requests: open but slow :(( masterlist: currently under construction my loves
REQUEST RULES š:·.°ââ.àłàż*:
No-go's: smut, pedophilia, incest, stepcest, sibling!reader of a character I write for, canon/war scenarios, domestic violence, stalking, dark!fics
Yes: fluff, angst, chubby reader, quiet reader, bubbly reader, etc., you can always rant about headcanons or send me tiktoks you think apply to my characters
My beloved background music: Du erinnerst mich an Liebe - Adel tawil
Request machine is a little clunky and slow, but sheâs trying her best! THANK YOU FOR VISITING, FEEL FREE TO STAY A WHILE!
DO NOT REPOST MY WORK ON ANOTHER BLOG OR PLATFORM WITHOUT OBVIOUS CREDITING!!!!!!!
james potter who lets you punch his chest when you're angry, letting it all out. He saw you punch a table once, after truly everything that day went wrong, and immediately insisted on it, not wanting you to hurt your hand. He's never as much as frowned slightly during it, strong muscles protecting him from your anger. After you're tired and your fists start to hurt a bit, he just pulls you in for a hug, crowding you against him with strong arms. (HES SO HOT I NEED HIM)
JJ steps into your shared apartment with a sigh, itâs been a long day at the shop and his brain still hurts from the ordering mistake he made and everything that came with fixing it. The lights are off as he toes off his dirty boots and starts to pad towards the bathroom.
A soft light shines from your bedroom, stopping him in his step. Youâre asleep, still in your waitressing uniform. The soft light from your bedside lamp shining onto your smudged eyeliner.Â
Trying his best not to wake you, he steps toward the bed and covers you with the blanket, deciding the outfit is comfortable enough to sleep in. He does, however, reach up under your polo to unclasp your bra, not wanting you to wake up with painful marks tomorrow.
You snuggle closer to the pillow, and a soft smile grows on your face as the tension melts from your frame. Seemingly comforted by his presence, even in your sleep. He presses a soft kiss to your cheek and another onto your tired eyes before changing into his pjâs.
He hurries up in the bathroom, choosing to just brush his teeth instead of showering so he can cuddle up in bed with you sooner. Just as heâs about to return to bed, he remembers to grab your makeup remover.
JJ takes his time as he gently swipes the cotton pad over your face, a mix of emotion coming up inside him as he kneels in front of you.
You two have rarely talked the last few weeks, with him always busy at the shop and you having taken on a second job to contribute more to your savings and when you do talk, the conversations are short and often about bills and tasks around the house. He misses your relaxed laughter and soft eyes but at the same time feels eternally grateful for having made it this far.
The pictures of your friends hung over the bed, the closet doors painted in an under the sea design, the old but comfortable throw blanket and your childhood plushie sitting on the windowsill- they all screamed family in a way JJ has never felt before finding you. They made him feel warm and at ease in the way a long hug by your oldest friend did.Â
An idea nestles into his mind as he brushes a hair out of your face. Quickly, he sent John B a text asking to take off tomorrow, wincing at the brightness of his phone.
You sigh in your sleep, and he can't help but smile and crawl into the empty space next to you. He curls himself around your sleeping form, winding an arm around your waist and pressing a kiss to your neck before resting his head there.
When he wakes up the next morning you are gone already and itâs only 6 am. Heâs unsure what he expected since you were always first out the house, but heâs a tad disappointed nonetheless.Â
His phone lights up with a text. John B responded with a thumbs up, causing relief to flood through his body.
The image of your tired eyes and tense body wonât leave his mind as he goes through the motions of getting ready, determined to lessen the load off of you and give you a day with the least amount of stress possible.
He starts the day with a checklist instead of, like usual, trusting himself to remember or for one of his friends to remind him of what he forgets. The list is simple:
He ponders for a moment, trying to figure out what else might help when his eyes catch your own to-do list stuck to the fridge. He adds to his list:
The clock on your wrist ticks and you sigh, watching the minutes creep by. Itâs your break and you canât even fully relax, wishing you could just leave earlier instead of sitting in the back of the coffee shop with nothing to do but stress.
You pat your pocket and let out a mumbled curse, pressing your eyes together in frustration. The Grocery list you needed to shop on your way home is sitting on the kitchen counter and your pocket is empty.Â
You consider calling JJ to ask if he could swing by and send you a picture of the list. Having to ask him for help makes the pit in your stomach and the lump in your throat grow. This was your mess, you will fix it. JJ is busy getting the shop up and running and itâs not like it was his fault you were forgetful.
You switch around your schedule in your head. You had an earlier shift at the restaurant than usual today, so youâll have to go shopping after that. That means youâll just have a croissant from here for lunch and swing by the chateau for a change and a quick nap before.Â
you bite the inside of your cheek and count to thirty in your head before cutting your break short. You need to busy yourself to quiet your brain, even when your legs are still hurting from all the standing.
JJ looks at his grocery list, having found yours earlier that only had quick reminders like âuse up carrotsâ, âsomething with carbsâ and âcook meat for weekâ on it. He had planned out lunch and dinner for the week, keeping your reminders and most importantly the flowers in mind. For today he got an easy curry recipe from Cleo.
He puts on his boots and heads out to the twinkie, confidence in his step. Before he drives off, he quickly opens his phone.
JJâs phone
To: Sarah
you: hoe tf do you clean make up brushes??
you: i meant how!!!
you: i swear i did
Sarah: you better have
Sarah: With soap you would use on your face
Sarah: put that on your palm and at a slight angle gently circle the brushes over it
Sarah: then just flush away the soap w water
Sarah: repeat till the waters clean
you: youâre the best thanks
Sarah: donât let john b hear
Sarah: heâll think youâre cheating on him
you: i would never
you: heâs my true love
you: well besides the misses
Sarah: well obv
To: my love <33
you: hey
you: hope ur days not too shitty
you: i miss u
my love<33: its not too bad
my love<33: miss u2
you: see you at home
you: canât wait to kiss ya
my love<33: haha
JJ heaves a sigh, frowning at the dry texting and the implication that your day isnât exactly going great. God, he really does miss you.
Itâs getting dark outside when you walk into the apartment building. Your eyes and legs are burning and tears are welling up. You take five seconds to breathe before walking into the mess of an apartment thatâs waiting behind the door. Youâre not ready to clean the kitchen and still go grocery shopping. You just want to fall into bed and cry.
Most of all you want JJ, whoâs probably still at the shop. If your legs didnât hurt as much you might have turned around right then and ran towards it, but you had to be strong and get through the day.
You open the door with a struggle, the key getting stuck for a second, and are met with the back of JJ. For a second thatâs all you see and you almost think you mustâve let sleep get the better of you and fallen asleep right here on the doorstep. You let your eyes sweep over the clean apartment, a delicious smell wafting through the air, and look back at JJ just as a sob presses out of you.
JJ turns with a startle, not having heard the door. His eyes are big in surprise and quickly crinkle in concern as he rushes towards you. âSweetheart?â
He looks like an angel, with the warm light of the lamp shining through and highlighting his blonde hair and reflecting off his gorgeous cheekbones. You swear heâs never looked as beautiful as he does right now, rushing towards you in your beat-up apartment, dish towel discarded behind him.Â
He grabs your shoulders and then gently holds your face in his hands, swiping along your wet cheeks. âPrincess? âŠHey? Why are you crying, honey?â he gently murmurs, as if heâs scared his words could hurt you. You let your handbag fall to the floor as you collapse in his chest.
For a second he stands still.
Then he wraps his arms around your waist, hiding his face in the top of your hair and pressing kiss after kiss into it. âIâve missed you,â you croak, another cry interrupting you. âSo, so much.â
You feel his hot tears hit your head, âMe too,â he whispers. It might seem like simple words, but you both know they mean more. Itâs not just seeing each other, itâs open and vulnerable in a way stress hasnât allowed you two to be in a long time. Itâs the feeling of holding each other close in a way that doesnât just feel part of a routine but like you truly mean it.
It takes a while before both your tears dry and even longer until you part. When you do, JJ presses a kiss to your lips. Itâs soft and reassuring, as you let yourself fall into it. You deepen the kiss and wrap your arms around his shoulders. JJ indulges for a second before pulling back an inch.Â
âWe both know how much I would love to continue this,â he breathes out, pressing another, shorter but no less loving kiss to your lips. âBut-â You interrupt him with another kiss that he smiles into before pulling back again. âI made dinner.â
The smile on your face grows, âJJâ you breathe out, closer to a whine than anything. He leads you to the table, curry and rice ready to eat and a bouquet of flowers sitting on your chair. You gasp.
âTheyâre Lilyâs. I even cut off the stinky part,â he smiles bashfully. You turn to him, tears welling up again. âOh no, honey. Please donât cry,â he murmurs, still slightly smiling with a mix of concern. You let out a wet laugh âJJ Maybank, you are the most amazing boyfriend I could ever wish for. Thank you. For everythingâ you say, earnestly.
He blushes and you press another short kiss to his warm cheeks.
I APPRECIATE EVERY NOTE BUT COMMENTS AND REBLOGS ARE WHAT GIVES ME MOTIVATION!!
(some of this might just be word vomit but oh well also ik som else got more votes so far and im working on that rn but inspiration just hit yk)
Itâs a known fact that Mattheo likes to stare. When someoneâs talking or he just finds something interesting. Itâs not uncommon that he gets asked if thereâs something on the personâs face. There rarely is.
Youâve never fully understood it, which probably only adds to how flustered you get whenever his gaze is fixated on you. As soon as you feel the heat of it on your back or the side of your face, you can feel your cheeks getting warm and you quickly look away from him.
Itâs usually followed by loud laughter and a slap on Mattheo's back from Theo and when you look back at him with an embarrassed smile heâs red with laughter. Youâve never quite figured out how to feel about those situations.
You only really process it late at night, when youâre trying to sleep. The way he looks at you, the way they laugh and most of all the uncertainty of whether he knows itâs more than a joke or bit to you.Â
Sometimes you wake up in the middle of the night with the sick, sinking feeling that he might be making fun of you. You then routinely spend fifteen minutes listing reasons he wouldnât do that and another ten listing facts about him to make sure you know him well enough to say that.
The sleep that comes afterwards is never calm.
Youâre laughing for no specific reason at all, giggling and smiling brightly as the alcohol flows through your veins and your friends all smile back at you. Except for Mattheo.
Mattheo hasnât had anything to drink except half a cup of beer and isnât even tipsy yet as he stares at you with slightly parted lips and relaxed eyes. You turn to meet his gaze, alcohol giving you the confidence to keep looking.
For a second he doesnât react, just looks. He lets his eyes run over your features like he wants to study them. They flicker down to your lips and stay there a bit longer, causing you to smile a bit bigger, before returning up to your eyes.
The realization that youâve seen him seems to dawn on him in that moment and his eyes widen while his cheeks turn a rosy shade.
He looks away and tries to disguise his look as casual in a way heâs never tried to do. His hand runs through his hair as he mutters a quiet âwasnât staring.â just loud enough for you to hear.
âYeah right,â comes from Draco to his right, accompanied with a laugh. âMerlin, youâre down bad.â
Theo, now having tuned into the conversation, laughs along adding a âHow nervous he gets is so funnyâ like itâs a regular occurrence. You hide your confusion with a soft laugh while Mattheo still canât meet your eyes.
I APPRECIATE EVERY NOTE BUT COMMENTS AND REBLOGS ARE WHAT GIVES ME MOTIVATION!!
(this is not proofread so if you find mistake feel free to tell me ALSO i might do like a second part where reader realizes the implications of all this and confronts mattheo and it's like a whole "I thought you knew" type thing and maybe a third part how the staring thing is when they get together so comment if you want to see that ALSO prompt is from @iamgonnagetyouback)
JJ steps into your shared apartment with a sigh, itâs been a long day at the shop and his brain still hurts from the ordering mistake he made and everything that came with fixing it. The lights are off as he toes off his dirty boots and starts to pad towards the bathroom.
A soft light shines from your bedroom, stopping him in his step. Youâre asleep, still in your waitressing uniform. The soft light from your bedside lamp shining onto your smudged eyeliner.Â
Trying his best not to wake you, he steps toward the bed and covers you with the blanket, deciding the outfit is comfortable enough to sleep in. He does, however, reach up under your polo to unclasp your bra, not wanting you to wake up with painful marks tomorrow.
You snuggle closer to the pillow, and a soft smile grows on your face as the tension melts from your frame. Seemingly comforted by his presence, even in your sleep. He presses a soft kiss to your cheek and another onto your tired eyes before changing into his pjâs.
He hurries up in the bathroom, choosing to just brush his teeth instead of showering so he can cuddle up in bed with you sooner. Just as heâs about to return to bed, he remembers to grab your makeup remover.
JJ takes his time as he gently swipes the cotton pad over your face, a mix of emotion coming up inside him as he kneels in front of you.
You two have rarely talked the last few weeks, with him always busy at the shop and you having taken on a second job to contribute more to your savings and when you do talk, the conversations are short and often about bills and tasks around the house. He misses your relaxed laughter and soft eyes but at the same time feels eternally grateful for having made it this far.
The pictures of your friends hung over the bed, the closet doors painted in an under the sea design, the old but comfortable throw blanket and your childhood plushie sitting on the windowsill- they all screamed family in a way JJ has never felt before finding you. They made him feel warm and at ease in the way a long hug by your oldest friend did.Â
An idea nestles into his mind as he brushes a hair out of your face. Quickly, he sent John B a text asking to take off tomorrow, wincing at the brightness of his phone.
You sigh in your sleep, and he can't help but smile and crawl into the empty space next to you. He curls himself around your sleeping form, winding an arm around your waist and pressing a kiss to your neck before resting his head there.
When he wakes up the next morning you are gone already and itâs only 6 am. Heâs unsure what he expected since you were always first out the house, but heâs a tad disappointed nonetheless.Â
His phone lights up with a text. John B responded with a thumbs up, causing relief to flood through his body.
The image of your tired eyes and tense body wonât leave his mind as he goes through the motions of getting ready, determined to lessen the load off of you and give you a day with the least amount of stress possible.
He starts the day with a checklist instead of, like usual, trusting himself to remember or for one of his friends to remind him of what he forgets. The list is simple:
He ponders for a moment, trying to figure out what else might help when his eyes catch your own to-do list stuck to the fridge. He adds to his list:
The clock on your wrist ticks and you sigh, watching the minutes creep by. Itâs your break and you canât even fully relax, wishing you could just leave earlier instead of sitting in the back of the coffee shop with nothing to do but stress.
You pat your pocket and let out a mumbled curse, pressing your eyes together in frustration. The Grocery list you needed to shop on your way home is sitting on the kitchen counter and your pocket is empty.Â
You consider calling JJ to ask if he could swing by and send you a picture of the list. Having to ask him for help makes the pit in your stomach and the lump in your throat grow. This was your mess, you will fix it. JJ is busy getting the shop up and running and itâs not like it was his fault you were forgetful.
You switch around your schedule in your head. You had an earlier shift at the restaurant than usual today, so youâll have to go shopping after that. That means youâll just have a croissant from here for lunch and swing by the chateau for a change and a quick nap before.Â
you bite the inside of your cheek and count to thirty in your head before cutting your break short. You need to busy yourself to quiet your brain, even when your legs are still hurting from all the standing.
JJ looks at his grocery list, having found yours earlier that only had quick reminders like âuse up carrotsâ, âsomething with carbsâ and âcook meat for weekâ on it. He had planned out lunch and dinner for the week, keeping your reminders and most importantly the flowers in mind. For today he got an easy curry recipe from Cleo.
He puts on his boots and heads out to the twinkie, confidence in his step. Before he drives off, he quickly opens his phone.
JJâs phone
To: Sarah
you: hoe tf do you clean make up brushes??
you: i meant how!!!
you: i swear i did
Sarah: you better have
Sarah: With soap you would use on your face
Sarah: put that on your palm and at a slight angle gently circle the brushes over it
Sarah: then just flush away the soap w water
Sarah: repeat till the waters clean
you: youâre the best thanks
Sarah: donât let john b hear
Sarah: heâll think youâre cheating on him
you: i would never
you: heâs my true love
you: well besides the misses
Sarah: well obv
To: my love <33
you: hey
you: hope ur days not too shitty
you: i miss u
my love<33: its not too bad
my love<33: miss u2
you: see you at home
you: canât wait to kiss ya
my love<33: haha
JJ heaves a sigh, frowning at the dry texting and the implication that your day isnât exactly going great. God, he really does miss you.
Itâs getting dark outside when you walk into the apartment building. Your eyes and legs are burning and tears are welling up. You take five seconds to breathe before walking into the mess of an apartment thatâs waiting behind the door. Youâre not ready to clean the kitchen and still go grocery shopping. You just want to fall into bed and cry.
Most of all you want JJ, whoâs probably still at the shop. If your legs didnât hurt as much you might have turned around right then and ran towards it, but you had to be strong and get through the day.
You open the door with a struggle, the key getting stuck for a second, and are met with the back of JJ. For a second thatâs all you see and you almost think you mustâve let sleep get the better of you and fallen asleep right here on the doorstep. You let your eyes sweep over the clean apartment, a delicious smell wafting through the air, and look back at JJ just as a sob presses out of you.
JJ turns with a startle, not having heard the door. His eyes are big in surprise and quickly crinkle in concern as he rushes towards you. âSweetheart?â
He looks like an angel, with the warm light of the lamp shining through and highlighting his blonde hair and reflecting off his gorgeous cheekbones. You swear heâs never looked as beautiful as he does right now, rushing towards you in your beat-up apartment, dish towel discarded behind him.Â
He grabs your shoulders and then gently holds your face in his hands, swiping along your wet cheeks. âPrincess? âŠHey? Why are you crying, honey?â he gently murmurs, as if heâs scared his words could hurt you. You let your handbag fall to the floor as you collapse in his chest.
For a second he stands still.
Then he wraps his arms around your waist, hiding his face in the top of your hair and pressing kiss after kiss into it. âIâve missed you,â you croak, another cry interrupting you. âSo, so much.â
You feel his hot tears hit your head, âMe too,â he whispers. It might seem like simple words, but you both know they mean more. Itâs not just seeing each other, itâs open and vulnerable in a way stress hasnât allowed you two to be in a long time. Itâs the feeling of holding each other close in a way that doesnât just feel part of a routine but like you truly mean it.
It takes a while before both your tears dry and even longer until you part. When you do, JJ presses a kiss to your lips. Itâs soft and reassuring, as you let yourself fall into it. You deepen the kiss and wrap your arms around his shoulders. JJ indulges for a second before pulling back an inch.Â
âWe both know how much I would love to continue this,â he breathes out, pressing another, shorter but no less loving kiss to your lips. âBut-â You interrupt him with another kiss that he smiles into before pulling back again. âI made dinner.â
The smile on your face grows, âJJâ you breathe out, closer to a whine than anything. He leads you to the table, curry and rice ready to eat and a bouquet of flowers sitting on your chair. You gasp.
âTheyâre Lilyâs. I even cut off the stinky part,â he smiles bashfully. You turn to him, tears welling up again. âOh no, honey. Please donât cry,â he murmurs, still slightly smiling with a mix of concern. You let out a wet laugh âJJ Maybank, you are the most amazing boyfriend I could ever wish for. Thank you. For everythingâ you say, earnestly.
He blushes and you press another short kiss to his warm cheeks.
I APPRECIATE EVERY NOTE BUT COMMENTS AND REBLOGS ARE WHAT GIVES ME MOTIVATION!!
(some of this might just be word vomit but oh well also ik som else got more votes so far and im working on that rn but inspiration just hit yk)
he has to try so hard not to smile when he first sees you, keeping his hands by his side and chin up, trying his best not to sneak a glance at you.
immediately when your hand comes into contact with his chest he wraps his arms around you and buries his face into your neck, inhaling your scent after not smelling it for so long.
"missed you, sweetheart.." he'd tell you, his voice cracking with emotion and his arms tightening around you even more.
"i missed you too, baby..." you giggle as you hear him sniffle, nuzzling further into you.
he stands up straight and pulls you up with him, wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling away to look at your face which causes him to grin widely.
"i missed that pretty little face..." he kisses your cheeks and hugs you tighter, his face returning to your neck.
he doesn't let go of you for the rest of the day, his hand on your thigh or around your waist, even just his hand in your lower back if you're in a crowd of people.
that night, he doesn't want to go to sleep that night because he wants to stay with you for longer.
will literally wrap himself around you like a big bear, not caring if he's squishing you, he just needs to be as close to you as possible.
"rafey, you should sleep..." you suggest with a soft tone and run your hand over his hair.
"no." he pouts, pulling your face back into his chest, «i'm staying awake..." his cheek rests against the top of your head, letting out a deep sigh.
you run into the stadium late, breathing heavy and searching for pansy and hopefully a free seat in the crowd of fans. Closing up the coffee shop took longer than expected and you really didnât want to get a âfriendly reminder to closing personnelâ. Itâs just a friendship game after all.
You catch pansyâs freshly dyed purple hair and hurry to her side. She looks up at you with excitement in her eyes and a big smile while moving her bag from the seat next to her. âYou shouldâve seen Mattheo out there. Itâs so funnyâ
You let out a breathy laugh, already having an idea of what she means. âAnother wave of anger issues, I'm guessing?â you ask, with humor coating your voice.
âobviously,â Pansy smiles.
The seat underneath you is cold and a little sticky, causing you to grimace. Moving your focus to the game you can tell what she means, he keeps bumping into people with clear purpose and a tight smile.Â
Mattheo checks the stands while skating across the ring, eyes quickly scanning the crowd and rushing directly past you. He clenches his jaw and looks down at the ice for a split second, before focusing back onto the players around him.
Blaise skates up close to him and mumbles something before patting him on the back but Mattheo only scoffs, in turn causing Blaise to roll his eyes with a deep sigh.
The way Mattheo keeps shaking out his right hand and scanning the opposing players, you can tell heâs looking for a fight. And soon, he gets one.
A player from the other team bumps into the goalie and before youâve even comprehended it, Mattheo is flying at him. He throws him against the wall with blind rage and starts punching. He doesnât care to duck out of the way of the punches thrown back at him, instead simply taking them with only small winces and a crazed look in his eyes.
Mattheo pulls at the guys jersey and keeps swinging. When they both fall down in a bundle of aggression and blind punches, he lands on the bottom. You hold your breath while Mattheo takes several hits. Pansy intakes sharply beside you. It feels like youâre watching in slow motion as the blood on his face spreads. Where the hell did the blood come from??Â
You stand up with a gasp as Mattheo pushes the guy off with the help of a kick with his knee. Before either has a chance to start rolling around on the ground again, they get separated by teammates. You let out a breath of air but a lump remains in your throat as you watch mattheo get help standing up, blood still coating his face.
You're still standing as he scans the crowd again, now making eye contact with you. For a second all he does is look, no smirk or laugh. As you look back, your face heats up. Heâs breathing heavily, chest moving up and down. His hair is messy and a curl is sticking onto his forehead.Â
He swallows heavily before a grin starts to grow on his face. It doesnât reach his eyes and his teeth are bloodied. Your eyebrows draw together in a frown but his grin doesnât fall. You hate the way he got hurt just for the thrill of it.
As you sit back down again, he skates towards the penalty box.
The pain stings through your bottom lip and you stop biting down on it with a wince. The wall next to the Hockey teams medical room is cold against your back but you barely feel it.
In fact, you donât feel much of anything right now. Just a kind of numbness floating through your body, all the way down to your tingly fingertips as you stare at the opposite wall, waiting for the door to open. The wall has a little dried drop of white paint that wasnât smoothed out just above the trim.
You jump up, straightening your back as the door next to you opens. Mattheo steps out of the door and youâre immediately on him, grabbing his shoulders and searching his face for any bruises.
The door falls close behind him.
His right, upper cheek is blotchy and red and he winces when you let your thumb lightly smooth over it. His eyes remain on you, open and unguarded as his Hand twitches beside him.
You can feel his breath on your face, and for a second everything in you remains calm. But then the anger flares up again. âYouâre so- ugh! Why did you do that?â you sigh out, voice quieter and less scolding than you intended. âScared for me, princess?â he smirks, too confident for your liking.
âShut up.â
His smirk widens into an almost giddy smile, stretching the bandage on his top lip as he says âMake me.â
You push him away by his chest in play annoyance, âIm gonna punch you.â
cw: modern au, james is a hockey player, reader and james are engaged, crack and fluff. masterlist
âJames, do you ever wish you were athletic?â you ask, sprawled across the bed, scrolling through your phone while heâs trying to unwind before sleep. Your boredom has turned mischievous, and you want to see just how far you can push him.
James spins around so fast itâs like you hit a switch. His eyebrows shoot up, and his jaw tightens. âWhat do you mean, baby? I am athletic.â
âNo, Jamie,â you say, sitting up just a little, tone teasing. âI mean actually athletic. Like⊠competitive-level, serious endurance, could-handle-anything athletic. Wouldnât it make you⊠happier if you were?â
He blinks, confused at first, then indignation spreads across his face like wildfire. âIf? Have you seen me on the ice? Iâm literally athletic. Professional-grade. Thatâs why I can score, block, skate, andââ
âYeah, yeah,â you interrupt, smirking, âyouâre athletic in that way where you sprint five seconds and call it a warm-up. Or, you know, lift your textbooks like dumbbells and call it strength training. Real athletic? Thatâs a whole different league, isnât it?â
James sits up straighter, the veins in his neck showing. âReal athletic? I am real athletic! Iâm peak condition! I train, I skate, Iâdo you know how fast I can get across the rink? Faster than half the guys on my team!â
You tilt your head, holding back a laugh.
His fists clench on the mattress. âThis is outrageous. Youâre questioning my athleticism? Me, James Potter, fastest, strongest, most coordinated hockey player this country has ever seen?â
âOh, Iâm questioning it,â you say, mock serious, pointing at him. âAnd frankly, I think youâd be happier if you had, like, actual Olympic-level stamina. Youâd finally understand what exhaustion feels like, Jamie.â
He throws himself back on the bed, groaning dramatically. âExhaustion? Iâm exhausted right now from having to deal with you, miss sass-and-snark. Thatâs hardcore athleticism, thank you very much.â
You laugh, leaning over to poke him in the ribs. âYeah, sure. Keep telling yourself that while I run circles around you.â
He sits up abruptly again, narrowing his eyes. âIâll have you know I can sprint, skate, and bench-press my own weight simultaneously. That counts for something, doesnât it?â
You laugh out loud now, shaking your head. âJamie, Iâm not questioning it, Iâm just saying⊠maybe you could be even better?â
âEven better?!â He stops and turns his head towards you, looking like youâve personally attacked his soul.
âI am the best! I have speed, agility, stamina! I can dodge defenders, throw perfect passes, score goals⊠and I still have enough energy to carry you after practice and deal with you! How much more athletic do you need me to be?â
You grin, eyes sparkling with amusement. âI mean⊠maybe someone who doesnât huff and puff just from standing up too fast?â
James freezes. âHuff and puff? When do I even huff and puff?!â
You canât hold it in anymore and laugh outright. âExactly! So why are you offended? I was just asking if you wished you were athletic. Nothing insulting.â
âNo, no, no,â he says, hands flailing in mock outrage. âYouâre insinuating that Iâm not! That Iâm not a professional hockey player! Mind you, because of my athleticism, we live in this big house, and you have this even bigger rock sitting on your finger!â He points at your engagement ring with exaggerated pride.
You lie back, nonchalant, trying not to crack up at how easily riled up he is. Internally, youâre laughing so hard you can barely breathe. Finally, with a small huff, you lay flat on the bed and mutter, âOkay, fine. Sorry, youâre athletic, James.â
He beams, chest puffed up like a peacock. âThank you! I am athletic!â
A quiet settles over the room. You turn around slowly to face him, eyes glinting with mischief. âHey, James⊠can I ask another question?â
He narrows his eyes, suspicious. âWhat now?â
âDo you ever⊠wish you were taller?â
That is all it takes. James shoots upright from the bed, eyes blazing, and sits forward like a man betrayed.
âTake that back, right now, woman! I am six foot two! Do you hear me? Six foot two! How dare you suggest otherwise!â
"i wish i was the only one you looked at like that" with jj
lifeguard!jj (2)
funny james potter blurb
yearning soulmate!james potter
"wasn't staring" with mattheo riddle
Voting ended onSep 2, 2025
(1) jj maybank x reader whoâs busy with two jobs and doesnât have a lot of time for the little things. jj notices sheâs stressed and while sheâs at work he takes a glance at her to do list for the week and finishes most of it + makes dinner (or atleast preps it).
(2) lifeguard!jj who watches you tan and gets distracted flirting with you (heâs hot but youâre only flirting back for fun) but then he gets interrupted by some kids running around asking him questions and heâs so nice and fun to them that the next time he flirts you actually get flustered
we got a lot of options and guys if ur fav doesn't have that many votes just comment saying you really like it or request it in my inbox cause i'll be more likely to write it in the future if you do
you run into the stadium late, breathing heavy and searching for pansy and hopefully a free seat in the crowd of fans. Closing up the coffee shop took longer than expected and you really didnât want to get a âfriendly reminder to closing personnelâ. Itâs just a friendship game after all.
You catch pansyâs freshly dyed purple hair and hurry to her side. She looks up at you with excitement in her eyes and a big smile while moving her bag from the seat next to her. âYou shouldâve seen Mattheo out there. Itâs so funnyâ
You let out a breathy laugh, already having an idea of what she means. âAnother wave of anger issues, I'm guessing?â you ask, with humor coating your voice.
âobviously,â Pansy smiles.
The seat underneath you is cold and a little sticky, causing you to grimace. Moving your focus to the game you can tell what she means, he keeps bumping into people with clear purpose and a tight smile.Â
Mattheo checks the stands while skating across the ring, eyes quickly scanning the crowd and rushing directly past you. He clenches his jaw and looks down at the ice for a split second, before focusing back onto the players around him.
Blaise skates up close to him and mumbles something before patting him on the back but Mattheo only scoffs, in turn causing Blaise to roll his eyes with a deep sigh.
The way Mattheo keeps shaking out his right hand and scanning the opposing players, you can tell heâs looking for a fight. And soon, he gets one.
A player from the other team bumps into the goalie and before youâve even comprehended it, Mattheo is flying at him. He throws him against the wall with blind rage and starts punching. He doesnât care to duck out of the way of the punches thrown back at him, instead simply taking them with only small winces and a crazed look in his eyes.
Mattheo pulls at the guys jersey and keeps swinging. When they both fall down in a bundle of aggression and blind punches, he lands on the bottom. You hold your breath while Mattheo takes several hits. Pansy intakes sharply beside you. It feels like youâre watching in slow motion as the blood on his face spreads. Where the hell did the blood come from??Â
You stand up with a gasp as Mattheo pushes the guy off with the help of a kick with his knee. Before either has a chance to start rolling around on the ground again, they get separated by teammates. You let out a breath of air but a lump remains in your throat as you watch mattheo get help standing up, blood still coating his face.
You're still standing as he scans the crowd again, now making eye contact with you. For a second all he does is look, no smirk or laugh. As you look back, your face heats up. Heâs breathing heavily, chest moving up and down. His hair is messy and a curl is sticking onto his forehead.Â
He swallows heavily before a grin starts to grow on his face. It doesnât reach his eyes and his teeth are bloodied. Your eyebrows draw together in a frown but his grin doesnât fall. You hate the way he got hurt just for the thrill of it.
As you sit back down again, he skates towards the penalty box.
The pain stings through your bottom lip and you stop biting down on it with a wince. The wall next to the Hockey teams medical room is cold against your back but you barely feel it.
In fact, you donât feel much of anything right now. Just a kind of numbness floating through your body, all the way down to your tingly fingertips as you stare at the opposite wall, waiting for the door to open. The wall has a little dried drop of white paint that wasnât smoothed out just above the trim.
You jump up, straightening your back as the door next to you opens. Mattheo steps out of the door and youâre immediately on him, grabbing his shoulders and searching his face for any bruises.
The door falls close behind him.
His right, upper cheek is blotchy and red and he winces when you let your thumb lightly smooth over it. His eyes remain on you, open and unguarded as his Hand twitches beside him.
You can feel his breath on your face, and for a second everything in you remains calm. But then the anger flares up again. âYouâre so- ugh! Why did you do that?â you sigh out, voice quieter and less scolding than you intended. âScared for me, princess?â he smirks, too confident for your liking.
âShut up.â
His smirk widens into an almost giddy smile, stretching the bandage on his top lip as he says âMake me.â
You push him away by his chest in play annoyance, âIm gonna punch you.â
I NEEDED A DOSE OF BARTY TO SURVIVE AND YOU SAVED ME! Btw I love how we all collectively decided that Barty is obsessed with reader not in a loverboy way but in a I-worship-you kinda way
im superr glad you liked my headcanons ALSO i just know barty is the type of guy to literally worship you like you said. Im talking full on his knees BEGGING like YESSS!!!
Barty Crouch x Reader Headcanons - pre relationship (suggestive, 18+)
Barty, who has to physically restrain himself from watching your lips as you talk, committing every dip into his memory. Whenever his eyes flicker down, he drags them back up slowly and painfully, not because the view of your eyes is any less gorgeous, but simply because it's such a painful reminder that he canât just grab and kiss you.
Barty, who looks away whenever you walk away, dramatically falling back and scrunching his eyes closed, so that his eyes donât get caught on the swing of your hips or the curve of your ass.
Barty, who looks for you in every person he's with. Even something as small as a laugh that vaguely sounds like yours gets him going at this point. But afterwards, he's always left with the deep sitting, looming reminder that none of them could ever measure up to you.
Barty, who is so extroverted and blunt when talking to anyone he wants, but you turn him into mush -flirty mush, yes. But mush nonetheless. He melts whenever you smile at him, overplaying it with a big grin or confident wink.
Hiiii!! i'd love to cool off with some ice pops, particularly in the flavour lifeguard!james potter (prompt: pool day) Thank you so much if you do it but obvi no pressure!! Love ya, byeee
hi! ugh i love lifeguard!james of course! <3 decided to make reader a lifeguard too so it's kind of always a pool day for them, hope thatâs okay! also iâm kind of obsessed with their dynamic
James has worked at his local pool every summer since he was old enough to have a job. From his teen years to now, when he comes home from university for the summers.
Having worked there so long, the owners adore him and have a lot of trust in him.
You think that trust is misplaced.
You would have started working as a lifeguard last summer and quickly branded James as your most annoying coworker.
You think that the feeling is mutual, but what you donât know is that to James, youâre the kind of frustrating thatâs more irresistible than irritating.
The main reason why you find James annoying is that he doesnât take this job seriously. He seems to think this job is 50% messing around, 40% flirting with girls in bikinis, and 10% actually watching the pool.
Not to mention, the messing around category includes a lot of messing with you. If bickering were a part of the job description, you and James would be neck and neck for employee of the month.
Although what you call bickering, a lot of your coworkers call foreplay.
You tell them theyâre being ridiculous.
James tells them, âSheâll come around to my charm eventually.â
When you return for your second summer, to the news that James has been promoted to head lifeguard, you are not happy.
âI guess you have to report to me now,â he says smugly when you see him for the first time. And at your displeasure, he taunts you. âDonât tell me you think it should have been you.â
âNo, but it shouldnât have been you,â you respond, and that stupid smirk on his face makes your blood boil.
Needless to say, itâs a very frustrating summer. Jamesâ new title gives him an even bigger head (which you didnât think was possible), and heâs always bossing you around. The worst part is that he has the power to do so.
The turning point in your relationship happens when someone almost drowns while you and James are on duty.
For as long as you worked at the pool, the only âemergenciesâ youâve had to deal with were teens running around the edge and panicked little kids needing to be guided to the pool wall.
But now thereâs a real emergency, and the last thing you ever expected happens. You freeze.
James, on the other hand, is diving in the pool before you could even think to blow your whistle, and the person is already in his arms by the time you even move. It has to have been one of the most heroic things youâve ever seen (but youâd never tell him that).
Youâre quiet for the rest of your shift, and with total sincerity, James checks up on you before you go. You confide in him about hesitating and tell him how disappointed you are in yourself. That you feel like you failed.
You expect him to say something sarcastic or tell you to do better, but instead, he puts his hand on your shoulder and tells you that you have nothing to be ashamed of.
âYou didnât fail today. You froze for a secondâyouâre human. We never know how weâre gonna react to something like that until it happens. But now that it has, I know youâll use this moment and youâll be ready if it happens again. I know that because youâre good at this. One of the best lifeguards we have.â
Your relationship starts to change after that. Youâre still yourselves, but the bickering is more like banter now. Eventually, you see it for what it actually is: flirting.
Or, as your coworkers called it, foreplay. Because, of course, youâre bickering the first time he kisses youâhe cuts you off mid-rant, hands suddenly cupping your cheeks. And what surprised you the most isnât that he does it, but how easily you let him.
It doesnât take long after that for you two to start dating. At first, you keep it quiet. But James has never been a subtle person, and he canât resist showing you affection. Soon, just about every single person you work with is saying the same thing: âItâs about time!â
Now, James seems to think work is 50% stealing kisses when no one is looking, 40% flirting with you, and still 10% watching the pool.
