#microfic

I (32F) recently got a gig as a live in housekeeper for a haunted mansion. I'm like 85% sure the job posting was a scam to try and feed me to the house in order to stave off its eternal hunger for another decade or so. But it pays alright and I don't have to pay rent as long as I'm living here.

One of the ghosts (~250M(?)) possessed my body a few nights ago, but instead of, I don't know, making me climb onto a blaustrade or something, he got real quiet. I don't think he ever possessed a trans woman before and he just kinda spent the whole night staring at my hrt pill bottles.

Since then, he's still been wandering the halls at the stroke of midnight, shattering all the mirrors that mysteriously regenerate by morning, but it seems like his heart hasn't been in it.

(Are the mirrors symbolic of something???)

“Fuck,” Ilya muttered, eyes glued to Shane’s bare ass as he walked into the showers, greeted by the most magnificent sight on earth. “Fuck.”

Troy, who had unfortunately been close enough to hear, rolled his eyes and cleared his throat. “Jar, Rozanov.”

Grumbling, Ilya turned and stomped back to the locker room, fishing out a bill from his wallet and stuffing it into a jar labelled, ‘Stop traumatizing us, you sick fucks.’

Then he moped at his stall until Shane returned, freshly showered and looking extra scrumptious, before getting up to head to the now-safe showers.

-

“More, Hollander,” Ilya murmured in his husband’s ear, spotting him as he lifted weights in the Centaurs’ team gym. “For me.”

Shane, who was sweating and flushed pink, gritted his teeth and lifted the weight again.

“Jar!” Wyatt called cheerfully from the treadmill across the room, making both Shane and Ilya send him a glare.

-

“I think, maybe small change should be made,” Ilya suggested as he watched Shane pose for part of the Centaurs’ Christmas photo shoot, a silly Santa hat jammed on his head.

Harris, who was snapping the pictures, paused and looked to him. “Yeah? What?”

“Hollander should take his shirt off. Not just for me, of course. But for world. Everyone will like-”

“Oh my god, Ilya, jar,” Shane himself said, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms.

-

“Rozanov, what the fuck?” Shane yelled, shoving his husband into the wall as soon as the team made their way into the locker room after the end of the second period. 

Ilya, who was already bleeding from his mouth, hissed at the contact and swore under his breath. “What? You are really mad at me for fighting, Hollander?”

“Yes! Look at you, you’re hurt, you could have been suspended or fined-”

But Ilya didn’t look sorry at all. “They were targeting you, Shane,” he spat. “Saying things about you. I–”

“That’s my business. You’re supposed to play the game.”

“I’m going to defend my husband.”

They stared at each other furiously, anger and attraction crackling through the air between them, the tension high enough that the entire room could feel it. 

Then Ilya leaned forward, as if to kiss Shane.

“Yeah. Jar,” Bood called, smirking.

Ilya swore loudly, stomping his foot, walking towards his bag to grab his wallet.

-

Ilya was flying. Heart racing, cheeks hurting from how wide he’d been grinning, throat aching from how loud he’d been screaming.

The Centaurs had just won the motherfucking Cup. He and Shane, together had just won. And to top it all off? He’d gotten the gamewinning goal.

Beaming, he followed his team into the locker room, which already had music blaring and people yelling with joy.

But it was Shane that he was focused on. Shane, who he saw…grabbing his wallet and shoving the entire thing in the jar? 

Eddie: What?

Ravi: The fact that Buck is insane. Like actually insane. He talks about you like a crazy person. If I didn't know him I'd be worried for your safety.

Eddie (offended): Buck would never hurt me.

Ravi: I mean he did sprain your ankle because you made a new friend.

Eddie (smiling): ...Yeah he did do that.

Ravi: Why are you smiling about that??

Eddie: Ok. Look, Ravi, the thing about Buck is - yes, Buck is insane. He's been insane about me specifically since literally the day we met. But it's not - he isn't doing it on purpose. He can't help himself. He just... feels so much, you know? And sometimes the way that comes out is... less than healthy, sure. But he does it because he cares that much. And I mean so much to him he can't control himself. I never have to question how Buck feels about me. Honestly, it's one of my favourite things about him.

Ravi:...

"What's up? You never seen a dude with a ponytail before?"

"Huh? No. I mean, yeah, maybe, but no, it's just..."

He gets up off his chair and, without a by-your-leave, takes Eddie's hair back down and starts carding his fingers through it. Eddie, seeing Jesus, Mary, and Joseph in that moment, says not a fucking word, just lets him do his thing.

"Huh."

"Hmm?" He manages despite the body-morphing, nerve-wracking, world-ending thing that's happening.

"I just never noticed... You've got real curls happening back here." He tugs on a strand, killing Eddie stone dead. "Not the Head & Shoulders and hot water fried stuff on top, like real, actual curls."

"Hey." He tries to drum up the right amount of offense but it's hard when his brain fled the scene thirty seconds earlier.

"Wonder if I could revive any of this," he mumbles to himself as he continues to catalog Eddie's hair situation. He's got the top half piled atop his head so he can study the 'good stuff' underneath at his leisure.

This might be the best day of Eddie's young life. Honestly, if he'd known Steve was interested in it this much, he would've pulled his hair half up years ago, showed off a little.

"Can I do a V05 hot oil treatment on you?"

"Baby, you can do whatever you want to me."

"What?"

James was laying in bed, flat on his back with his arm flung across his face. Eyes closed, gently lulled into that gap between being awake and asleep where his limbs felt heavy and his head felt light.

Quietly, voice thick with sleep, he murmured into the room. “Would you still love me if I was a worm?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, James.” Regulus replied softly. “I’d put you in the garden, feed you to the birds.”

“That’s mean.” James smiled softly. “I’d still love you. I’d buy a tank for you and keep you forever.”

“Yes, well. You’re an idiot.”

“Your idiot.” A smile tugged at the corner of James’ lips. “How about if I was a dog? Would you keep me then?”

“Nah.” Regulus snorted softly. “I’d give you to Sirius. He’s always wanted one.”

“That’s fair. I’d be such a good dog for him.” James shifted slightly, as if to roll over onto his side, but decided against it. “You’d make a good cat. I think that’s what you’d be if you were an animal. All regal and grumpy.”

Regulus made a non-commital sound and the room filled with silence once more, the only sounds to be heard were gentle breaths and the breeze outside brushing through the trees.

James broke the silence once more with a whisper, cracked around the edges. “Would you still love me if I was a ghost?”

“Of course I would, Jamie.” Another beat of silence passed. “You still love me, don’t you? And I’m a ghost.”

you’re moping and doomscrolling dating apps in the kitchen and you hear her pad in and make that cute little FM bark she does to get your attention. you look up at her and she’s sitting in a way that gives you a great view of the add-ons she just had made for herself. your phone chimes as you get a text.

“wanna play?”

you don’t even have time to protest before she jumps up on you and puts her paws on your shoulders. when you salvaged her model, you went for something big enough to run guard protocols effectively, so she’s not a small dog. you also didn’t want the nasty corporate spyware that comes default on her model, so you swapped her OS to something better, which came with the side effect of making her just as smart as any other, more “human” looking companion bot.

in your sadness, you were wearing and idly fidgeting with the collar your ex gave you. she bites down onto it and twists her body, throwing you to the ground, and you land on your hands and knees just in time to feel an artificially damp silicone nose press between your legs.

when she climbs on top of you, you don’t even bother struggling. she’s not a weak dog, either. companion bots are on average two or three times stronger than their biological theriform counterparts. once her paws got around your hips, you weren’t ever going to get away until she decided you were adequately satisfied and she was done.

there’s a quiet alert sound in your head as she remotely interfaces with your brain’s netlink. she’s mischievous, but she doesn’t want to genuinely hurt you, and your netlink lets her monitor your vitals, nutrients, and your pleasure and pain responses so she can be the best sex toy you’ve ever owned. she can tell exactly how fast and hard to thrust to make you see stars and how long you can actually go for without injury, and being a machine means she can go that hard for that long with ease because she doesn’t get tired.

after your fourth orgasm, your legs give out, and you collapse to the ground. she just lays down on you, bites your neck in her soft gripping teeth, and slams her knot inside you. you’re well past the point of being able to speak, so you just moan wordlessly, and she licks your neck with her big silicone tongue and disables her cooling system to warm herself up so you can use her as a heating pad to comfort your sore body

-

“James, seriously, I’m awful with kids, I can’t-” Regulus tried, but James just chuckled and handed him the baby.

“Just hold him, Reg,” James said calmly, holding back a grin. “I’ll be back in a bit.”

Regulus held Harry far from his chest, as though he was a bomb. James laughed, kissing Regulus’s cheek and heading to the shop, leaving Regulus alone with Harry.

“Um, hi,” Regulus said to Harry. “I’m Regulus.”

Baby Harry just looked at him with curious eyes, cooing softly. Regulus slowly brought him closer, until his arms were wrapped around the baby and holding him to his chest.

“Er, do you like, uh... What do I have in common with a baby?” Regulus muttered, rolling his eyes at his boyfriend, though he couldn’t see him.

“Oh! You read to babies. What do babies read?”

Regulus looked around frantically for anything baby-appropriate. He, of course, didn’t have any children’s books in his flat. He picked up the first thing he could see, The Picture of Dorian Gray, which he was rereading.

By the time James got back with food and drinks, Regulus was reading to Harry, occasionally interrupting himself to explain his annotations from his first read, or his thoughts on a particular element of the story, as though Harry were capable of understanding him in the first place.

James came up behind the armchair, giving each a kiss on the head.

“You know, you talk to him like he’s an adult,” James observed.

Regulus just shrugged, not taking James up on his offer to take Harry away. He supposed children weren't all that bad. This one, especially, who looked so adorably like James, without the excessive talking. Well, he was alright.