stairwell outside the loudest common room party yet. Remus Lupin was still in the Hospital Wing, however the boys snuck in close to midnight so he could say happy birthday.

November 3rd 1975 - Sirius Black kissed Remus Lupin when they were getting ready for the common room party. Sirius Black had then watched as Remus Lupin fled. Both of them got incredibly drunk and it would be a while before they talked.

November 3rd 1976 - Sirius Black didn't get a common room birthday that year. He didn't want one anyway, he was still reeling from what he'd done. Remus Lupin wished him a happy birthday for appearances sake. Neither of them could look each other in the eye.

November 3rd 1977 - Sirius Black had the best time of his life. He danced with his boyfriend, Remus Lupin, played 'Ballroom Blitz' to the record on his guitar in front of the entire House, danced some more with his boyfriend, played truth or dare with his friends, snuck to the Astronomy Tower with Remus Lupin, both incredibly drunk and dared each other to count the stars. They fell asleep and woke to the sound of owls screeching. Sirius Black knew this was the best birthday he would ever have.

November 3rd 1978 - Sirius Black knew the war had intensified. The Order barely had time to celebrate Christmas, let alone birthdays, however Euphemia Potter made him a red and gold cake and they had a small gathering in celebration. It was a quiet day and the threat of the war was in everyone's minds. If had felt wrong to celebrate when their friends were fighting for their lives.

November 3rd 1979 - Sirius Black didn't celebrate his birthday. He was still grieving the loss of his brother, Regulus Black. Remus Lupin tried to help, but he kept being pushed away until he stopped trying. Sirius Black knew that was the day things started to fall apart.

November 3rd 1980 - Sirius Black was in hospital after a mission gone wrong. Remus Lupin had sat by his bedside for three days until he was forcibly removed by Dumbledore and thrown back to the front lines. Sirius Black woke up the day after to an empty chair and a sad heart. Doubt began to set in and he urged the Potter's with newborn Harry to make Peter secret keeper.

November 3rd 1981 - Sirius Black sat alone in his cell, wishing upon every star he could go back and get one more hug from his Moony. Oh, he missed his moon so much. The stars didn't feel right without the moon. He didn't feel right without his Moony. He hadn't felt right in years.

[silencesscreams]

𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞

james potter x reader

“inescapable, im not even gonna try, and if i get burned, at least we were electrified.”

a/n: maybe (just maybe) this was inspired by dress - taylor swift 🫡 also, ive had this in mind for AGES now, pls tell me about any grammar mistakes, english isn’t my first language!! also, i made up some characters just to have something to fit into the story pls dont mind that

warnings and tags: afab!reader, angstyish if you squint, uncomfortableness??, oh my god the tension, intimate and touchy relationship between friends, james mentions other girls blablabla, kissing, stitches, open wounds, falling, body shots, hickies, slighttt choking, oral sex (f receiving), praise, degradation???????? penetration, unprotected, v soft ending, use of y/n a couple of times, slow burn?? words words words. (god how i love james potter). james is a player !! r is in the marauders group, r is v close with lily, like two years after finishing hogwarts, marauders working together on the orderrrr

it started on your third year.

you were seated with a redhead named lily in potions, she was sweet. she was friends with boys mostly, so when you started getting close she was happy to have you as a friend.

on your first trip to hogsmeade, she came a long with you and brought four boys along with her; remus, sirius, peter and james.

james potter caught your eye as soon as you saw him for the first time, he was laughing to something sirius had said, and you swore that was the sweetest sound you had ever heard.

you bonded over the same taste in candy at honeydukes, music, books and enjoying the same sorts of jokes. not much longer, you could consider him one of your best friends.

after a while, you found out james was touchy, at least he was with you. he would play with your hands when he was bored, cracking your knuckles for you.

he’d always listen about all the gossip and talk shit on mutually hated people. lily was happy you got along, and most of her girl friends and guy friends were also your friends now, which made you incredibly happy to have found yourself in a group like that. you were happy about how a great friend james was, he was so nice to you.

well, until your sixth year. that was when james started getting girls, suddenly, over the summer, everyone started to drool over him. at first, it didn’t even bother you that much, sure, you bawled your eyes out when he skipped your usual outing in hogsmeade to go on some stupid date with some stupid girl, but it didn’t even bother you that much, did it? you dont know, but it started really to bother you at some point, sure, no one else was caring about it like you were, but maybe no one else was around him like you were. maybe no one else knew him like you did, at some points you even asked yourself if you really knew him after all those years. you even spent christmas with him once, how could you not know him? maybe you only knew what he wanted you to see. god, you hated this feeling.

around october it was really pissing you off. he barely hung out with you anymore, of course you always saw him in groups, but you liked being alone with him listening to music or doing nothing at all. james was sweet to be around. he was caring, and you liked his smell. the way his arm would always be around your shoulder.

but in november, what really pushed you over the edge, was him showing up to dinner with his neck filled with hickeys, really showing them off. he sat down next to you, as sirius and remus both eyed him, pretending they weren’t seeing shit, but they would probably joke around about it when you and the girls weren’t around. and that was it for you. you got up, got your books and left, you couldn’t stand to do this on that day. not when your clothes didn’t sit right, not when you didn’t feel clean, not when your hair was not staying how you wanted it to stay. not when you figured out you might be in love with your best friend.

“where you going?” james asked as soon as you got up, you ignored him and just started walking. your eyes just might’ve started to water and god you needed to go somewhere you could be alone.

so you found yourself in the library, sat next to the window, thinking about how you were going to explain storming off like that to your friends, and worst, to james. all of it was so fucking stressing.

“hey.” you heard someone whisper, and so you quickly dry your cheeks with your sleeves, turning around to face james.

“hi.” you whisper back, he signals to the chair next to you, asking if its taken. you shake your head in response, he smiles and sits down.

“what’s going on?” he asks, staring at you with his brows furrowed.

“don’t worry about it, you can leave. i know you have a date with that ravenclaw girl, i’m just upset. its nothing.”

“you really think i care about her?” he asks, rolling his eyes. “you’ve been quite upset these days, haven’t you?”

“yeah, i guess, don’t worry, really. you should go and have your fun.” you reply, smiling empathetically.

“i dont wanna go.” he answers quickly, he looks around, trying to find something to say. and then he sees your redish eyes.

“oh y/n, com’ere” he gets up, opening his arms, you roll your eyes playfully, getting up and hugging him. you dont know why but his hugs always made you feel better. it was like he took all of the sadness from you and just threw it out. he was wearing a new perfume. he smelled like 2 in one shampoo and lavender soap.

“you can go to your date, i’m fine. i swear.” you say, still hugging him.

“i dont wanna go. i wanna be here with you, that okay? plus, i need to catch up on history of magic.” he said, sweetly kissing the stop of your head, and afterwards, pressing his chin on top of it. and you didnt know if it was the moment or something else, but that was when you knew.

when you were sure of it all. when you needed to tell someone else or you’d explode.

“lily, i need to tell you something but you need to promise me this stays just between us. really.” you whisper as she takes a sip of her butterbeer.

“what’d you do?”

“i didn’t do shit. listen, don’t judge me, alright?” you reply, frustrated. she nods a yes. “i think i might be very into james and i have no idea how to deal with it.” you blurt out, staring at your own cup, too nervous to look at her.

“oh, i already knew that.” she answers.

“no you didn’t!” you whisper-shout at her

“i mean, it was a very firm theory. i just know you and the way you get silly around him and his dates sort of made me sure of it.” she smiles.

“god. im so stupid” you whisper, facepalming yourself.

“no you’re not. you should see the way he looks at you.” she says, grinning at how red your face is.

“lily, he’s had like, 20 girlfriends this past year, he’s not into me.” you answer, rolling you eyes.

“alright then.” she said, irony taking over her voice.

“im serious!” you reply, and she nods, still ironically.

for the rest of his 6th year, james didnt have any girlfriends. and on his 7th he had a few flings, but so did you.

“i just don’t get why you’re going out with this asshole!” james said while you walked with him to transfiguration class.

“he’s not like that, james, just give him a chance.” you smile at his horrified look to your comment.

“corrigan almost made me fall off my broom once, he actually is like that, sorry sweetheart.” he emphasized the part where he says corrigan is like that.

“james, we’re not getting married, its just a date.”

“a fourth date.”

“come on, he’s fun.”

“y/n, if you wanted fun you should be dating me.” you roll your eyes at that. “where’s he even taking you anyway?”

“madam puddifoot’s, i think” you answer, knowing exactly what was about to go on.

“oh, in his dreams. he’s gonna try to bang you i just know it.”

“at a tea shop?” you laugh.

“oh please, don’t tell me you’ll let that asshole suck your face.”

“i dont talk about who sucks YOUR face. because just let me add that this gale girl you’re going out with will probably give you a disease.” james laughs at that. “im serious! shes sick all the time, every time i see her shes coughing and sniffing and all of that.”

“that reminds me i gotta break up with her.” he sighs.

“nooo, why? i thought things were going well”

“nah, we’re just not good together.”

“maybe because every time you went out with her you used it as an excuse to spy on me and corrigan.”

“just trying to protect my closest friend. thats all” he smiles, winking at you and you swear you can melt into a puddle right there.

“shut up, you’re just doing this because you hate him.”

“im serious, darling. he IS an asshole.”

“i guess i’ll just have to figure it out myself.” you wink back at him.

-

“oh would you just look at that.” james whispered, looking through the window at mrs. puddifoots door.

he could ser how corrigans face was close to yours and how suddenly he kissed you, one hand on your upper thigh and the other on the back of your neck.

“is that jealousy im sensing, prongs?” sirius laughed.

“n-no! its just disgusting, he’s a prick” james was suddenly defensive.

“y/n/n seems to like him though” remus commented.

“shut up.” james said, still watching how corrigan was gripping onto you. ‘god, i hate him so much’ he thought to himself.

and that went on until you and corrigan broke up. he did end up making james fall off his broom, he had to get 20 stitches, and you cried about it. as soon as james hit the grass you were in the field, it wasn’t even a real match, just practice. you took him to the infirmary, you even held his hand.

“its just a few stitches, don’t worry about it.” he said, as the nurse started to clean the wound.

“20 is definitely not a few, just let me stay here.”

“she’s right” the nurse added, she rubbed alcohol onto the cut and james hissed.

“told you he was an asshole, hun”

“watch your mouth, mr potter” she added as he groaned again.

after you were finished with school, most of your friends went to work at the order of the phoenix, you had a part time job as a baratender but also participated in the order. james had been trying to convince you to quit the job, specially because your ex was the manager (even though he wouldn’t admit it).

“james!” you shouted, laying down at the couch in the orders house.

“what?!” he screamed back from the kitchen, he was making those god awful scrambled eggs you said you loved because he made them with such care you were sorry for his cooking skills.

“you’re taking anyone to sirius’s birthday tonight?” you ask, hoping to god he’d say no.

“no, mia and i broke up last month, remember?”

“of course i remember!” you were all smiley about it, you could squeal if he wasn’t there. even if it was silly, you were anxious to ask lily to come over and she’d help you pick out your outfit.

you both ended up deciding on a black dress she was willing to lend you. being so excited for something as casual as a friends birthday, was a bit stupid of you, that you could admit. but you couldn’t take your mind off of james now, sure it had been that way for like four years now, but he still was your best friend and you couldn’t do much about it. what was even worse was that his hugs, his voice, his smell, was all so addictive to you. and you tried, you really did, you just couldn’t.

when you got to the party at the order, you were a like two hours late, you got held back because of work and you still needed to get ready, but you somehow made it before they sung happy birthday. you wished sirius a happy birthday, giving him his gift and a tight hug. even though you weren’t close, he was still one of the most present people in your life, and you loved that about him, and so before you could even ask, he said:

“james is in the bathroom right now, but believe me, he’s been waiting for you all night though.” you smiled.

“thank you sirius, but i have other friends took, you know?” you said.

“he’ll love the dress” he whispered, and started walking away, you knew why. him and lily have been trying to get you and james together for ages now, and so you knew that when he just walked away like that, james was coming near, probably to talk to you.

“hey” you heard, and so you turned around to face him, and honestly, he looked great. he was wearing those jeans you liked and a shirt you complimented once.

“hi” you looked at him, smiling.

“you look amazing” he said, you felt your blood rush.

“thank you, i really like that shirt.” you felt the need to say something back.

“really?” he was just teasing you at this point.

“really.” and you liked to tease him back.

“y/n! finally, come on, we’re taking body shots” said lily, pulling you with her, and james came along.

everyone was there, laughing having fun. it was all super sweet, like you were in school again.

well, that was until sirius decided he’d make you regret you were ever born.

“PRONGS!” he shouted, as james was staring at him from a safe distance “COME ON LETS JOIN THE GAME, ITS YOUR TURN!”

“i’m not so sure about that, i feel like its sort of y/n’s turn, right?” james smirked to you, you glared at him. god, you didn’t know if you wanted to kiss him or kill him.

“ah james, you know how they say, gentlemen’s first? i believe that’s the phrase” you found yourself very idiotic in that place.

“i’m not drinking tonight though” james winked, you were trying to get yourself out of the situation, though it only seemed to get worse.

“perfect way to solve it, hear me out, y/n takes one off of james, problem solved!” sirius didn’t seem to have any common sense when he was drunk.

“good idea sirius!” said lily loudly through the music, and so you glared at her. this was definitely going to be the lowest point of your year, being sure james would say no, you looked over to him and he just decided to say

“fine by me” and just like that the shirt you liked too much was thrown on the counter.

“oh, uhm, okay then” you felt hot and red and you were sure that was exactly how you looked and it did not feel good. you were hoping the lighting would mask i, until james said “no need to be nervous, princess” and somehow that made you even more nervous.

“you know how this works right? lick, shoot, suck?” james asked, and so you nodded a yes, staring at the ceiling. he slipped a lime wedge into his mouth, and so you begging for this torture to end because you already felt so wet it was scary.

his tongue fell upon the rind, and so he could taste the citric flavor as you sprinkled salt onto his skin, from his navel to his waistband. he felt himself blush but decided to just ignore it and try to focus on something else.

and so it begins, you didn’t know it, but maybe james was more nervous about that than you. he was begging to the universe, spirits, everything he could, to not get hard on that moment you leaned over him, your warm tongue sticking out and licking a stripe up the salt. he tried his best to suppress a groan, you smiled, nervously, as you took the shot from his stomach, he could hear sirius saying something loudly, lily screaming and remus’s laugh. and he just saw you.

leaning towards his face, you looked at him with your ‘i’m so sorry oh my god’ look, your lips falling and plucking the lime from his mouth, but when you were going to pull back, your lips touched around the wedge and you felt your whole body ignite as your lips brushed against his.

but as quick as you tasted him, as quick it was gone.

james quickly got up and fixed himself, putting his shirt back on.

“good job” he didnt know what else to say and just high-fived you. you smile confused.

“thanks i guess” you say, as lily pulls you to the side to discuss what happened right in front of her and wasnt just actually one of your dreams.

around three hours later the party ended, and james did actually drink, once most people were hone and you were headed to the guest room you felt a hand pulling you by your dress, holding on to the silky fabric. turning around you found yourself very up close to james potter.

“hi” you whispered.

“hi” he said lowly.

“is everything okay?” you asked, his breath smelling like mint and lemons.

“yeah” he answered, still staring “can i crash with you? ‘dont wanna go home” you nodded a yes, and suddenly his hand was on the back of your neck.

“i’m about to do something so stupid.” he whispered.

“so am i.” you answered, your eyes not really knowing where to focus, his eyes, his lips, his neck, his mouth.

“good.” he nodded, and suddenly his lips were brushing over yours, your eyes started to close and then there it was.

your lips met, softly completing one another, which involved a pulling back and crashing. his lips strong against yours, and then his tongue was brushing over your lips, and so you opened your mouth and god, you dont know for how long you waited. his hands now roaming your body, you felt the heat of his body, and he pulls back.

“youre so fucking pretty” he blurted out, going back to the kiss. his hands now on your lower back, you pull him towards the guest room.

and then you were both sat on the bed, your heels off and his shoes too. your lips still attached, more and more eager by the second, and now his lips were on your neck, teasing you, as his right grabbed onto your upper thigh and your dress was riding up.

he pulled away to take off his shirt, you just stared at him, having no idea what to say next.

“hey” he was so close.

“hi”

“you wanna do this? because if you don’t that’s fine by me, really, we can just forget it and pretend we were both really drunk” he started trailing off.

“no. i want you, really, i do” you were trying not to look at him because that would make you even more nervous. just like that, his lips were back on yours, his hand on your waist, laying you down on the bed, your head on the pillow as he unzipped your dress, he was back to working on your neck, pressing kisses and nipping at it as he started to pull down your dress, his knee right between your legs, he was so so close to where you needed him.

you felt his cold hand reach for your breast, his lips trailing down to your chest, starting to suck on one nipple as his hand stimulated the other. you couldn’t help but just run your hands through his hair as you let moans escape through your mouth.

“james” you whined, as he left a trail of kissed from you chest to your inner thighs.

“yeah princess?” he looked up at you with doe eyes, right between your parted legs.

“please” you whispered.

“i cant hear you, what’s that?” he teased.

“please, i need you.” he smirked at that, pressing a kiss to the damp spot on your lace panties, your body now electrified because of the gesture.

“can i take these off?”he asked, his thumb playing with the fabric as you nod, he smiles as he pulls them down your legs. he’s using his hands to part your thighs. you can feel his breathing over your clit, he watches you as he places his thumb pad over your clit, rubbing it in slow circles and you let out a moan. his arm coming up, resting across your stomach.

embarrassment quickly turns into pleasure as he starts to kitten lick your clit.

his lips now attached as you threaded your hands into his hai, tugging and making james grunt. he’s slipping in a finger and you start to whimper.

“that feels good?” he asks, pulling his mouth off of you, you nod.

“yes, please…" he’s smiling lightly at that.

“what is it, huh? can you take another? is that it?” he teasingly asks, you whisper a yes. he watched his fingers as they slipped into you, he lets out a low groan. his fingers moving quicker as the feeling in your abdomen got stronger. his lips attach again to you clit and you whimper at the feeling. he’s flicking his tongue and his fingers are hitting the perfect spot.

“james”you whisper, he looks up at you, his fingers still going at it. “i need you now, i’m serious.”you blurt out, his fingers leave you, making you feel empty, his thumb rubs your clit as he goes up to kiss you, you’re able to taste yourself on his mouth. you moan into the kiss as he rubs you clit. his hands leave you, he starts to take off his pants, your heart races as he unbuckles his belt.

he reaches up to pin your knees up to your chest, you can feel the bulge on his underwear as he goes up to kiss you harshly. god, he did feel big.

“you sure about it?”he asks one more time.

“yes”you quickly answer.

“good girl.” you feel your soul leave your body because of the praise. he takes a moment to palm himself through the boxers,

“fuck, need you so bad” he whispers. you moan as his pulls himself out of his boxers, his erection hitting up against his stomach. he runs his hand up and down the shaft, you can feel his tip up against you.

“shit”you whisper,

“gonna be a good girl?” he’s lining himself up against you.

“yes, please, i will” you quickly answer, giving in because of how needy you were. he presses himself closer to you, stretching you around him.

“of course you are.”he says lowly, “tell me if you want me to stop, okay?”he says, and you nod. he pushes himself into you just in one stroke, the sudden stretch makes you moan breathlessly. he groans into the crook of your neck, biting down on a soft spot. “still so tight. you feel so good, princess” he praises, and wastes no time and starts to move, shallowly rolling his hips up to you. he kisses your neck as you moan.

“oh my god”you whimper. he’s thrusting harder now, starting to pick up a pace. you moan as he trusts forward, filling you up so well. you were starting to adjust to his size. your hands were back on his hair, holding on to it for dear life.

"fuck, james, harder please." he cocks an eyebrow, then pulls out to the tip, you whine at the loss,

"you asked for it, alright?” he thrusts forward roughly, filling you up with his cock, you feel him even deeper this time, the press of him against your walls making you whine louder as he thrusted even harder,

"can you take this, hun?" he fucks into you rapidly, mocking you, pushing you against the headboard, "you said you wanted it harder, didnt you?" your cheeks start to burn up. “you feel so fucking good” he groaned, the heat in your stomach building up again. you were blabbing incoherent phrases, all similar to ‘fuck please’ and ‘holy shit, oh my god james’. he’s filling you up perfectly and your walls start to tighten against him.

the sound of the slap of skin fills up the room, the base of him stimulating your clit along with his thumb, his right hand reaches up to your neck, squeezing lightly. he can tell youre close, the way your hips started to buck up, grinding needily. you yelp as he throws your legs over his shoulders, fucking you even deeper and hitting your g-spot.

“need it so bad, please” you whimper and he hums at that.

“need what?” he’s back to teasing again.

“i need to cum, please.”he’s fucking into you faster and harder than before. you clamped around him desperately, your high building up. he felt it, his hand pinching your clit as you moan in pleasure. his thrusts only getting harsher along with your whining. you just couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“you can cum princess, don’t worry” his thumb rolls on your clit faster, just like his thrusts. you came with a cry of his name, walls clenched around him as you gripped the back of his neck. seeing you, head thrown back in ecstasy, in pleasure as you cry out his name has him groaning, head dropped into the crook of your neck as his thrusts get faster and sharper, the overstimulation of it drawing out high keening noises from your throat, his cock nudging against your cervix as he spills inside of you.

"fuck, so good for me, princess," he kisses your shoulder, "such a good girl," he murmurs.

he pulls out slowly, putting himself back in his boxers, and lays you down when you mumble that you're too sore to sit up. he grins at that and you shove him, "what-? i'm just proud of myself that's all."

“you’re an idiot, you know that, right?” you tease him.

“you have no idea. i’ve loved you since i was seventeen.” he smiles, a bit nervous with his confession. and you pull him into a kiss.

“i’ve been in love with you since the first time i saw you” you whisper, and he lays down next to you, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head.

[cannibalisation]

i literally loved the tattoo artist!sirius fic you wrote it was literally pure gold!!

if you take requests could i request a James Potter x reader where reader works at the record store and he is a regular— some romance after a while of the two exchanging small talk :3 thought that would be cute!

ill just put 🐙anon whenever i make a request

i. flirt

james potter/gn!reader

thank you so much for your request! and i’m glad you enjoyed my sirius fic. i might write a second part if it is asked for ♥️ (1.3k)

caution. flirty (cringy) james, reader is nervously whipped(?), bastard cat, uncreative title, so many music references, i’ve never written for james before as he is to me the most challenging marauder to write for, i hope that i haven’t butchered his character.

i’m new to the marauders fandom and have limited knowledge, sorry for any character inaccuracies.

THREE hours and twenty-five minutes have passed since you first clocked in.

For roughly two of the three hours, you spent stacking shelves with cassette tapes and lining racks with ageing vinyls. It wasn’t a challenging job; you’d prefer it to anything else, but that doesn’t make the work any less tedious.

You’re more than grateful that the manager of Blackbird Records is not a cruel one. He allows any type of music to your liking, and fortunately he hasn’t insisted on a Christmas carol mandate until late November.

Glenn Frey’s smooth croon of lyric sounds out in the store, and you hum along to the words. It’s mostly empty inside; a handful of customers are dotted around, shuffling through the record bins. A young girl with messy copper-coloured pigtails lurks near one of the clearance bins at the end of an aisle; you pretend to not notice as she pockets a lone cassette tape with a sly grin—she has good taste after all.

Angus, the fat ginger cat of the store, sits to your left. He is a favourite among customers, and his picture even rests beneath the “Employee of the Month” plaque. He is lazy, though; he doesn’t even give you a piece of his mind when you attempt to push his sleepy form off the till during busy hours. He likes lying in the sun, so you are kind enough not to bother him right now.

The entrance doorbell chimes, and somehow, without even looking up, you know who just walked through.

James, though he insists you call him Jamie, has been a regular at Blackbird for quite some time now. And for the last few months, he has been trying to convince you to at least go on one date with him.

He’s nice about it, which you’re grateful for; he isn’t pushy or demanding; it’s really just casual flirting. Every time he comes up to the register to purchase his chosen items, he manages to throw in a cheesy pick-up line. On each occasion he does so, you either grimace in embarrassment or your face happens to heat up.

Sometimes he comes into the store with his mates; they laugh at him when the amorous quips clearly don’t woo you.

James clicks his finger in your direction and winks as he struts past you. He looks nice today, in dark denim jeans and a red polo jersey, much too big for his frame.

With a subtle glance, you watch as he flicks through the LPs that sit inside a storage bin. His supple fingers are adorned with silver and gold rings; you can’t help but admire the flex of the veins in his hands as he skims over the albums.

You retreat your gaze quickly as he turns his head in your direction, how humiliating it would be if he had caught you essentially checking him out. From what you knew about him, which was a limited amount of knowledge, as the only time you see him is during your midday shifts, James was a playful type.

Once you had thought that you’d recognised one of his friends sitting at the same table as you during your psychology class, but he wasn’t exactly discernible. He was quiet and kept his head down for most of the class, but that tweed grey and navy sweater he had on (something you think your grandfather would wear) was too familiar.

James moves on to the listening station now, where the staff picks are located. He turns one of the record player dials and shifts a pair of battered headphones atop his mess of curls. You busy yourself with caressing Angus’ patchy fur as James nods his head along to the running track.

The one-eyed cat observes you with an astute gaze, like he knows exactly what you are thinking. You stare back at him, matching his gaze with equal telling—furrowing your brows to intimidate him. Obviously that does not work, and the beast just looks at you as if you were a fool (he’s right).

The sound of someone clearing their throat breaks you out of the staring contest shared with the cat, and you plaster on your customer service facade with grace.

James stands in front of you now, bronze skin gleaming in the sunlight. God, there was truly no reason to disagree with the fact that he was a cut above the rest. His eyes, chestnut in theory but hazel in the sun, eyed you with a playful look.

You stutter out a quick “Hello” and ask, “Did you find everything alright today?” As he places an album onto the counter. The Clash’s Sandinista!—your staff pick. He had listened to your pick of the week and is purchasing it.

He laughs with a small nod and reaches into the back pocket of his jeans, eyes not leaving yours as he does so. You smile politely in return and move to scan his item; your hands are shaking.

Under his gaze, you can’t help but grow self-conscious. He has pretty eyes; there's no denying that, but they are especially heavy on your form today, and you don’t know why. Was the Beatles shirt a no-go for today? You work at a record store; musician-based articles of clothing are practically compulsory.

Despite that, you choose to ignore any building thoughts in your mind and read him the price owed. He complies with a more-than-friendly smile and hands you the exact number of bills. In an amicable—or rather teasing—manner, you bid him farewell.

For a brief moment you think he looks almost dejected, that once again you have rejected his kind-hearted attitude. That idea is quickly erased as James puffs out his chest and clears his throat once more.

“Hey—Do you live on Abbey Road? Because you got me crossing the street just to be near you!”

Oh god.

You see James again on one of your closing shifts. He saddles himself up beside the wall as you finish stacking a shelf with CD albums. His arm rests right in front of your face, and you try not to urge forwards.

“Can I help you?”

“Sure can. You, me, local pub. My mates are in a band and are performing there on Friday, think you’ll like them.” He states, voice like honey. It’s true, you probably would enjoy watching a local band perform, but you doubt you’d even be able to be calm in such a situation. Hours, if anything, spent in an enclosed, stuffy area with James? Your heart would burst right out of your chest.

As he awaits your answer, James grabs onto each CD you place down and flips it around on the shelf. You say nothing as you repeat the action; neither does he. You doubt you’ve ever met someone so annoying, yet beautiful at the same time.

“Come on—I’m dying over here.” He gasps dramatically, dragging his fist across his chest as he jokingly heaves out a final breath before sliding down to the floor. You can’t help but laugh as he does so, removing yourself from the task at hand to peer at him with a small smile. You can already feel the judgmental gaze of Angus before you even speak.

“Fine, fine! I finish at half five on Friday; now will you get up off the floor? It’s grimy.” He quickly does so at that declaration and looks with hopeful eyes. James places his hands on your shoulders and grips them lightly; it leaves you breathless. “Seriously? You’re being honest this time?”.

With a laugh, you grab a hold of his hands from where they rest on your shoulders. “Yes, will you pick me up?”

“Obviously, here, half five.” He lilted before turning away and skipping over to the front door, “You won’t regret this, I promise!”

You hope that you won’t.

authors note. my first request, thank you again and i hope it was to your liking 🫶🏻 please feel free to request anything else! this is my fandom/character list and I’ll practically write anything so long as it inspires me to do so.

[loserboyfriendrjl]

Not the person who asked but I'd love to know what music you hc they listen to ✨70s edition✨

sorry for not giving many! i promise that if i can come up with more i will share, but here is what i propose to you, for now:

james potter — abba, the mamas and the papas, bee gees, the monkees

sirius black — lou reed, sex pistols, ramones, the clash

remus lupin — the smiths, frank sinatra, paul anka, david bowie

peter pettigrew — queen, the beatles, abba, the stooges

marlene mckinnon — suzi quatro, patti smith, the runaways, the who

lily evans: abba, dolly parton, the beatles, billy joel

mary macdonald: abba, queen, elton john, cyndi lauper

dorcas meadowes: t. rex, the rolling stones, buzzcocks, mott the hoople

[lizard-on-a-window-pane]

Jealous James

request: “i was wondering if you could write something smutty with James but it’s possessive smut coz some guy was flirting with her. It’s like James overstimulating her to the point where she can’t form anything but his name and he gets so smug and shit.” / “i can’t stop thinking about James Potter and him getting jealous about seeing a guy hit on reader but she’s too innocent to know what’s going on so when they get home it’s like soft but possessive sex with him.”

pairing: James Potter x reader

summary: just the requests, mostly smut!

warnings / tags: NSFW (minors do not interact!), rough sex, eating out, fingering, p in v, mention of afab parts but no pronouns or much gendering, established relationship, cocky lovable James 

word count: 2.9k

“Nice t-shirt. Great band,” you hear from beside you as you wait at the bar for yours and James’s next round of drinks.

“Oh, thanks! They’re great aren’t they?” you reply, friendly. You love talking about the things you like, and sometimes you don’t get a lot of chances because your friends and boyfriend — all of whom you love to death — don’t always share your taste. 

“The best! What’d you think of the new album?” he asks, continuing the conversation.

“It was really good, I reckon. But I’m not sure I like it as much as the last one,” you reply. “Maybe I just need to give another listen or two.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

You smile and nod then turn back toward the bartender preparing your drinks, thinking that was the end of that. 

But he continues, “Who else do you like?” He leans in, but you think little of it, aware of the loud bar and thinking he couldn’t hear you well otherwise. 

You mightn’t’ve thought much of it, but across the bar, James’s eyes are on you like a hawk.

He sees the random bloke step toward you, sees your friendly smile, and he can’t help but feel a twinge — okay, maybe a bit more than a twinge — of jealousy surge up inside him. He tries to push it down, knowing it’s silly, knowing he trusts you completely. He tries to look away…but lasts about one second before his eyes shoot back at you, glued to the small distance between you and his new enemy. 

No, no; not, his enemy, that would be silly. Overreacting. 

Yet, his glare hardens as the man takes yet another step towards you. He says something, leaning in. You laugh, your nose wrinkling. And James, well, James’s grips tighten.

His mind plays ping pong between his two options: stay here, go interfere; stay here, go interfere. The man steps closer, and James opts for the latter. 

You go on about your favorite band, how their sound is similar to (but better than) that of the band whose t-shirt you’re proudly sporting. He leans even closer, a bit too close for you, even though you are enjoying the musical conversation. You step back but speak louder so he can still hear you. He steps closer again, and you step back and speak up even louder.

Then you feel a hand on the small of your back. You’re about to step away when you hear a familiar, lovely voice in your ear. ��All good with the drinks, darling?” James asks, standing beside you. The man backs away a bit. 

“Yeah, it’s fine.” You smile sideways at your boyfriend, relaxing into his touch, then look back at the man in front of you. He looks a bit put out, looking at James and not at you. 

“Great. Wait for you over there, then,” James says and kisses your forehead before heading back to your booth. 

You’re a bit confused but go to finish the thought you were sharing about the new album. As you do, though, your confusion increases rather than decreases when the friendly bloke in front of you is no longer looking at you, looking straight forward at the bartender instead, cold shoulder turned toward you. You shrug, grab the drinks finally placed in front of you then make your way back to James and the others in your shared booth. 

James is squirmy when you sit back down next to him, placing his drink in front of him. 

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

“Nothing,” he says, a bit too quickly, wrapping his arm around you and taking a sip of his drink, tilting his head back toward Sirius, who is in the middle of telling a very animated story. 

You try to shake it off — not succeeding completely, a strange discomfort still lingering — and listen to Sirius’s story too while James’s grip tightens on your shoulder. 

Even as a few minutes pass by, he still feels tense next to you, and it worries you. “You sure you’re alright?” you whisper in his ear.

He shivers next to you, but simply nods and says “mmhhmm” as he looks briefly at you. 

The evening proceeds: stories exchanged and enjoyed, drinks gotten and finished, friends teased and laughed with. 

The night finds you outside, arms around yourself in the cold weather, waiting for James who had to pop back in to the bar when he realized he had forgotten his hat. 

“Cold night, huh?” a familiar voice asks next to you. You turn to see the guy from earlier standing right next to you. “Yeah, a bit,” you smile, not giving him much attention, hoping James will hurry so you can get home and under comfy, warm blankets as soon as possible. 

“So, listen,” the guy goes on, “if you ever want to give that new album a listen with some company…” he hesitates then moves closer to you, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “Then maybe you can let me know, gorgeous,” he finishes, handing you his phone with a “new contact” entry open.

“Oh… uh…” you stutter, not grabbing his phone. “Thanks, but I’m on my way home,” you say a bit lamely, not sure what to say but not interested in giving him your number. 

“It’ll only take a second, won’t it?” he asks, stepping even closer. You step back, reeling for what to say. 

James finds his hat on the booth seat, putting it on as he makes his way back toward the door. He can’t help but feel a bit bad; he knows jealousy isn’t healthy, knows you probably couldn’t even tell that guy was hitting on you. For Godric’s sake, it took him forever to make it clear to you that he was flirting with you before you got together. Still, he just wanted to protect you from unwanted advances… and maybe, just maybe, make it clear to that other bloke that you were taken… by him. He shakes his head at his possessive thoughts, but as he steps out of the bar, he sees you stepping away from said bloke. At the first sign of your discomfort, his protective instincts surge infinitely higher than his possessive ones as he wraps his arm around your shoulders, putting himself between you and the man approaching you. “Ready to head home, love?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you smile, a bit stiffly, as you walk away from the bar under his protective arm. You give the (overly)friendly guy a grin as you turn away. 

You’re putting your coat on the hanger when you feel James’s hands on your hips, his breath on your neck. “You have a nice time tonight, sweets?” he asks into your neck, kissing there. 

“Mmmhmm,” you reply in pleasure, leaning back into him. 

“Mmm,” he hums into the crook of your neck, his grip tightening on your hips. He nips at your skin and slips his fingertips under your shirt. Usually he caresses your skin when his hands slip under, but this time, he finds his tight grip again right away. You feel his teeth scrape your neck and shiver at the sensation. 

You’re enjoying it, certainly, but you can’t shake the feeling that something is off. James feels stiff; he has for a while. You turn in his arms, but his grip remains tight around your waist now that you are facing each other. “You alright, Jamie?”

“Yeah. Fine. Good. All good,” he responds, his tone tense. 

You arch an eyebrow at him, enough to convey how unconvinced you were. 

He keeps eye contact with you, but after a beat, he lets out a long, loud exhale. You can see his shoulders ease at the relief of it. You rub his chest over his soft jumper. 

“It’s nothing, just me being a bit of an idiot.” He tries to laugh as if dropping the conversation there. 

“Hm. I dunno, love; you’re an idiot a lot of the time, but it doesn’t seem to bother you then,” you smirk shyly. He jokingly glares at you. 

“That bloke tonight…” “Which one?” You mean it initially; you’d already forgotten. His glare becomes less joking. “C’mon, y/n, you know. The one who was hitting on you all night. Don’t tell me you didn’t notice… you seemed like you were enjoying it even.” His eyes are colder than usual, and you hate it. You go to defend yourself, but stop in your tracks. You want to comfort him, but you didn’t do anything wrong and don’t want to apologize out of habit. 

You opt for, “You trust me?” Another relieving breath; his eye soften. “Of course I do.” His hand makes its way to your cheek, caressing you. “It’s not that I don’t, love. I trust you completely. I just can’t help but hate seeing you with some other bloke who so clearly wants to get into your knickers.” His thumb traces your bottom lip a bit harshly. “I like being the only one who gets to touch you…” His thumb slips just the tiniest bit into your mouth. 

“You getting possessive, Potter?” you whisper into his hand shakily. “Not exactly.” He moves closer. “I don’t want to possess you; I want to pleasure you,” he whispers lowly into your ear. 

Pleasure shoots down your spine from the place his lips made contact. 

“Oh?” You’re melting already. 

“Mm,” he groans affirmatively. “I want you ruined for any other man… I don’t want you looking at any other man not because you’d feel you shouldn’t but because you wouldn’t even want to… I want you completely satisfied… by me.” His voice is low, firm, setting you on fire. 

You peck his finger where it still rests in front of your mouth. “You do,” you murmur. “Satisfy me, I mean…” He’s better at assertiveness than you, your shyness creeping in the moment you get turned on. Your gaze travels back and forth between his eyes. 

He holds your gaze, his lips parted, and nods slowly, wordlessly. 

“But maybe… you could… you know… remind me?” you whisper. 

His expression turns devilish immediately, his eyes at once alight with mischief and darkened by lust. 

“Oh? You need reminding, do you?” He steps forward, forcing you back against the wall. His hand on your face grips it tightly, fingers on one cheek, thumb on the other. The squeeze purses your lips.

He moves his face toward yours at a tremendously slow pace. Your foreheads touch; your noses meet, and without further waiting, James slips his tongue directly into your mouth. You hum around it, and you think you hear him giggle. Everything sounds as if you’re underwater now, though, your blood rushing, your head light from how turned on you’re getting. You love when he’s like this, and he knows it. 

His hand on your face moves quickly to the back of your head, pulling you into him, his fingers twining into your hair. His other hand comes up from your hip to your breast, palming and squeezing roughly. 

Your lips part in your pleasured sigh, and he takes the opportunity to bite down on your lower lip. You yelp in pleasured pain, and this time you’re sure you hear him laugh.

He pulls your shirt off and pins your arms above your head as he does. His gaze on you is playful but predatory. He looks at your chest hungrily, eyes going from one breast to the other. 

He slips his finger into the band of your bra and says, “You make these look nice, love, but I still hate that you wear them.” 

He yanks the cups down and buries his face there, kissing and groaning. Your head knocks back against the wall when he sucks harshly on your nipple. You’re squirming in his grasp, pushing your chest up into him, loving the feel of his mouth. 

He sucks each of your nipples then nuzzles his face between your tits another moment before licking up your chest, your neck, sucking on your jaw while his free hand continues to pinch and pull on your nipples.

He kisses under your ear and rasps, “No one can make you feel as good as I can.” You whimper in response. 

He pulls you off the wall, and you think he is going to drag you to the bedroom, but instead, he harshly turns you around in one swift motion and pushes you back against the wall, now your front against the wall, your back to him. The cold, textured wall against your bare, already sensitive chest draws another whimper out of you, and it is elongated into senseless, prolonged “ahh”’s as James sucks on your neck and presses his body against yours. You can feel his hard cock and push your arse back into him. He groans appreciatively in your ear and can’t help but hump into you a couple of times.

You shiver from the cold of his body leaving yours, and it only gets worse when he pulls your trousers and underwear down in one go then pulls your arse cheeks apart with his strong hands, now kneeling behind you. 

You’re soaking wet and feel a bit drip down your thigh, but almost as soon as you do, you feel his tongue catch it and lick up your thigh into your slit.

“Can’t have you making a mess in the doorway, can we, love?” 

He bites your arse a bit too hard, making you yelp and jump up in place. His grip on you tightens, holding you in place. 

“Make a mess on my face instead, yeah?” he asks, no question in his tone as he shoves his face against you, devouring you immediately. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, Jamieee…” One hand pressed against the wall, the other makes its way behind you to grip his thick hair. 

He pushes your legs a bit further apart to have better access, and the combination of the less stable stance and the stab of pleasure at his sucking on your clit now that you’re more available to him almost makes you fall over. You feel the vibrations of his chuckling into your cunt, and you can physically feel yourself getting even wetter. 

He continues eating you out expertly, his hands massaging your arse as he does. You feel the warmth of one leave your body. You love his hands, and the anticipation of where you will feel it next sends another wave of pleasure through you. He doesn’t disappoint as a moment later you feel his fingers pressing into your slit. He usually takes his time stretching you out, but this time, he plunges two in at once and only a couple of strokes later adds a third. His other hand snakes around to rub your clit. 

It only takes a few seconds of this intensity to have you coming around his fingers, rutting and whimpering as you do. He keeps up his efforts to prolong your orgasm, moving even faster as you cum and slowing down as you come back down from your high. After-waves of pleasure are still shooting through you as he removes his fingers and laps at your cunt, licking and sucking and provoking the most pleasant painful tickle. He gives it a final kiss then stands back up behind you.

“I’m gonna fuck you now. Think your legs can take it?” he asserts lowly into your ear. You’re not sure they can, but you nod immediately anyway. You hear his zipper behind you.

“Good girl.” He gives the sensitive spot behind your ear a kiss then his head drops to the crook of your neck where he bites your shoulder as he eases into you. He goes slowly but doesn’t stop until he bottoms out. You feel incredibly full, and between your straining legs and your back arching to help the angle, your entire lower half is taut tight. You can tell you’ll be sore, but in this moment, even the pain is pure pleasure, every sensation heightening the visceral bliss. Deep-seated inside you, James chuckles into your shoulder. 

“Fuck you feel good,” he says. “Jamie,” is all you can respond. 

“Yeah, baby, say my name again.” “Jamie,” you whimper.

“Tell me who makes you feel this good, love, who makes you feel like no one else can.” “You, James, you. Fuck, James.” And with his first rough thrust, you involuntarily hiss another “James.” And again; and again as he starts pounding you into the wall. He’s nodding behind you; you can feel it, seemingly more to himself than to you as he continues giving you everything he has. 

One hand intertwines with yours; the other snakes around you, holding you tight and kneading your breasts. When he feels himself getting close, it moves down to rub your clit in time with his thrusts. It works perfectly, and as you cum around his cock, he groans animalistically as you milk him dry. 

You’re both standing there, breathing loudly and heavily, his softening cock still inside you, his head heavy on your shoulder. He pecks you there then half holds half carries you to turn you back around to face him. 

“Bloody hell,” he whispers, his forehead pressed against yours, his hands caressing your back. “Jamie,” you whisper back. His grin transforms into a beaming smile at what you hadn’t realized would be the perfect response. His jealousy assuaged, his love spreads through him, pushing and melting away any remaining envy like a warm wave at high tide.

[florenceafternoon]

━。゜✿ jily fic recommendations ✿ ゜。━

You know when you read a fic and love it so much that you want to find one exactly like it but different. Anyways, more Alternate Universe fics.

For reference, anything in italics is taken from the summaries on ao3.

These first few fics are all by elanev91 on ao3 (ao3 account required).

Force of Habit

Lily's been riding the same train back and forth to work for the last two and a half years and lowkey fancies the guy who sits one row up from her usual seat.

TW: parent death discussed

The fic that inspired the intro (I love it so much you don't understand)

Waffle Wars

There's only one waffle maker in the dining hall and it literally always breaks. So, naturally, the only reasonable course of action is to meticulously map out when it's working and, ultimately, do a heist.

every day I like you a little mower

Lily was JUST trying to be a good daughter and help her father with his yard work. Too bad the bloke next door is always outside and also the most annoyingly talkative person on the planet.

we could be gigantic series

Lily and James have been best friends since they were kids. Uni, a band, a trip abroad, a few tours and a couple of albums later, things start to change. Half an email fic, half a regular ol' narrative.

it wasn't a pity invite

Prompt: my family invites you to join our holiday meal as an obvious setup and omg i’m so sorry

The one where they’re both doctors - also Northern Irish Lily.

One Direction on the A4

James and Lily are having quite the morning. James thinks a little nonsense might fix it. Or James is a dork and Lily loves it.

Ye Olde Smut Fic

Student recruitment fairs suck, but never fear -- Professor Evans and Professor Potter have figured out how to make it a little less annoying.

Professor AU, Modern AU, Muggle AU. Smutty ridiculousness. Plot questionable.

The tragedy is that they live in America

The Yeast I Can Do

Dr Lily Evans had an absolute shit day at work. Luckily, there's a bakery nearby that offers a course that she hopes will take her mind off of things.

For my fellow jily & wolfstar enjoyers, go do yourself a favour and check out their other works on ao3.

Teenage Kicks by @arianatwycross

It all starts with Lily being hired to be the bands tour photographer, then she actually meets the band and she quickly becomes absorbed by their fast lifestyle, their pranks and the hot lead singer. But its not exactly simple to be crushing on a famous Rockstar, is it?

Foam Hearts by Sleepinghookah (on ao3)

Coffee shop AU. A story in which James and Lily are blind - both in entirely different ways.

I promise he's not a bad person. You've got to read till the end and it'll make sense

When The Skies Are Gray by @athenasparrow

“Carry me?” Lily scoffed, biting her lip so she wouldn’t laugh in his face. Because he was about to do something nice for her. “I’m not some damsel in distress who can’t walk! I just need a bit of cover to make it to the tube.”

OR: two strangers, one umbrella, and a little bit of fate.

Tranquil Solitude (Until You Came Along) by @thelighthousestale

Prompt: I thought I went skinny dipping alone but oh my god this beautiful human is also here naked and I am a fool

All Lily wanted to do was take a nice, quiet swim on a hot day. And then James Potter showed up. And Lily had already removed her clothes for the private swim.

it would have been sweet by @firefeufuego

‘Lily,’ he says in her ear, voice slurred and barely audible above the pulsing bass of the music, ‘is there a reason I shouldn’t marry her?’

She can taste the truth bittersweet on her tongue: Yes of course there is, you colossal, darling idiot, you’re meant to be mine. But there’s the ring on Charlotte’s finger and there’s the one Lily found in Eddie’s sock drawer, and how can she be this person? The one who steals someone’s fiancé on his stag night? That’s not who she is, that won’t be who she is. ‘Of course not, James. You’ll make each other so happy.’ She nearly chokes on the lie as it leaves her mouth, all the more so because most of it isn’t even a lie at all.

For my second chance romance girls

This Hope is Treacherous by @tinyluminaryzombie

Lily Evans and James Potter: Aquentiences, Academic rivals, and now, Friends.

Except "friends" doesn't exactly feel right but Lily's too scared to do anything about it. But as James and her keep acting like more-than-friends she's unraveling with the uncertainty of it all.

OR: Choosing to fall in love can be just as thrilling and terrifying as love at first sight.

The Viscount's Daughter by @ghostofbambifanfiction

The beautiful, vivacious, and decidedly redheaded daughter of the 16th Viscount of Rowena has stolen the heart of young Prince James. Trouble is, she couldn't be less interested in him.

Thought it was abandoned but the author posted a snippet recently so maybe not?

The Queen of the Quills - Jily Edition by @elliemarchetti 

Lily and Petunia read the Queen of the Quills' latest column on James Potter, while the bachelor announces to his friends that he intends to get married.

Quest for Camelot by the incredible @petalsthefish

After the legendary Excalibur sword is stolen, Lily and James embark on a quest to retrieve the lost weapon. Lily searches for the sword to prove she is capable of being a knight despite being a girl. James searches because his falcon, Marlene, is desperate to find it for her master, Merlin. Along the way, they attempt to outwit the sinister Ruber, navigate through magical obstacles, decode puzzling prophecies, and uncover surprising similarities between themselves.

As their journey progresses, they both cannot deny the feelings growing between them with each passing day. Will they make it out of the quest alive, or will one of them perish in the ever-growing darkness that threatens to swallow the entire realm if Ruber gets his hands on the sword?

Based on the 1998 movie Quest for Camelot, but with more plot and less singing

Fearlessly Red also by @ /petalsthefish

Red. It was such an interesting color to correlate with emotion because it was on both ends of the spectrum. On one end there was happiness, falling in love, passion, all that. On the other end was jealousy, fear and frustration. Maybe that's why James thought the nickname fit Lily so well.

or Bodyguard!James/Celebrity!Lily

Get A Room bt @chierafied

The long-awaited trip to London goes awry when Marlene chooses to spend time with her boyfriend - forcing Lily to share their room with none other than James Potter.

you don't know me (but I know you) by @emeralddoeadeer

Lily has a crush, she knows his face well but can only imagine his name; until they meet that is.

About Time by heartablaze (on ao3)

Before his final year started, James Potter offered to be a resident advisor for a first-year dorm. What he didn’t count on was dealing with a confusing redhead across the hall, hospital visits, hallway parties and writing his thesis the night before it was due. Blimey. (Muggle Uni AU)

Unexpectedly in Love by jamespotters_exgirlfriend (on ao3)

When Lily Evans entered her final year of uni, she certainly didn’t expect to fall in love with James Potter. And well, let’s just say love isn’t the only unexpected thing to come out of their relationship.

Far Post by @eastwindmlk

James Potter and his friends are very serious about their pub football league. So, when the new roster comes out and there is a new team on there, an all women's team, he and Sirius set out to investigate.

You Know How To Ball, I Know Aristotle by @wearingaberetinparis

Now that the global superstar, Grammy-winning singer-songwriter Lily Evans and professional football player James Potter are together, they have to juggle the difficulties of a relationship in the public eye. Fresh off her World Tour, Lily Evans arrives at Wembley Stadium one year after James Potter first attended her show, to perform there for one final weekend before heading to the studio to record her next album. Her boyfriend, in the meantime, is off to Germany to play at the Euros for England. How will they ever make their relationship work when Lily is - so the press loves to imply - the least supportive WAG of the tournament?

sequal to And You Heard About Me (Ooh, We’ve Got Some Big Enemies!)

It's been a long time coming and it did not disappoint

I've recommended Three Swipes, You're Out by @naireides before, but I recently came across it's sequel making spirits bright

Sports star James Potter tries to pick Lily up on tinder. Lily Evans, a dedicated not sports fan is offended by the idea that someone thinks she wouldn't recognize James Potter's face. She laughs about it with her friends at a bar, until James Potter, who also frequents that bar, comes over to clarify that nope, he's on tinder, and he's definitely hitting on her.

...

She should have expected it to be hard, dating a celebrity, but somehow she and James make it work.

[bisousbabie]

dress

best friends to lovers - James Potter x reader

a/n: prompt is the song dress by taylor swift + dialouge promt "i’m not wearing any underwear. thought you’d like to know."

cw: smut. fingering + heavy making out.

"I don't want you like a best friend

Only bought this dress so you could take it off"

James held you close. Arm around your shoulder and drink in hand as you stood by the edge of the party. Music blasted throughout giggled conversations and drinks poured fast. You wanted him so bad, no needed him.

"i’m not wearing any underwear. thought you’d like to know." your breath fanned over his neck slightly warm as you uttered those words, red stained lips falling into a slight smile.

James stood, his mouth slightly open as you smiled up at him. Your red mini dress clinging to your thighs, hardly covering anything. The music thumped through the floor making you all the more heady.

You'd done this on purpose. The sexiest dress you owned was needed, you were sick of pining and waiting for James, you had to take it into your own hands. His lips were soft against yours, the taste of your cherry soda melting into the kiss. Years of friendship, chaste kisses, and occasional hand holding all boiling down to this.

James pressed himself closer to you, your tits against his front. Before pulling you up to his dorm. Within minute you had James back on his bed pushing your dress up your thighs, placing kisses in its wake. As he righted himself you kissed his neck, the soft light of the dorm room beautifully illuminating his collarbone and jawline. James looked like a god. You pulled at his shirt, undoing the buttons as he laughed at your eagerness.

His laugh caught in his throat as you kissed him again, the desire visible in your eyes. His gentle hands cupped your pussy, rubbing circles. He kept his eyes on yours, watching you come apart on his fingers as he dipped them inside you.

"So pretty babe," He muttered before pressing his lips to yours once again. His palm was perfectly bumping against your clit with every thrust, his fingers hitting just the right spot. James watched you fall apart moaning softly into his gentle kisses.

You stayed with him all night, a beautiful friendship turning into something you'd both pined for for years.

[enviedear]

save the date ⟶ james potter

DESCRIPTION ⌙ after an innocent suggestion that james potter is horrible at relationships, he feels inclined to prove you wrong. PAIRING ⌙ james x fem!reader CW ⌙ mention of food, eating food, petnames WORD COUNT ⌙ 2.3k

❛ ֪ ׂ shenanigans? is that what you call your love life? ֪ ׂ ❜

join my taglist | request | masterlist

for the second time this month, you’re spending your friday evening trying to drone out an argument. hilariously large and bulky headphones sit upon your ears— and yet you can still make out the aggravatingly grating noise.

if you’d known being james’ roommate would have entailed you hearing multiple fights from different girlfriends, you may not have signed the lease.

may not have— because a rent controlled apartment in the city is far too good to pass by.

truthfully, you felt a little bit bad for james. he was so good at picking gorgeous, captivating women. you could never fault his taste, no, you faulted his ability to be a boyfriend.

take this instance, a disagreement that started over dinner plans, only to devolve into a full blown argument. over what currently? you’re not exactly sure. but by the way the woman was yelling at him, you were sure he had said something stupid.

seconds later you can hear her huff, slam his door, walk down the stairs, and leave the apartment.

slowly, you remove your headphones, the noise of your music now being the only thing you can hear. you wait, looking expectantly at your door.

almost on some cue, james opens your door with a counterfeit smile on his face, “any plans tonight?”

you roll your eyes at him, “let me guess? non refundable dinner reservation and two tickets to the movies.”

he walks into your room, plopping down on your bean bag chair, “act nice or i’ll take sirius instead.”

you ignore him, “be honest, what did you do this time?”

“absolutely nothing.” he grumbles, shaking his head.

you didn’t believe him for a second. you’ve known james for four years now and you’ve lived with him for two. you knew in your soul that he, despite trying, always managed to do something.

he had a strange ineptitude for romance. it was as though he couldn't make it a week before his stupidity turned from endearing to unbearable.

he sighs, "she kept asking me if i had anything planned for our date— and i didn't want to ruin the surprise, so i just kept saying no. 'no, honey, i figure we'd wing it.' fuck— i didn't think it would blow up like that."

you gape at him, "but you did tell her, right?"

he shrugs, "by the time i thought to she was already leaving."

this was james, unable to keep a relationship purely because of his own doing.

"you're going to end up alone." you chuckle, fiddling with your phone to turn off your music.

james is silent, so you go on, "i'm saying this from a place of love, but you're horrible at relationships. almost criminally bad at them." your finger points at him, mocking.

he glares at you, tousled curls falling into his eyes, "i am not."

you grin, "yes— you are."

he ignores you, plopping down onto your bean bag, "and still i get more dates than you," he pauses, muttering out, "brat."

"you do not!" you don't mean to, but your voice comes out childishly.

james finally rids himself of his frown, smirking, "fuck's sake, calm down." it takes everything in you to not pelt him with whatever's near you. he has such a chuck-worthy grin.

it was often that the two of you would have these petty disagreements. mostly due to the close proximity of sharing the same space, but sometimes, you honestly didn't understand why both of you were so worked up.

you get off of your bed and squat down to his level, "i'm so close to throwing you out."

he smiles, and lazily pulls you down with him, "i didn't mean it, don't be mad."

you narrow your eyes, despite the grin on your face, "you're temperamental, potter."

he chuckles, eyes now closed, "and you're wrong."

you hum, arm touching his, "about what?"

he looks at you, "'bout me. that i'm bad at relationships."

you almost laugh at him, because if there was one thing you knew as fact— it was that james had a ninety-nine percent fail rate.

so you're easily coy when you speak, "oh, then please, prove me wrong."

your tone is playful, but james' eyes make you pause. he looks eerily\ honestly, determined.

"with pleasure." he says simply.

you don't say anything after. not for a few moments. you try instead to ignore the strange tightness in your chest at his words. wordlessly, you rise from beside him and open up your closet door.

"what time is this reservation?" you ask, subtitling watching his face brighten.

james smiles, "you'll come?"

you shrug, "i'll never turn down money spent well."

he laughs, "and you think my funds are best spent on you?"

there's a mischievous glint in your voice, "aren't i always the best cause."

he feigns annoyance at you, but goes to leave your room so that you can change. as you watch him go, and note the way his dress shirt hugs the curves of his toned back. often, you’d catch yourself admiring him. it was silly, but despite your usual chagrin of him and his antics, you found him so beautiful.

you’re barely concentating on the clothes he's wearing now, thinking instead to the half-awake version of him from last night, wearing only his plaid boxers and leaning against the fridge, a glass of water in his hand, eyes half-lidded.

and then, the james you so often see after a shower. his face flushed, hair tousled, and towel always riding just low enough.

of course, you noticed him and you tried not to lie to yourself about it. you found him attractive, sure, but that was all. you knew there was nothing else there, and you’d be an idiot if you let your mind even think there was.

putting your fascination with him to the side, you scour your closet for something presentable. reaching the back of your closet before finding anything, a flowy little number you had apparently hidden from yourself for god knows how long. you inspect it, and slip it on once you decide that the small wrinkles at the bottom of the skirt are inconsequential.

you do your makeup in the bathroom, james butting in often to try and hurry you along, "how many coats of mascara more? can we please leave?"

you shush him each time until you're finally ready, "there— see? that didn't take so long did it?"

he rolls his eyes, "felt like bloody years."

you chuckle, opening the door for him, "i don't even think i reached an hour, you brat."

he jingles his keys in your face, his assortment of keychains slapping against each other, "play nice."

it's safe to say you do not 'play nice' for the entire duration of the car ride. you take immediate ownership of the radio instead, queuing all your favorite songs. james protests for five or so minutes before shaking his head with you and singing along.

the restaurant he's chosen is a suedo-modern fusion steakhouse— horribly expensive— and you can't help but feel a little out of place as you step inside. james, however, seems right at home. he greets the hostess by name and leads you to a private booth in the back.

as you sit down, you eye him, "what?" he asks, sipping his water.

"how often do you come here. i mean, they seem to know you." you're smirking, finding it quite funny.

james shrunches his face, "no, actually, my parents have insisted on eating here for my past six birthdays."

you hum, "i forget mommy and daddy are wealthy, you should really advertise it more. as an incentive." you're kidding of course, james reeked of rich kid. in the nicest way.

he gestures at you with his butterknife, "you think i haven't pulled that? c'mon honey i'm not completely daft."

you chuckle, taking a sip of your own water. watching as james continues, dwelling into a story about work. you've already heard it but you'd feel wretched to tell him. so, you listen, watching his brown eyes and strong use of his hands with each adjective used.

you've almost blocked everything but him from your sense when the waiter returns, placing down an appetizer you're sure the two of you didn't order.

you look to james, who's in the middle of placing his order. he sends you a wink.

you fumble through your own order, cursing yourself for not looking at the menu more thoroughly.

"do you even know what that is?" james asks when the waiter walks away.

you roll your eyes, "yes james, i'm well aware of the french word for fish."

he shrugs, "can't hurt to make sure." there's a pause, "d'ya like the wontons?"

your face morphs into a smile, "you ordered this?"

"yeah when i made the reservation, don't feel too special." he's got a shit-eating grin on his face, freckles more prominent in the overhead light.

you tease, "i'll remember this next time you're in need of my assistance."

he leans back, feigning innocence, "hey, i'm just trying to create a memorable dining experience."

the conversation continues to flow, easy and familiar. it doesn't surprise you, how comfortable you are with james, even when he's being his usual cheeky self. the food arrives, and you both enjoy the meal, trading bites and sharing stories. it's one of those moments when you forget about the world outside and just relish in the company of a friend.

as dessert arrives, james leans in a bit closer, his tone shifting to something more serious. "you know, i appreciate you putting up with my shenanigans. not just tonight, but all the time."

you raise an eyebrow, a playful grin on your face, "shenanigans? is that what you call your love life?"

he chuckles, but his gaze is sincere, "yeah, that and everything else. you've been there for me, and i don't say it enough, but i'm really grateful."

you feel a warmth in your chest at his words, and for a moment, the playful banter fades away. "you're not so bad yourself, potter."

he smiles, a genuine one this time, "i'd hope so."

an hour passes by, and you're both lost in conversation when you realize the restaurant is beginning to close up. with a sigh, you both gather your things and leave. the night air is cool as you step outside, and you find yourselves walking down the quiet streets back to his car.

as you stroll, james looks over at you, his expression soft, "you know, i might not be great at relationships, but i've always liked what we have. you're more than just a roommate to me, you're like my confidant, my partner-in-crime, and my closest friend."

you feel a flush of emotion at his words, a mix of happiness and something you can't quite put your finger on. "you too, potter. just don't let it get to your head."

he grins, slipping his hands into his pockets, "wouldn't dream of it."

the two of you continue your leisurely walk, the city lights casting a warm glow around you. it's a somewhat quiet night, but the silence is comfortable, the kind that comes from years of shared experiences and unspoken understanding.

as you approach the car, james stops and turns to you, his gaze searching yours, "you know, i might be awful at relationships, but there's one thing i'm certain of."

you raise an eyebrow, curious, "and what's that?"

he opens his car door, soft smirk on his face, "i'm pretty sure i've already found the best thing in my life."

your heart skips a beat, but your eyes roll, "smooth, potter. really laying it on thick."

he chuckles, a hint of nervousness in his eyes, "i mean it, though." he proceedes to give a light shrug before getting into the car.

you chuckle and follow him, "you're insufferable."

he smiles, turning to head to you, "you can say whatever you want, but you know deep down you love me."

you slide into the passenger seat and playfully roll your eyes, "maybe i just have a high tolerance for insufferable people."

james starts the car, and as he pulls away from the curb, he glances at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes, "ah, so you're admitting it now, are you?"

you laugh, shaking your head, "i said high tolerance, not undying affection."

he grins, focusing on the road, "well, that's progress, i suppose."

the drive back to your apartment is filled with lighthearted banter and comfortable silences. when you finally arrive, you both step out of the car and make your way to the entrance.

as you approach your apartment door, james turns to you, a playful grin on his face, "you know, i have another surprise for you."

you raise an eyebrow, curious, "oh really? and what might that be?"

he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small box, presenting it to you with a flourish, "ta-da! a box of chocolate-covered strawberries, your favorite."

you take the box with a surprised smile, "well, well, james potter, you're really pulling out all the stops tonight."

he chuckles, "just trying to prove that i'm not a lost cause in all things romantic."

you open the box and take a strawberry, popping it into your mouth with a satisfied hum, "i have to admit, this is a step in the right direction."

james grins, looking almost proud of himself, "i'll take what i can get."

you both head inside, and as you settle back into your apartment, you can't help but reflect on the evening. despite his usual antics and relationship mishaps, there's a side of james that you've come to appreciate more and more—a side that values your friendship and makes an effort to show it.

as the night winds down and you both prepare for bed, you find yourself sitting on your respective beds, sharing a comfortable silence. you glance over at james, who's focused on scrolling through his phone, and you can't help but feel a sense of contentment.

"hey, potter," you speak up, breaking the silence.

he looks up, raising an eyebrow, "yes, my dear roommate?"

you smirk, "you know, you might be onto something with this whole 'proving me wrong' thing."

he grins, setting his phone aside, "oh, am i winning you over, then?"

you shake your head, a teasing glint in your eyes, "let's not get ahead of ourselves. but maybe, just maybe, you're not as hopeless as i thought."

james leans back, looking satisfied, "i'll take that as a victory."

you both exchange smiles, and in that moment, you're reminded of why you agreed to be james potter's roommate in the first place. despite his esoteric personality, he's genuine and loyal, and always there to bring a smile to your face—even if it's through exasperation.

with a smirk you get up, making your way upstairs before calling out, "I'm free this Sunday, might as well give you a second date."

[sweeterelease]

no me digas que no

jegulus microfic I tiny gift for @alexsays-no I wc: 867

James likes singing to him.

Everyone knows James Potter indulges in a little makeshift karaoke from time to time, most times, nearly every fucking day. Regulus can hear him in the shower, while cooking, working, cleaning, reading, he could really just be existing and still feel the need to hum or sing along to whatever song his mind has fixated on that week.

Regulus isn’t really sure he gets music the same way James does, he prefers his poetry written dry on paper, it grants him the power of bestowing his own sense to it rather than sticking solely with the one created by instrumental. Regardless, he can appreciate James’ soft voice humming into his ear, whispering lyrics like he’s confessing his crimes to Regulus, even when most fo the time he can’t understand a word serenaded to him.

“Oye mi amor, no me digas que no,” James’ low voice melts into the back of Regulus’ neck as his hands wrap around his torso, he’s slightly rocking them from side to side to the muffled soft rock melody coming from the living room.

Regulus has heard this song before, enough to actually recognize it. James’ music taste doesn’t shy away from that many genres, so he rarely finds himself obsessed with the same song twice, but this, Regulus knows, this is his song, —he suspects James has subconsciously assigned it to him— it’s the only one James always, always sings when it’s just the two them.

“…y vamos juntando las almas,” James follows, Regulus can feel the grin against his shoulder. His frame completely secured by the other’s larger one, it feels like home, always has.

Regulus turns off the water after he’s done rinsing his hands and walks over to the kitchen island where he left his cup of tea. James hangs from his back and waddles right behind him. After a quick sip, Regulus places the cup down and leans back to rest his head on James’ right shoulder. He feels light kisses flutter against his cheek.

“Hello,” Regulus offers.

“Hi love,” James replies, letting go of his sides just to reach for his hands on the counter.

“What’s this?”

James chuckles, “A hug?”

Regulus sinks into it, welcoming. The embrace feels content, almost overwhelmingly so, “You're happy.”

Another chuckle, “I am.”

They both know it’s genuine, he can feel his own body feed from James’ energy, “Anything in particular?”

“Just this, you.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere, Potter,” Regulus laughs.

James is silent for a moment, pondering. And then Regulus feels a gentle nibble at his earlobe, “Right, I forget annoyance got us here .”

He laughs again. Regulus seems to just laugh whenever he’s with James, it was strange and confusing at first, now he rather likes it. Regulus frees one if his hands to lift it up by the other’s head, fingers curling around unruly hair. James continues rocking them back and forth to the music, serenading him again when the chorus comes.

“I know this song,” Regulus points out.

“Do you?,” James hums back.

“It’s the one you always sing,” —for me, he ends up not saying.

James makes a pleased affirmative noise, agreeing with him. And because Regulus is always right, he says, “Well, it’s kind of your song. In my mind, at least.”

I noticed. He thinks it’s adorable, but he’d like to know more about this recurrent tune, “What does it mean?”

A beat, “You know, for a native-level in french, you’re pretty shit at all the other romance languages.”

James must think he’s so funny, hilarious. Regulus huffs and turns his head just enough to glare at him.

“Excuse you? French is the superior one anyway.”

James lets out a proper cackle at that, head rolling back, “Not in a million years.”

“So, do you secretly hate me? Is that what the lyrics say?”

James hums again to the music, eyes creasing at the corners from the grin pulling at his cheeks, “Close guess.”

See, while Regulus does have an —justifiable, thank you— inclination for the french language, he thinks the rest of the romance languages aren’t that bad. At least spanish, which he recognizes in the song, can be quite similar to his mother tongue sometimes. Hence, Regulus gets a hint that the song isn’t about hatred at all.

“I secretly hate you, too,” he whispers, right by James’ ear.

“I know.”

Regulus’ gaze drops down to James’ smiling mouth, his lips look inviting, he wants to bite. “Not much of a secret now,” Regulus can feel his own lips stretch into a small smile too.

“Shame.”

James closes his eyes as the song reaches its climax, tightening his hold around Regulus while he sings along to the bridge.

Oye mi amor, no me digas que no, y vamos juntando los cuerpos…

Because Regulus is very much not pretty shit at other latin-derived languages, he catches the end of that last chorus. He also decides to obey.

Sue him, perhaps Regulus does like spanish, but he knows James rather enjoys french as well.

[sincerelyyycece]

i’ve always thought you hated me.

Being James's elder sister, you exuded an air of intimidation. Despite his pleading for you to join a birthday party, you hesitated, knowing his bothersome little friend would be there. You anticipated a ruined evening, but unexpectedly, a single conversation changed everything...

note: lily and james here are best friends who are obviously in love with each other but are both oblivious to each other's feelings.

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

"Y/N, please come with us," James begged. I responded by shaking my head. "Please, Y/N," he pleaded, "the group is expecting me to show up with you there." "No," I said flatly. "Besides, I’ve got things to do," I explained. He looked at me with scepticism. "Really? Like what?" he asked, crossing his arms. I opened my mouth to respond, then shut it again. So, what was I supposed to do? I mentally went over the tasks I needed to complete, which I had apparently completed earlier. I groaned internally as I rolled my eyes. "Not important; I just don’t want to go, James," I reasoned. I attempted to leave, but he blocked the door. I scowl at him. "Move," I command. He grinned as he shook his head. "James Potter!" I exclaimed.

"Join me, and then I’ll let you leave; it’s that simple, Y/N." His grin broadened. I glared at him. "I could stay here all day," he jokingly said. "Fine, fine. I’m going. Just move out of the way," I grumbled. He cheered and moved. I smiled at him, my lips pursed. "I will change, and you," he says, pointing to me. "Get dolled up," he adds as he walks towards his room. As I walked towards my room, I shook my head.

At the bar

My ears were filled with loud music as soon as we walked in. James searched the room for his friends. I followed suit, my eyes meeting familiar brown ones. They were the ones I dreaded seeing. The same ones who irritated me to no end. He looks so vexing. He motioned for us to sit with them with a wave. James took a step forward, and I followed. He greeted his friends. "Y/N!" exclaimed one of James's mates. "Glad you can join us," he said, grinning.

"I’m glad to be here, Sirius," I said, smiling. "Where has the birthday girl gone?" I searched the area for traces of the birthday girl, Marlene Mckinnon. "The dance floor, with the other girls," said a deep voice. I scowled. I turn around to face him and say, "Lupin." A minute passes. "How are you?" he inquired. I was puzzled. Normally, he would respond with a remark that would irritate me, but the tone in his voice sounded genuine. He was genuinely interested in how I was doing. I softly chuckled. "I’m doing well; work has been hectic but rewarding," I say.

We were having an ordinary conversation. We are finally being civil to each other. "That is good," he said, nodding. "Would you like something to drink?" he asked, handing me a glass. I accepted it from his grasp as a yes. I sipped it, and my face creased at the bitter taste. "Firewhisky?" I inquired. He laughed. "Yeah, why? You don’t like firewhisky?" I shake my head no. "Not really. I have only drank it in front of my male colleagues to seem cool, you know?" he laughed. “Professional,” he remarked. I rolled my eyes amusingly.

We talked and laughed for quite some time. "You know, you are not that bad," I exclaimed, catching my breath after laughing. "How so?" he asked, raising his brows. “I’ve always thought you hated me,” I said, his eyes widening. "What?" he exclaimed, laughing. "Don’t make fun of me," I grumbled. "Come on, I have a good reason to believe that," I continued. "Let’s hear it," he said, motioning for me to explain. "You never talk to me," I interrupted when he opened his mouth.

"Every time I try to talk to you, you always find a way to avoid me. When I enter the room, you always leave, making an excuse. I was hurt and perplexed. I didn’t know what I did to make you do all those things. After that, I swore to myself that I would treat you the same, hence the remarks and attitudes," I explained. He locked his gaze on me for a few moments. I’m embarrassed. "I know it’s stupid, Forget it," I said, laughing. "You were mistaken," he said.

"I was intimidated by you; I didn’t know how to approach you, so I avoided you; I was afraid of saying the wrong things if I talked to you," he explained. "Believe me, if I had the courage to talk to you much sooner, I would have," he said with a smile. I was taken aback. "You were intimidated by me?" I could not believe it. "What? Why? How?" I frantically inquired. He laughed at my excitement. "How could I not?" he wondered.

"When I first met you, you were this girl who held her head up so high and defended your brother even though you did not know the whole story; after your brother's disagreement with his classmate, you demanded to know what was going on and scolded him for his wrongdoings; you looked so cool," he explained. "I am pretty sure that day was the first time I was intimidated by a woman," he remarked. I jokingly hit his arm and laughed alongside him. "I remember that. Wow, was I that scary?" he nodded in response to my question.

"Gosh, I am glad you talked to me today; otherwise, we might be avoiding each other right now," I joked. "Agreed. You should thank James for convincing me to talk to you." I turned to face James, who was drinking with his friend, Lily. "I will do it later; he appears to be busy," I said, motioning to them. He grinned. "Your brother is a coward, too," I agreed. "I am surprised Lily has not picked up on his advances; she is also a little clueless," I added. "Enough about them," he concluded.

I made the decision to break the silence between us. "I suppose this makes us friends?" I joked. "It does," he replied, smiling back. "Would you like to dance?" I stood up and extended my hand to him. He accepted it, and I led him to the dance floor. I felt myself enjoying the night as my body moved in time with the music. I am amazed at how quickly a night can change someone's status.

Sharing vulnerabilities opens the door to confessions, unravelling revelations that can reshape your entire perception of an individual. In this narrative, Remus takes centre stage. Initially, I believed I knew Remus well—an individual with a penchant for irritating others, a perception formed without delving into who he truly was. My certainty about my opinion of him was unshakable.

However, tonight marked a revelation. Remus proved my assumptions wrong, revealing an engaging and pleasant side of himself. Our conversation flowed effortlessly, touching upon his passion for guitars and a myriad of other subjects. His ability to make me feel comfortable was swift, a stark contrast to the prolonged durations it typically takes to connect with others. Locked in a gaze, time seemed to slow, the background music muted, and an unspoken connection lingered between us—a sensation I struggled to pinpoint.

The palpable tension dissolved only when an accidental collision with a stranger disrupted our shared moment. Apologizing to the unintended intruder, I consciously set aside my emotions, attributing the intensity of the encounter to the possibility of alcohol-induced influence. Yet, upon reflection, I acknowledged a genuine interest in truly getting to know someone for the first time.