#dad!james

The restaurant is fancy. It's James's favorite and you secretly think one of the reasons is he likes showing you how much he can spoil you, as if he hadn't been doing just that for the past thirteen years. He'd ordered this fancy appetizer, along with some wine you haven't touched and was currently talking about work. Taking over his father's company was putting some stress on him, which you understood. 

"You know, I can't wait till Harry starts school, not that I won't miss the little bugger," James chuckles behind his wine glass, his mind wandering, "but because we'll have more time. Just us."

His words cause your stomach to sink. How are you supposed to tell him now, you think. James, always observant to your emotions, frowns when he sees your expression. 

"You okay, you look like you're going to be sick—" 

As he speaks, the nausea hits you hard and you stand, holding a hand over your mouth as you rush to the nearest bathroom without any warning. You clumsily throw yourself on the ground, vomiting into the toilet and you choke on an embarrassed sob. 

James is hot on your heels the moment you leave dinner so abruptly, running into the women's bathroom without a care in the world. The older women, who'd been mildly appalled by your vomiting, send him some dirty looks but he doesn't pay them any mind as he opens the stall. He kneels next to you, gently gathering your hair in his hand as he uses the other one to rub soothing circles on your back.

"Hey, my love, what happened?" He asks between soothing words, his hand strokes your hair as you slump against him, tears glistening in your waterline. 

Your husband isn't stupid and he knows you. He looks into your eyes and he understands instantly. His breath hitches as he remembers just how bad your 'morning' sickness was when you were pregnant with Henry, lasting and becoming even worse in the evenings. His gaze softens instantly and clicks his tongue. "Why didn't you tell me?" he scolds half-heartedly, still rubbing soothing circles on your back. 

You sniffle, wiping your mouth with an enormous amount of toilet-paper as you whimper, "I felt like I was going to disappoint you, you seemed so happy for time alone and—"

"And now we are going to have another baby," James finishes for you, kissing your temple as he helps you up and brings you to the sink. He pushes hair behind your face as he gently takes some paper-towel, wets it, and gently runs it under your chin and around your mouth. You look miserable and his heart breaks. 

He doesn't say anything for a moment as he washes your hands, washing his in the process as well. Your mind races. You don't know what to think, what to feel about this new life growing inside you.

He places his large palm on your stomach. You're not showing, yet. You flinch, sniffing. "Why so sad, love?" he whispers as he tries to comfort you.

"You're upset," you whisper, looking at your appearance in the mirror. You look like a mess.

James grins. "Says who?" He laughs and presses a kiss to your forehead again. 

You look on the verge of tears again and your husband's smile falters. He leans down, catching your gaze so you're looking at him properly. "Hey, love, please don't cry okay? I'm not upset, I promise. I'm happy. So so happy, really," James reassures you, a familiar glint of sincerity in his eyes. "We are having another baby. This is the best news, okay?" 

Tension eases in your shoulders and you finally relax. The warm feeling of happiness seeps back into you. You sniff again, looking into his eyes. "Promise?"

He straightens himself and holds out his pinky for you to take. "I pinky promise." You hook your pinky with his and he leans down, kissing his closed fist. You hesitate, finally cracking a small smile as you do the same. 

"Excuse me? This is the ladies room," a snark voice calls from behind you both and you look towards the voice. A woman is standing tensely in the doorway, gripping the hand of her young daughter, and she's glaring daggers at James.

The little girl looks confused and she's clearly feeling the fear her mother is and you can tell from James's expression he feels bad. 

"Sorry." He waves his hands in the air, his cheeks dusted pink, as he points to you, "My wife was sick—I was just leaving—" James looks your way and mouths, "You coming?"

You nod, taking his hand, as he leads you out the door. You mumble a small apology to the woman and James sends a small reading smile to the girl, hoping not to scare her.

Once your back at your table, James gulps down his wine and looks at you sheepishly. "Oops," he mutters. You smile and cover your giggles. James's smile widens when you laugh and he reaches over, resting his hand over yours. 

"Seriously, baby," he says, seriously now, "I'm really happy. And Henry will be happy too."

You rub your temples, taming some of the wisps of hair that fall in front of your eyes. "Yeah? You think so?"

James laughs, "No. He's gonna be furious," he pauses when he sees that his joke isn't landing and he squeezes your hand. "I'm joking. He'll be the best big brother. He's already so good with Cassi, he's practically an older brother already."

You smile. "He is, isn't he?"

James hums, that giddy smile of his returning. "Pregnant. Again," he muses, "I can't believe how lucky I am," he says and looks at you like you're the brightest star in the universe. You feel your cheeks warm. "I love you."

"I love you more," you say back, bringing his knuckles to your lips. 

James grins and when he catches glimpse of your untouched wine glass, a smirk curls his lips and shake his head, clicking his tongue. "Can't drink this, baby," he teases you and slides it over to his side. You roll your eyes. 

"I wasn't," you argue playfully.

"Hmm?"

You swat his hand, knowing he's teasing you on purpose to lighten the mood. Still, your nerves have calmed and you aren't feeling as nauseous anymore. In fact, you can finally truly feel excited now. Another baby. You smile.

Once the food arrives and the topic of conversation had changed to James excitedly coming up with new baby names, you feel at ease again and warmth spreads in your stomach.

╰┈➤ you sob into the pillow, your body trembling, your eyes squeezed shut as you attempt to stop the flow of tears. you had yelled at james, your adopted dad, ranting about how he’d abandon you just like your bio parents had, how nobody would ever love you.

of course, this wasn’t true. james loved you as if you were his own, he had known you for most of your life after all. he worried about you, more than anyone else had. he was terrified for you the day you had attempted to take your life because you were worried james would leave you just like your bio parents.

you had your good moments of course. the trauma was still present, but for the most part, you were happy with james. the fear and anxiety still lingered in the back of your mind, the fear of abandonment, but it wasn’t as prevalent.

you and james had gone to the mall earlier, and all of the loud noises and people had stressed you out. for a moment, you had accidentally let go of james’ hand and for about 5 minutes you had lost him. this is what had triggered your breakdown, sending you spiraling so when you got home, you had freaked out completely on james.

now, you were in your room, sobbing still, even though about 10 minutes had passed. james figured he’d let you calm down and in about 5 minutes you would come back out of your cozy space. that wasn’t the case though, and he was beginning to worry.

you heard a knock at the door followed by james’ voice, gentle and soft as ever. “sweetheart?” he asked, not wanting to enter until you gave him the okay. when you didn’t answer, just let out a choked sob, he opened the door and entered the room.

the sight of you crying broke james’ heart into a billion pieces, frowning as he walked over to sit on the bed beside you. “kiddo,” he whispered. “look at me.” his voice was firm, loud enough that you could hear him from where your face was buried in the pillow, but not loud enough to startle you.

he placed a hand on your back hesitantly, prepared to remove it if you asked. you didn’t, and so he softly ran his hand up and down your back in a desperate attempt to soothe you. he sighed. “sweetheart, ‘m not mad at you,” he spoke softly, giving you a weak smile as you finally lifted your head to look up at him.

“you- you’re not?” you asked, sniffling and wiping your eyes. “no, angel.” he said, smiling at you. “why would i be mad at you, kiddo?” he asked genuinely, a soft look of confusion adorning his tan face. his tattooed hand continued to run up and down your back, but stopped when you flipped over, holding a plushie close to your chest, sniffling still as the tears began to stop.

“i- i freaked out on you and i said you’d abandon me, and it wasn’t okay, and i’m so sorry dad, i’m so, so sorry.” you said quickly, rushing through your words. “hey, sweetheart, it’s okay. i get it. you’ve been through a lot. more than i could imagine, y’know that? it hurts me to see you this way. you’re my kid, and i love you, and i don’t want you to ever think that i’d abandon you. because i won’t.” he whispered, gently petting your hair, soothing your mind.

you closed your eyes, the tears coming to a stop, melting into his hands. he reached down and cupped your cheek, forcing you to look at him. “i love you, okay? and i’m not gonna ever leave you, sweetheart.” he said, smiling at you. you wiped your eyes and nodded. “ok, dad. ‘m sorry.” “don’t be sorry kid. let’s go watch a movie, yeah sweetheart? anything you want.”

“What’s up, my love?” He asked, immediately wrapping his arms around her and bringing her closer to him. She could smell the mint on his breath as she looked up at him, resting her chin on his chest as she did so. 

“The hot water isn’t working,” she pouted. 

“Can’t the house elf fix it?” It was a genuine question which was why he was mildly offended when she scoffed. 

“The house elf is sleeping, I don’t want to wake him up.” She took a step back, the muscles in her neck tensing up at the awkward position. 

“But waking your dad up is fine?” 

She scoffed again, folding her arms over her chest. 

“Do we even know if the house elf knows how to fix this? I know my dad does and he doesn’t go to sleep until later anyway.” 

Draco had an amused look on his face that only made her frown deepen.

“Besides,” she said, feeling the need to continue, “you act as if my dad doesn’t love hearing from me.” She stuck her chin out at him in a childish manner making him playfully shake his head as he reached out to squeeze at the flesh on her hips. If there was one thing he knew to be true it was that James Potter would never complain about hearing from his daughter, no matter what time it was. 

James didn’t come until the next morning. Much too early for Draco’s liking - not that he would ever admit that - but he thought this was all pretty normal. It was no surprise to him that he was at his daughter’s beck and call and he wasn’t at all shocked that she had chosen the help of her father over the help of a house elf knowing that she had not grown up with one and still wasn’t convinced they needed one. 

And he wasn’t with his wife at every hour of the day, so he had no clue how often these calls to her father took place. 

It wasn’t until a couple of months later that he heard her call her father again. 

“Dad,” she said, not too quietly in the middle of the shop, “how much is too much for floo powder?” Draco was glad that she sent the patronus before he let out a snort. 

Her head snapped towards him. 

“What?”

“Are you serious?” He asked, knowing that she most definitely was. 

“I don’t know what’s an appropriate price for floo powder.” They were standing in front of a bunch of different floo powders, with a large price range. If Draco was being honest, he too didn’t know the appropriate price for floo powder, but he just wanted to tease his wife about how reliant she was on her father, sue him. 

“You could have asked me,” he teased. 

“Please,” she scoffed, turning around to look back at the different types of floo powder. “We both know your house elf did that stuff.” 

She was right and Draco didn’t have anything to say back, but fortunately, James Potter was quick to get back to his youngest child and he was saved by his patronus. 

“The more expensive stuff will give you a smoother ride, but really, you’re just paying for the brand name. The cheaper stuff though often gets stuck in your throat so I’d go somewhere in the middle. Usually about a galleon a pound is pretty average, we always use Floo-Pow and it’s usually on special. Let me know if you need anything else, I love you lots.” 

Draco couldn’t help the snigger that had escaped him which earnt him a mean glare from the pretty girl picking up a container of Floo-Pow. 

Before she could put it in the basket, Draco snatched it out of her hand. She let out a sigh that Draco ignored and looked at him expectantly as he analysed the container. 

“I don’t think we buy this one.” 

“Well which one did you buy?” 

Draco shrugged, “probably the most expensive one.” He put Floo-Pow back on the shelf and reached over her to grab one at the end of the shelf. “Wildsmith sounds familiar,” he muttered, putting it in the basket she was carrying. 

“Hey,” she wined, “we don’t need the most expensive one.” 

“Well I don’t know about you my love, but I want a smoother ride with nothing getting stuck in my throat.” 

“But you’re just paying for the brand name,” she whined, as if this was something she had always known and had stood by her entire life. 

“You’re literally just repeating what your dad said.” He couldn’t understand why she cared about the price of this anyway, it was not like she had to pay for it nor was money ever an issue in their relationship. 

She shrugged her shoulders, taking out the container Draco had put in her basket and replacing it with the one her dad had recommended. 

“Because he knows these things,” she explained, as if it was obvious. Draco knew that if he rolled his eyes he may not be able to call anyone his wife anymore so he refrained from doing so. 

“Fine,” he grumbled, reaching back over her to grab the container she had put back in the wrong spot, “we get both and then decide which is better.”

“Deal.” 

It was also no surprise to Draco that his wife thought that anything her father said was fact. Nor was he really surprised that she had sent a patronus to him for this. She valued his opinion and even if he loved to tease her about it, he knew what it was like to value the opinion of your father even for something as simple as floo powder. 

But it was only later that day when she called for her father again. They were unpacking everything they had bought, placing both of their preferred floo powders on top of the mantle. Draco didn’t say anything when she didn’t call for the house elf to unpack the bags he had carried in and had asked him to help her unpack. But he had naturally assumed that she would be happy to let the house elf make them dinner. 

But when he had suggested it her head had snapped towards him and suddenly she was taking long strides towards him and raking her fingernails up and down his chest, pouting up at him and whining that, “it would be so romantic if we cooked together though don’t you think so baby?” 

James Potter’s daughter wasn’t used to hearing the word ‘no’ and Draco understood why. It was why he was listening to her tell the story about how her grandmother, James’ mother, always used to make this pasta dish that was ‘just her absolute favourite!’ and how she always made it whenever she new her son and his family were coming over because she knew that her granddaughter loved it. 

“So you’ve been spoiled your whole life then?” Draco liked to tease her, but he genuinely liked the story. Pasta was her favourite food, and now he knew why. 

She was cutting up a carrot and Draco had snaked his arms around her waist, letting his head fall into the nape of her neck. 

“I can’t help that I was her only granddaughter.” She knew Draco was teasing, but she couldn’t help but grumble it out. “Besides,” she continued, a confident look on her face, “you’re one to talk.”

And he knew she was right. 

Draco was happy to stay like this. Not only could he smell his favourite perfume that he always bought her, but she had just washed her hair and the ends were tickling the tips of his nose. And he knew that when she finished cutting the carrot, he would move and start helping her again, but he really just wanted a few more seconds in this position. 

But all of a sudden she stopped moving and Draco pulled his head up to see what was wrong. 

“Huh.” Was the only word that left her pretty lips before she was moving out of Draco’s grasp to go to the fire place. 

Part of Draco was curious to see what she doing and the other part of him had nothing better to do but follow her, so that was what he did. 

Without uttering a word to him, she knelt down on the ground and putting some of her floo powder in the fire, she quickly stuck her head in. 

Draco was standing behind her. He couldn’t help but admire the curve of her back in her bent position, but the thought was quickly put to the back of his mind when she said, “Dad, finally, it took you long enough to answer.” 

Draco was glad that her back was towards him so she couldn’t see the way his eyes rolled at her impatience. It had barely been a minute in James Potter’s defence. 

“Sorry princess,” he could hear James say, “what’s up?” 

“Dad,” she repeated as if this was an urgent matter, and Draco couldnt help thinking that given her sudden need to call her father, it was. “What wine did Gradma have with that pasta she always made me?” 

Draco couldn’t believe it. She didn’t even like wine! Sure, she drank it when there was nothing else available, but he had never seen her drink wine willingly and he knew that she was not going to be drinking any wine tonight. Was this really that urgent?

He was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn’t even hear James reply, but he did hear them say goodbye and watch her stand back up, a beaming smile on her face. 

“I can’t believe I forgot that!” 

Draco, like the good husband he was, prompted her to tell him more about her experiences with her grandmother, but really, he was just trying to understand why it was so important she just had to call her father for a question that could have been answered at any time. 

Draco had seen his wife call or complain to her father about very frivolous things. When they were just boyfriend and girlfriend and Draco would spend dinner at their house in Godric’s Hollow, he once made a joke to her that if he drank everytime the word, Dad!’ left her mouth, he wouldn’t be able to walk straight for a month. 

They were sitting on the family lounge, just the two of them after she had made her father make Harry move. ‘Dad! Harry’s being annoying and won’t leave us alone.” 

He was sitting with his back leant against the back of the lounge and she was sitting crosslegged, facing him, playing with the tips of his fingers. But when he got out his ‘joke’ she dropped his hand and stared at him dumbfounded for a solid five seconds before she yelled out, ‘Dad!’ She kept eye contact with him. ‘Draco’s being mean to me.’ 

But he thought that when they moved out together she would grow independent. Or that she would at least start to rely on him rather than her father, but he quickly learnt that that was not going to happen anytime soon. 

It was only a couple days later when their owl brought their mail. She had taken it from the owl, given it a little treat and was now giving Draco a run down of the letters they had received. 

“This one’s from your mum,” she said, passing him a letter. “This one’s from your work.” She gave him another. “This one is for me.” She put it to the side. Draco was watching her go through the letters and his eyebrows furrowed together when she paused at the next one. He watched her open it and read it intently. And then he watched her send a patronus to her father. “Dad,” she said, “do we really need floo insurance?”

Draco knew that now that they had their own floo network, they would have to get floo insurance, but he bit his tongue, not wanting to start a fight on their one morning this week together. But really, if she had just taken two seconds to tell him what the letter was about he would have told her that he was already in talk with the insurance company and they only needed the paperwork to be processed before the insurance was finalised. Sure, Draco could have told her this before but he didn’t think it was something she was interested in and he didn’t want her to worry about it. 

No, he was going to tell her. They could talk about this. They were adults. 

Draco went to open his mouth to tell her that he needed to start trusting him more than her dad because he had already sorted it out, but he was cut off by the one and only James Potter. Well, his patronus. 

“Good morning princess, yes, you should have floo insurance. Draco should know what to do, but if he isn’t sure let me know and I’ll help you set it up. I love you lots.” 

“Do you know what to do?” 

Draco didn’t mean for his spoon to clank so loudly against his bowl, but it did and he couldn’t take it back. 

“Does it matter? I’m sure you’d feel better if your dad did it anyway.” 

She frowned at his words. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Nothing,” he sighed, “I’m sorry I shouldn’t have snapped. I’ve already dealt with the floo insurance, it should all be processed by Tuesday.” 

“Who did you go with? Were they cheap? What does it cover? Should I ask my dad to see who they are with?”

“No,” he said a bit too quickly, cutting her off slightly and making her frown once more. 

“I feel like something’s wrong.”

“There’s nothing wrong, I just,” Draco sighed, running a hand through his already messy morning hair, “sometimes I get jealous about how much you rely on your dad still.” 

She softened at his confession, immediately getting up out of her chair to go and sit on his lap. He welcomed her in his arms, wrapping them around her hips as she held his face in the palm of his hands. 

“I’m sorry I made you feel that way. I’ve just always relied on my dad and I know he will never be bothered by me no matter how stupid my questions are.” 

“You could never bother me either, you know that right? Even when I’m at work. No matter what, you come first.” 

She did know because Draco had never made her feel stupid. Of course, he teased her relentlessly, but not once had he ever made her feel inferior and always gave genuine responses to whatever she said or asked. But hearing Draco actually say it made her feel even better and she made a silent promise to start making her beautiful husband feel relied on. 

She still called her dad almost everyday. It was often Draco would come home to find her sending a patronus to him. ‘Dad, you haven’t answered me all day.” “Dad, where’s mum?” “Dad, Harry is being a literal child. Tell him to grow up.” 

Draco was happy for James to sort that one out. And he didn’t mind that she still spent lots of time talking to her dad through the fire place. 

“Dad, you’ll never guess what happened to me today when I was making lunch.” “Dad, you’ll never guess who I saw at Flourish and Botts today.” “Dad, what did Sirius tell you the other day/.”

Because she kept to her promise and now, Draco was also receiving various patronus messages from her. 

“Draco, the floo insurance people are saying that we are late for a payment, but that’s not a thing, right?”

“Draco, can you please pick up some more Sleekeazy’s hair potion on your way home. I’d send the house elf but he said he wasn’t feeling well and I feel bad.” “Draco, Gringrotts are trying to charge me for entering our vault, that’s not normal right?” 

Draco loved it. He loved seeing her patronus make it’s way into his office for everyone to see that he had a wife who he loved and who loved him and trusted him. 

It was a normal Wednesday afternoon when her patronus entered his office and he already had a dumb smile on his face, wondering what question his pretty wife had for him today. 

“Draco,” instantly, he could tell that this wasn’t one of her usual patronus messages, her voice was small and in pain, “I think I splinched myself and I don’t know what to do.” 

Draco was up and trying not to curse her for not sending her location in the message. He was quick to send one back, saying that she was going to be okay, she just needed to tell him where she was right now. 

She was in Diagon Alley, just outside Ollivander’s. Draco didn’t bother to tell anyone he was leaving, he was the boss and he didn’t have time to tell them he had to go. His girl needed him.  

He took long strides to get to her and when he was in ear shot she said, “I’m sorry, I know I could have asked someone else but I wanted you.” She wasn’t crying which was a good sign, but Draco wasn’t convinced he wasn’t going to start at her words. 

“Where’d you splinch yourself my love?” 

“My pinky.” She held up her left pinky finger and found that the top part had been cut off. Nothing that a quick regrowth potion couldn’t fix, but still, Draco could sympathise, quite scary. 

He grabbed it in is own hand and he gave it a kiss just under the little specks of blood. 

“C’mon my love, lets get you to St Mungo’s.” 

She held onto him as he apparated her and they were happy to give her a quick regrowth potion and make her sit for fifteen minutes to ensure she was okay. 

“I’m sorry,” she frowned as Draco sat down next to her in the waiting area. 

“Why?” He wrapped her arm around her and she rested her head on his chest. 

“I feel like I’m always bugging you with quesitons at work and now you had to leave because of me.”

“Don’t be,” he pushed his head down to press a kiss to the top of her head. “I told you, you always come first.” 

After fifteen minutes she was given the okay to leave. 

“Draco,” she said, “will you please apparate me back home first?” She had such a sad look on her face that he couldn’t say no. Not that he was going to anyway. 

But even after they arrived home, she still had such a sad look on her face that Draco would have done anything to make it go away. 

“Have fun back at work.” She was already burying herself in his chest, hugging him goodbye. 

“Don’t be ridiculous my love.” She pulled back instantly, giving him a quizzical look. “You’re injured, I can’t leave you.” 

“No, Draco,” she sighed, “I can’t make you stay home to look after me, it was only a small cut and I promise I’m fine.” 

“I don’t care, I can’t leave my girl injured.” 

She smiled at that and Draco was happy to lead her over to the lounge where he made her sit while he made her a cup of tea. 

That night, they had been invited to Godric’s Hollow for their weekly dinner as James and Lily missed their children. 

“Do you think you’ll be okay to go?” Draco teased. 

“I’ll try to be brave.” 

But Draco didn’t even suggest apparating and instead made his way over to the fireplace, getting her floo powder ready for her as she wrapped her coat around herself. 

She went first and even though Draco followed immediately after, she was still about halfway through her splinching story by the time he got there. 

“Are you okay dear?” Her mum asked, coming over to inspect where the splinching had occurred. 

“Yeah, lucky it was just my pinky finger,” she said, pointing it up to show them. 

“You should’ve called me!” James scolded and Draco had only seen this emotion on his wife once or twice before, but he knew that she was embarrassed. 

“Oh, well, I mean,” she stuttered a bit more before she finally got it out. “I called Draco.” 

“Oh,” James said, taking a small step back. 

“He took really good care of me though,” she said very quickly, taking his hand into hers as he took a step closer to her, “he even stayed home from work to make sure I was really okay.” 

Draco was relieved to see a genuine happy look on James Potter’s face. 

“tada! look at you!” your daughter is not as impressed as james, it's much too early for that, but it doesn't dim the excited gleam in his eyes. you’re pretty sure nothing ever could. 

he plants a kiss on the top of her head, fidgeting one last time with the purple elastic before pulling away and rounding the table, hand mindlessly patting at your hip as he reaches around you to snatch a piece of bacon off the plate. he hums, “thank you, angel. tastes amazing.”

you shake your head with an easy smile at his affection. you’ve been married for what feels like a lifetime, and he’s yet to ever slack on making you feel loved and appreciated. your lip twitches thinking of your friends who always complain about how lucky you got. they’re not wrong.

you don’t even think about thanking him for doing your daughter’s hair, having learned quickly after the last time you did and he got so upset he sulked for the whole weekend. she’s my kid, of course i’ll do her hair. i’m not some deadbeat dad.

it took a lot of kisses and letting him eat you out until you almost passed out to make up for it.

“daddy, tell mummy i have to wear my suit,” your son says around a mouthful of bacon. you wipe his mouth with a napkin, warning don’t speak with your mouth full, please. he listens, pausing and finishing chewing before he swallows, shooting you a cheeky grin before turning back to his dad. “she doesn’t get it.”

james scoffs, eyes wide as he places a big hand on his little head and tilts it back so it rests against his stomach and he can stare down at him in faux shock. “are you crazy? of course she does! she’s a pro at this hero stuff.”

you sip at your coffee and hide a smile. god, you love him.

“you should listen to her, can’t go flaunting your true identity around, buddy.” his son is listening intently, nodding seriously as his dad drones on. “get into your normal clothes and we’ll put the suit in your backpack for when you need it. gotta keep it a secret, yeah?”

the little boy nods thoughtfully, “you’re right.” he jumps to his feet, taking his plate to the sink like the well mannered boy you both raised, and then turns towards the door before stopping in his tracks and running over to you, little arms wrapped tight around your middle. “thanks mummy,” he says in a rush against your stomach. “sorry for not believing you.” and then he’s darting down the hall. 

by now james has dropped down in the now vacant chair, smiling gratefully when you hand him a hot cup of coffee. you brush dark curls out of his face while he sips, “you’re such a good dad, y’know?” you scratch at his scalp, sappy smile on your face. “i love watching you with them.”

the tips of his ears redden and his cheeks get hot, but he still shoots you a cheeky grin and a wink—an almost mirror image of the little boy who once sat where he’s sitting—before reaching out and pulling you down on his lap. “you and your flattery, angel. you know what it does to me.”

you do, and you can also feel it as you wiggle around on his lap.

“mo’e!” the little squeal comes from across the table, chubby little arm reaching eagerly for the bacon in the middle of the table. “mo’e mummy, pwease.”

you both giggle, as you rip the bacon into little bits and bring them to your baby’s mouth, the pair of you watching with hearts in your eyes as she gobbles them up. 

It was quiet when James walked into the house, Harry fast asleep in his arms as he carefully closed the door with his foot, sparing one hand to lock it as well, though his brows furrowed when he noticed your coat and scarf hung on the coatrack, shoes abandoned by the couch as he walked further into his home.

There were little signs of your presence scattered about, and worry crept into his mind quite quickly, knowing that it was unlike you to show up unannounced, especially when you knew he wasn't here. He made quick work of walking to Harry's room, delicately transferring him to his crib, checking that the monitor was on before closing the door behind him. His eyes scanned the spare room which had been known as your room for quite some time now, owning up to its name once your relationship with him changed.

His brows furrowed further as he found it to be empty, soft steps leading him to his own bedroom where he instantly noticed your balled up figure cuddling his pillow, heart aching at the sight as he tried to rid himself of his shoes and coat as well, trying to be quiet as not to wake you if you were asleep, failing as you lifted your head slightly to meet his gaze.

"Jamie?" you breathed, and James was surprised by the sound, voice so hoarse, so empty, he was sure it wasn't your own, yet he made his way towards you in an instant, sitting down beside you as you reached for him. "You're home," you noted and he nodded, trying not to show his shock as you abandoned his pillow to crawl towards him, sinking into his arms as if you'd been waiting to do so all along, nuzzling your face into his chest as if you were trying to steal every bit of comfort from him that you could.

"Angel," he began, and you hummed into his shirt, his eyes raking your features as he notices the remnants left behind from tears, he lifted a hand to your face, delicate fingers brushing the tear stains from your cheeks as you closed your eyes. "What happened, love?" he asked ever so carefully, desperately trying to determine what brought you here, what upset you this much, what he could do, it was strange seeing you like this and it was driving him mad not knowing what he could do to help.

"I can't get into my apartment," was all you gave him, sniffing lightly as you found tears tugging at your heart once again, holding onto him even tighter as you tried not to think about your current situation too much, but also understanding James' need for details, not exactly unaware of how out of character this was for you. He guided you from your hiding spot, smiling sympathetically as his hand around your neck kept you from looking away. "I'd been extremely busy with classes lately, had to turn down some jobs," you sighed, wiping at your eyes, realizing that you must look quite the mess with the mascara stains that painted your cheeks. "A lot of jobs," you added quite bitterly as you looked up at him carefully. "I'd fallen behind on rent and didn't notice how behind I was until I got home to find red tape and a very terrifying letter on my door."

"You got evicted?" James asked to be sure, and you nodded with a frown, embarrassed by the entire situation, not used to not being on top of things, not used to screwing up something so important, not used to not knowing what to do next.

"I didn't know where else to go," you admitted with a little shrug, looking down to his chest where you fiddled with his buttons, his eyes softening as he rubbed your back lightly. "You're pretty much all I've got," you added in a near whisper and James couldn't help himself as he pulled you closer to him, kissing your forehead as your arms snaked around his neck.

"My love," he hummed as if he didn't know what to say, even though he knew exactly. The two of you had decided to take things slowly, especially for Harry's sake, but James knew how much you meant to him, knew he'd do anything for you, anything to make you happy, make you feel safe. Selfishly, he was quite intrigued by the idea of having you here with him, having you in his arms this casually, like you belonged there, and he hoped that your little admission meant that you felt the same. "You could always move in here with me, you know?" he mused, and you could tell the meaning behind his words, could tell he was holding back a smidge of excitement that you were here in the first place.

"Jamie," you smiled, his own lips tugging at the corners, a slight accomplishment in prompting the little gesture from you.

"In the spare room, of course," he defended, and you had to bite back a giggle. "Though, I'd be lying if I said that I wouldn't want to keep you here in my bed with me," he added and you shook your head, warmth spreading into your cheeks as he squeezed your waist.

"You really want me to stay with you? You don't think it's too soon?"

"Y/n, you spend most of your time here anyway," he paused. "And as far as Harry and I are concerned- you're pretty much all we've got too," his voice was softer that time and you smiled, looking up at him with almost dreamy eyes. "You're our girl, and I wouldn't have you anywhere than right here with us."

"Your girl, huh?" you teased, and he scrunched his nose, hands flattening your hair as he leaned in to kiss you quickly. "You're my boys, James, I'd love to stay here if you want me to."

"Right here?" he suggested with a raised brow, laughing when you hit his shoulder lightly, rolling your eyes as he pulled you onto his lap.

"Right here," you surrendered, utter bliss spreading through your body as he settled his head in the crook of your neck, nipping lightly at the exposed skin as your hands fell into his hair.

"Welcome home, angel," he muttered before his soft lips continued with the task at hand.

all fandoms taglist: @scandalous-chaos @oliverwoodmarrymepls @the-blue-forest