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#bellaxis microfic
bellaxisworld · 2 days
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april 26 @jegulus-microfic prompt: aimless. word count: 248.
Regulus Black is not a person who ever feels misguided. At this point in his life, he feels strength in his purpose, and he’s confident in his decisions, his opinions. He follows a clear path, he’s organized—and it brings him joy to be so put-together. He doesn’t often feel lost. 
That is—he’s never felt as aimless as he does now, standing before the most stunning man he’s ever met, mouth dropped open in awe as he stares wordlessly. The man grins at him, and his heart flutters. He is pure fucking gold under Regulus' gaze, glistening and warm under the sunlight, and Regulus knows he has never understood true want until this moment. 
He’s been standing silently for far too long now, and he realizes he forgot the question the man asked entirely. Shit. 
He stammers through half a phrase before the man’s chuckle interrupts him.
“I’m James,” he says, eyes full of honeybrown sugar as he looks down at Regulus. He’s tall. Regulus is weak in the knees. 
Remembering his manners, Regulus breathes and extends a hand, “I’m Regulus.” 
James’ smile widens, and he says, “That’s a lovely name, Regulus.” Their hands meet in the middle. Between them, Regulus feels the entire universe hone into the contact—he feels the universe pause and right itself completely at this moment, because nothing has ever felt as perfect as them. Regulus looks up at James, and he thinks, absurdly, in every life, my heart will find yours. 
⭐️ find more of my microfics posted on ao3, here.
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bellaxisworld · 8 days
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april 19 @jegulus-microfic prompt: class. word count: 461
Regulus is walking to his next lesson when an invisible hand latches onto his wrist and drags him into a broom closet. He’s sputtering, cheeks flushed and eyes flashing in anger before he realizes only one foolish man in this castle would dare to lay a hand on him. His heart flutters in his chest.
It’s dark in the closet, and he’s caught off guard when warm hands frame his face and pull him into a gentle kiss. Regulus melts into him, chest pressed to chest, beating hearts thundering in tandem as he floats away, tugged gently into the clouds he frequents when he’s held so lovingly, when he's kissed with something akin to worship. It’s Regulus’ favorite thing to do—to kiss this boy, to feel him move and sigh under the palms of his hands, to touch and touch and remind himself this moment is real. He loves kissing James Potter more than breathing. 
Unfortunately for him, he has a difficult time articulating his devotion and adoration of James. But he thinks James knows, anyway. Regulus thinks he looks at James with so much love in his eyes, it would be impossible not to. 
“Jamie,” he whispers between kisses, and he feels the smile against his skin. He allows James to pull him closer, and he thanks the universe for the mere strength it takes not to crumble as James practically devours him in kisses. He’s a mess, limbs loose and heart hammering as he lets James take, and take, and take. Regulus simply can’t be faulted if he wants James’ mark on him forever. He’d let James take gory little bites out of him, consume him whole, just to taste him on his lips; he wants James' bitemarks scarring his skin. Regulus doesn’t want to exist if he can't exist as a monument of James, as an altar of their love.
They break apart for air and he leans his head against James’ shoulder, pressing little kisses against his skin. He breathes in, and he hopes every inch of his lungs are coated in the essence of James. 
Regulus reluctantly pulls away, straightens his robes, rights James’ tie, and picks up his fallen bag. He fixes a stern look at James, refusing to melt at the sight of his bright smile. “I can’t believe you’re pulling me into closets for a mere cheeky snog. Have some class, Potter.” 
James shakes his head fondly, because they both know Regulus appreciates it every time he drags him away, pulls him into comforting arms to escape into a bubble that’s only for them.
Regulus softens, crowding James again to pepper his face in quick kisses. He takes great pride in the blush on James’ cheeks as he reaches for the door.
more microfics posted on ao3: here.
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bellaxisworld · 3 months
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february 1, @jegulus-microfic prompt: shower. 495 words.
“Reg, I promise,” James whined, dramatic and huffy.
Regulus glared at him, arms crossed over his chest. He stood at about six inches shorter than James, but it never stopped Reg from putting all of his outrage into those glares. James personally thought he looked like an angry little bunny, and he usually booped his nose when he tried to look so intimidating.
“James. You always fall asleep. It’s practically a law of nature at this point. I can guarantee when I come out of the shower you will be passed out peacefully on the bed and miss another movie night.”
James pouted, putting all of his own energy into making adorable puppy eyes. (He knew Regulus would always fold. Poor boy never stood a chance.) James reached out a hand and tugged Regulus’ arms apart, hands clasping together. “Go shower, love. I know you can’t get in bed till you’re clean. I will be very patiently waiting in bed for you. And you will pick a movie and I will listen to all of your commentary the whole time and it’ll be wonderful. I love your movie choices, Mr. Film-Critic-Slash-Movie-Expert.” James grinned and kissed Regulus’ cheek. Reg softened a little at the kiss, leaning into James, and he knew he was right—he did need a shower—but he very sincerely doubted James’ ability to stay awake more than ten minutes without Reg to pester him.
Regulus kissed James’ shoulder(his eyeline was just at James’ collarbones and he didn’t feel like jumping up to kiss him with their appalling height difference) and he grumbled, “you always fall asleep when I’m in the shower,” before making his way to the bathroom. He rushed through the shower, still being thorough, hoping to find James awake and alert on the bed when he came back.
Regulus’ face cracked into a big and genuine smile when he saw James not in bed asleep, but walking around the room in circles, balancing a book on his head with a look of severe concentration on his lovely face. “Jamie,” Reg said, startling James into dropping the book. But James grinned easily back, and threw his arms up in a celebratory cheer.
“I’m awake! I walked around the whole time so I wouldn’t fall asleep. Time for our movie night!”
Regulus melted into a puddle, throwing his arms around James and dragging him onto the bed. He covered James’ face in loud smacking kisses and they both giggled. “Thank you, Jamie,” he whispered. James hummed, pressing close.
Regulus picked a movie and they curled up all comfy in bed, bodies warm and limbs tangled together. Regulus did comment on every interesting thing he noticed, and James might have fallen asleep within ten minutes, snoring softly and tucked into Regulus’ side like a cat. But Regulus didn’t mind one bit, still feeling oh-so-warm, because James tried so hard to stay awake while he took a shower. His boy was so sweet.
also found on ao3(multi-chapter microfic wip): february, i'm yours.
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bellaxisworld · 2 months
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february 15, @jegulus-microfic prompt: poison. word count: 594
It started so slowly, Regulus barely noticed it happening. But bit by little bit, it did happen, and Regulus was screwed.
“Hiya, Reg,” James said, and Regulus nearly dropped his quill when he looked up at that beaming face. Bright, bright, bright smile, golden skin and golden boy sitting before him.
“Hi, James,” Reg said, ever so shy.
That greeting was the first moment that made Regulus’ stomach drop and fill with butterflies. He quickly pushed the feeling aside, though—James was a friend. James was pleasant, and friendly, and Regulus only felt very nice, very platonic feelings for James. So platonic.
The next moment was on the Quidditch pitch.
Regulus was walking with Barty who needed to get out of the dorms for a little while, and they found themselves by the pitch. There was already someone flying.
As soon as he noticed company, James flew down to ground level. He tipped an imaginary hat and, to Regulus’ horror, winked right at him.
Regulus’ feet stuttered and he almost tripped. Barty grabbed his arm and shot him a funny look.
Regulus was blushing furiously and waved weakly back at James. He chuckled and pushed up on his broom, shooting back up into the air.
Regulus was still steadfastly ignoring his body’s reactions to James. It didn’t mean anything. He loved James, sure, but that was all a very friendly feeling. James was a great friend! Everyone knew this. James was everyone’s friend.
It became so very, very hard for Regulus to continue ignoring this feeling in his chest, this great big mass of emotion hidden behind his ribs, when James came strutting into the library one afternoon, catching Regulus in a study session that he quickly lost track of.
“Regulus,” James started, blinding smile in place.
“James,” Regulus sighed. He pretended to hate that James was giving him attention but Regulus loved it. He was ridiculously greedy for any bit of James’ attention.
“Brought something for you,” James said, voice quiet. He held out a small cluster of colorful wildflowers held together by a ribbon.
Regulus blinked. “What?”
James’ smile was warm. “Flowers, Reg. For you.”
Regulus’ brain was short circuiting.
He quickly stood and grabbed James’ robes, yanking him into a deeper part of the library, between quiet stacks.
James looked just as confused as Regulus felt. “Um, Reg—”
“Quiet, Potter. What the hell is going on?”
He shook his head, eyes wide and bewildered. “I just wanted to bring you flowers—”
“Wrong. You're poisoning me,” Regulus waved his arms around in exaggeration. “You-You’re making me feel things and you’re pretty and now you’ve brought me flowers, and-and—”
James grinned widely, reaching out to catch one of Regulus' waving hands in his own. He squeezed his hand.
“Making you feel things, huh? Poisoning you?”
Regulus huffed in annoyance but his blush deepened. He didn’t pull his hand away. “Yes, It’s quite a nuisance, really.”
James chuckled. “You’re so mean to me,” and it was said with the fondest tone, full of affection.
“I should be meaner,” he grumbled.
But Regulus didn't resist when James tugged him forward against his chest. He felt full of flutters and warmth when James pressed a kiss to the top of his head.
“If I’m poisoning you then you're poisoning me. I'm full of all those awful feelings for you. Consider me throughly poisoned.”
Regulus had full on heart eyes as he looked up at James.
“Maybe being poisoned isn't so bad,” he reasoned.
“Nah,” James said, smile crooked and kind. “Not so bad if I get you.”
find the full collection on ao3(15/29): february, i'm yours
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bellaxisworld · 2 months
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february 16 @jegulus-microfic prompt: tear. word count: 759
Regulus had been receiving love notes and love letters and letters of admiration from peers since fourth year when he’d come back to school with short hair and a mean look. He thought people simply admired him in a way that resembled desiring what you can never have—because he would never be theirs, and they would never be his. He was his own, whole entity without needing the validation of a romantic love. 
That was, he thought this until he bumped into James Potter in the halls of his sixth year, and James went from boy-next-door to someone from Regulus’ very own fantasies. 
Regulus’ brain quickly became a ball pit of thoughts about James Potter and James alone. He thought about James constantly, and he thought he was fucking ill. How could he let this happen? He was possessed by the divine being that was James. 
And James wasn’t leaving Regulus alone. 
It was bad enough that Regulus couldn’t avoid him in his own head, but now James was popping up everywhere. He made himself present wherever Regulus was, and it was driving him mad. 
Because James was stunning, and Regulus was obsessed. He wanted James to push him up against a wall and kiss him senseless. He wanted to kick James and for James to look back at him with a gleam in his pretty, pretty brown eyes. He wanted James to wrap his arms around him and whisper sweet nothings in his ear(his arms were big and just the sight of them made Regulus weak in the knees). He wanted James, and James, and James and James and James and then everything was about James. Regulus wanted James. 
And then James Potter began flirting with him. 
It was subtle, at first. Just a cocky smirk when they talked, and a glance down at his lips. Then he made suggestive comments, calling Regulus pretty, and Regulus went to his dorm to bury his blushing face in a pillow. Then there was the arm touch, and that time Regulus stuttered on his words and dropped his books. James Potter made him a mess. 
It didn’t help that when James knelt to pick up his books for him, he looked up at Regulus with big eyes and said this isn’t exactly how I pictured getting on my knees for you for the first time. 
Then James got enough courage to ask Regulus out on a date, and Regulus was helpless. He said yes, acting reluctant, but he was sure James knew how desperate he was for him. 
So, they were dating—and Regulus learned how very possessive James Potter was over the things he cared about, and he could not be more pleased about being included in that category. Regulus was profoundly and deeply happy with James, and he knew James owned him, heart, body, and soul, through and through, claimed by James Potter. Regulus would never complain about the possessive side of James, because it meant James was just as territorial over Regulus as he was over James. Mutually beneficial satisfaction. 
James was sitting with Regulus during breakfast at the Slytherin table, and back-for-scheduled-programming, an owl dropped by with many pink and white and gold love letters and notes, addressed to one Regulus Black. 
Regulus sighed and picked up his wand to incendio them when James’ hand snapped  out to capture them. James looked shocked as he flicked through them, mystified by the sheer amount of admiration Reg received daily.
“You get these everyday?” he asked. 
“Yes,” Regulus said. “I get rid of all of them.” 
James scoffed, a mischief and fire lighting up his eyes. “Crazy,” he muttered, tearing up every single letter and scattering the scraps. “I’m going to tear up every one you get.” 
Regulus rolled his eyes. “They’re stupid and silly notes, nothing to go crazy over—”
“Regulus,” James said, voice steady but firm. He turned Regulus’ face by grabbing his chin, forcing him to look him in the eyes. James’ gaze was burning, and his jaw was set. He looked fierce like that, and Regulus felt overly warm. “You’re going to bring them to me and I’m going to tear up every single one. Understood?”
Regulus nodded, looking at him a bit dumbly.James smirked and fell forward, capturing and devouring Regulus in a kiss that was too obscene for the breakfast setting. He was making a statement, right there in the Great Hall in front of everyone. Regulus melted into him, mumbling against his lips, “Yeah, yes, please tear them up.”
find the full collection of february microfic prompts on ao3: february, i'm yours.
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bellaxisworld · 2 months
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february 21, @jegulus-microfic prompt: attack. word count: 607
Barty and James were usually fine when interacting with each other. Typically, they’d bicker and fight a little, but there was a friendly tone to it.
Today, though—Barty was quickly frying the very last nerve James had, and he was about to implode. James was going to make a mess—cause chaos and go on a warpath if Barty did not get his fucking hands off Regulus’ waist. 
From across the room, James’ eyes were on Regulus, as they always were, and Barty was being handsy. 
Regulus and Barty were friends—and they were close, and Barty loved causing mayhem. Regulus wasn’t leaning into Barty’s touch, but he wasn’t pushing him off, either. And Regulus looked stunning, as he always did to James, his head was thrown back in a lovely laugh and James couldn’t handle the fact that Barty had a front row seat to Regulus’ beauty and he didn’t.
James was fine with the fact that Regulus had friends, of course—he encouraged it, he wanted Regulus to have a life full of the love he deserved. But Barty—Barty was touching Regulus in a place James’ hands should be. Barty was infringing on the space that boyfriends take up—and Barty was not his fucking boyfriend. 
James was simmering, stewing in his possessive anger by himself until Barty’s hand distinctly squeezed Regulus’ waist, and James shot up. He stalked over and shoved Barty’s arm to its rightful place at his side. Barty’s grin was feral—he just wanted to play. James turned to Regulus who had an annoyed look on his face—but his eyes were bright and James knew he liked to play the game just as much. He grabbed Regulus' hand and shot a hex Barty’s way, dragging Regulus out of the room. 
Barty cursed and shouted, “It’s just a bit of fun, Potter!”
“Fuck you, Crouch,” James shot over his shoulder—but there was less of a bite to it. 
Regulus had a smirk on his face as James dragged him into the corridor and James knew he was feeding into exactly the type of game Regulus wanted to play. 
He didn’t care one bit. 
Regulus was grumbling(James saw right through his fake grumbles) when James pulled him into a large, hidden closet and put up a silencing charm. Regulus didn’t have time to react before James was lifting him to his height and cutting off his words in a kiss—Regulus melted against him, opening his mouth in a gasp and James breathed him in, accepting graciously, every bit of breath and life from him, full and full and full of everything that was Regulus. 
Regulus was panting against him when James moved to his neck, fingers grasping at shoulders and biting into flesh. 
Regulus yelped when he felt James’ teeth on his neck, biting and nipping at skin, making marks. “Jamie—James, fuck—you’re attacking me!” 
James hummed. “Be glad I’m not attacking Crouch right now—he’d likely have a different kind of bruise on his neck, like the shape of my handprints. He might also wind up dead.”
Regulus blew out a shaky breath and tightened his hold on James. “You possessive bastard.” 
“If someone’s going to touch what’s mine, if they’re close enough to see these bruises—they better know they’ll never have you the way I have you. They can’t touch you where I touch you.” He sucked a bruise onto Regulus' neck and he could feel the broken noise against his lips. 
“James—fine, okay, just keep, fuck, kissing me—”
“Always, baby, always.” And Regulus showed off every mark on his neck proudly.
part of a microfic collection on ao3(21/29): february, i'm yours.
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bellaxisworld · 23 days
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april 5 @jegulus-microfic prompt: slap. 874 words.
fyi - james is "pushy" in this fic with regulus' boundaries but it is not an issue. if regulus had an actual problem with it, he would tell james. don't take it too seriously <3
cw: swearing.
Barty is playing cards with some random Ravenclaw in the common room when Regulus walks up to him, glancing around skeptically and sulking. He’s always rather tense, Regulus—but he looks like a spiky porcupine as he joins their table, ready to hex anyone who looks at him wrong. 
Regulus stops by Barty’s arm and mutters to him, “I made a mistake.” 
Barty raises an eyebrow at him. “You made a mistake?”
His lips thin out. “I made a mistake.” 
Barty heaves a sigh, nodding. “Where’s the body?”
“No! Merlin, no—I mean. Not yet, but there might be soon.” Regulus folds his arms over his chest, taking another peek around the room. He’s looking for something—or someone. 
“Reggie, you are acting more dramatic than Sirius, right now—”
His head snaps up, eyes dancing dangerously with silver flames. “You cunt, I am not—”
“Point proven, Reg. I think the dramatic gene is in your bloodstream.” 
Regulus huffs and rolls his eyes. “Anyway. We might be murdering James.”
“Potter?”
“That’s what I said, isn’t it?” he hisses. He reminds Barty of an agitated cat, hissing and clawing and angry. 
“Right, so we’re murdering the boy you’ve been in love with for a fucking century? Now we’re murdering him, after you managed to bag his ass?”
“Best friends are supposed to support their friends’ murderous intentions, Bartemius.” 
“I'm very supportive of your murderous intentions, I just have questions. What did the poor guy even do?” Barty even feels a little bad for James. Potter is just as smitten with Regulus as Regulus is with him, which means he is very far gone for him. So in love it almost makes Barty sick, to look at them. It's a beautiful and gross thing. He can’t imagine James would do anything to massively upset Regulus, he’s too pure of heart. 
Regulus grumbles something under his breath.
Barty leans forward. “Hm? What was that?” 
“He slapped my ass,” Regulus says louder, and Barty cackles. 
Regulus smacks his shoulder as he doubles over in delight. “You don’t get it, Barty, he’s slapping my ass everywhere. All the time. He did it once and saw me—saw me, um, get flustered, I guess—shut the fuck up—and now he’s inescapable.” He leans forward to set his forehead on the table, hiding his red cheeks.
Barty giggles beside him. “So—Reg, I’m sorry, please, oh Merlin—you made a mistake?”
He nods, miserably. “I told him to stop. He took it as a challenge. A personal challenge to find me everywhere and publically slap my ass.” 
“I don’t blame him. You have a perfectly slappable ass, Reggie—”
“I’m never coming to you with my problems again.” 
“Okay, fine, I’m sorry, let’s go plan his fucking murder or something—oh, oh—” Barty laughs, startled, and Regulus looks up. 
“Fuck,” he says, standing up straight and booking it, running around the sofa to keep as much distance as possible between him and the entrance to the common room.
James Potter walks in, bright smile lighting up the room. 
Regulus blushes from the mere sight of him, weak in the knees but still tensing up and preparing himself to run. 
James struts over to the couch, perfectly calm. “Hi, sweetheart,” he says to Regulus, voice dripping in saccharine sweetness. 
Regulus glares, steel eyes shooting daggers at his boyfriend. “How did you find me? I’m hiding from you.”
James smirks. “You sure know how to flatter a guy, Reg. But, you know, I have my sources.” He shrugs, nonchalant. Barty thinks that seems suspicious, but he ignores it in favor of planning an escape for Regulus. He can tell both he and James are gearing up for a little fight, a chase. He would even bet they both like the thrill of it, this game they’re playing.  
“Come on, baby, why are you avoiding me?” James asks, leaning over the back of the sofa, eyes soft but glittering in amusement as he looks at Regulus. 
“You know perfectly well why I’m avoiding you,” Regulus whispers venomously. 
James shrugs. “Are you still going to run?”
“Are you going to slap my ass?”
James chuckles. “You have a truly marvelous ass, Regulus—”
“Potter—”
Barty is about to hex James so Regulus can escape when James jumps over the couch and reaches for Regulus. He yelps, attempting to dart away—too slow. 
James catches him by the wrist and whips him around, pulling him close with one hand on his waist, slapping his ass with a resounding smack! Regulus goes red, cheeks pretty and pink as he glares up at James. “You are objectifying me, Potter.” 
James kissed him hard, practically manhandling him with one hand on his waist and one on his ass. 
“I think you like me objectifying you, baby,” James whispers against Regulus’ lips. He melts against James’ chest, an indecent sound ripping from his throat, tugging him forward for more demanding kisses. 
They become rather—obscene, at this point, Barty observes. He chuckles and throws a pillow at them. 
“Get a room, you sluts!” 
Regulus nods fervently. “Room, a room, James, yes, let’s—yeah.” He drags James out of the common room and towards the dungeons, and James’ hand doesn't leave his ass the whole way there.
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bellaxisworld · 2 months
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february 13, @jegulus-microfic prompt: street. word count: 719
Regulus had never been so deliriously happy. Sure, he was very dizzy, and the world was spinning round and round and round and he felt sick from it, and he couldn’t really see properly—but James was holding him, and everything else seemed to melt away when he was in James’ arms. 
“Jamie,” he murmured. 
They were walking…somewhere, Regulus didn’t know, and he was stumbling, but James held him up, one arm around his waist and the other holding his hand. 
“Sweetheart,” James replied, and Regulus could just sense the smile on his face. The smile he could kiss and kiss and kiss forever, and he wanted to. He would marry that smile. 
Maybe he should propose. To the smile, that is. James’ smile.
Oh, James. He loved James, really, truly and fully. His love for James was just bubbling and expanding in his chest, warm and massive, stretching him right open. Like a balloon. 
“I’m a balloon,” he stage-whispered to James. 
James laughed, nearly knocking them both over. “Oh, darling. You’re a balloon?”
Regulus nodded messily; his head was so heavy. “Balloonish. All this…” hiccup, “love is in my,” hiccup, “chest. Love for you in my chest, making it big.” Hiccup. “Very big. I’m… ballooning.” 
James rubbed a hand over his forehead, brushing away loose curls. “You’re precious, Reg. I’m ballooning with love for you—”
“I’m gonna throw up,” Regulus burst out, suddenly feeling very, very ill. 
James rushed him to bend over in an alleyway, and he realized they were walking home from the club. 
Once he felt safe enough to stand, James pulled him up and let him lean against him again. “Maybe the balloon was my stomach. Not the love,” he decided. 
James shook his head, smiling at him. “Yeah, maybe. But the love is there, too.”
Regulus nodded, and tilted his head back, looking up at the sky. 
Stars, there were so many stars. 
He got excited, and tugged at James’ sweater. “Jamie! Let’s go find Sirius!” He stumbled forward, out from the alleyway to get a broader look at the sky. “Love, slow down, Sirius isn’t here—”
“Not that Sirius, star Sirius.” 
Regulus walked right into the street and sat down clumsily, laying back to look at the stars. 
James was leaning over him, blocking the view of the sky. “Reggie—” he started, incredulously. 
“Move,” Reg kicked at his legs. “Lay down. We watch the stars.”
James just made an indignant sound and sat down beside him. “We’re in the middle of the street, Reg—” 
“Yeah, and it’s like 3am. Nobody’s driving. Where’s your adventure?” he huffed dramatically. 
James just laughed, and it sounded like resignation to Regulus. “Okay, love. Okay. Show me the stars.”
Regulus remained silent. The sky was still spinning, out of his control, and he couldn’t keep his focus on any of them, even if he squinted real hard. 
“Jesus, Reg, you can’t even see them, can you?” 
“I so can! Give me a second!” 
More than a few seconds passed, and Regulus couldn’t identify a single star in the sky. But maybe James couldn’t either, so Regulus pointed up and said, “That one, see, over there—that’s Arcturus.” His hand was wobbling and it was very likely he wasn’t even pointing in the right direction. 
James chuckled and grabbed his hand, bringing it down to kiss his knuckles. “Okay, love, that’s a bunch of bullshit. I still love you. We can pretend to watch the stars.” 
“I’m still watching them,” Regulus hissed. “They’re just…moving.”
“I’m watching, too. You’re silly for thinking I don’t know where Regulus or Arcturus is, in the sky. I talk to them all the time, you know.”  
Now his chest was surely ballooning from all the love. Regulus’ breath hitched. “You do?”
“Whenever you’re not around. I tell them all my secrets.”
Regulus gasped. “Do I know your secrets?”
James looked over at him, smile stretching across his face. “Every one. They’re all about you anyway.” 
He felt oh-so-full of this warmth, this love and fondness inside him. “Good. I should know all of them, all the time. I’m a really good secret keeper.”
“I know, love.” 
And that’s where they stayed, lying flat on a cobblestone street in the middle of the night, holding hands and gazing up at the stars, telling them whispered secrets.
chapter 13 in a microfic series on ao3: february, i'm yours.
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bellaxisworld · 1 month
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february 27 @jegulus-microfic prompt: change. word count: 955
Kissing Booth - Kiss for a Cause! 
All donations go to the local LGBTQ+ teen shelter! 
James had noticed the bright red signs around campus for a couple days, not sparing it a second thought. There are always lots of charity opportunities and donations happening around campus, a kissing booth is nothing special.
But now, he faces the multi-colored kissing booth in front of the library and his heart skips a beat.  
He never imagined he could be working the kissing booth. 
Regulus Black—also known as James Potter’s biggest weakness—is standing behind the kissing booth counter. 
James does a double take, eyes drinking up every beautiful detail of Regulus. His hair is immaculately curled and styled today, gently tucked behind one ear. His eyes are bright and discerning, gray and stormy as he looks up at James. Regulus is wearing a blue shirt and gray jeans, and his many silver rings catch James’ attention. James is obsessed with Regulus’ rings—he could write sonnets about Regulus’ rings, his hands, how utterly perfect Regulus is.
He hurriedly hops in line for the kissing booth, antsy and impatient during the time it takes for him to reach the front. He’s fidgeting and overthinking and bouncing on one foot—and finally, he comes face to face with him. James is breathless, staring at Regulus. The younger boy is far shorter than James, and James is endeared to him even more for it. The top of his dark curly head barely comes up to James’ mid-chest. 
“Regulus,” James breathes out, smiling wide and toothy. 
“Potter,” Regulus says—and James nearly scoffs. The audacity he has, to call him Potter, as if they’re on a last name basis!
“Can I get a kiss, Regulus?” Say yes, say yes, say yes—
“Do you have change, Potter?” Regulus is smirking up at him, but his eyes look far too sharp, and James feels like he’s the victim of a cruel prank. 
“Right, right—uh, five dollars, is it?” James pats his pockets, searching for the five-dollar-bill he pocketed this morning. 
Regulus clicks his tongue, looking bored. “Ten dollars, actually—price went up,” he says. 
James looks at the bulletin, seeing a very clear FIVE DOLLARS in bubble letters. He goes to point, spluttering, “It says—”
James is met with a cutting glance and a mean smirk. “Want to make it twenty?” 
“No! No, Reg—”
“Ah, too late. Twenty it is,” Regulus interrupts, looking positively gleeful as James stares at him in horror. “For charity.”
“Regulus, you’re—”
“Twenty five, Potter?” Something warm and unexpected blooms in James’ chest, and it feels like they’re playing a game. Regulus is having too much fun being mean to him. 
“Stop, no inflation, please, let me find some change, for goodness sake!” James frantically searches his bag, his pockets, finding only thirteen dollars on his person.
But James Potter is no quitter—and he refuses to lose this game. 
James talks to everyone in line, begging for a spare dollar, “Hi, the name’s James, I am at a point of desperation, do you have any spare change?” 
By chance or pure luck, James manages to scrounge up twenty-two dollars, and he finds himself at the front of the line again. 
“Regulus,” he says, just as breathless as before. Regulus looks up at him with his pretty eyes, shining with amusement. His pink lips are quirked up in a smile. “I have twenty-two dollars for you, which is way more than you charged anyone here, but I love a good charitable cause, of course—”
“James, shut up—” Regulus reaches forward and tugs harshly on the front of James’ shirt. He falls forward into the booth and steadies himself with a hand on Regulus' waist, like muscle memory. His other hand finds Regulus’ face, cradling it so gently as he pulls James into a kiss, and he moves automatically—as if they’d kissed a thousand times before. But they hadn’t, and James is learning exactly what Regulus tastes like for the first time, and he is definitely losing his mind. 
Regulus is flush against him, warm in James’ arms, making the prettiest noises into James’ mouth that James eats right up, eager to swallow every part of him. 
They kiss and kiss in the middle of the courtyard, far too indecently—and James can’t help but hope that Regulus hadn’t been so filthy with everyone else. 
Regulus pulls away, chest heaving and lips red and kiss-bruised. Despite not being an artist, James desperately wants to paint this version of him—to emphasize the contrast between his cool colors, gray and blue and black, to the warmth of his blush and lips, the brown freckles on his nose. James thinks he’s the prettiest view he’s ever seen. 
“Was that worth you twenty dollars in change, James?”
“Twenty-two,” James corrects breathlessly, “and yes, it was, Regulus.”
Regulus smiles at him, tucking a fallen curl behind his ear. He bites his lip. “Do you—um, do you want to do it again sometime?” 
James’ heart stops, anticipation flooding through him. “Do what, in particular?”
Regulus’ cheeks flush redder. “Oh, the uh—kissing part?” 
His heart restarts, pounding in his chest with a vengeance. He’s sure the entire courtyard can hear the thump of his heart. “Do I have to scrounge up another twenty-two dollars for it?”
Regulus huffs. “No, Potter, of course not. I just thought—”
“Of course I would. Like to kiss you, I mean. Can we schedule a date first?’ 
Regulus nods eagerly. They get each other’s numbers, they schedule a date, and James gets to wax poetic about his boyfriend’s beauty at all times. And he doesn’t need spare change as an excuse to kiss his crush anymore.
chapter 27 in my microfic series on ao3: february, i'm yours.
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bellaxisworld · 2 months
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february 25 @jegulus-microfic prompt: invincible. word count: 713
The wind whips around Regulus with a vengeance, tugging him one way and another and pushing, and pulling, but he’s so close to catching the Snitch, close to winning this match against Gryffindor… just a few… more… moments—
“Regulus!” Sirius’ shriek forces Regulus to look up and find a Bludger hurtling towards him at an alarming rate. He turns his broom quickly, racing away—but the sound of a thud and crunch behind him steals his attention. 
Fear grips him and unfurls in his chest, ugly and painful, as he sees James Potter fall off his broom alongside the stray Bludger. 
The crowd gasps in unison, and Regulus thinks he blacks out for the rest of the match. James is gently carried away to the infirmary, and Regulus doesn't see or react to anything until he’s racing through the corridors, desperate to find James. He’s running through the corridors when he hears them; the whispers, the gossip, the news—
“James Potter took a Bludger to the back for Regulus Black, did you hear?” 
“For Black? In the Quidditch match?” 
“I heard the rogue Bludger knocked him off his broom.” 
“Do you think Black planned it? Revenge on Gryffindor? Revenge on Potter?” 
Regulus is seething by the time he stalks into the infirmary. He feels rage and something dangerous boil beneath his skin. 
Did James put himself in front of a Bludger for Regulus? Does James have a fucking death wish?
He pushes his way past the nurse’s helpers, past the headmaster, past the gaggle of onlookers—to find James, sitting up in bed and looking grassy and battered and bruised, and Regulus’ heart constricts at the sight of him. 
“James,” he gasps, breath punched out of him. 
James smiles weakly at him, and Regulus feels like he can breathe again, but his chest is painfully tight, and—
“What the hell were you thinking, James?” he practically hisses, biting and clawing and begging James to tell him no, I would never jump in front of a Bludger for you. I am not that stupid. But Regulus knows James Potter is, in fact, that stupid. 
“Did you purposely fly in front of the Bludger?” he can feel the anger simmering off him in palpable waves, and the audience is slowly trickling away in fear. The nurses give them privacy, and then it's just James who bears witness to the great power that is Regulus Black’s rage. 
James does not look fearful. His jaw is clenched and he looks steeled. “Yes, and I would do it again.” 
Surprise slams through Regulus like a tidal wave. The audacity of James Potter. 
“You could have died! Do you think you’re invincible?” Regulus yells, eyes wide as terror shakes its way through his chest, his bones. James has a deathwish, surely. 
James stares at him, brown eyes wide with concern. “I did it because I love you, Regulus,” admission slipping out of his mouth like a whispered secret. 
The world has stilled, his rage has been tempered, and his heart is being tugged. Regulus gapes, and then he's surging forward, collapsing onto the bed and hugging James fiercely. “Do you?” he says eagerly. “Do you really?”
James wraps his arms right around Regulus. “Yes, really, love.” 
Warmth rushes through Regulus like it always does when he hears James call him love. James has a habit of calling Regulus sweet names, and he melts everytime. He uses it like a weapon—when they're playfully arguing, when James wants something in particular, when Regulus is being stubborn and James knows how to wield it—he calls Regulus something sweet and he bends to James’ will in a heartbeat. Regulus loves the names just as much as he loves the stolen kisses, the whispered confessions, the hidden moments away from prying eyes. Regulus loves James in his entirety—and his heart aches and expands with the reality that James loves him, too. He presses kisses all over James’ face and James’ laugh is so bright he feels it melt away any leftover anxiety. “I love you,” Regulus says between kisses, “I love you,” more kisses, “I love you, James,” kisses and kisses and kisses. “But really,” kiss, “you idiot,” kiss, “do not fly in front of a deadly Bludger for me again.”
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bellaxisworld · 2 months
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february 26 @jegulus-microfic prompt: bed. word count: 493.
The gentlest whisper of Regulus’ fingertips traveled  along the bookshelf, eyes moving back and forth, categorizing and memorizing every novel he came across. Being in James’ childhood bedroom was an experience he treated with devotion—he wanted to learn every piece of information about James and lock it away for safekeeping; every piece was sacred. 
Regulus loved James with a love so profound, most days it was hard to breathe around it, this massive thing in his chest. He loved James like a religion. He treated and touched James with reverence and adoration, and took every opportunity to layer kisses against his skin with a mouth of worship. 
So Regulus treated his home and childhood bedroom with just as much respect, with reverence. He was gentle but appreciative. He loved being surrounded by the things that made James himself. 
And he was mildly offended when James insisted Regulus slept in the guest room—away from James for a night, in his parents’ house. 
“James, we never sleep apart—”
“Sweetheart, they set up the guest room for you, already,” James pleaded. 
Regulus was looking up at James with big eyes, shiny and wide with a pout. James rarely denied him anything, and it broke his heart when he was forced to. 
“I don’t know if I’ll sleep well,” Regulud admitted, plump bottom lip jutting out petulantly. 
James wrapped his arms around Regulus’ neck, hands placed comfortingly on his cheeks, cradling his face. “If you’re having trouble sleeping, you can sneak back into my room. Is that okay?” 
Regulus had already decided to do so, but he put on a show of consideration to appease James. He was still pouty, but he nodded and latched onto James’ arm, fingers finding their way into his sleeves and intertwining with James’. 
Bedtime came and passed, and Regulus did not even try to fall asleep in his guest room bed. He appreciated the effort, of course—Effie and Monty were so kind for setting up the space for him. But he needed James desperately—probably to an unhealthy extent, but that was neither here nor there. He was dressed in soft pajamas, padding gently down the hall to James’ room. He crawled into James’ bed and James immediately brought him into his arms, wrapping his body around him like two fitted puzzle pieces locking into place. One of Regulus’ favorite places to be was James’ arms, safe and tucked away after a long day. 
“Baby,” James whispered, breath warm on Regulus’ cheek. 
“Hi, Jamie,” he whispered, words softly floating through the night air. The quilt was comforting, settled securely over them, huddled together. James nuzzled against him, nose pressed against his neck, mouth pressing gentle kisses against his shoulder. He was safe, and his love for James only expanded in his chest, blooming warm and sure. Regulus cherished this moment—tucked away in James’ arms, sleepy and peaceful in his childhood bed, a moment  so serene and precious.
chapter 26 of a microfic series on ao3: february, i'm yours.
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bellaxisworld · 1 month
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february 29, @jegulus-microfic prompt: address. word count: 1,019.
James checks and double-checks the star shaped silver tag, glancing out the car window at the street sign. “Are you sure this is the right address?” he asks Remus, running a gentle hand along the black cat’s fur. The cat, Lune, purrs and pushes her head into his palm. He smiles, warmth blooming in his chest from her unabashed affection. They’d only just picked her up an hour ago, finding her stranded but clawing gently at their door. James’ heart immediately latched onto her, melting everytime she nudged him with her paw. 
“This is definitely the address from her collar,” Remus mutters, looking at the small flower beds lining the walkway. The home was rather lovely, looking strangely antique but well taken care of. 
James had no clue how Lune managed to find herself halfway across the city. 
He and Remus walk tentatively up to the green-painted door, and James already mourns the loss of Lune, aching with the thought of having to let her go. She’s curled up against his chest, eyes half lidded with sleepiness. James wants to hold on forever. 
The door opens, and James thinks his world realigns itself, or maybe it falls apart and rebuilds into something new, something utterly wonderful. 
The most lovely boy James has ever seen stands before them, pouting and adorable, with flushed cheeks and black curls ruffled against his forehead and around his ears. He looks rather disturbed that anyone dares bother him, and James thinks there should be art dedicated to the glory that is this man standing before him. James thinks he is the art itself. 
His pretty gray eyes widen almost comically as he sees the cat in James’ arms. 
James’s heart flips and turns and squeezes when he grumbles something unintelligible in French, and he’s silent, stuck staring at this beauty in awe. 
Remus clears his throat. “We found her clawing at our door this afternoon. I’m not quite sure how she made it to our part of town, but—”
“My idiot brother, that’s how,” the man says, rolling his eyes and huffing. James wants to touch and feel him under his fingertips, completely enraptured by this downright angelic being. “He was babysitting her this weekend while I was out of town. Obviously, he cannot be trusted with babysitting.” He reaches forward with pale hands to scoop her from James’ chest, but James is transfixed, lips parted as he thinks about the French lilt to the man’s words. He might be falling in love. 
Remus elbows him and he’s sharply brought back to reality, highly aware he was staring for a moment too long. He releases Lune to her owner’s arms, and she purrs again, nuzzling into the man’s neck. James is full of butterflies as he sees the man smile, hands lovingly cradling Lune. He feels less sorry for returning her, now that he sees the love she is returning to. 
James also plans on infiltrating the man’s life, wiggling his way into his beautiful arms, so he knows he’ll see her again. 
“Thank you both for bringing her home. It’s quite a ways from your home, I imagine, but your effort is very appreciated.” He speaks so formally, and James wants to dig his fingers into and tug and tug until something breaks. He’s feeling rather insane about this stunning stranger. “I’m Regulus, by the way. Your names are—?”
Remus chokes, coughing rather dramatically. “Regulus?” he croaks. “As in, Regulus Black?”
What a pretentious name, James thinks, again staring at him wistfully. Then— “Black? Like, Sirius—”
“I am Regulus Black, Sirius Black’s brother.” Regulus says, monotonously. Ah, the French makes sense. “Stupid bastard couldn’t even properly babysit my cat.” He huffs. “Are you all neighbors, then?”
Sirius Black is James’ enthusiastic French neighbor turned good friend. He was also blessed with unnaturally good looks, and James sees the resemblance now, looking at Regulus. 
Beside James, Remus blushes and mumbles, “Not my neighbor—” 
Sirius is James’ neighbor, and Remus’ current European conquest. How fitting, James thinks, for him and Remus both to fall for the Black brothers. 
James is free-falling off the deep end, preparing for a brutal fall. 
“I’m James,” he manages to say. Regulus’ rapt attention turns to him and he burns under it, feeling overwhelmed immediately. “Sirius’ neighbor.” He extends a hand and a smile, waiting for Regulus to take it. 
Take my hand, he begs in his head. Free fall with me. 
Their hands meet in the middle, and James swears he feels a spark ignite between them. He thinks he sees Regulus blush under his gaze. 
Their hands fit together perfectly, like puzzle pieces clicking into place. They both linger in the other’s touch, reluctant to pull away, brown eyes caught on gray ones, stuck in this charged moment. 
“Thank you, James,” whispers Regulus, and James grins, soaking up every second of his attention, feeling a rush of affection towards him. His name spilling from Regulus’ lips feels like a form of worship. 
James takes a leap of faith, free-falling off the very edge of which he was unprepared to fall from. “Can I get your number, Regulus?” Catch my fall, catch my fall, catch my— 
“Yes,” he breathes, hastily running into his apartment and returning with a slip of paper. He’s blushing fiercely, and James wants nothing more than to kiss his pink cheeks. He’s beautiful and soft, worth being cherished. 
James winks on his way down the steps, and when they make it into the car, Remus cackles. “Both of us! The Black brothers, James, both of them!” He’s wheezing. 
They drive off, and James looks back to see a black head of curls peeking through a curtained window. James smiles, and Regulus waves back, a soft smile tugging at his lips. 
If James is free-falling, so is Regulus—and that’s what love is all about, doing the scary things together. They’ll hold each other through the fall, and the crash might not hurt so bad. Maybe the pain will vanish with the first touch of a lover’s kiss. Either way—they’ll come out of it, together.
✩ part 29/29 of my microfic-fic on ao3: february, i'm yours.
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bellaxisworld · 3 months
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february 7, @jegulus-microfic prompt: star. word count: 469.
James hissed, the prick and sting and buzz of the tattoo gun sending sparks of adrenaline through his system. He tried his very best not to shift and wiggle under the needle, but he was sweating and shivering and so uncomfortable. 
He was vibrating with energy, dizzy and a bit stir-crazy by the time he stood up, walking over to the mirror to admire the art adorning his body. He beamed, tipped well, and practically skipped home, just so  fuckin’ pleased with himself. 
James was laid out across the bed, shirtless, when Regulus entered. Regulus stumbled over his feet, and made a startled noise. “James—”
“Baby,” James drawled, a wide and lazy smile splitting his face. 
Regulus slowly walked over to the bed, eyes wary but twinkling with curiosity, and he faltered when he got close enough to take in the full view. 
James was spread out on the bed, arms behind his head, and Regulus’ eyes trailed down, down, and landed on the fresh ink, skin pink and irritated from the needles. Across both hip bones were fresh smatterings of stars and the delicate swirls of a galaxy, a symmetrical decoration on both sides, outlining the shape of his V-line. 
“Stars,” James said, and Regulus was standing there stricken, mouth watering at the sight of his boyfriend. 
“Stars,” Reg said, dumbly, and James grinned, a mean little thing. 
“For you, my star,” he said, barely above a whisper—but it was such a declaration, an act of utter devotion. 
Regulus laughed, a ridiculous sound, a ridiculous situation, and crawled on top of James’ legs, careful to avoid touching the ink but still close enough to admire. Pretty, pretty thing. Regulus ran his hands all over James’ body, reverent and gentle but nearly ravenous with his touches. The damned tattoo was making him a bit mad. 
Regulus hummed, pressing quick kisses all over James—his chest, his neck, his arms, his cheeks, and everywhere else he could reach. “Pretty,” kiss, “pretty,” kiss, “pretty boy,” kiss, “pretty tattoo,” kiss, “you pretty fucking thing,” kisses and kisses and kisses. 
James was breathless and wriggly underneath Regulus, barely capable of forming thoughts around this heat between them. “Regulus,” he took a deep breath. “Would’ve—fuck—gotten a tattoo so much—sooner, if I’d known you’d react like this, baby.” 
Regulus gave James a look. “You just got me tattooed all over your fuckin’ hips and you don’t expect me to go absolutely feral over it? That’s on you.” 
“Got—got you—you tattooed? On my hips? Baby, they’re stars—”
“James, I’m named after a fucking star. As far as I’m concerned, you just got my name permanently inked all over you.” 
James laughed, sounding breathless and a bit hysterical. “Guess it’s your turn—next time, baby, get me permanently on you.”
He grinned back at him. “Start brainstorming, pretty boy.”
also found on ao3(multi-chapter microfic WIP):  february, i'm yours
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bellaxisworld · 2 months
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february 19, @jegulus-microfic prompt: busy. word count: 485
Regulus was sulking and pouting at home, bored and sad that his phone wasn’t lighting up from a text from James. James was busy today and Regulus’ heart was practically breaking in his chest. He huffed and moped about, watching movies that he wasn’t paying attention to and checking his phone every two minutes—just in case James texted. 
He was dozing off on the couch, hands limp from where they had been holding a book about Greek mythology, when he heard a knock on the front door. 
Wrapping his robe tightly around himself, he grumbled about the audacity of someone who dared disturb his moping. 
He whipped open the door and his mouth dropped open with a pop. 
James Potter stood in front of him, a bouquet the size of his torso in hand, brown eyes crinkling at the corners in a smile. He looked lovely, too—warm in a brown coat and dark jeans.
He was over half a foot taller than Regulus, and when he came close, Regulus’ head was at the perfect height to lay on his chest. He used a free arm to tug Regulus close; he was surrounded by the smell and feel of James, and Regulus felt okay again. He wrapped his arms tightly around James, soaking up his love and comfort for all it was worth. 
“Jamie,” Regulus breathed, looking up at James with stars in his eyes. 
James kissed his forehead. “Hi, baby. I finished early and wanted to surprise you. There’s also takeout on its way.” Regulus’ heart was bursting, warmth and comfort seeping through his body, around his bones. 
“Thank you,” he said, pulling James into a kiss. 
“How about we eat on the couch and you tell me about whichever story you’ve been reading?” James said after they broke apart.
Regulus grinned, feeling so suddenly happy, he felt like he could dance. “Yes! I have so much to share, you don’t even know half of the absolute drama of the ancient Greek people. Their audacity is astounding. First, there’s Eurydice and Orpheus—”
James shook his head fondly and pulled him towards the couch. 
Regulus talked on and on about ancient Greek mythology, not even pausing to chew his food, and James dutifully listened until Regulus was nearly breathless—perhaps he forgot to take a breath during his history lesson. He took a deep breath and James was chucking. He smiled back at him, cheeks pink, happiness permeating the air and heavy breaths between them.  
Regulus pushed forward and ran his fingers through James’ hair, scratching at his scalp and combing through. He kissed James’ nose. 
“Thank you for coming,” Regulus whispered. “Even though you were busy.”James kissed him on the mouth and Regulus felt whole. “I’ll never miss an opportunity to be around you, to hear you nerd out about dead people and mythology. I’ll always make time for you, sweetheart. Even when I’m busy.”
find the collection of february microfic prompts on ao3(19/29): february, i'm yours.
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bellaxisworld · 2 months
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february 20, @jegulus-microfic prompt: shiver. word count: 500
cw: mention of unspecified injury.
James was overly cautious regarding Regulus’ health, and Regulus was tired of it. James was hovering and mothering and Regulus just wanted to hop on his broom again and get lost in the sky. Regulus hadn't been cleared for Quidditch yet, but he figured he could get away with flying a little, just to get some fresh air. 
James had his arms crossed over his chest and a stern look in his brown eyes, peering down at Regulus. Regulus was batting his eyes at him, James’ weakness, an innocent enough smile on his lips, begging him to just break—
“Only if I go with you.” 
Regulus startled, then held out his hand to shake. “Deal.” 
This sounded like a double win, for Regulus—huddled between his boyfriend's arms, flying for the first time in weeks, hair whipping past and feeling the air on his skin. He was nearly vibrating with excitement. 
His excitement died quickly when he realized their proximity on the broom meant James would be wrapped around him and breathing down his neck. He couldn't even focus on the flying anymore, with James’ lips millimeters from his skin. He knew how those lips felt on him, kissing him, mapping him out—they were sinful, and it was very distracting for James to be so damn close. 
James' lips brushed lightly against his skin and he made a surprised noise, pushing back into James. James huffed an amused sound, and Regulus felt his breath skitter across the back of his neck. He shivered in James’ arms, skin too sensitive and close to begging James to kiss him. 
He turned his head. “Let’s land,” he yelled over the rush of air. 
James nodded dutifully and brought them to the ground, holding steady to Regulus’ waist as he hopped off the broom. “What’s wrong, baby, did I—”
Still half-sitting on the broom, Regulus collapsed into James’ arms and tugged him close in a kiss, desperate for his attention, his kisses, his every touch. James was quick to react, lifting him and holding him tight to his chest, meeting him for every kiss. 
James smiled against his mouth. He pulled away enough to say, “Eager, are we?”
Regulus looked up at him with mussed hair and pink-bitten lips. He smacked his chest lightly. “Never. I just miss you. And the flying was—something, James, i mean, merlin you were breathing down my neck—”
James smirked, squeezing his sides playful. “Oh, is that what that shiver was about then?” 
Reguous flushed, puffing out his chest. ”Merlin, shut up, shut up, you’re prettier with your mouth closed.” 
James’ eyes were dancing with amusement. He shook his head in laughter and kissed the tip of Regulus' nose. Regulus’ heart was warm and floaty as they made their way back to the castle hand in hand. James would often press kisses to the top of his curls or his cheek. He felt lighter than he had in weeks. Maybe James’ kisses were his own personal medicine. 
can also be found on ao3(microfic series 20/29): february, i'm yours.
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bellaxisworld · 3 months
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february 10, @jegulus-microfic word prompt: violin. word count: 625.
Regulus had learned, from a very young age, to be modest and shy, to never gloat, to bring as little attention to himself as possible, to hide in the shadows, to disappear, and to avoid disrupting. He learned that his opinions were worthless, and that it was better if he was quiet, obedient. An emotionless, robot statue that could only say yes, papa or yes, maman. He learned that this was the quickest way to appease his parents when they were prone to violence against a six year old. 
Be quiet. Don’t draw attention. Go unnoticed. 
This was how he stayed safe. 
And, now—standing and sweating in front of an entirely full theater audience, gripping his violin like a lifeline, he was desperate to revert to the safety of his childhood philosophy. 
Be quiet. Don’t draw attention. Go unnoticed. 
Unfortunately, he’d invested far too much into this concert to turn back now. Regulus allowed himself a millisecond to panic, and in this fraction of a second, he thought of the sun. 
Or, more accurately, he thought of his sun: James Potter. 
James spent months convincing Regulus that yes, baby, this concert is a wonderful idea. Regulus, darling, you’re so talented, you have to share your music with the world. Sweetheart, everyone will love you. Reg, you’ll make people happy, and more importantly, you’ll make you happy. James Potter was the brightest star Regulus could have ever dreamed of catching. He was witty, and kind and gentle, and he had the biggest heart. He was enthusiastic, and lovely, and he was Regulus’ greatest weakness. Regulus would have collapsed into an anxious puddle forever after his first panic-breakdown over the concert—if it weren’t for James. Playing the violin was Regulus’ second favorite thing in the world(just a smidge behind James), and it made him happy, and he was good at playing. He knew he would sell out theaters and it would grant him quite a bit of attention. 
And that was the issue. 
Regulus had spent years and years training himself to disappear. Now, he was granted the opportunity to be somebody, to do something, and Regulus didn't know how to choose something for himself for once. 
But, he did. He chose himself, and he chose his passion, and now, he was panicking in front of a full audience, which could have ended in disaster—if not for James.
James sat in the front row, blinding smile bright and relaxed as he looked at Regulus. He had unwavering faith in him. James radiated warmth, and love, and pride. He was so proud of Regulus. So Regulus looked at him, eyes shining as he gathered his courage, and he smiled down at James. James’ smile softened—because he always understood. He nodded at Regulus, an encouraging motion, and mouthed, You got this. 
Regulus was most thankful for James because James always reminded him that he needed to put himself first sometimes(it was an equal exchange—Regulus constantly reminded James to be a little selfish). 
Regulus nodded and took some strength from James, his pride and his courage, his unconditional faith in Regulus, and breathed. 
He picked up his violin, hands steady, and he played, loud and unashamed and beautiful. He played for himself, and he played for James, and he played for everyone who still believed it was better to disappear. He played with his whole heart, and he was magnificent. 
He received a standing ovation, and the first thing he did following his bow was run right into James’ arms, smiling so hard it hurt. James was so proud of him, and showered him with love, but most importantly—Regulus was proud of himself, and he promised to never again dim his own light to make others more comfortable. 
also found on ao3(multi-chapter microfic WIP): february, i'm yours.
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