#my fic: Romance and Return Policies

[albatmobile]

romance and return policies pt. 6

final part of this ask!

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] || ao3

𓅪 Rated: E | 11.1k includes: alternate universe no powers, modern au, eventual polyamory, eventual relationships, eventual smut, gamestop au, spitroasting, orgy, oral, dp, fingering, bdsm, rope play, bondage, creampie, squirting, multiple orgasms, aftercare, orgasm control, strap on, alien dildos, xbox controller as a vibrator, pillow fight

𓅪 established roy harper x koriand'r eventual: jason todd x reader, Roy Harper x reader, koriand'r x reader endgame: Jason Todd x reader x Roy Harper x koriand'r

A few days after your joyride into town, all three of them come to annoy you at work.

You don’t even bother with menus as you ring in their order before they can even sit down.

“So, if you’re all here, who’s running GameStop?”

It’s an unfortunate skill you have, making Roy spit liquid out of places that liquid shouldn’t. This is another prime example of the phenomenon.

He loses it, choking out the sip of water he’d been taking mere inches away from your uniform. You and Jason wear similar looks of disgust but quickly join in on Kori and Roy’s rambunctious laughter. 

Pam stops by, giving everyone at the table a thorny glare. She’s warned you many times that she doesn’t like your friends coming in and loitering, but you don’t give a fuck. She has you working not doubles but triples and somehow always misplaces your check, so getting paid takes twice as long. Right now, you’re the only one doing inventory and, for some god awful reason, the only person cleaning the toilets. Anytime you bring any of this up to her, she just reminds you that your restraining order is keeping away one of her best clients.

The fucking cunt.

When you tell them this much, Jason and Roy share a look.

Finally, Roy speaks, “It’s really time you join our cult, gorgeous.”

“Is that why you guys all came in?” You ask jokingly. “Is this a GameStop intervention?”

“Of sorts,” Jason starts. His deep voice leaves you to flush. 

“ORDER UP!”

You’re shocked out of your stupor and quickly back away from the table with a sheepish smile. You return with their food and quickly get swept up into the random 10 AM rush. 

Soon, you’re packing them up, wishing they could stay longer. The last thing you need right now is for Pam to assign you to empty out the grease trap, though, so you suppose it’s all for the best. 

You haven’t yet taken your break, so you follow the trio out to the parking lot, giggling with Kori over her newest Animal Crossing villager. Roy has his arm around her tan waist, with his knuckles brushing up against your hips with every step. You don’t realize you’re biting at your lower lip until Jason emulates Roy and wraps his muscular arm around your waist. Your mouth drops, then quickly shuts, but not before he can notice. 

He chuckles lowly, squeezing you closer against his side as the four of you come to a halt in front of Roy’s Mustang and Jason’s bike, though not before his assured gait can falter.

You eye the raven-haired man curiously, noticing how antsy he seems, “What’s up?” Does he have to shit or something?

“Nothing,” he runs a sharp hand through his dark hair as he focuses back in on Kori’s Animal Crossing rant.

You raise a dubious brow but allow him to lift you onto the hood of Roy’s red coupe. Roy easily jumps up beside you, with Kori stepping inside his spread legs to continue the tour of her island. Meanwhile, Jason looks off toward Main Street with a distant look in his emerald eyes.

You watch as Jason and Roy share another look before you finally bite.

“I feel like I’m missing something,” you say, noticing how all three look guilty. You’re even more confused now. “What?” Kori looks at Roy, who looks at Jason, who purposefully avoids your gaze. “What!?”

Roy runs a loose hand through his fiery locks as if to say you’re not going to get any answers from him. Instead, you turn to Jason, who’s shoved his hands deep in his pockets.

“S’just that,” he kicks at the pavement, ducking his head as he does so before meeting your gaze head on, “We came in to ask if you’d want to go on a double date tonight.”

Your eyes widen, not missing the implication that you’d be Jason’s date and that the four of you’d all probably end up fucking again. You already know your answer is yes, but you don’t want to seem too eager, god forbid.

“Yeah, I can do that.” 

You definitely don’t mind that this is steadily becoming a thing.

“Cool,” he says with a small smile that Roy’s wolfish grin easily dwarfs.

“We are on for tonight, then?” Kori asks you sweetly. She sets her Switch down next to Roy’s thigh on the hood to take your hands into her large ones.

“Yeah,” you nod bashfully, squeezing her hands lightly as you do.

She beams, squealing as she draws you into a suffocating hug, then smooshes Jason in Roy in as well. 

“Pick you up after your shift?” Roy asks, smirk still evident on his freckled cheeks. “Your place?”

“Yeah,” you look at Jason, noticing his blush is as hot as yours feels. “Sounds good.”

🎮🎮🎮🎮

At home, you’re freaking out.

What the fuck are you supposed to wear? None of them had mentioned any plans and you’d been too starstruck to ask for more details. This is exactly when Kori texts you asking if she can come over and get ready with you. Butterflies fill your stomach as you agree.

Though you’d all fucked, this felt so much more intimate like you could somehow fuck everything up with this date alone. You really like all of them, but you don’t know necessarily where you all stand. Are you dating Jason and Kori and Roy are dating and sometimes the four of you fuck? Or did it go deeper? Were you all together?

Kori arrives minutes later, hands full of an abundance of colorful fabrics. “Hello, friend!” she gives you a big smooch on the lips as you welcome her inside. 

It happens so fast that you don’t have time to reciprocate before she’s high-tailing it up to your room and throwing off her clothes. You gulp at the sight that greets you when you walk in.

“What’s up?” you ask, feeling anxiety seep over you. The pressure of the date, coupled with all the unknowns leaves you reeling. Now Kori’s here and you don’t even have the ability to freak out in peace. No, you have to pull it together before she notices-

“Are you alright?”

Shit.

You gulp as she approaches you. She bends down so she can cup your face in gentle concern.

“Just really nervous,” you manage to supply. Your eyes search her neon ones for salvation, something she easily grants.

“I am nervous as well,” the way she says your name makes you weak in the knees. Luckily, she’s there to support you. She guides you to the bed where all your vetoed outfits have landed and helps you to sit. 

“I don’t want to mess anything up,” you confess.

“You couldn’t,” she assures you, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear. “We will have the best time,” she beams, taking your hands within her own to bounce them. “I promise.”

You somehow believe her and allow your anxiety to slowly ebb. 

“Where are we even going, anyway?”

She gasps in excitement, “Jason has planned a picnic!”

“For the meteor shower?” You remember him mentioning it a few days ago but hadn’t realized it would be tonight.

Kori nods, getting up to go through the pile of your clothes, “I think this would look lovely on you. I know they’ll both like it, too,” You blush, ducking your head before she can see, but it’s too late.

She crawls across the bed toward you with a black, tight cotton dress. It’s long sleeve which will keep you warm when the sun goes down, yet the front is low-cut enough to show off some serious cleavage. It’s perfect.

You take the dress from her outstretched form, sighing when her warm forehead rests against your own. She has her eyes closed, so all you can see are her long, red lashes splayed out across her sun-kissed skin. 

God, she’s fucking perfect. 

You allow your eyes to close, eyelashes tickling against her own as you melt against her.

All worries are expelled as her acrylics rake up and down your back, engraving your skin with her want. Her swollen lips make quick work of the rest of your anxieties as she lays you down with all the assurance in the world. You know everything’s going to be all right; she makes sure of it.

By the time the two of you are dressed, your legs are shaking, though not from nerves.

She’s wearing jeans and a cropped hoodie that shows off the slightest sliver of her toned stomach as bounds down your steps toward your dates. Both men step out of the coupe as soon as they see the two of you approaching to greet you. 

Kori’s in front of you, so they greet her first. Pulling her in for a tight hug as you finish locking the door. 

Your nerves settle as a low static across your movements once you hear their chatter and you accidentally drop your keys. Before you can even bend down, Jason bounds your way to pick them up for you, sending you back to the night of your first date.

He holds the keys, taking your hands in his as he steps back to let you in. “You look incredible,” he says.

You smile, feeling the tell-tale sear of a blush staining across your cheeks when he leans in to give you a chaste kiss. You deepen it, but only slightly. Roy wolf-whistles, effectively breaking the two of you apart. 

Jason leads you over to him where the redhead immediately pulls you against his firm chest. You can’t help but laugh at his goofy grin as he runs his freckled hands up and down your curves in appreciation. He bites his lip as if to prevent himself from doing… well, you don’t exactly what goes on in his perverted mind, but you know he’s obviously thinking about something.

Just like last time, the four of you pile into the car, racing through the desolate desert streets just as the sun threatens to completely vacate the sky. Stars have begun to twinkle in the leaking indigo of the sky as you rev off further into the dying embers of the landscape.

“Jay and Star picked this place out for us, babe,” Roy says as he finally pulls off the road. “It looks insane, trust me.”

You and Kori bounce in their laps as you traverse the rocky terrain closer and closer to the mountains on the horizon. You continue to sing along to the radio with them until you can no longer ignore your impending thoughts. 

You eye the desolate landscape skeptically, “Please tell me you guys aren’t taking me out here to murder me.”

You’re currently in the middle of nowhere and severely doubt that anyone would be able to find any of you out here this far off the road. Where are they even taking you, anyway? It’s all desert, no matter how far out you drive.

Finally, Roy jams on the brakes, twisting the wheel as he does so in a way that spins the car around with a screech. The Mustang rocks back and forth from the momentum as it settles into park right next to a group of desert trees. You’ve got a white-knuckled grip on Roy’s shoulder and the door, hating the way he throws his head back and laughs so effortlessly at your plight. Kori, on the other hand, giggles in delight at his blatant peacocking. 

The men help you and Kori out of the car before leading you over to the grassy knoll under the trees that offers a picture perfect view of the gleaming night sky.

A huge, fluffy blanket’s been laid out as a base, with tons of soft pillows littering the edge of it. Tiny lanterns with fake tea lights have been scattered across the area, casting an intimate glow over the whole setup. 

“It’s beautiful,” you turn back around to face them with awe evident on your face. “Thank you,” you breathe as you draw them all in for a group hug. 

You still don’t know if this is a date for you and Jason with Kori and Roy or if it’s for all of you. What you do know is that it’s the most thoughtful thing anyone’s ever done for you.

“Took forever to find a good spot to watch the shower tonight,” Jason pulls out a large picnic basket from the trunk before taking your hand in his and leading you over to the blanket. “Plus, Kori wanted trees. Felt like a goddamned safari looking for this spot.”

You laugh, letting him lead you over to where Kori’s propped up on the blanket under a tree. 

She adjusts the pillows as you near, moving one behind her back and the trunk before clearing room for you, “Do you like it?”

Jason and Roy guide you down to sit between her legs as they finish spreading out the food.

The way she looks with the moonlight melting across her tan skin skin, you can’t image a better location.

“Everything’s perfect,” you answer with a sheepish smile, ducking your head before she can see your blush.

Kori begins running her acrylics through your hair, softly humming something you can’t quite make out. The vibrations send shivers of happiness across your skin. 

She’s so beautiful.

“What did you end up making for us, Jason?” Kori asks, stirring you from your daydreams of her.

“You cooked?”

He’d mentioned to you that he liked to cook before, saying the next date, he’d have to make you something. You guess he’s stuck true to his word.

He’s so perfect.

“Roy helped, too, I guess,” he shrugs nonchalantly, though his raging blush tells you everything you need to know.

“You did?” the redhead throws a wink your way at your question.

He’s so captivating.

You’re falling for them. Falling hard.

You’re entirely enamored with each and every one of them.

“If giving the chef a blowie counts, then yeah,” he jokes, but there’s an obvious anxious edge to it. Both he and Jason seem to gauge your reaction.

“Oh?” 

You didn’t mind at all. You feel no jealousy in the slightest, especially considering his girlfriend had just swallowed your come not even 30 minutes ago.

“We had our own intimacy as well.”

Both men’s ears perk up at Kori’s statement.

“Oh, worm?” Roy asks in disbelief.

“Worm indeed,” you nod sheepishly looking down at the blanket. You feel all eyes on you and decide to take a leap of faith. With a sigh, you ask, “What are we?”

Cue Roy’s signature spit take.

Jason is his unamused target, it seems. His button-up is now covered in grape soda, leaving him no choice but to remove it. You can’t help but stare, something he notices with a loose hand through his hair. He looks away shyly, but it only spurs you into action. 

You caress his jaw, drawing his attention back your way as you search his eyes for an answer.

Surprisingly, it’s Roy who supplies you with one.

“I- we, want this situation between us,” Roy gestures between himself and Kori, then between Jason and you, “to be… more permanent,” Roy turns to Kori, who nods earnestly in agreement. 

“All of you?” you question in astonishment. You can hardly believe this is all actually happening. 

So, it hadn’t all just been a one-off event, then.

You can’t stop the beaming grin that spreads across your face.

“If that’s what you’d want, too,” Jason’s gentle voice soothes the butterflies you feel thrashing around your stomach.

You attempt to keep them waiting some, not wanting to seem too desperate, but you can’t help how your response spills out of you.

“Yes,” you breathe. “I’d like that a lot.”

It’s as if a dam’s broke.

The four of you take turns kissing each other, feeling out how it feels to just be. 

To be here, to be with them. It’s all perfect.

The chasteness of your movements soon lose their tentative nature, becoming more hasty, edging deeper as you take turns melding against their bodies.

To further the officialness, Kori strips your dress off of you, leaving you in your black thong in front of all of you dates to see.

“Oh, shit,” Roy bites at his lower lip, smirking Jason’s way before nodding to Kori.

“I told you they’d like it,” she whispers to you, wasting no time in pulling off her jeans. It’s not enough, though. You need to see more of her. 

You gently kiss her, heads bobbing in perfect time with each other’s tantalizing movements. Your hands slowly slip into her bra, squeezing gently around her lofty breasts before coaxing them out of her bra and into the chilly night air. She pulls away with a light moan, lifting her cropped hoodie for you to get a good look at what’s been haunting your wet dreams.

You know exactly what you want. You shimmy backward, positioning yourself between her long, tanned legs. You want to hear how much she needs you.

“You want me to eat your pussy? It’s only fair I return the favor,” you bite at your bottom lip as you nuzzle into her juicy cunt. “Right, Kor?” you look up at her from where your face is pressed against her panties. Her sweet smell permeates the fabric as you tease your tongue against it, creating a wet spot that her arousal easily doubles.

She gasps and it’s then that you hear the tell-tale sign of zippers from behind the two of you. She looks starstruck, giving an all new meaning to her nickname.

“Please,” comes her breathless plea.

You finally push past her panties to taste her slick want, reveling in how she squirms against your hold on her hips. 

You’re on your knees, trapped arching between Kori’s long legs, when you hear Jason clear his throat. You give one long lick up Kori’s twitching cunt before turning around with her slick dribbling down onto your chin to where Jason and Roy have sidled up behind you.

Roy rubs his hands together greedily with a wicked glint behind his verdant eyes as he crawls closer to you, “Can we touch you, beautiful?” he tilts your chin up as he awaits your answer. 

When you nod, he easily descends upon your lips, placing a sure hand behind your head as he deepens the kiss into something absolutely filthy. As soon as you break apart, you draw Jason in for a wet kiss of his own. You get lost in his touch, only coming back to the moment when Roy groans as he fists himself to the erotic sight splayed out in front of him.

Kori guides you back to where you’ve pushed her underwear aside. You allow her acrylics to tangle in your locks as she forces your head back down against her arching hips. This time, when you bend down you spread your thighs even wider to grant Jason and Roy better access as you makeout with Kori’s perfect pussy.

“Shit,” Jason’s rough hands travel up the globes of your ass while Roy’s smoother ones trail up your spread, inner thighs.

Kori gasps as you flick at her clit, then quickly move to tease her entrance with the tip of your tongue. You flatten your tongue, dragging it across her length and repeat the motion until she whines for you to stop. You slurp the combination of drool and slick as you pull away with a pussy-drunk smile. She meets it with a panting, dazed one and removes her hand from your hair to push her own out of her eyes.

“Ah!” you startle forward into Kori’s tits as Roy finally breeches your entrance with his index finger. 

“Eat our girl out, Jay,” Roy motions for Jason to lie down under your spread form to get a better angle. You can’t deny that the new nickname drives you crazy in the best possible way. “Show her she’s ours.”

Before he follows Roy’s commands, he draws the redhead in for a teeth-clashing kiss. He pushes Roy’s cap up to get a better angle before discarding the offending article altogether.

Jason’s calloused hands draw another moan out of you as they assuredly grip your hips to keep you in place while he unleashes teasing licks against your pussy. Meanwhile, Roy remains on his knees so he can slowly push his thick finger into your tight heat. You exhale shakily as you back against his taunting, forcing his knuckle to finally sink inside of you with a whimper of relief.

Kori draws you back to her. You’d know that look anywhere- she’s ready to come.

“I want you,” her breath hitches around your name while your tongue steals the rest of her coherent words until she’s a withering mess under your touch. 

Her pornstar-worthy moans ring out across the landscape like a beautiful symphony. Kori’s wanton noises coupled with the wet whines you’re unleashing against her folds until the two of you create the lewdest duet this desert’s ever heard. 

Roy continues to finger you while spreading your ass and positioning himself so he can eat you out from behind at the same time as Jason does from underneath your splayed thighs. The two men seem to be in competition of who can make you moan loudest while also testing what leaves you withering under their touch.

“Jay,” Roy’s deep voice sends vibrations across your sensitive pussy. 

You halt in your ministrations on Kori to turn your head and watch as Roy slurps your arousal into his mouth. You arch with a breathless moan at the contact, the sounds breaks as you watch Roy duck over Jason’s mouth to spit your slick into Jason’s expectant mouth.

Your thighs shake, wanting to close before you can come, but Jason won’t allow it.

Kori rubs at her clit, easily becoming distracted by the salacious scene unfolding in front of her until you once again descend upon her wet folds. She arches against the tree as she begs you for release, tugging at your hair as she draws closer and closer to the edge.

Panting, she draws you against her lips for a sloppy, uncoordinated kiss. 

“Fuck, Kori,” you groan against her plump lips, feeling your own impending orgasm drawing near. “You’re so fucking hot, I-“

She cuts off your rambling with another wet kiss. Her tongue flicks out to tease yours before sucking it into her mouth with a lewd slurp. Your hand works alongside hers to leave her shaking and whimpering against your lips as she comes undone by your hand. You smack her cunt, eating the groan she feeds into your open mouth as she rides it out.

You don’t have time to take pride in the panting state you’ve left her in before Jason and Roy threaten to leave you in one of your own.

Kori continues to smear her lipgloss across your puffy lips and moves in tandem with Jason to flick at your nipples. It’s when she grabs your ass from where she sits (yes, she’s really still that tall) to spread it for your men.

“Absolute fucking slut,” Roy grumbles against your aching cunt. “Such a good girl, baby,” you whimper in response, feeling your body tense with anticipation of your building orgasm. “Jason, I think she wants to come.”

“You want to come?”

You nod desperately, realizing too late that he can’t see you. The only response he needs is your desperate cry as both men double down on your dripping pussy. The sensation leaves you helplessly bucking against Roy’s fingers as they curl and squelch inside you for relief.

Kori eats your moans as they echo against your messy tangling of lips and tongues.

Jason’s fingers take over for Roy as he stands and thrusts his throbbing cock in the middle of your sapphic kiss. You eye the redheads with half-lidded eyes as you share Roy’s cock with your girlfriend. God, it feels so nice to say. After only a few moments in your mouth, Roy pulls out and releases across Kori’s and your expectant tongues.

“So fucking good to me,” Roy pants as he splatters the last of his come across your faces with a shaky groan. “Best fucking orgasm ever, swear it,” he says as he encases his lips around yours, swapping his come between your mouths before moving to Kori to do the same.

Jason moves out from under you, offering your knees relief as he lays you back against Kori’s stomach to fuck into you.

It’s a slow and cruel pace, only made crueler by how Roy and Kori touch you like they already know where you want to be touched. Each redhead takes a side, Roy sucking your tit into his mouth while Kori’s mouth draws you in for a kiss. Her acrylics tickle at your other erect nipples until you’re arching off of her and into Jason’s thrusts.

“Just like that,” Jason growls your name. “You’re so fucking tight.”

It’s when the two redheads move their attention down to your clit that you know you’re fucked. Roy spreads your folds with two fingers, watching as intensely as Jason does as his girthy cock disappears in and out of your squelching hole.

“Fuck- please,” you whimper. “I need to come, baby-“ Without warning, you arch off of Kori. Neither she nor Roy stop their jerks against your clit as you slip off Jason’s dick with a gush of liquid.

You’re wriggling in Kori and Roy’s arms as Jason releases across your expanding and retracting stomach as you pant out the remnants of your orgasm. 

“Did she just squirt on you, Jay?”

Jason snorts, looking down at his dripping cock. “Think so, Harper,” his deep voice sends waves of aftershock across your body while his steady hands draw you against his naked chest for a toe-curling kiss.

By the time you’ve all come down from the high, you realize the meteors have already begun streaming across the night sky, disappearing off behind the darkened valleys that lie ahead.

🎮🎮🎮🎮

You didn’t want to go home after the shower. There was no pressure to stay over, but you wanted to. You’re all official now and you want to make it official over and over again.

That’s how you ended up in their bed, facing Kori on your knees as Roy pounds into her in the same position Jason has you in. With Kori’s great height, the width of the bed is entirely too short, meaning you’re panting against her neck as she leaves bruising kisses against your delicate collarbone. 

With one hand on the bed, your other hand tangles in her fiery hair. She gasps into your mouth, grasping her free hand against your shoulder before slowly moving it lower. She caresses your tits as they bounce from Jason’s unforgiving teasing. He continues to draw desperate mewls from you as he fucks you with just the tip until your arousal visibly drips from your cunt onto the curve of his erection.

“Jay,” Roy breathes as he leans across Kori’s back to makeout with you. His hips continue shallowly snapping into Kori’s heat all the while. “Stop teasing her before I take over and give her what she really wants-“ 

Before he can finish his statement, Jason pounds into you twice, leaving you reeling for more. Instead of giving it to you, he holds your hips steady to prevent you from bucking back against him.

“I want to try something,” Jason pats gently at your side and gestures for you to mount Kori.

You don’t question it. You give her one more kiss before she flips from her knees onto her back so you can mount her. Meanwhile, you crawl across the mattress toward Roy who stands behind her. You make a show out of straddling Kori’s long torso, presenting your ass to Roy so that your ass is now flush against Roy’s hairy pelvis.

All three of you face Jason who’s kicked off his jeans completely. His wanton eyes take in the three of you darkly as he moves onto the middle of the mattress, precome leaking from his red-tipped cock.

“You want to watch me fuck them, Jay?” Roy bites at his bottom lip as he greedily stares down at the two pussies in front of him. Roy always finds a way to render Jason speechless, this being one of those moments. “Alright,” Roy jiggles your ass, watching as the movement causes your clit to rub against Kori’s underneath you. Your moans ring out in unison, spurring movement from both men.

Before you can blink, Roy’s sinking inside you from behind, with Jason’s cock gagging you from the front. 

Your eyes roll to the back of your head when Kori’s delicate hands fondle your tits, licking teasingly at your nipples as you take both of their dicks at once.

Is this heaven?

You’ve never moaned so loud before, feeling all inhibitions slip away with every thrust into your fucked-out form.

This is the first time you’ve felt Roy’s dick in you and holy shit are you going to need it in you more.

“Sharing so nicely for us,” Roy grunts as he pulls out of your slick cunt only to thrust it into Kori’s ready pussy beneath yours. “Is this what you wanted, Jay? To see my dick in their pretty little pussies so you can get off-“ 

Roy cuts himself off with a carnal moan as your tight heat welcomes him back. He rewards you with a sharp smack against each ass cheek followed by Kori’s soothing hands as she spreads your cheeks further for the redhead. Her long nails leave loving indents against your skin, only spurring your pleasure on further.

While Roy switches between your cunts, Jason alternates between your willing mouths.

“Shit,” Jason groans, pulling Roy in for a clashing kiss above you and Kori’s panting forms. “I don’t think I can last much longer,” Jason’s breath comes out shaky as he fucks deeper down your throat.

You’re slowly getting used to Kori’s intimate faces enough to realize she’s close. You know you feel your own orgasm threatening to spill onto Roy’s jerky movements, but you hold strong.

You and Kori edge each other by playing with each other's nipples and making out. Eventually, she rubs your clit and you attempt to return the favor, but your arm is too short to reach hers. She just chuckles lightly and whispers against your ear for you to enjoy. You swear you almost come right then and there.

It’s a chain reaction. 

Jason pulls out of your mouth with a lewd ‘pop’ and emulates how Roy had come at the picnic. His sticky want coats both Kori’s and your tongues and even manages to splatter across your eyelashes. With Roy fucking into Kori during this, she follows Jason with a sweet sigh as you and Roy send her over the edge with your touch.

With Jason and Kori out, Roy doubles down on you. His strong grip secures around your hair, snapping your head back so you can look at him with every jerky thrust he shudders into you.

“Fuck me, please,” you beg, moaning when Kori picks up the pace on your clit and Jason’s mouth moves to encircle your tits with bruising care. “Roy!”

“You take that shit,” he grits against his teeth as he makes you come undone like never before. “Just like that, baby. Good girl,” he praises you as you cry out in pleasure.

Your orgasm wracks over you in dizzying waves that leave you wrecked and begging for his come as you buck against his thick cock. He obliges with a noise you’ve never heard from him before. He pulls out, jerking his cock as his come spurts onto your twitching cunt. The sticky arousal oozes and drips down from your cunt onto Kori’s in an erotic display that leaves Roy’s cock twitching. 

Kori’s lithe fingers trickle down, using the thick substance as lube on your pulsating clit and ultimately sending you over the edge.

Once you come down from another orgasm, you fall into the pile of their spent bodies.

“This bed’s too small for this shit,” Jason and Roy snort while Kori merely draws you closer to her body.

“So, I think us bribing her with nerd shit worked, y’all,” you can’t help the laughter that spills from you as they all tiredly high-five each other over your come-covered body before cuddling around you. “You know this means you have to come work with us now, right?” Roy nudges you gently in the butt. “This is officially a cult and we’re taking over the world one GameStop at a time, are you up for it, cadet?”

“Roy,” you turn your head to the side to face him, “Are you trying to make me vote you out of the cuddle pile Survivor style?”

“Yeah, say my name just like that, gorgeous,” he purrs against your ear, completely ignoring the rest of your sentence. “S’long as you promise to quit that shitty fucking job you have for the shitty fucking job we have.”

“It’s not that bad,” Jason mumbles, running his hands through your hair delicately. As you’ve gotten to know him, you realize it’s his way of saying he also wants you to quit your diner job. “They’ve been bugging me to hire someone new, anyway.”

You nod, “Okay.”

“Cool,” he nods. “We have dental.” 

You can’t help but snort at his ridiculous idea of pillow talk. Regardless of the squished space, you fall asleep easily, surrounded by the ones you find yourself falling for more and more each day.

  🎮🎮🎮🎮

Weeks fly by, then months, spending time with the three of them.

From aquarium dates to DIY spa treatments and nail painting weekends, you’ve never had such a blast. You’ve gotten a lot more comfortable with all of them as you all still figure out the mechanics of dating four people at once.

The bell above the diner rings out as Jason and Roy come to pick you up after your final shift at the diner. Next week, you’re scheduled to train with Kori for your first shift at GameStop.

“Where’s Kori?” you ask as you hop into Roy’s shitty car.

“Her sister’s in town,” Jason replies as he shifts under you in the front seat. “She should be back around dinner, though.”

Roy pats your thigh as he slides into the driver's seat. He gives it a squeeze before revving the engine, “Got a problem with it being just me and Jay, beautiful?”

You obviously don’t. They’d taken turns fucking to you last night while Kori’d been at work.

You ignore his question, noticing he’s missed his turn, “Where are we going?”

“You still need to get your Xbox from your old place, right?”

You feel a certain calculatedness between him and Jason, as if you’re missing something they’ve clearly discussed. However, you push this aside as you make a mental checklist of what’s left. Your lease is up in a week and you’ve been steadily moving into a new place you’ll eventually share with them. 

“That and one extra box of plushies.” You know Kori won’t allow you to donate any. If anything, you figure that they’ll be a nice welcome gift for her when the three of them officially move in with you a few weeks from now.

The place is perfect for what the four of you have going on. 

It’s close enough to town that getting to work will be easy but far enough away that it feels entirely your own. It’s a townhouse with a massive master bedroom, something Jason’s planning to fill with a custom bed for all four of you to fit on. There’s even a four-car garage due to the fact that the adjacent townhome isn’t in use and the landlord doesn’t give a fuck. 

You pull up to your old place, sharing a cheeky smile with Jason as the memories of your first time with him come flooding back to both of you. You grab your Xbox and take one last look around. 

A lot has changed since you first moved here, but the change has been good and you can’t complain.

The two of them share an unreadable look as you climb back into Jason’s lap. Before you can question it, Roy’s already peeling off. He’s blasting his college band’s EP at full blast as the three of you jet off under the blazing desert sun.

“You ready, Jay?” Roy asks cheekily.

Jason looks pissed that he’s even asked and refuses to give him a response.

“Ready for what?” you bite.

But all Roy does is smirk, “Don’t worry, baby. You’ll like it,” his freckled fingers tap to the drumbeat against the steering wheel as he screeches down the main streets. His shitty Mustang takes you all the way to the edge of town to your new place.

Roy hops out of the car first, jogging, then sliding across the hood to open the door for you and Jason. The redhead helps you out of the coupe, taking your hand in his and pressing a gentle kiss atop it before doing the same to a begrudged Jason.

“Why are you guys acting so fucking weird?” you ask as they each take one of your hands into their own.

Roy remains quiet, forcing Jason to answer you. Jason’s seemed on edge ever since the two of them had picked you up from the diner. You don’t understand why he’s so nervous around you today.

“We have a surprise for you,” is all Jason says.

The more nervous he is, you’ve found, the quieter he becomes. Whatever the surprise is, the way he’s acting right now reminds you of your first date to the outside library. 

It’s cute.

“Kori helped, too,” Roy adds helpfully as he goes about unlocking the door.

Upon entry, everything looks normal. Nothing’s out of place, so you’re still entirely in the dark on the whole surprise. Well, dark in general, considering no one’s bothered to turn on any lights yet.

Jason flicks on the light to the stairs and takes the lead, seemingly nervous, while Roy trails behind you with a wicked smirk.

From behind you, Roy covers over your eyes as you make land on the second floor, though you accidentally stumble into Jason in front of you because of it.

“Sorry!” you attempt to pry Roy’s freckled hands from your face so you can, you know, fucking see, but he remains resolute.

“Wouldn’t want to ruin your surprise, now would we, gorgeous?”

“Jason,” you beg for backup that never comes.

“He’s not gonna be any help, baby. This whole thing was his idea,” Roy’s breath tickles against your ear as you’re shuffled into a room. “Wasn’t it, Jason?”

“Shut it, Harper,” he hisses. Regardless of his harsh tone, he’s gentle with you as he situates you to sit on…?

“Is this a bed?”

Both men snort at your observation.

“Yeah.”

At Jason’s response, Roy finally lifts his hands from your eyes.

You look down at the huge fucking mattress you’re sitting on. It’s easily the size of two king-sized mattresses and would definitely be a comfortable fit for the four of you as you settle into your new shared space. Hell, they’ve even gone so far as to put on the sheets and everything.

You can tell it was Kori’s tall-ass that hung the TV because it’s way too fucking far up the wall, but at least it’s already set up with Roy’s Xbox. The room, no, the entire house needs some more work, but it’s an amazing and exciting start. Definitely a good surprise, you think to yourself with a smile.

It’s obvious that they’d just been over here from the screen that remains idle from the last game they’d been playing. 

“This is,” you turn around from where you are at the edge of the bed to get a better look at the ginormous contraption, “insane. I love it!” Jason seems genuinely pleased by your reaction and seems to finally relax a bit. Good. “I was seriously wondering why you were acting so nervous,” you snort in Jason’s direction.

Instead of smiling, he suddenly seems entirely nervous again.

Weird.

“Oh, that’s not because of the bed,” Roy jests toward a constipated-looking Jason. “Is it, Jay?”

Jason sighs, moving forward to crouch in front of you and the new bed. “I needed the dumbass’ help,” you raise a brow, first at him, then at Roy’s cheeky form behind him. “I want to please you.”

You can’t help it. You choke on your spit.

“You do, Jay,” you’re quick to reassure him, completely confused by whatever the fuck’s going on here.

His lips quirk slightly at the nickname, “I know, but I want to try something new, something I haven’t really done before. That’s why I want Roy to be here. I want to learn, but I also want it to feel good for you.”

“Uh,” you’re even more confused than before, “okay.” 

Jason, however, is saved by the bell as Kori FaceTimes you.

“You have seen the surprise, correct?” the redhead beams at you through the screen. You lift your arm up and fall backward onto the comfy bed in lieu of a response, “Oh, yay!” she squeals, “You like it, then, yes?”

“Of course, Kor,” she beams at your nickname for her. “I love y-it, so much,” you rush to add the last part to cover up your near slip. You weren’t going to be the first one to say it, especially not over the fucking phone. You go to hand the phone to Jason and Roy so they can say ‘hi,’ but they’re too busy eyeing your spread-out form on the mattress. “Uh, Kori?”

“Yes?” her wide green eyes look at you with concern.

“Are you somewhere private by chance?”

“Private?” you flip around the camera to show Jason and Roy both donning their bedroom eyes. “Oh,” she mumbles cutely as the screen on her end starts jostling around.

Meanwhile, Roy joins you on the oversized bed while Jason sinks to his knees in front of you.

“You like it when I spank you, right?” You nod at Jason, not understanding the connection. “I want to do that and more with you, but I don’t really know how to without Roy’s experience, hence…” He trails off awkwardly. 

He’s not even looking at you, so he can’t see how you beam at his statement.

“Tell her what you want,” Roy encourages in a deep voice. His hand trickle up and down the arm closest to him while the other grabs for the phone. “You want a show, Star?”

“I would love one,” you watch as Kori bites her lip, settling into what seems to be in a bathroom. 

Roy props up the phone in just a way that allows Kori the perfect view of the three of you and the three of you the perfect view of her. As soon as he’s pleased with the positioning, he coaxes you in for a slow, deep kiss.

Your eyes flutter shut as the two men take turns kissing your lips and each other’s. When you go to trail your hand up Jason’s thigh, he stops you.

“We still need a safe word,” Jason mumbles against your lips, eyes searching yours with hesitation as if he’s afraid he’s said the wrong thing.

He hasn’t and you assure him of it with a sensual, slow kiss.

“Red?”

“Simple enough,” he concurs.

Everyone jumps when the console rings out a warning that it’ll be shutting down soon. It’s then that Roy’s face twists up coyly. 

“I think I have an idea,” he quickly shoves on Jason’s sweats, going commando as he picks up his car keys and jogs out of the room at half-mast.

He returns moments later with… “Tape?” 

You’re lost.

He merely hands it to Jason before stripping back down. As he rejoins you on the bed, he languidly drapes across your body to draw you in for a toe-curling kiss. It’s then that you notice the rope as well. 

Your stomach flips in anticipation of what’s to come.

“You remember our safe word?” Jason asks before he rips the tape off of the roll with his teeth.

“I do,” his eyes flash with something you can’t quite place as he uses the tape to secure the controller against your upper thigh. He angles it in just a way that allows the edge of it to rest against your clit.

From there, Roy untangles the rope while Jason turns his attention to the survival game on the screen. The car he gets into vibrates intensely, sending you shooting forward into Roy’s firm chest, “Shit!” Roy’s laughter booms against your smooshed face until he helps you resituate.

“Should I crash the fucking car into a mountain, or something? It’s hard to focus on this and the driving’sall,” Jason cutely turns around, looking at Roy with an innocence the situation should not possess, but you’re so glad it does. “That way, when I accelerate, it doesn’t have to go anywhere but it’ll still vibrate.”

You and Roy share a look, leaving you to bite your lip. 

Roy snorts, “Sure, Jay.” 

Jason does end up crashing the car, sending the controller absolutely crazy as he does. 

You cry out in pleasure, wriggling against the sheets at the brief burst of vibration. Roy motions Jason closer as he lays the rope across your skin, helping Jason knot and twist it until you’re sufficiently hogtied. The silky rope is tight around each of your breasts, threading down between your pussy lips, then straight through to part your asscheeks salaciously.

Once Roy’s pleased, he commands Jason to slip you over onto your stomach so you face Kori.

Kori licks her index finger nice and slow for you, propping her phone up on the sink to give you all a nice view of her manicured nails slipping through her bush, all the way down to her clit. She begins rubbing slowly, watching sardonically as you whimper against the low vibrations. 

“As much as this is about Jason, baby,” you feel someone lining up behind you and mewl pathetically. Your eyes can hardly focus on Kori on the screen in front of you, let alone the camera displaying you, Jason and Roy. “Would it be alright if I cut in?”

“Fuck,” you groan, feeling the phantom weight of his member bobbing close to your entrance. 

Surprisingly, it’s Jason who runs a calm hand through your hair before bundling it up and tugging your head back to meet their faces. Your mouth forms a tiny ‘o’ when your eyes rest upon theirs.

“We need a verbal response,” Jason’s voice sinfully dribbles across your name. You have no choice but to give in to his domineering demeanor.

“Please,” comes your wrecked response.

“Good boy, Jay,” Roy smirks wolfishly as he drags Jason in for a searing kiss. “I just want a taste, promise, then she’s all yours. Control the remote for me for a sec, okay?” Roy turns his attention back to you with a wicked gaze. “You ready, beautiful?”

Were you ready for him to fuck you when you’ve been waiting for his dick ever since the first break room escapade? 

“I don’t think I can wait any longer, Roy,” you answer honestly. It seems to catch him off guard. His face opens up for you in a way you haven’t seen since he made it official in the desert.

“Really?” Even Jason seems surprised by his reaction.

You bite your lip, nodding coquettishly.

“Jay know this?” Roy asks breathlessly, looking at you like he wants to devour you right then and there. “How bad you want me?”

Your eyes flicker over to Jason, which he takes as an opportunity to rev the game, vibrating the controller.

“Answer him.” The shyness in Jason’s voice is completely gone. You might think he was even upset had it not been for the obvious tent in his boxers.

“I talk about you all the time,” you say as he slinks over your body, hovering over you with his larger form. You feel embarrassed to go on, but Kori’s encouraging coos leave you no choice but to divulge everything. “He asks me if I’m imagining it’s you when he’s fucking into me,” Jason releases a shaky exhale at your admission. “He stretches me out, telling me to imagine he’s getting me ready for the two of you to fuck my pussy at the same time-"

“Shit, Jay,” Roy breathes, turning his head around to face Jason’s blushing form. “Such a filthy mouth. I’ll need to punish you later, won’t I?”

He rolls his eyes, but Roy lets him off easy as he’s more preoccupied with lining himself up. The tip of his cock teases your already slick entrance, threatening to push through and fill you for the first time. You’re reeling when Jason decides to amp up the vibrations.

You arch upward into Roy’s body. Your dazed eyes try to focus on Kori in front of you, but everything feels so fucking good. You’re pretty sure your mouth is moving, but you have no idea if anything coherent comes out once Roy’s tip breaches your tight cunt. 

He pushes in slowly, murmuring sweet things in your ear as he fills your cunt with his girth. Jason’s slowed down the vibrations to nearly nothing so you can feel all of Roy as he fully settles inside you.

You’ve just gotten used to his thick cock when Jason makes a demand, “Moan for Kori.”

Roy groans, body shivering inside you as your eyes meet hers on the screen.

You blush, suddenly feeling shy as her half-lidded neon green eyes meet your widened ones. Jason won’t allow it, though as he amps up the controller to a nearly unbearable speed. You unleash an unholy moan, arousal leaking through the cracks in a way that leaves your partners visibly affected.

“More,” Kori commands and you have no choice but to give in.

Roy’s hips pick up the pace, thrusting deeper and deeper with each thrust until you’re wriggling around helplessly in their combined hold. The controller remains high as Jason claims your mouth in an aggressive kiss that matches Roy’s aggressive pace. Each thrust leaves the ropes tugging in all the right places, adding to the already intense sensations you’re assaulted with.

You don’t realize you’re coming until the strength of it forces Roy’s leaking cock out of your cunt. Just like at the picnic, you squirt everywhere, drenching everyone in the vicinity in your want. 

“It’s been so long since you’ve squirted for us, baby,” Roy practically vibrates next to your panting form.

You’re too sensitive and whine until they untape the controller from your thigh, but the ropes stay on. There’s no time for recovery before Jason stakes his claim on you.

Jason tentatively fucks your dripping cunt until Roy’s gentle encouragement spurs him to shove his fingers in your mouth. Your tongue lulls out of your mouth in response, wanting- no, needing to be filled. The way you feel, coupled with the way they’re talking about you like a fucking object leaves you reeling.

“Kori,” you whimper as she watches you sardonically through the screen.

“She can’t help you, babe,” Jason’s husky voice groans against your ear. “You want Roy’s dick?” your lulled tongue drooling is the only response the redhead needs as he lines himself up with your open mouth.

“If it gets to be too much, just snap your fingers, okay?” you nod gratefully.

It’s not too much at all. In fact, it’s everything you need and more.

You’ve never tried consecutive orgasms before, but damn if you didn’t feel like you were about to come again. This time, it builds with an icy tremor across your hot skin, blossoming across your face all the way down to your lower stomach.

Kori’s fingers speed up on the screen. She’s wet as fuck. You can hear it with every slick flick of her fingers against her creamy cunt. It’s all too much and entirely not enough.

“Mmph!” you groan against Roy’s cock as Jason drills into your g-spot. Each thrust tightens the ropes around your body in the most delicious way. You wriggle your ass helplessly in the air as you take their wanton ministrations.

Your eyes tear up as you take Roy’s impressive length deeper down your throat, attention on Kori as you near closer to coming undone again. Roy pulls out, smacking his dick against your cheeks and drawing the tip teasingly across your swollen, fuck-doll lips.

“You like Jay’s dick?” Roy smirks down at your lucid face. When you don’t respond, he tugs at the hold he has on your hair. “Answer us,” he demands, teeth gritted in arousal as he awaits your answer. 

“Feels,” you pant, moaning when Roy smacks your face lightly so you focus on finishing your sentence, “So good, Jason. Please!” You beg as his hips snap flush against your tight hole. “Feels so fucking good, baby.”

“You want to come?” Jason takes over control of your hair from Roy as he snaps your head back to force you into a dizzying kiss.

You nod, gasping as you pull apart, “Please, Jay.”

He groans at the nickname, doubling his efforts on your pussy.

“So beautiful,” Kori praises 

He doesn’t last much longer. His hips snap into your tight heat a few more sloppy thrusts before his hot come fills inside your cunt deep. He groans, smacking your ass like you showed him you like as he pulls out. Roy doesn’t let too much come escape before he flips your sensitive come filled cunt around for Kori to see.

She wanted a show, so you’re going to give her one.

“Talk to her, Star,” Roy prompts as he fingers all the come that’s fallen to your thighs back inside your pussy with a lewd squelch. You pull away from him slightly, spurring slight concern, “Are you okay, baby? Do you need to use the safe word?” you shake your head with a gentle moan as you settle back toward him. “Are you sure?”

“Verbal,” Jason warns you.

“Yes, I’m sure,” you wriggle back even more toward Roy’s dripping fingers as if to prove your point.

Jason praises with a light kiss to your brow. “Good girl,” his eyes, however, are entirely focused on the mess Roy’s pushing in and out of your tight cunt.

“I wish I could taste you,” Star whimpers quietly into the speaker.

Though you can’t see her from your position, her voice is enough to send tantalizing shivers down your used body.

“Film this shit, Jay,” Roy eagerly hands the phone to Jason to film Roy fucking Jason’s come into you until Roy’s soon joins the mix.

You’re panting, entirely exhausted, as they show off you’re fucked-out form to a gasping Kori. It’s erotic enough of a sight that she sputters and comes onto her three fingers soon after you’ve been filled.

There’s a light knock on the bathroom door and Kori’s quick to sheepishly wave and hang up. However, she manages to catch the beginning of your orgasm as Jason and Roy lavish you with their fingers and tongues. You come with a muffled cry against the fingers Jason’s shoved in your mouth, releasing against the pads of Roy’s expert fingers.

You’re left groaning in overstimulation when it’s all done. 

They pepper kisses across your heated skin as you come down from the high, mewling all the while. Once you’re more coherent, Roy shows Jason how to remove the ropes that bind you.

“You were so good,” Jason looks to Roy for encouragement that this is what comes next. 

It apparently is because, the next thing you know, Roy’s rifling around in your bathroom shit for lotion. Roy instructs Jason to warm it between his hands slightly before placing it on your tender skin. 

They murmur praises against your ears, pressing kisses along your body as they continue the aftercare.

“How do you feel, gorgeous?” Roy asks. “Does anything hurt?”

“Mm,” you moan as their hands work gently against your body. “I feel really fucking good.”

“Nothing hurts?” Jason confirms.

“Nope,” you pop the ‘p’ as you lazily drawl the word from your fucked-out mouth.

“So,” Jason starts tentatively. His hands still their movements on your skin as if he’s suddenly nervous. “You’d want to try this again?”

“Of course,” you say with a smile, “but next time I want Kori to fuck me with her alien strap, too.”

The look in both of their eyes prove that they agree completely.

🎮🎮🎮🎮

Later that night, Kori interrupts your gaming session as she bursts in with three bags of something that smells incredible.

“I brought takeout!” 

You pause the game to greet her with a chaste kiss that she deepens, “How was your sister?”

“It was good! We got lunch at the new place downtown you told me about,” she presses another chaste kiss to your lips before moving to greet Jason and Roy with much of the same, "Then we went shopping—oh!” She pulls out a red dress from her bag. “I got this for you!”

It’s as red as your cheeks and easily matches the safeword from earlier. You take the dress gratefully, if not sheepishly, “Thank you, Kor. So, you had fun?”

“Mostly,” she hums as she sets out an abundance of steaming boxes. “Sometimes my sister can be…” Kori trails off, as if not knowing the word. 

“Difficult,” Roy supplies for her.

“Yes,” Kori beams in his direction. You help her set out plates while she and Jason dish out enough food to feed an army. “I still had a good time, though. I miss her.”

“I take it you told her about us?” Jason asks, though he refuses to make eye contact with anyone. 

“I did,” she nods, seemingly worried that it’s the wrong answer. 

“And?” he questions.

“She did not care for it, Jason.” 

Jason responds as if on autopilot, “I see.”

Your stomach sinks. You’ve yet to tell anyone back home, but you’d hate to face rejection when you do. Even Roy seems disappointed, though he doesn’t look surprised. Meanwhile, Jason’s wearing his best version of a poker face, though you all know him well enough to see right through it.

Though you obviously feel affected by the rejection, you hate seeing how it wears on your partners. You're not going to let one person’s opinion come between who you’ve really been falling in love with.

You refuse to let Kori’s sister have this effect over any of you.

“Well, I like what we have,” you sit back down at the table, blushing when all three easily follow behind you. “It’s unconventional, sure, but it’s not like we need approval from her or anyone,” you continue on before your anxiety can tell you to shut up. “Besides, us all living together is just the first step of, well, everything. We know what we want for ourselves and we’re doing it, of course people are going to be dicks about it, regardless of the, you know,” you trail off sheepishly as you look around the table at your awe-struck partners, “polyamory… anyway. Never mind.”

It’s completely quiet as your words sink over the sullied mood.

“She is right,” Kori’s the one who ends up breaking the silence. You wait for her to say more and are completely shocked when she does. “I love all of you.” 

You don’t mean to, but you gasp. No one’s yet to broach the L-word, so it takes you completely off guard.

“I’ve never been one to give a fuck what anyone says or thinks,” Jason says. “I love you guys, too.”

His serious face draws a smile to yours. Meanwhile, Roy looks like he’s just won the lottery.

“I love you all,” Roy quickly spouts.

No one pressures you and you almost consider keeping your feelings to yourself. Almost. 

They’ve all been there for you when no one else was and all they ask for in return is all you could ever ask of them. They’re all completely different and, yet all completely perfect for you. If they’re being this open, you want to be open with them, too.

“So, we’re all in love, then?” you blush, hoping it’s not too obvious, but it doesn’t seem to matter.

All of them are up and out of their seats to draw you into a group hug. Tiny kisses are scattered across everyone’s everywhere until, eventually, dinner moves to the new bed.

They make good on their word of the strap, something Kori completely dominates you with. She lays behind you as she fucks into you lazily with her ginormous alien-dick strap. Her hands trail up your body as you flick your tongue against Roy’s, who’s lying on his side facing you, while Jason fucks into him from behind, mirroring Kori’s position behind you.

It’s slow and intimate as the four of you meld together as lovers.

When you’re finished, you can’t help but feel a little disappointed. They were all going to go back to their place, leaving you alone for the first night over at the new place.

“What is wrong?” Kori lifts your chin gently, searching your eyes with confusion. Her slow cleaning movements against your skin halt. “Is it me?”

“No, it’s not you,” you snort, turning around in her arms to give her a chaste, reassuring kiss. “Well, kind of,” she quirks a brow, something you find entirely too cute. “I want this to feel even more like our place. I don’t want to stay here all alone,” you end with a pout.

“We were already planning on staying the night, love,” Jason places a reassuring kiss against your forehead.

You brighten instantly, “You’re all staying?”

“Of course,” Jason says at the same time Roy says, “We do have a bed to break in, right?”

“It doesn’t just have to be sex,” you say.

You’re already feeling completely spent after such an adventurous day. All you want to do is snuggle in bed with them, watching shitty movies that Jason and Kori pick out. So, this is exactly what the four of you do. You’re all propped up on the new bed together as some old movie flickers across the screen. Roy had argued for Dirty Dancing but had conceded to Jason’s pick of Somewhere in Time. 

“Of course you’d pick a chick-flick,” Roy half-heartedly complains approximately 20 minutes in.

“Picked it out just for you, Harper.” Before he can say any more, Roy quite literally hits him with a pillow over the face. “You redheaded fucking cunt,” Jason takes the pillow and smacks him over his head in retaliation.

“PILLOW FIGHT!” Roy swipes the pillow from behind your back, standing on the bed in Jason’s big sweats to smack you and Kori in the face. 

You share one look with her before the two of you are up and joining in.

Roy attempts to get another one over on Jason, but Jason pulls his sweats down and tackles him to the mattress before he can. Roy wrestles with him, attempting to dodge the pillow Jason brings down upon him, but it’s in vain.

You take a different approach. You’re on your knees, giggling with Kori. You lightly take hits at each other back and forth like it’s soft porn as feathers empty out of it and litter into the air. You manage to keep it sexy until you accidentally get one good smack on her. 

Suddenly, it’s not so sexy.

Kori’s on your ass in an instant, decking you in the face with a new pillow, sending a new plume of feathers into the already-filled air. You double over in laughter, holding up your hands in surrender, but she doesn’t concede. Instead, she holds you down as Roy straddles you to finish you off in her honor.

Jason comes valiantly to your rescue. He’s able to get Roy off of you, but when it comes to Kori, he’s fucked. She decks him with two pillows to the face with a super strength you’re convinced she holds.

The pillow fight only lasts so long before is devolves into a makeout pile. You kiss anyone and everyone you can get your hands on, writhing against their familiar bodies in the massacre of feathers that now coat the duvet. You and Kori eventually tire and shoo the men off the bed to swipe the excess feathers to the floor. 

With a clean bed and feathered hair, Kori grabs Roy bridal style. She deposits him into bed before joining him under the covers. Jason lifts you in the same way, tucking you into bed next to them with a dopey smile. You end up cuddling in between Jason and Roy with Kori splayed partially over you and the other redhead.

With all of them by your side, you now realize your first observation of this town had been incorrect. Yes, it’s true that, on the surface, the desert lacked life, the caring people you’ve surrounded yourself with definitely do not. No, they make it beautiful, magical even.

Though at first, all you could see was red dust, Kori, Roy and Jason have since shown you the sturdy roots and budding flora that scatter across the horizon. It’s something you may have glanced over in the beginning, but now it’s all you can see. 

It’s different, sometimes dizzying, how everything in your life has changed since meeting them, but you wouldn’t trade it for the world.

No, you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

A/N: really sad this one is finally coming to an end! this was the third fic i'd ever written for the fandom and now i'm sitting at 6!

let me know your thoughts or if you'd like to see any dialoge or scenes for this universe! i'd love to make oneshots for it

[end] || ao3 ||  pinned || my ko-fi / tip jar

[fuckyeahdindjarin]

I ║ Palomino

Jack Daniels x f!reader

 { Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Part 2: Buckskin }

Rating: M (will be E in future chapters)

Summary: Unable to get a refund for a week-long horse-riding pack trip you'd booked with your ex, you decide to go solo. As it turns out, a rebound with a cowboy named Jack while traversing the wild landscapes of Wyoming might just be what you need.

Warnings: Extremely self-indulgent solo travel romance, flirting, yearning, language, matchmaking themes, lots of horsey details, mention of breakup, no use of Y/N

Word count: 6.5k

Notes: This story encompasses a lot of firsts for me - first new series since Consent, first time writing Jack, first time writing something so action-heavy and close to my heart. While I'm not 100% confident I got everything right, I am so excited about this fic. I hope you're ready for the ride (I apologise in advance for all the horsey puns incoming)!

I want to call out (affectionate) LJ @prolix-yuy for lighting a fire under my ass for cowboy Jack with her incredible Westworld AU Cognitive Dissonance. I also need to thank Ani @deadhumourist for the idea of a company retreat that I used in this chapter, and for sharing with us her amazing Jack fic Under Marula Trees. And of course, Ash @mandoblowmybackout for enduring my almost non-stop screeching about Jack ❤️

More notes in the Series Masterlist on horses and travel, etc!

Palomino: a pale golden or tan-coloured horse or pony with a white mane and tail, originally bred in the south-western US.

The door creaks long and loud on its hinges as it opens, barely letting through a bustling figure before slamming shut so hard it rattles on its heavy oak frame.

At the long-suffering frown sent his way from across the reception desk, Champ holds his hands up in apology and tip-toes in exaggerated fashion to his desk. Ginger shakes her head fondly - being quiet is not one of her employer’s strong suits.

She presently returns to the phone call she’s in the middle of, using her most placating tone on this customer. ‘Look, we have regulars coming in the same week as you. They come every year for a company retreat, and they are just the loveliest people you can meet. I promise you’ll have a great time.’

The vintage Chesterfield groans under his weight as Champ settles down, and with a practised flick of his wrist, his cowboy hat lands on its designated hook on the wall. He turns to the ledgers Harry left on his desk two days ago - he can’t keep putting them off much longer…

His mind quickly wanders. He’s a people person, and he’s always been more interested in the dude ranch holiday part of the business. However, Ginger is so good at her job that she’s made him redundant, banishing him to the whiskey distillery side of things. 

It doesn’t stop him from keeping half an ear on the ongoing phone conversation though.

‘I’m so sorry, ma’am, it’s not our policy to offer refunds. But I promise you’ll have the best birthday with us on the trip.’

Champ steeples his fingers and leans back in his chair. Ah, a customer wanting to cancel. Always tricky.

‘Tell you what - since you’ve already paid a 40% deposit for two guests, why don’t I waive the 20% balance for your holiday for one party?’

Champ arches a grey eyebrow in curiosity.

‘Alright, perfect,’ chirps Ginger brightly. ‘We look forward to seeing you in a few weeks. Bye now.’

‘What was that about?’ he asks as soon as she hangs up.

Bringing up the reservations system on her computer, she types busily as she replies, ‘A guest booked a holiday with her boyfriend, but they broke up, and she wanted a refund for both their places. I convinced her to come alone instead with the discount. She’s here the same week as the Kingsman so she definitely won’t be lonely.’

Champ gives her a double thumbs up. ‘Nicely done, Ginger. And did you say it’s her birthday while she’s here?’

‘Yes. Don’t worry, I’ll give Poppy a heads up to bake a cake in advance.’

‘Do you have a photo of her?’

Ginger’s fingers pause and hover over the keyboard, a warning in her voice. ‘Champ.’

He blinks innocently. ‘What? I’m a nosy bastard.’

With a sigh, she pulls up a Whatsapp profile picture and holds up the phone to him.

He puts on his reading glasses to look at the screen, and proceeds to nod thoughtfully. Finally, they haven’t had any single guests at the ranch for months on end. Surely, she’s his type…

‘Champ?’ Ginger’s voice pulls him out of his thoughts. ‘Stop meddling!’

He feigns ignorance. ‘Whatever do you mean, ma’am?’

She rolls her eyes affectionately. ‘He’s a big boy, he doesn’t need your help.’

Champ barks in laughter. ‘Like hell he doesn’t. Call the Kingsman and reschedule them, Ginger. I have a plan.’

You’ve never travelled on your own before.

Now that you’re speeding down the empty country roads towards the Bighorn Mountains - windows down, dust flying, radio blaring - you honestly don’t know why you waited so long.

You’re glad that the woman at the Statesman stood firm when you called a month and a half ago, asking for a refund. The discount sweetens the deal too.

To be honest, the week-long dude ranch trip you booked months ago had completely slipped your mind in the aftermath of the breakup. There were more pressing matters, like - what were you going to do with the house you bought and remodelled together?

You’d just finished tiling the backsplash with the vintage Italian mosaic you found at a flea market when you were informed that he didn’t feel the same way about you anymore. In fact, he hadn’t for some time.

You were only reminded of the trip when you started clearing your stuff out of the attic, finally having found an apartment you could afford on your own that is also not a shithole. You found the riding gear that you’d stashed away, gathering dust since you two started dating.

You should be thankful that at least there’s no costly wedding venue deposit to forgo or a pet custody battle to muddle through. He’s always hated animals - you really should’ve known. 

But you can’t bring yourself to not be bitter about everything. Not yet.

Maybe it’s a good thing that you’re going on this trip. That lazy bastard can start pulling his weight and sort out the house viewings for potential buyers for this week. He’s been dragging his feet - just because he can afford to pay both the mortgage and rent at his new bachelor pad doesn’t mean you can too.

You shake yourself out of it and crank up the stereo. Fuck it. You’re not thinking about him or the house or anything this weekend. It’s your solo birthday getaway and you’re gonna enjoy the fuck out of it.

And who knows? If you’re lucky, you could be rebounding with a handsome cowboy, like one of those awful Unicorn Club novels you used to read over and over again when you were fifteen.

You laugh, the pull of the muscles in your cheeks unfamiliar after weeks of disuse. A girl can dream.

You switch off the ignition, hands gripping the driving wheel tightly, and you take a moment to compose yourself. 

‘You can do this,’ you murmur, giving yourself a reaffirming nod in the rear view mirror.

Hopping off your rental truck, you shut the door behind you and start towards the only building you can see, a rustic lodge with a red roof. Statesman is blazened in iron letters, nailed proudly above a wraparound porch with welcoming rocking chairs and armchairs scattered about.

The gravel beneath your sneakers crunches loudly. You can hear in the distance sounds that you haven’t heard for a long time - clip clop of hooves, the drag of a barn door on rusty hinges, the low whinny of horses. You breathe in the mountain air scented with a whiff of sweet hay. Things that were familiar once upon a time. Your chest constricts at something blooming between your ribs, and a small smile lifts the corner of your lips.

There’s a bark out of the blue, and a border collie comes zipping towards you, wagging his tail so hard that his whole bottom wriggles from side to side. You coo excitedly and crouch down to give him a cuddle when a man with grey hair emerges from the lodge. It’s a warm day, but he’s wearing a suit with a cowboy hat.

In a booming voice, he calls your name in greeting and makes his way over to you. ‘We’ve been expecting you, young lady! The name’s Champ. Pleasure to make your acquaintance.’

You stand and shake his proffered hand with a smile. ‘Nice to meet you, Champ. It’s good to be here.’ You gesture to the empty parking lot. ‘Am I early or something?’

‘You’re our only guest this week, actually,’ he replies in a thick Southern accent.

You scratch the back of your neck, taken by surprise. ‘Umm, but the lady I spoke to on the phone - she said that there are regulars joining? A company retreat or something?’

‘Sadly, they rescheduled. It’s just you, my dear. You’re our VIP!’ he grins and claps you on the shoulder. ‘Come! Walk with me. I’ll have someone take your bags to your room. You can leave the keys in the car, it’s safe - but you keep any food to yourself or Jameson here will run away with it!’

The border collie barks at his name and Champ scratches him behind the ear, dispatching him with a wave of his hands.

Your host starts at a brisk walk. ‘So, how was your journey, young lady?’

You have to power walk to keep up with him as the gravel fades into firm sand. ‘Long, but glad to be here. I’ve been really looking forward to getting away.’

‘First time travelling alone, I assume?’ Champ smiles at you kindly.

You nod sheepishly. ‘I’m a bit nervous, to be honest.’

He laughs. ‘You’re entitled to nerves, but I promise you, you’ll forget all about that in three, two, one -’

Right on cue, you round the back of the lodge and you can’t help the gasp that slips out as you stumble to a stop.

The full landscape of the ranch comes into view beneath your feet. A picturesque river cuts through the green sweep of land, small lodges with matching red roofs are dotted all over one side of the bank, and bigger barn-like structures stand on the other. The Bighorn Mountains tower over the entirety of the property. You see horses grazing in a huge, fenced field, tails flicking lazily at flies.

Champ practically glows at your reaction. ‘It’s taken thirty years to get to where we are. I hope it will stand for many more decades to come.’

‘It’s - stunning,’ you say rather inadequately.

Champ winks at you. ‘Wait till you go into the mountains, my dear. Come along, now.’

You resume walking side by side, and he continues, ‘Now, since you’re our only guest this week, I can give you two options for your trip. We can do day-long rides with you, and you spend the nights here at the ranch. It’s more comfortable, but it does mean that you don’t get to go as deep into the mountains.’

Champ stops to take a breath. ‘Alternatively, you can go on a week-long pack ride with our cowboy and camp along the way, just the two of you. It's a magnificent journey, I can promise you.’

It’s a lot of information to take in so quickly, and you hesitate. ‘Um - ’

He holds up a hand at you and pauses abruptly, something catching his eye. ‘Ah, speak of the devil. Before you decide, you need to meet our cowboy. He'll be your guide for the week.’

You’re craning your neck to catch a glimpse when Champ bellows so loudly that you nearly have to take cover. ‘JACK! Son! Say hello to our guest for this week before you take the horses to pasture.’

Your ears still ringing, the silhouette of a man on horseback comes into view halfway across the yard. The dust seems to magically settle and part, and a handsome face framed by a cowboy hat, a tidy moustache and a wicked sharp jawline comes into focus.

‘Whoa.’

You belatedly realise that you said that out loud when Champ wriggles his eyebrows at you.

‘Howdy, ma’am,’ the cowboy calls back, tipping his hat politely. His voice rings brightly in the space between you, but the delicious lick of his Southern drawl makes goosebumps chase across your skin. You manage a weak smile and a wave, not trusting your power of speech at the moment.

‘Be back at four to take the lovely lady on her orientation ride, alright?’

Jack gives him a two-fingered salute. ‘Got it, boss. See you soon, ma’am.’

You watch unashamedly as the cowboy smoothly steers his horse around, and with a whistle, the dozen or so horses follow suit as he canters out of view.

‘So? What say you?’ Champ interrupts your thoughts with an expectant look.

You can’t help the stupid grin that breaks upon your face. ‘The pack trip sounds good.’

Champ claps his hands together so loudly that you jump. ‘Your wish is my command, ma’am. Or rather - Jack’s.' He winks. ‘He’ll pick out a horse for you and take you for a short ride to make sure you’re comfortable before the trip starts tomorrow. Sounds good?’

‘Perfect.’

Stopping outside one of the lodges near the river, Champ sweeps his arm in a flourish. ‘There we go, this is your lovely room for tonight, with the best views of the mountains. Poppy’s left some lemonade and sandwiches inside if you need a pick-me-up, and your bags will be with you shortly. Just make sure you’re ready by four. Got it?’ 

He holds up a hand to you, and you give him a high five. ‘Got it, Champ.’

‘Welcome to the Statesman, my dear.’ 

Watching you bound up the stairs with a spring in your step, Champ gives himself an imaginary pat on the shoulder. Well done, old chap. The plan is in motion.

You lay your outfits on the large bed as you chew on a delicious sandwich, weighing the options for your afternoon ride. You packed according to the list the ranch sent in your orientation email, but you wish you’d brought something nicer. They really should’ve included a hot cowboy warning.

You wanted to spend some time on the porch and enjoy the magnificent views of the mountains from your doorstep before the ride, but by the time you’re finally happy with your choice of clothes, you’re startled by rapping on the door.

Sucking in a steadying breath and smoothing back your hair, you turn the knob.

Fuck me sideways. This man is devastatingly good-looking on close inspection.

‘Hi, again,’ you smile, hoping your words didn’t come out as squeaky as it sounded in your head.

The cowboy returns your smile with teeth and tips his hat at you - black suede with a leather band - then offers you his hand. ‘Jack Daniels. Pleasure to meet you properly, ma’am.’

You give him your name and your hand. His grip is firm and assured, the slide of his palm against yours feels weathered and rope-worn. You cross your arms self-consciously, but the words that come out are bolder than you feel. ‘So, Champ says you’re my own personal cowboy for the week?’

He chuckles and plays along, giving you a small bow. ‘I’m at your beck and call, darlin’.’

His rich voice curls around every syllable, dipping and climbing with each inflection, but the languid cadence doesn’t waver. You decide here and then that this man can call you darlin' any time he wants.

He hooks one thumb through a belt loop, leaning his shoulder against the door frame. He runs his eyes up and down your body, both professionally assessing and not, lingering on your breeches, riding boots and half chaps. He arches an eyebrow at you and says in a playful tone, ‘So, I see you’re one of those fancy English riders.’

You gesture at the flannel shirt you’re wearing, the ends tied in a knot to give it a cropped fit. You think you look cute - hopefully. You choose to crack a joke, ‘Give me some credit, cowboy, I’m trying to fit in.’

He holds his hands up in surrender, pushing himself off the door. ‘My apologies, darlin’, where are my manners? The illusion is perfect. You ready to go?’

You grab your riding hat. ‘Absolutely.’

Jack takes one look at your helmet and tuts, plucking it from your fingers. ‘Oh no, that won’t do. That is one thing I don't allow on my rides. We’ll find you a real hat.’

It’s a short walk to the stables. You hang back with all the subtlety you can muster to quietly study the cowboy you’ll be sharing close quarters with for the next week. His walk is deliberate, he almost prowls, narrow hips undulating with the rhythm of his strut. When he reaches up to adjust his hat, his shirt strains over his broad shoulders, sleeves rolled up in the afternoon heat. Your eyes are about to dip a lot lower when he turns back to look at you, and you duck your head like you’ve been caught with your finger in the pie.

Are you imagining the touch of self-satisfaction that’s crept into his warm eyes?

‘So, how long have you been riding?’ he slows down so you can catch up with him. You’re relieved he doesn’t call you out on your very obvious appraisal of him.

You shrug. ‘Since I was a kid, but I haven’t been on a horse since - ’ You pause to rearrange your words. ‘- for almost five years. And I’ve always ridden the English way, so I don’t know how well I’ll do with Western riding.’

He brushes away your concern. ‘Western is easy, it’ll be a piece of cake for you, I’m sure.’

The stables are large and airy with rustic beams framing a vaulted ceiling. Utility barns are clustered outside in close vicinity, but all is still in the mid-afternoon hour. Your footsteps echo as you make your way down the concrete corridor, Jack’s sturdy cowboy boots treading heavier and louder than your riding boots. Large and tidy stalls line either side, some empty and some occupied.

‘The horses spend most of the summer outdoors,’ explains Jack. Stopping in front of a huge chalkboard nailed to the wall, he gestures at the daily schedule listed next to each name, written in a neat hand. ‘We keep them on a weekly roster to make sure their workload is evenly distributed.’

Resuming your slow course deeper into the stables, Jack asks conversationally, ‘What are you looking for in your horse for the week?’

It’s a broad question that you don’t quite know how to answer. You purse your lips. ‘To be honest? I don’t know, it’s been a while.’

‘Ok. Let’s put it this way - what’s important to you?’ He ticks off the options with his fingers. ‘Character? Temperament? Speed? Stamina?’

Is it just you or did his voice dip an octave on that last word?

Flustered, you struggle to come up with a reply. ‘Um - ’

Seeing that you’re overwhelmed, he wipes the slate clean with a wave of his hand. ‘I apologise, I didn’t express myself well.’ He changes tact. ‘Why don’t you tell me about your favourite horse?’

That you can do. You think about the last horse you really loved, before you met your ex, casting your mind back to long weekend afternoons at the local stables. The answer comes easily to you as your eyes fall to the tips of your black boots.

‘I like a horse that's forward-going but responsive to contact, and on the hot-blooded side with a bit of an attitude - I like a challenge.’ Feeling his eyes on you, you lift your gaze to his apologetically. ‘Sorry, was that way too vague or way too specific?’

‘Not at all. I appreciate a lady who knows what she wants,’ he reassures you, seemingly pleased at what he’s hearing. ‘I got just the horse for you.’

You must be in the middle of the stables structure now, when Jack makes a sharp right turn into a spacious room. Your eyes widen at the rows and rows of beautifully polished Western saddles, bridles and an assortment of other tack, some of which you don’t even recognise. Eyeing the signs above each saddle, you remark, ‘I see there’s a recurring theme in the names.’

Jack hoists a gorgeously embossed tan saddle off its rack on the wall, holding it against his side as if it weighs nothing, then grabs the bridle next to it and a saddle pad. ‘What do you expect from a ranch that also runs a distillery?’

Your eyebrows shoot up. ‘A distillery?’

‘Whiskey,’ he replies, making his way to the exit. ‘I’ll show you when we ride up the mountain, it’s on the other side of the ranch. Champ spends most of his time in the distillery nowadays.’

‘Can I help with anything?’ you ask, your hands feeling very empty as you trail behind him.

‘Not a chance, darlin’, you’re the guest. But you can watch if you want,’ he adds mischievously.

Lord have mercy. This man has gotten you more wound up in the last fifteen minutes with a few cheeky words than anyone has in a long time. Pull yourself together, woman.

You pass at least another dozen stalls - this is easiest the biggest stables you’ve ever seen - before Jack’s long strides ease, and at his whistle, the handsome face of a palomino pops up from behind a door. He nickers and nudges the cowboy familiarly on his arm, ears pricking up in alert when you come into view behind him.

‘Meet Scotch,’ Jack says in introduction, giving him a firm pat on the neck. With an easy swing, he rests the saddle on the top of the door and unlatches it, leaving it ajar for you to shuffle in behind him.

‘Hello, gorgeous,’ you can’t help but coo, running your palm from his forehead - painted with a fetching white star - to his grey, velvety muzzle. ‘He’s sweet.’

‘Wait till you get him on the open road - he’s a speed demon.’ 

You must have let your nerves show, because Jack reassures you, ‘But only if you want him to be. He’s just as happy going steady.’

You lean against the wall as Jack makes quick work of tacking up. You admire the gentle way he fits the bridle over Scotch’s head and the bit in his mouth. Reaching out, you help untuck his white mane from the browband, etched with pretty flowery patterns, and brush out the tangles with your fingers as Jack fastens the clasps.

You can’t help but catch your bottom lip with your teeth when, with a soft grunt, the cowboy lifts the saddle over Scotch’s back. His shirt, tucked neatly into his jeans, stretches taut and you eye the hint of a soft belly underneath. It rests above an almost obnoxiously large belt buckle in the shape of - are you shitting me - a flask with Statesman spelled out in capital letters.

You quickly look away before you’re consumed by the want to reach out and check if it’s a real flask.

The Western saddle has far more bits and bobs than you’re used to, but you’re too far gone to pay attention to what Jack is doing with his nimble fingers anymore.

‘There.’ He straightens, dusts off his hands and places them on his hips, one dark eyebrow up. ‘I hope you were paying attention, ma’am, I might quiz you later.’

Oh shit. You stammer, ‘Um, I mean, you were quite quick -’

Jack crosses his arms and smirks. ‘I’m pullin’ your leg, darlin’. You’re so easy to rile up.’

Before you can restrain yourself, you take a step forward and give him a playful shove in rebuke. The joke’s on you though - the pectoral muscle underneath your palm is lean and hard, and your push makes no impact at all.

‘Employee of the year, ladies and gentlemen,’ you jest, retracting your hand reluctantly.

He leans in close and gives you an almost insolent smirk, voice dropping intimately. ‘Stop distracting me, darlin’, or we’ll never make it out of this stall.’

Fuck’s sake - your cheeks literally flame. You’re about as subtle as a bucking bronco.

Taking mercy on you, Jack herds you out of the stall with no further teasing, and Scotch follows obediently behind. You’ve barely scraped your brains back together when he stops by a doorway at the end of the stables, holding up a hand that brings the gelding to a smart square halt.

‘Stay,’ orders Jack in a stern voice as if Scotch was just a very large golden retriever - he has the colouring after all. He then nods at you. ‘Come on in, darlin’.’

Stepping into the small room, you gasp in delight - every conceivable surface is covered with cowboy hats of all colours and materials.

‘Let’s see what your size is,’ Jack mumbles to himself as he plucks some options off the wall. There’s no mirror, and you hold your breath when he steps into your space, putting one hat after the other on you as he narrows down the sizing. His face is set seriously, the bow of his upper lip drawn downward, brow wrinkled in concentration.

Eventually, you run out of oxygen and you breathe him in - summer grass, leather and smoke. Your tongue darts out and wets your suddenly dry lips.

In the minutest of glances, you catch his eyes flickering to your mouth for just a second. If you weren’t looking for it, you wouldn’t have spotted the fleeting stutter in his movements as he fits you with a cream suede hat with a brown leather braid. It sits snugly on your head without any pinch.

‘Try tipping your head forward and back,’ he instructs you, breaking the quiet tension. The hat doesn’t slip, and with a tap on the brim and a smile, he declares, ‘I think we’re good to go.’

Stepping into the open air, the bright afternoon sun makes you wince, and you pull your new hat a bit lower to shield from the light. You follow Jack across the yard, heading towards a chestnut with white stockings, fully tacked and waiting at a wooden post. Ruffling his thick mane, Jack says proudly, ‘Darlin’, meet my horse, Whiskey.’

‘How very fitting,’ you remark, smoothing a hand on his strong neck. ‘Hi, Whiskey.’

Scotch, who has been following you two dutifully, bumps noses with his friend in greeting. Reaching for his reins, Jack looks at you with a question in his eyes - all the tacking up, prepping and joking around is done. Suddenly, the likelihood of falling off your horse and flat on your bum in front of the cowboy seems extraordinarily high. Maybe you really didn’t think this through -

‘Hey,’ Jack cuts short your thoughts, chucking you gently under the chin. ‘Don’t be nervous. It’s all muscle memory - like riding a bike, you can’t forget. You do know how to ride a bike, don't you?’

Your shoulders quake with a laugh at his attempt to lighten the mood.

He tilts his head at you. ‘May I give you a leg up, darlin'?’

At your silent nod, Jack brings Scotch around, and you hope he doesn't see you wipe your sweaty palms on your breeches. One hand on the saddle horn, the other on the cantle you bend your left calf up and back by the hinge of your knee. 

Jack steps in right behind your heels, his frame dwarfing you even as he leans down at the ready. One strong hand closes around your ankle and the other just below your kneecap. His voice is deep and brushes against the shell of your ear. ‘On three, darlin’.’

He hoists you up so easily that you nearly go all the way over the other side of the saddle, but you grasp the horn just in time and land squarely in the seat, albeit a bit clumsily. You can’t help but wonder what else he can do with his easy strength - a whole lot of other things, you reckon -

Scotch shifts underneath you as he adjusts to your weight. The basic instincts of being on horseback kick in slowly but surely. You gather the reins in your non-dominant hand, put the tip of your toes through the stirrup irons, push your heels down and sit up tall. You inhale deeply and smile at Jack, who’s checking the tightness of the girth and the length of your stirrups.

‘All good?’ he asks you.

‘Yes,’ you reply, relieved that you feel less like a fish out of water than you’d feared.

Jack unties Whiskey from the post. Slotting his foot in the left stirrup, he effortlessly pushes off the ground and swings his leg over the saddle, settling gently into his seat. It’s really not fair that he’s able to do it so easily in jeans that tight.

Whiskey starts leading the way towards the back of the property and Scotch follows, obviously not pleased to be left behind. Jack holds Whiskey back so that you’re walking alongside him. ‘You’ve seen people ride Western?’ 

‘I get the general idea. Reins in my non-dominant hand. Leg aids are similar.’

‘If you want to turn to the right?’

‘Reins to the right and shift my weight the same way,’ you reply, recalling the research you did before the trip.

Jack nods approvingly. ‘Sounds like you’ve got it sorted, darlin’.’

Going up a gently sloping path, the ranch disappears behind you as you begin to climb above the property, and the landscape dramatically opens up. Your breath catches at the sight of the rolling plains that stretch too far for your eyes to see, towards the Bighorn Mountains. Scotch’s ears prick up in excitement at the space, nickering and chomping at the bit. You keep your contact on the reins light even as he prances underneath you, mindful not to pull on his mouth.

Jack smiles, and you hope you're making a good impression. ‘Wanna warm up with a little lope?’

‘Lope? You mean a canter?’ you retort jokingly.

He chuckles at your cheek. ‘Alright, ma’am, look at you with your fancy words.’

With a stern finger pointed his way, you warn him, ‘You’re not allowed to laugh if I fall off, deal?’

‘I know you won’t, but for your peace of mind, I’ll cross my heart,’ he jokes and traces the motion over his chest with his thumb. ‘After you, darlin’.’

With the lightest nudge of your heels, Scotch steps straight into a smooth canter. The sudden movement jolts you forward in the saddle and out of balance, but you quickly adjust, and your hips begin to follow the flow of the familiar four-beat motion. The wind sings in your ears over the steady rhythm of hooves hitting the earth, the mountainscape blurring into green and blue.

Jack is keeping pace next to you from a safe distance, meeting your eyes when you send the biggest grin his way.

For the first time in months, you feel joy.

The sun sets on a mild evening, so you agree to an al fresco dinner by the fire when Jack poses the question to you on your return from the afternoon ride. 

After a quick shower and changing into casual jeans and a sweater, you meet the rest of close-knit Statesman team at the dinner table, and Champ explains the logistics of the pack trip to you.

‘Since it’s just the two of you, you’ll only need one packhorse. You’ll sleep outside for the first two nights, then on the third, you’ll get to the Halfway House.’

The peculiar name piques your interest. ‘Halfway House?’

Champ chuckles. ‘Halfway as in halfway through the trip. We’ll drive out to stock up the house, bring you fresh clothes and anything you’d need for the second half of the trip back to the ranch. We’ll also collect your dirty clothes and have them laundered by the time you’re back. So make sure you pack two bags, we’ll sort them out tomorrow.’

Turning to Poppy, he starts discussing the provisions for the trip, and you take the chance to shuffle closer to Ginger. Jack is at the far end of the table, deep in conversation with a man introduced to you as Tequila (you didn’t ask), so you’re sure he can’t overhear you. You clear your throat. ‘So, I was wondering what the… lavatory arrangements are like out there?’

She gives you a encouraging smile. ‘It’s all au naturale, I’m afraid. But there are plenty of bushes so privacy won’t be an issue. We bring a portable shower for guests for the days you camp out, and there’s running water and electricity at the Halfway House. But at this time of the year, Jack usually just washes off in the river.’

Your jaw drops at that revelation, and before you can close your big mouth, you babble, ‘Wow… um, by wow I meant… bathing in the river must be… cold?’

Ginger gives you a knowing grin and clinks your glass. ‘I think you’ll have a great time on this trip, honey.’

It’s early, as the first day of a pack trip always is. The chill from daybreak still clings to the thin mountain air, but the glare of the sun is already strong, even from behind his sunglasses.

Jack runs through his usual checklists. Vetting the horses, triple checking the tack, bedding, food, supplies, first aid kit. He’s collected your bag from your doorstep and loaded it on the packhorse. You pack light, which he appreciates.

He spotted you at the breakfast table earlier, almost done with your toast, when he crossed the yard with the horses, so he reckons you’re on track to make a punctual start. With the heat forecast, he wants to make it to the cover of the forest path before midday. If you make good time, a sunset dip in the lake is on the cards.

As he double checks if all the straps on the saddle bags are properly buckled up, his routine is disrupted by a firm pat on his back.

Champ is a bundle of energy even at this early hour of the day, his suit on just the right side of presentable despite the wrinkles. ‘Have a good trip, son, and make sure you show our guest a good time. I like this one.’

‘You like everyone, Champ,’ retorts Jack, but there’s no real bite in his words. ‘Not sure it counts for much.’

‘I got a good feeling about her, I’m telling you.’ 

The younger man sighs, one hand on the rump of the packhorse and one on his hip as he braces himself for the usual spiel. ‘C’mon, boss - ’

‘You’re young, you’re single! If you insist on hiding away on this ranch in the middle of nowhere, you might as well at least try to have a good time when the opportunity presents itself.’

‘Why don’t you bother Ginger about it? She’s young and single too,’ grumbles Jack as he resumes his checks.

‘Because I know she can take care of herself. But you?’ Champ makes a face.

‘Thanks for the vote of confidence, boss,’ he grumbles. ‘Just so we’re clear, I’m not hiding from anything. I actually like this job, but half the time I think you’re just trying to get rid of me.’

Spotting you over Jack’s shoulder, Champ gives him one last clasp on the arm. He leans in and says in a low voice, eyes sincere. ‘You don’t have to punish yourself forever, son. Live a little.’

Jack shakes his head as Champ moves away and calls out to you, his boisterous voice carrying even further in the cold air. He knows Champ means well. It’s not the first time he’s tried to set him up with someone, and he can confidently wager it won’t be the last. 

He knows for a fact that his boss rescheduled the Kingsman’s annual trip to engineer this one-on-one pack trip - they’ve been coming to the ranch the same time every year without fail since he started this job. He has no doubt they were more than delighted to be in cahoots with Champ in a scheme like this. 

Jack huffs a dry laugh to himself. He must be coming off as really fucking sad for Champ to go to such lengths this time. 

He straightens his well-worn denim jacket as you approach, looking almost shy this morning. You’re wearing a light fleece over what appears to be the same outfit from yesterday, hands tucked into pockets, hat dangling from the chin strap looped around your wrist.

He gives you a smile. ‘Mornin’, darlin’. Sleep well?’

‘Morning. Probably not as well I should have, considering we’ll be sleeping on the hard ground for the next couple of nights,’ you answer with a yawn, leaning on the post where the horses are waiting. You rub their noses affectionately. ‘Morning boys, how are we this fine morning?’

Jack gestures at the third horse. ‘This is Bourbon, our packhorse.’

‘Hey Bourbon.’ You give the pinto a firm pat, smoothing out his matted forelock.

‘You ready?’ asks Jack.

You put on your hat and nod determinedly. ‘Now or never.’

‘It’s not too late to back out, you know, ’ he jokes as you both start untying your horses from the post.

‘Oh no, you’re not getting rid of me now, cowboy,’ you quip.

When you’re both mounted, Champ and Ginger make an appearance, waving and beaming from ear to ear as you ride by. Champ grins, ‘Have fun, we’ll see you in a week! Don't come back unless you have plenty of stories to tell!’

You retrace the same path you took yesterday, up the back of the ranch and into the mountains. As the orange sun crests the top of the Bighorn, it dawns on Jack that he hasn’t spent any amount of time alone with another person for a long while, let alone seven continuous days with someone like you. 

He shakes his head. You’re a guest, that’s all. One who hasn't lost your gentle hands and soft seat despite not having spent any time in the saddle for years; who is quick on your feet yet easy to fluster; who laughs at his jokes and poorly concealed innuendos - but a guest. It’s his job to keep you safe this week, and he’s good at it. He’s done this for years and years.

Sometimes, he thinks that it’s all he has. 

Something like anxiety gnaws at his chest. You’re quiet, and he picks up on the stiffness in your shoulders. He clears his throat. ‘Nervous?’

You turn to him at his question, sucking in your bottom lip. ‘I suppose. Not about the riding, but… I’m a bit nervous about spending the week with you, to be honest. No offence.’

Well, at least he’s not the only one.

‘None taken,’ he shrugs nonchalantly. ‘And don’t worry, darlin’. Ol’ Jack doesn’t bite.’

His pulse skips a beat when you send him an almost impertinent sidelong glance. ‘I hope you do a little bit, cowboy.’

It takes him a second to let out a bark of laughter, and your whole body relaxes at the throaty sound. ‘Maybe I’m the one who should be nervous, then. Shall we stretch our legs? Start the day with a lope?’

Scotch recognises the word and whinnies, tossing his head excitedly.

A gentleman at heart, Jack adds, ‘Or later, if you prefer. We can go as fast or as slow as you want, darlin’.’

A slow heat burns under your skin at his words. Surely he must know what that sounds like, especially in that raspy drawl of his.

It must be the altitude that’s throwing your judgement out of the metaphorical window. Brazenly, you drag your eyes over him. His left hand grips the reins loosely, resting casually on the saddle horn, thick fingers of his other are splayed on his firm thigh, hips rocking to the pace of his horse.

You meet his curious stare in a challenge, imbuing your words with as much meaning as you could, letting a coy smile stretch your lips.

‘Let’s go fast, cowboy.’

As soon as your heels touch his sides, Scotch takes off at a lively stride, and Jack watches you go with a chuckle to himself.

‘Careful what you wish for now, darlin’,’ he mutters under his breath, and then he comes after you - fast.

Notes: Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed this first part! Comments and reblogs will be very much appreciated. If you would like to be tagged in the next part, please fill in my taglist.

If anyone is interested, there are some more horsey notes below (if it's boring, please let me know and I'll shut up lol):

About 'gentle hands' and 'soft seat': a kind rider uses 'quiet' aids to communicate with the horse (i.e. no pulling on the bit or flapping legs), and follows the horse's movements with their hips (i.e. their seat) to be gentle on the horse's back. It's a very subtle skill and you use a lot of core strength that is built over the years - sitting quietly on a horse is much harder than it looks!

If you can't tell, I ride the 'English' way and have never ridden Western. I've done as much research as I could, but if there are any inaccuracies, please let me know!

[triptychgrip]

Impact of figure skating politics on post-canon Yuri!!! on Ice

So, even aside from the rampant doping, I think many people are familiar with how the politics within the sport of figure skating really suck -- whether that's in terms of how skating federations meddle with their athletes' careers in ways these athletes clearly don't want or don't even know about, the way regulatory bodies -- the International Skating Union (ISU), and its various Commissions -- can and do remain silent when it comes to speaking out on abuse or corruption, or the complete shit-show of bias within judging, sometimes on a ludicrously visible level.

After all, this is a sport where a judge that showed clear bias at the PyeongChang Olympics was not only invited back to judge at the Beijing Games, but was given the position of being the technical controller!

Sheer madness...

It makes sense why Yuri!!! on Ice didn't delve into this stuff in a 12 episode season b/c the reality is: it's a major bummer.

But I work in public policy and am a social justice researcher whose career focuses on institutional change. So I often find myself asking the question "what would cause institutions/people/movements -- especially with a lot of history and influence behind them -- to change for the better, whether by 'force' (public outcry, insider advocacy, etc.) or their own volition?" It's a question I started thinking about a lot almost as soon as I got into Yuri!!! on Ice a few years back, and specifically, thought about in a post-canon context.

Some of the politics-related questions that surfaced for me, included:

-When Viktor returns to skating, how would his federation (the FFKKR) choose to treat his absence? Would they, perhaps, "make an example" of him at the Rostelecom Cup, purposely underscoring his performances? Or, would they have "given up" on him, trying to focus all of their attention/resources on Yurio's obvious rising star potential?

-Further, would they (with tacit or explicit media support) take a negative stance regarding his and Yuuri's highly public relationship -- perceiving Viktor's romance as a "threat" to his ability to return to the field as strong and focused as before -- or would they choose to ignore it, altogether?

-How would Yurio's growth spurt (which is hinted at in canon) impact the FFKKR's treatment of Viktor if the former is no longer able to put out the kind of performance that he did at the Barcelona Grand Prix Final? Or if Georgi retires from the field?

-How would skaters that wish to skate independently of corrupt federations -- something that is currently not possible under the way the ISU is structured with 'member nations' -- navigate their careers, and what avenues would they have at their disposal to avoid burn-out from the shitstorm of pervasive corruption?

-How would politics affect our favorite characters at an event as globally visible as the PyeongChang Olympic Games, and in its aftermath? (I say this with the caveat that I generally write yoi fic w/ the premise that it took place during the first half of the 2016 skating season, though there is no way to pinpoint the actual season).

All of these questions kept circling about in my head, and I felt highly motivated to begin writing a multichapter, post-canon "future fic". Specifically, a fic that would tell the story of married Yuuri/Viktor at the 2022 Olympic Games, but jumping back in time at various points over the previous five years to showcase how a particular scandal -- other than doping -- at the 2018 PyeongChang Games has "followed them" throughout the years (and has deeply impacted the sport/our other favorite characters).

This fic turned into a series called "Gold's On The Inside, Elevated My Feet", which currently is at 293K total words, and is being updated 1-2 times per month.

I know a lot of people aren't into long, novel-length works, especially if they're WIPs, but if you, like me, are fascinated by some of the real-world issues that might impact Yuuri/Viktor/Yurio and others post-canon, I hope you'll consider checking my work out.

I've included a spoiler-free excerpt from Chapter 11 of part 1 of the series, below, that I feel hints at the politics while encapsulating the Viktuuri fluff, friendship antics, and overall supportive themes that I've tried to weave into my stories.

I hope it piques your interest and encourages you to check the series out, or my other Yuri!!! on Ice fics!

---------

“First of all, how the hell would you have even managed to contact me from all the way over in the Kiss and Cry?” Phichit went on. “Did they imagine you had waved a wand to send a carrier pigeon flying through Gangneung Ice Arena to land directly on my head ? After which, it would peck an intimidating message in Morse code straight onto my scalp?”

Yuuri was now hiccuping giggles, and he was pleased to see that he’d begun to wipe a profuse quantity of tears from his cheeks.

When his best friend had told him that he wanted to hear all the nitty-gritty details of his International Court of Arbitration for Sport (ICAS) hearing, Phichit had definitely had some misgivings; Yuuri and Viktor had flown to Lausanne for their own proceedings directly after the latter’s retirement party in Milan, and given what they’d told him about each brutally long-winded 4 hour session, he’d known fun things were not in store for him.

“But Yuuri without his glasses on can be very intimidating…very sexily intimdating,” Viktor said with a grin, prompting a playful slap on the arm from his fiance; thanks to Yuuri’s thirsty fans, the hashtag #Yuuri’sNearsightedSexySquintTally had become a staple on the competition circuit, and both he and Viktor had taken to alluding to the phrase as much as possible.

“Yes, I’m sure that’s exactly what permanent-frown-dude-arbitrator was referring to,” Yuuri responded, sarcastically, “my nefariously sexy squinting that so very clearly spelled out that Phichit better file a claim, or else.”

He and Viktor both laughed, and he shared a few more snippets from his hearing before conversation moved along to discussion around the other Olympics claimants’ hearings.

“Oh my god, just imagine Christophe during his,” Yuuri said, before giving Makkachin a kiss, right to the top of her fuzzy head.

The poodle was splayed out across both of her dog-dad’s laps, taking up much of the bench directly in front of the rink boards at Hasetsu’s Ice Castle. After their hearing, the couple had flown to St. Petersburg, spending just a few days there to get Makka and Meni and do a round of cursory packing. They’d then taken off for Japan where they planned to stay until mid-June, which was the beginning of the rainy season.

Even from afar, Phichit had been able to keep tabs on Yuuri thanks to Nishigori Yuuko. After thoroughly bonding with her at Viktor’s retirement party – after all, a willingness to drunkenly act out the unhinged plot of The King and the Skater 3: Because Time Loops Are A Thing tended to solidify people in Phichit’s mind as lifelong friends – she had been messaging him through Instagram as well as contributing heavily in the “Yuuri Support Squad” chat.

Soon enough, he’d be able to keep tabs on him in-person, as his own trip to Hasetsu was just three weeks away.

“He’d be all: ‘And then, my esteemed arbitrators, I got distracted from calculating Yuuri’s grade-of-execution, because my eyes were too busy lingering on his delectably muscled thighs as he came out of his triple-lutz, triple-toe combo’,” Viktor said, in a deliberately put-upon Swiss accent, while lasciviously licking his lips.

Phichit barked out a laugh while Yuuri grinned at him.

“Are you sure you aren’t just verbalizing the thoughts you wish you could have expressed during your hearing?” he asked his fiance.

Viktor gasped, theatrically, and clutched Meni even more closely to his chest before responding.

“I would never think such a thing! I’ve become an expert at admiring your beautiful thighs while simultaneously calculating your GOE,” he said, sounding proud. “As any good coach should be.”

[independence1776]

19 Questions Meme

Supposed to be 20 questions, but one seems to have vanished along the way. Thank you to @spiced-wine-fic for tagging me.

1. How many works do you have on Ao3? 120, though some of those are moodboards instead of fic.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count? 492,336 words. I'm not prolific.

3. What fandoms do you write for? Star Wars, in the Kanan comics niche of the Rebels subfandom but I also work in rather a lot of Prequels-related material and I love the JFO/Survivor era. I also wrote a lot in the Tolkien fandom, Silmarillion side, but I'm only dipping my toes into the fandom at the moment and I'm not sure I'll return in depth.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos? 

I am not the world's biggest fan of sorting by kudos; kudos doesn't mean best, it simply means popular. And often in the case of AO3, it means "in a popular fandom" so it skews results. There are plenty of fantastic fics that don't have a lot of kudos. And just because they're in the top-5 doesn't mean the author thinks they're their best works.

I'll step off my soapbox now. In order from most to least: To Remake the Universe (MCU), In Deep or In Darkness (MCU-Young Wizards crossover), Never Discussed But Silently Acknowledged (Star Wars), An Unexpected Welcome (Tolkien), Evolving Roles (Star Wars).

5. Do you respond to comments? Always. On one level, it's simply polite to say "thank you" to compliments. On an entirely different level, commenting on fics was how I found fandom friends, especially in my early years in fandom.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? The one where I killed (BBC) Merlin.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? *shrugs* I mostly write happy endings. Readers' choice of which is the happiest. 

8. Do you get hate on fics? A few times. I'm generally able to laugh about it now. There are a couple of hate comments I find truly hilarious.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Nope.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? Love 'em. I write a lot of Star Wars-Tolkien crossovers. I have no idea which one people would think is the most out there.

11. Have you ever had a fic translated? Yes. The two I know of are on AO3 but there have been a handful of others over the years that people asked if they could translate and I have no idea if they ever were, where they were posted, or (at this end of time) even what stories they were.

12. Have you ever co-written a fic before? A fic, no, but for a bit, I co-wrote a short-lived series.

13. What’s your all time favorite ship? Elrond/Celebrían for Tolkien. For Star Wars, Han/Leia and Padme/Anakin. Favorite noncanon Star Wars is Owen/Beru/Obi-Wan.

14. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? ...So I posted a WIP a couple of weeks ago. It is the only WIP I've posted because my policy is to only post completed fics. I'd hoped that I'd get some encouragement to write more but I'm honestly not sure anyone realized it was a WIP because I didn't get encouragement to continue or a single "looking forward to more!" type of comment. I lost the little bit of enthusiasm I had because I'd been stalled on the fic for a while (I began writing it in fall 2020!) and it really feels like I could walk away from it and no one would care.

15. What are your writing strengths? I am sadly the type of writer who has a hard time seeing her strengths.

16. What are your writing weaknesses? Description is my go-too weakness. You can probably add writing romance to this.

17. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? I prefer not to except for dramatic effect. I'm, for better or worse, monolingual. And I refuse to learn conlangs just to read a fic. If there's too much dialogue in a conlang, I'll hit the back button.

18. First fandom you wrote for? Mutant X.

19. Favourite fic you’ve written? I don't have an answer for that. Or at least a permanent one; there's a handful of fics that rotate through that position depending on mood, time of day, opinion toward the fandom, etc.

[softguarnere]

Friends That I Barely Know

David Webster x reader

A/N: Two fics within 24 hours? Who am I? I'm procrastinating, actually, all of these assignments that I have to finish over break that are crushing me. School policy says that we're not technically allowed to be assigned work over breaks and holidays, but since I was given assignments to do on what was supposed to be my time off, I'm extremely bitter and feel justified in writing for BOB instead of writing about a book I did not understand :) I started this fic when I was going through a Webster phase, and it was just supposed to be a short reunion piece that took place during The Last Patrol, but then it got waaayyyy out of hand. My bad. (As always, this is written for the fictional depiction from the show -- no disrespect to the real life veterans!) 💕🕊️

Warnings: the usual HBOWar stuff: language, blood, war, death, some angst, more clumsily written romance from yours truly (read: someone very inexperienced with romance)

Webster is nothing if not a writer.

At least, that's how he sees it. He spends more time than the average person narrating things in his mind as they happen, taking note of small details, stringing together sentences that he words and re-words until they're just right so he can put them on paper when he has the chance. And in all that, he's spent a lot of time writing about you.

He's mentioned you in letters to his parents, describing your beauty, your fearlessness in combat. But in his head he knows how he would write your speech cadence, how he would describe the endearing way you stick your tongue out of the corner of your mouth when you concentrate -- all of it. Yes, he could probably write the other people in E Company just as well, but he could devote pages upon pages of spilled ink to you. Because, he realized at some point after the D-Day jump, he's in love with you.

Being separated from the rest of Easy is hard. Webster is fine, really -- or for the most part -- and doesn't need to be taking up space in the hospital when there are people with worse injuries. At least, that's what he keeps trying to explain to the nurses, who probably think that he's going crazy with the way he keeps trying to get out of bed and the way he keeps talking about rejoining his company.

The only thing keeping him in check is writing. Even when there's no paper, just writing in his head, readying the words that wait for the moment they can be preserved on paper. And most of that writing is about you.

He wishes it were to you, but most of the letters he tries to send to anyone in E Company have been returned, or lost. He tries to tell himself that this is normal, that this is just what happens in wars, and that something isn't horribly wrong.

Finding out that he will be returned to Easy feels like a crushing weight has been taken off his chest. Returning to the friends he trained with back in Toccoa feels like returning home after being lost. The thought of seeing you, though -- the thought makes him almost giddy.

A giddiness that soon hardens into something too familiar when he's told to find second platoon. He tries not to feel the eyes and the scoffs that follow him from truck to truck as he tries to find a place with his company -- his company, who are all acting like they've never seen him before in their lives.

Rejection. He can name the sour feeling in his stomach because he felt it enough times during childhood. But much like the way that the rest of Easy is treating him, the feeling had become an afterthought that he had hoped to never come face to face with again.

"You must have liked that hospital," Liebgott is saying. "because we left Holland four months ago."

Why does he feel like he's on trial, having to build a defense for himself? "Well I wasn't there the whole time. There was rehabilitation, then the replacement depot --"

"Well, I'm not sure why you didn't bust out and try to help us in Bastogne, Web." Liebgott sniffs.

"I don't know how I would have done that."

"That's funny. Because Popeye found a way. So did Alley, right? Back in Holland." Beside him, Heffron nods in agreement; he won't even look at Webster. "And (Y/L/N) --"

"(Y/N)?" Cold dread floods Webster's stomach. You had been hurt and he hadn't been there.

Jackson shifts as the truck moves, like he's trying to put distance between himself and Webster, even if it means leaning into the man on his other side. "Sergeant (Y/L/N) is fine now."

"Sergeant?"

"Christ, Web," Liebgott scoffs. "You missed just about everything, and somehow you still seem shocked."

Not shocked, Webster wants to correct him but doesn't. He's just surprised by all the news coming his way all at once. And surprised that he hasn't seen you, especially if you're okay and a sergeant. Shouldn't you be with the platoon?

The order to move out drags him from his contemplation and into the present moment. (Because he can be present when he really tries; he's just very good at day dreaming and it's a habit.) The feeling of being judged sticks to him like paste all the way into the CP, but then at least the arrival of the new lieutenant takes some of the focus off him. Being relieved that the new replacement -- an actual replacement -- is taking the same flak as him shouldn't make him feel better, but he can't help it.

"We'll find a place for you, Webster," Lipton assures him.

And then it happens.

"Find a place for who?" Even after four months, he would know the sound of your voice anywhere. It's different, somehow, like the war has dulled some of it's shine, but it's still you. And then you walk into the room with Lieutenant Speirs and freeze, just like his heart does upon seeing you.

Back in Toccoa you had been a bright and shiny new-recruit, always smiling and laughing when you didn't have to be serious during training. But now the grime of Haguenau has settled onto your face, just like everyone else, and you look so serious.

Webster has pictured your reunion a thousand times. Any time that he needed strength back in the hospital, he would imagine seeing you among the company, how you would look up and catch his eye, break into a smile, and how the two of you would run to each other -- friends, reunited at last. (And then after that, he would finally tell you everything, because he knew back in the hospital exactly what he wanted to say. Maybe that sweet reunion would lead to something more than friendship.)

Instead, you stare at him with a blank face, like you can't believe what you're seeing. His heart fumbles, finally picking up the pace, and it begins to race; he's grateful that his ribcage holds it in place, or else it would have run to you without him.

"Webster?" You finally ask.

"(Y/N)," he breathes.

"Sergeant (Y/L/N)," Lieutenant Jones says, standing up even straighter than before. Webster could smack the guy on the back of the head for making it so formal, but he doesn't.

Your expression shifts. From beneath your helmet, he can see your eyebrows furrow in thought. You don't look happy; it's like a storm is clouding your face, making it hard to recognize you. "What are you doing here?"

"I just got back from the hospital," he answers for the hundredth time that day. "I'm waiting to see what platoon I'll --"

"No. I mean here."

"What does that mean?"

"(Y/N)," Speirs interrupts. "We're needed elsewhere. We need to go.”

“Right. Sorry, Captain.” You fix Webster with one last stern look, then grab some papers from Sergeant Lipton and follow Speirs from the room. Webster feels like he’s stuck until he hears the last of your footsteps echo away.

What are you doing here? Well, that certainly hadn’t been how he hoped you would react. And from the glances and pitying looks being thrown to him by others in the room, they weren’t expecting that kind of response either.

“Captain?” Webster says finally, both for the purpose of breaking the awkward silence and for piecing together more of what he has missed. “What happened to Captain Winters?”

“He runs the whole Battalion now,” Lipton says. There’s no elaboration. If Webster wants an explanation, he’ll have to find it elsewhere, because everyone starts in on a conversation about a patrol across the river – a conversation that’s he’s not included in, and that makes him feel awkward and guilty for hearing it, like he’s once again a child eavesdropping on his parent’s late night dinner parties, wishing that he were old enough to join in instead of observing from the fringes.

At least they tell him which platoon to join before he leaves.  

--

The news that you will be on the patrol just feels like one more trick of the universe to keep the two of you apart. No, not even a trick. From what information Webster has managed to glean from the others and piece together, some higher power must have it out for you, what with everything you have had to go through the past four months, and now this added to it.

Having rich parents gets you a lot of things in life. Webster learned that quickly over the years. Positions, memberships, almost anything. That was why he was so determined to not rely on their money and status once he joined the army. For once, he wanted to know what it was like to be just like everyone else. He sometimes felt like a journalist, stepping into a role and going undercover to get the inside scoop. But he enjoyed being amongst the other men and feeling like one of them. Not like his life before the war, where even when he was among people from similar backgrounds, he felt like he was only being tolerated.

So far he has spent the war decidedly not chasing any promotions or volunteering for things that might get him noticed. He doesn’t want to stick out, but he also doesn’t want to be left behind; there is a grey area that he has learned to operate in in order to survive the military. Now, though . . . Now is different.

“His German is just as good as mine,” Liebgott had spat as they made their way out of the briefing. And before Webster really had time to consider what he was doing, he was marching up to Winters and asking to be the translator on the patrol. And, to his relief –

“Liebgott,” Winters had called as you and the man in question start to walk by. Good, Webster thinks. There’s no need for three translators on the patrol. You’ll be safely on this side of the river . . . But then he catches what Winters is saying, and it’s not to you. “You aren’t needed for the patrol tonight.”

Webster’s heart drops. Liebgott nods, thanks Winters, and shoots Webster a wink before leading you off, throwing an arm around your shoulder as you go. Once again, your expression contorts into one of confusion and hurt as you cast him a horrified look before allowing Liebgott to lead you away.

Liebgott’s arm stays around your shoulder as you walk out of sight. You two had always gotten along, but when had that happened? (Or had it happened?) Just one more thing that he had missed in four months. His heart feels even heavier.

He had just been trying to help you, but he’s left standing in the street, feeling like he’s just done some sort of irreparable damage.

--

“Jackson, listen to me! You’re not gonna die!” Doc Roe is trying to reassure the boy on the table while simultaneously keeping him still and examining his wounds. The room around him has descended into pure chaos as he tries to help the boy in front of him, which is not the ideal condition to work under.

The German prisoners are yelling, Easy men are having to hold back their fellow soldiers from rushing them. People are trying to help Doc Roe and to hold Jackson down while others still stand towards the corners of the room, eyes wide as they try to take it all in and decide what to do.

Your gentle fingers card themselves through Jackson’s hair while you whisper reassurances to him. Under better circumstances, Webster could pen whole verses about your duality – how you can fearlessly take charge in combat, but also be a gentle beacon of hope for soldiers who need it in their final moments.

“Jackson, you’re gonna be alright buddy,” Webster tries to reassure the boy on the table as he convulses. “It’s gonna be okay. Just stay still – “

The lies drip from his tongue until the second that the nineteen-year-old goes still in front of everyone. The already foul mood in the room becomes even heavier. You help Roe and a few others take the body away, and then you disappear.

There is no sleep for anyone. Not on a night like this. The first rays of sunlight streak themselves across the sky soon after anyway, and then everyone is crowding themselves into a room to meet with Winters. Webster barely takes in anything that’s said, he’s so busy trying to read your guarded expression.

Everyone leaves the room in a slightly better mood than when they entered, the promise of a good day of rest ahead of them. There’s a bunk somewhere calling his name, and Webster knows that he should get some sleep, but after everything that has happened, he really just needs a minute alone to register it all. He’ll probably crash at some point later in the day.

He’s pulled out of his thoughts by a hand latching onto his elbow, bringing him to a halt. Other soldiers push their way out of the room as they head towards the beds that they claimed as their own, but you tilt your head down a hallway. Something heavy rests in your eyes. You don’t look disappointed or angry anymore. Defeated and tired, maybe, but no longer like you want to slap him for just existing.

Webster follows you down the hallway, painfully aware of the echoing of his and your footsteps as they trail off from the sounds of the others. You push open a door at the end of the hallway and nod, beckoning Webster to enter before you shut it behind you.

The bedroom is small, but at least the bed looks decent, compared to some of the bunks with paper thin mattresses with the springs poking out that he saw some of the others lounging on yesterday. But then again, after what he read about Easy experiencing in Bastogne, anything other than a whole in the ground probably feels like sleeping in a palace. He’s about to wonder aloud whose room this is when it hits him – Sergeant (Y/L/N); getting your own room is now one of the perks of your new rank.

He draws a breath to speak, but you beat him to it. Once you've closed the door, you keep your hand upon it, leaning heavily onto it and not meeting his eyes when you ask, “What are you doing here? Why did you come back?”

There’s that question again. Maybe it would hurt less if you stomped on his foot and ran off laughing. Always too expressive for his own good, he can’t keep the hurt out of his voice when he quietly replies, “The hospital let me go.”

“No, I mean – “ You turn abruptly, and the first thing that he notices are the tears brimming in your eyes. You wipe at them, but to no avail. “Christ. Why did you let them? You would have been better off staying there.”

“Did you not want me to come back?”

“Of course I wanted you to come back! Every day after they took you to the hospital, I wanted you to come back. Then your letters stopped coming and mine started getting sent back unopened because we were moving around so much, and I worried for you. But then with everything that happened in Bastogne, I told myself that at least you were safe. At least you were warm and had food and were away from the line. If it had to be one of us, I was glad to be the one living through that hell because you got to be safe.”

With every word, his heart feels heavier. “You didn’t think I could handle Bastogne?”

“That’s not what I’m saying.” Your sigh comes out as more of a strangled cry, and now the tears that you’ve been trying to hold back stream down your cheeks in angry rivulets. “Not all of us are writers, and I can’t make the words do what I want them to. I’m trying to say that I’m glad it was me, because if something had happened to you, or if I had to see you miserable, it would have broken me. I wouldn’t have been able to handle it. But knowing that you were okay gave me a reason to keep going. To keep fighting.”

“So that’s what you meant when you asked why I was here?”

“Now you’re in just as much danger as me.”

For as good as Webster might be with words, he can’t find the right ones for this. Instead, he takes a tentative step towards you. He’s only just started to open his arms when you charge towards him, barreling into his arms and wrapping yours around him as you let out a sob into his shoulder.

As close as you had been earlier in the war, as tight as your friendship was and as open as you were with each other, Webster has never actually seen you cry. Something about it is very vulnerable; it’s like you have handed him your exposed heart and he has to show you – wants to show you – that you can trust him to hang onto it.

“It’s okay, (Y/N),” he whispers, rubbing a hand up and down your back. “I’m not in danger.”

“You’re in a war zone,” you sob.

“We’re in a war zone,” he corrects gently. “We’re here together. You don’t need to worry about me, okay? Nothing is going to happen to either of us. We’ll be fine.”

“You can’t promise that.” You’re right. Making promises in a place like this is like that old saying about telling God your plans to make Him laugh. Webster isn’t trying to tempt the cruel, cold hand of fate; he’s just trying to comfort you. Still, his father always taught him that a man is only as good as his word, and Webster always carries a full arsenal of those. He will use as many of his best ones as he can to show you that his intentions are good.

“It’s not a promise – it’s a piece of hope. Do you know why we’ll be fine?”

You shake your head against his shoulder.

“Because now we have each other,” he explains. “I’ll watch your back, and you’ll watch mine. Just like we used to.”

“Some good that did. I let you get shot in the leg.”

Webster freezes. “That wasn’t your fault, (Y/N).” God, have you been blaming yourself for that the whole time? Is that why you wanted him away from the line – to guarantee that he wouldn’t be hurt on your watch? “Nothing that happened was your fault.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. You pull back a bit, still keeping your arms around him, but leaning away enough that you can look into each other’s eyes. “I wish we had reunited differently.”

He does too, but he doesn’t want to make you feel worse, especially when he’s starting to understand your actions. Gently, he wipes away a fresh tear that’s running down your cheek. “It’s alright. All these months, I’ve just wanted to run to you and hug you, and I got to in the end.”

You hesitate, and he feels his face heat up as he wonders if he chose the wrong words. Instead, you bring your hand up to his cheek. He sees you swallow back your tears and sees your breath hitch.

“Well I’ve wanted to do this.” You lean in slightly, then pause, like you’re asking for permission. Webster’s own heart stumbles as he realizes what’s happening, and he nods, and then closes his eyes as he leans in for your lips to settle over his.

The kiss is salty from your tears, but it’s more tender and welcoming than anything he’s experienced before. When you pull away, your eyes are cast down.

“Sorry, I – “

“Don’t apologize,” he assures you, unable to help the smile that’s pulling at the corners of his mouth. “I’ve wanted it too.”

Your smile is watery, and the sound you make is somewhere between a giddy laugh and another sob, but you lean into his shoulder again, hugging him tight. “God, David. I’m happy you’re back, truly.”

David. For so long he’s been nothing but Webster. It’s as if you’ve restored some piece of who he was in a past life. But he’s not that man anymore. When you call him David, it’s as if he’s been re-christened into something new – something better, something more than he once was.

“I’m glad I’m back, too. And that we’re together.” When you look up at him again, he caresses your cheek, and his heart feels full when you lean into his touch; he’s imagined things like this before, yes, but it’s sweeter to actually experience it. “And don’t worry about me, okay? We have each other now.”

“We have each other again,” you agree.

After all, what more can someone in a war zone ask for than to have somebody who cares about them by their side, watching their back?

[grimalkinscratches]

How about 🤯 and 🎃?

Also, ✨ and 🎨 :3

🤯 What's a genre you struggle with as a writer (ex. romance, action, etc.)?

Action! Fight scenes are hard for me, yet I keep trying very hard. But if you read a fight scene that I wrote, and it feels stilted, it is very much because I Tried My Best and didn't have the patience to run it through my joyfriend's fight choreography brain before posting.

🎃 Do you write fics for certain holidays? Which is your favorite holiday-inspired fic?

In recent years, I think the closest I've gotten to writing any fic based off of a holiday was...hysterically enough, a superhero origin story for a tabletop character OC for a Marvel-DC amalgamation universe setting. It was a Halloween masquerade party where she happened to get her powers while stressed from social anxiety in the bathroom. I usually lean away from holidays, because I'm neutral to 95% of them.

My favorite holiday-inspired fics usually tend to be Secret Santa fics. Less because of the holiday involved, but because it makes a fun romance exercise in intimacy through material gifts, fun with surprise and plenty of "o h"s to be had. I'm soft for characters who are just not at all used to receiving any kind of gifts, who give themselves fully, and then get bluescreened immediately upon receiving even a pen. I do not have the link for it on hand because I read it years prior, but there was a human AU for the X-men that I liked that had Rogue and Gambit ambush each other with Secret Santa gifts.

✨ Give you and your writing a compliment. Go on now. You know you deserve it. 😉

GOSH DANGIT. Um...hells, I write very fun dialogue. I really hit my comfort zone writing scripts for webcomics, so I'm used to leaving physical descriptions and actions to an illustrator but making 150% effort to pull my weight with dialogue and worldbuilding in return. This has resulted in my dialogue being very fun and my worldbuilding being spicy!

🎨 How do you feel about fan art of your stories?

SAL dklafj;ldkfjslkflkfjsdkfljsdfjk you have DRAWN ME FAN ART ALREADY, YOU FIEND you and Haze's art is LITERALLY the ENTIRETY OF THE OF SAGES AND WARRIORS FANART GALLERY ON AO3

As an open policy, I will always welcome fanart as long as it's not pornographic. I adore fanart; I love seeing people interpret what I've put down into a visible medium. It is a supreme compliment and never something I will get fully used to (not in a bad way! I just never want to take such kindness for granted).

[lilac-5ky]

LOVE LOVE LOVE THE ASSISTANT x GETO FIC OMG 😩😩😩 are you considering a part 2 for it? like they go on the date, maybe a little more office sex? love your writing so much, i’ve come back to the assistant fic so many times and it’s been one day

awww i'm so glad you enjoyed it! tysm!!

writing a part 2 isn't really something i plan on doing, but since you asked, i could offer my opinion on how the whole thing escalates, cause i always think a bit further into the past and the future when it comes to fanfics.

they have a christmas date, probably go to a light show and browse the christmas markets together. it all goes well, and suguru drives her home, they kiss and she asks him if he'd like to come upstairs, but they likely end it at that since he still feels guilty about the whole "coercion" thing.

when they return to the office on monday, satoru 100% knows and he interrogates him. suguru doesn't share the details and even holds a bit of a grudge since he feels played bcs of how satoru manipulated him, but y'know. satoru just teases him and jokes around until he is forgiven, and the next time he flirts with reader in front of suguru, suguru actually gets in the way and they admit that they are dating. satoru makes a comment about how dating is against the company's policy for fun, but that's about it, he says they make a cute couple and lets them live their romance lmao.

BUT YEAH after all that, i think they just have more dates, and suguru starts doing more stuff for her, like driving her back/forth from the office, having dates both outside and inside the office when they're swamped with work. he wants to take things slow, but let's be honest, they probably have sex again within a week :p and yes, they definitely do it in the office again, for old times sake.

A LOT OF PEOPLE HAVE ASKED ME FOR A SEQUEL, and I kinda feel bad about not writing one, so at least, I wanted to share my thoughts once about how I intended this to go after. Hopefully my answer doesn't disappoint you too much!

[stillarobyn]

shyan reclist (3/3)

I started watching a little internet show called BFU, you may have heard of it, on June 7 (my birthday) of LAST YEAR. So like, happy 255 Days of me watching the antics of Ryan and Shane? I’ve known who these men are for less than a year, which seems impossible.

In this time I have read a STUPID amount of words about these boys, so to celebrate this non-event, at the encouragement of my good friend  @redxluna I present my personal Shyan Fic Reclist. Turns out it’s an absolutely insane task to fit 50 fics into one list, so I’ve divided it into 3 lists:

Canon-Adjacent Fics

AU Fics

Polyam Fics

Note: These are in chronological order in each of their categories, according to when I added them. I’m notoriously picky with my bookmarks, so just because your favorite fic isn’t here doesn’t mean I didn’t like it.

Complimentary Disclaimer: If you are directly associated with anyone written about, move right along, this is not for you. I include this note as a courtesy because the fan-creator barrier is too thin for this Old Guard Fan, and this is RPF.

Polyam Fics:

this one’s for when two isn’t enough

A Perfect Piece of Ass, Like Every Californian by beethechange (explicit, 25.7k)

“Happy birthday, Shane,” Sara says. “I got you a Ryan.”

“Th—thanks?” Shane says. He looks at Ryan and Ryan just looks back, weirdly impassive, giving nothing away. “But I’m pretty sure I already have a Ryan in this model. What’s the return policy?”

“Not like this, you don’t,” she says, raising her eyebrows meaningfully. Out of the corner of his eye Shane can see Ryan bring his hand to his mouth, stifling a snicker that he turns into a cough. Oh, he thinks.

Oh shit.

Shane/Ryan/Sara. This fic summary is like, imprinted in my brain. I have not been able to get it out of my head since I read it.

look how they align by sarcasticfishes (explicit, 23k)

>Are you guys sure you want me around tomorrow night? he asks, lying on his back under the covers of his bed, phone held to his chest and breathing slowly until he feels the vibration of Shane’s reply just minutes later.

>Of course we do. Why wouldn’t we?

Ryan grimaces as he types out the words, >It’s Valentine’s Day. Don’t you want to do romance stuff?

--

5 times Ryan was a voyeur, and 1 time he wasn't.

Shane/Ryan/Sara. A short series wherein Ryan realizes he could be a part of Shane and Sara’s relationship if Shane wasn’t so bad at saying so.

I'll be your man if you got love to get done by drunkkenobi (explicit, 6.4k)

Shane and Sara return from an overseas trip with a few sexy surprises for their boyfriend, Ryan.

Shane/Ryan/Sara. Porn with feelings. Shane and Sara stole one of Ryan’s jerseys for some nefarious purposes while away.

I have seen it all in paper dreams by StrikerEureka (teen, 16.2k)

In the wake of his latest breakup, Ryan begins to realize that his closest friends might just be what he’s been looking for. But first he has to accept that he wants both Shane and Sara, and that they want him back.

Ryan puts his hand on her back, his last two fingers overlapping with Shane’s, and Sara plants a loud, exaggerated kiss on the top of his head. She keeps her arms around them, elbows hooked behind each of their necks, holding them what should be uncomfortably close. But Ryan just feels warm.

He’s content not to move, uncaring of the sight they must make, standing ankle-deep in the sand, huddled up together, with this tiny girl holding them both in a headlock. Closing his eyes, for a moment, Ryan just breathes.

For the first time, he’s not thinking of all the ways that this thing taking shape between them could go wrong.

Shane/Ryan/Sara. This whole fic feels like a falling in love montage.

triptych by justcourbeau (explicit, 6.6k)

trip·tych

/ˈtriptik/

noun

• a set of three associated artistic, literary, or musical works intended to be appreciated together.

Shane/Ryan/Sara. This is impressively indulgent and sexy in its familiarity.

i like us better when we're intertwined by uneventfulhouses (explicit, 11.5k)

He’s scrolling through his phone for something to do when a hand presses on his shoulder. He expects it to be Ryan, but pink fingernails tell him it isn’t. He looks over his shoulder to find Mari looking at him, her face close enough that he can see each one of her eyelashes and every freckle that dusts the bridge of her nose.

“Hey,” she says. “Are you going to come to bed?”

Shane raises his eyebrows. “I’m fine on the couch—”

“Shane,” she says, cutting him off. She rescinds her hand, leaning against the seatback of the couch. “Come on, get the light. You can come sleep with us. There’s plenty of space.”

Not at all against his will, Shane gets up and shuts off the light in the living room after double checking the front door is locked. Mari takes his hand, lacing their fingers together.

Shane/Ryan/Marielle. Ryan’s Shane’s boyfriend, and Marielle’s Ryan’s girlfriend, and after this weekend, they’re all something more.

The Ringer by beethechange (explicit, 9.2k)

Then Ryan leans in conspiratorially, all his attention trained on Sara. “What, is the gentle giant not enough for you?”

She inhales shakily, caught off guard by the question, and it makes him grin. Ryan’s smile has always been sunshine, pure sunshine, but now it’s the kind that you bask in and find out later it’s given you solar keratosis.

“It’s not about enough,” she says. “It’s about different.”

“You just need someone to take care of you, huh?” Ryan asks. He reaches out to tug on one of her curls, to push it behind her ear, and it makes Shane want to sit on his own hands. “Big guy’s not pulling his weight, so you need a ringer to come in and do the job right?”

Shane/Ryan/Sara. This hit me in kinky places I didn’t know I had.

got nothing to lose but emptiness and hang-ups by beethechange (explicit, 17.7k)

“My girlfriend wants to have a threesome,” Shane tells him. “A, uh—a ménage a trois, if you will.”

Ryan absolutely will not.

This is not a place for such conversations, even if they were the kind of friends who have them—and they aren’t. There’s nowhere Shane could say that to him and have it be normal, but in this place it strikes Ryan as particularly unseemly.

“Shane, this is a haunted prison,” Ryan says helplessly, the way you might say sir, this is an Arby’s.

Shane/Ryan/Sara. Shane perhaps doesn’t have the best sense of timing.

Green Light, Go by calico_fiction (mature, 7k)

It's less momentous, figuring out that he's into men too, than Shane would have expected if he'd ever thought it could happen to him. It's no revelation or epiphany. It's just Ryan.

Shane/Ryan/Sara. Shane explores his sexuality in the midst of a queer revelation inspired by Ryan. Sara helps a lot. This has kink discovery and negotiation, polyamory negotiation...everything I love, basically. I’d lowkey chew my arm off for a follow-up.

Not a Crowd by blacktofade (explicit, 12.5k)

Shane's night has been planned for over two weeks now in the sense that he parks his car outside his place at exactly six-thirty, there’s a light on in the upstairs bedroom, and the blinds are drawn like there’s someone in there. And when he puts his key in the lock, he doesn’t have to unlock the deadbolt first because someone’s already done it. And when he steps inside and toes off his shoes, there’s the soft sound of Sara’s laugh and a responding voice that’s unmistakably male.

Shane/Ryan/Sara. I have no one to blame but myself. There’s some kink in here.

the rest of your life by bestliars (teen, 30.6k)

MYSTERY DISAPPEARANCE IN THE MIDWEST! The year is 2034. Successful video producer Ryan Bergara uproots his whole life to take care of his friend’s children.

Shane/Ryan/Sara, but this is almost a gen fic. Shane and Sara disappear and per their Wills, it falls upon Ryan to care for their kids. Spoiler: they come back, and it’s a Second Chance Romance.

we go together, better by sarcasticfishes (explicit, 3.4k)

Shane is calling him before work because this isn’t about work

Shane/Ryan/Marielle/Sara. Set during lockdown, pre-poly facetime porn.

Hazy by colazitron (mature, 1.6k)

Mari's intrigued by Shane and Sara's whole... situation.

Pre-Shane/Ryan/Marielle/Sara. I love the setup of this snapshot.

[iliveiloveiwrite]

Just A Natural Fact

Request: hii I was wondering if I could request a marauders sirius black x reader where sirius black, the reckless & loud marauder, has a soft spot for the kind & responsible reader. sirius' duality is thus teased by sirius' best friends until they too get to know her throughout the school years; amidst the slow-burn flirting & maturity, the rest of the marauders realize the the two of them balance each other perfectly & they too appreciate the reader's character & love for sirius. thx if you can! ♡ - @thisismiku​

A/N: Title - Paula Abdul - Opposites Attract. Thank you so much for sending in this request, I truly hope you like it and that I’ve done it justice. And I hope you don't mind but I’ve combined with my prompt for @dreamer821​ ‘s writing challenge. Congratulations, JJ - you deserve all 500 followers and more! The prompt I used is in bold! I’m feeling a little insecure about this fic if I’m being honest, I’m worried that it isn't the best that it could be so I’m so sorry if it isn't! Nevertheless, I do hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Sirius Black x Fem!Reader

Warnings: swearing, immaturity, slow burn flirting/romance, sneaking out, fluff, bit of angst (but not a lot), use of she/her pronouns

Word count: 3.9k

First year:

It was hard not to miss the way Sirius Black climbed the stairs in the Great Hall to be sorted into his house.

It was hard not to miss the silence from his relatives at the Slytherin table when instead of Salazar’s house, he was sorted to into Godric’s.

Your sorting is over relatively quickly. Sorted into Gryffindor, you make your way to the table, sitting yourself next to the now silent Sirius Black. He picks at the food on his plate, not focused on the rest of the sorting until three boys he must recognise from the train, all sit with him.

“Are you okay?” You whisper. Glancing to your right, you see him nod once before plastering a smile across his young face, greeting the boys now sat with you.

They spend their first meal at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry laughing and joking as if they’re old friends catching up. You spend your first meal at the school silently worried for the boy next to you; wondering about the reaction from his parents.

From the sound of his laughter so close to your ear, it seemed that he was to make himself known to the house and your year group.

Sirius Black was very much your opposite in more ways than one. It would be a miracle if a friendship was formed.

Second year:

You begin to notice a pattern with Sirius Orion Black. He had made himself known already for being the class clown and prankster; acting aloof and reckless in the halls. He and his tight-knit group of friends had their targets for their pranks.

His personality was amped up to the maximum whenever he received a letter over breakfast. It didn’t happen often; once a month and you knew that it was from his parents. For a moment after reading, he would watch the table in silence, taking in the words that were no doubt written to hurt.

Then his head would snap up; a wide grin forming, and you knew that the following week would be full of mayhem and the screams of students on the unfortunate end of their pranks.

Second Year continues much the same as the first. You’re determined to do well in your exams; you stick to your timetable and ensure that you’re ahead on assignments. You’ve settled into your friendship group well, though they would admit that they often worry how much time you spend in the library.

However, it has helped, by the end of Second Year, you’re tutoring others in Potions and Charms. It all goes on your transcripts, but you’re happy to help in any way you can.

But despite all of that, you wonder if you could help the young, long-haired Marauder.

Third year:

Third Year begins much the same as your Second. You settle back into your academic routine after taking the summer off to enjoy the sun and relax with your family and friends where every so often, your thoughts drifted to long-haired boy who garnered attention as if it was going out of fashion.

A change in seating plan has you sat next to Sirius Black in History of Magic. Professor Binns changes the seating plan at the beginning of every year to keep with school policy, but he never truly enforces them so it’s odd that Sirius chooses to remain in his spot next to you.

You try not to think too much of it; focusing on the work each lesson, quill scratching away at your parchment as you note down facts on the Goblin Rebellions of the seventeenth century.

Sirius focuses for a while as well; making the odd note here and there until a wad of paper hits his face. Thrown by his friend James Potter, no doubt, as you hear his laughter from across the room. Sirius loses all focus then; instead, throwing the ball of paper between his hands for a minute before launching it back across the classroom.

It continues like that for most of the lesson, until the ball of paper is caught by Remus Lupin who smacks James on the shoulder. Remus doesn’t say anything, he rolls his eyes at James’ hurt expression before returning to his work.

A quiet voice interrupts your watching of the scene, “I hope we didn’t distract you.”

You respond just as quietly, “You didn’t.”

He smiles, “Good. I’d hate to pull you from your notes.”

From there, Sirius spoke to you more often. Greeting you in the Great Hall every morning, grabbing your attention in class. The Marauders would chuckle at him; not understanding his sudden need to be around you.

Every morning in the Great Hall, Sirius would receive a swift elbow to the ribs from James who would nod towards the entrance where you would linger for a moment before walking to your seat at the table. “You can relax now, Sirius. (Y/N) is here.”

Sirius’ head would snap up at the mention of your name. He smiles at you as you take your seat among your friends. One of your friends nudges your side, pointing down to where Sirius sits, whispering something in your ear. You roll your eyes at her before waving to Sirius.

A slow friendship begins to emerge; he’d seek you out in the library, sitting with you quietly as you studied. You would search him out in every class you shared, catching his eye with a smile which he returned toothily.

The friendship was new; you were still getting to know each other. The time you spent together was filled with whispered conversation about childhoods and hobbies. He’d sit and listen to your stories with a smile on his face; happy to get to know you inside out. There was something so inherently good about you – he felt drawn to your nature.

Remus approaches Sirius in the Gryffindor common room one evening. He couldn’t understand why Sirius had sought you out to be friends. You were both so different; Sirius was hurtling down the route of becoming the school’s bad boy – all leather jackets and smoking by the Black Lake. You were the epitome of kindness walking down the straight path of good grades and heading towards being appointed Head Girl.

Remus sits next to Sirius on the couch, saying, “(Y/N) is a good person, Sirius; she’s kind and responsible.”

“I know that. What are you saying Moony?” Sirius asks, an eyebrow raised.

“I just want you to be careful.”

“I’m not going to hurt, (Y/N), Remus. I want to be her friend.”

“I can’t help but be concerned. You’re so different, Padfoot. You see that right?”

“I do, but that’s why we’re going to work.”

Fourth year:

From the beginning of fourth year, your friendship with the Marauders began in earnest. Your social groups blended into one, and you didn’t feel as intimated by them all as you once did. They weren’t as wary as they once were; they weren’t as worried as they once voiced to Sirius. You spent more and more time with Sirius; your kindness had earned you his trust and his walls slowly began to crumble. There was something so open about your face and so kind in your touch that he couldn’t help but fall under your spell.

--------

A hand on your shoulder drags you from your dream. Before you can scream, a hand covers your mouth and a familiar voice whispers, “Lumos.”

In the pale light from the wand, Sirius’ grey eyes meet yours. They’re red-rimmed, but he has a small smile on his face. He pulls his hand away from your mouth, whispering, “Come with me.”

You shake your head, replying just as quiet, “Sirius, it’s three in the morning.”

His shoulders shake with silent laughter, “Live a little, (Y/N).” He stands at the side of your bed, holding a hand out to you, “Come with me… please.”

And there is something so vulnerable in his expression that you take his hand, grabbing your jumper and pushing your feet into your slippers.

In the light of the common room, Sirius looks over your outfit, snickering at the sight of your bunny slippers. You glare at him, tapping your feet, “They’re my favourite slippers, Black. They’re called Norman and Leonard; I expect you to be respectful.”

Sirius covers his mouth with his free hand for his other one had not let you go yet. He stifles a laugh, “I’m sorry, I won’t laugh again. They’re very lovely.” His voice breaks on the last word, and you rip your hand from his.

“Sirius, I don’t sneak out, so if you woke me up to make fun of me then I’m going back to bed.”

“No, wait,” He reaches for your hand again; happiness flows through him when you let him take it, “Come with me please, I can’t sleep.”

“You promise not to make fun? I don’t do this, Sirius. I follow the rules for a reason.”

“I know but trust me on this.”

Sirius doesn’t let go of your hand as he leads you through the portrait hole and through the school to the astronomy tower. You have to walk faster to keep up with his long strides but keep up you do.

He doesn’t let go of your hand upon arriving at the astronomy tower; neither does he let go of it once he sits on the cold, concrete floor, pulling you down to sit next to him.

The coldness of the floor seeps through your thin cotton pyjamas. You shiver from the feel of it. Sirius doesn’t miss this; he’s shrugging off his jacket before your teeth can start chattering.

“Here, take this.”

You’re enveloped in his jacket; the sleeves far too long for your arms to fit comfortably. You wrap it around yourself, enjoying the residual warmth left over from his body but also committing to memory the smell that is so distinctly him: leather, cinnamon, cloves and a hint of tobacco.

You knock your foot against his leg, “What’s the matter?”

“What makes you think something is the matter?”

“It’s not like you to drag me out of bed so late into the night so something must be the matter.”

Sirius smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes, “Like I said earlier, you need to live a little.”

You huff, rolling your eyes, “There’s nothing wrong with being responsible, Sirius.”

“No, you’re right.” He mutters, eyes focused on a spot far away in the distance.

Sirius falls into silence; his mind further away than his body. He breaks the silence a moment later, “I got another letter from my parents.”

You take Sirius’ hand in your own, “Oh, Sirius…”

“They’re being themselves – comparing me to Regulus as if I don’t already know he’s the better son. He’s a Slytherin, for Merlin’s sake.”

“It’s a shame.”

“What is?”

“That your parents never took the time to know you.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because they would see what a wonderful man you’re turning out to be.”

Sirius rests his head on top of yours, “Thank you,” he whispers, voice choked with emotion.

There were moments in your friendship with Sirius that he took your breath away with the sheer scale at which he was able to feel things. In times like this when he spoke about his family, his brother, and his fears, you’re shocked at the implicit trust he holds you in. You would never break this trust; you couldn’t, it’d go against every cell in your body to do so.

So many wonder how the friendship works; so many wonder how two people as opposite as you are could be so close friends. They don’t see moments like this where Sirius breaks down his walls and lets you in. They don’t see the moment where your kindness and fierce loyalty to your friends comes shining out of you as you listen to his words and wipe away his tears if needed.

They don’t need to see it. It’s for you and Sirius to experience with your hand in his and his head resting on yours.

In the morning, he’s calmer and he’s breathing easier than he was last night. He’s grateful to have you by his side; you calm him down – you help find sense in all the mess of his emotions. You remain patient as he stutters out his problems and you listen to each and every word. You’re kindness’ incarnate, he swears.

He drops a kiss to the top of your head before sitting next to you at the breakfast table. Sirius doesn’t miss the puzzled and amused looks from the rest of the Marauders; he shakes his head at them as he piles food onto his plate. They’re his closest friends in the world, and they tease him relentlessly for how he’s latched himself onto you, but he couldn’t be less bothered. They don’t need to understand the friendship, but he’s grateful that they accept you without too much question.

Fifth Year:

As fifth year begins, and the pressure from OWLs begins to mount, you start spending more and more time in the library. You study for everything; going over topics you’re confident on whilst also revising the topics you aren’t certain on whatsoever.

You revise a lot with Remus, him being a calming presence when studying as he explains subjects in such a way where the panic leeches from your body and you feel you finally have a grip on it. He’s a natural born teacher. 

Sirius joins you some of the time, but his confidence over the exams has you panicking more. So he would meet you in the common room after, pulling you to one side to quash any remaining fears that your studying had not resolved.

He would finish his speech with a kiss on your cheek or your forehead that had your body heating from the touch.

It was a physical friendship; it always had been. Neither you or Sirius were afraid to show your affection through a kiss on the cheek or a hug.

But lately those touches started to linger. His lips would rest on your cheek a second longer than they used to, and his arms would hold you that little bit tighter as if afraid of the minute where he would have to let you go.

Your own feelings had changed; you had given your heart to the long-haired Marauder without even realising it. Your eyes lingered on him longer, noticing things you hadn’t before – such as the way he always had a leather band wrapped around his wrist, to ties his hair up should he need to, or the way that his nose scrunched up before he started to laugh in earnest. Your heart stuttered in its beats whenever he laughed. Your heart was his to break should he wish.

You didn’t know that Sirius was feeling the same. He thinks he fell in love with that night in Fourth Year in the astronomy tower, but he didn’t realise it until half way through Fifth Year when you caught his eye across a classroom and smiled at him so widely that it knocked the very breath from him. He’d given you his heart and he didn’t even know he had.

There was something simmering under the surface of the both of you. It had the flirting becoming more and more noticeable to your friends and the Marauders. It had teachers wondering if you’d finally gotten your act together and confessed.

Your friendship with Sirius was on the verge of becoming something more. It was if you were both performing a balancing act. Each holding onto the other’s hand, teetering on the thin wire, wondering which way you’re destined to fall.

-----

“You’ve got six down wrong,” Sirius murmurs over your shoulder; mouth close to your ear.

You huff, reading over the crossword clue again, “I’m absolutely positive that it’s right.”

Sirius’ finger points to the clue, “It isn’t Plantagenet.”

You turn from where you lean against his side. Raising an eyebrow, you ask, “How do you know so much about muggle royalty and history?”

He taps the side of his head, “I just do, love.”

You snort, smiling, “I don’t believe you for a minute.”

Sirius shrugs with a chuckle, “Don’t. Let your crossword be wrong.”

You frown, looking back down at the crossword, thinking over the clue. It takes a minute before it clicks. You shove at his shoulder, “Sirius! The answer isn’t wrong!”

He laughs at the angry expression on your face. “Sirius, you’re such an arse.”

You make to move away from him; to sit further down the couch from him but he grabs your hand as you start to shift, pulling you back against him. You glare at him, but the glare soon melts at the happiness reflected in his grey eyes. You stare at each for a moment, unaware of the rest of the common room. The only thing you’re focused on is him and his grey, grey eyes.

-------

James, Remus, and Peter watch the scene unfold in front of them. You shove at Sirius’ shoulder with a shout, but Sirius grabs your hand, pulling you further into his side. You both look at each other; staring into each other’s eyes as if there isn’t an audience watching.

The trio watch the scene unfold, and they each have the same thought: they’re perfect for each other, and they’re blind to it.

Sixth year:

On a Monday morning halfway through Sixth Year, Remus, James and Peter sit next to Sirius in the Great Hall with the intention of getting him to figuratively pull his head out of his arse.

“When are you telling (Y/N) that you’re in love with her?” Remus greets; always blunt when needed.

Sirius chokes on his drink.

“It’s pretty obvious, mate.” James states to Sirius’ dismay.

“Do you think she knows?” He asks.

James shakes his head, “No, she doesn’t. Are you going to tell her though?”

“What if she doesn’t feel the same?”

“Not possible.” James states as if it’s the simplest thing in the world.

“Yeah, we watch you together all the time. (Y/N) looks at you like you hung the stars in the sky for her or something. It’s intense to watch, honestly.” Remus says.

Sirius frowns, “I don’t want to ruin what we have.”

“Sirius,” James sighs, “I don’t think you could even if you tried. We’ve all watched you for the last month or so and if we didn’t think you were perfect for each other before, we do now.”

“Yeah?” Sirius asks, so much vulnerability in that one word.

All three nod. Remus pats his shoulder, “Go talk to (Y/N).”

Sirius leaves his friends in the Great Hall, making his way through the rush of students desperate to get to their first lesson of the day. He knows he’ll find you in the common room; having the first lesson every Monday off as a free.

You’re sat on one of the many red leather couches that decorate the Gryffindor common room, pages of parchment in your hands as you read over your revision notes for your advanced classes. Sirius sits next to you on the couch; you immediately change your position to make room for him on the couch.

“I didn’t expect this,” You greet.

Sirius grins, “I missed you at breakfast, what can I say?”

You laugh, “You’re a flatterer, Black.”

In the quiet of the common room, you find your peace with Sirius. His very presence calming your mind but sending your heartbeat racing with a single look from the corner of his eye. You had become used to the way he affects you; how a smile can leave you breathless and a wink can leave your skin overheated.

“I can’t keep lying to you anymore, (Y/N).” Sirius states all of a sudden, voice breaking the silence.

“When have you lied to me, Sirius?” You ask, worry evident in your voice.

“Every day since fifth year.”

Your hand drops into your lap, “What?”

“With every touch, every kiss on the cheek. I lied through it all. I didn’t want friendship. I wanted more.”

“What do you mean, Sirius?”

“I’m in love with you. This isn’t a childish crush; I know I’m in love with you. Break my heart. Break it a thousand times if you like. It was only ever yours to break.” He says; eyes blazing, hands on either side of your face, tilting it up to look at him.

“It has only ever been yours,” Sirius repeats.

Your hands cover his as you reply, “Just as mine has only ever been yours.”

He gasps; lips parting as he stares down at you. “Do you mean it?”

You nod, “It has been for a while.”

You gaze into each other’s eyes, letting the euphoria of your confessions wash over you both. One of Sirius’ hands leaves your face to settle on your waist, pulling you that little bit closer to him. The silence is deafening; it’s charged with a heady electricity.

Sirius breaks it with a whispered question, “Can I kiss you?”

Your nod is the only answer before his lips envelop yours. He controls the kiss, throwing all emotion into it. He’s felt this way for so long and he’s finally getting to hold you in his arms with the passion he’s felt for so long. You smile into the kiss, and it almost drives him to the brink of madness with the way you’re responding to him.

You pull away breathless. Sirius peppers kisses all over your face – on your cheeks, on your nose, on your forehead. Wherever he can reach, he kisses because he’s so damned happy right now.

Sirius holds tightly to him, staring into your eyes. “I’ll love you until my very last breath, and even after. If there’s another life after this one, I’ll love you there as well.”

Tears line your eyes at the beauty of his words; at the fact that they’re being said to you. You sniffle, saying, “Sirius Black: a romantic who’d have thought?”

“I pour my heart to you; I kiss you and you make jokes? I see how it is, I’ve been a bad influence on you.”

“Poor baby,” You coo, beaming up at him.

“I am. I’m hurt and I think you should kiss it better.” He says, grinning wickedly.

“Anything to heal,” You quip, smirking.

Sirius pulls you back in for a bruising kiss; taking control the moment your lips touched. He pushes you further into the couch; his body weight feeling perfect on top of you. Your hands tangle in his hair, eliciting a low groan from the back of his throat at the slight pull of your hands.

For so long you had wanted this man. For so long you had yearned for this man who was so distinctly your opposite in every way. It shouldn’t work, but as his lips travel to your jawline, you realise that it does.

It works perfectly.

Seventh year:

From the outside, they’re a pair you wouldn’t necessarily put together. Sirius is loud, and he’s brash and sometimes he doesn’t think before he speaks, but around you – he quietens, as if the constant noise in his brain finally settles and he can think straight. You’re quiet, kind and responsible – always there to help people, but Sirius brings out a side of you that enjoys a little recklessness, even if that is sneaking out to watch the stars or to view the castle at night or to make out in one of the lesser travelled corridors.

You balance the other. You help him keep control of his emotions; he helps you come out of your shell a bit more.

Those outside the relationship don’t need to understand it; all they need to see is two ridiculously happy people, each with a depth-defying love for the other - and that’s a natural fact.

*******************

General (HP) taglist: @the-hufflefluffwriter​ @obsessedwithrandomthings​ @kalimagik​ @summer-writes​ @lupins-sweater​ @slytherinprincess03​ @mischiefsemimanaged​ @soleil-amaryllis​ @masterofthedarkness​ @bforbroadway​ @chaotic-fae-queen​ @peachesandpinks​ @nebulablakemurphy​ @haphazardhufflepuff​ @siriusly-addicted-to-writing​ @firewhisky-kisses​ @deafgirltingz​ @kylosleftbuttcheek​ @heloisedaphnebrightmore​ @harrypotter289​ @sprvpti​ @accio-rogers​ @potterverseimagine​ @figlia--della--luna​ @angelinathebook​ @dreamer821​

Sirius Black taglist: @cheapglitter​ @fific7​ @approved-by-dentists​

[stark-tony]

tododeku fic recs

* = incomplete

meet you again someday (after we take the long way ’round) by theroyalsavage

summary: Midoriya Izuku's life is saved by a boy with the strongest Quirk he has ever seen. 

Eventually - inevitably - he falls in love.(An AU in which Todoroki never attends UA, they never clash at the sports festival, but they come together all the same.)

pairings: tododeku

tags: hurt/comfort

warnings: none

that is just the way by celestialfics

summary:  Shouto has his first sleepover.

pairings: tododeku

tags: fluff

warnings: none

what is right and what is easy by theroyalsavage

summary: Midoriya Izuku is not chosen to represent Hogwarts in the Triwizard Tournament. He does not slay a dragon, or rescue innocents, or brave a maze of dark magic. He does not win accolades, or fame, or glory.

Instead, Izuku meets the son of the greatest dark wizard of the age, a Durmstrang student with hair like a sunrise and eyes like a war. And maybe, he just might win something else.

pairings: tododeku, kiribaku, tsuchako

tags: fluff, angst

warnings: none

First Time For Everything by kazzarole

summary: Midoriya is the catalyst of many of the 'firsts' in Shouto's life--it just makes sense that Shouto should share his first kiss with him, too.

pairings: tododeku

tags: fluff

warnings: none

alone together by celestialfics

summary:  Five times when other Class 1-A kids notice Todoroki and Midoriya in their own world.

pairings: tododeku

tags: fluff

warnings: none

A Simple Warmth by patster223

summary: “I’m trying to make Todoroki a sweater for his birthday, but…” Izuku pokes at the tangle of yarn. “It’s more complicated than I thought it would be.”

In which Izuku sucks at knitting, his classmates are eager to help out, Todoroki finally gets to be cozy, and knitting is a vector for romance.

pairings: tododeku

tags: 

warnings: none

Conventional Taste by WowBoring

summary: He didn’t think it would matter if Midoriya were taking him to a sewer convention; it was probably still going to be the highlight of his Golden Week.

In order to avoid a visit from his unpleasant grandparents Todoroki attends a hero convention with Midoriya, and learns a few things along the way.

pairings: tododeku

tags: fluff

warnings: abuse

pls respond by Esselle

summary: 'Midoriya: UR SO CUTE

Shouto chokes on nothing. How is he supposed to respond to that? Is he supposed to respond at all?

Midoriya: Look at your big head aaaaaaaaaaaaah Midoriya: *Image Attached*

Oh, Shouto thinks. He was talking about Shouto's Nitotan, which is now smashed to one of Izuku's cheeks in the image Izuku just sent, as Izuku squeezes it joyfully. Even if Izuku wasn't talking to him directly, the butterflies in Shouto's stomach feel a bit joyful, too.

He types out: I wish I were that Nitotan right now. Then he snorts, and erases it.'

--

Izuku has a wide variety of special moves, but his Key Smash might be the most powerful of all.

pairings: tododeku

tags: fluff, humor

warnings: none

i can keep a secret, could you? by handcrusher (ameliafromafairytale)

summary: The last thing Todoroki wants is for his father to figure out that 1) he's gay and 2) he's dating the boy he's supposed to overcome as a hero. So, he and Midoriya devise a plan.

Just how long can they keep it up?

pairings: tododeku, tsuchako, momojirou

tags: 

warnings: 

hold on tight by lunalou

summary: "What are you doing?" Shouto asks.

"Hugging you." Midoriya returns in a patient voice. His arms tighten around Shouto's waist and he presses his forehead more firmly against his back. "You know it's a hug, Shouto-kun. Don't play dumb."

or, five times somebody from 1-a hugs todoroki and the one time he hugs them first

pairings: tododeku

tags: 

warnings: 

If I'm Being Honest.... by I_dont_know_man

summary: Midoriya scrunched up his nose in confusion. “Uh, Shouto, why are you glaring at me like that?”

“I-” Todoroki began to lie, until nausea slammed him like a door to any room that Bakugou entered. “I--” Todoroki grit his teeth, and glared daggers into the wall behind Midoriya. Goodbye, friendship. It had been absolutely divine while it lasted. “Because you’re very attractive.”

They say honesty is the best policy, but it sure as hell had a knack for Todoroki making a complete and utter fool of himself. 

  In which Todoroki is placed under a mysterious truth-telling quirk and suffers, Uraraka laughs at him, Midoriya is confused but smitten nonetheless, and Twitter is the thirstiest site on the planet.

pairings: tododeku, kiribaku

tags: humor, fluff

warnings: 

Guiding Light by furihatachlookie

summary:  It was his mother's idea to enroll him at the local elementary school. His father believed a private tutor was better, but nobody can argue with a mother who's made up her mind, and a balanced exposure to kids his own age sways his father's judgement enough to agree and sign the papers.

pairings: tododeku

tags: fluff, angst

warnings: 

Todoroki and Yaoyorozu's Elite Study Club by hanwritesstuff (hannahkannao)

summary: “Well, as I see it, we have two options.” Shouto holds up two fingers. “We can either ignore this and pretend it never happened or... not.” He doesn't know which one he wants. “What does not entail, exactly?” Yaoyorozu asks. “...I don't know.”

In which Todoroki accidentally learns something about Yaoyorozu, Yaoyorozu accidentally learns something about Todoroki, and they spend a considerable portion of their study sessions... not studying.s

pairings: tododeku, momojirou

tags: fluff, humor

warnings:

Do What You Will, If That's What You Want by stanzas

summary: “What do you mean you’re retiring?” Bakugou asks nicely, or at least as nicely as someone like Bakugou can ask. The question is phrased more like a demand.“

Call it a mid-life crisis,” Shouto answers, like Bakugou asked him what the weather would be tomorrow, and takes a deep sip from his coffee. “I’m thinking of changing careers.”

The world of heroes is quick to adapt to surprises, but Pro Hero Entropy’s (very premature) retirement announcement throws almost everyone for a pretty impressive loop.

pairings: tododeku

tags: hurt/comfort, angst, humor

warnings:

extra, extra! by rythyme (pugglemuggle)

summary: Shouto & Creati: ACTUALLY Dating?! by Hitachi Hitomi at September 18, 2047 3:42 pm."Ever since heartthrob 

Todoroki Shouto and the Everything Hero "Creati" made their official debuts, the two 22-year-old heroes have been nothing but professional towards each other. But was this all a sham to cover up the truth?" 

Or: The media thinks Shouto and Creati are dating. Hint: they aren't. A multimedia TodoDeku & MomoJirou fanfic told through news articles, gossip columns, twitter, tumblr, text messages, and more.

pairings: tododeku, momojirou

tags: fluff, humor

warnings:

you broke the dark and my whole earth shook by aloneintherain

summary:  Shouto had imagined himself as the country’s top hero for decades. Endeavour had put those images in his head when he was a child, and they had stayed there, growing like a fungus, until Shouto had reached adulthood. Even now, he was only just beginning to realise he didn’t have to live his life according to almost thirty-year-old decisions made by his abuser. He could do more. Be more. Outside of the hero community.

Izuku gets a job offer in America. Somehow, this brings Shouto and Izuku closer than ever before.

pairings: tododeku

tags: fluff, hurt/comfort

warnings:

count your blessings, not your flaws by PitViperOfDoom

summary:  Midoriya Izuku has never been asked out, confessed to, or flirted with, except as a joke.

pairings: tododeku

tags: angst, hurt/comfort

warnings: bullying

call the fire department (i'm burning up with love) by Edgedancer

summary:  An (abridged) list of things Todoroki Shouto did not have before U.A.: Loud neighbors. Fire alarms. Friends. Midoriya Izuku.

pairings: tododeku

tags:

warnings:

long nights and daydreams by dreamtowns

summary: According to the public, Pro Heroes Deku and Entropy are an amazing Hero Duo, best friends, and the most eligible bachelors in the world. According to their fans, they’re head over heels in love with one another yet oblivious to the others’ feelings. According to their friends and family, they’ve been in love with one another since high school, but, for reasons unknown to them, refuse to act upon said feelings.

According to said heroes, they have been (secretly) married for six years.

pairings: tododeku

tags: fluff, hurt/comfort

warnings: 

extra-salty/twitter-verse series by SportsAnimeRuinedMyLife (KnightOfRage)

summary:  In his third year at UA, Todoroki Shouto works in a burger place, catches on fire and falls in love. Only two of those things are on purpose.

Or...Todoroki Shouto's exciting adventures in customer service.

part one of the extra salty/twitter-verse

pairings: tododeku, kiribaku

tags: fluff, humor

warnings: none

More Than Skin-Deep by Emmeri

summary: It was a fact, really. That he was ugly. Having a scar which takes up half his face kind of does that, in Todoroki's eyes. So why does he overhear the girls call him the class pretty boy?

He'll just have to ask Midoriya about it; he has too little filter to tell anything but the truth.

pairings: tododeku

tags: fluff, angst

warnings: 

Your Biggest Fan by Latios

summary: He opens the bag on the floor to see what could have been left in there-- and promptly freezes, staring at the contents inside.

“Midoriya.” He calls.

“Hm?”

“You bought our hero merch?”

~

Aka, Class 1-A starts to see themselves appear on merchandise in their local stores. Todoroki tries not to buy things, and fails.

pairings: tododeku

tags: fluff, humor

warnings: 

Marry The Mole by Haurvatat

summary: “You're going to break up with him before he can propose.”

The hands went down and the steel wall of Midoriya's entire being went up. “...Excuse me?”

“And in return-” Enji gritted his teeth, “-I will deposit 20 million yen in your checking account.”

-

The gay drama fic based on a tumblr post absolutely zero people wanted to see but YOU'RE GETTING ANYWAY

pairings: tododeku

tags: humor

warnings: 

ascended fanboy by aloneintherain

summary: “I want to honour them,” Izuku said softly. “When I cosplay, I just want people to see how amazing these heroes are.”

Shouto brushed a thumb over his cheek, careful not to smudge his makeup. “They do. I promise.”

Or: Izuku and Shouto attend HeroCon, five years post-graduation.

pairings: tododeku

tags: 

warnings: 

[albatmobile]

Head empty just Roy and jason being submissive while high with reader ehueheuhe

(Ignore this if you want)

definitely more of this prompt to come in the next chapter!

romance and return policies

next: [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] || ao3

𓅪 Rated: M | TW: weed | 1.7k includes: alternate universe no powers, modern au, eventual polyamory, eventual relationships, eventual smut, gamestop au

𓅪 established roy harper x koriand'r eventual: jason todd x reader, Roy Harper x reader, koriand'r x reader endgame: Jason Todd x reader x Roy Harper x koriand'r

It's not your fault you always want the latest games, exclusives and merch for the fandoms you're in. 

In your old town, certain GameStop’s had even banned you from trading due to how much you were in there, something you’d never understand. Other stores sneered at you for always buying up the good shit before the employees even had the chance to stake their claim on it.

Since moving nearly across the country, the new GameStop you’ve started going to definitely seems to be the most chill of the bunch.

It's a small, podunk town in Arizona, which means you never have to beat the lines like you had to in the hustle and bustle of the East Coast cities. The town's big enough to stay somewhat anonymous but small enough that if you visit a place once a week, by week three, everyone will know your social security number.

Needless to say, the GameStop workers know your car by now, as evidenced by the way Roy sees you pull in and attempts to snuff out whatever he’s been smoking.

You don't normally use their back parking lot, but the DMV next door is extra packed today and spilled over into the shared lot. You figure he’s been smoking a cigarette until you step out of your car and smell it.

“I’m telling,” is all you say. He flips you off easily.

Roy had always been overly welcoming and easy to joke with right off the bat, something you appreciated since you knew no one here.

“At this point, you may as well fucking work here. Your word would mean more than mine,” you laugh and make gimmie hands, which he goes to oblige easily, then stops. He regards you silently for a moment before looking around, then up at the security camera that he was just out of view of before finally holding out the joint to you. Fucking paranoid stoners, you can barely contain your eye roll. “Didn’t take you for the smoking type, darlin’.” 

“Considering you don’t know me, that seems about right,” he laughs easily at your prickly humor as you sidle up to him in the blindspot of the camera, blushing slightly when your fingers accidentally brush in the hand-off. “My ex was a huge stoner kinda formed a habit that I can’t even maintain.” 

“Money?” he winces only after the question comes out, seeming only then to realize it’s a bit of an invasive question for the circumstances. 

You’ve been coming to this GameStop at least twice a week, though almost always more, for the past few months since you moved to AZ. Whether it be to browse or trade- Roy, a redhead named Star and some brooding dick with a grey streak always seemed to be there (you’ve never seen him wear a name tag, but he seems to be the manager). Regardless, your relationship hardly seemed to go past customer service ever. That is, until now.

Roy doesn’t seem like the type to have a filter, so you know he means no offense. You can’t lie, though; seeing him all flustered is doing certain things to you.

You snap yourself from your thoughts. 

Roy has always been extra touchy-feely with the beautiful red-headed employee who always offers you kind smiles and excited opinions on your choices. However, she has a special affinity for plushies and always seems to push more on you. At this point, you could run a shelter for plushies with the way their cute dead eyes watched you from the growing pile on your bed.

Who are you to tell this seven-foot-tall goddess no?

“No,” you chuckle lightly as you inhale. “I never learned how to roll.” 

It's a lie. 

A total, complete lie, but you know one thing: men love to think they're teaching you something. Plus, if it means someone will roll you free weed, who are you to turn it down?

“Oh, babe. I’ve got you,” Roy’s silky voice stirs arousal within you as he pulls out the decrepit remains of a smartphone. Android or Apple, it’s too far gone to tell, but the screen still brightens when he bangs on the home button, so it couldn’t technically be considered completely trashed…

“Won’t your girlfriend be mad?” you ask, looking hesitantly at the sharded screen he was pushing your way.

“Kori?” Roy gestures to the store behind the two of you before waving off your concern. “Nah, she’s chill.” 

Kori, huh? She always wears a name tag that says Star, but you should’ve known it's just a nickname.

With all the basement creeps that come in and try to hit on you while you're here, you can’t imagine Kori’s position. Hell, you didn’t want to wear your name tag at the diner half the time if it wasn’t for Pam forcing you to ‘play nice.’

You raise a dubious brow, “I think you misunderstand my question: is Kori single?” 

He snorts easily, eyes crinkling around the scattered freckles on his face, “Fucking figures that I’d finally get your number and you’re more concerned with the redhead inside.” 

“Finally get it?”

The deep voice startles you as the ‘Employee Only’ door whips open to reveal skunkhead.

“Get what?” you ask with a tiny tilt of your head.

Name-tagless dude gestures down to Roy’s cracked screen, “We had a bet going on.” 

“Yeah, man. I got the number, but she wants the other babe,” sexy brooding skunk, fuck- you have to learn his actual name- laughs. “Also, stop spying on me during my break, fucking weirdo.”

“I’m your boss,” he grabs the joint from your fingers and takes a long drag. Your eyes remain wide while his close into green slits, taking you in with the smoke, closing his eyes with the exhale, “How else would I know you’re corrupting our best customer?”

“Corrupting!” Roy exclaims, gesturing to you as his eyes rip open. You immediately hold your hands up in surrender. “She came up to me! You know how the ladies get with this hair, Jay.”

Your face wrinkles in obvious disgust, “Is it too late to delete my contact?”

Roy huffs and yanks the blunt from ‘Jay’ and shoos him, “Jay, you’re ruining my shot, man.”

“Yeah, me,” Jay rolls his eyes and motions you in before retreating back inside. “What do you want?”

This time, you don’t contain your eye roll as you attempt to catch up to his quick pace. “What happened to the monotonous ‘Welcome to GameStop’ I used to get?”

“You’ve got half of my employees stockpiling the good shit for you. That’s what happened,” he glances at you over his shoulder, his usual emotionless eyes glinting with the slightest bit of amusement.

You don’t bother with a response as you follow him out of the elusive break room you’d seen them disappear to in the past.

“Not my fault you only have like four employees,” you shrug with a faux-innocence he sees right through. You’re cute, though, so he’ll let it slide.

“I have three employees and all of them would probably return this overdue shit for you without question,” he gives you an unimpressed look as he underlines the ‘return by’ date on your receipt and flips it around for you to see. “Two days, a bit irresponsible, no?” he exhales dramatically as he clicks obnoxiously around on the computer on the counter before shaking his head. “Don’t know if we can help even a loyal customer such as yourself in an incident like this.”

You don’t know Jay well enough to know if he’s joking or not, but before you can even respond, the bell chimes and welcomes in one of the other usual customers.

“You always come in on Tuesdays,” the man winks at you and starts toward the counter, but Jason shakes his head and points toward the door. “What? I didn’t do anything this time!”

“Buddy, we’ve already talked about you scaring off my customers.” 

“Three strikes doesn’t apply?” he disappears off between the shelves before coming toward the counter again with a box in hand. Once he’s back in sight, your eyes drop to the counter in front of you, wishing he would just leave you alone.

“Pretty sure you’re at your limit and,” he cuts off the man before he can interrupt. “I’m not going to argue with you about my own strike system, so kindly fuck off.” There’s nothing kind about the dark timber of Jay’s voice. The other man seems to think better of questioning the manager who makes the GameStop uniform look like a stripper outfit through his muscles alone.

“I just came here to get this, man.”

He drops the box on the counter and you recognize it as the new, limited-edition final season statue worth over $400. Jason seems to realize this, too and looks at you with a silent apology before quickly checking the man out and personally escorting him to the door after. 

“Just because you’re a big spender doesn’t mean you won’t be banned if you don’t start treating her, let alone any other woman, with some fucking respect.”

The look he gives the man is enough to send him scurrying out without so much as a glance back at you.

“Thanks,” you say quietly in the wake of silence that follows the door’s bell. The tinkling noise echoes around in your ears.

“Don’t thank me for shit like that,” his tone leaves no room for negotiation. You say nothing else as he processes the late return without question. 

As soon as he hands you your receipt, Jay walks you out to your car, holding the door open for you, all while making sure the man hasn’t lingered in the parking lot or anything. Luckily, it seems like Jay’s warning has sufficiently warded the creep off. He makes sure you’re completely in your car before shutting your door, then watches you peel out of the lot until your car is a mere fleck in his vision.

A/N: this was a spur of the moment fic i really had a craving for a gamestop au after i was forced to go in there to return some shit and was like o... i know what i need to do now, hence ^

let me know what you think and check out my pinned for my other content!

[next] || ao3 ||  pinned || my ko-fi / tip jar

[megs-mostly-past-random-fandoms]

Painting

Here’s another fic! My hope is to be able to open requests soon! *Familiar characters are NEVER mine!*

Fandom: TURN: Washington’s Spied

Warnings: Fluff. Me trying to write romance for Simcoe without making him OOC XD. Post show! It’s pretty long.

Pairings/Characters: John Graves Simcoe x fem!reader

From your place next to him, you reached over and gently began playing with John's fingers. Your eyes were trained on his hands. Those hands that could easily kill people but were so gentle with you. John's other hand tightened slightly on your hip in his sleep. You smiled to yourself as he began waking and your mind began wandering.

         During the war, you and your family had decided to relocate to Canada. It was safer there during the tumultuous years between America and the British. But it wasn't until Lt. Colonel John Graves Simcoe was given the office of lieutenant governor that you met him.  

         Your father was close with the British officers in Canada and was, of course, invited to the celebration of the new lieutenant governor. He brought you, your mother, and your siblings along. When you first met John, his stare had intimidated you. But there was something more behind those striking blue eyes that you couldn't quite place. You found yourself staring back at him, unable to tear your gaze away until your father brought your name up in his conversation.

         "Oh, I thoroughly agree. As the first lieutenant governor, Governor Simcoe should have his portrait painted," your father was saying to one of the many officials in attendance. John looked rather bored, but gave a tiny smile as your father continued, "My daughter, Y/N, is quite the painter. She has done portraits of everyone in the family and a few of the other officers here. I'm sure she would be honored." He looked at you, his eyes daring you to disagree.

         "O-Of course, Father. Though I am certain Governor Simcoe would rather commission a more experienced painter." Your gaze met John's again although this time, his looked a bit more interested. He hummed lightly. "Perhaps, if I were to see some of your work, I would be better informed to make a decision." He spoke to you as if you were the only person in the room. In truth, it terrified you to have his attention. He was so intense.

         "Yes. You must join us for supper tomorrow evening. You would be able to see Y/N's work then." Once again, your father spoke for you. That didn't bother you. You were used to it, but it did seem to bother John a bit. "Tell me, Miss Y/L/N, are you a selective mute?" Your brows furrowed and you shook your head. He gave you another smile before turning to your father. "I would appreciate if, in the future, you let your daughter speak for herself in my presence."

         Your father blinked in surprise. Clearly, he hadn't been expecting that. Even you could sense the threat behind the governor's words. "Of course. My apologies," your father stuttered out and you had to prevent yourself from smiling. It wasn't that you didn't love your father, but sometimes it was nice to see someone speak to him as if he weren't better than they were. John turned to you once more and you found yourself inviting the governor to dine with your family yourself.

         The next evening, after supper, your father shooed everyone from the room except one servant that acted as a chaperone so that John could discuss your work with you in private. He looked over the portraits you had in your family's parlor as well as some of your sketches and a painting you had been working on.

         "These are quite good, Miss Y/L/N. I would like to commission you to paint this portrait the officials so badly desire." You looked at him in confusion. "Thank you. I take it you aren't exactly keen on the idea of having your portrait painted?" He frowned a bit. "No, but one must do what one must." You smiled at him. "True, but why me then?"

         "You have talent, Miss Y/L/N. And, if I may be so forward, I would very much like the opportunity to see you again." You felt your face heat up and you cleared your throat. "Oh. Thank you, Governor." He smiled at you. "Shall we begin tomorrow then?" You nodded immediately. "Of course." He gave you a slight bow and bid you good evening.

         That was how it all began. The two of you sat for hours every day for weeks while you painted his portrait. As you painted, you talked to one another. At first, he sat stiffly, afraid to open up even a little, but that soon changed. He told you the truth about his past. He admitted the part he played in the war between America and the British. He admitted that he had done terrible things for what he thought was right. You had been shocked and somewhat horrified. But then, you remembered hearing about all the policies he was enacting as the lieutenant governor and softened. He wasn't the same man he was before.  

         You don't know when or how it happened, but over the time you spent together, you developed feelings for the man. Feelings that only grew stronger the closer you got to finishing the portrait. You found yourself becoming sad whenever you realized that there would soon be no need for the two of you to spend time together. It upset you a bit, truthfully. Especially as he had given no indication that he returned any feelings for you. Until the day came that you finished the painting, you were in the dark of the man's interest in you.

         "I've finished," you told him as you put your paintbrush down for the final time. John rose from the chair he'd been posed in and came around to look at the painting over your shoulder. He was so close you could practically feel the heat radiating off of him and yet, he wasn't close enough. You rose as gracefully as you could and moved away from him. He stared at the painting and said nothing. His eyes scanned your work, taking in everything.

         "You hate it," you said sadly when he still made no comment. His eyes met yours. "Quite the contrary. It is exquisite." You smiled a bit, but there was no mirth in it. John cocked his head to the side. "You are unhappy?" You were a little surprised. You didn't think he would be that in tune with your moods. "I, well…yes and no. I am please with the work I've done. It is one of my best, if I may say so."

         "Then why are you not pleased? I must confess, the minds of women confound me still." You let out a little giggle at that, prompting a smile to appear on his face. You took a deep breath and confessed, "I am unhappy because I shall now be deprived of your company. I must admit that I have come to enjoy our time together. Our hours together have been the happiest time of my day recently."

         John didn't reply at first and you had no clue what he was thinking. He schooled his features well. You waited rather impatiently for him to say something. You wanted to know what was going through his mind as he stared at you. With every second that passed, your heart broke a bit more. When you finally thought you might cry, John spoke.

         "I confess you surprised me. You've given no sign of this. I had hoped to approach the subject with you before I spoke to your father." You looked at him. "My father?" John smiled. "For permission to court you, of course. If that is something you wish." Your jaw dropped open in a very unladylike fashion.

         "Leave us," you told the servant. She opened her mouth to argue, but did what she was told when you gave her a pleading glance. Once she was gone, you turned back to John. "Do you mean that?" He nodded. "You will find I never say anything that I do not mean." You beamed up at him. "I would be honored to be courted by you, sir." He took a step closer to you, gently taking your chin between his thumb and forefinger. "Please, call me John."

"What are you thinking about so intently?" John's voice, still rough from sleep, asked. You tilted your head up to look at him with a smile. "How we met. How we ended up here." John's grip on your hip tightened even more. "Fond memories then?" You playfully rolled your eyes and sat up just enough to place a kiss to his lips. His hands traveled to your spine, holding you closer. "I love you, John," you mumbled against his lips. "And I adore you, my wife."

(a/n: I hope you like it!)

[runaway-train-works]

I'm happy to see you are possibly writing again, I love your fics! What WIPs do you have at the moment?

Oh Nonnie! This is so lovely, thank you! I’m really glad you enjoy my fics! 

I have had a lot going on this last year with pandemic fucking up my life in more ways than one, as well as suffering from a severe case of writer's block, so I’ve been annoyingly dabbling in lots of things but failing to actually get anything finished. However, I’m hoping the winds of change are finally going to give me a break and so I might actually complete something soonish!

In answer to your question about my WIPs, I fear you might regret asking this question because I have so many! I’ve had to put them under the cut but if you fancy reading more about them then you can check them out, and feel free to ask me any questions about any of them!

And All Because I’m Mad About The Boy

The 5th instalment of my Ad Au series. It’s going to be a long one I think, and will feature them going on their stag dos (bachelor parties) as well as a decent bit of angst! I’ve written the first section as well as some notes on later sections. 

Black Mirror

This is the fic I go on about but have never written more than the opening scene of. It’s kind of Black Mirror meets Total Recall - Harry goes to a company that downloads holiday experiences straight into your brain, and he has a holiday romance with ‘Louis’ A year later, he sees Louis in real life and it all unravels from there. 

Boxer ABO AU

Louis is a sassy omega who is quite snobby when it comes to ‘alpha thugs’ that box, but gets dragged along to a boxing event by Liam and meets boxer Harry. Harry asks him out, and Louis turns him down, however, he’s unreasonably miffed when Harry takes the turn down a little too well and precedes to do all the chasing, much to Harry’s amusement. 

Cursed Is The Fool Who’s Willing

My ABO fic I have already written 70K for. I need to get back to this, I’ve just come to a point where I’m so stuck with the plot that it’s a real struggle, even though I know how it’s going to end. Very frustrating, but I will finish this if it kills me. The general plot is Louis regularly offers himself up as an omega for alpha ruts, but has a strict no real names, no repeats policy. That is until he meets Harry who gets under his skin.

Dreams ABO

I actually wrote about 10k of this after my very first fic, but haven’t really returned to it. Harry is an alpha in his last year of high school, and Louis is a new omega who decides on his first day that Harry is his alpha and they’re meant to be together. Harry isn’t so sure. 

Gotta Blame It On My Juice

I started writing this for the ridic fic exchange but had to drop it and pinch-hit another fic at the time. I even have commissioned artwork for it! The prompt was ‘Louis is a registered sex therapist and he is pretty sure his new next-door neighbor, Harry, has a fetish for old women because he keeps having elderly women over and they always leave his house in a wheelchair (seriously where does he get all these wheelchairs?), turns out he's just a vampire who likes old lady blood the best (that is, until he tastes Louis) 

Grumpy Neighbour

This was meant to be a fest last year but never got it finished, based on Harry being Louis’ grumpy neighbour who Louis is pretty determined to win over, so when his shower breaks, he keeps going over to Harry and Niall’s flat to use theirs and walking around in just a towel. 

Harry/Troye

Haven’t got a title yet, but based on a Tik Tok of Troye’s where he gets flirted with by the receptionist when he’s getting his sexual health screening, 

Housesitter AU

I have a 4K outline of this and I’m pretty into the idea actually. Fake relationship AU based on the film with Goldie Hawn and Steve Martin but a few differences. Louis is high school hearts with Liam, and when he buys a house in the village they grew up as a surprise for them to live in, Liam tells him he’s actually been wanting to break up. Louis has a sort of rebound one night stand with Harry and tells him about the empty house. A few weeks later, he turns up to sell it to find Harry’s been living there and has told everyone he’s Louis’ fiancé as a cover. Cue a fake relationship to help mend Louis’ broken relationship with his parents as well as win Liam back by posing as the perfect husband material, but it doesn’t quite work out like that. 

I Was Just Tongue Tied

Gay disaster Harry meets Louis in a sushi restaurant and tells too many fish puns. 

If You Bring Your Blue Skies Back

Gay disaster Louis meets Harry on a plane and repeatedly embarrasses himself.

Let’s Get Into Physical

Liam meets Harry in a yoga class and is pretty oblivious to Harry’s advances. 

Lumberjack

I was writing this a while ago for a Christmas fest and wrote about 10K, but then other lumberjack fic came out and I gave it up. Based on writer Louis going to his usual remote Scottish getaway to finish his new book, but the new local maintenance/lumberjack type guy Harry is very good looking, very distracting and very NOT into Louis. 

Moments

Louis is a married man but goes to a gay speeding dating night with Liam for moral support but meets Harry and his world turns upside down. 

Pretences

My Big Bang from last year I never finished (sensing a theme yet?) Got to about 20k but it just got so big. I thought from my outline I had it all worked out but when I actually started writing it, it just seems like such a huge fic that I struggled. Based on Louis being a doppelgänger for the Prince and he’s asked to step in for the royal wedding day when the princess is getting married. Harry is the one that helps him through it all. 

Sad Songs Say So Much

Girl direction fic based on Louis knowing when Harry is upset because she always plays the same sad songs playlist so goes out her way to make her happy, and Harry has no idea. 

Sharry

Adore You/Lost In Japan canon fic about Harry and Shawn hooking up in Japan. 

Shiall

Fake Relationship AU based on Niall asking Shawn to go to a work dinner party as his fake boyfriend, but Shawn plays the role a little too well. 

This City’s Gonna Break My Heart

My Narry fic that I’ve been chipping away at, which is disgustingly overdue. Based on the song Heartbreak Weather, where Niall hooks up with Harry one night and it becomes a casual thing but Niall’s more into it than he would like to admit. 

Wouldn’t It Be Lovely

Based on My Fair Lady, Harry is an art curator that must turn Louis into a ‘respectable artist’ rather than the tracksuit wearing chav he is. I kind of gave up when I realised that it wasn’t the nicest storyline and Harry would have to be an insufferable dick for most of the fic. 

[baekhypnotized]

☆— [one]

summary: Baekhyun is just a man who doesn’t believe in romance as much as Byul, who is trying to give herself to him. But day by day, he will soon realize that her fleeting actions are breaking down his cold-hearted brick wall, no matter if it takes her a million years.

warning(s): -

word count: 2.7k+

author’s note: first chapter is finally up!! feedback is much appreciated so please leave your thoughts regarding this fic!! to anyone who would like to be tagged in the next chapter, please let me know too :) 

tag list: @baestelcolor​ 

[next]>>

Today marks three months since I moved to an affordable studio apartment in Seoul. With an agreement, my mom agrees to let me further my studies in Seoul on one condition, she can only give a limited amount of monthly allowance for me. It doesn’t really matter to me because I have been planning to find a part-time job in a cafe or a flower shop to pay for rent and my college fees. Trying to find a job in a city where only experienced people will be prioritized is quite a struggle considering my lack of experience but I am grateful to be able to land a job in a small cafe near my university. I will be working in shifts to fit my class schedule and the weekends.

Since it's the weekend and some of the workers are taking their leaves, I take this opportunity to take over their shifts for extra wages. This is the only effort that I can do for my own living. Next week will be super hectic with orientation week as a post-graduate student. I’m feeling a little nervous about it that I can feel the shiver down my spine. I wake up early in the morning, prepare a simple toast for breakfast and get into my work outfit. Styling my hair with a messy bun, I apply lip tint on my lips to make me look alive for today. 

The walk to the nearest train station is about 10 minutes from my apartment and since it’s still early, the amount of people on the train is less than I imagine. Maybe, most of them are still tucked in bed and enjoying their weekend with beloved ones. But here I am, working on a Sunday when tomorrow is my first day as a Master student. The view of the Sunrise, lighting up the panorama of Seoul with her gleaming rays, reflecting beautifully on the blue water of the Han River is endearing to me. The beauty of Seoul will always catch people’s attention, including me and that’s the reason why I decided to continue my studies in my own hometown. It feels good to be back in Korea after living in New Orleans for years with a new family for so long. 

When I arrived there, the cafe is already open as I guess, Senior Hana arrived earlier. I greet her politely and she instructs me what to for today. An hour left before the cafe’s starts to open, cleaning the place up would be a good idea somehow. Dahyun will be here any minute now because she’s responsible to display the cakes and appetizers at the display counter. I rearrange the tables and chairs accordingly, sweep the floor and finish it up by mopping the floor. 

The first bell chimes make me turns around, noticing that Dahyun has finally arrived. 

"Morning, Byul!” She greets with a loud yawn.

I pause for a moment from cleaning the cashier counter to look at Dahyun, with a smile stretched. “Morning, Dahyun.”

She leaves me alone to set up the desserts by the display counter as I go back to the staff room and grabbing my black apron as I wear it, completing it with my nametag pinned on the apron. There are approximately 15 minutes left before we open for today’s business and I just hope my first day at the cafe goes well considering we’ll be getting a lot more customers on a Sunday.

"I’m done arranging them! Finally!” Dahyun huffs a loud sigh before she plops down on a small chair. I give her a thumbs up, rewarding her for her hard work. Dahyun stands back on her feet, walking towards the staff room to prepare herself. “I think we can start for today, Byul.”

"Are you ready?” I confirm it back to her, waiting for her reply. 

"Yes, I’m ready. I’ll be back and you can unlock the main door already.”

I comply with her commands, go straight to the main door and unlocks it, and then turning the ‘closed’ sign to ‘open��. Waiting for customers to enter the cafe behind the cash register counter, I hum to random songs while figuring out what outfit should I be wearing on the first day of university tomorrow. I’m feeling quite edgy and anxious but I pray that everything will be fine.

A tinkling sound comes from the wind chime that my boss hung at the door, alerting the staff of new customers. My first customer for today is a he. The heels of his expensive shoes makes a clear, nice sound against the wooden floorboards. He enters the café. His hair is combed perfectly and parted in the middle, looking so sleek in his black suit. As he comes closer towards me, I can clearly see a few cute little moles on his face. 

This man in front of me greets me with a smile that manages to make my heart beats loudly, my cheeks redden into a rosy pink color. I let out a small cough to control myself as I plaster a polite smile to him.

"Good morning, sir! Do you have anything in mind?”

The guy scans through the menu board, taking his time to order.

"I’ll have one cup of latte and a waffle with honey on top.” He asks with a firm voice, unknowingly making me feel nervous. 

I key in his order into the system one by one without leaving anything. “That will be $15.65, sir.”

He digs into his pocket and hands in a 50-dollar bill. “Keep the change.”

"But sir… It’s my responsibility to return your change back. It’s a business policy…” I stutter while explaining to him, hoping for him to understand my current situation since I don’t want to risk breaking a rule or worse, get fired from this only part-time job that I have. 

The guy is busy staring at me in amusement when I’m trying to be a good and innocent staff that wouldn't have done any wrongs. He gives me a contemplating ‘hmm’ before he complies. “Listen here,” He reads my name tag, “-Hanbyul. Let’s just say I treat your next upcoming customers. How does that sound?” He smirks slyly before taking a seat by the window, playing with his smartphone to kill time while waiting for his orders. I baffle when he just left without giving me an answer. I sigh and keep the dollar bill into the cashier and start brewing his hot latte and baking the waffle.

Dahyun comes back to the front and she is surprised with the early customer that we got. “Woah, what the heck is he doing so early in the morning? It’s only 8 in the morning!”

She nudges me with her elbow but I refuse to answer her because I am busy with my work. But, she’s right though. How on Earth does a guy wake up so early in the morning looking so handsome like this guy?! And it is the weekend for God’s sake!

Once I finish up preparing his orders, I bring the tray to him instead of calling him because he’s the only customer in the café.

"Sir,” I greet him while serving the hot latte and the waffle on the table, “your orders are here. Hope you enjoy it!” I beam brightly and bow 90 degrees as respect. The guy was busy scrolling his phone as I leave him behind. 

"Hanbyul.” My name was called by his husky voice, making me stop in my tracks, turning around to face him.

"May I help you with anything, sir?” I question him as he starts to take a sip on the latte. He starts to make weird faces and I assume there’s something wrong with the latte. 

"Is there anything wrong with the latte, sir?” I ask worriedly.

He shakes his head before the frown on his lips stretched into a grin. I am taken aback but I sigh in relief, knowing that I didn’t do any mistake that might risk me my position.

"It surely tastes sweeter today,” he says with a hum, taking another sip. “Yeah, definitely sweeter than yesterday. Probably because it was prepared by a sweet girl.” His eyes sparkle with a glint of something unfamiliar as he gazes at me. The intensity of his gaze is making me feel so, so warm that I’m sure he notices my whole face reddening in front of him.

What an odd day. 

On the first day of class, I wake up earlier so I don’t have to rush. It’s going to be a challenging day because I’m going to meet new people for me to get along with throughout these two years except for Soomin. Thank God we’re decided to continue our study and graduate together like we used to. Living in the same house with her and now enrolling in the same class. Again. But, I will never get bored with her or maybe I would, one day. 

"Wake up, Soomin. We’re going to be late for our first class.” I shake her shoulders violently because she is a heavy sleeper and waking her up softly will be fruitless. However, Soomin with her eyes still shut tightly doesn’t budge even as I raise my voice an octave higher, simply humming before going back to sleep.

I rake my head for ways to wake her up. After a few long seconds of thinking, an idea came into my mind and I can only hope for it to work. I lift her thick duvet from her body and push her off from the bed, letting her body fall to the floor with a thud.

Ouch!” Soomin sits up with her hand rubbing her back as she tries to glare at me with her half-lidded eyes.

"Breakfast is ready so please, go and take your bath quickly,” I order her as I’m busy folding the duvet before placing it nicely on her bed.  She fumes in anger, holding her tongue from cursing to me early in the morning. Stomping her feet on her way to the bathroom, she expresses her irritation towards me with a powerful slam at the door. 

I only let out a giggle because her tantrums are not foreign to me, I’ve known her for years, a childish yet a good friend that I would rather stick to even if it takes years to unglue her from me. The only person who understands her annoyingness is her family, me and Sehun. The three of us are best friends since high school and I’m grateful that Sehun loves her a lot by making her the only girl he would have after his mother and older sister. I couldn’t imagine an unfamiliar guy coming into her life and claim her love without deeply knowing her. 

And that’s not what love is about. 

Heading back to the kitchen to prepare peach tea for us, I remember the encounter I had with the guy at the cafe yesterday. The way his deep voice calling my name made me feel butterflies in my stomach and I somehow wish for him to drop by the cafe again, just so I can admire his good looks again.

"What took you so long to stir the tea?” Soomin says as she passes by me. “And ew! Is that drool?! Byul, I don’t want drool infested tea so early in the morning.”

Soomin’s voice knocks me off to reality as she was standing by the fridge for a few minutes.

"Gosh, can you please don’t hurt my poor heart like that?” I say with a soft tone and she smirks, pulling a chair to sit by the island table. She takes one french toast and take a single bite, staring at me curiously. “What are you thinking of?”

"Nothing,” I say while grabbing clean cups from the cupboard. I place them on the table and pour the peach tea before handing one to Soomin. She thanked me before taking the cup from me, blowing on the surface a little to cool it down before taking a sip. Soomin scoffs. “You never hide secrets from me.”

"How did you know that I really told you everything?” I say, successfully turning her into a furious woman as she grabs the toast, ready to throw it to me. “Okay geez. I’m kidding.”

She brings the toast for a bite but continues to give me a death glare. I chuckle silently and sip my tea, glancing at the clock hanging by the wall. It’s already 8:25 in the morning but both of us are still busy having our breakfast.

"We’re going to be late!” I hurriedly gulp down the tea and put the empty cup in the sink. Rushing to pack my stuff and making sure that I don’t leave anything important at home, I prepare myself for the last time in front of the standing mirror. Light makeup added nicely with a shade of pink blusher and the nude colour of lip matte; I’m good to go. 

"Come on, Kim Soomin!” 

She groans loudly to take her car keys as we leave the apartment. Crossing my fingers and calming my nerves, I stare at the outside scenery by the car window. How the fluffy clouds hang beautifully by the blue azure sky, following the Sun shining brightly. Everything will be fine, Byul. 

We arrive 10 minutes early before the class starts. As Soomin and I settle down in the big lecture hall, I observe the seats around me. It’s already occupied with people who are taking the same course; Master in Business Administration. All of them are unfamiliar faces to me.

"Good morning, Byul.” Sehun greets me. I smile at him back before he takes a seat beside Soomin, leaving a peck on her temple. 

"Good morning, baby.” He greets her this time with adoration but Soomin only hum as a reply. Sehun looks at me curiously when I could only shake my head and shrug my shoulders to his wordless question. “Tell me who ruined your morning, Soomin.” 

Soomin quickly points her index finger to me that makes me lift both of my hands in the air, defending myself. “I only pushed her off the bed. It wasn’t that bad.” I grin as I confess. She dilates her eyes and starts pinching on my arms, causing me to groan at the slightest pain.  “Okay! Okay, enough! It stings!”

Sehun can only chortles while watching this normal catfight between us. I am only able to stop her off by pushing her away. I brush my already wrinkled blouse, thanks to her. I roll my eyes and divert my attention to the front. One by one people enter the hall up until an aged woman comes in with a rattan tote bag and I guess she’s our lecture for the financial management class. 

"Hello and good morning everyone! My name is Lee Kyungmi but please call me Mdm. Lee,” she greets the whole class with a firm voice.

The whole class replies in unison with a loud ‘yes’ to her greeting. She then decides to begin our first class with ice-breaking session even though in my opinion, it is very lame for university students. But, I’m glad she didn’t jump directly into the syllabus in our first class.

We are separated into a few groups where I finally get to detach myself from my best friends and sit in a circle that is full of unfamiliar faces strangers. We begin to exchange our names within the group. Being around people whom I’ve never met is making me feel a little more confident. When it is my turn, I start to introduce myself, “The name given is Kim Hanbyul, but I prefer being called Byul.” I plaster a smile to them. After about 10 minutes, we head back to our seats and Mdm. Lee decides to start the class with the first topic. 

I take out my notebook and pencil case from my bag, ready to jot down notes that will be displayed on the white screen from the projector. But before Mdm. Lee gets to continue her words, a single clear knock is heard from the door. She then calls the intruder to come in. I don’t pay attention to the intruder as I am focused on my notebook.

"Late for your first class, Mr. Byun?” She takes off her glasses to look at him as the person goes straight to an empty seat. I lift my head up to focus back on the screen, gasping softly when my eyes accidentally landed on him.

It’s him. The 50-dollar bill guy with the same dashing look from the cafe. 

[mrsbhandari]

Shutter - Part 2

a/n: HI it me!! i don’t really have much to say lmao, but i hope you like it!! also the cover of vogue looks like this, by the lovely @lxdy-starfury, and is like the entire inspiration behind this fic so yee!

warnings: some language but that’s really it

words: 2k

tags: @lxdy-starfury, @huntress1024, @anotherbeingsworld, @brightpinkpeppercorn, @chaotic-ramsay-queen

#

“Can you believe I got his number?” 

“You what?”

“We talked a little bit after the shoot.” Nia guiltily fidgeted with her tea cup, her ring making small clicks against the porcelain. 

“Okay, talking is very much different from getting his number. You have a billionaire’s phone number.” Incredulous, Naexi sat back in the plush seat of the book store lounge area, shaking her head. “So now what? Is he gonna be your sugar daddy?”

“What?! No!” Nia blushed furiously. “I don’t like him...that way.”

“Sure. And I didn’t just get credited with the cover of Vogue.”

“Congratulations, by the way.” Nia tried to change the subject, which Naexi picked up on and allowed. Nia grabbed the latest issue of Vogue off the table in front of them, admiring the glossy cover of Tyril with his hair in a messy ponytail and a somber look behind his glasses. “He was...unexpected, though?” 

“What do you mean?”

“I expected him to be like all of those aloof and distant love interests in romance novels.”

“And how did he seem to you?”

“He was really sweet! Super warm, like you could just talk to him all day about everything and he would totally understand.” Naexi hummed, looking down into her coffee. “What? How did he seem to you?”

“I’m...not sure.” She shook her head and looked back up to her friend, giving an easy smile. “He felt nice enough, but I totally bet it’s all some act. He’s definitely a vampire.”

“At least he’s attractive.” 

Naexi sent a glance down to the magazine. “Maybe.”

#

“So what I’m getting from this is...you’re in love?” 

“That’s absurd! I am in nothing of the sort.” Tyril sat straight up in his chair, which was a direct contrast to Mal, whose feet were spread as he lounged lazily in the wire seat. Despite the cold, they sat in the outside seating section of a small cafe, right near small space heaters set up by the table. “I never said anything about even liking the woman--”

“Alright, alright, chill out. I was only joking, but it sure seems like I might’ve been right.” Mal sent a smug smile over the table and raised an eyebrow. 

“What are you talking about?” 

“Dude, you want to impress her? You want her approval? You noticed the smell of her lotion? I diagnose you with love, bud.” He crossed his arms and briefly glanced towards his bike that was parked across the street; a car seemed to be driving kind of close to it. When he returned his gaze to Tyril, his friend was pensively staring at the half-eaten pastry on his plate and chewing on his nail. Reaching across the table, Mal plucked Tyril’s hand out of his mouth and held it on the table top to get him to stop. “It’s not a bad thing.”

“I don’t have time for it, though. That’s the problem.”

“C’mon, Ty. We both know that’s bullshit. You’re into her, but you’re afraid of getting hurt and don’t want to take a risk.” Mal squeezed his friend’s hand. “I agree that what happened with Kaya sucked, but you have to be willing to step back out on the edge to see the view, even if you might fall.”

“Poetry is supposed to be my thing, Volari.” 

“What, I’m not allowed to be romantic?” He batted his eyelashes and placed a hand under his chin, prompting a small smile from Tyril. 

“Not with that haircut, you’re not.”

“Hey!” 

#

“Um…” Naexi cautiously eyed the large vase of flowers on her desk, tapping her coworker Belana on the shoulder before approaching the tulips. “What is this? Who delivered these?”

“Well, they look a lot like tulips and a delivery guy just came with them about ten minutes ago. Who’s the admirer?” Belana wiggled her eyebrows, laughing when Naexi shoved her shoulder. 

“As if I know.” She set her bag down and dug through the jungle of vibrant red to find a small card. The gold inscription read “When I’m around you, I lose my focus,” paired with a tiny drawing of camera in simple black ink. It wasn’t signed. 

“Well?”

“I have no clue what to make of it.” She handed the card to Belana, who burst out laughing at the joke. 

“That’s a good one! Because you’re a photographer!” 

“No, stop, please. My stomach hurts from laughing so hard.” Snatching the card back, she read it again before pushing the vase to a miraculously unoccupied corner of her desk and placing the card in one of her frames, the one housing the picture of Nia and her on a work trip in Paris. Nia was a bookkeeper at a small bookstore, but she abused the hell out of Vogue’s plus one policy on trips. She grabbed her phone and found Nia’s text conversation quickly, typing out a short message asking about the flowers.

NIA: that’s so weird! I have no clue who could have sent them.

#

Nia definitely had a clue who could have sent them. She had so much of a clue, in fact, that she scrolled down to her conversation with Tyril, the exact person who sent them. 

NIA ELLARIOUS: She got them! And she doesn’t know who sent them.

TYRIL STARFURY: Did she like them?

NIA ELLARIOUS: Hm, I’m not sure. She didn’t say anything about them, just that she wasn’t sure who they were from. We’re having lunch today, I can ask her then.

TYRIL STARFURY : I can’t thank you enough! I hope this isn’t awkward, being somewhat of a spy for your friend. 

NIA ELLARIOUS: Of course not! I think it’s incredibly sweet what you’re doing.

TYRIL STARFURY: Thank you, I’m very nervous about it working. 

NIA ELLARIOUS: Don’t be! It will all work out, I can promise you that. 

TYRIL STARFURY: Thank you.

Nia slipped her phone into an apron pocket and went back to humming as she dusted the shelves. 

#

“I’ve probably gained twenty pounds since you’ve started working here. These pastries are to die for,” Naexi moaned as she bit into her chocolate croissant, savoring the flakiness of the breading that practically melted in her mouth. 

“Me, too,” Nia sighed, nervously fidgeting with her apron. 

“What’s got you all nervous?”

“Hm? Oh, nothing!” She offered a shaky smile, which did nothing to squash Naexi’s suspicions. 

“So we’re lying to each other now?” 

“No, of course not!” Nia struggled to come up with a believable lie that could easily segue into talking about the flowers. “I’m just still trying to think who would’ve sent you flowers today. Very odd.”

“To be honest, I kind of forgot about them.”

“Really?!” Nia set down her teacup before she had the chance to drop it. “I know if someone sent me flowers, I would be thinking about it for the rest of the day.” Naexi hummed. “What?”

“Now that I’m thinking about it again, it is kind of weird. I haven’t been dating in a while, so who could’ve done it? And obviously they were sent by someone who barely knows me, because the joke was….not my style.” 

Smirking, Nia spoke before she could stop herself. “Maybe that’s why you’re so cranky. You need to put yourself out there more.” 

After a small moment of silence seemed to be occupied by Naexi’s thoughts, she waved her hands. “I think not. No significant other is going to keep me from being my grouchy self. Sorry to disappoint.”

Nia threw her arm around her friend’s shoulder. “I’d never want you to change.” For the rest of her lunch break, the two girls sat and talked while watching people pass outside the window of the store. As soon as Naexi left, Nia eagerly fished out her phone and found Tyril’s text conversation.

#

“I shouldn’t have gone with that inscription.” Tyril was pacing back and forth in his office between where Imtura sat in one chair and Mal sat in another. He was chewing on his nail again, and Mal stood to take his hand away again. He sat back down in his chair with a firm grip on Tyril’s hand, limiting the length of the billionaire’s pacing while still not stopping it. 

“Will you stop panicking? I’m sure the girl loved it,” Imtura reassured, barely looking up from her phone. “It was a pretty funny joke.”

“But what if she doesn’t like jokes?!” Tyril exclaimed, running a hand through his hair and pulling some pieces out of its tidy half-up do. 

“Ty!” Mal stood and grabbed his friend’s other hand, forcing him to stop and look at him. “I’ve never seen you like this. C’mon, talk to me.” 

“I’ve just never done something like this. Flirting and relationships and what have you....It’s all foreign to me. I want to make sure it’s perfect.” He jumped as his phone went off in his pocket.

NIA ELLARIOUS: She still doesn’t have any idea who sent the flowers, but she doesn’t really like puns. Especially about her job. 

TYRIL STARFURY: That is...most unfortunate. Thank you so much for your help.

NIA ELLARIOUS: Would you like to come by the shop and have lunch with me on Thursday?

He looked at the date; It was Tuesday.

TYRIL STARFURY: I would love to. 

NIA ELLARIOUS: See you then!

“I knew I shouldn’t have gone with your idea, Mal.” 

“She didn’t like the joke? Sounds like this girl’s a real snooze, if you ask me.”

“Good thing he’s not,” Imtura joked, dodging a punch from Mal. 

“Well, Nia invited me to lunch with her on Thursday--” He was cut off by his phone ringing, his father’s contact flashing on the screen. “Pardon. Hello, Father?”

“Tyril, I hope you are doing well.”

“You as well, Father. To what do I owe the pleasure of your call?” In his seat, Mal cringed at the formalities. 

“I’ve sent the information to your email, but I wanted to remind you directly about a charity gala I’m hosting next week, for the company.”

Mal rolled his eyes, but Tyril snapped his fingers and gave him a stern look, akin to a mother scolding a child. “Yes, of course.”

“Your sister has a date, so I would have to ask you to bring one as well. It would look good for the company.” Tyril opened his mouth to speak, but his father beat him to it. “Mal is already invited as a high ranking member of the company, therefore he cannot count as your plus one.” 

“Yes, sir. I will find a date for your gala.” 

“Thank you, Tyril. Goodbye.”

“Good bye.” Tyril continued to look at the phone, even after his father hung up.

“Well.” Clapping his hands together, Mal stood up and sighed, placing his hands on his hips and swiveling his body to crack his back. “He’s even more of a snooze than the girl.”

#

“Are you kidding me? Again?!” Naexi exclaimed, throwing her bag down on her chair since her desk was occupied by yet another large vase of flowers, this time peach dahlias. “Who is doing this?” Belana peeked over to her coworker’s desk, whistling at the sight of the large collection of flowers. 

“Damn! Wait, what logo is on the card?” Naexi fished the card out. 

“It says it’s from a place called Loola’s.” While Belana typed something into her laptop, Naexi read the card aloud. “‘For a woman with a unique view of the world and the means to capture it.’”

“Holy shit!”

“I don’t think it’s that good, but I--”

“Not that. I looked up a bouquet of peach dahlias from Loola’s and it looks like that one cost about a hundred and ten bucks.” 

Naexi blinked. “It still isn’t signed. I don’t…” she trailed off, looking again at the bouquet before whipping out her phone and texting Nia. 

NIA: Wow, another one?

NAEXI: Yeah! Belana says it cost 100$

Despite knowing who sent it, Nia’s eyes still widened at her phone. 

NIA: Seriously?! Any idea who it’s from yet?

NAEXI: Nope.

NIA: We can brainstorm tomorrow over lunch.

[earnestly-endlessly]

what about your favourite cherik fics of all time? (:

Dear anon, I am so sorry for the delay. I’ve been meaning to put this list for about a week now, but I feel as if I’m missing some fics. Most of these are fandom favourites and might not come as any surprise, but these are my all time favourite fics that I’ve probably read more than once and more than twice. I tried to keep a wide variety of fics, including both one-shots and multi-chapters as well as different genres. I hope you enjoy these fics as much as I do.

Earnestly-endlessly’s Favourite Cherik Fics 

***********************************************

Anarchy in the U.K. – Yahtzee

Summary: “Good God, Erik thought. The Prince of Wales is gay.”

Charles lives in the unceasing glare of the public spotlight, yet keeps his sexual orientation a closely held secret, afraid he could lose his throne and force his deeply troubled younger sister into a role that would crush her. Erik, journalist and world traveler, has been a loner most of his life; he has little patience for closet cases. But a chance meeting in Kenya brings these two opposites together and sets in motion a love affair that will challenge the British monarchy – and their most deeply held beliefs about who they are, and who they should be.

Continuing Education – aesc and spicedpiano

Summary: To his students, Erik Lehnsherr is despotic and terrifying. To his department head, he’s the brilliant young researcher who abandoned his prestigious job overnight, moving across the country to join MIT’s faculty. But to Charles Xavier, he is a contradiction. As Erik and Charles settle into their new roles as colleagues, their professional rivalry starts to spill over into the personal.

The Sonnet Series – afrocurl, nekosmuse

Summary: Erik Lehnsherr is a visiting professor at Columbia University, as well as an acclaimed and award winning poet. Charles Xavier is a lead researcher with the Genetics Department who is well on his way to tenure. But what happens when Charles has to cancel a class because half his students abandon him in favour of a mysterious new English Lit professor? Naturally he ends up sitting in in the class, where Professor Lehnsherr mistakes him for a student. It’s really too bad Erik has such a strict policy against dating students. It’s also too bad Erik doesn’t seem to know how to use Google.

Bifurcation – spicedpiano

Summary: Bifurcation - (n.) the splitting of a main body into two parts.

In medicine, a single mistake can mean the difference between life and death.

For cardiothoracic surgeon Charles Xavier, a fatal error leaves him standing at a crossroads … and at the mercy of the man he has not faced since their relationship fell apart thirteen months ago.

Dr. Erik Lehnsherr has a fearsome reputation. Due to his incisive autopsy reports, he has gotten more surgeons fired in two years than any other pathologist has managed over an entire career. But when an old enemy returns to Erik’s life, he must find a way to temper his pride – or lose the man he loves, all over again.

Runs in the Family – Anonysquirrel (chibrisuchan)

Summary: In which mpreg!Charles Bakes All The Things, overprotective!Erik calls his small round tea-drinking husband “Vati’s little teapot”, Tony Stark/Bad Ideas is Stark Industries’ most profitable OTP, and Alex and Steve are somehow along for the ride. And the cookies.

For the Record – endingthemes

Summary: As prominent figures in the mutant rights movement, activists Charles Xavier and Erik Lehnsherr are pretty much household names. When a romance scandal between them breaks, their celebrity reaches new heights, and though the increased exposure is great, there’s a big problem – the two of them are just friends.

Too bad no one believes them.

Rumor Mill – Ikeracity

Summary: Erik is the grumpiest, most foul tempered worker at Stark industries. His grumpiness is the stuff of legends. So it’s obviously the talk of the office when Erik is being made to go to the company party and he’s bringing his husband. There’s rumors flying round about how much of a masochist or equally antisocial bastard Erik’s husband must be to put up with him. Others think he must be a meek mouse perhaps bullied by Erik.

What they weren’t expecting was the confident, charming, adorable and unbelievably nice Charles that turns up on Erik’s arm. What they certainly weren’t expecting was how much Erik obviously adores his husband and how happy he is to let others see this.

Into Your Tar, Honey – tomato_greens

Summary: Really, Alex doesn’t know why he’s in the damn class. (Or, the one in which Charles teaches an online Introduction to Biology course, and Alex reads more than he expected to.)

If You Like The Book, You’ll Hate the Movie – paperclipbitch

Summary: Modern-Day High School AU. It’s not until Hank realises half the class are glancing towards the back of the classroom with something like nerves and something like schadenfreude that he finds out Alex Summers is back.

The boy with the heart on his sleeve – euphorbic

Summary: Charles loses a high-stakes bet to Raven and is required to get a tattoo. However, when he makes a disparaging remark about the art form, Raven’s acerbic mentor, Erik, steps in.

Or, the one where Erik and Raven are tattoo artists.

Enigma – Yahtzee

Summary: Written for the following prompt: Erik dies, or finds a reversey-time mutant, or a magical time travelling device, and wakes up in the past. This time, though, it’s before he ever met Charles - in fact, it’s before his mother died.

He can save his mother that one time (thanks to his mastery over powers carrying back), but what does Erik do after that? Does he stick around, or escape and run to find Charles again (and hope everything doesn’t go wrong)?

Mutually Beneficial Transaction – Pookaseraph

Summary: In his sophomore year at Columbia University, Erik, feeling slowly strangled by his mounting college debt, places an add on a sugar daddies website. He doesn’t know exactly what to expect from it, but when he’s contacted by a man named Charles who seems less creepy than the other people who have responded to his profile, he decides to give it a shot. Charles is nothing like what he expected, and Erik finds himself slowly falling in love with his sugar daddy while trying to find out exactly what caused this amazing guy to buy his emotional and sexual intimacy when he clearly deserves so much more than that.

Food, Family, and Friends with Benefits – endingthemes

Summary: “Everyone,” Edie says, voice bursting with pride. “Erik’s here, and he’s brought his friend.” She takes Charles’ arm and pulls him forward, presenting him like a shiny object. “This is Charles.”

Charles manages a weak wave and an even weaker, “Hello.”

(In which Charles gets dragged along to his fuck buddy’s parent’s house to celebrate a Jewish holiday, and things get weird.)

In Plain Sight – arcapelago (arcanewinter)

Summary: A story where Charles and Erik have basically been together from the first time they met. The whole fate, wow we found each other thing. Now I would like the others not to know and try to bring the two 'oblivious' guys together. They of course enjoy this quite a lot 

Limited Release – rageprufrock

Summary: When Alex Summers broke out of supermax to rescue his stupid kid brother, he had no idea it was going to be so fucking complicated.

Daycare Verse – brilligspoons, pocky_slash

Summary: A modern AU in which Charles runs a mutant daycare and Erik is his long-suffering engineer boyfriend.

Marrying a Mob – Ook

Summary: Charles is a teacher at a very exclusive school. When armed men burst in on the trail of two children, of course he stands up to them and gets hurt. The children are Erik Lehnsherr's children (of course); a "prominent businessman" or, less politely, "mobster". Erik is grateful to Charles for saving his children's lives at the cost of his kneecap. So very grateful.Naturally he tries to reward Charles for his actions. Equally naturally, Charles will be having none of that.Azazel finds the whole thing unspeakably hilarious. Naturally.

Chessmen (XMFC/Inception fusion AU) – kaydeefalls

Boden’s Mate: “Shaw has information that we need, and we need him alive to extract it,” Moira says, and there it is: the job is on the table. Extraction.

XMFC/Inception fusion AU. Erik is an extractor, Alex is his point man. They’re assembling a team to go after the most dangerous mind in dreamsharing: Sebastian Shaw. But unless Alex and the team can keep him in check, Erik’s desire for vengeance might just rip the whole job apart around them – and then there’s the shade that haunts his dreams…

Queen’s Gambit: “My name is Nick Fury,” he tells Raven. “And I’m here to talk to you about Cain Marko.”

XMFC/Inception fusion, sequel to Boden’s Mate. Raven’s running her own extractions these days, but the job S.H.I.E.L.D.’s dumped in her lap is a real shitshow. Two marks, two simultaneous dreams, eleven dreamers, and a hell of a lot of baggage. Time to call in a few favors – and did she mention the job involves inception?

Tabula Rasa – kaydeefalls

Summary: Five ways Erik might have first met Charles.

Humane Society – smilebackwards

Summary: Once Erik finally allows himself to decide that Charles is pretty much the best thing since sliced bread, he spends the next week being incredibly bitter that he’s Charles’ cat and not his boyfriend.

Idiot Control Now – cygnaut

Summary: Hank screws something up in the lab and everyone’s powers increase tenfold. Not knowing how to control them like this, they all try to cope and not kill each other by mistake while Hank tries to find a way to reverse the effects. Charles has a particularly hard time of it.

White Nights – spicedpiano, tahariel

Summary: Duke Erik Lehnsherr of Ironhold needs an omega to carry on his line, and Earl Charles Xavier of Westchester needs an alpha to give him the political leverage he needs in order to make his sister Queen. An arranged marriage brings them together, but Erik’s lust for war and Charles’ hidden agenda threaten to tear them apart. In the frozen Northlands of Ironhold life is hard and cold, and both Charles and Erik must give up their pretense and see each other as they really are: perfect for each other, if only they’ll acknowledge it.

Nation Building and other Diplomatic Negotiations – Pookaseraph

Summary: With the recent passage of a submissive registration law in the United Kingdom, there are now only two industrialized nation with a relatively stable government to have neither a mutant nor a submissive registration law. Erik Lehnsherr, the newly minted King of Genosha, and his Prime Minister Emma Frost intend to take advantage of this turn of events to bring the Xavier Institute to the island nation of Genosha. They both know bringing Charles Xavier, the noted activist of mutant and submissive rights, to the island will necessarily politicize the man, and create all manner of complications. With a constitution not yet finalized and external threats to Genoshan security all around them, Erik, Emma, and Charles will fight for what they believe in to shape Genosha into what it should be.

A Genosha AU with moderate D/s elements.

Politico – cygnaut

Summary: Modern Genosha Politics AU. In which Erik is l'enfant terrible of the mutant National Assembly, and his staff just wants to get him laid.

The Courtship – dvs

Summary: A story about a courtship that began five hundred years ago.

This Family comes with Batteries – Fishwrites, lynneh

Summary: A orphaned Charles Xavier goes to live with his Godfather: Tony Stark. This story is a tale of what would have happened to the events of MCU, if Tony was raising a six year old telepath in Stark Tower. There is also the matter of Charles’ robot AI manny/bodyguard/tutor/only-friend, David.

Space Oddity – MonstrousRegiment, Pangea

Space Jam: Prince Charles Xavier is Deputy Commander of the TEF Heartsteel and the newest mission they’ve been assigned starts out less than desirable and quickly goes downhill from there. It’s alright, though, he’ll cope.

It doesn’t help, though, that he’s in unrequited love with his best friend and Commander of the Heartsteel, War-Prince Erik Lehnsherr.

Jupiter Jazz: Prince Charles Xavier is still Deputy Commander of the TEF Heartsteel and life has been great ever since he and his best friend and Commander of the Heartsteel, War-Prince Erik Lehnsherr, finally got all of their feelings out on the table. Better than great, really.

It doesn’t help, though, that the Nyrulians are a bit sore over him blowing up their ship, and a war is brewing. And because Charles has that kind of luck, they’re in the middle of it.

I have loved the stars too fondly: Erik and Charles, directly after the events of Jupiter Jazz.Nothing will ever be the same.

The stars incline us, they do not bind us – ikeracity, pangea

Summary: Intergalactic Federation pilot Lieutenant Charles Xavier is assigned last-minute to a high profile mission: transporting over two thousand prison inmates from an old and overfilled prison complex to a newer, higher-capacity prison stronghold located on the outer reaches of the galaxy. Just as he’s settling down for a long and uneventful ride, things take a turn for the worse after the inmates riot and stage a hostile takeover of the ship, leaving Charles to find himself at the complete mercy of cold-blooded killers and facing the chilling prospect that he might not ever make it back home alive.

Tough little baby telepath – aesc, pearl_o

Summary: Teenage telepath Charles Xavier takes a job as a consultant, working with prickly police detective Erik Lehnsherr. Charles is used to being on his own and taking care of himself; he has no reason to think that his relationship with this stern, icy man is going to change any of that.

An absence which could not be more there – aesc

Summary: He prepared to shift another half-step over to the Current Events section (which would, of course, enrage him) when the teaser positioned by the model’s left elbow caught his eye: DATING WHILE TELEPATHIC: WHY I DON’T DO IT.

Backseat ‘verse´ – tahariel

Summary: “Charles has a very sweet nature,” Raven is saying, her hand falling to the back of his head and stroking his hair very gently, carelessly affectionate. “He doesn’t need someone to force him down, he’s very happy to go there himself. If Erik is the sort to need a fight, then there’s no way I could let him have my brother.”

Simple and Uncomplicated – Pookaseraph

Summary: Erik and Charles had been fuck buddies for some, but when Charles is in an accident he figured their relationship would be over. Erik’s visit to his bedside in the hospital changes his assumptions even as he has trouble believing Erik is sincere.

Made To Be Broken – Yahtzee

Summary: Charles makes a New Year’s Resolution: “No more straight men,” Charles repeated as he began scrolling through the apartment directory for Emma’s name. “No more futility. No more pointless hoping and heartbreak. In 2013, I never want to hear the words ‘exception,’ ‘experimenting’ or ‘phase.’ If, God forbid, I hear ‘bicurious’ even once, I may take a hostage.” Then he goes into the party, and Erik is there.

Five Bullet Points – Sperare

Summary: It was supposed to be Erik locked away in a prison one hundred stories below the ground.

Charles was never supposed to be there with him.

Terrifying Domesticity – ishipitsobad

Summary: Erik is the most dangerous and notorious mafia boss around for miles, and yet the strangest things terrify him. For example: his children, and his very pregnant mate.

The Trouble With Telepaths – endingthemes

Summary: “Are you shy about me meeting your family?” Erik asks with a huge smile. “Are you kidding me?”“It’s not funny,” Charles says, his hands firmly planted on his hips, and it’s honestly hilarious so Erik laughs right in his face.(Or a Star Trek AU in which Captain Erik Lehnsherr pays a visit to First Officer Charles Xavier's home planet and encounters a few surprises.)

Stolen – ishipitsobad

Summary: Erik is a miserable, grumpy, cantankerous bastard, and he has every fucking right to be. He drew the short end of the stick when he got the Underworld as his domain, and there isn't very much fun to be had in judging and governing dead souls who would rather be anywhere else but with Erik in the depths of Hell.

So when he meets Charles, brilliant and lovely Charles who is more popularly known amongst the mortals as Persephone, and feels the promise of something wonderful that could make his eternally doomed existence infinitely more bearable... you can bet all your drachmas Erik's not going to let Charles go any fucking time soon.

The Mutant Games – TurtleTotem

Summary: "You'll be fine, darling," Charles murmured, half-asleep, into golden hair as Raven crawled sniffling into his bed. "Your name's only in there once, Raven. They're not going to pick you." (Hunger Games AU)

City by the sea – Black_Betty

Summary: It never bothered Charles that he essentially belonged to someone else from birth. Ever since he could remember he had been told stories about the mysterious prince who was his betrothed, and who one day would be called husband. As he grew older, Charles caught his thoughts drifting away from lessons under strict tutors, his mind slipping into the hazy daydream of his life yet to come…

In Shadow and in Silence – Yahtzee

Summary: Written for the following prompt: Erik is an aggressive, dangerous, cynical mutant, hardened from years of being passed through private laboratories and used for experimentation. He’s covered in surgical scars from operations, tattooed and bar coded like a lab rat, and blind from an experiment done on his eyes. … Charles Xavier finds out about him. Charles runs a sort of sanctuary for mutants that provides lost, abandoned, abused, runaway mutants with shelter, comfort, and help with ability control. He thinks he can rehabilitate Erik and save him from execution, and convinces the government that he can.

When Erik arrives, he is a lot worse than Charles thought he would be … Everyone else can see that Erik is a nuclear bomb waiting to go off, but Charles refuses to give up on him. …

The first time Charles sneaks up on him wearing no metal, it triggers him and he reacts instinctively, with violence. … Erik discovers why Charles understands him so well: he was once used in experiments as well, experiments run by his own family, and in one of them, he lost his voice, so he uses his telepathy to communicate.

Blind Erik, mute Charles, the love.

Everyday Love in Stockholm – tahariel

Summary: Prompt: Magneto is the ruler of the posthuman world. His only secret? Charles Xavier, the human he’s kept locked in his bedroom ever since his right-hand woman, Mystique, came to him pleading for mercy for her stepbrother, who accepted her mutant form and protected her as a child. The human he started fucking after Mystique was killed in battle, despite the guilt he feels at contaminating even this last promise to the woman who was integral to his life’s work and happiness.

The Tower and the Hurricane – dreamlittleyo

Summary: (Post-movie AU.) Five years after Shaw's death, Erik's predictions prove painfully accurate. Violence rages on both sides of the human/mutant conflict. In a world ravaged by war, it doesn't really matter who's more at fault. Charles struggles to teach his students a better way, but what choices will he make when peace really isn't an option?

Honest Bone and Burning Thought – Black_Betty

Summary: And so sometimes, his mind buzzing away, bright and brilliant and humming with pure expansive energy, Charles speaks without thinking at all. Without censoring himself. Without realizing that his brain has reached out and snatched something that was never his to know, or take…

The Attempt – Yahtzee

Summary: Written for the following prompt: Charles knows everything about Erik, knows how obsessive and self-destructive he is, how Erik would do anything, give anything, in his quest for vengeance against Shaw. But he also knows that Erik loves him in ways that aren't exactly platonic. I'd like to see a completely straight!Charles, out of pure love and care of Erik, initiate a romantic relationship with him. It can be because he wishes to give Erik something positive in his life or because he thinks it might help change Erik's mind about Shaw, the reason is up to author. Also, while Charles finds intimacy with Erik strange and awkward, he does enjoy the new, non-romantic layers that have developed in their relationship.