sanctuary at the potters’ ⟡ part 2 ⟡ part 3 ⟡ part 4 (hiatus) ❤︎⏾
after your parents cross the line, you and your older brother sirius find sanctuary at the potters'
the new hire (hiatus) ❀
modern restaurant au, and you’re the newest member of the team!
mornings ✮❀
you work at brewology, the most popular cafe on campus—and somehow, a charming new customer has woven himself into your routine
neighborly intentions (hiatus) ❀
you've made the big move from the US to the UK. are you ready for a new life, a new city, and a new... hot neighbor?
steamy fantasies (coming true) (ongoing) ☁︎
a collection of smutty oneshots featuring your pervy roommate (who's utterly obsessed with you)
hozier series
angel of small death and the codeine scene
james's favorite kind of high is the one he gets off using you
one shots & blurbs
haywire holiday ❀
you have trouble sleeping when you unexpectedly have to share a bed with james on your holiday
speak up ✮❀⏾
james, who thinks you speak perfectly fine thank you very much, defends you against those who don't
cherries ❀
you want cherries, and your boyfriend doesn't mind getting a little messy to get you what you want
taking care ❀
your childhood best friend is very affectionate when he takes care of you while you're sick
shoelaces ❀
your boyfriend walks a drunk you home
sweet serenity ✮❀❤︎⏾
a cruel prank leaves you drunk and alone on the streets of london and you find safety at your boyfriend's flat
building blocks ❀
your husband and son are equally obsessed with you, and james finds out what your little one does when he's not so nice to you
i know you ❀
you have an unexpected night with james, a childhood friend that you're surprised still remembers you
another round
james gives you courage to have a drink for the first time... but one turns into a few
wrapping paper ❀
you and james wrap christmas gifts for your kids last minute
five more minutes ❀
you and james steal five extra minutes together before waking up for the day
double zero ✮❀⏾
a guy makes unwanted advances on you at a frat party, and the president comes to your aid
roses and pledges ❀
as president of a fraternity, your boyfriend has pledges at his beck and call. so naturally, he tasks them with handing you valentines roses throughout the day
frat house ❀
you meet james' friends on an unexpected visit to his frat house, and sirius is set on embarrassing james however he can
maybe movie night ❀
you show up at james' frat house to a party when you're expecting a quiet date night
missed you ☁︎
james is your long-distance boyfriend, and when you finally see him again, he doesn’t make it two steps past the front door before he’s ravishing you
steamy fantasies ✮☁︎
james can't keep you off his mind, or his hand out of his pants (part of a collection, see series)
quiet kitchen confessions and growing up ✮❀❤︎
time passes, people hurt, people heal, and confessions of love come when you least expect them
is there something in my teeth? ❀
you do a flirty tiktok trend with your boyfriend
guardian angel ✮❀⏾
you save a very woozy (and very smitten) james’s life
how to evict a spider ❀
you're deathly afraid of spiders, but luckily james is here to save you
boyfriend material ❀⏾
you're wholly unprepared to get your period the morning after your first night spent with james (who's a total sweetheart)
attitude adjustment ☁︎
james bends you over his knee once he's finally had enough of your bratty attitude
accidentally perfect ❀
frat boy!james is more ready than you think to have a baby, and maybe you are too
home workout ❀
stuck inside during a snowstorm, you help james replicate his workout at home
summary: reader has a wet dream and her pretty boy helps her.*
requested: yes | | no
misbehaving; poly!marauders ｡ﾟ❁ུ۪ °ₒ
summary: reader is aching and Remus and Sirius find out what that aching is, which gets reader and James in trouble.*
requested: yes | | no
look at this mess you made ｡ﾟ❁ུ۪ °ₒ
summary: james is eating the reader out but her pretty moans makes him feel all tingly inside so he humps the bed.
requested: yes | | no
manners ｡ﾟ❁ུ۪ °ₒ
summary: james has had his eyes on you for awhile now but you being his best friends daughter and him having a wife & child obviously restrained him. but on his birthday, there you were, at his birthday party. your pretty thighs on display, glistening as the sun hit them. your skirt flowed behind you, revealing your ass and white laced panties for a moment. fuck, he thought. he knew it was wrong to think about his best friends daughter this way. but how could he not? you were gorgeous, absolutely mesmerizing. he didn’t know if he wanted to fuck your pretty brain dumb or hold you in his arms to protect you from the big and bad people out there. himself. ( READER IS OF AGE )*
Hello. Vox here. 30's. She/They. Married. Requests are OPEN!
↝I write all types of fanfiction. Dark toned, smut and kink, super dark and possessive, the list goes on. You can find various themes ↝here↜. That is my new masterlist, my old one is attached.
↝What will I not write? Underage reader! Won't do it. I will call you out for it. I have a strict policy will not write minor readers so please respect that. Other than anything is really a go.
↝I ask that you please not steal my work and post it elsewhere. I cannot emphasize enough to please not do that. I do not consent to you taking my work in any way shape or form and posting it elsewhere. Reblogs are always welcomed and appreciated. Comments and loves are always welcomed as well!
↝I do not consent to minors reading or interacting with my blog or my works. ↜
↝You can pretty much guarantee anything you click on to read here has smut so treat it as NSFW. Always read the trigger warnings before you read. Again. I do not consent to posting my work anywhere. Do not steal my work. And again, no minors interacting or anything with my work. You will find yourself blocked and I won't be nice about it.
↝Characters I will write for Aaron Taylor-Johnson.↜
✭ Sergei Kravinoff - Kraven The Hunter ✭ Sergeant Allen "Ize" Isaac - The Wall ✭ James Frey - A Million Little Pieces ✭ Ford Brody - Godzilla ✭ Count Aleksey Vronsky - Anna Karenina ✭ Ray Marcus - Nocturnal Animals ✭ Ben Leonard - Savages ✭ Tangerine - Bullet Train ✭
Divider & Header Credit to @nyxvuxoa
went scavenging through tiktok to find this edit, to like it, save it, repost it, and put it on my story, just to find out their account got banned, so now i’m just sad 😞
DILF!James Potter, who somehow manages to make every quiet evening in the café you work in feel like the world paused just for him, walks in like he owns the place. Tall, broad, effortlessly magnetic, he has that kind of presence that makes your chest tighten and your brain short-circuit in the worst, most delicious way.
His hand is wrapped around his son’s tiny fingers, guiding Harry gently through the empty tables. The boy looks like a whirlwind passed through, curls sticking up in every direction, glasses sliding down his nose, cheeks rosy with excitement.
They always come during the evenings. It’s almost unfair how gravity shifts in the café becomes the moment they step inside, like the world orbits around them. Or maybe it is just James. He has that kind of presence, warm and grounding, the kind that makes you think fuck, how is a man allowed to be this attractive while ordering ice cream?
And it’s always the same order; one scoop of chocolate in the small blue bowl — Harry’s. You grab it without thinking, muscle memory by now. James only ever gets a coffee, sometimes, on the days he looks a little more tired than usual. But today, it’s just the ice cream.
Your thoughts are absolutely not on the dessert, though. They’re on his hands, his forearms, the way his shirt sleeves are rolled up just enough to show tan skin and veins that have no business looking that good.
James Potter was no ordinary man. Not even close. He was the kind of attractive that made people double-take without meaning to — the kind that made your coworkers go quiet the first time he walked in, whispering behind the counter about the dad with the glasses. He was a single father who co-parented, though you had no idea if he was currently single or not.
Even now, months later, your coworkers still find themselves stealing glances at him whenever he walks in, pretending it’s nothing. The girls by the window don’t even bother hiding it, their eyes openly following him as though he’s a dangling piece of meat.
And yet, despite all that attention, despite the small crowd of silent admirers he unconsciously attracts, he remains simply James Potter; a kind, steady regular who comes in with his son, orders the same chocolate scoop, and smiles at you as though you were just another part of his routine.
Not that it matters. You know you have no chance. He’s at least fifteen years older than you, impossibly out of reach, and far too alluring. He’s just a customer, a devastatingly attractive one whom you absolutely should not be imagining in ways that have nothing to do with ice cream.
You set the bowl in front of Harry, and the kid doesn’t even pretend he’s going to wait. He digs in instantly, the spoon clattering against the ceramic as chocolate smears across his cheek like paint. It pulls a laugh out of you before you can stop it, he’s just impossibly sweet and adorable.
James watches his son with this soft, unguarded tenderness that hits you square in the ribs every single time. Like nothing else in the world exists for him in that moment except making sure Harry doesn’t drop the bowl or fall out of the chair.
And it shouldn’t be allowed — how good he looks like this. How natural. How utterly at ease in a role that would make other men fumble.
He glances up at you, expression gentle, and your heartbeat runs faster. “Come on, Harry,” James says softly. “Say thank you.”
Harry beams at you. “Thank you, miss y/n!”
You crouch slightly to meet his eyes. “You’re welcome, sweetheart.”
James’ eyes flick up to you, warm and easy. “Thank you, love.”
It isn’t even meant to be flirtatious; you’re sure he tosses that term at anyone without thinking. Yet it hits you straight in the chest, making your poor heart race. His smile is slow and warm, a little too knowing, and you get the unsettling sense that he’s fully aware of the effect he has on you.
He’s probably just being polite, but your brain is far too busy screaming holy fuck to care about logic.
You straighten quickly, because you can feel the heat crawling up your neck. “Of course. I’ll see you both next time.”
Harry waves with sticky hands as they head out. James places a light hand on the door for you as he leaves, something so small yet so fucking irresistible you almost groan.
The door shuts. The evening air slips into the café. They are halfway down the street when you realize you have been staring at the window like an idiot.
You sigh, muttering under your breath as you wipe the counter “Fuck me, he’s too hot.”
The next week drifts by slowly, the kind of slow that makes every shift feel twice as long. By the time evening hits, the cafe’s nearly dead. Only one couple sits near the window, finishing their last bites and murmuring quietly to each other.
You move between tables with a damp cloth, wiping down surfaces and pretending you are not counting the minutes until he walks in. It has become a problem, honestly.
The way you perk up when the door opens is humiliating. You hate how obvious it must be to your coworkers. You cannot help it though. James Potter does something to your brain, something indecent and horribly pathetic.
You’re bent over a table when the bell rings. You straighten immediately. He walks in alone this time, tall and gorgeous in that unfair way, hair mussed like he kept running his hands through it, tie loosened around his neck.
No Harry.
Your heart kicks up.
“Hi, Mr. Potter,” you greet, smoothing your apron even though it’s already perfect.
He takes his usual seat near the corner and gives you a soft smile. “The usual?” you ask gently, hands resting on your hips.
“Yes, please.” He taps his fingertips lightly on the wooden table, a small habit you have memorized without meaning to.
“No little Harry today?” You chuckle softly, though a fucked up part of you is already thinking oh god, it’s just him tonight.
“Oh, no,” he replies. He leans back a little, looking relaxed in a way he rarely gets to be. “He’s sleeping over at his uncle’s place.”
You smile. “Well, when you see him, tell him I said hi. I’ll be right back with your coffee, Mr. Potter.”
It takes barely two minutes to fix it exactly how he likes; rich, dark, a splash of cream. You try not to think about how embarrassing it is that you know his preference by heart, right down to the way he always warms his hands around the mug before taking the first sip. You bring it over and set it in front of him.
“Thank you.” His fingers curl around the cup, voice warm and a little tired, somehow making the simplest words sound devastatingly attractive.
“Of course. Let me know if you need anything else.” You turn to walk away, trying to seem professional even though your body is buzzing with awareness of him.
You barely take three steps before he clears his throat and calls your name.
You stop instantly and look over your shoulder, brows raised.
He sits there with the cup in his hand, cheeks faintly flushed, eyes soft and a bit nervous.
“Excuse me if this is an odd question,” he says, letting out a tiny laugh as if he is embarrassed. “But… when do you leave?”
Your pulse jumps.
“At six,” you answer slowly, stepping a little closer. “May I ask why?”
***
“Oh—fuck…” You gasp, head tilting back while your eyes struggle to stay open. It’s pathetic how desperate you feel watching the way he fills you, thick and deep, every thrust making your stomach tighten.
Your hands slide up your chest, squeezing your breasts because the extra pressure sends sharp, dizzy waves of pleasure straight to your core.
James’ low chuckle vibrates through you. He looks down between your bodies, watching with a hunger that makes your skin burn as his cock disappears inside your soaked, greedy cunt.
One of his hands is planted beside your head for balance, the other gliding over your waist, your stomach, your ribs—touching you like he owns every inch.
“Listen to you,” he mutters, voice rough and amused. “Being so loud when the flat upstairs is probably awake.” His hand tightens suddenly at your hip, dragging you closer so he can bury himself deeper. The shift forces a shocked, breathless cry out of you and your back arches helplessly.
The angle is obscene. You feel every inch of him, and oh god, James Potter is massive.
Your thighs tremble as you try to breathe through it, cunt clenching around him with no shame. James moves his hand slowly up your stomach again, the heat of his palm making your insides twist even tighter.
Then his fingers snap against your cheek in a sharp, unexpected slap.
A stunned cry tears from your throat, the sting blooming across your face as your mouth falls open.
Before you can even catch your breath, James hooks his thumb between your lips, forcing them wider, pressing deep into the soft flesh inside your cheek.
“That gets you going, doesn’t it?” he says, tone thick with dark satisfaction. “Taking it like a filthy little thing who doesn’t know how to behave.”
Your cunt tightens violently around him, betraying you instantly. A broken moan falls out around his thumb, and your hand scrambles down between your legs, fingers circling your clit with frantic, needy pressure.
James laughs, quiet and breathless, biting his bottom lip as he watches you come apart for him. His thrusts get harder, sharper, punishing.
“Look at you,” he murmurs. “Touching yourself for me like you’re starving for it. Bet you’d love it if someone heard. Bet you want someone to hear how fucking desperate you are.”
You choke on another moan, hips grinding to meet his every push, completely undone.
“It feels… fuck—James, it feels so good—”
A satisfied sound rumbles in his chest, his forehead dropping to yours like he wants to feel every noise you make.
“Yeah?” he whispers, almost proud. “I know it does.”
Heat rushes to your face, your breath catching on a broken sound that absolutely gives you away. You try to rein it back in, but you can’t. Your body keeps chasing him, pushing up into every demanding roll of his hips like you’re starved.
A strangled cry escapes you, and your fingers grip him tighter, shivering as the heat coils tighter in your stomach, spreading outward, dragging every part of you along for the ride.
James’s grin is dark, filthy, like he’s enjoying every helpless, desperate second of it. “That’s it, baby. So fucking good… can you feel it building? Yeah, I know you can.”
Your moans hit new heights, loud, messy, shameless, and James leans closer, his hands roaming over you with total ownership, his mouth pressing against your skin as he whispers, low and hot.
“You feel so fucking perfect,” he growls, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “So wet… so tight… how about I fill you up properly? Give you a baby? Make you mine, yeah? Make Harry a big brother?”
Your breath catches, a broken moan tumbling from your lips. “Yes… please… James…”
He chuckles low and dark, tugging your hair lightly to tilt your head back. “Such a good girl,” he murmurs, a possessive glint in his eyes. “I’ll fill you up so good,”
Without warning, he flips you over, pressing you down onto the mattress with ease.
angel of small death and the codeine scene
james potter x fem!reader
hozier series with @twovialsofamortentia @prettydaisygirl @lostrologyy
summary: james's favorite kind of high is the one he gets off using you ⊹ 6.0k
warnings: smut mdni, unprotected p in v, rough/hate sex, fingering, choking, hair pulling, manhandling, degradation, hickeys/bruising, power struggle, nipple play, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, biting, blood (minimal)/blood tasting, spitting, squirting, blow job/face fucking, drugs (coke, pills), smoking, alcohol, ex bf!james, mean!reader, mean!james
· ─ ⋆⋅✶⋅⋆ ─ ·
James chokes on the stench of sweat, smoke, and booze as soon as he steps into the flat. He pops his jacket collar, turning his nose up at the sea of bodies, swaying and crashing together to the music, all high on some pharmaceutical cocktail as they let their drinks slosh onto the floor. His disdain doubles when he steps in something thick and sticky.
He knows he shouldn’t be so judgmental. He’s here too. And he’ll probably do worse than pop an unidentified pill and grind up on some girl he won't remember tomorrow. But he’s had a shitty day, so he’s in a shitty mood, and he’s content taking it out on a bunch of shitty strangers.
Maybe he’ll be nicer when he gets something in his system, he thinks, stepping into the crowd.
A familiar mass of leather and long hair almost sweeps right past him, only noticing James at the last second. His hand flies out, hanging off the worn denim on James’s back to stop his own hurried step.
“Oi, look who finally showed up,” Sirius cheers over the music, stumbling into James’s side.
James quirks a brow, catching Sirius by the elbow to steady him. Sirius’s pupils are blown wide, his grey irises hardly visible, and he’s got a wild look about him.
“Moony’s got shit lined up in the bathroom, coming?”
“Yeah, I’m just…” James trails off, scanning the flat for a place he can get a drink, but his eyes land on something else he wouldn’t mind getting lost in. “Gonna get a drink,” he mutters, pushing past his friend to follow you, thinking, what better way to blow off some steam than to torment his ex? After all, there’s no sweeter buzz than that of your cruel tongue.
You and James have a messy past. Years of on-again, off-again toxicity. Locked in a competition to see who could hurt the other worse. It was brutal, but the make-up sex and the following weeks of sweetness were euphoric. You were perfect for each other when you behaved. It was something rare, something people dreamed of and wrote stories about. The promise of that always drew you back in. But eventually, not even that was enough anymore.
Everyone breathed easier when it ended. Supposedly a clean break. Done for good, you had both assured all your friends. Only for something even more fucked up to be born from it. All that’s left now is torment and nights you can’t get back.
James feeds off of it.
Unaware of James’s pursuit, you’re dancing with Marlene in the living room where all the furniture has been pushed against the walls. You’re talking loudly to her about the guy giving you bedroom eyes across the room. He’s all tanned skin, toned muscles, and wandering eyes. Very much your type.
You tilt your head when Marlene scowls, not sure where the conversation went wrong. You quickly realize it’s not you that’s the problem when large, strong hands close around your waist, tugging you back, pressing you against his lean body.
At the sudden hit of that familiar woody cologne, your face twists into a scowl much like Marlene’s. You knew he’d be here tonight, but you had this naive hope he would leave you alone for once.
He pulls you into a dance, his lips brush the shell of your ear as he guides your hips to sway in time with his. “Hey, angel,” that voice you know all too well whispers, the pet name that used to reach your ear with adoration coming out like a taunt.
“Absolutely not, Potter,” Marlene yells at him. He shoots her a wink.
“You look hot tonight. Who’s that for?” he continues, opting to ignore Marlene from that moment onward.
You don’t dignify that with a response, but it only gives him the space to keep talking. And if you know one thing about James, it’s that he never shuts the fuck up.
“Let’s see. It was gonna be him, wasn’t it?” he asks, correctly pointing at the man across the room. “Wanna know how I can tell?”
“Not particularly,” you say, sounding disinterested, but you let him guide your hips to the beat. He heard you talking to Marlene about the bloke, is all, and he’s come up with some bullshit that you don’t care to hear.
“I can tell because they always look like me,” he drawls, full of cocky assurance that he’s the bloody blueprint.
When he nips at your earlobe, you spin on your heels, plant your palms flat on his chest, and give him a rough shove. You hear Marlene cackle behind you.
“Oh, fuck off, Potter!” you snap.
James lets himself be pushed, his back slamming into some other guy’s, who spins on his heels and tells James to “Watch it!” James doesn’t seem to notice or care, grinning from ear to ear like you’ve just planted a kiss on him, not nearly shoved him to the ground.
You almost shout at him, pick a fight about how his arrogance is just one of his many faults. But you’re far too sober to have a conversation with James. You’re too sober for this party. So, you take Marlene’s hand and escape towards the kitchen.
You barely make it out of the room before James wraps his hand around your forearm.
“Come on, angel, I just want one dance with you.”
Before you can say something either incredibly mean or incredibly foolish—like agreeing to go with him—Mary appears.
“Er, what the hell? Thought Sirius was s’posed to wrangle him?” she says, balancing three plastic cups between her two hands.
James barks out a laugh. “There was a plan? That’s cute.”
You, on the other hand, are a little offended. “Sorry, was there a plan?”
Did your friends think you were that incapable of making your own decisions? That pissed you off to no end, and sort of made you want to make a bad one just to spite them.
Mary shoots you an apologetic look, handing you your drink, only for James to pluck it straight from your grasp.
Before he can take a sip, you knock the drink right out of his hands. Your goal is to soak him in the sticky substance, but your aim is off, and the cup splashes uselessly onto the floor, forming a puddle of wasted booze at your feet.
“Dude,” an exasperated voice chips in, one of the hosts of the evening emerging from the kitchen.
Frank glares daggers at James as he rips a few paper towels from a roll.
“Hey, that’s on her, mate,” James tells him. He snakes an arm around your waist, looking at you when he adds, “Just goes mad when she’s around me, no helping it.”
“Didn’t I tell you to fuck-”
“Fuck what?” he interrupts, leaning so close he could kiss you. Your friends collectively groan.
“Fuck off!” you shout, not backing down. A moment passes between you where you just breathe each other’s air, heated stares unwavering like it’s a contest.
“Holy shit, can you two get a room?” Frank groans, dragging the paper towels over the spill with his shoe. He looks more than fed up with both of you. It’s a look you’re well acquainted with—you’ve seen on countless friends’ faces each time you’ve gotten tangled up with James.
But you refuse to let that happen tonight.
And James, who sees your face harden with determination, knows it’s going to.
“No need,” you grumble to Frank as you slip from James’s grasp.
James gives you a ten-second head start, clapping Frank on the shoulder on his way as if he had just performed as a stellar wingman.
“See ya later, buddy,” James says to him cheerily, and Frank can only shake his head.
After you and James are long gone, Frank sighs. “Mission failure, eh?”
Marlene shakes her head. “Those two seriously need to work on their fucking issues.”
Mary snorts. “Yeah, fucking issues.”
When James catches up to you, he captures you by your waist, steering you away from the dance floor you were attempting to disappear into.
“Oh, what now, James?” you huff as he leads you down a hall. Sounding very reluctant for someone quickening her step to match his pace.
“I thought I was Potter. Or is that part of the show for your friends?”
“There’s no show, you ass,” you say as he stops outside a door, running his fingers along the top of the frame until he finds what he’s looking for. A key.
“Is this Frank’s room?” you ask as James ushers you inside.
James follows you closely. Such a thorn in your side, this boy.
“He did say to get a room. Basically an offer,” he shrugs. Besides, leaving the key on top of the door frame? James figures that kind of foolishness earns him whatever mess he’s about to make with you.
“You’re such an entitled prick,” you laugh in disbelief. “Bloody presumptuous and-”
“Ooh, big word. Good job,” he taunts, pushing you against the door as it closes. Your back hits the wood with a thud, and there’s a click as the lock is turned.
“Fuck you.”
“Yeah, fuck me, glad we’re on the same page,” James murmurs, hands caressing your sides as he presses open-mouth kisses down your neck.
“No!” you snap, shoving him off of you. He stumbles a few steps into the room. “I told you last time, I’m done with you.”
Silent laughter rumbles in James’s chest. “You told me that the last three times, actually, and yet…”
You clench your jaw. It always goes like this—he pisses you off just to offer himself up for you to take it out on. So far, he’s been incredibly successful at pissing you off.
“I meant it last time,” you say, but it’s lacking conviction. Because maybe there’s a small part of you that can’t get him out of your head, no matter what you do or how long it’s been. Maybe there’s a small part of you that remembers how good he always makes you feel. A part of you that’s also been appreciating how hot he looks tonight, and how good his hands felt on your waist. And maybe, just maybe, that part of you isn’t all that small.
James smirks because he knows he has you right where he wants you. He’s always been able to read you. You swear his eyes dart to the space above your head, as if there’s a speech bubble floating there just for him, exposing all your thoughts. Every last dirty one.
“Then why do you keep coming to my friends’ parties?” he continues to goad you on.
“They’re my friends too, you twat!” you retort, stepping closer. “You’re the one who’s the problem. Why can’t you leave me alone?”
James pretends to think about it for a moment. “I don’t think you want me to,” he decides, running his fingertips down your arms.
You laugh once, hard and without humor, shaking your head in disbelief while hoping he doesn’t notice the goosebumps left in the wake of his touch. “See? This is why we didn’t work out. You never listen.”
James drops his hands to his sides with a groan, tipping his head back. “Oh, here we go,” he says, like he’s already tired of this conversation.
You scoff. “And that! You were always such a fucking asshole.”
“I wouldn’t have to be if you weren’t such a cunt,” he mutters under his breath.
You step even closer, shoving his shoulder. “What did you just call me?”
He looks at you, lips curling like he finds this funny. “I said you’re a fucking cunt,” he repeats, firm and clear.
You lash out, hand raised and swinging, but he catches your wrist just before your palm connects with his cheek. You try to twist your arm from his grasp, but he tightens his hold, almost bruising the soft flesh of the inside of your wrist. Your breath shudders at how easily he could pin you to the bed with it.
His voice drops into something seductive. “That temper’s gonna get you in trouble.”
Anger flares in your chest, but a different kind of heat burns stronger low in your gut. Fuck, that voice. And the way he looks at you, like he’s already imagining all the ways he could ruin you. Fuck. You’re done for.
“Yeah?” you murmur, letting the tension between you simmer for a beat. “How much trouble?”
The corner of James’s mouth curls into a smirk, and then he’s yanking you forward, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. He pins your hand to your back, like a punishment for daring to raise it, but your free hand roams his body unrestrained. Finding a home in his hair, which you tug sharply, making him hiss into your mouth.
You don’t beat around the bush, both of you kicking off your shoes and shredding layers with urgency.
“Change of heart?” he murmurs, helping you out of your shirt.
“You were practically begging me,” you excuse your actions as you push his jacket off his shoulders. “Not my fault you’re so fucking easy.”
James tugs his shirt off by the collar. “Take advantage, then,” he says gruffly.
And you do, grabbing him by the face and reconnecting your lips. Sinking your teeth in and tugging on his lower lip between sloppy kisses.
James makes quick work of your bra, pawing at your tits as soon as they’re free, nothing gentle about his touch. He pinches your nipples until they’re stiff and aching.
Your mouth finds the underside of his jaw, sucking dark red marks into his skin as he walks you backward towards the bed. When the back of your knees hit the mattress, he shoves you onto it.
Something crinkles in your pocket as he tugs your jeans past your ankles.
“What’s this?” he asks, fishing in your pocket. “Not a condom, I hope.” He’s not so keen on wearing one, and he knows you won’t ask him to if neither of you has one.
“Why? Scared of a little responsibility?” you mutter.
He grins like a devil when he finds the small plastic baggie.
You shoot upright. You had forgotten about that.
“What do we have here?” he muses as he discards your jeans on the floor.
You lunge for it, but he holds it high out of your reach.
“Ah-ah,” he chides. “That’s jail time you’ve got in your pocket, you know,” he teases, mockingly threatening, as if he hasn’t done worse, and as if you couldn’t easily pin him for worse.
“Is this a shake down? Give that back,” you growl.
“Relax.” He turns the bag over in his fingers, inspecting it. “Let’s put it to good use, yeah? You could certainly stand to lighten up.”
“Adjust your attitude, you prick,” you snap.
“That's what this is for.” He pinches the bag open. “Come on, I’ll let you have the first hit.”
“Oh, how kind of you to let me have the first hit of my own fucking coke.”
He rolls his eyes. “You have a foul mouth, y’know that?” he asks as he tips the bag over the back of his hand. He drags the tip of his finger over the powder, straightening it into a neat line.
James grips your jaw roughly, lining you up with his other hand. You press a finger to one nostril and lean in, nose brushing his skin as you snort the line clean. You sniffle as you lean back.
He wipes your nose with his thumb. “Atta girl,” he praises, then he plants a hand on your shoulder and pushes you down onto the mattress. You’d snap at him for shoving you again if everything didn’t suddenly feel so bright and alive and lovely. Suddenly, James doesn’t seem all that bad. You laugh about nothing in particular.
“My turn,” he murmurs, tapping out a line across the soft skin beneath your navel, thinning it out with a knuckle. He braces a hand on your waist as he leans down, his eye contact unwavering as he snorts the powdery line.
You get a head rush, and attribute it entirely to the drugs and not the way James looks like sin.
Before the sting’s even faded from his sinuses, he drags his tongue across your skin, licking up the residue. Then he sinks his teeth into your hip, hard enough to make you yelp.
“Fuck,” he growls, pulling back slightly to admire the blooming mark. “Missed this.”
The words just slip out. You ignore them. He’d like to forget he said them.
“Alright, get up here,” you mutter, nudging him with your knee.
“Eager, are we?” he says, shedding the rest of his clothes.
James picks you up and tosses you higher up on the bed. He has always liked it rough. Has always been an aggressive lover, in more ways than one. When he’s high, that particular proclivity is only enhanced.
He crawls after you, parting your thighs with his large, rough hands as he kneels between them. He hooks your panties to the side, and a low groan reverberates deep in his chest. “Act like you hate me, but look how wet you are f’me,” he says gruffly as he easily slides two fingers inside of you.
Your breathing becomes heavy as he fucks his fingers into your tight hole, scissoring them to stretch you wide for his cock—leaking and aching for you as he watches your head tip back in pleasure and your back begin to arch off the mattress. He pulls his fingers out of you, sick of waiting, and wraps the same hand around the waistband of your panties. The lace digs into your skin, burning as he sharply tugs you closer by them.
For a moment, James is still. Thinking, as he feels the fabric between his fingers. The pad of his thumb runs back and forth over the floral design. These slutty little panties aren’t for him. You put them on for some other random bloke to see tonight, hadn’t you?
His nostrils flare, and without a second thought, he rips them clean off.
“You dick!” you shout, propping yourself up on your elbows to look at what he’s done. “Those aren’t fucking cheap!”
“They tore like they were fucking cheap,” he grunts, jaw clenched as he pulls the ruined fabric out from under you and tosses it off the bed. “Now, shut the hell up.”
He grips your chin, meanly shoving the same two fingers that were inside your cunt into your mouth as he lines his hips up with yours. Instead of sucking, like he wants, you bite down hard.
“Fuck!” he shouts. In retaliation, he slams his hips against yours, filling you up to the hilt in one fluid motion.
Your jaw falls open as a cry rips from your throat. It feels like he’s splitting you open. He could have stretched you out with more of his fingers, but it hardly would have mattered. You never did get used to his size. Not even when you were together, and he’d fuck you senseless every single day.
James slides his fingers out of your mouth before you bite them off, wrapping them around your neck instead. He leans over you, supporting his weight on his forearm next to your head. “Almost forgot how perfect this pussy is for me,” he grunts as he sets a brutal pace, hips slapping against yours with every thrust.
You refuse to give him the satisfaction of making any more noises, biting your tongue to keep them at bay. He can tell.
“Don’t hold back on me, angel.”
“You wanna hear me? Make me feel good. Or is this the best you can do?” you taunt, slightly breathless despite yourself.
“Why don’t you just use your words and tell me what you want?”
“I want you to do something useful. If this is what you call fucking, no wonder I always left.”
James’s grip tightens around your neck, enough to make it hard to breathe. You start to feel a little dizzy.
“Always such a piece of work,” he says, delivering a sharp smack to your inner thigh. “You’ll take what I give you.”
You buck your hips and wrestle him off of you, tired of him having the upper hand. He doesn’t hide the fact that he lets it happen. You both know he’s strong enough to keep you down if that’s where he wants you. Instead, his lips curl into a lopsided grin as you climb on top, his hands resting over your hips. He tries to thrust up into you, but you move back.
You shake your head, pressing your palm against his abdomen to keep him still.
“You’ll take what I give you,” you mock, throwing his hands off of you.
His eyebrows shoot up, lips parting, but he slowly starts to smirk again, moving his hands behind his head as he lets you take the lead.
You sink down onto his cock, inch by torturous inch. He wants to reach out and touch you, but he knows he’ll likely be met with some barking insult or a smack to his offending hand.
You moan, tossing your head back and closing your eyes as you set a steady pace, rolling your hips just right so the fat head of his cock nudges that sweet spot inside of you. Using him more than you are fucking him.
“You say you hate me so much, but look at you dripping all over my cock,” James says, grinning. “Such a slut for it, yeah, baby?”
“It’s all you're good for,” you shrug, wiping the smile off James’s face. He hates how smug you look.
“Oh, really?” he grinds out. He grabs you harshly by the hips, holding you up so he can take back some control, fucking up into you hard.
An involuntary squeal slips past your lips, but you don’t back down. “Like I said. Easy to get a good fuck from you. You were shit at everything else, and a shit boyfriend.”
“That why you keep coming back?”
“You keep coming back. It’s pathetic. You’re lucky I take pity and let you fuck me like this.”
He suddenly throws you off of him. You have no time to react. Unable to catch yourself, you land on your side with an “oompf.”
“Be fucking careful,” you snap. When you look back at him, he’s silently seething—brooding more like. A weird feeling churns in your gut, which you ignore. “Don’t be a baby about it,” you mutter.
James rolls his eyes and sniffs, that prickly feeling still bothering his sinuses. He pushes himself onto his knees, finding the little baggie he tossed somewhere on the bed and taking another hit before he even looks your way. You fight the urge to call him a baby again.
You’re still lying on your side when he finally shuffles over to you. He yanks one of your legs into the air, sending a sharp sting through the top of your thigh.
“Ow!” you say with emphasis, smacking him in the abdomen as he straddles your other thigh.
“Psh, you love it,” he says, grabbing your wrist and pressing it down on the mattress behind you. He smirks when you keep it there, even as he moves his hand to hold your leg instead.
With his other hand, he lines himself back up at your entrance, then snaps his hips against yours. He gives your leg another tug, hooking your ankle over his shoulder.
You gasp sharply as his cock sinks impossibly deeper in this position. He bumps your cervix with every unforgiving snap of his hips. It’s painful in the way you like, and guttural noises you’re too gone to even think about suppressing spill from your lips with every mean thrust.
His hand climbs your body to paw at your tits, your hips swiveling as he pushes you halfway onto your back. He squeezes them roughly, pinching and twisting your nipples until they’re sore. When he tires of that, his hand travels back down. A finger dips between your folds, gathering your creamy juices from where his dick disappears inside you and spreading them up to your clit.
He doesn’t waste time working you up to it, rubbing fast circles against your clit that make you cry out. His lips transform into a satisfied grin as you get lost in the pleasure that he gives you. A surge of pride courses through him when you screw your eyes shut, whining and whimpering just for him.
James thinks you’re perfect like this. When you’re his again, even just for the moment, and everything he does drives you wild. There’s not a hateful bone left in your body. And the way you look at him? Nothing’s ever made him feel more alive.
He doesn’t stop when you cum, he doesn’t even slow down. He holds his own climax back just to torture you, forcing another orgasm out of you as soon as the sharp pain of overstimulation eases into a familiar pleasure.
“Yeah, there you go. Finally got you to shut up, huh?” he says smugly.
Still inside you, he clumsily climbs over your thigh so he’s kneeling between your legs. He roughly tugs your other leg to his shoulder, suspending your hips a few inches off the bed as he spears into you as deeply as possible.
He holds one arm across his chest, pinning your legs and keeping them spread, while the other hand continues to bully your clit. Your legs tremble uncontrollably when he makes you cum again and again, not letting up even a little. He kisses your calf softly, and you’re too distracted to think about what the gentleness means. You forget all about it anyway when he bites you there next, leaving behind an obvious outline of teeth bruised into your skin.
You forgot how fixated James gets on sinking his teeth into you when he’s high, like he’s completely fucking feral. You used to call him a vampire in such a fond tone. It used to make his heart swell. He nips at you again as he remembers this, then he leans over you to smash his lips against yours, practically folding you in half in the process. He takes your lower lip between his teeth, biting down hard enough to draw blood.
“Fuck!” you cry out when he releases you, leaning back on his knees as he admires your crimson-stained lips.
“You’re fine,” he laughs when you raise your hand to the gash, and you get the urge to smack him. Instead, you push yourself up and spit a mix of blood and saliva on his face.
He doesn’t even care, just licks the mess from his lips like it’s the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted and keeps driving his cock right into your spongy walls.
“You’re such a ffuh—fucking dick,” you grind out, but your anger is already quickly dissolving. The pleasure between your legs is too distracting. Too good. You forget all about your lip in seconds as he winds you up again. A curse falls from your lips in a half-cry, half-moan when a gush of your sweet juices dampens the sheets, and you’re cumming for the nth time—you can’t remember anymore.
A cocky smirk tugs at his lips as he thinks about the time you told him he’s the only one who’s ever gotten you to cum like that. He’s certain he still is. Certain he’s the only fucking one who’s ever fucked you right.
You whimper as you start to come down from another orgasm. Overstimulated and needing reprieve, you weakly press on his stomach, without the strength to actually push him away because you can’t quite muster it.
He doesn’t want to stop, though. You feel too good, and he’s right there. You know it too, by the way his noises have climbed a pitch.
“Let me fill you up, I remember how you used to love it,” James pants.
“I’ll fucking kill you,” you say, your breathless voice matching his.
“Fine,” he growls, pulling out and once again manhandling you into the position he wants. He drags you by your legs until his cock is in your face. He rubs the angry red tip over your lips, mixing your cum with whatever lip gloss hasn’t already been smudged down your chin. “Fucking drink it, then,” he says, squeezing your cheeks to open you up, pushing his thick cock against your tongue. He tastes like musk and you and faintly of your strawberry lip gloss.
He groans as soon as he pushes into your mouth, your lips are warm and perfect around him. Impatient, he shoves his cock to the back of your throat with one quick thrust. You gag, and a sharp noise of surprise sputters out of you. In retaliation, you let your teeth drag lightly over his length. He hisses, grabbing a fistful of your hair to tug you off of him.
“Be fucking good or I’ll bury my cock back in your cunt and fill you up the way I really want,” he growls.
You know he’s not kidding. You huff through your nose as you adjust your angle, propping yourself up on an elbow with a hand braced on his muscular thigh, and you give him what he wants.
He moans loudly as you hollow your cheeks around him, letting you bob your head a few times before his need for control takes over yet again. His fingers wrap around your neck, holding you in place to fuck your face. You slacken your jaw and take it, gagging when he hits the back of your throat.
When you begin to cough, he pulls back. Spit runs down your chin, a string of it connecting your lips to his cock. He gives you a moment to recover, his grip on your neck turning gentle as he massages you. It’s easy for both of you to pretend the gentleness was never there when he switches back to mean in a single beat, as soon as you’ve caught your breath.
“Take it like a good little slut. Can’t get enough, can you?” he grunts as he shoves his cock back down your throat.
His voice edges off into a whine, and you know he’s right on the brink. You relax for him, letting him sink deeper, swallowing around him to push him over the edge. Without warning, hot spurts of his cum shoot straight down your throat as he moans your name, hips bucking until your mouth has milked him dry.
James is so fucking pent up when he cums that white spots blur his vision. For a moment, his mind goes blank of anything but the blinding pleasure. It’s like he doesn’t even exist. Like all there is in the world is you, only you.
With a shuddering breath, he regains his bearings. He clumsily moves you both around until he finds his way back between your legs, sinking his sensitive cock right back into you.
You squeeze your walls around him to be mean, knowing this is almost too much for him, but he doesn’t let up.
“Give me one more, yeah?” he pants. He just needs to see you fall apart for him one more time. Fucking insatiable.
His hands press your thighs back, splitting you wide open as he lazily rocks into you, ignoring his own overstimulation as his thumb finds your clit. He’s practically preening when he quickly works you back to the edge, and you cum on his cock with one final cry of his name.
James sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth as your walls contract around him. Even as it makes him feel lightheaded, he keeps his cock buried deep inside of you as he leans down, kissing you all over.
“So good,” he murmurs, pressing a too tender kiss to your temple. He trails his lips down to your neck, where he bites and sucks dark hickeys into your skin until you catch your breath.
His hands slide down and lazily massage the seams of your thighs. His care for you is subtle enough for both of you to brush it off as James going through the motions, mindlessly touching. Not soothing your sore muscles because he actually might give a shit. He doesn’t, he’d tell you, if you dared to bring it up, but you wouldn’t dream of doing such a thing.
“Alright, enough,” you mutter, pushing him off of you.
James rolls his eyes and stands to get dressed. You lay there long enough for him to fish a pack of cigarettes from his trousers, take a quick drag, then stick it in your mouth so he can focus on pulling his clothes on.
You think of the days you’d lie with your head in his lap, and he’d talk about anything, carding his fingers through your hair and holding the smoke to your lips. You wonder briefly if the rest of the night would’ve gone like that had you not pushed him off of you.
With the cigarette hanging from your lips, you stand to dress, relinquishing the thought. You don’t see your panties anywhere—not that they’re any use to you now—but you’re pretty sure James pocketed them. You sigh and pull on your jeans, grabbing the nearly empty, wrinkled baggie before James can swipe it and putting it back in your pocket.
It then becomes a race to see who can get dressed and get the fuck away from the other first. And for you to take as many drags as you can before he steals the cig back.
“I still hate you,” you break the silence as you clasp your bra.
“Wouldn’t want it any other way, angel,” he remarks, handing you your top. You blow smoke in his face, and that’s when he plucks the cigarette from your fingers.
You think James lacks tact when he follows you closely out of the room, but what he really lacks is shame.
“Oi, Longbottom! We got a room!” James shouts, pulling you into his side as he waves at Frank across the room.
“What the FUCK, James?!”
You roll your eyes and duck out of his grip while he’s distracted with Frank, who’s barreling towards him now. You disappear into the crowd without looking back, set on finding a pretty pill or a perfect stranger to drown out the regret and other confusing feelings you refuse to address.
You’ll try to forget about James, at least for a little while. But no matter what, you can never truly erase him. Nor can he erase you.
Maybe the problem is that neither of you really wants to.
♡ The Crown of Valenora series masterlist (on-going)
James Potter, a soldier of the royal guard, is assigned to protect the princess at all costs. His new duty proves far harder than he imagined, for the princess has a habit of doing exactly what she’s not supposed to, and hiding a secret no one must uncover.
‘Til All That's Left Is Glorious Bone— (hurt/comfort + angst) (part one) (black siblings centered)
being a Black means believing love is conditional and obedience is expected, so when kindness is offered, you hesitate, unsure how to accept what doesn’t hurt. (10k)
↳ —So You'll Bury Your Own (hurt/comfort + fluff) (part two): after a rough night that nearly tears you and your brothers apart, everything you've all been avoiding comes to the surface. healing doesn't come easily, but slowly, a change begins. (10k)
↳ She Will Be Loved (hurt/comfort + fluff) (part three) (extra): at Potter Manor in spring, even a Black can begin again. the road of healing is long and tumultuous, but not too bad when James is always there to catch you when you fall. (7k)
About You (hurt/comfort + fluff)
in a world where soulmates see color upon meeting, james always saw hues he couldn’t explain, until the girl from his childhood returns, and he realizes it’s always been about you. (6k)
The Ferret and the Chaser (fluff)
in which you turn into a ferret to sneak into james’s quidditch match, and he can't help but dote at you. (2.1k)
Share Your Girl (smut)
james and sirius have always shared everything; detentions, cigarettes, secrets. but there’s one thing sirius hasn’t shared. until he decided it's time to share his girl. (8k)
♡ who paid for them? (fluff + crack)
james isn’t exactly thrilled when he finds out that someone else paid for your nails. (1.7k)
do you wish you were athletic? (fluff + crack)
james is flabbergasted when you ask him if he wishes he was athletic - or in which you ragebait your fiancé. (1k)
♡ unexpected company (fluff)
caught in the kitchen at three a.m., james can’t resist making a move on his elusive, hot roommate. (2.4k)
dilf james potter (smut)
working at a cafe is easy until james potter, the hot dilf who visits every week, completely destroys your concentration. (2.1k)
~ A Perfect Fit , A Perfect Fit II, A Perfect Fit III
[S/F/A]
~ The Night that Bled, The Day it Dawned, The Calm Before the Storm
[F/A]
~ Your Love is better than Gold (Old money! James / Series List)
Blurbs
- Just sweet things. [F]
- where james ignores you for Lily [A/F]
- James is unsure whether you like him back or not [F]
- Can't sleep? James is here [F]
- a reverse grumpy x sunshine because our boy James is the literal definition of sunshine. [F]
- Sad on your birthday? Feel like you're getting old? [F]
~ Roommate!James [F]
~ Dilf!james sneakily flirting with you while Harry is at the store [F] Pt. 2 — Harry catches you , Pt. 3
~ Husband!james just making dirty jokes and flirting eit you while your making breakfast.
~ Idiots in love
~ Waitress!reader
DBF!James Potter
~ thoughts [S]
~ dbf! james potter who nuzzles your nose and calls you a pretty girl. [S]
~ Teasing DBF!James under the table at dinner [S]
~ DBF!James fucking you in the bathroom at your dad’s birthday party + dbf! james potter, who covers your mouth or shoves his fingers in your mouth to keep you quiet [S]
~ dbf! james who picks you up from a party when you call crying because of something that happened, and he'll get into a fight with a boy your age for hurting you. [F]
~ dbf!james having a thing for seeing you be good with his kid. So he start fantasizing about having a kids with you / dbf!James is trying to discreetly eye you in a bikini and trying to keep dirty thoughts at bay on a family trip [S]
↳ in a week. * james wants to rot inside you. and you let him.
worth the mess. you don't think you're lovable, james is determined to change that.
smile for the camera. * it's jamie's birthday! the day is filled with laughter, cake and a surprise he's been begging you for (for a long, long time)
tears. * james being a good boyfriend is your biggest problem. he gives you flowers, does the dishes and treats you like he's supposed to do—who knew being treated so sweet could make you this hot?
when did you get hot? * hogwarts reunions are supposed to be boring. you’re supposed to be catching up with old classmates and enjoying the party (or at least trying to). instead, you're just left wondering when did james potter get so hot.
james reacting to a tattoo you got just for him
losing your virginity to firstbf!james *
comforting him after a bad day at work
"would you still love me if i was a bunny?"
practice kissing with bsf!james
james sucking on your tits ft. sirius *
↳ pt2. james eating you out ft. sirius *
james giving sirius permission to fuck you *
*. ⋆ himbo!james potter
bruise me, then. * hate sex with james
as sweet as honey. in which james loves his kitty daughter a little too much for your liking
all brawn, no brain.* in which james is rewarded for being such a good boy quidditch player
bruised & blessed. * james comes home bruised and scared you're gonna be mad at him, instead, you just find him extremely hot
giving him a blowjob *
manhandling you during sex *
james crying during sex *
flashing him during an argument
fucking at the library *
he cums while eating you out *
stressed himbo!james finding comfort in your tits
↳ pt2. top of the class. * james survived a disastrous week of studying, and he can't think of a better way of celebrating than getting his hands on your tits
*. ⋆ gymbro!james x pilatesprincess!reader
james trying pilates after thinking it's pointless
*. ⋆ firefighter!james potter
how you met
*. ⋆ spiderman!james potter
discovering your boyfriend is spiderman
*. ⋆ baker!james
joining him in the kitchen early in the morning
*. ⋆ dark!james
dark!james x reader who doesn't realise his true intentions
requesting rules - tag lists - emojis - other blogs - main: @g0lden-sky
minors must NOT interact with anything that has a ♥︎ as a warning. if i see an ageless blog doing so, i'll block you. thank you so much for respecting this boundary :)
on this blog i'll post writings for multiple fandoms depending on what mood I'm in lol (currently Marauders (james potter) and anything ATJ related lmao) or what inspires me!
because this has happened, i want to say please do NOT repost my work on any other platforms without my permission! thank you!
- MISCELLANEOUS CHARACTERS
- including Robbie Jennings (ataps), Drover (australia), Leopold Mountbatten (kate and leopold), Conrad Fisher (tsitp), and Kaz Brekker (shadow and bone), Joe Macken (albert nobbs)
- JAMES POTTER
- TANGERINE
- POLY MARAUDERS
- COUNT VRONSKY
- SERGEI KRAVINOFF
- DAVE LIZEWSKI
- PIETRO MAXIMOFF
- TOM RYDER
- LOGAN HOWLETT
- FRIEDRICH HARDING
- CLARK KENT
- PETER PARKER
- STEVE HARRINGTON
(Bonus, 4k Celebration) - MOODBOARD MASTERLISTS
PS: the aesthetic pictures on the mood-boards DO NOT reflect Y/n's descriptions! no physical descriptions of Y/n are given at any point in any fics UNLESS given in the warnings! i always want to make sure Y/n can be of any race/ethnicity/size since we humans are all beautifully different and amazing!!
PSS: none of the pictures i use for my blog are mine! i find them all on Pinterest and if any of them are copyrighted, let me know!
