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#server!james potter x server!reader
mischievousmoony · 2 months
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𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚎
𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟺 ⟡ 𝚜𝚖𝚘𝚔𝚎 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚔
⟢ james potter x fem!reader
⟢ summary: modern restaurant au; neither you nor james smoke, but remus does . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁1.5k
⟢ warnings/tags: smoking, coworker!james, coworker!marauders, anxious!reader, ooc!remus (imo)
⟢ the new hire masterlist ⟡ main masterlist
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"Join me for a smoke break?" James asks, sliding into the space next to you as you punch in an order.
You glance at him through the corner of your eye as his hand reaches out and closes over the edge of the POS terminal, effectively encasing you between him and the wall on your right.
"I don't smoke," you answer as you substitute kale for arugula.
"Neither do I," James smirks mischievously, "but Nate doesn't need to know that."
Your finger pauses over the button for the truffle gnocchi as you turn your head to look at him.
"What?" you ask, your question punctuated by a soft, amused chuckle.
James' tone turns comically serious, "Why should people who smoke be the only ones who get intermittent breaks throughout the workday? It's preposterous, if you ask me."
You bring your hand to your mouth to stifle your growing laughter as you finish ringing in your order.
"What? I'm serious! If smokers can have smoke breaks we should be entitled to- to fresh air breaks," James invents, "It's only fair."
You turn your body to face James fully, resting your hip against the wood of the server station.
"C'mon, take five with me?" James directs a beckoning nod toward the back door.
You shift your gaze from James to survey the dining room, mentally tallying your tables. Once you find that all food have been served and all patrons have been checked on, you conclude that you can spare five minutes for James.
"Alright, I do have a few minutes to myself," you agree.
James beams at you, sidestepping to make some room, "Ladies first."
You shake your head jovially as you pass him, leading the way through the back hall. As you pass the staff room, James jogs ahead of you and lays a flat palm against the back door. He pushes it open, and the soft light of the setting sun hits you as you walk through.
"What a gentleman," you muse playfully, your eyes remaining on him as you pass.
James’ ever present smile grows.
“What can I say?”
When James lets the door close behind you both, you see that you’re not the only ones who needed a little break.
Remus, the head chef, stands with his back pressed to the wall with a lit cigarette hanging lazily between his lips.
“Remus!” James cheers, the sudden increase in his volume making you jump.
The boys’ hands clasp and they tug each other into a side hug.
You stand idly by as they exchange pleasantries, your hands finding themselves stuffed into the pockets of your apron.
In your opinion, Remus is somewhat intimidating. Your initial impression of him was formed by seeing him shout about a mistake on a ticket. You’ve since come to find out he does not shout as often as you feared he would, but a part of you is still on edge around him, as if one wrong move will put you on the receiving end of an outburst.
So needless to say, you’re slightly surprised at how warmly he interacts with James outside of the kitchen.
You’ve never seen Remus away from the line before. He seems a lot more relaxed out here, although, that might have to do with the dwindling cigarette between his lips.
“Your girl smoke?” Remus asks, suddenly putting the attention on you, “Or is James being a bad influence? Getting you to slack off, is he, sweetheart?”
Your eyebrows shoot up. You had thought your coworkers would stop referring to you as “James’ girl” once you had concluded your training with him. The fact that it's still said occasionally is something you don’t know how to feel about. Perhaps slightly embarrassed, and perhaps slightly warm inside.
“I’m not a bad influence,” James interjects, defending himself, “We’re simply taking a fresh air break.”
Now that James has coined that phrase, you can expect to hear it frequently pass his lips for weeks to come.
“A fresh air break?” Remus barks a laugh, “Here’s some fresh air for ya.”
Remus puffs a cloud of smoke in James’ direction.
James holds his arms out to the side, welcoming the smoke, even fanning it towards himself, “Nice try, mate. The more smokey I smell the less suspicious dear Natey will be. Keep it coming.”
You laugh at the exchange and Remus meets your eye, slightly smiling at your amusement. James follows Remus' gaze, looking over his shoulder at you.
"Want some?" James offers.
You take a step back, "I think I'll take my chances without it."
Remus shakes his head slightly as he drops his cigarette to the ground and puts it out with his shoe. "I better get back on the line," he says, reaching for the door.
"See ya, mate," James says.
At the same time, you emit a timid, "Bye."
"Enjoy your fresh air," Remus says through another spell of laughter as he disappears into the restaurant.
James meets your eye as the door clicks shut, and he notices the slight look of surprise painted on your face.
"What's that look?" James asks, stepping closer.
You shake your head, "Nothing, I- well, I didn't expect Remus to be so..." you trail off, but James seems to know what you mean.
"Yeah, well, he's secretly a big softie. You should see him when he's away from this place," James pats restaurant's exterior wall warmly.
You tilt your head slightly, "You've seen him outside of work?"
"Oh, yeah. Him and Sirius," James relaxes against the wall, "Some of the others too, but it's been a while since we've done a big thing. Not since before you started here."
James seems to want to make sure you know that you haven't been left out of anything, and you smile at his thoughtfulness.
"That's nice," you say simply, settling against the wall next to James.
He smiles down at you, "Do you think you'd come to something like that? If a bunch of us went out after work or something?"
James feels a little giddy at the thought of seeing you outside of work, but he doesn't show it, or really acknowledge the feeling at all.
You look a bit taken off guard at the question, your eyes widening a fraction, "Oh! I- yeah. Yeah, I'm sure that would be fun."
James gravitates a little closer to you, his shoulder nearly touching yours, "Yeah?"
He flashes his pearly white teeth at you, and you have to fight the urge to shrink away from him.
In the weeks you've worked here, you've grown quite comfortable around James. It's easy with him, his presence always so warm and inviting. Your heart doesn't race with anxiety when you talk to him like it still does with some of your other coworkers.
Not always, anyway.
Sometimes, when James gets close or beams at you with that perfect smile of his— both of which he's doing now— your heart rate picks up and something you haven't acknowledged yet flutters in the pit of your stomach.
You swallow hard. "Yeah," you repeat, your voice coming out a bit hoarse as you take in how his hair falls across his face and the way the golden light from the setting sun highlights his skin.
As much as you want to stay in this moment, you fear that any longer and you might melt, so you push yourself off the wall and step away.
"We've probably had plenty of fresh air," you say, "and we don't want to keep out tables waiting too long."
"Sure, of course," James nods, "but, um..."
James trails off, scratching the back of his neck like he does when he's feeling sheepish.
"But what?" you wonder, your tone soft.
"Find me if you ever need some more fresh air, yeah?"
You press your lips together to hide how wide you're compelled to smile, "Sure thing, James."
The both of you make your way back into the building, only to stop in your tracks as Nate crosses in front of you, exiting his office.
He furrows his bushy brows at the sight of you two. "Smoke break?" he asks.
You and James both nod, James a bit more inconspicuous than you.
Nate squints when his eyes fall on you, "You smoke, kid?"
"Totally," you respond, eyes darting to James.
"Oh, yeah she smokes. We did so much smoking out there. Tons," James says with a grin, his tone so exaggeratedly convincing it’s almost comical.
You stifle a laugh as James continues.
"Had to take the edge of, you know. Hectic day. You want to hear about it? I had this table–"
"Alright, alright," Nate cuts James off, waving his hands exasperatedly, "I get it, just get back to work."
"You got it, boss," James calls after him as Nate continues down the hall.
Once Nate is out of earshot, you catch James’ eye, and the two of you can’t help but burst into laughter.
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ellecdc · 6 months
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single mom lily x fem!reader?
reader works in an ice cream shop and cute little harry (im imagining hes like 4/5???) absolutely adores the place so lily brings him in for ice cream all the time and falls for reader bc she is just so good with harry
ok here's my attempt 😮‍💨 thought this idea was so cute though!
single mum!Lily Evans x fem!reader meet cute
Lily was very lucky and very grateful that Harry had been a generally easy child. He was so much like his father that, whilst it didn't translate into the romantic relationship most parents wished to enjoy, led to a wonderful son and the best co-parent a woman could ask for.
And because Harry was such an easy-going child, she was trying very hard to stay patient with him as she frantically texted with James.
L: James Potter, where in the buggering fuck is this ice cream place that has ‘spiderman’ ice cream!? J: LOL oh god sorry. It’s on the boardwalk near the ferry. L: Thank you 😮‍💨 J: He making a fuss? L: I think we may have been moments away from a stage five meltdown. J: Thoughts and prayers 🫡
One meltdown avoided later and they were finally walking into the quaint, family owned ice cream shop on the boardwalk by the ferry, just as James described.
“Oh no!” Harry cried dramatically, holding his little hands to his face.
“What is it, Haz?” Lily asked, looking around to see what could have possibly caused such worry in a five and a half year old. 
“The man!” He explained.
Which explained nothing at all to Lily, still looking around the shop in confusion.
“What man?”
“The man with the spiderman ice cream! He’s not here!” Harry cried, turning to his mum with tears magnified by his glasses as they began pooling in his eyes.
She was racking her brain for something to say to the boy when a bubbly voice trilled from behind the glass ice cream displays.
“Hello there! What can I get for you two?” You greeted the pair with a beaming smile. If Lily wasn’t so caught up with Harry, she would have likely taken a moment to admire your radiance.
“The man!”
Lily watched as your smile fell only slightly and you tilted your head in confusion. “Which man, sweets?”
“The man with the special ice cream! He made it after my favourite superhero!” Harry cried with a stomp on his foot.
Lily pulled Harry towards her as she offered you an apologetic smile.
“I’m so sorry, he came here with his father last week and I-”
But like a beautiful ethereal angel sent from Lily’s own personal heaven, you waved her off with an easy smile. “Not to worry at all, love. My dad is the better ice cream server, so I understand your disappointment, little man.” You empathised. “But!”
Harry perked up at that, standing a little taller as he looked at you expectantly. “He did tell me that a certain hero may be coming in to look for some special spidey ice cream; could that be you?” You stage whispered the end of your sentence to Harry, causing him to squeal in delight.
“Yes!”
“Oh thank goodness.” You said with a dramatic sigh. “I thought I was going to have to erase your memory for giving away trade secrets!”
Harry squealed in excitement again and shoved his face up against the glass casing to watch you start expertly scooping ice cream, completely unawares of his fingerprints and foggy breaths creating more work for his newfound hero.
“How many scoops, my man?”
“Five!”
“Uhm,” Lily interrupted, placing a conciliatory hand on her son's shoulder. “Maybe just two.”
“Mum!” Harry whined, but you just laughed.
“Sorry kid, mum’s the boss.”
Harry acquiesced with one more groan, but grinned when he saw the size of the scoops you were serving him.
“What about you, mama?” You asked after handing Harry his cone, watching as the boy made his way to sit at a table with his red and blue ice cream.
“Is it really spiderman ice cream?” Lily blurted instead of answering your very normal, professional, and polite question.
You barked a laugh, but Lily was pleased that your laughter was because you found Lily funny rather than at her expense. 
“Between you and me,” you whispered conspiratorially, resting your arms on the glass counter and your chin on your hands. “It’s just moonmist ice cream, but this batch used too much food dye, so instead of the normal light blue, pale purple, and pastel yellow, it turned out a little more…super.”
Lily looked back to her son, happy as can be with his super ice cream as he watched boats sail by in the harbour. 
“Brilliant.” Lily whispered as she turned back to face you, only to find you smiling softly at her already.
“Yes.” You agreed, though Lily wasn’t quite sure what you found brilliant. “So, what can I get you?”
“Oh.” Lily responded dumbly, looking hastily through the options before opting for two scoops of rocky road. 
“Fine choice, m’lady.” You said before scooping, once again expertly, the frozen treat onto a cone.
“Is that what you usually get?” Lily asked suddenly. You seemed surprised at her question as your eyebrows migrated to your hairline and you looked up to consider her.
Lily hoped to all hell that her blush wasn’t as furious as it felt.
You smirked before your eyes flit back up to hers. “I’m more of a strawberry girl, myself.” You replied quietly, shooting Lily a wink.
If her blush hadn’t been furious before, she was certain it was now. 
Lily paid and Harry shot you a “thanks ice cream lady!” as they headed towards the exit with their ice creams in tow.
“You’re welcome, little man! Stay super!” You said with a wave.
“I will!” 
“Hope to see you and your mum here again soon.” You said quieter this time, sending Lily a kind albeit shy smile. Lily was certain you’d be seeing the two of them here again.
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luveline · 1 year
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Hey! Can you do something for rockstar!james x photographer!reader??
for you!!
You're standing behind a barricade and it's so fucking cold you could cry, but you have a job to do and no time to go back and get your jacket. Your arms are tired with the fatigue that comes with carrying your camera and its expensive lens around all day. 
At least you'll be paid well. And you get to see celebrities for the evening, picture perfect, handsome and gorgeous and famous enough that your breath catches when they stop for photos no matter how many times you've photographed some of them before. 
"Sirius!" The photographer next to you calls. "This way! Smile for us!" 
You follow the shouting and wait for the face connected to the name to smile. Sirius Black, front man of potentially the most famous indie band in Britain currently, poses without really posing. He's effortless. 
James Potter walks beside him. He seems more genuine, which isn't to say Sirius Black is fake, but James smiles at the photographers like he knows them. His gaze locks in on you for a second and you can't help the schoolgirl chills that race down your spine. He's breathtakingly handsome, brown skin glowing under the bright lights above, his hair glossy and curled as if each individual ringlet has been held and twisted in the hand of an angel. He's ridiculous in how pretty he is, truly.
Without thinking, you say something unlike yourself. Photographers are allowed to compliment the people they're shooting, but it feels clumsy on your tongue. "Hey, James," you call, not too loudly, almost hoping it'll get lost in the crowd, "smile for Getty, handsome." 
James doesn't hesitate to turn to you and smile. You take a photo, not your best, and drop your camera away from your eye. You give him your most genuine smile, hoping he thinks you're pretty (stupidly) while knowing you look ragged. 
"Thank you," you say. 
"You're welcome," James says, making a small hand gesture to Sirius. He approaches you, to the annoyance of the other photographers. "Hey, we've met before, haven't we?" 
"Yeah, we have, I take photos at all the events like this one. Where's Mr. Lupin?" 
"Mr. Lupin?" he asks, smiling. "Mr. Lupin's ill. He'll be alright." 
"It feels strange to call you by your first name, not knowing you." 
"You just called me James. And handsome, if I heard correctly." 
Your heart amps suddenly into racing speeds, as though only now realising that you're having a conversation with James Potter, and that he's grinning at you like you're friends, or better. "Sorry," you say. 
"So you take it back?" he asks, smile wavering. 
"Of course not, you're more than handsome, I– but I– I'm not trying to cat-call you." 
James' pretty smile moves back into place. He pushes his glasses back up the length of his strong nose with his marriage finger, and the blazer he wears bulges against his arm muscles from the movement. Your hands start to shake —you're a photographer, meant to take photos, not interview the talent. You have no idea what to say to him, worse, you've no idea why he's talking to you. 
"Are you cold?" he asks worriedly. 
"Wha– no, not really," you say. 
"Are you sure? You can have my jacket, shortcake, it's no trouble."
"It is trouble? You're about to be on TV," you say. 
James shoves his hands into his pockets. "I can sacrifice my TV appearances for the sake of a very cold looking, very pretty girl. It's selfish, really," he reassures you, "I like being complimented. I want you at the next event to do that again, not in hospital recovering from hypothermia." 
"James, can you stop flirting for five minutes?" Sirius asks. 
James nods at you apologetically and you take it for a farewell, catching up with his bandmate to ascend the stairs into the venue. The night moves forward slowly, taking photos of more celebrities, none as handsome and flirty. You're stopped short by a man in a tuxedo who looks like the servers from inside the show.
"Hi, this is for you," he says. 
You frown. "Are you sure?" 
"I was told to give it to the cold-looking photographer with a blue lanyard. You look cold." 
It's a hoodie. It's Marauders merchandise, a black hoodie in your size with a monogrammed drum set over the breast. You slip into it and worry it's a consolation present; maybe he'd thought you were a fan. 
It's not until you slip your icy fingers into the pockets and pull out a slip of paper you realise otherwise. 
Gorgeous, shivering photographer, 
Please ring me. I'm not above begging. I'd really like to see that photo. Love, James. 
P.S. I'm not kidding, (unless you don't really think I'm handsome and were extending some professional chivalry as Sirius thinks, then please ignore this) call me! :3 <3 
Your hands shake for the rest of the evening, despite the warmth of your new hoodie.
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heaven4lostgirls · 1 year
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But we need a vampire! Au with Siri cause IDK why I finished Tvd for the 8th time and I'm crying. I need more angst maybe Katherine's trauma with Y/n or Reader...???
Midnight rain
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Sirius Black x Reader
A/N : ty for this request!! it really was lovely to write however I haven’t watched TVD in ages so it’s not exactly canon compliant but it has some elements!
Sirius was born into the original family, the strong and purest line of the Black family was a weight Sirius was accustomed to. Having been a vampire for over thousands of years and having lost many of his loved ones along the way he was sure that the only way he would find happiness was to gain more power.
Most vampires in your town knew of the original family but had never met any of the members which is why it was a shock to you to receive a letter asking for your attendance to a ball the Black family was hosting.
You fell a part of the Black line as you were turned by Sirius Black, you were close with James Potter who was the first to be turned by Sirius as you both aimed to live a somewhat normal lifestyle until humans speculated why you never seemed to age where you both would then pack up and move. It was hard but it kept you both alive.
The return of the Black family to London was a shock amongst all of you, James kept in touch with Sirius through letters but it was odd for him to return home after so long.
As you reached the Black family house in your evening gown you were welcomed by many compelled young vampires who were working as servers, you accepted a small glass of champagne before you made your way inside.
Sirius stood on the stairs alongside his family in clean crisp tuxedos and gowns.
Sirius was not suprised to see you walk into the ball however his jealousy had sparked when he saw you accompanied by James. He had spoken to James on multiple occasions telling him that he wished for you to be his, but he knew it would never be able to happen.
Your family was not pure-bloods and nor were they high up within the vampire kingdom however because you were turned by an original it made you stronger and more important than others that came after you.
Unbeknownst to Sirius’ knowledge you had fallen in love with the elder black brother thousands of years ago when you both had the honor of meeting, he however had changed you in a fit of range and sub-sequential guilt. He had left your hometown the day after he had brutally murdered your family and it had taken you well over a decade to mourn the loss of your family and get over your hatred for Sirius.
When you met again, Sirius was alive and well in Chicago in the 60’s, you waved him down as you sat at the bar in your flapper dress and when the butterflied first started you believed that something was wrong with you, maybe vervain in the water? But you would have been able to taste it considering you had built up a tolerance.
Sirius and you spent a good night together getting lost within each others bodies, only for him to disappear the following morning without a note of acknowledgment that he knew who you were.
After all of that it was better for you to ignore your feelings for the Black heir as you knew it would only inevitably lead to pain or worse, your death. Which is why it was a shock to you to receive an invitation to this ball, why would he want to see you after all these years? Never in contact with you and never seeing one another after the 60’s so why all of a sudden was he in town and hosting a ball with the rest of his fucking family?
As your inner monologue continued to cuss out so Sirius and his annoyingly handsome looks you were interrupted by the likes of Barty Crouch Jr who asked if he could have your hand to dance.
You nod to James that you’ll be okay as he smirks and goes before leaving your side to walk to Sirius who looks close to breaking the banister as his knuckles go white as his pressure increases.
He watches as you and Barty dance together and he can’t help but feel a sense of disappointment flow through his body as you look so happy and content in another man’s arms as he pines for you.
He makes it his mission to intercept you just after the song ends and you look at him in half part indifference and other parts sullen, it seemed that your heart did not seem to believe what your mind was telling it. Let. Him. Go.
Sirius smiles as he bows in front of you, you curtesy out of politeness before you attempt to move away from him. He grasps your glove covered wrist in his hand and pulls you closer to him.
“I expected a better welcome than that my love”
You scoff indignantly at his claim, “why would i welcome you any differently than anyone else lord black?”
Sirius doesn’t seem to understand the hostility in your tone as his brows furrow
“I assumed you would be happy to see me?”
“I would be happy to see the same man who left me alone in bed 50 years ago without a note or explanation?”
He sighs and looks almost embarrassed
“I planned on coming back, I swear it, i had gone to get us breakfast but by the time I had returned you had already left”
“I do not care for your excuses Sirius, I heard about you turning Katherine”
Sirius almost looks shocked at your confession
“She is in the past-“
“And so am i Sirius, I will not wait around another 500 years for you to decide that I am enough. You left me once, you can do it again”
Sirius feels his heart drop the moment those words leave your mouth.
Why? Why can’t he do one thing right.
He planned this ball for you, a chance for you both to reconnect and have a chance as a normal couple.
He didn’t mean for it to go downhill so fast, he needs you to understand how much he cares for you.
As he comes out of his anxious haze he realizes you’re no longer standing in front of him and he spins around in panic looking for you only to realize that you’ve left the ball and he has no idea how to find you.
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psychedelic-ink · 2 years
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Hi everyone! This will be our first ever server collab and right about now you might be wondering what is Mailcarrier May???? Let me ask you this, wouldn't you love it if Peter Parker delivered your mail? or Draco Malfoy brought you your amazon delivery? Well, we think so too and hence we decided to write our favorite characters in a postman au!! 📪
If you wish to join the event and server let either @psychedelic-ink @leydileyla or @scandalous-chaos know :)
masterlist and schedule of fics and how to join under the cut!!
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RULES FOR WRITERS WHO WISH TO JOIN
1) After noticing the lack of mail carrier (gender neutral term for postman) content we decided on making our first ever collab centered around postman AU’s!
2) You may write for any genre you want, the plot of the fic is also completely up to you. The only rule is that either reader or character must be a mail carrier!
3) character x reader or character x character both are allowed but characters must belong to either MCU/DC or the Harry Potter fandom!
4) All fics will be posted starring on the 16th of May!
5) Each character can be picked twice!
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SCHEDULE:
MONDAY MAY 16TH
•  let me follow by @psychedelic-ink | steven grant x gn!reader - fluff
• kisses under a sky full of stars by @thesecretwriter | bucky barnes x fem!reader - fluff 
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TUESDAY MAY 17TH
•  @ddejavvu - james potter
• five times draco delivered mail and the one time he didn't by  @leydileyla | draco x hermione
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WEDNESDAY MAY 18TH
•  everybody falls in love somehow by @tetsukentona | steve rogers x fem!reader - angst
•  a sort of addiction by @saintlike78 | tasm!peterparker x fem!reader - smut
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THURSDAY MAY 19TH
•  norse gods and magazines by @scandalous-chaos- loki x fem!reader - fluff
•  to the girl I love by @softtdaisy- tasm!peter x reader
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mischievousmoony · 3 months
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𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚎
𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟷 ⟡ 𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚒𝚗
⟢ james potter x fem!reader
⟢ summary: modern restaurant au; it's your first day on the job and james is your trainer . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ 2.4k
⟢ warnings/tags: is profanity a tw pls lmk actually, coworker!james, coworker!marauders, accidentally wrote an anxious!reader, trying out that headcannon where remus is a bit of a hothead, only lightly grammar checking this series bc i just wanna have fun w it
⟢ the new hire masterlist ⟡ main masterlist
note: here, bc i gotta chill and write something light for once. i think this will be an ongoing fic. also im not beating the mentioning tea in ever fic allegations anytime soon how does this always happen.
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“Welcome in! How many in your party?”
“Oh! No, I’m Y/N. It’s my first day.” Your fingers pitter patter nervously on the host stand.
“You’re the new waitress!” the bubbly hostess exclaims, “I’m Mary! It’s so nice to meet you. Stay right there, I’ll go get the manager.”
She disappears into the busy restaurant, leaving you rocking back and forth on your heels nervously.
Mary, you repeat the name in your mind, recalling what she looked like so that you wouldn’t forget who the name belongs to. You had a thing with learning names—you just hated forgetting them. It felt so humiliating to have to ask someone to remind you of their name. One time, you worked with someone for months and their name lived on the tip of your tongue the entire time. Luckily, they quit before it ever came up.
“There she is! Ready for day one?” The manager, Nate, greeted as he followed Mary back to the host stand.
Not in the slightest. You always hated first days, with all the pressure to make a good impression. Not to mention it’s only the start to the slow climb over the learning curve. You hold out hope that everyone will be as nice as Mary seemed, it would make today a lot easier.
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” you say, straightening out your black shirt. The dress code for this job was essentially the color black from head to toe. You used the lack of a formal uniform to your advantage, expressing your personal style as much as you could within the confines of business casual.
Nate clapped his hand together, “Right, first up is a tour and introductions. I have all your paperwork already, right? So, after that we’ll get you in an apron and find someone for you to shadow.”
“Sounds good,” you try sounding cheery and excited, only for you to start worrying about whether or not you sound too eager.
“So, front of house is up first. You’ve already met Mary, our lovely hostess—“
Marry wiggles her fingers at you as a playful wave while she takes a phone call, “Yes, we do takeout!”
“You don’t need to worry about the host stand, but I’ll show you the book so you can get a feel for the sections and how we operate. We’ll only give you a small group of tables at first…”
You try to commit everything Nate says to memory, wanting to do well here. You really need this job. Rent isn’t cheap, especially without roommates. And you really don’t want a roommate. Plus this place pays their servers well, so you want to be good at it. You really really need to listen to Nate if you’re gonna be good at this.
But, jeez, Nate seems like he loves to talk. He’s going on and on and on and you’re fighting back a yawn when Mary swoops in like a hero, telling Nate she needs the book back to make a reservation.
“Sure, I think you’ve got the idea of it anyway, right?” Nate asks.
You blink, “Oh, yeah. Sure do!”
Shit, you think. You totally zoned out.
“Great, let me show you to the bar,” Nate says, already walking away.
Another reason why you really want to work here was for the ambiance. It’s a contemporary place with a grungy interior, all while remaining slightly upscale for restaurants in this area. Another upside was the live music. If you’re gonna be working, at least let it be somewhere nice with good music.
“Sirius! New server’s here,” Nate interrupts the bartender who’s in the process of mixing up a cocktail. You introduce yourself with a shy smile as you study him, trying to make a permanent link between his name and face in your mind.
Sirius the bartender—mischievous gray eyes and long black hair. He wears half of it tied up in the back of his head, surly to avoid having it fall in his face while he mixes drinks.
He puts the shaker down and rolls up the sleeves of his satin black dress shirt, “Hey there, doll, y’alright? Natey not being too boring for ya?”
“Alright, back to work, Sirius.” Nate says, sounding snappy.
You follow Nate to the back of the restaurant.
“This is the kitchen—“
“Who the fuck rang in scallops? We’ve been 86 scallops all fucking day.”
“Don’t look at me! Was probably James, the bloody dolt.”
“This seems like a bad time,” Nate spins on his heels and ushers you out of the kitchen quickly, “Whoever trains you will get you acclimated to the kitchen later. That’s Remus, just so you know, head chef.”
You nod, not having anything else to say as you begin to worry everyone won’t be as nice as Mary.
You want to take a moment to commit Remus’ name to memory like you had Sirius and Mary’s, but you only caught a glimpse of him. Still, you were sure you wouldn’t forget who the name belonged to now that you’ve had such a lovely first impression.
Next, Nate takes you down a hall, past the bathrooms, to show you his office and the staff area complete with a rickety table for breaks and some lockers. In the corner are two plastic bins with fading sharpie scrawled across the front of them: CLEAN and DIRTY. Nate reaches into the “clean” bin and picks out a slate gray apron.
He hands it to you, and you try to tie it the way the server in the kitchen had it. Nate starts leading you back out into the dining room as you continue to fiddle with the ties.
As you dart around the restaurant, the “fast-paced environment” detail from the job listing is really starting to materialize, and this was only the tour.
“Right, now where are my bloody servers.” Nate mutters under his breath, “Slacking off by the host stand, of course.”
There’s two servers at the host stand: a girl with red hair hanging in two braids on either side of her face and a tall boy with glasses. They’re huddled with Mary, looking like they’re sharing hot gossip.
You and Nate make it to the host stand at the same time as the other server from the kitchen.
“Hey, team!” Nate says, but it falls on deaf ears.
“Chef’s fuckin’ pissed at you,” she says to Glasses.
“What I do!?” He asks, whipping his body out of the huddle. Mary and the red-haired girl keep talking without him.
“Thinks you rang in some scallops,” she shrugs, blowing a strand of blonde hair out of her face.
“Why would I do that? We’re 86.”
“Yeah, but I forgot,” she says nonchalantly, leaning her back against the host stand.
“And you let him think it was me!?”
“Oh yeah, obviously. Anyway, I should probably go tell my table they’re not getting their scallops.”
“Servers!” Nate interrupts loudly, finally making your four new coworkers quiet down. You feel all eyes suddenly train on you. You smile through the uncomfortable sensation of your stomach lurching.
“We have a new member joining our team today. Please give a warm welcome to Y/N.”
“Hi,” you flash a smile to the new faces in front of you.
“Welcome!” The red-haired girl returns a bright smile of her own, “I’m Lily, I love your earrings.”
“Marlene,” the blonde says plainly.
And finally—
“Hiya, Love. I’m James,” the one with glasses says coolly as he rests an elbow on the host stand. He exudes confidence, and it makes you want to shrink into yourself.
You try to study the three of them to commit names to faces.
Lily—fiery red hair, kind eyes, and a fair complexion with a sprinkling of freckles.
Marlene—you like the way her blonde hair is cut into a shag. She also kind of intimidates you, so you really want to remember her name.
James—glasses, tousled dark hair, very attractive. That last part probably wasn’t a necessary attribute to help you remember his name, but it was true. He has a tall, toned frame that would’ve made him seem intimidating if not for the way his eyes transformed into the physical embodiment of sunshine when he smiled. Were your hands getting sweaty?
“Alright, great. Introductions are done, now I need someone to be a trainer.” Nate claps his hands together, waiting for a volunteer.
“I have to go give a table bad news, so-”
Nate cuts Marlene off before she can hastily run away, “Wasn’t gonna ask you anyway.”
James is eyeing you, sizing you up it seems, when he pipes up, “I’ll do it.”
Marlene snorts. “Weren’t you saying an hour ago that Nate better not dump the-”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Marls,” James says through clenched teeth, glaring sideways at her.
You felt like quitting on the spot, thinking that you were obviously a burden on these people. Being a burden to James, specifically, felt particularly embarrassing. It had your face heating up.
“Great! Thanks James,” Nate says, “Y/N, you’re in good hands. I’ll be in the office if you need anything. The rest of you, get back to work!”
With a reluctant groan from Marlene and a “nice to meet you” from Lily, the small crowd disperses. All except for you and James.
“I’m sorry you got saddled with training me.”
“Aw man, no! Marlene was just-” James cuts himself off with a sigh, “Fine, I didn’t think I’d want to train today. But I changed my mind, so don’t feel like you’re a burden or something, alright?”
James seems pretty genuine, so you digress. Not without a joke first, though.
“Just remember you asked for it later when you get tired of me.”
“I have a feeling that’s not gonna happen,” James says, a certain playfulness dancing in his eyes.
As a new party walks into the restaurant, James leads you toward a nearby order station so that you’ll be out of the way.
“So, you’re gonna wanna forget everything Nate told you,” he says as you walk, “I’m gonna show you how we actually run this place.” He shoots a boyish smirk over his shoulder.
“That shouldn’t be very hard, I don’t think I was awake for any of it,” you admit with a chuckle.
“Ooh, I’m gonna like you!” James swings his body around when you reach the order station, “We love Nate slander here. Behind his back of course.”
“That’s worrisome,” you say, trying to find a comfortable way to lean against the terminal. You end up just standing up straight, “He seemed kind of nice.”
“You ever work in a restaurant before?” James leans toward you, looking coy, and you do your best not to shrink away from him.
“Yeah, I was a hostess.”
“You ever been friends with any of your old managers?”
You think about it for a minute, “No.”
“Exactly,” James leans back and you feel your shoulders relax at once. “He’s alright, but he’s still the boss. Plus, it’s good for server morale to have a common enemy.”
James earns a laugh from you, and he smiles brightly as if it’s the biggest honor.
“So, when do you get off?”
“I’m closing, I think.”
“Nate has you closing on your first shift? Diiiiick move.”
“He asked first and I told him I could handle it.”
“He shouldn’t have asked.” James insists, then he waves it off as if deciding what’s done is done, “That’s alright, you’ll be able to stick with me. But in light of that, I’ll make today easy for you. You can watch while I take orders, and I’ll show you how I ring them all in here,” James pats the POS terminal, “And you can help me get bread and refills out to tables mostly. I won’t make you take orders today ‘coz it’s a bit rowdy in here, but maybe if we’re sat with an easy table we’ll see how you’re feeling.”
You nod along, not having anything to say, not that you had the chance. James is a fast talker and you’re beginning to notice how full of energy he is. It’s a tad amusing, and it’s beginning to show on your face.
“What?” James asks, eyes flicking down to your growing smile.
With a slight shake of your head, you say, “You a big coffee drinker?”
“Y’know, I get that a lot,” James reaches into the underside of the order station, and pulls out a canned beverage, “But I’m partial to these.”
Your face scrunches up as James takes a sip of what you like to call battery acid in a can.
James makes a big show of acting refreshed, emitting a long sigh when the can leaves his lips, “Not your cup of tea, I take it?” James raises an eyebrow.
“My cup of tea would be actual tea. Or coffee-“
“Coffee’s any better?”
“A million times, yes.”
“I beg to differ.”
“You can’t be serious.”
James’ eyes light up like you’ve just handed him a prize, “You’re right, that’s the bartender. ‘Ave you met him?”
It takes you a moment to register what he means, and then you’re rolling your eyes, “Oh, I’m gonna hear that joke a lot from you aren’t I?”
“You’re gonna hear that joke all day from everyone, Love, it’s a house favorite.”
As you’re about to quip back, Lily squeezes between you two to ring in some food.
“James, enough flirting. Some of your tables are starting to look pissed,” she says, tapping on the screen quickly to get the order in.
“I’m not flirting,” James protests, but the wink he shoots you begs to differ.
Lily takes a break from noting modifications for a sandwich order to look at you, “James is always flirting, you’ll learn to ignore him.”
James is looking at you over her shoulder, shaking his head and swirling his index finger by the side of hers, mouthing “she’s crazy.”
As Lily resumes removing tomatoes from the order, she catches James in the act and swats his hand away, “Seriously, James, they’re starting to flag me down because they haven’t seen you in ages.”
James clutches his hand close to his chest. His eyes flit between you and Lily, a mock-horrified look on his face that communicates “see, I told you she’s crazy!”
“Who?” he asks.
“Your tables, you dunce,” Lily hisses, but there are notes of humor in her voice.
James bares his teeth as grimaces and checks his wrist for a watch that doesn’t exist, “Bollocks, look at the time. Come Y/N, I’ll show you how to turn an angry table into a happy one.”
You have to stifle a laugh as you follow James to his tables, mentally adding him to the list of reasons why you really want to work here.
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mischievousmoony · 2 months
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𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝
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modern restaurant au, and you’re the newest member of the team! tags: james x fem!reader, server!james, bartender!sirius, chef!remus, server!lily, server!marlene, hostess!mary, ooc!remus, hothead!remus, server!reader, anxious!reader, coworker!marauders, modern au, restaurant au, muggle au
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⟢ part 1. welcome in it's your first day on the job and james is your trainer
⟢ part 2. james' girl after training with james for a few weeks, people have started calling you his
⟢ part 3. graduation james finds the conclusion of your training bittersweet
⟢ part 4. smoke break neither you nor james smoke, but remus does
⟢ part 5. silverware you and james complete side work at the end of your shift
⟢ part 6. drinks james asks you to stay for some drinks after closing time
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more coming soon
265 notes · View notes
mischievousmoony · 2 months
Text
𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚎
𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟸 ⟡ 𝚓𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚜' 𝚐𝚒𝚛𝚕
⟢ james potter x fem!reader
⟢ summary: modern restaurant au; after training with james for a few weeks, people have started calling you his . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁1.3k
⟢ warnings/tags: coworker!james, coworker!marauders, slightly anxious!reader, not proofread
⟢ the new hire masterlist ⟡ main masterlist
note: i hate seafood but i keep putting it on my fictional restaurants menu ? kept this one pretty simple so i could get it out there <3
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"Crab cakes, go." James says, eyes darting up from the menu he's holding to look at you from across the rickety staff room table.
You don't miss a beat, describing the dish as you would to a customer, "The crab cakes are one of our most popular appetizers. They're pan seared and served with sofrito escabeche, a zesty blend of onions, bell peppers, and tomatoes—so I highly recommend them if you're looking for something tangy—and they have a to die for berbere aioli drizzle."
"Tell me more about the berbere aioli. What is that?" James questions, playing the part of a curious customer.
"The berbere aioli is a spicy-chili sauce that I'd say is just shy of medium in terms of spice level. It complements the crab cakes really well, but you could always order it on the side if you're not too sure about it."
"That's my girl," James praises, "You're a quick learner, you know that?"
"I don't know about that," you protest, looking down at your hands that lay politely folded on the table in front of you. You try to mentally will yourself not to blush at James' approval.
"It's barely over a week since you started and you know this thing like the back of your hand," James argues, gently tossing the menu down as he leans back in his chair, "And there's so little time to sit and study here."
You have a funny look on your face when you meet James' eyes again, eliciting a gasp from him.
"You've been studying the menu outside of work, haven't you?" he squints, speaking in an accusatory tone.
"Shouldn't I?" you ask, and the fact that it's a genuine question has James clutching his chest over his heart.
"No! You never think about work unless you're getting paid!"
"How else am I supposed to learn this whole menu in a timely manner?" you cross your arms defensively.
"Who said anything about a timely manner, Love. I was weeks out of training before I had the whole thing down."
"Yeah, well you're more..." you trail off, trying to find the words.
"More what?" James is quick to sound defensive.
You put your hands up as a sign of innocence, "Just laid back. You're a go with the flow kind of guy. As opposed to me, who's more-"
James interjects, "Stuck in your head," nodding along without a doubt that that's what you were going to say.
You look at James, a bit of surprise and alarm swirling around in the pit of your stomach. He was spot on, but how could he possibly be? He barely knows you, after all.
"What?" James seems to sense your confusion, "I've noticed the turmoil in those eyes of yours. You're doing it right now."
You look bashful, so James graciously changes the subject.
"Whatever, just promise me you won't ever think about this place when you're off the clock again!"
"Promise," you agree, despite his request being impossible.
For whatever reason, your mind seems to always be on work. Not even in a stressed, overthinking way like you'd expect from yourself. It seemed to be little random tidbits from work infiltrating your mind throughout your days. Like sometimes, you randomly think of a joke James said once. Or you see something funny and want to show it to him. Or you think about how nice James is when you mess something up.
Okay, maybe they're not so random after all.
"What're you thinking about?" James interrupts your thoughts.
Just as you're about to start stammering through an excuse, Mary pops her head into the room.
"There you guys are!" she says, "I just sat you guys. Table six."
"Thanks, Mary. We'll be right there." James responds.
"I had Peter bring them some waters because I couldn't find you guys for a while—oh, he's back today by the way, did you know?" Mary asks, but doesn't stick around for James to answer, "I have to get back. Table six, guys!" Her voice echoes the reminder as she's already disappeared from your sights.
James shakes his head at her, amused by the way she jumps from one thing to the next without taking a breath.
"Peter?" you question as you and James begin to stand from the table.
"Yeah, he does bussing and some food running, a helping hand for us servers, really. He was on vacation." James explains as you follow him out into the dining room.
Your eyes fall on table six, a table for two that beholds two kind looking older ladies.
"You think you can handle this?" James juts his chin in their direction.
"Yeah," you say confidently. You have already taken the lead on some tables while James supervised. So far, it's been going well. Your first table you had to ask James to help answer some questions—maybe that's why you wanted to learn the menu so quick, it made you feel sheepish—but after that one time, James hasn't had any notes.
"Alright, I'm gonna check on our other tables then."
"Wait," you gave yourself whiplash with the way you craned your neck swiftly to look at him, "You meant handle it alone?"
"Yeah," James looks down at you reassuringly, his eyes filled with warmth, "You can do it."
"Uhh-? No, what if I-"
"Get out of that pretty little head of yours," he interrupts, "You've got this."
The sincerity in his tone incited a bit of confidence in you.
"Okay, okay. Okay sure," your shaky voice became a little more steady with each word, and you started walking to the table.
"Wait!" James carefully takes hold of your wrist. The progress you had made in easing your nerves is out the window.
"You'll need this," James slides his server book out from his apron and held it out to you.
"Right," you say quietly, smiling as you took it from him.
His hand fell from your wrist as he bid you good luck. He watches you for a moment as you greet the table, a proud gleam in his eyes.
Marlene appears beside James, a tray of waters and soft drinks balancing on her palm, "Your girl's taking orders on her own now?"
"Just the one table for today," James replies.
Marlene hums approvingly and saunters off to deliver the drinks.
James registers her words only when she's already left, "Wait, my who now?" he asks the wall.
His furrowed brows relax as he decides he kind of likes the sound of it.
After checking on your other tables, getting refills and putting new food orders in, James notices a congregation of his coworkers at the host stand so he decides to join in.
"Who's that?" Peter asks, swinging a rag over his shoulder.
Lily follows Peter's gaze to you, who's delivering some bread and butter to table six.
"James' girl?" Lily questions, "She started last week, she's been doing pretty well so far I think."
"Any reason in particular we're calling her that?" James decides to ask on his approach, having heard that phrase twice in under ten minutes.
"Ah, well, she hardly talks to anyone else." Marlene drawls.
"Eh, she's just a bit skittish," James provides an excuse for you, "it's kind of cute."
Lily and Mary share a look.
James continues, "She'll get used to you guys soon enough, just be nice." He really only says the last part to Marlene.
"I am nice," she defends.
"Well, you're not mean," Mary offers and Marlene scowls at her.
James chuckles, and turns to Peter, "How 'ave you been, mate?"
Peter opens his mouth to share details of his vacation, but he's interrupted.
"What are you all doing up here?" Nate hisses, appearing suddenly as if out of thin air, "You know how bad it looks for nearly my entire staff to be slacking off in the front of the restaurant?"
Before anyone can disperse or defend themselves, Nate continues, "And you're supposed to be training, Potter. Where's your girl?"
"Me?" your choked voice rings from behind him.
Everyone peers over at you, standing there shellshocked and blushing with a pitcher of water in your hands.
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mischievousmoony · 1 month
Text
𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚎
𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟻 ⟡ 𝚜𝚒𝚕𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚎
⟢ james potter x fem!reader
⟢ summary: modern restaurant au; you and james complete side work at the end of your shift . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁2.1k
⟢ warnings/tags: coworker!james, coworker!marauders, anxious!reader, not rlly proofread
⟢ the new hire masterlist ⟡ main masterlist
note: dropping lore in this part ig
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"I don't think this restaurant is fancy enough for this to be necessary," you huff, polishing what seems like your millionth spoon.
You're sitting at the rickety break room table, polishing silverware and rolling sets of them into cloths. James is across from you, looking at his reflection in a butter knife.
"No one who eats here is going to care if there are a few water stains on their spoons," you grumble. You're in a bit of a bad mood, this task being the only thing keeping you from going home.
"Nate wants this place to be fancier than it is. Always has," James replies, neatly arranging his knife with the other utensils on the cloth in front of him.
"Always, huh?" you wonder, "Has he always been the manager?"
"As long as I've been here."
"And how long is that?"
"Ah," James pauses in the middle of rolling his napkin, counting in his head, "Technically five years."
You stop in the middle of polishing a fork, looking up to meet James' gaze. "What? Really?" you ask.
James shrugs as if it's nothing, responding, "Started as a busser when I was seventeen. The only person who's been here longer is Remus."
You don't understand the relevance of the comparison, pointing out, "Well, he's older."
James looks at you puzzled, "Remus and I are the same age."
You put the fork down entirely, gaping at James. "Remus is twenty-two?" you ask, your tone conveying your shock.
"Yeah," James says slowly, furrowing his brows, "You didn't know that?"
"No. He looks at least a few years older."
James tilts his head side to side, pondering your comment. "Maybe a little," he admits. "That kitchen wears him down."
You look puzzled as you straighten out the fork you had dropped down on the table, thinking about the revelation that still doesn't quite add up to you.
"If he's our age how in the world is he already a head chef?"
James looks as if he's trying to recall the answer, but comes up short.
"You'd have to ask him. He was hired before me and I guess I never thought to ask that."
"He was a head chef at seventeen?" you ask, eyes widening as your shock doubles.
"No! No, he just worked in the kitchen. Think he was head chef by twenty, though."
"Oh..." you trail off, thinking that makes much more sense than your initial impression. But not by very much. "Still, wow. What about everyone else?"
James' eyebrows raise curiously as he starts polishing yet another spoon.
"What do you mean?"
"They've been here how long?" you clarify.
"Ah. Sirius started about a month after I did. Did you know he started as a server?" James shares the details like it's hot gossip.
To you, it basically is. You can't imagine Sirius doing anything besides bartending at this restaurant.
"Really?"
James smiles at the way your eyes light up in surprise and slight amusement. "Yeah," he confirms. "He absolutely hated it, but doing that he got to train with the bartender before him."
You nod understandingly. It makes sense, you suppose. Bartenders don't just appear out of thin air. You either have to work your way up the ranks or receive formal training, and if you had ever given it any thought, you would have assumed the former.
It dawns on you that you haven't given much thought to your other coworkers at all. Besides what you've naturally found out over the handful of weeks that you've worked here, you don't know much about anyone besides James.
"And the others?"
James blows out some air, thinking, and he takes two rolls of silverware and begins using them as drumsticks against the table. You smile a little at the action.
"Whenever I became a server I recommended Pete for my old busser job. That was probably four years ago."
James had told you stories about him and Peter before, but you wonder how long they've actually known each other.
"How did you know Peter?"
"Known him since primary school."
"Huh," you express your surprise quietly, and James continues on.
"The next hire was Marlene," James smirks as he recalls something. "Actually, she's the reason Lily and Mary were hired."
"Did she recommend them too?"
James chuckles, shaking his head as he explains, "No, Marlene was always complaining about too much testosterone in this place. I think five.. six months after she started, she told Nate that a customer said that they thought management must be sexist because of the lack of girl hires."
"Did someone actually say that?" you ask skeptically.
"No," James laughs, "He totally bought it though cause he hired Lily and Mary a week later. Worked out great for them in the end. You know they go to uni in the city? They’re both here to support themselves through it.”
Your bottom lip finds itself between your teeth as you think about how long everyone has worked here. They’ve all had years to get to know each other. You have already been feeling like an outsider, so learning this just amplifies that tenfold.
James puts his makeshift drumsticks away when he notices you getting lost in thought.
“What’s on your mind?”
Your eyes flash to him, startled out of your train of thought. Shrugging, you try to brush it off and return to your duties to the silverware.
“C’mon, I always know when you’re getting lost in that head of yours,” James says with a teasing yet affectionate tone.
You purse your lips, knowing the chances of James letting this go are slim.
"I just… I don't really know much about them at all I guess. Do they..." you trail off, apprehensive to admit your insecurities.
"What?" James probes gently, softening at your hesitation.
"I’m worried they don't like me,” you admit.
"What!? Why? You’re great! Why wouldn’t anyone like you?” James says it earnestly without a hint of hesitation, and that alone makes you feel a bit better.
You keep your hands busy with the silverware, your eyes focusing intently on the water stains you polish away so that you don’t have to face James as you explain.
“I feel like I haven’t made much of an effort to get to know them. I was nervous, I guess, to talk to new people. Now I’m even more nervous because it’s been so long and I haven’t even tried. They’re going to think–”
“Hey, hey, hey,” James stops you from snowballing into a self-deprecating ramble, placing a hand over yours across the table, also stopping the way you’re polishing a spoon to death.
He dips his head down to try to meet your eyes, which are trained intently on the table. “No one thinks anything,” he says patiently. “Actually, you know what I’ve heard? I’ve heard them say that you’re kind. Maybe a tad shy, but that’s not a bad thing!” The last few words tumble out in a rush, James being worried that you’d take it negatively when he really finds your timid nature so endearing.
Your gaze slowly shifts to meet his eyes. “It’s hard for me to warm up to new people,” you admit, your voice low.
James absentmindedly strokes the back of your hand with his thumb, “You got on with me just fine.”
“You’re different,” you say before you can give it much thought. You would’ve bit your tongue if you had.
“How am I different?” he asks, his eyes twinkling with something you can’t quite place.
“I-I don’t know you just are.”
It’s true, you’re not sure why but after your first day you were already comfortable with James, more than comfortable if you’re being honest. He quickly became your favorite part about this job.
He simply accepts your answer. Normally, he’d say something witty or teasing, but he finds himself at a loss for words.
The conversation fades into silence, neither of you knowing how to proceed, both overwhelmed with confusing feelings.
James can’t stop looking at where his hand rests over yours, not knowing how to retract it. Not wanting to.
Meanwhile, you search your brain for something to say, something that would change the subject. You don’t feel the need to keep talking about this anyway. Although, you’re not sure if you feel better about the situation with your other coworkers or if you’ve just been distracted from it.
“So, five years, huh?” you start.
"Technically," he emphasizes. He slowly retracts his hand as the conversation takes on a more casual tone.
You had barely even noticed his hand there with how natural it felt, but now that it’s gone your hand almost feels cold. You distract yourself by rolling more silverware.
"What does that mean?" you ask.
"I, er, pursued other things for a little while. Didn't work out, so I ended up back here."
You can’t help but wonder what he means, so you ask, "What things?"
James stammers, him now the apprehensive one.
"Sorry,” you say quickly, “I don't mean to pry."
"No, it's okay,” James waves off your worries, “I was playing rugby."
“What, like, professionally?” you ask, not expecting him to say yes.
“Er, yeah," he admits, twirling a butter knife in between his fingers.
You freeze. “Wait. Seriously?”
“Yes,” he chuckles airily.
He notices how your mouth is slightly agape, twitching as it forms the shape of words which never leave your lips. He can tell you’re wondering what happened, but you’re too polite to ask.
“I hurt my knee,” he continues, purposefully avoiding the specifics, “so ended up back here.”
Your face crumples in sympathy. "Oh. Oh, I-I'm sorry," you say, genuine compassion in your tone.
“It’s fine. I’ve come to terms with it," James says honestly. His career was brief— barely even got a chance to start— and while he'll always wonder what could've been, he's not angry about the way his life is turning out.
"So what about you? What would you be doing if you didn't work here?" James suddenly asks you.
"I never went to uni," you say, thinking of Lily and Mary— your age and likely almost done with their studies. "I would've liked to. I don't even know what for."
"You still could."
"Yeah, maybe," you say tentatively, rolling you're last set of cutlery. "That's all my side work. Want me to help with yours?"
"No, you get out of here, I'll be alright," James assures, not wanting to put extra work on your plate, recalling how annoyed you've been with this task.
You nod, standing from the table to collect your things from your locker. You bid him goodbye as you sling your bag over your shoulder.
"I'll see you tomorrow, James."
"Bye, love," he says fondly, waving with a fork in his hand as you go.
On your way out, you pass Sirius, giving him a small wave and a barely audible "goodnight" as he joins James in the break room.
"Night, doll," he calls down the hall as he turns into the room.
Sirius has a wide, knowing smirk on his face when he locks eyes with James.
"Rolling silverware?" Sirius asks, his tone dripping with his amusement.
James shrugs, "Yeah, so?"
Sirius tilts his head, chuckling, "I thought your side work was to prep garnishes today."
"Ah," James fumbles with some silverware as he responds, "I finished that ages ago. So, I offered to do Lily's side work."
"Oh, did you?" Sirius says with mock surprise.
"Yup. Just doing a favor for a friend," James grins innocently.
"Or trying to get some alone time with that work crush of yours."
"I do not have a work crush!" James quickly defends, feeling the heat rising to his cheeks. He almost feels guilty, Sirius is at least right about the alone time part. James still misses having you by his side as a trainee, but after you're conversation today he feels bad about stealing you away from your other coworkers.
Sirius raises his hands in the air, "Alright, mate. Whatever you say."
"You're a prat. Why don't you come help me with this?"
Sirius looks incredulous at the suggestion, "I'm not the one who volunteered to do extra work!"
James rolls his eyes, picking up one of the many forks he has left. But truth be told, he didn't quite mind having to do the extra work— spending time with you made it well worth it.
Sirius snorts at the sudden lovesick look on James' face when he gets lost in his thoughts, and makes a mental note to wager a bet with Remus tomorrow on how long James will last.
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