#james goes buzz buzz

[pharawee]

Are we happy all Element guys left Starhunter? I wonder if Bank Thanathip will now be permantly signed to No1r. Hope the rest find good new homes.

I was just about to make a post about this.

Star Hunter choosing to barely promote or use Element (or their individual members as actors) in the two years since their debut (to the point where people weren't even sure if they had disbanded or not) is peak Star Hunter clownery. I'm not even sure why they announced all of these BLs last year and didn't just idk... cast their own talent in it.

Negl I'm kind of glad they ended their contracts. I hope it works as well for them as it did for Bas, Dun, Copter, Pon and Jet.

[poetskings]

@jegulus-microfic | April 18: sock | 1.6k

James is sexiled and decides to spend time with Regulus.

There’s a sock on the door knob.

It’s been a long day and James is tired and there’s a fucking sock on the door knob and if he listens close enough he can hear soft grunts.

He’s happy for Sirius and Remus, really, he is, he just wishes that they’d fuck at Remus’ every now and then, and at least keep it to the bedroom.

Sirius and James share a college flat with Peter, Marlene and Lily, so there aren’t many options when they’re all out. Today,  James knows that Peter and Lily have chess club, and Marlene’s training for the women’s boat race, so it’s only him who’d be around.

He sighs and turns around, sending Regulus a text as he goes.

Been sexiled – your dorm free?

He’s walking before he’s received a response – he’s almost positive that the answer will be ‘yes’, and he hasn’t seen Regulus in a week, so they’re long overdue a catch up.

Their friendship was one of the more unexpected things to come out of Regulus bucking centuries of Black tradition and instead following in his brother’s footsteps, choosing Cambridge over Oxford. He settled in nicely to Corpus Christi, flying through his first few years as a history undergraduate while Sirius and James chose Trinity instead.

It took a while but slowly and tentatively Sirius and Regulus attempted to heal their relationship, strained by Regulus’ years at Harrow after Sirius packed up and left when he was sixteen, dropping out and enrolling at a local state school instead. They’re much better now; their barbs at each other aren’t quite as jagged. There’s love there, now, rather than just animosity.

As Regulus and Sirius attempted to mend their relationship, James and Remus had been called in early on to mediate, or sometimes it was Regulus’ friends, Evan and Barty, or even Pandora. From those early tentative meetings in neutral territory, new and interesting friendships bloomed, most of all between Regulus and James.

From early study sessions, it evolved into coffee dates and library outings, and when Remus and Sirius sorted their shit out it became even more frequent – the pair never make James feel like a third wheel, but nonetheless they deserve time to themselves, even if James would prefer for them not to fuck on every and any available surface in their dorm.

Regulus is a comforting presence for James; he doesn’t demand anything of him. James is naturally an extrovert; always the centre of a room, but sometimes he needs to recharge, and Regulus lets him do that. He reminds James of calm waters on a spring day, and whenever James needs to quiet his mind, he finds the youngest Black. He only hopes he offers Regulus some of the same comfort in return.

That, and maybe something more. Maybe he hopes that one day there’s a sock on his door knob, and that the reason is Regulus..

James is drawn out of his thoughts as his phone dings.

Sure – text me when you’re here, will come meet you

It’s a five-minute walk but James makes it there in two, calling Regulus to get him to buzz him in. He’s a familiar figure amongst the second years at Corpus, and he’s pretty sure a few of them will have also texted the youngest Black to alert him to James’ presence.

The college door opens and Regulus emerges, dressed in sweatpants and a Trinity rowing sweatshirt that James left last time he was over. He’s so lovely, James thinks, an impulse he doesn’t know how to control; isn’t sure he wants to control it.

“Sexiled, huh?” Regulus holds the door open as James steps through, falling into step with each other and walking up a flight of stairs to reach Regulus’ dorm. It’s empty, although that isn’t uncommon for Regulus. Barty and Evan hold unsociable hours, and Regulus, Pandora and Dorcas have a frankly insane amount of extracurriculars to attend, so they’re rarely together.

“There was a sock on the front door and I’m pretty sure I could hear noises so I didn’t want to risk it,” James says, settling himself in the kitchen, finding Regulus’ mug and a new one with a deer in glasses; a ‘congratulations’ for James’ performance in the inter-college boat races that’s become a permanent fixture in Regulus’ dorm.

He locates the teabags; Yorkshire for James, organic for Regulus, before turning back to the mugs.

“I don’t blame you – those two seem to spend more time fucking than not – it’s a minor miracle they get any work done,” Regulus chuckles, gently bumping James’ hip to get to the fridge, taking out his oat milk and James’ rice milk.

They settle into the routine like it’s second nature; they’re familiar with each other in a way that’s almost intimate. They stand together waiting for the kettle to boil, perhaps a bit too close for it to be entirely platonic, but James isn’t going to move away if Regulus doesn’t.

He always feels like they’re teetering on the edge of something more than what they are, something better, but for all of James’ bravery, he isn’t sure how to make the next move, and he doesn’t want to wreck this peace that Regulus and his brother have been working so hard on.

“So, how was your day?” Regulus asks, tilting his head to better look at James. He looks unbelievably soft in James’ jumper and James thinks that if he just moves his pinkie he can link it with Regulus’.

“Exhausting. I had rowing first thing and a few readings to do for my supervision that I’d completely missed,” James sighs. He loves his degree but he’s never been as organised as Regulus, who seems to have work done almost before it’s set. “Also, I spent a solid ten minutes looking for that jumper.”

A light blush creeps up Regulus’ cheeks at that. “Sorry, you left it here after practice last week so I washed it but completely forgot to text you.”

A smile falls across James’ face. “You’re fine, Reg, and besides, it suits you. I guess I should get myself a Corpus one to match, huh?” He smirks as the red of Regulus’ cheeks becomes more pronounced.

The kettle whistles and Regulus turns away from James to fill their cups. “James Potter, behave yourself.” He hip checks James again, this time with a bit more force. Except he doesn’t move back. He stays there, leaning against James, and James feels like his entire body’s a livewire.

The tightrope they’re walking is getting more taut, and James finds himself eager for the fall.

“But Regulus, dearest, where’s the fun in that?” He leans forward, entirely too close for it to be platonic, and Regulus is turning, turning-

“Ow! Fuck!” James forgot about the fact that Regulus was holding a kettle of boiling water, and he’s paying for that now. Water splashes over the counter as Regulus rushes to put the kettle down, taking James’ hand and leading him over to the tap.

He turns the cold water tap on, letting it flow over their entwined hands. He is too still, too silent, and James wants to go back to where they were. He wants the tightrope back. He wants to fall.

He can be brave, he thinks, if it means he gets to have something with Regulus.

Regulus is staring intently at their entwined hands, like it’s the most fascinating thing in the universe, and James breaks the silence.

“Reg-”

“What are we doing, James? We’ve been tiptoeing around each other for weeks and it’s driving me insane and I want to be around you all the time and I think I’m already half in love with you so I’d love if you can clear up what this is,” he states, false bravado injected into his tone, but James can hear the tremors. He’s so nervous, but so brave. Regulus Black, the Lion Heart.

It takes a while for the words to register in James’ head.

Oh.

Oh.

James removes his hand from the running water, ignoring the slight sting and the inevitable burn that will be left. He cups Regulus’ cheek, forcing the younger boy to look at him. Regulus is terrified, but so hopeful.

“Reg, I- I want-” James runs his hand through his hair in frustration. He can’t get his words out.

“Jamie?” Regulus’ voice is so soft, as though he’s worried he’ll scare James off, and the only thing James can do is kiss him.

Regulus’ lips are rough, a bit chapped from where he nibbles on them when he’s nervous. He tastes of tea and cinnamon and James wants to devour him. There is nothing soft about it. James’ tongue darts out, soothing Regulus’ lips, and the younger boy lets out a moan that’s pure filth and ecstasy and James is falling, falling, fallen.

He wants to do this forever.

His hands find their way to Regulus’ waist, tracing the skin underneath the Trinity sweater that’s been driving James insane since he first saw Regulus wearing it. It’s his, it’s him.

They break apart to breathe and James attaches his lips to Regulus’ neck, marking, claiming. He can’t think beyond this moment, beyond the boy in front of him.

“Jamie, we should- we need to-” he cuts himself off, broken sighs escaping his lips as he tangles his hands in James’ hair.

James reluctantly removes himself from Regulus’ neck, taking the boy’s face in his hands. “Do you want this, Reg? Do you want me?”

Regulus’ eyes trace James’ face, and whatever he sees softens him.

“Always, Jamie.” And James is lost.

They’ll talk about it later, as the sunlight paints the walls of Regulus’ room, but this is enough for now. For ever.

And if Barty finds a sock on the door knob when he comes back from the library, well, that’s between him and Regulus.

[moonstruckme]

I absolutely adore your roommate James series! It’s so tender and soft and sweet and it feels like the literary version of a hug 😭 you nail it every time!

Thank you sweetness!!! I am giving you a hug actually <3

cw: threatening with a weapon

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 │ part 4 │part 5 │ part 6 │ part 7 │ part 8 │ part 9 │ part 10

roommate!James x shy!reader ♡ 1.2k words

Things have come to a point where James needs to admit to himself that he likes you as more than a friend. 

The problem is, he likes you as a friend so much. He’s no stranger to the dilemma of risking a friendship for something more, but he’s not a teenager anymore and you’re not Lily. James knows he wouldn’t be able to play it off as a silly, harmless crush with you. And, really, he wouldn’t want to. You bully your way into his thoughts all day long. Your sweet voice, the way you talk with your eyes, tiny moments like the way your lips parted when he’d first slipped and called you sweetheart. You’d schooled your expression into teasing exasperation almost immediately, but there had been a softening in your eyes that made him impatient to do it again.

If he told you all that, James would probably come home to find all your things gone. You can barely handle it when he tells you you look nice. He doesn’t want to lose you. 

So, against his wishes and all his instincts and proclivities, he’s going to let it lie. James wants to be your friend more than he wants to discover what else you could be together. He can love you this way, too. 

That doesn’t do anything to deaden the thrill that goes up his spine when he picks up his phone and hears your voice on the other end, though.

“James?” 

“Y/n?” He checks the number on his phone. It’s not in his contacts. 

“Yeah. Um, are you—are you busy?” There’s a wobble in your voice. James’ heart drops straight down to his stomach. 

“I’m not,” he says, stopping short of the field where his teammates are gathering and turning back towards his car. “Is everything alright?” 

“Yeah.” It’s clearly not, but he was silly to ask. Of course you’d say that. “I just, if you’re free, I was wondering if you could maybe pick me up?” 

That wobble hasn’t gone from your voice. James’ heart trembles in solidarity. 

He gets back in his car, starting the ignition with perhaps a tad too much force. “I’m on my way,” he promises. “Where are you, what’s wrong?” 

“I’m outside the Waterstones on Manor Road, you know where that is?” 

“I know the one, yeah.” 

Your voice sounds held together by fragments. “I’m sorry, it’s far.” 

“Don’t be sorry,” he says, then regrets it instantly. This is hardly the time for a good-natured scolding. He turns out of the parking lot. “I’m coming. What’s wrong?” 

“I’ve—I’ve had my phone and wallet taken. I don’t have my key to the apartment.” 

“Taken?” James’ head buzzes like a TV turned to the wrong channel. “By who?” 

“A man, I—I don’t know. Um, I’m borrowing this woman’s phone, and I think I should give it back.”

His lungs feel small, panic choking him. “I’ll be there in thirty minutes. Be safe, yeah?”  

“Yeah.” A breath crackles through the phone. James wonders if you’d been choking, too. “Thanks, James.” 

“Just be safe.” 

The sun has dipped below most buildings by the time he gets there. It makes it difficult to see you, but James’ eyes work like a compass, finding your shadowy form curled up on the curb. The bookstore looks to be closed or close to it, no patrons walking by you as you sit with your knees bent close to your chest. 

You see his car pull up, and he’s halfway to you before you’re even standing. Your arms come around James as readily as his around you, your face squished willingly into the fabric of his workout shirt. Your breath seems to stutter out of you. 

“It’s okay,” he says, grasping the back of your head. He’s not sure if he’s talking to you, or himself, or either of you. He’ll tell whoever will listen. “You’re okay, sweetheart, it’s alright.” 

“Sorry,” you squeak. “I don’t know why I’m crying now.” 

“You’re okay,” James says again, just for good measure. His lips find the top of your head. “What happened?” 

“I think I was mugged,” you laugh. It comes out warped, completely unlike the sound he’s spent months chasing after. “This guy showed me a knife, and told me to hand him my bag and phone, and I just gave them to him. It was right out in the open.” Another jagged, heart-aching laugh. “I feel so stupid.” 

“Why would someone else mugging you make you stupid?” James lets you go enough to give you a little space, but his arms stay around you, his hand rubbing firmly over your shoulder blade. “Did you call the police?” 

You gnaw on your lower lip. It already looks bitten to shreds. “No.” 

He nods, taking a breath. James isn’t typically the responsible one in his relationships. He’s not good at knowing what to do. It makes him think of being thirteen and seeing Sirius all bruised and broken, feeling his heart break and knowing that he had to fix things despite the both of them being too young to have any clue how to deal with something so huge. James is an adult now, but he still feels too young. 

“Do you want to go home?” he asks you. 

You bite down hard on your lip, but your eyes gloss anyway. “Yeah,” you say, voice breaking. 

James pulls you close and gives in to treating you the way he wants to, kisses pressed into your hairline and tender words pouring from his lips. He gets you into the car and takes you home. 

Throughout the rest of the evening, you’re at once more reticent and more talkative than you’ve ever been. You’ll stare into the distance for minutes at a time, but then you’ll speak up, seemingly randomly, about some small fact you’d forgotten or a thought that’s been pushing at your consciousness. You tell him that you don’t think you could describe the man well enough to the police. That you have no concept of how long you stood around before you thought to ask for someone else’s phone. That you sort of wish you’d refused to hand yours over, because really what was the worst that could have happened?

“Well, he could have stabbed you,” James says.

“Yeah, but how often is that really fatal? And he might not have. It’s embarrassing, all he had to do was show me the knife and I turned everything over. I probably would have been fine.” 

“I don’t think you’re automatically fine if you’re not dead, angel. You were still at risk of being stabbed.” 

“I’d still have my phone and everything, though.” 

“I think you’re worth a bit more than that stuff.” 

“Mm, agree to disagree.” 

James does things he doesn’t particularly want to do—phoning your bank, filing a police report online, texting your landlord about a new set of keys—and several things he really does want to do. Once you’ve changed into your cozy clothes he practically swaddles you in blankets, putting a hot chocolate in your hand and that show you’re always watching on the TV. He makes you dinner, teases you until he gets a real smile, puts your mum’s number in his phone and texts her to let her know you’re okay. James touches you amply, lips on your cheek and hand smoothing the hair from your face and one knee pressing into your leg through the blanket. 

And you let him. 

[sommerregenjuniluft]

@jegulus-microfic april 1 - spring - 1340 words (of domestic bliss with little harry)

Sundays are slow in the Potter household.

One would think James doesn’t like the pace of it, always having to do something usually, always active, moving around or talking, tugging at his loved ones or caressing their skin, but he does. It hasn’t always been this way but with getting older and especially since they’ve become parents James had noticed how his body and mind welcomed the one break in the week to just shut off and recharge.

They’ve fought their way through a cloudy March and with the arrival of April, spring is finally here. 

James loves spring. People always assume it’s summer—and credit to them, because he does—but there’s just something about the rebirth of everything that comes after the long gloomy fall and icey winter period. The birds chirp with their return and in search for a mate, insects buzz lively and everything brightens with colour. 

Like clockwork, Harry appears in the threshold of the master bedroom at around 7 am, deer plushie in a tight grip by the antlers, his dark mob of hair messy as anything. He drowsily rubs the sleep from his eyes, face squished and James sometimes thinks he might die from how adorable their four year old is.

He grabs his glasses, pushes back the sheets and plants a gentle kiss on Regulus’ cheek where he’s still knocked out like the dead and smushed into his pillow.

Harry pads wordlessly into the living room, James hot on his trail. Though while Harry goes in search of a children’s book for James to read to him, James makes a detour to the kitchen. He fills them two bottles with the tea they let out on the counter overnight, preparing one for Regulus as well for when he wakes up. He cuts up some fruit and vegetables and grabs the packets of rice cakes and crackers from the pantry, loading it all on a tray before he sets on to the living room.

Harry is already curled under the big fleece blanket they keep there, grinning when James rounds the corner with their pre-breakfast.

“Morning, dada,” he greets, sweetly.

James’ chest swells. “Morning, pumpkin,” he returns, pressing a kiss into Harry’s hair, setting down the tray. Before he takes his place next to his son he walks over to open the big terrasse glass doors. 

“How’d you sleep?” James asks, plopping down next to Harry who immediately snuggles closer, plushie still in hand.

“Good,” Harry sighs contently and James can’t help himself when he brushes some of his hair back from his forehead and kisses him again. “Can you read to me?”

It’s a hidden object book but James knows what he means. He grins, “’Course, Hazza.”

They do just that for a bit, James describing what’s going on on the pages, creating a story for recurring characters. Skipping back and forth with Harry randomly pointing out another happening of the drawing while he’s munching away on his rice cakes and cucumbers and the occasional grape. 

It’s still mildly cool, especially when a faint breeze picks up, moving the grass outside and swishing inside but Harry’s still wearing long pyjamas and James knows he’ll tell him if he’s too cold. He simply burrows further under the blanket and into his father’s side. James runs hot anyways.

When Harry decides they’re done with books James puts on a nature documentary for them.

They’re teaching about the strength of some rainforest ant species when Regulus shuffles into the room, arms wrapped around himself and eyes nearly closed.

“Morning, Papa,” Harry whispers excitedly, already wiggling out of James’ embrace even though he knows Regulus will join them there in just a moment.

A smile tugs at Regulus’ lips as he blinks his eyes open, dark lashes fluttering agonisingly beautifully and giving way to soft grey. James swears they get a little more blue every time right around his birthday, like Regulus is just another subject to the changes of spring.

“Mornin’,” Regulus sighs happily when he squeezes Harry against his chest, peppering the side of his head with kisses until he pulls away, tugging Regulus along to James.

His eyes are already closed again when Regulus nuzzles into the crook of James’ neck, pressing a kiss there before he gets comfortable.

“Morning, love,” James murmurs, voice thick with adoration, audible even to himself, and he strokes Regulus’ exposed arm softly.

The spell of Sunday is thick in the air, heavy in their bones. 

Harry, usually the most lively child, always animatedly talking about something or the other, giggling, making jokes or doing mischief, is quiet now too. It’s routine, the way he grabs for Regulus’ arm and squeezes between his two dads, waiting for James to absently card his fingers through their hair and send them back to their slumbers.

It doesn’t take longer than five minutes before Harry’s breaths are deepening and it’s marvellous. Magical in the way that Regulus’ presence seems to calm him so much it pulls him back into another nap.

James smiles so wide, looking down at them like that for so long that his cheeks start straining.

He watches a bit more of the documentary, snaps a few obligatory pictures of them on his phone and sends them into their family group chat. Monty sends back a pixelated picture of a zoomed in shot of Effie in the garden, Sirius replies with a shaky snapshot of him running with the dogs and Remus answers with an aesthetically pleasing picture of what seems to be the breakfast he’s preparing for the two of them.

James’ belly growls hungrily at the reminder and when his gaze falls on the lone grape sitting in the bowl on the tray he decides it’s time for breakfast. 

It’s nothing short of artful the way he extracts himself from besides Harry and Regulus without rousing them before he heads for the kitchen.

He grabs flour and sugar, eggs and milk for pancakes, as well as the bacon, bagles and cream cheese. It’s meditative to put together all the ingredients, set the table and assemble syrup and blueberries and chocolate chips. Halfway through James remembers the leftover quinoa in the fridge and between placing patches of batter in a sizzling pan he whips them up a quick salad as well. 

The smell in the kitchen is divine and James has already made acquaintances with the joyful bluetit in the tree by the window by the time Regulus comes into the kitchen with Harry on his hip. He’s babbling now, talking Regulus’ ear off by the looks of it and Regulus hums and nods and gasps at all the right places, looking ridiculously endearing with his curls mussed and an imprint of the couch cushion lining his cheek.

“Morning, champ,” James teases, smacking a loud kiss over the line in Regulus’ cheek.

Regulus growls quietly, grinning despite himself, “You’re lucky I love your cooking so much.”

“Yeah, you’re lucky,” Harry parrots, grinning widely.

James tuts with faux affront, “What kind of sentiments are you teaching our poor child, Regulus. I’ve been standing in this kitchen for hours now. How about a ‘Thank you, daddy’?”

“Thank you, daddy,” they both reply in unison though Regulus’ has a decidedly different tone to it that makes James point the spatula at him in warning.

Regulus just smirks before he leans heavily into James’ side and rips a piece of pancake off of the ones already on a plate, blowing on it before dividing it in half and feeding it to Harry and himself.

James tasks them with setting out glasses of water and orange juice, mugs for tea. On Sundays coffee is banned in the Potter house. Regulus thinks he can wind himself out of his caffeine addiction that way.

When everyone is done and everything is in place they all sit down together, legs tangled under the table, smiling warmly at each other over their plates of delicious food, the spring breeze ruffling their hair and clothes pleasantly as it drifts through the open window.

[ddejavvu]

can you write nsfw a and k for James please <33

request a letter of the alphabet for your favorite character!

this post is 18+, minors dni.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

james is a big loverboy, but he's sleepy too. he fucks until he can't anymore, so he's spent after sex and wants to fall asleep. he won't leave you hanging though, he'd never. it just means that his eyes are droopy and he's moving kind of slow when he cleans you up, and he presses the stickiest, smooshiest kisses to your face while you whimper at the slight sting. he likes resting his entire body weight on you afterwards to fall asleep, but he's really careful not to hurt you if you might be sore. he's a big skin-to-skin contact kinda guy, so you're not escaping his arms for the rest of the night, or his thighs that he wraps around you to make sure you can't sneak away

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

i'm gonna say creampies. i know everybody likes a good creampie, but there's something special about it for james. it's far more intimate, it's not something he gets to do very often, or maybe you do it all the time and he gets drunk off of it. if you let him hit it raw he'll bust the fattest nut there's ever been. i wasn't kidding when i said he's a skin-to-skin kinda guy, and that goes for penetration as well. the feeling of your cunt sucking him in with no barrier in between makes him feel impossibly close to you and he is a lover at heart who thrives off of that closeness. there's probably a fair chance he's got a breeding kink because of that, too, it's likely they intermix. something about you being left full of him, his cum leaves his brain buzzing for hours and hours after sex

he's got a big big big thing for you wearing his sports gear. not just the jerseys, either. he'll give you knee pads so that he can fuck you doggy style on shower floor of the locker room after one of his games. if you're imagining hockey!james or any other sport that requires a helmet, he likes seeing you wear it too. there's just something in his sports-addled brain that makes his dick hard seeing you in his gear

[wanderingsoul6261]

Thanks to the Dare

gif credit goes to thepalmofyourfreezinghand

James Beaufort x Reader

Synopsis: The group starts the night of a party by playing truth or dare. Someone dares James and Y/N to kiss, knowing that the two had feelings for each other but didn't want to act on them. Later on, after the group gets bored and stop playing truth or dare, they go down the line admitting confessions. Y/N admits that she has never had an orgasm. James wants to be the one that gives her, her first. Happy ending. Fluff.

Sorry if this is poorly written. I might come back to it in a few days and touch it up. Finished it at 3:30 am in the morning and feeling a bit burnt out.

Warning: 18+ SUBJECT. MINORS PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT. SEXUAL ACTIVITIES ARE DESCRIBED. other mentions include alcohol. probably some swear words

The party continued to bustle around the group of seven. Cyril, Wren, Y/N, the Ellington siblings and the Beaufort twins currently sat in the living room of Cyril’s house. Wren, Alistair and Elaine sat together, with Lydia and Y/N sitting together, and Finally James and Cyril. Some of them filled the furniture while others sat on other chairs or even the floor, in the midst of the game of truth of dare. 

Y/N was slightly buzzed, a glass of wine currently in her hands. A bottle of water belonging to her sat forgotten somewhere. She had attempted to keep herself hydrated while drinking throughout the night to alleviate the effects of the hangover in the morning, but that didn’t seem likely at this moment. 

Cyril and Wren were definitely well on their way to getting drunk, while the rest of them were being conservative about what they were drinking and how much of it. 

“Okay. Y/N. Your turn.” All faces turned to her at the sound of Cyril’s voice. She raised an eyebrow, waiting. “Truth or dare.” The last one she did was a dare, in which she had been told to sensually dance in the middle of the group. She knew for a fact that Cyril and Wren had taken a very specific delight in watching her. Alistair, Lydia and Elaine could have cared less, but she definitely didn’t miss the hint of a certain look in James’ face. He watched her, a small smirk on his face, as he watched her move and sway her hips. His reaction to it had definitely caused Elaine to be salty towards her ever since. 

Her eyes turned back to Cyril, her mind made up. 

“Let’s do truth.” 

“Ok. Is it true…” Cyril trailed off, likely trying to think of a good one to ask her. He always wanted to know the juicy bits of a person’s life. It didn’t matter who you were. “You fancy someone, specifically within this group of seven?” Y/N rolled her eyes, not surprised in the slightest that this was the question that he would ask. 

“It’s true.” She responded. 

“Who?” Wren piped up, leaning forward to match the same posture that Cyril was also in. The two focused their attention on Y/N, obviously very keen on finding out who she had the hots for. 

“That’s more than one question. You can ask it if I allow it the next time through.” She teased, taking a sip of her wine. Her gaze trailed over to James, who watched her with curious eyes. The smirk from several minutes ago was still pulling at his lips. Y/N put her glass of wine down as Cyril and Wren continued to whine. 

“Come on. You can’t tease a man like that.” Cyril said. With the way he was acting, Y/N wouldn’t have been surprised if he suddenly got on his knees and started begging for an answer. It would be embarrassing for sure, but Y/N figured that Cyril wouldn’t have wanted to be subjected to that kind of embarrassment, and Y/N wasn’t a monster. 

“I can and I will.” Y/N smirked at them. Elaine had only rolled her eyes from where she sat next to Wren and Alistair. 

It had taken several moments to get Wren and Cyril to drop the subject and allow them to continue. James and Alistair had actually had to step in, pulling their attention away from Y/N and to Lydia’s, whose turn it was now, and as they continued the game, Y/N had wondered if she was safe from the potential question that was likely to be asked, and for a little bit, she was safe. Both Cyril and Wren had seemed to have forgotten about the question, and pestered the others when it was their turn to do so, asking for truths and forcing dares. 

However, a certain Beaufort twin herself was a little curious on who Y/N liked,albeit she had an idea, and had therefore come to be the reason that Y/N’s peace and quiet was short lived. The Beaufort twin turned to her brother, a sweet smile on her face. 

“James.” A soft hum left her brother’s throat, his attention now solely on her. He sat forward in his chair his elbows settled on his knees, awaiting the infamous question. 

“Truth or Dare?” she asked. James looked around the room, giving his answer some thought. He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, tilting his head back and forth. 

“Putting alot of serious thought into this, aren’t you?” Y/N teased, a smile hidden behind her wine glass as she took another drink. His eyes moved to hers, a look of amusement on his face before James finally looked back at his sister, and thinking that no harm would come of it, gave her his answer. 

“Dare.” Her sweet smile had then turned into a devilish one and for the first time, James had wondered whether or not he should fear his sister. 

“I dare you to kiss Y/N.” The jaws of Cyril, Wren, and Alistair dropped open. Of all people to have asked that dare, they did not expect it to be Lydia. Elaine looked like she could have smoke coming out of her ears. Her arms were crossed and she looked upset. Everyone knew why, which is why it would be funnier if James actually followed through with it. 

Y/N hid herself, looking everywhere around the room but at the six people that were around her. It was her goal to avoid eye contact, especially with Elaine. 

James stared at Y/N, taking in her appearance. He knew Elaine was burning eye holes into him at that moment, but he never did care for her. James knew that she was watching and waiting to see what would happen, but had also known better to know that she wouldn’t make much of a scene. Sure, she would probably make a snide comment or two, and maybe even try the whole cliche “oops sorry, I didn’t see you there” and spill her drink. It was a classic and a go to for every jealous silver spoon female out there. 

Lydia was smirking, watching and waiting, just as Elaine was, but for a different reason. Cyril, Wren, and Alistair looked back and forth between the two, their eyes wide, but also waiting. 

James' eyes had bounced between the five before he turned his attention back to Y/N. She continued to stare at anything else but them. He knew that she was only attempting to avoid the wrath of Elaine, but he had already told himself that he would prevent anything from happening should Elaine try anything. 

He stood up, casting a look towards his sister, who only widened her smirk. With only a few strides, he had crossed over to stand in front of Y/N, eventually getting down on his knees to be more her height. 

She finally looked at him then. His eyes searched her face, looking for any telltale sign that she didn’t want this. Yea, it was a dare, but it didn’t mean that he was going to do anything first without making sure that he had her consent. So far, she showed him nothing. 

“If you don’t want to do this Y/N, we don’t have to.” Elaine snorted from somewhere beside them, and James had only rolled his eyes. Y/N stifled an amused laugh, the corner of her mouth quirking up. 

“No one is saying no.” She whispered, only loud enough for the two of them to hear. “Do your best Beaufort.” James stared at her for several seconds, before surging forward and capturing her lips into a kiss. His hands cupped her cheeks, pulling her into him, feeling relieved when Y/N leaned into it. One of her hands rested on his bicep, while the other came up to tangle itself in his hair.

Catcalls and whistles could be heard coming from Wren and Cyril. Lydia and Alistair had watched as Elaine stood up and walked away, obviously not liking the display in front of her. No one cared, except Alistair, who knew that Elaine liked James, but he himself wasn’t sure if she actually liked James or had just liked him for his name and the riches that came with it. 

“Alright you two, get a room.” 

James and Y/N finally pulled apart, breathing heavily as they looked at each other for several minutes before turning around to face the others. James remained seated next to her and the group, minus Elaine, had continued their game of Truth or Dare. 

However, eventually the group had grown tired of playing truth or dare and had resorted to making confessions that either no one or most people didn’t know about them. 

Y/N listened to most of the confessions that were being said. Cyril was held back in his earlier years of school, prior to coming to Maxton and meeting them. Lydia went a deeper route, confessing something about their parents and the family business. James had nodded along slightly with that, as if he understood where she was coming from. Of course he did. He lived the same life, and Y/N knew all about it.

Her eyes trailed down to their thighs, brushing up against each other ever so slightly. She listened to James' confession.

"I've never loved anyone I've been with. It's just been for pleasure. Especially Elaine." He looked at Alistair and apologized. "No offense." Alistair raised his hands in understand, having taken no offense from it. He knew how his sister could be. Alistair experienced it more than the others. "Although, there is one that I have my sights on." He admitted. Wren and Alistair went on to do their own confessions, Cyril jumping in to admit some more.

But Y/N had turned her attention to James. She looked up at him, her eyes tracing his jawline, the scar on his cheek, the way his hair fall in a soft manner around his face. She watched as his eyes moved to look at her out of the corner of his eyes, and Y/N watched as a soft smile pulled at his lips.

She ran the image of the kiss back through her head, glad that she was sitting, as she grew weak in the legs.

"Hey, Y/N." She finally turned her attention to the others, who all were now staring at her, James also included.

"It's your turn to confess." Wren stated. "You haven't made a confession yet.

"Goodness. You guys are acting like we are in church, and I just committed a sin." Some of them stifled a laugh while the other cracked a smile.

"Who knows. Maybe you did." Cyril added, wriggling his eyebrows. Y/N rolled her eyes, trying to think of something to confess.

Then she paused, her eyes trailing across the group. Many would see this as surprise, as she has sexually interacted with ex boyfriends or one-night stands. But they were never good enough.

"I've never had an orgasm." Jaws dropped open as she looked around the group, thankful that Elaine had walked away earlier in the night.

"What?" Cyril asked.

"I've never had an-"

"It was a rhetorical question, no need to answer it."

James looked down at her in question.

"Haven't you had-"

"I have. But none of the ones I did it with were ever good enough to get me to that point." She explained. "The sex was really poor." Lydia stifled a laugh, in which Y/N smiled in response. "Your sister may know more than she lets on." James glanced between the two, a twinkle appearing in his eye, a smirk upon his lips.

He then turned his attention back to the rest of the group, as they lost their minds at Y/N's confession. She found it amusing in fact, as both Cyril and Wren both refused to believe that her confession was the truth.

It was known that she slept with a few, mostly old boyfriends, but those boyfriends were boys, and didn't know exactly how to actually treat a lady.

--- SMUT BEYOND THIS POINT. MINORS, PLEASE DON'T INTERACT

After a little bit more time had passed, Y/N had stood up addressing that she needed to use the bathroom really quick. James watched her go, downed the rest of his drink, and claimed he was going for a refill. The others watched the two leave, suspecting that neither of them would be back anytime soon.

Upon walking out of the bathroom, Y/N had been pushed against the wall, looking up to see James. The stance he had over her made her weak in the knees.

"James?"

He leaned forward, keeping eye contact with her. James maintained eye contact with her for several moments, before he leaned forward some more, until his lips brushed gently against her eye. She shivered, and she could feel the smirk form on his lips.

"You want to know what an orgasm feels like?" He asked, his breath fanning hotly against the side of her face. And just like that, arousal filled her entire body. A low whine escaped her lips and James pulled back to look her in her face.

"Words, sweetheart. I don't know what you want unless you tell me."

"Are You making a promise, Beaufort?" His blue eyes grew darker with arousal.

"It's not a promise, love. It's a guarantee." After a few more seconds of the two staring at each other, they pulled each other in for a kiss. It was sloppy, and definitely spoke true to the moment and their desires. James looped his arms around her thighs, hoisting her up so she could wrap her legs around his waist. He made his way towards a guest bedroom, one that he dubbed as his whenever he stayed over.

James made easy work of opening the door and closing it behind him. He wasn't wasting any time. He wanted to spend as much time as he could, showing Y/N how she should be treated.

Y/N fell backward onto the bed with a soft 'oof', staring up at James as he stared down at her. She grew self-conscious, her cheeks growing red as she grew flustered.

"Absolutely gorgeous." He crawled onto the bed, pressing kisses up her neck and along her jaw. When he finally reached her lips, he pressed his hands against her body, slipping underneath her shirt and trailing softly across the expanse of her stomach. She gasped at the touch and James reveled in, moving his hands and helping her take the shirt off.

He sat back, taking in her appearance. She stared at him with hooded eyes, drunk with arousal. Y/N was an angel. A bright light in the shadows of darkness that he had hidden himself inside. She was a positive and happy thing in the life that his father had forced on him.

James brought his hands up to his shirt, unbuttoning it until he was able to slip it off and tossed it towards the floor, joining her own shirt. He watched as her eyes immediately moved down to his chest and stomach, taking in the appearance. She raised a hand, reaching out for him.

Taking her hand, she pulled him back on top of her, pulling him back into a kiss. His hands moved up her waist, one wrapping around her back and unclasping her bra. It joined their shirts on the floor. His hands grabbed her boobs, his thumbs rubbing her nipples.

She gasped into his mouth, arching her back as he grinded against her.

"If we are going too fast, we can slow down."

"What if I like it fast?" A low groan rumbled in his chest. He felt her smirk against his mouth, and grinded into her again, instantly turning the smirk into a whine.

Her hands went down and started messing with the buttons to his pants. When it proved a bit difficult, and she couldn't get it undone, she stopped.

"Help, please." James huffed out a soft chuckle, before sitting upright and doing it for her, shucking his pants down his legs as Y/N took the time to take hers off as well. He leaned back down to kiss her again. The kiss was sloppy and heated. James grabbed her thighs, looping them around his waist as he started to grind against her again. Y/N's head fell back against the bed, a low whine falling from her throat as James watched her, taking in her reactions and drowning in him. He wanted to absolutely ravish her.

His head fell into the crook of her neck, enjoying the noises that fell from her throat as he pressed lingering and bruising kisses to her neck and shoulder.

"James." She gasped out. He let out a hum.

"Yes, sweetheart." He spoke between kisses.

"I-fuck" she let out a noise mixed between a gasp and whine when he grinded particularly hard against her. "Need you." He pressed another kiss to her lips before he moved down her body, taking in the sigh she released. James kissed down her body, maintaining eye contact with her as he did so. His lips pressed softly against her stomach, trailing down to her thighs. James let his fingers run over her body, trailing softly and causing her to shiver beneath him, goosebumps forming on her skin.

"I got you sweetheart." He murmured softly against her thigh. His hands looped gently into her panties, pulling them down her legs and tossing them onto the floor as well. James looked up at her, making sure that she was okay to continue, and if the look of pure bliss and arousal on her face wasn't enough to tell him to continue, he wasn't sure what would.

Y/N pulled him back up to her as he slipped two fingers inside of her. He started slowly, thrusting his fingers in and out, letting her adjust to the sensation. She had pulled him into another kiss, this time slower than the first ones. Her arms were wrapped around his shoulders.

One of his hands had one of her legs folded and pushed towards her chest. His thumb rubbed her clit, drinking in the gasps that she let out as they kissed. He leaned into the kiss, putting a bit more force into it as he quickened the pace with his fingers.

When his chest starting to burn, telling him that he needed to breathe, he pulled away and looked down at where his fingers disappeared inside of her. Her own eyes followed his, soft whines and whimpers falling from her lips.

James dipped his fingers down to where his fingers disappeared inside of her pussy, replacing his thumb with his lips. A gasped escaped her chest, and her back arched, a whine getting stuck in her throat and her breathing picked up. James was drowning in her, flicking his tongue against her clit, watching as she slowly became unraveled beneath him.

"That's it sweetheart. Such a good girl." He murmured quietly. After a few more seconds, he pulled his fingers out of her. James scooted up, listening as she whined at the loss. He knew she was close to an orgasm and that he had denied it to her.

"You still want to do this?" he asked. Y/N nodded, and James used his mouth to rip open a condom, sliding it on. He pressed the tip to her pussy, giving her a few seconds before he started to slowly push inside of her. She let out a gasp and he stopped, allowing her to adjust before he continued again, until he was finally all the way inside.

James proceeded to give her some more time to adjust, before he started to thrust in and out. Immediately, he had gotten her to the point where she was before he withdrew his fingers. Soft whines and whimpers escaped her throat and mixed with the grunts and groan that he let fall from between his lips. Her arms wrapped back around his shoulders, and he had looped her legs around his waist.

His head fell into the crook of her neck, groaning at the feeling of her around his cock. James never wanted to leave this moment, especially after he had been thinking about this moment for so long, and it had turned out better than he had previously expected.

"Fuck, Y/N." He captured one of her boobs in his mouth, his tongue flicking over the nipple while his other hand fondled the other. His free hand come down and vigorously rubbed against her clit.

She let out a sharp gasp, her head falling back against the bed, her back arching, and nails digging into his back. He let out a grunt, pulling his face away from her boob to watch as his cock disappeared in and out of her. Her breathing had begun to quicken, her whimpers and whines had turned into soft gasps.

James turned his attention to her.

"That's it sweetheart. You're almost there aren't you? You feel it building up." He spoke softly to her, watching as she nodded, and quickened the pace of his thrusts. He watched her every reaction. The way her eyes clenched shut, her thighs clamped around him. He felt her nails dig into his back, and even if it might hurt in the morning, he didn't care.

And then suddenly she let out a sharp gasp, her eye lids fluttered and then her eyes rolled to the back of her head. She let out high pitched whine, before it was as if she forgot how to breathe. Her body shook and as her pussy clenched around his cock, it threw him over the edge as well. Pleasure filled their bodies as they reached orgasm, their noises filled the air before they finally quieted down, and soft sighs and heavy breathing filled the room.

James threw the used condom into the bathroom trash, and came out with a warm wet washcloth, with the intention to clean Y/N, and after doing so, he crawled into the bed with her.

She immediately scooted closer to him, nestled close to his chest. James wrapped his arms around her, pressing a gently kiss to the crown of her heads. And just like that, the two of them laid in silence, taking in the post coital bliss.

Y/N drew lazy patterns against his chest, when she finally spoke.

"I don't want this to be a onetime thing." James took in what she said, a smile forming on his face as he wrapped his arms tighter around her. His hand rubbed lazily up and down her back, taking in the feeling of her being pressed up against him.

After several moments, he lifted Y/N's face so that she was staring at him. His eyes searched for any signs of a lie in her own, and when he saw none, he pulled her in for a soft and gentle kiss.

"Me too. It was always going to be you, Y/N. I want you, and no one else."

----

@sillyfreakfanparty @honethatty12 @lifeonawhim @ashamedtobewhitemanswhore27 @maryvibess @wheredidmyeyesgo @imasimptoowth @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @benbarnesprettygurl

[aismoker]

Be a GOOD boy

Tucker looked up from his work when his phone buzzed. He had received a message. At first he didn't recognize the sender: GOOD boy #79. The avatar showed a picture of a bald guy wearing a leather uniform with a big cigar in his mouth. His eyes seem to glow red.

Tucker was annoyed. It must be some kind of spam bot. But as he saw the number, he recognized it as the number of Connor, his best friend. As he looked better, he recognized the guy on the picture as his friend. He opened the message. It only said: "be a GOOD boy". Tucker was now very puzzled. Did Connor get some kind of virus on his phone? Was it some kind of joke? Barry was so occupied with the message, that he hadn't noticed that a file had started to download. Once it was finished, his phone shut down. Tucker didn't know what was happening. He started his phone again, but instead of the normal opening screen he saw an image of a red spiral.

"Shit", Tucker thought, he must have downloaded a virus. He tried to shut down his phone again, but nothing seemed to work. As he tapped frantically on the screen, the image started to change. A picture of bald man in a leather uniform, smoking a cigar appeared on the screen and then another and another. Tucker didn't understand anything of all this. What was happening to his phone? He looked at the screen. The images started to change faster and faster. He sometimes thought he recognized some of the guys in the pictures. Wasn't that James? And wasn't that the guy who worked at the gas station? He wasn't sure. By now, the images flashed so rapidly that his consciousness couldn't register. It was, however, in a way quite relaxing to watch the images. The longer he kept looking at the screen, the more he got entranced. He didn't even notice that text started to appear on the screen. He didn't even notice that after a while, he was starting to chant softly: "be a GOOD boy... be a GOOD boy... be a GOOD boy..."

Several hours later, the doorbell rings. Still entranced, he stands up and goes to the door. He ooens the door. He doesn't expect there to be anyone and indeed, the hallway is empty. He looks down and sees a big bag standing on his doorbell. There is a note attached to the bag. It says: "GOOD boy #137". He smiles. He takes the bag inside and opens it. In it he sees a pile of neatly folded leather clothes. He smiles. His uniform has arrived. He puts it on. He walks towards the bathroom and picks up his razor blade and starts shaving his head. He doesn't question his actions. He just OBEYS. It feels so GOOD to OBEY. Once done with shaving he grabs the bag again and takes out a wooden box. He opens the box. In it, he sees a rows of cigars. He softly caresses them with his fingers and picks one out. As instructed, he cuts the cigar and toasts it. He then sticks it in his mouth. He flicks the lighter and looks in the mirror. In a few seconds, he will be a GOOD boy.

As he takes his first drag and his lungs fill with the thick, creamy smoke, he feels a feeling of euphoria and joy wash over him. He is a GOOD boy! GOOD boy #137 takea another drag. The feeling intensifies. It feels so GOOD to smoke a CIGAR, so GOOD to OBEY.

GOOD boy #137 picks up his phone. The phone seems to work normally again, with the small differences that the red spiral with the cigar-smoking men is non-stop visible, like a transparent film over his screen. He takes a picture of himself and he uses it as his new avatar. He looks at his screen name. It said "Tucker". He frowns, he knew he had heard that name before, but he couldn't recall when. He tried to think, but GOOD boys don't think. He changed the screen name to "GOOD boy #137". He then uploads his photo to the spiral-file. He is a GOOD boy and everyone who sees the file should know it.

He looks through his list of contacts. He sees that besides GOOD boy #79 there are also GOOD boy #89, #103, #107, #117, #118 and #129. He smiles. So many GOOD boys already, but not enough. Everyone should be a GOOD boy, so he sends the file to all the men in his list with the simple message: "be a GOOD boy".

He then texts GOOD boy #137. "I am a GOOD boy now. Thank you!" Half a minute later, he got a reply: "It is so GOOD to be a GOOD boy! Come out and meet me at my place, we need to make more men into GOOD boys." #137 answers: "every man should be a GOOD boy. I'll be there in 5 minutes." He grabs a few extra cigars and walks out of his apartment. He smiles as he takes dep drags of his cigar. It is so GOOD to be a GOOD boy.

======================

EPILOGUE

Barry Johnson, head scientist at Big Tobacco international, a conglomerate of the largest tobacco producers worldwide, rushes to the director's office. There was no time to lose. He knocks at the door and without waiting, he opened the door and stepped into the office. "We have to stop the GOOD boy project! We have to use the kill-switch!" The director, sitting in his large leather chair didn't answer for a second. He then asked, calmly: "And why should we do that?" Johnson answers hastily: "The program is too powerful! Our estimations showed that it would affect about 200 men in the course of a month, but it has reached that number in a few days. The program's reach seems to grow exponentially!" "No worries, I have increased the production of uniforms already. We cannot have GOOD boys without thwir uniforms. I have also contacted the partners. They have increased their production to the max." Johnson is dumbstruck. "You did WHAT? You don't understand! I have to kill the program before we lose control!" As the director turns his chair slowly around to fave Johnson, he says: "No, you don't understand how GOOD it feels to be a GOOD boy."

The director had now a shaved head and he was wearing a leather uniform. He has a cigar in his mouth, in the other his phone. The phone emits a vague red glow, that is reflected in his eyes. Johnson backed away. "How?", he stammered. "My son Jason shared the file with me. He wanted me to know how GOOD it is to be a GOOD boy. "So, it got to you too," Johnson said, "the there is only one thing that I can do. I have to use the kill-switch" He backed further away from the director, until he hit the wall. "Odd", Johnson thought, he didn't know the office had leather walls. But then he realized he hadn't backed himself into the wall, but into Andrew, the 2.07 m high security guard who was into body building big time. "Andrew, thank God, we have to get out of here!" He looked up and his heart jumped. He saw a large cigar sricking out of Andrew's mouth. Plumes of smoke came out of his nose, covering Johnson. "It got to you too..." Andrew didn't reply to him. He simply mumbled around his cigar "be a GOOD boy... be a GOOD boy..." Johnson felt the iron muscles of the security guard wrap around him. He was trapped in a smokey embrace. Johnson tried to get out, but the other man simply was too strong. Andrew holding the head scientist with one arm, took out his phone and switched it on. A red spiral appeared. Johnson tried to look away from it, but only a short glance was enough to fix his gaze on the screen. He saw the images of men, wearing leather uniforms and smoking cigars flashing in front of his eyes. Inside his head, a battle was taking place:

"All those guys... all GOOD boys now... victims of the program... MY victims... all GOOD boys now... I have to help them... I have to kill the program... they know how GOOD it is to be a GOOD boy... I have to fight the program... be a GOOD boy... I have to think... GOOD boys don't think... I have to think of a way out now... GOOD boys obey... I have to think... GOOD boys smoke CIGARS... I have to... be a GOOD boy... be a GOOD boy... be a GOOD boy..."

[lenacosse]

hiii !!! could you please write about jake peralta, preferably smut with a dominant reader?:)

Successful

pairing: jake peralta x fem reader

cw: smut, dominant reader

wc: 1,541

a/n: hope you enjoy this, for anyone who’s left requests please bare with me. im writing here and there, ive been preoccupied and struggle to find motivation, ive rosa diaz, amy santiago, another jake fic and a james potter fic to come plus any other requests i have coming soon i hope :)

‘i just got some real good news from work boy

you can’t imagine what i’m bout to say

it’s so hard to hold back, baby

i’m so excited i can hardly wait’

════════════════

You nervously fix your skirt for the fifth time, smoothing it over obsessively trying to perfect your appearance. You knew it wasn’t going to change the outcome of your meeting but nevertheless here you were, panicking over the subtle crease of your skirt.

“(Y/L/N)?” Called out the friendly face of the sectary, “Mr Jones will see you now.”

You nod and stand up, you take a shaky breath and continue down the familiar path to your bosses office. Usually you were so confident, so sure of yourself yet this was no average meeting. This meeting would determine your future. You reach his office and frantically wipe your sweaty palms on your jacket in attempt to dry them, once semi satisfied you knock and open the door.

“(Y/N) please have a seat,” Mr Jones smiles, motioning to the seat. You sit down. “Im going to cut to the chase here, you are an excellent contributor to our team.”

“Thank you.”

“These last four years I’ve seen a real shift in our overall work environment, clientele, partners, work ethic and most importantly inner work relationships.” He smiles and gets out a piece of paper. “I’m not offering you the standard promotion. I’m appointing you head of department, this will be a rather enormous change but I see potential in you. You are the heart of my company and it’s about time you get praised.”

You heart has practically stopped at this point, never did you ever see yourself in such a role. It took all your willpower not to crack into an obnoxious smile that broke all professional expectations, instead you politely thanked him and signed your new contract. Getting to your car was a blur, but here you now sit in the parking lot grinning like an idiot. Of course the only reasonable thing to do was call your boyfriend.

“Hey baby, hope I’m not interrupting.” Your voice sounds.

“Nah, perfect timing just done a huge drug bust now we’re on our way back to the precinct.”

“Well done, who you with?”

“Rosa,”

“Hey,” a third voice said, you instantly recognised it as Rosa.

“Hi Rosa,”

“You had your interview right?” Jake asked, diverting the conversation.

“I did,”

“Well? Tell me.”

“I got some real good new. However it’s a surprise.”

“Oh come on! Tell me I want to know already,”

“You really wanna know? You’ll have to wait.”

“Fine. When are you telling me?”

“Tonight. Come straight from work,”

“Cool cool cool. See you then.”

“Bye.”

You end the call and drive back to home, you felt out of this world. Being so young and successful never felt so good, you were undoubtedly a baller.

════════════════

By the time Jake got off work you cleaned your apartment and got real dressed up. After all tonight was no ordinary night, you finish the last of your glass of wine as your buzzer goes. In an instant you buzz Jake in and wait by the door. The door opens and there he stands, wine and flowers in hand. You couldn’t control the shit eating smile that spread across your face.

“Hey you,” you stepped aside to let him in.

Jake handed you the flowers and placed a kiss to your cheek. “So… tell me. I’m dying to know.”

“Is that so?” You wink and make your way to the kitchen, placing your flowers into a vase.

“Yes.” Jake’s arms wrap around your waist pulling you into him, his warm breath on your neck makes you shudder.

“How badly do you want to know?”

“So badly baby, need to spoil you.”

You smirk and turn around, wrapping your arms around his neck. His hands naturally falling to your hips.

“You’re looking at the head of department.”

“Head of department?! That’s great. I’m so proud of you.” Jake gushed, the act making your cheeks flush.

“I get to boss people around.” You grin, biting your lip.

“Bet you’ll love that.” Jake teases.

“I will, but it’s just that.” You dramatically frown. “I need more practice.”

“Really?” He pulls you closer.

You kiss at his neck, sucking softly on the skin before licking a stripe to his jawline and moving to his ear.

“I think I lead you into my bedroom.” You whisper.

“I think that’s a good idea.” His voice soft and gentle.

You take his hand and lead him into your bedroom. In an instant you push him against the wall and begin to undo his shirt, after removing it you go back to his neck peppering kisses all over.

“Get onto the bed Peralta,” you order, your voice dripping with demand. Of course he obliges and sits on your bed.

You smirk and make your way to him, you straddle him and run your hand through his tousled hair. You slowly rock your hips, grinding up against him. A soft whimper comes from him.

“You’ve been so supportive, and so good to me. I’m going to treat you so well.” You whisper.

Jake looks at you, his expression was one you’ve never seen before. So utterly love stricken and submissive for you, the expression itself was enough to get you going but you had to regulate yourself. You press your lips to his, kissing him passionately as your tongues danced together. Slowly you pulled back and stroked his cheek before getting off his lap, you took a second to look at his lap, you bit your lip at the sight of his hard-on. You undone the zipper on your dress and dropped it to the floor revealing your lacy underwear and matching bralet.

“You’re so perfect,” Jake said as his hand reached out to bring you back.

You straddled him again and pushed him flat against the bed. You moved with him and groaned as he caressed your ass and thighs, the heat building between your thighs. You attached your lips to his collarbone, not holding back from marking him. This solidified your presence, the idea of him being yours was enough to cure your problems. You got off Jake’s lap and kneeled beside him, you undone his belt and he kicked off his trousers. You bit your lip at the sight before you, through his boxers you could see his very hard dick begging to be released. You palmed him through the fabric watching as his face contoured in pleasure.

“Please baby..”

“Please what? Need to talk Peralta.”

“Please use your mouth,”

You smirked in response and pulled off his boxers, his needy cock aggressively swinging out. Slowly you put your lips to his tip, you took half of him in your mouth and very slowly moved your head. You swirled your tongue gently over his tip then pulled back.

“Tell me how much you need me.” You teased as you slowly stroked his base, gentle moans falling from his mouth in response.

“I need you so bad, I’ve been thinking about you all day. Thinking about how much- mmm, I want your mouth on me, or how much I need to feel you around me.”

“Is that right?” You taunt, your voice thick with a tone of seduction. Your hand got faster around Jake, pleasuring him more and more by the second.

“Yes- fuck. That’s right- need you so bad.” His voice was a straight moan, a moan which you couldn’t help but be desperate for.

You lowered your head again and wrapped your lips around him, you hollowed your cheeks and moved your head. Doing exactly what he likes, his hands held your hair- only encouraging you further. His moans got more desperate and breathless indicating he’s close. You pulled back and sat up right. You took your remaining clothes off and straddled him again. Your lips went to his as your hand went into his hand. The other guided his cock to your entrance. You slid down on him and immediately started moving, you gripped his hair letting curses of pleasure escape your lips as you gripped onto the headboard. You looked down to Jake who’s eyes were full of pure pleasure and bliss, his desperate moans filled the room as did the sound of your bed hitting the wall.

“You feel so good,” you moaned, sending a chain of praises to your sex-drunk boyfriend. You rocked your hips faster the pleasure building increasingly as you chased that feeling.

You gripped the headboard with both hands as your whole body shook in pleasure. Your vision was spotting and your mind was foggy, the only thing registering was the ecstasy you were feeling. The coil tightened even further until you came with a deafening moan, Jake was right after you gripping your hips as his breath shuddered. Slowly you climbed off him and lay beside him. You looked at him, taking in his beauty, his eyes were glassy and his lips were swollen.

He turned to you with a bashful smile, “get promoted more often.”

You rolled you eye not fighting off the grin that was cracking through, you moved into him resting your head on his chest as your hands stroked his hair. Nothing but contentment overcame you, Jake was home to you and on days like this where there’s happiness there’s no one you’d rather share it with.

[bunnylovesani]

The Bratty Belle

Chapter 2

Summary: Your attempt at seduction and sexting goes awry when James friend zones you.

WC: 2.1k

It had been 2 days since your encounter with James at his house and his rejection had stayed on your mind ever since. In your flustered mood, you realise you’d forgotten to ask the man where he works - though you guessed he owned an establishment of his own since he was rarely home.

Before leaving, you’d given him those glazed-over puppy eyes of yours and asked for his phone number- just in case you needed a handyman or a bag of sugar. Neighbours should always be in contact, right? He hesitated for a moment, seeing right through your little pretence but he gave it to you anyway, likely out of pity.

The majority of your afternoon was spent longingly staring out the window, waiting for his elusive blinds to open so that you might get a peek in. Just as you were about to call it a night, you saw a light turn on in the front room.

“He must’ve just gotten home.” You speculate as you see him come into view, tired and rubbing his temples.

He takes a seat on an armchair in what you surmise is his bedroom and a devious idea pops into your head. How better to perk up a man’s mood than to give him a show? Remembering how he’d struggled to take his eyes off your cleavage the other day, you take your position in front of the window, silhouette lit up by the soft lamp behind you as you wait to catch his attention.

Nonchalantly, you pick up a book to appear otherwise occupied and peek out from beyond the pages to observe him. He’s too occupied talking on the phone to notice you- a very stressful conversation judging by his nervous pacing.

Imbued with the urge to be the centre of his attention, you put the book down and slowly remove your tank top, throwing it to the floor and leaving you exposed in front of the window in just your bra and panties. He must’ve noticed because he glances past and his head snaps back so fast you wonder if he’s given himself whiplash. You smile innocently and wiggle your fingers in his direction, flirtingly biting the tip of your nail. He appears to respond with a light smirk, briefly waving back before being pulled back into his phone call, hands swaying frantically as he argues with whoever’s on the receiving end.

Deciding you needed to take it up a notch, you trace your fingers to the hook and eye closure of your bra before disconnecting it, tossing it aside and uncovering your perky tits. You prop yourself by the window, seated on the chaise lounge beneath it and wait for him to take notice. Frustration growing, you consider abandoning your ploy before he finally looks out the window, catching sight of you laid out for him bare.

He glances at your tits for a while and then returns his gaze to your blushing face with a stony, disapproving expression. You sit up a little, spreading your legs slowly and bringing a hand up to knead your tit, pinching one of your nipples lightly. You see him mutter something down the phone before he assumedly hangs up and puts it in his pocket, taking a seat at the foot of his bed. He rests his elbows on his knees and holds his jaw in his hands as he stares at you intently, steely blue eyes penetrating you.

Remembering you had his number, you reach for your phone and compose a text:

What are you looking at?

You smirk as you hit send, watching him pull his buzzing phone out of his pocket to read it before he replies.

Oh nothing, just wondering what I should tell the cops when I have you arrested for indecent exposure.

Any sane, self-respecting woman would stop after receiving such a text- but you were neither sane nor dignified.

You think this is indecent exposure?

You shoot back, fiddling with the straps of your underwear as you test his boundaries.

Don’t you dare.

Your phone lights up with the simple warning.

With a mischievous smirk, you lift your hips and slowly peel off your pink panties, leaving you completely bare in front of the window. You sit up and spread your legs wide, soaking core on full display for anyone walking by to see. You see him shake his head and rub his face with his calloused palms, brows furrowing into a conflicted expression.

You snake your hand down and dip your fingers into your folds, rubbing your clit teasingly as your other hand composes another text.

Stop watching me you perv.

You bite your lip, sensually tracing your fingers over your bare chest and thighs before plunging two into your core.

This isn’t funny.

He writes back but he remains in his seat, refusing to peel his eyes away from the sight of you finger fucking yourself.

Do you see me laughing?

Your thighs press together, squeezing your hand.

No, I see you being a slut.

Your fun comes to an abrupt end when you see him get up and leave the room.

Guess that was too much for a pretty boy like you to handle.

You reply, feeling dampened and rejected once again. Why do you even bother? The unrequited feelings drove you crazy as you got up to drape a satin bedrobe around your uncovered form.

No, but it might’ve been too much for the whole neighbourhood.

Your phone chirps unexpectedly and you jump to scan it. The thought that your other neighbours might be privy to your little show didn’t particularly cross your mind, thoughts occupied with a desperation to be seen by him. Just as you were chewing over an equally snarky response, you heard your doorbell ring.

Somewhat hesitantly, you get up to answer the call, wrapping your robe tighter around yourself.

“How did you know which door was mine?” You ask, stunned to see a surly-looking James standing before you.

“I asked your neighbours where the bimbo lives.” He pushes the door open and lets himself inside. “The Porsche parked outside. Is it yours?” He quickly adds before you even have time to register his insult.

“It’s pink.” You point out plainly. Of course it is.

“Your tail lights are busted.” You roll your eyes at his obvious statement as you close the door behind you. Did he really come over to talk about your car?

“Yes, I know.” You snappily reply. There was something about him that brought out an unprecedentedly bratty side of you.

“Come by my shop. I’ll get them fixed for you.” So he must be a mechanic.

“Is that before or after you call the police on me?” You cross your arms, annoyed you didn’t get the desired response from him with your little stunt. He sighs and comes eerily close to you.

“Don’t do that again.” He huskily states in a low, quiet voice.

“Why not?” You crease your forehead in irritation.

“You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into. I’m not like the guys you’re used to.” He stares at you so intensely you wonder if he’s completely immune to the human throes of insecurity. “I can promise you don’t want what you think you want.” He intoned ominously, wanting to intimidate you but it only piqued your curiosity further.

“That’s my decision to make.” You lie your palm flat on his chest, feeling his firm pecs through the oil-stained button-up shirt.

“You’re just a kid. You don’t know what you want.” He murmurs softly, eyes fixated on your plump lips. You take his hand into your own and slip it under your robe, placing it firmly on your exposed breast. His thumb lightly grazes over your nipple and you hear his breath hitch for a moment before he quickly withdraws his hand.

“I’m seeing someone.” He blurts out. “I’m not interested.”

“You sure about that?” You drawl seductively, fingers slithering down to the growing bulge in his trousers, palming his length. “Then why is your cock so hard?”

A small groan leaves his parted lips and he bites his fist before taking a step back from you.

“Because a beautiful girl is standing near naked in front of me. I am a man after all. Doesn’t mean I want you.” He shudders a little, shaking the sinful thoughts out of his head.

“Thought you said I’m not your type.” You take a step towards him, backing him into a corner.

“You’re not.” He firmly asserts. “And you need to knock it off.”

Realising your advances had been rebutted yet again, you huff drearily and dramatically plop onto your sofa.

“Now, now, Bunny. Don’t sulk.” He tuts, leaning against the wall as he observes you curiously.

“Who is she?”

“Who?” He smirks.

“You know who. Your little girlfriend.” You cross your arms, a wave of jealousy coming over you.

“A colleague.” He purposefully omits the details, wanting to see you get worked up.

“Is she pretty?” You puff your lips out, looking away from him. He walks over to stand above you, lifting your chin up with his finger.

“Very.”

You were certain he enjoyed tormenting you, certain he loved to see the despondent look on your face as he instilled you with a feeling of woeful inadequacy.

“Why did you come here then?” You dismissively bat his hand away and turn your back to him, suddenly uncomfortably aware of how naked you were beneath your robe.

“Just wanted to offer my services, especially seeing how your car’s been mistreated. Poor thing’s got scratches all over and the tyres look worn out too. Does daddy not pay for car insurance?” He mocks, fiddling with a card he’d just pulled out of his pocket.

“There is no daddy.” You snap, tired of his assumptions. “I inherited the car after my mother passed.”

“Oh. Sorry to hear that.” He rests his hand tentatively on your shoulder. “Here’s my business card- it’s got the shop’s address and number on it. Come by any time.”

“I think I’ll be fine.” You push his hand away, pride sorely hurt.

“She’s a real beauty, I can teach you how to take care of her.” He nudged the card towards you persuasively. “C’mon, take it. I’m sure your mother would’ve liked to see her ride restored.”

You sigh and grab the card before throwing it stroppily across your coffee table. He’s right, she would’ve.

“Wow, you really don’t like being told no, do you?” He chuckles at your attitude and awkwardly teeters above you. “You need to learn you can’t always get what you want.”

“That only applies to other people. I always get what I want.” You huff back at him, fighting the urge to stomp your foot.

“Sorry princess, not this time.” He pulls out a pack of cigarettes and his silver zippo lighter. “You mind?” Before you can even protest, he’s lit one up and is taking a long drag.

“Yes!” You dramatically sway your hand around, dispersing the ring of smoke that surrounds you.

“You know Bunny, I admire your fighting spirit. It’s misplaced but the principle is there. You have to fight for everything you want in this life and I have a feeling you understand that better than most.” He blows a haze of smoke into your face.

“Yes. I do.” You splutter, coughing. He had no idea.

“Tell you what, come down to the garage tomorrow afternoon and I’ll fix your car up. Then I’ll take you out for a nice dinner, see if we can’t start over again. I’d like it if we were friends.” He professes earnestly.

“Friends?” You raise your eyebrow skeptically.

“Yes, friends. You heard of the term? Or do you try to fuck everyone you meet?” There’s that vulgarity of his you’ve come to know but not yet love.

“I don’t wanna be your friend.” You mutter, staring up at him with a melting expression.

“Ah, you’ll see I’m not that bad. I’ll grow on you.”

“That’s not what I meant.” You mutter quietly and he just observes you, an air of conflict hovering around him.

“I know.” He whispers, brushing his knuckles past your cheeks affectionately. “I gotta go, kid. Can I trust you not to flash any more neighbours?”

You stare at him sullenly, shoulders slumped and energy dampened. Your throat feels choked up and you can’t seem to form a response.

“Behave. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He declares and leaves your house as quickly as he entered it.

You’re not entirely sure why but a small tear rolls its way down your cheek and you gasp slightly as you reach up to feel the wet blob. You never cried.

Next chapter

Taglist:

@crazy4hotmen @erinkeifer @mortalheartache @arzua10 @mugwump327 @offthethirlwall @bby-imasociopath @slvttedoutmars @emmalandry @slut4starwarssmut

୨୧ If you want to be removed from the Taglist or only want to be tagged for certain fics, please let me know ! ୨୧

[hartsider]

“Animagus” marauders x animagus!reader | 777 words

Summary: after months of preparation, you're finally ready for your first transformation

No cw

Feels kinda choppy but I can’t be bothered. Not proofread.

You'll never look at a mandrake the same. Their leaves are so bitter.

Sure, it's been several weeks since you set your mandrake leaf into the vial with the other potion ingredients, but you can swear you can still taste it. You take a deep breath.

The vial is filled with a mouthful of blood red liquid, a potion that has developed in the dark without interference until this storm. You all had been buzzing all day. The weather-predicting charm that Remus had cast easily warned you all of the storm tonight, and as soon as you all heard the first lightning strike, James had retrieved the potion. Just as the spell says.

It was an odd feeling at first---the feeling of a second heartbeat alongside your own. But you soon got used to it, and by now it's as familiar as your own.

James, Remus, and Sirius all watch as you take a deep breath. This is almost ceremonial, the way that you have an audience, the way you're sitting with your legs folded underneath you on the floor, the way that this is going to be the last time you recite this incantation. The boys sit in a row on Remus’ bed, all waiting for you. They look about as nervous as you feel.

This is supposed to hurt. They didn't sugarcoat it. The feeling of your bones breaking and molding into different shapes for the first time is going to be painful, and there's nothing that you can do about it but grit your teeth and bear it.

Well, here goes.

“Amato amino animato animagus.” You say with the tip of our wand to your heart. For the last time, that double heartbeat appears. You think a quick goodbye to it before knocking back the small vial in your hand, swallowing the entire potion in one gulp.

It burns down your throat. The second heartbeat ricochets through your body alongside a feeling like your blood is on fire, and James reaches out a hand to stop Remus from going to you as you brace your hands on the floor. The pain leaves you gasping, and it only gets worse. Your bones creak and crack, and you feel every break.

But it’s over as soon as it starts, and soon you’re left panting through a respiratory that is both foreign and familiar. When you open your eyes from where they were scrunched, you see a pair of paws on the floor in place of your hands.

“How are you feeling?” Remus asks, tentative, and you look up at him. All of the color seems to have leached from your surroundings, replaced by muddy blues and grayish yellows. You blink up at him.

“She doesn’t look like she’s still in pain.” James grins, expression morphing from the concern that he’d been feeling since you had all sat down. There are a lot of ways that this could have gone wrong, something Remus had pointed out a few dozen times during the process. Sirius had taken on the task of attempting to quell his fears, having spent months pointing out that it would be a lot easier for you since James and he have already done it.

It’s odd to walk on four paws instead of your feet, but you test your strides anyway, making a small circle before walking up to where the boys sit. Sirius leans down to offer you a hand, and you sniff it for a moment before bunting your head against his palm.

“You're a cat.” Sirius informs you. “An orange one.”

You mraw up at him, standing on your back legs to brace your front paws on his knees. Remus reaches in front of James to rub behind your ears, and you lean into his hands as purring wells up in your throat.

“You remember how to change back?” James asks. He joins Remus in petting you. You rub at his hand.

After a bit, you go back to where your wand lays on the carpet, sitting beside it and picturing yourself in your mind's eye. You will your form to change, and it does, moving from cat to human.

Fatigue hits you as you pull your wand from the ground. James takes it from your fingers and sets it on Remus’ nightstand, as the others come to sit with you on the floor. Sirius takes your weight against his shoulder like it was made for him, and Remus kisses the palm of your hand.

“You did great.” Remus hums into your skin, the ridges of a scar on his cheek under your fingertips.

“Anything for our Moony.” You tell him.

[disaster-racing]

I don't usually do text posts, but I just have to ask - has anyone else noticed something strange with the Screaming Meals streams recently? James and Clem have been making some weird comments about Marcus, and they sound... a bit worrying? So I went back to their previous streams to check, and here what they said:

Qatar quali stream:

C: "We're trying, you know, to really promote this channel… trying to make it grow, got no idea what we're doing. And Marcus Armstrong doesn't wanna help us." J: "Yeah. To be fair, he doesn't have a say these days in what goes on his Instagram." C: "Does he not? Oh! That's true, I forgot about that. That is true."

C: "So, so, can you… is that the real reason, the fact that you haven't got enough devices, that you're not listening to our stream, or is it sort of censored in the household, per se?" M: "Yeah, the US has actually censored Screaming Meals, umm…" C: "Oh, see, I didn't think it would have been–" J: "Sort of a North Korea situation, is it?" C: (laughs) M: (laughs) "For obvious reasons, mate, for obvious reasons." C: "Yeah, doesn't seem to be the US, but err…"

J: (talking to Marcus) "I don't know about you but the last time I checked my bank account, fuck me, there was some… there's gotta be some numbers missing, but…" C: (closes eyes, laughing)

Qatar sprint stream:

J: "Marcus gets to the UK sometime in November so we'll definitely be filming some stuff in November, as long as he's allowed to. Um, then you can get some more pods."

Qatar race stream:

J: "Marcus says please call a bit later than lap 15, with an x." C: "What a loser! Just always skiving off work." J: "Yeah, why, like… I dunno, he's probably getting screamed at or something, I dunno." C: "Marcus is? Yeah… well, he has been under quite a lot of pressure hasn't he, recently." J: "Yeah… " … C: "No, he hasn't lost control of his downstairs. He has lost control of his credit card, though." J: "He certainly has lost control of his credit card. Anyway!"

C: "Marcus joining us as well for a short trip [in Brasil]. Interesting." J: "Yeah apparently we're not allowed to talk about that." C: "No, we're not. Good times."

J: "Shall we give Marcus another go?" C: "Nah." J: "Fair enough." C: "He was being his usual 'I'm too cool for you guys'…" J: "He was being a bit, wasn't he. He's probably on another sanction from speaking to us." C: "I think so yeah. Must be one of those sanctions."

Mexico race stream:

J: "I'm gonna give Armstrong a buzz." C: "No chance he answers." J: "I believe he's due to fly out 9pm Mexico time." C: "He'll be under heavy control. …has your number not been placed on the 'banned' list?" J: "Ah, no, this is a burner." C: "Oh, mine has. Mine has." […] C: "Quite a lot of restrictions to get in contact with Armstrong these days."

Q&A stream:

(talking about what they would buy if they had to spend £1million on each other) J: "Then for Armstrong… ummm, I'd, I dunno, I'd probably just help him pay off his credit card debts." C: "True! Paying off his credit card debts would be something. Definitely."

C: "Look, we've got Loraine with the hashtag Free Marcus." J: (snorts) "No comment."

And when Marcus was on the sprint race stream last night, he seemed a bit tired and low energy, quite different to how he was on the streams earlier in the year. Maybe I'm just overreacting, but I really hope he's okay and some of the things they've said aren't as concerning as they sound...

[calamitoustide]

June 1st: Stitches | jegulus | @taylorswiftmicrofic |wc 606 | cw: blood

“Quit being a baby.” 

James rolls his eyes, “You’re the one who can’t even look at my hand.” 

Regulus glances down only to grimace at the sight of the blood, even with a cloth wrapped around it. It was a stupid accident really. Regulus had to spend the entire time at his parents' house packing up all their old things in boxes and figuring out what to do with old antiques neither he nor Sirius would ever want. Emotionally the act of it wasn’t draining, but being in that house again certainly was. James wanted to go with him but Regulus declined, it was just going to be him and Sirius, and James respected that. He wanted to make dinner for him to come home to instead, one of his mum’s recipes. He called her that morning and everything making sure every detail of it would be right… and then well… It was already getting late and Regulus was going to be home soon so he was trying to rush. Then the blood spilled all over the cutting board and James couldn’t even register the pain of it all before Regulus was walking in. 

That’s how they got to now. 

“I don’t like blood,” Regulus mutters, even saying that he still lifts the bandage to take a look at the damage again. 

James just laughs at him, “Weren’t you pre-med?” 

Regulus sends him a pointed look, “Shut up.” 

“I’m just saying how did you expect to actually pass if you can’t stand the sight of a little blood?” James teases. 

Regulus shakes his head, “Do you want me to just finish the job and rip your finger off?” 

James reaches forward with his other hand so grab at his cheek, “You love me.” 

Regulus pushes him away, “You bug me.” 

James hums, overtaken by the concern on Regulus’ face as he looks back at the wound. He finds his thumb trying to push away the worried crease between his eyebrows. Regulus doesn’t slap his hand away, he lets him drag it down to his cheek. Regulus doesn’t look up at him again and he pauses, “What is it?” 

Regulus sighs, “You cut yourself,” he says, but it comes out more like a whine. Regulus will never admit it to anyone but he’s always the first one to coddle James. More so than James coddles Regulus which is actually a hard thing to accomplish. He’s always been the softer one between the two of them. He kisses James’ old scars and watches him with big wide eyes when he speaks. James wants to hug him. He wants to place kisses all over his face until he melts in his hand. 

“Yeah,” James laughs shortly, “I got that much.” 

Regulus doesn’t laugh along with him, “You’re gonna need stitches, James.” 

James scoffs, “It doesn’t even hurt!” 

Regulus looks up at him, pausing for a prolonged moment. As the moment goes on there’s a sharp stinging in James’ hand, almost like a buzzing in his ear he’d forgotten the sound of. It starts off small until it overwhelms him—it’s everywhere. 

“It just started hurting, didn’t it?” 

James bites his tongue, not knowing if he can speak without his voice straining, “Uh-huh.” 

Regulus laughs softly, “Come on,” he places his hand on his lower back as he guides him to the front door. 

James pouts, “You’re so mean to me.” 

Regulus rolls his eyes, “I’ll buy you a toy after.” 

James shakes his head as Regulus opens the passenger side door for him, “I want ice cream.” 

Regulus sighs softly, “Then you’ll get ice cream, now get in the car.” 

[theemporium]

could i request some post quidditch match win content w james pls?

of course, love🖤

.

James Potter loved winning. 

He loved the thrill as the final horn blared through the arena. He loved the weight of his teammates jumping on top of him as they celebrated. He loved the way the students, teachers and parents chanted his name. 

His ego basked in the victory, soaked it all in and let it just overwhelm him completely. 

But most of all, James loved seeing you after he won. 

By the time he made it to the common room, the adrenaline had finally simmered down and his limbs felt heavy as he dragged himself through the door. But it didn’t matter that he knew his body would be sore the next morning or that he was probably minutes away from passing out, because he had yet to see you and that’s all he wanted. 

The common room was full of students still on a high after the win, slapping his back and cheering him on as he walked towards the staircase that led up to the dorms. He knew exactly where you would be and his body was buzzing to find you. 

He shoved the door of his dorm room open with his shoulder and a heavy sight and almost instantly a smile grew on his face as he took in the sight of you lying on his bed, glad in one of his jerseys with a book in your hand.

You lifted your head up and grinned. “There’s my champion.” 

“Fuck, call me that again,” he muttered as he dumped his bag on the floor as gracefully as he could before all but falling onto the bed, head laying on your stomach with his body stretched over yours like a starfish. 

“Replacing the captain kink already?” you teased. 

“Hm, no,” his words were muffled slightly by his position. “We are keeping the captain thing, baby.”

You snorted, your fingers brushing through his curls that were still slightly wet from his shower after the match. “Noted,” you said with a small sigh. “I’m sorry I couldn’t come tonight. Sounded like a good game.”

“You’re sick, love, I wasn’t gonna let my girl stand in the cold for hours,” he grumbled and lifted his head, eyes softening as he took in the sight of you. “How are you feeling?” 

“Better now that I know my boy won,” you answered with a grin, watching as James’ cheeks went pink with the praise. “Aww, my pretty boy.” 

“Shut up,” he murmured as he tried to slap your hands away, only to really sink into your touch as you cupped his cheek. “Next game you’re gonna be there. And when I win, I’m gonna swoop you from the stands and kiss you in front of everyone.” 

Your eyes narrowed slightly. “You wouldn’t dare to, Potter.” 

His grin was boyish. “You should know better than anyone else that I would never back down from a dare.” 

You rolled your eyes. “You are unbelievable.” 

“And you love me still,” James grinned widely before settling his head back on your stomach. “Now shh, I want my victor’s cuddles.” 

“Only cuddles? Well, there goes my surprise,” you said with a theatrical sigh, holding back your giggles when James’ head snapped up. 

“What surprise?” 

“No, no, you’re tired, baby,” you cooed softly as you bit back your grin. “I’ll just save it for next time.” 

“Love, don’t do this to me,” James groaned, fingers fiddling with the hem of his jersey you were wearing and when he noticed your breath hitch, he raised his brows a little. Keeping his eyes on your expression, he dipped his hands underneath the jersey and slowly slid his hands up your thighs, only to freeze when he felt his fingers meet lacey material. “Fuck.”

“Wanted to give you something for your win,,” you murmured with a shy smile, watching the way his eyes darkened. “A reward...” 

“You have ten seconds to get this jersey off before I rip it off.” 

“Yes, captain.”

.

[moonstruckme]

Hey love, im back to plague you with another idea...

A situationship / budding relationship james x reader where shes the Black brothers sister, but every time one of them catchs the two of them alone they physically pick her up and just walk away with that menacing Black stare.

Tysm love x

Thanks for requesting sweetheart!

James Potter x Black!reader ♡ 911 words

“Do you really think this is the best place to hang out?” you ask James, eyeing the closet in his dorm as if you’re brother’s going to come popping out. 

“It’ll be fine,” he promises you in that optimistic, sure-footed way of his. 

From the way Regulus had talked about Sirius’ friends at Hogwarts, you’d expected James to be insufferable. Arrogant, entitled, the true embodiment of the mask your oldest brother puts on when he’s here at school. But you’d discovered when you’d arrived that Sirius’ goofy friend wasn’t the James Potter you were warned about. He was self-assured, certainly. Confident, but in the years you’ve known him it’s never seemed like anything more sinister than that. James doesn’t walk into every room like he owns it; he walks in like it’s home. He brings that everywhere with him—that feeling of home, of belonging. It seeps into you when you’re with him, and to your brother’s acute repugnance, you’re with him more and more these days. 

“Remus is off with Lily, and Sirius got pulled aside by coach after practice, so he’ll be on the pitch running drills for a good hour yet,” James goes on. He sits down on his bed, and you follow suit. “Plus, your dorm is occupied and this is the only other semi-private place I could think of.” His smile goes a bit sheepish as he shrugs, one-shouldered and boyish. 

You catch his meaning—the privacy carries implications neither of you are ready to act on—and you’ve got no reason to feel awkward about that but a nervous laugh fizzes up out of you anyway. “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” you admit. Though Sirius is far from unaware of this blossoming whatever between you and James, neither of you are keen on him finding out through the grapevine that you were seen canoodling in the hallways. Privacy is ideal. “So, I’m guessing practice went better for you than it did for him?” 

James shrugs again, the show of humility making you both grin. You can never seem to stop doing that around him. “Yeah,” he says, “practice for a seeker is pretty straightforward. Less strategy to it, so I guess I got off easy.” 

“You make it sound like Sirius isn’t just hitting things with a bat,” you deadpan, and he laughs. The sound feels like sunbeams shooting straight into your gut. 

“It’s a bit more complicated than that,” he hedges. “But hey, are you coming to the party after the match on Saturday?” 

“Is there still going to be a party if you lose?” 

James fixes you with a look. “We never lose, sweetheart.” 

Another giggle bubbles out of you, though the joke isn’t really that hilarious. You secretly love when James calls you names like that. It makes your heart do all sorts of funny, acrobatic things. You don’t love that it’s probably not so secret, and he can almost definitely tell. His eyes go warm now, a knowing smile playing on the corner of his mouth. 

“Yeah,” you say, “I’ll think about it.” 

“You should come,” he encourages, leaning his hands back on the mattress. You very pointedly do not let your eyes linger on his forearms as he does so. “It’d make me happy to see you there.” 

“You’re always happy,” you tease. 

“That’s because you only see me when I’m seeing you.” You must look confused, because James’ clarifies, voice softening slightly, “I can’t help but be happy when I’m with you, sweetheart.” 

The combined effect of the words, the tone of his voice, the sweet way he’s looking at you—it starts up more than butterflies in your stomach. There’s got to be a whole ecosystem in there by now, with buzzing bees and jumping frogs and everything. You look down, a half-hearted effort to hide the smile that takes you.

“James,” you murmur, lightly chiding. 

The door comes open, and your brother’s eyes widen as they take in you on James’ bed, his hand an inch away from your leg and both of you looking terribly caught. Then they narrow. 

“James Potter, zip your pants back up right this instant!” 

“Sirius!” you exclaim, and there’s no lightness to this chiding, your face heating with mortification. You glance at James’ zipper, just to be sure—and yup, it’s fully closed, everything contained—and then glance quickly away, horrified all over again that you’d looked. 

“We weren’t even doing anything,” you seethe, knowing your stare matches your brother’s as you glower at each other from across the room. “What are you even doing back?” 

Sirius rolls his eyes, utilizing that older brother’s insouciance he knows gets under your skin like nothing else. “It seems you’ve gotten turned around. These are the boys’ dorms.” His words drip venom onto the dull red rug. “I’ll be happy to escort you back to yours. Let’s go.” 

“No.” You set both hands on James’ bed, feeling ridiculously petulant. Sirius raises a brow as if to say No? but you ignore him. “This dorm is as much James’ as it is yours, and he invited me here.” 

“Pads,” James says, not quite softly, but mildly compared to the fiery tones you and your brother are throwing back and forth, “we’re just talking.” 

“And now you’re done talking.” Sirius shrugs, stalking toward you. You grip James’ sheets a bit tighter on instinct. “If I recall, you have a potions’ essay to write, and you’re not—ugh.” He grunts, wresting you away from James’ bed using a hold that’s worked since you were kids. James himself offers no help, other than a sympathetic grimace as you’re hauled off. Sirius fixes him with a cold glare in return. “You’re not getting that done in here.” 

“You are so immature,” you gripe as he starts tugging you towards the stairs, your feet barely skimming the ground. 

“We can talk about—oi, quit!—we can talk about who’s more mature when you stop pinching me, you prick!” 

[sommerregenjuniluft]

What about Regulus who always cums so quickly? A couple of stroken and clit rubs and he’s clenching down instantly

oooooooooooooooooh anon hello yes hi. correct me if i’m wrong i know next to nothing about the genitals of someone shooting testosterone but like. maybe he gets so much more sensitive once he gets on hormones and like bottom growth and all that. plus your libido increases so much as far as ive heard. PLEASE reg would be constantly horny!!!!!! james being all teasing about it. he got out of the shower all naked reg instantly makes a noise, physically Cant stop himself and james goes Aw babyboy what’s wrong huh? am i making ur dick hard? hm? so wet for me? and regulus is breathing with difficulty, arousal bolting through him and between his legs nonstop and he croaks out a James in warning but it sounds so pitiful and james tells him so. Oh, you’re so easy for me aren’t you? look at how you’re squirming, want me to touch you so bad, yeah? regulus moans, legs falling open immediately when james only touches his knee featherlight. he’s twitching so hard, making all these sweet desperate and overwhelmed noises as james trails upwards along his inner thigh. he slips a careful fingertip under the hem of reg’s lose boxers and it’s immediately Soaked. regulus is embarrassingly close and it only takes a few flicks and rubs for him to already cum. and james is all huge grins and amazed doe eyes, sinking to his knees and mouthing at reg over his underwear and it only takes a few seconds before regulus is cuming Again. he’s involuntarily shivering atp, buzzing but also overstimulated already yet still incredibly horny. james makes him cum two more times with his mouth and then makes regulus sink down on his hard cock. it’s so much and so Good finally being full after all those external orgasms that james thrusts up into him like 3 times and he is squirting, cuming once again. that makes james go so incredibly feral and keep fucking into him until they both cum together one last time and collaps in a sweaty but happy and satisfied heap<3