#microfic tag
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@jegulus-microfic March 12, prompt: retire, words: 953
Aka optometrist reg au (part 1? maybe) loosely based off of this post
James is having trouble breathing.
The problem is, he can’t quite remember how to do it right now. His brain, rather impressively, emptied of all of its contents the moment the optometrist opened the door.
Right off the bat, the man had been straight to business; swift stride into the room, eyes glued to the clipboard in hand, a curt “hello” and introduction before he sat down and uncapped a pen with his goddamn teeth. James could only stare dumbly, mouth agape as he stumbled over half-sentient responses to the all routine eye exam questions (“See okay with your current prescription?” A black curl falling over the doctor’s otherwise perfectly framed face, cheekbones carved by the sea, like stones.
“Uh huh.”
“Taking any current medications?” Beautiful silver-blade eyes meeting his expectantly.
“Uh-“ James coughing and clearing his throat, “no. No medications.”)
Now, he's at least regained his ability to form sentences. But as James watches the doctor fiddling with machinery, silver rings glinting in harsh, sterile lighting, he is finding immense difficulty in breathing like a normal human being.
“So,” James begins, leaning to rest his elbow on the table and swelling his chest ever-so-slightly. He does his best to smooth out his voice as he speaks, going for casual with just a sprinkling of something sultry. “Dr. Black, did you say it was?” He may not be able to fully function but God help him if he can’t still flirt.
The doctor's eyes flick up for only a split second, but James counts it as a win. “That’s correct.” He maneuvers what looks like an avant-garde torture contraption towards where James is sitting. “Rest your chin on the platform.”
James does as he’s told, holding back from an absurd urge to respond with a Yes, sir. He's definitely not conjuring a medley of alternate scenarios in his head in which Dr. Black orders him around. “And what might your first name be?”
“It might be of no relevance to the matter at hand, Mr. Potter.”
“Call me James, please.”
Regulus sits on the other side of the torture-machine and begins turning dials. “You should see a red X on the right side, James,” he replies flatly. Still, the sound of his name on the man’s tongue is fucking intoxicating. It's echoing around his skull--James James James JamesJamesJames--he wants to hear it a million more times, every minute of every day until his last.
James usually hates these appointments. Hates the big machines he has to stick his face in, blowing air and shining bright lights in his eyes. Hates that stupid picture of the house that they make him look at a million times over while some old man who looks just about ready to retire asks “One or two?”
But Dr. Black is not some old man.
He’s new—James has been coming here for years and has certainly never been graced with the sight of this angel-fallen-to-earth before. He's young, too; despite the way he carries the poise of a man with years of experience under his belt, cool and confident and collected, there’s no way Dr. Black is old enough to be more than a couple years out of school. All sharp edges and smooth skin.
And god, his skin. It looks impossibly soft, stretched over slender hands and freckled cheeks, strong nose and cut jaw. As James runs his eyes hungrily over the landscapes of peach-pale skin--hills and valleys spanning the doctor's face and neck and fingers and knuckles--he considers how easy it would be to reach out and touch it, find out for himself if it's really as smooth as it looks.
“James,” Dr. Black's voice cuts sharp through his fantasy, one brow raised where he's clearly caught James drooling over him. “Please look into the eyepiece.”
It’s not like James can help it. He’s a bit entranced by the way the doctor maintains such a stoic expression, posture rigid and cold eyes unwavering, especially now. It’s all the beauty of a pointed blade, glittering in the sunlight, begging to draw blood.
But James doesn’t miss the light blush now in full bloom across the man’s cheeks. Silver-clad fingers have begun tapping a sporadic pattern on the table as storm cloud eyes sweep down and back up James' face, quick as a flash of lightning, and isn’t that just curious? Suddenly, James wants to know what it would take to get that stone-cold cast to crack.
He shoots back a sly grin. “Sure thing, nameless doctor.” He looks into the contraption. “Oh would you look at that. A red X.”
The doctor lets out a muted sigh. He fidgets some more with the dials and buttons on the other side of the machine as James watches the X shift in and out of focus. He breaks the silence only when it's stretched for just a moment too long. “My name is Regulus. There’s gonna be a bright flash now.”
Immediately, a blinding white light flashes directly into his eye, burning a goddamn hole into his field of vision. He swears he can see the inside of his pupil for a moment.
But James doesn't care. Once the shock subsides, he finds himself grinning ear-to-ear.
Now we're getting somewhere.
He looks back up from the eyepiece to where the doctor, Regulus, is still intently focused on the computer and equipment. Evading James' gaze. Cheeks still pink.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Regulus.”
#I can’t get them out of my head#so here’s a small little thing#didn’t even rlly finish the scene so might continue it some time#laughing at james trying to puff out his chest and strike a pose at this eye exam#james potter#regulus black#jegulus#starchaser#jegulus microfic#james potter x regulus black#jegulus fanfiction#jegulus fic#sunseeker#marauders#james x regulus#writing stuff and things#microfic tag
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@croptopjames submission | 1.5k words | NSFW - dom/sub, praise, degradation, spanking, gagging
Dedicating this to euge @ecstarry for brainrotting with me and lune @sommerregenjuniluft because we talked about dancer james once. Love you guys <3
Regulus walks the length of the studio assessing the attire of his dancers. He has a strict policy of professionalism that he makes no exceptions for, and James has been pushing his luck recently.
He had hired James as an apprentice only a few months ago, but he was already regretting the decision. Not because of James’ abilities, but because of his utter lack of respect.
James is a brilliant dancer, don’t get him wrong. He came from the most prestigious modern dance conservatory in the country, and Regulus had managed to sign him right out of school.
He’s inclined to say James wasn’t worth the work, but that wouldn’t be completely true. He may make Regulus’ life a living hell, but he’s fucking gorgeous on stage, all lean muscles and strong lines. It’s captivating to watch, even more so when he gets to see it up close.
As Regulus makes his way across the room, he catches sight of James in the back sporting gray joggers and— he has to take a minute to register what he’s seeing. Is that a fucking crop top?
James just flashes a knowing smirk, staring Regulus down. He’s been called out for wardrobe infractions at least three times this month, and it’s starting to get old.
“Sirius,” Regulus calls out to his brother, but more importantly, his rehearsal director. “Can you start the warm up? I need to have a word with Potter.”
A few snickers sound throughout the studio because his employees can be fucking children sometimes, and Sirius nods, getting up from his spot on the floor.
Regulus turns toward the door, knowing James will follow him, and makes his way to his office down the hall.
He only has to stand behind his desk for a minute, arms crossed, before James waltzes in, closing the door behind him.
“This is grossly unprofessional, you do realize that,” Regulus deadpans.
“I do realize that,” James responds innocently, batting his lashes.
Regulus runs his eyes over the man standing in front of him, something he didn’t want to do in front of everyone in the studio.
The top hits a few inches above his navel and exposes the soft lines of his abs and a stripe of dark hair that trails beneath his joggers.
“Eyes up here,” James says, bringing Regulus’ attention back to the matter at hand.
He gives James a stern look and leans forward on his desk.
“How many times do I have to tell you this won’t be tolerated in my company?” he asks.
James’ eyes darken and he leans forward to mirror Regulus. “Not sure. Will you tell me again?”
The audacity of this man… Well, Regulus thinks, maybe it’ll stick this time.
He reaches across the table casually, stroking a hand across James’ face. The dancer leans into it, fluttering his eyes shut for a moment, before Regulus reaches around his head to grab a fistful of his hair.
James opens his eyes and a slanted smile pulls at his mouth.
“Keep your hands on the table,” Regulus says before pushing James’ head down onto his desk. “Don’t move.”
James goes willingly, bending in half over the desk like a dream.
Regulus walks around to stand behind him, admires the curve of his ass and the ridges of his spine where they’re exposed under his shirt. He runs his fingers over them, eliciting a small shiver from James.
Regulus dips his hands into the waistband of James’ joggers, sinking his nails into the soft skin, before roughly pushing his pants down around his ankles.
James’ breathing picks up, his anticipation getting the better of him. Regulus would love to draw this out, but he’s afraid he hasn’t got the time today.
He smacks James’ ass once, causing the other man to jolt and let out a soft whine.
“Stay quiet,” Regulus commands.
James nods in confirmation. A lie, most likely.
Regulus lets a finger wander through the cleft of James’ ass, circling his rim in slow and deliberate movements. He keeps his eyes on James’ face where it’s pressed against his desk. His eyes are shut, mouth open.
“You’re so pretty like this,” Regulus says. “When you’re not talking back to me.”
James makes a needy noise pressing his hips back onto Regulus’ finger, searching for a fullness he knows is coming.
Regulus smacks him again across the same spot as before. “Don’t get greedy. You know how this works.”
James nods again looking at Regulus now. His pupils are absolutely blown and it’s all Regulus can think about. The desperate want in his eyes.
“Tell me,” Regulus instructs.
James rolls his eyes back as he starts to lightly circle his rim again.
“Words, James.”
“You’re in charge,” James breathes.
“And I can do whatever I want with you,” Regulus adds.
“Whatever you want.”
“Good boy.” Regulus pulls his hand away again, but James doesn’t get a chance to protest before it’s being pushed into his mouth. “Now suck.”
James moans around his fingers, hollowing his cheeks and making a show out of it. He knows this undoes Regulus every time, watching as he listens so well, follows every command. It’s a high he’ll be riding for the rest of rehearsal.
“That’s right baby, get them nice and wet for me,” Regulus praises, bringing his other hand up to grab at James’ hip, keep him from moving too much.
When spit starts to drip down his chin, Regulus pulls his fingers away, and the noise James makes is fucking filthy. A keen he’s sure the whole company just heard, and that just won’t fly.
Regulus moves his hand from James’ hip up into his hair, yanking him back until he’s hovering above the desk.
“James, what did I fucking say,” Regulus hisses. “Do you need something in your mouth? Hm? Such a slut for it you can’t follow simple directions?”
James moans loudly, a please falling from his lips somewhere in there.
Regulus releases him and he falls back onto the desk with a whine.
Going back around his desk, Regulus fishes through his bottom drawer with his clean hand, finding what he’s looking for. A dress code appropriate t-shirt he keeps for times like these, when James just can’t help himself. He shoves it in James’ mouth harshly then pats him on the cheek.
“There you go baby. Now you can tell me just how much you like it.”
And James does without a second thought, immediately filling the room with muffled noises.
Regulus resumes his position behind the dancer, running his spit-slick fingers against James’ hole.
“Ready?” He asks.
James is a mess, barely there at this point even though Regulus hasn’t even done anything, but he nods anyway, and Regulus pushes a finger in slowly.
“Always so tight for me baby.”
“Mmph,” James moans around the shirt. He tries to fuck his hips forward into nothing, desperate for some friction against his neglected cock, but Regulus holds him still. He should know by now that he’ll stay untouched until Regulus allows it.
Once he feels James is ready, he adds another finger, leaning down to spit into the place where they slide into James. He increases the speed, crooking them to brush the spot that reduces James to a moaning mess.
He sees James’ eyes roll back again as he makes a muffled sound, so debauched and fucked out already.
For the first time, Regulus notices his own wetness pooling in his briefs, but he ignores it. This isn’t about him.
“Can you be a good boy and take another,” Regulus asks, and James nods enthusiastically. If he wasn't gagged, Regulus knows he’d be begging, has heard it enough times to memorize the sound.
Regulus pulls out completely, watching James’ hole flutter briefly around nothing, before pushing three fingers back in.
James balls his fists against the desk, barely moving his hips, trying so hard to be good. Regulus decides to cut him some slack.
“Fuck yourself on them baby, it’s okay.”
James obeys immediately, pushing his hips back wildly and making ungodly sounds that he wishes he could hear unobstructed.
Caught up in the image of James losing control, Regulus reaches around to touch his neglected cock where it’s been leaking onto the floor. He collects the precome beading at the tip to soften the slide, and pumps James slowly in time with the movement of his hips.
“You close? Gonna come for me?” Regulus asks, sugar sweet.
James barely responds, but the crease between his eyebrows gives him away. Regulus knows it means he’s heading toward the edge of the cliff.
Quickly, before it’s too late, Regulus pulls his hand away, pulls his fingers out, leaving James empty and neglected once again.
He smacks James’s ass roughly, then digs his fingers into the flesh, punishing.
Leaning forward, he puts his mouth right up against James’ ear, “Only good boys get to come, James. I expect you back in rehearsal in five minutes wearing that shirt in your mouth.”
James sobs into the fabric, ruined and undoubtedly aching, and Regulus leaves him there to clean himself up.
Maybe this time he’ll finally learn his lesson.
#croptopjamesfest#jegulus#regulus black#james potter#regulus x james#james x regulus#starchaser#sunseeker#marauders au#marauders fanfic#jegulus microfic#sub james potter#dom regulus black#lane writes#microfic tag#dancer au
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@jegulus-microfic | january 3, prompt: ruthless | word count: 1.422 featuring pornstars jegulus! NSFW
“They’re going off-script, why are they going off-script?” Barty grits out, confined to the sidelines since he’s part of the camera crew and not the main act, one hand firmly gripping the tripod’s handle as the other waves the booklet in front of Evan’s face.
Because Regulus is sprawled out on the bed on his back, his harness and strap-on discarded on the floor, purple rubber still glistening from where it had been seven inches deep inside James moments prior. His thighs are spread wide by the broad palms and pinned to the mattress as his set partner crawls between them, face still flush from exertion and hair in total disarray as a result of Regulus’ constant pulling and shoving.
The position is not a total mystery, no. Regulus had been in the industry for over a year now, a short span of time during which he had climbed the rank listings and breached the top ten, now striving after the top five together with James Potter, arrogantly self-proclaimed oral king by the looks of it, always needing something in his mouth to satisfy him or shut him up, take your pick. The entire set had been arranged by both their managers, going off on tangents about how they have impeccable chemistry on-screen (combined with Regulus’ superb acting abilities). It’s their second time shooting a video together, considering how their first had broken the record just three weeks ago, and neither Pandora nor Lily had wasted a second to get them together in a room again.
“What are you doing?” Regulus hisses as James’ mouth works a burning trail down his chest, tongue laving over the latticework of bruises and the lovebites blooming. He tries very hard not to lean into it, wards off the urge to chase after the hot cavern the ventures dangerously low.
“Going down on you,” James whispers into his stomach, quiet enough for the microphones not to pick up. Even if they did, it could be edited out afterward.
“I was supposed to go down on you, remember?” Regulus retorts, mentally convincing himself he’s only keeping his legs open for the camera. It’s not like he’s been wondering if James’ mouth is the real deal as many others have made it out to be. Not at all.
“I already came and you didn’t, so I’m just returning the favor before we move on,” James mumbles into his thighs, masking the speaking movements of his mouth by kissing the skin.
“You’re wasting your energy.” Then, the little light of Dorcas’ camera across them flickers, indicating it’s Regulus they’re focusing on. He makes a show of letting out a pleased sigh, craning his neck, and throwing back his head so his face can’t be recorded. It allows him to talk. “I don’t feel like cumming, so just let me do my job. Besides, I doubt you could get me off like this anyway.”
Blatant fucking lie. James undoubtedly notices because he stifles a snort into his leg.
“Sure thing, love.”
Regulus’ jaw ticks and he winds his fingers into James’ hair, reprimand ready on the tip of his tongue, dying off into a choked gasp when the flat of a thick, broad tongue runs a long stripe through his folds.
And the thing is, it’s not just his mouth. Because James’ hands wander, alternating between gripping his hips and roaming upwards to flick his nipples, taking them between his forefinger and thumb to stimulate—rub, pull, gently squeeze all the while his tongue dips in and out of him, gathering the wetness there, swallowing it, moaning at the taste, stopping and only letting the hotness of his breath ghost over Regulus’ dripping core. Building anticipation. Teasing. Lips slick and just as swollen as he is, spreading him open wider just so the camera can get a clear-cut image of how James leans in again, thumb pulling up the hood, mouth this time aimed at Regulus’ cock.
James’ tongue is ruthless.
Licking, sucking, humming around Regulus and sending the vibrations roiling through his spine, static shooting into his skull, paralyzing the rest of him. Using his nose for friction if it’s his tongue that’s too occupied fucking in and out of him, thumbs eagerly pressed into the divots of his hips.
“Jesus fucking Chr—” The words pathetically drop in pitch, bleeding into a low whine as Regulus’ hips buck, James’ mouth only following the undulations. He swirls his tongue, pulls him into his mouth, and sucks until the wet, sloppy sounds of his mouth no longer rise above the ringing flooding Regulus’ ears. He moans, fingers pulling onto the thick curls until it leaves James whining between his legs as well. “Oh, fuck.”
“Oh, fuck, indeed,” Barty whispers from to the side. “Holy shit, he’s making it look so real.”
“Am I about to tell you something,” Evan mutters, adjusting the sound settings.
Regulus arches off the bed, writhing in place against the steel hold on his hips, the balls of his feet digging painfully deep into James’ back when he feels the pressure building low in his stomach, pleasure pooling low below his spine.
“I’m not going to cum,” Regulus gasps out, not giving a fuck how loud it comes out. Between his clenched thighs, James chuckles, its rumbling reverberating through each and every one of his nerves as he pulls off his cock with a wet pop.
“Yes, you will,” James answers, kissing his cock before biting into his thigh. “Because I’m going to make you.”
The mouth leaving him punches a little, pitiful sound of protest out of Regulus, one he will most certainly deny and demand be edited out. Though, right now, he’s too strung out to care. Regulus’ eyes droop down, watching how James leaves the little space between his legs, strings of spit and wetness breaking off into the air as he crawls up onto his knees.
Everything moves rather swiftly afterward. The excited noise filling the room might have either been his or Barty’s, but none of it matters when James grabs Regulus by the back of his knees and pins them down, nearly folding him in half before he continues his mouth’s assault, urging the tightening knot low in his abdomen to unravel.
There’s the tongue inside of him, on him, in him, around him—circling, pulling, teasing, drawing out the most guttural of moans when he feels the graze of teeth. The entirety of Regulus swallowed by James’ mouth, consumed with the sort of deprivation only the taste of him can alleviate if the desperate sucking is anything to go by. Regulus’ legs shake, body twitching in place, fingers curled so tightly around handfuls of curls when he chokes out a weak, “I’m not—I’m not going to—”
James groans a muffled command, fingers digging deep into his thighs, the splay of stray strands across his stomach, muscles pulled taut, the fluorescent lightning above, that stupid fucking tongue, the sole bane of his existence—
Regulus cries out a soundless rasp, like his voice has left him together with his soul, entire body convulsing, head thrown back on the arrangement of pillows as his eyes roll back into their sockets.
Worst of all, James doesn’t stop, only grunts in response as Regulus gushes over his tongue, making a dangerous sound stuck low in his throat when the hand on his head tries to push him away.
“Stop,” Regulus squeaks out. Squeaks, because that’s how terribly low he’s fallen. The overstimulation is a lot, pleasure overwhelming like his brain is threatening to come oozing out of his ears, and next thing you know the video will be titled ‘James Potter managed to make exalted Regulus Black cry with his orgasm’.
“Please, please s’too much—” Regulus tries again, almost sobbing out a breath of relief when James does finally lift his head with a gasp, his entire fucking face slick from where it had been buried inside Regulus.
“Fucking hell,” Barty hisses in the back, vocalizing Regulus’ internal monologue. “Cut! Fucking, cut the cameras! Pause! Water! Bring this fucker some water before he passes out—”
A flurry of movement in the background, the noises fading into white noise as Regulus’ legs are lowered back onto the bed. James hovers above him, the spit-slick grin almost blinding, or that’s just the stars blinking in Regulus’ vision.
“You were saying?” James asks, teasingly touching Regulus’ puffy cock, laughing when it rewards him with a full-body shudder.
Regulus weakly wacks him in the chest. “Go fuck… Yourself.”
#jegulus#james potter#regulus black#jegulus fanfiction#marauders#marauders au#jegulus microfic#starchaser#sunseeker#marauders fanfiction#this one is also for mil#happy birthday babygirl#hope u enjoy reading this and building the lego flowers#ino microfic tag!
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"Too long" a microfic with a lovely prompt by @fromagony
He hated how much James had an effect on him. But after having a crush on him for as long as Regulus had, well, being trapped in a car with him for the next two hours was sure to affect him. James was wearing a crimson sweater and had rolled up the sleeves just enough for his forearms to be exposed. Regulus felt pathetic by just how easily even that made him yield.
When Regulus was younger, he made a silly rule that for a man to be truly sexy, he must look hot doing at least one of these two things: driving or playing sports. And James Potter looked delectable doing both.
He was certain that his attempt to conceal his feelings were utterly unsuccessful, and James was someone for whom grand gestures came as a second nature. So, if he felt anything for Regulus, surely it would’ve been clear by now.
Regulus knew that, but sometimes, there was something in the way James’ hand brushed his back when he was passing behind him, or how he looked at him for a second too long, that Regulus allowed himself to think that maybe, just maybe, James felt something in return, even if not as intensely.
Now here they were, alone for the next couple of hours, about to head for his brother’s birthday party.
“Oh could you pass me th-” James leaned in and pointed at something, but as he did Regulus had turned around to face him.
Inches.
They were inches apart from each other.
And there it was, hope peaking through in James’ gaze, it was all honey and soft and adoring. Neither dared to move, their eyes asking desperate questions but their hearts too scared to answer. James leaned closer, just slightly, pleading for any reaction from the man in front of him. Regulus closed his eyes in surrender and James responded.
They naturally found each other, soft and tender. Their lips had barely touched when James’ hand found his way towards Regulus' seatbelt and unlocked it. His hands grabbed onto Regulus’ waist, James’ desire grew as a soft moan escaped Regulus’ mouth, he savored the feeling of being touched by James for the very first time.
They kissed senselessly, lost in each other. Regulus was unforgiving; he had wanted this for too long to allow any space between them now. He needed James there, their lips touching for an eternity, and even then, he knew it would never feel like enough.
more microfics here
#jegulus#marauders#james potter#regulus black#gay dead wizards#james x regulus#starchaser#sunseeker#jegulus fanfiction#jegulus microfic#microfic#rab#jfp#regulus x james#agon tag <3
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jegulus micro(?)fic — 2,213 words. nsfw; the ‘James-desperately-needs-something-in-his-mouth’ episode
(dedicated to my dear darling @imdamagecontrol<3)
James’ hands flex in and out of fists behind his back, wrists straining against silk tied in a firm knot around them. In reality, if he squirmed enough he could probably worm his way out of the restraint, it’s just one of Regulus’ ties, after all. But that’s not really the point.
The point, actually, is that James needs this.
He’s been so stressed lately, juggling more than he can properly carry, and it’s started to weigh on him. Make him overwhelmed. Change his mood enough to be apparent. Typically, he does a good job at hiding it, but some days…
Some days the itch beneath his skin gets a little too insistent. Some days his tone turns clipped and his mannerisms become twitchy and all that he feels is suddenly visible.
And those days, well. Those days pile up, to the point that he needs a good break.
Regulus doesn’t particularly enjoy it when he lets himself get so deep in it —there’s been pointed comments about taking care of himself over the last couple days as he’s noticed progressive changes in James. So when James had come home today after yet another long one, feeling ready to tear right out of his own skin, he’d asked.
“Can you take care of me tonight?”
Once he’d made sure he understood what it was James was asking for, Regulus was quick to give him just what he needed. A loose hold at his throat, a level stare as he pulled him inches away from his face.
A promise between the lines of Regulus’ murmured, “Be good and wait for me.”
He’d waited on the floor at the foot of the bed for ten minutes after stripping down to just his briefs, knees twinging as he tried to balance his weight more comfortably. Then Regulus had come in, wordlessly giving him a once-over before he undressed. He’d muttered gentle praises when James had let him tug both arms behind his back, Regulus securing his tie around his wrists.
Now, a familiar hand brushes his cheek, trails down to his neck. Regulus thumbs at his Adam’s apple and James swallows beneath it, staring at the jut of Regulus’ hip bone where he stands in front of him.
“Alright?” Regulus checks, hand curling loosely around his throat, pulling him close again, just like earlier.
James inhales deeply where his nose presses right above Regulus’ navel. He leaves a gentle kiss there, nods his head. The hand at his throat tightens.
“Use your words,” Regulus instructs.
“I’m good.”
James traces his tongue downward, through the thin trail of dark hair that disappears beneath the waistband of Regulus’ briefs. He catches the elastic between his teeth, tugs at it, lets it snap back against porcelain skin. Ducking lower, James mouths at the outline of Regulus’ cock, tongue wetting the fabric and feeling the way he’s slowly filling out under the attention. Regulus allows it for a few seconds more, a low hum leaving him that has heat pooling low in James’ stomach.
The pressure at James’ throat shifts and Regulus’ fingers sink into his dark hair, grip slowly tightening, palm a solid weight at the nape of his neck. His other hand tucks beneath James’ chin, his head guided into tilting backward between the two. James blinks slow, looks up toward Regulus’ face from beneath his lashes. Breathes deep. Waits.
“What do you need tonight, James?” Regulus asks; his voice is honey, thick and sweet and dripping warmth down every groove of James’ spine.
He keeps James’ chin in the curl of his fingers but stretches his thumb to trace a slow circle around his mouth. He leaves it pressed against James’ bottom lip, James darting his tongue out at it for the briefest taste. One brow arches as Regulus looks down at him.
“Something in your mouth, maybe?”
When all James does his nod, Regulus tugs sharply at the back of his hair —an unspoken demand. James’ mouth drops open, a soft gasp between parted lips.
“Yes,” He whines. “Please.”
“There you go, baby, that’s so good,” Regulus hums.
James’ lips twitch helplessly when Regulus moves to readjust his glasses for him. It’s such a tiny gentleness, a common show of his care for him, no matter how out of place it may seem in a moment like this.
The fond appreciation that unfurls warmth in his chest is derailed in seconds by the shift of Regulus’ foot, nudging between his thighs, pressing. James’ eyelids flutter as he sucks in a shallow breath. His hips twitch forward against the barely-there pressure on his cock, hard and aching in his own briefs.
“Do you think you deserve it?” Regulus asks.
He tugs at James’ hair again to jerk his head back further, presses his foot more firmly between his legs. James is already starting to feel dizzy with it; the waiting, the care, the teasing, all building into a burning buzz that’s much more pleasant than the anxious itch that’s bothered him for days. He rocks against Regulus’ foot with a shaking, needy sound crawling up his throat.
“I need it, baby.”
“But that’s not what I asked this time, is it?” Regulus counters, tone vaguely patronizing.
It shouldn’t make James’ cock twitch the way that it does, really. Shouldn’t make him unable to bank a whimper when he rocks his hips forward again.
“Do you think you deserve it?” Regulus repeats. He inches his foot away, and James whines in protest. “God, listen to you. You really do need it, don’t you?”
James nods urgently, breath hitching in his chest. “I do. Please, Regulus.”
It’s a miracle he doesn’t whimper another time when Regulus takes a small step backward, all touch falling away from him. The silver lining is watching him tuck a thumb into either side of the band on his briefs, pulling them down and stepping out of them.
Wanting eyes immediately land on Regulus’ cock the second it’s in front of him. Even the huff of Regulus chuckling above him doesn’t draw his focus away. He watches intently as Regulus wraps a hand around himself and strokes slowly.
Blown pupils hide nearly all the grey of Regulus’ irises when James finally glances up at his face again. He shifts up straighter on his knees, mouth falling open already when Regulus steps forward. A smirk tugs at the corners of Regulus’ lips and his free hand sinks into James’ hair.
He pauses in guiding his cock to James’ waiting mouth, slick head nudging his bottom lip. “What do you say?”
“Thank you.” Punches breathlessly out of James in an instant.
Regulus’ smirk inches wider and he gives a single nod. It’s all the go ahead James needs to tilt forward and finally —finally— take him into his mouth. The grip in his hair tightens as James swallows his length down, letting the weight of him settle on his tongue. He hums appreciatively around him, keeping his motions shallow to hit the back of his throat each time.
Despite the tight hold on his hair, Regulus lets James move as desired. His wrists strain against the silk around them when he instinctively wants to reach forward and balance his hands on Regulus’ thighs, but he’ll make do. He always does.
After a little while, Regulus’ other hand joins the first in his hair. He halts James’ continued movements and holds him in place.
James moans the second he starts fucking into his mouth, eyes rolling back. There’s spit collected at the corners of his mouth, sliding down his chin. Each snap of Regulus’ hips has his cock hitting the back of his throat, his moans turning garbled and wet —filthy— while Regulus looses a winded string of swears.
“This— fuck—” Regulus hisses when he thrusts forward again and James swallows, letting him feel the way his throat tightens. “This is exactly what you needed, isn’t that right, baby?”
James hums his answer, eyelids fluttering as he opens glassy eyes to look up. There’s tears building at the corners, and on a particularly hard snap of Regulus’ hips one rolls hotly down his cheek. His cheeks burn, that and the panted breaths out his nose fogging up the bottom of his glasses lenses.
James doesn’t fucking care. He doesn’t care about any of it. Let Regulus make a complete mess of him. Let Regulus use him as he sees fit.
This is all James wanted, what he needed. To release the tension he’s been feeling for days, to give up the vice grip he’s tried to maintain on control of anything at all. To be taken care of in this way; something filling his mouth and Regulus just taking from him.
He knows when Regulus is close; words are no longer manageable and his thighs tremble, thrusts becoming erratic. James expects him to come down his throat, is awaiting the burst of warmth, ready to eagerly swallow all he has to give him. But abruptly, Regulus yanks at his hair with both hands, tugging him off.
James whines brokenly, a thick string of drool connecting the corner of his mouth and Regulus’ cock. His throat is wrecked; it’s a pitiful, pathetic sounding thing when he manages a desperate, “No.”
Panting, Regulus shakes his head back and forth. One hand moves from James’ hair, thumb breaking the string of spit when he smears the slickness surrounding James’ mouth. Making an even bigger mess of him. James licks after it, twists his tongue around it, trying to be enticing, trying to get him back inside.
Regulus drops his hand entirely, grips his cock instead. He stares intently down at him, demands from between his teeth, “Keep your tongue out for me.”
Wanting to be good and knowing what’s next, James obliges. Regulus drags his hand in hurried tugs over his cock and he watches hungrily. Anticipation burns a fire in James’ veins, sends his pulse roaring in his ears, as he waits, spit pooling in his open mouth, dripping more down his chin.
It’s a minute more before Regulus cries out, head thrown back and hips lurching forward as he comes. Hot strips of white land on James’ top lip, his tongue, his glasses. Cum drips down the one lens to land on his cheek and James can’t hold back a whimper, mouth still open. He hasn’t been told to close it yet.
“Fucking Christ,” Regulus groans, hand slowing over himself as he comes down from his orgasm.
His chest is as flushed as his face, heaving with uneven breaths, and he’s fucking gorgeous like this. Wrung out and a little wobbly on his legs, shiny-eyed and out of breath. James feels just as high as Regulus looks. Even with his cock still painfully hard and leaking in his briefs, his knees throbbing when he shifts his weight for the first time in too long.
Regulus finally lets go of his length, gripping James’ slick chin instead. He swipes his thumb through the cum on James’ lip, his cheek. Collects what he can from his face, and dips a little into James’ waiting mouth to wipe it off onto his tongue a few times. Gathering as much as he can for him.
Finally, Regulus tells him, “Swallow, baby.”
James does without hesitation, moaning at the familiar taste down his throat. There’s still cum on his glasses, blurrily obscuring his view of Regulus on the one side when he blinks heavy lidded eyes up at him.
“You did so good, James.” The praise has James’ lips curling in a lopsided smile, dazed in the best way. He hums his thanks, throat too sore for immediate words, but Regulus doesn’t demand that of him this time. “Do you feel better?”
It’s a mockery of a bobble head on a dashboard when James nods hurriedly in answer. His head’s a little fuzzy still, breath slowly returning to normal for himself. A different high entirely for his comedown.
“Come on.” Regulus bends down to help James to his feet then reaches behind him to undo the tie from his wrists. “We should clean you up, you’re a mess.”
“Good,” James replies, voice rough, lazy grin widening.
Regulus rolls his eyes, but there’s no denying the affection in his gaze. He rubs at James’ wrists when his hands are brought between them and James hums quietly.
“I’ll take care of you in the shower, okay?” He murmurs, eyes darting downward.
“Y’already did, baby,” James points out.
Regulus lifts a brow. “Sorry, did you not also feel like coming tonight?”
James clears his throat in order to more clearly joke, “I think if you so much as breathed on my cock right now it’d probably be over for me.”
Shaking his head, Regulus snorts, muttering a fond ‘idiot’ beneath his breath. He leans in to press a kiss to James’ cheek, recoiling when James turns his head and nuzzles into the side of his neck, smearing leftover drool on his skin.
“Go. Bathroom, now.” Regulus points to the open bedroom door, but the control in his voice is gone; it’s half a laugh —blushing and breathless and beautiful.
James smiles adoringly at him, gives him a mock salute, and follows his instruction just the same.
#jegulus#starchaser#sunseeker#jegulus fanfiction#drops this in the dead of night and runs#-jazz hands-#had a brain itch for a “silly little smut moment” and here we are. 2K words later#s/o to nic and us talking about being deeply unserious while writing smut#i wrote this entirely on my phone while wrapped in a blanket burrito so…#have fun! (james certainly did lmfao)#kay’s writing#kay’s microfics#<-simply just not a microfic anymore but oh well#nic tag<3
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@jegulus-microfic / feb 26 / bed / 576 words
“No fucking way.”
It took James a few seconds to place the voice. He was barely awake, only just aware of the warm body flushed against his own, the eucalyptus scent his nose was buried in, and Barty Crouch Jr, who he thought was trying to whisper, but was really just hissing words louder than most peoples’ standard volume. He pushed his face deeper into soft hair, feeling Regulus pull James’ arms in closer to himself where he wrapped them around him.
“Are you seeing this shit, Ev?” Barty continued, and James struggled to resist groaning. He wanted nothing more than to be left alone, basking in the blissful feeling of waking up next to Regulus for as long as physically possible, but he knew that his chances of being left alone would decrease greatly if he showed any sign of wanting it. He didn’t know Regulus’ friends very well, but you pick up a few things about people when obsessed with their best friend, and Barty and Evan seemed like the kind of guys who would cut their own arms off if they knew it’d so much as slightly inconvenience you.
“I am,” Evan confirmed, mock horror blending with amusement.
“They’re shirtless.” He practically gasped, and James thought Barty sounded far too offended for someone he’d seen sticking his tongue down Evan’s throat many times over breakfast.
“I can’t wait to tell the girls about this.”
“Oh, absolutely,” Barty said, and the two lead into a long conversation about just how hilarious Dorcas and Pandora’s reactions would be. James was seconds away from cursing both of them into oblivion for disturbing his peace when Regulus shifted from in front of him. He let out a distressed noise, gripping tighter to stop him from getting out of bed, and Evan and Barty fell silent for the first time since waking, seeming to finally notice that the pair they were talking about were awake.
“Let go, James,” Regulus mumbled, voice still not fully recovered from sleep. James just whined again. “I’ll be right back, okay?”
James huffed, still not entirely happy to let Regulus leave, but loosened his grip nonetheless and felt as Regulus slowly got up.
“He’s never this bloody nice to us in bed.” Barty grumbled, quickly followed by a shout of “Ow, what the fuck!” and the sound of something being thrown across the dorm.
“If you value your lives, you’ll leave. Now.”
Evan and Barty just snorted. “Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Evan laughed, and Barty called “See you at breakfast!” as the door opened and they clambered out.
Regulus sighed as he stepped back closer to the bed again. “Sorry about them, they’re idiots.”
James finally opened his eyes to see Regulus looking down at him from above, light framing his head like a halo, as beautiful as ever. James, despite all his prior whingeing, couldn’t help but smile up at him. He could barely believe he was really here after so long of never letting himself imagine it, limiting the way his stomach would flip over the boy to impossible fantasies and daydreams, but there he was. The dungeons were much colder than the Gryffindor dorms, but James couldn’t deny the warmth that spread through him anyway.
So, when Regulus sat down on the edge of the bed and James rose to lean into his side, he knew he was telling the truth when he said, “S’alright baby, just glad to be here.”
#microfish tag#marauders#fanfiction#jegulus#regulus black#james potter#jegulus microfic#marauders fanfiction
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Hands. Who knew?
@steddiemicrofic written for the prompt: "edge" | rating: G | wc: 509 | cw: none
It catches him off-guard when it happens. Eddie has never really thought too much about hands. Sure, he likes how his own hands look covered in silver and he knows the effect dramatically steepled hands can have when prompting a party of adventurers on their next move in the face of danger. He's also had a girl here or there look a little too long at his hands from the edge of what the Hideout counts as a stage while he had been shredding his heart out; comparing their hand sizes afterwards in a move that always worked on him more for its boldness than the hand thing itself. His hands are just... part of him. An important part, for sure, they're what he uses to write and draw and play guitar until his fingers bleed but also a part he has never consciously wasted a thought on.
So he isn't ready for the way it makes him feel to have Steve push the palms of their hands together to compare while still talking about... something. Basketball, maybe. Something about holding balls? In the back of his mind there is a voice telling Eddie to make a joke but he can't make the thoughts connect. Eddie's hands aren't small by any means but Steve's are bigger. His fingers longer. They're peeking out from behind Eddie's. Thicker too. His whole palm wider. Radiating heat.
And while Eddie is still grappling with that view and the thoughts that follow, Steve continues to manipulate his hand whichever way strikes his fancy. Looking at his rings, tapping them one by one in a rhythm that makes sense only to him. Following the last one with his own finger while turning the whole hand so the palm faces upwards. He starts tracing the lines there - softly, so softly - following the outline of Eddie's fingers with the edge of his fingernail. Had Eddie's hands always been this sensitive? The threat of a shiver begins building at the back of his neck. Steve starts paying special attention to the calluses at Eddie's fingertips, tapping his own fingertips against them.
Eddie only becomes aware that Steve had fallen silent when he starts speaking again, "You know... I used to be good at this... knowing if someone was into me." Tap tap tap. A self-deprecating laugh, "or not into me, that's been happening a lot..."
A few more soft taps, like he's steeling himself for something, a determined look on his face though his gaze remains locked on their hands.
"But with you, I... I don't know. I can't imagine, like, platonically holding my buddy's hand. But everything you do is so out of the ordinary to me. Maybe you do?" Everything seems far away except for the heat of Steve's hands on his and his words echoing in Eddie's head.
"...Fuck it." Steve wraps his fingers under Eddie's, his thumb on top and makes devastating world-shattering eye contact while he presses the softest kiss onto Eddie's knuckles.
"Are you? Into me? Because I'm so very into you."
#this got away from me i'm not gonna lie#steddie#steddie microfic#prompt: edge#steddie fic#eddie munson#steve harrington#hey i'm talkin' here#i should probably invest in an actual writing tag#steddiemicroficfebruary#why is this so nerve-wracking
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"one step closer"
written for day 7 of january for @jegulus-microfic with the prompt "headache" totaling 317 words
“Hey James?” Sirius walked into their dorm bedroom after visiting with Regulus. The two brothers tried to get with each other and do something, whether it be sit next to each in silence and do their own individual things, or go outside and play quidditch.
James set down his quill, “yeah mate?" He asks.
“So, Regulus asked me a funny question.” Sirius came and sat down next to James and looked at him inquisitively. “He asked me why you weren't in class today? Which, I admit, seems like a pretty normal thing to ask. But” He adds emphasis on the ‘but’ and leans forward in his chair. “He rarely asks me about my friends, and when he does, he makes insolent jokes, he doesn't check up on you? So.” He leans back, clasps his hands, and places them on his lap as if expecting an answer.
The reason why James was not in class today was because he had a headache and he simply did not feel like going. Besides, what was one day of missed class? James knew he would be missing out on seeing Regulus that period, but his pounding headache was all he could think about.
“I’m not quite sure what you want me to say, Pads?”
Sirius shrugs, “I’m not either, but I just found it a little odd he cared; but my brother is a mysterious person, so I shouldn't have expected anything else.” He laughs and grabs his own school books out of his bag and begins to work on some assignments due.
James, on the other hand, was not sure he could go back to working on his assignments. His thoughts of Regulus caring about him, Regulus asking Sirius about him, had James lost in thought. This little development meant so many doors opened for James, and damn him if he wasn't going to use at least one of them.
classes start up again tomorrow rip sleep
-a.s.
#james potter#regulus black#jegulus#starchaser#sunseeker#james x regulus#regulus x james#james loves regulus#james fleamont potter#regulus arcturus black#the marauders#maraduers#jegulus fic#jegulus microfic#addisonstars#addisonstars mircofic tag#addisonstars jegulus microfic tag:#im having so much writing these little fics#so much fun
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prompt: needle (april 3rd). 463 words. @jegulus-microfic. thank you to @spacexcowgirl for this idea <3
“What is that?”
James, who’d been absentmindedly looking for something in the fridge, snaps his gaze to Regulus, who’s standing frozen in the hall, eyes glued to the strip of James’ skin that’d been exposed when he’d raised an arm, leaning it up against the door of the fridge.
“What’s what?” James says, absentmindedly.
“The—”
Regulus cuts himself off, and then walks over to James. Quickly, he slips his hand under James’ shirt, and lifts it slightly, revealing a patch of skin wrapped in Saniderm and inky, black swirls underneath.
“That,” Regulus states.
“Oh,” James replies. “It’s a tattoo.”
Regulus feels little alarm bells go off in his brain. James is allowed to get a tattoo, of course—Regulus isn’t going to ban his boyfriend from that. But, Regulus would like to think that James might, at the very least, ask his opinion, or something. Regulus likes tattoos. He particularly likes the idea of them on James.
���Something wrong?” James asks.
“No, it’s just…sudden.”
Really, Regulus shouldn’t be surprised, though. James has always done things a little bit impulsively. A tattoo is just one of many of James’ impulsive decisions. Really, he shouldn’t be surprised at all.
James shrugs. “Sirius wanted to practice. I have skin.”
“You have…skin,” Regulus sighs, leaning against the counter. He’s trying very hard not to look at where the tattoo sits, the edge of it just peeking from the edge of James’ shirt.
“I have skin,” James repeats.
It takes another moment to process what James said, before. “Sirius?”
The smile starts to spread across James’ face.
“You let him needle you?”
James sputters, at that. “Needle me. What are you—five?”
“He’s barely an apprentice,” Regulus continues. “He shouldn’t be tattooing anyone, and I swear to God if he ruined your—”
“Reg,” James interrupts.
Regulus shoots him a glare. Try me, he thinks. Regulus won’t ever let Sirius hear the end of it, if he ruined James’ perfect body with one of his stupid—
“Won’t you at least look at it?”
Determinately, Regulus turns his eyes away. Suddenly, the grain of the floorboards seems far more interesting than—now-shirtless—James.
“No.”
(If Regulus is anything, he’s stubborn. James knows that, at least.)
“Oh, come on. Reg. Just a look?”
Regulus doesn’t budge. Well, he doesn’t intend to.
(Shirtless James is very enticing.)
“I dunno, I just—”
It’s then that Regulus breaks, getting a full look at the little symbol, resting just above James’ hip. Really gets a look.
“You like it?” James asks, doe-eyed.
For a moment, Regulus feels stunned. Then, slowly, he nods.
“Good,” James sighs. “It’s for you.”
Regulus nods again. He can’t quite bring himself to tear his eyes away. Right on James’ hip is a little crown. Regulus—the little king.
Later, Regulus traces it with his teeth.
#rose came up with this idea#and beta read this#still going strong w my april microfics <3#jegulus#regulus black#james potter#microfic#rose tag#james x regulus#regulus x james#sunseeker#starchaser#jegulus microfic#marauders#marauders fanfic
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@jegulus-microfic / march 1: rugby / word count: 365
Too many videos, adverts and search suggestions about rugby have been appearing on all of Regulus' platforms to be coincidence. It only took a brief mention of the sport in a conversation with Barty and Evan while they were at work for it to flood every digital space Regulus owns. The funny thing is that of all the players out there, the one who is most reluctant to leave his phone is the one called Potter, who is apparently an eminence in the sport.
Regulus knows only the basics about rugby, preferring soccer to be honest, but over the last few days he has found himself in the spare time he has between flights, looking up more information and watching the games this James guy plays in.
All of this makes him feel a little foolish for succumbing to the insistent advertising, but a couple of days later it proves extremely useful when he sees a silhouette Regulus has become quite familiar with boarding the plane, and it leaves him gaping in surprise. When James Potter greets the cabin crew, which almost no one does genuinely, Regulus chokes with his own saliva, earning amused looks from his two friends and leaving him blushing as he helps the Gryffindor flanker find his seat in first class.
Despite the initial surprise, the flight goes off without a hitch, save for Barty making crude gestures at him from the back of the aisle every time it is Regulus' turn to attend to a particular passenger. A passenger who appears to be nervous, as Regulus has seen him catch rugby balls at several miles per hour, but seems to have lost all motor skills when he drops the blanket he is trying to hand him twice.
At the end of the flight, despite being at the front of the plane, James decides to be the last to get up to disembark, but not before giving Regulus his number.
Some time later, all of Regulus' platforms are flooded with James Potter again, but for slightly different reasons. And well, probably now somewhere in the world someone else is complaining because he's the one accompanying the player in almost every picture.
#based on a conversation i had with renn <3#we agreed that our phones are spying on us#jegulus#regulus black#james potter#starchaser#sunseeker#james x regulus#jegulus microfic#marauders#the marauders#renn tag <3#len writes
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@jegulus-microfic April 21st, prompt: run, words: 1160, nsfw
aka regulus comes until he cries? that’s basically it yeah (+t4t jeg)
He shouldn’t cry.
It’s what Regulus has heard since—well, as early as he can remember. Crying is a vulnerability he can’t afford, a sign of weakness, and the Black family are anything but weak. Don’t be a baby, they’d say—to the literal fucking baby.
The last time Regulus cried was when he was 7 years old, he thinks—his mother certainly made sure he never did it again. And even long after he left that house behind, left his family and everything they stand for, found a new family, found a new home and new self unrestrained by hatred and abuse, transitioned, finally became comfortable with himself, his identity—after all of it, this is what he’s held onto. The belief that he shouldnt cry.
At least, it was what he held onto.
Now, as Regulus finds himself bent over the kitchen counter, nails dragging down the cool granite that he’s pressed flush against, he’s beginning to think crying isn’t so bad after all.
The tears started falling after his second consecutive orgasm, streaming freely down his face as he convulsed around James’ strap. James only slowed his thrusts to something deep and drawn out as he leaned forward and cooed, “That’s it baby, let it out,” hot breath cascading down Regulus’s ear and neck, hand stroking his hair gently. Languid kisses pressed down his neck and shoulder as he twitched and softly gasped in overstimulation.
He barely got a chance to catch his breath before—
“How ‘bout one more for me, yeah?” And just like that, James was drawing out and ramming back into him with a brutal pace. Regulus let out a choked gasp as his vision whited out, back arching, legs shaking. All he could respond was a tear-streaked string of oh fuck oh fuck oh fu—ah—please as James continued chanting soft praise and encouragement, railing him into a new fucking plane of existence.
That leaves him here, hurtling head first towards a third orgasm and choking on intermittent sobs and moans in rhythm with James’ thrusts. Each one is hitting that spot that sends a line of white-hot electricity up his navel, fraying his nerves until his entire body feels like an exposed wire. His hands grab for purchase on the countertop, unsuccessfully, as he tries to drag himself up, away, anywhere to put distance between himself and the onslaught of pleasure-pain that’s spreading like a fire across his whole body.
But James only digs his hand into Regulus’ curls and pulls, the other wrapped around the front of him so Regulus’ cock grinds into it with each movement of their hips. “Where are you trying to run off to, love?” he teases as his grip tightens and holds Regulus in place.
“Oh fuck— I can’t—“ Regulus’ own moan cuts him off, loud and lacking shame. “S’too much,” he whines.
“But you love it, don’t you?” Soft lips trace up behind his ear. “You don’t want me to stop, love, do you?” Regulus’ eyes roll back into his head. The hand presses down further on his cock and another sob escapes him. “C’mon, tell me how much you love it when I take you apart like this,” James coaxes, pulling him up further by his hair so that he has to balance on his forearms, his head falling back.
And, here, in this state of over-saturated, pure white static bliss where Regulus can barely distinguish reality, the world around him, anything other than James’ hands and James’ lips and James’ sweet-honey voice and James and James and James, the only thought he can form amidst the haze is the one James has supplied for him so graciously, so giving as always: that he loves it.
You love it, don’t you?
And Regulus does.
He loves having his walls taken down, brick by brick until he’s bare, surrendered to pleasure and to release. God, he fucking loves this release. The kind he never allowed himself before, the way it washes over his whole body and builds up like a dam, the way it flows in and out of him, completely open, running rivers down his face and sending shocks out from his core, chest heaving, bones melting, transcending his own body and yet more grounded in it than he’s ever been. He’s nothing but skin and shaking muscle and neuron and nerve ending and pure, unfiltered feeling, and, yes, he loves it. So, he does what he’s told and voices it, let’s it flow out of him like the rest of the dam, frantic and breathless.
“I love it, I—ah—oh—I love it, I love it I love it I—fuck—“
“That’s good, that’s right, fuck, you’re doing so well, baby. You look so pretty when you cry like this” James praises, breathless now, tone soaked in awe and pure adoration as he watches Regulus repeat the phrase like a mantra, an oath, a prayer, the words melting together to the point of near incoherence: I love it I love it Iloveitloveitloveitloveloveitloveit.
“That’s it, I know, baby,” he tugs on Regulus’ curls again, pulling him up against his chest. The new angle makes his cock drive deeper into Regulus, drawing a strangled moan out between his quick, gasping breaths. “Why don’t you show me how much?”
His fingers move in quick circles on Regulus’ cock, other arm wrapping around his shoulders to hold him up. “C’mon, let go for me one more time, Star.”
The simple order is all it takes. When Regulus comes, it’s with stars behind his eyes and tears flowing freely and a scream tearing through him, head hanging back on James’ shoulder, back bowed, clenching down on silicone as shudders rack through his body in waves. James works him through it with a slew of there you go and so good for me and so perfect and show me how good it feels, baby, that’s it.
He collapses back onto James, boneless, and breathes. Shakily. James squeezes him tight. All that concentrated flame has simmered and spread out into something soft and warm and buzzing all throughout his body. A small whimper escapes at the feeling of James pulling out, his core still throbbing around nothing.
James scoops him up easily, laying him down gently on the couch in the next room, and kneels down to cradle his face with his hands.
“Okay?” he asks softly, kissing Regulus’ forehead.
Regulus keeps his eyes closed and smiles in delirious dream-state bliss, just barely aware that he’s still sniffling. “Love it,” he mumbles, and James snorts as his thumbs swipe back and forth under his eyes. His head is still cloudy, his body floating somewhere with it. “Love you,” he adds dazedly.
“Always so sweet after you come,” James remarks. “Think if I get you to five next time you’d propose to me after?”
If Regulus had the energy, he’d roll his eyes. Instead, he reaches out and runs his hand through James’ hair, down the back of his neck, along the scars on his chest, down his arm where he grabs his hand and pulls it into his own chest, body curling around it like he’s hoarding it. James doesn’t seem to mind. “We’re already married, James,” Regulus mumbles. “I literally proposed.”
James chuckles softly, fondly. “I love you, too, Star.”
#microfic brought to u by lana del rey#nails in the kitchen et al#anyways I don’t actually know how I feel abt this but here we are#jegulus#james potter#regulus black#james potter x regulus black#starchaser#sunseeker#marauders#the marauders#jegulus microfic#writing stuff and things#microfic tag#jegulus fic
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Newlyweds
Jegulus microfic | 830 words | A little Mr & Mrs Smith au thingy for u | pt. 2, pt. 3
“So… what’s your favorite color?” James asks. They’re meant to be getting to know each other but the agency told them not to reveal any identifying information. This is the best he could come up with.
Regulus raises an eyebrow, unamused. James knew it was a stupid question. He’s about to take it back when Regulus looks down at his plate and says, “green, like a dark green. Almost black.”
James hums, studying the way the man in front of him cuts his food into even pieces. He thinks he could learn a lot more about Regulus by just watching him rather than asking superficial questions. Regulus likes order. Noted.
After a minute of silence, broken only by the scraping of silverware, James speaks again.
“Now it’s your turn to ask a question. See, we’re doing a back and forth thing here. Swapping secrets. If we’re going to be fake married we have to know things about each other.”
Regulus doesn’t miss a beat. “I already know everything I need to know about you, James.”
James scoffs. This is going to be the longest mission of his life. He’s known Regulus for all of an hour and he’s barely gotten five full sentences out of him.
“Ok, tell me three things you know about me. If you get something wrong, I get to ask you anything I want.”
Regulus sets his knife and fork down neatly next to his plate. He wipes his mouth, clears his throat, and looks up at James, pinning him with an icy gray stare. For a second, James loses his breath to the chill. Regulus’ eyes slide over him, stopping at his lips for a brief moment, but James catches it all the same.
“You’re an only child, you’re rich already so you’re not in this for the money, and you’ve been married before, maybe recently. I’d probably even say that’s why you’re here.” Regulus takes a sip from his wine glass, not looking away from James as he does it.
“How did you… Did the supervisor tell you about me? Because that’s not fair I didn’t get anything on y—”
Regulus cuts him off with a hand. “You’ve been talking incessantly since the second I got here. Attention seeking behavior. Only child. That was probably the biggest stretch but I figured I’d give it a shot. You’re wearing an Armani sweater, so that one wasn’t even hard, and you have a tan line around your left ring finger. Is the divorce even finalized yet?”
James just stares, mouth parted in an attempt to form literally any word from the wide array of languages he knows. Nothing comes, though.
“Aren’t you supposed to be a spy, James? This is day one stuff.” Regulus goes back to his meal. A curl of his hair falls briefly in front of his eyes and he brushes it back with elegant fingers.
James doesn’t think he’s ever been speechless in this life. All he can think to say is, “the divorce is finalized.”
“Did you love them?”
Well, that was unexpected. He answers anyway. “Yes”
“Do you still love them?”
“No, not anymore,” James mutters, looking down. It’s true but that doesn’t mean it’s not still tender.
“Good.”
James shoots a look at Regulus then, incredulous. “Good?” he asks. “Why is that good?”
“No attachments, James. It’s bad business.” He says it so casually, so plainly, but James can see a twitch between his brows. This hits home for him too.
“You forget, honey, we’re married now. It’s me and you ‘till the end. We’re ‘attached’ for life.” He smirks, wanting to move the conversation away from lost loves. Hoping the humor will smooth the tension in Regulus’ face.
“We’re fake married, James. Partners. That’s it.” He’s looking up at James through jet black lashes and James finds himself thinking about running his fingers lightly across them. Counting every one until he runs out of numbers.
“It doesn’t have to be.” Okay, maybe he’s flirting now. So what? If they’re going to be stuck together he might as well make it interesting.
“Yes it does.” Regulus says, but James doesn’t miss how a slight flush creeps onto his cheeks. “We’re doing this by the book. It’s easier that way, trust me.”
“Oh I'm not worried about me, Regulus. I can keep my hands to myself. Don’t think I haven’t missed the way you’ve been looking at my mouth, though. I can be observant, too.”
Regulus looks away, obviously flustered, and James preens internally for getting a reaction out of him.
“I’m going to bed,” Regulus says, getting up.
Before he’s out of the room, James responds. “Alright, love. Let me know if you want some company. You know where to find me.”
Regulus stops. It’s too long of a pause, almost like he’s considering the offer, but he doesn’t look back. “Goodnight, James,” he whispers before heading up the stairs, and James swears he hears a smile in it.
#had to do it!#jegulus#jegulus microfic#regulus x james#james x regulus#james potter#regulus black#starchaser#sunseeker#marauders fanfic#marauders au#marauders#lane writes#microfic tag#mr & mrs smith au
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little microfic for crop top james fest <3 happy birthday to my favorite orange cat. @croptopjames wc: 447. not explicit but dirty thoughts + talk.
It’s downright sinful how James prances about in the bustling living room of his shared flat with Sirius, body-packed and lively with the inebriated movements of twenty people or so raising the nth toast to celebrate his birthday. The mixed drinks are more liquor than anything else, concocted true to Mary’s diabolical taste since passing out drunk and enduring a three-day-long hangover has become a tradition following Lily’s 'sweet twenty-teen' ordeal. Yet, it isn't just the three shots worth of vodka and a hint of cranberry juice that fills Regulus’ mouth with a sour-bitter tang, no. It’s James, wholly James — sun-sculpted with the bodily proportions carved by God himself.
With every movement, the muscles of his revealed abdomen undulate, his skin left revealed beneath the hem of his crop top that stops just below the swell of his chest. As Regulus’ eyes zero in on the piece of shining metal on James’ navel, he finds himself needing another sip to prevent his thoughts from drifting further away, to the dangerous, lust-filled dreamscapes of dipping his tongue deep in James Potter’s fucking belly button. He knows what that feels like, to have the cold metal press against his tongue, nose buried in the dark dusting of hair that trails down the center. Has done it more than a dozen times.
And James knows. Of course, he fucking does. He arches his back just so when leaning across the pool table and smiles innocently when his nipples pebble underneath Regulus’ heated gaze. So, it’s no surprise to either of them when he ends up dragged away from the party to his bedroom, roughly shoved into the unmade bed that serves as an invitation for Regulus all the same. The sheets still carry both of their scents from the morning, the center still slightly damp where they had been tangled a couple of hours ago.
James stretches out underneath him, long and languid, bronze skin pulled taut around the ladder of his ribs, urging Regulus to climb them into heavenly ascension. And he will. He fucking will. Especially when he bats up his lashes at him, head lazily lolling to the side.
“I’m going to fuck you, James,” Regulus grits out. “I’m going to fuck you senseless.”
James grins, an edge of manic to his eyes as he grabs Regulus by the front of his shirt and drags him into a bruising kiss. “Yeah?” he breathes out into Regulus’ parted mouth, hand reaching out to palm where he’s hard and trapped in his pants. “Put this cock inside of me?”
“And so much more,” Regulus promises against his lips before slipping his hand behind the elastic band of James’ joggers.
#croptopjamesfest#ino microfic tag!#jegulus#james x regulus#jegulus microfic#i coulda written the smut. i could have#but im gonna continue with deadlines#they fuck but james' crop top stays on btw
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"Regulus' collection" a microfic for my love, @bellaxisworld
Regulus had been collecting them for a while—his Sylvanian Families collection, that is. It all began with gifts from Sirius. The first one was a little raccoon, and Sirius had carefully wrapped it for him before leaving for school ten years ago. Each time his brother visited for the holidays, he would add another one to Regulus' collection.
He had never felt embarrassed of them, not until now, at twenty-one years old, with a shelf displaying them in an apartment where his brother’s hottest friend would be coming over. They were about to host their first dinner since leaving their parents' home, and Regulus had gladly obliged, anything to make his brother happy. But now, as those little shits looked back at him from the dustless shelf, he couldn't help but feel embarrassed.
Regulus had been crushing on James for as long as he could remember. They had seen each other not more than three times, which meant he had experienced the warmth of the sun in close proximity that same amount of times. And Regulus hated the cold.
When Sirius insisted on them living together, he was also adamant about their home feeling like a place where they both existed. It was actually his idea to have his collection on display. Now, Regulus wonders if his brother's plan had been to humiliate him all along.
He tried discreetly covering them with anything, even willing to shove them all inside a drawer. But as he grabbed the first one, his brother stopped him.
"What are you doing, Reg?" Sirius laughed a little as Regulus blushed.
"Nothing, but I just don't want your friend to think I'm lame," Regulus replied quietly, his gaze stuck on his shoes.
"Remus has seen your collection millions of times, Reg. It's just James who—" his brother stopped talking, and Regulus dared to look back at him, guilt all over his face.
"Reggie, do you care what James thinks?" Sirius' tone was much more gentle than Regulus had expected.
"So what if I do?" and at the response, Sirius' eyes softened.
"No, fuck no. Don't look at me like that. I don't like James or his stupid smile."
"Reg-"
"I know, I know! Of course, I care what James thinks, now help me hide them, but be careful!" Regulus started delicately placing them in a drawer, but Sirius' grip stopped him once more.
"Do you want to know a secret?"
"Sirius, we don't have time-"
"James has a collection of his own."
Regulus smiled but quickly called his brother's bluff, "you're just trying to make me feel better."
"I would never lie about a Sylvanian Families collection! I swear on Moony!" Sirius drew a cross around his heart.
Before Regulus could protest any longer, they heard a knock on the door.
It was James. Handsome and perfect James, who brought flowers and exquisite wine for dinner.
It was James. Adorable and kind James, who complimented Regulus' collection all night and insisted it was much better curated than James'.
It was James. Lovely and breathtaking James who would one day have a shelf next to Regulus' for his own collection.
#bella has the most adorable pfp#as well as kit and india and ellie#so this was inspired by that#i love you so much baby#bella tag <3#jegulus#marauders#james potter#regulus black#gay dead wizards#james x regulus#starchaser#sunseeker#jegulus fanfiction#jegulus microfic#euge's microfics#microfic#sylvanian families#calico critters#marauders microfic#microfics#regulus x james
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✧ written for 'charm' ✧ word count: 548 ✧ rated: T ✧ cw: creepy in the luring kind of way ✧ tags: other!eddie ✧ @steddiemicrofic (≧∇≦)ﾉ✧
The ringing wasn’t that annoying, mostly because it meant his favourite guest had arrived.
“Meow.”
And there he is, with the little charm on his collar. Steve has no idea how it makes a jingling sound but it’s so cute, he doesn’t really care.
“Hello precious,” Steve greets and opens his windows out to let the black cat in. Robin always complains and calls it a hazard, but she also baby-talks to him so Steve doesn’t take it to heart.
But the cat doesn’t come in. He stares at Steve with wide eyes, eyes as red as the jewel of his charm. Huh. He didn’t know cat eyes could be red.
The cat meows again and hops out of the window. Steve takes his coat, locks his front door and steps out. The cat meows again, hopping along the street and Steve follows.
“Meow.”
Steve blinks. The cold air has finally hit his skin and has him shivering except – he’s been cold for a while, hasn’t he? He’s been – he’s been walking for a while, his legs ache so much. Steve looks around, the shadows of the empty road crawling around him, and realizes he must have left town ten minutes ago.
How –
The cat.
The one that always came to their window and asked to be let in, the one he followed all this way.
Where is it?
“Aren’t you a little far from home?”
Steve swivels around, hand grasping out for – for what?
A man smiles at him from the middle of the road. It’s too dark to see his face but he can see his eyes.
Pretty, pretty red.
“What are you doing here, stranger?” the man asks as he holds his hand out, crooking a finger in a ‘come-hither’ kind of way.
Steve stumbles over. “I – I was following this cat, where –“
The man’s (pretty, so pretty) red eyes widen, and he barks out a laugh. Steve smiles with him. “A cat, huh? In this cold? Oh, you poor thing.”
The moment he said that, the chill of the wind bit at Steve’s ears, and he shudders.
“Oh no,” the man tuts. He steps closer to Steve, pulling him in by his waist and adjust his own thick, fur coat around the both of them. “Is that better, sweetheart?”
Steve smiles, and he knows it’s his dopiest one because it’s the one that would always make people laugh and call him an idiot.
The man’s smile drops and his (beautiful, bloody) eyes flare angrily. He holds Steve even closer, even tighter, and Steve feels so warm. “They’re not worth it, sweetheart. We’re here now.”
Nuzzling into his neck, Steve sighs happily.
“That’s it, darlin’,” the man murmurs and he sighs too. “You don’t even remember me, but I’ve been so lonely without you.”
“Without me?” Steve frowns and goes to look at the man, Eddie, in the eye but a cold, clawed hand presses his face back into the warm skin. “Why were you without me?”
“It doesn’t matter anymore, does it?” Eddie chuckles and Steve hums. “You’ve got me now and I’ve got you. Just like we said.”
Steve peeks over Eddie’s shoulder, where the lights of the town fade into the shadows. Just like they said.
#if you read the tags on my first entry for this month AHA I TRICKED YOU THERE WAS A MONSTER ALL ALONG I JUST PUT HIM IN THIS ENTRY#sailor✧writes#steddie#writing#microfic#steddiemicrofic#oh the horror of a pretty stranger#it's a good thing that i did the first entry because i just realized this one is really similar to the one i did back in july#but i'm trying not to let that irritate me#because sometimes we like reading the same things over and over!!#also if i should add any other content warnings someone please let me know!!
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@croptopjames / 1,015 words / happy bday jfp <3 - nsfw but fades to black
Regulus thought he might die, honestly.
This couldn’t be allowed. It was surely against the rules. Regulus wasn’t exactly sure what rules he was referring to (Laws against public indecency, maybe?), but somebody had to stop James Potter.
He knew exactly what he was doing, too. Chest puffed out, arms crossed, and leaning against the wall, all while idly rolling his wrist, the red cup in his hand moving in circles. Regulus couldn’t see into the cup, but assuming it wasn’t yet empty of beer, he thought the liquid sloshing around inside was likely reminiscent of the feeling inside his stomach. His smile too, of course, betrayed his self-satisfaction. The glint in his eyes said that he knew just how much he was affecting the other party-goers.
Regulus huffed over the man’s ridiculously large ego and tried not to think about how, at that moment, he was the perfect example to prove it justified.
And he definitely wasn’t thinking about the strip of brown skin between the top of his jeans and the hem of his shirt, which was much too small for him. The skin that was covered by it was only barely less inappropriate as he may as well have not been wearing a shirt at all with how tightly it clung to the contours of his defined torso.
He looks ridiculous, Regulus thought, like he’s wearing a kid’s t-shirt. He ignored the contrasting reaction his body seemed to be insisting on, but still couldn’t bring himself to tear his eyes away.
“Jesus Christ, mate, try not to drool,” Barty said from beside him. Regulus scowled but didn’t so much as glance over at him, despite having no clue when he got there. “I’ve seriously never seen you look this desperate. I’m a bit worried you’ll combust.”
“Shut up.” He replied through gritted teeth. Barty just sighed and pet him roughly on the back.
“Alright, whatever, I’m gonna go see if Dorcas has found anything stronger to drink yet. Have fun with your ogling.”
Regulus didn’t bother answering, instead taking a sip of the drink he’d been nursing for a while by then. He wasn’t exactly sure what was in it, but Pandora made it, so he wasn’t worried. Any other of his friends and he wouldn’t have dared touch it.
James had been talking to people most of the night and had only been on his own like that for a few minutes. Regulus watched him as he watched everyone else, had been watching him all night, really, but appreciated that he was standing still now. He swore that the man couldn’t stay in one spot for more than thirty seconds.
He didn't know why he felt caught out, then, when James' eyes finally wandered over to him, smirk widening to find Regulus’ eyes already trained intently on him. He wasn’t exactly being subtle, and James had been watching all around the room, of course he’d look his way eventually. If his brain hadn’t been occupied with… other details and he’d thought about it, he would’ve expected it.
He wouldn’t have expected James to then push off the wall and start walking towards him, though.
“Hey Reg,” He said once he was close enough to be heard over the music blasting around them. God, he looked so full of himself. Disgustingly pleased. It made Regulus’ blood burn.
“Potter,” Regulus raised an eyebrow.
“Don’t take that tone with me after I caught you staring.” James wasn’t that much taller than Regulus, but the handful of inches between them meant he looked down at him when they spoke. It definitely did not make Regulus’ stomach flood with butterflies.
“I was simply astounded by your ridiculous attire. I don’t quite know what you were going for there, but it’s a bit of a train wreck.”
“Y’know it’s useless lying to me, baby. It’s written all over your face what you’re really thinking.” God, his voice was good. Deeper than usual, and thick and sweet as syrup. Did he just call him baby?
“And what exactly, would you say, I’m thinking?” Regulus narrowed his eyes, staring directly into James’ own.
James' free hand lifted to rest lightly on Regulus’ hip, just grazing the side of his waist. He tried to hide the way he sucked in a breath, but James’ grin told him he was unsuccessful.
“Similar to what I am, surely.”
Regulus swallowed hard. He wouldn’t give in this easily. “What would Sirius think about you touching his little brother like this, hm?”
James just exhaled a laugh. “Sirius isn’t here right now.” His grip tightened slightly as he leaned forward to murmur only inches away from his face and Regulus couldn’t resist how his eyes snapped down to watch how muscles both covered and uncovered by his shirt shifted. “Don’t change the subject.”
Alright, maybe Regulus would give in that easily.
He swayed forward, suddenly, hands moving up to cup his face and pulling him into a kiss. James’ lips reacted quickly, moving against his own, and his arm shifted around his waist to place his palm on his back. James’ tongue slid against Regulus’ lips and he opened them without hesitation, groaning into his mouth as they hurried to escalate. The sound seemed to spur James on some more, and he started walking them both away, speaking words at a time between devouring Regulus’ mouth with his own. “C’mon, baby, the- fuck- bathroom, this way.”
Normally, Regulus would've challenged his assumption he’d follow him into the bathroom, but this time he only nodded quickly and let James lead him away. Barty was right, he was acting like some common fucking whore. At this rate, if they hadn’t moved into the bathroom, James pushing him against the wall as soon as they were in, they really would’ve been at risk of trouble for public indecency.
As James' mouth left his, moving to trail hot kisses down his body as Regulus writhed above him, all he managed to get out between quiet gasps and moans was “Whatever you do, just, keep- ah-, the shirt, on.”
#IM NOT LATE#I AM JUST ON THE EDGE#this is so dumb n i had less than 2h to write it but i couldnt not#microfish tag#croptopjamesfest#regulus black#james potter#jegulus#marauders#fanfiction#jegulus microfic
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