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pretty-little-mind33 · 1 day

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Suburban Legends

Ice hockey!James Potter x fem!reader

Summary: James tries to teach you how to Ice Skate.

Genre: Fluff, smidge of hurt and comfort

Warnings: muggle au, swearing, James is an asshole sometimes, arguments, jealousy, insecurities

~ * ~

James Potter can be a complete prick. He never means to, not really, but he can be.

You had told him you'd never been ice skating, and he had been visibly appalled. "You're dating a hockey player and you've never been skating?" he'd reprimanded, as if dating him was your one mission in life.

You'd rolled your eyes for the fifth time that day, already annoyed by his attitude, but as he ties the laces of your skates now—his shaggy dark hair falling in front of his eyes—you hide a smile.

He looks up, patting your skates, and grins. "There you go, all done," he stands and pulls you up with him. You wobble shakily on the blades, and James smiles at you fondly. A few of his friends chuckle as you hold onto his arm as he moves towards the rink.

"Honey, don't bend your ankles," he says.

You shoot him a glare. "I'm not doing it on purpose," you say, continuing to hide a smile as you hold onto him tighter, "prick." James laughs as he gently guides you out onto the rink.

The very moment your blades hit the ice, your balance becomes all wonky, and you panic, almost sliding from under James's arms. It's his turn to hide a smile as he pulls you up and glides effortlessly in front of you.

He takes your hands and slowly skates backwards as he looks down at your skates. "Okay, don't you worry, darlin', I won't let you fall," he turns to watch as his friends step onto the ice easily, "Here, look at how Lils does it."

Lily Evans skates next to you, her auburn hair falling over her shoulders, and you watch her. She looks so elegant, and jealousy sits in your stomach. You try to mimic her movements for a while with James being as patient as ever.

Occasionally, he catches you a few times so you don't fall, and you feel hopeless at this. You feel even more helpless when James's teammates and friends call out to him and ask him to skate with them.

They tease him, and he turns to them with a smirk, holding your hands, but you know he wants to join them. "You can go, Jamie, I'll be okay," you say, and you mean it. James looks unsure.

Lily adds, "I'll watch over her, Potter."

Finally, James nods and skates over to his friends. He wraps his arms around them as they act like little schoolboys on the playground. You're truly fine with James having his fun, and anyway, you don't have time to worry about him as you almost trip on your blades, and Lily catches your arm.

It feels like hours pass as your feet start to ache. You've gained a little more confidence and have moved away from the wall, but you still grip onto Lily's hand as she skates with you.

Sometimes, James sneaks up on you to twirl you around. When he does this, you smack his chest as you steady yourself and warn him not to do that again. He didn't listen, and by the third time, it wasn't funny anymore.

You really, really didn't want to fall.

Suddenly, you hear laughter before large hands grip your waist and scoop you up, higher than the previous times. James's laughter drowns out Lily's protest as you squeal. Your boyfriend turns you around, and with a little too much momentum, drops you on the ice again.

You gasp as your feet slide under him, and his smile disappears as you crash to the ground. James spreads his legs so he doesn't hit you with his blades, and you slip forward, almost crashing into the wall behind him. You hear amused laughter from James's friends.

"Shit, are you okay?" James asks quickly, his voice small, as he skates up to you again and this time helps you up with gentler hands. Your own hands hurt from the ice, and your eyes water as you feel everyone staring at you.

It was embarrassing enough to be so bad at something so important to someone you love, but this was humiliating.

Luckily, you'd fallen close enough to the exit of the rink that you could grip the wall and pull yourself out. Quickly, James is behind you as he attempts to take your hand as you walk towards the bench. Your jeans are wet, and when you sit down, you wince from how much your ass hurts.

Silently, you start to unlace your skates as the tears fall. James kneels down and covers your hands with his as he tries to stop you. "Honey, I'm sorry," he says, but you just glare at him. If he had puppy ears, they would be fully laying on his head now.

"I asked you to stop," you sniff sadly and wipe at your tears, "Why didn't you listen?"

James's heart aches, "I'm sorry," he whispers again and looks at you sincerely. "I am so sorry. That was a jerk move, love. Please, come back out onto the rink," James is begging now, and you shake your head.

"No," you say. James looks crestfallen. You look up and see that his friends have gathered around the entrance to the rink and are staring at you both. That makes you feel worse as you drop your skates and slip on your sneakers. You don't even lace them as you stand and rush out to the car.

Tears sting your eyes when you remember you'd both taken James' car and it's locked. Hopelessly, you lean against the passenger door and bury your face in your hands. A few minutes later, you hear a familiar beep as James unlocks the car.

You look up. James is carrying his skates in his hand as he walks over. His friends aren't behind him, and you feel slightly shitty as he walks up, pops open the trunk, and slides his skates inside. He doesn't speak when he closes the trunk and comes over to you. He wraps you in his arms.

You melt into his touch, cheeks burning as you press your nose into his chest. James cups your cheeks. "I'm a prick. I'm sorry. You're allowed to be mad. You told me to stop, and I didn't listen to you," he says as he strokes your hair. "Can you forgive me, lovely?"

You pull away and look at your incredibly stupid, adorable boyfriend. You want to be madder than you are, but it's so hard to be cross with James when he's wrapped his strong arms around you.

You chew on your lip, "I just wanna be good at this—like all your friends," you confess, "I thought you would like me more if I was," you finish and look away.

James frowns and takes your chin in his hand again, "What did you just say?"

You continue to chew on your lip, "You'd like me more if I was. You'd take me on cute ice skating dates, and we'd look cute and—"

James cuts you off with a loud laugh. "What are you on about, Y/n?" he runs his thumb over your lip and then kisses your nose, "Your ice skating skills have nothing, and I mean, nothing to do with why I like you. Why I love you."

Your head snaps up at the words. I love you. You hadn't said I love you yet, and your heart starts pounding in your chest. "You love me?" you whisper, wanting confirmation.

You half expect James to backpedal, to become flustered and panicked, and make up some elaborate excuse as to how his brain had forced his mouth to utter words that sounded like I love you.

Instead, he nods and cups your cheek in his larger hand, "Mmhm," he smiles fondly, "I love you." You feel warmth spread in your stomach, and all your frustration towards him disappears.

You fully melt in his arms now. "I love you too," you say after a moment, and James's shoulders visibly relax.

"I was scared you weren't gonna say it," he mutters, sounding genuinely concerned. You roll your eyes at him but lean up to kiss his mouth anyways.

"You're an idiot," you tell him in between kisses, a wide smile on your face, "But you're my idiot."

Yes, James Potter can happen to act like a complete prick, but at the end of the day, that never matters because he's yours.

Your love.

The person you love the most and who loves you the most.

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werewolfwhispersandwizardsshouts · 2 months

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After Regulus dies, James always wears a sliver ring with a star on it on his middle finger. People are always asking him why he wears all gold jewellery except for that one ring. He just shrugs

#just thinkin #marauders era #random #thoughts #marauders #thinking #james potter #james fleamont potter #james x regulus #regulus x james #jegulus #regulus black #james loves regulus #harry potter marauders #maraduers #the marauders #dead gay wizards from the 70s #gay dead wizards #dead gay wizards

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riveliha · 1 month

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Evan, in a hurry, sits down with a stranger at a coffee shop: listen... help me out, be my boyfriend for a couple minutes. I'm just being followed.

Barty:

Evan: you're not a serial killer are you?

Barty: well, that depends on how many people you have to kill to be a serial killer.

Evan: uh, five?

Barty: oh, that's okay then!

#marauders #harry potter #maraders era #rosekiller #evan rosier #barty crouch junior #barty crouch jr #slytherin skittles #evan rosier x barty crouch jr #maraduers #marauders fandom #the marauders #marauders fic

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wolfofwritingstreet · 1 year

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Hello

If you’re into the marauders (i know you are), a cat animagus interacting with the marauders without them realising that she’s not a real cat please.

AN: Hello there... It is I... The man the myth the legend... I am two of those things ... my p is large ... enjoy

Reblog, vote, comment, request.

KITTY

FEM!READER X PLATONIC!MARAUDERS

Currently, your butt was being scratched... Now, this would be weird if you weren't a cat. Well, you weren't like a cat-cat, but you were an animagus - curtesy of being a part of the infamous Marauders. Though, you were an illegitimate animagus, so only: Sirius, Remus, James and Peter knew that it was in fact you on Lily's lap rather than an actual stray.

"You are such a cute kitty." Lily cooed, scratching your ears with her nails whilst her other hand flipped through the charms homework you were yet to start reading. Oh well, hopefully Remus would do it for you if you promised him chocolate on the annual Hogsmead trip.

"I want to hold it-" You bristled at Alice's use of 'it', and Marlene lent forward to smack her leg.

"She is a she, A."

"Oooh, my bad kitty. You are a lady."

"What are you ladies fawning over." You flopped back onto Lily's legs in defeat, hearing the cocky voice of Sirius wash over you. That boy constantly claimed it was the 'household hierarchy' that dogs trumped cats. But you knew that was in terms of idiocy, as you had caught the grey-eyed boy chasing his tail when he thought none of you were watching.

"Kitty?" James stared at you, and you stared back with big yellow eyes.

"Yes, James. It's a cat." Lily rolled her eyes, and you hissed when Sirius flicked your ear. The problem with being a cat, is ear flicks hurt ten times more.

"Don't do that!" Dorcas cried, scooping you up into her arms and carrying you to safety as you smugly watched Sirius get verbally beaten down by the girls who's group cat you had become since the start of the year. You'd told them all you were practicing quidditch after hours, and nobody questioned it- well the boys didn't have to.

"Let it go now, Dorc. She needs to go now, we've had her long enough." Marlene didn't even crack her eyes open when she took a long drag from her cigarette, before pointing it at the common room door.

"Fine." Dorcas gently lifted your front paw and waved it, you would have flushed at the boys grins if you were human, but alas you could do nothing but wave a floppy paw. Dorcas eventually made it outside the common room and placed you down, giving you a toe curling scratch behind the ear. "See you later, Kitty."

Dorcas gave a little wave, before disappearing back into the common room. By the time someone came back out, you had changed back and were pulling a piece of cat hair from your mouth with a grimace.

"Evening, Kitty." A low voice drawled mockingly from the doorway.

"Don't say a word, Black."

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THANK YOU FOR READING, will be making shorter posts to keep me motivated. VOTE, COMMENT, REBLOG, and REQUEST.

Marauders master list ->Here

#maraduers #marlene mckinnon x reader #marauders imagine #sirius black x reader #james potter x reader #remus lupin x reader #peter pettigrew #lily evans x reader #dorcas meadowes #alice fortescue #harry potter imagine

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wreckofawriter · 6 months

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Lucky Charm

♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~

pairing: james potter x reader

summary (request by @delusionalcancer): hello! I was wondering if you could do a James Potter fiction where he has a very important quidditch match and begs you to go but you can’t so he is really sad but midway through he sees you in the crowd and gets super happy? Sorry if requests are closed!

word count: 5k

warnings: weed, language, a tiny bit of angst, james calls you doll, no y/n (i think)

a/n: been really liking writing about quidditch recently lol. This is based on book!james who is a chaser not a seeker. its a bit cheesy but i think its cute

♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~

The common room was never quiet after Gryffindor had a quidditch match. Even when you lost -a rare occasion- there would be a crowd of bitter fans, grumbling about an unfair call or an unlucky miss, late into the night. Usually quidditch brought life and excitement to Gryffindor, no matter the outcome. But today as students in red and gold shuffled up the marble staircases and through the portrait hole they were silent, even in large groups there was no more than a hushed nervous whisper among them. The usual complaints that followed a loss had been discarded and forgotten.

It bothered you. It was uncanny and made you shift uncomfortably in your chair by the fireplace. A glance around told you that you weren't the only one feeling that way, an uneasy air had filled the room.

The match had been a brutal one, even now the heavy drops pounded against the windows of the tower, the winds shifting and fighting, unable to decide which way to blow. The air was just cold enough to turn what should have been rain to sleet, sharp and cold. Many had been surprised that the match had even taken place, expecting it to be canceled due to such terrible conditions. But the heads of houses refused to back away from a challenge, and the Gryffindor team hardly seemed to mind.

“Quidditch is played in any weather and every weather.” James had insisted, the morning before the match, “They won’t cancel a match for anything and I don't expect them to.”

You had stared up at the enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall anxiously watching as chunks of hail were blown sideways uneasily, “I don’t think I even wanna go watch.”

James' face dropped as soon as you said this, “What? No!” he exclaimed, “You have to come watch. You're my lucky charm!”

And of course when he said that with his lips pulled into his signature boyish pout you couldn’t deny him anything.

Gryffindor was the favorite to win this year's cup, as they were every year since James joined the house team. It wasn’t all him of course but he had something no one else seemed to possess; raw and unbridled talent. People often joked that he was born to ride a broom, but it was hardly a joke. James’ broom wasn’t something he rode, it was a part of him. It seemed to a spectator that he could hop onto it and tell it what to do with nothing but his mind. He was graceful and precise so casually it seemed as if he were hardly trying at all. Today's game against Slytherin had been a shoe in, an expected win.

Which is why the loss had come with such a heavy silence. You couldn’t deny that Slytherin thought ahead, they too had been expecting the rain and had been a bit smarter about it, casting a series of enchantments and charms onto their players, paying extra attention to their seeker. So while your team fumbled through heavy storm clouds bogged down by drenched robes, the Slytherins had a relatively easy time navigating the skies. With this advantage they had taken the opportunity to humiliate the Gryffindor team as much as possible.

Their chasers played dirty, purposefully slamming into the Gryffidors and then claiming they simply had not seen them. Their beaters were ruthless as well, using their bats for hitting more than just bludgers, one of them had hit your new third year seeker, Aada Laine, straight between the eyes with their wooden bat, breaking her glasses in two and bloodying her nose.

James, who was so used to winning and doing it easily, took this bitter start to the match poorly. His anger had risen quickly leading to a number of unnecessary fowls that the Slytherin team took with great enthusiasm and by the time Regulus had caught the snitch right from under a near blinded Aada, Slytherin was already up 120 to 40. Perhaps it was just the shame of a horrible game but as James landed he had been angrier than you had ever seen him. His usually unruly hair plastered down across his skull from the rain, one of the lenses of his glasses was cracked and he was gripping his broom so tightly you had been surprised it had not snapped in two.

His obnoxious parade that usually occurred after a match had not taken place, in fact he had not even glanced at where you, Sirius, and Remus stood waiting for him on the edge of the pitch. Instead he marched across the mucky grass straight towards the seeker.

She was sobbing uncontrollably despite the fact that her nose and glasses had both been fixed by Madame Hooch. A few other teammates stood around the young girl attempting to offer comfort. But when James reached her he did no such thing, in fact he snatched the broom from her hand and yelled so loudly that even over the whipping of the wind and the jeers of Slytherin you had heard him kick her off the team. The rest of the Gryffidors had made to protest angry shouts and bitter words thrown at James but he had simply marched across the field and into the changing room leaving Aada wailing even louder than before.

No one had seen James since, and as you sat quietly in the common room with the other students it began to seem like you were all waiting for him. Waiting for him to show up, all smiles and jokes, and everything would go back to normal. But as hours ticked by and he never showed it became clear this was not going to be the case.

By dinner time the common room had almost completely cleared out. The die-hard fans retreated to bed while the rest of the house trooped miserably to the Great Hall preparing for the taunts and jeers from the Slytherin table across the hall.

It was almost dark by the time Remus climbed through the portrait hole looking annoyed, but he grinned when he saw you.

“No dinner?” You asked him and he shook his head sitting beside you.

“Been out looking for James.”

Your eyes widened, “You still haven't found him?”

“No we did.” He assured you quickly, “He's just acting like a prick so I decided I wanted to come in and dry off.”

“Makes sense,” you sighed, “he looked furious out there.”

“Tell me about it.” Remus groaned slumping back, his wet robes soaking onto the couch as he kicked his feet up on the coffee table, “He’s sulking like a child out at the boat house.”

“Oh, he’s very mature.” You chidded and you both grinned lightly.

There was a moment of quiet and the fireplace snapped, a portrait yawning.

“I don't suppose you could go get him?” Remus asked, looking up at you hopefully.

You sighed expecting this, “What makes you think I could bring him to reason?”

“You know how he is,” Remus said and he was right. You knew exactly how James was, earnest and genuine and proud. You thought about it for a minute, Remus eyeing you hopefully. Reluctantly you gave in. “Well I best go get him.”

You mumbled complaints under your breath on your way down towards the lake, the enticing smell and warmth of the great hall taunting you as you passed.

The trail to the boat house was muddied and steep. By the time you reached the bottom you were shivering and damp, glad for the cover it provided from the wind and rain. James was seated at the edge of one of the docks staring out across the lake.

You sat next to him and he turned, “Oh.” he said, “I thought you were Sirius.”

You grimace, “Does my hair look that bad?”

James' usual laugh didn’t follow and instead he cracked a small forced grin.

You’re both quiet for a moment, the sound of the rain pounding onto the roof and splashing onto the water.

“Congrats on the game by the way.” You say.

“What?” James looked at you bitterly, “That's not funny.”

You grin, “Yeah but you were, I’d stand out in that shit weather to watch you knock Connaham off his broom again.”

James paused, “He scored because of that.”

“Eh, whatever,” you shrug, “Totally worth it.”

You were expecting a laugh but instead James just shook his head, “You don’t understand.”

“Well then explain it to me.” You said, rolling your eyes playfully at him.

“We’ve got absolutely no chance at the cup anymore.” He says fiercely.

You shrug again, “Since when I thought we were favorites? You just lost one game.”

By the way James looks at you you can tell he's getting frustrated but you don't back off keeping his gaze lock with yours.

“Ravenclaw hasn’t lost at all, and there's no way we're beating them by 230 points. We’d have to be 80 points up and catch the snitch.”

“That doesn't mean impossible.” You point out and he glares.

“You don't understand quidditch.”

“Says who?” you say and he shoots you a look, “Okay so what if I don't understand quidditch, I do understand that you're bloody good at it.”

Your praise raises a genuine smile out of him for the first time that night.

“Didn’t know you thought so highly of me.” He said, wiggling his brows.

“Don't let it go to your head.”

There's another pause in conversation and you take the opportunity to pull a small joint from the pocket of your robes.

James grins, “Ah so this is the reason you're out in the cold.”

“What? No! I'm here purely to comfort you.” You giggle, lighting it with the flick of your wand.

He watches you out of the corner of his eye, the way your face lights up from the soft orange glow of burning hash. Your eyes sparkle and your lips pucker as you exhale. He finds it hard to look away but does so quickly when you turn to look at him.

“Want some?”

He nods and takes the joint from you grinning, “Thanks doll.”

You flush at the pet name, something he called you a bit too often.

The two of you pass it back and forth a couple times silently, watching the cold rain splatter onto the surface of the lake.

“You should really apologize to Aada though.” You mumble the slight buzz of your high making your voice sound floaty.

James doesn't say anything for a moment before he folds his arms stubbornly, “I was serious about that. She played like shit.”

You furrow your brow, “You all did James, that's not fair.”

Heat rises to his cheeks as shame bubbles in his stomach, “I don’t care if it's not fair. That snitch was four centimeters from her nose when Black caught it. She cost us the game.”

“Her broken nose.” You fight back, “And it's a team sport, she screwed up yeah, but so did you.”

Embarrassment flooded James' head in an angry red, “If it weren't for me it would have been a bloody blowout!” He snaps and you're taken aback, “I scored every damn point we had and youre saying I screwed up?”

You look at him bitterly, “Yeah I am. You let yourself get all pissed off before the game was even up and your team fell apart. You're the captain, take some responsibility.” you scoff.

James is now glowering, the softness of being high turned sharp and awkward, “You don’t even know what youre talking about.”

“I may know nothing about quidditch James but I do know that making a little girl cry over a game is a prick move.” You spit.

“It's not just a game!” He shouted at you so loud you flinched back.

Your eyes are narrowed as you stand, “That's exactly what it is James, a game. And you let yourself get all worked up over it like a child.”

He tenses as you speak, he feels as if someone had punched him in the gut when you look at him like that. But his pride takes over in a swoop and anger rises as he stands too, “What are you even doing down here?” He demands, “To smoke fucking weed and ‘comfort me’? You're not my bloody girlfriend!”

You stop dropping your shoulders, he was right of course, you weren't his girlfriend. As much as everyone always seemed to assume you were, as much as you flirted and touched, sneaking off together into the night beneath his cloak. The two of you had always toed the line of intimacy but you had yet to cross it, something you lay awake thinking about most nights.

“You're right.” You state firmly, “I don’t know what I’m doing down here.” And you turn, throwing the roach onto the ground and stomping it out. You're back out into the night grateful, as the weather hides your tears.

James doesn't follow though he bites his tongue harshly when you leave, wanting to call out, apologize and beg you to stay with him. But he doesn't, just watching you go with balled fists before he yells and swings at the stone wall.

The next morning is awkward when James makes it down to the great hall for breakfast, his hair messier than usual and dark circles under his eyes, the knuckles on his right hand scabbed.

The two of you sit on opposite sides of Sirius who carried the conversation on his back with great effort.

“Godric, what is up with you two?” He asks finally, “You’re walking around like fuckin’ corpses.”

“Nothing.” you shrug not meeting his eyes, “Just tired.”

Sirius eyes you both, and then glances at Remus who is mentally praying for him to shut up. “Sure…”

You excuse yourself to head to Arithmancy and Sirius turns to James immediately, “So you guys finally shagged huh?”

James sputters and Remus scoffs in disbelief.

“That's not while you’re all awkward?” He gaped, “What the hell else could it be?”

James grimaced, “We just… had an argument. “

“Don’t tell me it was over Quidditch.” Sirius says and James looks away, “Christ you're an idiot.”

James just nods in agreement, letting his head rest in his arms. All of the anger he felt towards you had been replaced by regret over his sleepless night and now all he wanted was for you to smile at him, but you wouldn’t even meet his eyes.

“Well, apologize.” Remus says, beginning to pack up his things, “Seems you have a lot of apologizing to do after yesterday.”

James stares gloomily at where you had been sitting, “Yeah I know.”

It's not till lunch when he finally gets you alone, cornering you on your way out of Herbology and back up to the castle. The grounds are wet from yesterday's weather and your shoes are covered in mud.

“I’m sorry.” Is the first thing that comes out of his mouth, “I didn’t mean to yell at you last night, I was just upset and tired and I… I shouldn’t have done that. I'm really sorry doll.”

You eye him skeptically, looking for a hint of anything but pure sincerity, but find none. His eyes are glued to you like he's begging you to forgive him and as usual you just can't say no.

“All’s forgiven James.” You say simply, “Though you're lucky I didn't push you into the lake.”

Neither of you mention the real reason you stormed back to the castle last night, what he had said about what you were, or more what you weren’t. The topic seemed too heavy for the bright sun that seeps through cracks in the clouds.

He grins and throws an arm around you, “See this is why you're the best.”

You raise a brow, “Why ‘cuz I put up with all your bullshit?”

“No, because you forgive me for all my bullshit.”

“That's because I know you're an idiot who only means about half of what he says.” You snicker and it feels as if the world has gone back to spinning when he leans into you.

“I'd give myself at least a good three quarters.” He smirks.

“Of course you would.”

Remus looks pleased to see you hooked under James’ arm when you enter the common room, “See you two have kissed and made up.”

You flush.

“I think we're missing half that equation.” James said slyly, leaning in to peck your cheek, “There, all better.”

“Get off me James,” You huff, heart pounding as you half-heartedly push him away to take a seat on the couch and you know everything is back to normal when he sits beside you and throws his arm back over your shoulder with a pout.

And things stay normal, well as normal as they usually are.

The weather begins to warm and the trees begin to sprout new growth, green and pink flowering across the forest whenever you look out the window. A sense of excitement has gathered in the students, even as exams approach the sun gleaming through dusty windows in the castle make everyone feel giddy.

James has been practicing non-stop now as the final match against Ravenclaw approaches. He's out late, keeping the team out till dark to run drill after drill, play after play. He's even taken to giving private lessons to the new seeker, “Can’t have them falling apart when I leave, doll,'' He explained when you asked, “Plus I need her to be prepared for the match, we’re gonna win that cup again I swear.”

It was nice to see he was nothing but optimism again, his natural state. But it all crashed to the ground when the date for the match was set.

Your eyes go wide when he tells you, “The 16th?”

“Yeah, so you better start making your ‘Go Potter’ banner now.” He says cheekily.

“James..” You pause and feel guilt bubble in your chest, “I have my apparition test on the 16th. It was set ages ago.”

His face falls, “I thought we all took the test back in January!”

You shake your head, “Wasn’t 17 yet, my mum had to pull some strings so I didn't have to wait till summer.”

“So you can't come?” He’s devastated, his heart sinking into his stomach, he doesn't just want you there, he needs you there; to glance down at in the crowd after he scores, to wink at as he sweeps past, “But youre my lucky charm.” His voice is so soft it hurts.

“I know James, I’m so sorry, I had no idea.” You look down at your hands unable to handle the disappointment that was written on his face.

He doesn't say anything, just staring down at the food on his plate. Suddenly his appetite was gone, he didn’t know what to think, how to think. What was even the point of quidditch if you couldn’t be impressed by his amazing dives and dodges?, “Will you at least be there before the match?” he asks.

You shake your head, “I’m leaving Friday after classes. My mum is gonna bring me back on Sunday.”

And he wanted to cry, it was childish and dramatic but it felt like you were abandoning him before his big moment, his big match, one that he had been working so incredibly hard to win, “Oh.” is all he can muster out and you're both left looking at your laps.

You apologize again, and try not to let the heaviness in your chest drag you through the floor. You weren’t sure if there was anything worse than disappointing him, you preferred him fiery and fuming.

When James reached the Quidditch pitch for practice that day he seemed to have lost all of his energy, his feet dragging. He kept getting asked if he was okay and he kept saying yes even though it felt like someone had smashed him to bits and put him back together with nothing but scotch tape.

He played terribly, his usual charisma lost leaving his passes stale. He felt anger rising with every mistake he made, how could he let this happen? How could he let you have so much impact on him? How could one person missing from a stand of hundreds make him not even want to play? It was infuriating how obsessed he had become with you. Sirius and Remus had warned him this would happen, that his little crush would grow into a bulging monster, and they had been right. He simply couldn’t help it, you were stunning. And funny and brilliant and every other positive adjective he could possibly come up with, he would list what he liked about you for years if you asked. It was this reason he just couldn’t bring himself to confess, the only thing worse than having to keep you at arm's length was losing you altogether. And despite his friend's assurance that his feelings were returned he just couldn’t risk it, he couldn’t risk being wrong and not even being able to call you his friend anymore. Because, once again, he needed you.

So he played it up, with the petnames and the touches, he took what he could trying to make it obvious, to convince you to make the move he so desperately wanted to. But you hadn't, you had just blushed and giggled, turning his heart to mush.

And now he was sitting in an empty locker room, tears spilling down his cheeks because you couldn’t be at the most important game he had ever played, would ever play. He wiped them away desperately but they just kept coming, making his face feel hot and his head throb.

The ache didn’t go away over time like he thought it would but grew, weighing him down like a ball and chain. Everyone noticed, his friends, his teammates and worst of all you.

You kept apologizing, like it was your fault that his match had been scheduled on the one weekend you would be out of the castle. He could tell you felt terrible about it and it only made him feel worse that he wasn’t just bringing down his own performance but your own. If you didn’t pass your exam he was sure it would be his fault for making his own devastation at your departure so obvious.

The sixteenth approached with building anticipation, the Ravenclaws and Gryffindors that usually got on quite well had begun to shout obscenities at each other at dinner. Team members were taunted constantly in corridors on the way to classes, a duel had even broken out between two beaters, landing them both in the hospital wing for a short spell. But of course ever the strategist, the Ravenclaws had saved their best ammo for last.

It was Friday night before the match and you had already left giving James a hug and a quick kiss on the cheek ‘for luck’ that had actually improved his mood quite a bit. As if sensing this the Ravenclaw captain had materialized before him on his way back from dinner with a sick grin on his face.

“Heard not even your girlfriend wants to watch you lose tomorrow Potter.”

James flushed red, “Piss off, Robinson.”

He just laughed, “I mean after your horrid performance last match I bet you asked her to leave huh?”

James tried to swallow his fury but he was not doing very well, his fists bunching at his sides.

“Maybe when I win she’ll realize you're all talk and finally go on that date with me.” he taunts.

James knows this is very untrue, you had confessed to him many times that you found Robinson nothing short of annoying, claiming he had an even bigger head than himself, but he still felt jealousy rising in his gut. Would you think less of him if he lost again? Would you laugh about it behind his back? Would you give some other guy a kiss on the cheek and wish him luck instead? He wasn’t sure he could bear even the thought.

He strode past Robinson with a seething glance, “You're gonna be bloody crying by the time the match is over tomorrow.” He hissed and then marched up the stairs to a restless night of dreams involving you kissing some faceless guy in blue quidditch robes.

James felt sick the next morning, his head was throbbing behind his eyes and no matter how much bacon he tried to force into his mouth he just didn’t feel like eating. It wasn’t until Aada came up to him literally shaking from nerves that he realized he was just gonna have to pretend to be okay.

He gave his usual pep talk in the locker room, but his eyes were cold and hard instead of the usual glowing excitement that he alluded. The team was tense when they marched out onto the field, the sun was out and the sky was clear. A cold morning breeze swept across the grass as he shook hands with a smirking Robinson and he shivered.

The whistle blew and it began.

“Potter with the quaffle!” The commentator began, “Nice dodge there, oh that looked like it hurt! It’s Ravenclaw with it now.”

James growled rubbing his side where the bludger had hit him and racing after the girl who had snatched his fumble.

The game pushed on and James was surprised to find that while he was playing mediocre at best, the rest of the team seemed to be making up for it on the tenfold. Aada, who had been instructed to do nothing but annoy the Ravenclaw seeker until Gryffindor was eighty points up was doing a magnificent job, the extra time he had put into training�� her showing obviously in her skillful maneuvering and dives. The beaters had yet to miss a hit and twice James had been able to score with only the keeper as an obstacle.

Despite the fact that they had gone in at a significant disadvantage the Gryffindors were shockingly loud, James didn’t glance much at the crowd, afraid it would make him realize who wasn’t there more than who was, but he could hear them even over the whooshing of wind in his ears.

They were almost an hour into the game when the snitch was first spotted, but only 50 points up, Aada was unable to go for it and instead took the opportunity to run straight into the Ravenclaw keeper, nearly knocking him off his broom. She played it off beautifully, tears and all, and it cost them only one penalty shot which their keeper saved. James could have hugged them both.

When the quaffle was tossed after, Robinson had snatched it from James’ grasp and sped towards the hoops. A bludger caught him in the side and the quaffle spiraled from his grip down towards the Gryffindor crowd, James raced after it, his feet sweeping inches from the heads of his classmates when he caught it with a roll. It was then that something caught his eye.

A flag so large it was being held by four people was spread and waving mere inches from his face, the words, “Go Potter!” sprawled on it in red and gold ink that had been enchanted to send off sparks that crackled and snapped with golden light.

He looked down and saw you staring up at him, a red hat pulled over your head as you cranned up at him, waving your arms as wildly as you could possibly manage. You were grinning so wide he could see each of your teeth, your cheeks pink and eyes glinting as you cheered up at him.

When you locked eyes he felt his heart rise from his stomach and pound away in his chest. He wanted to drop into the stands that very moment, take you into his arms and kiss you stupid. But instead he sent you a wink and sped off towards the goals feeling like someone had just gifted him a pair of wings.

“Potter with the quaffle, bludger coming his way. A beautiful dodge!” The commentator yelled, “And he's looped Robinson as well, look at him go!”

James had never felt so confident in his life, and he scored with ease again and again, coming to do a victory lap round your flag each time he did.

“And Potter scores again!” shouted the loudspeakers, “He has been simply unstoppable! Gryffindor leads 160 to 80!”

The cheers were deafening around you and James once again hoovered above you momentarily, blowing you a kiss that caused your cheeks to light on fire. He was actually doing it, he was winning the match he had told you was impossible and pride swelled in your stomach. It wasn't ten minutes later when Aada caught the snitch and it was official, you had won, both the game and the cup.

The team hurdled to the ground and swarmed their seeker, but James had started in a run the opposite way, towards the crowd that was now rushing out onto the pitch.

He shoved past the first few to reach him and beelined for where you were jogging at him, arms spread.

You collided with such force that if he hadn’t lifted you into the air you were sure you would have toppled over onto the ground. His arms wrapped around your waist spinning you around with a shout, “You came!”

You nodded, smiling so hard it hurt, you looked down at him, his cheeks flushed, brown eyes glistening in the sunlight and you knew at that moment that it was meant to be. You took both hands and cupped his face pulling it into yours and kissing him feverishly.

There was a loud chorus of cheers and whoops around you but neither of you heard, too lost in the taste of one another. When you broke away he was grinning even wider, “You passed then?”

You had forgotten all about your test that morning, but he hadn’t, of course he hadn’t.

“Yeah, I disappeared as soon as they handed me my license.” You giggled, heart hammering in your chest, “Mum’s gonna kill me for missing dinner.”

“You’re a bloody treasure doll.” He laughed, and then he drew you into another kiss squeezing you tight around the middle as your hands ran through his hair. “My lucky charm.”

♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~

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starchaserfanatic · 4 months

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POV: You look, and look, and look for a fic you read a long time ago, that you absolutely adored, only to find out it was DELETED. FOREVER. WITHOUT WARNING.

And now a tiny part of you has shriveled up and died because the itch to read that fic once more will never be scratched again.

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flowgeeksout · 10 months

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When you are reading fanfiction you are looking for something good and are reading the description/tags and you see something and you just nope and scroll so fast like it might contagious?

#just a me thing?#jegulus #james x regulus #regulus black #james potter #maraduers #harry potter #regulus x james #james potter x regulus black #regulus black x james potter #valgrace #merthur #merlin x arthur #arthur x merlin #rosekiller

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mikokiku · 3 months

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Jegulus microfic.

James was the sun that burned when you got to close. Warm and nice from distance, but always too much when you got closer.

Regulus on the other side was a star. Seeming so innocent, so harmless, so cold. No one seemed to realise that stars also burn.

Sometimes even hotter than sun.

So truly, when that something has started between the two of them James was so sure that he would burn Regulus. Once again being too much.

What he did not expect was how hot Regulus himself burned.

For once, James wasn't the one burning someone. This time he got burned.

#jegulus #jegulus angst #somehow it turned into a microfic??#microfic #jegulus microfic #maraduers #hp marauders #regulus black #james potter #marauders era #harry potter #istg it was supposed to be a funfact about stars

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edneyy · 3 months

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okay i need peoples help to find a fic that’s been on my mind for literally weeks and I CANT FIND IT. okay so it’s a jegulus one, possible with marylily (can’t explicitly remember). ANYWAY so lily breaks up with james (they have harry - no war btw) because she doesn’t feel right in their marriage (TOTALLY VALID WE HAVE NO LILY BASHING HERE) and james moves in with his parents, with whom regulus is also living with. basically they fall in love bla bla bla. but james suffers a lil cause his friends don’t know what to do with the break up and end up not visiting him a lot - regulus yells at them, they sort themselves out, all is well - PLEASE TELL ME PEOPLE CAN FIND IT.

#james potter #marauders fanfiction #maraduers #regulus black #lily evans #mary mcdonald #sirius black #remus lupin #marlene mckinnon #harry potter #euphemia potter #monty potter #fleamont potter #indie #help #please #i beg of you #jegulus #marylily

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aanoia · 4 months

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𝒅𝒂𝒚 𝒆𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒆𝒆𝒏 - 𝒔𝒏𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒅 𝒊𝒏

Remus Lupin x reader day eighteen of christmas advent calendar words; not a lot again (#shortficqueen) warnings; none ;)

The sky was darkened with white clouds when Y/n’s eyes fluttered open and she groaned tiredly. The last thing she wanted to do was wake and have to leave the warmth of her husband. Remus had his scarred arms wrapped around her waist, reveling in her softness.

Y/n kissed his forehead gently and carefully wiggled from his grip, allowing him to sleep on his rare day off. Y/n, in her stupor, failed to notice that the darkness outside her window was not clouds preparing for a storm, rather it was built up snow.

She stumbled out into the kitchen and put a kettle onto the stove, turning the heat onto high. She stood there, trying to shake the sleep from her eyes. The sound of the loud whistling broke her out of her trance and she quickly took the kettle off, hoping she hadn’t woken her husband.

As she made her tea, she carelessly glanced towards the window and something caught her eye. She did a double take to find something covering the window. Y/n furrowed her brows and walked over to the front door, throwing on her coat and twisting the cold knob. The door wouldn’t open. She threw her weight against it but it just wouldn’t budge.

“It seems as if we are snowed in.” A groggy voice said from behind her and she turned around.

“Oh no, did I wake you?” She asked and Remus nodded with a smile, motioning towards the tea kettle. “I’m sorry.”

He stepped towards her and pulled her body flush against his, “It’s alright, love.” He said quietly and kissed her softly. “You can’t go to work if you can’t get out.”

Y/n laughed in his arms, “You would be correct. I’ll have to make a call, tell them there’s nothing I can do.”

“I’m glad you work with muggles.” Remus smiled and Y/n nodded.

“Me too.”

Remus kissed his wife’s cheek, “Shall we go back to bed?”

“Please.”

When the couple awoke for a second time, they were much more energized. They threw on their snow gear and apparated outside, laughing at the top of their house popping out of the snow.

“At this rate, you won’t be going to work until March.” Remus laughed.

“Good, that job is insufferable.”

Remus plopped onto the snow and began to make a snow angel.

“Come make a snow angel with me, angel.” He said and Y/n obliged, laying down close enough so it looked like their angels were holding hands, their love forever engraved into the cold of winter.

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christmas taglist; @loving-and-dreaming @1lellykins @poetrypirate @ashisabitgay @kodiskisses @whitemanswh0r3 @ultraoreoqueen @miss-mercuryy @peanutbutterinacup @r-scneptune @pheonixfucu @luannemaru @jluvsjpotts @its-a-ittle-bit-cold @maraudersgirlie @thescarletredwitch @irjdujsksjahhbs @irjdujsksjahhbs @1-800-ididurmum @jennasco @myradiaz @chellyrps @lixiefelicis @ittybittyhogan @lollloki @dreamingofmarauders @everybodyhatesari @agy-mari @wayytoocooll @notaboutlovebyfiona @harrington-potter @little-bubba @whoreforlupin @jdoshalablab-blog @mybelovedneilperry @bellathethirstybitch @poetrynerdsunite @talesof-old @remussbitch @keira-fitzsimmons @peopleisdumbs-blog @dunaahahah @starsshinebluewhite @lizzieolseniskinda @fast-slow-disco @bubblegumanatomy @sparkling-ariaria @blooberry-bagel @whiskeywineimfine @fluidfandoms @lyrahelmand @reaa88 @mysteriouslydeliciousmoon @randomchicksstuff @loca4moony @lynnleanist @alliacnh-blog @bullets-from-another-dimension @sususdiaryy @imafckingbitch

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pretty-little-mind33 · 5 months

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Wildest Dreams

James Potter x fem!reader

Summary: Finding out that your ex-best friend might have smelt you in the Amortentia feels as surreal as you smelling him.

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: harassment, non-consensual touching (non-sexual), insecurities

When you hear the door to the classroom swing open, slam into the wall, and as if on cue a chorus of laughs resound around the room, you know it's James and his imbecile friends.

Your lips thin into a tight-lipped smile as you send Marlene an exhausted look.

"Gentlemen," Slughorn drones on as he turns to look at the boys, who comedically trip over themselves to find their spots in the crowd of students, "You're late."

"Evidently, Professor." Sirius Black quips and nudges his shoulder into James. The latter smirks.

James has somehow found his way next to you. He hasn't done it on purpose but when he turns his head and sees you beside him, his smirk turns into a wide smile.

A smile that never fails to make your knees shake and your heart feel like it could explode.

"Y/n," James whispers.

"Hi Potter," you roll your eyes, hiding a smile behind faux frustration.

You and James aren't friends. Well, unless you counted the years from ages four to eleven, when you had been inseparable. You'd grown apart these last years and while you'd cried over your lost friendship in first year, you had decided it was for the best to distance yourself from him anyway.

Having a crush on your best friend is incredibly cliché.

Still, although you weren't friends in the same way as you had been, James has always been kind to you.

He says hello to you when he sees you in the hallway. You have had pleasant conversations in passing, and when his family occasionally has yours over – for old times sake – you both sit on the balcony outside his window and talk as if nothing has changed.

You shift away from James a little, feeling too close to him, and cross your arms. You turn your attention to Slughorn as he clears his throat and lifts the lid from the pot, "Very well then,"

His sentence is drowned out by the soft, delicate smell that fills the room. You pin-point the scent of broom-polish immediately. Rosemary, vanilla, bergamot and cedar. Your expression falls. Bergamot and cedar. Your head spins and you wonder if James put on too much cologne this morning or if —

Your mind suddenly goes completely blank when you feel James's breath against your ear, uttering exactly what you had been wondering, but this time about you, "Hey, did you put on more perfume than usual? I can smell it from here," his voice is teasing and you feel just a little fainter than you already had been.

"Amortentia," Slughorn interrupts, "The most powerful love potion to exist. It smells differently to everyone, depending on what attracts them — or sometimes who attracts them," He continues on, explaining the dangers of the potion, but you aren't listening anymore.

You look up. James has gone quiet and he's staring at the bubbling liquid, a vacant look in his eyes. Your heart clenches and you turn your head, inclining it down. You must have heard him wrong. James must have been confused.

A pit forms in your stomach when James moves away from you, leaving your side feeling empty. You hear him laugh with Remus and your hand squeezes around your arms.

You hadn't worn any perfume this morning.

"Hey, Y/n/n," You're pulled from your thoughts when William, another Gryffindor, comes up from behind you and shoves into your shoulder so he's standing next to you.

"I knew I'd smell someone as hot as you in there," He teases, leaning in close. "Just like fucking vanilla," Williams brings his hand into your hair, twirling some strands in his fingers as he presses his nose close to your temple and inhales.

"Hey," You move your head away, feeling disgusted. William just barks out a laugh and his arm extends to grab yours. Suddenly, you're almost pushed to the side when James stands in front of you and shoves William away. The boy bumps into the cauldron and the Amortentia spills all over the floor.

"All three of you," Slughorn suddenly booms, his cheeks flushed crimson, "McGonagall. Now."

So you find yourself standing in the middle of James and William in McGonagall's office. The older woman is sitting at her desk, her arms crossed as she stares at you all from behind her small glasses. She looks at William first considering his shirt is drenched in the thick liquid from the Amortentia, "What happened?"

"Potter shoved me," Williams states quickly, glaring at James.

"And I'd do it again," James snarls, crossing his arms.

McGonagall looks utterly exhausted at their bickering and turns her attention to you. "What about you, Miss Y/l/n, care to explain what happened?"

William sends you a dark look, but when you look at James his expression is soft. "William made me uncomfortable in class and when James saw, he accidentally shoved him into the Amortentia and it spilled all over."

"It wasn't an accident! He did it on purpose!" William argues like a child and James sends him a knowing smirk.

"Oh yeah, the shove was intentional," he grins wolfishly, "Although, I didn't mean to knock the potion over, Minnie," James looks over at McGonagall and this time he looks a little sheepish. McGonagall just stares at him as if he has gone insane and then she looks at you.

"You can leave, Miss Y/l/n," she says and looks back at the boys and hums, "You two may not."

You glance at James a little nervously but he sends you a reassuring smile. So, you ignore William's loud complaining and thank McGonagall as you walk out of her classroom.

* * *

A few hours later, when you're walking out of the Great Hall after dinner, you and your friends run into James again. He's also with his friends, leaning against the wall, and they're laughing obnoxiously loud.

However, when James sees you his smile widens. "Ladies," he says, crossing his arms cheekily.

"Gentlemen," your lips curl into a smirk as you nod at Sirius, Remus, and Peter. James tilts his head at his friends, his expression quirking almost as if he's annoyed that you mentioned them and not him.

"You feeling okay?" James asks.

You stare at him, trying to understand exactly what he means.

Does he really care or is he only asking because he's in trouble because of you. Is it mocking?

You start to overthink and James can sense it. So, he moves a little closer to you and you can smell his cologne. It sends heat creeping up your neck.

He asks again. "After what happened with William," he whispers, "when he made you uncomfortable. Are you okay?" James looks genuine and you see his hand hesitating to touch your arm.

You look up at him, staring into his eyes, "O-Oh, yeah. I'm fine. I was just - I didn't think anyone would have smelt me in that potion," you laugh, rambling because that's what you do when you're nervous. You can see James's expression shift into a small smile.

"You'd be surprised," he says, rubbing his nape, "Hey, can we talk in private? I wanted to ask you something?"

Once you say yes, you find yourself in a small, empty, classroom with James. You lean against a desk, hand gripping the edge as you stare at him. "What's up?" you ask. James has never asked you to talk like this.

"My mum is having one of her family dinners for Christmas," James starts, "I wanted to invite you, personally," he adds, as if he's been rehearsing.

Usually, his mother will invite yours and then by proxy you'll show up. But, this is different. "You want me to come?" your eyebrow raises in confusion, "Personally?"

"Yeah," he sounds unsure, "I mean we're friends, right?"

Is that what we are, you want to ask him but you don't. "I didn't think we were friends anymore," You say honestly and James's expression falls.

He fiddles with his hands nervously but walks closer until he's directly in front of you. You lean away from him and into the desk, chin tilted up to look at him.

"I'm an idiot," he whispers, looking at you intensely, "I shouldn't have let you slip out of my hands like that. I, well, miss you, a lot."

You listen to him with harsh breaths, trying to understand where this all comes from and why now.

James's hand reaches out and hovers over your cheeks until he holds you and brings you closer to his face. Your eyes round. You're so sure he'll kiss you with how close you are and by the way he's looking at you. You don't have time to make up your mind if you'd want to kiss him or not, because instead, he guides your cheek to his chest and his arms wrap around you.

He crushes you into a hug.

Your breath escapes you in a sigh, "James?"

"Y/n," he says your name smoothly and soothes a hand down your hair, "You smell like vanilla and cinnamon. With just a hint of freshly-mowed grass, probably because whenever I see you after a Quidditch match you always have some grass in your hair, right here," James says in a whisper and his finger traces behind your ear.

"Usually from a small tumble," he adds, "You're so clumsy sometimes."

You pull away only to have him hold you closer.

"I can't keep pretending I don't think about you," he admits and that sends all emotions crashing over you. You stare at him, lips parted and eyebrows creased, as you try and understand the meaning behind the words. "I smelt you in the Amortentia," James admits.

"You smelt me? You're joking."

James suddenly frowns and he watches as you practically try and sink into the desk behind you. He can take a hint and he moves away. "What? No?"

You feel your cheeks burn hot with embarrassment. "You aren't joking?"

James's face softens and he smiles. "Of course I'm not – I smelt you and also your perfume which," his smile turns into a smirk, "I can tell you aren't wearing right now." James chuckles happily, his eyes crinkling in the corners and your heart flutters. "Merlin I gave myself away in that classroom, didn't I, love?"

Your insides become mush at the nickname and you find yourself nodding.

James looks at you fondly even when he says, "I understand if you don't feel the same. If I'm not the boy you like or a boy you want. I have been a foolish ass for the majority of our time here at school. I've ignored you and worse than that, I let myself forget how lucky I was to have you as my friend and I'm so sorry."

As you hear his words, you can feel tears brim in your eyes. James's fond smile disappears and he starts to panic. "Hey, hey, hey!" his hands cup around your cheeks without even thinking. "I don't want to make you cry, love. Y-you're okay," he promises frantically.

James is so close. His cologne has invaded your senses until you can't think clearly. All you can do is lean in closer until your nose brushes his. James is surprised but when he looks into your eyes, his body relaxes as he understands what you want. You like to think it's all the years you were friends that makes it so easy for James to understand.

"You want me to kiss you?" he whispers, his voice husky and low.

You feel warm all over as his arm slides behind you and he holds your lower back, waiting for a yes so he can pull you closer. You nod, smiling. You wonder if I have to tell him he's the one you smelled in the potion or if he'll understand by the way you kiss him.

James's lips press onto yours. He's testing the waters, making sure he's not moving too quickly or too slowly. You let your hand find his hair as you pull him closer. James's hand wraps around you and in the passion, he hoists you up onto the desk behind you and you pull him in.

You kiss him like you've never kissed anyone and it takes your hand on his chest to snap James back into reality. He gently disconnects your lips and leans his forehead on yours.

His eyes are still closed when he says, "Shh, we have all the time in the world. I don't plan on letting you slip away from me again, Y/n," he says it like a promise. Like a prayer.

Finally, you speak, "James. I missed you," you admit in a whisper.

James holds you closer. "I missed you more. You don't know how much you mean to me."

You laugh, feeling how close he is and how badly he doesn't want to drop your hand. "I think I can guess," you say teasingly.

James shakes his head. "My love goes beyond any words I could possibly muster."

You stare at him with a raised eyebrow. "Since when is James Potter such a hopeless romantic?"

James grins, his hand sliding down to your thigh as he draws soothing circles on your skin, "He's always been a romantic, darling. He just hasn't had the chance to show you," he whispers and quickly kisses the tip of your nose.

"Well, he can start now," you smile.

James nuzzles his nose into your shoulder. "So, does this mean that we're friends again?"

You pull away and send him a playful look. "Can this mean we're more than friends now?"

James looks into your eyes and deep in his brown ones, you can see his sincerity, "We'll be whatever you want, love," he says. He hugs you close and your face is buried in his neck. You sniff, your smile widening.

You whisper into his neck, "Bergamot and cedar."

James chuckles, still holding you, "What was that, love?"

"Nothing," you smile, simply content with holding him.

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