#im just knackered

[itsjaywalkers]

a lil smth under the cut for u guys (part 3) <3

(light nsfw)

part 1 part 2

“Well, it’s not perfect, but it’s decent enough, so it’ll have to do,” James says, and Regulus it’s too busy trying to keep his breathing under control to be bothered by the other man’s words. “Relax your shoulders a little, love.” 

“Don’t,” Regulus hisses, even though he isn’t sure himself if that response is because of the nickname, or James’ touch, or James’ closeness, or something else entirely. 

“Don’t what?” James asks, sneaking a hand up and massaging one of his shoulders until both of them sag. 

“You know what.” 

“I don’t even think you know.” 

Regulus huffs loudly, and hates that he can’t argue back. 

“Show me how you do a jab,” James requests, his hands returning to Regulus’ waist after one last press on his shoulder. 

Regulus clears his throat slightly, feeling a bit flustered all of a sudden while he raises his right arm and gets ready to do what James asked. He only hesitates for a couple of seconds before doing the punch, not as confident as he’d usually be after having James criticise him so much. 

He knows he’s no expert. He isn’t even that athletic to begin with. But he still has a boxer brother, which means he’s definitely not as clueless as James is making him out to be. 

Maybe if it were someone else, Regulus would find it in himself to fight back, defend his knowledge and Sirius’ teachings. But, as it turns out, having a professional boxer watching you try to punch is an incredibly humbling experience. Especially one as mind-blowingly good as James. 

Not like Regulus would ever tell him that.

James hums. “Not bad,” he says, and really, it shouldn’t satisfy Regulus as much as it does. “It’s a bit too slow, though.” 

Regulus tilts his head back, in an attempt to look at the other man, but he barely lasts a second after realising how fucking close both of his faces are. 

His heart beats wildly in his chest. He can only hope James doesn’t notice. 

“How so?” Regulus wonders, so relieved to hear his voice sounds completely normal. 

“Jabs focus on speed over strength,” James explains calmly. “It’s a matter of overwhelming your opponent, rather than properly hurting. The punch has to be quick, and once the arm returns, it’s gotta go up, protect your face. Like this.”

He grabs one of Regulus’ arms gently, moving it forward and then back very slowly, to demonstrate how to do it, and then fast, jostling Regulus’ whole body with it. 

“See?” James murmurs, and he could swear that his tone has gone lower. “You don’t have to worry about being strong enough. It’s all about speed.”

“Okay,” Regulus replies with a tiny nod, doing his best to concentrate on what James is seeing, and not on all of the points where they’re touching. Or on how close James is. Or how nice he smells, despite all the sweat—maybe even because of it. “I think I get it.” 

“Yeah? Wanna try again on your own?”

Part of Regulus wants to snark back, argue that it’s only a stupid jab and James is just being picky because he’s a professional boxer and it’s not like there’s an actual science to throwing a punch. But having James holding onto his waist must be clouding his mind, because he just gives another nod, and does his best to replicate James’ movement and speed. 

“Yeah, that’s it,” James breathes out, and Regulus can almost hear his smile. “Very good, love. You’re a natural.”

“Oh, I’m a natural now?” Regulus huffs out, but it comes out more teasing than irritated. 

“Or maybe you just have a great teacher,” James adds playfully, accompanied by a squeeze on his hips. 

“You’re right, Sirius is pretty great,” Regulus responds with a shrug, relishing in the way James clicks his tongue. 

“But I’m better.”

“In your dreams, Potter.”

“Wait, what happened to ‘James’?”

Regulus feels heat rushing to his cheeks. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

James chuckles way too close to Regulus’ ear, and his breath hits the side of his neck, goosebumps breaking all over his skin. Regulus has to swallow a very embarrassing and very needy sound before it makes it past his lips.

“C’mon, love, we were getting along so nicely. Don’t try to ruin it now.”

“You’ve finally lost it,” Regulus states, trying to laugh the whole thing off. It probably doesn’t work, though, considering how unstable he sounds. “There’s not a single universe in which you and I get along, Potter.”

“Liar,” James whispers. “I’m growing on you.”

“Whatever gave me away?” Regulus grumbles, sarcasm dripping from his words.

“The fact that you’re letting me touch you,” James murmurs, voice smooth and silky, feeling like a caress. “How you keep leaning against my contact, and catching yourself at the last second.”

Regulus’ breath hitches. “That’s—” 

“The way you’re not even arguing with me anymore. Not really,” James continues, unrelenting, his lips grazing Regulus’ earlobe and making his eyes flutter shut. “If anything, I’d even dare to say you’re flirting.”

“You’re delusional,” Regulus spits, too breathless to sound as furious as he’d like to. “The fucking audacity—”

“And,” James cuts him off, tone so frustratingly smug, “I bet you’re aching between those pretty legs of yours.” 

Regulus lets out an embarrassed noise, barely suppressing the urge to press his thighs together. 

“No,” he croaks out, shaking his head a little and face burning. 

“No?” James mocks him, pressing his smirk behind Regulus’ ear. “Shall we check?” 

One of James’ hands moves slowly, sliding from its place on Regulus’ waist to rest under his navel, fingers playfully caressing his waistband. 

Regulus hates how that mere touch is enough to turn his mind into static. To make his heart stutter in his chest, and the mess in his underwear almost unbearable.

“Potter—”

“No.”

Regulus’ eyebrows shoot up, and before he has the chance to ask, he feels James’ teeth at the side of his neck, nipping teasingly and dragging a fucking whimper out of him.

“What—?!” he begins, completely red in the face and attempting to move away from the other man for the first time since he allowed his touch.

James holds him tighter, bites down harder. “Behave, Regulus, or I’ll fucking make you.” 

Regulus doesn’t listen, despite how the tone of James’ voice makes him tremble like a leaf. He keeps resisting, an outraged sound leaving his mouth while his body betrays him and becomes even wetter. 

“Oh, you don’t get to play the clueless card on me,” James murmurs, his teeth giving way to a devilish tongue that turns Regulus soft and pliant, his attempts at freeing himself growing sloppy, lazy. “I always do my best to be patient, to respect your boundaries and control myself, but you’ve been a damn tease all afternoon, and I’m fucking done.” 

“What the fuck are you even—” 

“Enough,” James growls back, and it’s so commanding Regulus’ mouth snaps shut with a clack. 

There’s a beat of silence, and then James is laughing under his breath. “Good boy.”

It’s filled with mockery, bordering on mean, and yet, it still makes Regulus moan like a fucking bitch in heat, eyes rolling to the back of his skull and body going completely boneless. 

“Fuck,” James whispers, a mix between awed and devastated. “I should’ve known. I should’ve fucking known. Is that what does it for you, baby? You wanna be my good boy?”

Baby. 

Baby. 

Baby. 

Regulus moans again, even though it’s weaker this time, but he still shakes his head, or tries to at least, holding onto the last traces of sanity and refusing to let James win whatever twisted game they’re playing. 

“C’mon, you were doing so well,” James mumbles, tongue licking up the side of his neck. “And you can’t fool me anymore. Not like you ever did, but still. I know you wanna be good for me, baby. Know you wanna please me, let me use you in whatever way I see fit.”

He tries to shake his head once more, but somehow, his brain gets the order wrong and Regulus ends up nodding instead. 

“That’s right,” James coos, dropping a kiss on his skin, long and lingering. “Now, say my name, Regulus.” 

“James,” he gasps almost against his will, mouth moving before his mind can catch up. 

The other man groans and then attaches his lips to his throat immediately after, tongue pressing down as he sucks, the sting feeling absolutely heavenly. 

Regulus tilts his head to the side to give James more space, eyes hooded and limbs heavy, back coming to rest against James’ chest. 

“James,” he says again, without being prompted this time and the word almost sounding like a whine. 

“Fuck, you’re driving me insane,” James hisses against his neck, peppering the skin with open-mouthed kisses, his tongue and teeth mapping out Regulus’ skin. “You don’t understand how long I’ve been dying to do this.”

Regulus whimpers, hands moving on their own volition and reaching behind him until they bury themselves into James’ messy locks. He pulls, a bit harsher than intended, but before Regulus can manage to apologise, James is moaning loudly, the vibrations on his skin making him shiver. 

He pulls again, and James bites down on his throat hard enough to leave a mark. Regulus doesn’t have it in himself to reprimand him, or to tell him to stop. His brain is unable to focus on anything that isn’t James’ mouth working down his neck. 

“We could’ve been doing this ages ago if you weren’t so fucking stubborn,” James sighs, lips caressing his exposed shoulder and dragging another obscene noise out of Regulus. “I knew you wanted it. I knew you wanted me.”

“James—” Regulus pants, apparently unable to speak anything else apart from the other man’s name. 

It’s kind of embarrassing, how pliant a couple of kisses and a few dirty comments can make him. Regulus isn’t usually this easy, especially not in bed; he likes having a modicum of control, always ready to remind his partner that he doesn’t enjoy being bossed around. But, and as much as he hates to admit it, James knows what he’s doing. 

Although, maybe it’s not even a matter of skills. Maybe it’s simply that it’s James, and despite how much he’s tried to deny it, he’s been desperate for him almost since the moment he laid eyes on him. 

“God, baby, you taste divine,” James grunts, sucking on his collarbone almost at the same time that his fingers dip into Regulus’ waistband. They don’t get very far, and it’s more of a playful contact than anything else, but his breath still hitches. “Can’t wait to put my mouth between your legs.”

Regulus makes a keening sound, hips twitching, and James chuckles cruelly against his shoulder.

“You’d let me, right, baby?” James goes on, the hand that had slipped inside the basketball shorts changing its course and travelling up up up, until they’re caressing Regulus’ chest, following the shape of his scars. “There’s no point in pretending you’re not fucking gagging for it at this point. Just look at you. Look at you. I bet you could come from this. From me marking you up while I whisper in your ear.”

“N-no,” Regulus huffs, blinking furiously and doing his best to break out of his daze. “You’re too—too full of yourself. This isn’t enough, it could never be, and I—”

“Not enough?” James questions, stopping his ministrations. Regulus bites his tongue to stop the protest at the tip of his tongue. “Is this your way of asking for more, baby? Because you’re gonna have to do better than that. I don’t listen to brats.” 

Regulus wishes he could scoff, elbow James in the stomach so his touches stop clouding his mind and tell him to fuck off. Maybe even show him how well he can throw a stupid punch. 

But his body isn’t listening to his mind. It doesn’t care about what Regulus truly wants. Or what he’s been telling himself he wants, at least.

That’s why when he parts his lips, none of the curses he’s been preparing come out. Instead, there’s only need and lust. “Please,” he whimpers, closing his eyes tight momentarily. “Please, James, I—I just—”

James shushes him gently while circling a nipple, Regulus’ toes curling inside his toes and cunt clenching around nothing. “Oh, baby. It’s okay. I’m gonna take care of you so well. Give you exactly what you need.”

“Yeah,” Regulus exhales, hands spasming around James’ curls. “Please.” 

“Gonna let me fuck you, baby? Let me finger you nice and open, so you can get ready for my cock?” 

Regulus moans and nods and thrashes around, one of his hands slipping from James’ hair just so he can grab one of James' by its wrist, pushing his arm downwards and hoping to get some relief where he truly needs it. 

James stops right before he reaches his waistband, a cocky grin curving against Regulus’ skin. 

“Well, well,” James breathes. “Aren’t you a needy little thing.” 

“C’mon,” Regulus complains, uncaring of how childish he sounds. He feels too fucking drunk on everything James to be able to think about anything else apart from getting off.

James laughs again, because he’s mean like that, and Regulus can already feel some tears prickling at his eyes out of frustration.

“You have to tell me what you want, Regulus,” James says, and his voice is so damn casual it actually hurts. “This won’t work otherwise.” 

There’s no this, Regulus wants to snap back, but then James is pressing nearer, until Regulus can feel the outline of his hard cock against his ass. It makes him gasp and push back against it, really pleased by the little hiss James lets out at the pressure.

“See what you do to me, baby?” James whispers, dragging his lips over his shoulders, the side of his throat, behind his ear. “We barely did anything, and yet I’m so fucking hard it’s actually painful. You’ve no idea of how many times I’ve jerked myself off to the thought of you. Wishing it was your hand instead. Your mouth. The inside of your cunt.” 

Regulus’ knees shake, a mewl escaping his parted lips, and James’ grip on him turns even stronger. 

“I bet you’ll feel all tight and warm around me,” James goes on, tone husky, words dripping with so much desire it makes Regulus light-headed. “Make the sweetest sounds, too. I used to think you were too uptight and that I needed to fuck the stubborness out of you, but it turns out that you’re real fucking dirty, baby. Grinding back against my cock and opening your legs the moment I praised you a little. Oh, if they could see you now, baby. Big bad scary Regulus Black. Reduced to a pathetic, whimpering mess.”

“Shut up,” Regulus grits out, but he doesn’t stop rubbing his ass on James’ cock, or pulling at James’ wrist insistently, in an attempt to get his hand inside his pants. “You’re all bark and no bite. Spent all these months telling me everything you wanted to do to me, and now that I finally give you a chance, you’re only teasing and babbling in my ear.” 

“Good try, baby, but you should know by now that that attitude of yours only turns me on.” 

“Yeah? Then how come you’re not fucking me yet, huh?” 

James’ other hand, the one that hasn’t stopped gripping Regulus’ waist for a single second, lets go and climbs up, taking a hold of Regulus’ chin. James uses it to tilt his head back, forcing their gazes to meet, and Regulus despises how he feels himself get slicker at the flash of danger on James’ gaze, the sharpness of his smirk. 

“God, the mouth you have on you, baby.” James cocks his head to the side, considering, and he grips his chin even tighter. “So fucking filthy. And so pretty when you beg.” 

“I don’t beg,” Regulus murmurs back, aware that it’s a lie. He still narrows his eyes when James barks out a laugh. 

“Yes, you do. You already have. And you will do so again, if you want to come.” 

“I don’t need you for that. I can just—just walk out of here, leave you hanging and get off all by myself—”

“No, you can’t. I’m sure you’ve also jerked off while thinking of me, right, baby? All that tension, all that repression, I know it took its toll. Did you finger yourself slow and deep as soon as you got home after our interviews? Came with my name in your mouth?”

Regulus only glares at him, not even trying to defend himself. What’s the point, when James can see right through him? Lying won’t do him any favours. 

“You did,” James states, ridiculously pleased with himself. “You’re not gonna go and waste this chance over your wounded pride, baby. Argue all you want, but we both know you’re not going anywhere. Not when you’re practically drooling at the thought of taking my cock.”

“Don’t act like you don’t want it as much, if not more, than I do,” Regulus grumbles. 

James shrugs, leaning forward and forcing Regulus to do the same. Until their noses are grazing each other, breaths intermingling. 

“Never said otherwise,” he retorts with ease. 

“Then what the fuck are you playing at?”

“Nothing, really. Just waiting for you to tell me what you want. I’ll give it to you, baby, I swear. You just gotta ask.” 

Regulus purses his lips, but James does sound sincere, and at this point, it’s not like he has anything else to lose. It’s too late to try and save face, and his dignity, or whatever was left of it, took its leave the moment he allowed James to get this close. 

Besides, he wants this. He wants James. Has done so for a while, probably since the very beginning, and not even he has this much self-restraint.

“Fuck me,” Regulus says in a soft exhale, watching the way James’ pupils eat at his irises. “Please, James, fuck me. I need you inside me, it’s—fucking unbearable, really, and I’m gonna lose it if you don’t—”

“Yes,” James gasps out, nodding fast, moves turning erratic as he finally slips his hand under the shorts, under Regulus’ briefs. “Yes. Of course, baby, anything you want, I’m—shit, you’re so—let me just—”

His fingers rub at his clit playfully, pulling a moan out of Regulus, before they continue their path down, until they’re running through slick curls, teasing at his entrance and marvelling at the wetness they find there. 

“Fuck, baby, you’re fucking dripping,” James whispers in wonder. Regulus can only whimper, pushing against his eager hand. “And it’s for me. All for me. Fucking hell, just—come here—”

It’s when James tilts his head up, clearly wanting to kiss him, that Regulus finally manages to go back to himself. That Regulus remembers where he is, what he’s doing, who he’s doing it with. 

Reality hits him with such harshness that the ground seems to tilt under his feet, leaving him breathless, and dizzy, and having to swallow down a wave of nausea. 

What the actual fuck is wrong with him? 

“Wait,” he squeals, James’ mouth already touching his. “Wait.” 

To the other man’s credit, he does stop immediately at Regulus’ words, pulling back and fingers freezing where they were exploring at his cunt’s entrance. 

Regulus takes a gulp of air, heart rumbling loudly inside his head, his brain screaming at him to get a fucking grip. 

“Reg?” James calls him, a worried frown twisting his features while his eyes roam all over his face. “Baby, you okay?”

“Don’t—” Regulus wheezes out, clawing at James’ arm until he gets the hint and takes it out of his pants. He can’t think with those thick, calloused fingers resting on his cunt. “We can’t do this. It’s—no, James, just—no.”

Something pained flashes in James’ gaze, before it disappears, being substituted by a harshness Regulus has to look away from. “Regulus—”

“No,” he repeats, a lot firmer this time. “I’m not—I can’t, James. I’m sorry, I really am, but I just can’t.”

Regulus doesn’t stick around to hear James’ response, or watch his reaction. He moves away from him, legs shaky but still managing to support his weight, and he exits the ring without daring to glance back.

[raineandsky]

#86

Being a hero is stressful. That much is common knowledge. How a hero goes about unwinding from said stress is a mystery no one has yet figured out.

The hero settles in one of the little chairs in the circle. The man next to her gives her a light nudge. “Let’s see what you made this week, then.”

The hero reaches into her bag to show off her latest stress relief—a giant blanket, knitted in the downtime between jobs, sporting a rainbow of colours in bright streaks across its face. Everyone oohs and ahhs appropriately before the rest of the circle gets to showing off their own creations.

It’s been nice to have a place that isn’t entirely consumed by work, the hero thinks as she nods approvingly at someone’s mug cosy. No worrying about tomorrow, no wondering where the villains might be.

Her gaze flits to the next person in line to show something off, and her heart momentarily stops as she meets her eye. At least she doesn’t have to worry about the latter of her thoughts right now.

What the hell is the villain doing at the hero’s weekly knitting club?

“Go on,” the woman next to the villain prompts. The villain huffs and makes a show of it, but she pulls out a cardigan with a ghost of a pleased smirk.

The hero only realised why she’s so self-satisfied when she catches herself gaping in awe. The villain’s little cardigan is elaborate in pattern, swooping waves lining its shoulders. The yarns meld together in a perfect cacophony of colour. It’s amazing, more amazing than anything the hero could do.

The villain soaks in the praise with a humble nod before setting her gaze on the hero. It probably looks hopeful to anyone else, but the hero can see the glitter of arrogance in her eye. Go on, the villain’s practically saying, tell me how great I am.

“It’s nice,” the hero says through gritted teeth, and the villain’s smile turns humoured.

The hero can’t leave fast enough. Everyone else is packing their projects away. The hero’s blanket gets folded thankfully easily and she’s out the door before anyone can stop her.

Fine. A new project. Something to advance her skills and show the villain that she’s not the hot shit she thinks she is.

It takes all week. The hero holds her jumper up to show the group. The villain raises her eyebrows from across the circle.

“Inspired by another knitter here,” the hero says with what could almost be sarcasm, and the villain snorts a poorly contained laugh.

The villain shows off her creation. A pair of mittens, the patterns lacy and the colours bright. The hero scowls. Pissed doesn’t describe the feeling.

Next week. A layered scarf from the hero. The villain wins everyone’s affections with a tiny knitted elephant. “For my niece’s birthday,” the villain says innocently. “She loves them.”

Leaving is becoming more of a race with each passing week. “Keep trying,” the villain comments brightly before the hero can escape. “You’ve plenty of room to improve.”

The hero considers strangling the villain with her scarf.

The hero settles at her computer that evening with a scowl and a cup of hot chocolate, mentally prepared to prowl the internet for several hours for ideas on how to one-up the villain. It’s madness. She’s meant to be out there kicking the villain’s ass, and here she is trying to out-knit her.

It’s been three weeks, and she’s only just realising that her stress-relieving hobby is suddenly a lot more stress-inducing.

“Fuck,” she hisses outloud, and she momentarily considers the idea of knitting the word into a coaster for the villain too.

[goosologist]

[rearranging-deck-chairs]

oh my fUCKING god we fucking knew it didnt we HARD swing the other way hey i just met you and this is crazy heres my entire life story come fly away in my phone box with me

[stellewriites]

it’s been a long couple of days i promise if it looks like im ignoring any messages im not,, im just fucking exhausted lmao

[waloeders]

i know its barely 9pm but im going to bed gn everyone. say goodnight sleipnir please and thank you

[imabiscuitinthousandworlds]

sometimes you go to a party of sorts like "oh yeah i have time" and then you're there like "some of these conversations are actually pretty solid even if most peopl here at the literal youth centre are decidedly not young" and then you get home like "nvm i had too little sleep and too long a day and no social battery it actually wasn't that worth it and also i haven't had a free weekend since late may"

[thegobletofweasleys]

aaand we're coming to an end of jily week 2023 in my timezone!! don't worry, i'll continue to reblog jily week fics if you couldn't make it in time, but i wanted to say a big thank you to everyone who participated <3 wouldn't have been possible without your contributions, and i loved reading them! special shoutouts to @kay-elle-cee @emeralddoeadeer and @abihastastybeans who all amazingly submitted for every single day! in awe of you guys <33

[campingwiththecharmings]

Me, pretending to work from home but I'm really just sitting here on my phone with my laptop open 😂

[spanishinfluenza]

Happy birthday queen!!! Wish you have a wonderful year! Keep rocking and being gorgeous ✨ Here's a young human Carlisle boy for you.

TJANK YOU SO MUCH OMGFGG

Im shaking im crying, Look at him! Look at how gorgeous he is!!!!! His shirt is literally beautiful, his soft boy little eyes god damnnnnn. This kid had all the village pussy in the palm of his hand and aint never took a bite god BLESS america

[muji-milk]

playing tag with first graders is a great way to realise how old and unfit you are

[deeisace]

Six quid on hexagon canvases, gonna draw some bees~~~

[brilliantfantasticgeronimo]

they need to trim olympic ceremonies like 30% in lenght dflñfkdl

[phagodyke]

playing elden ring again [SANITY RESTORED]

[libingan]

okay, but soap w a reader w a high libido??? im crazy im going crazy i need him so bad

soap loves how much you want him. in fact, he thrives on it. every time you come to him with that wild look in your eyes, practically ripping his clothes off, it makes his cock throb with need. “fuckin’ hell, bonnie, ye’ve got an appetite, eh?” he’ll laugh, but he’s already grabbing at you, hands firm on your hips, pulling you against him. your libido matches his perfectly, and he’s always eager to meet you in the middle—or go a few rounds harder.

“ye dinnae waste any time, do ye?” he’ll say, his thick scottish brogue making every word sound dirtier as he growls into your ear. he’s all about intensity—rough kisses, hard thrusts, gripping you tightly as he fucks you like there’s no tomorrow. “ye want it that bad, aye? cannae ever get enough of me, can ye?” his voice is strained with lust, his hands gripping your body tightly as his hips slam into yours, the sound of skin against skin filling the air. he’s a man of passion, and once he gets going, it’s like he can’t stop.

but he also knows how to play with you, teasing just enough to drive you wild before giving you exactly what you need. his pace is rough, relentless, his cock driving into you hard and fast, making you gasp and moan as he watches with a smirk. “that’s it, love. take it.” even when you’re both spent, he’s still grinning, pulling you close, ready to go again. “ye’ve got me knackered, but fuck, i’ll never say no tae ye.”

[rhendarzon]

Whole of Tumblr talking about bells on their dash but i didn't get any on mine