friday - jegulus - @taylorswiftmicrofic - word count: 408

Regulus could handle himself. He’d been telling overly-confident, macho men to fuck off for years, thanks, and he was very capable of doing so on his own. 

But he couldn’t deny that he was a bit relieved when, after five-or-so minutes of trying to let down Mister Let-Me-Treat-You-Right that evening, James Potter walked up to them, stony-faced and determined.

“Reg!” James called, immediately putting an arm around his waist, pulling him tighter to him than they’d ever been before, causing him to shiver. “Hi, baby! Sorry I’m late! You know how Fridays are at work.”

Regulus knew what James was doing. Clearly, he’d been out with some friends and picked up on Regulus’s obvious signs of annoyance and distress from across the bar, so he’d decided to help. This wasn’t real–this wasn’t real.

The man who had been trying to pick him up glared. “You have a boyfriend?” he demanded, like Regulus had personally offended him.

He tried to stay calm. “I’ve been trying to tell you I’m not interested,” he said flatly, leaning into James like it was something he did every day.

“Liar,” the man spat.

Regulus was tempted to tell him exactly where he could shove his dick but instead, James just chuckled lowly. “C’mon, love. Let’s leave him to sulk and go dance.”

And so he found himself dragged onto the dancefloor, pulled close to James’s body.

“Is this okay?” the taller man murmured into his ear as he turned Regulus away from him and pressed his back to his chest, making Regulus inhale sharply. “I just saw you over there and–”

“Yes.” He wasn’t sure if he was answering James’s question or reacting to the lips ghosting over his earlobe, but either way, he was so good. Allowing James to guide his hips to the music, he quickly forgot about the man at the bar, focused only on the man behind him.

Until James muttered. “He’s still looking. Can I–”

“Whatever you want,” he answered, dazed head full of ideas of what James could be doing.

A hand turned Regulus’s face, James leaned slowly over, and…their lips connected. 

And yes, maybe it had started for show. But as their tongues tangled and their hips swayed, Regulus’s mind went hazy and his fingers moved to tangle with James’s hands that were splayed over his ribs. He melted, completely forgetting everything but the other man behind him.

Maybe this was a little bit real.

Friday - Rosekiller - @taylorswiftmicrofic - 300 words - AO3

Barty groans as he flops onto his bed. “I’m so glad it’s Friday. Do you know who invented school? I want to steal a time turner and kill them before they do.” 

“There is not one single person who invented school, but Horace Mann is often regarded as the person responsible for the modern school system,” Evan replies as if that is a basic fact everyone knows. 

“Wanna go kill him with me, Rosie?” 

He looks up at him, smirking. “Best date ever.” 

Barty jumps onto the other’s bed, seizing his lips with his own. 

“Bee, you’re crumpling my homework,” he mutters. 

“Since when did you care about homework? Besides, we’re going to kill that fucker and then there’ll be no more school.” 

“I care about homework because you’re always doing better than me in tests without studying at all and it drives me crazy.” 

“You know what drives me crazy?” Evan raises an eyebrow, and Barty leans in, gazing into his eyes as their lips are a breadth width away from each other. “You sitting there looking so perfect and not being allowed to sink my teeth into your neck.” 

He is silent for a moment before moving his head to better expose his neck, and Barty doesn’t need to be told twice, biting every inch of skin he can. “Fuck, you’re so gorgeous,” he murmurs between each bite. “Utterly breathtaking. Perfect. Just as fucked up as me.” 

Eventually, he pulls away to marvel at the teeth marks, and he cannot wait to see them all bruised tomorrow. 

“Come here,” Evan says, wrapping a hand around his neck and pulling him into a desperate kiss. Barty thinks he can suffer through school for the rest of his life if this is his reward for making it through each day. 

“Your boy, Rozanov, is causing quite a stir out there,” JJ chuckles from where he’s looking down at his phone, sitting a few cubby’s down from Shane.

“Is he getting ambushed?” Shane laughs, trying to mask his nervousness. He and Ilya have only been out for a few months, and after so many years of hiding, he can’t help the part of him that instinctively panics at any mention of them being together.

It’s not often that a MLH player makes an appearance at a game that is not their own, but when Ilya had told Shane he would be coming to his Friday night game along with his parents – a rare occurrence where their schedules had allowed it – they had both braced for this sort of reaction.

“Something like that,” JJ says, holding his phone up for Shane to see.

On the screen is a post on Instagram; two men in their Metros jerseys posing for a photo with Ilya in the stands. But as it turns out, it isn’t just Ilya’s presence that seems to be causing chaos, it’s the Metros jersey he’s wearing.

Pulling out his own phone, he texts Ilya: Since when do you have a Metros jersey???

Since twenty minutes ago, comes his reply, along with a photo that’s clearly been taken in the arena foyer in front of a floor to ceiling poster of Shane.

His back is to the camera, showing off the 24 on his back and the Hollander across his shoulders, which is doing things for Shane that he will be revisiting when they get home tonight. But it’s the way Ilya’s looking over his shoulder at the camera with the biggest grin on his face that has blood rushing into Shane’s cheeks, his lips tugging up into an equally smitten smile of his own.

Date - Wolfstar - @taylorswiftmicrofic - 335 words - AO3

“Why are you both so happy? It’s weird,” James remarks as he walks into the dorm, sweaty from his morning run. “Better question, why are you both up so early?” 

“Today is a national holiday,” Sirius replies, not moving his head from where it is resting on Remus’ shoulder. 

“It is? What’s today’s date?” 

“January 8th.” 

James’ eyebrows knit together before he eventually asks, “What’s so special about today then?” 

Remus rolls his eyes at his uncultured friend. “Today is the legend, the wizard, the God David Bowie’s birthday.” 

“Oh, that explains so much and why you’re listening to music at such an “obscene” time.” 

“The things you sacrifice for your idols birthday celebration,” Sirius mutters. 

“Yeah, like your dormmates sleep,” Peter adds, groggily opening the curtain around his bed. “Seriously, have you two still not learned how to cast a silencing spell? It’s bad enough having to hear you murmur sweet nothings at night or…do other things but waking me up at six am is too far, even if it’s for Bowie. Why couldn’t you listen to this after class at a more reasonable time?” 

“We want to listen to his entire discography,” Remus says, “but we’re both busy later.” 

He sighs as he closes the curtain for another hour of sleep. “Use a damn silencing charm.” 

Sirius casts one and when James heads to the bathroom to shower, he turns to his boyfriend and gently connects their lips. Never in his life did he ever think he’d be able to have a love so genuine and soft, he never thought he’d find someone who would wake up at five am to listen to music with. He never thought he deserved that, or could love another person this much, but Remus is challenging every expectation he has ever had of romance in the best way possible. Nothing can accurately convey how much he loves this man, but he will never get tired of hearing those words from his lips or saying it in return. 

“What’s your passcode?”

Ilya looks over from the driver’s seat; the driver’s seat of Shane’s boring car that he insisted on driving part way to the cottage. It’s odd having Ilya in his car, even before he’d relented and handed over the keys. He can’t take his eyes off the way his elbow rests on the centre console and his fingers drum on the steering wheel. 

“Passcode?” Ilya asks, glancing down at his phone in Shane’s hands.

“Yeah, your passcode. If you’re driving, I get to choose the music. Those are the rules.”

“Stupid rules.”

“What is it? Your birthday? The date you got drafted?” Shane asks, trying both without luck.

“Uh – it’s eight, one,” he pauses, and initially Shane thinks it’s because he’s waiting for Shane to input the numbers, but it takes a generous pause and Shane repeating the first two numbers back at him before Ilya continues, his grip on the steering wheel tightening as he says, “Two, four.”

As Shane types the last number, the phone unlocks, but he’s not paying attention to that anymore, eyes on Ilya’s profile as he stares straight ahead. 

“Your passcode is our jersey numbers?”

“Shut up. What is yours?”

“The date I got drafted.”

“See, also about me. Drafted same date.”

Shane’s lips quirk up at the corners as he holds back a smile, saying quietly, “Okay.”

He lets Ilya off the hook, but as he scrolls through Ilya’s playlists, his heart feels a little lighter.

forgiveness - jegulus - @taylorswiftmicrofic - word count: 338 - this was a request, but I deleted the request in my inbox before I wrote down the person's name to tag, I'm sorry! I hope you see this!

Regulus Black did not ask for forgiveness. Asking for anything was being vulnerable, something he quite despised. Plus, that meant admitting he was wrong, which he never was.

But lately, he’d found himself doing a lot of things he’d sworn to himself he would never do.

Walking to the Quidditch Pitch, he wasn’t surprised to see James there speeding through drills like he was facing a professional team the next morning, though his next school game wasn’t for weeks. Face red and–to Regulus’s shock–streaked with tears–the boy was absolutely focused, but every time he tried to pull off a difficult move, he failed more than the time before. Cursing, heaving in breaths, he just doubled back to try again.

“Potter!”

James didn’t listen. 

“Potter!” Regulus called again, a little bit more desperately.

No response. 

So, voice breaking on the word, he yelled out, “James!”

The Gryffindor turned and, upon seeing him, slowly flew to the ground, his expression a mixture of a million emotions. Swiping at the moisture on his skin, he grumbled, “What?”

Regulus’s heart cracked in two. “James, I…”

Annoyance flashed on the older boy’s face. “Reg, what? I’m…I’m practicing, what is it?”

It killed Regulus to see James like this. So gruff and grumpy, so unlike his usual self. Maybe that was why he had the courage to utter the words: “Gods, James, I’m sorry!”

Shock flickered across James’s features, but he didn’t speak.

Regulus heaved in a breath. “I was…stupid, and being an arsehole, and you…you just…I don’t get how you can just do this! Without being scared all the time!” He chuckled wryly. “Like, what if I’m not worth it, you know? Isn’t it just easier, to not even try? To want something else?”

But now, James was staring at him like he was utterly mad. “Reg,” he mumbled, shaking his head slowly, “You can’t change how I feel, love. I’ve already decided I want you. You just have to let me.”

Those words struck Regulus right in the chest, leaving him gasping.

Lily wasn’t the first of them to attempt to bridge the gulf. She found herself surprised by that. She had always been the social one – the one who was invited to late-night parties and the one who would always be seen as a shoulder to cry on – even without him being the solitary type.

It happened practically the second she entered the potions hut.

Regulus, who had been tasked with assisting her ever since his first few weeks among their little group, was already present and accounted for. He had started his duties, too, and was stood at the side of a station with a small collection of chopped and diced ingredients prepared. He stopped and stilled when she entered.

‘Are you interested in continuing our conversation,’ he asked as she cracked open a window, already thinking of the fumes which regularly threatened to engulf the small shed, ‘The one we began outside the church.’

Forgiveness - Prongsfoot - @taylorswiftmicrofic - 450 words - AO3

Sirius sits in his bed, the sun beginning to rise outside making him realise he hasn’t slept all night. He knows what he did was wrong. At least he does now. It was supposed to be just a laugh, a little prank to scare Snape. He never intended for him to get hurt, not that he’d care if he did. But as the hours tick with no sight of James who raced to the shack when he told him what he did, dread starts to settle in his gut. What if he has caused the best person in his life, his soulmate, to die? It’ll be all his fault. 

The door eventually creaks open and James limps into the room. “Merlin, are you okay?” he asks, rushing to him but stopping short as he shies away from Sirius’ touch. 

“’m fine, just a twisted ankle that Pomfrey healed. Still a bit sore though,” he replies, sounding exhausted.  

“I’m so sorry, James. I didn’t mean for you to get hurt.” 

“No, you just wanted Snape to be killed, just wanted your best friend to become a murderer.” 

“What? No, I only wanted to scare him.” 

“And what did you think would happen when Moony saw a human? You think he’d growl a little and that Snape would have enough time to outrun a werewolf? You really didn’t think this through, did you?” 

“I- I didn’t think. I’m so sorry you got hurt, James,” he looks at him beseechingly. 

“You’re sorry about what happened to me, but what about him? You haven’t even asked how he is, if he’s even alive. I know we all hate him, but murder is too far.” 

“Is he? Alive?” 

“Yes, he’s in the hospital wing. It was a close call, only barely managed to outrun him, though Moony did scratch him pretty badly. Thankfully, there were no bites.” 

“James…” 

He sighs and takes Sirius into his arms, tenderly kissing his head. “What you did was by far the most idiotic thing you have ever done, but I can never be mad at you for long.” 

He buries his face into the crook of his neck. “I don’t deserve your forgiveness. I don’t deserve you.” 

James grabs his face, gently swiping the tears he didn’t realise have fallen from his cheeks. “I love you and nothing you could ever do would change that.” 

“I love you.” 

Their lips connect and he loses himself in the kiss, until Peter exclaims, “For fucks sake, I do not want to see that first thing in the morning.” 

Sirius flips him off and leans in again, too full of emotions—both good and bad—to care about anything else but James. 

tendency - jegulus - @taylorswiftmicrofic - word count: 385

Regulus had always had the tendency to shut people out during times of panic or stress.

When asked if he was okay, his body was programmed to respond with ‘yes,’ without even thinking about it first. When given a concerned look, his first reaction was to scowl.

Which was why James Potter was so damn inconvenient.

“I have to study, Potter,” he murmured as James trailed along behind him, arms crossed furiously, a look of absolute determination on his face.

“You’re using that as an excuse, Reg. You’ve been running yourself ragged all week, and I saw how big that letter was that you got in the mail for your parents! Talk to me, I want to help!” James demanded, half-running to keep up with him.

But Regulus refused, just walking faster. “I’ve no idea what you’re talking about,” he insisted.

James, however, was just as stubborn as he was annoying. “Fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he murmured, taking a sharp left and leaving Regulus on his own.

Dumbfounded, Regulus stopped for only a moment to stare after his boyfriend. Where had he gone? Why hadn’t he stayed? It was a stupid thing to ask, of course, since he’d insisted that James leave, but still….

After a moment, though, Regulus scowled again, deciding it didn’t matter. He was going to the library and he didn’t need James.

So he continued on, up a few more staircases and around some turns until–

James was standing there at the door to the library, flanked by Madame Pince.

“The library is closed,” Pince said robotically, eyes flickering to James before turning back inside.  

“The fuck it is–” Regulus called after her, trying to push past James.

“It is to people whose boyfriends threaten to let off dungbombs,” the Gryffindor said cheerfully, looking down at Regulus with a smug smile. “Now,” he paused, his expression turning somber. “You don’t have to talk. But at least go for a walk with me, yeah? Let yourself relax.”

All of the fight drained from Regulus at the words and he felt tears prick his eyes. “Fine. But if I ruin your jumper with my stupid crying , it’s on you, Potter,” he murmured, already stalking off.

“I’d be an honor,” James replied, jogging to catch up and grabbing his hand.

Tendency - Moonwater - @taylorswiftmicrofic - 320 words - AO3

“Go away,” Regulus snarls as the door to the empty classroom he is in creaks open behind him, not bothering turning away from gazing at the sun setting in the sky. 

The door closes and he assumes whoever that was left, until he hears footsteps on the stone floor and Remus muttering, “I’m not going anywhere.” 

“Why? I was a complete arse to you earlier.” 

“You got defensive over a sensitive topic; I have no place judging you for that.” 

Regulus takes a deep breath, then another and another. He doesn’t know how much time has passed for him to gather the courage to say the word he almost never utters. “I’m sorry, Remus.” 

“I accept your apology.” 

“It’s just…” 

Remus wraps his arm around his shoulder. “You can tell me anything.” 

“I have a tendency to push people away when they get too close, and the other day, I realised that I-” He cuts himself off, already having said too much and finishing that sentence would make things infinitely worse. 

“You realised what?” 

Regulus makes the mistake of looking at the Gryffindor for the first time since he entered the room and gets lost in his hazel eyes. How can someone so kind and pure want to be with him? He’s asked himself that so many times over the past few months. He's way too good for him, but he supposes the least Remus deserves for putting up with him for so long is the truth. “I love you, and that terrifies me. I have never felt this way about anyone before, not ever. But everyone I get close to leaves me and I- I don’t want to lose you.” 

“You could never lose me.” Remus’ calloused hand cradles his cheek. “Reg, I love you too.” 

“You do?” he asks, failing to hide the hope in his voice. 

He gently connects their lips. “I really, really do love you.” 

mirror - jegulus - @taylorswiftmicrofic - slightly NSFW - word count: 259

Sharing a flat with James Potter was both exactly as Regulus had imagined it would be and absolutely surprising in every way. 

After having stayed at the Potters’ during the summer for the past two years, Regulus had thought he’d gotten a good idea of what it would be like to live with his boyfriend–he was used to James taking an obnoxiously long time in the bathroom just to exit in a puff of steam looking exactly as he had before. He was used to the taller boy making messes in the kitchen and frequently needing to take out his wand to put out fires he truly wasn’t sure how he’d started. And, most of all, he was used to sharing a bed with the man he’d grown to adore above all else.

But what he wasn’t used to was the little things James now did–the small signs of affection, the tiny touches and quick kisses that made the whole thing seem so heart-meltingly domestic.

Notes left on his pillow, a slightly-charred meal in the fridge: these things made Regulus overwhelmed with gratitude. But the best part?

Exiting the shower, Regulus glanced at the mirror, a grin on his face. There, scrawled in the steam, was James’s messy writing: Nice arse. Can I grab it?

He chuckled, swiping at the condensation and using his fingers to write something underneath. He knew the marks would fade, but show up again the next time James showered. He would see the words: Nice face. Can I sit on it?

Ha. That should make things interesting tomorrow morning.

Mirror - Lility - @taylorswiftmicrofic - 267 words - Slightly NSFW - AO3

Lily takes deep breaths as she looks into the mirror opposite the bed with teary eyes, showing the two of them tangled in the sheets. She wishes she could bottle this moment up and relive it every day. She knows this was a one-time thing, she’s not the sort of person people want more with. She’s too high-maintenance, argumentative and hot-headed at times. No one wants her for more than sex; she’s had to learn that the hard way. Why was she so stupid to sleep with someone she genuinely likes? Now she has gone and ruined their friendship. 

As quietly as she can, she gets dressed and tiptoes to the door. 

“Where are you going?” Charity asks sleepily. 

“Home.” 

“Oh…you don’t want to stay? You can if you want.” 

“You don’t want me to.” 

She sits up, the dim light from the lamppost outside showing the sincerity in her eyes as she says, “I want you to stay.” 

“Really?” Lily whispers, absentmindedly taking a step towards the bed. 

“Really. I- I like you, Lils. I don’t have the habit of fucking people I don’t like.” 

She smiles as she jumps on the bed and crashes their lips together. Is this actually happening? Did she accidentally fall asleep after the most amazing night they spent together? 

“I take it that means you want to stay,” Charity breathes when they eventually part. 

“I’d love to stay with you.” 

When morning comes, Lily wakes up in the arms of the person she has dreamed about for so long and as they tenderly kiss, everything feels right in the world.