#microsar

[goneinsecondsxo]

jegulus | 1k words

lil jegulus I wrote for a secret santa for a dear friend. sirius finding out about jegulus at hogwarts

“James, no,” Regulus insists, pressing a hand to James’ chest in the corridor.

“Come on, Reg, please? No one’s around. It’s late, and I haven’t seen you in days.” James knows he’s being reckless, but he can’t help it. He didn’t mean to run into Regulus, but when he spotted him during his Prefect rounds, he couldn’t resist catching up, feeling drawn to him like a magnet. He’s missed him more than he probably should admit—more than what’s acceptable for two people who’ve been secretly dating for four months.

It all started by accident. A few months ago, James found himself in the library needing to study, but it was surprisingly crowded for a Thursday. He wandered around, searching for a place to sit, and the only available seat was at a table with Regulus. Reluctantly, Regulus let him join, and by the end of the night, James was completely smitten. After that, hallway run-ins where James would change course just to walk Regulus to class, and Quidditch changing room chats became weekly occurrences, and it all fell together naturally. Neither of them had expected to fall for the other, so they’ve been taking it slow. 

Now, four months later, they’re still together, and James couldn’t be happier. But with how protective Sirius is of his brother, Regulus has insisted they keep the whole thing a secret. James gets it, but part of him hates lying to his best friend. He’s been trying to convince Regulus that they should tell him now that they’re serious. Thankfully, Regulus is warming to the idea.

“We could go back to my dorm? I think Remus, Sirius, and Pete are at the library,” James offers.

“After the other day when I was trapped in your room under the invisibility cloak, I don’t want to take any chances. I missed Potions because of that, and Sirius nearly caught us.” 

“But he didn’t,” James grins. Regulus rolls his eyes, the way James loves because he only does it when he has no snarky comment to say back.

“Anyone could find us here, we’re not exactly hidden.” Regulus’ body betrays his words when he steps closer to James, his hands reaching out for his robes. James instinctively brings him in, pulling their bodies flush. 

Running a hand through the soft strands of Regulus’ curls, he tips his head back, their eyes meeting. “Regulus,” James starts, feeling completely lost in his storm grey eyes, “I really want to kiss you. Can I kiss you?”

There’s a war going on behind Regulus’ eyes, weighing his options, debating the risks. Ultimately, he gives in, sending James a small nod before leaning up. The moment their lips touch, the rest of the world falls away. There’s only thoughts of RegulusRegulusRegulus.

This is what always happens with the two of them. They get utterly sucked into each other’s orbit, and are unable to notice anything else. Even the other day in James’ dorm, they were much too close to getting caught, not realising the door had clicked open until they heard Sirius and Peter’s voices. Regulus practically rolled off the bed, and James had to cough and stomp his foot to cover the thud of Regulus’ body hitting  the floor as he covered himself with the cloak.

“James, I missed you,” Regulus whispers against his lips, and it makes James' heart sing. It always takes a few minutes for Regulus’ walls to come down, but when they do, when he gets soft and open with how he feels—there’s nothing like it.

Heart fluttering from Regulus’ words and his body lit up from Regulus’ touch, James stops worrying about where they are. Unfortunately, he probably should start paying more attention.

“What in Merlin’s name is this?”

They pull apart, James whirling around to find Sirius. His arms are crossed, a scowl on his face, and he looks pissed. James has half a mind to run, but that thought fades when he turns and sees Regulus, whose expression mirrors Sirius'—scowl and everything.

“What does it look like, Sirius? I’m kissing James,” Regulus says dryly. 

“I can see that, Regulus. What I’m confused about is why it doesn’t look to me like a first kiss,” Sirius responds. 

James’ palms start to sweat. If there’s one place you don’t want to be, it’s in the middle of a fight between the Black Brothers. “Sirius, we were going to tell you—”

“Tell me what? That you’ve been kissing my brother? Cus it sure doesn’t seem like you were going to tell me.”

“I—we—the thing is—” James is floundering. He knows it, and he doesn’t know how to fix it.

“We’ve been seeing each other for four months. We weren’t going to tell you unless it became something worth telling. Which it has, so surprise! James and I are dating.”

Heart flooding with warmth, James can’t help but look at Regulus, likely with a dopey look on his face. Regulus’ lips twitch quickly when his eyes shift sidelong to James.

“Please don’t be mad, Sirius. I really like him. I wanted to tell you, I swear—”

“Prongs, relax.” Sirius’ expression softens into a small smile as he steps forward, placing his hands on James’ shoulders. “I’ve had a hunch about you two for a while. The way you look at each other? It’s not hard to figure out. Also, you’re not as sneaky as you think. I knew Regulus was in the dorm the other day, why do you think I droned on about nothing for an hour?” Sirius grins. “Honestly, I’m ecstatic. My best friend and my brother? How could it get better? Just don’t hurt each other, and I’m all for it.”

Shocked, James looks back at Regulus before his head turns towards Sirius, a wide smile on his face. 

“You’re really fine with this?” Regulus asks.

“I’m fine with it. I’d just prefer not to see it. And don’t ever lie to me again, James.”

James smiles. “Wouldn’t think of it.How did you even end up over here, anyway? This isn’t on the way back to the dorm.”

Sirius pulls the map from his pocket, waving it in the air. “Next time you try to hide something from me, maybe don’t forget we have a map that shows us where everyone in the castle is.” His lips curl into a mischievous smirk and James laughs.

“You have a map that shows you where everyone is in the castle?” Regulus blurts out in disbelief.

Whipping their heads toward him, Sirius and James share a sidelong glance.

“Shit,” they say in unison.

[goneinsecondsxo]

jegulus | 1.3k | hockey player x figure skater |

Regulus walks into the rink, skates in hand, bag slung over his shoulder ready to practice. Finals are fast approaching, and he needs to perfect a few of his more difficult moves. It’s late, and he knows the rink is usually empty at this hour, especially since the hockey team doesn’t practice on Tuesdays.

He’s looking forward to the quiet solitude, the chance to focus without distractions. But as he steps inside, the unmistakable sound of skates gliding over ice and the sharp slap of a puck hits his ears. Regulus groans internally, rolling his eyes as he approaches, less than excited to see who he’s going to have to kick off the ice tonight.

Potter.

He should have fucking known. Dropping his bag with a loud thud Regulus walks to the edge of the rink, eyes trained on the familiar body gliding around the ice. James skates like the ice is a natural extension of his body. Effortless, smooth, and fast. He’s bloody fit, and Regulus absolutely hates him for it. Hates how easy he makes it look, how James glides in perfect circles, tracking the puck with precision, then seamlessly sending it into the goal. 

Regulus has despised hockey players his entire life. Always fighting for ice time, even back when he was a teenager in his hometown. He thought things might be different at University, but it turns out hockey players are just as insufferable here as they were back home. And James? He’s the worst. Because he’s nice. Regulus can’t stand how genuinely kind James is, as if being captain of the University hockey team somehow makes his niceness even more unbearable. But Regulus isn’t buying it. Refuses to buy it no matter how many interactions he and James have proving otherwise. He’s not sure how someone could be so consistently kind, especially someone with so much power and ego wrapped up in their position. 

“Oi! Potter!” Regulus calls from the side of the ice. James whips his head, hazel eyes piercing directly into Regulus’ as a sly smile fits his face. He skates over nonchalantly, coming right up to where Regulus stands, only the boards between them.

“Black, what are you doing here?” James takes off his gloves and helmet.

“Well, I came to practice, seeing as there’s a competition coming up and there’s usually no one here this late. Why am I not surprised to run into you though? You always seem to just be here whenever I don’t want you around. Which, now that I think of it, is always. Like a gnat.”

James grins, “Well, I have a big game this weekend, so I wanted to practice a few drills on my own. Plus, it’s not like we signed up for the ice, so it really is free reign, you know?” He says, leaning against the boards and into Regulus’ space. 

“Okay, but I need the ice now. You’ve had your time, now go.” Regulus waves his hand out in a shooing motion and James responds by laughing. Laughing.

Instantly the heat of annoyance extends through Regulus’ entire body.

“I’ve got an idea,” James says with a grin. “What if we shared? I take one half, and you take the other?”

Regulus rolls his eyes. “Over my dead body am I sharing the ice with you.”

“Well, write me an obituary then, because I’m not leaving. I have every right to be here, same as you.”

Regulus huffs. “I need the whole rink to practice, Potter. I can’t get enough speed without it.”

“No, you don’t, Regulus. You just don’t want to share it with me. Either split it down the middle, or you can leave. I was here first.”

James turns and skates off, leaving Regulus to make up his mind. With a frustrated sigh, Regulus resigns himself to sharing the ice, knowing deep down he really does need the practice.

He can ignore James.

He can.

Regulus groans as he sits down to lace up his skates. Almost all of his annoyance fades the second he hits the ice, the smooth glide calming him as he begins to meticulously practice his routine on his half of the rink.

But he can feel James’ eyes on him, the weight of his gaze following every move. Despite his focus, Regulus can't shake the sense of being watched as he skates, jumps, and spins. He tries to shake the feeling of James’ eyes as he gears up for the move he needs to practice the most: his hydroblade. He starts skating, slowly bending his leg and sinking closer to the ground until the ice is underneath his fingertips. A smile pulls at his lips as he nails the move, intensely focused. As he stands back up, slowing down to a stop, he can't help but let out an excited yelp.

The sound of clapping rings in the air and he turns to see James standing and cheering him on. Regulus attempts to roll his eyes, but the smile pulling at his lips betrays him. Skating over to where James is, he sends him a pointed look. 

“Are you really cheering for me right now?” His voice comes out like honey, which is unintended, but with a bitter edge to it.

“Well, yeah, of course! That was amazing! You look incredible on the ice, you know. Angelic almost.”

They’re only a few inches apart, and Regulus hates the way his cheeks heat at the compliment and his breath hitches when James closes in on him. 

“You okay, Black?” James says with a self-satisfied smirk.

“M’fine,” Regulus chokes out, his voice faltering as James skates another inch closer.

“Am I making you nervous?” James asks, a cheeky smile tugging at his lips as he leans in a little closer.

“No, you could never make me nervous.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” James teases, his grin widening. “You seem a little tense right now.”

Unfortunately, they’ve been here before. As nice as James is, he does also have that cocky side to him. The one that reminds Regulus how he’s made it so far in this sport, how he has his entire team wrapped around his finger. And that’s what makes this game between them so fun.

Regulus musters up whatever strength he has in him to push back. Closing in another inch too, the space between them is almost nonexistent now.

“Are you sure I’m the only one who’s nervous?” Regulus asks with a tilt of his head.

James’ pupils blow wide, and Regulus tracks the way his Adam's apple bobs, eyes flicking down briefly to Regulus’ lips.

Their breath mingles in the close space between them, and Regulus can practically hear his own heart pounding in his ears. He never knows which one of them will break first, but it’s inevitable that one of them will. Whether it’s locker rooms, parties, or empty classrooms, somehow he and James always find each other.

Regulus hates it. But he also loves it. Craves it. The bickering, the teasing, the push and pull—it’s a game they can’t seem to quit. And Regulus honestly isn’t sure which one of them is winning anymore.

However, when James leans in, his lips brushing the spot behind Regulus’ ear—the one that drives them both crazy—He decides he doesn’t even care anymore. Not when James is this close to him, the smell of his sweat filling Regulus’ senses, and the thought of his skin being within reach makes it all the more intense.

“Get in the penalty box, James,” Regulus whispers, savoring the low rumble that escapes from him.

“So it’s James now?” There’s a glimmer in his eye, one that pisses Regulus off. “I had a feeling we’d end up here,” James says confidently, his hand wrapping around Regulus’ as they skate toward the box. “We always do.”

“Fuck you, James,” Regulus mutters, giving James a gentle shove into the box.

“Oh, I intend to, sweetheart. A nice reward for nailing that trick.”

Regulus tries to stifle the sound caught in his throat, but it slips out anyway as James pulls him into a kiss, and he melts into it. Just like he always does.

Thank god no one ever shows up to the rink this late.

[goneinsecondsxo]

here to send a prompt unprompted (hehe)

“I’m just so tired of it all. But never of you.” + bakudeku :)

now expanded and posted on ao3: read here!

i am a shaking dog rn over this you have no idea (tho you probably do bc you know how much i love these two) anyway, this got away from me...

my hero academia manga/anime spoilers | 1.3k

*ੈ✴︎⋆.*ੈ✴︎⋆.*ੈ✴︎⋆.

Katsuki is exhausted. Though, that's to be expected when you've just fought a war. Not only fought a war, but died in that war, came back, and continued fighting well past your body's limits. That's just the physical exhaustion, though. Mentally and emotionally? Katsuki's a mess. Healing is happening far slower than he wants it to, and the frustration simmers constantly under his skin—anger and rage rising up every time he tries to force himself beyond what he’s ready for. It spills out in his screams and groans, in the uncontrolled explosions that burst from his palms when he can’t manage a simple fucking task, when someone tells him, again, that he’s still not cleared to spar or train.

And then there are the nightmares. The memories that replay themselves the second he closes his eyes. Shigaraki sneering that Katsuki’s corpse would make a fine present for Izuku—like some fucking maniac. The icy fear that shot through him when he realized he was dying, that he wouldn’t see Izuku again, wouldn’t have the chance to see him win. Because deep down, at some point during that fight, Katsuki had accepted it: he wasn’t meant to survive that battle. His role was to weaken Shigaraki enough that Izuku could finish it. But somehow, by some miracle thanks to Jeanist and Edgeshot, he did come back. He did get to watch Izuku win, and now, a few months later, he’s here with his arm wrapped around that same boy as he sleeps.

The only sounds in his room are the patter of rain against the window and the steady tick of the clock on his bedside table—an incessant irritation soothed only by the warm breath against his chest and the soft green curls his fingers are currently tangled in.

He turns his head to read the time: 2:43 a.m. Fuck. Fuckin’ nightmares, fuckin’ memories—every last thing Katsuki wants nothing to do with. He’s exhausted, bone-deep, but sleep keeps evading him. Or maybe he’s the one evading sleep.

The arm wrapped around Izuku tightens before he registers the movement, pulling him closer. They’ve needed this since the war: the proximity, the warmth, the grounding press of skin to skin. It’s easier to wake from a nightmare when the other is already there. Easier to place a palm over a heartbeat, to feel breath against ribs, when fear snaps them awake and floods their veins.

Izuku’s nightmares are worse—usually because Katsuki is in the center of them. It took Izuku a while to finally open up about it, but even before he did, Katsuki already knew. Knew his nightmares were filled of visions of his own dead body, chest flayed open while Shigaraki taunted him, his mind filled with the overwhelming weight of guilt for being late. None of which was Izuku’s fault to begin with.

But that doesn’t really matter, does it? Not to Izuku, at least. Katsuki can say it a thousand times, but the guilt still clings to him—settling in the shadows beneath his eyes, in the tightening of his fingers around Katsuki’s arm in the middle of the night, the spilling out of hushed apologies when he thinks Katsuki is asleep.

Katsuki understands it though. He still lives with his own guilt over Izuku, for the years of treating him like he was nothing. Regardless of how much Izuku tells him he has nothing to atone for, it doesn't really matter. The guilt lingers all the same.

The rain outside picks up, thunder rumbling in the distance, and Katsuki sighs along with it in annoyance as the clock keeps ticking. He just wants to get some fucking sleep.

“Kacchan?” Izuku’s voice is quiet, barely audible and sleep-thick.

Damn it, he must’ve been too loud. Izuku had finally fallen into a deep sleep, and last night he’d had not one but two nightmares that kept him awake until dawn slipped through the curtains. He deserved this rest. “Yeah, nerd?”

“You’re awake? Did you have a nightmare?” Izuku’s scarred hand comes up to rub at his eyes, pools of emerald looking up at him from where his head lays on Katsuki’s chest.

“S’fine, it’s nothing. Go back to sleep.”

“But you’re not sleeping.”

“Yeah, ’cause I’m too fuckin’ distracted by all the noises in here and the storm outside and the damn clock ticking and—”

Izuku straightens up a little, jaw flexing as he thinks, though his eyes flick away. Katsuki’s grip tightens, not wanting to let him to move from where they are.

“Oi, what are you doing?”

“I’m just—look, would you sleep better if I went back to my room?” Izuku asks, voice steady but hesitant at the edges. “I don’t want to make it worse. You need your rest, especially if you’ve been up awhile. You’re still healing, and sleeping is part of that. And I know we’ve been doing this for a while, but if I’m making it harder, then—”

It’s true, they have been doing this for a while. Ever since the first night they were back in the dorms after the war; Katsuki had been laying in bed unable to fall asleep after a particularly bad nightmare, and heard three raps at his door. So light he thought he might have imagined them. That is, until he heard a quiet Kacchan, are you awake? Voice so shaky, like he’d been crying, and Katsuki’s chest twisted at the sound. Feet instantly padding across the room to let him in. They didn’t talk about it, either. He simply grabbed Izuku’s wrist and lead him to his bed, bodies curling in on each other. 

Izuku had whispered, you were dead, and Katsuki whispered back, I’m right here. And that was that. It’s been the same thing every night since. Except now they don’t bother going to bed alone, waiting for one of them to drift to the other’s door. They gave up on that—sleep comes easier when they’re together.

Izuku keeps mumbling. “If I’ve overstayed my welcome and you want to sleep alone, I can go—”

“Hey,” Katsuki starts, but Izuku just keeps going, muttering about how maybe they should’ve talked about this whole sleeping-together thing, about how Katsuki needs proper rest. It starts to piss him off. “Nerd—” Izuku still doesn’t stop. “Izuku.”

At the sound of his name, he finally looks at Katsuki again.

“Stop your damn mumbling. You’re still half asleep and don’t know what you’re saying. You already know I sleep better when you’re here and I don’t do anything I don’t want to do, so if I wanted you gone, you’d be gone.”

Izuku’s brows pull together, like he’s taking in the words Katsuki is saying, letting them sink in. “Kacchan, what are we doing?” He settles back into Katsuki’s chest, hand splaying across the scars over his heart, dragging across the raised and jagged skin before moving down to the one on his gut. 

“Hopefully sleeping.”

Izuku’s head snaps up with a sharp glare. Katsuki lets his lip curl up slightly.

The scarred hand on his torso doesn’t stop its movements, so Katsuki reaches down and covers it with his own, letting a rare sliver of vulnerability slip through. It’s never been easy to open up, not even with Izuku, but somehow Izuku is the one person he keeps trying for, the only one he wants to show those hidden parts of himself to, regardless of how it makes him feel.

The clock keeps ticking. Too loud.

“I’m just… I’m so tired of everything. The nightmares, my stupid fucking healing taking so long, the damn rain outside, and that shitty clock that won’t shut up." His eyes snap down to meet Izuku's. "But never of you, Izuku. Never of you."

Izuku pushes up off Katsuki’s chest and reaches over him, grabbing the clock sitting on his bedside table. 

“What the hell are you doing, nerd?”

Izuku doesn’t answer, he simply sits back against the headboard and takes the batteries out of the clock before tossing them all on the floor.

“There. One thing taken care of.”

Relief floods over Katsuki now that the ticking has stopped, and when Izuku lays back down, they face each other. Breath mingling, eyes locked on each other. The weight of Izuku’s stare makes something flutter in Katsuki’s chest. He chalks it up to his shitty heart. 

“Go to sleep, Izuku.”

Izuku grins softly, nuzzling into the crook of Katsuki’s neck as their bodies intertwine. Katsuki closes his eyes, attuning himself to the gentle rise and fall of Izuku’s chest against his own. Slowly, the world fades away, and sleep finally claims them both.

[goneinsecondsxo]

jerejean, see 👀

It almost wasn’t fair how good looking Jean was when he wasn’t trying. After months of sharing a room, Jeremy was getting pretty good at not letting his stare linger when Jean would come in after a shower with only a towel wrapped around his waist, or back from a run with a t-shirt clinging to his body and sweat trickling down his neck.

But right now? Well, Jeremy wasn’t doing too well with the whole don’t linger thing. Not when he walked into their room and found Jean doing pushups on the floor.

No, Jeremy was definitely lingering, and it only took Jean a moment to notice.

“Oh, sorry, I am taking up the whole floor aren’t I?” Jean stood back up, wiping the sweat from his brow and Jeremy had to bite his tongue not to beg him to continue his workout. Jeremy could watch, that would be fine.

Jean stared at him a moment before Jeremy realized he must be making some sort of face.

“Jeremy?”

That snapped him out of it. He shook his head like he could shake away the downright inappropriate thoughts that had started to filter into his mind of late when it came to his friend. He hoped Jean couldn’t see it.

“Sorry, yeah! No need to stop on my account.” Okay, so maybe Jeremy was going to tell him to continue. Okay then. “I’m, um, just going to study, take all the space you need.”

Jean shrugged before complaining about how hot it was in their room in French - which Jeremy was able to pick up, and even responded himself in the language. Jean smirked ever so slightly, right in the corner of his mouth before peeling his shirt off and continuing his workout.

Jeremy barely looked at his textbooks.

send a ship + a word for a few sentences

[goneinsecondsxo]

jegulus + 46 <3

46. "go back to sleep" for this ask game

Regulus is pulled from sleep by two things: a soft, steady humming and the rhythmic clicking of a Rubik's Cube. His eyes flutter open, and he shifts to find James sitting up in bed, a small reading light clipped to the headboard casting a warm glow. James is focused, brow furrowed as he twists the cube, lost in his thoughts.

"James, it’s—" Regulus squints at the clock, "3:15 in the morning."

James looks up, a sheepish expression crossing his face. "Sorry, did I wake you?"

Regulus isn’t surprised. He knows how James gets. The late hours always bring a restless mind, his anxiety at its worst when there’s nothing to occupy him. The Rubik’s Cube was Regulus' solution, something to distract him when sleep just won’t come.

"It’s fine." Regulus sits up, reaching for the bedside lamp and flicking it on. A soft glow fills the room, casting shadows on the walls.

"You still haven’t solved it?" Regulus teases. "You know you could just look up a cheat code, or I could—"

"No," James interrupts, his voice firm but playful, eyes flashing with determination. "I told you, I want to figure it out myself."

Regulus smirks, leaning back against the pillows. "Alright, alright. How long have you been awake?"

"Maybe an hour," James admits, shrugging slightly.

Regulus tilts his head, studying him. "Anything I can do to help?"

James shakes his head, pressing a gentle kiss into Regulus' curls. "Nah, I’ll get tired eventually. Go back to sleep."

Regulus pauses, considering. "Are you sure? I don’t mind staying up with you. We can talk, if you want."

James looks down at him, his smile softening as he leans in to kiss Regulus properly, lips warm and lingering. "I’m sure," he murmurs. "Now turn off the light. You need your beauty sleep."

With a final kiss to James’ shoulder, Regulus turns off the lamp and settles back into bed, drifting off to the familiar sound of the Rubik's cube.

[goneinsecondsxo]

hiya, i'm sar! 25↑ mdni ⟡ find me: ao3

loverboy, secret third thing best friends, & tragic siblings enthusiast normal girl being normal about fushiguro megumi + bakugou katsuki

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writer's picks ↓

sincerity is scary: fushiguro megumi/itadori yuuji | 16/? | 100k+ | E | wip

love & other outdoor hazards: bakugou katsuki/izuku midoriya | 18k | E

fics n stuff

jujutsu kaisen

got lovesick all over my bed: 1/1 | 7k | itafushi | E

such sweet days : 1/1 | 4k | itafushi | E

my hero academia

in a good way: bakugou katsuki/izuku midoriya | 7.3k | E

waiting under streetlight: bakugou katsuki/midoriya izuku | 11.8k | E

savior complex: 1/1 | 3.2k | bakugou katsuki/izuku midoriya | T

to be known the way you should: 1/1 | 2.8k | bakugou katsuki/izuku midoriya | T

aftg

a conversation stuck in your throat: 1/1 | 13.3k | jerejean | E

thoroughfare: 1/1 | 30k | jerejean | M

the rapture of our innocence: 1/1 | 3.6k | jean & elodie | G

link click / shiguang daili ren

you and i, we’re alive (don’t let go): 1/1 | 2.5k | shiguang | E

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[ multifandom ] anime/manga mostly, but lots of other things too

[goneinsecondsxo]

very late but either 44 or 75 for jerejean

jerejean my beloveds <3 im sure ill get around to 75 but lets do 44 for now.

//

Jean sits in the middle of his bed, the afternoon light spilling into the room and coating it in a bit of a gold sheen. A piece of dust floats in the air, reflecting in the rays shining in from the window, and it momentarily takes his attention away from the assignment glaring at him on his laptop.

Finals are soon, and Jean has been fully in study mode. Frankly, his mind is a bit fuzzy right now after so many hours staring at a screen going over advanced economics.

So it's not his fault when his mouth practically drops open as jeremy enters the room. Blonde waves wet and clinging to the back of his neck, water droplets slipping down against his freckled skin.

But as Jean's eyes move down his body against his will — because usually he can control his gaze — a small noise of surprise rumbles in the back of his throat as Jeremy passes in front of him to get to his own bed.

“Is that my shirt?” he blurts out when his eyes snap to the Moreau plastered across Jeremy’s back.

Jeremy whirls around, “Oh, is it?" he spins, trying to turn his head to see the back of his shirt like a dog chasing it's tail. "Must have grabbed the wrong one from the laundry. I can take it off, if you want?"

Something molten rushes to Jean's core. When Jeremy's fingers fall to the hem of the shirt, he finds himself in a very precarious predicament.

Jean has two options: demand he take it off and be face to face with a shirtless Jeremy (something he's still not used to even after so many months of Jeremy parading around and whipping it off at every opportunity) or let him keep it on, and try not to get too worked up seeing his name, Jean's name, on his body.

Decisions, decisions.

Ultimately, the possessive side of Jean wins out.

"No, keep it on." Jean is surprised at the tone he says that in, and doesn't miss the way Jeremy's cheeks go the lightest shade of pink. "It is...not a problem."

Jeremy's lip curls up to the side, his brown eyes warm and reverant. A muttered, great, before he's flopped onto his bed stomach first leaving the perfect view of blonde hair and Jean's last name.

There's no way he's getting any studying done now. And Jean wonders for a moment if this misshap was truly an accident at all.

It's been undeniable lately, the energy between them. A rubber band pulling tighter and tighter, and seeing Jeremy in Jean's shirt was very close to being the thing that made it finally snap.

Honestly? It still might.

drabble game

[goneinsecondsxo]

that's just how it goes

jegulus | messy exes | 2k | nsfw | sprinkle of cheating |

Regulus knew this was a bad idea. There was no reason for James to come back to his flat tonight, and yet here he is. The darkness of his bedroom cocooning them, as though the rest of the world doesn't matter, doesn’t exist. Like ivy has grown around them keeping them trapped here in this moment and they can pretend all their problems are imaginary.

“Regulus,” James whispers against his neck, for no other reason than just to taste his name, he’s sure. The smell of alcohol on his breath lingering still, surely still on Regulus’ breath too. 

The funny thing is that Regulus didn’t even want to go out tonight. But Lily dragged him anyway. Promises of you’ll have fun, it’s been so long, Pandora and I miss you. And it’s true, Regulus hasn’t seen them much since starting his graduate program. But his studies come first, they’ll always come first. So when he showed up at the pub, he realized how much he missed everyone. Barty and Evan were practically hanging off of him, like they tend to do, Pandora and Lily were smiling, so Regulus let himself indulge. He probably should have said no to the third drink, but he was having so much fun. It had been so long since he had fun.

Then the night took a turn. Regulus went to the bar to grab a glass of water, attempting to offset the sharp buzz in his mind, and when he turned around, the breath was knocked from him completely.

James. 

They hadn’t seen each other in nearly a year, not since James moved three hours away, but Regulus hadn’t gone a single day without thinking of him. Two years of a relationship don’t easily fade away, especially when the only thing that tore them apart was circumstance. Well, not the only thing, Regulus admits. Toward the end, they both said things, hurtful things, that left scars harder to heal than distance ever could.

Looking across the bar at James was like looking at his own mangled heart outside of his chest. His ribs split open and echoing the empty space where it used to be, the bloody mess of it James still holding in his hands, and probably always will.

And when James caught his gaze and gave him a small smile, it felt as though a flower bloomed suddenly, fragile and beautiful, amidst the wreckage of his caved-in chest.

Like magnets, they were drawn to each other. Fumbling through awkward hellos and how are yous, slipping quickly into familiar touches, soft glances, and palpable tension that hummed between them.

Deciding to go home together was easy—almost as if it wasn’t even a question between them. Regulus should have anticipated the reactions from his friends: murmurs of it’s not a good idea, this never turns out well for you, and are you sure? But of course, Regulus was sure, because it was James. He would always be sure of James, no matter how much they’d hurt each other, or how much they likely will again. What was once beautiful between them had twisted into something painful, love now tangled with hurt, binding them both together in a way that made them willing to face that pain all over again whenever the opportunity arose. 

The ride back to Regulus’ was quiet. A hand on the thigh, a cheek rested on a shoulder, lips pressed to a temple.

“You want this?” James had asked.

“Always,” Regulus answered. 

It’s a sigh of relief when they both slide into Regulus’ bed, his back against James’ chest. It’s a delicate dance they both know well, careful not to push things too far. The way their bodies slot together like the last missing pieces of a puzzle you thought were lost and finally found after months only makes it worse. James’ hand splayed across the expanse of Regulus’ stomach, finger lightly flicking his navel piercing, skin touching skin everywhere they can. 

“I miss you,” James says, lips grazing so lightly along Regulus’ neck, a ghost of a feeling.

 He cranes it to give James better access against his better judgement. “You shouldn’t say things like that.”

“I’m just telling the truth.”

James pulls Regulus’ body closer, as though they could fuse together, and Regulus lets him. James could flay him open and take him apart completely, muscle by muscle, bone by bone, and Regulus would be okay with it. 

“James, we shouldn’t,” Regulus says unconvincingly to even himself.

“You keep saying that word,” James whines.

“What?”

“Shouldn’t.”

“It’s true,” Regulus admits, even though it feels like a lie in his mouth.

“Do you want me to stop? Just say the word Reg, and I’ll stop, you know I will.” And Regulus knows it’s true. One word and this would end, James would roll over, and maybe only their shoulders would touch and neither of them would sleep. Instead they’d lie there awake silently, not saying any of the things going through their minds. “Tell me, do you want me to stop?” James asks again.

“No–no I don’t want you to stop.” It’s a whisper, a hint of desperation in his tone.

So James doesn’t. His hands once again pulling Regulus against him, fingers squeezing his waist as a low noise rumbles in the back of his throat, vibrating against Regulus’ too hot skin.

“James.” This time it’s Regulus, saying his name just because he likes how it tastes in his mouth.

“Please.” He noses along Regulus neck again, lips pressing to that spot behind his ear that always drove the both of them crazy. 

It’s that word—that soft, desperate plea—that fractures Regulus. Shifting his hips back, their bodies grinding together like they can’t help it, it feels inevitable, as if everything leading up to this was destined the moment their eyes met across the bar. James presses a kiss to his neck, slow and deliberate now, but neither of them makes a move to turn their bodies, to face each other and the truth of what’s happening. A part of Regulus knows they both understand that if they do, this fragile moment will shatter. They won’t be able to stop, not once they acknowledge everything between them. He can’t bear to look into James’ hazel eyes—the eyes that have always seen him more clearly than anyone ever could. Eyes that read him like an old, well-worn book, every word etched into James’ memory.

Regulus’ eyes slip shut, falling into the sensations of his body. James’ skin, the calluses on his hands as they roam up and down his sides, soft lips that he’s missed sucking bruises into his neck, sending him to a place he hasn’t been able to reach since he and James broke up.

At some point, they lose the small shreds of clothing either of them were wearing, their bare bodies flush. One of Regulus’ hands has reached behind him, tugging at the strands of James’ wild hair, pulling small gasps and quiet moans from him, the sounds bringing goosebumps to Regulus’ skin. James is hard against his back, and all Regulus wants is to feel James inside him, but he knows they shouldn’t. If he does, if they do, Regulus will be back at square one, grieving the relationship between them, grieving the lost friendship between them. And that might have been more painful than any of it. When trust is already difficult, losing one of the few people that you’ve given it to is world shattering.

James must feel the same way, and when his cock slips between Regulus’ thighs, he welcomes it. Squeezing his legs around it when it slides back and forth. The metal of James’ piercing, the single bar on the underside of his shaft, rubs against his legs and Regulus moans loud and filthy.

“Fuck, James, I missed you. I miss you,” Regulus babbles. 

James’ hips keep rolling forward, his hand tightly gripped to Regulus’ hips, and Regulus hopes it leaves a mark. Something to remind him this was real, this happened. James was here, and his again if only for a minute. 

“I’m sorry, Reg. I–shit–”

“Don’t, not now. Don’t ruin it.”

Regulus feels the subtle nod of James’ head as his teeth nip his ear. Whimpers falling past his lips and worming their way into Regulus’ eardrum and deep into his bones.

“Touch yourself, love. Please, for me?”

Again, Regulus doesn’t stand a chance when James says please. So his free hand moves to fist around his cock, achingly hard and leaking against his stomach. Regulus times his own strokes with James’ thrusts between his thighs, and for a moment, he can almost convince himself they’re back a year ago. Before everything changed, when things were easy, when they were happy. 

But beneath the surface, there’s a heaviness, a quiet sadness between them that hangs in the air, persistent and unspoken. It lingers like tangled vines, creeping up the walls of an old building, vines you tear away, only for them to grow back, stronger each time, no matter how hard you try to rid yourself of them. 

Too much has happened, and things will never go back to how they were. 

But for now, they have this—this fleeting moment. And right now they can make each other feel good, even if it’s laced with pain. Like a bruise that’s healing, the kind that stings when you touch it, but in a strange way, the pain feels almost soothing, a reminder that something broken can still feel alive.

Both of their movements grow faster, more erratic. Whines mingle in the air and Regulus isn’t sure who they belong to. Whispers of please, more, faster, I still love you. 

James’ hand leaves Regulus’ hip, and for a second he mourns the loss of his touch, until there’s a pressure around his throat. A familiar touch that brings Regulus to the edge instantly. James squeezes under his jaw, tongue licking along his neck, rumbling vibrations against his back as James chases his own release. 

Heat builds low in Regulus’ core. Heat in his core and pain in his chest as his hips shift back and closer to James. Both of them lost in the moment, lost in each other. 

It’s not surprising, when they come together, streaks of white spilling onto the bed. Another tangible example that this was real, that it happened, that James is here. 

James is here.

Here.

And fuck, Regulus misses him so much.

Bodies twitching, coming down from their orgasms, reality shifts back into focus. James is pressing soft kisses along all the marks he left on Regulus’ neck, and now that it’s over, Regulus lets himself turn over, desperate to feel James’ arms wrapped around him, to bury his nose in James’ neck. Just one more time.

The warmth of James' body surrounds him, the musky scent flooding his senses. It burns in his lungs, like the relief of releasing the last breath while drowning, his body screaming not to breathe, even as every part of him aches for the air, the desperate, painful release that comes with it.

James mumbles something into his hair, something Regulus doesn’t quite catch.

“What?” Regulus asks into his chest. 

“It’s fine. It doesn’t count. We didn’t really—”

Regulus shifts back, blood turning to ice as he meets James’ eyes. “What the fuck do you mean?”

“I—we didn’t really—did we? It doesn’t count.”

Reality comes back to Regulus. The truth between them that at this point, all they can really do is hurt each other. “Why don’t you want it to count, James?”

James bites his lip, words stammer out of him. “I–I’m seeing someone.” The words come out broken.

Oh.

There it is.

The pain that always lingers between them. Regulus is silent for a long time. 

Ultimately, he knew this was a bad idea. Lily told him, Barty told him, everyone did. He knew it was going to hurt. 

But then again, Regulus has always been a bit of a masochist.

“Okay, It doesn’t count,” he whispers as he nuzzles back into James’ chest. Fingers threading through his curls and lulling him to sleep.

The last thing Regulus hears before falling asleep is a quiet, muttered, I’m sorry.

He doesn’t have it in him to say anything back. So he drifts to sleep.

It’s unsurprising, and probably for the best, when Regulus wakes up alone.

That’s just how it goes.