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#hockey!james potter
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.
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vxntagedior · 1 year
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Thoughts on hockey James
all day everyday!
him teaching his gf how to skate
or ice-skater!gf and he just obsesses over her
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ameliora-j · 6 months
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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.
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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
Text
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
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“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,”
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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
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maraudersmyloves · 1 month
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Hockey player James who sees you in the stands and immediately acts as if he'd die if he lost this game. You're sitting there smiling, in his team's jersey, and send him a small wave (which he obviously returns) that causes all the air to leave his chest. He always does his best but this time he's on fire and he knows it's because of you. He lands another goal and the chanting of his name and loud yelling puts pressure on his ears but all he cares about is that you're watching him right now.
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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
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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.
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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."
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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?"
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where-is-vivian · 10 days
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the fine man that he is
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inspired by a picture of wonho (of course)
@/wherearethevampires (instagram)
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ddejavvu · 1 year
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hockey!au James Potter fucking you, the coach’s daughter literally minutes before a game. Coach freaking out wonder where his star player is only to have him eventually burst in with a shit grin on his face and more enthusiasm than ever because you promised him second and maybe even third helpings if he wins. Meanwhile coach is just happy his team is doing so good and his daughter actually shows up for games.
today is multiverse monday! send me any au you can think of :)
--
"Evening, lads," James bursts through the door of the locker room sounding more like a coach than a player, "Ready to beat their asses?"
"Potter," The coach huffs, a sigh of relief reverberating around the room that's shared by his team members, "Where have you been? Game starts in two minutes."
"I was takin' a shit," James fibs, stuffing his shoulder pads over his frame and wrestling with their ties, "My mum always said if you have to go..."
"Bullshit," Sirius uses his shin to knock into James instead of kicking him, seeing as his skate would slice the boy up, "I checked the bathrooms."
"Well y'didn't check the one I was in," James grins, "Trust me, you'd have known, I was loud."
Remus's nose wrinkles at the boy's unwanted level of detail, turning away and leaving Sirius to help James rush into his jersey. He takes a fistful of the material, bunching it in his glove and yanking James forwards. He watches the coach over the boy's shoulder, then glares at James, "Spill. Where were you really?"
"Girl's bathroom," James clarifies, "Coach's daughter says I can go another round if we win, two more if I score three times."
"Hat trick," Sirius snorts, releasing his hold on James's jersey to clap him on the back, ushering him towards the door where the others are waiting in a line, "What do I get if I score three times?"
"A bunch'a hats, I suppose." James reasons, and Sirius lunges for him to push him out on the ice, the crowd roaring as the two playfully shove at each other, "Only I get a slap shot from the blue line, mate."
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fourmoony · 9 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
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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.
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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.
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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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lumosinlove · 8 months
Text
Vaincre
May part five
cw: mentions of injury & recovery (nothing graphic)
Thanks for waiting y'all! It means so much that you stick with me. I'm gonna do smaller sections so I can post more frequently. Expect the next part up in a couple of days. All the love!! <3
The hospital lights were bright.
Alex didn’t like to remember that about them, but he looked down at his own pale thighs in his shorts and watched how the lights traced out every single blue vein. It made him feel more vulnerable than he cared for at that moment. He didn’t want to think about Finn laid out under a machine, waiting to hear how long it might take him to heal. That was the thing with heads. Bones had an end date: Six weeks, maybe four. Heads, however, came with mights. Might be a few months. Might be more.
Their dad was trying to get their mom to sit down, to rest. She looked just as pale in this awful light. Tear tracks on her cheeks, hand on her chest as if she could press her heart into calmness. They all—all three of them, Finn, Alex, their dad—had always hated it when she cried.
Kasey, asleep beside him in the chair now, had handed him this cup of coffee at some point. His was holding himself stiffly in sleep. Alex could tell he was in some sort of pain. Maybe from the game.
Alex wasn’t sure how long he had been holding the coffee, only that his fingers were numb from leeching the burning heat out of the flimsy cardboard. He reached out and settled careful fingers over Kasey’s old injury, wishing he could leech the pain away, too. Natalie was on the phone down the hall—maybe with Celeste Dumais. Or Lily Potter.
Logan and Leo. He didn’t see them in the waiting room.
Alex set the coffee down beneath his chair and turned to stroke a hand through Kasey’s hair. Brown eyes opened to him, tired but trying not to be.
“Did I fall asleep?” Kasey asked.
“Just for a minute.” Alex pressed a kiss to his temple. “Be right back.”
“Want me to come?” Kasey cleared his throat. He made the chair looks so small, and Alex caught the twinge of pain in his face when he moved his legs.
“No, I’m just—no, it’s okay.” He looked back towards Natalie. “You two should get home. I hope I won’t be too much longer.”
“Alex.” Kasey rubbed at his eyes then sat forward. “If you think we’re going anywhere right now, you’re an absolute insane person.”
“Seconded.”
They both looked up at Natalie, walking towards them and sliding her phone into her back pocket.
“Celeste?” Kasey asked.
“It was Sirius actually,” Natalie said. “Checking in. This is not the time, nor the place, but that man sounds extremely sexy on the phone.”
Alex cracked the barest of a smile. He stood, suddenly feeling like it would burn him through and through if he stayed still for one more second. “Does he now?”
Natalie just kissed his cheek. “Not nearly as good as you. Only, I prefer hearing your voice face to face.”
“IRL?” Alex asked. He pushed his hands in his pockets and tried to figure out how to stop his throat from closing up when he caught another glimpse of his mom’s face.
“No one says IRL,” Natalie said softly, but her eyes were flicking all over his face. “Alex—”
“I’m gonna go check on him,” Alex said, and turned away fast before she could see anything else he didn’t want her to.
The hospital lights remained just as bright down the hallway and—oh. There they were. Leo was sitting on a chair outside of Finn’s room. Logan was leaning against the opposite wall, glaring at the shut door like he could open it with his gaze alone.
“Hey,” Leo stood when he caught sight of him. He looked tired, shoulders slumped down. “Sorry, we just…” Leo sent a glance at Logan, who hadn’t moved. Hadn’t so much as blinked. “We’re feeling like the waiting room’s a little too far away right now, so…”
“Isn’t that cute,” Alex said and that got him a darting glare from Logan. Alex smiled tightly at Leo, resting a hand on his shoulder. “You guys okay? Need anything?”
“To get inside,” Logan grumbled pointedly, just as the door opened and the doctor slipped through. Logan stood straight, every muscle in him straining forward as the doctor shut the door again. She turned and her eyes hesitated on Alex.
“You’re twins?” she asked.
“Brothers,” Alex said faintly.
“Ah. Well, you can go in and see him now.” She smiled sympathetically and began walking down the hallway towards the waiting room. “He’s a talker, that one, isn’t he?”
Alex felt something that he thought was relief flood through him. He heard Leo let out a breath.
“Yeah,” Leo said. “Yeah, he is.”
Logan pushed off of the wall, and Alex barely got a hand on his chest to stop him before his hand was on the doorknob.
“Alex,” Logan said, hovering between demanding and questioning.
“Listen,” Alex said. “I know you…I know it’s…” Alex shut his eyes. They were so dry from the air that it hurt. “Can I just have a second with him? Please.”
Logan looked like he was going to protest. The look in his eyes was almost anger, or maybe frustration, but Leo stepped forward.
“Of course,” he said, and took Logan’s hand, pulling him a step back. “Of course you can. We’ll wait.”
Alex looked at him. Blue eyes. Leo hadn’t been there for so much of it, of Finn’s hurt and Logan’s ache, but he seemed to understand somehow. Alex felt a sort of kinship to him in that way. Somehow, despite the odds, both of them had become the missing halves to, not one, but two people who had already made a whole.
“Thank you,” Alex said softly, then looked at Logan. “Tremz, thanks. Really.”
Logan still didn’t look happy about it, but he nodded. He covered Leo’s hand entirely with both of his own.
No more bright lights. Not in this room. There was a soft, unobtrusive light for the doctors to see by, but that was all.
“Doesn’t it remind you of the kind that line the aisles on airplanes?” Finn’s voice said from the bed. “You know? The emergency ones.”
Alex nodded. “Mhm.”
“It’s you, Al, right?”
“Mhm,” Alex said.
“Hm,” Finn said. “Quite the game, Hazard.”
“Hazard,” Jack began to say in the locker room. He looked wrecked after the game.
Alex shook his head. “Don’t talk to me.”
Jack walked forward, at least he tried to. Will stopped him with a hand on his chest. It wasn’t aggressive. That wasn’t Will’s way. Will gave a small shake of his head, but Jack kept talking.
“It was an accident. I—okay, but I didn’t mean to hit him that hard. I thought he’d brace himself, he saw me coming—”
“I said don’t talk to me.” Alex said, then he shouldered past Logan and stepped up until all that separated him and Jack was Will’s palm. “For as long as you’re here, and I don’t think that will be for much longer, don’t talk to me.”
Jack’s eyes were wide, and for all his skill, he looked about twelve years old in that moment. With the sneer that crossed his face, a short disbelieving smile.
“We…” Jack shook his head. “But we won the game.”
It took everything in Alex to not hurt him, and most of Logan’s strength, too, when he got his arms around Alex’s, pinning them down before he could raise his fist any higher. Jack still flinched. At least Jack still flinched.
“We shouldn’t,” Logan breathed shakily, mouth close to Alex’s ear. “Alex. Alex, we shouldn’t.”
Alex cursed and shook Logan and Will off.
“We won the game,” Alex parroted under his breath, and then slammed a hand against his stall. “Get the fuck out of my sight, Archer.”
Finn didn’t look horrible, which was good. He looked more relaxed than Alex had anticipated. Aside from the sling, he would have looked almost normal. He had one knee bent, foot planted on the hospital bed. He had the hood of his sweatshirt up—Rangers blue—and after a moment of thinking of Logan, Alex realized it was his own.
Finn caught him looking and plucked at it with his good hand. “Think it’s bad luck? Mom brought it to me.”
Alex, just looked at him. It was the hood up maybe, mussing his hair. Or the socked feet. Or the tiredness all over his face. Something was making Finn look younger than he really was, something was making Alex feel like he was looking at his kid brother again, leaving Finn at home for the NHL. Getting this call.
Finn’s mouth pulled to the side and he smoothed the logo. “I don’t think it is. I like it.”
Those short sentences he’d been saying since he was eight. So sure of himself. The pizza on Prince street is better. That girl smiled at me. She likes me. So damn sure of everything. Logan had been the first to shake him out of the habit. Maybe Alex was a little angry with him about that, or at least he had been at one time.
Alex nodded. He walked forward to stand at the edge of Finn’s bed. There was a chair there but he didn’t sit. He reached out and tugged the hood more firmly over Finn’s hair, making him laugh.
“I’m good, Al,” Finn said. “Really.”
Alex didn’t reply. He just sat on the edge of the bed and waited half a second for Finn to get the message before laying down. He hugging his little brother as hard as he dared. He felt Finn push into his hold, the same way he had at five when having a nightmare, at fourteen when Alex was leaving, at nineteen when everything seemed wrong, and everything seemed right, but Alex just couldn’t figure out what.
“Al,” Finn said. It was an awkward position, but he managed to get his good arm around Alex’s back. “Al, I’m fine, I promise. Even the doctor said—”
“Just let me,” Alex whispered hoarsely. “Just be quiet and let me fucking worry about you.”
Finn melted a little more against him. “Okay. All right.”
Alex couldn’t help the hitching sob that he let out against Finn’s shoulder, and he felt Finn’s fingers curl in his hair.
“It’s okay,” Finn whispered. “It’s okay…”
“You can’t do that to me,” Alex managed, fisting the sweatshirt against Finn’s back. “You can’t do that to me, you can’t…”
“I know, I know,” Finn said softly. “Al, I’m sorry. I love you, I’m sorry.”
“No, don’t apologize.” Alex sniffed and pressed a hard kiss to Finn’s temple. “You’re just like—you just didn’t move. And you’re my…”
“Al…” Finn turned on his a little more onto his good side so that his hand beneath Alex could pat at his back. Alex was probably crushing it but he didn’t care just then. “You’re gonna make me cry.”
“You’re my baby brother and I love you so much,” Alex said. “And I can’t protect you from anything.”
And maybe that was it. Harvard, Logan, hockey. If only they had talked about it.
“Stop,” Finn said when Alex turned his face into his sweatshirt. “Stop, yes you can. You always do.”
Alex made a sound that made them both laugh wetly.
“Were there words in there?” Finn asked.
“Not really.” The door opened, a quiet snick of a sound, and Alex whispered to Finn, “Thought Tremz was gonna kill me for keeping him—”
“Oh, my boys,” their mother’s voice said softly. Not Logan and Leo then. “Rams, honey, shut out that hallway light.”
The door closed again and Alex looked up in time to see his mom stroke a hand down Finn’s cheek.
“How are you, baby?”
Finn, his good hand trapped under Alex, just leaned into her palm. “I’m okay, mom. I promise.”
Haley just narrowed her eyes skeptically. “You’d say you were okay if there was an astroid hurdling towards you.” She turned to Alex, petting a hand through his hair. “Are you okay? My slightly older baby.”
Alex just kept his face half-hidden in Finn’s sweatshirt, glad for the dim light.
“We’ll be okay soon,” Finn said for him. “How’s that?”
“I guess good enough,” Ramsey said, and walked forward and put a hand on Finn’s knee. “Your boys are outside. Logan looks like he’s about to turn into the Hulk.”
“Aw shucks,” Finn smiled.
“Probably because he knows I’m in his spot,” Alex managed, and his mother gave him a knowing look at the sound of recently shed tears in his voice. Alex pushed himself up and looked down at Finn.
“My hand's asleep from your big butt,” Finn said.
Alex rolled his eyes, wiped at his cheeks, and stood.
“The doc just doesn’t want too many people in here,” Haley said. “We promised we’d take turns. Now, I’m gonna get you some water—or maybe something to eat?” She looked at Alex. “Honey, Nat and Kasey are in the waiting room, they said—”
“I… What? I told them they could go home,” Alex said.
Finn snorted, then groaned a little, closing his eyes. “As if they’d go anywhere without you.”
“Especially tonight,” Haley said, petting a hand through Finn’s hair again. “You’re burning up, baby.”
Alex looked towards the door, frowning. “Still. I said it was all right.”
“It’s always like this,” Finn said to his mom, then opened his eyes and looked at Alex. “Maybe they could see that it wasn’t all right.”
“It is,” Alex said. “They’re probably tired.”
“They know you need them right now.”
Haley looked between them for a moment. Alex met her eyes. He watched them drop to his chest and looked down to see that he was fiddling with Kasey’s diamond.
“You’re okay,” Alex said. He wiped at his face. “We’re fine. I’m fine.”
“Leo sees right through me all the time,” Finn said. “Think of it like that.”
“Well.” Haley sighed. “Why don’t I send him right in here, then,” She rose from the bed and put her arms around Alex. “So he can see through your okays just like you’re seeing through your brother’s.”
~
Logan was in the past, Leo could see it all over his face. There was no part of him actually in the hallway right then. He was back in the limbo that he and Finn went to sometimes. The spaces in between the hurt and the healing. The memories and the moments. All Leo could do was lean against the wall next to him and watch his face as they both listened to the faint murmurs of the O’Hara’s voices.
“He’s doing fine, sweetheart,” Leo said. “He’s just got his family in there, that’s all.”
“We’re his family.”
“Lo.”
“I know. Sorry.” Logan turned, pushing off the wall. He settled his hands under Leo’s sweatshirt on his hips. He tilted his head up to press a kiss to the underside of his jaw. “I’m just…”
Leo took Logan’s face in his hands, admiring the way his cheeks filled his palms. “Me too.”
“I’m glad we can be like this,” Logan whispered. “Here. Now. Under these stupid bright lights.”
Leo pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Yeah. I don’t know what I’d do if I couldn’t hold you like this right now.” He looked over Logan’s head at the closed door. “I want to hold him right now.”
Logan closed his eyes and Leo couldn’t help but kiss his forehead again. His eyelids, then his nose. He pictured an eighteen year old Logan in a hospital like this one, waiting in the hallway. You’re his teammate? Family only for now, honey.
“Lo?”
Logan looked up at him.
“What was it like? The first time.”
Logan sighed and Leo moved his palms down to settle around his waist. “It’s…”
Logan blinked, and Leo watched him go to the past again. Far away. He tensed in his hold. Leo hated it, he hated everything about that look on Logan’s face, but he wanted to know. He needed to know. It had been so long since he felt behind the two of them. A strange feeling, left behind in the present while they went back to the past.
“Lo,” Leo whispered. “Please. I need to know—”
The door clicked open and Haley appeared first, turned back towards the bed and blowing a kiss with her hand. “We’ll see you tomorrow, baby, okay? Please rest.”
Leo had thought Finn would be asleep. Or groggy. Too exhausted to speak in something above a whisper. The sheer weight of worry on his back broke when he heard Finn’s laugh from inside the room. He felt Logan sway against him.
“Okay, Mom,” Finn’s voice came. “I love you guys.”
Haley turned and, even though she looked like she had been crying, she took in Leo and Logan, wrapped up together, and smiled. “He’s dying to see you two.”
~
“Usually its you who finds me down here.”
Remus stopped hard on his skates near the center of the synthetic ice, sweat shining in the  dim basement lights. Sirius had thought he was coming to bed. He had sat upstairs until he realized that there were no more sounds coming from the kitchen. Regulus was in his room. All that was left was the rink downstairs.
Sirius looked down, letting Remus take his time. Remus’ phone was on the edge of the boards. There was a video lighting up the screen. A press conference. Jack Archer. Sirius didn’t need to hit play. He’d seen it, but he hadn’t even needed to do that. They’d all heard him begging Leo in the hallway. It was an accident. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I thought he’d brace himself. It’s hockey—
“Whatever it was,” Remus said. “There was purpose behind it. That’s what I think.”
Sirius looked up. Remus had silently made his way over. He was wearing one of Sirius’ sweatshirts, thumb poking through a hole in one of the sleeves. He spun his stick before letting it drop to the ground with a clatter.
“Sounds like Leo does, too,” Remus said. “At least there are no secrets that need keeping this time. Not like it was with…”
Fenrir.
“Re,” Sirius said softly.
“It’s not about me,” Remus said. He pushed himself over the boards, one leg, then the other, but before he could touch the ground Sirius stepped between his dangling skates. He settled his hands on Remus’ hips to keep him in place.
Remus had his eyes on Sirius’ sweatshirt. It was from their Cup day. Rainbow taped sticks crossed over the Cup’s silhouette. “We should go to bed, we have a flight tomorrow. We have a game.”
“Not until you look at me,” Sirius said.
Remus widened his eyes, honey-colored in this light, and looked right at Sirius. “I am looking at you.”
“Re,” Sirius said.
Slowly, Remus’ face relaxed and he let his forehead drop forward onto Sirius’ shoulder.
“We lost.”
“We’re tied.” Sirius kissed Remus’ neck, then knelt in front of him. He set one skate on his thigh and began to undo the laces. “And you need to rest. We need you out there.”
Remus watched his hands work. He got through one skate and pulled it off gently, taking a moment to rub the arch of Remus’ foot, to dig his thumb around his ankle bones.
“Remember you doing this with my injury,” Sirius said. He drew off the tight compression sock and rubbed over the red lines it left behind in Remus’ skin. “I used to dream about it. About your hands.”
Remus’ smile was small. “Used to?”
Sirius reached forward and took one of Remus’ palms to kiss. “Don’t have to dream about it anymore, do I?”
He took to the other skate. Loosening the laces, easing it off.
“Did you hear anything more with Finn?” Remus asked. “Or Leo?”
“He’s doing okay, I talked to Natalie,” Sirius said. “And Leo…” I didn’t expect you to be happy. Sirius had only known one true love in his life, but he knew a troubled love when he saw one, easily. Jack was that. He and James had shared a look in the locker room. Should I go say we can hear them? Sirius had silently asked. James had shaken his head, meaning, I think that might make it worse.
“Sometimes, I wish it was just about the game,” Remus said softly when he was barefoot. “But it feels like so much more than that.”
Sirius rose and let Remus wrap his arms around his neck so he could ease him down from the boards. Remus locked their fingers together as they walked up the stairs.
“Would the game be the game if there wasn’t more to it than a ball and a stick?” Sirius shrugged. “I don’t think so.”
“I’ve been thinking about Kasey,” Remus said.
Sirius nodded. “Keep wondering when he’s going to tell the team.”
“Do you think about it?” Remus asked hesitantly. “What you would do…after?”
Sirius had never liked that word. After. He used to question its existence. His father had not settled into a good after. Retirement was never a word he used. There was always work to be done, always someone else who had wronged him, always another step to take.
Then again, his father had never gotten exactly what he wanted. Not in his career. Maybe in his wife, but Sirius would never know for sure. Not in his sons. Not in his legacy.
“I used to not be able to think about it,” Sirius said. They entered the kitchen and he went to the refrigerator to fill up a cup of water from the filter. “I thought my life would end.”
He slid the glass over to Remus and leaned against the counter beside him.
“Watching Finn go down, I thought about it,” Sirius said. “I mean, everyone thinks about it. It can be over in a second. All of it.” Sirius rubbed a thumb over Remus’ cheek. “I know I don’t have to tell you that.”
“It’s okay,” Remus said. He took a greedy drink, then smiled a little sheepishly, like he hadn’t realized how hard he had been skating.
“It used to terrify me.” Sirius smiled a little. “I wanted to play hockey forever, which I can’t do. I liked boys, who I couldn’t have. James was always going to have a family, and I would never be entirely a part of it. And James sometimes felt like the only thing I had, in the beginning days. Re, he and Lils…they took me on so many dates.”
Remus laughed and wrapped his arms around Sirius’ neck. “I remember. We could have been friends earlier, you know. If someone had been a little more…”
Sirius smiled into his kiss. “I was such an ass to you in the beginning.”
“Oh, I remember that, too.” Remus put on what, according to Thomas, was a perfect imitation of his frown, and gave a slightly French lilt to his words. “Oh, you’re an intern? Well, I’ll go to Moody then, but thanks.”
Sirius groaned and dropped his head to Remus’ shoulder. “Don’t remind me.”
Remus just laughed again and pressed a quick burst of kisses to his cheek. He shuffled closer until his bare feet were on top of Sirius’ socked ones. “It’s okay. You’ve done a pretty good job making up for it.”
Sirius rubbed a hand up and down his back slowly and felt Remus settle more against him. They were both tired, eyes closing, swaying in the kitchen.
“Don’t worry about Jack. Don’t watch that interview anymore, mon loup,” Sirius whispered. “Finn’s going to be okay.”
“Hm,” Remus said, then stepped back and took Sirius’ hands, pulling him towards the stairs. “Well. We’ll just have to kick their asses tomorrow night. Game five, baby. We’re two-two.”
Sirius let Remus lead him up to bed. He let Remus sink into his side as they brushed their teeth, and then spoon up against his back once they were under the covers. If this was what after looked like, part of him couldn’t wait.
~
Finn was sitting up. He pushed the hood of his sweatshirt back when he saw them and smiled. His red hair was soft and falling over his forehead, still sweaty from the game. Leo wanted to cry.
“Boys,” Finn sighed and patted the small space beside him on the bed with his good arm. “Don’t look at me like that. Come here.”
Logan all but collapsed at Finn’s side and Finn’s arm wound around him. Logan took Finn’s chin gently between his thumb and forefinger to steady his face. It looked like he was soaking in as much of that sweet brown color as he could. He was looking for the hurt.
“Don’t lie to me,” Logan whispered as Leo shut the door.
Finn stuck his tongue out until the tip of it touched Logan’s nose, then smiled. Logan didn’t pull away, didn’t even flinch and Finn did it again. Finn looked up at Leo, who was still standing by the door. “Le.”
Leo worried the inside of his lip. “I’ll hurt your shoulder on that side.”
Finn tapped his foot on the end of the bed, then spread his knees. It was a tight fit, but Leo managed to fold himself at the end of the bed. He took Finn’s legs and draped them around his hips, rubbing his thighs.
“Very sexy for a hospital,” Finn said. “Sexy thigh rubbing."
“How are you feeling?” Leo asked. Logan pushed his face into Finn’s neck and Leo and Finn smiled at each other. Finn closed his eyes at the feeling of Logan against him. “You’re guard dog missed you.”
“Don’t lie,” Logan mumbled.
Finn drummed his fingers over Logan’s spine. “Has a single lie come out of my mouth, baby?”
“No,” Leo said. “But we know you. The doctor said you were pretty…”
Finn raised an eyebrow. “She said I was pretty? Damn, she was pretty, too.”
Leo rolled his eyes, but secretly his chest was squeezing with relief. He hadn’t expected this Finn. Joking. He didn’t know if it was normal or because he was putting all of himself into masking the pain he was in.
“Pretty okay,” Leo pinched at his knee. “Is what I was going to say.”
“I am,” Finn said. “I mean, I know I’m on pain killers right now.”
“Yeah, you just licked Logan.”
Finn smiled and looked down until Logan peered out for a kiss. “He likes it. Don’t you, Lolo?”
Logan touched Finn’s fingers where they were poking out of his sling. “Does it hurt though?”
Finn sighed. “Yeah, of course it does. But it will be worse later so I’m hoping to enjoy right now when I don’t feel like my skull is going to fall apart.”
“Don’t say that.” Logan put his fingers to Finn’s lips.
Finn just kissed them. “Haven’t been in a bed this small in a while, hm, Lo?”
Logan’s brow creased. “Non…”
Leo watched them kiss, and he could see it. Harvard. Middle of the night. A terrified Logan, trying not to touch Finn and wanting nothing more than to help him. Leo thought he knew about Harvard, but sometimes when he saw them like this, he wasn’t sure he’d ever know anything at all.
“What about my sunshine?” Finn’s voice drew him out of his mind. Brown eyes, dim light. “Did he miss me?” 
Leo swallowed and nodded. “Yeah, he—” His voice broke and he rolled his eyes at himself when he felt a surprising tear escape.
“Aw, Le…” Finn’s brows knit together.
“Sorry, I’m just worried about you.”
Finn’s eyes were sympathetic, and he kept looking at him even as he kissed Logan’s forehead. “Shift change, Lo.”
Logan looked, Leo had to admit, a little reluctant, but he pushed himself up and leaned down for one more kiss.
“It’s okay, Lo, you can stay,” Leo said shakily.
“Non,” Logan said, and before Leo could move he pressed his hand to Leo’s thigh and kissed his cheek. “Just warming it up for you.”
It was warm. Finn tucked Leo right up against his chest. He smelled a little bit like the hospital, but if Leo pressed hard enough (and he did) there was Finn there, too. Logan took Leo’s place, settling on his stomach between Finn’s legs with his arms folded across Finn’s hips.
“Don’t cry, baby,” Finn whispered against Leo’s mouth. “Please don’t cry.”
“I love you,” Leo said thickly. “I’m sorry, I should be comforting you.”
“Shh,” Finn kissed him again, peppering them softly over his cheek. “It’s okay, it’s okay.”
“I’m gonna kill Jack,” Logan said.
“He didn’t do this to me, Lo,” Finn said softly. “It was a hit.”
“We don’t know that,” Logan said, chin against Finn’s chest. In any other situation, he would have looked adorable, feet half off the bed like that. But his green eyes were dark.
“Did you confront him?” Finn asked, eyes on Logan.
Logan rolled his eyes.
“Tremz,” Finn said warningly. “You could get in serious trouble—”
“I broke my helmet,” Logan said. “I didn’t break him.”
Leo felt Finn’s hand tighten around his shoulders. “Logan.”
Leo pressed harder against Finn, watching them.
“I’m right,” Logan pushed himself up, hands on Finn’s hips. Any other time, he would have raised his voice, but he kept it soft in the dark room. Leo still thought he felt Finn wince. “He did this. Finn, he did this to you—”
“I did this,” Leo whispered.
It felt like even the machines beeping around them paused. Leo couldn’t see Finn’s face well, but Logan’s eyes snapped right to his. Leo just turned his face into Finn’s chest and let himself break.
~
Leo cursed the position of goalie, for once in his life, as he fumbled through the endless straps and buckles of his cumbersome equipment. It didn’t help that his fingers were shaking. Alex, holding Finn’s head on the ice. I’m fine. I’m fine, Le. Deadening silence and collective gasps. Logan, skating hard to catch up and—
Jack. Jack, Jack, Jack—
Leo’s jersey got caught on part of his padding, and it was as good as someone trying to hold him back. Irrational, pure rage fired through his chest and he yanked the fabric hard over his head, ripped at the the velcro of his chest pad. Some part of his mind registered how quiet the Lions locker room was around him. Some part of his mind knew how hard he was breathing, that the motion of tearing off his jersey had slammed his knuckles into his stall on accident. A bruise, probably, would form. But he couldn’t feel anything. He pulled at the laces of his skates, watching his hands shake.
“Leo…”
Kasey’s voice. Leo could hardly hear that, either.
Finn on the ice. So still. One one thousand, two one thousand, three one thousand, four, five—
His pads were splayed out in front of him, around him on the ground. Finn’s stall was empty, and beside it Leo looked for green eyes and Logan and found Kota instead, quiet, not sure what to do. A new shot of anger. Logan, traded. Who would ever do that? Logan had won them a Cup, he was theirs, he was a Lion, Logan was his, he should be here.
“Le, it’s gonna be okay,” Kasey said softly, helping Leo ease the rest of his equipment off with expert, steady hands. “Let me help, okay?”
Jack. Jack. Hey, Le, look, good for you that you never had to feel scared—
Finally, it was all off of him. He didn’t feel any lighter. He locked eyes with Kasey for a long moment. Kasey, against his words, looked as scared as Leo felt. Leo yanked on a pair of sweatpants, didn’t bother to change out of his sweat-soaked shirt, and ran.
He made it five paces before meeting Jack.
Wide-eyes. Sweaty hair, still half in his gear. Even with his skates on, Leo was taller. Leo looked for bruises, blood, something to show him that Logan had gotten to him first. Nothing.
“Leo,” Jack said.
That look on his face. Leo was back in eleventh grade and he’d said something wrong, he’d said something when they were somewhere too bright, too crowded, Leo, what the fuck, what are you doing—
Jack put his hands up. Surrender. As if he even had that right. “Leo.”
Leo hadn’t realized that he had frozen to the spot. Not until Jack started walking forward. Not until he said his name again. Leo, stop it. God, it can’t always be like that. Okay? Shaking his hands off. Stop.
“Leo—”
“No,” Leo said. “No.”
Jack blinked once, again, swallowed hard. “Le…”
“Get out of my way.”
“No—”
“Get out of my way.” He shoved Jack in the chest hard, and when it didn’t feel like enough to watch him stumble backwards, he did it again. Jack just stared at him, bracing himself against the wall. Leo snapped all over again. If those first words had hurt his throat, his next ones tore at him. They were laced with the throb of tears, unshed. He shoved Jack hard a third time and watched the way he winced. “What is—What the hell is wrong with you?”
“No, no,” Jack whispered. “Please, you don’t understand—”
Leo didn’t recognized the sound of pure frustration he made. He wanted to bring something down, Jack, the wall, this entire building.
“What is wrong with you?” he shouted again.
“It was an accident,” Jack said. “He had—” Jack closed his eyes. “I wasn’t—He just folded, he fucking folded, how was I supposed to know? This is hockey.”
“That wasn’t hockey. Finn has a concussion.” Leo wasn’t sure how he knew, but he knew. “This is his third. Did you know that? Did you stop to think about that?”
Jack put a hand over his eyes. “No. No, I—”
“Do you know what three concussions can do to a person? Did you think about that before you fucking snapped and shoved his head into the boards?”
“C’mon, I…” Jack sounded close to tears, too. “C’mon, Le, that’s not what happened, please—”
“If you’re angry at me,” Leo shouted, “takeit out on me.”
“I’m not angry at you,” Jack roared back.
Leo curled his hands into fists. “You think I don’t know that? I didn’t do anything.”
Jack didn’t react like Leo thought he would. Leo waited for him to explode back at him again. He almost wanted it. He wanted to get this over with. Finn needed him. He needed Finn. He needed Logan’s hand on his back, Finn letting them take him home. He needed to see Finn safe and okay and not still and pale out on the ice.
Instead, Jack sagged in front of him in the hallway. He looked up at Leo, cheeks and neck red. “Le.”
“Don’t waste my fucking time,” Leo said. “I’m done. I’m so fucking done with you.”
“I,” Jack began. “I didn’t mean to.”
“What did you mean?” Leo said. “For once in your life, why don’t you tell me what you actually meant. Because, honest to God, I don’t think I’ve ever known. Because I’m not here to clean up your messes anymore. I’m not here to make you feel better about yourself, or to tell you its okay. I broke that habit a long time ago.”
“I didn’t mean to,” Jack said again.
“What did you mean?”
“I don’t know. I…It’s hockey, you just snap sometimes, it’s adrenaline, it’s—it’s the game. I went too far, I know that, but he’s…he’s…”
“He’s what?” Leo shouted. “What, what, what, speak or get out of my way.”
“He’s happy.”
Leo pressed his hand over his eyes. “God, I’m going to kill you. I’m going to fucking kill you, I don’t even know—how to respond to that. Get out of my way.”
Leo pushed through him, but Jack grabbed his hand.
“I didn’t expect you to be happy,” he said, and Leo froze all over again.
He tried, for a moment, to remember if he’d been happy when Jack was in his life. Or, if he’d only thought he was. His childhood bedroom, dark, Jack flinching at every sound from the larger house. Jack’s skin touching his, and Leo thinking that he would do anything, panicking over how much he could do to keep them this way for as long as possible. To make Jack give him a smile when it was all over.
Finn, hurting now but always soft and grinning on the pillows. C’mere. Come here, baby. Logan, leaning over him, thumb against his lip. Let’s stay up all night. Leo, smiling, why? Logan, leaning down for a kiss. I wanna keep looking at you.
“But you are,” Jack whispered. “You’rehappy, and it…Fuck. It falls off of you three like…like something you can see.”
Slowly, Leo turned. He pulled his hand out of Jack’s and close to his chest, cradling it like it was broken.
“So you hit him?” Leo asked, voice breaking.
“I got…it all got tangled. Logan hates me. Finn hates me. Alex, Percy, Will, even Luke…”
“You hardly even know them.”
“You hate me.”
“I don’t.”
Jack took a long time before shaking his head. “You do.”
“Jack. I hate what you did to me I hate how you treated me.” Leo took a breath. “I don’t think about you enough to hate you.”
Leo turned and gave himself the pleasure-pain of being the one to walk away first.
~
“Le,” Finn whispered. Leo could tell he was looking at Logan, probably wide-eyed, but he didn’t dare move from his place hiding against Finn. He heard him mouth softly to Logan, Happy? What the fuck?
“Leo,” Finn said again. “Leo.”
Logan was scrambling up from his place in a moment. He squeezed himself to sit on the very edge of the bed against Leo’s back. Leo felt him lean over him and pull at his sweatshirt.
“Leo,” Logan whispered. “Non. Non, non…”
Leo let out an ugly sound and clutched Finn closer.
“Baby,” Finn said. “Look at me.” He went to reach with his bad arm and hissed in pain. “Look at me. This isn’t your fault. Oh my God, Le, this isn’t your fault, baby.”
He felt Logan curl his body over his, felt his nose press against his jaw. He pulled until Leo sat up, but when he tried to wrap him in his arms, Leo stood.
“It’s true,” Leo said. “Hockey does tangle with everything else.” He stood, looking at them sitting side by side on the bed. “And I know that because Logan wants to kill Jack for what he did, and so do I. Think of—Fenrir and Remus.” Remus’ career almost ended, just for a number on a ranking board. “Or Regulus and Sirius.” Feuding over family nonsense. Jack. Jack, Jack. “Things…unravel. And they come out on the ice.”
“That doesn’t make you responsible,” Finn said. He had a bright flush to his cheeks. He was leaning back into his pillows more.
“Jack came for you because of me,” Leo said.
“Leo,” Finn said softly. He lay back on the bed, hand to his forehead. He closed his eyes. “No, baby, you…” He trailed off.
“Finn?” Logan whispered. His attention was pulled away from Leo and he leaned over Finn. He put a hand to his cheek. “Oh.” He reached for the cup at Finn’s bedside and, instead of holding it to Finn’s mouth like Leo had expected it to, he dipped his fingers into the cool water before running them through Finn’s hair. Finn let out a relieved sound. “Just rest, Rouge. Let’s get you home.”
Leo held his breath. He felt stupid. So stupid, standing there. Talking about himself. He wrapped his arms around his stomach and watched Logan press feather-light kisses to Finn’s face.
“Mon rouge, just sleep. We’ll check out and we’ll go home. We’ll go home.”
“Leo,” Finn mumbled, eyes closed.
“No,” Leo heard himself say. “No, never mind.” He moved towards the door and felt Logan’s eyes follow him.
“Soleil,” Logan began to say.
“I’ll take care of the paperwork,” Leo said, and pushed out the door.
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radiohead-spiderman · 3 months
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Lily Evans modern au NUMBA TWO🗣️
(Ignore how different she looks from the other image, I have not figured out how to draw her😕)
She’s in James’ Jersey because why not
BONUS: Pandora and Mary’s comment
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