#mil's microfics
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@jegulus-microfic // february 7 // prompt: star // words: 1,416 // cw: referenced sexual content // part 1 + part 3
“So let me get this straight,” Barty says, pacing in front of the couch where Regulus is sitting with his back straight and his hands tucked between his knees. “You sucked off your ex in the bathroom, picked a fight with him because he wanted to return the favor, ended up hooking up with him and staying the night, and now you’re telling me he texted you?”
Barty ticked off every point he made, a full five fingers now held up in front of Regulus' face. Five offenses. Regulus fights to maintain eye contact but his resolve crumbles under Barty's unyielding stare. Barty Crouch Junior, a force of nature. If only he'd use his powers for good.
“That would be correct,” Regulus says after a moment of silence.
“And his name in your phone is do not fucking respond.”
“That would also be correct.”
“And what did you do?”
“I responded.” Regulus at least has the decency to hang his head in shame. He remembers how long it took his friends to piece him back together in the aftermath of Hurricane James.
Barty sighs, bone-deep and long-suffering. He pinches the bridge of his nose before dropping his hand and turning to face Regulus again. “Follow-up question: were you dropped on your head as an infant?”
Regulus perks up at that, because “Well—”
“Don’t answer that,” Barty says, voice clipped. “God, Regulus. Gold star for being a fucking idiot.”
“In my defense,” Regulus starts. He doesn't continue though. Lets the silence stretch until there is no give anymore. Barty cocks an impatient eyebrow. “He looked really good,” Regulus finishes lamely. A red flush crawls up his neck and Regulus is sure it makes the mottled bites and bruises on his skin stand out even more.
Barty stops pacing to shoot Regulus an incredulous look. “That’s such a bad excuse? He always looks good? If you’re gonna be dropping to your knees as soon as he's within a two-mile radius, just— don’t.”
“But—”
And really, Regulus isn’t sure why he’s about to argue. He absolutely should be kept away from James at all times and he’d been so good at it for a while, but then. Well. Before he gets a chance to argue though, Barty cuts him off again.
“Don't make me call Pandora. She will bring the list.”
That does shut Regulus up. A huge file with an annotated bibliography and an itemized list of why Regulus should stay away from James. They had used it against him before and it worked every time. This time though, he didn’t want his weaknesses pointed out to him just yet.
“Fine. I won't talk to James anymore.”
---
“And then you have the fucking audacity to text me?” Regulus asks, incredulity bleeding into his voice. James seems unbothered by it though, hip cocked against the kitchen counter and arms crossed over his chest.
“Would you rather I call you?” He asks.
Regulus whirls on him. “No! I'd rather you not reach out to me at all!”
“See, once again, I am finding that hard to believe.” James pushes himself off the counter and steps closer to Regulus. “Did celibacy make a liar out of you? Or did I fuck you so good you forgot all the things you said last night?” He keeps his voice low as he says it, but Regulus hears it loud and clear. He shifts under James’ sharp gaze. Eyes lazily tracking the way Regulus moves.
“I'm not fucking lying. Last night was a mistake,” Regulus lies. Because that’s what he does now. Apparently.
“Technically two,” James says. He bites his bottom lip thoughtfully, eyes stuck on one of the many bruises littering Regulus’ neck.
Regulus doesn’t need the reminder, he can feel the bites and bruises sting with every turn of his head. Hands pressed palm to palm and the two of them chest to chest. A leg between Regulus’ own and his voice so wrecked he didn’t realize it was his at first. James, softened by the low light in the room, all his sharp edges blurring into pleasure. The hum of a moan into the heated skin of his neck.
“Technically three,” Regulus murmurs, eyes getting hazy, but he catches himself a second later, straightening. “But that's not what we're talking about!”
“Isn’t it?” James cocks his head. A lazy smirk pulls at James’ lips. The sight makes something simmer hot in Regulus’ gut. “We seem awful good at making mistakes. Maybe they're not mistakes at all.”
“All of this was a mistake! From the beginning! We shouldn't have hooked up and we shouldn't have dated and none of this should've fucking happened. Not last night, not last year, none of it.” Regulus takes a heaving breath. Considers saying more, but then James cuts in with:
“Are you done?”
“What?”
“I asked if you were done.”
“I— Yeah. I guess.”
James takes a step closer again, boxing Regulus in against the table. He presses his palms down on the flat surface, one on each side of Regulus’ hips. He has to look up a bit to be able to look James in the eye when they’re this close. He always liked it.
“You know what, that would've hurt my feelings if I believed you. Although I guess I do think this was a mistake. In a way.”
The feeling of James’ breath hitting the side of his neck makes Regulus shiver. James dips down for the barest, briefest moment and drags his lips along the column of Regulus’ neck, tracing the path he laid out the night before. It takes Regulus a second to realize what James just said, too caught up in his closeness to register the words. He isn't prepared for the way that statement makes him feel, a sharp pang in his chest and a dull ache all the way down his fingertips. He curls them into fists, keeps them resolutely in his lap. But before he has a chance to react, James continues.
“See, I think we never should've broken up. Mistake number one.” James takes the smallest of steps backward just to be able to raise his pointer finger. Regulus misses the heat instantly. “And I think you shouldn't have left this morning. Mistake number two.” He raises a second finger. “And you know what they say about mistakes.”
He glances at Regulus thoughtfully, waiting for him to fill in the blanks.
“Don't fucking make them?” Regulus asks.
“All good mistakes come in threes,” James corrects, a third finger now being held up.
“No one says that.”
“Maybe they should.”
“No, James,” Regulus shakes his head and leans back, putting some distance between himself and James. Or trying to, at least. “This is a bad idea and we both know it.”
James just leans into him more. Regulus goes a little cross-eyed trying to maintain eye contact. His focus is drawn to James’ lips instead. He remembers them pink and bitten. Stretched wide, spit clicking the corners.
“Come on, baby,” James hedges. “No more mistakes. Just me and you. And I'll be so good for you, good to you, I swear.”
His voice is molten honey, hot and sweet, and it sticks to Regulus’ skin like a physical thing.
And Regulus only has so much resolve. He unclenches his fists, allowing himself to reach out and touch. But the smooth fabric of James’ sweater is a poor substitute for the thing he really craves. It buzzes in his veins, a steady hum that's getting increasingly harder to ignore. There is no alcohol in his system to blur the lines he'd once drawn, he steps over them with his eyes wide open.
“You're addicting, you know that?” Regulus murmurs, mouth a few scant inches from James’. “Just can't fucking quit you. You and your Jamesness.”
Before James can reply, Regulus curls a hand over James’ throat and tugs him into a kiss. The buzzing in his veins quiets immediately, satisfaction rushing through them instead. It’s heady, kissing James again, even though it’s only been a couple of hours since their last kiss. James really is addicting. And Regulus is a weak, weak man.
---
is that a phone in your pocket or are you happy to see me [group • 4 members]
reg: hey guys....
evan: you're an embarrassment
barty: @panda send the fuckinf list
pandora: reasons why regulus should keep his dick in his pants and out of his ex [file type: PDF • 53 pages]
#messy exes jegulus: even messier#idk why they broke up but pls lmk if you have ideas#barty said regulus protection squad#james just said whore.#anyways!! for kara bc i probably would've let it be if she hadn't been so excited about the snippy <33#i hope you enjoy <33#i know it's a few days behind the 6th but!! i liked star#regulus black#james potter#starchaser#sunseeker#james x regulus#jegulus#jegulus microfic#mil's microfics#mil's writing#my writing
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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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✺ (2/16) ✺ @jegulus-microfic prompt: tear — 1,058 words (college/uni au; when your boyfriend tries to distract you from working on your schoolwork and you’re so strong about it)
At this point, Regulus is about ten seconds from bashing his head into the table. He’s been in the library study room for hours already, only so much time still left on the max amount that he’s allowed to use it for. Just a little while longer to get some of the piled up work he needs to get done, and then he can take a break.
And yet.
Groaning, he sinks enough in his chair to thump his forehead onto the tabletop. Whose grand fucking idea was it to get a masters degree? Why did he think that was a good plan? This thesis is going to be the death of him.
You could still drop out. There’s still time to do that. You’re smart, you’re pretty, you’ve finished enough school, you’ll figure it out. You can just—
The study room door opens, cutting his spiral short. Regulus lifts his head, automatically ready to snap at whoever’s come to interrupt him before his time in the room is up. Except when he sees that it’s James, his annoyed expression quickly melts away.
There’s a to-go coffee cup and a white paper bag in James’ hand, the other reaching out to push the door shut quietly behind him. He comes around the far end of the large table —too large for one person, really, but Regulus has a couple books, his laptop, and various notes scattered over it, taking up space. James still finds an empty spot beside his laptop to set the bag and cup down then bends to kiss the top of Regulus’ head.
Regulus tilts back to look up at him. “I thought you were at the gym.”
“Baby, I went to the gym at like eight-thirty. It’s eleven now,” James chuckles, sliding his hand back and forth between his shoulders. He nods his head toward what he’s brought when Regulus quirks a brow at him wordlessly. “Figured you didn’t have anything before coming here.”
“I had a coffee already,” Regulus replies.
“And did you eat?”
He drops his chin, eyeing the white paper bag with a barely hidden sheepish look.
“Uh huh, that’s what I thought.” James squeezes his shoulder then moves around where Regulus sits to plop into one of the chairs closest to him. “It’s one of those almond croissants you can never say no to, so.”
Regulus’ lips tick upward into a gentle smile, gaze flicking sideways. “Oh, you’re really going for it, are you?”
“Going for what?” James asks, feigning innocence.
With a knowing roll of his eyes, Regulus reaches for the bag, pulls out the croissant, and settles it on the outside. He tears a piece off and pauses before bringing it to his mouth, swiveling his chair to knock his knee into James’.
“I told you, I have to stay here for at least three hours. I have too much work to get done.” Regulus pops the bite of food in his mouth, chews and swallows before tilting his head. “You don’t get to try to butter me up and pull me away from it.”
James narrows his eyes at him a little, thumbs tapping over his shirt where he keeps his hands folded on his stomach. “Maybe I’m just being nice.”
“Mm, and why should I believe you?”
“Because I’m always nice.”
“Well, I don’t know about that.”
“Come on now, love, you know I’m only mean to you when you ask me to be.” James winks, his grin inching wider when Regulus blushes at the insinuation.
He swallows another bite of food with a shake of his head, washing it down with a sip of coffee —black with one sugar, just like James knows he prefers it. He sets the cup back down and proceeds to point at the door James came through.
“Get out.”
Like the flip of a switch, James goes from playful to downright pouty, huffing petulantly and slumping in his chair.
“Regulus, it’s the weekend,” He complains.
“It’s Friday. Still a week day,” Regulus points out.
“Close enough,” James grumbles. He sits up straight abruptly again, leaning forward to press his elbow into the table, chin propped in his palm. “I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”
“Your dick isn’t going to write my thesis, I’m afraid.”
James snorts, looking terribly smug as his hazel eyes drop to Regulus’ mouth then dart back up again. “Could write your thesis on it, though, couldn’t you? In more ways than one.”
“Out,” Regulus emphasizes, blushing bright red up to his ears. “I can’t deal with you for at least another hour. Leave me alone.”
“About to shed a tear here, baby,” James jokes, bringing a hand to his chest in further dramatics.
“Then cry about it. Somewhere else, ideally,” Regulus says.
Laughing, James seems to concede to his dismissal because he pushes up from his chair. He leans one hand on the table and tucks the other beneath Regulus’ chin to tilt his head back.
Despite kicking his boyfriend out, Regulus sighs contently, eyes falling shut when James dips down and presses a lingering kiss to his lips. No matter his insistence to avoid distraction, kissing James is one lovely indulgence Regulus will not deprive himself of. James’ thumb brushes over his chin before he touches their foreheads together.
“An hour?” James checks.
“At least,” Regulus confirms.
“Okay, fine.” James kisses him one, two, three more quick times before separating. “You’ve got this, love. Don’t stress yourself out too much.”
Regulus hums, nodding his head, watching James head for the door. “Thank you for the breakfast.”
“Of course.” James pauses with his hand on the handle, glancing him over one more time, warm smile and fond gaze unfading. “Love you.”
He tries, he really does, to contain the smile that tugs at his lips, making his own affection unbearably obvious when he ultimately fails. He typically does now. Regulus Black, made soft after all. He can’t even be mad about it anymore, not when being with James feels as good as it does.
Breathing in deep through his nose, Regulus mentally steels himself against the swoop in his stomach and a resolve that could crumble fast if James stays for too much longer.
“Love you,” He says in return. And because he has to, obviously, he tacks on an additional, playful, “Now leave.”
#jegulus#starchaser#sunseeker#jegulus microfic#dedicated to mil who said ‘i love your uni microfics’ and i said ‘okay i’ll write you another one’#bing bam boom here we are#they’re so sweet and silly and in love#and i love them dearly#kay’s microfics#kay’s writing
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Written for @wolfstarmicrofic prompt: Trinkets. A little angst but mostly fluff.
Sirius stepped out of the Floo into 12 Grimmauld Place, feeling Harry squirming in his arms. Before he could set the boy down to run off to Merlin-knew-where, he glanced to the side to check on Remus, who was calmly brushing Floo powder off his robes.
“Tell me again that we thoroughly child-proofed this place,” said Sirius, grimacing.
“There isn’t anything here that could harm Harry,” replied Remus calmly.
“Daddy, I’m a big boy now,” reminded Harry, frowning up at Sirius after the man set him on the floor.
Sirius tried not to laugh at the sight of the five year old boy crossing his arms and trying to look mature.
“Of course you are Prongslet,” he bent down and whispered into Harry’s ear. “That’s why we trust you to stay near either me or your Da.”
The trio left the foyer and entered the impressive Black library. Remus set up Harry with a coloring book in a cushy corner while Sirius surveyed the rows of mahogany shelves. He ran a hand through his dark curls and sighed. He hated being here, with memories of merciless tutors and Walburga’s suspicious scrutiny haunting the place like malicious ghosts. But this was for Harry, he reminded himself. It had been increasingly clear to both him and Remus that Voldemort was not dead. So regardless of what Dumbledore said, they had decided to take matters into their own hands and figure out why Voldemort’s body was never found. And unfortunately the Black Family library was the best place to do so.
“I’ll start with the Potions section,” said Remus, placing a comforting hand on Sirius’s shoulder.
As Sirius soon lost himself flipping through his ancestors’ collection of curse encyclopedias, he tried not think of a certain bedroom upstairs. He had long since learned that nothing good could come of pondering the fate of his baby brother, who sold his soul to a madman at the tender age of 18.
Speak of the devil, he cursed sadly to himself. He had opened a page to find none other than Regulus’s elegant cursive, detailing his theories on the application of combinatorial magicks to curse breaking.
Suddenly, he heard Remus’s frantic voice.
“Harry? Harry?” his partner called out from across the library.
Sirius’s heart skipped a beat. Ears ringing in alarm, he raced toward the corner where he last saw his child, only to see Remus opening and closing cupboard doors worriedly.
“He was here a few minutes ago.” Remus gave Sirius a wild eyed look.
“Moony, he has to be in the house somewhere. You take the second floor and I’ll take the third,” Sirius said, his war experiences kicking in.
Remus nodded and disappeared quickly. Sirius made his way to the third floor, trying not to imagine worst case scenarios.
Don’t catastrophize, Remus’s voice in his head reminded him, lowering Sirius’s heart rate slightly. He had always thought Moony would’ve been a great mind Healer, if the idiots at St Mungo’s would have accepted him.
Just then, Sirius saw the wide open doors of Walburga’s suite.
“Fuck,” he swore out loud. There hadn’t been any dark or dangerous items detected in there, he reminded himself. There was no chance Harry could’ve been cursed, or poisoned, or-
He slammed open the dressing room door to see a little boy bent over a large trunk of jewels and trinkets. Relief flooded him as he watched Harry root around in the Black matriarch’s old jewels. He silently sent a Patronus message to Remus, as he took deep breaths.
“I thought I told you to stay near us, Haz,” Sirius scolded gently.
Harry clambered out of the box to give Sirius an innocent look. “I forgot my red crayon,” he cried. “Terry the dragon needs red scales! You and Da were busy so I’m finding a new crayon.”
Sirius surveyed the gold bracelets and rings that adorned the child. “Those don’t look like crayons babe.”
“Terry the dragon also likes gold,” informed Harry matter of factly.
Before Sirius could wonder why a dragon would be named Terry, he caught sight of a particular trinket around Harry’s small wrist.
Tears sprung unwillingly to his eyes and he remembered his brother giggling uncontrollably at a young Sirius’s mocking portrayal of Walburga, dressed in her gaudy trinkets telling off yet another tutor.
His emotions must have shown on his face as Harry dropped the jewelry in his hands to race over to his parent.
“I’m sorry Daddy!” he cried, as he wrapped his arms around Sirius’s legs. He sobbed into Sirius’s robes as the wizard picked the little boy up and buried him in a hug.
“There you are, oh,” came Remus’s stern turned surprised voice. “Is everything all right?”
Sirius swallowed as he ran a hand down Harry’s back soothingly. “Yeah, just you know, memories,” he admitted sadly.
Remus’s already soft expression turned softer. “You know what, I think I gathered enough source materials and notes to begin our research.”
Sirius blinked. “You think?”
“Yeah, why don’t we all get out of here? There’s a zoo nearby, if someone’s interested,” said Remus, giving Harry a teasing look. Sirius felt a surge of gratitude and love for Moony, who could read him so well.
“Yeah! Will there be dragons? Terry wants to meet his friends,” asked Harry.
“Err…maybe not at this zoo, cub. But there will be lions,” Remus replied, taking Harry from Sirius.
As he listened to the two compare the “awesomeness” of lions versus dragons, Sirius gathered some of the jewelry and necklaces to place them carefully back in the trunk.
Smiling slightly at the thought of another little boy with black curls and grey eyes, he sent up a silent plea to the Universe that wherever his brother was, he was happy and at peace. With that thought, he closed the trunk and left the room to rejoin his little family.
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trick or treat 😌🤲🏼
goodest of evenings to you dear mil, have my failed attempt at writing the Jegulus skirt microfic back in September? AUgust?? myeah... this is all i have, emjoy<3
Regulus is sweating.
He’s trying not to show it, physically wise. Sure Dorcas wouldn’t appreciate it from where his head was currently propped up on her thigh.
It’s just that he’s in a rather comfortable position there, one long leg dangling over the armrest, one bent at the knee, socketed foot propped up and if that coincidentally means having a prime view under the hem of James skirt where he’s strewn himself haphazardly on the couch opposite, well, that’s really just a happy accident.
Why is James wearing a skirt you might wonder?
Well, that’s rather simple.
There was one too many unnecessary incident, a problem their uni board had with one of the girls, Mary this time, Regulus thinks, regarding dress code and the length of her skirt.
In protest a good portion of the boys had protested together today in the form of wearing mini skirts and otherwise suggestive clothing around campus. Undoubtedly Sirius’ idea, if Regulus had to guess.
And, of course, James had participated. Golden boy
He feels the heat blooming up the back of his neck and it’s stupid, Regulus is 21 not a teenager anymore, for fucks sake.
Still breathless, when he asks, “What was that for?”
Regulus rightens his shirt and turns around to leave, “Shouldn’t walk around dressed like a slut if you didn’t want to be fucked like one.”
“Oi, that’s not very pro-feminism of you, Regulus!”
“Add it to the list!”
trick or treat fic writer ask game
#lune writes#jegulus#basically the idea was for r to fuck j over the back of a common room sofa in a skirt :p
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hi kit! 30 for the fic writer ask please! <3
mil hi <3
What’s something that you want to write in 2024?
well. my brain is really zoned in on the train to busan au so i really want to write that. maybe something longer and more flushed out for the neighbors jegulus from my zombie microfic, and finally get around to continuing in your pickup truck. i think overall i just want to write more, through microfics or oneshots or long fics. anything lol
fic writer asks
#i think i’m talking a little big for everything i’ve done this year#but i WANT to write more so so badly#ask game#mil tag <3
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UPDATE e microfic
Oii, como vão todos? Estou passando para avisar que não morri, mas parte da "Não há lugar como o lar" morreu.
Eu admito! Fiz merda. Acabei me deixando levar e a história foi para um caminho que eu não tinha previsto. Então, resolvi começar uma revisão mais cedo, até porque eu queria colocar algumas cenas extras e estou arrumando algumas partes do texto. Basicamente ignorem tudo depois do Nico contar sobre o Hades e que quer ser emancipado. Já tenho umas 10 mil palavras revisadas, devo respostar os capítulos na primeira semana de janeiro no meu blog. Já tenho um capítulo pronto por lá, nele nenhum acontecimento mudou, apenas algumas palavras modificadas.
Bem, esse é o planejamento para os próximos meses, revisar o que eu tenho e voltar aos trilhos. E para não ficarmos sem história, trago um minitexto de 100 palavras. Fiz para um desafio que eu acabei não colocando no ar, no tempo que eu tinha tempo para escrever textos curtos; eles eram ótimos para desenvolver a criatividade. De fato, sinto falta da época que eu tinha tempo para participar de qualquer desafio. De qualquer forma, aqui está, curto, mas que poderia muito bem ter se tornado uma boa história.
O começo do fim
Prompt: Apocalipse
Premissa: Eles estavam procurando por sobreviventes, mas eu escolhi ficar quieto. Eu gostava daqui.
Eles estavam procurando por sobreviventes, mas Nico escolheu ficar quieto. Ele gostava dali, era tranquilo, não havia problemas e nem monstros a serem destruídos. Ele nunca pensou que fosse gostar tanto de um mundo onde noventa e cinco por cento da população tinha perecido por culpa de uma nova vacina contra o câncer e, ao invés de prevenir tumores, a vacina acabou por mudar o DNA das pessoas, as transformando em um tipo de zumbi que não representava qualquer tipo de perigo; eles andavam por aí durante dias e dias e quando a energia deles acabavam ou eles se definhavam devido à desnutrição, as pessoas infectadas apenas caiam no chão e não se levantavam novamente.
Mas é claro que Nico tinha que ouvir a voz “dele”.
Nico se abaixou atrás de um arbusto, fechando sua bolsa cheia de frutas e ouviu novamente a voz chamando.
— Tem alguém aí?
Nico se virou, se preparando para rastejar para longe dali quando uma voz falou novamente, bem as suas costas:
— Eu sabia que era você. Eu pensei que era minha imaginação, porque faz tempo que eu não sinto a energia de um semideus, então quando eu--
— Cala a boca! Eles vão te escutar!
Nico pegou Percy pelo braço e o puxou para longe, subindo por um caminho íngreme e entrando em uma caverna escondida pelas árvores. Era a única opção se ele quisesse continuar escondido.
#avisos#update#my writing#textos curtos#percy/nico#nico di angelo#percico#pernico#percy jackson#não há lugar como o lar
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drarry microfic inspired playlists
Hello! So I've been working on drarry playlists with Hindi songs inspired by @drarrymicrofic prompts. There's two of them: the first featuring newer songs and the second one, 'drarry microfic — puraane geet (meaning old songs/tunes), is a compilation of older Hindi songs. I've made a list of the prompts and their corresponding song under the cut! I will update the playlists soon with more, but here's what I have so far! 😊 Thank you to the lovely @curlyy-hair-dont-care for your feedback, help and encouragement 💕
Links to playlists:
drarry microfic:
Laugh – Saathiya
Light – Roobaroo
Evergreen – Dil To Bacha Hai Ji
First time – Pehli Baar
Guest – Offo
Aftermath – Sau Tarah Ke
Sunset – Sooraj Dooba Hai
Luminous – Sooraj Ki Baahon Mein
Metamorphosis – Kuch To Hua Hai
Obscure – Hawayein
Invitation – Uff
Road trip – Aao Milon Chalein
Tum se hi – Nostalgia
Return – Tere Bina
Together – Agar Tum Saath Ho
Miracle – Kaise Mujhe Tum Mil Gayi
Mirror – Subhanallah
Delicate – Aye Udi Udi Udi
drarry microfic — puraane geet
Return – Jo Wada Kiya Woh Nibhana Padega
Guest – Yeh Kaun Aaya
Technique – Isharon Isharon Mein Dil Lene Wale
Denial – Tumhein Ho Na Ho Mujhko Toh
Love letters – Phoolon Ke Rang Se
Satisfied – Abhi Na Jao Chhod Kar
Begin – Pehla Nasha
Invitation – Aaiye Meherbaan
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@jegulus-microfic // february 6 // prompt: murder // words: 1,172 // cw: implied/referenced sexual content // part 2 + part 3
“You’re so fucking infuriating!” James calls out as Regulus makes his way out of the bathroom. He runs a frustrated hand through is hair and tries to slam the door behind him, but James catches it before he can.
“Oh, I’m infuriating?” Regulus asks over his shoulder. “Have you looked in the mirror lately?”
“Baby, we both know you do enough looking for the both of us.” Regulus doesn’t need to look at James now to know he has a cocky smirk tugging at his lips, voice smug and pleased.
“Don’t call me baby. And don’t think I like what I see when I look at you.” Regulus rounds another corner, moving further away from the party as he heads toward the stairs. He hates that he still know the house like the back of his hand, even though it’s been months since he’s been here.
He knew he shouldn’t have come but Sirius had asked and Regulus bends easy if his brother is the one pushing.
“Ah, you wound me.” James comes to a stop right in front of him, a hand pressed to his chest in mock hurt. “Besides, I find that a little hard to believe when I only had to smile for you to drop to your knees in the bathroom.”
“A moment of weakness, clearly,” Regulus says as he pushes past James and makes his way up the staircase. He’s not sure where he’s trying to go except away from James. James and his pretty smile and messy hair and hazy eyes that track his movements with a hunger.
And it had been a moment of weakness. A party and one drink too many and James’ eyes lingering on the strip of skin between the hem of Regulus’ shirt and his belt. At the ink peeking out above his jeans, a pattern James was all too familiar with. A brush of fingers against his lower back that had Regulus shivering even in the sultry heat of the room. All it took was a tilt of his head and a smile and Regulus was following James down the hall.
James snorts, short and derivative. “Clearly.”
It does nothing to make him less attractive.
“Like I said, infuriating!” Regulus yells as he stomps up the stairs. He’s not even aware that he is walking toward James’ bedroom. “You and your— your—”
“Me and my?”
Regulus comes to a stop in front of James’ bedroom door. He turns to face him and ignores the thrill in his stomach when he realizes how close they’re standing. He has to tilt his face up just the tiniest bit to make eye contact. Tries to force himself to do it, but his eyes drop down to James’ lips unintentionally.
“You and your Jamesness!”
“Good one,” James huffs. He takes another half-step closer, crowding Regulus against the door. “You really got me there.”
“Oh, I am going to murder you,” Regulus hisses between his teeth. He tries to take another step back, but the door handle digs into his lower back. Cornered. James' hand comes up to rest beside his head and Regulus has nowhere to go when James leans down to murmur into his ear.
“Please make it romantic, at least.” James' breath rustles his curls and Regulus fights not to shiver. There is a hint of beer on his breath and usually, Regulus hates it. But he has learned that he can’t quite manage to hate anything that comes from James Potter.
Instead of doing something embarrassing like leaning up and crushing their mouths together, he grits his teeth and jabs a finger into James’ chest. Desperate to put some distance between them but even more desperate to keep him close.
“I am going to throttle you—” he grounds out, jabbing James’ chest again for emphasis.
“I always did love your hands around my throat.”
“—and I am going to draw and quarter you—” Jab.
“Yeah? You gonna tie me up real nice?”
“—and I am going to set your remains on fucking fire.” Jab.
“No need, you get me hot all on your own.”
James’ free hand comes up to cover Regulus’ before he has the chance to withdraw. He presses it flat against his chest before lifting his hand to Regulus’ face.
“I swear, James Potter, if you put that hand on me, I'm going to get violent."
But the threat is empty. They always are. Because James’ knuckles caress Regulus’ cheek and it takes all his strength to not lean into the touch. James knows it too.
"Oh love,” he murmurs, voice low and a little rough. Something Regulus recognizes but refuses to name. “You usually like it when I put my hands on you.”
And at this point, all bets are off because James is looking at him like he knows.
Like he knows that Regulus spends long nights staring at his ceiling because sleep doesn’t come easy if he’s not in James’ arms. Like he knows that Regulus still buys the coffee James prefers because the smell lingers in the apartment and makes it feel a little less like a haunted house. Like he knows that Regulus hasn’t been on a single date in the months since their break up. Like he knows that Regulus never finished that show they started watching together. Like he knows that regret coats the back of Regulus' throat like bile every time he talks about it.
Like he knows that Regulus is still in love.
Like maybe he feels the same way.
Regulus shifts the hand that’s still resting on James’ chest to the back of his neck and yanks him down, pressing their lips together in a kiss. It’s wet and messy and desperate from the beginning, a moan spilling between when James realizes he can still taste himself on Regulus’ tongue.
James moves impossibly closer, both hands moving to cup Regulus’ face. Regulus wishes they were closer still, wishes he could stay like this forever, because he thinks it’s where he belongs; with James. Always with James.
Lips slick and eyes lidded when they pull apart to breathe, Regulus faintly registers that party is still going on downstairs. Music playing in the distance, a cheer erupting at an unknown achievement, but neither of them feel inclined to return. Regulus tilts his head back for better access when James starts trailing wet a path down the column of his throat, humming at the taste.
“This is probably a bad idea,” Regulus manages between ragged breaths. The last thing he wants to do is stop, but plausible deniability and all that.
“I think you’re a little too faded to drive,” James says, punched out and breathless, the words pressed into the line of Regulus’ jaw as he works his way back up to his mouth. Regulus’ hands clench in James’ hair, earning him a hiss. “Maybe you should stay the night.”
Regulus doesn’t get the chance to agree, too busy stumbling through the now-open door all the way into James’ bed.
#messy exes jegulus! everybody cheer!#don't ask me why regulus decided to argue with james AFTER giving him head#they really said messy exes so it's none of my business actually#partially brought to you by the fact that i looped babylon by 5sos for an hour#regulus black#james potter#regulus x james#james x regulus#starchaser#jegulus#jegulus microfic#mil's microfics#mil's writing#my writing
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@jegulus-microfic // january 22 // prompt: cry // words: 1184 // cw: explicit sexual content
James Potter is loud. Unbearably so. He’s also talkative, which makes for a particularly frustrating combination. He’s always blabbering on about one thing or the other. His professors or the reading materials or the RA of his dorm, whose name is Frank Longbottom, by the way. This is something Regulus knows because James is —say it with me— loud.
James is either louder than usual today, or Regulus’ fuse is shorter than usual, but it is bordering on unbearable. Regulus is trying his best to focus on the economics of inequality, really, he is. But James Potter’s aggravating voice is cutting through his concentration at an alarming rate.
With a sharp exhale he slams the palms of his hands against the table and shoves his chair backward, causing Evan and Barty to look up. At the sight of Regulus fuming, they simply raise an eyebrow at each other and turn back to their assignments.
Regulus rolls his shoulders and steels himself for what is undoubtedly going to be a frustrating interaction.
He weaves his way through the library, surprised that no one else seems as bothered as he is about the noise, because it is fairly packed. Exam week is coming up and Hogwarts University is known for its rigorous program and harsh grading. This may or may not be the cause for Regulus’ short fuse today — he really needs to pass the econ exam if he wants to take an elective next semester.
Before he knows it, he is standing in front of James Potter’s table. Regulus clears his throat once to get James’ attention, but he seems so captivated by his own story that he doesn’t notice Regulus, standing there with a frown on his face.
It isn’t until James’ friend, Peter? Preston? Patrick? No, Peter sounds right, nudges him under the table that James looks up.
Regulus is met with a blinding smile. “Hi, Reg! What can I do for you?”
“Shut up.”
“Excuse me?” James asks, affronted. “You came and talked to me.”
“No, I mean what you can do for me is shutting up. You’re being loud and I can’t focus.”
The confused expression on James’ face morphs into a smug one almost instantaneously. “So what I’m hearing is that you find me distracting?” He asks with a wag of his eyebrows. Peter snorts out a laugh, but Regulus ignores him.
He rolls his eyes. God, this man is infuriating. “That’s absolutely not what I said. I simply can’t hear myself think over the sound of your voice.”
“Shame,” James tells him. “Although, I must admit I’m rather interested to hear what you’re thinking. Maybe you could tell me on Friday? Over dinner?”
“I’m sorry, what?”
“Dinner. Friday,” James repeats. Then he gestures between the two of them. “You and me.”
Regulus feels like a fish out of water, gaping stupidly at James Potter in the middle of the library.
Regulus is about to say something cutting and devastating like In your wildest dreams or Is this a prank or Absolutely the fuck not, but what comes out of his mouth is a hesitant, “Sure.”
James’ beaming smile is back. “Alright. I best get back to studying, then. Apparently I have plans on Friday, so I gotta clear my schedule.”
Regulus makes his way back to his table in a daze. Barty and Evan are waiting, gazes expectant.
“Well?” Evan prompts when Regulus doesn’t say anything. “How’d you get him to shut up?”
“By agreeing to go on a date with him,” Regulus says, still somewhat confused. He isn’t entirely convinced it wasn’t a prank and he also isn’t entirely convinced he’s awake right now. The interaction was so absurd, he's sure he dreamed it.
“What the fuck?” Barty asks. Yeah, that’s what Regulus is also thinking.
————————————————————————
“C’mon, James,” Regulus murmurs, “let me hear you.” He reaches up to tug James’ bottom lip out from between his teeth. With a particularly harsh thrust, he pushes James up the mattress a couple of inches, slamming the headboard against the wall.
James moans —loudly— and Regulus relishes in the sound. He chases it, covering James’ mouth with his own and licking into it as if he could taste the sound, somehow. He pulls back and attaches his lips to James’ neck, sucking a bruise into the flushed skin.
James moans again, and again, and again. The sound bursts out of him in breathy gasps every time Regulus pushes in.
“Love it when you get loud for me,” Regulus tells him.
“Used to—” James starts, but he is interrupted by yet another moan, “used to hate it.”
“That was before I knew better,” Regulus acquiesces, slightly breathless. “Now it’s my favorite thing in the world.”
The sound of the headboard hitting the wall fills the room, interspersed with the sound of James moaning. It doesn’t take long for James’ moans to rise in pitch, signaling that he’s close.
“Reg, Reg, I’m—” James tries to warn, but he cuts himself off with a cry of pleasure.
“I know, James,” Regulus replies. He furrows his brow in concentration, his fist tight around James' cock as he pushes him toward his release. “It’s okay, come for me.”
James spills all over Regulus’ hand and his own stomach with a particularly loud moan and Regulus follows close behind, tumbling into pleasure headfirst until he comes back down to earth.
He pulls out of James gently, discards the condom, and moves to grab a cloth. He wipes down James’ stomach and reaches between his legs to get rid of the excess lube. Regulus is just about to get comfortable again when there is a sharp knock on the door. With a sigh, he tosses James a pair of underwear and tugs on his own.
“What,” Regulus says sharply when he yanks the door open. James pads up to him and places a hand on his shoulder.
“Hi, Frank,” James says somewhat sheepishly.
“Hi, James. Regulus,” Frank says. His eyes get stuck on the blooming hickey Regulus left on James’ neck a few minutes ago. Regulus coughs pointedly, snapping Frank out of his daze. “Got another noise complaint. Would it kill you guys to be quiet?”
Frank definitely looks like he doesn’t want to be here. Regulus agrees. He would much rather be back in bed with James.
“Sorry, we’ll try to keep it down,” James says. The hand that is not resting on Regulus’ shoulder goes to his hair, running through it self-consciously. Even if they hadn’t gotten a noise complaint it would have been obvious what they were doing. The hickeys, the hair, the distinct lack of clothes.
“Anything else?” Regulus asks when no one speaks.
“Uh, no, that’s all. Thank—” but Regulus has already closed the door before Frank can even finish his sentence.
“Regulus,” James says, exasperated, “this is the third time we’ve gotten a noise complaint. They’re gonna kick me out, I swear.”
“Don’t worry,” Regulus tells him. “You can get up to five complaints before they consider eviction.”
With a loud laugh, James tackles him to the bed.
#yeah i have no excuse guys#idk how i got to over 1k#reg going from “james is so loud 😒” to “james is so loud 😏”#bottom james enjoyers come get your food#anyways uhh enjoy#james potter#regulus black#jegulus#jegulus microfic#mil's microfics#my writing
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@jegulus-microfic // march 26 // prompt: transfiguration // words: 1100 // cw: some blood and a minor wound (but it's v cute + fluffy)
“How did this happen again?” Sirius asks as he dabs at the cut along the palm of Regulus’ hand. The cloth stings, despite Sirius’ best attempts to be gentle.
“Just got a strong grip,” Regulus mumbles. His eyes flit around the room, catching on the gaudy red drapery and the mess of clothes scattered on every spare surface.
“Uhu, sure.” Sirius doesn’t look away from what he’s doing, carefully cleaning the wound. “But really?”
It’s not the first time something like this has happened. It has actually been a pretty common occurrence this past year. Summer had done James good and Regulus had a hard time not noticing it.
A few weeks ago, during Transfiguration, Regulus had accidentally made the windows explode when James walked in to drop off a note for professor McGonagall.
He’d sent Regulus a small smile on his way out and it immediately made Regulus' heart trip and the windows burst. James had been so brave about it too, sheltering Regulus’ body with his own to keep any shards from falling on him. He still remembers the warmth of his cloak and the scent of his shampoo.
Not too long after that, James had passed him in the courtyard when he was messing around with Barty and Evan. A cheery call of “Hey, Regulus!” and his spell had slipped out of his control, hitting a few people with a relatively harmless stinging hex.
Today, Regulus had been sitting next to Sirius in the Grand Hall, not aware he was actually in James’ spot. When James slid onto the bench next to him, thighs pressing against each other and the heat of his body seeping though the fabric of is clothes, Regulus had accidentally made the cups of pumpkin juice shatter.
Unfortunately, he had been holding his own, which is why he is currently perched on the edge of Sirius’ bed as Sirius tries to heal the small cut on the palm of his hand.
“I keep…” Regulus puffs up his cheeks, considering his words. “I keep messing things up. When J— this guy walks into the room.”
“You have a crush?” Sirius asks, finally looking up from the task at hand to meet Regulus’ eye.
“Don’t say it out loud,” he hisses. Regulus has to resist the urge to clap his hand over Sirius’ mouth, never mind the fact that they’re alone in his dorm right now.
“Why?”
“It’s embarrassing!”
“It’s not embarrassing! I think it’s sweet! My little brother, all grown up.”
Sirius sounds fond. Proud. Warmth sparks behind Regulus’ ribs.
“M not little,” he huffs, but it lacks any real heat. He knows he’ll always be Sirius’ little brother.
Good thing it’s his favorite thing about himself.
The blood has been cleared away enough for Sirius to see the cut. It’s not deep, thankfully, so a simple mending spell should do the trick.
The feeling of the spell is pleasant on his skin, like dipping his hand into warm water, relief rushing over him.
As luck would have it, James chooses that exact moment to walk into the room. Regulus counts to ten in his head, an attempt to quell the magic that is coursing through his veins and desperate to burst from his fingertips.
James looks handsome like this, hair a bit messy from where he has been running his hand through it, glasses low on his nose. Regulus itches to push it back into place. His tie is a bit too loose to be acceptable, but he seems to get away with it every time. The golden details of his uniform compliment the hazel of his eyes and Regulus is at risk of swimming in them if he doesn’t look away.
“Reg, hey, are you okay?” He sounds breathless, like he ran up the stairs to get here. Regulus tries not to get his hopes up.
He coughs, just to make sure his voice is still there. “Yeah, just a cut. Sirius is fixing it.”
Neither Sirius nor Regulus mentions that they are used to patching each other up. More familiar with each other’s healing magic than they’d like to admit. They had spent long nights with books they’d borrowed from the Black family library, learning simple healing spells.
“Why not go see Pomfrey?”
Regulus ignores the indignant hey from Sirius and says, “She had her hands full already. But it’s fine. Sirius can—”
“Here, let me,” James says, nudging Sirius out of the way.
Sirius is about to protest when he catches sight of Regulus’ face, a slow blush crawling up his neck and blooming on his cheeks. Understanding sparks in Sirius’ eyes and a shit-eating grin forms on his face.
“Yeah, Prongs can take care of this. I have to head out anyway.”
Regulus tries to communicate to Sirius that he should absolutely not leave or Regulus might end up accidentally setting his bed on fire. Or on purpose. He’s not sure yet. But Sirius elects to ignore his warnings and shuts the door behind him with a wink.
James’ hands are warm. His palms are calloused from all those hours practicing Quidditch, but no less gentle in their prodding.
“Strong grip, huh?” James murmurs as he pokes at the tender skin on Regulus’ hand. There isn’t much to mend anymore, Sirius was basically done, but neither of them mentions it.
“Yeah, apparently.”
Regulus is thankful his voice doesn’t crack, but the heat in his face is persistent, straying up to the tips of his ears.
“Mh, maybe you should try out for the Slythering Quidditch team. I’d like to have some real competition on the pitch.”
“Maybe.”
“Then again, maybe you’ll be distracted enough to let me sneak by, or to set your team’s brooms on fire.”
Red blooms in Regulus’ face, almost brighter than the red on the walls. His embarrassment is short-lived though, because James is laughing fondly, hands still cradling Regulus’ own.
“You did it on purpose!” He accuses.
“Not on purpose, per se. I just wanted to test a theory,” he muses. A thumb strokes over the back of Regulus’ hand and goosebumps erupt on his skin. James hums, content. “I’m sorry, though. I didn’t want you to get hurt.”
Regulus huffs in annoyance, but it’s a show and they both know it.
“I really am sorry,” James says again, ducking his head so he can meet Regulus’ eye. One of his hands comes up to push a dark curl away from Regulus’ forehead. Then, it settles on the side of his face. In the quiet space between them, he murmurs “Let me kiss it better.”
#regulus has an obvious crush and accidental magic#a recipe for disaster#regulus black#james potter#jegulus#jegulus microfic#mil's microfics#mil's writing
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@croptopjames // frat boy james in a very tiny t-shirt proves to be quite distracting when regulus is trying to study // words: 687
Regulus is just about to consider the pros and cons of repeatedly slamming his head into the desk when the door opens.
He’s holed away in James’ room, escaping the madness of his own dorm, where Evan is frantically trying to memorize human anatomy, and the library, where Regulus’ soul vacates his body one hour at a time.
James is a willing host, although he seems to have some trouble letting Regulus study. He had to send his boyfriend on a run to get some quiet, because James can be very very distracting when he wants to be.
Thankfully, Regulus has managed to make his way through a good few chapters by the time James returns and it’s for the better because—
“Hi, sweetheart,” James pants, sweat dripping down his neck, catching on the gold chain that disappears under the collar of his shirt. “Got some studying done?”
Regulus swallows dryly. His eyes catch on the strip of skin between the hem of James’ t-shirt and shorts.
His t-shirt. His very tiny t-shirt. His t-shirt that rides up when James lifts a hand to card through his sweaty curls and reveals more tan skin. Dark hair trails down his stomach and disappears beneath the waistband of his boxers, a path Regulus is eager to track.
There is cotton in Regulus’ head, static between his ears, not a single thought behind his eyes, only a continuous loop of JamesJamesJamesJa—
“Take a picture, baby. It’ll last longer.”
Heat floods Regulus’ face. “Shut up.”
“No, I’m flattered, really.” James lifts a hand and presses it against his still-heaving chest.
“Your own boyfriend ogling you is not a flex.”
“No, but half the campus ogling me is.”
“Only half?” Regulus mocks, bottom lip jutting out in a pout. He ignores the spark of annoyance he feels; James is just trying to rile him up, he knows this. But James is very good at finding Regulus’ last nerve and picking at it until it snaps.
Admittedly, the stress of exam week leaves him slightly more irritable than he usually would be, so when he asks, “Where is the rest of your shirt, by the way?” there is a bit more bite in his tone than he intended.
James simply shrugs. “Laundry day.”
Regulus’ eye twitches.
He turns in his chair again, eyes trained on the chapter he is currently revising. It is riveting stuff, something about Alexander the Great and his conquest of Macedonia. Except, the words swim on the page, none of them registering, but Regulus refuses to give James the satisfaction of— of— well, he just refuses to give James the satisfaction.
“Sweetheart…” James murmurs, voice low and sweet, tempting Regulus into looking up again. He’s leaning against the door frame, posture relaxed but his brow furrowed. Neither of them says anything when their gazes meet.
“You really shouldn’t be allowed out of the house like this, you know. It’s obscene.” Regulus’ voice sounds rough. It is not annoyance that makes the words gravelly.
“Are you mad at me?” James crosses his arms in front of his chest, the muscles in his arms bulging a little with the movement. He tilts his head in consideration.
Regulus scoffs and a slow smile spreads across James’ face.
“Regulus, sweetheart, are you mad at me?”
“Yes!” Regulus slams his textbook shut. “Because you’re distracting me! Again!”
The corner of James' mouth twitches. He says nothing for a moment, simply regards Regulus. Then:
“Wanna get it out of your system?”
The question has barely left his lips before Regulus is shoving the chair back, not too worried about the way it topples over onto the floor. He is much too busy tugging James’ shorts down, allowing a hand to trail up up up under James’ shirt and splay possessively over his abs while he swallows his boyfriend whole.
The next time James and his very tiny t-shirt go for a run, Regulus makes sure no one gets any ideas. A hickey on the tan skin of his stomach tells everyone that they can look all they want but James Potter is a taken man.
#frat boy james you will always be famous#james in a crop top would also distract me to be fair#regulus didn't stand a chance#happy james day to those who celebrate#he's about to get his soul sucked out#everybody cheer#james potter#regulus black#jegulus#mil's microfics#mil's writing#frat boy james au
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@jegulus-microfic // january 1 // prompt: decent // words: 465
There are three knocks on the bathroom door and a call of are you decent? as Regulus dries himself off.
“Yeah, come in!” He calls back, glancing over his shoulder when James opens the door and shuffles inside, a stack of clean clothes in his hands. As soon as his eyes land on Regulus, he squeezes them shut.
“I thought you said you were decent!” He says, voice pitchy and panicked.
Regulus can’t help but laugh, glancing down at his naked form. A smattering of hickeys and bite marks along the insides of his thighs, on his hipbones. He noticed a few on his neck earlier as well and quietly lamented the fact that he’d most likely have to cover them up unless he wanted Barty and Evan up his ass about it.
“James, you saw me naked last night. Why are you being precious about it now?”
“I’m just trying to be respectful,” he murmurs, eyes peeking open but careful not to look at Regulus. He moves gingerly towards the sink, setting the clothes down. Sweatpants and a shirt. James’, probably. Hopefully.
“Oh? Were you also trying to be respectful when you spread me out on yo-”
James darts forward, a hand clamping over his mouth to shut him up. “Shh.” Regulus feels his hot breath fan the side of his face. “Sirius is down the hall.”
Regulus manages to refrain from licking at the palm of James’ hand where it’s pressed against his lips, but he did give in to the urge to roll his eyes. He pries James’ hand away and says, “If he didn’t hear us last night, he sure isn’t going to hear us now.”
It sounds more like a suggestion than Regulus intended, but he is more than willing to go with the flow here. After all, isn’t that what got him into this situation in the first place? A New Year’s kiss that escalated until Regulus was sure he had fireworks shooting through his veins, the ones in the sky paling in comparison to James’ hands on him.
“You don’t know that,” James argues, hand resting on Regulus’ cheek now.
And listen. Regulus Black is many things, but he is a little brother before anything else, so he opens his mouth and takes a deep breath, gearing up for a loud call of Sirius’ name
Before he can do that, though, the hand on his cheek shifts, moving to hold his jaw in a firm grip. “Shut up,” James tells him, eyes no longer shifting about the room but focused on him instead. With their faces so close together, Regulus can see the exact moment James realizes their position. The brown of his iris being swallowed up by lust.
There we go, Regulus thinks. And then: “Make me.”
#regulus' new years resolution: get fucked silly by james potter#sirius did not hear them btw - he was..... busy.#james potter#regulus black#jegulus#jegulus microfic#mil's microfics#mil's writing#my writing
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@jegulus-microfic // january 14 // prompt: massage // words: 808
“Long night?” The bartender asks, towel slung over his shoulder as he pours Regulus another glass of whiskey.
“Long month,” he sighs. He massages his temples for a moment, but it doesn’t do anything to alleviate the headache that’s building up.
“Yeah? Wanna tell me about it?” The bartender busies himself with cleaning the counter. There’s no one else to tend to, after all. He looks up at Regulus over the rim of his glasses.
Regulus snorts out a laugh. Perhaps somewhat unattractively, but he doesn’t care. There’s no one left to impress, after all. “I don’t think you get paid enough for that.”
“I get paid plenty. Come on, I’m all ears.”
Regulus considers for a moment, glass loosely held between his fingertips. He swirls the liquid around. Tilts his head. “Well, at least tell me your name before I unload all my issues.”
The bartender moves so he’s standing right in front of him. He leans down, arms coming to rest on the counter. He has nice arms, Regulus notices. Strong. Corded. Veiny.
“James,” the bartender says. He tips his head as if to say nice to meet you.
“Well, James,” Regulus starts, “I’ve been dating.”
“Ah.”
“And it’s not going well.”
“Ah.”
“See, my first date was with a guy who was definitely in love with his roommate and asked me to drive him home an hour into the date because the roommate called. There was an emergency, apparently. I don’t know what type of emergency requires me to stop for condoms first, but I digress.”
Barty hadn’t even been apologetic about it. Told Regulus point-blank that he needed to pass by the store. Bought ribbed condoms and flavored lube. Directed Regulus to their apartment. For a brief moment, Barty had seemed to consider inviting him up.
“They’re nice though,” he continues with a shrug. “We hang out sometimes.” James chuckles in amusement, soft and low. “Second date was with a guy whose hair was so greasy, I swear you could deep fry something in that mess. And he kept talking about his childhood best friend, which was giving me stalker vibes, to be honest.”
James watches, rapt, as Regulus brings his glass to his mouth and tips it back, the whiskey burning through his system. It leaves him feeling warm and fuzzy around the edges. He’s not sure if it’s the whiskey, though, or James’ attentive gaze.
“And tonight?” James asks. “Date number three?”
“This was four, actually,” he sighs. “Three was a double date with my brother and his boyfriend and their friend, but the friend stood me up.”
“He did not,” James gasps, appropriately scandalized.
“Right?” Regulus sniffs. He stares into the bottom of his glass, amber liquid long gone, just to avoid the pity he knows he’ll find in James’ eyes. “Tonight was a miss, too. I don’t know, maybe I’m the problem. The undateable Regulus Black. The least eligible bachelor in all of England.” Regulus can’t help the derisive snort that escapes him.
“What did you just say?” James straightens. The movement is so sudden that Regulus startles with it.
There is a bitter twist of his mouth as he repeats his words. It feels a bit cruel to be asked for an encore of his self-deprecation, but Regulus has always had a hard time saying no to a pretty face. “The least eligible bachelor in all of England?”
“No, no, before that.”
He rolls his eyes. “The undateable Regulus Black?”
James takes a step back behind the bar, as if to get a better look at Regulus. He’s sure he’s quite the spectacle. Hair mussed, eyes bleary, tie undone because he’s been tugging at the knot all night.
“Shit, you’re Sirius’ brother. I— I had an unexpected shift last week, Peter got sick.” James cards a hand through his hair, tugging on some strands as he goes. “That’s why I couldn’t make it.”
Regulus jolts in his chair, leaning closer to James, eyes narrowed and lip curled up in a sneer. “Wait, you stood me up?”
“I didn’t know!” Two hands held up in surrender. Regulus thinks they’re nice hands. Skilled, too, because he saw James twirl bottles earlier. He wonders what those hands might feel like on his throat. No. He blinks harshly to clear his head. James is still standing there, hands raised. When Regulus leans back into his chair, he lowers them.
He turns to the shelves where the liquor is stocked, grabs the bottle of whiskey. Regulus forces himself not to think indecent thoughts about the man's back.
“Well then,” James says, pouring himself a drink after topping off Regulus’ glass. He shucks the towel off his shoulder, unbothered when it lands in a heap on the counter behind him. Shoots Regulus a wry grin, glass lifted mid-air as if toasting. “Fifth time’s the charm?”
#it's barely the 14th for me but posting it already for kay <33#rosekiller accidentally had an entire subplot#regulus black#james potter#jegulus#jegulus microfic#mil's microfics#mil's writing#my writing
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@jegulus-microfic // january 7 // prompt: headache // words: 451
Regulus taps his foot against the ground, chewing nervously at his lip. “One sec!” Someone calls from inside.
Another moment later, the front door swings open. A man about his age with messy hair and glasses greets him, a kitchen towel slung over his shoulder.
“Hey, I’m Regulus, Harry’s piano teacher,” he says. “Is his dad home?”
“Sorry?” The man asks, not unkindly, eyebrows scrunching a little.
“I’m Regulus?” He tries again. “I teach piano?”
It’s a fairly new gig, Sirius had suggested it after he found himself in need of money after being cut off by his parents. No school would take him on to teach, so he ended up hanging flyers in cafes and miraculously, it had worked. It’s his third student this week, so the nerves are settling a bit, but they come back full force when the man smiles at him.
“Yeah, no, I caught that. Just— You’re looking for Harry’s dad?”
“Yeah, is he home?” Regulus asks, peering over the guy’s shoulder, trying to catch a glimpse inside. When there’s no response, his eyes flit over to the man again who has a playful smirk toying about his lips.
It dawns on Regulus then. “No.”
The man laughs, head thrown back. Regulus swallows. “Oh, this is doing wonders for my ego. I’m James, come on in.”
“You’re kidding,” Regulus mutters as he follows James inside. He is torn between getting a better look at the man and walking straight out the door again.
“I wish I was.” James tosses a wink over his shoulder at Regulus, who feels heat bloom in his cheeks. “I’m not that funny, though.”
“I somehow doubt that. But you’re serious? You’re Harry’s dad? Not his hot older brother or something?” Regulus claps his hand in front of his mouth as soon as the words leave his lips.
He is rewarded with another laugh, though. And strangely, Regulus wants to chase the sound. Cause it. “Keep going, this is really doing it for me.”
"Oh my God, I'm so sorry, this sounds like the start of a bad porno." And really, someone should revoke Regulus’ speaking privileges. Should hand him a script with pre-approved lines because why is every word out of his mouth worse than the last?
His face pulls together in something akin to a wince and an apology is on the tip of his tongue, but then James laughs again and a giddy feeling worms its way into Regulus’ veins. But before James can respond, a tiny voice calls from down the hall: "Dad, what's a porno?"
Oh, this job is going to be a headache, he can already tell. Regulus thinks it might be his favorite yet, though.
#dilf james!#harry cameo!#regulus said “wanna see how much of my foot i can fit in my mouth?”#and i love him for it#regulus black#james potter#jegulus#jegulus microfic#mil's microfics#my writing
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@jegulus-microfic // january 29 // prompt: fancy // words: 411 // cw: implied sexual content
Friday nights are date nights for James and Regulus. Usually, they’ll order food, something from their favorite Vietnamese restaurant or the Italian place down the street. They’ll get cozy on the couch and watch a movie.
Sometimes they go out. Bowling, or dancing, or there was that one time they went to a wine tasting and got wine drunk and and kicked out of the wine tasting for giggling and getting handsy under the table. They never went again.
And sometimes, they’ll cook. Most of the time it’s nothing fancy, but tonight James is looking to impress. And get laid. And the tandoori chicken he has perfected over the years normally does the trick.
Regulus is perched on the kitchen counter, keeping a watchful eye on the stove as James digs around in the pantry for the baklava he’d gotten on his way home from the shop Regulus likes. He’d gone to great lengths to make sure Regulus didn’t find it early.
“Timer’s done,” Regulus calls out from behind him. James huffs out a laugh, endlessly endeared by the fact that Regulus could get up and do it himself if he wanted to. But he’s clearly committed to the idea of being cooked for and refuses to lift a finger.
“Yes, chef,” James calls out, moving to the stove and stirring through the pilau one last time. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows and he doesn’t miss the way Regulus’ eyes catch on his forearms.
“What if we opened a restaurant,” Regulus muses. His eyes track James’ every move, bottom lip caught between his teeth.
“I think we’d be at each other’s throats all day, love.” James starts plating; two pieces of perfectly cooked chicken, the pilau and some vegetables on the side.
“Aren’t we already?” Regulus asks, poking a finger into the tender bruise blooming on James’ neck. James jerks away with a hiss, careful not to disturb the plates too much as he sets the table.
He shoots Regulus a droll stare. “Very funny.”
Dinner passes easily, conversation lulling between bites, ankles hooked under the table. James really doesn’t know what it is about the food, but as soon as the plates are cleared, Regulus pushes him up against the kitchen counter.
“I bought dessert,” James breathes as Regulus mouths along the line of his jaw.
“No need,” he murmurs in response. He drops to his knees, right there in the kitchen. “I’ve got mine right here.”
#for ino! bc you finished your assignment!#it's not much but i hope you like it baby#it's BARELY the 29th for me but it counts#regulus black#james potter#jegulus#jegulus microfic#mil's microfics#my writing
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