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ameliora-j · 6 months

Note

ur the only person i trust who can give me a filthy but soft smut of james potter fucking y/n in his ice hockey jersey

i’m honored 🥹

𐐪𐑂 it’s twisted tuesday! send in ur requests ᵕ̈

content: soft dom!james, cnc, hockey player!james, pr manager!girlfriend!reader, humiliation, degradation, oral (f!receiving), daddy kink, jamie talking to ur pussy, impact play, unprotected piv, creampie, THIS IS AN 18+ BLOG MDNI

“james…” you groan, trying to push him away as he has you pressed up against your desk in your office. “cut it out!” you groan as he kisses down your neck.

“oh baby” james chuckles, shaking his head. james towers over you, and his ice hockey jersey are purposefully tailored to be longer and bigger on him so that they can fit over all his gear—thus causing every single one of his jerseys to be a dress on you. this—accompanied by a pair of thigh high boots—was your signature game day look. “you’re wearing the jersey, you’re asking to be split open on my cock and you know it” he chuckles lowly, nipping at your ear.

you whine, shaking your head as you push him back once more. “stop james. i’m serious, i’m not fucking you” you huff softly.

“uh huh baby… whatever you say” he murmurs, sinking to his knees and pushing your legs apart. he pushes his jersey up over your hips and tuts his tongue, shaking his head softly. “and look at that… you don’t wanna fuck but this little cunt is nice and uncovered for me” he hums, noting that you’d foregone panties—and james knew you expected this.

“my poor girl’s gonna be so cold on that ice tonight” he pouts softly, shaking his head as he rubs a thumb over your slit.

“james!” you squeak. “i’ll be fine” you shake your head.

“hush baby, do your work. ‘m talking to my girl” he chuckles softly. your eyes widen and heat rises immediately to your face as you realize james is speaking to your pussy, not you. “‘s okay pretty princess… i’ll make sure you keep warm tonight” he whispers before leaning in and pressing a kiss to your little clit.

he hums softly, his eyes rolling a bit at the taste before he wraps his mouth around your cunt, wiggling his tongue through your sticky folds. “that’s right princess, knew you wanted daddy” he whispers to your cunt, leaning back and spitting on your pulsing hole. “‘s okay… daddy’s here. gonna clean you up baby. make it all better” he hums to your pussy before diving back in.

“j-james… james!” you moan loudly, reaching back and pushing his head closer to your needy cunt. he chuckles against you, slapping your ass.

“i knew you’d come around” he mumbles, standing and beginning to undo his pants.

“n-no… no james i’m not fucking you! i’m trying to tell you we need to go” you whine, shaking your head insistently.

“yeah princess, i hear you” he nods, running his cock through your slit a few times. “there’s my girl” he groans as he feels your wetness soaking his cock. “it’s okay, i’ll give it to you… no need to cry” he chuckles lowly as your pussy drips down onto his cock.

he groans lowly as he slowly pushes into your cunt, practically whining as he bottoms out. “oh you’re so tight” he breathes, holding your hips.

“j-james… jamie stop” you whine as he begins to fuck you. his pace is slow but intentional, his hips angled to hit your gspot head on each time he slams his cock back into you.

“oh baby, you’re begging me to stop but my princess is begging to cum” he murmurs, gently rubbing your clit as he fucks you slow and hard. “it’s okay pretty girl… if you want daddy to stop all you have to do is cum” he taunts, holding you close to him as he fucks you slowly.

you whine, shaking your head as it falls back against his shoulder. “your pussy is crying for me… squeezing around me. oh baby she wants to cum so bad” he mocks, beginning to rub your clit faster. he keeps his pace slow, but pounds your gspot mercilessly as you cry out his name along with profanities.

“daddy!” you whine as you gaze at him with wide, glossy eyes.

“oh there’s my pretty princess” he hums softly, smiling lovingly at you as he leans in and gives you a kiss. you whimper softly, meeting his thrusts as you kiss him back. “‘s my good girl. take my cock so well” he mumbles, kissing across your shoulders.

“daddy… i wanna cum” you whimper, your eyes rolling as you clench around him.

“i know baby… i know daddy’s right there” he mumbles. “why don’t you milk my cock baby?” he hums, kissing your cheek. “cum for me… squeeze daddy’s cum from that big cock” he groans lowly.

you let out a long, loud moan, your head falling back against his shoulder as you cream on james’ cock. he sucks in air through his teeth, fucking you through your orgasm as his hips begin to stutter until he paints your walls with his cum. “what do you say baby?” he mocks as he rides out his orgasm, fucking you full of his cum.

“thank you, daddy” you moan quietly, smiling lazily at him.

#twisted tuesday!#nsfw.nani #dark.nani #james potter #james potter x reader #james potter x yn #james potter x you #james potter x y/n #james potter smut #james potter blurb #james potter fic #james potter drabble #hockey player!james potter #hockey player!james #james potter fanfic #james potter headcanon #james potter dialogue #names potter fanfiction

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fourmoony · 3 months

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𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐧

james potter x f!reader | modern!hockey au

cw: injury, language, use of pain medication (gas and air), exes reconciliation

summary - James is there for ex!reader when she has an accident on the ice.

2.8k

Took a break from writing ch3 of FOW to write this lil ficcy.

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The arena goes silent the minute the programme music starts, the lights a deep blue, the music soft and slow. He’s on the Gryffindor bench, helmet at his feet, bottle half empty and hanging limply from his hands – they’re cold now they’re out of his gloves. The rest of the team has eyes on the tunnel, the whole arena does, and when James catches sight of you, he understands why, would singlehandedly go into the stands and force anyone who wasn’t paying enough attention to just – look.

Look at the way you skate so softly, like every movement comes straight from your soul, the way your dress glitters under the light, the way it makes your skin glow. He thinks you’re ethereal, honestly. He always has. But he’s not exactly allowed to think that, anymore, is he?

You skid to a stop in the middle of the ice, getting into position. Remus places a supportive hand on James’ shoulder, gives his friend an understanding look. Everything you do is always so precise, so fluid and beautiful. The way you skate is pure elegance, unlike hockey, which is rough and fast, harsh movements and even harsher words. The music fades out, changes to the start of a song James has never seen you skate to, before. But then, he supposes – he hasn’t seen you skate in four months. He hasn’t watched you try, and try, fall, and try, and fall again until you get a new move, a new routine, a sense of achievement.

He hasn’t sat on the bleachers freezing his arse off after practice just to be in your presence, or took you to eat, after. He hasn’t made sure you’re eating, sleeping, taking time to look after and care for yourself, and not just your talent.

You look different. Still beautiful, still the girl James fell in love with. But you look different. He can’t pinpoint it, really. There’s just a difference in the way you look straight at the empty penalty box as you wait for your cue that doesn’t sit right in James’ chest. It’s clunky and a little painful, a broken promise of something. You’re not looking at him. Whenever you skate at Hogwarts Arena – you look for James. Whether he’s playing or in the crowd. A nod from him, and you’re off like a shot into whatever performance your coach has chosen. Now, though, you’re staring blankly at the penalty box, not James.

He gets it, he does. It’s over. Has been for a while. But he wishes you’d look over, knows how nervous you get, wants to give you a reassuring smile. James sees the way your knees wobble as you kick off, floating across the ice like you could be flying.

You make it look so effortless, skating. You look weightless as you twist and turn into jumps James could never imagine being able to pull off – and he’s been skating since he could walk. He admires the steady movements, the emotion on your face as you glide, and spin, and jump, and the emotion on your face as the music follows the highs and lows of your routine. You’re so focussed you don’t seem to notice how the pain, the heartache of the song, the weight of the routine, bleeds from you.

It’s beautiful, in a way.

You’re beautiful in every way.

James feels the weight of watching you crushing him like a building sitting on his chest. He’s been slammed into the boards eight times in the first two quarters – not once had it hurt as much as watching you out there, so lovely, so gentle, so sad, so close but so fucking far. James thinks perhaps Remus’ hand on his shoulder is to keep him in place, for if it wasn’t there, he’d be out on the ice following you, right now. Heart in his hand, begging you to take it, no matter what it costs you both.

He’s always been selfish with love. He knows that, now. He does.

James should see it coming a mile off. He knows everything about you, the way you skate. He has every breath change, every wobble, every movement you make on the ice memorised. So, when you jump off with your left pick instead of your right – James should know what’s about to happen. You spin once, and James realises, too late, that jumping with the wrong foot has thrown you off. You’re on the ice in less than a second, the music cuts off, the crowd and both teams make gasping noises, murmured concerns. James doesn’t hear any of it.

All he can hear is the ice shattering scream you let out.

You don’t get up. James waits several seconds, and you don’t get up. Remus shoves him, Sirius pulls open the board door and James, in only his under armour and protective trousers, skates loosened for the break, skates to you as fast as he can. There’s cheering from the crowd when James comes flying out of the team box, but James can’t hear any of it over the sounds you’re making.

He’s seen you fall hundreds of times. He’s seen you pull muscles and break ribs, bruise tail bones, sprain ankles and he has never heard you make noise like this in his life. The medics haven’t arrived yet, James skids to a stop, drops to his knees. You don’t look up, face tilted towards the ice – a media training stunt so the crowd can’t see how much pain you’re actually in. But he can tell your eyes are screwed shut, fists clenched so tight he’s concerned you might break your wrists.

He says your name, soft, gentle, and it sounds foreign coming out of his mouth.

You take a shuddering breath, head tilting in the cage your arms have made for it just slightly. Your eyes are filled with so much fear that James finds it hard to breathe, tears spilling out and onto your red cheeks, “My hip. My hip, Jamie, my hip.”

You sound terrified, broken, in agonising pain. James shouts for a medic, loud enough that he thinks the whole arena can hear. There’s refs and managers, your skating coach, all on the ice when the medics come running. James feels as though he could throttle every last one for taking so long. You’re crying, curled in on yourself, and James knows better than to touch you, like this. It makes the pain worse, makes you feel like you’re suffocating. And he thinks, maybe, that you just don’t want him to touch you, regardless, anyway.

The medics slide the board under you, roll you onto your back and the scream of agony you let out breaks James. He’s crying, and you reach for his hand, squeeze it so tight he feels his bones rub together.

“Potter!” Moody, his coach, yells after him when he starts to follow the medics off the ice with you.

“I’m not leaving her.” James doesn’t leave room for negotiation, doesn’t want Moody to challenge him on this because he might do something stupid and lose his place in the league all together.

His coach sighs, nods, and James is off like a shot. He catches up with you in the tunnel, headed straight for the Gryffindor PT room. You’re still sobbing, awful, throaty cries that are etching their way around James’ ribs, threatening to break and scratch and pull at them. It’s a flurry of noise and shouting and protests from you whenever someone comes close to touching your hip. It’s chaos.

James isn’t really all that sure if you’ve fully registered that he’s there, honestly, or if you’re in so much pain you don’t have it in you to argue over his presence. The medic gives James a look, a rather pointed one, when you refuse for the millionth time to let anyone touch your hip. He isn’t sure what he’s supposed to do. You’re not his girlfriend, anymore. You’re not his, you don’t love him. He can’t comfort you the way he used to.

“Jamie,” You’re breathless, face red and blotchy, hand gripping his, looking up at him with fear, “Don’t let them. It hurts.”

And James feels like he’s drowning.

“Hey,” He gets close to your face, the thumb of his free hand swiping away the tears from your eyes, “They can’t help you if you don’t let them see what’s wrong.”

“It hurts.”

“I know,” He soothes, pushing strands of hair from your forehead, “But it’s gonna hurt a lot longer if you don’t let them fix it.”

You seem to consider, hiccupping breaths filling the silence. The medic makes an impatient sound and James throws him a cutting look.

“Short term pain, long term gain.” James murmurs into the skin of your forehead. It's a joke saying - something you used to say rather bitterly when you hurt yourself learning a new stunt.

You don’t flinch, don’t pull away or protest when he presses his lips to the heated skin. It provides the distraction the medics need to cut the seam of your dress and reveal the skin of your hip. A junior medic passes you a nozzle, wheels a tank to the side of the table you’re on, and passes you it, “Gas and air. You’re going to need it.”

James wishes he could have some, too.

The medics work, you almost chew through the air nozzle when they try to push your hip back into place, and eventually, James has to murmur panicked and overly loud sweet nothings into your ear over the gut wrenching cries you let out when the medic yanks and then pushes your hip right back into place.

The game is long since over. Gryffindor won.

You’re limp on the table, waiting for the crowd to leave before the ambulance can make it to the player exit. James sits, watches you drift in and out of consciousness, begs his heart to return to normal because you’re not in pain anymore, not in danger. You’re here. In front of him. Okay.

Sirius appears a little after the game, freshly showered and in his suit.

“She okay?” He asks, hands stuffed into his suit trouser pockets.

You and Sirius are close. Still. James doesn’t hold it against either of you. You’ve both been such an intracule part of each other’s lives that he’d be evil for expecting that to come to an end just because you and James didn’t work out. You both deserve better than his jealousy.

“Dislocated her hip. They think she’s torn some ligaments; need to wait on the hospital scans to be sure.” James replies, eyes roving over your face.

You look so peaceful, asleep. So free of pain, of the fear and agony you’d been in only half an hour ago. His heart aches. He wants to coddle you, assure you you’ll be okay. He knows he can’t.

Sirius nods, “She’ll skate again? Or no?”

The medic hadn’t seemed hopeful. James doesn’t know who’s going to have the job of telling you, but he’s praying for them. You won’t take this news lightly, “Not at the level she’s at now.”

He watches the concern wash over Sirius. They both know what it’s like to skate. Sure, hockey and figure skating are different – but the mindset is often the same. James can’t imagine being told he couldn’t skate. It’s part of him – his soul. As it is, yours.

“You okay?”

James shakes his head, “No. I can’t stop hearing her. That scream, Padfoot - It hollowed me out.”

Sirius nods, like he understands. Perhaps he does, in some way. He heard it, too. “She’s okay. For now. You going in the ambulance?”

“I don’t think she’d appreciate that.”

“I’ll wait for you in the car, then.” Sirius leaves without another word but offers James an understanding look. He gets it. He knows what it’s like for love to hurt. He and Remus spent years hurting each other for no good reason.

The room is quiet when Sirius goes. Just the steady sounds of your breathing, the beeping of your monitor. James allows himself to press his palm to your cheek one last time. He wills himself to stand up, to leave. He can’t manage it. He doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to walk away from you. Not like this.

“Stay. Please.”

You’re awake. He’s not sure how long you’ve been awake, but he has a feeling you heard his conversation with Sirius. His heart feels like it’s been kick started, like for the first time since you hit the ice, he can breathe.

“I’m not going anywhere.” He promises, thumb rubbing at your neck, hand cupping your jaw.

You nod, swallow, “I won’t skate again, will I?”

“You don’t know that.”

A noise akin to a scoff escapes your lips, which wobble as you speak, “Everyone knows how these injuries end, Jamie. I’ll be a coach, at best.”

He wishes he could tell you that you might make a full recovery, that you’ll go back to being the ethereal, elegant skater you’ve been since he met you all those years ago. He’s never lied to you before, though, so he won’t start now. You both know the statistics, the stories, how it goes. Rehab for six months, and if you’re lucky, you’ll skate in a straight line again.

“I’m so, so, sorry.” He doesn’t know what else to say.

You shush him, a fresh set of tears springing to your eyes, “I should’ve looked for you. I should’ve, I knew I should’ve, but I thought if I did, I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from coming to you. From coming to tell you that I was sorry, that I was wrong, I should’ve…”

James takes his turn shushing you as the quiet sobs rack your body. You used to chide him for his superstitions, it breaks his heart that you think breaking one caused this. He leans over, lips to the skin of your forehead, pressing over and over as though it might make the weight of his love settle into your brain, “No. Please don’t do that, please. Don’t blame yourself. These things happen. Accidents, they happen, no one is a perfect skater, okay?”

“But it’s my fault we broke up.”

You sound so broken, so tired. James doesn’t know what to say, isn't sure what relevance that has to this, so he says nothing.

Time passes, the medics return, bring James his joggies and hoodie and his shoes. He changes quickly, comes in the ambulance to the hospital.

He waits with you, holds your hand, gives you as much reassurance as he can. The doctor tells you three hours later that you’ll never skate at the same level again, and James holds you. He’s careful not to crush you when he climbs into the hospital bed, and he holds you until there’s no more tears left for you to cry. He sits with you in the silence, is patient when you get angry, frustrated, blame yourself and the world, even him, and he’s there. He stays. He doesn’t allow you to push him away this time.

The sun creeps up over the trees, cuts through the fluorescent hospital lighting and casts its golden glow on you, and James remembers.

He remembers all the time away from the rink, the beach, his parent’s summer house, road trips, theme parks, early mornings in his apartment, coffees in the car after practice. He remembers that there, once, had been more to your relationship than skating. It became habit, after a while. Skate, fight, train, skate, fight, train. It got tiring. It got old, and it drove a wedge between you both.

But he remembers how freely you once loved each other, the person you are, not the way you skate. Your soul, bright and luminous, off the ice. You’re so much more than a pair of skates and a beautiful routine. You’re ethereal all on your own.

You wake not long after, the pain medication worn off and reality starting to set in.

If you’re surprised to find James in your hospital bed with you, you don’t show it. You offer him a gentle smile. A kind smile. A hopeful smile. He kisses the crown of your head, nestles as close as your hip will allow. You make a grateful humming noise.

"I'll survive this."

James notes that you don't sound all that sure. But he knows you will. He squeezes you gently, "You will."

"And you'll be there? I know it's selfish of me to ask..."

"I'm not going anywhere. Promise." James' thumb pulls your lip from where it's worrying between your teeth, and you look so soft, so scared. So. Lovely.

You seem happy with that answer, cheek rubbing happily against his shoulder, "We'll work it out."

"We will."

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kquil · 8 months

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JAMES POTTER | 04:01 ⏤ALWAYS SAFE

SUM. : you bring james his lunch that you cooked yourself and almost get injured

G. : fluff ; modern au ; muggle au ; ice hockey player james ; girlfriend reader ; very angry james ; protective james ; team training ; drill accidents ; reader being caring and sweet ; reader is wifey material ; james is husband material

LENGTH : 0.8k

NOT PROOFREAD OR EDITED

“James!” you shout across the rink, standing by one of your boyfriend’s coaches, Richard, who’s become like an uncle to you. The hockey captain doesn’t stop, however, unable to hear past the whistling wind by his ears atop his thick and sturdy headgear.

“Gonna have to shout louder than that, little lady ,” the older man chuckles, adjusting the cap on his head of silvering hair.

You ponder to yourself for a moment before smirking, which makes Richard arch a curious brow at you, “Darling!” The instant you call across the ice rink, you see James’ head whip towards you before he grins widely behind the front guard of his head gear. Behind him, the rest of his team come to a skidding halt and also look over to your waving and cheering figure. You’ve become quite familiar with all of his teammates and they love to tease their captain for being so head over heels for you so the team begin snickering to themselves, some even cheekily whistling and nudging at James who pays them no mind, his sole focus fixed onto you.

“Baby!” he cheers, delight and excitement evident in his voice before he speeds his way over to you. Richard whistles for the rest of the team to run short drills while the ‘lovely couple’ have their lunch.

“I’m sorry for being late,” you gnaw at your bottom lip regretfully, a guilty look taking over your expression as James hurriedly takes off his headgear and gloves, revealing his sweat-soaked locks matted down and clinging onto his forehead, “Richard told me you didn’t eat anything-” because you wanted to wait for me…

“Don’t worry about it,” James says gently, his smile just as bright but much softer as he takes in your sweet expression. There’s so much love in his gaze, you feel your own heart bursting at the seams to attempt at reciprocating his adoration. James brings a finger under your chin and lifts your gaze to meet his kind stare; even though he appears sweaty, dishevelled and rugged from training, he’s just as handsome as ever, “you sounded really excited over the phone about cooking my lunch for me,” a heat crawls up your neck and explodes across your cheeks as James grins, his eyes staring lovingly at you, “and I was just as excited to eat what you so graciously cooked instead of the canteen food here,” James giggles to himself, dopey and carefree, “you cooked it just for me~ I’m so lucky~”

You returned his wide grin and felt yourself losing your will to hide his surprise. He didn’t know it but you were only late because you went and bought his favourite treacle tart from his favourite bakery across town.

“Actually~” you begin to reach down so that you can present the bakery take out box when you suddenly see James pull back, his spine fully erect as his eyes and ears become fully alert. The words were on your tongue, ready to question his odd behaviour when he suddenly shoots his arm up to the side; just as you were beginning to register a faint whistle in your ear, it was followed by a resounding WHHHIIIIP!

In James’s stretched out hand was a hockey puck. And it was on a one way course of high velocity towards you. Seeing this, anger flares up like the fuse of an explosive ready to violently detonate in James’s eyes.

“SHE’S! MY! FUCKING! GIRLFRIEND! WATCH IT! YOU FAT FUCK!” James’s booming voice cuts through the air and silences all activity on the rink, not only that but he was easily able to narrow down the perpetrator of the hazardous stray puck, “...WELL?!! SAY SOMETHING YOU DICK!” you look past James’s figure and lock eyes with guilty brown pools, likely the offender of your potential accident.

“S-sorry,” you hear his teammate stutter, which you accept with a small nod and place a gentle hand on James’s arm, attempting to calm him down and bring his attention back to you. As he slowly turns to you again, James slams the puck to the ground and kicks it away with his ice skate.

“Are you okay, angel?” James asks, his voice soft and kind, a complete contrast to the booming, angry shout he just projected.

“I’m perfectly fine,” your warm voice visibly soothes the hockey team captain and he rests his forehead against yours with a sigh of relief, “...accidents happen James, please don’t lash out on the poor g-”

“Accident or not, hurting you— almost hurting you is deserving of a beat down from hell,”

Looking into his hostile but worried hazel eyes, you silently express your objection alongside some appreciation too. You’re thankful for his worry, his aggression over your safety even makes your heart flutter but he’s better than any violence. It takes a moment but James finally sighs and nods, a silent promise to watch himself and stay civil.

Smiling softly, you lean up to kiss his lips, “thank you for saving me,” his lips smile against yours.

“You’re always safe with me, princess,”

NAVI.

A/N : im a bit rusty on writing since i haven’t been able to write for a while from stressful home stuff but here’s me trying to get back into it with another ice hockey james au (inspired by another tiktok). hopefully, this will get me in the headspace to write good requests from my milestone event.

TAGLIST : @melinajenkins @aastonishment @until-i-found-you @corp0real @celestcies @lovelydoveval @inlovewithremusjohnlupin @calums-betch @futurecorps3 @hihihi1112 @simpingforthe80s @yrluvjane @neeezza101 @chaosofmanyfandoms @storyofaromance @loving-and-dreaming @somewereinthegalaxi @chullu-bhar-paani @ghostgardn @rosalyn-s @seungtelevision

#james potter x reader #james potter #james potter x you #james potter imagine #james potter fluff #ice hockey player james potter #james potter fic #james potter fanfiction #𐂂 : timestamp #hp marauders #marauders fic #the marauders

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likeprongstostars · 2 months

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i finally colored it

the urge to put a blunt object in james hands and let him bash zombies heads with it won

#“but james has two pairs of glasses” yes and...#apocalypse caught james in a hockey practice #i was rewatching the last of us #i have so much apocalyptic content on my fyp #i had to #regulus black #james potter #jegulus fanart #jegulus #my art

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moonstruckme · 6 months

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helloooo, i have a request if its possible♡

since we got figure skater! Sirius..... Do you think we could get hockey player! James x figure skater! reader? Maybe they go to the same place but the place where they practice its kinda shitty so its literally kinda like an across the hallway situation where the hockey practice happens on one ice rink and when you leave you can walk thru the ice rink of the figure skaters that its on another section of the place IDK I'M NOT AN ARCHITECT SORRY

BUT THE POINT ITS, that one day James leaves practice later than usual and he's walking to get out but he heards his favorite song playing and he goes to see whats up because its his favorite song ever! and goes to the other ice rink and sees the reader practicing and inmediatly he has the biggest crush ever and its almost dreaming about a house and three kids with that cute girl

idk i think i explained myself like sht but hope you like the idea! cause i think it would be soo cute

Hi lovely, you explained yourself perfectly! Thanks for being so patient with me, I hope this is alright <3

hockey player!James x figure skater!reader ♡ 718 words

James’ entire body is pleasantly sore, and he’s very much looking forward to going home to a nice, hot shower.

“Do you and Moony want to go get breakfast tomorrow morning?” he asks Sirius as they leave the locker room. The two of them had taken longer than usual changing out of their gear, Sirius filling him in on the absolute hell week Remus had at his new job. To hear Sirius talk about it, all the other professors are simply jealous of Remus. James is sure that’s partly true, but he’d bet they need less reason than that. Somehow, James had thought leaving school would mean emerging into a more mature world, but adults seem just as petty as teenagers. Maybe pancakes and a good, uplifting chat would do something to take the sting out of Remus’ first week and help prepare him for the next.

Sirius cuts James a sideways look, gray eyes narrowed. “Breakfast at what time?”

“I was thinking six, six thirty.” Sirius scoffs, and James grins. “Only joking. How’s eleven?”

“Still too early,” Sirius grumbles, “but we’ll go.”

James bobs his head, pleased to have a course of action for helping his friend. “Ask Moons where he feels like going, and just…” He hears a faint, familiar melody. “...just let me know.”

“Sounds good.” Sirius pushes open the door, but James has stopped. He’s looking back towards the rink, intrigued. “Coming?”

James waves him off. “In a bit. See you tomorrow.”

Sirius makes an amused sound, not unused to James’ diversions, and goes.

James follows the sound of his favorite song, unabashed about bopping his head to the beat as he approaches the rink. He knows figure skaters sometimes use the rink after his hockey practice has wrapped up, and he absolutely has to see who’s choreographed a routine to this. He comes to a stop near the edge of the bleachers, and watches through the tempered glass as one lone skater launches into a turn.

This wouldn’t be the track James would have thought of for a figure skating routine, but frankly, you’re doing it justice. Your movements are springy and nimble as you glance across the ice, one complicated-looking move to the next to the next. It seems like both skates are never touching the ground for more than half a second. There’s a lot to be said, probably, about your skill, your technique, but James is a philistine. All he can think about is how pretty you look.

You’re gorgeous. Stunning. Graceful in your movements and seraphim in your countenance. A wisp of hair has freed itself from the confines of the rest and whips about your face, but you don’t seem to notice it, your gaze steady and lips just slightly pursed in concentration.

James would never tell his friends because they’d mock him to hell and back, but he does believe in love at first sight. Only under particular circumstances, though. The sight has to be good enough—meaning, he has to see some aspect of who that person is behind a pretty face. You certainly do have a pretty face, and you’re dancing to his favorite song, and James doesn’t understand how he could ever be expected to not be totally enamored with you after this one spectacular look. He worries that if you glance over, you’ll see him with giant cartoon hearts boinging out of his eyes on springs.

The song ends, and you spin to a stop. James’ breathing stops, too, as your gaze lands on a point not ten feet to his right. He wonders if he’s being creepy. It’s not like this is a private rink, and James wouldn’t be weirded out if he spotted someone watching him running drills or something (actually, if it were you he’d be over the moon about it), but he’s been told not everyone feels like he does about that stuff. And though he hardly thinks of himself as intimidating, James is also a big guy. He wants to woo you, not spook you.

You skate to the edge of the rink to restart your music, and James slips out. He hears it blaring softly behind him, and he probably looks like a total idiot when he grins and dances out the front door. An idiot in love.

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ddaisychaser · 7 months

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hockey player james headcannons for those who love this au as much as i do muah!

• so so sweaty when he gets home from practice. as much as you love that james is like a personal heater for you when it comes to those cold rainy night cuddles or womanhood surprisingly greets you one morning, he also is a sauna coming off the ice. yet, he’s so excited to see you, that when he burst’s through your apartment door and jumps on the bed to give you kisses, they aren’t very enjoyable when your comforter and clothes get soaked by his presence.

• of course, he somehow then manages you to take a shower with him every time.

• wearing his jersey might be one of the reasons james will ever burst out into tears of pure happiness. the first time you both started dating and you came to one of his games with ‘potter’ displayed across your back, wearing his number, poor thing almost got knocked out by a flying puck because he couldn’t take his eyes off of you.

• speaking of flying pucks, james definitely has lost a tooth or two from his reckless behavior and cocky attitude, that perhaps sometimes the other team don’t seem to understand. as much as we all adore james’s kindness and big heart, that boy is a loose canon on the ice. usually finding home in the penalty box more that either one of you would like.

• if you don’t know how to skate, it’s your lucky day! because you best believe your first date consist’s of james taking you out into the empty arena, and spending all day holding your hand as you get used to the ice. don’t worry about falling though, because james would be damned if you ever hit the ice without him catching you. those big muscles aren’t just for hockey wink wink.

• definitely is the cutest little grump if his team is to ever lose a game. james loves winning (not as much as he loves you) but considering being captain, all he wants is for his team to cherish the sight of holding the number one title and a great big trophy to display in the locker rooms. speaking of, when he does walk out after losing a game, his face immediately falls into the comfortable crook of your neck and leans all his body weight into you. just mumbling, “i tried baby, i really did.” before kissing that sweet spot behind your ear.

• dating james also includes your position as the team’s ‘mom’ james will make sure every one of his teammates adore you just as much as he does, and to give their full respect if you are to make your presence know. yet, if james isn’t around, all those boys are doting on you and asking for favors. ‘hey y/n! can you help me find my jersey?’ or, ‘y/n, i can’t figure out this recipe. can you look it over?’

• as james watches his teammates over time grow fond of you, of course he get’s sweetly jealous. mumbling, ‘sweetheart, why do you have to help sirius with his homework? you are suppose to be hanging out with me.’ although james can’t even lie, watching you bond with the team is such a hilarious, yet special, moment to witness.

#james potter x reader #james potter #james potter fluff #james potter imagine #james potter one shot #aaron taylor johnson #james potter angst #james potter needs to play hockey #hockey player!james potter

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milunalupin · 1 month

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Hiiii congrats on the 100 followers 🍾 can I request a hockey player!James x reader in an already established relationship? Where jamie sees reader wearing one of his jerseys as a good luck charm (love-induced placebo effect) and one day, reader comes into a match WITHOUT the jersey?? The rest of how shenanigans is up to u thanks!

ty so so much for requesting, i hope this is hockey-y enough lol <3

— lucky charm

hockey player!james potter x reader ★ 860 words

a/n - i don't know anything about hockey so please bare with me

James was running around the flat like a madman, muttering something about cross checking and knee pads. He pushed past you a little too hard, retracing his steps to mumble a 'sorry' as he kisses your temple. Today's hockey game was very important, according to your boyfriend. As captain of the Gryffindors, he would not allow his team to lose their biggest rivals, the Slytherins. Your nose scrunched is disgust as you watched him pack his dirty lucky socks, walking to the kitchen to grab something to eat during the game.

As he was zipping up his game bag, you walked back over with a few snacks and his water bottle. He smiled fondly at you while accepting the bags of pretzels and baby carrots.

"I'll see you soon love," he wraps you in a tight hug, pulling away from you to look down at you sternly. "Don't forget to wear my jersey please."

Your eyes widened, and let out a sound of disbelief. "It was one time Jamie, three years ago!"

"I know but love of my life, apple of my eye, we really need to win this game." he whined, lightly shaking you by your shoulders.

Rolling your eyes playfully, you pushed him towards the door, reassuring him that you wouldn't forget. James pressed a few more kisses to your cheeks before clambering out the door with his duffel bag hung over his shoulder.

James had met you at a post-win celebration at a local bar, trying to impress you with all his hockey talk. Having had a few shots and nursing a cocktail, your tipsy self just nodded and smiled pretending to understand what the muscular cutie was talking about. When you met up again sober you admitted to not knowing anything about hockey, which didn't seem to be too much of a problem as he had asked you to be his just a few weeks later. Although you still didn't fully understand the sport, you still showed up to every game as James' biggest fan.

Back in the kitchen, you finished washing last night's dishes and made some hot chocolate for yourself to take to the game, filling a tumbler and not bothering to fully twist the cap on as you were now running a few minutes behind schedule. Scrambling to slip your shoes on by the door, of course you tripped over James's converse as you always do, only this time you're hot chocolate spills all over your white 'Potter' jersey.

You squeeze your eyes shut and groan. "Oh, he's gonna murder me."

You found your seat just in time for the faceoff, shivering from the cold metal of the arena benches. Maroon and emerald players danced around the ice, getting into their formations for the first round. James was in the middle as the team's center, waiting for the puck to drop. As soon as it did James took control, then passing it to his teammate. You watched as it flew from player to player, the sounds on skates on ice and the opinionated crowd bringing a smile to your face. Gryffindors fans started to stand when James was near the Slytherin's goal with the puck, then boo-ing the green team when the puck was stolen from him. The game was going by smoothly, you snacking on some pretzels as the two teams kept switching off on who had control of the puck.

You stood up and screamed with excitement as James scored, waving your arms around. His head whipped over to your usual section to find you, his bright grin faltering as he noticed your appearance. He let his eyes linger on your plain maroon sweater a few moments more before scoffing lightly and skating back to his position for the next period. The next few rounds were played a dirtier, with the Slytherin players checking the Gryffindors into the tempered glass and tripping them onto the ice.

The game ended with the Gryffindors winning 7-5, maroon-clad fans throwing up popcorn and cheering in celebration. You followed the crowd out, making your way towards the locker rooms, finding a spot against the wall to wait for James.

You watched as he walked out without paying you any attention. Frowning, you jogged to catch up to him. "Jamie, hey- James!"

He turned around with the biggest pout you'd ever seem from anyone, mumbling so softly you almost didn't hear him. "You're not wearing my jersey."

"I spilled hot chocolate on it so I had to change, I'm sorry my love." you stepped forward, taking his hands in yours. "But hey, you still won the game and you played amazingly, so maybe it wasn't so lucky after all."

"Well the jersey was for extra luck, my main lucky charm is you, so thank you for being here." he sighed and pulled you into a hug, kissing the top of your head.

"You're welcome, although you don't really need luck because you're so talented, James." You chuckled, feeling him squeeze you a little tighter as he nodded.

"But I was worried about today's game for a second so can you please wear the jersey next game?"

#milunalupin's 100 party !#marauders x reader #marauders #james potter #james potter x reader #james x reader #hockey player!james potter

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silencesscreams · 10 months

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thin ice

hockey!james potte. x ice skater!reader

summary: you and james go to the same training rink and always see each other. you eventually start talking and flirting, but what you didn’t know, was that you’d see him at your best friend’s birthday party and get absolutely hooked.

warnings: fluffly fluff, petnames, f!reader, use of y/n a few times, she/her pronouns referring to r, drinking

pls tell me about any grammar mistakes, english isn’t my first language!!

he sure had a nerve.

first he bumps into you in the hallway and doesn’t even apologize,

and then he asks you to get him some water? what does he think you’re doing there?

“sorry, i don’t work here.” you said, looking at him with your brows furrowed.

“oh, i just thought that you worked here because of the matching uniforms, you know?” you were about to laugh at him but then you noticed the red on his cheeks. was this man blushing?

“i’m sorry, how many times did you ask girls from the skating team for water?” you giggled, and suddenly his face is even redder.

“lets just say i gotta apologize to a lot of girls. i’m james by the way. james potter.” he dropped his gloves as he went to shake your hand. as he bent down to pick them up, you read the name on his jersey. ‘prongs’. you didn’t know what it meant, but it was kind of cute.

“prongs? what does that mean?” you ask, curious about him.

“its my hockey name”

“hockey name? like an artist name?”

“sort of, its nicer to call for prongs than to call for james.” he explained.

“really? cause i like james better.” you said, grabbing your bag from the bench you were sat on. “well, gotta go. but i’ll see you later, prongs.”

“i didn’t quite catch your name!” he shouted as you walked away.

“guess you’ll just have to find out!” you said, smirking at him from afar.

james potter sure was interesting.

as time passed, he eventually figured out your name, but he didn’t really use it. you found out he loved petnames, and you eventually started liking them too.

sure, you weren’t close, but you really liked the ‘hey ,hun, how are you?’s until you got something better than that.

“hey, love, how are you?” james asked as he filled his water bottle.

“hi, james, i’m good” you smiled

“so, i was thinking” your stomach started twisting itself into a knot. “could i maybe get your number?”

“yeah, of course.” your cheeks were getting hotter by the second.

“great, just type in” he smirked, giving you his phone. “i’ll text you later?”

“for sure.” you smiled.

once you got to practice, it was obvious something happened, specially because of the smile you couldn’t get rid of.

“what’s up, y/n?” pandora asked, as you sat down next to her.

“james. he asked me for my number.” you kept on smiling.

“you mean prongs? okay, score” marlene joked.

“please! we’re friends.” you insisted.

“like you don’t have the biggest crush on him.” pandora laughed and you shoved your face in your hands, blushing.

once james got to practice, it was obvious something had happened to him too. specially because he couldn’t stop smiling.

“spill it, prongs.” sirius said, without even looking at him for two full seconds.

“what?!” james got defensive and sirius glared at him. “i asked y/n for her number.”

“what’d she say?” peter asked, remus was clearly paying attention too.

“she just gave it to me, can you believe that?” he smiled.

“i actually can’t.” sirius joked.

“shut up!” james scoffed.

“we’re going to lily’s birthday thing, i’m sure she’ll be there too. if you wanna shoot your shot.” remus smirked at him.

“really?” james asked, a glimmer in his eyes.

james had never felt so excited about any girl before, he couldn’t actually describe it. there was just something about you.

you spent the whole week talking to james, texting, getting coffee after practice,

he took about two hours to get ready for lily’s birthday, he was so nervous when he got there he felt like he could faint. it also didn’t help sirius was laughing at him for a very long time, but when you got there? that was probably it for him.

he could’ve just fainted because of the dress you were wearing, red was definitely your color. and with that he couldnt stop picturing you in his team’s uniform.

as you said hi to your friends, mary pointed him out and you could’ve actually passed out. your stomach went into swirls and you waved at him from afar, when he smiled at you, that was probably the nail onto your coffin, because james potter was going to be the only thing on your mind for a long time.

he came over to you after about 15 minutes of overthinking all the things he said to you through text.

“hey, hun” he said, giving you a quick hug.

“hi, james, fancy seeing you here!” you joke, taking a sip from your coke and rum.

“well, what can i say? im a pretty unpredictable guy.” he joked, sitting next to you and playing with the straw on your cup.

“you want some?” you suggested because by the way he was looking at your cup, it seemed like he was craving it.

“nah, i’m driving tonight.” he said, a sad puppy look on his face.

“hey, y/n, weren’t you needing that drive home?” pandora asked, kicking your feet.

“oh, if you want to, i can take you home.” the dark haired boy suggested, smiling at you, again, and how could you say no?

“i’d actually love that, thanks” you couldn’t help but smile back.

“you can just drop me off here” you said as he stopped in front of the driveway. “thanks for the ride, jamie”

as you looked over to him, he was already looking at you. his eyes were focused on your mouth, and he knew that if he didn’t ask you now he probably wouldn’t.

“hey, i was thinking, my team’s playing next Saturday and i’d reallt like it if you’d come by and watch… if you’re free and want to, of course.” he was staring at the steering wheel. “it’s this casual thing, don’t worry, i actually think some of your friends are going and-“

“i’ll be there.” you assure him, james’ head quickly turns, hes facing you again.

now you both are just staring at each other, lingering. his hand went over to you and put back a strand of your hair, and so you heart was pounding in your chest very rapidly and you didn’t quite know what he’d do next.

“i really wanna kiss you now.” he whispered like it was the biggest secret he ever told anyone.

“okay.” you answered, quickly nodding, very nervous to say anything else.

“but i cant though, not yet, ‘cause i know you had a lot to drink.” you felt like he was mostly saying that to himself.

“good night, james, thanks again for the ride.” you felt kind of let down, but still gave him a kiss on the cheek before you opened the car door.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU COULDNT KISS HER? WHAT THE HELL JAMES??” sirius shouted out at the locker room.

“SHE HAD A LOT TO DRINK!” he was trying so hard to defend himself, peter shook his head in disbelief.

“shes out there, i think. i’ll kiss her as soon as we finish this, i swear.” james promised, putting on his gloves.

“its not us you gotta swear to, mate.” remus said, and james knew that.

“wait so he didnt kiss you because you had some drinks?” lily asked, confused. “THAT WAS A FOUL, COME ON REF!” she shouted out before you answered.

“i actually think its kind of sweet.” pandora commented.

“i feel the same, but i really wanted a kiss, and i didn’t even drink that much! did i?” you ask, nervously.

“i dont think so.” lily was up and clapping now, she was the most excited about the game of all people there, mary was just giggling at her girlfriend enthusiasm.

you waved at james during the intermission, he blushed and waved back and you were incredibly happy. you were cheering when he scores, and eventually started shouting the same things as lily (because you knew nothing about the rules).

when they won the game, you cheered like a proud mother, it felt good to be there for him. as he stepped out of the rink, he was calling you over, as you ran to him, he was taking his helmet off and turned around to get the mouthguard and you thought that was the cutest thing.

“hi” you smiled at him.

“hi” he answered, pulling you in and immediately kissing you, his lips were soft and he smelled like strawberry two in one shampoo.

“is this okay?” he asked once he pulled back, you couldn’t bare to answer, so you nodded, and just pulled him in again.

“hm, could you maybe get me some water?” he joked, pulling back again

“you’re an idiot, james potter.”

later that same evening, as you watched him dip french fries in a milkshake, you realized that you were walking on thin ice, specially because you might be falling in love.

#lila writes #james potter x reader #james potter #james potter fic #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james potter fluff #james potter imagine #james potter oneshot #james potter fanfiction #james potter is my bf #i love him so much #MY BF HOCKEY PLAYER!!!#hockey!au #silencesscreams #hockey!james potter

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qrrieterisunnq · 2 months

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How It All Started

jack!hughes x amara!james Summary: Amara is playing her meeting with Jack in her mind, while she’s watching him play his first game after injury on TV. requested: yes/no Warnings: Jack being cute and caring, fluff, fighting in a bar, alcohol, handsy drunk men, something like a flashback? A/N: Welcome to our very first fic in Strawberry Girl au! I hope you'll like it just as much as I love it writing, not edited, if you find any error, let me know!! Big thank you to Faithlynn for beta reading this!! Thank you love! 🫶🏼🤍 likes are good, reblogs are better <3 gif not mine word count: 2,0K PART OF STRAWBERRY GIRL AU

strawberry girl masterlist

“Baby I’ve gotta go. I’ll see you at home after the game. I love you much.” Jack's voice comes from Amara’s phone, which is lying in her lap as she’s crocheting her new top.

“Okay, I’ll be watching you, I love you so much!” Amara sends him a kiss and ends the call, still crocheting the top. Esmeralda is lying next to her tail sliding over Amras leg.

With a smile, she reaches over to the table for the remote so she can play the game today. She loves watching her man play the sport he loves so much together with her brother. Today, they’re playing against Anaheim, so all the boys gather at their apartment.

She has a solid three hours to make something to eat before the boys come home. All day she was thinking about what to make for the refreshment. She came up with bananas in chocolate, vegetables, fruit, canapes, and other food.

As soon as the game started, Amara put down her crocheting watching the game with a smile on her face as the camera showed Jack’s handsome face.

She has no idea how she managed to get this man. She doesn’t understand how a handsome and famous man like Jack, would want someone so simple like her.

She doesn’t doubt the love Jack has for her. She knows how much Jack loves her and she loves him too, she just doesn’t understand, how she manages to get his attention, when there are other, more beautiful girls than her, that are more than willing to be with him.

Amara knows she is no model, she’s not skinny or beautiful, she’s just herself. She knows that Jack loves her the way she is, even though she has ADHD.

Her ADHD was and is the biggest insecurity in their relationship together with her body.

She remembers the day she and Jack met. It was right after their game they won, Nico invited her as his plus one, because he knew that she had some problems with her family at that moment.

She came in one of Nico's jerseys, he got her for her birthday, which was long enough for her to wear like a dress with black shorts and a pair of Nike's. It wasn't her normal style to go out in, but she felt so confident that night that she decided to wear that.

As soon as she got in the bar, Nico was already waiting for her at the entrance walking her to the box they all were sitting in. That night she met most of Nico's teammates including Jack.

The night was filled with alcohol, laughter, and a lot of jokes. After two hours they spent getting to know each other, Amara decided to enjoy the night and dance for a while.

She bends down to Nico so he can hear her. “I'm going on the dancing floor!” she says ready to leave but his hand on her wrist stopped her, she looked down at him, cooking her brow in confusion.

“Be careful! I'll be watching you!” he shouts at her. Amara just nodded, knowing that Nico had taken her like his sister, and left to the dance floor.

She didn't go far in the crowd, knowing, that she could get dizzy any time. She swayed her hips to the rhythm of the music for a good fifteen minutes when her bladder decided it was time for relief.

She pushed herself from the crowd and quickly walked to the hall with doors to dome offices and doors to the toilets. She steps in the girls, groaning at the sight of the long line of girls waiting in here.

“Oh god,” she groaned stomping on the place.

“I’ve been waiting here for ten minutes maybe you should try the men’s.” a girl's voice came from in front of her.

“What?” Amara looked at her eyes wide open.

“I said, you should use the men’s,” she repeated herself. “I’ve been waiting here for a good ten minutes now, so if you really need to go, use the men’s. I’ll go with you; I need really bad, and I don’t want to wait any longer.” She chuckled lightly, pointing towards the doors.

“Yeah, sure,” Amara cleared her throat getting out of the room, waiting for the girl to follow her. “I-I think that’s a great idea.”

Little nervous they both stepped into the men’s quickly making their way into the toilet cabin.

“This is so embarrassing!” the girl giggled from her cabin. “Oh, by the way! What is your name? I completely forgot to ask the second I talked to you.”

“Oh, my name is Amara!” she said pulling her panties on and flushing the toilet clean.

“That is so cute name! My name is Ainsley!” She giggled before she walked out of the cabin to the sink to wash her hands like Amara.

“Oh, look what we have in here,” a deep voice sounded through the room. The girls’ heads snapped in the direction finding there standing two tall men. “Did you lose sweet girls? The ladies are on the other side of the hall.” They walked over them standing only a few inches from them. Amara takes Ainsley’s hand in hers trying to squeeze between the two guys to get out of the room.

“Oh, oh, oh,” one of the guys shook their head while grabbing Amara’s forearms and backing her back where they were standing for a while. “You ain’t going anywhere.” He says stepping even closer to the two of them.

“We’re really sorry, we just needed to use the toilet and the ladies were full,” Ainsley says in a shaky tone, clinging onto Amara's arm. “But now, we really, have to go.”

“No, I don’t think so,” they shook their heads. Each one of the guys stepped closer to one of the girls their hands making their way onto the girl's waists just in time when the door opened in swift motion revealing fuming Jack and Nico.

As soon as Jack’s eyes found Amara’s teary ones, he pushed the guy from her pulling her in behind him. The same happened with Nico and Ainsley, who pushed her slightly behind him, the girl clinging onto his forearm.

“He, back off, we found them first!” one of the guys said towering over Nico and Jack, probably not knowing who they were.

“Well, too, bad, they’re our girls, so get lost!” Jack said, lacing his fingers with Amaras, squeezing it tightly.

“Yeah, we can say the same. Prove it!” The other one says looking at them chalangely.

Amara’s eyes grew wide when the words left his mouth. She knew what they meant, but she never kissed anyone. Jack turned at her, looking in her wide eyes.

“Just one small kiss, okay!” Jack whispered, cupping her cheeks lightly.

“But I never…” Amara whispers as Jack leans her head on hers.

“’S okay, Berry, I’ll guide you!” he says in a sweet voice.

“Okay,” she nodded her head looking into his beautiful eyes. Jack pulled her closer to him by her waist pressing his lips lightly over hers in a small peck. He looks at her face, smiling at her expression. Her eyes are closed, and her lips are parted while her hands rest on his chest. He bent down again pressing his lips over hers this time in a more passionate kiss, that made Amara's limbs feel like jelly.

“You look beautiful,” Jack whispered on her lips when he pulled slightly away from her. “So beautiful, Berry.”

“Thank you.” Her cheeks were flushed red when they pulled away from each other, looking into each other's eyes.

“Oh, okay, sorry guys!” the two of them walked away with their heads turning over their shoulders to make sure they were really couples.

The familiar sound of a siren interrupted her thoughts about Jack. She takes in a deep breath getting up from her seat to make the snack before guys come in.

“Baby! We’re home!” Jack's voice sounds through the apartment while she’s standing at the counter, her hands dirty from the food she was preparing.

“In the kitchen, Jack,” Amara shouts over your shoulder, licking her finger clean. In a second, Jack shows up in the doorframe with a smile on his handsome face. “Hi baby!” she says happily, a smile lingering on her red lips.

“Hey, my pretty Berry.” He coos, sliding his back from his shoulder and making his way toward Amara, who’s already waiting on him.

“You played amazing!” her hands make their way into his hair as she speaks. “I couldn’t take my eyes off you.” She lied a bit, but not that much the first intermission she couldn’t take his eyes off him.

“Yeah?” he teases smirk on his face as his hands make their way on her tights trailing up her ass and her back.

“Oh-okay! We’re here too!” Nico says making them turn their heads at him, smile on his lips just like at the others.

“We know, Nico, we really know you are here!” Amara chuckles pulling away from Jack to take ahold of the plates full of food. “That’s why I made this.” she raises them slightly but not that much so she won’t spill them.

“Oh, you’re amazing, Ara, really the best!” Luke groans walking over to her and taking one of the savories with tuna and grape.

“I know, that’s why your brother loves me,” a sheepish grin on her face. Jack looks at her with adoration. He shakes his head approaching her and squeezing her side, making her squeal. “Okay, okay, grab the food and go to the living room, I have to get out the fruit in chocolate I made.” She smiles at them pointing at the food.

“Okay!” John says this time walking over there taking two plates in his hands, just like Luke and Nico. Dawson just stands there with a smile on his face until Jack looks at him with raised brows and asks him, “Something on your mind?” he asks.

“No, sorry, I was just thinking how Amara still keeps up with your moody ass!” he laughs at his own words, earning a slap from Jack on the back of his head.

She laughs at them shaking her head at his childness. She takes the two plates of fruit in chocolate making her way in the living room to the guys.

“Here you go,” she places the two plates on the coffee table in front of the guys. “You want something to drink?” she smiles at them as she’s standing there looking at the tv.

“Yeah, some cold lemonade would be awesome.” Nico nods his head looking up to her.

“Okay, I’ll do some. Lemon or strawberry one?” she looks down at him with a big smile. She’s so grateful for him. She loves him like a brother.

“Jack, can you help me, please?” she shouted at him a few minutes later as she was making the lemonade.

“Yeah, I’m coming,” she heard some shuffling before Jack’s head popped in the doorframe. “What’s up, baby?” his arms snuggle around her waist his chin resting on her shoulder.

“Can you, please, hand me the pitcher and ice?” she looks over her shoulder, placing a peck on his full kissable lips.

“Yeah, sure my love.” He pulls away from her, walking over the counter for the pitcher before he hands it to her. He walks over to the fridge getting out the ice.

“Thank you, J.” she smiles at him, kissing his cheek.

“Everything for you, my love!” he kissed her cheek, looking over her shoulder. “I’ll help you.” He gets the knife standing next to her, helping her cut the strawberries.

“Thank you,” she leans her side in his, she continues to cut the fruit. “I love you, Jack.”

“I love you too, and always will.” He whispers in her ear kissing her neck. “My beautiful berry.”

#jack hughes #nhl #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes x y/n #nhl hockey #strawberry!girl au #strawberry x jack hughes #amara x jack 🍓#berry x jack hughes #jh86 #nhl fanfiction #nj devils #new jersey devils fic #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes fic #amara!james

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loserdudes · 1 month

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The Centennial Squad 💯

#boston bruins #bruins #hockey #nhl #why’d they take three days to post the full pic #charlie coyle #charlie mcavoy #matt grzelcyk #kevin shattenkirk #linus ullmark #jeremy swayman #james van riemsdyk #trent frederic

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fourmoony · 6 days

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heyyy read you're looking for requests so here's one! james coming from hockey practice (i love hockey player james) and you tell him that a guy from uni has been hitting on you and stuf. he doesn't get mad just queasy, but then he needs reassurance too!

thanks for requesting, angel!

cw: insecurities, language, unwanted advances

1.4k, modern au, ice hockey James

The tell-tale sound of James' bag being abandoned haphazardly by the door alerts you to his presence. The door clicks shut soon after, followed by a heavy sigh. He's likely exhausted - always is after practice, especially if he and Sirius get caught mouthing off and are punished with bag skating.

James rounds the corner into the living room at the same time you pause your show and sit up to greet him. He doesn't acknowledge your abandoned plate from dinner or the pile of unfolded washing on the arm chair to his left. Instead, he gives you a tired smile and collapses into a heap beside you on the sofa. "Hi, bug." He mumbles, chin tucked into the neckline of his hoodie. Exhaustion seeps from his voice.

"Hi, handsome." You soothe, hand reaching out to toy with the curls at the nape of your boyfriend's neck. They're still damp from his post-practice shower, the smell of his body wash sweet and heady in your nose. "How was practice?"

He lets out a long suffering sigh, leans into your touch, "Stressful. The team isn't where we need to be for the playoffs. Coach made sure to let us know how angry he is about it."

You hum softly, scoot closer to James on the sofa until you're practically in his lap. James likes touch, he likes the connection, the intimacy, the weight of your body on top of his. You're happy to indulge him, the flowers that your boyfriend brings about your rib cage blossoming as his arm wraps around your middle, hoists you fully onto his lap. "What does he expect, you know? Half of his team graduated out, last year. He only has a couple of you guys left and the rest are freshmen." You try to justify James, but it seems the reminder only further sours his mood.

"Yeah, try telling him that. He thinks everyone is just born to be in the NHL, that these guys should already be up to standard, that they don't need the same exact training and coaching that we got." James' voice is thick with coiling tension, even if his muscles seem to be relaxing under you.

You smooth the baby hairs under your fingers, tilting your head until his eyes meet yours, "You're their captain, baby," You smile, "I bet they'd listen to it a lot better coming from you. They like you, look up to you. You be their coach if coach isn't going to step up."

Your boyfriend smiles, the sun peeking through storm clouds. A glimpse of your Jamie. He leans forwards, lips soft and gentle as he presses them to yours. He hums into the kiss, hands squeezing your hips. "Thanks."

"Anytime, handsome."

"How was your day?" James asks, feet stretching out to sit atop the coffee table.

You'd scold him if you weren't so busy quelling the beating of your heart. Any kiss from James sends you reeling, has done since the first time in freshman year. You don't think you'll ever get over the fact that he's your boyfriend. That he loves you as you love him, that you'll grow old and grey together. It never quite feels real.

"Good. Productive. We have a project due for McGonagall's class on Wednesday so I just worked on that most of the day." You don't feel the need to mention that you pointedly worked alone on your half of the project, but James frowns at your words and you know he's going to ask.

"You worked alone?"

"Yeah." You should probably say more, but James has a shorter fuse than Sirius does in general when it comes to you and you don't feel like unleashing all two hundred pounds of ice-hockey muscle onto the arrogant asshole who won't leave you alone.

James' thumb rubs steady circles into the fat of your thigh, his brows hooked upward in the middle a blatant sign of his confusion, "Your group have left you to do all the work?"

"No," You shake your head, "It was just easier to do my part on my own."

James doesn't say anything, but it's clear that he's waiting for you to go on. You sigh through your nose, head falling to rest on your boyfriend's shoulder, "One of the guys in my group has been hitting on me pretty regularly."

"What?" James asks around a swallow, voice hoarse. His muscles tense under you, his thumb pausing it's soothing measures on your thigh.

You shrug, "He keeps saying how he'd treat me right, how a 'pretty girl like me' deserves better. It's all bullshit, so I chose to work myself and just send the rest of the group my sections."

"Right."

It's odd, the way your body reacts to a single word as though it were a slap in the face. Your stomach sinks because you realise James isn't angry. He isn't itching to pound the guy's face into the ground and he isn't insisting you allow him to fix the problem, himself. You remove your head from James' shoulder, find him pale faced and distant. He looks lost, nauseous. "Jamie?"

James shrugs, eyes cold, "What?"

"'Right.'? That's all you have to say to that? What's wrong?" You ask, drawing further away the colder the look in James' eyes gets.

"What would you like me to say? That he might be right?" There's a clipped edge to your boyfriend's voice that you've never heard before, that jolts your body into fight or flight mode quicker than you'd care to admit.

You remove yourself from James' lap, confusion evident on your face as you settle to face him on the coffee table. His feet meet the ground with a thud as he moves to stand. Your hand flies out, a firm grip on his knee that begs him not to move. James gives you a sad look as he complies, fidgets with the draw strings on his jogging bottoms. "You think he has a point?" You ask.

James nods, lips pursed, eyes avoiding yours so evidently it angers you.

"Why?"

Your boyfriend shrugs again, tips his head back and lets out a groan, "You know at the end of this year I'm going to be drafted, right? I'm going to have to move across the country, probably, I won't have a choice in the matter and neither will you."

"We've had this argument before, James. I'm going wherever you go. I don't care where it is! It could be fucking Antartica and I'd still go." Your voice sounds less stern than you'd intended, but James softens slightly at your words.

"But you shouldn't have to just pick up your life and move because of me. You deserve someone who can give you stability and all of their time. I can't." James leans forwards until his elbows are resting on his knees, his face so close to yours you can feel his breaths.

It's an age-old argument, one you and James used to have often in the beginning. Before you knew that you wanted James in your life forever, back when he was trying to push you away with everything he had because he didn't want to risk falling in love with you and having to leave you, one day. The argument lessened the longer you were together, decisions made. You'd made up your mind the day James told you he loved you that you'd follow him anywhere, that you'd give up anything and everything to just be with him.

"I don't want anyone else. I don't care where we are in this world, James. I want you. That's all." You reach for him, thumbs swiping under his eyes in steady motions.

He takes a breath, closes his eyes under your touch. "I can't help but feel I'm asking you to sacrifice more than I'm worth."

And that just won't do. You clamber back onto his lap, legs on either side of his hips and chase his eyes. They're dark in the dim light of the living room, a deep brown filled with fear. "You're worth everything, Jamie. Everything." You tell him. And you mean it.

James swallows, nods. His arms wrap around you, pull you to him until he's falling back into the softness of the couch. "I love you." He tells you, vulnerable as you've ever heard him.

Flowers bloom all along the crevices of your rib cage, pull taught until you're so overflowing with love and happiness that all you can think to do is kiss him. He chases your lips when you pull back, a smile toying at the corner of his mouth. "I love you too, Jamie."

"So you're not gonna leave me for that guy in your Psych class?" He asks, a twinkle in his eye that lets you know he's kidding.

You laugh, loud and obnoxious and your boyfriend swallows it with a world-ending kiss.

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kquil · 2 months

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JAMES POTTER | NO MORE HOCKEY PLAYERS!

REQUEST. : I think this might be too vague but can I request IceHockey!James x Reader angst with fluffy ending. I'm acc in love with the way you write him 🤍🤍 ⏤requested by anon

LENGTH : 1.9k

TAGS : modern au ; muggle au ; ice hockey player james potter ; enemies to lovers? but not really? ; enemies by association to lovers? ; protective james potter ; precious reader ; oc!andrew ; reader in a bad relationship ; james being the knight in shining hockey gear ; angst with fluff ending

WARNINGS : toxic relationship ; mentions of mistreatment in a relationship

You knew what was coming. It was something you were used to seeing, to dealing with in the two years you’ve been dating Andrew. As captain of the Ice Hockey team at Imperial College London and playing the Right-Wing Forward position, he was oftentimes compared to his more prominent, more celebrated counterpart, James Potter.

James Potter was the Ice Hockey captain of his team at UCL and also played the Right-Wing Forward position. Through this similarity, they were often compared and Andrew was beyond irritated by the fact. Irritated and fed up. James never appeared to mind the comparisons, however. In fact, he took it in stride because, in his eyes, the results of a fair game will put the constant equating to rest.

Andrew was passionate about the sport, he really was, his position as Captain was evidence of that dedication, however the constant comparisons in his ear made him highly aggressive on top of his already present anger issues. It wasn’t like this in the beginning, he was once very sweet and caring towards you, aware of your needs and was as much of a best friend as he was your boyfriend. Yes, you weren’t exempt from the occasional disagreement or shouting competition but it’s been so much worse as of late.

Just a couple of months ago, he lost a game to James’ team and finally snapped to the point that he managed to make the usually grinning and charming James Potter flush red with anger and commenced a screaming match that inaugurated an infamous rivalry between the two. That one win against him was also the tipping point for all the whispers comparing the two to sharply peak in favour of James. Now, there was always an undertone of James being viewed as the better one of the two. More charismatic, more diligent, more empathetic, more resilient, more consistent, more respectable… more handsome. All of which fanned the flames of your boyfriend’s anger until it reached dangerous levels.

The matches against them were, now, much more exhilarating but also much more aggressive. It frightened you the first time you saw them play against each other after that horrific encounter the previous game. This wasn’t a good display of sportsmanship. They were like two lions going after each other’s throats, pushing and shoving and colliding at top speeds, baring their teeth menacingly but neither side conceding defeat – they refused to surrender; one had to fall for the other to rise. It was horrifying to witness. You worried for Andrew but you also worried for James. They were both equal in brawn and stature so anything could happen to either side and they weren’t the least bit shy in making their belligerent intentions known. Bruises and sore limbs were expected from the sport but you feared that something more serious could be anticipated in the conflict between the two.

Your heart was almost ready to burst out of your chest when each game began and ended. It didn’t help that you were a frequent witness to Andrew’s harsh criticism towards his own team. Due to his frustrations and boiling anger, he demanded more of himself and, by extension, demanded more of his teammates as well. Many times, you tried to remind him of the fact that he wasn’t going about disciplining or encouraging his team in the right way. A familiar confrontation once became a huge fight that his teammates had to get in the middle of, worried for you, who they had come to think of as part of their own and, vice versa. Gradually, his support from the team dwindled, which meant that, during his combative encounters with James in the rink, he was slowly being left on his own with no one to assist him. He was playing at a higher risk each game and it hurt you to watch. Your love might have dwindled during Andrew’s self-destructive tirade but that didn’t mean you didn’t care for his well-being.

The result was inevitable. Owing to the lack of support from his own teammates and having to counter James’ antagonistic plays by himself, Andrew’s anger and jealousy grew and grew. It was a slap to the face when, at every re-match, his self-sabotaging behaviour led to James and his team’s victory. It was predictable, even for you, but you supported Andrew through it all.

At the end of the match, Andrew sulked in the locker rooms while the rest of the team hurried away, disgruntled by their captain’s pathetic plays, selfish agenda and mistreatment towards them when pinning all the blame for their loss solely on their lack of collaboration when, truly, he was the only one to blame.

“It’ll be okay, Andy–”

“Shut up!” his roaring shout bounced off the walls of the empty locker room. His voice echoed with mourning, betrayal and burning hot rage. It made your shoulders tense from the rising tension.

“Andrew, the way you’re acting i-it isn’t right–!” you tried to reason with him despite his hulking form and much larger frame intimidating you. He didn’t even have to look into your eyes for a shiver to run down your spine; the slamming of his locker door, the throwing of his clothes and the reckless handling of his equipment was enough to make you flinch each time.

“YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO TELL ME WHAT’S RIGHT OR WRONG!” he argues through clenched teeth, pushing the locker room doors open and letting it swing back, almost hitting you as you scurry up behind him.

“Well, you should, at least, try!” In a moment of bravery, you puff out your chest and glare at him, your eyes shining with thinly disguised disappointment and fear. He wasn’t like the Andrew you knew at all… this horrible, violent person was nothing like the Andrew you fell in love with two years ago, “I know you can be a great captain but you’re running yourself and your own team into the ground! Learn to put your ego aside for once!”

“WHY YOU!-- WHO GAVE YOU THE RIGHT TO LECTURE ME?!” his large hand raises and comes swinging down. It’s too late to react, you can only pinch your eyes closed and wait for the impact to come with clenched teeth.

“WHAT RIGHT DO YOU HAVE TO HIT HER?!”

The hit never came. Instead, your eyes snap open to stare in shock at James Potter gripping the wrist of your boyfriend and pushing him away as he tucks you behind him. Too shocked at the situation and the sudden appearance of your boyfriend’s counterpart, you can’t help but just gape at the situation.

No no no! This isn’t meant to happen! You should have left the argument in the locker room!

“She’s my girlfriend! Dipshit!” Andrew snarls and tries to reach for you again but James steps in the way, blocking your view. He’s a solid mountain between you and your irate boyfriend. For the first time in a long time, you felt safe.

“That gives you even less of a right, not that you had any right to hit anyone to begin with,” James pants lightly, his heightened anger making him feel as though he’s run a mile, “If she’s your girl, you should treat her better! Acting like this after a loss is pathetic but pinning it onto your lady is disgusting!” James can handle rough play on the rink because he’s trained for it and he’s grown the thick skin to endure all kinds of impacts. But, when he sees violence like this outside the rink, it’s beyond infuriating, it makes him see red, it makes him want to throw all manner of good will out the window and go charging in like a stubborn bull.

“Fuck! Off!” Andrew shoves him away and grabs your upper arm, tugging you away without any regard for the force in his grip. It happened much too quickly that you couldn’t comprehend everything until you felt a stinging pain bloom in your arm under his grip.

“Ow!… Andrew, stop, please! You’re hurting me!”

“I don’t care! Hurry! Up!” he gives another aggressive tug and you squeal from the pain, willing yourself to suppress it so as to not anger him further. But your cry of hurt was enough to set off an unbelievable chain reaction.

There was a dull but harsh THUMP as James’ clenched fist collides with Andrew’s face, sending him sprawling as two gentle hands come up to your shoulders and gently pull you away from the scene. Those same two hands turn you around and carefully move down to press against your lower back, acting as a guide to lead you a safe distance away. The girl introduces herself as Alice, the girlfriend of Frank, who was the goalie of the UCL team. She leads you with a sympathetic smile past the rest of the James’ teammates, who face forward and grit their teeth at what they were just the witnesses to, some even stepping forward. Whether they wanted to join in or not, you didn’t find out but one was tall with mousy brown hair and the other had dark black hair against pale paper skin and grey eyes – the left defence and the centre of the UCL team.

“You’re okay…” Alice whispers softly, hurrying you along as the sound of punches begin to echo through the hallway, “I’m so sorry, sweetheart,”

As tears slip past your lash line, a shaky whimper escapes your bitten lips and you accept her comfort with a small nod.

Suffice to say, you and Andrew broke up. And for good reason. Many people couldn’t even fathom that someone as soft-hearted and sweet as you would ever give someone like Andrew the time of day when you deserved so much more. What they don’t understand is that he was never like that when you first met… but, you suppose, he finally showed his true colours. But thanks to that, you’ve sworn off dating hockey players ever again!

“Oh!” a happy acknowledgement sounds and draws your eyes up to see a handsome, boyish grin beaming down at you, “It’s you!” His freshly washed locks drip with water and he moves to close the locker room door behind him when his words bring the attention of curious eyes from the rest of his team, all peaking a glimpse of you around his frame.

“Yeah…” you smile softly, nerves shaking anxiously as your hands clasp together for some stability, “sorry for suddenly showing up,”

“It’s alright,” James’ beaming smile doesn’t fade the slightest bit as his eyes shine with relief, “I’m just glad you’re looking okay,”

“Yeah, all thanks to you,” the compliment makes him flush bashfully as a large hand comes up to rub the back of his neck. For a guy with a bear-like frame, he pulls off the adorable puppy look pretty well.

“Did you watch the game?” he hurries to change the topic and instead of answering, you hold up a cutely wrapped batch of homemade cookies. Andrew was once the only person who had exclusive access to your home baked goodies but he lost that privilege a long time ago. It’s time to associate your baking with something (someone) more positive and deserving.

“Wow! Thanks!” James eyes your offer with wide eyes and was already drooling from the sugary scent in the air, seducing him into taking it and having a bite. You smile at his moans of gratification and allow his free flowing compliments to boost your confidence, “will you be coming to our next game?” he suddenly asks, catching you off guard.

“Uhh..--”

“Please come,” his eyes plead with you but when you don’t answer, he bargains, “I’ll win it for you,”

No more hockey players be damned.

A/N : i love writing hockey player james potter too~ he's just so dreamy! ahhhhh! it's probably one of my favourite aus of james potter! (,,o // o,,) thank you so much for the request, anon-darling! im so sorry for taking so long, i hope you enjoy the read!

NAVI.

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