Thank you for the tag @groundzero-v! And also to @jenjentheboscostick who has tagged me in a lot of WIP games where I sadly haven't had anything to share... But now I have embarked on the very optimistic and very foolish mission of writing a prongsfoot The Martian AU! Wish me luck... I'm gonna need it...
“Hey,” Evans said, pausing in the doorway. “I know you and Sirius had a… special bond. Out of all of us, you two were the closest. So, take your time to grieve. I’m here anytime you need to talk—even if you just need to yell at me.” She smiled sadly. “Don’t bottle it up. We still have 236 days of space travel ahead of us. I need everyone as sharp as possible.”
“Yes, Commander,” James repeated, because he didn’t know what else to say.
He kept the lights on that night. He tried turning them off, but just like whenever he closed his eyes, all he saw was Sirius’s body, lying alone and forgotten, half-buried in the red sand that would preserve him like that forever. Any bacteria in his body would die from cold and desiccation before they could cause any kind of decomposition and—
James knocked his forehead sharply into the wall by his bunk. For once he wished he could turn off his doctor’s brain. He wanted those images out of his head. He wanted Sirius here—in his arms and alive even if just for a second. Kissing over the shell of his ear like he had done that day when they had made The Plan. The plan which would now never come to fruition, because James would be returning to Earth alone, leaving his heart and soul behind on the barren surface of a cruel, red planet, speeding further away from him by the second, uncaring of how many tears he cried.
Don't worry - if you've read or seen The Martian, you know Sirius is not really dead! Unfortunately for him, rats are scarce on Mars, so he will have to find another way to survive...
Tagging @nyxunderwood, @goldenlionprince @thistlecatfics and @diamondmeadow if you have anything you want to share (no pressure ❤️)
@jegulus-microfic | april 16 embarrass | words: 1,3k
this one is a lighter version of what happened to me during easter lol enjoy;3
tw: blood, hospital, stitches, needles, accident
part two
Regulus went out with Barty and Evan—nothing new.
They drank—also nothing new.
The fact that Regulus had forgotten how to ride a bike, however, was new.
Everyone always says you can’t forget how to ride a bike, and maybe it’s true, but when you do it for the first time in almost two years while drunk, it turns out to be quite hard.
The first few minutes were okay; he was a bit wobbly, but he managed to ride on his own. The problem started as they passed the old shrine. It was placed on a sharp turn, and Regulus, instead of turning left as he should, started turning right. He could see the bike hitting the curb and the pavement getting closer and closer with every passing second. Alright, he thought, I’m going to hit it. He didn’t even try to pull out his hands to cushion the fall; he just flew like a log on his face.
Regulus lay there for a few seconds, hearing his friends laughing behind him, and then started laughing himself. He stood up, dusted off his trousers, and touched his chin. There was a hole in it; Regulus could feel it.
“Hey, does it look bad?” He turned to face his friends, and that’s when he felt a thick liquid rolling down his neck.
“Reg, that looks fucking awful; we’re going to the hospital,” Evan said firmly, taking Regulus’ hand and leading him to sit a bit further from the road.
“Show me,” he said, laughing lightly, because what else has he left?
Barty snorted, taking his phone out and, a second later, blinding Regulus with its flash. When he saw the photo, he just started laughing harder.
“Oh fuck, I look so bad; we should call Pandora,” he choked out, trying to keep the wound closed (he didn’t manage it).
A few minutes later, Panda’s old peugeot stopped next to them. The girl grabbed his face and started cleaning it with wet wipes, mumbling how irresponsible Regulus is.
“Hold it,” she commended sternly. “You had one job, one, and still failed at it,” Pandora turned to address all three giggling boys. “Take his bike; I’ll text when we’re at the hospital.”
***
“Regulus, I swear to god, if you don’t shut up, I will—oh, thank fuck, take him away from me, please,” Pandora said to someone behind him. As Regulus turned around, he felt cured right then and there, because in front of him stood the most beautiful man he’s ever seen, with his messy curls, golden skin, and that stunning smile.
The man chuckled, and that’s when Regulus realised his jaw had gone slack.
“Are you Regulus?” the man asked.
“Are you God?” Reg replied before he could stop himself. Mr. Beautiful started straight out laughing at that.
“Well, I’m your doctor, so kinda? I guess?” The doctor answered, inviting Regulus to the treatment room. “What happened?”
Regulus considered all of his options: tell the truth and sound like an alcoholic who gets himself into accidents, or come up with some lie.
Because he didn’t feel like he could come up with a good one, Regulus chose the first option.
“Oh, I’m going to embarrass myself as fuck,” he giggled, while the doctor, whose name he couldn’t quite read from the name tag on his scrubs, started cleaning the wound. “Wait, can you—can you stop moving for a second?” The doctor did what he was asked to do. Regulus reached for the little piece of plastic attached to the pocket on the doctor's chest and finally got what he wanted. Letting go of the man’s clothing, Regulus continued, “So, James, did your parents teach you how to ride a bike?”
The doctor, James, snorted, “Yes, Regulus, they taught me how to ride a bike; why?”
“Well, I thought mine did too, but today I realised they did a shitty job at it.” James erupted into laughter, taking a step back from Regulus. “What? I mean it! Look, if they taught me better, I probably wouldn’t be here!”
“That, or if you drank a little less,” the taller man huffed, coming back closer to Regulus. He knew the doctor was right, but he still felt the need to roll his eyes.
After a few minutes, James told him it looked really bad and they would need to stitch him up.
“If you're afraid I'll disfigure your face for the rest of your life, I can call someone else,” Regulus heard, and he responded with a dismissive hand gesture.
“Stitch away; I don’t mind. Besides, scares are kinda badass,” another round of chuckles.
“Alright, just don’t make me laugh while I do it, or you really will look bad when I’m done.”
Regulus could hear some metal things clicking against each other and could feel the fear creeping up his neck. He started scraping the nail polish off his nails, waiting for the worst. James must’ve noticed somehow, because he asked if Regulus felt alright.
One moment Regulus was staring at the overhead lamp, and the next there was a blue cloth covering his face.
“What the fuck?” he grumbled, grabbing at it. “Take it off; I can’t see shit.”
He could hear James sighing, and then his face came back into view. Regulus couldn’t help but smile at the sight.
“If you weren’t so funny, I would put them all on you,” the other man muttered, throwing away the blue thing. “Okay, since you’re under the influence, I can’t administer local anaesthesia, but you have enough piercings to know the feeling.”
“Yeah, and I certainly do not do them for the feeling,” he mumbled, putting his hands underneath his buttocks.
James grabbed a needle with medical thread already pulled through it. He lowered himself closer to Regulus’ face and looked up into his eyes.
“Ready?”
“I will never be, so just go. Please,” was all Regulus could choke out while looking into those deep hazel eyes that crinkled at the response, probably from the smile hidden under the mask.
James looked back down at Reg’s chin and placed the needle in the wound area. As it went in and out, creating the first stitch, Regulus could feel a tear rolling down his temple.
“You okay?” James asked, looking into his eyes again. This time, only a whimper came out of Regulus. “Don’t worry, just one more,” the doctor said in a soothing tone, his eyes softening.
The second time was the same yet worse—Regulus wanted to run as he felt the needle just near his face.
After that, James cleaned him up again and gave him instructions on how to treat the wound.
“See you in two weeks; I’ll take them off,” he said, handing the discharge from the hospital to Regulus.
I’m drunk, Reg thought to himself. If it goes south, I can blame it on the vodka.
“Why not in two days?” he said out loud.
James looked at him, puzzled. “Excuse me?”
Regulus cleared his throat. “Why wait two weeks when we can see each other sooner?”
“I can’t take the stitches sooner then—"
“Not to take off the stitches, doctor,” he said, smirking slightly.
James eyes went wide. For a moment that felt like hours, they sat in silence, just looking at each other, waiting.
When the silence stretched out a bit more, Regulus decided to abort the mission.
“You know what? I’m drunk; I should just—"
“Does Tuesday at 8:00 sound good?” James said at the same time. It took Regulus a few seconds to register what he just heard, but when it finally got to him, he positively beamed at James.
“Yeah,” he said, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “Yes, that sounds lovely.”
give us some poly!doctor!marauders dialogue PLS!!!!
you can have a little sneak peek, as a treat :]
--
"Your heart rate seems irregularly fast," Doctor Potter stared down at you with measured confidence, "Is there anything in particular that's exciting you?"
You glanced down at the six hands on your body, roaming your bare skin brazenly, then back up at the three faces they belonged to. You swallowed roughly, though there was little saliva in your throat to aid you.
"No, Doctors." Your voice was shaky and contradicted your false confidence, "Nothing exciting."
For ff doctor James and doctors assistant Sirius groping you and touching you any where and everywhere and even shoving their fingers down your throat "just to check your bodys healthy"
freaky fridays
"dr. potter, would you mind holding the light?" you're staring up at the two men hovering over you as james comes into view to grab at the thin metal flashlight. sirius is to your right, snapping on a pair of blue medical gloves before bringing two fingers to tap at your lips "open up, sweetheart"
you can taste the latex of the gloves on your tongue as his fingers explore your mouth, following the line of your teeth before rubbing up and down the length of your tongue "gotta make sure your throat is nice and healthy, alright? don't be afraid to gag, m'checking to make sure everything's working as it should"
"you can hold my hand, darling" james reaches for your hand before you can reply—not that you could reply anyway with sirius' fingers down your throat—and places your linked hands on his lap. sirius' fingers reach for the back of your throat, massaging slow circles on your tongue as he goes. when you gag, he groans at sight of your throat contracting, and if you didn't know any better you'd think his pants were growing tighter under his coat.
the hand attached to james' brushes against something hard, and as your watery eyes find his he lets out a breathy moan, hips bucking into your hand so this time the touch is firmer against his clothed cock.
sirius pulls out his fingers, he spreads his digits and stares at the saliva that weaves between them. when he looks back to you, he has a dirty smirk on his face and his eyes are dark. "let's get your bottoms off, sweetheart"
big shout out to @frnkmush for helping me with this one, you’re such an angel 🫶🏼
tw: swearing, mentions of wounds, the1975’s song
part one
On Monday evening, Regulus received an Instagram message request from someone called jfprongs. He went to check on the person’s profile to see who they were, and—oh god.
At the sight of a radiant smile, bronze skin, and golden glasses, all memories from the night before evoked in him. He suddenly remembered making an absolute fool of himself by asking a doctor who just stitched him up on a date.
While he was drunk.
The first thing he did was send a screenshot of the profile and the message that read just a simple ‘Hi’ to the group chat.
i can fix him (i can’t)
Reg
<2 photos attached>
that’s the doctor from last night
what do i do??????????
Barty
skakksjsksjsjsjsjajsjsj
Evan
x2
Pandora
x3
what is he doing in your dms?
Reg
…
i may or may not have asked him out
There was a short pause before his phone started ringing.
“What the fuck do you mean you asked him out?” Pandora asked, amused. In the background, Regulus could hear Barty and Evan laughing hysterically.
“Well, I was drunk, and he was really hot. We should all be grateful I only did that instead of trying to convince him to fuck me on his desk,” he responded, trying to take off the bandage off of the fresh wound without making it hurt more than necessary.
On the other end of the line, he could hear Panda huffing a small laugh. “Yeah, thank god that whore didn’t come out.”
“Any—oh fuck, it hurts—anyways, what do I do now?” Regulus asked again, finally throwing away the old bandage and starting to clean the cut. He hated using disinfectants on any part of his body, really, but on the face, it felt worse than anything.
His friend hummed thoughtfully. “I think you should text him back and see how it goes,” and so he did.
⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆
On Tuesday evening, exactly at 7:36 p.m., Regulus was sitting on a bench in front of his apartment building and waiting for a grey Mercedes to arrive.
After he answered James yesterday, they talked a bit and agreed that Drunk Regulus’ idea about meeting sooner was actually a pretty good one. So he sat there, checking his phone every three seconds, hoping to see a message that would say ‘I’m here’.
He picked it up again when a grey car parked next to him and the passenger’s window rolled down.
“Hi Regulus, come in,” James invited him with a warm smile painted on his lips.
As Regulus took the front seat, the other man reached to the back, pulling a small bouquet of purple carnations.
“What’s that?” Regulus asked, confused. James eyes widened at that.
“Well, I assumed it’s a date, and I thought it would be a nice gesture, but if I overstepped or misread—“
“No, no, no, absolutely! That is a date, and those are lovely, I just—I'm not used to getting flowers.” He could feel his cheeks starting to burn a little when James smiled wildly, like a happy Golden Retriever.
They finally drove away from Regulus' block, heading towards the city center. The radio played some soft, lofi music that, added to the soft humming of the engine, started lulling Regulus to sleep. James must’ve noticed, because he handed his unlocked phone to him.
“Choose the next song; I’ll pick something after you,” the bronze-skinned man told him. Regulus, extremely eager, grabbed the phone and typed in the title he needed to hear right now. Thankfully, the chill music ended shortly after, and an 80s synth-pop melody came on.
“Somebody runnin’ through the field/Somebody shoulda stayed home/Somebody pickin’ up the body of somebody they were gettin’ to know,” Regulus hummed softly to Matty’s lyrics. James whipped his head at a light speed and looked at him with wide eyes. Regulus gave him a questioning look in response.
“First of all,” James began, “is it the one about the school shooting?” Regulus nodded, smirking. “Okay, that’s surprising. Second of all, you have quite a nice voice.” Now Regulus wasn’t smirking, just smiling sheepishly.
After ‘Looking for somebody (to love)’ ended, there was a disco bit, and Reg wanted to whine as soon as he recognised the song. The only thing that stopped him was that sparkle in James’ eyes.
And then the other man started singing.
“OOH, YOU CAN DANCE, YOU CAN JIVE, HAVING THE TIME OF YOUR LIFE!” and Regulus couldn’t help but laugh hysterically. “What? Don’t you like my vocals?” James chuckled, knowing damn well he sounded like a cat in heat.
“Oh no, your vocals are just as lovely as your smile,” the younger man giggled.
They continued to take turns choosing songs, becoming more and more comfortable, and singing louder and louder.
They reached the restaurant as Olivia’s ‘all-american bitch’ was coming to an end.
“Wait here,” said James, getting out of the car and running around it, just to open Regulus’ door. The older man held out his hand in a dramatic gesture.
Reg rolled his eyes, taking the hand and getting out as well.
“Such a gentleman,” he commented sarcastically, yet still, he could feel the warmth spread inside of his chest at this small move.
They walked into the restaurant hand in hand, talking lightly about their favourite type of pasta. James gave the hostess his name, and the woman led them to their table, giving them two menus. Regulus scanned it in search of the cheapest meal, so he could afford it. The restaurant wasn’t really fancy, but it was still expensive.
“15 pounds for Carbonara? Is it made of gold?” He mumbled, but apparently not quietly enough, because James replied, ‘Don’t worry, it’s on me’. This caught Regulus off guard. “What do you mean? I asked you out; I should be the one paying.”
“Yeah, no,” was all James said, and the other man kept looking at him in confusion. “You’re a student; I work full time; it’s only fair if I pay,” he continued, looking up from his menu.
Regulus opened his mouth as if to argue, but quickly shut them back up. “Yeah, okay, you have a point.”
After that, they talked only about what they should order, settling on a lasagna for James, pumpkin ravioli for Reg, and a bottle of rosé.
“So,” the older man started. “What do you study?”
“Oh, um, painting. I’m in art school,” he mumbled in response, taking a sip of his wine. “I’m not gonna lie, I know it won’t get me a lot of money, but I love it. I can’t imagine doing anything else, even if it means I’ll have to eat pesto pasta for the rest of my life.” He couldn’t exactly read James’ face; it looked kind of blank.
“Can I see any of your work?” he asked finally, sounding actually interested. So, of course, Regulus reached for his phone and started scrolling through it in search of the pieces he was most proud of. When James saw the one with the white stag running through a blue forest, he pointed at it and exclaimed, “That. I want that one in my living room,” and Regulus laughed lightly at him. “What? I mean it. How much do you want for it?”
“A thousand pounds!” the younger man kept chuckling.
“Deal.”
“Wait, are you for real?” He looked at the man opposite him in bewilderment, and as the other nodded with a smile, he couldn’t help but smile himself.
It was how the rest of the evening went—they ate, talked, drank wine, and talked some more. They left, again hand in hand, discussing a playlist for the ride home.
They were just a few blocks away from Regulus’ building when he decided to turn the radio down a little.
“Thank you,” he said, turning to James. “I had a really good time.”
“Would you like to do it again sometime?” The other man asked, also turning.
“Yeah, sometime,” he answered softly, pink blooming on his cheeks. He received a small smile back.
When they finally reached his block, Regulus didn’t get out immediately. Instead, he fully turned to face James and looked him deep in the eyes. The older man didn’t break eye contact; he only smiled brightly.
Please, kiss me. Please, kiss me. Please, kiss me.
James reached in his direction, brushing a loose curl from Regulus’ face back behind his ear. Instead of withdrawing his hand, James put it on his cheek, caressing it lightly with his thumb.
They stayed like that for a few seconds (or hours) before James broke the silence.
“Can I walk you to your flat?” and Reg just nodded in response.
They got out of the car the same way they did before. Holding hands, they walked up the stairs to the third floor. As they reached his door, Regulus turned to James again. And once more, James’ hand found its way to Reg’s cheek. The moment was tense, almost tangible. Until-
“Can I kiss you?” The older man whispered, like a secret.
Yesyesyes
Regulus only managed to nod once before he felt soft lips on his. It wasn’t an obscene kiss with a lot of teeth and tongs; it was gentle and sweet, like the first kiss in middle school. It didn’t last long either—far too quick for Reg’s liking. James rewarded him with another sweet kiss, this time on the forehead, before he pulled away with the same bright spark in his eye that appeared during ‘Dancing Queen’.
“Good night, Regulus,” he said softly, taking a small step back.
“Good night, Jamie—I mean James,” the older man chuckled, shaking his head.
“I like it; you can call me Jamie. I’ll see you soon.” And with that promise, he turned around and walked down the stairs, throwing just one last look at Regulus before disappearing on the floor below.
doctor!james giving you a very detailed physical and saying that those are the new rules
freaky fridays
make sure to check out @sunrisefairy and @babyjordy because they write some really hot doctor!james stuff
it's almost like the snap of his rubber gloves are the snap of a hypnotist. his words are laced with an authority that leaves you soft and malleable to his every whim. one second you're sitting on the examination bed gripping nervously at the hem of your skirt, and the next you're laying back with your legs up on the stirrups, still holding the hem of your skirt but this time to keep it out of his way.
his hands are like his words in that they're tender as they reach for you. "gotta make sure you're nice and healthy, sweetheart. make sure everything's working as it should" and then his hand is on your pussy as it glides through your slick folds. he was kind enough to apply some lubricant, although at this rate you're not sure that's necessary. "let me know if it hurts, okay honey?"
he works at you with a thumb circling your clit and two fingers scissoring inside you. and the pressure building in your tummy takes you by surprise "doctor, um.. I—oh... it feels—"
"that's alright, you can let go, darling" and when you do you can't quite believe your eyes as you watch your release spray all over his pristine white coat. and just as apologies start flying out of your mouth, he shushes you Kindly as he takes off his gloves with a smile.
"Well then, I believe monthly visits are in order"
