whooo boy, got so obsessed with the show and the books that i made an AO3…..insane work! hope y’all enjoy, comments & prompts keep my motivated so i’m always happy to hear from y’all! the usual disclaimers apply: check the tags, fuck AI all my em-dashes are my own, shane hollander hate is NOT tolerated in my space!
pls mind the tags on each & REMEMBER….my ask is always open for prompts or requests!
WHAT DOES HEAVEN KNOW ‘BOUT FOOLS GOLD? - CLASSIC WISDOM TEETH REMOVAL TROPE! (COMPLETE)
RATED: G || NO ARCHIVE WARNINGS APPLY || 4.8k
They’d had it planned out for at least two months. Well, Shane had, at least. His plan made the most sense: His parents were in Ottawa. They could drive, they had room in the house, and they loved Ilya.
Ilya had pushed back. He could drive. He had a big, empty house near the surgery. And he loved David and Yuna, but he could take care of himself.
They had argued back and forth for two full weeks, neither willing to admit defeat. But the dentist had been pretty fucking clear that the anaesthetic would be strong, so Ilya wouldn’t be able to drive himself anywhere, or even look after himself, for at least a day. Two days, in some cases, and he’d have pain and swelling for up to two weeks.
Or: Ilya has his wisdom teeth removed. The sedatives have some unexpected effects, and Yuna feels like a mom again.
THE PROCESS OF CLEARING OUT COBWEBS - ILYA GOES BACK TO RUSSIA! (COMPLETE)
RATED: TEEN & UP || NO ARCHIVE WARNINGS APPLY || 9.6k
Shane makes it very, very clear that he doesn’t approve. In his own stupid, adorable way.
First, Ilya receives three links to articles about arrested Russian activists. Ilya rolls his eyes, but reads them; it’s nothing he hasn’t seen before. Second, he receives an email from their lawyer Mikhaila with Farrah CC’d in, officially advising him not to go. Third, Shane sidles up to him on the couch, kisses his neck, and asks why they can’t just send Mikhaila.
The third attempt almost convinces him, but Ilya kisses his husband back and steadies himself; Ilya knows that, for one last time, he has to go to Russia.
Or: Ilya gets arrested for the second time in his life.
KNOWING I’M ON THE STREET WHERE YOU LIVE - FLORIST/TATTOOIST AU! (IN PROGRESS)
RATED: MATURE || NO ARCHIVE WARNINGS APPLY || 7k
Shane trailed off, gesturing awkwardly back to the studio. The guy was still silent, and still smoking, and honestly looked like he might be about to pounce on him. Whether it was to kiss him or kill him he wasn’t sure, but Shane didn’t think he’d mind it either way.
“Okay,” The guy exhaled more smoke, but Shane was more concerned with the way his accent wrapped around the word okay. It sent an ugly kind of shockwave through him, a feeling that he’d grasped with both hands in high school and shoved so far down he was sure he’d never feel it again. He hoped he’d never feel it again. “Shane, from the tattoo parlour.”
Shane runs the only tattoo parlour in a suffocatingly small town. Ilya is looking for a fresh start selling flowers. What could go wrong?
I THINK WE’RE ALONE NOW - 5+1! (COMPLETE)
RATED: TEEN & UP || NO ARCHIVE WARNINGS APPLY || 10.2k
Shane flushed. They were out, now, and that meant they could engage in some light PDA when they were in public. But they both knew that that came with substantial risks, and that it couldn’t ever be like when they were alone. And in their house, their home, they were completely alone.
Ilya and Shane have spent their entire adult lives waiting to be alone together.
Or: Five times throughout their relationship that Ilya and Shane were alone together, and one time they weren’t.
THE BOLTER - ILYA TALKS ABOUT HIS CHILDHOOD! (COMPLETE)
RATED: MATURE || NO ARCHIVE WARNINGS APPLY || 2.2k
“I fell through the ice, one time,” Ilya murmured, “Skating on a lake. Playing hockey.”
“Oh, shit. Really?”
“Mhm.” Ilya nodded. He had never spoken about this to anyone. Ever. “It was maybe a few months after my mother died. Skating outside was very normal in the winter.”
“Pond hockey,” Shane said, and Ilya could feel him smiling softly against his chest. He imagined a teeny tiny Shane in his teeny tiny hockey gear, skating out onto a big Canadian lake. No wonder he grew up to be such a hockey machine.
“Yes. Exactly. Coach thought the ice was thick enough, but…”
But it wasn’t goes unsaid. He’d never spoken about this to anyone because frankly, he was embarrassed. Not for falling in, but for still being so fucking affected by it. Of course, it was terrifying at the time. What kind of twelve year old is equipped for that?
HIDE & SEEK - SHANE DOTES ON HIS DEPRESSED HUSBAND! (COMPLETE)
RATED: TEEN & UP || NO ARCHIVE WARNINGS APPLY || 2.3K
“Nothing, lyubimyy. I am sick. Go to work.”
“Sick how? Nauseous? Is your chest hurting?” Shane chewed the inside of his cheek. “Are you–”
“Do not worry, Hollander,” Ilya interrupted, a little sharper than usual. He finally peeled the comforter down enough for Shane to see his face. “Go to practice.”
Oh, Shane thought. Oh, no.
YOU PUT YOUR ARMS AROUND ME & I’M HOME - HOLLANOV PARENTING ERA!
RATED: GENERAL || NO ARCHIVE WARNINGS APPLY || 1.1K
“And there’s papa,” Shane muttered, still bouncing Elena gently against his chest, “Standing in the dark and staring at us like a big Russian serial killer.”
Ilya frowned, immediately stepping into the living room, hands on his hips. “You tell her lies about me. I am not serial killer, Lenochka. Your dada is much more likely to be serial killer. As you will see, he puts labels on everything.”
”The labels are useful!” Shane protested, but he still kept his scandalised voice low enough that he wouldn’t disturb Elena. “If we didn’t have those, you’d still be doing laundry with dishwasher tablets, and—”
HFKSKKFKDD it’s been a Month since you sent this and i just saw jfkskf shame on me but
Yes. yes and ily and this is for you ino (nsfw warning)
It’s been approximately half an hour since James has thrown his phone across from him on the mattress and then flung himself onto his bedroom floor and anxiously been doing sit-ups to distract himself from the atrocity he’s just committed.
He’s utterly, absolutely and astronomically fumbled it, is what he’s done.
James counts 283 and there’s a knock on the door.
Hm. He wasn’t expecting visitors.
James gets up and strips his shirt on the way, balling it up in his hands to dab at the sweat that’s been collecting on his face and neck and pads to the front door of his small apartment.
He doesn’t bother peeking through the spy hole but instead swings the door open, ready to help a stranger to their right destination. Most likely someone else’s flat in the building. James is positive that he has the last names from the doorbell signs down enough to give helpful instructions.
What he doesn’t expect to see there, is a familiar face.
Or, rather, a much too familiar, instantly heart beat skipping, agonizingly pretty face.
Regulus is standing there, arms ramrod straight at his sides and face flushed. “What exactly did you mean when you texted— and you’re naked.”
James looks down on himself but sure enough he’s still in shorts, socks and slippers.
He gazes back up at Regulus who sorta looks more flushed than just a second ago, but perhaps it’s just a trick of the light.
“Why are you naked?” Regulus presses out. “And sweaty?” His tone makes it sound more like a statement.
Shit, does James stink? When was the last time he used deodorant? His shower after lunch? Yes, he did. That should do.
James shakes his head, “I’m not naked.” He gestures down at himself.
Regulus makes a noise like he’s frustrated and his eyes roll back. James is not thinking any indecent thoughts.
“Why are you like—” Regulus gestures at James as well. There’s a lot of gesturing going on comparatively to how short this conversation has been going on. “—like this?”
James refuses the instinct to let out a dumb Uhh and think of a plausible answer instead. He shrugs feebly, “Been doing sit-ups.”
“Sit-ups?” Regulus parrots in vague disbelief. His arms cross in front of his chest, frown pulling at his expression. James wants to bite his cheek.
“Yes,” he confirms. He rubs his shirt along his neck once more. “Um,” James mentally slaps himself, “did you want- I mean, was there something you came here for?”
“Is there something I—” Regulus makes another one of his noises and then simply stalks past James and into his apartment.
“Yeah, sure, come in,” James calls after him, closing the door. He turns just in time to see Regulus disappear into his bedroom. “I- Reg, what? Wait a god damn second.” He quickly heads after the younger man just to find him searching around his room like—and there’s really no better way of phrasing it—a drug sniffer dog.
Before James can even get a word out Regulus toes off his sneakers and gets on his bed, working around in the sheets. It takes no longer than a few seconds before he resurfaces with a vindictive A-ha, proceeding to hold up James’ phone.
James feels his cheeks heat with familiar shame.
And he feels them heat even more when Regulus clambers off his bed, the curls of his hair all tousled, and steps up to where James is rooted to the spot. He holds the phone screen up at James in an almost accusatory way. Yet, again, before James can even think to explain, Regulus snatches it away again and swipes his thumb over the screen.
James’ jaw almost unhinges, “Did you just do that to unlock my phone with face ID?”
“Yup,” Regulus says, tapping away on James’ phone.
“I-” and that manages to snap James out of it and catapult him into a more intelligent homo sapiens headspace, “Give me that!”
“No,” Regulus counters immediately, stemming a surprisingly deft palm against James’ sternum. He makes another swipe for his phone but Regulus keeps angling himself away with all the grace of a younger sibling that’s taken something that doesn’t belong to them.
James whines and tries wrapping an arm around Regulus to pull him closer, to get closer to the phone that is held one Regulus arms length away. Regulus makes a noise, a different one, but inexorably no less sexy. “Stop that,” he chides.
“You stop it,” James volleys back, desperately trying to keep his focus on the fact that Regulus is currently still going through his phone for whatever reason and off how good the other feels pressed right up against James body. “What are you even trying to—”
With a sudden start Regulus’ posture changes and he twists around to shove the phone back into James’ face. If James wasn’t so focused on not focusing on Regulus’ hand on his biceps and the way his belt is pressing just right against James’ crotch, he might not have taken as long as he does to realize what Regulus is trying to show him.
“So?” Regulus demands, wiggling the phone in front of James’ nose, just as his eyes adjust to the proximity of the object.
The screen projects their chat.
It presents James with the two most idiotic text messages he’s ever hit send on. But it also tells him Regulus’ reaction he so clearly unsuccessfully tried to avoid.
16:42 you’re more stupid than i thought if you really believe that inexperience consequences bad sex, potter
16:43 did you not also hear pandora and dorcas deflower each other in the room over at my birthday party in year 11?
16:46 wait are you drunk??
16:46 it’s literally not even five pm
16:51 if you’re not answering me in the next 10 minutes the offer is off the table..
17:00 james i’m fucking serious
17:00 also, don’t you dare answer if you’re gonna make that joke
17:01 i will actually choke you to death
17:05 hello??
17:08 i’m coming over
And, well.
James doesn’t really know what to say. Or think. Or do.
Anything really.
Regulus is glaring up at him next to his phone screen and it’s searing. He’s warm too, sturdy and a comfortable weight in James’ arm.
Oh, he really doesn’t want to let go. That he knows. That James is more than one hundred percent sure of.
And he’s here. Regulus threatened to pull back on his agreement to James’ insane question but instead of actually doing so he came here.
James asked Regulus if he would like to have sex with him, told him that he’s in truth a virgin and not at all confident in doing well in bed, and Regulus had put on his fucking shoes and walked his snotty, sexy, little ass the 7 minutes it takes to get from his shared flat to James’.
It’s a little too good to be true.
A fresh apple found on the forest ground of rotting foliage and James is waiting for net to snap up beneath his feet and hold him in elevated imprisonment.
James has to ask. “Why’d you come over, Reg?”
Regulus clicks his tongue. “Why do you think?”
“I don’t want to guess,” James insists as Regulus crosses his arms again, averting his eyes, “I want to know.”
A moment ticks by, and then another, in which Regulus stubbornly stares at a spot over James’ shoulder, not saying a word.
James reaches around further and pinches Regulus’ waist to make him jump. He does, predictably, and then bares his teeth in an almost growl when he returns to face James. “Because…” Regulus sighs out of his nose with force.
James holds him tighter at the waist again, in warning. Coincidentally pulling Regulus more onto him, making them both gasp softly.
Regulus’ lips part and James eyes bulge. “Sorry,” he mutters, voice husky.
Regulus groans, almost distressed, and James is about to apologize properly when Regulus stops him short. “Because,” he erupts, “you’re like stupidly hot, James, and it’s fucking pissing me off. It’s been pissing me off for a good five years, at this point, and I feel like if I don’t do anything about it, I will go mental.”
Oh.
James needs a moment to process that. Several actually.
The muscles in his arm start straining from how tight he’s holding Regulus against him but James doesn’t care. All he can think about is Regulus at 19, shy and small, but spitting venom at any attempt of getting closer. A time where Regulus’ hair was short and choppy after he cut it all off himself, where his skin was still pale and untouched by ink, where he still had a lot to unlearn but was visibly thankful for the environment he was brought into through his brother. That little baby snake, teeth sharp and going for an attack every few seconds, wasn’t repulsed by James at all. He was angry with himself for not being repulsed by James.
Oh, James should have known, he should have noticed. Or at least it shouldn’t have taken him this long to fucking find out. Because it only took about two years before Regulus started to become malleable in James’ proximity, in his palm. Jabs easier, quips more playful, and an uptick of the corner of his mouth. James had nearly run laps from the happiness these small victories brought the first few times they happened.
But it was supposed to happen like this. If James has learned one thing from building his relationship with Regulus, it’s patience, no matter how badly he’d wanted to tear out his own hair at times. It would have been no use rushing into it and scaring him off.
Because now Regulus is the one who came, who made the step. Who is here, in James’ arms, a desperate, pretty little thing. Worn thin and helpless, eager and frustrated and—
“You’re into me?” James breathes, something inside his chest fluttering.
“I just said that,” Regulus scowls again and James almost explodes.
His still unsure how to do this but James wants, fuck, he wants so badly. Wants to eat Regulus, wants to fuse with him, wants Regulus to spit in his open mouth and make him swallow.
James has made out with people before, at parties. He’s been told he’s a good kisser.
“Reg.”
“What?”
“Can I kiss you?”
Regulus does a double take at him. His mouth drops open and his eyes go all wide and soft, gaze so dewy it nearly cuts James off at the knees.
“You—” Regulus interrupts himself in favor of pulling James down by his nape. Fingers wind themselves into the back of James’ hair at the same time as Regulus licks his tongue between James’ lips and it’s heaven.
Immediately James’ body feels oversensitive, blood rushing and prickling inside his veins like sour candy, light headed, gut clenching, lips tingling where he can feel Regulus’ press against his. It’s wet and open mouth, nip of teeth, but it’s soft, gentle despite that.
James lets out a happy sigh and it turns into a moan when Regulus tugs at his roots. Turns into panting and a whimper when Regulus breaks off but keeps his hips pressed into James’.
Oh, that’s dangerous. That’s so, so d—
“James, did you just get hard this quickly?”
Again, it sounds less like a question and more like a statement. Which, technically it has every right to be, since Regulus is completely correct.
It doesn’t feel quite on par with James’ ego to outright and immediately admit it though so he intelligently keeps gaping at Regulus momentarily.
But Regulus isn’t having it. He fastens his grip in James’ messy hair, his other hand coming up to loosely rest against the base of James’ throat and then Regulus leans in to lick at the seam of his lips. Touching just the tip of his tongue to James’ sensitive kissed, open mouth like he’s coaxing the answer out of him like that.
Insane behavior. James needs to lock Regulus away from everybody else in the world. He can’t have him going around being this hot just for anyone to see.
It works though, in a way, at least. James doesn’t manage to form a coherent verbal answer but his hips do the job for him when he ruts them forth and into Regulus in response.
The younger bites his lower lip at that, pupils blown and smoldering, “That’s a yes, I suspect.” And then Regulus says something that is the exact moment of the beginning of James Fleamont Potter’s ruination as the world knows and adores him. He knocks James head around slightly, carefully and coos at him gently. And then Regulus says, “Already stupid in the head, huh?”
James’ body nearly takes a screenshot. His gut tightens immediately, all the blood leaving his head and rushing straight to his cock, so fast and hard it’s dizzying. The tips of his fingers tingle with blood loss and a noise rips from his throat that’s as animalistic as it is pathetic.
From then it’s all a bit hazy.
There’s a lot of begging involved on James’ part and a lot of leading on Regulus’. They end up on the bed, kissing each other’s mouths raw, James on his back and Regulus in his lap, grinding down on him like he’s trying to grade James’ braincells away like a parmesan. It’s working. To the point where he’s so lost in the feel and weight of Regulus, in all the way he makes him feel good like the fucking angel that he is, that James doesn’t even notice he’s about to cum before it’s too late.
It barrels through him like a fucking freight train, spilling into his shorts, Regulus pressing down on and milking it out of him.
One would imagine this is already intense enough but then Regulus mumbles something into his ear and James vaguely remembers blushing again and nodding. There’s the sound of a zipper and some adjusting and then Regulus lets out a shaky moan that has James snapping back into the present so fast he’s afraid he gave himself whiplash.
Because Regulus is on top of him, hand down his jeans and eyebrows scrunched like he’s feeling just so fucking good and James has to kiss him again. They do that until Regulus shudders through his own orgasm and James feels like his bones turned into al dente pasta.
And lastly, because Regulus is still an evil, little shit, he gives James one more dirty, wet kiss before extracting himself entirely.
He pats James on the knee as he rebuttons his trousers, “Now, if you wanna continue this, you know where to find me. And you better text me back before I get home or this’ll be the last time you had an orgasm through your dick.”
James just so refrains from telling him he’s in love with him.
I know there's already at least one going around but I figured we could have a Salt and Light based one (if there's not one of those already too, sorry if there is)!
Rules:
Share a snippet from one of your WIPs!
Tag a friendo or many!
Optional but appreciated: Comment on someone's snippet!
WIP Snip from my unnamed dark fantasy
Jasper didn't say anything, but Echo could sense her unspoken words.
"Don't leave," he said. "We need you."
I need you.
Jasper didn't have any time to reply, because the Tahoe swerved suddenly as Mitch yelled out a curse.
He narrowly missed diving into the ditch, but the overcorrection in addition to the curve of the road sent them straight into the other one, and they started tipping–but a force from the side knocked them back into the road, and they spun and skidded until they finally came to a stop–upright.
"Everyone okay?" asked Mitch as he was fumbling to unbuckle.
A chorus of vague groans resounded.
Jasper blinked, disoriented, but her senses returned to her, mostly in the form of pain. She realized she had thwacked her head into the window and blacked out, and experienced the rest of the accident through the others.
She touched the side of her head, and it throbbed as she made contact with broken skin and warm liquid. She brought her hand in front of her face.
Her fingers were covered in blood, and the smell of copper stung her nostrils.
I tag @holyfishsticksironman, @limitlessvictor, and anyone else who wants to do this!
@croptopjames submission for mr james fleamont potter's birthday<3
2598 words - NSFW - cw: spanking, squirting, dirty talk, lil bit of degradation theyre being nasty idk it escalated
aka feral fucking your husband after seeing him in a shirt that doesn't quite fit like it used to~
“Baby, I’m home,” Regulus shouts after entering the front door, kicking it closed behind him with his foot as he balances the huge ice cream cake precariously on both his hands.
They’ve invited the whole family as per usual, what with their first year with Harry out of the house coming back from uni for his dad’s special day, Sirius and Remus driving down and picking up Effie and Monty on the way. All their friends will come later this week for brunch.
Today it’s just the few of them though and Regulus finds himself with a spring in his step at the thought of all of them together today.
James has taken the day off and Regulus was able to weasel his way into only half a shift today which he nearly missed entirely after the way James had sat down in his lap first thing in the morning and ridden him until he was shaking, cursing and babbling incoherently, all the while his husband was seated on his throne, smiling brightly, happiest man in the world, practically taking the matter of his birthday gift into his own hands.
“Hi love!” comes from somewhere on the higher level of the house.
Regulus brings the cake into the kitchen, shrugging off his jacket and quickly dispensing the celebratory sweet in the freezer before James sees it.
Not a moment after Regulus closes the drawer to grab a bowl of blueberries from the fridge James comes into the kitchen, huffing and cheeks flushed, a presumably heavy box of just…stuff in his arms that he must have gotten from the attic.
“James,” Regulus starts, blinking, “You were supposed to take the day off.”
His husband smacks a content kiss onto his cheek, grinning brightly. His glasses are smudged and sitting crookedly over his nose and Regulus is pretty sure he spotted a bit of spiderwebs in the mess of his hair.
“Ehh,” James makes dismissively, “I still felt restless after I hit the gym this morning once you left.”
He places the box down with a heavy thunk, petting its side like a horse—he’s such a dad, “And we’ve been wanting to get started on these babies after spring cleaning anyway, remember?”
Regulus rolls his eyes, fondness betraying him when the corners of his mouth tug upwards, “Mm, that might be true. Still it’s your birthd—”
Regulus halts.
“Love?” James looks at him inquiringly, hands propped on his hips.
On his very much naked hips. A palm length sliver of skin exposed between the indecently thin and short gym shorts and the—
“James, baby, what are you wearing?”
Oh, Regulus’ mouth is so, so dry.
“Huh?” James looks down at himself, shuffling in place before his head snaps back up to Regulus, “Oh! Yeah I found one of my old shirts from uni.” His husband snickers, giving a little twirl and shaking his hips from side to side like he isn’t currently taking five years off Regulus’ life expectancy.
“You–” Regulus stops again, eyes glued to the small swell of his stomach over the band of the white shorts, the dark hair splattered all over and coiling at the center, carving a path up and downwards. It’s downright indecent. His arms fill out the shirt just how they used to back in uni but with the difference that it’s more fat than muscle now—though Regulus knows well enough from personal experience how strong his husband still is. His pecs are visibly straining the material, the washed out, maroon letters spelling HOGWARTS cracking from the stretch.
Even more so when James leans back on his palms against the dining table, draping himself all prettily against the edge and smiling coyly, blinking doe brown eyes from under long lashes at Regulus as if he didn’t already have him warpped around his finger hook, line and sinker.
“Baby,” Regulus rasps and he barely recognises his own voice.
“Yeah, Reg?” James purrs, tilting his head and exposing the expanse of his neck.
“How long until Harry arrives?”
“An hour or two, depending on traffic,” James responds, voice all husky. Regulus is going to wreck him. Reduce him to a stuttering, squirting mess in the matter of half an hour, take his fucking word for it.
“Good enough,” Regulus grits out and then he crosses the distance in two long strides, already yanking at his tie.
They meet in a mess of parted lips, clicking teeth and tongues nudging, eager as ever, trying to lick into each other’s mouths and taste. Greedy for it, happily swallowing moans and tugging their bodies close. They slot into each other easily, practiced after all these years, decades and Regulus reckons that’s how they somewhat safely find their way onto the couch.
Regulus’ back hits the cushions with a soft oompf, barely time to gasp another breath and reach for his husband before James is straddling his lap, clasping Regulus’ stubbly jaw in warm, calloused palms and pulling him right back into their kiss. They don’t stay there for long with the way James is restlessly shifting on top of him, grinding his crotch right against the bulge in Regulus’ slacks, making them both groan.
At some point Regulus abandons James’ mouth in favor of kissing over the stubble of his cheek and jaw and latch onto his throat while simultaneously trying to get his stupid shirt buttons open. When the takes too long however James seems to grow impatient, batting his hands away and fumbling with them himself while they pant and grunt into each other’s mouths.
Regulus is nipping at James’ lower lip, already swollen and an obscene kiss bitten red and his husband makes a sound. Downright needy and he’s sitting there on top of Regulus, flushed and with that dazed look in his eyes, moaning like a little slut, so Regulus can’t quite help himself when he pulls one hand around and smacks James’ firmly on the bum.
It elicits a gasp, high pitched and followed by a long, drawn out moan and James sinking deeper into his lap, recapturing his mouth and desperately rutting down against where Regulus is hard and already throbbing. It’s a medical miracle, truly, that no matter how many times they’ve had sex, Regulus’ erection is always at its best form for James.
“Mnh,” James makes, their lips parting with a wet smacking noise, “Need you, baby.”
Regulus grunts, fingers digging harshly into the meat of James’ arse, “Slut.”
Just like expected, James whimpers, and so prettily at that. Eyebrows scrunching pitifully and he grinds once more, helplessly, “Please, please.”
“But of course, sweety,” Regulus relents easily, licking a hot stripe up his neck, along his jawbone and then right across his slack mouth, “Anything for the birthday boy.”
James moans in response, nodding his head frantically.
Regulus nods his head towards the end of the couch where the pillows are piled, “Scoot up.”
His husband does so dutifully and it doesn’t take longer than a second for Regulus to make James lift his hips and rip the sheer piece of nylon off and throw it over his shoulder, not quite surprised yet still horribly taken off guard by the lack of boxer briefs underneath.
Regulus is left with nothing to do but stare at the mess of wet, thick curls and pink fold glistening with James’ slick, spit pooling under his tongue in an instant. He grabs James’ ankles, settling them over his shoulders, trainers still on and letting his hands drive over white tennis socks, hairy shins and strong calves. Digging his thumb in there and relishing in the gasp he elicits from his husband that way, hips twitching with the suspense. Regulus strokes up his boney knees, massages the big muscle of his thighs, the hair tickling his palms softly, all the while letting himself pitch forward, making sure to spill warm breath over where James wants him most right now.
He goes further, letting his hands rake up and over his stomach, rucking the shirt up as he goes and tucking it over the swell of his pecks, exposing him for Regulus to play with.
James is panting, short little puffs of breath, brimming with excitement and barely refraining from whimpering on the way out each time.
Predictably, he breaks once Regulus lazily swirls a tongue around his exposed nipple, holding the eye contact and watching with satisfaction as James’ eyelids flutter. He can’t help but grin, nipping at the hardened nub before he retreats, settling himself comfortably between James’ thighs and without warning diving right in.
James positively screams the moment Regulus closes his lips around his cock, sucking him into his mouth and rolling him around between his lips until the bucking of his hips throws him off. Regulus hoists an arm over James’ hips, belting him down, and wastes no time inserting one finger into James’ searing wetness, sinfully hot inside.
“Ahh yesyes, please more, love, please m-hah—” James babbles, throwing his head back when Regulus drives into him with another finger, crooking them upwards and watching shamelessly as his husband’s precum pools all over his digits before diving back in to lick at his little cock.
He works them steadily up to each finger until he is four in deep, repeatedly hitting that spot inside of James and sucking and mouthing at the bundle of nerves until James’ noises grow an edge.
“You gonna cum for me, baby?” Regulus asks, muffled between licks, jaw aching slightly.
“Yeah, yeah, gonna– hnng,” James breaks off, screwing his eyes shut when Regulus gives a particularly harsh suck, noises obscenely loud.
He’s fisting the cushions like his life depends on it, white knuckling them in his grip, and it only takes a handful more thrusts and licks before James is shuddering through his first orgasm. Breaths coming quicker until he eventually breaks off into a keen, thighs quivering around Regulus’ head, squeezing at his skull and riding it out, grinding his cunt uncoordinatedly forward into Regulus’ face all the while convulsing around his fingers.
He squeezes in waves of pleasure and it makes Regulus so delirious that he blinks and the next thing he knows is him kneeling against James’ ass, belt undone, slacks shoved down just enough and prodding at his slick, puffy entrance with the head of his cock.
James is staring unblinkingly at the ceiling, mouth agape and pupils so dilated they’ve swallowed most of the beautiful, dark chocolate brown.
“Baby,” Regulus prompts, bending James’ knees towards his ears with a grunt, “Jamie, be a good boy and hold these there for me.”
His husband slowly blinks him back into focus, silently obliging and hooking his fingers into the bend of his knees—thank the higher powers James still does yoga once a week.
Regulus leans in, one hand holding him up off the couch, the other fisting around the length of him and smearing it through James’ wetness, “Now are you going to be able to be good and keep yourself wide open for me or are you already fucked too stupid, huh? An old man? Maybe we should postpone it for next year, ay papi, what do you say?”
James whines pathetically, rubbing his head into one of the throw pillows, knotting his black hair up even more before he swallows frantically, “No, Reg, pleaseplease, I can take it. Please, love, I’m gonna be good for you, I prom–Aah—”
Regulus bottoms out in one smooth thrust, vision dotting with black spots at the mind bending heat and vice grip James has on him, already pulsing around him shallowly.
He grants James a moment to get used to being full, slowly rocking his hips back and forth and listening for when his whimpers turn into soft moans, turning needy again, and then he reaches up to grip his chin, “Then take it, slut.”
The pace he picks up into is hard, not too fast but unforgiving and steady, a sure way to drive James crazy. Regulus nips his way along his husband’s chest, nuzzling his nose through chest hair and biting and licking at his dark nipples, tasting salt and sweat, feeling his cock twitch at the taste deep inside his husband.
When Regulus feels himself lose rhythm he hikes James’ legs impossibly higher, draping one of them over his shoulder before he starts spanking him again. The angle is awkward but it’s working, going off of the way James keeps jerking at the stinging contact, clenching around the length of Regulus and working himself into a frenzy, gasping and whimpering and groaning like he’s getting the best cock of his entire life.
“Touch yourself, baby,” Regulus demands, breath stuttering as he watches a fat tear roll down the side of James’ face, disappearing into the shorter hair at his temple.
Regulus keeps James’ thighs wide and open, rolling his hips with abandon, groaning and panting with every thrust, feeling sweat bead on his forehead and desperately trying not to lose control when James snakes a hand between his legs, frantically circling his cock while Regulus keeps pumping in and out of him.
“If you could only see yourself, baby,” Regulus grits out, “Fucking masterpiece, splayed out for me like this. Obliging my every demand, so fucking good, baby.”
James moans happily, tongue lolling out and without thinking Regulus sticks two of his fingers into his mouth, rubbing over his tongue and feeling the saliva coat them thickly.
“Can you go ahead and cum for me again, Jamie?”
James whines an affirmative around his digits, slurping messily, a trickle of drool trailing down the corner off his mouth.
“Think you’ll be a good boy and squirt all over me, baby? You know how much I love when you cum like that, hm?”
James breath hitches impossibly, eyes threatening to flutter shut as he nods deliriously.
Regulus quickly grabs him by the jaw, “Keep looking at me, James. I know you can do that for me, baby.”
And so he does.
On the next thrust James starts quivering again, fingers working furiously over his cock, mouth falling open around a silent scream and gazing Regulus right in the eyes as he pounds into him and James squirts around him. Spraying everywhere, absolutely in all directions and fucking messy, wetting Regulus’ torso and the couch—Regulus wouldn’t be surprised if the carpet wasn’t unscathed either.
That’s really all Regulus can take before his hips stutter in their pace and he buries himself deep inside James, letting the pulsing of his husband’s orgasm milk him dry as he spills and spills his cum into James for what feels like minutes on end.
At some point James lets his trembling legs back down, crossing his ankles tightly under Regulus’ bum as this one keeps jerking into his husband’s hole.
Once they’re both done Regulus is too exhausted to do anything else but collapse forward into James’ chest which he accepts with a happy hum.
They take a few minutes like this, James slowly coming to and starting to play with the curls at Regulus’ nape and Regulus breathing in the comforting scent of James, raking his short nails up and down the side of his ribcage.
After a while James presses a feebly kiss into the side of Regulus’ head, huffing out a big breath that makes Regulus rise with the motion of his chest before he snickers, “Well, happy fucking birthday to me.”
Regulus chuckles into the crook of James’ neck, dropping a kiss there before lifting and staring into his husband’s droopy eyes, “Yeah, happy fucking birthday to you, baby.”
@jegulus-microfic march 25 - eyeliner - 2341 words
<33 of losing babies and chance meetings in hawaii
Regulus rubs at his eyes, smudging the remains of eyeliner from the previous evening probably only more.
It’s been a wild night out given that Regulus found himself the only one out of his friend group appearing down for breakfast at the hotel’s buffet. He went for a classic hangover comfort food, coffee with beans and toast and while he longed for the sausages and eggs and fruit and frozen joghurt Regulus isn’t fool enough to think he would have been able to keep all of that down.
Sleep is already tugging at the corners of his mind again when he presses the elevator button to bring him back up to his hotel room to doze away another few more hours. There’s a nice breeze coming in from the double doors leading out to the pool and Regulus leans against the cooling marble of the wall, eyes closed, soaking it all in.
It’s been Pandora’s idea, to get the five of them out for a few days over easter, away from home. From work and family—not that the latter was much of Regulus’ concern—and Regulus must admit that this one is definitely one of her better experiments.
The elevator doors ding and Regulus blinks open his eyes and steps forward only to come to an immediate halt because—
Because there’s a baby in the lift.
Just– all by itself.
Sitting in its buggy. Completely at ease.
Alone.
No like…parent or guardian inside.
What appears to be a small boy with the wildest sort of curly, black hair Regulus has ever seen sits in his seat, one spiderman sock barely hanging onto his toes, chewing away on a toy in his lap and gazing with big, intensely green eyes up at Regulus.
“Uh, hi there, baby,” Regulus says. He sets a foot onto the threshold to keep the doors open and bends down, “Where’s your family, buddy?”
The kid suddenly throws his little body back into the padding of his buggy with a blinding grin and a screech of what Regulus assumes to be ecstatic elation, “Pafoo!”
“Bless you, mate,” Regulus replies politely.
The little boy reaches his hands out to Regulus, “Out!”
And, well, the little bugger might be onto something here because as of right now Regulus must look like a right nutter talking to the inside of an elevator and if the little one’s parents are going to try and find him they’ll probably start at the elevator areas on each floor.
So Regulus gets the small kid out of the elevator and wheels him over to where a set of dark leather sofas and armchairs are gathered opposite the elevator doors.
When Regulus sits down across from the little boy he giggles, happy as ever, as if nothing was amiss.
Well, at least the one time Regulus finds a lost baby it’s a happy one. Lucky draw, he thinks.
The boy is back to chewing on the little rubber ring again and Regulus eyes him curiously, chin propped on his fist. The boy’s skin is a warm brown, similar to Evan’s and Pandora’s and there’s a faint layer of freckles dotting his nose—just like it will happen to Regulus after a few more days out under the Hawaiian sunshine. There’s a small patch of drool on his yellow shirt but he looks clean otherwise.
After another moment of inner contemplation Regulus finally reaches out and tugs the sock back into place.
The boy snickers, wiggling his foot and Regulus finds his lips tugging at the corners.
“Pafoo, out!” the boy repeats again.
Regulus frowns, “Yeah, mate, I already got us off the elevator.”
The little boy keeps squirming in his seat.
“Oh,” Regulus makes when it dawns on him, “Oh, out. Er– yes, sure, hold on.”
He scoots forward on the leather to inspect the little belt trapping the boy in his seat. Eventually Regulus finds the lock, figures out the mechanism and untangles the boy from his buggy. Before he has the chance to freeze and wonder if the boy is even old enough to be able to walk yet there are small, chubby arms reaching out to him and tangling around his neck.
“Oh, okay,” Regulus blinks, feeling his tiny body warm where it’s pressed into his chest, “Um, okay, I’m– okay, uh. Hi.”
The boy pulls back from the crook of Regulus’ neck, smiling brightly. “Hi,” he replies, sweet as sugar and waving a hand at him. Regulus’ heart does not melt.
Regulus’ eyes however clock the small bracelet on the boy’s wrist, donned with little letters spelling out the name Harry.
“Harry, huh?” he asks. “My name is Regulus.”
Harry makes another one of his loud, elated noises, “Pafoo!”
“Nah, mate, Re-gu-lus.”
“Pafoo,” Harry grins.
“Fine,” Regulus sniffs, “I guess I shouldn’t expect too much from a one or two year old.”
Harry giggles again, nose scrunching adorably and hiccuping little laughs into Regulus’ shoulder.
If Regulus had ovaries he’s pretty sure they would be actively doing something right now which– is decidedly a disturbing thought to have. In a manner of trying to distract himself Regulus looks around, gaze landing on the socks once more.
“So what’s your favourite Spiderman movie, Harry?”
“Spidey!”
“Yes, which one?”
“Pafoo.”
“Mine’s probably the one with Andrew Garfield.”
“Mo!” Harry yells suddenly, pointing back at his buggy.
“Mo?” Regulus asks, confused.
“Mo,” Harry makes again, knocking his tiny, loosely curled fists against each other.
That’s when the clarity washes over Regulus, lips dropping open with a silent oh of understanding. It’s sign language for more.
He’s seen young parents teach their babies sign language for easier communication and with Dorcas being hard of hearing Regulus and his friends obviously have taken on learning a whole lot as well. The basics are as easy for Regulus as English and French are by now.
“More of what?” Regulus asks, doing the according signs.
“Tea!” Harry responds, smiling brightly, clearly happy with being understood.
Regulus kicks at the buggy to turn it and then fishes a sippy cup out of the holder next to the handles.
Harry slurps away at his cold tea content and does the little gulp ahh thing small kids do when they exhale once they’re done drinking.
Regulus does not think about adopting a baby.
“Harry!” someone calls from the end of the hall suddenly and may the gods stand by because the person running over is undoubtedly the most handsome man Regulus has ever seen.
The small boy in Regulus arms is literally a carbon copy what with the wild, black hair, the dark skin and the bright smile.
“Dada!” Harry yells, as if it wasn’t clear as day that they share the same DNA.
Regulus’ hands start sweating where they’re still around Harry’s now wiggling body, watching the young man rush over.
“Oh, god, thank you thank you,” the stranger chants, carefully lifting Harry out of Regulus’ hands, “Hi, baby, hi. Daddy’s here. Oh, holy fuck.”
Regulus snorts a little at the crude language but, alas, Harry is probably too young to remember anyways.
He gives them their little moment of embracing, fighting against the restless squirming in his stomach, the thing scratching at the inside of his walls demanding to find out everything about the cute boy’s father.
Once the young father has got enough squeeze time and Harry starts trying to wiggle free, he lets out another string of curses, this time Spanish, and Regulus barely refrains from whimpering.
He has to trap another one behind his teeth when the man finally, actually glances at him, relief clear on his features, laughing breathlessly and chocolate brown eyes glinting happily and with ebbing nerves.
“Thank you, I’m–” the handsome stranger blinks a little, mouth working uselessly before he slips back into a lopsided grin, “Hi, I’m James, you- wow, hello, uh– thank you, um, for Harry. I’m so glad he’s okay, I’m James– by the way. And you are? Aside from my gorgeous knight in shining armour.”
Regulus cocks a brow, hands on his naked hips right above the elastic of his short running pants and below his cropped, black shirt with pink letters saying those are bold words for someone in stabbing range. It was a Christmas present from his friends and the first thing he saw after rolling out of bed with a hangover this morning, sue him.
“No problem, he’s a little sunshine,” Regulus replies, gazing at Harry where he’s fiddling with James’ necklace, “I’m Regulus.”
“Wait,” James says, jaw dropping, “Your name is—”
“James!” it comes from the other side of the hall, followed by another rush of footsteps and Regulus turns to see two more men jogging over to them. One of them being—
“Jesus, fuck, I’m so glad you found him,” Sirius says, eyes fixated on James and Harry.
Sirius, as in, Regulus’ older brother Sirius.
Sirius, as in, Regulus’ older brother that he hasn’t seen in four years.
Sirius with his long-ish hair falling down to his armpits now in long, soft curls. Sirius with his arms full of tattoos and wearing red bootie shorts and having pierced nipples and Sirius with pink cheeks and a relieved look on his face and Sirius having his fingers interlaced with another man’s.
Sirius blowing out another breath as he strokes the little boy’s cheek carefully, “Where’d you find h—”
Sirius that swivels and looks right at Regulus standing dumbfounded in a random hotel lobby on fucking Hawaii.
“Regulus.”
“Sirius.”
“I– what are you doing here?”
Regulus narrows his eyes, “I found Harry.”
“You what?”
“Are you deaf?” Regulus shoots back, “I found your friend’s baby.”
Sirius’ mouth drops open, “Excuse me, that is my godson.”
Regulus slips into a frown, suddenly and stupidly feeling a bit possessive over the little kid that is clearly taken with him but apparently supposed to be his older brother’s godson.
He sniffs, crossing his arms, “Well, you’re clearly not doing your job well seeing as you’ve lost him. Also he called me his Pafoo.”
Regulus expects Sirius to volley back another insult, a counter-argument or something of the likes but instead he lets the loudest, most dramatic gasp rip from his throat.
“Oh God,” James mumbles, blanching but failing to keep his lips from twitching.
The man next to Sirius looks just as conflicted, instantly cooing into Sirius’ ear soothingly and rubbing his shoulder as this one whimpers like a wounded dog.
“What?” Regulus asks, looking at James.
The handsome father winces with a badly concealed grin before he ducks close, murmuring, “It’s Padfoot. That’s what we call Sirius, it’s sorta his nickname.”
Regulus can’t help it, the gleeful laugh bubbles right out of him. He could kiss little Harry right now.
“No!” Sirius wails, letting himself fall back into the lanky, taller man’s arms. “Betrayal!”
“Come now, Pads, he’s 18 months old,” the third man says soothingly.
“Remus is right,” James concurs, “Harry doesn’t even know my mum from our neighbour most times.”
“Effie doesn’t live with you,” Sirius cries out.
Regulus thinks there might actually be tears forming in his eyes.
“And neither do you,” James says pointedly, “You’re across the hall and you work full time, might I remind you. You’re over maybe four times a week.”
“Five! At least!”
“Sirius, darling, please stop yelling,” Remus mutters, glancing at a passing old couple with a wobbly smile.
Regulus grins, “No, please keep going, this is the highlight of my vacation so far.”
There’s a poke in his naked side and when Regulus looks over James is giving him a playful scolding glare.
Regulus digs his teeth into his lower lip, voice purposefully innocent, “What?”
“Don’t be a tease,” James chides but it sorta loses the edge with how wide he’s smiling.
“Or else?” Regulus counters.
James hums, giving Regulus a once over before clearing his throat, looking back at his friend, “Here, Moons, can you take Harry for a second?”
Sirius makes an affronted noise, looking downright stricken and he quickly takes Remus’ outstretched hands, pulling, what is presumably his boyfriend, out of reach for James. “Two Potters in one day!? Prongs, are you trying to kill me?”
James sighs, pulling Harry back against his hip which then decides to reach out his hands to Sirius, “Pafoo.”
“That’s right,” Sirius sniffs, crossing the distance and ripping Harry from James’ hold, “I love you, little stinker. You’ll get it with time, I know you will. You’re such a smart boy, Hazza.”
Harry immediately starts playing with the thin braids in Sirius’ hair and his brother swivels to level Regulus with a triumphant smirk.
“Whatever,” Regulus says, crossing his arms again.
But before jealousy, no matter over whom, can spread itself in Regulus’ chest, Sirius is stepping closer.
Regulus is certain their flip flops nearly touch and Sirius is staring at him intensely with the same eyes he sees in the mirror every day, and it makes him swallow. The freckle over Sirius’ mouth is just the same as four years ago, as is the one on Regulus’ temple.
“There’s a baby swimming lesson at the pool I wanted to attend with Harry later at 2,” Sirius says, voice husky, “Care to join?”
Regulus was supposed to meet the others back in Barty and Evan’s room at 3 but they’re probably passed out until then anyways. “I think I can make some time,” he replies airily.
Sirius blows out a heavy breath through his nose, before slipping into a grin, “Good.”
“Good,” Regulus mimics.
“I bet Harry floats better than you,” Sirius taunts, “Do you still sink like a stone?”
“It’s amazing how much of a talent you still possess for making me regret things,” Regulus snips back.
Sirius bumps their shoulder together, making Harry giggle and Regulus purses his lips in an effort to hide his smile.
And then James is there on the other side of him, taking Harry back from Sirius and smiling sweetly down at Regulus and for some reason his cheeks feel a little warmer suddenly.
—
[also for personal reasons i need everyone to know these were the booty shorts sirius was wearing]
