#james potter thoughts
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um- okay so just think about james potter who can't sleep without you. he'll be like- coming at your side as you keep working, leaning in slightly so that he can look at the screen of your laptop and gently brushing a kiss on your shoulder as he tries to focus. he'll bury his head to your neck, his hair so soft against you, he'll whisper to your ear, come back to bed. you'll of course be teasing him, aw poor baby you can't sleep alone, and he's gonna nod because he can't. he accepts it. he's not embarrassed, he carries his love and affection with pride. he's gonna convince you with a slow smile and kiss you on the corner of your mouth. he's gonna put his head on your chest when you're finally in bed, gentle demands for you to play with his hair, he'll fall asleep wrapped around your scent. pretty boy, you'll whisper, he's so beautiful when he sleeps, it almost hurts.
#james potter#james potter x reader#james potter x you#james potter thoughts#james potter imagine#james potter x fem!reader
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#aaron taylor johnson#aaron taylor johnson fic#aaron taylor johnson imagine#aaron taylor johnson as james potter#aaron johnson#lemon bullet train#bullet train 2022#tangerine bullet train#tangerine and lemon#lemon and tangerine#tangerine#tangerine x reader#pietro maximoff#pietro maximoff x reader#pietro maximoff x y/n#james potter thoughts#i need a james potter#james potter headcanon#james potter fanfiction#james x regulus#james potter x reader#james potter#the marauders#kraven the hunter#kraven#kraven the hunter aaron Taylor Johnson#atjohnsonedit#atj#atjedit
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I’d love to see candy cane ❛ wow i really can’t speak, huh? must be because of how pretty you look. ❜ IT’S SO JAMES CODED OMG
also congratulations on 6k you deserve it so much!!
omg it is sooo james coded!!! also this is funny bc a while ago my bff aerial did this exact prompt with james for a request I sent in! great minds think alike I guess
james potter x fem!reader
James is bombarded with your loveliness the moment he walks in the door.
“Jamie!” You beam at him from where you’re folding laundry on the living room floor. You roll up a pair of his socks before scrambling to your feet to meet him. “Hello, honey. How was work?”
You throw yourself at him in a clumsy but no less affectionate hug. James takes the brunt of your weight happily, his hands folding around your waist.
“Hello,” he says back, a little dazed. You smell lovely. His hands skim over the strip of bare skin on your back, where your top rides up. You’re warm under his palms. “It, um. It was good.”
You pull back, still positively beaming. James blinks at you. You’re so pretty and so clearly ecstatic to seem him. He could die.
“Yeah?” You ask him, head tilting slightly to the side. James thinks you resemble a puppy, a little bit. “That’s good. Are you hungry, baby? ‘Cos I haven’t started on dinner yet, but I can get it going now, if—“
“Sweetheart.” James stops your sweet rambling, and brings a hand to your jaw. “I’m okay. I’ll eat whenever you’re ready, yeah?”
You nod. “Okay. You’re sure you’re not hungry?”
James does his best to smile at you, but it’s hard when you’re being so lovely and all he really wants is to kiss you silly. “Yes. I’m sure, bub. Let me help you with the laundry?”
You let him help you, albeit grudgingly. You both sit on the floor and sort things into piles. James notices, with not much surprise, that your folding is much neater than his. You’re chatting away to him, and he’s listening, he swears he is, but he’s so distracted by how achingly lovely you are that it’s hard to pay attention.
When you’re done you crawl across the piles to sit closer to him, crossing your legs so your knees press into his. You put your hand on James’ thigh and he feels starstruck.
“So, for dinner,” you start conversationally, like you’re not being the loveliest most captivating girl he’s ever met right now. “I was thinking mac ‘n’ cheese? There’s lots of pasta in the cupboard for it. Or we could do tomato soup, or just takeout if you want. Whatever you like, Jamie.”
And you push your hand further up his thigh, and smile this awful smile that makes James’ heart race, makes his palms sweat and his head swim.
“I— okay. Um. Uh, um.” What were you talking about again? He thinks you might have mentioned pasta. “Pasta is good, I think?”
You give him a half bewildered, half amused look. “James, what?” You say, giggling a bit. You bring your hand to his cheek and he hopes he’s not as boiling hot as he thinks he is. “Are you okay?”
James shakes his head from side to side as if to clear it. “I’m fine, it’s— I’m just. You’re—“ And he literally has to stop talking, because the way you’re looking at him is tying his tongue in knots. How do you expect him to be able to function properly when you’re being so lovely? When you’re touching his cheek and sitting so close, asking him what he wants for dinner and looking at him like he’s made of starlight. He puffs out a big breath, hot in the face.
“Wow, I really can’t speak, huh?” He admits, totally embarrassed but also totally past caring. “Must be because of how pretty you look.”
The spell breaks. You rolls your eyes and huff at him, good natured. “James,” you groan.
“What?” James laughs and takes your hand from his cheek, lacing his fingers with yours. “I’m serious. You’re messing me up, sweet thing.”
You squint at him, like you’re trying to figure out if he’s being serious or not. Your must realise he’s totally and completely serious, because you wrinkle your nose at him.
“Ugh.” You say, and unfold yourself to stand up.“You’re impossible.”
James gawks up at you. “I’m impossible? You’re the one bewitching me like some sort of evil witch woman.”
You giggle and flounce off, saying something about putting the pasta on to boil. James is left to sit there wondering if you really have put him under a spell. He sure feels like it.
#★ mal writes!#mal’s 6k!#james potter#james potter x reader#james potter one shot#james potter imagine#james potter thoughts#james potter drabble#james potter headcanon#james potter fic#james potter oneshot#james potter fanfic#james potter fanfiction#james potter blurb#james potter x you#james potter x y/n#james potter x fem!reader#marauders#marauders x reader#marauders x you#marauders x y/n#marauders x fem!reader#marauders fanfiction#marauders fanfic#marauders fic
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James Potter would love gryffindor parties, but I think he’d also take many bathroom breaks just to separate himself from the noise and crowds so he doesn’t get overstimulated.
#based off of….#ME ‼️#james potter#james fleamont potter#james potter headcanon#james potter hc#james potter has adhd#adhd james potter#james potter has autism#autistic james potter#james potter textpost#prongs#moony wormtail padfoot and prongs#mwpp#the marauders#the marauders era#marauders#marauders era#mwpp era#prongsie#james potter headcanons#sirius black#remus lupin#peter pettigrew#marauders tumblr#marauders textpost#marauders thoughts#james potter thoughts#james f potter
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omg aerial. do u think james is an ass or tits man 🧐 (for educational purposes ofc)
smut 18+ — james potter x fem!afab!reader
i feel definitely a tits man
he’ll stare at them really obliviously and you’ll say something like, hey, eyes up here, buddy. god, and he’ll get so blushy and a lil apologetic. oh, sorry, baby. really. super sorry. you laugh because it is kinda funny.
when it’s cold he’ll have his hands up your jumper if he can beat you before your own hands are up his. laying on the lounge, you’re up against his back and his hands are up your clothes. squeezing every now and then when he remembers where they are. in the line at the grocer. he gets a little handsy and you’re swatting him like, jamie, stop it. he gets a little too smug when he can get you flustered yourself. he never pushes it though. he listens. he will corner you though at like a party and just grope them, eyes really fucking bright behind his glasses. jesus, christ baby. this top :))) sometimes it feels too good for you to let him stop. you kiss him. james, wait til we get home, hmm? he stops. suddenly stern. right. home.
and during sex????? it always starts with him massaging them over some really fucking pretty bra he’s bought you. something lacy and extravagant. squeezing and massaging until it almost hurts. he’s ripping it off as gently as he can but still as quick as possible. as soon as they’re free he has his mouth wrapped around your nipples. he just grunts and smothers his face in your chest while you pull at his hair. which really only spurs him on. he loves to be on top while he fucks you so he can watch them bounce <3 he sometimes leans down to mark you up. purple marks over the soft flesh of your pretty tits <333
#james potter#james potter thought#james potter thoughts#james potter headcanon#james potter headcanons#james potter hc#james potter x yn#james potter x reader smut#james potter x reader#james potter x afab reader#james potter x female!reader#the marauders
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James In December
headcanons of post-Hogwarts James in December and around the holidays
warnings: none :)
words: 0.3k
a/n: I literally JUST made one of these for sirius but as i was making that one, I kept thinking of james hcs so here we are
- Just to start with the obvious, he's super into Christmas and the whole month/season tbh
- A rich boy just like Sirius, so he gets into the gift giving aspect of the season
- But he does a lot of more personal gifts and acts of service, even tho he definitely has the money to buy everyone in his life a diamond necklace every day
- Is also the type to get crazy gifts like a whole dog or something
- Gets a new tree every year and absolutely loves the smell of the pine
- Loves how much baked goods he gets to eat around this season, but says that white people thing when he eats christmas cookies/treats like "oh those are dangerous, get those away from me haha"
- Makes a snowman posse in his yard of everyone in his life (him, his friends, his family, even throws in random people. think like a kid making Miis on their nintendo DS)
- He eats snow and icicles all the time, even though everyone tells him it's nasty
- Even tho he's a whole adult, he'll take christmas catalogues and circle everything he wants in them
- Will watch that yule log fireplace channel like it's a whole tv show and then snap out of his trance eventually and realize that he's been watching for an hour straight
- Cannot wrap gifts, he tries and fails every single year
- He'll either use magic to wrap gifts, or just stick things in bags/boxes and hand them out
- Loves christmas carols and all christmas music (even tho he's like the only one)
- Puts up mistletoe, but also one-ups that by carrying one on his person so he can whip it out whenever
- He consumes hot chocolate like it's nobody's business, especially when it's got all the toppings and extras
- James owns multiple ugly christmas sweaters
- And he wants to do matching pyjamas with everyone lol
- He hosts a christmas party for all his friends and family every year
- Is so excited to have a whole family that he can celebrate with
- Once December ends, he starts thinking about how it's gonna go next year
#james potter#james potter x reader#james potter x y/n#james potter fanfiction#james potter fluff#james potter imagine#james potter headcanon#james potter thoughts#christmas#december#marauders era#marauders fluff#marauders fanfiction#marauders headcanon
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have you forgotten anything?
okay this is actually the second / third blurb i've ever written? if i'm correct so my writing has defo changed since i posted this back in september <3 tw: pet names ; i have not read over this for my own sanity ; (0.7k)
james potter x reader
masterlist // taglist
The sun felt uncomfortable in James’ eyes as he woke up from his sleep. He didn’t try moving though, because you were clinging to him like a koala and that alone was enough reason to stay still.
He shifted his gaze to the clock on the bedside table which read, 6:15, 15 minutes left before his alarm went off. He reached over to switch it off before giving you a peck on your forehead and getting off the bed.
You, half asleep with your face pressed into the pillow, can feel the mattress shift while he gets up. Deciding to stay in bed a few more minutes, you turn around to look at James who’s heading towards the bathroom to get ready. As he feels your eyes on him, he turns around and says, “Hey love, sleep alright?”
Your voice is low with remnants as you reply, “Yeah, I did.” He nods and smiles before he turns back to walk to the bathroom. You can hear him turn on the shower faucet as you drift back to a peaceful sleep for a few more minutes.
Your alarm goes off, startling you as you check the time, 7:00. You get up and go to take a shower while James is already downstairs and making breakfast.
“Angel?” he called out to the empty living room hoping his voice would carry up the stairs.
It was a practiced routine, he would go off to work, and you would leave the house around 30 minutes later because your work was closer. You’d get home earlier too, usually taking care of chores to try and distract yourself from your husband’s absence.
“Yeah?” replied a voice, barely loud enough for James to hear. If James was guessing correctly based on the sounds of the blowdryer, you were still getting ready.
“I might be home a little late today, I’ll try to make it quick, is that alright?”
As much as he loved his job, he hated the fact that it took away his time with you. His boss had wanted him to train one of the new employees and he didn’t want to say no because, well, that’s who he is. And you loved him for it but all you could think about was that you’d have to spend another hour distracting yourself.
He always calls every few hours so you’d still get to talk to him, but it still wasn’t the same as actually being with him.
“Yeah, of course, love,” you said, slightly distracted by your thoughts.
James took note of that and replied, “Is something on your mind?”
Your blow dryer switched off and James could hear your footsteps on the wood floors as you walked towards the stairs. Your thoughts created a whirlwind in your head as you walked down the stairs to pause in front of James. He smiled as if to encourage you to say what you’re thinking.
“No, it’s nothing, it’s just…” you paused for a moment, trying to form an answer, “what am I supposed to do while you’re gone”
James looked confused but flattered as he said, “What d'you usually do while I’m at work.”
Heat rose to your face at this question and you mumbled, “Wait for you to get back mostly”
His eyes widened as he thought about you spending an hour waiting for him. He’d do anything to be there with you but for now, all he could do was assure you that he’d be in contact with you.
James’s cheeks went pink at your confession and he said, “I’ll call you extra today, okay?”
And you couldn’t suppress the grin that emerged on your face at his willingness to give you what you want even if you hadn’t officially asked him.
“Yeah, okay.”
As James turned to leave you noticed the keys on the counter. You picked them up and said, “Have you forgotten anything?”
He turned around, saying “Yeah, actually, I think I have.” Before quickly walking towards you and placing his lips against you in a soft kiss. Heat rises to your face once again as he pulls away slowly and gazes at you with a look in his eyes that can only be described as pure adoration for you.
You lift your hand to show him the keys and said, “I meant these, but thank you love.”
#ivy is writing !#james potter (ivy’s version)#marauderluvs#james potter x reader#james potter imagine#james potter fanfiction#james potter fanfic#james potter headcanon#james potter oneshot#james potter thoughts#james potter#james potter drabble#james potter fluff#marauders fanfiction#marauders#marauders x reader#userroma
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james potter 100% cries when u cry
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rivals to lovers with james potter during christmas season, a season where everything and anything normal turns into a competition ( at least, for you and james ). a season where you can't just admire the snow peacefully without a snowball fight with james. where you 'accidentally' hit his glasses, leaving him tumbling directly in your direction, causing you to fall and for him to land on top of you. yet after all the rivalry throughout the years he still doesn't know how to control the blush appearing on his cheeks everytime.
a season where the gryffindor house host a small christmas party with competitions, something both you & james love. and after a few rounds it's just you and him left in a christmas lights competition, the small crowd of your friends and classmates cheer, excited to see who gets to win the basket of sweets.
after a bit of struggling and tugging the lights over and over, you managed to somehow get tangled in the lights.. with.. james potter. together. stuck. arm touching arm. and worst of all, your face is facing his, and you could see his cheeks grow pink.
another idea by @elderlune ily!!
#james potter#james potter blurb#james potter imagines#james potter imagine#james potter x reader#james potter x y/n#james potter x you#james potter fluff#james potter headcanon#james potter thoughts#marauders era#the marauders#the marauders imagine#the marauders imagines#prongs#marauders era fluff#james potter fanfiction#james potter fic#james potter drabble
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James Potter darlings.
#In my opinion#anyyyyy gender#james potter#jamie James Jane#james potter aesthetic#james potter thoughts#prongs#james fleamont potter#red academia#red aesthetic#summer aesthetic#comfy aesthetic#cosy academia#romanticism#chaotic academia#vintage academia#vintage aesthetic#james and regulus#jegulus#jilly#jily#marauders era#marauders#harry potter marauders#marauders fandom#hp marauders#atyd marauders#harry potter fandom#harry potter#anyway <3
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james is the sun. not in the traditional sense that he is a ball of joyous sunshine. he burns so bright and powerful, he is a raging fire of fury. prongs radiates a passion so strong that it is slowly destroying all that he is, and all he will be
#james potter#james potter is the sun#james potter thoughts#marauders#moony wormtail padfoot and prongs#prongsfoot#sunshine character
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omg wait !!! how about james with a reader who gets hangry😭😭😭 him knowing the reason ur upset is bc you haven't eaten much today and the minute you do you're just all over him and kissing him and cuddling him and talking ab how he's such a good boyfriend😭😭😭😭 me core
HAHAHAH him just knowing you feel on edge because you look so sullen every time someone says something and you don't react the way you normally do. when you make a few comments in a not-so-kind way james just KNOWS for sure he needs to get something in your stomach because you obviously need food even if you don't say anything
and when you're finally full of your favorite meal??? and a nice dessert afterwards???? he's the best boyfriend ever, you make him feel like it!!! can't keep your hands off him, kissing his cheek every time he leans in to say something. ahhhh, him smiling satisfied, that stupidly attractive smirk of his, he just knew it and it worked and he's so smug now that he got his sweet girl back <333333
sad girl sleepover ♡
#sad girl sleepover#james potter#james potter x reader#james potter x you#marauders#james potter thoughts#james potter imagine#daenysdreams
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Oh, to be loved by him... What beautiful, fun, and unique feeling that would be...
#james potter#aaron taylor johnson#the marauders#remus lupin#sirius black#harry potter#james potter will forever be my wickedness#james potter fancast#james potter headcanon#james being james#james potter fanfiction#james potter x reader#james x regulus#james potter thoughts
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underneath kitchen lights — james potter x reader
summary — james has a crush on you, lily’s shy and unbelievably sweet coworker. you nurse a crush of your own. (based on all my ghosts by lizzy mcalpine!)
or .. you got a slurpee for free, I caught you looking at me, in the 7/11 under fluorescent lights. I spilled mac and cheese on my pants, and thought about kissing you underneath kitchen lights!
contains — shy!fem!reader, florist!reader, strangers-ish to friends to lovers, rugby player!james, modern au, flirting, mutual pining, fluff, james being a total sweetheart, sirius being a twat and a good friend, wolfstar because I couldn’t resist, kissing, lovesick!james, idiots in love tbh, and ummm lots of references to all my ghosts!!
notes — um I am very nervous to post this. but also please don’t let it flop.
fem!reader 8k words
James has an embarrassingly big crush on you. For someone he’s only met twice now, you’re very good at getting stuck in his head. It’s hardly his fault — you’re lovely. You always smell like flowers (which is kind of a given, he supposes. You work with Lily at Harriet’s, the florist’s down the road). You’re very pretty. You’re quiet and a bit shy but you’ve spoken enough that James at least knows you’re polite and friendly.
He’s talked to you a grand total of one time. You’d exchanged a few words and James had been very very quick to fall in love with everything about you. Your hands as you wrung them in front of you — a shy tell, he’d guessed. Your voice, pretty and soft, and how it’d sounded when you said his name. The way you dressed, your hair, the quirk in your mouth when he’d made a joke, the hitch in your breath when he’d shook your hand. He was a goner the second he’d met you.
“Prongs,” drawls Sirius, followed by a hard punch in the bicep. “You know you’re not as subtle as you think.”
James scowls in the general direction of Sirius’ voice. He’d been staring at you, he’s sorry to admit. You’re talking to Lily and you’re smiling about something she’s said and you just look so pretty.
He badly wants to talk to you properly, he has ever since the first time Lily bought you around to a party like this one, but he’s scared of embarrassing himself. He’s not exactly the best flirter when it comes to girls he actually likes. His tongue gets all tied and he can’t say two words without ultimately embarrassing himself. He’s not as much of a charmer as everyone thinks he is. He’s also scared you won’t like him, but he won’t get into that.
“Shut up,” he advises Sirius, rubbing his sore arm. “I don’t even know what you’re on about.”
Sirius, sprawled on the couch next to James, rolls his eyes and snorts. “Yeah, okay,” he says, all sarcasm. “S’not like you’re burning holes into Y/N’s face or anything.”
For a split second James panics. He whirls around to look at you so fast he almost snaps his neck in half. Have you heard Sirius? Do you think James is a total creep now? No — you’re still engrossed in your conversation with Lily. James breathes a sigh of relief but it’s cut short when he realises Sirius is laughing at him.
“Mate,” he guffaws. “You’re hopeless.”
It’s James’ turn to roll his eyes. “Thanks a lot,” he says dryly.
Sirius grins with all his stupidly perfect teeth. “Y’welcome.”
James sighs and scrubs a heavy hand down his face. Maybe he is as hopeless as Sirius thinks. He’s certainly feeling quite hopeless right now. With you across the room and him sitting here unable to make himself get up and talk to you. As subtle as he can he twists to look over the back of the couch again to see what you’re doing. He’s just in time to see you disappearing into the kitchen by yourself, Lily now talking with the other girls by the ranch slider.
His heart rate spikes. This is his chance.
James is getting to his feet before he knows what he’s doing. He dodges another hearty punch from Sirius, pretends not to hear Lily when she asks him where he’s going, and follows you into the kitchen on clumsy feet like a puppy on a leash.
He stumbles into Lily’s kitchen and there you are. Standing with your head in the fridge, the bright white lights cast over your skin. And there’s a lot of skin to look at. Your shoulders, your upper back. There’s a beauty spot on your back, just next to your shoulder blade. Your dress floats just above the halfway point of your thighs. You’ve got really nice legs. James snaps his eyes back up to your head before he can feel too guilty and clears his throat.
You start and then whirl around, eyes wide as saucers, one hand curled around the fridge door.
“Oh,” you say, breathless. “James. You scared me.”
James is so busy melting over the way you say his name that he almost forgets to speak. “Sorry. Shit, I’m sorry, Y/N, I didn’t mean to.”
You shake your head and your big dangly earrings jingle like bells. “No, it’s okay. Don’t be sorry.”
You smile all soft and pretty and James really thinks he might pass out. He steps forward and leans against the kitchen island as casually as he can, when really he’s using it for support lest he keel over.
You’re looking at him like you’re expecting him to say something. He clears his throat again.
“Um,” he starts lamely. He braves through. “I, um— you look really nice tonight. I wanted to tell you earlier but Lily’s been stuck to you like a leech since you got here.”
You blink at him and James worries he’s said the wrong thing. Maybe this was the worst idea he’s ever had. And he’s had a lot of bad ideas. But then you beam.
“Oh,” you say, shocked like you can’t quite believe it. Which should be impossible, really, James thinks. You’re beautiful. It’s hard not to believe it. “Thank you, James.”
James smiles back. Your shyness at being complimented only fuels him. “You’re welcome. Just don’t tell Lily I called her a leech.” At this, you giggle, and James stammers through his next words, dazed from your laugh. “So, uh— are you looking for a drink?”
He gestures to the fridge, which you seem to have forgotten about, the door hanging wide open under your grip.
“What? Oh,” you say sheepishly, and suddenly you’re embarrassed and staring at your shoes. “No, I’m…” You lift your head and blink at him under your lashes. “Promise you won’t laugh at me?”
James is perplexed, but he’s not gonna laugh at you if you don’t want him to. He licks his dry lips. “Yeah, I promise.”
You smile, then dip your head towards him like you’re sharing secrets. “I was cooling off,” you admit, sheepish. “It got too hot in the living room and Lily’s patio has mosquitos.” You hardly give him time to reply before you’re cringing, saying, “It’s weird, right?” Like you know he’s gonna think it’s strange.
He doesn’t think it’s strange. Well, maybe a little. But he’s been found in worse positions at parties. You look so embarrassed about it James is almost sorry he asked. Almost, because embarrassed you is adorable. You lean back and scrub your neck awkwardly, bracelets clanking on your wrist.
“No, I know,” he groans sympathetically, nodding vehemently. “Lily really needs a mosquito net or something, so we can open the damn door without getting eaten alive. Can I join you?”
You look baffled for a moment, and then shy all over again.
“You want to join me while I stick my head in the fridge?” You ask, an amusement to your tone that James adores.
James shrugs. “Why not?”
You smile outright then. “Okay,” you say, stepping aside so there’s more room in front of the fridge for him. “C’mon, then.”
James practically skips over to you. The moment he steps into your space he can smell your lovely scent. Flowery and sweet, something floral like hyacinth mixed with something sweet like honey. It’s intoxicating. He feels like he could drown in it. But there’s no time for drowning, not when your hand wraps around his elbow and pulls him into your side, your feet shuffling to accommodate him.
“Move closer,” you urge shyly. “You gotta get the full experience.”
James moves closer. So close his arm brushes yours and he could hold your hand if he wanted to. He very much wants to. He imagines your skin is as soft as it looks.
The coldness of the refrigerator washes over him and it’s actually really nice. Even though he can be a total party animal sometimes, he understands why you would be here instead of in there. It’s quiet in here. Nice and cool. No lingering scent of heavy wine. No Sirius to tease him and no Marlene to badger him with questions about his love life.
“This is nice,” he says quietly, over the gentle buzz of the fridge.
You giggle softly. James thinks he’d like to make you laugh a million times over. “Isn’t it?”
“Mm,” James hums. “I should do this at parties more often.”
You laugh again, delighted at his joking. “You should. Then I wouldn’t be so lonely when I escape to the kitchen.”
James laughs too. He can’t quite believe his luck right now, squished in front of Lily’s refrigerator with you, elbow to elbow, the rest of his friends and the party long forgotten.
“I think I’ll take you up on that offer,” he says, smiling big.
The next time James sees you, it doesn’t go quite as well as previously. To put it simply, it’s a disaster.
First of all, he’s late. Remus and Sirius are having a housewarming party at their new place and he’s had training all day so he’d forgotten all about it. It’s not until 9:30, an hour after the party was supposed to start, that he’s climbing in his car after training and his phone buzzes.
He picks it up, exhausted, expecting one of his teammates. Instead it’s a string of messages from Remus.
You’re late James!!!!
We started without u. Where r u????
Sirius is gonna wring ur neck
James scrolls through the messages with a mixture of confusion and dread. Confusion because at first he has absolutely no idea what Remus is talking about. Dread when he realises.
He speeds all the way home, showers at lightning speed, pulls on a rumpled shirt and a pair of jeans that he’s sure aren’t clean, and he’s out the door within ten minutes of getting home. Still, by the time he gets to Sirius and Remus’ place it’s almost 10. His hair looks a mess but it’ll have to do. He doesn’t even think about the fact that you could possibly be there. That is, until he’s finished apologising profusely to his friends and Sirius mentions you. James perks up from where he’d been slumping on the couch, feeling exhausted and sorry for himself.
“What?” He asks, too loud. He tries to tamp it down but honestly, it doesn’t really work. He’s still buzzing with nervous energy when he asks, “Is she here?”
Sirius grins, looking uncharacteristically cat-like. “Uh— yeah,” he says, like it’s obvious. His stupid grin only grows and James thinks he’d quite like to punch his teeth out. “She came with Lily. Moons thought we should invite her. She’s a lovely girl, isn’t she?”
James knows he’s teasing but can’t quite bring himself to care — the prospect of seeing you has demolished all other feelings of pathetic-ness. He leaps off the couch and makes his way to the kitchen, guessing that’s where you’ll be, a barely touched drink in his hand and Sirius’ teasing following him all the way. He’s so busy fixing his shirt before he sees you that he doesn’t see you. He walks right into you on the threshold of the kitchen.
“James!” You gasp, stopping short.
James’ drink, to his horror, has spilt all down your front. His glass, previously full, is now half empty, the rest of it splattered all over your white top.
You barely have time to be surprised before he’s apologising.
“Shit,” he curses, mind blanking. His hands go to fix the damage before he realises he probably shouldn’t touch your chest, where his drink is now seeping into your top and showing no signs of stopping. He pulls his hands back lamely. “Shit, I’m so sorry, Y/N. Oh gosh. I’m so dumb, I—“
Your rush to forgive him is almost as quick as his apology. “No!” You shake your head and it’s awfully cute despite the situation. “No, it’s okay, James. I should’ve been watching where I was going.”
James grimaces. He tries not to look at the dark red stain that looks like blood on your white blouse. It is quite possibly the worst thing he could’ve spilt on you.
“It’s okay,” you say again, softer, reassuring, probably clocking the pathetic look on his face.
“Don’t, angel,” James says, shaking his head. “S’my fault.” He grabs your elbow gently and starts to pull you out to the living room, seeking Remus, who he knows will have a spare t-shirt that’s at least clean. “C’mon, I’ll find you something else to wear.”
“Wait, James. Wait.” You plant your feet in the doorway of the kitchen and James stops walking. He looks back at you, feeling guilty, hopeless, confused, and a bit endeared by you still, all at once.
“What?” He asks as gently as he can when he’s feeling like such a loser.
“I don’t wanna cause any trouble,” you say, biting down on your bottom lip so hard James is sure it hurts. You’re shy, he remembers. Quiet and polite. You probably don’t like people making a fuss over you, even though you should really. You’re pretty enough that people should be making a fuss over you all the time. “I think I’ll just go home, s’only a ten minute walk. I was going to leave soon, anyway.”
James frowns. “I can’t let you do that,” he says, shaking his head. He also can’t let you feel uncomfortable. He conjures a compromise. “Look, how about you wait here while I go ask Remus for a spare shirt? And then I’ll walk you home to make it up to you.”
He knows walking you home isn’t near enough to make up for ruining your top. But it’s the best he can do right now.
“But you just got here, didn’t you?” you say, frowning yourself.
James shrugs. That’s hardly a problem for him. “Don’t worry. I see those two asshats every day of my life, sweetheart.”
You still look unsure but James isn’t changing his mind. He’s going to walk you home if it’s the last thing he does. But first, something for you to change into. He leaves you in the kitchen and finds Remus, whom he asks for a shirt, to which Remus says, “What’s that for?” too loudly.
James explains what happened dejectedly. He’s not exactly surprised when Sirius laughs at him for it.
It’s a quiet walk to your place. You live close, which is both good and bad. Good because it means every time James is at Remus and Sirius’s, he’ll know you’re only ten minutes away. Bad … well, for the same reason.
James tries his best to fill the silence with easy conversation. It’s not hard, especially when you’re so sweet and kind and answer his questions so pleasantly. You’re easy to talk to. You don’t laugh at him when he slips on his words. You don’t make him wait for answers. You ask him questions, too, timid as you are about it.
James finds he enjoys your company even more than he was expecting. You’re like a breath of fresh air. You’ve got the radiance of an early spring morning and the softness to go with it.
It’s safe to say he’s disappointed when you come to a stop in front of your place.
“This is me,” you say, fishing your keys out of your purse. You’re in one of Remus’ band tees and James thinks you look much better than Remus does in it. As much as he loves Remus. He realises he’s staring too late, his eyes following you as you walk up your front steps.
You unlock your door and then look back at him, timid.
“Did you want to come in?” You ask, sweet in your shyness.
James would very much like to come in. He also thinks he might fall on his face if he spends much more time with you. He’s already dizzy on his feet and he’s been with you all of fifteen minutes.
“No, no, that’s okay,” he says as kindly as he can. “I should probably get back, or Sirius’ll have my head.” At least he knows where you live now. In a totally not creepy way.
He steps forward to take your wrist in his hand, his thumb pressing into your pulse point. He can feel your heartbeat. It’s not quite as fast as his feels but pretty close.
“I’m really really sorry about your top,” he tells you. He spreads his fingers over your forearm, your skin warm as late summer under his touch. “Can I do anything to make up for it? Buy you a new one?”
He wasn’t joking, but you giggle, your face lighting up, your eyes crinkling at the corners. James feels something akin to a mad swarm of butterflies in his ribcage.
“No, James,” you laugh, breathless and lilting. Your free hand lands on his forearm and his skin burns under your touch. “It’s okay, really.”
“Okay,” James breathes. His head spins as you squeeze his arm. Your skin is impossibly soft. You smell so nice. “But, seriously, let me know if there’s anything I can do. It was such a nice top, it looked lovely on you.”
You flush like James knew you would. He’s slowly discovering he likes making you flustered more than he’ll admit.
“Thanks, James,” you say, and James imagines if he touched your face you’d be burning. “But, really, it’s okay. I’ll see you around?”
“Yeah. See you around, angel.”
It’s only after you close the door and James is at the bottom of the steps that he realises he should’ve asked for your number. He really is as hopeless as Sirius says.
-
James Potter is on your mind most of the time. You can’t help it. You’re not above admitting you have a crush on him. You are above admitting how big said crush is.
He’s really one of the sweetest people you’ve ever met. Sure, you don’t meet a lot of people. But you’re sure if you did he’d still be one of the best. He’s kind, he’s funny, he’s unbelievably charming. He’s a bit awkward sometimes and you like that, it makes you feel better about your own social ineptitude.
It also helps that he’s very very handsome. You would look at him all day if you could. He’s all dark, velvety skin, inky curls that you’ve imagined weaving your fingers through more times than you can count. Deep brown eyes turned bright with his ever-present smile. Thick eyelashes, a lovely sloping nose, a quirk to his mouth that you think you could get drunk on. He dresses well, too, though you’re sure he’d look just as good in a hoodie and sweatpants. Or nothing at all. You’d squashed that thought before it could go any further.
You don’t even mind that he spilled wine all over your nicest top. Sure, the stain is never gonna come out. It’s sitting in your closet, ruined. Embarrassing as it is, you smile every time you see it. James had made up for it tenfold anyway, walking you home and telling you he was sorry about a hundred times. It would be hard to not forgive him.
“Y/N?”
There’s a call of your name from the office door. You’re in here on your lunch break, not really eating more than you are thinking about James. Margaret, the older lady who owns Harriet’s but only comes in Thursdays and Tuesdays, is poking her head through the door.
“Hi, dear,” she says. “Sorry to disturb you, but there’s a customer out here asking for you? I can tell him to come back later, if you’d like, but he seems quite insistent.”
He. Of course, your mind flies straight to James. Which is ridiculous, you know, but it was already parked and idle at James, anyway.
“He’s asking for me?” You ask, perplexed. You don’t usually get personally requested by customers. And if it is James, you’re sure he’d ask for Lily instead.
“Yes, dear,” Margaret smiles, and she looks amused.
You get up because it’s your job, not because you’re hoping like hell it’s James. You put down your barely-eaten sandwich, brush past Margaret with a small ‘thank you’ and emerge into the shop.
There, standing at the counter, is James Potter.
“Y/N!” He says as soon as you emerge. He’s bouncy. Frazzled. You would even say excited. “Hi, lovely. I’m really sorry to barge in on you like this, were you on your break?”
“Oh, um, no. It just ended,” you lie. You still had a good ten minutes left. Not that you’re gonna tell him that.
James’ smile makes the lie worth it. “Perfect. ‘Cos I need your help.”
You think you physically perk up. Like a cat when it smells food is near. You hope he doesn’t notice.
“Okay,” you smile. You’re happy to help if it’s James you’re helping. “With that?”
James explains that he needs a bouquet, your best work, better than a boring one you can get at the grocery store because he really really needs this person he’s giving it to to like it. Your smile fades at this. At the fact that he’s getting flowers for someone else. He won’t tell you who this someone else is. He also won’t tell you why he’s giving it to them. You’re sorry to assume it’s a girl he likes. Possibly Lily? Maybe that’s why he asked for you and not her. You wouldn’t be surprised, they’re close and she’s gorgeous.
Of course, you help him anyway. You recommend flowers that last the longest, colours that go together, which ones smell the best. He’s asks you what your favourites are and ends up going with those, saying he trusts your judgment.
You have to admit it’s all very endearing. And you have so much fun helping him that by the time he leaves, arms full of a huge bouquet made up of all your picks of flowers, you’re beaming. Despite the daunting fact that he’s walking out of your shop with a bouquet for someone else.
Margaret appears once he’s gone. She’s got this big smile on her face that you can’t quite make sense of.
“He’s a handsome one,” she muses. “Is he your boyfriend?”
Your cheeks go redder than the roses on the shelf behind you.
Much later, you’re in the comfort of your small home, a bowl of steaming hot mac and cheese in your lap while the TV drones on. It’s some sort of romantic comedy that you can’t say you’re very interested in. Despite the lead male being very attractive. You’re about to change programmes when there’s a knock on your door.
You start. Nobody ever comes over. You don’t have many friends, and the ones that you do have, you tend to go over to their places, rather than the other way around. You’re so busy worrying about who it is that you haven’t even stood up before there’s another knock.
You get up off the couch, mac and cheese forgotten on the coffee table. You give your outfit a once over. You’re in sleep shorts and a hoodie that’s too big for you. Not your best work, but it’ll have to do. You fix your hair with little to no care and then open the door.
It’s James. You gape. You definitely should’ve paid more attention to your hair.
“James,” you say.
He beams right back, seemingly unaware of your sleepy appearance. “Hi, sweetheart.”
You stare at him. He looks pretty as ever. It’s only just going on sunset, and the colourful sky casts streaks of orange and golden yellow over his pretty face. The last bits of sun tangle themselves into his curls and drown themselves in his eyes. He’s dressed casual, but he still manages to pull it off, like you’d thought. A hoodie and jeans, a pair of beat up converse. He’s hiding something behind his back and you think you hear cellophane crinkle when he moves.
“I’m sorry I didn’t call,” he’s saying. He doesn’t have your number. But Lily does. Is it crazy to think he’s maybe asked her for it? “Is this a bad time?”
His kindness reminds you how to speak. “Uh— um, no. S’not a bad time, I just wasn’t expecting anyone. Are you— um, did you want to come in?”
You’re rambling, you know. He hasn’t even told you why he’s here and you’re asking him to come in.
James smiles kindly and it makes it all better. He’s good at that. At making you feel okay for being a bit of an awkward loser (your own words, not his, of course.)
“I’d love to come in,” he says, all smiles. “But first, I have something for you.” He pulls whatever he’s been hiding out from behind his back and offers it to you between your chest and his. “To say I’m sorry about your top.”
You blink. It’s a bouquet. It’s the bouquet. The one you’d helped him put together. The one that has all your favourite flowers and colours and smells because despite you thinking it was for someone else, you’d still wanted the best for James. You blink again.
“James,” you say, a little breathless, a lot speechless. “They’re for me?”
James laughs and you feel dizzy for a moment. He’s got a really nice laugh. “F’course there for you, sweetheart. Who else?”
He makes you take them from him, one of his hands guiding yours around the stalks. His skin is warm and sets yours on fire. You’re surprised the bouquet doesn’t go up in flames when you take it from him.
“I-I don’t know,” you stutter. “I thought …” you don’t finish your sentence. You’d thought they were for some other girl who’d caught his eye. You change tactics mid sentence, “They’re lovely, James.”
“I know they are, dove. You picked ‘em out.”
You giggle then. He’s the sweetest boy on the planet, you decide. He let you pick out your own flowers, and you didn’t even know it. You’ve never properly been given flowers before, despite working at a florist’s. It’s a new feeling. Like a star burning in your chest that doesn’t seem to want to go out. It hovers in you ribcage and stays there, buzzing madly.
“Thank you,” you say, lifting your eyes to his. You find he’s already gazing right back at you. There’s a rogue curl falling over his forehead that you’d love to push out of the way. “Really. I love them.”
James flashes you a boyish grin. “Good, ‘cos if you didn’t, I’d have to have a word with the girl who chose them.”
You’re still beaming when he comes inside. He follows you into the kitchen, where you find a vase for the flowers. You set about taking them out of their packaging, cutting the stalks and putting them gently in the glass vase filled with water.
James watches you and you can tell he’s trying to be nonchalant about it all, about being in your space, but his eyes scan your kitchen like it’s a map he’s trying to figure out. Your mismatched mugs on the counter. Your magnets and Polaroids and receipts on the fridge. Your overgrown plants on the windowsill.
You carry your flowers to your small living room and put them in the dead center of your coffee table. The bouquet is so big it would block most of your view of the TV if you sat on the couch. You hardly care. You’d rather look at them than the TV, anyway.
Setting the flowers down, you spot your half eaten mac and cheese and hope James doesn’t take you for a slob. You’re lucky he didn’t catch you on a Friday night. You’d be drowning in ice cream, probably.
“Are you hungry?” You ask him, half hoping he’ll say no, because who in their right mind asks their crush if they want macaroni and cheese? It’s so lame, but you can’t take it back now. “I have mac and cheese, but that’s about it, sorry.”
You cringe and wish you’d held your tongue, but James beams.
“I’d love some mac n’ cheese,” he says. “Unless it’s boxed, that shit tastes like cardboard.”
You get him some mac and cheese, glad you made it yourself, gladder you haven’t resorted to boxed food just yet. The two of you sit in the kitchen on your tall kitchen stools under your golden lights and eat. James is easier to be around than anyone you’ve ever met. He makes you feel special but not to the point where it’s too overwhelming. He’s kind and he’s golden, he acts like you’re the only person he ever wants to talk to.
Watching him eat in your home is more of a pleasure for you than you’d like to admit. He compliments your cooking. He says he likes the bowl he’s got, which is a white one with pink flowers all over it that you bought at a market ages ago. He gets a string of cheese dangling from his lip and makes a dorky face trying to get it into his mouth without using his fingers. You think you’d like to kiss him. His lips all puckered and eyes crossed as he attempts to scoop the cheese into his waiting mouth.
You’re so busy laughing at him that you don’t notice your own bowl balancing precariously on the edge of the counter. When you go back to take another spoonful, your hand knocks the bowl and it goes tumbling. Right into your lap.
“Shit,” you curse, gasping when a dollop of hot pasta lands half on your thigh and half on your shorts. The sauce spreads like wildfire over the fabric of your sleep shorts. Why do things keep spilling on your clothes when James is around? It’s becoming a theme. Your horror grows when the bowl clatters to the floor and while it doesn’t smash, it spills mac & cheese everywhere. “Oh, shit, that’s embarrassing. Um.”
You bend to clean up your mess but James beats you to it.
“Here, let me,” he says. He slides off his chair and is quick to start scooping up the ruined pasta.
“Sorry,” you stutter, standing helplessly as James cleans up your mess for you.
“Don’t be,” James shrugs and looks up at you, his cheeks dimpling as he smiles kindly. “Go change, I’ll sort this out.”
You feel an overwhelming rush of gratitude and affection for him that makes you want to kiss him stupid. You don’t. Instead you go down to your room and find something to change into. Seeing as he’s already seen you in your sleep shorts, you suppose your checkered flannel pyjama pants aren’t really much worse. Nothing can be more embarrassing than what’s just happened, you decide.
By the time you’ve changed (plus spent a lot of extra time staring at yourself in the mirror, practicing your smile), James has cleaned up the spill and is washing your bowls in the sink. You decide then and there that you like him a lot more than you’d initially thought.
You emerge into the kitchen on light footing. You feel like a magnet being drawn to him like this. It’s bizzare, how much you want to be around him, no matter how shy he makes you. It’s something you’ve never experienced before. A rip in the ocean calling your name. You know of the danger but you don’t really care. You ignore the signs because he’s James and you don’t think he has a mean bone in his body. The warning signs basically don’t exist.
“Thank you, James,” you say, standing on the threshold of the kitchen.
James flashes you a big smile, up to his arms in soap and suds, scrubbing away at a bowl. He looks like a house husband. It’s almost more than your heart can take. “That’s okay. Hey, nice pyjamas. Y’look good.”
You can tell by his tone he’s not teasing. He’s being genuine, which is somehow worse than if he’d been teasing. Your smile is so big it hurts.
-
James is gonna kiss you tonight. He’s sure of it.
So far, all of his advances have gone well. Perfect, even. Unless you count the drink-spilling incident, but if it hadn’t been for that he’d probably never have found the courage to get you alone again.
He’s taken you out to lunch once. He’s been into your work twice, not including the first time. He’s invited you to his rugby game tonight, to which you’d said yes more enthusiastically than he’d expected. It’s not exactly a date, per say. But he’d wanted to see you today and he had a game and his coach would blow his head off if he’d missed it for a girl. No matter how lovely said girl is.
He’s waxed poetic about you to Sirius and Remus more times than he can count. He’s yet to kiss you. Sirius thinks this is beyond absurd.
“So you haven’t even kissed her yet?” He asks, incredulous. He’s in his rugby kit, hair up in braids, chugging a Gatorade though the game hasn’t even started yet. “What’s the hold up, mate?”
James groans. Sirius is yet to understand that some people don’t like to jump into the deep end before they’re ready. “I don’t want to scare her off,” he explains, straightening up from where he’d been tying his laces.
“Oh yeah, you’re reaaally scary, Prongsie,” Sirius drawls, dripping in sarcasm. He rolls his eyes and then clasps James’ shoulder. He’s surprisingly and uncharacteristically genuine when he says, “Look, I think she likes you enough that kissing her won’t scare her off.”
James blinks and looks up at his friend. “You think she likes me?”
Sirius makes a face. “Are you kidding? What other girl would want to watch you eat shit in a field with a dozen other sweaty guys?”
And he’s back, James thinks. Trust Sirius to be a sweetheart one second and as asshole the next.
Soon enough James is out on the field and he wants to say his mind is on the game and not you but he’d be lying.
For the first five minutes he’s distracted trying to spot you in the stands. Then the next ten minutes are spent trying not to stare at you. You’re with Remus, whom James is hoping isn’t relaying anything he’s ever said to him about you.
You look as though, to James’ extreme delight, that you’ve dressed up for this. In a pretty dress and a jacket that borders on being so big on you it swallows you up. Sure, you’d still looked pretty drop-dead in your pyjamas the other night. But this is another level of gorgeous.
The first chance he gets he bounds over to you, ignoring his coaches instructions to ‘stay with the team’. Most of the team has scattered for half time, anyway. James makes a beeline for you.
“You came!” He shouts as soon as you’re in shouting distance.
You grin and wave at him, brilliant and dazzling and so damn pretty in the early evening sun. You’re not far up the stadium and James is grateful he doesn’t have to climb too many steps — though he’d definitely climb all the way to the top row to see you if he had to.
“Hi, James,” you say, looking happy as a clam to see him.
James beams back. He wonders vaguely if he looks as lovesick as he’s feeling. He can’t even bring himself to care if he does. He’s lucky Remus is nowhere to be seen — probably loving on Sirius somewhere.
“Hi, angel,” James says, smiling around his words, which come out all sticky-sounding and fond. “I’m so glad you came.”
You beam and rock on your heels, looking one part shy and two parts delighted, your hands clasped in front of you like you’re not sure what to do now.
“Can I give you a hug?” James asks. “I’m so happy to see you, I might explode if you say no.”
He’s joking, of course. Or maybe not so much. You nod, a tad vehement, James notices smugly.
“Yes, please,” you say, breathless.
James steps into your space, heartbeat a mile a minute. You smell like flowers again. Lavender, he thinks. He definitely doesn’t smell anywhere near as good. “You’re sure I’m not too sweaty and gross?”
You shrug. “I don’t care, James.”
“You should. You look lovely.”
You make a noise that sounds half pained and half pleased and it makes James’ heart skyrocket.
“Can you just hug me?” You ask, a hint of desperation in your tone that’s actually much more than a hint but James is trying to be a gentleman. “Please?”
James thinks if you keep this up (by this, he means, acting as though maybe you like him as much as he likes you), he’ll die on the spot. He hugs you. For his own and your sake. Wraps you up in a big strong hug that’s so passionate he accidentally lifts you off the ground slightly. You don’t seem to mind. Your arms weave around his neck like they were meant to and you hook your chin over his shoulder and go all melty.
James almost moans. He can’t believe how perfectly you fit in his arms. How your body melds into his so nicely. He’s big and firm and loud and you’re quiet and small in your own way. But it works, and James is so glad it does.
“How was work, lovely?” He says into your hair. Your hair, which smells like coconut and something sweeter.
“It was okay.” Your voice is quiet but you sound just as pleased as he does to be wrapped in each other’s arms. “Lily says good luck.”
“Hey!” This is Sirius, jogging towards the stands and the, for want of a better word, lovefest. “Why don’t I ever get hugs like that?”
James releases you but keeps a good hold on your waist, twisting to meet Sirius. “What? You want one too, Pads?”
He lets go of you and holds his arms out for a hug, half joking but also half serious.
“Not from you!” Sirius scoffs, backing away from James like his hug will give him an incurable disease. “From your pretty cheerleader over there.”
Sirius plants his hands in his hips and nods his head towards you where you’re standing behind James. James doesn’t need to look to know Sirius has probably made you embarrassed.
“She doesn’t want to hug you,” he says dryly, in an attempt to save you from his obnoxious friend. “Where’s your boyfriend? You can hug him instead.”
Sirius scowls but it doesn’t last long. You brush past James and it takes him a second to realise what’s happening.
“I’ll hug you, Sirius,” you’re saying sweetly. “C’mere.”
And to everyone’s surprise, you hug Sirius. James finds it both endearing and highly annoying. Annoying because Sirius is smirking at him over your shoulder, his hands on your lower back. Endearing because it’s apparent you’re trying to make friends with James’ friends and he couldn’t be happier. The hug doesn’t last quite as long as yours and his, though. And Sirius doesn’t quite lift you off the ground like James did.
James watches, reluctantly fond, as Sirius pulls away and smiles at you all kind and un-Sirius-like.
“Thank you, m’lovely,” he says, swooping down to kiss your cheek. James shouldn’t feel jealous, because Sirius kisses everyone on the cheek, but he does anyway.
His jealousy quickly fades when you practically skip back over to him, all smiles.
“Sorry about him,” James says quickly. He’s very used to apologising for his friends.
“No, that’s okay,” you shake your head and then take James’ forearm in your hand unthinkingly. Heat licks all up James’ arm.
“Y/N,” he says, sounding more confident than he feels. “Do you—?”
The shriek of his coach’s whistle cuts him off. Time to get back on the field, it says. James groans, long suffering, throwing his head back like he’s been resigned to the worst fate in the world. You giggle and it makes it all better.
James’ team loses the game. It’s embarrassing and then it’s not, because you bound up to him afterwards and give him a hug even better than the one at half time, gushing about how good he was, telling him it doesn’t matter that he lost because he played amazing, anyway.
He sure feels like a winner as he walks with you to the parking lot, his duffel bag swept to his wrong side so he can walk as close to you as possible.
“I didn’t know you were so good.” You’re still gushing and James thinks he’s never blushed more in his life. “I mean, not that I didn’t expect it. You just never told me.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not Sirius,” James murmurs, feeling overly feverish.
“What? What’s that mean?”
James gestures vaguely with his hands. “I don’t go around bragging, is what it means. And I’m not that good. We’re just a local team, babe.”
It’s your turn to flush. Head to foot you go all shy. He thinks it’s the pet name that did it. And maybe the fact that he’s pointed out your gushing.
“Right,” you say to your shoes. “Well, I think you should play for the country, is all I’m saying.”
James laughs, delighted and a bit startled at your joking, but mostly just sick as a dog in love with you. “Really? Wow, you should tell my coach that, sweetheart. I think he’d totally agree.”
You pick up on his sarcasm and burst into giggles that make James’ chest want to explode. He realizes you’ve almost reached his car and puts his plan into action.
“Hey, did you drive here?” He asks.
You look up at him and James thinks he sees an inkling of hope in your pretty eyes. “No, I caught the bus. Why?”
“Did you want to go get Slurpees with me? I saw a 7/11 near your place the other night.” Then, because he really wants you to say yes, “I’m paying.”
Maybe it’s James’ wishful thinking but he’s pretty sure you light up like a Christmas tree. He really thinks if you keep doing things like this his head is gonna get too big for his body. You beam, looking like an angel on earth in the last fragments of sunlight, skin painted in an array of bleeding golds and pinks and oranges.
“Yeah, okay,” you nod. “Except you don’t have to pay for me, James, I have my card.”
James shakes his head, grinning as he fishes his keys from his bag. “Nah, don’t worry. Pretty girls get slurpees for free.”
He’s ninety-eight percent sure you freeze up like a block of ice as he unlocks his car. He has the generosity to not mention it.
The drive to the 7/11 closest to your place is quiet. But good quiet. James puts on the radio and is delighted when you start humming along like he’s not even there, your fingers tapping along the window where you’ve rolled it down, the wind brushing over your pretty face. He can’t quite get enough of you. Even just driving in silence with you feels like cloud nine. He’s enamored. Totally lovelorn. He’s surprised he can even drive straight.
When you get there he parks the car and then tells you to wait so he can open your door for you. He holds your hand to guide you into the 7/11. It feels like walking on air.
You both greet the guy at the cashier, you much more shyly, but James is learning you’re nothing if not polite. It’s practically empty inside, which James is glad for. How is he supposed to kiss you if there’s a bunch of strangers around? He leads you over to the slurpee machine with the excitement of a kid in a candy store.
“What flavour do you feel like?” He asks, grabbing a cup for you.
“Um,” you lick your lips and James wonders, not for the first time, how it would be to kiss them. “Grape, I think.”
“Grape?” He wrinkles his nose in pretense. “I’m more of a cherry guy, but I’ll let it slide ‘cos I like you.”
You giggle and flush, to James' extreme delight. He lets go of your hand to fill your cup for you, all the way to the top. He pops on a lid and a straw and passes it to you, cold condensation dripping over his fingers like raindrops.
“Thank you,” you say softly, taking the cup from him, your fingers soft as they brush his.
James gives you a big smile in place of a you’re welcome, then preoccupies himself with filling his own cup. He can feel your eyes on him all the while. Practically burning holes into the side of his face. His face, which feels like it’s on fire. He finishes filling his cup and shoves a lid on.
“Have I got something on my face?” He asks without looking at you, definitely teasing but he thinks you can take it.
You groan and punch him in the arm. Punch isn’t really the right word. It’s more of a brush of your knuckles. James hardly feels a thing. “James.”
James laughs, delighted at your reaction. “What?” He chuckles, picking a straw and turning to look at you. “You were—“
But you’re gone, turning into the candy section just in time for James to see the back of your jacket disappear. He follows you, grinning like mad.
“Y/N,” he says, sing-song.
“James,” you copy, with half the enthusiasm but twice the sweetness. He can almost hear you rolling your eyes.
James can’t help it, he snags your jacket in his fingers and pulls. You squeal as he twists you to face him, his hand coming to hook around your waist. Your slurpees get crushed in between your chests. James can feel the coldness of his soaking into his shirt but he hardly cares. You’re so close he could kiss you. He’d like to. It’s what he’s been trying to do all evening.
You’re gasping, breathless from the closeness and his sudden attack. “James,” you say again, panting. “What are you doing?”
James shrugs. “Nuthin’. Did you want some candy?”
You swallow and adjust your grip on your cup where it’s pressed to his chest. You’re staring at his lips. He’s staring at yours, too.
“No,” you say, your pretty eyes flickering from his eyes to his mouth and back again. “I don’t want candy.”
James licks his lips, partly because he thinks he’s about to kiss you, but mostly to tease you. “Then what do you want?”
Your eyes follow the slow movement of his tongue. “Um.”
“Do you want me to kiss you?” He asks, softer now. Less taunting. More sincere.
You stare at him. “We’re in the middle of a 7/11, James,” you chastise. But you don’t turn him down.
“So? There’s no one in here but us.”
He inches closer. His slurpee is probably spilling over with how much he’s squashing it but he can’t bring himself to check. He’s too transfixed by you, the hopeful look on your pretty features, eyes blown wide, lips slightly parted.
“Okay,” you breathe, hardly a word at all.
“Okay, what?” James says back, just as quiet. “I can kiss you?”
“Yes,” you nod once. Your hand ghosts over James’ elbow and he hopes you’ll grab it when he does finally kiss you. “Please.”
It doesn’t take much more convincing than that. He kisses you, and the very first thing he thinks is that he’s bitten off more than he can chew. Thrown himself in the deep end, chum for the sharks. Because it’s glorious. It’s better than he ever imagined, better than anything he could’ve conjured up in his mind. You taste like grape slurpee, sugary and sweet. You’re tentative like you always are, but it doesn’t mean you hold back. You let him kiss you as hard as he pleases, tilting your head up to meet him, gripping his elbow with your free hand like you never want to let go.
He kisses you firm but careful, passionate so you know how much he likes you but soft enough so you know he’s okay to go slow if you need to.
Soon enough the moment is ruined — James shouldn’t have expected anything less. The guy at the cashier is wondering aloud if James is planning on ever paying for the Slurpees now dripping condensation into both of your clothes and hands.
James sighs and goes to pull out his wallet, but not before pressing another kiss to your smiling mouth.
-
feedback and reblogs are very very appreciated! please please lmk if u liked it (but not if u didn’t ahahah) xx
#★ mal writes!#james potter#james potter drabble#james potter one shot#james potter fanfiction#james potter headcanon#james potter imagine#james potter x you#james potter x reader#james potter blurb#james potter oneshot#james potter fic#james potter thoughts#james potter blurbs#james potter fanfic#james potter scenario#james potter x reader fluff#james potter fluff#james potter x y/n#james potter x fem!reader#james potter x fem!reader fluff
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James would 100% procrastinate normal, everyday things. Need to pee? He’ll wait till the last minute because he’s too busy playing quidditch. Stomach rumbling? He forgot to eat because he was too busy reading a quidditch magazine, and now he’s too deep into it to stop.
#adhd james potter#james potter headcanon#james potter#james fleamont potter#james potter hc#james being james#prongs#moony wormtail padfoot and prongs#james potter textpost#james potter thoughts#the marauders era#the marauders#marauders#marauders era#james potter loves quidditch#marauders tumblr#marauders textpost#mwpp#mwpp era#james f potter#prongsie#hp marauders#sirius black#remus lupin#peter pettigrew
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maybe it's jus cause im high...but i feel like james potter would bite his partners...
no, but he definitely would tbh. like when he's kissing you he likes to nibble and tug on your bottom lip. and he definitely sneaks in a bite when giving you a hickey. or will nibble on your earlobe ugh!!! or you'll just be sitting down with him watching tv and he'll chomp down on your arm or something and you're just like??? james??? babe??? and he just laughs sorry, honey :)) taste so good :)) or when he's drunk!!! you'll try to take him to bed and he just bites your hand where you're trying to tug him. you show him the teeth marks in the morning and he feels horrible. kisses the red, purplish mark all day just sorry, sweetheart. really. i didn't meant to. fuck.
#—jo!#james potter#james potter thought#james potter thoughts#james potter x reader#marauders#marauder thought#marauder x reader
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