#james potter x redaer | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bluebirdwrites · 4 years

Note

james potter x reader where james and reader were close friends but he eventually focused all his attention on lily so they drifted? and maybe the reader got seriously hurt or something and he realizes just how much he loves the reader? angst with happy ending if that’s okay!

as easy as breathing; jp

warnings; swearing and violence, you have been warnED!

author’s note; i hope you like what i’ve written from your request anon, because i really enjoyed writing this hehe! by the way, requests are open! and I am multi fandom too, so check out my blog maybe (; have a nice day!

summary; in which, being friends with james potter is as easy as breathing. but then he ignores everyone and everything in favour of a girl who doesn’t return his affections. and he’s not there when it matters most.

Only eleven and you’re happy. Hogwarts, a happy place. A place of many choices and a place of mystery. Standing on the platform is daunting- you won’t see your parents for months. This will be the longest you will go without your mother’s caring words and your fathers affinity for mischief.

Committing the smell of your mother’s perfume and taking your fathers sweatshirt, you begin to push your luggage toward the train. You briefly thank whoever loads your trunk before letting a large black and white tom cat slither into your arms.

Absentmindedly scratching behind the cats ears, you tentatively begin to check for an empty carriage. Fining one almost instantly, the door is closed behind you with a muffled click. Sighing, you sink into the seats of the carriage cuddling your fathers sweatshirt to your chest and breathe deeply.

Time to be a big kid now. Just like mummy said.

The final whistle for the train blows as you rise towards the window from your seat letting the cat walk in figure eights around your legs. Finding your parents, you wave hanging half out the window until you can no longer see them in the crowd of magical parents also farewelling their children.

Going to your seat again, you run your fingers through your cats fur. The cat— Splodge — lets its hair stand on end as it jumps up and onto your lap. Hissing at a certain part of the room, the cat flicks it’s tail whilst looking at the door.

Not even half a minute later comes a knocking on he door. It is neither timid nor aggressive, only justly confident.

“Come in,” your voice travels through the still currently closed door, voice friendly. Once the door is open, a boy with unruly ink coloured hair prances through the now open door.

Taking a moment to study him, he looks young. All freckles, askew black frames and molten molasses eyes that make his happy smile seem only all the brighter.

Probably a first year. Possibly a new friend?

“James Potter, how do you do? Can I sit in here? You look like a nice person,” he is endearing, especially when he tilts his head as if he is second guessing himself.

“Sure thing Potter, you can call me Anderson until we’re on a nickname basis,” he only laughs. Sweet and childishly gleeful. Already, his presence is as easy as breathing.

And that is that.

Now in fourth year, you can say that it’s been fun— apart from James ignoring you, and everyone else frankly. Choosing to to follow his willy in the direction of Lily Evans. But whatever— Having been friends with Sirius and Remus and Peter as well was everything that you could have hoped for. When the hat had declared ‘Gryffindor’ after a minutes deliberation you had been confused- at first. You now understand as you face down the angry Sytherins you understand your own stubbornness and unwillingness to back down after what they had called you.

Being muggleborn could be challenging with all of the blood purist fanatics running around. At least you weren’t the product of multiple different variations of incest throughout generations only to be born a purblood with an uncle dad.

But still. Being called a mudblood of all things hurt. It ached and stung and left the bitter taste of bile— that kept getting stronger— on the tip of your tongue the longer your were angry.

“Poor Ickle Mudblood. All alone,” the group of snakes slither closer, closing you in on all sides watching as you plant your feet and grit your teeth.

Good Godric, this is pathetic.

They close in around you from all sides muttering spells that send you flying. It hadn’t even been 10 minutes and fighting back was very hard being out numbered and all.

Where were the prefects. Where were the marauders? Where was James?

They wouldn’t come. Not whilst you were in this abandoned corridor. Not whilst it was a Hogsmeade weekend. Not whilst James Potter was obsessing over Lily Evans. Sure- she was lovely. And beautiful and intelligent and just better than you.

The spells kept becoming more painful as the chanting of manky mudblood rebounded off of the walls and into your ears.

You tried to be strong. You tried to fight back and be brave. You tried to stop the tears stinging your eyes and fight back the scream clawing at the back of your throat; but it felt good to release it. To let them make you black, blue and purple all over.

When they’d finally stopped- when you thought that they’d finally stopped, you just couldn’t help it. The words tumbled out and you couldn’t take them back.

“That the best you got you bloody pureblooded pricks?” They all prickle and one of the snakes step forward— Lestrange it looks like— and kick your side.

Something just broke

“Well then,” he breathes pointing his wand at you, skin pulled tight over his skull into a sickeningly mocking grin. “Why don’t I show you exactly what I am capable of then?”

His grin, startlingly white against the shallow grey of his skin, turns into a snarl as he almost seems to seethe the next word. It is so hateful it burns your nerve endings and forces your toes to curl.

“Crucio.” And then everything is red. The curse, the pain and their laughter. It is fired thrice more and held for ten minutes or more before you hear shouting. And then it stops and you feel bodies beside you and more voices shouting counter spells and knock back jinxes.

“Anderson,” It’s Sirius speaking time you now, worried sounding Sirius. “We’re here now. Peter’s gone off t’get Minnie. And then they’ll really get it. S’okay now yeah?”

You can only nod and open your eyes staring into the stormy grey of your friend above. Gently gripping his hand you look and see Remus in front of you acting as a a shield between them and you.

You lick some of the blood off of your lips, “Where’s James, Sirius?” His nostrils flare angrily as if he was angry, and his eyes visibly darkened and he pulled you closer to him.

“Not here apparently,” you can see him getting angrier, and you know what usually comes next. ”Probably with Evans.”

You can feel yourself realising something then, that you’ll never ever measure up to Lily Evans. Squeezing his hand you can only give him a look as if to say later.

Later comes in the form of the infirmary. Of sitting there over the next day and hearing of five Slytherins being expelled and one being sent off to Azkaban after using an unforgivable curse.

Peter, Sirius and Moony all stay with you. Comforting you whilst you cry and holding your hand when you have spasms and phantom pains from the lingering crucio curse.

James doesn’t come until he hears about a Gryffindor being attacked by a group of Slytherins. He doesn’t put two and two together until he walks in the hospital room and seeing his friends in and around a hospital bed.

You are the first to see him and your face contorts into something angry. Peter is the next to notice, and he shields you with a rigid posture before facing James head on with the nastiest glare he’s ever seen.

Moony is next. He is less angry but more disappointed. He barely looks at James before he clenches his fist and holds your hand, seeming to give it a squeeze.

James is blessed with foot and mouth disease and even now he can’t seem to help himself, “Alright Anderson? You look pretty manky over there.”

Your eyes glaze over and you flinch. You curl in on yourself and three lions fold in around you blocking James from your sight and making sure that you’re okay. James doesn’t notice.

Sirius’ reaction is the most explosive. The chair he sat in is now hard against the wall, being forced back on the tile at how quickly he had stood up. His eyes are like a thunderstorm as he walks towards James with purpose. Rarely do they argue but when they do it’s a shit storm to fix.

“Tell me James,” he strides closer so he is directly in James’ personal space, nose to nose and straightening to his full height. “Where the bloody hell have you been whilst our friend needed you? And don’t you dare say what I think you are.”

James clears his throat only beginning to recognise how much shit he’s in, but not really putting a speed bump between his mouth and his brain.

“I was with Evans. I reckon I’m close to breaking though to her mate!” He laughs, only succeeding at making Sirius go red in the cheeks and Moony and Peter shuffling closer to you. “Why? Where were you?”

This time something rare happens and then something rarer. First, Remus let’s loose what sounds like a growl as his expression turns bitter and angry. He looks every bit ready to wage a warpath, but he grips your hand tight knowing that you need him there with you. And then Peter’s on his feet, hands shaking and on a warpath towards James.

Sirius looks like he’s about to do something by how taught the muscles in his shoulders are. But it’s Peter that acts. It’s quietly mischievous Peter Pettigrew that marches towards James Potter and gives him a shiner. Not Sirius Black. Not Remus Lupin. Not even you, It’s Peter Pettigrew to lose himself in his anger and have Sirius grip his shoulder shocked and proud.

“You know what James! You know exactly bloody what we were doing and you think you have the right to ignore us all- for weeks! And then prance in here and ask? Fuck it, you should know why!” All of you are shocked as he appears to calm down and walk to your side with an awkward little smile.

You’re angry. Deservedly so you think, but you also know that whilst that anger feels right now, in the land of tomorrow or next week it will not.

“Can I talk to James alone? If it makes you boys feel better you can wait outside, but I think we both need to talk and then you can all say whatever you want to eachother,” you look them all in the eye making sure that they all take you seriously. “Please.”

Now alone with James you let him walk over until he stops in front of the chair Moony’d occupied not even thirty seconds earlier, tentatively sitting to face you head on. His cheek had already began to swell from Peter’s earlier hit.

“So,” you move your jaw side to side until it clicks with a popping sound. “Whilst i was writhing on the floor because of the Cruciatus Curse, you were chasing Evans around? And cancelling plans constantly to chase after Lily Evans? Don’t I just feel Important Jamsie.”

His face looks constipated as he mulls over your words and your expression. He wants to make it up to you, make things right. He wants to make things better than before, he wants to make himself forget Lily Evans and drown himself in you.

His hand finds yours, tender and strong. “Look, I- I know I’ve been shit these past few months. Chasing after a girl I know that probably won’t ever come round, and I’ve got no excuse. Is there absolutely any way I can make it up to you?”

He’s looking at you, all warm and gooey. He flows over you like the eye of a hurricane, the calm in the middle of a disaster. In an instant he’s pulling you to him and gravitating around you. In an instant his face is the softest you’ve ever seen it, despite the blooming blotch of purple on one side of his face.

It’s a spur of the moment thing for both of you, you say it on accident really. You weren’t thinking outside of now and he wasn’t thinking at all. “Kiss me,” swallowing your nerves isn’t hard this time, after all it is a spur of the moment thing. “Kiss me here because there’s always been more to us then just friends Potter, and I think you know just as well as I do how badly I want you to kiss me.”

And he’s kissing you, fingers in your hair and thumbs on the apples of your cheeks as he crashes over you like an ocean. Your hands are at his bale and his cheek running delicate hands over his skin.

I love you, I love you, I love you. You can’t say that out loud but it is a mantra in your head as he breaths life to you through a kiss. Your foreheads rest together, and you sit with him. Being with him, friend or more is still as easy as breathing. And you hope that you can one day he can know how much you love him, and how you need him more than oxygen.

102 notes · View notes