#v/microfics ;)

[ecstarry]

@jegulus-microfic / wings / 238 words / a little flirty exchange during wimbledon

“Could you ask your friend to behave?” Regulus whispered in Sirius’ ear as he watched James swallow a plate of wings at the main court of fucking Wimbledon. Sirius didn’t even react, he was clearly extremely busy texting his boyfriend, who was getting them all drinks. 

“I can hear you,” James muttered with a mouth full, his eyes fixed on the food he was devouring. 

“Eavesdropping as well as talking with your mouth full are also bad-manners, Potter.” Regulus paused his scolding to hand James a napkin. “I’ve met your mother and I'm certain she taught you better than that.”

James discarded the napkin and started licking his fingers, “Wow! Already meeting the parents? You like to go fast, don’t you?”

Regulus didn’t even register he was being spoken to; he couldn’t. His eyes were stuck on the way James’ lips and tongue sucked one last finger. 

“Staring is not polite either, Regulus.” Oh. He wanted to hear his name come out of James’ mouth over and over again. 

“I wasn’t staring,” Regulus scoffed. 

“Your blush is saying otherwise, love.” Now that was something Regulus couldn’t wait to hear again. 

“Already calling me pet names?” 

James lit up at the response. He leaned in closer and whispered, “I’ll call you anything you want me to, Regulus.”

For the rest of the match, all Regulus could think of was James' lips, his fingers, his voice, and, oh, his eyes.

[veryinnovative]

@jegulus-microfic | april 30, prompt: sky | word count: 1.927 featuring older ceo regulus black and younger secretary james potter part 2 | part 1 AKA word on the street is i Excel in the sheets

“Erh…” he tries after a stretch of silence. “So, how was your day?”

Regulus pins him frozen to place with a look, a sign spelling ‘stupid’ nailed right into his forehead. “You know how my day was. You manage my schedule.”

Damn, tough crowd. “Okay,” James drawls, a little unsure. “But, like, how did it go?”

The place functions as any other hole-in-the-wall restaurant that serves just a handful of people throughout the day, most of whom are loyal customers returning every so often for a comfort meal when homesickness becomes a little too much to bear. Even now, there are only a couple of people scattered about, none of which pay any mind to either Regulus or James.

“So, first impressions?” James asks when he takes a seat across from him.

“It’s satisfactory.”

“Satisfactory.” James blinks.

Regulus is quiet. He looks terribly out of place wearing a luxury suit exported from one of the globe’s corners and James can’t help but feel a little guilty. He’s seen Regulus carve into lobster with only a fork and knife but still can’t help but worry about future dry cleaning prices for which he may or may not be responsible.

“Erh…” he tries after a stretch of silence. “So, how was your day?”

Regulus pins him frozen to place with a look, a sign spelling ‘stupid’ nailed right into his forehead. “You know how my day was. You manage my schedule.”

Damn, tough crowd. “Okay,” James drawls, a little unsure. “But, like, how did it go?”

Regulus, perhaps finally acknowledging his poor attempts at small talk to ease the awkwardness, studies him intently for a long, close moment before acquiescing. “Enervating.” Right, because Regulus is the type to unironically use words like enervating. 

“The business deal?” James asks and Regulus nods. “Dude from Jakarta, right?”

“The CEO from the biggest real estate company in Jakarta,” Regulus corrects him. 

Tomato, tomato. “Does this mean you get to leave work at a reasonable hour starting tomorrow?”

“I’ve never had reasonable working hours.”

“Of course, I forgot the very important detail you’re a raging workaholic.”

Regulus’ mouth sets into a firm line as his brows knit together into a censorious frown—his entire face contorting into something that’s one odd remark away from turning downright petulant. “I am not—” He stops. Breathes in. Probably recognizes James is very carefully pulling his tail and for some reason becomes decidedly collegial. “Allow me to rephrase myself. I am meticulous. I prefer finishing tasks before going home and don’t mind when it results in me staying at work a little longer. It’s inevitable as a CEO when timezones don’t work in my favor.” 

Absolute bullshit. “Just last week you kept leaving the office after the cleaning shift already came by to sweep the place clean. I know because they told me.”

“I can’t see how any of this poses as a bother to you.” And there it is, the good ole Regulus Black-esque deflection. 

“I’m just worried. That is all.”

Regulus’ nose twitches and he looks away, a clear indication that he no longer wants to be a willing participant in the conversation. When Regulus becomes like this, James has learned to leave it be.

Luckily, it doesn’t take long for the food to arrive. James can stop pretending to take in the beautiful sight of the night sky, cracked asphalt, and the flickering colors of traffic signs when the plate is placed on the center of the table, carrying an assortment of different meat cuts and a modest side salad that will probably be Regulus’ for the taking.

Using the table etiquette of a properly groomed aristocrat, Regulus carefully selects some vegetables to put on his plate and a modest serving of rice. He skillfully carves out some pieces around the skewer.

“Seriously,” James deadpans. “Go on, Your Royal Highness, you can use your hands for this.”

Regulus almost bridles at the mere suggestion.

“Seriously, there’s no shame in it. Here, let me do it for you”

Regulus watches as James grabs one of the skewers and uses his fork to tear chunks off, dropping a generous portion of roasted vegetables and meat on Regulus’ plate. “You want some of this flatbread?”

Regulus shakes his head and James shrugs. He swiftly mouths off a dollop of sauce on his thumb, which earns him one of Regulus’ notorious James-exclusive grimaces.

Right, table manners.

They get to eating and James is once again reminded of how much of a slow eater Regulus is. It’s like he counts his chews, jaw working diligently with the faint scrapes of his cutlery against the plate. That and he works even as he eats, almost on auto-pilot with how he takes out his phone to open Outlook.

“Using your phone at the table is rude manners,” James teases.

“I got an e-mail.”

“Of course.” He nods. “Nothing workaholic about that, no.”

“It’s an important e-mail.”

“You know I read something about how it’s also important to spend time with your employees.”  He waves around a piece of the flatbread as if to emphasize the point. “Get to know them better and all.”

“I know plenty about you,” Regulus answers as he types away.

“That so?”

Regulus looks at him, entirely indifferent as the phone is placed face-down on the table. “James Potter. Twenty-three years old. Finished your master’s degree at Oxford, with flying colors might I add. You took a gap year to travel, working all sorts of jobs to pay for your accommodation. Currently, you live near Camden and spend most of your spare time enjoying hobbies or going to the pub with your friends. You have a Joe and the Juice stamp card.”

James tries not to physically reel back. “That…” He starts, absolutely nonplussed. Someone come pick his fucking jaw off the table, it’s dropped off its hinges. “You know what Joe and the Juice is?” Impossible, all things considered. Regulus is in a tax bracket where chain restaurants might seem like fanciful inventions, the kind of places mentioned only in tales where fine dining is unheard of. There's a brief curiosity about whether this is the equivalent of discovering that Toy Story's Pizza Planet is a real place that actually serves food.

“I've come to understand that it's a venue offering juice among a broad array of meals and beverages, yes.”

Still, that’s doesn’t explain… “How do you even know all of that? I hardly even know anything about you other than that you recently turned thirty and were homeschooled for this position.” And that he’s quite fond of the occasional handful of candied macadamias when feeling particularly indulgent. James keeps a packet of it in his bag.

Regulus’ throat bobs. “I do thorough research on the people I employ”

That’s not more than thorough research at this point, far beyond the usual background checks done on new personnel. “Uh-uh. Or you stalk my Instagram during your free time.”

Regulus promptly chokes on his food. His fork falls onto the plate with a loud clatter. James nearly knocks his knee against the table as he too scrambles for the pitcher to pour him water, almost knocking over his can of Sprite in the process.

“Easy, I was just kidding.” He has half the mind to stand up and start patting him on his back to dislodge whatever molecular-sized cucumber wedged itself in his airpipe. “I doubt Mr. Black Enterprises even uses Instagram.”

Regulus looks up startled. Definitely not from the lack of air.

Oh.

Ohohohoh.

“Oh my god.” James’ face splits into a distinguished, shit-eating grin. “You do.” 

“What?” It’s barely a wheeze with the way Regulus has been caught. His grip is deadly around the fork, something that should warn James to be wary.

“Instagram,” James repeats, trying his hardest not to gloat when Regulus shivers. “You use it? The Regulus Black uses Instagram? I thought you would be a member of some upper-echelon-exclusive platform instead of mingling with us.”

The worry swiftly dissipates, giving way to confusion, and then settles into something far more at ease. Although James enjoys those fleeting moments where he gets Regulus riled up, he much prefers seeing him relaxed. “Oh—I—Yes. Occasionally,” he stammers, swallowing and reaching for a napkin to dap at his mouth with. “Barty convinced me,” he hastily adds. “It’s a very private account. I’m hardly active on it.”

Sinking into his seat, James pats around for his own phone. “You should follow me.”

“Shu?”

“On Instagram. You should follow me. If you want, of course.”

The tips of Regulus’ ears turn a delicious pink as he returns his attention to his plate. “I’ll think about it.”

After some more idle talk and eating, they decide to head out before Barty ultimately decides it’s past working hours and he’s not dropping Regulus off at home—some palatial penthouse tucked away in one of London's secluded enclaves where the affluent reside, enjoying a life of extravagance as they remain shielded from the public gaze.

Nonetheless, the cherished designated driver will have to linger a bit longer, as both James and Regulus pull out their cards at the cash register. Being a very wise man, Hakeem registers the amount into the terminal and swiftly turns away, well aware that nothing good ever comes from getting involved.

James dismissively waves his hand. “You can put away your card, it’s on me.”

Of course, Regulus isn’t compliant in the slightest. “I made you feel obligated to stay longer than you intended, so it's only right that I pay.”

“I’m the one who invited you, come now.”

“And I’m the one responsible for making you miss out on dinner.”

“Nah. I told you, it was my fault. Seriously, I want to—”

He attempts to move closer, but Regulus also edges forward. Despite being shorter, Regulus exudes an air of authority that instinctively compels James to widen the gap between them and not bump into him. “And I insist.”

But luckily, James is taller and his arms are longer. “Gotta be quicker than that then.”

He extends his arm, shooting right past Regulus’ and taps his card against the terminal, smiling smugly when Regulus scowls up at him, not in the least impressed by his playing dirty. James’ lips part, a jab resting right on the tip of his tongue, something along the lines of ‘They don’t teach you this at fancy pants school?’ only for a chime to disrupt his train of thought.

Card declined.

“Low funds, Yakup,” Hakeem announces without looking over his shoulder like James isn’t sinking to his knees in embarrassment already. 

“You got paid four days ago,” Regulus murmurs at his side.

“Rent and utilities were due yesterday.” It nearly comes out in a whine.

“I doubt your rent takes up your whole salary.”

“I also had to pay off my credit card,” James grits out, fumbling through his wallet looking for some cash. In an alternative universe where they’re starred in some cartoon show, the poor faux leather division coughs up dust motes.

“Seriously? How much do you make?

“Might I remind you that you pay me.”

The way Regulus clutches onto his credit card, unlimited of course, one might think the poor thing is about to fold in half. James might as well, to be honest. “Move.”

“No.” His pride’s already been hurt. “Hakeem, can I pay in installments?”

“Only if you take young Khadija out on a date.”

James considers it for a moment, but Regulus the comment only makes Regulus seethe further, “Potter, if you don’t move I’ll give you a reason to worry.”

That’s enough to convince James. He steps away, all kicked puppy-like, and watches how Regulus’ payment gets processed far quicker. “Next time’s on me.”

Regulus rolls his eyes, even as the apples of his cheeks dust pink. “Come, I’m tired and want to go home.”

[sunmoonyandstars]

getting all warm and fuzzy abt jegulus again <3

[johndhu]

Judy's grandmother is playing host to her and V for a few days visit after V's cured. V's been left alone with Ainara while Judy changes to go out for a picnic lunch. V doesn't really know what to say.

A: V?

V: Uh, y-yes? Mrs. Alvarez?

A: *warmly* I've told you, mija, you can call me abuela.

V: Right, sorry. Ah, you can call me Valerie.

A: *approving* Mmm. Valerie. *takes V's hand.* I can see you and my granddaughter are very much in love. You told me once you wanted "happily ever after" for both of you. Do you still feel that way?

V: *pauses* Yes. Absolutely.

A: Good. Then I have something for you.

*She carefully slides her wedding ring off. It's worn, but sturdy and well cared for. She presses it into V's hand. V is stunned*

V: Woah. Mrs...abuela are you...?

A: It's been in the family for years. Don't lose it!

V: I...I don't...

A: You don't have to use it now. But I see the way you and my ranita look at each other. You're going to need it soon. *She closes V's fingers around the ring as she hears Judy coming back and winks at her.*

*Judy emerges, looking stunning in a yellow sundress.*

J: Ready to go, V?

V: Uuuh, wow.

J: *sigh* Don't laugh, it's hot out and it's all I had that was light.

V: *incredulous, voice almost fluttering* Why would I laugh? You look beautiful.

*Ainara gives V a sly, approving sideways look*

J: *beaming and blushing* c'mon, food's gettin' cold.

[terresdebrume]

"I just want something that's real," Crystal says.

She's tired of all the bullshit around here and she's looking for something good, something nice.

And Charles? Well. Charles wants to be alive, and he wants to matter, and he wants to have something to stay for that's more than the way he died. He wants to help, is the thing, he wants to make things right. He wants to make things better.

But Niko doesn't need him for anything, and Edwin won't let Charles help with whatever is going on with him, and he didn't seem to want the only thing Charles had to give him. But Crystal. Crystal wants something that's real, and Charles wants to be alive.

So he kisses her, and it's like kissing cotton. Like the kisses he used to press into his pillow for practice, wondering what it would be like to be loved enough for that. But Crystal presses a hand to her lips, like they tingle or something.

"Did you even feel that?" She asks.

"No," Charles says, shrugging. "But it doesn't matter."

[Reblogs make the world go round. Consider reblogging this if you enjoyed the ficlet^^]

[formosusiniquis]

bela lugosi's dead

written for the @steddiemicrofic prompt: suck | wc: 480 | T | cw: none | tags: vampire!Steve

Like every good freak worth the nickname, Eddie made a habit of reading Dracula every Halloween. 

The first read led to closeted daydreaming about getting abducted by a handsome vampire. Letting himself poke at desires he hadn’t been ready to commit to. With age his fantasies and aesthetics matured, until he was the bloodsucking creature of the night stealing pretty boys away to give in to their secret temptations. So, if he's honest, he’s having a hard time dealing with life and the lemons it’s juggling off to the side of him.

“It isn't fair.”

“Hmm,” Steve, with his red puffer vest and his coordinating Nikes, sat across from him at some point in full view of Eddie’s misery over his annotated copy of Dracula.

“There's an aesthetic you're failing to appreciate and it isn't fair that you-”

“Are we going to do this every time?” He asks around the straw in his mouth, poked into a blood bag labeled ‘Robin:)’ like he’s sipping from a juice box.

“Until you stop dressing like a JCPenney catalog model, or vampires become lame, yeah we probably are, Harrington.”

“Fine,” he sighs, having the decency to pull the blood bag away from his face, “I'm sorry that you had to have five blood transfusions and basically have new, non-vampire blood. No one has ever suffered the way you, Eddie Munson, have.”

“You're being sarcastic, but I have suffered so apology accepted, Stevie.”

“Now you.” Steve prompts, gesturing with the bag in his hands.

“Now me what?”

Steve sits up, a languid move that makes Eddie’s prey brain sit up at attention and his horny boy brain poke its head up too. “Say I'm sorry, Steve, that you had to save the world for the fourth time so a bunch of freaky bat venom metastasized-”

“You absolutely stole that word from Henderson,” breathless, the jab doesn’t carry the weight it could.

“-in your bloodstream and combined with the remains of the experimental Soviet drugs and now," He crawls closer, "you can't eat garlic anymore.”

“That's the hang up for you? Not the blood drinking?”

“I'm Italian, I can’t eat anything anymore. Sure I can supplement the blood with raw meat, but what’s the point if everything is poorly seasoned.” Blood bag all but forgotten in the arm chair, he has Eddie pinned in place looming overtop of him, talking shit about what he’ll never be able to eat again.

The white collar of Steve’s t-shirt is visible beneath the color-block vest, even that isn’t enough to stop his brain from screaming predator on repeat. Supernaturally strong, it doesn’t take more than a hand on the shoulder to push Eddie down horizontal on the couch. He has to feel Eddie’s heart beat, the way it pounds in his chest as Steve noses up the collarbone to his neck. “Really does suck for me, huh baby?”

[jadedexp]

Eternal

Jegulus Microfic - 602 words // Slightly mature // It was just a little scenario I couldn't get out of my head ;)

It’s so beautiful, he thought.

The sun was setting, and it painted the sky a mirage of pink, purple and yellow. And it was so beautiful.

Regulus felt his boyfriend’s arms wrap around his waist, settling him into his lap. His back pressed against their warm chest, with only the thin towel wrapped around his body to separate them.

They decided to go on a ‘spontaneous’ trip.

In truth they just ran away. Their little secret got out and now sides were being chosen, unwanted opinions being expressed, and angry brothers and friends needed to be coddled.

They’d just wanted time. Time to figure out whatever the fuck this was or what to do next that would please everyone but themselves.

Time to just be together without so many eyes watching.

So that’s what they did. They hurried to book a flight to some remote island and fucked off together.

It was so cliché, and it was them.

“What’re thinking about, hm?”

Regulus tore his eyes from the sunset and looked back at James. He wasn’t wearing his glasses; it somehow made his eyes seem even bigger and more devastating now. He stared at the light that reflected off those brown eyes, making them look like twin sun pools.

After 3 years of being in love with this man in every way a person could be, he still managed to steal his breath away.

“You’re beautiful. You’re just so beautiful.”

James immediately grew shy and hid his face in Regulus’ neck. The grip on his waist tightened, like James couldn’t help but squeeze the life out of him.

When Regulus glanced down, he noticed a slight tremble in James’ hands. Gently, he placed his own over the trembling ones, finding the whole moment terribly endearing.

“Oh my god. I love you so much.”

A thousand butterflies erupted in his stomach at the admission and a wide smile had begun to bloom on his face.

It happened every time. Every. Single. Time.

“I don’t compare to you, though.” he murmured which got a curious hum out of Regulus.

James lifted his head from Regulus’ neck and gently turned him around so they could be face to face. He watched as James’ lifted a hand to his cheek, that wandered to his neck, with his thumb brushing lightly over Regulus’ throat.

“Do you know what I see when I look at you?” he said in a low voice, his gaze heavy with something indescribable.

Suddenly, it was hard to breathe.

“What?” he whispered.

 “An eternity.”

All the air had been sucked out of his body, leaving Regulus to only gape at the man in front of him. It wasn’t only the words that left him speechless, but it was also the realization that James’ was completely serious.

An eternity, he said. That’s what he sees in Regulus.

Oh god, what is this idiot doing to me? Oh god-

Regulus smashed his lips against his, the intensity of it making him lightheaded. James gripped his waist and pulled him in closer, responding back to his desperate kisses almost immediately. Their fingers tangled in each other’s hair as their mouths molded together, sharing the same breath.

For that moment, everything had faded away. Nothing mattered but the two of them. The thought of eternityplayed on repeat in his head, even as he was picked up, even when James laid him out on the bed for hours. Every kiss, every moan, and every shudder of pleasure they shared was like a promise.

Eternity, eternity, eternity….

A promise that Regulus was willing to do anything to keep.

[fruchtfleisch-art]

It's been a little quiet around here, but I promise I'm still writing! This fic is going to be a 20k monster at the very least (my final drafts are always longer than my first drafts), and I've been trying to make it to the finish line this month so I can start the long, long process of shaping it into something readable. Have some snippets of weird little boys, past and present!

[insecuregodcomplex]

23, firstprince for the microfic if you'd like! 🥰🥰

roop hello!! anything for you <3

23. sated

“Fuck, Hen, I don't know if I can take much more,” Alex groans, heaving a sigh. Henry smiles, wiping his lips with his fingers. “Oh, really?” he challenges. “I think you can.” Alex's head lolls slightly as he gives Henry a dazed smirk. “Well, you know I can't say no to that pretty face.” “Good boy,” Henry kisses the top of his head as he moves around. Alex feels his face flush, raking his eyes up and down Henry's figure. “You're spoiling me tonight, baby,” Alex says, licking his lips. “Well, it is our anniversary, love.” Henry smiles as he makes his way into the kitchen. “And I think I've almost mastered your father's tres leches recipe.” Alex looks at their table, full of empty dishes from the delicious meal Henry had made them. He moves the knot down of his already loosened tie and slumps further into his seat. As Henry walks back in, a plate with soft cake in each hand, Alex flutters his eyelashes. “I could just have you for dessert.” Henry chuckles, pursing his lips as he places Alex's plate in front of him. “Later,” he whispers in Alex's ear, biting it before quickly soothing the mark with a kiss. Alex eagerly begins to devour his slice.

microstory prompts

[decaflondonfog]

day 5/30 of 30 microfics in 30 days

i’m so sorry that i’m like this i can’t believe i saw towel and immediately went… cum cleanup it is :////// it’s v soft and actually mostly sfw

JEAN/NEIL • TOWEL for @/rwnjum on twt

[taste-thewaste]

15 and 31 either together or two separate prompts!

(i did 15 so i'm going for 31! breeze)

The hammock is stretched between Henry's favorite two trees on the property of their place in Austin, and Alex lies in his arms, collapsed against his chest. He'd been up all night working on a case and he'd barely slept, claiming he was fine, but as soon as Henry suggested a lie down in the hammock, he'd been out like a light.

The warm summer breeze ruffles Alex's hair, and Henry is mesmerized at the way his brown curls move gently with it. He wants to run his fingers through them, but he stops himself, lets Alex sleep. The beauty of their life together is that there's time enough for everything.

[padfootastic]

Day 31 - Color

written for @prongsfoot-microfic (tis a soulmate AU this time!!!)

Sirius always knew how his life would go. He came into the world seeing black and white, like everyone else, and he’d go out of it the same way, unlike everyone else.

What, after all, was there for people like him who didn’t have a soulmate out there?

You wretched boy, you don’t deserve one.

Not color, that was for sure.

Unloved, a burden, useless to everyone around you.

And he was okay with it, really. He’d grown up with the finest in life, never wanting for anything (except what a man really needed), perhaps a bit rougher up here and there but intact, in the end.

Who would ever want you?

He’d gotten used to dealing with the pity when he couldn’t identify the color of the sky, the oceans, his lover’s eyes. It was fine, he was fine.

He was unloveable, and the sky was an unremarkable grey and the sun rose in the east. A constant mantra in his heart, etched into his his soul. Unforgettable.

He was fine.

Until he met James Potter. And then suddenly, he wasn’t.

The first time they kissed, starbursts of color branded the inside of his eyelids, making him cry out in pain and agony and such delirious hope that he’d scared James into desperate panic. He could remember hands fluttering around him, helpless to do anything but watch him fight the feeling, even as he was going through the same. He remembered the tenderness with which James kissed his eyelids, his tears, over and over and over again, the entire night.

He could feel the shackles around his heart breaking, slowly crumbling into dust every time he touched James. Could see his mother’s words fade away into nothingness. The orange and pink and purples of the evening sky, the blue and black and green of the oceans, the hazel of his soulmate’s eyes.

Not grey, though, not ever, not as long as he had James.

Sirius never took his colors for granted after that.

[sugarsnappeases]

the exes to lovers was gonna be soooo cunty!! pinky promise!! i had the line "you're deeply unpleasant. like, as a person. did you know that?" but then i wrote down the words "old habits die hard" and my hand slipped ://

oh i believe you wholeheartedly mil!!!! that line is so so so cunty . but then i thought the whole ‘what’s your damage’ thing was cunty and that didn’t preclude it from also being one of the most devastating things i’ve ever read….. do you still?? say yes say yes say yes <- i think about that a slightly concerning amount . will never be normal about it . i reread that microfic so often and it makes me DEEPLY UNWELL!!!!!

anyway that line is super mega cunty i agree and ur exes to lovers jeg remains my favourite type of jeg ever and i’m very excited for if you ever share any more….. what you just posted was sick and fucking twisted tho…… loving regulus is muscle memory…. ohhhhhhhh jesus fucking christ

[loop-deloo]

not right

short and sweet?

no neither of those things. well i suppose it’s a kind of short but us CW for azkaban and Sad Times 

for prompt “justice” @wolfstarmicrofic

“This isn’t right,” Remus mutters, mostly to himself but Sirius responds anyway.

“It’s fine, Moony.” His voice is already a bit hoarse and he’s only been behind these wretched bars for a few days.

Remus looks up, eyes sharp, “It is not fine, how could you say that?” He notices that Sirius looks tired and he hopes to Merlin he’s wrong but Sirius does look a little… scared? Surely not of Remus. He softens his tone anyway, “This is a huge miscarriage of justice. This isn’t even justice. I mean, what the hell?”

“Who ever said the wizarding legal system was just?” Sirius says with an emotionless chuckle, “Half my bloody family has been in the Wizengamot.”

“Don’t, I’m getting you out of here.” Remus says it fiercely but the crack on the last word gives him away. Sirius looks up with the saddest bloody eyes Remus has even seen, and was that? Pity? For Remus?? Sirius was the one locked up in bloody Azkaban.

“I’m getting you out.” He says it with finality, then he turns. He plans to walk down the hallway with purpose, to cement his message but he can’t help himself, he turns around—just for a second, “I love you, Padfoot, I love you.”

[my-castles-crumbling]

constellation - @jegulus-microfic - word count: 201

Regulus was stunning today.

Not that he wasn't beautiful every day. But today he was...extra beautiful. His dark curls falling in his face as he laughed at something his friend said, his pale collarbones showing slightly in the open v of the gray collared shirt he wore that perfectly complimented his eyes.

James tried to stop his mouth from watering.

"Merlin, Prongs, just go ask him out, already," Sirius's voice cut into his thoughts, making him jump.

"Wh-I-er," James stuttered nervously. Sirius didn't know how he felt about Regulus. Surely he didn't know? "Who?" he asked after clearing this throat, trying to keep his voice steady.

But Sirius rolled his eyes and jutted his chin toward the Slytherin table. "My prat of a brother. You're obsessed."

"I am no-" James tried to argue, though the way his face heated up let him know there was no way he'd get away with the lie.

"James," Sirius interrupted him, giving him a disbelieving look. "The other day, you asked me where the Regulus constellation is."

"So?" he asked, voice going high. "Maybe I wanted to learn Astronomy!"

"Regulus is a star, you idiot," Sirius retorted, rolling his eyes. "And you are disgustingly obvious."

[villain-crown]

forbid | @jegulus-microfic | words: 657

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

a Jegulus nurse!AU

The thing about calling a code blue was that it could quickly turn into social hour if you weren’t careful. Mates that you hadn’t seen in awhile came out of the woodwork from all over the hospital to get in on the action, leading to a sort of impromptu reunion over the patient you were working to snatch from the claws of death.

“Lily! Oh my god, I haven’t seen you in ages—“

“Dorcas! What unit are you on these days?”

“Oi, Barty, I thought they fired you!”

Like now, apparently, as every person James had ever fucking met decided to grab a front row seat to spectate as he tried to make small talk with Regulus Black.

“It was a lovely day yesterday,” James began when they’d finished delivering a second shock to their patient. “The sun was out. Do you get out much, Regulus?”

James could feel Sirius’s suspicious gaze as Regulus glanced incredulously away from the new rhythm tracing itself on the cardiac monitor.

Still v. fib.

“…No. Sirius locks me in my bedroom and just lets me out four days a week when it’s time for me to be here—what the fuck kind of question is that, Potter!?”

Bloody hell, but Dorcas had clearly lied to Marlene about Regulus’s personality.

Sweet, Dorcas had called him.

No. This was a feral devil cat with a mouth full of knives and Merlin save him but James was so fucking into it.

“I wouldn’t rule that out,” Barty Crouch Jr. butted in unnecessary, watching Regulus’s vitriol land with an entertained expression. “One time I asked Reg if he wanted to check out my new apartment and Black threatened to peel my face off and put it on the CPR mannequin. I still haven’t gotten a proper answer.”

“There’s no need for him to go anywhere with you unsupervised, Crouch,” Sirius scowled, turning up the energy level of the defibrillator for their next attempt. “Just describe it to him.”

“Describe it? Well, okay. Picture it, Reg. You and Evan, in my bed—“

“Stop messing with him, idiot,” Regulus rolled his eyes, finally shoving Crouch’s arm off his delicate shoulders as Sirius picked up a spare saline flush and squirted it right in the blond’s face. To Sirius, he added, “he’s just trying to get a rise out of you, you know.”

“I’m calling HR you fucking asshole!”

“Fine, if you want to play that game. I’m sure they’d love to hear about you taking it from Lupin in the supply room last month.”

“Reggie! You can’t say dirty things like that! I forbid it!”

“I say a lot worse under the right circumstances, Sirius.”

James felt a flash of lightning race down his spine as Regulus maintained unwavering eye contact with him as he said so, ignoring Sirius’s outraged sputtering.

“I told you not to let Sirius catch you looking at his baby brother,” Marlene pointed out in an undertone, sidling up to James in the already crowded room.

“He’s bloody perfect.” James replied, unrepentant. “I’m going to marry him.”

“Dorcas called him sweet. I’m not getting that vibe.”

“Maybe he just needs a little… persuading.”

Marlene rolled her eyes, opening the airway drawer of the crash cart at Dorcas’s behest. “He’s mean, James.”

“He’s pretty, Marlene.”

“…You aren’t going to see reason, are you?”

“Absolutely not. Regulus Black is going to have my children.”

She looked back at the petite man with obvious misgivings. “If he doesn’t kill you first.”

“He could carve his initials into me with a scalpel and I’d thank him.”

“…You’re fucking crazy.”