#extended microfic

[ultravioletbrit]

extended version of “coffee” microfic is up on ao3!

original micro:

[oh-phoenixx]

"Prison"/"Out" - Jegulus microfic @into-the-jeggyverse - 333 words

@abductedhiko

-

Regulus allowed himself these small moments of bliss, little pockets of peace, before the inevitable pain of going home. This was one of these moments; his head resting on his boyfriend’s chest, his fingers drawing lazy patterns on James’s stomach, and no noise save the soft music playing in the background. Every time James opened his mouth, Regulus worried that their tiny snippet of heaven would be interrupted. And every time, it was just ‘I love you’. Every time, until…

“Come home with me,” James whispered.

“What?” Regulus did not move his head from James’s chest for fear of truly ruining the moment.

“Leave that house, that- that prison. Come live with me and Sirius,” James practically pleaded.

But the moment was ruined, it had passed; Regulus lifted his head but did not look at James. When James sighed, Regulus knew he had anticipated this. Regulus wondered if his boyfriend was losing faith in him, and he felt sick with the thought of it. Without meeting James’s eyes, Regulus took a hold of his hand and brought it to his mouth, so softly that his lips merely brushed his knuckles more than they kissed them.

“It’s not a prison, Jamie,” Regulus told him, voice quiet and unsure. “They love me. They just…It’s how they were raised as well. They don’t know anything else.”

James sat up and rubbed soothing circles on Regulus’s back as he kissed his shoulder. For a moment, he didn’t say anything, seemingly trying to think of how to say this in a way that wouldn’t hurt Regulus. “I know you love them, Regulus. I’m not trying to…I’m not trying to say that that’s wrong. But I can’t watch you get hurt and do nothing about it.”

“You’re not doing nothing,” Regulus replied softly. “You’re here. That’s enough.”

For the next year that they were together, James tried to convince Regulus to come to his house for every holiday. Each time, Regulus turned him down.

Regulus never did get out.

[sliebman10]

Extended

"Moony…will you marry me?" Sirius kept his voice from shaking somehow as he gazed at Remus, against the backdrop of the setting sun.

The moment extended into eternity until Remus kissed the hand holding his and said, "Yes, of course."

Sirius slid the ring onto his finger, and Remus pulled him close, both laughing and crying at the same time.

Word count: 60

@wolfstarmicrofic

[my-castles-crumbling]

toad - jegulus microfic - @into-the-jeggyverse - word count: 251

“Stebbins,” Dorcas said slowly, only slurring her words a little.

Pandora, Barty, Evan, Regulus, and all held up their fists, identical thoughtful looks on their faces.

“Three, two, one, go!” Dorcas nearly-yelled, eagerly taking a sip from her bottle and looking around the circle.

Barty and Pandora each held up four fingers, while Evan, Dorcas, and Regulus held up three.

“Yeah, I’d go with a three, three-point-five,” Dorcas nodded sagely. “He’s fit, but not amazingly so.”

“He’s nice,” Pandora shrugged, sipping from her own drink.

“He’s a Hufflepuff,” Evan shivered, as if that caused him to dock Stebbins a point or two.

“Alright, my turn,” Barty said, grinning a malicious grin. “Potter.”

Little giggles and oos sounded around the room, while Regulus rolled his eyes.

“Three, two, one!” Barty called, eyes trained on Regulus, who kept his face unreadable.

Dorcas and Pandora both held up four fingers, while Evan and Barty were unashamedly grinning, all five fingers in the air. 

Regulus, however, kept his fist high, not a single finger extended.

“Zero, Reg?” Evan asked, tilting his head to the side.

“He’s vile,” Regulus responded, twisting his mouth in an expression so disgusted he might have just been forced to taste toad spawn.

“Hmm….I think you’re overcompensating for some feelings,” Barty said in a stage whisper, causing Dorcas, Evan, and Pandora to fall into fits of laughter.

“Fuck off,” Regulus hissed, rubbing at his neck, where his turtleneck covered a mark created by the same boy he was pretending to hate.

[bradleysass]

sunrise - @black-brothers-microfic - wc: 1k

“Hey, Weggie, wake up!”

A small hand shook his shoulder insistently. Regulus groaned softly, curling deeper into the warmth of his blankets. But Sirius was nothing if not persistent, and the shaking grew stronger.

“Reg… come on.”

Regulus blinked his sleepy grey eyes open. The dim pre-dawn light filtered weakly through the curtains. He rubbed his face, frowning a little. “Siri…?”

But Sirius wasn’t waiting. At the crisp age of five, Sirius Black was already a force of nature. He was tugging insistently at Regulus’s arm, practically hauling him out of bed.

“Gotta show you somethin’.”

Regulus stumbled forward, the soft weight of his favorite blanket still clinging around his shoulders like a cape. He didn’t protest; he was too tired, his body too pliant in his brother’s grip.

They made their way up the creaky stairs, the old house groaning around them as if warning them to get back in bed. But Sirius was undeterred. He stopped at the attic door, looked over his shoulder with a conspiratorial glance, then pushed it open.

“Kreacher didn’t see,” he whispered triumphantly. “Mum and Dad are still asleep.”

Regulus nodded sleepily, trusting his brother implicitly as Sirius opened the trapdoor leading up to the roof. The ladder extended with a faint metallic groan. Sirius scrambled up first, peeking around as if expecting the night itself to catch them.

“C’mon, Weggie,” he whispered again, reaching down.

Regulus hesitated, but Sirius’s hand was waiting, warm and certain. He let himself be pulled up onto the cold shingles. His small feet padded after Sirius as they settled near the ridge.

The world felt… enormous up here. Above the dark tangle of trees in the garden, above the wrought iron fences, above even the grim weight of Grimmauld Place.

“Siri…” Regulus started, still drowsy, still unsure why they were here.

“Look.”

And Sirius pointed.

Regulus followed his gaze—and froze.

The sky was bleeding into color. Gold spilled like melted treasure across the horizon, streaking into pinks and purples, burning away the heavy blue of night. Wisps of clouds shimmered like brushed cotton, their edges glowing. The sun hadn’t quite crested the rooftops yet, but its arrival was undeniable, bold and beautiful.

Regulus’s mouth parted softly. “Oh…”

Sirius grinned beside him, proud. “Told you. Magic, huh?”

Regulus nodded wordlessly, leaning his head against Sirius’s shoulder, blanket still wrapped tight around him.

For a moment, neither spoke. Just two small boys on a rooftop, watching the world wake up before anyone else could claim it.

“Promise me somethin’,” Sirius said suddenly, voice low.

Regulus blinked up at him. “What?”

“When we’re big,” Sirius said, “we’ll go find better places to watch the sun come up. Far away from here.”

Regulus was quiet for a beat, considering it. Then he smiled softly, sleepily.

“Okay.”

-

The sky was still dark when Regulus stirred awake, the faint rustling of sheets beside him pulling him from sleep.

“James?” he murmured, voice hoarse from the night.

James turned, silhouetted in the faint glow of the streetlamp outside their window. His hair was a wild mess, sticking up in every direction. “Didn’t mean to wake you, love.” He smiled softly, leaning down to press a kiss to Regulus’s temple. “C’mon. I wanna show you something.”

Regulus groaned, dragging the covers tighter around himself. “It’s so early…”

“I know.” James’s grin widened, coaxing now. “But trust me. You’ll like this.”

Regulus sighed—he always sighed when James got that particular glint in his eye—and, grumbling under his breath, allowed himself to be tugged out of bed.

James handed him a hoodie and socks, already pulling on his own jumper over a faded Gryffindor tee. Together, they climbed the narrow staircase of their little flat, up to the rooftop.

The air was chilly up here, brisk with early spring’s bite, but James slung an arm around Regulus’s shoulders, warm and solid.

“Look.”

And Regulus did.

The city stretched beneath them, quiet and still in the pre-dawn hush. Lights flickered in distant windows. A cat darted across a rooftop. And above it all—the sky began to bloom.

First a shy pink, then a cascade of soft gold, bleeding into lavender and deep coral. The clouds caught the colors like watercolor paper, diffusing and stretching them wide across the horizon.

James watched it unfold, awed every time, as if he hadn’t dragged Regulus up here for the same sight a dozen times before. “Beautiful, right?” he whispered.

Regulus didn’t answer at first. Something had lodged in his throat—a memory rising, unbidden, from the depths of him.

“Look!” Sirius’s voice, gleeful and proud, a lifetime ago. A small hand pointing at the sunrise over Grimmauld Place. The cold shingles beneath him. The warmth of a brother’s shoulder.

He swallowed thickly.

“Yeah,” he murmured at last, leaning into James’s side. “Beautiful.”

James pressed a kiss to his hair, squeezing him closer. “Glad you woke up for it.”

Regulus smiled faintly, closing his eyes for a moment, feeling the weight of James’s arm, the solidity of it.

He wasn’t on a grim old rooftop anymore. He wasn’t wrapped in a fraying blanket, staring at the sky beside a boy who would one day leave and never come back.

He was here. With James. Safe. Warm. Loved.

And maybe—maybe in some small way—this was keeping the promise Sirius had once asked of him.

Better places. Better sunrises. Far away from there.

And this time, Regulus whispered it aloud, so softly James almost missed it.

“Thank you for showing me.”

James turned to him, puzzled. “Every time, love.” He paused. “But… what for?”

Regulus only smiled, eyes still fixed on the sky.

“For everything.”

And as the sun crowned the horizon, flooding the world with light, Regulus let the memory settle gently inside him—part of him, always—but no longer heavy.

Because here, in this moment, watching the sunrise beside the man he loved, Regulus Black finally understood what it meant to see the dawn.

And what it meant to keep a promise.

[estrellami-1]

Steddie Microfic

January prompt: new

Word count: 517

No warnings apply

Rated G

@steddiemicrofic

No one is allowed into the Munson’s new apartment.

If this was pre-Vecna, no one would have wanted to; after all, the Party—sans Max—hardly even knew where he lived in the trailer park. They saw each other on school days, with Wednesdays and sometimes Fridays for Hellfire Club, but the rest of the time they stayed separate.

But staying separate doesn’t happen after Vecna. After any run-in with the Upside Down.

But Eddie’s staying separate.

Everyone knows where the Munsons are staying now. That had never been a secret. But every time one of the kids shows up, Wayne turns them away, polite but firm.

Or, if he’s gone at work, they’d knock until they got bored. No one ever answered the door.

Steve’s been having dreams. In them, he’s stuck against a wall, or a bed, or against someone’s chest. There are claws digging into his own chest, his hips, his back, but they never puncture, never draw blood; they’re careful. Something about the way the dreams feel make Steve feel safe, even with the creature.

Because it is a creature; Steve can never see it fully, but he sees backwards-facing knees, claws, and wings. He might’ve just scraped by in biology, but he knows humans don’t usually have those features.

It all comes to a head one night when Steve falls asleep and dreams again. The creature is snuffling into Steve’s neck where he’s pressed against the wall again. He doesn’t recognize the room, wouldn’t know it’s a living room if it wasn’t for the couch.

The creature breathes in, taking in Steve’s scent, and begins pressing gentle kisses to the base of Steve’s neck and throat.

Steve’s not scared. This creature isn’t something to be afraid of; it’s something to be revered, treasured.

He tilts his head back best he can, lets the creature work. Feels his breath hitch at a deeper kiss, just the hint of teeth. He exhales on a breathy moan, and it snaps something in the creature.

It slots a leg between Steve’s, extends its wings around him—protecting him, sheltering him, Steve realizes—and begins sucking a hickey into Steve’s neck.

Steve can’t help but shift down, rub his aching cock against the creature’s thigh. He tries to move away from the wall, get his cock into the crease of the creature’s hip, but the creature keeps him in place.

It shouldn’t be as hot as it is.

Suddenly they’re in bed, and the creature is atop him, rutting down into him. Steve’s humping up into the creature, meeting every thrust, and he knows he’s not going to last long.

He wakes with Eddie’s name on his lips.

He jumps out of bed, throws a shirt and some flip-flops on, uncaring for how he looks. He runs out the door, drives to the Munsons’ new apartment, bangs on the door.

Wayne answers. “Boy, ‘s the middle of the night.”

“I’m sorry,” Steve tells him. “But please- please. I need to see him.” He peeks around Wayne. Freezes at the sight of the living room.

It’s the exact same as his dream.

[marauder-misprint]

Birthday

Sirius Black x fem!reader

microfic - 765 words

cw: fluff, established relationship

Growing up, you loved your birthday. A day where you got cake and presents and just about anything you wanted. It was all about you. As you grew up, your want for material things dwindled, as did you liking for being the center of attention. Sure, you still liked cake but it wasn’t your favorite dessert. Not that anyone at Hogwarts would bug the house elves for a birthday cake. It wasn’t like you hated your birthday, it just wasn’t special. Whatever magic faults sprinkled on the day had faded and now it was just another day, except with more cards from extended family.

Being that the day wasn’t special to you, you didn’t mention it to your friends. It was a don’t ask, don’t tell kind of situation. You think Pandora knows your zodiac. She had demanded to know it when you first met. So she has an inkling that it’s around now, but she doesn't know the exact date. And that’s how you like it. It comes and goes without anyone knowing. 

“Hey sweet thing,” Sirius says, climbing to sit on the armrest of the bench you’re sitting at. “How was Divination?”

“Boring. Talked about how zodiac signs influence people.”

“Huh. Compatibility come up?” he asks. He leans forward to whisper, “Do the stars say we’re compatible? I’m a scorpio and you are…”

You shake your head with a smile. “I think we cover compatibility later.”

“But what are you?”

“A witch with the poor choice of Divination for an elective.”

“Well, yes,” he says. “But when’s your birthday? I figure it’s something I should know as your boyfriend. Seems like the boyfriend type thing to know.”

You hum and pat your chin with your fingers, as if in deep thought.

“I… don’t have one.” You sound hesitant. It’s not that you don’t want Sirius to know when your birthday is, but you don’t want him to go overboard with gifts and doting on you. His tendencies to go all out were enough for you to withhold the information. 

Sirius lets out a haughty laugh. “Darling, everyone has a birthday.”

You hum again. “I’m one of those special people without one.”

You give him a sickly sweet smile, which he responds to with a pout.

“My girlfriend won’t tell me her birthday. That cuts deep, love. Right here,” he says, pointing at his heart. “Why you not telling me? What are you hiding?”

You shrug. “Nothing. It’s not a special day for me. So why bother?”

“Mine wasn’t special until I came to Hogwarts. Perhaps you just need to know how to celebrate it properly!” 

He stands up, as if ready to plan you a birthday party at that moment, despite not knowing when it is. You see his eyes flicker with a wicked glint. You know that if he had his way, whatever he was planning in his head would be the most outrageous rager Gryffindor Tower has ever seen. You reach out and place a gentle hand on his arm, bringing his attention back to you.

“My birthday was celebrated just fine, my love. My childhood wasn’t… like yours.” His face tightens briefly. “I got presents and cake and everything. I just don’t want that.”

He bites his lip as his face twists to the side. His eyes bore into your face, studying your expression carefully.

“You… don’t want that.” His words come out slowly as he processes. 

“And I know you love celebrating and throwing parties. I don’t want that. Not for my birthday.” 

He nods and sits next to you. He’s quiet for a moment before he leans back and throws his arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his side.

“What if we did a dinner or a muggle movie night? Something just the two of us. No gifts, nothing flashy. Just good ol’ quality time with your dear loverboy?” 

You snort a laugh. “Loverboy?”

“That’s me,” he says before smashing his lips into your cheek for loud sloppy kisses that make you giggle.

“Sirius!”

“When’s your birthday?” he asks, face still smushed against yours.

You sigh and mumbled your birthday. He pulls back, looking offended. 

“Last week?” he gasps loudly. “Your birthday was last week? I MISSED IT?”

“Yes,” you say shortly, but you’re smiling widely.

“I can’t believe you! The anniversary of the moment you arrived on this earth, the most holy day that we were blessed with your presence, passed and you told no one?”

“That could be correct, Sirius.”

“Well, clear your schedule for this weekend, love. I have a birthday to make up.”

[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

[siriusstardust]

guys help i was reading this really good jegulus microfic and then my app refreshed and i lost it pls help me find it this is what i remember

the persons display name was ‘star’

james was a pianist and reg was a violinist and james had said that regulus had to guess the song he was playing but if he got it wrong, practice would be extended by 5 mins

james was very good at like slightly tweaking the pieces so reg couldnt recognise them

guys pls help send it to me or comment the persons tag i really want to finish it

[mairon-goth-minion]

Rosekiller microfic - tw: toxicity, abuse, neglect

Barty lies in his bed, his brown hair messy and unwashed, eyes half closed with big bags underneath them. He hasn’t slept or eaten in days; he hasn’t showered in… he doesn’t want to think about how long it’s been. Slowly, he sits up. He fucking stinks.

A nearly extinguished cigarette dangles from his mouth and he shoots a glance at the small box lying on his bedside next to a half empty beer can.

His chest damp with sweat, he gets out of his bed and walks -although stumbles would be more appropriate- to the mirror.

A fucking wreck, that’s what he is. His face is hollow, gaunt, his skin pale and hot. He’s sick.

When he turns around, there’s a familiar man sitting on his bed, his piercing brown eyes staring into Barty’s. He looks divine.

“Evan…” Barty murmurs, approaching him.

The man doesn’t move, his eyes following Barty. There’s no disgust in this stare, no repulsion. Evan seems to be drinking in Barty’s appearance.

“Hey, Bee.”

Barty extends a hand forward, touching Evan’s cold cheek and softly kisses those icy lips before pulling away.

“I… I should take my meds.”

At those words, his lover frowns, his mouth curling in anger. “No.”

Barty gulps and reaches for the box on his bedside… A hand at his throat stops him. Evan squeezes, making it impossible for Barty to breathe.

“Bee, do you hate me?”

“N-no…” Barty rasps, tears in his eyes. He needs to breathe.

“Then why do you want me dead?”

“I don’t!”

Evan lets him go and he falls to his knees, gasping for air, coughing.

“Then don’t you fucking dare take those meds.”

Barty slowly nods, looking at Evan whose expression becomes soft.

His lover kneels next to him, cupping his face. “I love you, Bee.”

“I love you too.”

Barty leans forward, desperately melting into the other man, into this creation of his mind, killing him day by day, poisoning him. Evan, Evan, Evan, his imaginary boyfriend, the man who’ll cause the end of him. Evan.

[heaven4lostgirls]

prompt: girding potion ✧ @moonchaser-microfic ✧ wc: 421

info: girding potion gives the taker extra endurance

cw: mild sexual content

“look jus-just take it alright!” james says flustered, extending his hand out with a vial encompassed in it.

remus scrutinizes him, “what’s in it?” he prods, eyebrow raised.

james huffs, placing the bottle on the desk in front of remus.

“it’s a girding potion, you know, for before the moon” the younger boy mumbles, kicking his foot softly against the leg of the table.

remus looks at him in shock, “you made it…for me?” he squeaks out, immediately clearing his throat as his face heats.

james doesn’t seem to pay him any mind, smiling wider and nodding quickly.

“yeah! i mean, i did some research about which one would work better because apparently some of the potions don’t tend to work with lycanthropy because they contain aconite-” james starts to ramble, unaware of remus staring at him with a gaped jaw and wide eyes.

“shut up.” remus interrupts and james snaps his jaw shut immediately before frowning.

“you researched a potion for me.” remus states and james nods, confused.

“well that’s just what i stated but yes-“ james continues, perplexed but happy to explain again.

“stop talking.” remus states again and now james looks really upset.

“sorry jamie,” james melts at the sound of the nickname, “i just, you don’t understand what you’ve done” remus states.

james looks slightly guilty which concerns remus, “did i overstep?” the bespectacled boy asks, slightly softer.

remus shakes his head with a scoff, “god you’re as thick as it gets.” he huffs before standing up, pushing his chair back before grabbing the lapels of james’ robes.

he tugs the curly haired boy into a fierce kiss, grunting softly as the younger boy gasps, freezing in surprise before melting into it.

james wraps his arms around remus neck, tugging softly at the curls at the nape of his neck as he smiles sweetly into the kiss.

remus is losing oxygen fast, not just because of the kiss, but because of the pure adrenaline he’s running on.

he detaches quickly as he heaves for air and watches as james whines, chasing remus lips.

remus chuckles hoarsely, removing one hand from james robes to straighten his glasses and run a hand through his hair.

james leans into the touch and hums a satisfied sound, a smile gracing his features.

“you’re so beautiful.” remus murmurs into the quiet moment.

james’ eyes open slowly, his senses returning before he turns shy under remus’ gaze.

“shut up.” he flusters, shoving remus softly but grasping his sweater so they don’t actually detach.

[wolfstarmicrofic]

@wolfstarmicrofic - July 2023

Prompt no.3: Extended (ao3)

Word count: 95

I have a question

What?

Do you remember some names of my extended family?

Some names, yes.

List them

Why?

Just do it Moony. I’m bored

Cygnus, Druella and their three daughters.

Arcturus, ofcourse.

I can’t remember anything else now

These are my immediate family, i asked you about extended family

Sirius, i have never known any family expect my dad’s parents

As far as i am concerned cousins are extended family

That’s cheating

Why are you even passing notes about this now?

Binns is boring

And I’ve finished reading this lesson already

I’m bored

[gmwpluvr]

whoosh

for @ginnystrophyhusband 's microfic march

prompt: eyelash

Perhaps it was times like these where they knew the universe was stalling what they could have. Sitting under the tree at the backyard of the Burrow, hiding from the heat of the August sun, they sat but a breath apart, close enough to feel, but not to touch.

The wind didn’t particularly make its presence known that day, or maybe it was the sweltering heat, or the nervous ache of being so close yet so far. Harry’s eyelids glistened the same way his palms did, despite them plucking weed absentmindedly from the ground beneath him.

Ginny was quietly doodling on a scrap parchment, the teared edges a remnant of the witch weekly print it was pulled from.

He snuck glances at her, reminiscing the sunlit days when he could do so unabashedly. The weight of the war heavy on her pale, freckled shoulders, but there was still a dull, shine in her eyes that Harry only remembers as bright.

She was— is, the most beautiful thing he knows of. Maybe she was the true magic in his life all along. He was terrible.

Harry blinked.

“There goes an eyelash,” Ginny muttered, and only then had Harry realized she was looking at him too.

She extended her hand towards his face and plucked the miniscule strand of hair from the corner of his lips. Gently, Ginny took his hand in her own and placed the stray eyelash in his palm.

“Make a wish,” she whispered, brown staring intently at green.

There were a million things to wish for, how was he to choose? To end the war? To have him be hers again? To bring his parents back? Sirius? Dumbledore?

He sighed, swallowing, because kissing her quidditch worn hands should have never felt this forbidden, “I hope everything goes alright in the end.”

Ginny smiled, a reassuring smile. Then, she blinked.

Harry chuckled before placing her own light brown eyelash in his hand, next to his own. “Your turn.”

“I wish for yours to come true.”

Even now, when he knew they were nothing by name, they know what the other is thinking off.

They blew the hair away, closing the gap between them. Harry tucked her gently to his side, and for a fleeting moment, he was a sixth year again. Ginny’s red hair sprawled across his chest and the weight of her head on his shoulder, a feeling his body knew all too well.

Their eyelashes glowed slightly, then disappeared all together, with Harry and Ginny none the wiser.

[my-castles-crumbling]

wish - Jegulus Microfic - @into-the-jeggyverse - word count: 294 - trans!Regulus - slightly angsty but a happy ending

For Regulus's fifth birthday, he wishes for a toy broom. He sees it in the window of a shop in Diagon, and it's all he can think about. The sleek handle, the trimmed twigs.

He gets a dress, and a necklace with the family crest.

For Regulus's eight birthday, he wishes for a hug. Love from his parents and a word of kindness or pride.

He gets books about pureblood lineage and a stuffy party with his extended family.

For Regulus's eleventh birthday, he wishes for a different body. To look like Sirius looks all the time without effort, and for a name that suits the way he feels in his heart he's always been.

He gets screamed at for being sick and delusional instead.

For Regulus's thirteenth birthday, he wishes for an escape. Some way to leave the horrible home he has to return to every summer. A safe place to rest his head and parents who love him.

He gets locked in his room.

For Regulus's fifteenth birthday, he gives up on his parents. Instead, he wishes his brother didn't leave. And he wishes...well, he doesn't wish. But he thinks about another Gryffindor. One with glasses and a bright smile. And he wishes to be loved in a different way.

He gets nothing.

But on Regulus's sixteenth birthday, things are different. He is sitting at the Potters, James and Sirius on his either side. A giant cake in front of him, and Effie and Monty sending him loving glances as his friends sing to him. James holds his and and kisses his cheek, and when they all get to the part of the song where they have to say his name, they say "Regulus."

For the first time, he wishes for nothing.

[ohalleyrose]

2am · @taylorswiftmicrofic · hair · @black-brothers-microfic · rosestarkiller · word count: 724 · mention of addiction

When Evan returned to their flat after work at 2 am, he found Regulus lying on his stomach on their bed playing some silly game on his mobile phone while Barty tried to get his attention.

“Just let me finish the game,” Regulus complained, focused on his phone as if his life depended on the well-kept condition of his virtual farm and the little animals he looked after there.

When Barty managed to take the phone away from him, Regulus sighed and extended his hand in his direction.

“Give it to me.”

Barty tucked the phone down his trousers and grinned.

“Come and get it.”

Regulus rolled his eyes, but soon cast a smile not at Barty's words, but at the sight of Evan coming up behind him.

“Welcome home,” Regulus greeted him.

Before Barty could turn around, Evan wrapped both arms around his body and rested his chin on his shoulder.

“Hmm, are you two at it again?” He reached under Barty's trousers and pulled out Regulus' phone. He glanced at the screen. “You know, Regulus, I think you have an addiction problem.”

Regulus snorted. He looked the cutest with his messy curls and and one of Barty' t-shirts that was rather loose on him.

“Says, who?”

“Don't give it to him, Evan,” Barty said as he placed both hands on his and stroked them lovingly. “He's really getting on my fucking nerves with the bloody phone.”

Evan tossed the phone towards the couch beyond the bed. He didn't need to ask Regulus to know that was true.

“You're so dramatic,” Regulus groaned.

“Who'd I get it from?”

Evan cupped Barty's cheek gently as he turned his face towards him and pressed their lips into a short but sweet kiss.

‘’Clingy today, aren’t we?” he smirked against his lips.

Barty nodded his head.

“I can take care of that,” he kissed his lips one last time before sitting on the edge of the bed. “Since Regulus prefers his crappy game, it'll just be you and me tonight,” he added as he kicked off his boots, soaked by the puddles he had accidentally stepped in on the way home.

He heard Regulus mumble under his breath.

“Something to say?” Evan inquired.

Regulus raised his chin and folded his arms as he watched Evan remove his street clothes.

“No, do whatever you want, I don't care,” he muttered in annoyance and attempted to get out of bed, only for Barty to yank on his leg, causing him to fall onto his stomach back on the mattress. “Fucker!”

Barty's response was to bite him on the butt and Regulus whined just before rolling over and lunging at him in order to bite his cheek back. Barty chuckled and grabbed his face to lovingly kiss him, instantly feeling Regulus relax under his touch.

“You’re so stupid,” Regulus flashed him a tiny warm smile.

They never got seriously mad at each other because that was how their dynamic worked, both bickering over the silliest of things and making up through kisses and caresses filled with the greatest of affection.

“I know,” Barty grinned and left a peck on his lips.

Evan, who had changed into his home clothes —which consisted of an oversized t-shirt and a pair of worn-out sweatpants— lay down on the bed and sighed deeply. He was exhausted.

Both Regulus and Barty knew what Evan needed even when he wouldn't voice it out. Thus, Barty settled onto one arm of Evan's, hugging it tightly. Regulus rested his head on his chest and proceeded to draw random patterns there with his index fingertip absentmindedly. One of Evan's arms automatically travelled to Barty's dark hair and the other to Regulus' back, both of which he started to stroke in slow and tender motions.

Playing the middleman between wankers who wouldn't listen to reason was taking its toll on him. However, Evan hardly ever talked about work. When he was at home, he preferred to forget about it and instead devote all his attention to the two men who didn't hesitate to recharge his batteries and brighten his day whenever he came home feeling down. Barty was watching him adoringly and Regulus was offering him soft touches that warmed his heart.

Yeah, his job sucked, but Barty and Regulus were the joy of his life and that was all that mattered.

[thefreakandthehair]

“I know it sounds weird, but uh, no one we know sleeps well. Some better than others, or they have other people now who can help, but I’m kind of like, a sleep charm or something? That’s what Robin calls it anyways. She didn’t sleep for weeks after Starcourt, and Nancy didn’t sleep for over a month after Barb died. And we just kind of, I don’t know…” He gestures vaguely at the bed, sheets and blankets wrinkled and twisted into themselves from whatever position Steve had been in before Eddie interrupted. 

“... Cuddled?” Eddie supplies, the word nearly stuck at the back of his tongue. 

Steve nods. “Yeah.”

He stands in place, just as Eddie does, neither man moving yet. “And before any of the Upside Down shit, Tommy had a rough time sleeping and Carol, too. I swear, it’s not like, a weird sex thing. At all. But I know what it’s like to wake up terrified, and alone, and confused, and no one should have to suffer like that. So just, c’mon.”

Eddie watches as Steve climbs under the covers and kicks around, straightening them out, before holding the layers of blankets up to make space for Eddie to join. Every wet dream– no, worse– every tooth rotting romantic dream he’s ever had about Steve slams into him with a fury and before he can think about it, before he can rationalize a way out of this situation that clearly means something more to him than it does Steve, he finds himself sliding between offensively checkered sheets. 

What happened to being a runner? 

Silently, Eddie lays on his back and stares at the ceiling, unsure of what to do next. Does he initiate? Does Steve? He wants to touch him, to soak up whatever he can because cuddling platonically with a guy he’s had a crush on for years and has probably been in love with for months is better than nothing. But it’s nearly as scary as the nightmares that drove him here in the first place. 

Unwanted, nasty thoughts rage in the underbelly of his foggy brain. 

I don’t deserve this. Steve doesn’t have to squeeze the broken bits back together like this. He already dragged me out of Hell and now I’m waking him up in the middle of the night to cuddle me back to sleep. What’s wrong with me? 

Steve solves his dilemma for him when he shuffles closer and tentatively slides one arm beneath Eddie’s neck, turning to tug him into his chest. 

“You’re thinking too loud. Just relax.”

Eddie melts against him, exhausted and pliant, inhaling the scent  of Steve’s body wash. He sinks in, nose pressed against the crook of Steve’s neck, and breathes even, steady breaths that counterbalance the ragged desperate attempts from less than an hour ago. 

Something about Steve feels like home, and Eddie is only familiar with houses.

read the rest of no better version I could pretend to be tonight on ao3!

so uh, hope this isn't weird buttttt, tagging the people who seemed interested in the extended cut of my september microfic: @plumfondler @cuoredimuschio @stobinesque @steddielations @dreamwatch @vecnuthy @strangersteddierthings @extra-transitional @yournowheregirl @shares-a-vest @steviesummer @thegirlwiththelibrarybag @steddieas-shegoes @sidekick-hero @withacapitalp @ghostevie @hammity-hammer @oliver-sykes @perseus-notjackson @sailing-through-hawkins @aliea82 @elidoesntbreathwee