#microfic marching along!!!!!!!!

[sugarsnappeases]

microfic - lilyritaminerva (i can explain!!) | 1.5k words | college students (lily & rita) competing for professor minerva’s attention, so age gap and kinda suggestive content | part 2

“Professor, would you be able to help me with something?” Rita glanced behind her as she spoke, feeling a thrill run through her at the sight of Lily’s scowl, just three steps behind her but they were three steps too many. Rita had won this round.

She flashed Lily a smile, her sharp, mean one, before looking back at Professor McGonagall who was leaning against her desk, eyes shifting between Lily and Rita, a glimmer of something in them that was gone before Rita could even begin to decipher it.

“That rather depends on what that something is, Miss Skeeter” Professor McGonagall replied, those eyes settling on her, solid and exhilarating and making Rita’s heart race in the way that having her full attention always did.

The professor was terrifying, and brilliant, and Rita wanted to sit at her feet like a dog, she would wear a leash if the professor wanted, she would do anything if the professor wanted, as long as it meant that her attention was on Rita, and not on Lily.

Lily didn’t deserve it anywhere near as much as Rita did. She wished she could say that Lily was an awful student, or that she had never had a single interesting thought, or that she didn’t deserve to be at the university, let alone anywhere near Professor McGonagall, but she had spent enough time eavesdropping on conversations that Lily had and hacking into the university mainframe to read her essays to know that wouldn’t be true.

Lily was unfortunately intelligent, and her essays were horribly well-thought out, and she had more than earned her place there, but Rita was better, she knew she was better, and she deserved the weight of Professor McGonagall eyes on her, she deserved her approval and her attention and she deserved to be allowed to sit on the professor’s lap and slide her hands under that blazer.

Rita forcefully pulled her thoughts back to the matter at hand and opened her mouth to explain what she wanted help with, but Professor McGonagall spoke again before she could,

“Oh - Miss Evans, if you could wait just a moment, there’s a matter I’d like to discuss with you”

Rita turned again, Lily had a hand on the door to the classroom and it was her turn to flash a smile, spiteful and victorious and making Rita want to slap her.

The door shut and they were the only three people left in the room, Lily taking a few steps closer to the front desk, smugness in every line of her body as she answered, “Of course, Professor”

It was making Rita feel violent. She fantasised sometimes, about attacking Lily, just tackling her right there in the classroom, under the watchful eyes of Professor McGonagall.

Maybe she would smile approvingly at Rita as she pulled at Lily’s hair, as she slapped the smug smile off Lily’s face, as she straddled Lily on the floor, ripping at one of those smart blouses that Lily liked to wear, ruining how neat and put-together she always looked, as she bruised Lily’s pale, delicate skin, as she beat Lily once and for all.

Maybe Professor McGonagall would give Rita a prize for her victory, maybe the prize would involve being pushed up against the desk, the professor’s firm hands on her hips, or maybe one around her neck, pressing her back into the hard wood of the desk, the shiny metal nameplate digging into her spine, and the other hand sliding up her thigh, under the short, short skirts she always wore to these classes, pushing her knickers to one side and -

“Miss Skeeter?” Professor McGonagall was asking and Rita felt like she might die. She blinked out of the haze of her thoughts and glared over at Lily, who was chuckling under her breath.

Lily just raised an eyebrow and Rita rolled her eyes, turning back to face the professor properly. Professor McGonagall was still leaning against the front of her desk, fingers drumming against it, brows slightly furrowed, impatient.

“Sorry, Professor,” Rita was sure that she was blushing, “I just got lost in my thoughts a little”

She didn’t miss the way that Professor McGonagall smirked, just a little, the smallest little twitch of her cheek, and it only made her blush more, she was sure that the professor could tell exactly what direction her thoughts had been heading.

“Well, get on with it then,” she demanded, “What’s this thing you need help with?”

And suddenly, Rita felt a little daring, a little bold, a little shameless. Like a switch flipping, all thoughts of the question she had about her essay retreating as she was overtaken by something that was probably more than a little dangerous.

She took a step closer to the desk, pushing her shoulders back a bit and tilting her head to one side, “I’ve got this problem, you see, it’s rather personal,”

Professor McGonagall straightened slightly, then narrowed her eyes, and Rita didn’t know whether it was because of her tone of voice or the way she was batting her eyelashes or the way that she had taken yet another step closer but she felt something curl with satisfaction in her stomach at the sight of the movement.

It was a cliché probably but Rita was leaning into it as she stepped forward again, only a few paces away from the desk now, continuing in a low voice, “And with all the time I spend doing work for your classes…”

The professor raised an eyebrow then, which was probably fair enough, because although a lot of her time did go towards the actual work, the vast majority of it was spent coming up with ways to get Professor McGonagall’s attention, or obsessively tracking whatever Lily was doing to make sure she was still winning. Speaking of, Rita glanced briefly over to where Lily had walked further back into the room, hands clenched tight around the strap of her satchel, watching the scene in front of her like she was studying it.

“… I haven’t been able to find anyone to help me with it,” Rita finished, focussing back on the professor in front of her, who’s eyes flicked quickly up and down Rita’s body before meeting hers again, heavy and exhilarating.

Rita felt like she was diving headfirst into a volcano and she really quite desperately wanted to burn so she took the last few steps forward, coming to a stop directly in front of Professor McGonagall, close enough that if the professor spread her legs just a little, Rita could settle quite nicely in between them.

She clasped her hands behind her back to stop herself from reaching out and spoke again, slow and suggestive, “And I thought, being as it’s your work that’s stopping me from finding anyone, that maybe you could help me?”

Professor McGonagall smirked again, just a little, and then, as if she was reading her mind, lifted her hands from the desk and placed them on Rita’s hips instead, spreading her legs and pulling Rita into the space between them, nestled there like it was where she belonged. Rita was sure she was bright red, she hadn’t been sure this would work at all but victory was singing through her veins as she heard the way that Lily had gasped at the professor’s actions.

“I’ve just been so tense lately,” Rita went on, pressing her thighs together as the hands at her hips squeezed slightly, “And I really think you might be able to help me relax… Minerva”

The professor smirked, moving her hands to rest on Rita’s arse, pulling her even closer, leaning in so that Rita could feel her breath on her ear,

“Oh Rita,” Professor McGonagall breathed, making Rita both shiver and feel like she was on fire, unclasping her hands and bringing them up to rest on the professor’s chest, “I think I know just the thing,”

“Yeah?” Rita asked, biting at her lip to stop the word from turning into a moan.

“Oh yes,” the professor continued, pulling back a little to look her in the eye, that solid, exhilarating gaze, something glimmering in it that Rita couldn’t quite decipher. Then, Professor McGonagall was moving her hands, back up to Rita’s hips and pushing her round to one side, “Why don’t you ask Miss Evans to help you?”

Rita’s mouth fell open, looking at Lily who was standing just a few paces away and looking right back, face red and a hand over her mouth, eyes wide and slightly hazy just like Rita expected her own were. She glanced back at Professor McGonagall, feeling both a little betrayed and a lot turned on, as the professor dropped her hands from Rita’s hips and placed them back on the desk behind her again.

She just chuckled at whatever was probably written all over Rita’s face, “I think she might be having a similar problem, I’m sure you could… solve it together.”

Then, Professor McGonagall smiled, her own victorious smile, sharp and amused, “You two are my best students after all.”

[villain-crown]

cheat | @jegulus-microfic | words: 520

critical care, part 1 | (part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9)

a Jegulus nurse!AU

“Potter, I’ve got shit news for you.”

James snorted, finishing the last few letters of a name on the large dry erase board that announced the day shift nurses’ assignments on the medical-surgical intensive care unit. Their ward’s nickname, coined by its wealthy donor, was written at the top in half-erased red letters: Go Gryffindor! “No thanks, Marlene, I’ve got enough shit news already.”

“Peter’s cheating on us. He’s been floated to take patients in the recovery room. They took on three extra cases this morning.”

Jerking his head around, he stared at her.

No.

Peter could not do this to him. James had twenty-two sick as shit patients tripping over themselves to dive into body bags and just enough nurses to stop them from doing so. The acuity of their unit was through the roof. He would not be tested today.

“Pete wouldn't do that.” James shoved his hand into his scrubs to fish his phone out. On the home screen was the preview of an apologetic text from ✨🐀Wormtail🐀✨, reporting his marching orders to the post-anesthesia care unit. “Wow. I thought he loved me. What am I supposed to do? We’re about to start the bloody shift!”

“Well don’t worry boss, because I have slightly less shit news. They’ve sent us a nurse to replace him.” She paused. “From Slytherin.”

“I thought you said less shit news,” James grumbled, using the side of his hand to rub Peter’s name from the board. Slytherin, with its name derived from the benefactor who had funded its building, was the cardiovascular intensive care unit two floors below them. Their nurses were notoriously nightmares to get along with. “The last time they floated someone from there to here it was Snape, remember?”

“Oh yeah!” Marlene snapped her fingers. “Didn’t Sirius almost trick him into drinking nitroglycerin? It’s a good thing you stopped him. He could have actually died.”

“Yeah. Anyway, who are they sending us?”

Marlene consulted her phone. “It’s going to be… Oh! Regulus Black!”

“Black?” James repeated distractedly, writing it down.

“It’s Sirius’s little brother. Have you met him?”

“No.” James capped his marker and stepped back. “Have you?”

“Once.” She paused, then qualified that. “Sort of. I got to watch Sirius threaten one of the doctors for flirting with him. Does that count?”

That got his attention. “What? Why? Sirius has slept with half the staff in this hospital!”

“Yeah, but he’d put Regulus in a monastery if he could. No dating allowed for Baby Black.” Marlene handed over the charge nurse phone. “It’s too bad. Dorcas says Regulus is… sweet.”

James smirked. “Dorcas says, huh? I guess Pete’s not the only one cheating on us Gryffindors by consorting with the enemy units.”

“Fuck off, Potter. And I’ll give you a bit of free advice. When Regulus comes up here, you’d best try very hard not to stare. Sirius hates when people do that.”

James’s expression turned serious. “I won’t. Is there something physically… did something happen to him?”

Oddly, Marlene just smirked. “No, nothing like that. But if you know what’s good for you, don’t let Sirius catch you looking.”

[estrellami-1]

Steddie Microfic

March prompt: pin

Word count: 388

No warnings apply

Rated G

@steddiemicrofic

Steve’s never liked the phrase quiet enough you could hear a pin drop. Maybe it stems from being alone in that big old house for years on end, but he doesn’t exactly like the quiet.

And it’s never actually been that quiet anyways. In the summer there’s cicadas, in the winter there’s the barren tree branches rubbing against each other.

His friends, too, are rarely quiet. Robin, first and foremost, rambles like there’s no tomorrow. He thinks it’s one of her most endearing qualities. She calls him biased for it.

Dustin is much the same way. There’s rarely a moment he’s not talking, and in those rare instances, he’s usually making noise some other way, since Steve privately thinks he’s allergic to sitting still.

While Steve and Mike don’t usually find much in common to talk about, there are some times they’ll find themselves alone in the car as Steve ferries everyone. He usually requests for the music to be turned up, but there are some times he doesn’t, and he’ll find other ways to make sound. He’s got a certain fascination with all things Eddie, and he’s picked up the same peculiarity to drum on everything within reach.

Steve and Lucas will usually turn on a basketball game, or find their way into a conversation revolving around basketball, but there are times Lucas asks for relationship advice, and Steve does his best.

Will is quiet in general, but Steve asks him about art, and with a shy smile, Will will talk until he can’t anymore.

El is quiet, too, but Steve has learned what questions to ask to get her talking, and she’s just as animated as anyone else in their ragtag group.

Max is a hurricane, loud and brash and unapologetic, and Steve loves it.

Then there’s Eddie. Big, bright, bold, beautiful, loud Eddie. Always drumming a rhythm on something—the dash of the car, his leg, Steve’s leg—or talking, or singing along to the radio.

Even in his sleep he’s not silent. Nights like tonight, when they’re together, are Steve’s favorite. He gets to hear the little snuffles and snores, gets to kiss him awake and hear his little groan. He likes noise just fine, but he likes this little bit of quiet with Eddie more. Because it’s not just quiet; it’s peace, and it’s perfect.

[kay-elle-cee]

@jilymicrofics March Prompt 4: Despondent || 447 words || Read on Ao3 MICROFIC MASTERLIST

James doesn’t get mad. Not like Lily.

But right now, his vision blurs and his fists clench and he feels rage flowing through his veins like he’s seldom ever felt before.

MAGIC LINEAGE PROTECTION ACT ADVANCES TO WIZENGAMOT FOR VOTE, UNFIT MARRIAGE NULLIFICATION AMENDMENT ADDED.

The headline is splashed on the front page of The Daily Prophet above a black-and-white photo depicting serenely smug members of the Old Guard of wizardry. Though James’ wand is on the counter across the little kitchen, the glass next to him on the table shatters, pumpkin juice pooling amongst the shards.

“James?”

Lily’s worried voice floats through from the other room, her hasty, light footsteps announcing her presence, a look of concern in her face as her eyes take in the scene before her.

James can’t speak. He can’t speak, he can’t think, all her can do is feel—the panic, the anger, the revulsion for these men and their shriveled selves.

Delicate hands come to rest on his shoulders as she follows his gaze to the discarded paper. Her voice comes out quietly.

“Oh.”

His left hand comes up to rest atop hers, rough fingers tracing along the cool metal of her wedding band.

“I thought they were killing that bill,” she breathes, despondent.

The exhaustion in his wife’s voice helps him find his own—gravely and tight. “Pushed it through with a quorum overnight.”

“It…it wouldn’t change anything, you know.”

His hand tightens around hers. “Like hell it wouldn’t, Lily. What’s the point of all of this”—he gestures haplessly to the room around him—“if I can’t give you any of the privileges that come with my name? The money in my family’s vault?”

“I happen to love you with or without the money, contrary to some of the nastier rumors,” she replies coolly.

He runs a hand over his face. “Of course you do, Lily I know that I—"

“Am spiraling,” she nods. “You don’t think I’ve been keeping up with this? You don’t think I’ve thought of this—us—from every possible angle?” Her hands slide up from shoulders to neck until they’re cradling his head, Lily firmly pressing her lips into the curls between them. “I love you, you git. And no law will change that, alright? They can nullify whatever the hell they want but they can’t force us apart. They can’t tell us our love doesn’t exist.”

James spins around in his chair and catches her eyes, jaw tight.

“But what if I die? What if, next Order mission, I just—"

She cuts him off with a shake of her head, green eyes glinting with a defiant spark. “Then you better live, Potter. That’s all there is to it.”

[randommmthoughts]

Pre-wolfstar microfic

The first freshman Gryffindor who tried to climb the stairs to the girls dorms was of course James Potter. The older students had watched with a grin how the boy tried to follow Lily up the stairs, only for the thing to turn into a slide.

Remus had not been there at the time, he had heard about it from Sirius a thousand times, but somehow did not really register it. So when Mary had been whining about having to stand up to get her sweater during their revision, he had gotten it for her from her dorm.

When he came back, Mary, Marlene and Lily looked at him as if they had seen a ghost. “How did you-“ began Lily, while Marlene started with “I thought only girls-“. Remus’ brain worked as fast as they could. “Must be a flaw in the system,” he shrugged. Not his best lie, he had to admit. The girls couldn’t find another explanation, so his secret was safe, for now.

Remus avoided the girls’ staircase after that, hoping the the girls would forget it. It wasn’t until the spring of his second year that he was face to face with it again. “Go as far up the stairs to the girls’ dorm as you can”, had been Peters dare. A tame one, in normal circumstances. It was past midnight and the only ones present in the common room were the marauders.

So Remus climbed the stairs, his hip aching from his last transition. He heard the other boys gasp when he was past the fifth step. He walked all the way up, and down again. Before anyone could say something, he reasoned it must be because he was a werewolf. Disturbance of the magic that turned the stairs to a slide when a boy tried to climb them. James and Peter nodded along, but Sirius looked at him with a thoughtful expression. Sirius had been the one to prick through his lies about being a werewolf not that long ago. It wouldn’t be long until he would get suspicious of Remus’ insistence on changing alone, or something else.

In the end, Sirius didn’t need to puzzle it together. Because one night, a little over a month later, Remus had been changing clothes in the dorms. James was at quidditch practice and Sirius and Peter were watching. Remus had taken the time to shower in peace for the first time in weeks.

But just when he had started to get dressed, Sirius marched in. Remus froze, Sirius froze. Five whole seconds go by in which they looked each other in the eyes. Then, Remus woke up and turned around, speeding to pull his underwear up. He heard Sirius walk to his bed and start to rummage through his stuff.

“I won’t tell them if you don’t want me to.” Remus turned around and was surprised by Sirius sympathetic expression. “Just know they won’t care. We don’t care that you are a werewolf and we don’t care you were born in the wrong body. We love you as you are.” Remus just stared at him. Why wasn’t Sirius more surprised?

“Funny, you know.” Sirius had started pulling shit out of his closet. “We first thought you were trans, but dismissed it after you turned up with that scar on your arm. We didn’t know much about menstruation, but we knew you don’t get cut from it.” Remus was still just staring.

“Have you seen my brown sweater, Moony? It’s bloody freezing out there.” Remus pointed to his own bed where the jumper, his jumper, was folded neatly. Sirius grinned. “Thanks Moons!” He pulled the clothing from the bed. It was obviously not his, being too long on his arms and reaching his thighs, but Sirius didn’t seem to care. “See you!” he yelled, grinning.

“Yeah,” Remus muttered, flabbergasted. At the end of the staircase, he heard a loud bonk. The echo of Sirius’ “Bloody homophobic staircase” flew up to their dorm. Remus couldn’t help but snort.

[lulublack90]

Prompt 20 - Emotional

@jegulus-microfic March 20 Word count 901

Previous part First part

The second he entered the house, he knew.

“Salazar’s balls!” He muttered under his breath. Remus turned his face to glance at him while still watching the hallway ahead for whatever had upset Regulus. “Be wary of what you say, Lupin. In fact, stay silent.” Remus looked at him questionably but kept his mouth shut. “My parents are here.”

“Regulus!” Orion Black appeared from the kitchen. “We wondered where you had gotten to.” Orion had a huge smile plastered on his face as he strode across the hall and embraced a horrified Regulus. 

“Good—Good evening, Father. I thought Mother was going to send word when you decided to return home.” Orion pulled away but left his large hands on Regulus’s shoulders, a smile still adorning his face. 

“Your mother had some business to take care of in London, so I thought I’d accompany her and see my loving son.” Regulus had to work extremely hard to keep the perplexed look off his face. His father had never been this friendly to him before. His father had always been cold and distant with him, only interacting with his sons if he was forced to by his wife. 

Remus hadn’t moved a muscle since the Black patriarch had appeared, but he still caught Orion’s attention. “And who is this? I don’t think I’ve met your little friend. Introduce us Regulus.” Remus tensed. Regulus looked at him. He would have laughed at the way Orion had called Remus little when the young man towered over the elder Lord Black if the situation hadn’t been so odd. 

“An acquaintance from Hogwarts, Father. Remus Lupin.” Orion narrowed his eyes once Regulus had spoken his name.

“Hmmm,” Orion hummed as he took in Remus’s appearance. “You’re the young werewolf who is in a relationship with my eldest son.” Remus swallowed nervously as Regulus tried to get his father’s attention away from Remus. “Not now, Regulus.” Orion waved him away. “Now, tell me, Remus, how is Sirius? I hope you are treating him well, or else you’ll have me to answer to.” He chuckled as he slapped a hand to Remus’s back. 

Remus turned his head wide-eyed, staring at Regulus. 

“Papa, are you feeling alright?” Regulus asked, looking warily at his father. 

“Of course, why do you ask?” Orion said pleasantly, Turning away from Remus.

“You’re being friendly.” Orion’s face fell. Regulus suddenly felt very guilty. “Sorry, Papa. I didn’t mean it to come out like that.”

“No, no, it’s understandable. Why don’t you and Remus run along, and I’ll call you when dinner is ready.” The smile was back on his face. Regulus looked worriedly at his father before he decided he needed to ensure he didn’t mention what had just been said to Walburga. 

“Papa, you’re not going to tell Maman about what you just said about Remus?” He prayed he hadn’t just made a mistake. 

“So he is a spy then?” Both boys paled. “Don’t worry, don’t worry. Your secrets are safe with me.” He cleared his throat. “Maybe don’t mention how you know each other. You know how she reacts when you’re brother is mentioned.” 

The front door burst open as the last words left Orion’s mouth, and Walburga Black stood framed in the doorway. 

“Ah, a welcoming party, how kind.” Her sharp voice was free of any emotional tones. “Regulus, you are well, I presume?” Regulus shook the shock from himself, letting his mask fall back over his features.

“Yes, Maman. May I take your bag?” She thrust her dragon hide travel bag into his hands as she unclasped her cloak and threw it towards the wall, where a narrow cupboard opened and caught it before blending back into the wall again. 

“You appear to have a house guest, Regulus.” She sneered in Remus’s direction.

“Yes, I apologise, Maman. The Dark Lord paired us together for an assignment, and it was easier to keep him and less pungent than having to keep retrieving him from the wolf pack.” Her face turned up even more in disgust. 

“You brought a werewolf into our ancestral home?” She asked, her nostrils flaring. 

“I assure you, Maman, he is housebroken.” Her sneer turned to a smirk. 

“Well, as the Dark Lord has seen fit to pair you, I suppose I can allow it for a time.” Her eyes narrowed again. “Keep a close eye on the wolf. Do not let him wander where he pleases.” She left them in the hallway as she disappeared upstairs to her office. 

Orion smiled at them and patted them both on the shoulder before returning to the kitchen. 

“Well, that was pleasant,” Remus smirked down at Regulus. 

“Oh, shut up, wolf! Come on, let’s go warn the others.” 

They didn’t have long to let James know what had happened before they were called down to dinner. 

“I see you’re ‘friend’ hasn’t dressed for dinner,” Walburga noted as they sat, the three Blacks in their formal wear. Remus, to Regulus’s amusement, had rejected the lending of the dress robes Regulus had offered and didn’t blink at Walburga’s comments. 

The dinner went well. Orion was back to his silent self and barely spared a glance at Regulus. It wasn’t until she excused herself at the end of the meal that Orion opened up again. He cast a silencing charm on the dining room door. 

“So, you’re trying to kill the Dark Lord?”      

Next part

[ch0k3herwithaseaview]

@jegulus-microfic | march 15 use | words: 456

tw: the 1975, sex is mentioned (if you blik you’ll miss it, literally)

seeing this motherfucking drug addict live is now my whole personality but it’ll pass i promise; for now enjoy:3

James heard his boyfriend's concert (loud screams that were supposed to be singing) outside the door of their apartment building. Regulus must have forgotten to close the window because the sounds coming from their apartment were quite clear. James still couldn’t comprehend that none of the neighbours had filed a complaint with the building owner or the police yet. Although he wasn’t a fan of Reg’s concerts, he was always glad to see him as happy as he was while giving them.

When he entered the flat, the song changed from Taylor’s Karma to that one song Regulus was playing on repeat in his Tumblr boy era. With the change of repertoire came a screeching sound of excitement, like when your favourite artist stars playing your favourite song live.

James walked into their living room, where the performance was taking place, and leaned against the doorframe, watching Regulus shout words into a hairbrush, pretending it was a microphone. He was thrashing around the room like a feral animal, alternately falling to his knees and lying on the floor in much the same way he had been lying in their bed last night when James made his way down Regulus’ body.

When the younger man finally noticed him, he didn’t even flinch; he just started singing to James.

“And he said, "Use your hands and my spare time/We've got one thing in common, it's this tongue of  mine"" Regulus was smirking at him while singing those words. James just grinned and shook his head at his boyfriend’s antics. And the lyrics change? Absolutely genius if you asked him (yes, that’s sarcasm; James was capable of that).

“Come on, sing with me!” Regulus shouted to him in the transition between verses, giving him the remote control (second microphone). “There's only minutes before I drop you off,” he continued singing.

James looked at the remote and back at his man. He hesitantly took it and pressed a button that made the lyrics appear on the screen. He didn't really feel it at first, but when Reg looked at him with eyes sparkling with excitement and a bright smile reserved just for him, he gave in. He started getting into the song, banding his knees and throwing back his head.

When it ended and Satellite came on, he threw the remote at the couch, grabbed Regulus’ wrist, and pulled him into his arms. They sang along and danced the routine they had made before Harry's concert, swaying their hips to the melody, spinning each other, and jumping like happy little kids.

So, yes, James might not be the biggest fan of Reg’s singing, but he loves the way it almost always turns into them dancing like nothing else matters.

[julesdaydreams]

@jegulus-microfic I march 2: pool I word count: 1098

Playing pool with Regulus had to be James’ dumbest idea yet. And that’s saying something, coming from someone who usually prides himself on the dumb decisions he’s made in his life.

Regulus was currently bend over the pool table, back arched sinfully, giving James a perfect view of that ass that James has had very vivid dreams about for the past few weeks, always leaving him hot and painfully hard the moment he woke up.

This was nothing like his dreams though. It was so, so much worse.

Regulus wiggled a bit, standing on his tip-toes and leaning just that much further in order to reach the ball he had set his eyes on, shirt bunching up a bit to reveal creamy skin that James desperately wanted to bite.

Playing pool with Regulus had been a terrible, terrible idea.

The other boy made a huffing sound, still not quite reaching far enough and James tried to hide his laugh at Regulus’ struggling.

Apparently he didn’t hide it well enough, curly black hair bouncing slightly as Regulus whipped his head around to give James a look that would’ve made a lesser man drop dead.

“Something funny, Potter? Please, do share with the class the reasoning behind your amusement. And you better be good at lying because if I hear anything along the lines of “too short”, I’m going to behead you and we’ll see how you’d like the short jokes.” His voice was laced with venom, mouth curling dangerously and James was ready to drop to his knees for the man, the pool stick he was leaning on being the only reason he didn’t.

“You know you could just, walk around the table, right? Play from the other side?”, James proposed, completely ignoring Regulus’ (hopefully) empty threats, still chuckling lightly.

Regulus’ eyes narrowed.

“First of all, I would have to play with my non-dominant hand from the other side, which I won’t risk doing because I’m not losing to you. Secondly, don’t stand there looking so smug. You aren’t that much taller than me and wouldn’t be able to reach the ball from here either.”

James cocked his head to the side, thinking.

“I promise you, I can.”

“Oh yeah? Try me, Potter.”

And before James could think about his next move, he walked the small distance to where Regulus was still leaning on the table, stopping right behind him and leaning over.

Regulus made a surprised noise at the sudden closeness, looking at James with such incredulity, James felt the need to defend himself.

“Don’t be like that. I know if I’d let you make space for me and I would’ve been able to make the shot, you’d just tell me I was standing somewhere else or some bullshit like that. I’m just making sure you can’t do that.” Thank the lord for giving him the ability to talk shit at all times because this was definitely one of those.

Against all expectations, Regulus didn’t call him out on it, though, just making a small scoffing noise, and James returned to the task at hand.

Let it be known that James tried his absolute best to leave a gap between him and Regulus’ ass. Even though he loved how pink Regulus’ face has gotten at the close proximity, he didn’t think pressing his very evident erection right there would be the best course of action.

However, Regulus hadn’t been completely off stating James wouldn’t be able to reach the ball, especially since he needed to stretch over Regulus as well. His arms came up short as well, missing just that tiny gap James so carefully left there.

The urge to win an argument ended up being more important, though and he pushed just that much closer, pushing down the loud moan that threatened to escape his lips at the contact. He also tried to ignore the way he could hear Regulus’ breath hitch, instead focusing on lining up the pool stick and taking the shot, successfully managing to sink the ball into the corner hole.

The silence that followed his shot was deafening. Tension almost unbearable as the two man didn’t move their spot, bodies flush against each other.

It was Regulus who moved first, turning his head back as much as he could, finding James’ eyes.

“Fuck you, Potter.”, he ground out, wanting it to sound annoyed, but it ended up coming out a lot breathier, sounding almost like a whine.

“Oh, you fucking wish I would.”, is what left James’ lips and fucking hell he really needed to learn to think before he spoke.

Another very sexually charged silence followed, James trying not to let the motion of Regulus’ tongue darting out and wetting his lips go to his head.

And before James could comprehend what was happening, Regulus craned his head and kissed him.

It wasn’t good.

The angle was weird with Regulus still with his back to him and James didn’t react at all to the kiss, brain apparently having stopped functioning the moment Regulus’ lips met his.

It ended just as sudden and quickly as it had started, James staring at Regulus like a deer caught in headlights and apparently not reacting in any way to your crush kissing you wasn’t the best cause of action (or lack thereof) because Regulus immediately apologized, trying to get away from still being trapped under James’ larger body.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have- I don’t know why I did that. I’ll just- fuck you’re heavy, you know?- I’ll just go… Just let me- James?”

It’s his first name that pulls him out of whatever trance he was in, taking a step back and giving Regulus barely enough time to turn around, before grabbing him at the waist and kissing him properly.

It was everything.

Regulus made a surprised noise but managed to react way quicker than James had, returning the kiss eagerly. Their bodies where pressed together against the side of the pool table and James felt like he was set on fire when Regulus’ hands pulled at his neck to bring him impossibly close, cold rings digging into his hot skin and sending shivers down his spine.

The kiss quickly got out of hands, tongues exploring each other hungrily, desperate to get a taste. It lasted forever and was over way too quickly at the same time, both men coming up for air, foreheads pressed together.

“Remind me to play pool with you more often, if it gets you to kiss me like that.” Regulus’ voice sounded breathy against James’ lips.

“Anytime, love.”

[evesaintyves]

@thethreebroomsticksficfest is having a microfic celebration for Harry Potter's birthday... but as usual my fic isn't very micro. here you go anyway.

The Underside

Harry's eyes keep meeting Uncle Vernon's in the rearview mirror.  It's two days before his tenth birthday. They've only been driving for forty-five minutes and Dudley's already been sick twice. Harry's pretty sure his aunt and uncle think it's his fault, somehow, but he's not the one who piled Dudley's plate with a half-dozen fried eggs this morning.

Weird things have been happening around him, though. That's the only reason they've brought him along instead of locking him up—he'd prepared himself to spend the day sipping underbrewed tea and letting his eyes glaze over at thirty years of snapshots of Mrs. Figg's dead cats, but when his aunt marched him over this morning, the old woman never answered her door. One of her cats was in the front window, switching its tail to and fro as she knocked and knocked, as if to say, time's ticking, Petunia, you're going to be late—

So, after a whispered argument in the kitchen—no, that boy's not to be trusted, we'll come home to the whole place in flames—his uncle dragged him by the arm to the backseat of the car. Dudley's brought along so many road-snacks and toy dumptrucks that Harry only has half a seat to squeeze himself into, but it's sort of nice. He doesn't get many long rides. Past the rows of houses and the repeating grids of car parks there are farms like he's seen in storybooks, rumpled over the hills, ribbed like green corduroy with cabbages in rows. Cows kneel in the shade of trees. What a life it would be, Harry thinks, to wander all day in the grass of a field, bothered only by the odd horsefly. Eating his fill. Surrounded by friends.

—

While Vernon's at the convention, Petunia takes them to the pleasure pier. Dudley tries for one of the big prizes, a stuffed gorilla that looks rather like his dad, but his strategy is to hurl the ball with as much destructive force as possible and he's swiftly banned from the Coconut Shy. He does the same at the pingpong ball and fishbowls, whipping the ball like he's trying to murder a fish, and while Petunia is arguing with the teenaged game-operator, Harry boredly tosses one of Dudley's unused pingpongs. It plops right into the centre of a fishbowl, where a longfinned red-and-gold fish circles it and issues a surprised silver bubble from its puckering mouth.

Petunia's convinced Harry cheated (and he's not entirely sure, actually, that he didn't. He's had a lot of weird luck and near-misses, lately. Last week, Dudley tried to hit him with a water balloon and it bounced off Harry's chest, hit Dudley square in the crotch, and made it look like he'd wet his trousers) so Dudley gets the fish, of course. It's in a few inches of water inside a plastic bag. He swings it around violently as they walk through the arcade.

I'm sorry, Harry thinks at the fish. I didn't mean to make things worse for you.

At the beach, while Petunia is buttering Dudley with suncream, Harry walks into the chilly water until it's up to his chest. The swells lift him off his feet, a bit, and the sand feels warm when he scrunches his toes. When he stretches out his arms and legs to float on his back, it's like the sea is cradling him, holding him up, and after a moment the sensation is uncomfortable for some reason so he curls into a ball and sinks under the surface, pinching his nose.

It burns a little when he opens his eyes, but he's instantly stricken by how peaceful it is under there and he doesn't want to close them. Above his head, there's the sparkling tumult of the waves. Below, the sand moves slow, like it's sleepy. There are the legs of other swimmers, kicking, oblivious. There's a spiky little crab with an orange pill-bottle for a shell. There's a grumpy-looking grey-green fish with rippling fins, flat and creeping along the bottom like it's trying not to be noticed. Harry wishes he could do that. He's always drawing attention to himself, blurting out a sarky thought when he ought to have just kept quiet, having some lucky thing happen that makes Dudley wail and Vernon haul him by the collar across the house and into his cupboard. If only he could stay here, in this secret world underneath the waves, where no-one on the shore even knew he was there...

A cloud of minnows, moving as one, drifts like a shadow in front of his face. They all turn sideways and seem to look at him with their iridescent eyes. He looks back, wondering if he's disturbing them, his chest starting to prickle as he runs out of air.

Before he can push off the sand and come up, all the little minnows rush at him, stroking their cool bodies along his cheeks, wriggling through his hair. He shuts his eyes, but just as quickly they're gone. He turns to see the grey ghost of them vanishing into the blue distance.

Then a hand is in his hair, yanking, and he's swallowing salt, breaking the surface and blind in the afternoon sun.

"You can't drown today, you knob, Dad's got a very exclusive dinner with a client," Dudley shouts in his face. Harry sputters, there's water stinging in his nose, and on the shore he can see Aunt Petunia waving her sunhat at the two of them, stepping along the lacy hem of the water like she's afraid to let it touch her feet.

—

"The double-augur—that's the crown jewel of the Heavy-Duty line," Vernon is telling Petunia, but in the rearview his eyes are on Harry like he thinks he's up to something. Harry's skin still smells faintly of salt. Dudley's plopped his goldfish onto the pile of plastic dumptrucks like it's just another toy. Harry picks it up and peers into the plastic bag; it's hard to tell because the car is moving, but it looks like it might already be dead.

"Cheap ruddy fish," Dudley sulks. "Didn't even last 'til dinner."

"All cheats, those game operators," Vernon huffs.

"We'll get you a better fish tomorrow, Popkin," cooes Petunia. "A couple of fighting fish, maybe, wouldn't that be fun?"

"I'd do myself in too if I had to share a room with you," Harry mutters. The back of Vernon's neck goes purple, and he nearly crashes the car shouting at Harry, and Dudley pinches his arm hard enough to leave a bruise, but Harry finds he's not bothered. He closes his eyes as the cabbage-fields are crowded out by houses. There's a world out there, huge and hidden, full of colours he's only seen in dreams, full of creatures and beautiful tricks of the light, and he'll get back to it someday—he'll take a breath, he'll dive down into deep water, and he'll open his eyes—

image: paul klee

[thebibutterflyao3]

Day 5 Prompt: Music @rosekiller-microfic

March Daily Series - 637 words

<<<Previous Part OR Start Here

Barty pulled his phone out again and checked it. Still nothing from Evan, or anyone else for that matter. He’d burned too many bridges.

With a resigned sigh, he tossed it on the passenger seat and started his car. It took a few attempts to get it running, but that was normal for a Ford Fiesta that was older than he was. He shifted gears, then pulled out of the pharmacy car park.

Three hours and I’ll be home.

He mashed the stereo button when he reached the outskirts of Cardiff. The overexcited voice of a football announcer filtered through and he immediately turned the dial. BBC Radio was a definite no. Only when the opening strings of Bittersweet Symphony caught his attention did he leave it.

Barty bobbed with the beat as he side-eyed the coastline. The song was a trippy blend of grunge, electronica, and orchestra that reminded him of some mash-ups that he’d heard at a club in Amsterdam. When the lyrics flowed in, he mumbled along mindlessly. It wasn’t until the chorus hit that the words settled into his chest.

No change, I can change, I can change, I can change. But I’m here in my mould. I’m here in my mould. But I’m a million different people from one day to the next. I can’t change my mould, no, no, no, no.

Barty gripped the steering wheel and tuned out the rest of the song. He did try to change, to be better for Evan. It just didn’t work. It wasn’t enough to overcome who he was.

You can’t make a meal out of rubbish, caro.

His mamma’s words weren’t about him at the time, but they fit all the same. Barty was a rubbish person and no matter what he did, nothing would change that fact. Evan deserved better than a pile of rubbish.

Evan deserves the fucking world. He wasted his time with me.

A cold sensation washed over his skin and left goosebumps in its wake. Reality was never kind to him and when it smacked him upside the head, Barty was eternally gobsmacked by the cruelty of it. He was allowed a little taste of what he wanted, then it was ripped out of his mouth like a naughty child who dared to sneak a bite of dessert. The memory of a stinging cheek felt exactly the same.

Barty bit his bottom lip until the sharp, metallic taste of his blood flowed free. He focused on the road and the stinging sensation left behind. His mind was not his friend when he was sober, but his stomach would revolt if he stopped at a pub now. Even a sandwich would be a feat to keep down.

As the road curved side to side, Creep came on the radio. This one, he sang at top volume with as much passion as he could muster for the vocalizations in the middle. It was cathartic.

“I wish I was special, you’re so fucking special. But I’m a creep, I’m a weirdo. What the hell am I doin’ here? I don’t belong here.”

The music faded out and an advertisement followed, but Barty was still repeating the chorus under his breath. If there was ever a song written specifically for him and Evan, that was the one. Barty didn’t belong anywhere, or with anyone, but Evan…Evan was everything that he wasn’t. Nothing phased him. He was the definition of unbothered most of the time.

An image of his easy grin and bright blue eyes flicked through Barty’s mind. Evan smiled more than anyone he’d ever met and his laugh — fuck, that obnoxious laugh — made Barty’s insides twist in knots. It was loud, higher pitched than his normal voice, and accompanied by breathless little gasps.

He liked Evan’s awful laugh. It was honest.

Next Part>>>

[athenasparrow]

No. 12 - Indulge | Jily Microfic March

Thank you @jilymicrofics for the wonderful prompt. This is the one that inspired them all xx

Read on AO3 | 2,061 words

Smut warning : )

The benefit of being Head Girl, Lily mused, was indulging in the prefects bathroom at 2am on winter break while the rest of the castle was sound asleep. 

The whole room smelt of lavender and Lily could feel it diffuse deep in her lungs as she inhaled the steam that hung around her like a soft cloud. 

She sighed as she dipped her head back against her towel and let her legs float up into the bubbles, wiggling so her periwinkle painted toes peaked out of the water. 

Inside the bath there was no mess. Lily could shed her worries and focus on the warmth of the water and the scent of the bubbles. Because outside this room, there was a lot of mess. 

Lily may have first sailed across the smooth Black Lake to Hogwarts as a naive first year, eager to please her teachers and learn about the newly discovered world, but the lake had turned choppy and dangerous and Lily felt like she might capsize and drown at any moment. Her assignments were certainly more complex, she was confused over whether she should pursue charms or potions for her Mastery…whether she should choose either of them at all, really. 

Lily knew a muggle born in this climate would not succeed at the ministry. But leaving? That felt like giving up a piece of herself she hadn't discovered until eleven, but was nevertheless a part she held sacred. 

And James . He may have been a thorn in her side for six years, but this year? He'd been nothing but kind…attentive…reliable. 

Lily had to admit he’d grown up. 

And there lay the confusion: because she may have been lying to her friends for months, but Lily knew, in the sanctuary of her own mind, that she could admit she was attracted to James Potter. 

She hadn't noticed it at first. Her attraction had hit her as suddenly as a summer thunderstorm.

It was too bad he had stopped asking her out this year, really. 

Lily was pulled from her thoughts as she heard the door creak open and heavy footsteps echoed on the stone floor. 

Lily pushed off the wall and grabbed her wand. 

She wasn't the naive first year anymore . 

“James” she said in surprise as a familiar silhouette rounded the corner. 

He skidded to a stop, frozen and staring at her like a deer caught in headlights.

She would have called him out on it if she hadn’t been staring herself. 

He’d clearly just come in from a fly. His broom hung from his hand and his hair was windswept in such a way that Lily wanted to run her hands through it and snog him. His tracksuit pants slug low over his hips and Lily could make out a small line of his toned stomach as his hand automatically jumped to his hair upon seeing her. 

A nervous habit, Lily now knew.

She was making him nervous . 

She felt a rush of power run through her even though she'd just lowered her wand. 

“Um sorry” James said his hand moving up as if to cover his eyes, though his hazel gaze seemed unable to break the way it was locked on her. “I…ummm…yeah…came in from fly…and wanted a bath…obviously you're here…not that I wouldn't want a bath with you…I mean oh Merlin” 

“Is James Potter lost for words?” Lily questioned, smirking up at him. 

He looked back at her, eyes wide at the teasing, husky tone her voice seemed to have taken. 

His eyes darted down to where Lily knew her breasts were barely covered by the bubbles. His tongue darted out to run along his lips and Lily was overcome with the sudden urge to run her own tongue along his lips. 

“You always take my breath away Lil” he said wading deeper into the intimate moment Lily seemed to have created “I just normally say something stupid instead of stumbling all over my words”

He admitted shuffling his feet, his gaze now on the floor. 

Lily felt her stomach flip at that particular confession and thought back over the years. Was that why, all along ? She thought she might be teetering on the edge of a cliff about to glimpse something wonderful.

Could he….

Lily found she wanted his hazel eyes back on hers, instead of boring into the stone floor.

She leaped.

“James” she whispered, her voice so soft she wondered if she’d have to repeat herself. 

But his head snapped up immediately as if she’d shouted. 

“Do you want to get in?” Lily asked, her hands clenching with nerves under the water, unseen. 

Lily was thankful James had such an expressive face so she could read his reaction before he said anything. 

She saw his eyes widen in surprise, his pupils dilate in arousal, and his fiddling hand betrayed his nerves. Shock and hope settled on his features as he stared at her.

“Yeah?” James asked, eyes seeking hers.

“Yes” Lily reassured him letting a slow smile creep over her lips.

He stepped forward before hesitating, suddenly looking pained “Lily I can’t just shag you” he said “are you…I need…what are you saying?”

“James Potter lost for words again?” Lily asked, though this time her tone was much softer “I don't just want to shag you James” she said softly, surely. “I want all of you” she clarified when he remained silent. 

“I want all of you too” he said clearing his throat as he looked up at her and she was surprised to see his eyes were wet. “I just thought I'd missed my chance” 

“Well you might if you don't get in here” Lily teased pushing herself slightly up so the water settled at her waist. 

“Fuck” she heard James mutter under her breath and felt a smug sort of satisfaction wash over her. 

She didn't think she’d ever seen someone move so fast to get in a bath. She almost asked him to slow down so she could admire the ripple of his muscles as he lowered himself into the bath.

But it seemed more than the water slowed him down once he was in. Whether he was tentative about the moment that had been building for years, or nervous about what might come, Lily couldn't tell, but he moved slowly, reverently as if he might wake from a dream when his skin touched hers. 

“Your glasses are going to get wet” she whispered, the unfiltered thought leaving her mouth before she had the chance to edit it. 

James huffed an incredulous soft laugh that tugged at Lily’s heart strings. “I can't take them off” he said “Merlin, Lily, I need to be able to see you” he grinned bashfully at her, before dipping his head.

Lily felt a hot flush start at her collarbone and spread up to her face. By the soft exhale that escaped James’ parted lips she suspected it might have crept even lower. 

“You're beautiful” he murmured, finally close enough she could touch him. 

“You're beautiful too” Lily returned honestly, letting her eyes sweep over his top half once more before lingering at where the water lapped at his hips, hidden beneath, a part of him she'd only caught a quick glimpse of when he hopped in.  

She thought her flush may have grown darker when she tore her gaze away to meet his eyes once more. 

Lily felt an involuntary shudder run through her body. She'd never had someone look at her quite like that before. 

She felt his breath stop momentarily when her fingers grazed his chest, only to become more sure in their place when he blew out a deep trembling breath and stepped closer to her. 

“Can I kiss you?” He whispered. 

Lily felt her own breath hitch as she nodded and his face softened before he dipped his head. 

Lily used the grip she had on his abdomen as balance to lean up and meet him. 

He kissed her softly and tenderly, as if they were both testing the waters instead of having flung themselves fully naked in a bath together. 

She couldn't have held the soft sigh of contentment she released if she'd tried. 

She was happy she never tried because her sigh seemed to propel James closer to her, his hands now firm and sure on her waist. 

Lily pulled at his bottom lip gently, eliciting a delicious moan from deep in his chest before pulling back slightly. 

Their kiss had been soul soothing and gentle, full of the tenderness and trust they'd built up over the years. 

And Lily would look back on that kiss as one of the sweetest moments they'd had. 

But right now she was burning for him and she needed him to be sure, so they could burn together. 

“More James” she said, her voice low, her lips inches from him. 

“I'm afraid if I push too hard this dream is going to shatter” James whispered, staring at her his eyes unguarded and vulnerable in his confession.

“This isn't a dream James” Lily said, her arms meeting behind his back. “I'm not going anywhere. I’m on fire for you and I’m going to combust if you don’t-

His lips interrupted her reasoning with a fierceness that had Lily catching her breath. His hands pulled her closer to him, and started to trace every inch of her like he was trying to commit her to memory. 

Lily wondered if she’d find scorch marks left on her skin where his fingers blazed hot against her. 

“Merlin yes James” she moaned long and low as she tried to return the kiss with equal ferocity. 

Lily may have been embarrassed about how ready she was for him, if he hadn't let out a growl that sent her shivering when his fingers discovered her dripping. 

But she didn't have room for doubt: not with the sound he let out just beside her ear and the hard feel of him pressing against her hip. 

She was surprised when he stopped her hand as she moved to encircle him, to drive him to an unthinking mess like he was doing to her. 

“You can't touch me” his low voice spoke against her lips, his eyes shining as he broke their latest set of kisses “I need to last. I want to be inside you”

“I want you inside me too” Lily whispered, her body aching for him, her magic crackling against her skin as his fingers moved again to drive her over into the sweet abyss of bliss. 

When she came, James broke away to watch her and she tried to capture the hazy, hungry, tender look on his face before he leaned in to kiss her. 

Lily wondered how they could have possibly made it through the whole year without this when she felt him pressed up against her entrance. 

He paused, and Lily whined, moving her hips to try and encase him. 

He groaned, helpless to do anything but sink into her. 

“Lily wait” he whispered, looking pained at the stillness he held. 

Her answering noise of protest had his lips quirking, but he cupped her face and his hazel eyes blazed into hers. 

“Lily I love you” he said softly, with the sureness of a thousand times. 

Lily felt her own eyes prickle as a smile burst across her face “I love you too” she laughed, before moaning as he sunk impossibly deeper. 

His hands were under her, moving her with his hips as he backed them against the wall of the tub. His fingers dug into the flesh of her as he bottomed out, his tongue circling her peaked nipples until her own hand crept down to give herself release.

And as she came down from her second peak, James pressed himself impossibly close, his thrusts becoming smaller and deeper inside her.

“Lils can… fuck …can”

“Cum inside me James” Lily demanded, suspecting the question he was wrestling to get out.

“ Fuck ” he repeated as he stuttered inside her and Lily felt the warm release of him fill her.

Her lips sought his immediately, letting him catch his breath between slow kisses.

So Lily may have indulged in a bit more than bubbles and warmth. But Merlin, James Potter was impossible to resist and Lily wanted to indulge in him every day for the rest of her life.

[narcissa-black-supermacy]

March 05 Game + 06 Rare - @prongsfoot-microfic

“Is it really all a game to you?” Sirius chokes out. His voice is hoarse - tired of screaming, yelling his heart out, pleading to be heard. “Some sick, twisted power play to see just how many people you can string along, to boost your over-bloated ego?”

The perfect mask of cocky confidence over James’ face wavers, a rare glimpse of something hurt and vulnerable flashing behind his eyes. He looks surprised for a moment, genuinely thrown off, like he wasn’t actually expecting this outburst, wasn’t expecting Sirius to finally get fed up instead of playing along with his usual antics.

“You know what?” A choked off laugh breaks past his lips, all the pain and regret in his chest bubbling up his throat. “Don’t even answer that. I don’t think I want to hear it.”

James blinks at him, having the audacity to look innocent, and hurt, and so fucking gorgeous even when he doesn’t deserve that, even when Sirius is supposed to be mad at him, not begging for a fraction of the attention James keeps giving to anyone else but him.

“Sirius, wait!” He exclaims, a sudden urgency to the tone of his voice. His eyes are wide, uncharacteristically scared and uncertain as he bolts up to his feet, moving to block Sirius’ path to the door. “I-- I didn’t mean it like that. It was just a joke, it wasn’t serious--”

“A joke,” Sirius drawls dryly. “Isn’t everything to you?”

“Pads, come on,” the other pleads, “you know I didn’t mean it like that. It’s not the same thing.”

He tries to reach out, touch him, hand coming up to cradle Sirius’ face, soft fingers brushing against his cheeks and tangling in his hair with so much gentle care, so much love and tenderness. Sirius’ eyes flutter shut. For a second, he almost gives in, almost falls for it again, lets himself revel in the warmth James is offering, his heart beating with desperate need, prepared to accept absolutely anything just to have this for a few more sacred moments.

“You know it’s not like that,” James keeps speaking. “It’s you, it’s always been you, nobody else compares, Pads. I love you.”

I love you was the same thing he told Lily. The images flash behind Sirius’ closed eyes, vivid and clear as day, burned into his memory forever. James’ hands on Lily’s face, kissing her, fingers intertwined together. A picture perfect sight.

“Fuck you,” he growls, hand coming up to push James by the chest, sending him stumbling backwards. “I’m not playing along with this anymore. You’ll have to make a choice.”

James is standing there, looking so lost and confused, like he genuinely does not understand why this is happening. Sirius jerks away from any attempt at contact, not even bothering to grab his things as he bolts for the door.

“If you love me then prove it,” he seethes once he’s one foot out of the door, whipping around to face him one last time. He is painfully aware of the wet shakiness of his own voice, the stinging in his eyes, how fucking pathetic and desperate he must look right now. “I’d fucking die for you if you asked me to, James. I’m not asking you to do the same, I’m just asking you to choose me.”

His voice breaks over the last words, tears blurring his vision. He doesn’t wait to find out what other clever excuse or false promise James has got ready on the tip of his tongue when he reaches his hand out. Sirius slams the door shut and apparates away with a crack, his lungs burning with every breath he takes.

[the-chaosbringer]

@prongsfoot-microfic 's Prongsfoot Microfic March

It's been three days since I wrote something. This one was fun.

14. Study

"Jamie."

Sirius glared up at James, who simply looked back, the corners of his lips twitching even as he slowly ground his hips down into Sirius. Sirius bit the inside of his cheek and gripped James' waist with one hand to make him stop.

"Jamie, get off my lap."

James, little shit that he was, wrapped his arms around Sirius' neck and swivelled his hips harder, letting out a soft gasp at the contact. Sirius sucked in a sharp breath, letting go of the quill and squeezing his hips with both hands, grey eyes narrowed in a warning glare.

"I want to study, Potter," he said between gritted teeth.

James smirked and leaned down to brush his nose along Sirius' jaw, lightly nipping at his earlobe, making the fingers on his hips tighten deliciously.

"Bully for you, Sirius," he murmured into the skin of his throat. "Because I want you to fuck me."

"Bordel."

James gasped when the hands left his hips to dig into the meat of his thighs, before Sirius was hauling the both of them out of the chair and towards his bed.

"You," Sirius huffed as he threw James onto the bed, punching the breath out of his lungs, "are a brat."

James rose onto his elbows and grinned up at Sirius, who stood at the foot of the bed with his arms crossed over his chest.

"i know," he replied smugly. "It gets me what I want."

Sirius raised an eyebrow, and it shouldn't have made James' stomach squirm the way it did, but this was Sirius. He looked hot no matter what he did.

"You think it'll get you what you want right now?"

"Won't it?"

Sirius pounced.

[lulublack90]

Prompt 15 - Use

@jegulus-microfic March 15 Word count 968

Previous part First part

Regulus woke the next morning curled up in James’s arms. He hadn’t slept so well in months. He sighed contentedly and nuzzled his face further into James’s side. James’s arms tightened around him as he blinked blearily down at Regulus as he woke up.

“Morning,” James murmured into Regulus’s hair as he gently kissed him. Regulus grinned dopily back at him. 

“Morning,” 

The bedroom door banged open, and a huge black dog bounded in and launched itself onto the bed, landing heavily on James and Regulus. 

“Sirius! Leave them be!” Remus came into view. “Sorry,” He panted. “He got a bit over-excited.”

“Sirius, I swear to Salazar that if you don’t get off me, I’ll let Pandora loose on your hair. She’ll use you like her new doll. I’m sure I heard her talking about pink and purple colouring.” The dog rolled off the bed and onto the floor. Sirius stood up, looking at his brother in horror, grasping his prized locks in his hands. 

“You wouldn’t dare!” He growled. Regulus sneered at his brother. 

“Watch me. PAN—” He didn’t get to finish yelling for Pandora as Sirius stuck one of his hands over his mouth. Regulus immediately licked his hand. 

“EWW Reg!” Sirius wiped the drool off on his robes. They were just about to start bickering when Regulus inhaled sharply. Sirius’s face dropped in worry as he grabbed his brother’s arm and twisted it so the dark mark was face up. The snake and skull were writhing on his forearm. He’d been summoned.

He jumped out of bed and barged his way into Evan’s room. He should have knocked. His arm flew up in front of his eyes, and he turned away as Barty dragged the duvet over himself and Evan. 

“Shit—sorry,” He shook his head. “Erm, I just got summoned. Did either of you?” 

“Nope.” They both said. 

“Okay, er. I need to go. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He hurried out of the room, slamming the door after himself. His face must have been a picture as the other three burst into fits of laughter. He rolled his eyes at them. 

“I have to go. I’m expected at Lestrange Castle.” They stopped laughing. 

“Be careful, Reg.” Sirius stepped forward and hugged him. Regulus’s eyes widened, but he still hugged him back. 

“We’ll wait for you here,” James said as Regulus kissed his lips.

“Don’t die,” Remus smirked. 

“I don’t know what you’re on about Lupin. You’re coming with me.” 

“Fuck sake!” Remus grunted. He was not happy, and neither was Sirius. Regulus explained himself before his brother could get himself worked up. 

“If I don’t take him, they’ll wonder where he is, and they might send someone to look for him. They won’t find him at Grimmauld, and the first place they’ll come after that is here, and we can’t afford for anyone to come here poking around. I don’t know how long they want me for. It’s safer for everyone if he comes.” 

Remus kissed Sirius sweetly.

“We hopefully won’t be long. I’ll see you soon.” 

Remus followed Regulus out of Rosier House and side-alonged to Lestrange House. 

Regulus’s cousin greeted him. 

“Regulus, you arrived swiftly. We’re just finishing up a private meeting, and then the Dark Lord wishes to see you.” Bellatrix gushed at him. “Come in, come in and make yourself at home.” Her eyes flicked to Remus. “Oh, you’ve brought your pet with you.” Her nose wrinkled as though she’d smelt something foul.

“Sorry, Bella, but without Kreacher to watch over him, I didn’t want to leave him alone at Grimmauld Place.” Her eyes widened in understanding. 

“Of course, dear cousin, of course. Quite understandable.” She pulled him in close and whispered in his ear. “Don’t let him out of your sight.” Regulus nodded and allowed her to link his arm as they walked up to the castle door.

Bellatrix left them in the entrance as she disappeared into the gloomy halls back to her meeting. 

Regulus ended up showing Remus the castle. He guessed they’d be waiting a while. He always was in this castle. They were in the collections room. Regulus was showing off some of the unique objects that the Lestrange family had collected over the generations when his eyes landed on something he hadn’t noticed before. 

A small two-handled golden cup with a badger engraving on the front.  It was the cup. Regulus could have kicked himself. Of course, Voldemort had given a Horcrux to his most loyal followers. Lestrange Castle had so many wards and protections on it no one who hadn’t been invited in would be able to get to it. 

“Remus, look!” He pointed excitedly at the cup. 

“Merlin! Is it warded?” Remus always asked the important questions. Regulus was immensely glad he was there and not Sirius, who would have just grabbed the cup. 

There was a tamper jinx on it and the other objects in the glass case. 

They quickly came up with a plan. Regulus transfigured a Galleon into a convincing copy of the cup and stood in front of it ready. 

He and Remus both opened different cabinets at exactly the same time. The room stayed silent. Regulus closed his eyes and took a deep breath. They’d have seconds before someone came to see what they were doing. 

“Okay, three, two, one,” Regulus said calmly. They reached out and picked up what was in front of them. A loud, ear-ringing siren went off, filling the room with noise. Regulus quickly replaced the cup with the fake and stowed the real one in his pocket. He shut the cabinet door just as the rooms door swung open so violently it hit the wall with a crack. A swarm of witches and wizards moved in, wands raised.  

Next part

[roalinda]

Here is a small contribution to prongsfoot microfics. Let's pretend it is still April 4th. 🙈

@prongsfoot-microfic

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This happens in an AU in which Voldemort has won and Sirius who had been the secret keeper is dead and James is captured.

****

April 4 , Loss

( + March 22 , Lineage )

****

Canis major was bright tonight.

No, it was not just bright, it was ablaze with radiance, stars shining too close, too blinding. They were beautiful and James shakily reached out to grab Sirius, his favourite one, the brightest. 

But the sky was frigid through his fingers, solid yet empty to touch, and James whimpered pitifully to an obscure entity, his fragile hold seeking Sirius in Canis major desperately, seeking but not finding.

"Let go, filthy blood traitor. You're ruining my robes," an eerie voice snapped. It was overdosed with saccharine which masked tons of hatred.

James relented, disoriented and dizzy. He blinked rapidly, his bloodshot eyes nearly blind at this point. Glasses did him no good, not with his damaged eye nerves and overwhelming shock. He made his mind to focus, chasing dizziness away. It was hard, but he did it.

Oh, there was Sirius!

He was sitting on the edge of the bed, looking down at his weak body with cold amusement. His hair was longer than James remembered, wild yet still blessed with the Black effortless elegance. His lips were full and red, a shameless lure of a poisoned apple and his lashes were lush and long, framing his beguiling grey eyes. 

"I said let go. Are you dim?"

"Si…Sirius…" James slurred feverishly, mind hectic with delusions. The surreal sky seemed distant now, a vivid sequin dress in it's place. He heaved, or maybe it was a sob. All this time, he was reaching out hopelessly for something that was not there. 

How stupid of him.

Blood gurgled through his windpipe like sand through a broken hourglass and it bled on his lips along with Sirius' name once again, a prayer begging to be heard. 

"Poor little Potter, Murderer little Potter..." The voice was giggling and singing now and James' blood turned into ice. This was not Sirius' pleasant baritone, it was softer and mockingly shrill. 

Bellatrix. 

"Regained some consciousness, huh?" She smirked at him before tilting her head. "What do you think of this dress? It's for the Dark Lord's victory party." She twirled around with careful steps. "It's magnificent." 

"May you…and your dress..burn in hell," talking was hard and James was adrift.

"After you," Bellatrix sneered at him, her voice no longer scratching through the air like an angry cat's scream. It was deep, calm and cold , the Black voice. 

"You killed my darling cousin," she said, voice clipped and raw. "You took him away from his family, poisoned his mind, made him betray his kin and then killed him." 

Her words were daggers into James' heart and he could do nothing but to feel the sting of salt in his wounded eyes as tears fell. 

"A secret keeper. A secret to be taken to his grave. You are a coward, Potter. You knew he would die for you," she spat bitterly.

Sirius and Bellatrix's bond was not of hate, James always knew. It ran deeper, way deeper. Bellatrix didn't hate Sirius, she hated James for shattering their crystal dollhouse, a dollhouse which was the House of Black.

"A pregnant wife, of course she was your top priority, not the stray you had taken in from the Black family," she giggled, playing with her wand nonchalantly.

"N…no…" James shuddered. Bellatrix's words were toxic and they burned throughout his body, making him numb, branding him with shame.

"You have his blood on your hands. It was your fault he died. Let me tell you something…Do you know who betrayed him the most? It was not me. It was not aunt Walburga or uncle Orion. It was not even Regulus." 

James' lips were wobbling. He was disgusted with the world, with destiny and above all with himself, because in a way Bellatrix was right. Sirius would have been alive if he wasn't the secret keeper.

"The one who betrayed him the most was you, Potter. You failed him," she purred, enjoying the way James was drowning in a cesspool of guilt. She basked in James' brokenness and mourning, watching him falling apart gleefully.

"I…I didn't…" James moaned feverishly through vivid hallucinations, once again reaching out to Canis major, seeking Sirius helplessly.

"I may have killed my dear cousin with my own wand but it was you who drove him into this stupidity," Bellatrix's eyes had a strange hue in them, different and mad.

"When it comes to revenge, there is no inner hate in the House of Black. We are one. That's the rule."

James gritted his teeth and Bellatrix narrowed her eyes. "I'm going to keep you alive in this fancy cage and will make sure you will remain alive. Every day you will grovel in your guilt and despair, you will beg me to kill you and I will spit on your rotten body because you deserve no more."

She looked like Sirius now, more than ever. The same beauty, same insanity, same cruelty.

James wanted to curse her but somewhere dark in his sick mind, he knew she was right in a twisted way. His choice had been wrong. He was given the chance and he made the wrong choice and now he was nothing but a decaying corpse in search of sweet release, in search of death and Sirius.

Bellatrix was right.

[prongsfootandco]

Satisfied

Written for Day 4 of @prongsfoot-microfic March Prompts

CW: Smut (sort of, definitely nsfw), omegaverse (Omega!James/Alpha!Sirius)

On AO3 _

When Sirius wakes up, it’s not to the sunlight streaming through the windows of Gryffindor Tower, although it certainly is bright, nor is it to the sound of Remus and Peter bickering as they get ready for breakfast, the pair of them are still snoring behind the scarlet curtains of their four-poster beds. He wakes up to the sound of an omega purring against his chest. James is curled up on top of him, his arm draped possessively across Sirius’ torso, holding him down. There’s a soft smile on his lips, even in sleep, and his dark hair has fallen into his eyes, brushing against his cheeks. 

He’s beautiful. 

Sirius has always known James is beautiful, ever since they met six years ago, but it feels different this morning. 

Today, Sirius knows that pumpkin juice tastes sweeter when it’s on James’ tongue. He knows what it’s like to run his fingers over the strong muscles in James’ forearms, lacing their fingers together as he pushes inside him. He knows the feel of James clenching around his cock, the warmth, the heat, tight around him, squeezing untold pleasure from his body. He’s become intimately acquainted with the quiet gasps that fall from James’ lips, a whisper, a prayer in Sirius’ ears, pleading for more as gasps become moans, tearing through the night. 

How can it possibly feel the same after that?

Sirius’ heart flutters in his chest as he stares down at his sleeping lover. He feels unbelievably lucky, knowing that he’s found his mate already. Some people wait years before committing to another, but Sirius knows that James is it for him - he always has been. 

It came as a shock when James presented as omega, but James took it in his stride, flaunting his sweet scent, flirting outrageously with every alpha. He particularly enjoyed teasing the alphas that were smaller than him. As Gryffindor quidditch captain, James is not a typical meek omega, which is probably why Sirius is so attracted to him. He’s never been one for following stereotypes and expectations. 

Sirius’ jealousy was his undoing in the end. After weeks of watching James’ antics, Sirius all but threw himself at his best friend. 

He should have known that was James’ plan all along. 

And now James is in his arms, in his bed, tucked safely away from the other alphas who want to steal him away. 

Sirius bites back a growl. There’s no need for it. James is here with him, and the omega is having a good dream by the sounds of it. The purrs rumble low in his chest as he sleepily nuzzles against Sirius, scenting him unconsciously. 

“G’morning,” James slurs, the words catching on the satisfied noises thrumming through his body. “T’wasn’t a dream?”

Sirius laughs, brushing James’ hair from his eyes. It knows what James means, the night before was blissful. “Not a dream, love. I promise.”

There’s a hum and James flops back onto Sirius’ chest, hair falling back into place. “Good.”