James is in the middle of a conversation with Remus when you tug his arm.
âJamie?â You say quietly, so only he can hear you.
Jamesâ attention is on you immediately. He turns from Remus, who thankfully is very understanding, to look at you where youâre slouched against him in the diner booth.
âYeah, honey?â
You look up at him, your cheek smooshed into his shoulder. You look awfully cute. You also look awfully tired.
âI donât feel so good,â you say sleepily, a frown tugging at your glossed lips. âGotta headache.â
James thinks his heart breaks into a million pieces. âAw, darling,â he cooes, and lifts his hand thatâs holding yours to kiss the back of your hand. âHow long have you been feeling poorly? Shoulda told me earlier, dovey.â
You shake your head, your cheek pushing further into his shoulder as you do. âNot long. I thought itâd go away by now, though.â
James makes a noise of pity like a hum and lifts his free hand to stroke your face, thumb dragging across the space under your eye. He cups your cheek with his palm. You blink up at him.
âDo you want to go home?â He asks softly, his thumb at the corner of your mouth. âI donât mind.â
You think it over. âUm. Only if you donât mind, Jamie. I donât wanna be a party pooper.â
James laughs through his nose. âYouâre not a party pooper, sweetheart. You feel sick. It canât be helped.â
Youâre clingy as James says his goodbyeâs, as you wave sleepily to his friends, as he guides you out of the diner and into the night air with an arm around your waist. Youâre like a zombie, all droopy and tired and heavy-footed. James helps you into his car, not that you need it but he wants to minimise the amount of things you do in hopes of reducing your migraine.
Once home, James sits you on his bed and finds your pyjamas. He moves to stand in between your legs, hands on your thighs.
âArms up, dove,â he instructs. He knows you donât need the help, but heâs still determined you do the least amount of work possible. Plus, thereâs a certain soft pleasure in looking after you like this. Strangely, James finds it far easier to look after you than it is to look after himself. Itâs like second nature to him.
You do as he asks. He gets you out of your top and swaps it for one of his t-shirts, rumpled and old but itâs your favourite, you claim. His hands climb beneath your shirt to find the waistband of your jeans and he slips those off too.
âJames,â you say, tired but smiling, your eyes half closed, sitting there in nothing but his shirt and your underwear. âTake me to dinner first.â
James grins, hands on your bare thighs. âI just did.â
âOh.â
He gets you into your sleep shorts before you can make any more suggestive jokes.
Ten minutes later youâre both in bed, and James couldnât care less that his night out with friends was cut short.
âFeeling any better, baby?â He asks you, squeezing at a handful of your hip. Your leg is hooked over his and your arm thrown across his chest. Heâs given you painkillers and water but really, he thinks you just need sleep.
You hum contentedly and squish further into his side. âYeah, a bit,â you say. Then youâre lifting your chin so you can look at him, all things soft and pretty. You reach up and bury your fingers in his hair for a moment, pushing his thick curls from his forehead. James stills, a bit lovesick at the sight of you half-asleep on his chest, in his bed with your hands in his hair.
You smile and itâs all James can do not to kiss you silly. âThank you, Jamie,â you say.
James smiles back, chest aching with fondness. He presses a kiss to your hairline and hopes you feel all the love he puts into it. âAny time.â
âjames, i swear to god, if you donât put that cookie down, iâll hex you so hard-â you heard the skittering of feet becoming quieter and quieter as the quidditch player scurried away from the pan of still cooling cookies. that little giggling thief had been at it all day, sneaking little licks from the spoon - that you were still using, mind you - and snatching handfuls of chocolate chips. youâd always find yourself chasing him around the island, waving your wooden spoon like mad. of course, he was too quick and you had to just slow down, catch your breath and get back to baking.
the holiday spirit was strong with you during this time of year, and it came in full force this year. first day of december? the tree is up and the house is all lit up with hundreds of lights. poor james had to deal with carrying everything up from the basement, but come on, what wouldnât he do for you? so, after all the decorations were put up, and their placement adjusted just the right amount of times, your house looked as festive and merry as ever.
when the two of you had come inside from decorating the outside of the house, both of your faces were frozen, and jamesâ face was as bright as a tomato. you had taken his cheeks in your hands and squished them, kind of like kneading some bread dough. that had reminded you that you had all the ingredients to make some fresh bread, and you hurriedly got all the things you needed to start baking. basically, it escalated from bread, to milk bread, to cupcakes, and then finally cookies of all sorts. you were just finishing up with the classic sugar cookie, waiting for them to cool so the two of you could ice them by the light of the christmas tree.
you heard snickering from around the corner and you whipped around to find that one of the cookies was missing. âthat little sneak,â you thought to yourself. you turned your back but kept the tray in your peripheral, just to see what he would do. and whaddya know, a red and green blur went by, the tray moving slightly at the sheer velocity of your partner. you dashed after that christmas sweater clad man, tossing your apron to the side, your hands still, thankfully, covered in flour. âjames, you get your butt back here this instant!!â you yelled, hot on his tail.
he squealed, vaulting over the couch, stuffing the rest of the cookie into his mouth, crumbs falling onto his sweater. his giggled rang throughout the living room, bringing a smile to your face. âyou little rascal, you were supposed to wait for those to cool!â you waved a flour covered finger at him. he mocked you, waving his finger overdramatically and sticking his tongue out. âoh, now youâve done it,â
you leapt over the couch, and tackled him to the rug covered floor. you gently tapped at his face with your flour dusted hands, the white dust settling on his face in handprints. âoi!! watch it, youâll damage the money maker!â his attempts were futile, but he wasnât complaining. âthis is something that would happen in one of our hallmark movies, isnât it?â he looked up at you, the lights from the tree reflecting in his deep eyes. âabsolutely breathtaking,â you thought, your hand coming up to caress his locks, until he weakly slapped your hand away. âkeep your floury paws out of my luscious locks, you little devil. no one messes with my hair-â you started scratching his scalp, and his eyes rolled back, and a smile bloomed on his face.
âyou really are childish arenât you, jamie? you asked his blissed out self. you swore that if youâd kept going, he wouldâve started kicking his leg like a little puppy. âhey now, iâm not any sort of âishâ, iâm more refined than that. how about, childlike? that sounds more sophisticated, more couth, more- oi!!â youâd now started tickling his belly, and he desperately tried to get you to stop. the two of you continued your tickle fight, the now cool cookies long forgotten. it was just the two of you under the light of the christmas tree, and the warmth of the fire.
Reader has a similar style to sabrina carpenter vs the marauders are more rock band type they never interacted before until the Grammys (or similar show) reader is set to perform 2 songs because shes super famous and popular and overheard the marauders fighting with the stage crew or manager since there was a mix up and they don't have a time spot to perform. The Marauders being fairly new band needed to perform tonight to get their big break and reader goes and offers one of their spots to them so instead of performing 2 songs reader only perform 1 but tells them they won't have enough time to change the set or set up so they'll have to be on stage with her ready to perform with their instruments. The Marauders are super thankful and one of them is a big fan so he tries acting cool but fails. Once on stage reader is singing and including the marauders into the performance so they dont look awkward just standing with their instruments. Once its their turn reader goes off stage but stays to watch them and end up loving their music so when they get off stage reader gives them her number to stay in contact and offers to have them as her opening in a future tour
OR reader is vibing with the marauders song off stage but some fans get a good angle of her so they post it online and after the marauders see the video of her dancing to their music and are super happy and one of the marauders is super blush and shy. And they notice she started following them and posted the video of their performance saying they were her new favorite band.
Maybe part 2 where she keeps in contact and one of the marauders develops a huge crush on her and see her again at a different event and she goes up to say hi
Please feel free to use and alter my idea just tag me so I can read it!!
stop flirting with the nurse, itâs embarrassing.
itâs hard to act cool if jamesâ beautiful, hot nurse can hear his heart rate.
tags: james potter x gn!reader,, modern au,, hospitals,, nurse!reader,, remus pov,, melodramatic sirius and peter,, fluffy,, crack(?),, short around 1.3k wc,, no mentions of y/n
a/n: contrary to the title, there are no flirting just james being awkward lol,, i have no idea about the process of how vital checking goes sorry,, finding photos for this probably took longer than writing the fic itself rip.
it is to be noted that remus, resignedly, accepted it was only a matter of time before james got hospitalized for his recklessness.
now, with sirius and peter on either side of him, they wait for james to gain consciousness from his surgical procedure. it was a minor one, hardly one that needed 24/7 surveillance that sirius begged him to be a part of nor is the blubbering phone call from peter about james dying. the doctors even said he could be discharged the same day, if he woke up within the hour or so.
but remus is nothing but a people-pleaser. so, he stayed to watch over james as sirius requested and comforted peter that their loud, obnoxious (/fond) friend will wake up soon.
the room ridiculously quiet, a word rarely used as an adjective if they were involved, but it was. the only sound in the room, is the constant slow stream of the heart monitor and jamesâ soft breathing. remus can attribute this peace that the unnecessarily frantic and ballistic duo has now gone to sleep on the hospitalâs stiff couch.
your head poked in first through the curtain before offering the gentlest smile and a silent request for you to come closer. you had been nothing but kind and attentive, to the point you were somewhat spoiling his overdramatic friends and their bemoaning about death and pain.
acknowledging their concerns with facts, reassurances, and empathic smiles. though he couldnât miss the twitch of your lips as you try and stop, what remus imagines is a bellowing laughter at their dramatic reactions over jamesâ âdemise.â not that remus blames you if you did let out a little laugh, it was getting theatric for a simple, small, and successful surgery. but he understands that professionalism comes first, such reactions might not be appropriate.
âwell, everything seems fine here. your friend should be waking up anytime soon, if he does, donât hesitate to ring us over so we can have him checked and he can be discharged. but before i leave the room, do you want me to do anything for you, any questions or concerns?â you say, voice gentle and firm
âno, weâre good, thank you.â
you nodded and gave a pretty smile, âokay then.â
you adjusted the curtain to close it fully, giving a stirring james and the sleeping visitors some privacy.
it wasnât long before james woke up, groaning and stretching as if he had just been napping. albeit, a little delirious still, from the anesthesia no doubt.
he had opened his eyes now, unnaturally drooping and hazed, remus reached over and thwacked sirius and peter on their heads, âjamesâ awake.â he hums, giving nothing but an innocent looking smile as they glare for their rude awakening.
any sort of complaints from the smack quickly died out when they saw james, crowding over him and hugging him as if heâs been gone for 3 years and not 3 hours.
peter grabs jamesâ hands and recounts his experience of how he heard the news (from a text). at the same time with sirius exclaiming,
âoh, iâm so relieved youâre alright!â sirius cries, cradling jamesâ head to his chest, nuzzling through the knotted mass of curls to which remus only rolls his eyes at the theatrics of it all.
leaving remus no choice but to call you back into their section and have him checked for the last time.
âiâm fine,â james rasps, giving a sleepy smile and sluggishly patting both of the melodramatic thespians as comfort.
he looked fine, his hair no doubt knotted, his lips cracked dry but still rosy-cheeked.
when you arrived, sirius and peter have behaved themselves to sit down on the chair beside jamesâ bed. you slid the curtains fully, letting the light into their area. the fluorescent lights behind your head creating a soft halo as you kindly smile at james.
he looked to be stuck in a dazed trance. eyes still drooping but wider than when he first woke up, mouth slightly open, and body seemed to be frozen in place.
at first, remus thought of this due to the lingering effects of anesthetics but heard jamesâ heart rate steadily increase in speed.
the beeping machine seemingly louder now than before.
âhello, james. how are you feeling?â you hum, walking to go near him to do your routine check up.
the beeping seem to have picked up in speed as you neared his bed.
remus looked to the others to see if they noticed. the three of them, doing their best to cover their mouths to muffle their laughter.
â..âm fine..â james mumbled, starry-eyed gaze stuck to your face as you check his file and vitals.
âno pain? or headaches? any discomfort?â you ask, jotting down notes.
âjusâ perfect. â he said, sounding a bit breathless.
the beeping was just going incrementally faster, the nearer you go to him.
you look at the monitor, face looking confused and worried all the same. âis it okay if i touch you? iâm just going to check on something really quick.â
the beeping stops for 2 whole seconds before continuing its raging beats. by now the three boys are having a field day, face red from the silent laughter and disbelief.
his heart literally skipped a beat, what even is this guy really? remus amusedly thinks to himself.
james couldnât seem to say anything but give a measly nod. you grab your stethoscope, and listened to his raging heartbeat to see if anything was wrong. but jamesâ heart rate just seemed to have gained more momentum as you gently place your hand on his shoulder.
you move away, and slowly the heart rate slowed down, but still fast enough that you looked at him in slight concern.
âyour heart rates a bit fast,â you noted, looking straight at him.
jamesâ, oh sweet james, cheeks bloomed a glowing red and bashfully looked down.
you wrapped the stethoscope around your neck again and gave him a sweet, reassuring smile, âbut other than that, everything looks to be in order. iâll bring over the papers you have to sign and then you guys are free to go.â
when you finally walked away, james heart rate seemed to slow down to the normal speed once more. lolling his head to the side, as he groans in utter embarrassment and self-loathing.
âwhat is wrong with me?â he groans, cheeks still aflame.
sirius smirks, âyour usual weakness to utter babes, thatâs what.â
âyour heart was going so fast i thought it was going to pop.â peter gushed laughing.
james playing with his starchy blanket, muttering lowly, âyou think the pretty nurse heard that?â
the boys snorts out a laugh,
âi think the whole bloody hospital heard it mate,â remus cackled.
you came into view again, attending to another patient checking their vitals. offering the same kind of glowwy smile you gave them not a minute ago.
and because james just loves torturing himself, his gaze lands on you again. the same dazed look, body frozen but his eyes actively following your every move. the boys heard his heart rateâthe beeping sounds picking up again.
this time sirius couldnât stop his bark of laughter, causing you to look over them, curious.
your gaze connecting with james for a solid second.
they heard the monitor give another long pause before resuming its fast beeps. remus shook his head laughing, telling you not to worry.
you give remus a small nod, before looking over at his flustered friend, giving james a smaller, but somehow the sweetest smile you showed all day and abashedly looking away.
and james looking undeniably enamoured by your brief exchange. letting his tongue wet his dry lips as a giddy, rather boyish smile erupts from his face.
hopefully, this doesnât give james more reason to be reckless and get himself admitted to the hospital more often. but if he does, at least itâll be a funny story.
âstop itâ : ââŠbut I love youâ w james potterđđŒđ
he is a little angel
pairing: james potter x gn!reader
warnings: none!
âââââ
James was always needy. That was no surprise to anyone in your circle. Especially when it came to you.
Of course, you usually loved to indulge him! He was so sweet and soft when it came to you, and always wanted to be by your side. But⊠some days you needed to actually get work done without a needy boyfriend trying to be on you.
You sat in the boysâs dorm, trying to help Sirius study for the potions exam on Friday. He was usually pretty good in that class, but a bout of migraines had caused him to miss a couple classes that week.
âOkay, so⊠no,â you shake your head while quizzing him, showing him the book. âItâs crushed moonstone and then four stirs counterclockwise.â
Sirius groaned, about to open his mouth when Jamesâs arms snaked around your shoulders, pressing several kisses to your cheek.
âJames⊠Cut it out,â you sighed, pushing him away. âIâm trying to help Sirius.â
âIâm gonna fail this test,â Sirius grumbled, his face in his hands.
You pulled his hands away from his face.
âNo, you wonât,â you state.
James meanwhile sat pouting next to you. He didnât like being pushed away.
âCanât I just hold you? I wonât bother you,â James said, reaching for your hand.
You sighed. âJamie. Pads needs help. I canât do that when youâre trying to be all over me.â
âPlease?â
You shook your head. âFine. But you canât distract me.â
He smiled, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist with his chin on your shoulder. You continued with trying to help Sirius, and to your merit, he was improving a little. But it was getting increasingly hard to focus on the task at hand with James constantly moving and snuggling you like a needy child.
Your breaking point came when he started trying to kiss your neck while you were going over the properties of pearl dust.
âJames,â you snap softly. âIâm trying to help. Stop it.â
ââŠbut I love you,â he pouted, shrinking in on himself a little.
Sirius sighed, looking at his friend with a roll of his eyes. He glanced back at you.
âGo on and take care of the big baby. My brain is fried anyway, I need a nap,â Sirius said, dropping down face first on his bed.
James looked a little offended. âIâm not a baby.â
You huffed a breath. âYouâre my baby. Letâs go cuddle, you massive dork.â
He smiled brightly, taking your hand and practically dragging you to his bed.
Hii, can I request a James potter x reader where he gets jealous and tries to make reader jealous but it just leads to miscommunication but at the end everything works out maybe smut. Is totally okay if you donât want to. Take care, have a nice day <33
Pairing: James potter x gn!reader
Warnings: jealousy, pettiness, no smut but a make out session (0.4k words)
Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated<3
James watched as you bite your tongue as he explained to you that it was nothing serious, you could tell he was lying and he knew that you knew but a part of him liked watching you try to hold back. Since he wasn't your boyfriend you couldn't yell at him for spending time with someone else but when you saw him with her, you almost lost it.
Little did you know, all of this started a week prior. James had seen you out to lunch with a coworker and immediately thought the worse, he felt so betrayed that you were out with another man even if he wasn't your boyfriend. He had to stop himself for confrontation you and the man, he went home and decided he wanted you to feel what he felt. He knew it was petty but he didn't care, he had to make the hurt stop. So he asked one of the ladies in his office out to a friendly dinner, and he just so happened to take her to the same restaurant you frequented often. He knew it was a risk because he wasn't certain if you were even going to be there tonight, but then he saw you. And you saw him.
Now the two of you were in his living room arguing about how you both feel like the other is taking these situations out of proportion.
"Honestly I don't even know why you care so much," James starts but you cut him off
"Because I love you!" You blurt out and immediately bring your hand up to your mouth as you realize what you just said.
James' eyes widen and his mouth goes dry as he hears those words leave your mouth "you- you love me?"
You take a deep breath to collect yourself before nodding "yeah... I love you, James" you swallow the spit building in your mouth "I always have"
You could see his thoughts written on his face, he was trying to process all of this in such a short time. You felt like you could feel the seconds passing before he responded, but he responded with actions not words. James gently grabs your arm and pulls you into him and immediately connected his lips to yours. You were taken by surprise but melted into the kiss, you wrap your arms around his neck holding him close as the kiss becomes more passionate. His tongue found its way into your mouth and moved in sync with yours, he snakes his arms around your waist and holds you tight. You couldnât believe how much bliss you felt in this moment, you had almost completely forgotten about the argument you just had.
Eventually you both pulled back for air, your chests rising and falling against each otherâs, James looked deeply into your eyes and you could feel everything with that one look.
âI love you tooâ he whispers before going in for another kiss.
summary: james joins you on a window sill for a night of quiet confessions in the gryffindor common room.
warnings: smoking, mention of a break up
masterlist
đđ
"Alright?"
You turned away from the open window, seeing your friend, the one and only James Potter.
âDebatable,â you said sarcastically, flicking your cigarette ashes out the window. You turned back around, your legs kicking slightly into the air as they swung. James stood behind you, watching you, as if hoping if he stared long enough, heâd be able to tell what was going on in your head.
âScoot over,â he said, gently tapping your side. You complied, pushing yourself against the wall of the castle so he could join you on the ledge. The two of you barely fit- both of your bodies pushed against each other. James held out his hand and you passed him the cigarette.
âMe and Benjy broke up again,â you said, breaking the silence as James took a drag. James choked on the smoke in his throat.
âR-Really?â he said, coughing. You didnât turn to look at him, your eyes focused on the Forbidden Forest in the distance. You nodded.
âFinally got sick of him blowing me off to join in with that stupid prank war you lot have going on.â
James had to stop himself from smiling at the mention of the thing that had been occupying most of his and his friends' time in their all-in-good-fun battle against some of their Slytherin friends. You guys were close, sure, but not close enough for him to realize something like that had been bothering you. He passed the cigarette back to you.
âMaybe itâs for the best,â you sighed, breathing in the chemicals from the stick in your hands. âIt is like the third time weâve split anyway.â You and James both cracked a smile at the mention of your on-again-off-again relationship.
âHe didnât deserve you anyway,â James said, gazing at the side of your face. You chuckled.
âYou sound like Moony,â you said, passing back the cig without looking at him.
âWell, thatâs because Moonyâs always right, isnât he?â he joked, nudging your arm with his. You laughed lightly.
âWhat would we do without our Moony?â you asked, your breath fogging up in front of you. You brought your hands up to rub your upper arms before squeezing your chilly hands in your lap.
âYou cold?â James asked, already moving to take off his jacket. You quickly grabbed both his arm and the ledge of the window in an attempt to steady yourself.
âJames! Iâm fine, but we do not have room for that!â you said, your heart racing for a moment at how unsteady you suddenly felt. Or maybe it was the grip you now had on his arm. He slid his jacket back over his shoulders, chuckling lightly, but you didnât release him.
âOkay, okay, excuse me for trying to be a gentleman,â he said sarcastically. You linked your arm through his using the hand that was gripping his bicep.
âYou can be a gentleman when weâre not over fifty feet above the ground,â you grumbled, instinctively pulling him closer to you with your linked arms.
âYouâre the wanker who decided to sit up here and have a smoke, Iâm only the wanker that decided to join you,â he said, his face flushing slightly at your close proximity.
âHa-ha,â you said sardonically. A peaceful silence fell over the two of you, the cigarette that mustâve been dropped to the ground during your panic no longer filling the void between conversations.
âIf I was your boyfriend, Iâd put you before everything, even if it meant the Slytherinâs won the prank war, the house cup, and the quidditch cup,â he said, almost proudly. It was now your turn to look at the side of his face as he stared into the distance.
âDonât do that, James,â you said, barely above a whisper.
âDo what?â he asked, finally turning to look at you.
âThis,â you said, unlinking your arms. You immediately felt colder. âBeing sweet- being a gentleman- comforting me, flirting with me and then turning around and spending all your time infatuated with my best friend.â You stared into his eyes, almost pleading with him to say exactly what you wanted to hear. What youâve wanted to hear for the past four years.
That he liked you- that he loved you, that he wanted to be with you and spend time with you. That he wanted you.
âIâm sorry,â was all he said. You couldnât seem to pull your eyes away as much as you wanted to. He reached up and tucked a loose lock of hair that had fallen into your face behind your ear. You didnât swat him away like you normally would have, even when he kept his hand there longer than needed.
âJames,â you said, watching as his eyes fell from yours to your lips. You opened your mouth to finish your thought, but your words were muted by his lips.
Your mind was blank as you kissed back. Your body went into autopilot as you reached a hand up to run your hand through his curly hair. It wasnât until his tongue entered your mouth that you came to.
âJames,â you muttered, tugging on his hair gently so he would release your mouth. He hummed, kissing the corner of your mouth and beginning to make his way down towards your neck. âJames,â you said again, more firmly this time. He finally pulled back, his face flushed and his hair messier than usually. He kept both of his hands to your face, the pads of his thumbs gently brushing over the skin of your cheeks as if to prove that this was real.
âI wonât be your second choice,â you said, trying your best to not instinctively lean into his touch.
âYou wonât be,â he said, his left hand moving down to trace to the curve of your bottom lip. âI swear.â This time your lips were the ones to meet his. You may have been blinded by your own enchantment to trust him so easily, but you did. You trusted him with everything.
The kiss quickly became intense again, Jamesâ tongue exploring your mouth and your fingers tugging at the hair at the back of his head in an effort to pull him ever closer to you. Youâd almost forgotten you were so high into the air until only the right side of your back hit the wall behind you.
âJames,â you laughed into his mouth. He smiled as he once again began kissing his way down your jaw to your neck. âWe should go inside.â He pulled back, looking into your eyes. He smiled, pushing his lips to yours again. You tried to laugh and protest, but it was all muffled by his mouth on yours. He tugged at your leg, you complying with his movements.
Not such a gentleman now, are you? you thought to yourself jokingly as you allowed James to spread your legs so you were straddling the window ledge. He turned the two of you to face inward back into the common room. You both slid slowly off the ledge until your feet hit the ground, your lips not leaving his. He began lightly pushing you backwards, leading you towards one of the common room couches. Your knees buckled as they hit the red cushions, allowing James to lay you down on the sofa.
âYouâre a wanker,â you said, laughing as he situated himself on top of you. He smiled down at you and laughed, kissing you again. It wasnât as deep or as passionate, but it was just as sweet.
He pulled back, his forehead resting in yours.
âIâve fancied you since we were twelve,â he said, his arms on either side of your head holding himself up. Your cheeks flushed at his words. âAnd I think Iâve loved you since we were fifteen. I liked Lily, sure, but she was never you.â It was your turn to reach up and brush a loose curl away from his eyes.
âThe real reason me and Benjy broke up,â you started, âwas because I felt I couldnât properly love him. Not when my eyes were not someone else.â You drew your hands back around his head, pulling him closer to you. He rested his head against your shoulder, the rest of his body limp on yours.
It was comfortable, peaceful even. You fell asleep there, together. Everything seemed right- as if it was meant to be that way.
husband!james potter assembling furniture in the living room while you sit on the kitchen counter watching him. husband!james potter who comes home from work every day with a weary smile and a kiss to your forehead. husband!james potter who can't help but adore every inch of your body. husband!james potter who makes the marauders sick with sweetness at the way he talks about you. husband!james potter who pretends to love your cooking even if it's bad. husband!james potter being such a caring dad. husband!james potter saying flirty things and getting whacked with a wash rag twenty times a day. husband!james potter staring at you with a dreamy smile at random points of the day.
omfggg congrats on 500, you deserve it and a lot more <3 can I request eclipse with the fluff prompt 'you can hold my hand, if you want' and my mans the one and only james potter?? I've been in a huge james mood lately and I need some more đ„Ž
Just ask | James Potter
join the celebration!
ECLIPSE â send me a prompt and a character from any of these lists and iâll write a blurb/drabble for you!
thank you sm!! ily ahh <33 i love this prompt itâs so james
summary :: you donât like pda all that much. james warms you up to it though.
warnings/tags :: gn!reader
You never really were one for PDA. Especially being so fresh into your first-ever relationship. It felt really foreign for you to be with someone who, no matter where they were, wanted to show you how much they liked you.
James knew this as well. He knew how you struggled to show your love outside of any private setting. And being the lovely, caring boyfriend he was, was more than happy to let you keep the public affections to a minimum. More love I get to give you at home, heâd say.
You really were trying to become more comfortable with it. Sometimes you could tell when James really wanted to throw his arm around you when out for drinks, or how he would pout when he wanted to kiss you when lining up at the shops
And then suddenly youâd felt yourself allowing to be more open to letting him do it. You just really struggled to ask him. Struggled to ask him for a kiss when you didnât even know how to. Kiss me. Kiss me, James. Please? Could I have a kiss? It all felt too needy.
James was ever the observer, though.
Youâre sitting across from each other in a small, local cafe. Pressed into a booth up against a large window pane, the sun beating down on the both of you. James looks very pretty with the sunâs rays bouncing off his glasses and freckles. Itâs troubling you.
Thereâs only a few customers, their hushed conversations and the whirring of the coffee grinder is all that can be heard. You were very relaxed. Almost too much.
James splays his hand across the small table and gestures to your mug of tea that had just been sat down. âWait, it might be too hot.â
He slides it towards himself and the ceramics scrape along the tiles. He raises it to his mouth and sips gently, wincing when it seemingly burns his mouth. He blows on it and you laugh.
âI know how to drink tea, James.â You giggle.
âI know, but canât have you burning those pretty lips. What would I kiss then?â Iâm about to burn them on purpose just for an excuse for you to kiss me right now, you think.
His plastic to-go cup is half empty. You donât know why he gets it to take away, like heâs not going to be done before you leave. He drinks like itâs his last. You take it while he has yours. Itâs a cold contrast compared to your tea. Something iced. You sip it and your face crinkles.
âHow many sugars did you ask for?â You laugh.
He grins, taking it back off you, âFour.â
âFour?!â You guffaw. Taking your own back, hesitantly he gives it to you.
âTheir drinks are strong here.â He defends, nudging your leg with his under the table.
âThatâs more sugar than coffee.â
He smiles and you uncharacteristically have to fight the urge to kiss the redness of his cheeks. And ignore how you want him to kiss you. It feels weird and it pains your throat when you struggle to find the words to ask him.
James notices your leg bouncing under the table and can see your fingers flexing around your mug, tips red where it almost burns.
âYou okay?â He frowns, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose.
You nod and when he says, âDo you want a kiss?â You shake your head, betraying your thoughts just two minutes prior.
You remember where you are, and despite the very much low-key setting, a room full of no more than twelve people, it still daunts you. You hate it.
James pouts and you feel bad. Itâd probably be easier if he wasnât so far away. Maybe three centimetres closer and youâd make the move and peck his cheek.
James seems to think for a moment before he lays his hand palm up on the table, his skin pressing into the cold mosaic tile, âYou can hold my hand, if you want.â
You look down at his hand, and then up at his smiling face, and then back down at his hand when he wriggles his fingers. You think this is a much better alternative.
Your hand tangles through his, fingers curling around each other. He squeezes reassuringly, smiling when your leg stops bouncing and you relax. He seems a little too pleased.
âYou know,â He stops, moving closer until his knees are pressing into yours, âIf you ever want me to kiss you or just hold hands. Hell, if you even want to pull my hair. All you have to do is ask, sweetheart.â He chuckles and you can tell he means it.
âI know, I just.â You breathe, the taste of tea leaves strong on your tongue, âI feel stupid sometimes. You wonât want me to kiss you every time I want to.â
James puts on a faux offence, âOf course I would.â He pulls your entwined hand to his mouth and kisses the back of your hand and it surprises you how much you donât feel bothered. It feels nice. âKiss me whenever. Even when Iâm mid conversation. Iâm probably only talking shit, anyways.â
You smile and then itâs your turn to kiss the back of his hand. He looks too happy and it warms you more than your drink.
âSo the hair pulling can happen outside of your bedroom?â You laugh when he startles a little. Eyes creased, his mouth parted.
âYou minx.â He gasps, âThatâs my dirty little secret.â
midday at the beachâyou were sprawled across your towel, arm across your face blocking the sun from your eyes, listening to the shallow waves lap against the sand a mere few metres away from you. the air was warm, holding you in a comforting embrace youâd missed these long months, especially after a particularly cold spring.
surprisingly, the beach was rather deserted. but, you supposed, after a moment thinking on it, it wasnât so unusual for people to be at work on a tuesday afternoon and children to be in school in early june, despite the luscious weather. it was a pleasant surprise, really, for it meant you had the beach mostly to yourselves.
âhey,â james said, standing over you.
opening your eyes, you saw james holding two ice lollies, one orange and one blue. he held out the orange ice lolly to you and you accepted gratefully, sitting up to eat the little treat.
âhave you exerted yourself now?â you asked.
james had been playing in the water for nearly three hours before he had gone to buy you two something cold to eat. youâd joined him for a while, but had spent the last hour reading and sunbathing. relaxing.
âprobably. at least for ten minutes.â
âonly ten?!â you laughed, juice from your melting ice lolly slipping down your chin as you did so.
âwhat?! i love the beach,â he defended himself, chuckling.
âwe should have bought you a sand bucket and goggles.â
ânext time, my love,â he beamed. âwe will be coming back, you can be sure of that.â
you giggled, licking your ice lolly again, not doubting for a second that you would become very familiar with this beach and the town around it over the summer. not that you minded in the slightest. james had a way of making everything fun, even if you had previously thought it to be the worst idea on the planetâhe would show you otherwise.
âfinished,â said james, slipping the ice lolly stick in your bag so he wouldnât forget it later. âwhat are you laughing at?â
âyouâve- youâve got blue all over your lips and tongue,â you sniggered, putting your stick in the bag as well.
âhave i?â he laughed, trying to wipe it away. âam i getting it?â
âno!â you giggled, leaning over to try to see if you could wipe it away with your thumb, but to no avail.
âmaybe if you kissed me, that might make it go away,â he winked, leaning his body weight on his arm and his head on his shoulder.
he looked up at you mischievously, a smirk growing on his faceâit made you fold, like always, so easily. leaning down, you kissed him softly and slowly, lingering there for a long moment before pulling away.
âi donât think that worked,â you whispered.
âno?â he asked innocently, leaning in again, caressing your neck.
you shook your head before his lips met yours again, this time kissing quicker, a little flurry. and when he pulled away, it was no different, just as the two of you knew it wouldnât be. and then james jumped up, pulled you up with him and declared a race, ignoring the blue that stained his skin.
âwhat does the winner get?â
âanother ice lolly,â said james.
you nodded firmly, getting into position. james counted down from three slowly, and when he reached one, the two of you set off towards the ocean. james, with all his lean muscles and quidditch training physique, had the upper hand. you both knew this from the start, but it didnât matter. because you knew as soon as he reached the water, heâd chant and cheer and boast, waiting for you to follow him in. and then heâd pick you up and twirl you around, rustle up your hair, probably dunk you in the water, and then demand his ice lolly.
because he was always declaring a race. whether it was back to your dorm, back to your house, to the shop down the street, to the tree in the distance. and this was always how it went. and you didnât care that you always lost, because at the end, youâd always get a twirl and a kiss.
summary: the one where emotional exhaustion's got nothing on james potter [1.1k]
warnings: emotionally draining parents, shit-ton of fluff.
âïž
you don't remember sitting down. somewhere between your key slotting into the lock and staring at the lit but silent tv screen, you collapse onto the couch. the only other lights in the apartment are the hallway lights, spilling onto the carpet under your feet from the open doorway. there's music accompanying it, quiet but grungy.
it's been a long day. you've fallen out of the emotional work that it takes to exist around your parents; constantly analyzing the words you say before they spill out isn't something you do every day. thinking ahead of every decision and playing out every action is less customary than before, and now you can see why you got so drained so quickly before you left. it's strange, not knowing how much you think about every aspect of existing before you actually exist until you don't have to do it anymore. it's almost sad.
there's something sad under the exhaustion but you don't have the energy to dig it out.
your head drops back, sliding forward so it's leaning on the back of the couch. it feels like there's a weight that is shed off you at the front door that you didn't notice until it was gone. the song playing is from one of james's records and you smile tiredly recognizing it; he plays it so often you could mouth the words in your sleep. you half wish you'd stayed here with him instead of leaving, reading in bed while he talked about his games or his friends or his thoughts. you would've gone out with him under the pretense of helping him train, just watching him and attempting his workouts after so you could see the fond smile he gives you when you try.
the man of the hour says your name, sounding like he's said it before and you didn't hear it the first couple of times. you open your eyes -- when did you close them? -- to see him standing at the doorway, the light that was spilling out onto the carpet sneaking past him and shining from behind him. he looks like an angel, halo light softly illuminating his curls and the soft, worried smile he gives you.
you have half a mind to call him angel, to see the way he smiles when you compliment him. james has a really nice smile. "hi," you say instead, quietly.
his smile slips into something fond, three steps to the left of the smile he gives you when he's flustered. that's just as good. "you look exhausted," he says.
"you're so sweet to me."
he walks up to you, flicking one of the lamps in the corner on as he does. it's not bright enough to have you flinching away from it, just enough that you can see the way he runs a hand through his hair, the design on his t-shirt, the pants you tend to steal so you can match. when he's looming over you and you still don't move, melted into the couch, he grins the way he does when he's got an idea he thinks is fucking hilarious, and he sits right on your lap. he's straddling you, the way you do him often enough that it is muscle memory, still looming over you.
his whole weight is on your lap. the couch is soft enough that you can handle it, and you're used to it. you like it when he lays on you while you're sleeping, like this weighted blanket with horrible sight and great hair and arms that always seem two seconds away from ripping apart his sleeves. he knows you can handle it, that you like it most of the time. the weight helps ground you on days like this when you're exhausted and need to not have to choose.
his hands cradle your head softly, slipping up your neck, thumbs right by your ears and his palm right under your jaw. "hi there, darling," he whispers. his voice is deep and almost disappears into the dark.
"hi," you whisper back, even quieter than before. it's barely enough breath to be a sigh. he tilts your head up and kisses you, languid and deep. you love all the ways he kisses you, sometimes quick and energetic that gets you feeling like you chugged caffeine for three straight hours, sometimes like this. kisses like this are like sinking into bed after walking around all day, finally getting off your feet, getting to breathe again, and only having to focus on the way the air feels in your lungs. your heart stutters in your chest when he pulls you closer, his shoulder drawing up like he wants to drag you into him. you know he can feel the way your heart jerks.
he pulls away, just enough that his lips are brushing over yours, and he comes back and kisses you again and again. you're warm all over, like stretching out in the sun, and your brain is gone. fully mush. you almost can't remember why you were upset in the first place, with the way his lips are sealed up on yours and the way he explores your mouth, not like he's devouring you but like he's bringing you back. this is where you belong, just wrapped up in the place you chose together.
your hands come up around his waist, under the shirt, and you feel him smile into your mouth. "someone's eager," he murmurs. you would tease him back, ask who's on whose lap, but he's not kissing you anymore and that's unacceptable right now. instead, you hum, pout a little, and he grins and pulls you back in.
thousands of years later, he pulls away again. one of your hands is wrapped up in his hair, the other still on his waist like he does with you sometimes. his skin is warm and soft under your palm, and when your brain logs back online, you realize you're drawing nonsense designs on the skin with your nails, scraping over his skin and soothing the goosebumps that follow. your chest feels like a warm bath, hot enough to almost sting. you don't know how you can still breathe.
"better?" he murmurs, smiling at the way your eyes have glazed over, the way you track his lips and lean forward, tugging on his waist.
"immensely," you tell him, "do it again, please."
the musician isn't singing anymore, just an electric guitar that sounds as gentle as he deserves, drifting down the hall and wrapping around the both of you like your blankets do when it's freezing outside. james leans in again, right as the chords sound like falling, silver stars.
âïž
thank you so much for reading! this is entirely projecting because i'm the kind of person who loves it when people sit on my lap. it's really comforting.
James is in the middle of a conversation with Remus when you tug his arm.
âJamie?â You say quietly, so only he can hear you.
Jamesâ attention is on you immediately. He turns from Remus, who thankfully is very understanding, to look at you where youâre slouched against him in the diner booth.
âYeah, honey?â
You look up at him, your cheek smooshed into his shoulder. You look awfully cute. You also look awfully tired.
âI donât feel so good,â you say sleepily, a frown tugging at your glossed lips. âGotta headache.â
James thinks his heart breaks into a million pieces. âAw, darling,â he cooes, and lifts his hand thatâs holding yours to kiss the back of your hand. âHow long have you been feeling poorly? Shoulda told me earlier, dovey.â
You shake your head, your cheek pushing further into his shoulder as you do. âNot long. I thought itâd go away by now, though.â
James makes a noise of pity like a hum and lifts his free hand to stroke your face, thumb dragging across the space under your eye. He cups your cheek with his palm. You blink up at him.
âDo you want to go home?â He asks softly, his thumb at the corner of your mouth. âI donât mind.â
You think it over. âUm. Only if you donât mind, Jamie. I donât wanna be a party pooper.â
James laughs through his nose. âYouâre not a party pooper, sweetheart. You feel sick. It canât be helped.â
Youâre clingy as James says his goodbyeâs, as you wave sleepily to his friends, as he guides you out of the diner and into the night air with an arm around your waist. Youâre like a zombie, all droopy and tired and heavy-footed. James helps you into his car, not that you need it but he wants to minimise the amount of things you do in hopes of reducing your migraine.
Once home, James sits you on his bed and finds your pyjamas. He moves to stand in between your legs, hands on your thighs.
âArms up, dove,â he instructs. He knows you donât need the help, but heâs still determined you do the least amount of work possible. Plus, thereâs a certain soft pleasure in looking after you like this. Strangely, James finds it far easier to look after you than it is to look after himself. Itâs like second nature to him.
You do as he asks. He gets you out of your top and swaps it for one of his t-shirts, rumpled and old but itâs your favourite, you claim. His hands climb beneath your shirt to find the waistband of your jeans and he slips those off too.
âJames,â you say, tired but smiling, your eyes half closed, sitting there in nothing but his shirt and your underwear. âTake me to dinner first.â
James grins, hands on your bare thighs. âI just did.â
âOh.â
He gets you into your sleep shorts before you can make any more suggestive jokes.
Ten minutes later youâre both in bed, and James couldnât care less that his night out with friends was cut short.
âFeeling any better, baby?â He asks you, squeezing at a handful of your hip. Your leg is hooked over his and your arm thrown across his chest. Heâs given you painkillers and water but really, he thinks you just need sleep.
You hum contentedly and squish further into his side. âYeah, a bit,â you say. Then youâre lifting your chin so you can look at him, all things soft and pretty. You reach up and bury your fingers in his hair for a moment, pushing his thick curls from his forehead. James stills, a bit lovesick at the sight of you half-asleep on his chest, in his bed with your hands in his hair.
You smile and itâs all James can do not to kiss you silly. âThank you, Jamie,â you say.
James smiles back, chest aching with fondness. He presses a kiss to your hairline and hopes you feel all the love he puts into it. âAny time.â
James potter is a holding hands all the time whenever possible BF!
i said hand too many times in this sorry.
james potter holds your hands when! in the morning as soon as he wakes up, heâs blindly searching for your hand pinned between the both of you. he kisses your knuckles to wake you up gently. murmuring sweet nothings into your skin. he holds your hand when you brush your teeth together. when youâre eating cereal in the morning he holds you hand across your bench. your hands are always interlocked wherever youâre walking. he definitely holds it when crossing the road. seriously, he just always wants to hold your hand. lining up at the grocers. lining up outside clubs. heâs got a drink in one hand, your hand in the other. he likes to grab your attention by tugging your hand as well. when he canât hold your hand he definitely feels weird. he fidgets and gets a little pouty. james, baby, itâs hot and your hands are sweaty. he whines. please. just let me hold your finger :((
