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Forgive me, Peter (is it something I did?)
Marauders microfic from Peter's POV | 2.2k words
ao3 link here
James was Peter's whole world when they were young.
The moment they met, Peter knew James was different from any other kid he'd ever met. He was kind, and didn't make fun of Peter because he didn't know how to play certain games or was in bad shape for sports. James was always so kind to him, so patient. They will spend hours and hours playing by themselves in James's garden because the other kids didn't want to play with Peter, but James said he preferred to play with him anyway.
They lived very close to each other; in fact, they were technically neighbors. Peter only took a six-minute walk from his house to James's, and they will see each other every day. James would show him everything he knew about Quidditch and discuss his favorite teams, and in return, Peter would teach him how to play chess and vent about his older siblings at home. And James will listen, he will always listen; and for the first time in his life, Peter felt like his voice deserved to be heard, that his opinions and feelings mattered to someone other than just himself and his own shadow.
That was, until they got on that train.
The Hogwarts Express was everyone's dream. Peter could remember his brother and sister talking about it nonstop when they came back from Hogwarts for their first break. Peter was excited about it, but it also made him anxious. When he received his letter, he couldn’t actually believe it at first. He knew he had magic since he was nine, but still, his aunts and brother loved to point out that it was weak, that even if he wasn't a squib, his magic would never be strong enough to even do anything relevant with it. Peter could not avoid feeling as if there had been a mistake, as if he didn't belong there. But just three feet away from him, there was James, smiling at him reassuringly and fondly as he awkwardly walked towards the train.
James had always been his anchor, the one and only person who could keep him grounded when he felt too low about himself. James would assure him he was wonderful, and that being his best friend was the best thing that had ever happened to him.
And James might have been Peter's anchor, but perhaps Peter had always been James's shackles.
The moment James met Sirius Black, Peter knew his relationship with James was never meant to last.
They were still friends, of course. James never wanted Peter to leave his side, and tried to get him into conversations. But Peter knew since the beginning of their Hogwarts journey, that Sirius was everything James wanted Peter to be, even if he never said it out loud.
Sirius was loud, that was the word that described him the best. He was loud, and so, so alive. And for Peter, who had always felt a little bit dead inside, that was like looking directly at the sun and getting a little blinded by its light. He tried, he really bloody tried, but he couldn't change who he was, how he felt, how he acted. No attempt was enough to get James to talk or look at him the way he did with Sirius Black.
When he was sorted into Gryffindor, he was so surprised that he tripped on his way to the Gryffindor table. Everyone clapped, and amidst all the loud noise, he could hear Sirius whistling and James shouting his name. Peter smiled nervously and sat between James and Remus. James gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder, and Remus just gave him a quiet nod. Peter didn't even look at Sirius when he called his name.
Peter Pettigrew had never been brave. He never felt like it, and his family reminded him every day how much of a coward he was. Since he could remember, he had always been afraid of making friends, and his parents needed to talk to the other kids for him to be able to have someone to play with. His siblings needed to force him to do new things like flying a broom, and his aunts scolded him when he refused to try new food. When he became friends with James, he became that force he needed to start opening up a little. James never forced anything into him, always respected his boundaries and tried showing him the light of life. He succeeded, of course, James always did; but when Sirius came into his life, that light started to banish little by little, wound by wound.
He knew from the beginning of his life that he would never be anyone's first choice. He knew it and accepted it. At least, he thought he did. His parents will always choose any of his siblings, just never him. His siblings will always choose each other, and James... oh, James. He really thought, for a period of time, that he was James's first choice, but now he realized that would never be the case, not while Sirius Black was still breathing.
He even tried getting close to Remus. The boy was quiet and liked reading. Peter initially thought that perhaps he was reserved with everyone, not just with Peter. But, fast enough, he realized that wasn't the case. Sirius, somehow, had broken that shield Remus always carried with him, cracked his mask, and got him into his most vulnerable human form. Remus loved Sirius, he loved him in a way Peter quite never understood, but again, he really never understood what was so special about Sirius Black that was leaving him completely alone, what was so special about him that he could just take everyone and everything away from him, even James.
He never intended to hurt him, to hurt any of them. Even after seven years of feeling like he was just something less than a sidekick for his friends, he still was something to them, at least he wasn't alone, at least James hadn't given up on him after everything. He never intended to do any harm, but Peter had always been weak, manipulable. The Dark Lord gave him what he had been craving his entire life, an opportunity to be someone, to do something important, to be someone's choice.
So he did it, he started working as a spy for the dark side. At first, it was alright— great, even. Voldemort chose him as one of his most loyal followers, he even sat next to him in the meetings with the rest of the Death Eaters. He felt like he was important, like he had done something right for the first time in his life, and for the look in Voldemort's eyes when he looked at him, he had.
The first time it actually hit him was when the news of the McKinnons reached his ears.
He had never been close to Marlene, not like Remus or James were, but he knew her; he knew her more than any of the people that had died in the war. He knew that her laugh was the loudest out of everyone in the Gryffindor tower, he knew she loved playing Quidditch just as much as James did, and that she loved reading some weird muggle books, which she would later recommend to Remus. He knew she loved music, especially rock, and she and Sirius would annoy everyone in the common room by singing and shouting lyrics left and right from their favorite rock bands. He may not have actually known her that well, but he saw her breathing and living for so many years, and because of him, she was dead.
He tried swallowing the feeling of guilt, tried pretending as if nothing had happened, and continued doing what the Dark Lord asked him to. That was the first time Peter actually realized how badly he had fucked up, and he was now trapped. He couldn’t back off now, but still, he couldn’t shake off the feeling that he was always meant to end up like this.
When the prophecy came, Peter was the first person Voldemort asked for information.
He wanted every possible location of the Potters, their schedules, any piece of information that could help him get to them. And for the first time since he had joined the Death Eaters, he lied to the Dark Lord.
That was probably the bravest thing Peter Pettigrew ever did in all his pathetic and miserable life. He lied, he lied about everything he knew, about every piece of information he had. He lied as much as he could, until he couldn’t anymore.
James and Lily now knew about the prophecy, and Dumbledore had sent them into hiding. Those were the exact same words he told Voldemort when he asked again about the whereabouts of the Potters, but when the Dark Lord asked about the type of magic they were using to hide, Peter couldn't even think of a good enough lie, so he told the truth.
He knew that if the Potters or Sirius were suddenly found dead, it would be his fault, but none of that happened. Voldemort didn't know who the secret keeper was, Peter had had enough decency to keep that piece of information to himself, but he knew that the first suspect would be Sirius Black, James's best friend and Harry's godfather.
Sirius apparently had the same thoughts, because one night after a meeting, after everyone was already gone, Sirius asked him to be the new secret keeper.
He apparently had already told James and Lily about it, and both of them agreed. Sirius was the most obvious option, and nobody will ever suspect him.
"Is it because I look weak?" Peter wanted to ask him desperately. "Because I look incapable?" But he didn't say it out loud, because maybe he was; maybe he was weak and incapable and a coward, and maybe he'd always been.
After he became secret keeper, Voldemor knew. Peter wasn't sure how he knew it, but he did. Maybe he could read his mind, or maybe he'd never been really good at pretending, but in that moment, when Voldemort asked him the location of the Potters, Peter knew it was over.
Because he was a coward, after all.
He could have begged for James's life, just like Snape did for Lily's. Perhaps, that would have been the last decent thing he could have done for him. But deep inside, Peter knew that it was in vain. Snape never knew Lily the way he knew James, or even Lily herself. They both loved so hard, so intensely, so deeply, and they were so brave, something Peter never had been. They loved so much, and Harry was just the person they loved the most in the world. They wouldn't let their child die without a fight, and then Voldemort would kill them all three.
The moment it happened, Peter felt it in his bones, in every cell of his body, in every beat of his heart.
James was dead.
Peter never thought it was possible to feel absence so deeply in your soul you felt like your own shadow had been torn away from you. He felt it all, but at the same time he felt nothing at all—not when the Dark Lord was gone, and he had lost everything.
Sirius Black gave him a new reason to run: he was going to kill him, he had promised. With every single step he took, he could feel Sirius's breath on his neck like a sharp knife threatening to cut him open, and he deserved it; he knew he did.
But he didn't want to die.
So he ran and ran, until his lungs were full of memories, and regrets, and fear—oh, so much fear. He was terrified of dying.
It was just a matter of time until Sirius found him, he knew he didn't have much time. He had promised to kill him, and if he knew something about Sirius Black, was that he was always true to his threats.
So he did the only thing that crossed his mind—the only thing that gave him an actual shot to survive. He hid among the Muggles, even though he knew Sirius would find him anywhere, and when he inevitably did, Peter was ready.
He caused an explosion that killed probably hundreds of muggles; he wasn't sure, but he didn't care that much. Sirius was there in the explosion, but he didn't die; Peter's plan had never been to kill him.
He held his breath, and without thinking too much, because if he did, he might never be able to do it, he cut one of his fingers. The pain was terrible, the blood was everywhere, but when he transformed into his rat form once again, the pain was already gone, so was Peter.
And he ran once again—he ran away from the life he used to have, the life he would never have again. He ran from his guilt, from his bad decisions, and from every time he betrayed himself.
He ran and never looked back; that was the one thing he always did the best.
He was a coward, after all.
#marauders fanfiction#marauders microfic#microfic#peter pettigrew#james fleamont potter#james potter#prongstail#marauders#the marauders#marauders era#marauders fandom#the marauders era#dead gay wizards#dead gay wizards from the 70s#taylor swift#ttpd#the tortured poets department#wolfstar#jily#sirius black#remus lupin#marlene mckinnon#voldemort#moony wormtail padfoot and prongs#wormtaiil#padfoot#moony#prongs#Spotify
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I wrote some stuff about lily and sirius talk about their siblings last night and while I'm not sure that I like it I've decided to post it. Also heres my AO3 which I guess I've never needed to post before. okay here it is:
"I did everything I could-" Lily said, but even as the words came out she knew that they were a lie. She stopped herself and sighed, but then she did something that neither of them had been expecting. She told the truth. "No, I didn't."
"What?" Sirius looked over at her, eyebrows high, but Lily didn't see his expression. She didn't even look at him. She just stared out at the sky. It was an unspoken rule that they didn't look at each other on nights like these. When they sat at the top of the astronomy tower, moping and looking for someone to trade burdens with.
Lily's confession shocked them both, but she just stared straight ahead into the night and kept talking. "I didn't do everything I could. I could've- I should've written more. And when I was back for breaks I should have tried harder, to talk to her, and to keep up with her interests."
Sirius looked back out the window, going back to following the unspoken rule, but Lily had hardly noticed his gaze at all too lost in her regret to even really be aware of the boy sitting next to her.
"I shouldn't have let Sev take over my life back home, and I really shouldn't have picked fights with her." Lily sighed. "but she's just been so cold since I left. I felt like fighting with her was the only time when I could even get through to her- or not get through to her, but, talk to her?"
Sirius nodded looking out at the night sky. The moon was a sliver in the sky, but the stars were out and they lit up the sky well enough. Without even meaning to Sirius sought out the Regulus star. "I didn't do enough either," Sirius admitted and they sat in silence for a beat before he continued. "I pushed him away. I knew what they expected from him- from us, but I was so determined to not be what they wanted that in my efforts to be different, to be better, I isolated him."
Lily nodded. "I feel like I abandoned her." She whispered her confession to the darkness, but Sirius heard anyway and this time it was his turn to nod.
There were several moments of quiet before Sirius gave up one more confession, one more secret to the sky.
"I did abandon him."
#im not sure how to tag stuff like this#lilypads#sirius black#lily evans#lily evans and sirius black#sirius black and lily evans#marauders microfic#marauders era#marauders#the marauders#harry potter#the marauders era#mwpp era#petunia and lily#sirius and regulus#the black brothers#evans sisters#the evans sisters#black brothers#black brothers angst#evans sisters angst#petunia evans#petunia dursley#marauders headcanon#microfic#marauders fanfic#marauders fanfiction#young marauders#hp marauders#sirius and lily
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the pale mech pilot (chronically depressed tgirl) slumps out of its cockpit after a prolonged battle (playing borderlands 2 for 6 hours) at the orders of its handler [NO METAPHOR HERE] shocked from having its neural interface ripped out (taking off noise canceling headphones) it is quickly rewarded with just a pulse of neurostims, (a drink of water and a handful of chicharrones) legs slack against the ground as it struggles to remember how to operate outside of its titanic metal shell it calls a body (memory foam mattress)
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"The one with Regulus' first orgasm" a microfic inspired by @bellaxisworld prompt: waterfall - NSFW
Regulus remembers being young and searching what an orgasm felt like just after he experienced his first oral. All the results were… unhelpful. ‘You will simply know’ was the conclusion that every single website reached. He even decided to go old school and read through magazines that discussed anything sex related. They all talked about a climax and falling off an edge, but he had barely felt a ‘tingle’ when his ex-boyfriend attempted to get him there.
However, the first time he felt James’ touch, the first time James’ hands were undressing him, the first time James’ lips were on his skin, mapping out every surface of Regulus’ body, he could feel waterfalls and fucking electricity between his thighs.
As James continued to savour every inch of Regulus, and left a trail of kisses towards his lower abdomen, Regulus felt his cunt fucking twiching in anticipation. As he got closer, James slowed down, making sure Regulus’ inner thighs were not neglected. He kissed each side fervently, leaving traces of James’ wet lips as he got closer.
There it was, James’ tongue devouring Regulus for the first time. He was a parched man finding his only source of hydration, a blind man seeing the sky for the first time, and nothing short of devoted. James’ tongue brushed over his still closed lips, and used the tip of it to part them gradually. Soft moans escaped Regulus, nothing intelligible falling from his mouth, if this was what heaven felt like, he was willing to make amends to ensure access to those gates.
James hands tightened on his hips as his tongue finally began delving between his lips, no surface left unattended. He angled his face in a way that allowed the tip of his nose to add friction to Regulus’ clit, a desperate plea for more was all James needed to free his hand and press a finger into Regulus’ inside.
“More,” and James added a second one.
Before Regulus could beg for James’ cock to be inside him, he felt it. The climb, the climax, he could see the edge. It was all stars and prayers. James’ nose, James’ fingers, James’ mouth, James’ drowning on Regulus’ wet cunt. He felt as if dying and flying were synonyms as James kept working his clit beautifully with his tongue in circling motions.
He was a whimpering mess when it arrived, clearly and unmistakably: an orgasm.
all of my microfics with your prompts are here
#jegulus#marauders#james potter#regulus black#gay dead wizards#james x regulus#starchaser#sunseeker#jegulus fanfiction#fanfic#jegulus microfic#euge's microfics#trans regulus#microfic
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@jegulus-microfic – Day 12 • Amortentia • wc 312
•••
“Remus, Remus!” Regulus came rushing into the great hall with James trailing behind him. He stopped abruptly, almost making James bump into him. “Help me, I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.” flailing his hands between him and his fluffy-haired shadow.
James put a hand on Regulus’s bicep rubbing gentle circles into it, looking down at how his dark curls sat against sharp cheekbones.
“I don’t see the problem.” Remus replied hesitantly.
“The idiot drank amortentia this morning and won’t leave me alone.” He huffed, brushing off James’s hand and taking a step away just for James to take a step closer again.
James looked dejected and reached out to brush a lose curl behind his boyfriend’s ear, running his finger across the line of his jaw. “Reggie” he whined.
“I’m not sure how to help, Regulus. He’s not acting much different than usual.”
Sirius came running up to them then, ruffling James’s hair and moving to stand next to Remus. “What’s up, why’s Reg here?”
“Pads! Hi! I’ve been with him all morning. He’s been super grumpy but he’s so pretty when he is.” James said excitedly, stroking the side the younger’s face which earned him a groan from Sirius.
Ignoring his brother’s presence and the show of affection from his doe-eyed boyfriend, Regulus turned back to Remus. “I can’t put up with this all day. Please just help me.”
“Help with what?” Sirius questioned, looking between the two of them.
Regulus let out a loud whine of frustration, “What is wrong with you two!”
“James supposedly drank amortentia.” Remus told Sirius.
Sirius looked wide eyed at James now. “Really Prongs? I thought people started going crazy when they have it? You seem fine.”
“What are you talking about! He’s acting like a crazy lovesick puppy!” Regulus shouted.
“Yeah… that’s pretty much the norm for him when you’re around, Reg.”
#jegulus microfic#jegulus#marauders era#marauders#james potter#regulus black#remus lupin#sirius black#starchaser#sunseeker#amortentia#fanfic#microfic#james potter x regulus black
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That a pixie is trapped in their lantern, and that she wants out, is enough information for Wyll Ravengard. He had once swum with mermaids in a silvery sea.
"Your trials have ended, Dolly Thrice," he says with as much reassuring gallantry as he can muster. He turns the lantern in his hands, squinting in its agitated light, and looks for the catch that will unlock it. "We'll liberate you in a trice."
"Oh, very nice," says Gale, peering over his shoulder. "I'm known to indulge in a spot of poetry myself, now and again—"
"I want to try." Shadowheart's voice, lilting and ironic. "We'll liberate you in a trice, from this"—she thinks for a moment—"peculiar device—"
"Mice!" Karlach chimes in, then clears her throat. "Just thinking of other words that rhyme."
"Has everyone forgotten," says Astarion, his voice rising to something between a whine and a wail, "about the bloody shadow curse?"
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putting a pin in a daydream
✧ written for 'pin' ✧ word count: 388 ✧ rated: T ✧ cw: none ✧ tags: stobin being stobin, eddie having horny thoughts ✧ @steddiemicrofic ~\(≧▽≦)/~✧
If there's one thing Eddie has learned about Robin-and-Steve/Steve-and-Robin, it's that their conversations are like a bottomless pit. Trying to find the source, or what's holding the structure together or how this led to that, it's like tying a rope around your waist and being lowered into the abyss. There's just no end or beginning in sight.
"I could be a pin-up girl!"
Eddie chokes as he walks past, coughing out his water with a weak thump to his chest. Steve pats his back, doesn't even glance his way, and Eddie tries to ignore the sparks lighting up in his -
"Oh yeah?" Robin says, rolling her eyes. "And what would I be, your stage set? The flower vase in the background? Tree number four?"
Steve's nose wrinkles so cutely at the remark and Eddie doesn't bother pretending he's not listening anymore. Especially when Steve's eyes go wide and he snaps his finger, his own little 'aha' moment. "We could both be pin-ups!"
The very thought of Steve in a magazine, ready to be ripped out, oh, he could be wearing Eddie's vest -
"Ew, what?"
"Think about it," Steve says triumphantly and Eddie absolutely is. "Me for the guy-likers, you for the girl-likers!"
Robin actually considers it. "What about the no-one-likers?"
Steve scrunches his brow, then shrugs. "A cooking page? Baking? Crochet? I don't know, there's something for everyone."
"Could have," Eddie says hoarsely, clearing out his throat when two pairs of eyes snap to him. "Could have lots of educational shit on there."
"See, Eddie gets it," Steve says, his hand still on Eddie's back, rubbing up and down soothingly, warmly, sweetly -
"Whatever," Robin scoffs. "I bet I'd be put up on more walls than you."
"I'd take that bet," Steve grins and Eddie's mind is flooded with the image of that grin plastered all over his bedroom, one as a firefighter, another as a knight, maybe even one as a rockstar's groupie, laying down in his bed and -
"Oh yeah," says Steve, looking over at Eddie with a bemused smile. "Why'd you stop by anyways, Eds?"
"Just, uh..." he swallows. "Don't remember, actually."
"Ah, hate it when that happens." Steve pats his back sympathetically and takes his hand away, Eddie's skin crying out for the warmth again.
"Yeah," Eddie exhales, mentally slapping himself. "My brain, man."
#sailor✧writes#steddie#writing#microfic#steddiemicrofic#the dinguses (affectionate)#this is a SUPER late entry oof#hope it's good though#i tend to default to eddie having Thoughts about steve when i struggle to write whoops
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of swords and holes
@steddiemicrofic "hole" | G | 404 | cw medical drugs | transfem Stevie, pre-relationship, mutual pining | part 2 here
“Boop.”
Eddie sighs.
“How long is she gonna be like this?”
“Well, how has she reacted to anesthesia in the past?”
“Uh.”
He thinks back to their post-Vecna hospitalization period.
“She’s a lightweight.”
The doctor chuckles.
“Well, the worst of it should pass in half an hour.”
“Why is there a hole in your ear?”
Eddie sighs, pulling Stevie’s finger away from his earlobe.
“Thanks, doc. We’ll holler if anything changes,” Robin answers this time, attracting her friend’s attention. She blinks up at her.
“Why does he have a hole in his ear?” she asks again in a tone suggesting a whisper.
“Why do you have tits?” Robin asks back and she pouts.
“I don’t-” She looks down and cuts herself off. “Holy shit! I have tits!”
“Yeah, you do.” Robin chuckles, patting her hand.
Stevie looks up to the other side, grinning happily.
“I have tits!”
Eddie smiles at her.
“Yeah, pretty girl.”
Her smile widens, and then she’s looking him up and down.
“Are you my boyfriend?”
Robin starts cackling, while Eddie goes red in the face. Stevie looks between them, lost, before coming to a conclusion.
“Ah, sorry. If you were my boyfriend I’d never let anyone put holes in your ears,” she says sadly, shaking her head. Robin starts howling.
“Oh, okay, so it’s a Bully Eddie Day, I see,” he scoffs, amused nevertheless. He raises an eyebrow when Stevie starts excitedly patting his knee. “Yes?”
“Eddie!”
“Yes, that’s me,” he smiles.
“I’m sorry for what I said about your holey ears. I’m just angry you can’t wear the earrings from me.”
Eddie was lost and Robin was laughing herself to death. He might be dying too, actually.
“You never gave me earrings?”
“Because!” She squeezes his knee almost painfully. “You said you were stretching your ears before I could give them to you!”
He hesitantly puts his hand on hers.
“I’m sorry. Can you describe them to me?”
Faced with her pouty lips and tiny frown, Eddie was melting from the inside.
“They were swords. With tiny gemstones on the handles.”
“They sound lovely. Do you still have them?”
“Well, yes. Was gonna figure out how to make a necklace from them.”
“Can I have them? I don’t think I’ll be stretching my ears more anyway.”
“You want them?” Stevie’s eyes sparkle.
“I’d want anything you give me,” he admits.
Robin was alive again and fake-retching next to them.
more Stevie | spicy Stevie | masterpost
#steddie#mine#steddiemicroficjanuary#steddiemicrofic#microfic#eddie munson#stranger things#steve harrington#ff#st#stranger things 4#steddie fanfiction#steddie microfic#transfem stevie harrington#stevie harrington
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for the @jegulus-microfic prompt: intent.
“Potter,” Regulus calls down the empty hall.
“Fuck off, Regulus,” James says back without turning around. He doesn’t even sound angry, just tired.
“James,” Regulus tries again, hoping his voice sounds softer in the hall than it does ringing in his own ears.
James turns around.
“You were right,” Regulus starts. It’s easier than I was wrong. “It wasn’t my intention-” he cuts himself off. It doesn’t matter what he intended. He knows exactly how ignoring James in front of everyone came off. He tries again. “I shouldn’t have- I’m sorry. It doesn’t matter. I don’t care who knows.”
James scoffs, but it doesn’t hide the hope in his eyes. “Prove it,” he says.
“Kiss me?” Regulus asks, daring to take a few steps closer.
“Right here in the corridor? Anyone could-”
“See us? That’s the idea. Dinner’s nearly over too. Should be a good audience.” Regulus says it lightly, as if a steady voice can disguise the fact that he’s nearly vibrating out of his skin.
It works, though. James grins at him, a small thing at first that steadily grows until it lights up his whole face. “You really mean it,” he says, and it’s not a question.
“I really, really do,” Regulus answers anyway, closing the remaining space between them. When he’s close enough, he grabs James’ collar and pulls him in. James is putty in his hands, bending to meet him with lips that were made to fit against his own.
Regulus doesn’t know how long they’ve been kissing. He doesn’t care. He’s intent on never doing anything else. That is, until he hears Sirius’ voice from the far end of the corridor.
“Prongs, what the fuck?”
281 words!
#jegulus#microfic#jegulus microfic#jegulus microfic by car#my writing#james potter#regulus black#starchaser#sunseeker#jegulus fanfic#jegulus fanfiction#jegulus fic#microfic by car
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prompt: heart (april 9th). 268 words. @jegulus-microfic
It’s the middle of the night, when James first says it.
Regulus is half-asleep, his chest rising and falling with a steady rhythm, the borders of sleep just barely gracing his mind. He can feel the weight of James’ body next to his own, curled around him, all warm.
James, it seems, has woken in the night. Regulus can tell both by his breathing—more irregular—and the hand that seems to be tracing its way up Regulus’ side. It’s a light brush, and it sends shivers up his body, though Regulus does his best not to react. He’s a bit curious to see what James is up to.
Eventually, the hand reaches his neck (James presses upon a bite he’d left, the night before), and comes to tuck a stray curl of Regulus’ back behind his ear.
“Fucking gorgeous,” James says, in a slight whisper. His fingertip traces over the helix of Regulus’ ear, and then falls away.
It’s quickly replaced by the press of his lips, light and chaste, in the very same place. The kiss is quick, over as soon as it’s begun, and then soon enough James is settling back down, pulling his arms back around Regulus’ frame.
And then he hums into Regulus’ shoulder. “I love you.”
He says it easily, and as he does, his thumb runs in circles over Regulus’ chest, again and again and again, soothing the beating heart there. James does it until his breathing sinks back into the rhythm of sleep, and then the thumb falls lazily away.
“I love you too, James,” Regulus whispers, into the silence.
#short today bc i have way too much going on <3#jegulus#regulus black#james potter#sunseeker#starchaser#james x regulus#regulus x james#microfic#jegulus microfic
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Steve is losing it. He has been here before, mind stretched beyond belief, cracking, snapping in half.
He squats down behind the counter at family video, hands around his knees, head bent into his lap. Steve rocks from heel to toe, heel to toe, so the rest of his body never hits the floor. He takes a deep breath, trying to push past tears. Push, push, push.
The breath stutters, Steve sobs.
He needs to get it together. He needs to push beyond what’s happening right now. Steve can do it; he’s done it alone before. He’s always alone. No one can see him like this. He would filled with shame if they did. Not because he thinks they would care. No, Steve worries they wouldn’t care very much, if at all.
Silly Steve. Always alone. Can’t move on. Always alone. Can’t break free from the past. Always alone. Can’t look beyond his own bullshit. Always alone.
Always Alone.
Always Alone.
Always—
There is a hand on Steve’s back. Gentle. Cautious.
Someone is here.
“Stevie?” The voice says softly.
Steve knows that voice. He gently raises his head and blinks away the tears. “Eds?” His voice creaks roughly; he worries for a brief moment if he has been shouting.
“Stevie…” Through the blur, Steve can see Eddie’s eyes soften at Steve’s disheveled state. A shameful heat bursts through his veins.
“Steve,” Eddie says a bit firmer, but not harsh, grabbing Steve’s attention. “What do you need?”
Steve is surprised for a moment. Eddie doesn’t ask, are you okay? Or how can help? No. Eddie asks, what do you need?
Steve shatters. “Please,” is all Steve gets out before collapsing in Eddie’s arms as he sobs. Eddie doesn’t say much, just sways them back and forth and strokes Steve’s hair.
Steve feels safe here.
***
just a little thing, inspired by my panic attack today. projecting and writing, my fav. also sorry if it makes no sense. anxiety really wiped me out.
#steddie#stranger things#let me project onto Steve#so I can heal#and use sadness for good#Steve Harrington#my writing#ficlet#microfic#eddie munson#steve x eddie
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Congratulations on the incredible milestone Connie!!! You are amazing ✨ I would love to request -“Put me down!” With either Dave York or Oberyn Martell or Javier Peña please 🥰
Oberyn Martell.
1,319 words.
"Put me down!"
(Warnings: mentions of sex work, arguing as foreplay)
Co-written with @absurdthirst
"Put me down!" Beating on his back does you no good as the damnably stubborn and terribly broad man has you thrown over his shoulder on his way through the halls of the palace. The whole morning was an uproar, then this presentation at the afternoon meal and suddenly you’re being carried off by the prince.
Oberyn chuckles and reaches up with the hand not banded around the back of your knees and smacks your ass sharply, pleased that you are no longer wearing the sufferable undergarments that you had on when you arrived. "When you are in my bed, where you belong." He tells you, after your screech of surprises bounces off the stone walls.
“I can walk, dammit!” There’s no guarantee that you’ll walk in the direction he wants you to, of course. But you do have working legs and this whole charade is very akin to stealing a maiden off of a battlefield.
He caresses your ass and chuckles again. “But I would prefer to know you will be in my bed, Dove.” He coos, smirking to himself when you wiggle against his palm.
“Then you ought to have asked,” you hiss, doing your very best to get out of his grip even knowing you’ll fall to the floor when you do. “Rather than commanding.”
“I do not ask.” He reminds you, his tone light and playful. “You should know that by now.”
He usually does not need to ask. You know that. The prince is handsome, charming, and seductive in innumerable ways. Typically, all he has to do is smile and all potential lovers melt. It isn’t that you don’t find Prince Oberyn attractive — after all you have eyes — it’s that you don’t take well to having your life decided for you. “Then you’re a brute,” you decide with finality.
Oberyn hisses, annoyance making him quicken his steps until he is bursting through the door of his large chambers and dumping you in the middle of a bed large enough to hold several grown men. “Only when fighting, my salty Dove.”
“Why me?” It is a demand of your own, as you struggle to maintain any kind of dignity while being thrown backward and bouncing in a highly unbecoming way.
“You would rather be at the whorehouse your father was going to sell you to?” Oberyn snorts as he stares down at you. “I assure you; they would not be a kind as I am.”
“The—what?” Your eyes blow wide, mouth falling open in horror as you stare up at him. This is the first you’re hearing of any whorehouse and you can feel all the blood drain from your face from the shock.
Oberyn tilts his head, sure that you had been made aware of the circumstances of your arrival to his household. “Your father could not cover his debts.” He informs you. “He was at the whorehouse in Braavos, attempting to sell you to them, sight unseen.” He shrugs. “I paid for you instead.”
“You…” There is not, unfortunately, any doubt in your mind that he is telling the truth. Your father is an insensitive man who outlived his wife and was burdened with many children. As the youngest girl, you are essentially useless to him. A fact that you have been told many times before. Too high born to be able to find work but low enough that the absence of a dowry means you will never be married, apparently this is the solution that your horrible father decided on instead. To sell his daughter for her body. Your mother would be absolutely horrified. “I hope you did not overpay.” Is what you say finally, when you can shake off the cloud of disbelief and dismay.
“I have yet to determine the value of the purchase.” He is joking, not liking the look of horror and sorrow on your face. “You will not be mistreated. Or forced.” He adds. “I do not enjoy fighting and fucking at the same time.”
“That makes you more civilized than most men,” you huff, sitting up on the large mattress and trying to get a hold of your composure. “Even if you do purchase and transport women like a side of beef.”
Oberyn snorts and shakes his head, admiring your spirit. “You will do fine here.” He predicts. “Though you should wear less.” He hums. “Sunspear is hotter than your province.”
Of course he wants you to wear less. That would have made you laugh if you weren’t so distraught. Instead you swallow your pride for a mere few seconds and look up at the prince. “What will you do with me if I refuse to come to your bed?”
“Then you will sleep in a very large bed by yourself while I find my pleasure elsewhere.” Oberyn smirks. “Though you will be welcome to join. I know my lover will find you exquisite.”
The second prince of Dorne’s appetite being legendary, you tilt your head at his choice of words. “I was under the impression you never have just one lover.”
“There are lovers and then there is Ellaria.” He explains. “My paramour. Mother to four of my girls.”
“The woman who does not want to be princess.” Nodding slowly, you try to sit up again and end up feeling very off kilter. “I have heard of her.”
“We have others in our bed.” He explains. “She is happy to have others, men and women. Finding pleasure with me and on her own.”
“So you…will not force me?” The idea seems unfathomable, since the prince literally bought and paid for you. But so far he has not lied. That you know of. “Truly?”
“I would kill any man that forced my daughters, if they did not kill him themselves.” He rationalizes. “After I separate his cock from his body.” He shrugs. “Why would I let them believe it is acceptable that I force someone?”
“My father has daughters and look what he did.” Shifting to the edge of the bed, you let your legs hang over and cover them with your skirts while you try to gather your thoughts. “Very well.” After a few long moments of silence, you press out a sigh. “I suppose this is where I live now, so…would you be kind enough to show me to my quarters without hoisting me like a sack of grain?”
“Dove, you are sitting in your chamber.” Oberyn chuckles and gestures around. “Your trunks will be delivered as soon as they arrive. I made your father have all your things packed.”
“But this is your chamber.”
“Very astute, my lovely girl.” He winks at you and strolls over to a bowl full of nuts and berries. “I will not force you to take my cock, but you will stay here and become close with me and my paramour.”
“I will have no privacy?” A very well-appointed prison, it sounds like. Although you cannot complain about the view.
“You wish to sleep elsewhere?” He asks, surprised that you would. Most would be thrilled to share a chamber with him.
Realizing from his surprise that you might be the first proposed lover to ever ask for such a thing, you sink into yourself a little. “I simply wish to have a choice,” you tell him honestly.
“Sleep wherever you choose.” Oberyn shrugs after a moment and pops another mouthful of nuts into his mouth. “It does not matter to me.”
“In that case?” For the first time since this all began, you feel yourself begin to relax slightly. “This may not be such an arduous arrangement for either of us after all.”
Oberyn lifts and brow and smirks, aware – even if you aren’t – that you will fall into his bed on your own accord within the week. He doesn’t voice that, just chews on his snack and admires the beauty of the woman he had bought.
______
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HC of the day:
Barty having nightmares and being really embaressed about them when he accidentally wakes Evan and Regulus. So one night Barty has an especially bad one and startles himself awake mid-scream. Evan, not knowing what else to do, just crawls in bed and holds him. Then every night after that, unbenknownst to Regulus, Evan gets in bed with Barty just to hold him through the nightmares.
One night, Evan doesn't show up. He figures, the nightmares got better so he wasn't needed anymore. But under the cover of darkness he feels a warm body slipping into bed next to him.
It's Barty.
Turns out it wasn't being held that helped the nightmares. It's Evan himself. All Barty needs is to feel Evan nearby and that is enough.
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the nude
This was the stupidest decision Regulus had ever made.
It started a week ago. James Potter was late for class, that was not the problem. The problem was that James lacked common sense, so instead of accepting an absence in class, he thought sprinting through campus with a hot coffee on his hand would have a successful outcome.
It didn’t.
He ran into an already very annoyed Regulus, and spilled his drink on the paper folder that the boy was dearly holding onto. When he looked up to assess the damage he folded at the sight of a devastated Regulus. He froze as he saw that the beautiful drawings that were carefully hidden behind the folder were absolutely ruined and it was all James’ fault.
“Please let me make it up to you,” James’ begged and desperately searched for forgiveness in Regulus’ eyes. He could only find despair. Regulus handed them the coffee stained paper and James couldn’t help but blush as he started deciphering the forms drawn: nudes.
“Oh.”
“Yeah, so unless you’re willing to pose in nude for me, there’s really no-”
“I’ll do it,” James blurted out. No hesitation.
Accepting James’ help was the stupidest decision Regulus had ever made. He was now in his living room, with a naked James Potter trying to concentrate on drawing him.
This was definitely not ending well.
you can read more microfics here
#jegulus#marauders#james potter#regulus black#gay dead wizards#james x regulus#starchaser#sunseeker#jegulus fanfiction#jegulus microfic#jegulus fanfic rec#microfic#for renn and bcj allegations victim#this is actually from dawsons creek#euge's microfics
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@jegulus-microfic – Day 14 • Voice • wc 420
If there was one thing about James Potter it was that he despised texting. He always said that his mouth was better and much faster than his fingers (which Regulus would surely confirm on quite a few accounts). He didn’t like that he couldn’t type as fast as the thoughts went through his head, nor that he couldn’t adequately convey his tone. He especially hated seeing the bubble grow bigger with what he had to say, plaguing him with worry the recipient wouldn’t be interested enough to read it all.
His preferred method to keep in touch with Regulus throughout the day was to send voice notes. He loved them and would send them at every hour of the day.
“Hey love, just left work will be home soon. I was at lunch today and there was this super cute cat that had the same glare as you and he kept…”
“My parents just invited us to dinner tomorrow. Are you free, darling? I already requested Mum make banana fritters for you and no she didn’t…”
“Would you please tell Remus that Pads and I can have ice cream for dinner pretty…”
“What do you mean we can’t have ice cream for dinner! We are grown men who…”
“Okay fine, no ice cream but…”
“God you look so pretty in that, I’ll be thinking about it until I can get my hands on you. Force all those pretty sounds from your…”
Anyways— that’s how they communicated when they weren’t together. A voice note encapsulating everything James needed to say and in return, he’d get a text or two (or three) back. That’s how it always was.
It was early in the morning and James rolled over in his bed. Regulus stayed at his own flat the day before but they had been on facetime late into the night until they were both curled in bed under their respective blankets watching the other. James had been exhausted and fell asleep first before they could hang up.
Rubbing his eyes, James grabbed his phone to see two messages from Regulus from the last night.
You fell asleep
I didn’t get to say goodnight :(
And then, sent almost ten minutes later, a voice note.
“Bonne nuit, mon ange.”
It was the first voice note Reg ever sent him and James lay there listening to it over and over again. Only stopping (and saving it) once he was sure he’d hear it while he fell asleep every night for the rest of his life.
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@jegulus-microfic | green - april 20 | 497 words | tw: NSFW | @ecstarry
James is a fucking lucky guy, that's what he is.
He is looking at the mirror, all naked. His hair is messy, he has only his glasses on and he has bruises on him almost everywhere, his whole body covered with dark purple marks.
He doesn't hate it, not a single of them. Quite the opposite, he fucking adores it.
He doesn't have to look back, he can sense Regulus anywhere. He slowly walks behind him and puts his green tie around James’ neck and pulls him in.
“Regulus,” James sighs, noses brushing each other. Regulus smirks slowly, eyes on James’ lips.
“Wanna do it again,” he murmurs against his lips, “Wanna feel you again.”
James closes his eyes and grabs Regulus by his hips, they're soft and perky, biteable. James did more than biting them, but he isn't going to start bragging.
“Oh?” James mutters and Regulus pulls him again, firmer this time.
“You heard me, don't act like you didn’t.”
James kisses his bottom lip and slowly bites it. He breathes down and their naked bodies caress each other.
James can fucking kill for this man. He could go to war for this man. He would die for this man.
He grabs him by the nape of his neck and smashes their lips together. Regulus is surprised by the sudden action, almost falling but he can't, James is holding him like a lifeline.
Their tongues dance around each other, Regulus is still grabbing his tie around James’ neck, slowly pulling him to the bed while walking backwards until his calves hit the mattress behind him. James has no obligations, he is ready to go for another round. He just can't fucking get enough of Regulus. It's impossible.
He pushes him to the bed, hard. Regulus smiles into their kiss and pulls him again. With one of his hands, he takes off James’ glasses. There are barely two inches between them, he can see him just fine.
He travels his hand on Regulus’ body, they're roaming on him. James’ hands are big and strong. He puts his hand on Regulus’ cheek and bites his tongue, their hard cocks are touching each other, he pulls his legs apart and settles down in between. He wants to kiss and bite his legs until they're bleeding, but what he wants more is being inside of Regulus again.
Regulus bites his bottom lip and he feels his skin breaking, and it's totally okay. That's how they like it. He starts feeding on his blood while James’ hands are busy with prepping him. His hole is already stretched, accepting James’ big fingers inside easily, his breath hitches when James hits a spot inside. James chuckles into their kiss, and Regulus slaps the back of his shoulder, he doesn't react until his third finger adds in, and Regulus grips his shoulder hard. “James,” he breathes and kisses him again.
“James, James James.”
He kisses him back.
“Jamie.”
And the whole world stops.
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