#bella's microfics

[uncertainwallflower]

GIGGLING GROWN MEN For @jilymicrofics March 2024. Prompt: horrified. Words: 447.

“What did you do?” hissed Lily in her most venomous whisper, watching, horror-stricken, as Sirius and Peter totted her husband—one of his arms slung over a shoulder each—down the little pathway from the gate to the front door in which she stood. Amendment: her very drunk, very nearly unconscious, and very bald husband.

Remus, who made up the rear, shutting the gate—which he dwarfed with his long lean frame—behind him, shyly offered what to Lily was no explanation at all but to the boys—not men, boys—supporting James was funny enough to nearly drop him into the azaleas. “Sirius bet him his broom he couldn’t down a bottle of firewhisky then walk across the river and back.”

“On the ledge!” adding a guffawing, evidently also pissed, Sirius.

“Yes, on the ledge.”

A million and one thoughts raced through Lily’s mind. Did he really drink the whole bottle? What if he drowned? How fast was the river? He’s probably got alcohol poisoning! What was the spell charm to induce vomiting? Had they had dinner like they planned? What if he caught hyperthermia? Oh, god, he definitely had alcohol poisoning. Why are they so stupid? She gnawed at her bottom lip, flattening herself against the doorjamp to allow the giggling grown men into her hallway. They carried James through to the small loungeroom and dropped him on the small sofa, his long limbs sprawling out in his mindless state, then deposited themselves in various squashy spots about the room; and Lily picked her way around and over their legs to reach James, pressing a cool hand to his warm cheek.

He peeked a bleary eye open, probably only enough to gauge light and shadow. His glasses were bent and smeared with algae. He cracked a grin. “Lily.”

“Hello, love.”

His smile fell away and he frowned, closing his eyes again with a groan as he pressed his cheek into her palm. “It’s all his fault,” he said to no one and everyone, but probably meaning the one who proceeded to kick out at his foot. James muttered a groggy “Fuck off, Sirius” and Lily sighed, turning on the other three. She pulled her palm from James’s cheek—he protested with a whine, reaching blindly out for her—and set both hand on hips, brows raised.

“And what happened to his hair?”

James paused his search for his wife and reached instead for his scalp which sported a few uneven tufts and fair amount of short stubble, the result a poorly—or intoxicatedly—performed sheering charm.

Sirius and Peter fell into another fit of giggles and Remus sighed heavily. “That would be the other bet.”

AO3

[bellaxisworld]

april 19 @jegulus-microfic prompt: class. word count: 461

Regulus is walking to his next lesson when an invisible hand latches onto his wrist and drags him into a broom closet. He’s sputtering, cheeks flushed and eyes flashing in anger before he realizes only one foolish man in this castle would dare to lay a hand on him. His heart flutters in his chest.

It’s dark in the closet, and he’s caught off guard when warm hands frame his face and pull him into a gentle kiss. Regulus melts into him, chest pressed to chest, beating hearts thundering in tandem as he floats away, tugged gently into the clouds he frequents when he’s held so lovingly, when he's kissed with something akin to worship. It’s Regulus’ favorite thing to do—to kiss this boy, to feel him move and sigh under the palms of his hands, to touch and touch and remind himself this moment is real. He loves kissing James Potter more than breathing. 

Unfortunately for him, he has a difficult time articulating his devotion and adoration of James. But he thinks James knows, anyway. Regulus thinks he looks at James with so much love in his eyes, it would be impossible not to. 

“Jamie,” he whispers between kisses, and he feels the smile against his skin. He allows James to pull him closer, and he thanks the universe for the mere strength it takes not to crumble as James practically devours him in kisses. He’s a mess, limbs loose and heart hammering as he lets James take, and take, and take. Regulus simply can’t be faulted if he wants James’ mark on him forever. He’d let James take gory little bites out of him, consume him whole, just to taste him on his lips; he wants James' bitemarks scarring his skin. Regulus doesn’t want to exist if he can't exist as a monument of James, as an altar of their love.

They break apart for air and he leans his head against James’ shoulder, pressing little kisses against his skin. He breathes in, and he hopes every inch of his lungs are coated in the essence of James. 

Regulus reluctantly pulls away, straightens his robes, rights James’ tie, and picks up his fallen bag. He fixes a stern look at James, refusing to melt at the sight of his bright smile. “I can’t believe you’re pulling me into closets for a mere cheeky snog. Have some class, Potter.” 

James shakes his head fondly, because they both know Regulus appreciates it every time he drags him away, pulls him into comforting arms to escape into a bubble that’s only for them.

Regulus softens, crowding James again to pepper his face in quick kisses. He takes great pride in the blush on James’ cheeks as he reaches for the door.

more microfics posted on ao3: here.

[ecstarry]

"Regulus' collection" a microfic for my love, @bellaxisworld

Regulus had been collecting them for a while—his Sylvanian Families collection, that is. It all began with gifts from Sirius. The first one was a little raccoon, and Sirius had carefully wrapped it for him before leaving for school ten years ago. Each time his brother visited for the holidays, he would add another one to Regulus' collection.

He had never felt embarrassed of them, not until now, at twenty-one years old, with a shelf displaying them in an apartment where his brother’s hottest friend would be coming over. They were about to host their first dinner since leaving their parents' home, and Regulus had gladly obliged, anything to make his brother happy. But now, as those little shits looked back at him from the dustless shelf, he couldn't help but feel embarrassed.

Regulus had been crushing on James for as long as he could remember. They had seen each other not more than three times, which meant he had experienced the warmth of the sun in close proximity that same amount of times. And Regulus hated the cold.

When Sirius insisted on them living together, he was also adamant about their home feeling like a place where they both existed. It was actually his idea to have his collection on display. Now, Regulus wonders if his brother's plan had been to humiliate him all along.

He tried discreetly covering them with anything, even willing to shove them all inside a drawer. But as he grabbed the first one, his brother stopped him.

"What are you doing, Reg?" Sirius laughed a little as Regulus blushed.

"Nothing, but I just don't want your friend to think I'm lame," Regulus replied quietly, his gaze stuck on his shoes.

"Remus has seen your collection millions of times, Reg. It's just James who—" his brother stopped talking, and Regulus dared to look back at him, guilt all over his face.

"Reggie, do you care what James thinks?" Sirius' tone was much more gentle than Regulus had expected.

"So what if I do?" and at the response, Sirius' eyes softened.

"No, fuck no. Don't look at me like that. I don't like James or his stupid smile."

"Reg-"

"I know, I know! Of course, I care what James thinks, now help me hide them, but be careful!" Regulus started delicately placing them in a drawer, but Sirius' grip stopped him once more.

"Do you want to know a secret?"

"Sirius, we don't have time-"

"James has a collection of his own."

Regulus smiled but quickly called his brother's bluff, "you're just trying to make me feel better."

"I would never lie about a Sylvanian Families collection! I swear on Moony!" Sirius drew a cross around his heart.

Before Regulus could protest any longer, they heard a knock on the door.

It was James. Handsome and perfect James, who brought flowers and exquisite wine for dinner.

It was James. Adorable and kind James, who complimented Regulus' collection all night and insisted it was much better curated than James'.

It was James. Lovely and breathtaking James who would one day have a shelf next to Regulus' for his own collection.

[maesterchill]

More than anything

Written for @drarrymicrofic prompt 'Walk Me Home' by P!nk and dedicated to my wonderful friend @shealwaysreads on her birthday. Hope you feel miles better soon, lovely xxx (Mature-ish, ~400 words)

It’s weird, the way it happens. There’s no dramatic moment, no climactic first kiss as the music swells. It’s Harry and Malfoy, after Friday pub night, after everyone else has headed home and Tom's flickering the light. And Malfoy simply says, “I'll walk you home.” 

Two firewhiskys and a very nice fuck later, Malfoy puts his arms around Harry from behind and says, “Had you ever thought about this before? Us?”

Harry nods. “'Course.” He’s wanted Malfoy more than anything.

They’re still naked and looking out the window at the sky starting to brighten into morning. It'll be another hot June day. 

Malfoy hums, placing a kiss on his shoulder. “I should probably confess, I’ve thought about this for a long time. Never thought you’d ever actually—heh, well.” He shakes his head. “Here we are now. I should focus on that.”

“I– yeah.” Harry doesn’t know what to say. There’s a knot of nerves inside his chest that he doesn’t know how to dislodge. “Yeah, here we are.”

“Try to sound a little bit happy about it,” Malfoy says with a sniff. “Merlin, Potter, it’s not like I held a wand to your throat last night and forced you to swallow my come. Though, if you’re into that…”

Harry snorts. “Yeah… maybe leave that for next time.”  

“Ah, so there'll be a next time? Well, that is excellent news.” Malfoy's soft cock twitches against Harry's buttock.

Harry goes rigid. Malfoy notices. “You’re freaking out inside that head of yours. You probably want me to go.” He draws his arms away.

Harry misses the skin contact. “No,” he says. He wants this, exactly this, more than anything. That’s the problem. “No. Stay. I just… I don’t know how—” He sighs. “I’m not good at this, Malfoy. I might fuck it up.”

“I'm not sure you've noticed, but I have a long history of fucking things up. Especially good things.”

Harry turns to face Malfoy, who's still squinting out into the murk of dawn. “Do you think we could be a good thing?” 

Malfoy turns his eyes to Harry, and Harry sees the green of his own eyes reflected in the silvery grey. “I do, as a matter of fact.”

“Show me.”

Malfoy cups Harry's face in his palms, leans in with his soft mouth, and shows him how good they can be, which is what Harry wants more than anything.

[theicarusconstellation]

hi astra!! can i request a drabble for number 93, please? i don't mind if it is either jegulus or lilycissa 🫶

bella!! sorry this took so long lmao but here you go!!

prompt: “I tried, but I just can’t stay away from you anymore” // jegulus and background lilycissa // sfw // words: 1,286

They know much they risk by doing this. They know that putting themselves in this situation can ruin their lives more than they already have on their own. Lily has enough to worry about with Petunia’s upcoming wedding, a wedding which she had been promptly uninvited to after Petunia saw her in her bridesmaid’s dress and thought she looked prettier than her. Regulus has…a cult. Well, he has the broken remains of a former cult that has sent many lives into spirals, and it is now his responsibility to clean up the mess.

A mess Lily could end up wrapped up in if they continue on this path.

Still, this does not deter them.

“She usually stops by Honeydukes to pick up something for Draco at this hour,” Regulus says to Lily under his breath as they walk along the roads of Hogsmeade. His boots clunk against the cobbled streets, alerting anyone in their vicinity that they should hurry away now or risk losing an eye.

“Draco,” Lily whispers, the name wistful upon her lips. “He must be about three now.”

“He is.” Regulus nods his head in confirmation. Merlin, the last time Lily saw Draco was when he was just born, when Narcissa called her at an unholy hour and shattered her world.

“We can’t see one another anymore. I have a child now, Lily. I — we can’t do this.”

Regulus did not experience this firsthand, but he witnessed it through a Pensieve as Lily, too distraught to speak, dragged him through her memory of the endeavor.

Two days later, Regulus made a very similar phone call to one James Potter.

“We can’t see one another anymore. What I’m doing is dangerous, James. I — we can’t do this.”

But now, three years later, thanks to the work of Regulus and Lily, Voldemort is dead. Lucius Malfoy is in Azkaban. The world is safe again, and all is well.

Mostly.

Nearly.

Not at all.

There is still a gaping wound where Regulus’ heart used to be, a constriction where he used to be able to breathe. He still catches Lily crying and staring at old photographs, though she hides them as soon as she feels his eyes on her.

“Can you at least tell me what you’re doing that’s so dangerous? Can you give me that?”

“I…can’t.”

“You can’t, or you won’t?”

Regulus freezes in his tracks as the memory of The Phone Call comes racing back. Now is not the time to relive the worst decision of his life, yet his mind has apparently decided that the setting is perfect. He leans into Lily’s hand on his shoulder, trying to utilize the Muggle grounding techniques she taught him, but the closer they draw to Zonko’s and Honeydukes, the larger the pit of dread in his stomach grows.

“He misses you, Regulus,” Lily says gently. “He hasn’t been the same. Three years, and he hasn’t been the same. He hasn’t…if anyone so much as looks at him like they want to flirt with him, he snaps at them that he’s taken and proceeds to cry over you in the nearest bathroom.”

It’s the same words she’s told him twenty times before, but this time, they actually stick. Not because he believes them — Regulus thinks they’re pure bullshit. There is no way James Potter doesn’t have a family of four by now. If anyone could conjure up a family of four in the span of three years, it would be him. However, he knows that feeling. He knows the shame that comes with getting a suggestive glance from a stranger long after their relationship had supposedly “ended.” It gnaws at him until he’s keeled over a toilet bowl, vomiting up his guilt and grief.

“He’ll be leaving Zonko’s any minute,” Lily nudges, slightly more urgent now. In response to her words, Regulus strangles the sash of his satchel and draws his breath in a shaky inhale.

“I’m not ready for this.”

“Yes you are.”

She says it with such firmness that it’s startling.

“Go see him, Regulus. Go see James.”

Regulus shakes his head, then nods, then breaks through the ice around his joints and forces his legs to move.

He retains no memory of the walk to the joke shop. One moment, he is with Lily, the next, his neck is snapping up at the sound of the Zonko’s door bell, effectively announcing his presence to the entire shop.

Up at the checkout counter, a bag of Galleons slips out of a familiar hand and falls to the ground.

Regulus’ eyes follow the sound of tinkling coins against the wooden floorboards. They travel up to meet hazel irises behind circular glasses that he has dreamt of endlessly since The Phone Call three years ago.

Those eyes. Those tender eyes, so free of any resentment, so ready to hold him once again.

James’ eyes.

The cashier is saying something the other man doesn’t seem to register; Regulus doesn’t hear it either, not with the static in his ears that threatens to overtake his vision as well.

James — his James, his one and only James, the James he has missed every night for 1095 days — leaves the counter behind and steps toward him. Regulus backs up, not to get away but to lead them outside, and stumbles into the snow.

The door closes behind James, and the noise makes the both of them jump. The air around them is fragile, suspended, able to shatter at any moment.

“I tried,” Regulus croaks out. James waits, always so, so patient, for him to continue. “I tried so fucking hard, but I just can’t stay away from you anymore.”

James laughs, a great, big grin breaking out on his face, and it is the most beautiful sound Regulus has ever heard.

“Thank fuck,” the man whispers, his smile only continuing to grow. “I don’t know if I could have waited much longer before…before I chased after you myself.”

Regulus’ eyes widen, and he tentatively shuffles forward into James’ space.

“Waited?” His breath passes his parted lips in a cloud of cold.

“What, you think I didn’t wait for you? You think I didn’t spend every day hoping I’d get a phone call telling me you were finally ready? Regulus, I have never stopped waiting for you. Not for a moment,” James vows, closing the space between them to cup Regulus’ cheeks between his palms. As soon as they make contact, Regulus releases something between a whine and a whimper and replays James’ words over and over in his head.

He waited. Three years, 1095 days, and James waited for every single one of them.

Regulus closes his eyes and breathes deep, willing himself to bring what he wants to say to the surface. This moment is everything he has wished for, everything he has fantasized about, so perfect that it feels unreal. He cannot fuck it up; he has to get it right.

“You asked me that night if I could tell you what I had to do, and I said I couldn’t. When I said that, I meant it, but now…James, I can tell you everything, and I want to…if you’ll let me.” Good. This is good. This sounds good. Doesn’t it?

“I’ll let you,” James mumbles. His hand moves, and Regulus nearly loses his footing when James’ gentle fingers tuck his curls behind his ear. “Fuck, baby, I’ve missed you.” This last sentence is more of a groan, one that sends warmth rushing down Regulus’ spine.

Regulus can think of nothing in response other than to fall forward against James’ chest and wrap his arms around him, finally allowing himself to feel warmth.

Finally allowing himself to come home.

[miss-grimwood]

'Where are you going?' - Bellamione

‘Where are you going?’

Delphi froze, spinning on her heel to see Bellatrix stood in the doorway.

‘I was just-’

‘Sneaking out,’ Bellatrix finished for her. ‘And doing a shit job of it. Do you know how loud you were?’

‘Did mum hear?’

‘No, she’s still asleep.’

Delphi breathed a sigh of relief.

‘Are you going to tell her?’

‘That depends. Are you going to go back to bed?’

'Obviously.'

Bellatrix pulled her close, bringing her into a hug.

'Please don't tell mum.' Delphi whispered.

'I won't. Now, stop being a twat and go to bed. This never happened, okay?'

@sapphicmicrofics

[theprongspotter]

24 Prompts til Christmas: Day 23

“Christmas or Halloween?” (Quillkiller)

“Trixie,” Rita calls from the kitchen. “Go ahead and put a Christmas movie on. I’ll be there in just a minute with the hot chocolate.”

Bellatrix doesn’t even need time to think about what Christmas movie to play— to her, there is only one good one out there. Without hesitation, she walks over to their dvd shelf and grabs The Nightmare Before Christmas. She slides the disc in and gets settled on the couch under blankets. She has the remote in her hand, ready to hit play whenever her fiancée returns to the living room.

Perfect timing, too, because Rita walks in with one mug of hot chocolate in each hand. She hands one to her fiancée and sits down on the couch beside her. She gets comfortable under the blankets, snuggled up against Bellatrix, and almost tells the raven haired woman to hit play on the remote before gasping. There is no way this is what they are watching.

“What? What’s wrong, love?” Bellatrix asks, looking at her fiancée.

“Trix, I said put on a Christmas movie.” Rita frowns. Perhaps Bellatrix just misheard her, but it still doesn’t make any sense. Why would Rita ask her to put on a Halloween movie?

“What do you mean? This is a Christmas movie, Reets.”

“No, it’s not! The whole movie is about Halloween,” she exclaims.

Bellatrix pauses for a moment, flabbergasted. “Are we talking about the same movie? It literally has ‘Christmas’ in the title and you’re going to tell me that it’s a Halloween movie?” She motions to the screen.

“Whatever,” Rita huffs, giving in. “Just hit play. I get to choose the next movie, though.”

“Alright, sweetheart.” Bellatrix grins, hitting play. Rita goes back to cuddling up against her and takes a sip of hot chocolate.

[st-clements-steps]

Bellatrix x Alice, Marble

for @salty-wench (I hope you don’t mind I stole the whole Regency backdrop)

There, in the middle of the octagonal room, is the little British honeymooner they met on the Ponte Vecchio yesterday. Her redcoat nowhere to be seen, her gaze absorbed by the central statue, that ripple of muscle and masculinity realised in marble by some anonymous Roman. It does nothing, in Bellatrix’s view, beyond its remarkable anatomic accuracy, as if the sculptor simply cast a spell over two entwined young men, set flesh into smooth, alluring stone.

Bellatrix steps softly to the girl, annnounces her presence with a gentle whisper, “does it pique you particularly?”

And despite that bloom of pink in the girl’s cheeks, her eyes are truthful enough as she shakes her head.

*

Two days later, amongst the wildflowers and the lazy buzz of bees, the sunshine idling over them, Bellatrix will find what does pique her. The blush will bloom not just roses on her cheeks but across her collarbones, her curled hair will splay across the borrowed blanket, her back will arch a little, her mouth will open with a ragged breath as Bella pulls out of a fervid kiss to admire her. And Bellatrix will wish she could capture her in marble, let all the tourists of Florence step around her piqued and envious at her devastating pleasure.

Send me a ship and a word if you want one.

[shealwaysreads]

Flushed

Draco used to be pale.

Before summer’s heat cracked them all open next to the lake.

Before angry words then quiet ones.

Before firewhiskey-loose tongues.

Before laughter, unbelievable laughter.

Before banked embers and heat low in the belly.

Before flushed cheeks, sun-wrought freckles, lips kissed pink, mouth-shaped bruises.

Before Harry.

Inspired by @drarrymicrofic’s prompt ‘pale’

Read all of my microfics here

To @sweet-s0rr0w @the-starryknight @tackytigerfic @maesterchill you all have my entire heart for reminding me I’m still a writer ❤️

[decaflondonfog]

day 18/30 of 30 microfics in 30 days

second-chance romance modern au bc i know what i’m about hjkgjhj i couldn’t make canon justice in 50 words but this fic idea is going to be my brain-cinema bedtime story for a long time i reckon

DAMEN/LAURENT • SERENDIPITY for @shealwaysreads

[star-named-riddle]

in the smallest pieces (there was still us)

Day 23 - Accident

Lord Voldemort liked watching Bellatrix sleep.

He had always liked the way she lied there, her body devoid of tension, her face at ease. Her steady breathing, the rise and fall of her ribcage.

He often watched her sleep as he lay by her side, unable to sleep himself. He had envied her, then. She would drift into sleep easily. She still did, even now, plagued by nightmares that would rouse her in a frenzied state.

This new shape of his had even less need of sleep, and he made sure to use those hours well into the night.

Not tonight. He wished not for books nor new knowledge. He wished only for the sight of her.

He had found her on her side, facing the void where he belonged. Not alone, though.

Nagini was with her, her heavy body carefully arranged around Bella’s, her head sitting on the curve of her waist. That delightful curve he knew so well, now disguised by her growing belly.

Not an accident, but something he had willingly given her. Given himself, too.

Nagini hissed, and drew her coils closer to Bella. A child that he would inevitably take from the both of them.

Also on AO3

[uncertainwallflower]

HOW DID I MISS THIS????!!!! 😍😂

11. ❛ if you called just to get off on my voice, i’m hanging up. ❜

With love,

Lily exposed James to the delights of the Muggle Telliephone on Wednesday and by Saturday he had the things mastered.

"Hello. Lily speaking."

His response was gravelly and somewhat hushed: "Oh good, I was worried your sister was going to pick up."

Lily laughed, twisting the cord around her finger and leaning a bony shoulder against the wall. "She's gone out with Vernon. Can I ask who's calling?"

"Voice doesn't give me away? Nor knowing that you have a sister? Goes by the name Petunia? Dating a hideous lump?"

Another laugh. "Afraid not. Pays to be sure you know, any old perv could be calling."

"Are you calling me a perv?"

"Might be."

She heard the brush of clothes as he rearranged his limbs—probably in indignation—then, in a tone that screamed upturned-chin, said: "Fair enough. Go on then, love, tell us what you're wearing."

She snorted at that. "How do you even know how to ask that?"

"Darling, you underestimate me."

A hum. "That much is apparently true."

He was chuckling too but the resonant twang of his voice denoted the underlying motive. "But really, what’re you wearing?"

"James Potter, if you called just to get off on my voice, I’m hanging up." She very nearly did, pulling the handset away from her ear and going to slam it back on the receiver knowing he'd get an earful of plastic and have to pay to call again.

But he cried, voice all crackly through the distance, "Wait, wait!" and her ear was back against the receiver, turning red then white with the pressure as he gravelled: "I can be over in five minutes. Just promise you won't be wearing anything when I get there."

She was quick to warn him off—but her heart wasn't in it—with a lousy, somewhat nasal, "Petunia will be back soon."

She could practically hear his smirk through the phone. "I can be quick."

@jilymicrofics

[bellaxisworld]

february 1, @jegulus-microfic prompt: shower. 495 words.

“Reg, I promise,” James whined, dramatic and huffy.

Regulus glared at him, arms crossed over his chest. He stood at about six inches shorter than James, but it never stopped Reg from putting all of his outrage into those glares. James personally thought he looked like an angry little bunny, and he usually booped his nose when he tried to look so intimidating.

“James. You always fall asleep. It’s practically a law of nature at this point. I can guarantee when I come out of the shower you will be passed out peacefully on the bed and miss another movie night.”

James pouted, putting all of his own energy into making adorable puppy eyes. (He knew Regulus would always fold. Poor boy never stood a chance.) James reached out a hand and tugged Regulus’ arms apart, hands clasping together. “Go shower, love. I know you can’t get in bed till you’re clean. I will be very patiently waiting in bed for you. And you will pick a movie and I will listen to all of your commentary the whole time and it’ll be wonderful. I love your movie choices, Mr. Film-Critic-Slash-Movie-Expert.” James grinned and kissed Regulus’ cheek. Reg softened a little at the kiss, leaning into James, and he knew he was right—he did need a shower—but he very sincerely doubted James’ ability to stay awake more than ten minutes without Reg to pester him.

Regulus kissed James’ shoulder(his eyeline was just at James’ collarbones and he didn’t feel like jumping up to kiss him with their appalling height difference) and he grumbled, “you always fall asleep when I’m in the shower,” before making his way to the bathroom. He rushed through the shower, still being thorough, hoping to find James awake and alert on the bed when he came back.

Regulus’ face cracked into a big and genuine smile when he saw James not in bed asleep, but walking around the room in circles, balancing a book on his head with a look of severe concentration on his lovely face. “Jamie,” Reg said, startling James into dropping the book. But James grinned easily back, and threw his arms up in a celebratory cheer.

“I’m awake! I walked around the whole time so I wouldn’t fall asleep. Time for our movie night!”

Regulus melted into a puddle, throwing his arms around James and dragging him onto the bed. He covered James’ face in loud smacking kisses and they both giggled. “Thank you, Jamie,” he whispered. James hummed, pressing close.

Regulus picked a movie and they curled up all comfy in bed, bodies warm and limbs tangled together. Regulus did comment on every interesting thing he noticed, and James might have fallen asleep within ten minutes, snoring softly and tucked into Regulus’ side like a cat. But Regulus didn’t mind one bit, still feeling oh-so-warm, because James tried so hard to stay awake while he took a shower. His boy was so sweet.

also found on ao3(multi-chapter microfic wip): february, i'm yours.

[ecstarry]

@jegulus-microfic / football / 768 words / @bellaxisworld i love you

--- here's a little kiss cam brainrot <3

"But I hate football, you know this," Regulus reiterated to a very persistent Remus over the phone.

“I know, but Sirius can’t make it and he doesn’t want the tickets to go to waste. It’s just one game,” Remus remarked with a hint of something that Regulus couldn’t quite place. 

That’s how he ended up at a Saturday sports match, hoping the players were hot; at least he would be entertained that way. He approached his seats and yelled Remus’ name, but someone else turned around: James.

“Reg? Why are you here? I thought I was meeting Siriu-” Regulus interrupted him, only a Potter could manage to insult him as he was greeting him.

“Nice to see you too James, well I thought I was meeting Remus. So you were also not who I expected to see.”

Before James could give a proper response, they both got a notification on their phone. Regulus looked at his screen to read Remus' quick text: Sorry, can’t make it. Have fun.

“I’m going to kill him,” Regulus mumbled. 

“Sirius just canceled on me. I’m guessing you got stood up too?” James asked kindly, but only received a mean glance in response.

In silence, they took their seats. Regulus was beyond pissed. How could Remus do this to him? He thought for a second that they might’ve been set up, but he thought this ruse was a bit dramatic even for Sirius’ standards.

“Do you like football?” James asked, breaking the silence.

“Detest it,” Regulus replied tersely, still too upset to entertain James’ attempt at conversation. When his brother’s best friend asked if he wanted anything to drink, he simply declined in a polite and quick manner.

But when James returned with his favorite treats and a wide smile to his seat, he couldn’t remember what he was upset about. Regulus felt a discreet blush work its way towards his cheeks as James handed him his favorite candy.

“Sirius mentioned you liked this, so I figured that if you were stuck with me and in a place you don’t want to be, you might as well get a sweet treat, no?” James said casually, as if remembering someone’s favorite candy was nothing.

To Regulus, it was such a significant gesture, but he couldn’t help but feel a little pathetic by how such a simple token could make him feel so warm. If he was honest, maybe it had more to do with who was giving him that attention than the piece of candy itself, but that was not the time to process that.

The game continued, and to Regulus's surprise, he found himself having more fun than he had expected. While Remus would have been good company, James was captivating in his own way. Despite not being a fan of football, Regulus made an effort to stay informed about the current games. A fact that he deliberately kept from James as the other man’s eyes lit up explaining everything. He never expected to be so absorbed in James’ words or thoughts or lips or eyes or arms or smile...

 Oh god, when did James Potter become so attractive?

“Regulus?” His name coming out James’ lips took him out his trace.

“Yes?”

"Kiss cam," James said, pointing at the screen in front of them. There they were, the two of them, with a crowd surrounding them, chanting for them to just kiss. Regulus felt as if seconds extended into hours as James's hand gently cupped his chin, his eyes silently asking for permission. An inaudible yes left Regulus's lips as the distance between them evaporated.

His hand instinctively reached for James' shirt, pulling him closer as if their lips touching was still too far a distance to bridge. He allowed himself this moment, the touch of an angel on a broken man. Every crevice of doubt within him was filled with warmth as James kept asking for more with his tongue. James parted slightly, and the absence of his lips made Regulus remember himself. Embarrassed, he started to pull away, but James held him tightly, his hands not leaving Regulus' face.

Regulus bravely opened his eyes to face the regret that was sure to be all over James’ face, but instead he found something else— something sweet and soft, something only honey eyes like James’ could convey. He was still light-headed from James’ touch, he couldn’t make sense of just how long he had been given access to heaven. 

But the reality remained: he had just kissed James Potter, who seemed just as delighted to have kissed Regulus Black.

Maybe football wasn’t that bad.

more microfics here

[rinndjarin]

You Can't Deny That View

Summary: Ellie contemplates the view and her new companion.

Word Count: 286

ao3

“Well, is it everything you hoped for?” asked Joel. This was the first time Ellie had seen a bit of softness in Joel’s gaze. In the short time that they have known each other, Ellie had only seen pain, distress, and anger. She couldn’t stop thinking about how he killed the FEDRA soldier by just pummeling him to death. So that was what Marlene meant; that’s what he was capable of. And Ellie liked it. She enjoyed seeing that soldier meet his end in such a savage way.

But now he was looking at her, and she saw none of the hardness. Slight annoyance? Perhaps. She knew that Tess and Joel didn’t want her. But she could not help but notice he was attempting to show some kindness. They had just escaped near death, and Tess was limping on a twisted ankle. And Joel was being nice. To her. To the smuggled cargo that would get them a battery.

“Jury’s still out. But man…you can’t deny that view.” Ellie meant it. She lived in the QZ her whole life, and had never once seen anything that could be considered a “view.” The most spectacle the QZ could offer was the public hangings which were so commonplace that they barely deserved a double take. But here and now, standing on top of a decrepit building in the middle of what was once Boston, Ellie saw something beautiful. The golden dome of the State House glistened in the warm, comforting rays of the setting sun. Had Ellie ever seen anything glisten before? She couldn’t recall. And come to think of it, Ellie had never seen a sunset before. The horizon hid behind the walls of the QZ.

[villain-crown]

regret | @jegulus-microfic | words: 1,255

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

a Jegulus nurse!AU

Despite his conviction, James did not end up mustering the courage to ask Regulus out that day. He almost managed to get there a few times, but then Sirius would just pop out of nowhere with some meaningless side quest for him to work on. Each time James had finished doing what was asked of him, Regulus had moved on to busy himself with something else.

The next morning, James finally accepted that he had been left with no choice.

He would have to physically visit the “dungeons” himself.

Standing in front of the doors to the Slytherin cardiovascular intensive care unit two floors below Gryffindor, James took a few slow, steadying breaths. It was his lunch break and he was determined to finally speak with Regulus without Sirius running constant interference.

Do you want to go out sometime? he rehearsed in his head, swiping his badge to gain admission through the doors. No… more assertive. Let's go out sometime. Yeah, yeah that’s good—

“Who the hell are you?”

James pulled his gaze to find a Slytherin with platinum blond hair looking him over from behind the nurses’ station counter. She was perfectly put together in designer forest-green scrubs with a matching stethoscope clipped to her waist and her badge was decorated with multiple pins outlining her various professional awards and accomplishments.

James rolled his eyes upon recognizing her. “Oh come on Narcissa, we’ve worked together for five years!”

“Fine. What do you want, Potter?”

“To talk to Regulus,” he declared bravely.

Narcissa lifted a perfectly manicured eyebrow. “He’s busy.”

“I know,” James replied quickly. “I just need like thirty seconds to—“

“Did they finish up the chest tube?” Narcissa interrupted him to address her sister, Andromeda, who had just exited the patient room right behind him.

“Yeah, Slughorn’s fellow finally gave up on the resident and just shoved it in himself. This whole river of nasty yellow pus shot out of her left lung. It was wild. Hey, James. What are you doing here?”

James blinked as the conversation suddenly twisted back around to include him. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, Narcissa cut him off.

“He’s here for Regulus, apparently.”

Suddenly, both of them were sizing him up. Their critical gaze made him wish he’d thought to iron his burgundy scrubs or something. “Have you told him what happened to the last guy who was ‘here for Regulus?’”

“C’mon guys, I just want to talk to him.”

“Talk to him or sleep with him?”

James jumped as Bellatrix, the third Black sister, appeared from fucking thin air right at his elbow.

“Bloody hell, Bellatrix, where did you even come from!?”

“Excuse you, you’re the one barging onto my unit trying to filch our baby cousin.”

“You just snuck—“

“Potter,” Narcissa interrupted impatiently, tapping her wristwatch. “We have a fresh heart coming in. You’ve got till then to convince us we won’t regret this.”

“Lunch,” James replied quickly, straightening up. “I just want to take him to lunch, I swear.”

“Are you single?”

James flinched. “W-what?”

Bellatrix snapped her fingers in his face. “You’ve got sixty seconds. Don’t waste our time. Are. You. Single?”

“Yes!”

“You like our little cousin?”

“Yes… ma’am.”

“Are you fucking anyone at the moment?”

“Bella!”

“Are you?”

“No!”

Bellatrix’s dark navy eyes bored into him like she wanted to crawl into his head and take a good long look around. “Hm. To the cafeteria and back only—and keep your hands to yourself or I’ll snap them off and use them to hold pressure on room 18’s hematoma. You’d better buy his lunch.”

James had just enough time to gape at the Black sisters before the double doors to the unit opened and a procession of operating room staff came inching through, a heavily sedated heart transplant patient transported among them.

Seizing the distraction, James backed away quickly to locate Regulus, who he found resetting his workspace after a procedure, preparing an incredibly unstable older man for the next rocky hour of hanging onto life. Partially-clotted blood stained the floor, hastily covered by surgical towels from when they’d inserted an emergency dialysis line in the patient’s neck. A machine to filter his blood had been set up near the ventilator.

Regulus looked very cute in his Slytherin-green jogger scrubs and soft fleece zip-up. The loose coal curls atop his head shifted with each turn of his neck and his slight frame just made James want to scoop him up and put him on his lap.

“What, Potter?” Regulus finally asked when he’d hovered in the hallway for over a minute, depositing the last of the capped needles into the sharps container.

Let's go out sometime, he coached himself. C’mon, Potter, you’ve got this! Let’s go out some—

“Lunch!” he blurted out. “Er, Bellatrix said you can take your lunch now.”

“What?” Regulus frowned, glancing at the clock. “It’s barely noon.”

“We should go,” James said quickly. “At the same time, I mean. Together.”

Regulus quirked a dark brow, his silver eyes sizing James up in the bright hospital lighting as he paused in changing his dialysis machine’s filter. “Together?”

“To the same place.”

“I’m not a bloody idiot. I know what ‘together’ means.”

“Great! Let’s go!”

Regulus tilted his head in amusement. “Listen, Potter… you’re a bit of an idiot so I’m going to spell this out for you.”

Oh please spell out “take me, I’m yours.”

“I don’t get any nicer than this and some of my needs aren’t easily met.”

James felt his heart rate pick up. Fuuuck, he was in trouble. Sirius was going to kill him. Bellatrix was going to throw him off the roof of the critical care tower. He really did just mean to ask Regulus to lunch; maybe get to know each other a bit, make plans for the weekend.

But the mouth on him!

“I’m very good at meeting needs.”

Regulus didn’t seem to buy that. “Really?” he drawled, looking James up and down with obvious doubt, making the Gryffindor bristle.

“What makes you think I can’t?”

“You strike me as a bit too… sweet; people please-y. You’re aware that my stupid brother has forbidden everyone in this hospital from making anything resembling a pass at me?”

“It’s just lunch.”

“Is it?”

“Do you want it to be?”

Regulus smirked, taking the three slow steps necessary to close the distance between them, pushing himself up on his toes to breathe in James’s ear.

“The things I like might be a bit much for you.”

“I think you’re really underestimating the things we’ve already done in my head.”

Coming back down on his heels, Regulus ran his tongue over his teeth before biting down on his lower lip. “Hm. I’m intrigued. Fine, I’ll get Snape to cover my patients. You’d better have more to offer than that dazed look on your face, Potter.”

With that, Regulus walked away.

…Holy shit.

HOLY SHIT!

He had a lunch date with Regulus Black!

Left alone with his raging thoughts and a sedated patient, James fumbled with his phone to send a frantic text.

To ‼️📣Marlene📣‼️:

If he meets my parents on Friday, I can propose on Saturday, and spend all of Sunday absolutely railing him.

Looks like I have weekend plans ❤️❤️❤️

From ‼️📣Marlene📣‼️:

There’s no saving you anymore, Potter. You have a death wish, and at this point, you frankly deserve it.

RIP when Sirius finds out what you’re doing ☠️