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lackadaisicallizard · 7 months

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Sundays

Growing up, Regulus hated Sundays.

Sundays were mornings spent in church, pretending to the world that they were a perfect family. Sundays were stuffy clothes and tight ties wrapped around throats spouting nothing but lies about the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black.

Sundays were carefully coordinated games disguised as family lunches, the entire extended family coming together to outdo each other in just how well they were doing. Sundays were masterclasses in manipulation, lies and deceit.

But now, fifteen years later on the most ordinary of all days, Regulus can hear voices coming from the kitchen.

“I think that’s enough eggs, Haz, why don’t you add more flour now?”

“How much do I need to add?”

“I have no idea, just pour until it looks right.”

Sliding on his slippers, Regulus makes his way out of the bedroom and down the hall, stopping in the doorway of the kitchen. He leans against the doorframe for a moment, watching the scene in front of him.

“How’s it going there?” His husband peers into the mixing bowl that seems to have more eggs in it than any hen could feasibly lay in a year.

“The flour won’t come out of the bag,” Harry says with a frown.

“Try banging on the end of it,” James suggests and before Regulus can even consider stepping in to stop him, their son does just that. He is far too much like his father for his own good sometimes.

Flour ends up everywhere.

“Papa’s going to kill me,” Harry groans through a layer of white dust.

“Papa doesn’t have to know,” James says, “you finish the batter and I’ll clean it up.”

Harry stirs it, a puff of flour rising into the air. “I think it may be beyond saving now, Dad.”

“J’en ai marre,” their heads whip around at the sound of Regulus’ voice, both faces a similar mask of concern. “You two are useless.”

He steps into the kitchen now, holding out his hand for the bowl, which Harry passes him with a guilty expression. “I love you?”

Regulus’ own expression softens completely at that and he places the bowl on the counter before holding out his arms for his son. Harry moves into them without hesitation, being pulled into a warm embrace and leaning into his father. “Tu es la lumière de ma vie,” Regulus says, pressing a kiss to the top of Harry’s soft curls before pulling back and looking at him in the eyes. “That doesn’t mean you can get flour all over my kitchen though, compris?”

“Oui papa, désolé. We were just trying to make you breakfast in bed.”

“It’s true,” James cuts in, a smile pulling up the corner of his lips, “we know you’ve had a long week so we thought we’d make some pancakes.”

Regulus smiles back, he can’t help himself. “I’m not sure which one of you thought you could pull that off considering the great scrambled egg fiasco last month.”

“Those eggs were delicious and you know it!”

“I had to go to the store for more and make them myself.”

“… my comment still stands,” James says with a grin and Regulus rolls his eyes at his husband.

“Harry, go and fetch the chocolate chips from the cupboard and I’ll attempt to salvage this.”

Harry disappears into the pantry and as Regulus starts to decanter as much flour as he can from the very floury bowl, he feels arms wrap around him from behind.

“I’m sorry about the flour,” James’ voice is low in his ear.

Regulus hums. “I would say I’m surprised, but I’m not.”

A soft chuckle followed by lips against his hair. “I’m also sorry for ruining your Sunday, love. I know it’s the first day you’ve had off in a while.”

But the thing is, he hasn’t.

Because Regulus knows what a bad Sunday feels like. They’re ingrained into his brain.

But this right here? Making far too much batter to even out the mountain of flour that he can’t salvage from the bowl. Allowing his son to add almost an entire bag of chocolate chips to the mixture. Watching his husband smother a tower of pancakes with syrup and whipped cream. Cleaning up an incredibly messy kitchen together as a family after they’ve done.

Well, this is what Sundays are now. They’re not perfect, or proper, or in the least bit civilised.

And he loves every one.

#marauders #james potter #regulus black #jegulus #jegulus raising harry #jegulus dads #I'm obsessed with them

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sommerregenjuniluft · 2 months

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@jegulus-microfic feb 12 - fireside - 1k words

aka teenager!Harry and jeggy dads comforting him

Regulus startles awake at the sound of the front door and blinks his eyes open to Harry standing before it, shoulders tense and a deep crease between his brows. He slips into a little more sheepish expression when he realises he’s just woken Regulus up.

James is still snoring lightly next to him, one arm thrown over his head and shirt rucked up to expose the wide happy trail over his belly.

“Sorry,” Harry mumbles, visibly gnawing on the inside of his cheek as he kicks off his converse.

“That’s okay,” Regulus responds, voice raspy from residual sleep, and he watches Harry stiffly hang his jacket and then just stare back at their front door like it personally offended him.

Regulus sniffs and detangles himself from James’ big, heavy arm half thrown around his shoulders to get up. Harry only swivels his head once Regulus comes up right behind him, plush slippers shuffling against the hardwood floor.

The hard line looks even deeper up close and Regulus’ heart clenches with it as Harry looks up at him with a stormy kind of torment in his beautiful, big eyes. He clasps his son’s neck with a palm and tugs him into motion, nodding down the hall.

“Kitchen,” he decides and Harry nods, letting himself be guided into the adjacent room.

Regulus seats him on one of the stools at the kitchen island and tugs a few scratch cards from the mail on the counter in front of him. Harry pulls his wallet out of his jeans’ back pocket, letting it slap down on the tabletop before grabbing it again and rummaging for a fitting coin as Regulus goes to grab two mugs for them.

He grabs Harry’s favourite—a birthday present from Ron and Hermoine engraved with a bunch of pictures of them, the handle and inside dark red—and then the curvy white one with a cat wearing sunglasses sketch art for himself. Regulus pours milk and pops them into the microwave.

When he turns Harry is furiously rubbing away on the sweepstakes, already through his third and bouncing his knee restlessly in his seat.

Regulus lets him do as he needs, watching him as he waits for the microwave to ping. He grabs the honey from the shelf, fishes for a spoon in the cutlery drawer and assembles their hot beverage once the mugs are ready to be taken out.

The spoon is clinking against the ceramic as Regulus mixes in the viscous sugar and when he turns to join his son, Harry is already standing in front of him, expression troubled, still.

His back to the kitchen light Regulus can see Harry’s eyes glassy behind his specs so he puts the mugs down on the counter again and opens his arms for Harry to step into.

His son goes immediately, slumping forward and wrapping his arms loosely around his back, forehead coming down on the top of Regulus’ shoulder with a heavy sigh. Regulus cups the back of his head, fingers scratching soothingly and the other hand driving long strokes up and down his back. His hoodie smells smoky, his hair too—he must have been at the fireside with his friends again.

“Bad evening?” Regulus mumbles into the black bird’s nest of his son’s hair.

Harry ruts his forehead against him in a nod, grunting an affirmative.

Regulus sighs, “I’m sorry about that, bug.”

There’s a sniffle, more nodding and Regulus suspects Harry is carefully choosing not to use his voice again lest it breaks.

“Want to tell me about it?”

Harry lifts his head and Regulus’ hands go to cup his cheeks. “Maybe later,” he answers with a shrug, eyes averted.

“Of course,” Regulus nods, swiping his thumbs over Harry’s temples.

“It’s just–” he breaks off with a huff and Regulus ducks his head to catch his gaze.

“Just…?”

Harry takes a deep breath, “There’s someone.” He scrunches his nose so hard is dislodges his glasses, “They’re fucking infuriating, honestly.”

“Okay,” Regulus nods. He lightly narrows his eyes, “In a feelings kind of way?”

Harry groans bitterly at that, head tipping back and eyes clamping shut. “I hate being a teenager.”

The corners of his lips tug but Regulus reigns it in quickly enough before Harry sees. He rakes his fingers through his son’s hair instead and pulls him into a fierce forehead kiss.

Harry sighs explosively and simply returns back to the embrace just when James, expression sleep bleary and hair somehow more awful than their sons, shuffles into the kitchen, scratching through the hair on his stomach. They exchange a quick glance once James blinks the situation into consciousness, noticing the violated scratch cards and probably the smell of sweetened milk in the air as well.

“I love you, baby,” Regulus mumbles in a remindful tone, arms squeezing around their son.

Harry’s hair tickles Regulus’ nose when he nods. “I know.”

James drapes himself over Harry’s back, his hands sliding along Regulus waist and down until he can comfortably hook his thumbs into the waistband of Regulus’ sweats. “Love you, Hazza,” his husband mumbles, voice firm despite the sleep clinging to it and his beard scratching against the lining of Harry’s hoodie.

Regulus kisses the crown of his head and then the side of Harry’s.

They make an additional mug for James—with double the amount of honey for his husband because that glorious dad-stomach doesn’t come from just anywhere—and then all pile on the couch, huddled close together under the throw blanket as James puts on Brooklyn99 on Netflix.

Regulus’ arm is numb in a matter of ten minutes and James is back asleep in a matter of five. The soft snoring seems to be great background white noise though because they barely get through one episode when Harry’s breaths start coming slower as well where he’s cuddled into their sides.

He clicks the TV off, sinking deeper into the sofa cushions and when Regulus falls asleep it’s to the sounds of his family and the smell of warm honey and a whiff of smokey bonfire.

They should make smores tomorrow.

#james is a premium dilf in this one #regulus Studied. those parenting books #jegulus dads #jegulus raising harry #jegulus microfic #james potter #regulus black #jegulus #starchaser #sunseeker #lune’s tiny fic

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y0url0verb0y · 6 months

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Sometimes I think about Jegulus' kid finding a feral raccoon in the trash and bringing it in the house because "it's so cute" and it just ends up being Barty.

#marauders #marauders harry potter #james potter #jegulus #regulus black #jegulus dads #barty crouch jr #rosekiller #evan rosier #barty is a raccoon

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jaioes · 6 months

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Spider family costume for halloween!

Tumblr getting this early today ✨✨🦌🐈‍⬛⚡️

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functionalbidisaster · 9 months

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the scariest thing a mauraders fan can see…..

a mother with her child 😱😱😱🤯🤯

no but seriously you guys need to stop acting like harry and teddy don’t have mothers who they miss dearly and would do anything to be able to meet

also, lily and tonks would 100% be involved in raising them even if wolfstar and jegulus were a thing so PLEASE stop acting like they don’t exist and only using them to give your mlm ship a kid

so you can write fics where wolfstar raises teddy or jegulus raises harry, i don’t care, have fun, go crazy. just stop erasing lily and tonks completely because they WOULD be in their children’s life

also also, because i’m feeling extra petty here’s more mothers and their children for the drarry fans who do the same thing

😱😱 frightening i know

it’s like everyone forgets that mothers exist

(also i don’t support jkr or am really in the hp fandom, i just decided to scroll through some of the tags because i was bored) (also be thankful because i could of been a lot more petty if i wanted to be)(i also know not all fans do this but a lot do)

art credits:

tonks and teddy - rielles96 on instagram and tumblr

lily and harry - cableknit_remus on instagram and tumblr

ginny, lily luna, james sirius, and albus - beeyoungkah on instagram and tumblr

astoria and scorpius - upthehillart on instagram and tumblr

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regulus-books · 5 months

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Tragedy - 98 Words - @jegulus-microfic

i know most today are gonna be sad so a little jegulus dads fluff

"Papa?" Harry says, his little hand rubbing his eye.

"Yes, sweetheart?" Regulus tucks the blankets into his toddlers side, preventing any cold from getting in.

"Sing?" Regulus smiles and looks up at James who is cuddling into Harry's side.

"Sure, baby," Regulus thinks a little, then starts to softly sing the lullaby Sirius used to sing to him when he was little. Harry drifts off quickly, his pretty little eyes closing. "Sorry, Jamie."

"Don't be, it's a tragedy you stopped." Regulus grins and kisses the baby's forehead.

"Come on." Regulus says, standing up from Harry's little car bed.

#regulus books #jegulus #marauders #marauders era #james potter #regulus black #jegulus dads #jeggy dads #jeggy #james x regulus #regulus and james #sunseeker #starchaser #baby harry potter #regulus raises harry

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stormygrievances · 3 months

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@jegulus-microfic February 1st, shower, 253 words

“Harry, that’s it. You’re going in the shower, like it or not,” Regulus reprimands, scooping the crying child up from the floor and propping him on his waist.

He has the same struggle with this little demon every single day. No exceptions. It’s like Harry’s allergic to water, honestly. Their neighbors must think they’re torturing their child by the way he screams. It’s a miracle he hasn’t been reported to child services so far.

Harry puts up quite a fight for a toddler his size, tugging harshly on Regulus’ curls and pushing him away with all the strength his little body can muster. “Harry. Stop,” he scolds, again.

They hear the front door unlock, James striding into the living room whistling a little tune and calling out to them. “Where is the love of my life…” he sing-songs. “And my husband?”

Harry, ever the traitor, squeals with glee at the sound of his Dad’s voice. “Papa, Papa, put me down!”

Not in the mood for another screaming match, Regulus puts Harry down, who wobbles his way over to James, making grabby hands at him. Regulus’ heart melts at the picture, but then he remembers he’s still angry with their toddler. “Funny as always, Jamie. Want to know what your son did today?”

“Oh, so he’s my son now? I’ll keep that in mind when you want his midnight cuddles,” James teases, winking over at his husband.

Regulus sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. “He doesn’t want to go in the shower, again.”

#james potter #regulus black #jegulus #sunseeker #starchaser #harry potter #james x regulus #james loves regulus #baby harry potter #fluff #ao3 #fanfic #marauders #regulus being regulus #regulus #jegulus dads

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residentrookie · 9 months

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jegulus dads ‘i frew up 🧍’ microfic— 1313 words; sorry guys i was brain rotting too hard about this one (cw: mentions of throwing up)

in all his 27 years, regulus has never been a deep sleeper. so when the door to the bedroom creaks open at 3 in the morning, his eyes open with it. the room is still pitch black, and he wonders groggily if boots (their cat) pawed it open when a tiny, weak voice whimpers, “daddy?”

regulus is launching up in bed and turning towards the voice of his five year old son before thinking twice.

“what, baby? what is it?”

at his sudden movement, james shoots up in bed next to him. “—whatisit. haz?” he mumbles, flicking on a lamp and dousing the room in light.

there stands harry in his spiderman jams, hair an absolute bird’s nest and tears streaming from his big green eyes and down his sweet cheeks. regulus’ eyes water instinctively just looking at him. before having kids, regulus never knew what it was to empathize so automatically with someone else— but he felt harry’s emotions right along with him, the joy, the sorrow, and the pain too.

“i—“ harry starts, then sucks in a big stuttering breath, clearly trying to be a brave boy and not cry, “i-i threw u-up.”

at the admission he wails, like he’s just confessed to the most abhorrent sin and will now have to face the wrath of his two loving fathers, who are so light on punishments they sometimes worry harry will end up being the most spoiled brat alive. james and regulus share a quick look, what regulus would consider the “dad” look, before throwing back the covers and rising quickly.

surprisingly, they’ve planned for this. years ago. when they first started dating. james had asked regulus about this very scenario, and after minutes of regulus whining about never wanting children in the first place—so why does it even matter, james— he’d made his position clear.

“i don’t do vomit.” regulus told him firmly. “absolutely not.”

james had laughed. “fine by me. if you only knew how much of my friends vomit i’ve had to clean up over the years. i don’t even blink at it anymore.”

thus the responsibilities of this hypothetical situation were assigned. james was on vomit duty. regulus was on comfort duty.

“not sure i’ll be any good at that either,” regulus had said grudgingly, but james had just smiled knowingly, able to see a future that regulus couldn’t yet imagine.

james makes it to harry first and scoops him up promptly, letting him bury his face in his neck and sob. regulus comes up behind them and snuggles up to harry, kissing his small head and whispering reassurances.

“shhhh don’t cry, it’s okay, haz. does your tummy hurt?” james asks calmly, rocking them all back and forth soothingly.

regulus pulls back and watches harry nod. his cheek is rosy and hot when regulus puts his hand to it.

“come on, baby, let’s go take care of it okay?” regulus tells him, and james deposits their still-sniffling son into his husbands open arms.

“you know what time it is?” james asks, wiggling his brows. harry just sniffs and shakes his head. “time to be superdad,” james tells him, pointing at his faded superman t-shirt. then he gives an animated salute, puts one fist on his hip and the other high in the sky before jetting out of the room with some impressive ‘flying sounds’ that manage to make harry smile a little before he remembers that he’s actually very upset right now. regulus shakes his head at his wonderfully ridiculous spouse and starts towards the stairs, feeling harry’s hot tears gather in the crook of his neck.

after giving harry some medicine, they settle on the couch downstairs, harry in regulus lap and clinging to him. regulus rocks them for a few minutes, letting harry’s breaths slow as he calms down.

“papa?” harry sniffles suddenly, his voice so small.

“yes, sweetheart?” regulus asks, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“we need to have a funeral. like how we did for bobbi.”

regulus blinks. bobbi, harry’s goldfish, had died three days after james brought him home, leaving the two of them to explain the complicated matter of death to their three and a half year old. so harry had a vague idea of the concept and of funerals, though his only exposure has been the meager ceremony they’d patched together and held in their garden. sirius had given a speech and peter had cried.

“what? why?” regulus demands, scanning his son’s face. his bottom lip pokes out as his eyes fill with tears yet again.

“b-because i think i killed hippo,” he wails. “i-i threw up all over him— a-and ron said that throw up is like— like how supervillains spit out the acid and k-kill the good guys—“

regulus closes his eyes briefly, exhaling in relief. he makes a mental note to tell james to cool it on the superhero movies for a while— clearly it’s getting into harry’s head.

“no baby, hippo is fine. he just needs to go for a swim in the wash, and then he’ll come out as good as new.”

harry peels his head back from regulus’ chest, blinking up at home hopefully. “really?”

“really. i bet daddy has already put him in. shall we go check on him just to be sure?”

“yes, please,” harry says, politely. oddly, it makes regulus think of his mother, of how she had demanded her boys to be polite above all else, even in the face of abuse and neglect. james and regulus had done absolutely everything differently, and harry still turned out to be the sweetest boy on the planet. walburga can fucking suck it.

pushing aside the thoughts of his mother, regulus rises with harry still perched on his hip. they walk back upstairs, peeking their heads into the laundry room to find james, metaphorical sleeves rolled up as he hums to himself, rummaging through their linens. regulus truly married the only person in the world who can sing while cleaning up vomit at 3 in the morning.

james turns and smiles at them in the doorway. “my boys!” he says cheerfully, crossing the room to give harry a smooch on the head.

“he’s worried about hippo, darling,” regulus explains. “can you show him how he’s just gone for a dip in the wash?”

“who, hippo?” james asks. “oh he’s great. you know what he told me haz?” he leans forward as if confiding a secret, “he told me he’s been wanting a bubble bath for sooo long and he’s sooo happy he finally got the chance. he even said to tell you thank you!”

harry giggles. “no he didn’t. he doesn’t talk.”

james gasps. “well he certainly talks to me, harry. we’re the best of friends.”

“i thought papa was your best friend,” harry says and james’ face melts into the gentlest smile.

“that’s true, too. it’s a tie between hippo and papa.”

regulus rolls his eyes as harry laughs. they go over and stand in front of the washer. the top is clear, so harry can see all his stuffies (including hippo) swirl around in the sudsy water. after several moments of watching them spin, james nudges regulus, inclining his head towards harry.

regulus looks down to see their baby’s eyes closed, head heavy, cheek squished against his chest.

“his bed has fresh sheets,” james whispers but regulus isn’t quite ready to let him go. he looks up at james with a pleading face.

james, try as he might, has never excelled at being the hardass parent. so when regulus takes their son back into their bedroom, depositing him under the covers between the two of them, james just smiles and shakes his head. they climb into bed and turn towards harry, two parenthesis enclosing the small shape of their son, cradling him and keeping him safe.

regulus sleeps long and deep, one hand laced with his husband’s, the other resting on his son’s dark head.

#i scribbled this like a madman in my notes app so apologies for the lowercase #i just love everything about them #they would be SUCH GOOD PARENTS YOU DONT UNDERSTAND #jegulus dads #jegulus #jegulus microfic #james potter #regulus black #harry potter #oneshot

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starchasing-chocolate · 1 year

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Happy Christmas, Harry

A small, pristinely wrapped present resides in the trembling hands of Regulus Black. Though the gift was sure to be torn to shreds in just a few minutes, Regulus can't help but fiddle over the package, his nimble fingers smoothing over the edges repeatedly as if the motion could somehow make the wrapping appear even more perfect.

The faint click of a lock startles Regulus out of his thoughts, his attention now focused on the colorful Christmas wreath hanging on the door in front of him. A few quick clicks later, and the wreath is replaced by a giddy James Potter, leaning against the doorframe and beaming at Regulus like a child at Honeydukes.

“You came.” James giggles before pulling Regulus into a slow kiss. Regulus sighs into the familiarity, but as much as Regulus would love to remain on the doorstep the rest of the night, kissing James’ lips until they froze, he knew James was buzzing with energy for something else entirely.

With some unknown found strength, Regulus pulls away from James, one hand cradling his cheek and the other gripping onto the small present like a lifeline. James’ eyes trail down to the box and he smiles instantly. “For him?”

Regulus nods, his gaze flickering to the house. James nods to the door and raises an eyebrow, a silent question of ready to go in?

No. Regulus was not ready to go in.

He nods regardless.

James pushes the door open with a slight creak, stepping aside to allow Regulus to enter first. Tentatively, Regulus steps through the doorway, and is immediately flooded by a surging wave of warmth. He allows it to seep into his bones and wind its way through his veins, praying to some deity that it makes him appear kinder than he looks.

James closes the door behind them and presses a hand on the small of Regulus’ back, a calming gesture that reassures Regulus was free to move as he pleases.

He curses himself for appearing so obviously timid. This was not the first time Regulus had visited James’ home, in fact, he was over quite frequently. He had absolutely nothing to be afraid of. It was only James.

Well, only James and-

“Hello?”

The first thing Regulus notices about Harry Potter was how much he resembles his father. An untamable mess of hair, circular glasses that are slipping off his nose, and wide doe-like eyes that yearn for knowledge.

Young Harry stands near the kitchen, a half eaten gingerbread man poorly hidden behind his back, and frosting smeared along his cheek. He was a tiny little thing, James mentioned Harry was almost three years old, and yet Regulus could already sense his inclination for mischief.

Merlin, help him.

“Hi.” Regulus greets weakly, waving softly towards the boy.

Clearly curious about Regulus, Harry pads his way to the entrance of the house, his eyes squinting as he takes in Regulus’ figure.

“Who are you?” Harry asks bluntly, skeptical about Regulus’ presence and making it obviously so. Regulus breathes out a laugh.

“Harry!” James playfully scolds as he reaches down to pluck Harry from the ground and into his arms. “This is Regulus, remember? The very lovely man I’ve told you all about.”

Harry’s face twists in confusion, before brightening up with the ding of a memory coming to light. “Oh! Regoolus!”

“That’s right! Re-goo-lus.” James repeats, glancing at Regulus with a twinkle of amusement in his eyes and a contagious smile growing on his face.

Regulus feels his lips tug upward. “It’s very nice to meet you, Harry.” Harry flashes him a toothy grin, leaning his head against his father’s shoulder. Harry’s eyes dart curiously to the gift in his hands, and Regulus does his best to conceal the tremor in them, knowing there is no use in delaying the inevitable.

Feeling nausea crawl its way into his throat, Regulus lifts his hand slowly and presents Harry with the present. “This is for you.”

Harry’s eyes widen with childlike wonder and joy and the sight itself tugs at the core of Regulus’ chest. Harry looks up to James for approval, who nods encouragingly at his son. He takes the gift softly. “Thank you!” Harry grins, before trying to squirm out of James’ arms.

“Hold on, hold on.” James laughs, setting Harry safely on the ground. As soon as his fuzzy socks reach the floor, Harry is off, scurrying towards the living room.

Regulus is left frozen in place, utterly terrified and unsure of what to do next, looking to James desperately for help. James’ smile softens, as he reaches over and cups Regulus’ cheek, leaning in to press a firm kiss on his forehead. Regulus selfishly allows his eyes to flutter shut at the touch. “Hey.” James pulls back, cradling Regulus’ head with both hands. “You’re doing great.” He affirms.

James presses a short kiss to Regulus’ lips, places Regulus’ hand into his own, and gently pulls them both towards the living room.

Harry is seated in the center of a burgundy carpet, the largeness of it emphasizing the smallness of his body. The present lays unopened in front of him, and judging by his wiggling toes and tapping fingers, Harry is beyond eager to open it.

James falls back onto the sofa and drags down Regulus with him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders as he pulls him close to his side. Regulus is suddenly hyper aware of their position, not wanting Harry to be distraught or confused in any way at their intimacy. But Harry seems to have other priorities at the moment, his eyes never tearing away from the present in his lap.

“Can I please open it now?” Harry begs, eyes still glued to the box. “Pretty please?”

James sighs dramatically, biting back a smile. “Well, since Regulus was the one who gave it to you, I’d say it’s up to him to decide whether or not you can open it.” James turns to Regulus, resting his cheek on the couch. “What do you say, Re-goo-lus?”

Regulus playfully rolls his eyes, but unlike James, he’s unable to hide the smile growing on his face. He looks at Harry, who’s staring back at him with puppy dog eyes. “Go ahead, Harry.”

Harry squeaks in delight, tearing away the wrapping paper with such joy that Regulus can’t find it within himself to be upset in the slightest. Once the wrapping paper is gone, and a small wooden box is all that remains, Harry wastes no time as he removes the lid and reveals its contents.

A small golden snitch lies at the bottom, remaining dormant for all of two seconds before slowly flapping its wings and hovering in front of Harry.

“Snitch!” Harry gasps, his eyes blown wide open as his jaw drops in awe. The next thing Regulus knows, Harry is screeching with joy, clapping his small hands together as he hops in circles around the floating snitch.

“A snitch?” Regulus tears his eyes away from Harry to James, who’s beaming with practically the same amount of excitement as Harry. “You didn’t.” James gapes, watching as the golden snitch slowly flies in circles around the room, little Harry scrambling to catch it.

Regulus laughs, bashfully hiding his smile behind the sleeve of his sweater. “I did.”

James grins devilishly as he pulls Regulus closer by the neckline of his sweater, kissing him hungrily as if buying a present for his son was the most attractive thing James has ever seen.

A piercing shriek breaks the two apart, both Regulus and James springing up in their seats to locate Harry, though it takes less than a second to do so. The boy is only a few feet away, jumping with unabashed glee on the adjacent couch. “I got it!” Harry squeals, bouncing on the cushion. “I got the snitch!”

Sure enough, in the pudgy fingers of little Harry Potter, is the golden snitch Regulus had gifted him.

“Atta boy, Harry!” James cheers, reaching out to scoop Harry into his arms. He curls Harry to his chest, presses a sloppy kiss to his cheek, and sits down beside Regulus once again. “I think,” James turns Harry around in his lap, “that you’re going to be a fine seeker, Haz.”

“Fine?” Regulus chuckles. “Don’t be modest, James. I can already tell he’s going to be amazing.”

“Amazing!” Harry repeats while shimmying off of James’ lap. He settles in between the space between them on the sofa, curling his knees to his chest and leaning against Regulus’ side. “Thank you, Regoolus!”

Regulus takes a shaky breath, trying desperately to blink the sudden income of burning tears out of his eyes. He looks over at James, whose face is full of nothing but adoration and pride, though Regulus can see tears threatening to spill down his cheeks as well.

Regulus wipes his eyes quickly, trying to be discreet, and turns to give his full attention back to Harry. Regulus finds the boy already looking up at him with kind eyes, brighter than the star Regulus is named after. They’re an undoubtable shade of green, full of wonder, innocence, and warmth. Just like his father’s.

As he looks at Harry, and as he feels the comforting presence of the man he loves beside him, in a house warm enough to melt even the coldest of souls, Regulus wonders how on earth he got so lucky.

Regulus runs a hand through Harry’s fluffy hair and smiles.

“Happy Christmas, Harry.”

#jegulus #jegulus dads #regulus black #james potter #marauders #starchaser #harry potter #james x regulus #cute #Christmas #yuh #I know I’m three days late #but idc #this is really long

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sommerregenjuniluft · 3 months

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@jegulus-microfic january 30 - uneven - 983words - cw: nsfw!, spanking, degradation

aka when a haircut gone wrong turns into bending ur husband over the kitchen counter and ****** his ***** until ******* and he ******** *** ***

“It’s uneven.”

“No, it’s not!”

“It’s uneven, James.”

“You– she’s just sitting improperly, her head bent at an angle,” his fiancée replies, in a there you have it way.

Regulus levels him with a flat look, “You’ve cut our daughter bangs and they’re uneven.”

“The hair kept falling into her eyes! It was bothering her,” James’ tone is defensive.

Regulus stares down at the picture on James’ phone, regarding the line of Harrie’s bangs as they fall crookedly over her small forehead, grin as wide and toothy as always, pigtails equally askew. She’s running around in kindergarten like that right now none the wiser.

When he looks up to raise an eyebrow at James this one snatches up his phone and pockets it with a huff, grumbling under his breath.

Behind them the electric kettle clicks, signaling that the water is boiled, so Regulus turns his back to face the shelves in search of a mug and tea bag.

“As if you would’ve done any better.”

An incredulous scoff rips from the back of Regulus’ throat.

It sounds like James is gnashing his teeth when he growls, “What?”

Regulus casually goes about preparing his tea. “Oh, miles, baby.”

James sounds closer when he speaks next, making Regulus shiver, “You’re a brat.”

“Your ego is too big,” Regulus spits back.

“Yeah, well, something’s gotta match the cock.”

There’s a second of still silence where they’re both not moving, disbelieving over if James just actually said that out loud.

Then Regulus head whips around and he fixes the other with a narrow glare. “Excuse me?”

He can see the moment something flips inside James and he decides, wether that be reasoned or not, to just fucking roll with it. “You heard me.”

Regulus feels his face pull into a sneer, “Yes and I’d actually rather impale my eardrums with a toothpick before it happens again.”

Now it’s James’ turn to scoff before he steps closer, “Yeah, like you didn’t moan about it last weekend on date night.”

James cages Regulus against the counter and all he can do is turn his back to him again. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Warmth settles over Regulus’ back as James crowds his space, breath hot over the shell of his ear. “Fuck, Jamie,” he whines in imitation of Regulus, “So big, feels so good, ah- yes, yes! Please, harder, ’m gonna—”

Regulus knuckles are turning white against the counter. He’s not sure he’s still breathing.

James nuzzles Regulus’ curls with his nose, hips grazing the swell of his ass, “Begging for it like a slut.”

Regulus gasps sharply, “Merde– shut up.”

Soft lips come down on his neck, spit slick, and Regulus is trembling.

“I love when you’re good for me like that, Reg,” James murmurs breathily, “Don’t you wanna be good for me?”

He punctuates the questions by pressing his crotch directly into Regulus’ ass, the grey sweatpants doing nothing to hide the thick line of him.

A moan tumbles out of him involuntarily.

James gives a pleased hum before he sucks on that same spot on Regulus’ neck, “That’s it, baby.”

Mindlessly, Regulus pushes back, arousal shooting through him when James groans softly.

“C’mon, love, I know just how sweet you can be for me.”

It’s a wonder Regulus manages to shake his head.

“Yeah, you are,” James insists, “Doesn’t always have to be only once I fuck you stupid on my fat cock.”

Regulus grits his teeth, “You’re impossible.”

James sighs displeased, a mournful little thing that makes Regulus’ head dizzy, “Fine, the hard way then.”

In one swift movement he pulls Regulus back by the hips, yanks down his own black sweats and spanks him right across one ass cheek.

Regulus is helpless to do anything but cry out in pleasure, the sting seeping through the flesh and concentrating between his legs, making his cock twitch where it bobs heavy in the air.

“Try again,” James says, voice dangerously neutral and massaging his throbbing cheek.

Regulus bites down on his tongue, then presses out, “You’d be lucky to be considered average.”

A chuckle and then another swing, sharper than the first and the sound of it reverberating off their kitchen tiles.

Regulus whimpers a strangled noise which turns into a downright pitiful whine when James roughly spits on his exposed hole.

“Oh, you like that, huh, baby?” James taunts, hooking a thumb into his rim, breaching for a moment just to retreat again.

Traitorously, his hips push back on the finger.

“Aren’t you greedy?” James comments, “I want you to use your words though.”

“James.”

His husband tzks.

Regulus has to squeeze his eyes shut tightly, chin crinkling, lip wobbling, “Please.”

“Please what?”

Another hit when Regulus doesn’t give an answer fast enough, this on right on the crease of his thigh. More spitting, landing carelessly on the meat of his ass and slowly trickling between his cheeks.

It takes a moment for Regulus to realize the sound in the kitchen is his own whine. “More, please.”

James hums above him, leaning over him to kiss at his neck. “Just a little bit more specific, baby. I know you can do it.” He punctuates the demand by teasingly swiping two fingers through the spit and prodding at his entrance but not slipping them in.

Regulus grits out a harsh pant, thighs starting to tremble. His ass stings like a bitch and his cock is throbbing, hard and neglected and all he can think about is that he wants James’ teeth in the nape of his neck. The overwhelming desire to be good and pliant as he gets utterly annihilated.

“Breed me, Jamie.”

His husband curses, voice strangled, and then he proceeds to fuck him so hard Regulus doesn’t know up from down anymore.

They have to call Effie and Monty to pick Harrie up from kindergarten one and a half hours later.

#this started out as mild bickering and it jsut went downhill SO fast.#idk even what this is tbh #*sigh*#i dont rly like the ending #anywayz #jegulus #jegulus microfic #jegulus dads #james potter #regulus black #starchaser #sunseeker #lune’s tiny fic

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prongs-slut · 2 years

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@prongs-slut H.A

*After James said no to buying a bigger broomstick to a 4 years old Harry*

James : *horrified* Harry darling, why did you draw a dead body next to you and your papa ?

Regulus : *trying not to laugh* He sure is from the Black family.

@prongs-slut H.A

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bythehearts · 2 years

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plot bunny of the day…

Jegulus breaks up after Reg gets the mark, but ends up having sex one time that James is at Hogwarts for Order stuff at the end of Regulus’ last year at Hogwarts, which leaves Reg pregnant (yes, Reg is trans in this). Regulus then proceeds to tell absolutely no one about this kid, not sure even Barty or Pandora and just tells everyone he has to go to Paris for some potion training for a year (which he actually does) and disappears from public life for a year.

When he comes back, he buys an apartment for himself and his son (let’s call him Leo, I’ll come up with something better later) where no one is ever allowed except for Kreacher and Leo’s tutors. Now, this kid isn’t secluded from public life, he has a very normal life actually, just he’s never seen in public with Regulus. Why? Well, initially it was just because he didn’t want his family to know about how the kid came to be, but he also wasn’t willing to abandon the last gift James ever gave to him, as he’ll later refer to his son.

Then, however, the fact that our Regulus is still planning Voldemort’s downfall with Pandora also came into the picture, so he’s afraid that if they get discovered little Leo might be in danger. After that the story goes pretty much as we know it, except Reg doesn’t die in the cave since he tells Pandora that he’s going because this time he’s not taking chances, he has to go back to Leo. He also doesn’t leave a note for obvious reasons.

However, he knows that he’s still very much in danger of one day never coming home to Leo, so as soon as Leo turns 5-years-old he gives him a letter and a jar of chocolates that he’ll refill periodically, then he tells him to eat one and only one (he charms the jar) every day and that if the chocolates ever run out he has to take the letter and find James Potter.

A few days after Leo Black’s 8th birthday, the chocolates run out, and an 8-year-old shows up on James’ doorstep with a letter from a long lost lover that goes:

James, my dear angel,

if you’re reading this, I’m probably dead or worse. I will never be able to thank you for everything you have given me, and I’m so incredibly sorry to have to place this on you, but I have one last miracle to ask you…

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