#college au snowing

[gladiatorcunt]

Modern coryo whos trying to sorta maybe manipulate his gf by being obsessed and then not reading her texts for 3 days but the gf is literally the same so it’ll be like

r: “heyyy” and then a day later he replies “heyaaa” and then it goes on like that for a week until he cracks and sends her 15 messages in the span of 4 minutes

cw: feminization/fem label “gf” but the reader is still only intended to be afab, the ask has she/her pronouns but i don’t use them in the writing, manipulation and toxic behavior, typical coryo/modern!coryo warnings, love bombing, not canon to the main au, black cat reader ish, reader has a shower in their dorm bc i say so 🤫, male masturbation

Now Coryo wouldn’t do this during your relationship, despite his best attempts to play it cool, you make him panic and he’s immediately resorting to rich boy love bombing (trips, those ridiculously expensive boxed roses, 999999999 rounds of oral on his yacht, a summer house, etc.) followed by baby trapping. He’s not stupid enough to try something like that deeper into your relationship, for him it’s about making sure the foundation is as solid as possible and not shaking it up.

This would really only happen before you even start dating, after he’s bumped into you in the dorms enough times to wear you down into giving him your number. He’s still in his “i have to the most mysterious person alive” mindset and he hasn’t quite shed the fuckboy persona yet. He doesn’t seek anybody out or anything, it was love at first sight with you unfortunately, he’ll just imply that that you’re another contact in a long list. (You’re the only one in his favorites 💀)

You’re smart enough to be wary, too involved in academics and proving yourself to go sniffing around Coriolanus Snow. You don’t really talk to a lot of people, and you’re not interested in a swarm of meaningless interactions. You’re just grateful that he stopped calling you so much, learning that you very much prefer texting. He’s the king of the “hey u up?” text, and you have the flattest look on your face as you reply “Yes.” and turn your phone face down. Exchanges like happen over and over.

Does your heart flutter when he insists on walking you to class and pecking your cheek at the door? Yes but you’ll roll your eyes and make a big deal out of wiping it off. Are you intrigued by how much he hauls ass to get you your coffee order whenever he senses that you need it (because he can, he’s like spiderman but lame)? Well, yes, but he must be playing some kind of game with you. Has a cliche bet with his fraternity brothers over your assumed virginity maybe. The more you’re determined to not fall for it, the more you find yourself slipping as the days go by.

Just when you turn your head when he pecks your cheek outside the lecture hall, expecting the gesture more than dreading it, he gives you a blank stare and turns on his heel. You take a second to blink and then shrug, it’s no skin off you back if Coriolanus decides to be normal for once. You definitely do not have a bit of a scowl throughout the entire session. (he nearly lost it when you didn’t react at the lack of a kiss, he kicked the wall and almost broke his foot)

He’s back to the “heyy” texts at random hours, responding to your “Hey.” that came a day later two days after that. He’s screaming into his pillow and pacing his grandma’am’s gardens, glaring at the staff pruning the shrubs. Coryo would rather die than admit defeat though, so he hardens his resolve. You’ll break eventually. You on the other hand are living normally, slurping ramen and working on essays. You’ve learned not get your hopes up over a pipe dream, the idea that someone like him would genuinely care about you being so laughable that you get over it rather quickly. You may be from different economic classes, but a man’s attention is never a necessity. That an he’s far from the only trust fund kid in the world.

A week later, your phone goes off in the middle of the night. You step out of the shower and dry yourself off, walking over to your bed and picking it up. To your surprise, the notification from Coriolanus isn’t another dry message, it’s several videos. They all look dark and fuzzy, ranging from 30 seconds to 10 minutes. In some of the thumbnails you can see flashes of bare skin. You click on the first one and are immediately faces with Coriolanus Snow’s sweaty abs.

You’re frozen as he eventually splatters jizz all over them, the camera work is shaky and the flash exposes too much for your liking. You can see his abdominal muscles twitch in the aftermath of his orgasm. He drags his fingers through his own cum and smears it over the camera, giving you a pov of what it’d be like to have your face covered in it.

Your phone chimes again.

Stalker: turn the sound on for the rest ;) see u at the car wash next friday, babe ❤️

You block him (after you save the videos and check the charge on your vibrator).

[doubleaynus]

by @siinsart on X /twitter

[littledancer9]

Seasons of Change: The Next Fall

Jonerys Falling for You 2023: College AU

Hosted by @iceandfirejonerysdiscord

Jon & Dany edit in my mood board by @axdragons

Unfortunately, my muse was not musing in time to get the first chapter our for the event, but I wanted to share a mood board and a sneak peek!

The sequel to my summer fic, The Summer Before

Summary: After years of being each other’s summer fling, Jon and Daenerys are finally in the same place and ready to begin their committed relationship as real adults; they’ve made it to college. 

Vignettes of fall semesters and first experiences as Jon and Dany grow as musicians and in their relationship conquering everything from sorority rush to picking a career path to community bathrooms.

Sneak Peak under the cut!

“Jon, I need to go back to my place. Shower, get ready for class, try not to look like I just rolled out of my boyfriend’s bed.”

He nuzzled his face into her neck. “I like you looking like you rolled out of your boyfriend’s bed. Just shower here. You don’t even wash your hair every time.” His voice was muffled against her collarbone, goose bumps rising up to her ear from the vibrations.

“I can’t do that! You have a shared bathroom!” There was no way trying to sneak into the shower in a communal boy’s bathroom was going to happen. “Other… boys could be in there,” she all but whispered.

He chuckled into her neck, rolling his head back to look up at her while his hand trailed down to rub against her hip. “My sweet city girl never had to rough it in the community bathrooms.”

She frowned. Community restrooms were nasty. She had painstakingly chosen a dorm room for her and Missy where they would only have to share the bathroom between the two of them. And her mom had paid for a cleaner to come every two weeks to make sure it stayed pristine. “Are they even clean?” She crinkled her nose.

“I think so.” His brows knit together.  “Cleaners go through pretty regularly.” His hand rubbed her hip a little rougher. “I could go with you. Keep you safe from any germs or prying eyes.” His breath was warm when he dipped back to her neck, licking at the small divot between her jaw and her ear. “Make sure you don’t miss a spot while you wash up.”

She rutted against his leg which had slipped between hers. She could feel herself pulsing at the idea. They’d never had shower sex before. They’d be wet and slippery and close because she was pretty sure it was a stall. Rough thumbs brushed the skin hiding underneath her t-shirt till they found her nipples, circling them gently. This was why she never made it back to her dorm in the first place last night. 

“I guess if you were there to keep me safe from all the germs,” she whispered, grinding down against his leg again. She turned checking her phone for the time. “But we have to go now before anyone else on your floor is up.”

[ravendruid]

Vaxleth and number 28 a kiss in the rain👀

Helloooo! Thank you for sending a prompt, friend <3 Because this is a repeat prompt, I wrote it in the Be In My Eyes universe. It happens during the week between Chapter 29 and Chapter 30. (Here's the link to the entire fic, if y'all need a refresh *wink*)

A Kiss in the Snow

(Read on AO3)

Finals week is hell, that is widely known, but Vax’ildan is thankful to have someone who makes it a little bit more bearable, even though Keyleth can be an unending well of stress and anxiety, which, in turn, spikes his anxiety. They have been studying at the library most of the afternoon, and Keyleth has finally entered what Vax has started to call the ‘info-dumping out of her ears’ phase of studying, which is to say: Keyleth is not absorbing any new information but is instead dumping all she has studied on Vax. 

If he didn’t know how stressed she is and how much pressure she puts on herself to have the highest grades, Vax would find her rambling adorable, but as it is, Vax knows Keyleth is reaching her limit, and he knows the next stage is not going to be pretty, so he grabs the hand that has been twirling a pen for the past fifteen minutes, and decides, “We’re done for today, Kiki.”

“What? No I still need to review–”

“Nope. You’re done,” Vax takes the pen away from her and starts closing her books. “We are going home, maybe we’ll stop at the coffee shop for a hot cocoa, but we’re done studying today.”

Keyleth pouts and, for a second, Vax almost falters, but then he sees the twitch in the corner of her eyes that signifies stress and his will returns. “Don’t bother trying to convince me otherwise, Keyleth,” He says stoically, then starts putting away her stuff in her backpack. Keyleth resigns to his wishes with an eyeroll and takes her bag from Vax’s hand to finish packing while he packs his own stuff.

“You’re a buzzkill, Vax.” 

“You’ll thank me later when, instead of barging into my room crying for comfort, you’ll be nice and relaxed watching a movie with me.” Vax shrugs. Keyleth gives him a stink eye that he knows is because she won’t admit he’s right, then gets up and starts leaving. 

The snow crunches under their boots as they leave the library. Keyleth is all bundled up with a thick, woolen coat, a handmade knitted scarf and a beanie, but all Vax has is his hoodie on top of a long-sleeve, which, unfortunately, it’s not enough layers to keep the cold away.

“Aren’t you cold?” Keyleth points out. 

“Freezing, but what can I do?” Vax shrugs. He gets closer to Keyleth, who wraps her arm around his to try to get some body heat into him. “It’s not like I can afford clothes right now.” 

With the holidays coming up, the twins' bank account is growing emptier every day. Vax has already started looking for temporary jobs, but he hasn’t had much luck yet. Hopefully by the time the semester ends Vax will have found something. 

“Are you sure there is nothing I can do?” Keyleth asks, even though Vax has already made it clear that he doesn’t need her to go out of her way to make sure he’s clothed and fed—she actually ignored the last part because she keeps “accidentally” buying too many groceries and keeps “allowing” the twins to have her food, which Vax is secretly thankful for.

“I’m sure. I’m looking for a job, which should help. I think Vex has a job secured, too, for the break, so it’ll be alright.” Vax says. Keyleth drops the conversation and changes topics to exams, which makes Vax want to roll his eyes. He doesn’t do it, though. He knows Keyleth is anxious and she needs to talk about it, so he lets her speak until his ears start bleeding.

“And next semester I think I’m going to replace Anatomy with something a bit more fun,” Keyleth says, more to herself than to Vax.

“Anatomy is fun, though.” He jokes. Keyleth gives him an amused side eye that makes him snort.

“You say that because you’re the best in class at it,” She points out. Vax laughs at her argument. She’s so right. “What can I say… I love studying anatomy,” He jokes with a wink, then stops, turns to face Keyleth and leans close to her face. “Especially with you,” he whispers huskily. 

Vax loves when Keyleth gets this flustered around him, how her face grows increasingly red and her lips part in a shallow pant. He loves how her body seems to have a mind of its own and leans into him, how her hands usually end up fisting the clothes at his chest and pulling him flush against her. Vax loves the little reactions that he can only witness this close to her, the little twitches of her lips, the fluttering of her lashes, the upturn of the corner of her lips.

“May I kiss you?” He mutters. Keyleth’s eyes widen in surprise—at the request itself or the fact that Vax wants to kiss her, he doesn’t know—but she nods her consent, so Vax cups her face and kisses her softly.

Keyleth tastes like coffee and pastries, her lips are soft and warmer than Vax’s and so, so delicate. Vax could live like this forever, in her hold, kissing her in the middle of the street. He would do this every day for the rest of his life if he could, and Keyleth is not showing any signs that she wants to stop, anyway, so maybe they will.

Until something hits Vax’s forehead. Something damp and cold. Then another one hits the tip of his nose, and his hands, and his head. One after another, drops of rain start falling on them, growing increasingly faster, harder and colder. 

“Is it—” Keyleth interrupts the kiss to look up. Her eyes shine with glee as the first flake melts on the tip of her nose, then another on her forehead and she starts bubbling with laughter.

“It’s snowing,” Vax laughs. They hold hands in the snow, grinning at each other like fools. Keyleth’s face is rosy from the cold and the warmth of their kiss, and Vax knows he is just as flushed as she is.

The snow starts falling faster and, in less than a minute, their hairs are speckled with white, which makes Keyleth laugh again. She tries to wipe a few snowflakes out of Vax’s hair but he brings her hand to his cheek instead and melts at the warm touch. “You’re so beautiful,” Keyleth says in a hushed tone. “So are you,” he returns, cupping her cheek and leaning into her again. From this close, Vax can see the little bits of snow dusting Keyleth’s lashes, which, together with the inviting redness of her lips, makes him want to kiss her again.

“Yes,” Keyleth whispers as if she read Vax’s mind, then closes her eyes and leans until her lips are brushing his.

Vax doesn’t delay the kiss. He holds her tightly and lets their lips touch, then their tongues explore each other’s mouths. The snow keeps falling, faster and harder, and Vax knows they only have so much time before they need to run back home before they get soaked to the bone, but for now he is going to enjoy the moment and drink in the feeling of Keyleth’s lips on his as if it’s the last time he gets to do it.

[diana-bookfairchild]

Falling (for you) Through The Snow

My fic for @jilychallenge2023 Winter in June Challenge. Partner: @wearingaberetinparis Prompt: You’re a snow artist and I think you just made a snowman(woman) that looks exactly like me… do you have anything to confess?

Lily Evans loathed the winter season.

She hated having to wear unwieldy scarves and large sweaters. She hated shivering and sneezing all the time. She hated the biting chill of the air. She hated the crunching of snow under her feet and having to shovel it out of the way. She hated even the merry carolers and especially the mistletoe she was allergic to.

It was honestly kind of ironic, because the man she was in love with was a snow artist and ice sculptor, which meant he basically personified All The Cold Things. Even imagining watching him make his intricate ice sculptures and snow craft made her smile.

She was that far gone.

Except that scenario was not at all plausible, firstly because she did not know the name of the man she was in love with, and secondly, he did not return her feelings. He was fixated on the The Unattainable Angel, or as Lily liked to call her, The One Who Had No Idea How Lucky She Was.

The name needed some work, but it conveyed her sentiment well enough.

She disliked disliking or competing with a fellow female but. . . Well, emotion did tend to disregard rational judgement and decision-making.

The love of her life thought ‘Effermont’ was a good pen-name, and she’d still fallen for him, so, well, love very clearly was one of those emotions.

It was her turn to write him, wasn’t it? It’d been nearly two days since she’d picked his letter up from Albus Dumbledore’s lovely little café Godric’s Hollow. If she left it much longer, he might think she’d abandoned him.

Or, more likely, that she’d died, seeing as he was rather full of himself on the exterior and would never believe anyone would deny themselves the opportunity to ‘bask in his reflected glory’ (his own words).

She’d grumble about the season to him. That always got him very cutely riled up.

Dear Eff,

Or should I say toff? I can’t believe you have a ski lodge! Are you going to it these hols? And what about your best friend/very annoying brother? Will he be going with you or is his wicked family going to trap him into one of their horror movie family reunions?

I can’t believe it’s winter again. I hate this season so much!

I can just see your face (I mean, I would I if I knew what it looked like) looking so annoyed. I know you like the winter, Eff. It’s the only flaw in your oh-so-perfect self.

I mean, winter is just plain annoying. With literally none of the good things other seasons bring! What comes in the winter? Slipping on the ice? Strawberries?

In other news, my sister and her husband came to visit home and my mum ordered me back, so I spent this weekend in my house in dodgy old Cokeworth. You haven’t heard of it. It’d be a no-name except I just wrote its name, so.

My nephew is a sweet baby, the cutest and chubbiest one on the planet. My sister on the other hand. . . Well, I’ll leave it at ‘we could get along better’. But you already know that. You probably know more of my sister and my relationship than anyone except my old best friend, but talking about him really brings down my mood so I’m not going to do that.

Not that much needs to happen for that. Winter is coming, after all. Winter is already here and that is such a pity.

She bought me this really ugly pink sweater. I’m sure it’s not lost on her that I’m a redhead and therefore ANY pink looks absolutely terrible on me, much less this garish monstrosity that makes me want to poke my eyes out when I look in the mirror while wearing it.

Redheads look terrible in pink. And basically any colour on the red spectrum. It’s a fact of life, and one she knows VERY well.

And she had the nerve to say it suited my personality? I’m sorry, what?

Honestly, sometimes I just want to kill her. And not in the good way – like how you say it about your very annoying best friend/brother.

How goes the life-ending heart rending love for The Unattainable Angel? You didn’t talk about that in your last letter, which is odd. Your letters are usually full of romantic woes. No judgement, mine were too, back when I actually had a romantic life to speak of.

How are your friends? Got into any ridiculous shenangians lately? Have you talked to your mother since your last letter? It sounds like you argued pretty badly and I know she’s very important to you, Mama’s boy.

In all seriousness, don’t let the bitterness fester. It does so too easily, and honestly, I’m a prime example. Don’t let one argument ruin such a wonderful relationship, Eff.

Onto lighter topics. I tried the flavour you recommended at Godric’s. It was good. Just the right amount of bitterness to offset the sweetness. Finally, we can say we both like a coffee flavour! It looked impossible for a while there.

And no, Katniss and Gale would definitely not make a good couple! The sheer amount of sweets you like to have is rotting your brain, Eff. Everlark all the way, thank you very much.

How are your studies going? Mine are going pretty well. At least you don’t need to take a Sociology class which requires you to send letters out to complete strangers in the hopes they’ll reply. I can’t regret picking this social experiment, though, because it got me you, and that made it pretty much worth it.

Pretty much. Weighing it out.

No letter hassle v. No Eff. Hmmm. Hard to say.

Kidding.

Continuing the getting to know you game: I hate, hate, HATE answering this but the embarrassing story about me my mum and dad just adore telling people is the time I went around the house narrating everything that was happening just in case we had cameras recording us for a reality show. Or the time I was flower-girl at my aunt’s wedding and I threw all the flowers on her new husband’s really annoying father’s head. Or the time I tried to cut my hair with safety scissors and had to get a bob cut to rectify the mess. Or the leash story. God, the leash story. You don’t want to know it. It’s even more mortifying as an adult.

If I could holiday anywhere, it’d be Italy. Venice and Rome especially! The thought of going along on a little gondola is just really fun, and Rome has all the history I love. History’s been my favourite subject since I was a kid. Not that I could ever tell dad. Maths has obviously been my sister’s and my favourite since we were kids and still is.

He still isn’t over me studying law.

So, for you! If you could have any name other than your given one (obviously, I don’t know what it is, so please don’t trick me by just using that!) what would it be? If you could have any pet, which animal and why?

And write something for me. You’re a psychology student, psychoanalyze me and write me something I’d like. I know, I know, your artistic talents tend towards visual – being a snow artist and all –  rather than literature, I’m the literature swot between us, but I recorded that song on the piano and sent it to you, didn’t I?

I hope the walls of your house didn’t collapse from how bad that was.

Lots of love,

Flower.

Her pining didn’t show through that, Lily thought, pleased. Nor did her bitterness at asking about The Unattainable Angel. Lily despised the thought of seeing the other girl as a competitor – and she didn’t – but she didn’t need to drive a stake through her heart by repeatedly hearing about her.

But she had long decided the only way to get over a hopeless crush was to power through it while making her heart bleed over and over. Hence the asking.

She folded the letter and slid it into the envelope.

“Lily!” Mary called from the hall. “Are you done getting ready?”

Lily froze guiltily. She’d completely forgotten about the party in favour of venting her frustrations at Eff. He was very good at taking that. He was quite possibly the best pen pal in the universe, except she had no objective way of measuring that.

Subjectively, he absolutely was.

But back to the moment.

“Er, not yet,” she yelled back to her roommate. “Give me a minute!”

She quickly put on the dress Eliza had gotten out for her earlier – much to her protestations then and now relief that she didn’t have to select one herself – and did her makeup. It wasn’t anywhere near what she would have typically done for a party.

“Your minute means an hour,” Mary was exaggeratedly complaining as she slipped out of her room. She frowned at her. “Why do you look like you threw that together in thirty seconds?”

Probably because she had.

“Never mind that,” Eliza said like the godsend she was. “Mare, do her hair while I get the mascara.”

“I don’t get why you guys treat me like a baby,” Lily grumbled, even as grateful as she was.

Eliza pinched her cheek. “Oh poor jelly-baby,” she cooed her very demeaning nickname for Lily.

“Quit acting like one then,” Mary suggested rudely, parting her hair.

“We’re stopping by Godric’s on the way.” Lily announced as she started driving on the icy roads, finally entirely ready. She looked in the rearview mirror for a moment. She looked amazing. Mary and Eliza were miracle workers.

Mary groaned. “Oh, come on. Do you do anything other than write to your beloved Effermont?”

Mary was very disapproving of the whole letter-writing thing: both the concept of writing to a stranger and the reopening of her very tender wounds of heartbreak every time.

“Plenty,” she replied drily. “Listen to your opinions regarding it, for one.”

“I’m just worried about you, Lils!” She called after her as she left the car. They’d reached Godric’s Hollow café.

Fair enough.

Albus Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled as brightly as ever as he took her letter outside his café. “Your Effermont is in there right now,” he said amusedly. She flushed at the ‘your’ before actually registering the sentence.

“Oh my God,” she said, feeling a thrill run up her. This was the first time they’d ever been this close to each other – that Lily knew of, anyway. “I should go then. Don’t want him discovering my identity.”

“Of course. Is this the actual letter or simply the directions? For I fear he’s in somewhat of a hurry,” Albus said.

Lily grinned. Eff had made her drink his coffee recommendation – good and not ridiculously sweet for once – before she could get his last letter. She’d once made him climb a tree. He’d once given her a series of riddles to solve before Albus gave her his letter. It was fun, but also not something you could do quickly, and Lily’s grumble fest had been pretty quick. Their letters typically reached seven or eight pages.

“The letter itself,” she assured him, shaking his hand before striding back to the car. Mary frowned disapprovingly, and Eliza gave her a thumbs up.

Mary lectured her about the letters all through the drive, making her very relieved to come up the driveway of the house where Benjy Fenwick was hosting the party.

“That is one big ass house,” she said under her breath as she leaned against her car after parking. Mary and Eliza were already inside.

“Isn’t it just?” Remus Lupin smiled at her, looking as tired as always. “Fenwick has a really huge inheritance.”

She bit back the instinctive ‘how are you’ – she was sure a chronically sick person like him was sick of that (pun unintended) – and instead asked, “Where are your mates?”

He waved vaguely at the house. “Sirius and Peter are in there, causing trouble no doubt, but James got. . . Delayed.” There was a wry twist to the last word that suggested disapproval or amusement. Lily couldn’t tell. “I’m waiting for him now, in fact.”

Alarm reared in her head. The last thing she wanted was to run into James Potter. She didn’t loathe him anymore the way she had in high school, but that didn’t mean she wanted to see him.

Too bad for her.

“Hey, Moony! I’ve got a new—” James Potter stopped short at the sight of her, blinking. He was casually handsome in a polo shirt and jacket and trousers, hair tousled, his spectacles lopsided on his angular face. “Evans.”

“Potter,” she said briskly. “I’ll see you in class, Remus.” She moved towards the house, when Potter grabbed her arm. It was gentle, not restricting or pulling, but it felt like a jolt of electricity ran up her arm. “Don’t touch me!”

She turned to glare at him. He backed up in alarm, holding his hands up. “Sorry, Evans. Just had a question.”

She breathed through her irritation. “What is it?”

“Can I use you as a model?”

“A model for what?” She stared at him.

Potter faltered, “I – uh, I’m an artist of sorts. And I was just wondering, for this commission—”

“You can,” she said brusquely, moving again. She modelled for art classes for extra money. She was used to being a muse for people. She didn’t know why Potter had asked in the first place but. . . It was considerate of him.

Maybe he wasn’t that bad.

On second thought, nah. She remembered the utter fiasco he’d created last week in the mess hall.

Potter was, for some reason, the person she disliked most among the self-proclaimed Marauders. Perhaps it was his brief obsession with asking her out back in high school, or the fact that he’d been the main perpetrator in Sev being bullied. But she immensely disliked talking to or being around him either way, so it didn’t really matter.

She rejoined Eliza – Mary was off somewhere with her toy of the night, this time Hestia Jones – and thankfully managed to avoid all the Marauders for the rest of the party.

She even managed to enjoy herself, drinking a fair bit, dancing, playing a couple games and giving her number to a cute guy who might actually help her get over Eff.

All in all not a half bad night. She’d gone to worse parties.

She found herself back in Godric’s Hollow the two evenings later, listening to Marshmello on her headphones, sipping a Frappuccino (bitter, obviously) and finishing editing her assignment in Trade Relations.

“Lily,” Albus called. She looked up enquiringly, slipping her headphones down her neck. “A note from your Effermont.”

The whole world lit up from its previously dull colours. She eagerly took the folded paper from the barista, reading the scrawled message. Eff had a weird handwriting: it was like he’d been taught calligraphy, but didn’t have the time or the bother to either use it properly or disregard it completely.

It was charming. She loved it.

You will find your letter at the following place: 1. Dog Walkers for Hire 2. Home Repair 3. Symphony Orchestra

Lily closed her laptop and packed her things hurriedly, eagerness swimming through her. She’d figured out the place easily, and rushed to the intersection, grabbing the letter (with a laugh at the fact that a Congrats! Sticker was stamped on the envelope) and walked back to the flat, pulling her shawl tighter around herself.

God, she hated the cold.

 Eff was as irascibly cheerful as ever.

To the Prettiest Flower in Existence, started the letter, making Lily blush delightedly.

It is I, your beloved Eff! I hope you haven’t missed me too much. It took a while to set up the hunt and write down everything I wanted to do. My mum goes crazy for Christmas. She’s hired all these decorators for the manor, and I can just hear you say ‘toff’! (If I knew what your voice sounded like, of course). So my very annoying best friend/brother and I had to clear off for a bit, and then my other friend had this episode with his illness and. . .

Well, anyway, I was busy. And things are all fine now. Mum isn’t going any less crazy, sadly, but the rest of it’s sorted.

To answer your questions: Honestly, I’m not sure what name I’d like. My dad and mum have these really ridiculous names, you’d laugh if you ever heard them. Seriously. And my best friends too. So I think I’d either want some stupidly fancy thing to match them (not likely) – like Theodore, or Romulus, or Perseus, or Octavius or Septimus. More likely some nice, common name like mine. So. . . Tom maybe. Tom sounds nice. Or Alastair. That’s a cool name too. Daniel. Sam. Alex. Noah. Henry, like my granddad. And I would love to be a Finnick, obviously. After my favourite character, even if it would invite jokes about being too finicky.

Honestly, it’s impossible to choose! Just like you to give these weird philosophical questions, Flower. I had to ask my parents why they chose the name James and all that, so points for giving me a chance to learn some family history plus some terrible details of their sex life I never wanted to know.

As for the second one, an owl. Hands down. I don’t need a dog, because my best friend/brother is practically one, minus the obedience part. An owl just sounds really amazing. Nocturnal animal, for one. It could keep me company on my night study sessions. Did you know they can rotate their necks upto 270 degrees?? And that they have asymmetrical ears? Plus they could be like carrier pigeons! Delivery owls! I’d train them. In fact, I want to be an owl trainer when I grow up. Forget my Psychology and Philosophy degree.

You’ve probably gathered from some of the other comments that I made up with mum. You were right. Naturally. You’re probably always right, and just incredible like that. I was a bit hesitant about making the first apology (my pride yada yada, psychoanalyzing and all) but your letter convinced me, so. . . Thanks for that, Flower. You’re the best.

I have heard of Cokeworth, actually. It’s where The Unattainable Angel is from, which is such a coincidence! Do you think you might know one another? You’re both about the same age – mine – and I gather it’s a fairly small town so you must, yeah?

I am extremely offended at your disparaging winter, Flower. My favourite season! I’m sorry, we’re over. I can’t write to someone who hates something so meaningful to me. I’m a snow artist! It’s a bit weird, isn’t it, that we’re writing to one another? Months after your first generic letter for your project? You dislike sweet stuff, I love it. You hate winter, and the winter is literally my livelihood. You ship Everlark, I ship Everthorne. BTW, you’re wrong about that. Like, so wrong. Attached is a list of reasons Everthorne would work. I love Katniss and Gale together!

Attached is also a story I wrote for you. Feel honoured, Flower. I don’t do this for just anybody. Also, don’t come at me when you find that it’s absolutely awful. I know. Like you said, I’m not a writer. I’m an artist. A SNOW artist, so deal with it. Winter’s the best. Winter is already here, and that is AMAZING.

Speaking as an artist, I can assure you, pink does not look terrible on all redheads. The Unattainable Angel is a redhead, and she would look pretty in a garbage bag, so I refute your assertion. I bet you look good in pink too.

In order to prove that, I, the stunning snow artist that I am, will be making a sculpture of The Unattainable Angel in pink! It’s a commission I got last week, for this business party in a garden in the suburbs. It’s some fundraiser, sort of, plus networking – don’t ask me. My dad does this kind of stuff for his business, and it all goes way over my head. Who holds something like this in a garden though? And wants an ice sculpture for it? Especially one of a girl? I contemplated not doing it, especially because I don’t want her stared at by perverts, but she agreed, and she’s a model, so she’s probably used to it. . .

She’s so great. And so incredibly gorgeous. I can’t wait to get sculpting! It’ll turn out beautiful, I’m sure. Anything would, with her as model.

Ouch about your sister, though. I can’t believe she said that. I’m sorry your relationship has soured so much. My best friend/adopted brother is the worst and most annoying person on the planet, but I can’t imagine my life or myself without him. I’m sorry you’ve lost that closeness. I’m sure it must be hard.

The Unattainable Angel is as, well, unattainable as ever. She really, really hates me. So nothing new on that front, except I actually managed words to ask her if she can be my model for the sculpture, to prove something to you and for the commission – the first more than the second ;)

Trust me, you don’t want to know about my friends. Really. Like I said, my chronically ill friend had an episode, but he’s fine now. But really. My brother and our other friend did this so stupid thing yesterday. . . It involved flag poles. And jumping off buildings. They may have been a tad drunk.

They must have been – either that, or clinically insane. And my mum still didn’t scold him! She’s definitely playing favourites. And I am not pouting about it. Also, I am so not a Mama’s boy, Flower! You take that back!

My studies are going well. I got an A on that test I wrote to you about being nervous about, so that’s a relief. It’s so weird to think we’re already well into our second year. It feels like I’m still at high school sometimes. The general stupidity of the population doesn’t change no matter where you are, I’m sure you would say. But still.

Yeeees, soon we’ll bring you onto the dark side Flower! Soon you’ll be consuming the sugariest and sweetest stuff known to mankind and loving it! In all seriousness, glad you liked the rec! I’m going to suggest white chocolate peppermint tea now. It’s a Godric’s special. It’s pretty sweet, but I think you’ll like it. Or maybe not. Try it and tell me!

I absolutely want to know the leash story! Tell me, tell me, tell me! Pretty please with a cherry on top? I’m sending you puppy eyes right now. I wish you could see. My mum tells me my puppy dog begging eyes are absolutely lethal. I bet you’d cave in an instant. I wish we could meet in person. I know you don’t want to – just an idle wish.

Also, wow. Those stories are hilarious. Not as stupidly embarrassing as ones my mum insists on telling though. She brings out the baby album every. time. somebody visits. It’s so stupid! And my brother is no help, he just keeps laughing, especially because there aren’t any baby photos of him.

I bet you looked cute with your bob cut, though. How old were you then? The thought that people might be watching us in some reality show is pretty scary. Thanks for the nightmares, Flower.

Continuing the game: Tell me your favourite traditions for a holiday. Any holiday. And if you could have any three books survive the apocalypse with you, which would they be?

I want you to write down five things you even slightly like about the winter. As a snow artist, I demand that my pen pal/closest female friend like at least something about it. If you could send me that piano recording (which wasn’t that bad by the way) you can do this. For me? With puppy dog eyes again.

Lots of love,

Effermont.

Lily was smiling instinctively as she read through the letter, already composing a reply inside her head. She couldn’t help it. Eff was so effortlessly cheerfully charming. God, she was so hopelessly in love with him. Even as he pined after The Unattainable Angel. Who sounded like a bitch who had no idea what she had.

Lily sighed and tried to let go of that misplaced anger. She just wished she could have Eff like her. He did seem like he was flirting sometimes. It got her hopes up when they oughtn’t.

Maybe Mary was right. Maybe this was bad for her.

But at the same time – she couldn’t stomach the thought of this stopping. Of never receiving a letter from him again. Of never laughing at his random thoughts and smiley faces. Of never feeling that despairing love again.

There was no good choice.

She let her chin drop onto her palm as she scanned the letter again idly, stopping at the places where he complimented her, blushing and feeling nerves stir in her stomach. Stopping where he described his latest commission, she frowned.

That sounded familiar. Lily thought about it, putting the letter and the attached papers away for later reading and replying. A networking event. Garden. In the suburbs. Ice. . . Then it clicked.

Marlene’s mum’s company was having a gala in the garden just outside her house. A semi-informal one. Marley had talked to her about the ice statue of a girl they’d ordered for it. Someone in the family had been commissioned.

Lily’s heart skipped a beat. Someone in Marley’s family could be Eff. The thought was almost dangerous. She’d met her friend’s immediate family a couple times. Her mind was immediately racing: she had two brothers. And multiple male cousins. One of them. . .

But would knowing be a good thing? Did she want to know who Eff really was?

Yes, her traitorous heart replied. Of course she wanted to know whom she was in love with.

But the more sensible part of her protested. She already liked him enough. Knowing his true identity, seeing him around the Hogwarts campus – that might literally shatter her. She didn’t know if she could handle it.

But Lily was impulsive, reckless. It was somethine Tuney and Sev had derided her for multiple times. It was part of who she was. She took out her phone and shot a message to Marlene, asking if she could come to her mum’s party, on account of being a law student and networking.

It wasn’t a lie. Meeting influential people would be useful.

But she knew her main reason for asking. And it was purely personal.

The party was nice – a much classier affair than the high school and college parties she’d been to, thankfully. She chatted with several people, made nice and got business cards, all the while looking for an ice sculpture of a girl, heart thumping.

“Lily!” Marlene called. “Hey, crazy coincidence you’re here.”

“Why is that?” She asked, putting her glass of wine down and making her way to her friend.

Marley pointed vaguely in the direction behind her. “This ice statue— it’s of a girl, and—”

Lily didn’t bother listening further, turning and making her way in that direction. Then she saw the statue, and came to a standstill.

It was her. It was her, in pink clothes, just as Eff had promised. It was her right down to the curves of her hair and the green in her eyes and the smile on her face.

Eff had used her as the model for his commission.

She was The Unattainable Angel.

Her mind went blank. Her whole body felt numb, and not from the cold. Her hands were trembling.

Eff was in love with her. He was every bit in love with her as she was with him, judging by his letters.

She had to—she had to find him. She had to tell him. She had to move. She had to do something.

But what?

Dear Eff,

I saw the statue you made for the McKinnon Offices’ Business Party. I know her. I want to meet. I think I can help you finally attain The Unattainable Angel.

Love,

Flower

To the Flower of Utter Amazingness,

You want to meet??! Like, seriously?? Tell me this isn’t a joke, Flower. I’ve wanted this for ages.

I can’t believe you saw the statue.

So you do know Evans, huh. Small world.

Godric’s Hollow? The table where you left your first letter? 5 pm on Monday?

Lots and lots of love,

Effermont

Dear Eff,

Smaller than you might think, actually.

I’ll see you there.

Lots of love,

Flower

Lily was dying of anticipation.

She wasn’t one to tend to hyperbole like that – but this was an extraordinary situation. She was about to meet the man she was head-over-heels in love with. She felt that deserved some exaggeration.

It was four fifty-five on Monday. Lily had her book bag swung over her shoulder, too wrecked with nerves to go back to her apartment post classes.

She was going to meet Eff!

She. Was. Going. To. Meet. Her. Pen-Pal.

It still wouldn’t quite sink in.

She sat on a bench across the road from the café, with the table they were supposed to meet at well within view. She wasn’t willing to be seen as – well, desperate, and reach first, and she wanted to have a chance to assess after she was blindsided by information.

Lily liked to be in control of things.

It was why she found herself so extremely annoyed when James Potter of all people sat in at the table, moments after she’d taken her own seat. Why did he have to pick now to come to Godric’s? And that particular seat?

Eff would come soon and ask him to move away, she thought hopefully. She kept a keen eye out for anyone approaching that particular table, but no one did.

Bitterness welled deep in her twenty minutes into the wait. She couldn’t believe Eff had stood her up like this. It was ridiculous. He’d seemed so excited in his letter. Even Albus had chuckled to her about it. Had something gone wrong on his side? Was he perhaps waiting, not wanting to eject someone from their seat?

Nah. He was too arrogant for that.

Impulsively, she stood and made her way to that table. Maybe there was a note? Another letter?

“Evans!” Potter – squeaked, flailing about undignifiedly. He was always so odd around her. She despised him, but he seemed to waver between awkward and sleazy around her. Which was a pity. He wasn’t bad looking and Mary kept insisting he’d grown up since high school.

Lily didn’t really see how bullies grew up.

“Potter.” she said shortly.

“Did you, uh, want the table?” Potter stood up quickly, hands in his pockets. She could understand that. Lily hated sitting when someone was looming over her. She opened her mouth to tell him to keep the table when: “I was just waiting for someone—”

Dread encapsulated her. Dots which she really didn’t need at that moment connected. “Who?” She asked urgently.

He blinked at her. “Who?” She asked again, impatient and nervous and scared and excited and disgusted and anxious and apprehensive all at once.

“Just a, er, friend— we’ve never met before so this was the meeting place we decided – but she’s late—”

“A pen-pal?” She asked quietly. “Eff?”

Wonder took over his face. He smiled blindingly, hand lifting as though to touch her face before he put it down. “Flower?” He said quietly.

They stared at one another for a moment.

“I can’t believe it’s you—” He laughed lightly.

James Potter. James Potter. The one who’d tugged on her pigtails and dumped paint all over her and teased her about her drawing and told her she was beautiful and amazing and relentlessly persecuted Sev and partnered with her for a Science Project and won the lacrosse championship for their school.

James Potter.

Was Eff. Effermont. Who was always cheerful, had ready jokes, was arrogantly charming, a shoulder for her to cry on, and was the one person she trusted and relied on most.

Whom she was in love with.

Feeling suffocated and trapped all of a sudden, she turned. “I can’t either,” she snapped curtly, walking briskly outside.

“Hey, Evans? What – where are you – Flower!”

Ignoring the urge to stop at the final call, she jogged back home, burying the need to cry deep inside.

“I. . . Don’t get it, Lils.” Mary said, frowning. “So the pen-pal you were head-over-heels for turns out to be a guy with a great bod and an even better brain? What’s to whine about?”

Lily stared at her best friend disbelievingly. “You don’t get it? Mare! It’s James Potter! I’m in love with James Potter!”

“Yeah. So?”

“It’s. . .” Lily couldn’t help it; she got up and began to pace. “It’s so. . . Confusing, I guess. I mean. I didn’t like Potter. I still don’t like him, frankly.”

“Oh, not this again,” Mary groaned. “Come on, Lily. Haven’t you been dragging this high school feud long enough?”

“He was an asshole!” Lily raged. “He bullied Sev!”

“Who gave back every bit he got,” she pointed out. “Look, I’m not saying Potter was right to do it, ganging up on Snape and doing all those awful things to him. It was terrible. It was wrong. But. . . It was years ago. You got to know Potter in a completely new, objective way. And you fell in love with him. Doesn’t that say something?”

Lily scowled, turning away from her friend. It did. It said several things.

It wasn’t as though she’d only hated Potter, even back then in high school. He’d asked her out repetitively during that one phase. He’d managed to cheer her up with his dumb jokes more than one time. He’d been an excellent partner for that one project they’d been paired up for. He’d been the only one who could keep up with her in the Debate Team – they’d used to argue until they were breathless, chests heaving.

Knowing Potter had been exhilarating even then. He was a constantly tempestuous ride, and she’d never known which side she was about to get – awkward Potter who couldn’t string together a sentence around her, the coolly confident one who teased and argued with her, the passionate jock she’d cheer on in the field, the bullying toerag who got off on the misery of others.

He was a dichotomy. Always.

But she’d never once gotten that vibe from Eff. Could he be arrogant, condescending, disregarding of others’ feelings occasionally and accidentally? Sure. But he was a good man at heart. Lily wouldn’t have set up a meeting if she didn’t believe that.

But Eff being James Potter. . .

And she was The Unattainable Angel. She, Lily Evans! She couldn’t believe it. And she couldn’t deny that thought made her heart flutter in a way it hadn’t in years.

Her mind made the decision quickly. “Okay. Yes. You’re right.” Her heart was pounding.

“I cannot believe you said that!” Mary cheered. “The Best To-Be Lawyer and Judge in the world said I’m right! Woohoo! Where’s my phone, I need to record this.”

“Shut up.” Lily rolled her eyes, ducking her head at the compliments. “But. . . I don’t have his number. What do I do? What if he hates me? What if—”

“Lil. Chill. That guy isn’t capable of hating you,” Mary said reassuringly. “And you have his best mate’s number. Call Lupin. Ask him to . . . I don’t know, connect you with Potter.”

“Okay,” Lily breathed, rubbing at her chest. “Okay. Thanks, Mare. You’re the best.”

“I know.” Her friend smiled smugly. “Go get him, girl!”

Hey, she texted Remus.

Hey, came a text back, only five minutes later. What’s up?

Can you send me Potter’s number? She asked without preamble.

There were the three dots, indicating he was typing. Then they disappeared. And reappeared.

You really hurt him, Lily, was the final message.

She stared at it. Tapped on the screen while she figured out her reply.

I know. I want to make up for it.

There. She thought that conveyed the sentiment, even though the phrasing was awkward and not her best. She just. . . Really couldn’t think about anything. Love had that effect.

There was no reply in words – just a number. Heart pounding, she sent him a thank you before saving Potter’s number in her mobile and starting to message him.

She went through several drafts in her head before she decided he would appreciate casualness the best.

Hi, Eff, she sent. I’m so sorry about today. Do over?

As Her Floweriness commands, was the reply, setting her at ease the way only he could do. The main fountain on the school campus okay with you, Evans? Tomorrow evening, 7:00?

Absolutely. See you then, Potter.

No running away this time?

Definitely not.

And it was done. Lily rolled over in her bed, grabbing her pen and journal, an idea striking her.

There was no better way.

She sat on the fountain, watching the water spring from the funnel, tired and excited and scared. Snow fell around her, landing softly. It was only fair, Lily supposed, that she be the one to wait this time. Still. It wasn’t easy.

“Evans,” someone breathed, and Lily spun around hastily, nearly tripping into the water. He caught her, one hand around her waist and the other grabbing hers. “Easy there.”

She froze, tingling sensations spreading from the place his hands touched. She wanted to stay there forever. She wanted to rip herself away. She turned to him slowly. “Potter.”

He let go of her, stuffing his hands in his pockets, the corners of his eyes crinkling. She felt oddly bereft.

“I, um—”

“Maybe we should—”

They paused, having started speaking at the same time. Lily cleared her throat. “I. Wrote this for you.” She thrust her letter at him.

He blinked at it. “Wow.” Why didn’t he take it? Did he hate her? Did he not want it? Did he have some other idea of how this was going to go? Was he— “That’s weird. I wrote a letter for you too.” He took something out of his pocket: an envelope.

They stared at one another. She couldn’t believe they’d had the same idea. It was ridiculous. Connecting. Soulmating, if she believed in those crap romance novels Eliza liked to read. Hand trembling, she reached out to take his. They exchanged envelopes.

Lily tore her eyes from his face to the letter in her hands.

Lily-Flower,

Thanks for running away, Evans. I really needed that. Real nice of you—

Sorry about that. Just. . . Got a bit angry.

Hey, Flower. I can’t believe you’re Lily Evans. The girl I’ve been pining over like an idiot since high school. Yes, you can gasp in shock and recoil in disgust. Doesn’t change the fact that I’ve got a massive crush on you.

No. That doesn’t sum it up.

I am absolutely, utterly, horrendously in love with you.

I don’t have the way with words you do. So. . . I’m not sure how. . . I guess I was halfway there even with my friend and pen-pal Flower. Padfoot, Moony and Wormtail always used to get these looks on their faces whenever I told them about the letters. But I was too hung up on you, Evans. You were. Well. You were The Unattainable Angel after all.

First and foremost, you’re my friend. And you don’t have to be. If you never want to see me again, call quits on the letters, that’s fine. I just hope you read this. One last letter from Effermont to Flower, eh?

I guess I can tell you why I picked that name now. My mum’s name is Euphemia. And you know my dad’s name is Fleamont. It was a kind of combination of their names. Plus, it sounds a bit like effeminate – which, I know is sometimes used as a slur, but you thought I was a girl when we first began writing. It was a joke.

A mean one. I know. I thought a lot about why you ran away like that. I was angry. Hurt. Still am, honestly. But I guess I can understand. I know you, Flower. I know you pretty well. So I can understand you running away to deal with your emotions.

I just hope you don’t mind this contact.

I haven’t. . . Always been the best person. I know that. And I don’t think I would have liked the person I would have turned out to be if I had continued like that. It’s. Hard. I was always arrogant, entitled, and jealous and bullying. . . And. It’s hard to describe.

And I know you hated me back then in high school, especially when I asked you out – which was all serious, by the way. I know you thought that me making a production of it was because it was a joke. It wasn’t.

Your hating me’s your prerogative, obviously.

I suppose I understand reconciling your friend with someone you loathe is hard.

Anyway. I’m just writing this to say. . . It’s okay. Whatever you want to do.

And I am still as in love with you as ever, Lily Evans. I didn’t need you to sing in the assembly like Peeta did (I hope you appreciate me making an Everlark reference). I just am. Have been for ages. Seems, at this point, like I always will be.

Yours,

Eff James Potter

Lily swallowed. She lowered the letter, looking at Potter. His face was intent, hopeful, wary. He was obviously done with her letter, folding it over and over in his hands.

“Since high school?” She whispered. “All those times. . . You were serious?”

He huffed out a laugh. “Yeah, Lily. I really, really was.”

He was calling her Lily now, she noticed vaguely. “You said whatever I want to do, you’re okay with it,” she said.

A flash of uncertainty. “Yeah. ‘Course. I meant that. Still do.” he assured her.

“And you don’t understand from my letter what that would be?” She asked, tone slightly teasing.

“Weeeeeell. . .” He dragged out the word, smirking a lopsided grin that made him very attractive. “You could stand to be a bit clearer.”

“Okay,” she said softly, walking closer to him. She could see the way snow fell on his head, the way the droplets clung to his lashes. The way his eyes, the golden flecks in the hazel, softened when they landed on her. “I am ardently, steadfastly, horrendously in love with you, Eff. James Potter.”

And she leaned up and kissed him.

He gasped, still for a moment, before kissing back. The pressure was electric. It was comforting. It was warmth, in the snowy winter around them. His arm came up against her back, lightly pressing, supporting. Her hands trailed up to his shoulders.

They parted, saying nothing for a long moment, staring at one another softly. James cleared his throat. “You’ve – got some snow here,” he patted it off her shoulder gently, letting his hand linger, his thumb brushing her collarbone.

She shivered, not entirely due to the cold. “Ugh. I hate snow.” She complained, still lightheaded from the kissing. “I loathe the winter.”

He smiled, a small quirk of his lips. “Yeah, I know.” He took her hand bringing it up to his lips. “Not only bad things happen in winter, though.”

She felt her own face light up in response, curling her hand with his, interlocking their fingers. “I suppose not.” Lily replied. “You still can’t say anything good about the snow though.”

“She says to the snow artist. . .”

And they bickered, walking hand-in-hand through the snow.

[silkflovvers]

Guys I can’t do this, IvanTill are 20+ in canon why are all the fics of them set in a Highschool AU. Make it college AU AT LEAST, I’m begging.

[kazoosandfannypacks]

"Last Chance" by kazoosandfannypacks

Pairing: Captain Swan Rating: General Word Count: 1K Summary: Killian had been hoping to tell Emma about his feelings for her at some point this Christmas break, as their friends visited with her brother. As the holiday came and went, Killian feared he may have missed his chance. Fortunately for him, one last Christmas decoration has yet to be put away- and it may be just what they need to break the ice. Tags: au, fluff, captain swan, one shot, modern au, christmas, snowing, first kiss, oneshot, college au Author's notes: This one's based on a prompt that @everything-person sent to the discord a while back! It was probably jsut after Christmas when it was sent, and I wrote it not long after that, but it sat in my drafts for a while. After a poll revealed y'all wouldn't mind a Christmas fic in May, I've decided today would be an awesome day to post it. I hope you guys enjoy it! Shoutout to @booksteaandtoomuchtv for betaing! Taglist:@zahara@kmomof4@jonesfandomfanatic@booksteaandtoomuchtv@jrob64@tiganasummertree@anmylica@teamhook@undercaffinatednightmare@gingerchangeling@lonelyspectator@caught-in-the-filter  @ultraluckycatnd  @cs-rylie @silver-the-phoenix @pawshapedheart  [if you’d like to be added to or removed from this list, hmu in my dms or askbox!] Also on Ao3!

 Killian smiled at Emma across the room as she took down the decorations on the tree, just like he'd smiled at her when she'd helped put them up, and like he'd smiled at her when they'd helped her sister-in-law make cutout cookies, and when they'd all gone caroling and got hot chocolate afterwards, and when they exchanged gifts on Christmas morning, and when they all sat down for a Christmas dinner- and really, like he'd been smiling at her since the day he met her at a campus-wide fall festival- one that he'd almost decided not to attend; one that she'd've skipped out on if her friends hadn't dragged her along.

 But how fortunate was he that he'd gone, and that he'd somehow fallen in with her friend group there, and how readily they invited him to join them at various activities afterwards. Already they'd celebrated a few birthdays together, set up a trunk for trunk-or-treat, gone on a few hikes- and now they'd even celebrated Christmas together.

 It really was kind of Emma's brother to invite him and some of their other friends to stay over the week for Christmas. It was nice to get away from the dorms for a bit to celebrate a small town Christmas.

 It also would've been the perfect opportunity for Killian to tell Emma how he felt about her. Christmas magic in the air, blanket of snow across the town, the lights, the excitement, the merriment, the wonder- but as Killian helped her brother, David, take down the last string of Christmas lights, he realized he'd probably missed his chance at a Christmas miracle. Tomorrow they'd head back to school, back to classes and teachers and homework- back to normal.

 And, unfortunately for Killian, his normal life only involved liking Emma from a distance.

 "And it looks like another family- and friends- Christmas is officially in the books." David said, wrapping up the last string of lights.

 "Thanks for having us," Killian said.

 "Our pleasure," David said, "the more the merrier."

 "Allow me," Killian said, taking the string of lights from David, "you've already done more than enough for us."

 "Alright."

 A bright green tote labeled "XMAS LIGHTS" sat just between this room and the living room- where Emma had been taking the last of the decorations off the tree. Killian wondered if he could steal another glance at Emma without anyone noticing, but his glance revealed she was coming that way, with a string of lights of her own to put away.

 "Here," Killian said, walking past the tote to take the string of lights from her.

 "I can get it," she said, holding out the string of lights at arms length away from him.

 "It's really no trouble at all," Killian said. He stood in the doorway between her and the box of lights, and when she tried to walk past him, he sidestepped into her path. She tried again, and he blocked her again, and again, and the same result.

 She sighed as she handed him the bundle of lights. "You really are taking the fun out of this."

 "Am I?" Killian asked with a smug smile.

 Mary Margaret interrupted their conversation to yell something past them both, to David.

 "Oh, David! We still need to take the mistletoe down too!"

 Killian knew which doorway the mistletoe hung in almost too well- he'd seen David catch his wife standing there a few too many times- and it happened to be the very same doorway that Killian and Emma were now standing under.

 "No," Emma said, "I already…."

 She looked up at the ceiling almost confused, like she hadn't expected the mistletoe to be right where it had been for the last two weeks, so much so Killian almost didn't expect it to be there either. But Killian looked up too, and sure enough, there was the mistletoe, right above himself and Emma Swan.

 "This is almost too good to be true," Killian thought. Fate had given him one last chance at a Christmas miracle.

 "I thought I took that down," Emma said.

 Killian swallowed the lump in his throat- it was now or never.

 "Swan?"

 "Yeah?"

 "We're under the mistletoe," he said, trying not to chicken out as her eyes met his, "and there's this tradition…."

 "Do Christmas traditions still count after New Year's?" Emma asked.

 "I sure hope so." Killian thought.

 "The last chance of the season," he said, "may I?"

 Emma smiled and nodded, and Killian's heart skipped a beat as she said, "Yeah."

 He closed his eyes and leaned forward, meeting her lips with his for the most perfect moment of his life. Her lips touching his was like a meteor shower, or a firework- beautiful, entrancing, dangerous- and done and over with way too soon. He pulled away, smiling, wishing he could've made that moment last longer, but not wanting to push her further than she was willing to go.

 He thought his heart was beating so loud she could probably hear it, but realized instead that the sound was their friends clapping. He didn't turn to look at them though- in that moment, all he wanted to see was Emma.

 "Is that the best you got?" Emma asked.

 "What?" Killian asked.

 "It's like you said," Emma said, taking from his hands the bundles of lights that had gotten them into this beautiful mess in the first place. She threw them aside, probably landing them somewhere near the tote they belonged in.

 "What?"

 "'Last chance of the season-'" she said, "might as well make it a good one."

 She placed her hands on his neck, stood up on tiptoes so her lips were parallel with his, then whispered, "May I?"

 Killian couldn't get out much more than a nod and a breath that sounded almost like a "yeah," not even seeing this moment coming in his wildest daydreams- Emma Swan asking to kiss him.

 She slid her hands down to his collar and pulled him closer, drawing his lips down into hers in a kiss that blew the last one out of the water.

 He placed his hands on her waist, trying to experience everything he could in this moment- his lips exploring hers, her body in his hands, the lingering taste of gingerbread in her breath, a subtle pine smell, her warmth- holding her closer than he'd ever dared dream she'd let him. He was so lost in the moment he didn't even hear their friends cheering around him as he wrapped one of his hands further around her side, resting her neck in his other, pulling her into a dip and holding her as tightly as he could, pulling her even closer as he kissed her.

 For the past three months he'd been watching her from a distance, wishing he could tell her how much she meant to him, wishing he could even just take her hand, ask her to get coffee, hold her at a dance, walk her back to her dorm and kiss her goodnight. And now that he had her in his arms and had her lips on his, he had three months of catching up to do, and one kiss to do it in. Every moment spent pining from a distance equalled another ounce of passion and love he needed to communicate in this kiss.

 But as all good things have to, this kiss came to an end. Emma pulled away, her hands still on his neck, her eyes still sparkling in reflection of his, her breath still lingering on his lips. They both breathed heavily, still lost in their own little world a moment longer, until he gently stood her upright again.

 "Wow," he whispered, hoping his voice wouldn't be drowned out by the cheering of her friends around them. "Swan, that was…."

 "I know," Emma whispered, a look in her eyes that said it still wasn't nearly enough.

 But she shook her head and blinked back to reality, and he as well noticed the crowd of spectators around them. Then he looked back down to Emma, her cheeks flushed with the most perfect shade of red he'd seen that whole Christmas season.

 She smiled as she let go of him, albeit a bit awkwardly, and he watched her walk away from him, not taking his eyes off her until she'd walked out the back door and disappeared from view. The rest of the group, apparently, had decided the show was over and got back to whatever they'd been doing before Killian's life changed forever like that.

Killian ran his fingers through his hair and took a deep breath, leaning against the doorway to brace himself and his thoughts. He'd just kissed Emma Swan. He'd practically made out with her- and if he could do that, what was stopping him from finding a moment with her later, telling her how he felt, asking her if she wanted him to be something more to her.

 He smiled as he took down that fateful mistletoe plant, now filled with hope that maybe things wouldn't be so normal when they got back to school- or maybe normal would be something even better now.

 Maybe he hadn't missed his chance with Emma after all.

[quccninchains]

{☾} "Happy Anniversary," she hummed, wrapping her arms behind her boyfriend with a beaming smile. Her lips pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, giving his waist a soft squeeze. Term papers had kept her inside for most of the day, stressed and downing energy drinks like a madwoman. But she powered through it--she even had time to reply to her dad's emails.

With the stress of her day behind her, she was looking forward to a CALM night out with Jon. They'd been friends since elementary school and started dating their sophomore year of high school. Though her father had grumbled something about high school SWEETHEARTS never lasting, they seemed to have beaten his odds. Her mother, on the other hand, was perpetually supportive--always making sure to ask about Jon when they were on the phone.

She didn't care what they did tonight, so long as they were together. Clean and showered, with only a sparse smattering of make-up, and her hair curled and loose around her shoulders. She'd even painted her fingernails--BLACK of course--to prevent herself from anxiously chewing on them.

"I can't wait to give you your gifts," Alicent hummed, pulling away to lean against his side. She had spent weeks searching for the perfect gifts. A black and silver sweater that she had knitted herself--using Rhaenyra as her model. A candle for his dorm room that somehow smelled like the perfect combination of her perfume and his cologne on their first date. A set of personalized drumsticks. And of course, she had to get a new collar for Ghost. "You ready to go?" She quizzed, adjusting her bag over her shoulder.

| @zoklaanogar is getting a college verse au bc we talked about it and thought it was cute

[sabraeal]

Rarely Pure & Never Simple, Chapter 9

[Read on AO3]

Obiyukiweek 2023, Day 6: Free Day

Bright and early comes and goes with no sign of Obi.

Shirayuki nurses her morning tea at her usual place, hips braced against the sink and eyes fixed somewhere out past Nanna’s curtains. Or they would be, had any of her concentrated efforts to grow extrasensory powers in elementary school panned out the way she’d hoped; instead she’s stuck staring at ninety-percent frill, all that crocheted lace and starched lawn an impenetrable barrier to the outside, even if it only covers three-fourths of the glass. Nothing a quick bounce on her toes wouldn’t solve, but there’s no casual way to pop on tip-toe, no elegant way to stretch up over that homemade horizon that Nanna won’t immediately read as nerves.

And so she stands there with both hands wrapped around the mug, Felix the Cat tick-tick-ticking behind her. The reflection of his tail shimmers across the glass, a ghost of itself where the sun shines through. As long as she keeps her palms pressed against ceramic, it’s impossible to tell if they tremble.

But when the long hand gives one, tenuous tremble past nine o’clock, Shirayuki finally has to admit: he’s late.

“Oh, don’t wear that face,” Nanna chuckles, shuffling up to jog her elbow. And steep her own cup of tea, but that seems a secondary errand next to giving Shirayuki a hard time. “There’s no world under this sun where that boy stands you up. He’s just running a little behind, that’s all. Your father couldn’t read a clock to save his life either.”

Ah, she’d been hoping the furrow between her brow made her look serious and concerned, not…pouty. “I’m not worried about that.”

She might have been a few months ago, back when all this was new, and Obi’s interest seemed at best mystifying and at worst circumstantial. But with almost half a year under her belt, Shirayuki’s firmly aware of where she sits in the hierarchy of Obi’s personal cosmology: disturbingly close to the top, well above his own personal well-being, but somewhere just below food. Or, well, at least below Funyons.

“It’s just…what if something happened to him?” Her stomach clenches considering what sort of grim misfortune could befall him in the three miles between their houses. “You know, they say that the worst accidents happen just outside your own home. What if he—?”

Nanna clucks fondly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “He’s a growing boy, honey. The only thing that’s gone and happened to him is hitting the snooze button too many times.”

“No one presses buttons anymore, Nanny,” Shirayuki sniffs, taking a long sip from her mug. “Everyone’s got phones now, and there’s apps where you can even—”

There’s no time to inform Nanna of sleep rhythm tracking or blue light-induced wakefulness; no, she can’t even express that there’s different alarm sounds before reality frustratingly, inevitably resolves to favor her grandmother.

An ill-tempered groan is all the warning Shirayuki has before Obi’s jeep heaves to a stop at the curb. With a few more metallic grunts, it spits him out on the front walk, whole and intact, at least from where she stands. There’s a chance he might have a scratch or two beneath the thin fabric of his vintage tee, or maybe a skinned knee where the flames at the bottom of his trunks cast a shadow, but well— she probably shouldn’t hope that her boyfriend’s hurt himself, even if Nanny’s going to be unlivable over it.

“Well, would you look at that.” Grandad rests his arm right across the top of her head, squinting right over the curtain. “Positively occult, that’s what I say.”

“Oh, come on,” Nanna huffs, giving her tea a showy little stir. “That’s hardly anything at all. You should see what I can get up to when there’s a baby involved.”

“Not any time soon, I hope,” Grandad snorts, using his arm to tip her head back and remind her, “Don’t get any ideas there, pumpkin.”

Her tea hasn’t cooled a jot, but with one hand clapped to both, her cheeks are still the hottest thing in this kitchen. “Pa!”

It’s no use, Grandad’s already strutted right across to the front door, look all satisfied with himself for a joke well-executed. His hand settles on the knob for a long moment, tentative, like he’s waiting, and then with one swift turn, opens it with a flourish.

“Ah.” Obi’s hand drops from where he’s raised it, hooking it right around to scrub at the back of his head. “Good morning, sir.”

“Good morning, young man.” Shirayuki rarely pities her father, but seeing Grandad turn that grin on Obi, she understand why he might have elected for windows as the main source of entry to this house. “Are you here to pick up some precious cargo?”

“I think cargo would be better behaved.” Obi’s head cranes around the corner, gaze sweeping the kitchen it can reach. “Is Shirayuki here?”

“And waiting!” Nanna’s wrinkled hand presses against her back, guiding her right to the door, tea mug and all. “You two have a good time now. Do you need me to put that in a cup for you, honey, or—?”

“I-I can leave it.” It squeaks out of her, nervous, and ah, last night had seemed like such a good idea at the time, but now when she looks at him—

God. Even now the scrape of his voice leaves tingles racing beneath the frail barrier of her skin, like static electricity waiting to be unleashed on the nearest metallic surface. I would have come for you anytime.

Shirayuki’s cheeks are already flushed, but she could swear the next flood of heat could sear them from the inside out, like a sunburn in reverse.

“Not too good a time,” Grandad tells them, a little arch, but she can see how a smile clings to the corner of his mouth, more teasing than warning. “Don’t need to hear about any trouble after the fact.”

Nanna swats his shoulder. “Oh, really! There’s going to be a hundred kids at this thing at least. How would they even manage to get up to anything in a crowd like that?”

“You must be getting old, Nan.” Grandad hangs from the door just like Shirayuki’s seen boys lean against lockers, giving her a cheeky grin and a wink. “Can’t remember the sort of things we used to get up to when we were eighteen.”

“Oh, hush!” Pink dapples her wrinkled cheeks, and she shakes her head. “All right, off with you two. I don’t need you getting any ideas from this old lecher.”

Grandad only smiles wider as they shuffle past him to the stoop. “I don’t think they’ll need any of my help with that, dear.”

The last thing she heard before the door shuts is Nanna’s huff, that sharp cluck of her tongue before she issues a warning, “Now, Dad…”

And just like that, the sound muffles, leaving only murmurs of her grandmother’s discontent— and the high points of Grandad’s laughter. It’s not long until she hears Nanna’s too, breathless and consternated, the last bastion against his charm. Shirayuki ducks her chin down, burying her smile in her shoulder. Nanna won’t hold out long.

“Man,” Obi sighs, a laugh bubbling under his words. “They’re exhausting.”

“Tell me about it,” she agrees, tucking a chunk of hair behind her ear. It’s only just long enough for a ponytail, and the front pieces keep trying to make a bid for freedom. “I think my heart stops every time they say we might be…”

Having sex. She can’t make herself say it. Can’t even make herself look at him, not when just last night she’d taken that picture he’s sent her and— and—

Please. It’s strange how vividly she remembers the words when she hadn’t ever spoken them out loud. All of it happened strictly in the confines of her own head. I want you. I want you inside—

Fingers slide between hers, gently squeezing as their palms come to kiss. “Hey,” he murmurs, his other hand reaching up to rub at his shoulder. “We’ll do whatever you want when you’re ready for it. I don’t care about what anybody thinks but you.”

It should be easy to tell him that it’s not about other people, and it’s certainly not about what popular opinion has them do behind closed doors, but— but about her. About what she had managed to imagine last night, all on her own, with only his chest and the hint of his erection to spur her on. About what she might be ready for if there was some way to— if only she could—

But she can’t. Not when she can’t even decide what it all means in terms of, er, readiness. So instead she just squeezes back. “I know.”

She dares a glance up at him then, taking in the faint circles around his eyes, the way his hair sticks up wildly from every direction. He must have just rolled out of bed and straight into his car.

“Sorry.” He scuffs his boot shyly on the stoop before hopping down, using their tangled hands to guide her after him. “I, uh…overslept.”

Shirayuki blinks at him, concerned. “Did you forget to set an alarm? I thought that you usually—?”

“Yeah, well, kinda slipped my mind,” Obi mutters wryly, stare pointed even from just the corners of his eyes. “I kinda had a big mess to clean up right before I hit the hay.”

“Oh.” Her cheeks prickle with heat, matching the tingle up her neck, and it’s a good thing he has his back to her to open her door. She doesn’t think she would survive if he could see her too. “That, um…makes sense.”

“And let me tell you, it was an even bigger one this morning,” he continues, so casual as she slips into the seat. “After I woke up to this.”

She glances up right into his phone’s screen, open to their messages. And there it is, in gray and white, I’m stuck

“O-oh,” she breathes, whole face so hot she’s sure it’ll crack to show magma beneath. “I, ah, forgot I sent that. I didn’t think you’d…”

See it, she doesn’t say. Because of course he would; even if he wasn’t awake to get it hot off the presses, Obi would never ignore her texts. And from the way he bends down, one hand braced on the back of her seat and the other on the dash, he’s not in any mood to forget it either.

“Too bad I missed it. I would have loved to help you.” He leans close enough her eyes cross to keep him in focus. “Only would’ve been fair after you gave it to me to so good last night.”

Ah, if he keeps that up, she might just erupt, the way kids in elementary school used to tease her. You got lava for hair, they’d always say, which suited her just fine. That’s how they drew Madame Pele in the books after all, and if it was good enough for her, then—

Obi’s gaze drops down to her lips, and, oh, well, that’s enough for her higher cognitive thoughts. “Did you…?” She licks her lips, nervous. “…Um, like that?”

“Kid,” he breathes, and that’s as much warning as she had before his mouth presses against hers, capturing her bottom lip between both of his. His tongue traces the shape of it, a gentle tease, a promise. Her fingers scrabble against the center console, trying to gain some purchase before she leans in, scraping them over his scalp.

“Jesus.” He pulls back, flushed. “Just…one second. Okay?”

She has enough presence of mind to whimper out, “Uh-huh.”

Obi jerks upright then, spine stiff and limbs loose like a marionette with a poor puppeteer, the tension of his strings all tangled. He shuts her door— gallant, like always; a gentleman, Nanna would hum, too pleased— but when he crosses in front of the grille to make for his, there’s none of his usual swagger. No flirtatious winks, no cat-like prowl that makes her flush, remembering the way those muscles feel like between her thighs. No, now there’s only a sense of urgency, a scramble to throw himself gracelessly into the driver’s seat.

He coaxes the car to a cough, its frame shuddering beneath her feet, still so stiff, not even daring to look at her.

“If you were a cat I’d take you to the vet,” she says, mild. “But I think they’d just tell me you had gas.”

That gets him to blink, to swing his head toward her. “What did you just say?”

“I was just wondering if something was wrong. I mean, if you were…” She hesitates, scrolling through her mental thesaurus until she settles on, “Upset? About something?”

“Upset?” It’s not a question, but a giggle, one that doesn’t so much bubble up as purr out of his throat, and ah, that probably shouldn’t make her toes curl or stomach drop, but here she is. “Kid, I…”

It’s with a sinuous shift that he leans over the gap between them, one hand cupping her jaw and coaxing her up to him. She doesn’t need much convincing; the second his fingers brush over the soft skin behind her ear she’s already reaching up, tongue darting across the space between them. He gasps against her; she drinks it down greedily, and the groan that follows, until he—

He pulls away. Again.

This time it’s not far, just enough to rest his forehead against hers, breath scattering enticingly over her lips.

“Last night,” he hums, breathless. “That was really good for me. So good. Distractingly good. All I’ve been thinking about this morning is how I wouldn’t mind if we” —he hisses, pained, and squirms back, hands gripping ten and two— “Ah, nope, never mind. That’s…we’ll talk about this later.”

Shirayuki blinks, head too clouded to keep herself from blurting out, “Am I in trouble?”

It’s no giggle when he laughs this time, throwing the car into drive. No, that one comes from a deeper place, one that thrums at the same pitch as something just beneath her skin, turning the space beneath her belly molten.

“Yes.” The gaze he turns on her is scorching, enough that every inch of her feels burned. “A lot of trouble. But…” He clears his throat, dragging his attention back out the windshield. “That conversation is going to have to wait.”

Her mouth is so incredibly dry. “Why?”

He snorts, like it’s funny, but she sees his grip shift on the wheel. “Because I can’t drive this car and make you come at the same time.”

“O-oh.” Her thighs clench tight, but that’s not help at all, not when he’s right here. “We could pull over…?”

“Kid. As tempting as that sounds…” The look he slides her makes her skin feel two sizes too tight. “We’re already gonna be late as it is. And the last thing we need is someone speculating what we needed the extra half hour for.”

It’s a reasonable reservation; the kind she should be concerning her with. The kind she would have been, if her body hasn’t suddenly informed her it’s been over two weeks since he’s touched her, a whole sixteen days since he last put his fingers insider her, and— “I don’t think anyone would notice if we’re only a little late.”

His narrow brows pitch toward his hairline. “That so?”

“I mean, we’ve been together for a while now,” she reminds him, voice only quivering with the barest tremble. “We’re old news. I’m sure that, er…”

“A certain friend of your will have an extremely detailed estimate of just what we could have accomplished left to our own devices?” he offers, a grin tugging at his lips. “One that, might I add, assumes quite a a few very complimentary things about my stamina.”

Shirayuki deflates, defeated. “Does that…bother you?”

“That Kihal thinks I could make you taste colors? Are you kidding me? I knew I always liked her for a reason. It’s just…” His grin doesn’t exactly fade, but the mischief leeches from it, leaving it a pale shadow of what it once was. “As happy as everyone is for us, I know some people…maybe didn’t think it would fall out this way. And I don’t want to…to feel like I’m rubbing it in.”

Zen, he means. Who had thought— who everyone had thought would, ah…

“All right.” She reaches over, squeezing his knee. He jumps, ticklish where she presses in. “Let’s behave, then.”

“Fine,” he sighs. “Can’t believe I argued for this.”

“It’s because you’re a good person,” she tells him. “A good friend.”

“No, he’s the good friend,” he mutters, pulling off onto the main road. “I’m just trying to deserve it.”

*

“Well, well, well.” Kihal slinks up jeep-side, taking the cooler Obi hands her from the back. “What’s this? Twenty minutes late and looking refreshed? Wonder what you two were up to.”

“Refreshed?” Shirayuki pants as she swings her beach bag over her shoulder, sweat dripping down her back like a popsicle left in the sun. Obi may not be old enough to drink, but by the title in the glove box, the jeep was. A pity that cars tended to age in dog years. It would have been nice to have the AC on a day so muggy not even the windows couldn’t cut the heat. “That’s a…bit of a generous read.”

“What did I tell you? Complimentary.” Obi snorts softly, shutting the hatchback. “Nice to know the girl thinks I could fuck comfortably on a Slip N Slide.”

Ah, now there’s a picture. “Could you? I mean, in theory.”

His eyebrows waggle in a more certain ‘no’ than any he could put into words. “Wanna find out?”

It’s the sort of tease that should have made her stammer and flush, pressure like a hand on her neck no matter how obvious he made the joke— or it would have, only a month or so back. But now she meets his mirrored lenses and just shakes her head, stifling a giggle. Her hair doesn’t budge from where it’s plastered to her neck and shoulders. “Nope.”

“Aw, kid,” he sighs, slinging an arm around her shoulder as they step under the trees. “Where’s the sense of adventure?”

It’s a short walk to where the seniors— former seniors; or if she really thinks about it, upcoming college freshman— have made camp on the shore, coolers and camp chairs taking up the small stretch of sand where the pine cover relents. It’s packed; if there’s not all two hundred plus of their graduating class here, then it’s close, most of them spread out on towels or splashing in the shallows

“Fyi, stay away from those coolers.” Kihal points toward four hard plastic coolers the size of a car trunk, cozened up under two extra-wide beach umbrellas. “Student Council’s covering drinks— at least as long as they last in this heat— but those aren’t ours.”

“Oh yeah?” Obi’s narrow eyebrows hike over his frames. “Who’s catering?”

Her mouth curls into a sneer. “Beer Barons.”

“Beer Barons?” There’s only a few restaurants in town, but Shirayuki’s pretty sure she’s never heard of that one. “Who’s that?”

Kihal huffs, arms crossing right over the band of her bikini top. “Oh, you know, the idiots who have been stealing from their parents’ mini bars and think that makes them master thieves?”

“What?” She stares at the coolers, nearly as large as the one in the pub’s basement. “That’s all alcohol?”

“Kid.” Obi’s mouth twitches. “Did you not know about this shit? It’s all anyone could talk about for months. This must be their big finale.”

“Their parents have got to know, right?” Kihal cocks a hip, skeptical. “I mean this is too much booze to be a coincidence.”

He snorts. “Oh, they’ve known the whole time. You think all those surgeons and stock brokers couldn’t put together why their mini fridges haven’t been stocked since October?”

“Mm. Good point.” She shakes her head. “Rich kids.”

“Pot,” Obi hums, mouth curling into a smile. “Kettle. Black.”

“Hey.” Kihal whips out a finger, prodding it into his chest. “I’m comfortably upper middle class.”

“I…” Shirayuki’s mouth works, but there’s nothing to say, not when she can’t recall a single thing about it. She’d been more concerned with passing in projects and sitting in on rehearsals and the brief moments Zen would scrounge up to talk to her; it’d been easy for everything else to just blur away like some aesthetic backdrop on a Christmas card. And then she’d slipped into Obi’s car and asked for kissing lessons, and well—

Well, sometimes it felt like her whole world could be just the two of them, if she let it. Less so now that he’s going to Lyrias— no need to try to fit a whole relationship into six months when they have another four years to fly or flounder— but it’s hard not just reduce her attention down to just those moments that are him and her and the way he can make her feel.

“People have been stealing alcohol?” she squeaks out, finally, weathering the wide-eyed stares Obi and Kihal turn on her. “From their own parents?”

Kihal’s quiet for a moment before she snorts, shaking her head. “You really do live in your own world sometimes.”

*

“So…” Shirayuki sits back on her heels, surveying the rumpled edge of her beach blanket. A few more tugs and it might lay flat, but she can’t muster up the gumption when getting it this far has sweat pouring down her spine, drenching the back of her cover up. “Is there anything besides alcohol to drink?”

“Uh, yeah, duh,” Kihal chuckles, spreading her legs out in front of her. “Student Council brought a bunch of soda and some Capri Suns. Should be right over there.” Her chin swings over to where there’s a couple of chest coolers— larger than what the Beer Barons have dragged out, but not nearly as nice— sweating in the sand. “But if that doesn’t move you, your jolly giant friend brought water or whatever. That’s in the bag over there, the soft one— yeah.”

Shirayuki flips open the lid, and there it is— probably twenty or so bottles fit so snugly together the ice has no place to go but on top, scattered in the small crevices between them. Heavenly, in this heat.

“Speaking of tall drinks of water,” Kihal hums from behind her, head propped up on her towel. “How’s yours?”

She blinks down at the Aquafina in her hand. “I…haven’t opened it?”

“Shirayuki, I don’t mean” —a hand flies up to Kihal’s forehead, accompanied by a groan— “I mean Obi. Your boyfriend! The guy with the great ass!”

That gets her to jerk up, scanning the crowd until she finds him crouched over a cooler. One of the alcoholic ones, she realizes, his grin wide as Mitsuhide warms up to the lecture he’s launched into, and well— she hadn’t noticed before, but now that he’s bent down, shirt shucked and swim trunks draw tight over his, ah, backside, it’s clear that they don’t leave much to the imagination. It doesn’t help that for all the stylized flames licking up from the bottom, the top is just a grayer shade of tan, and with it pulled so taut against him…

Well, even though she hasn’t seen him without his pants, she can take a pretty good guess at what he might look like under them now. Skin tone and all.

“So tell me.” Kihal rolls to her side with a smirk. “Is he proportional, or…?”

“Proportional?” She stares down at her, confused. “I haven’t measured, but it looks like his legs might be longer than his wing—?”

“Shirayuki,” she groans. “I mean, his dick.”

Her jaw drops, so dry not even a sip of water soothes it. “I don’t— I wouldn’t know! It’s only been a few months, we haven’t even…”

Seen each other naked. That’s what she means to say, except it gets stuck in her teeth, refusing to budge. Because Obi has, hasn’t he? Between taking off her shirt and getting her off with his mouth, her nakedness is a technicality. But she—

“Really?” Kihal stares at her over the rim of her sunglasses. “I know you said at graduation that you hadn’t done anything but…seriously? He walks around looking like god’s gift to women and you still haven’t torn off the paper?”

—She hasn’t returned the favor. Every glimpse of new skin from him makes her temperature rise ten degrees, and yet here she is, with some…dickphobia convincing her she won’t like the rest. It’s silly, she knows it is, but…

But it’s impossible to explain to someone like Kihal. To someone who knows how to want things.

“I’ve wrinkled the edges a little bit,” she admits slowly, twisting the bottle in her hands. “But I’m, um…savoring it, I guess.”

Kihal huffs, but it’s not judgmental, like she expects. Instead it’s playful, accompanied by a roll of her eyes and a grin. “I should have known. You let your ice cream melt before you eat all of it too.”

“Well, but that’s better warmer!” she protests, crawling back onto the blanket. “Isn’t it?”

“It really isn’t.” Kihal gives her a fond smile before she sighs, “Fine, take your time with him. But you better report back when you have answers. We’re best friends, you can’t hold out on me.”

“I will.” Even if they might be thirty when she does. “I mean, within reason.”

“No, no reason! I want to know every freckle or whatever. I should be able to picture his dick fully formed in my mind, no—”

“If you’re so desperate to know about proportions,” Kiki drawls, dropping down beside them. “Then you should know, Mitsuhide is.”

“God,” Kihal sighs. “I knew it.”

*

There’s a point— later in the day, of course, when some of her fellow former seniors have finally stated to filter out and the crowd thins— where it all becomes a little much. Where the sun and the heat and the nostalgia starts to tire her out, making her feel faded, like she’s bleached at the edges, frayed. This may have been her first year at Wisteria High, but she’s lived in this town her whole life, walked these woods more times than she can count. She even has pictures of herself standing in front of this very lake, baby fat still clinging hard to her cheeks.

The water laps around her legs, sun sinking from afternoon to evening, and all at once, she knows: it will never be like this again. That some of these people will say their goodbyes, and they’ll be gone from her life, forever. There will be high school reunions and chance meetings at the grocery store and social media posts, but—

But this is it. The end of an era. And here’s her, sitting at the end of the dock, tenaciously trying to cling to the last of it. Lingering like if she saves a few sips at the bottle of the bottom, her childhood will never truly be over.

At least, that’s what it feels like before something tan and lean surges up out of the pond, cold water splashing all over the tender skin of her thighs.

“Hey, Kid,” it says, tossing back wet hair with a predator’s smile. “Carrying something heavy there?”

She’d love to wrinkle up her nose at him, to give him a good, honest frown the way she used to when her wayward ASM would get up to no good, but for as much as there’s chaos in that grin, there’s concern too.

“Do you remember when we last came out here?” she murmurs, looking out across the water. “You dared me to skinny dip.”

Most of Obi’s submerged, his arms folded across the dock like a bowline around a cleat, but what she can see— every bit of it goes tense. “Yeah,” he rasps out, turning his head out toward the water. “Kinda…hard to forget.”

She blinks down, practically boring a hole through the whirl of his cowlick. “Really? You were…? Even then?”

“Why d’you think I was so eager to go in after you?” he grumbles, shoulders oddly flushed. “I kinda…listen, I didn’t really get what was going on with me when it came to you, but when you shimmied out of that skirt of yours—”

“You said you weren’t going to look!”

“I wasn’t looking! I was peeking.” Obi does a little bit of that now too, though his eyes skitter away before she can catch them. “It’s different. Anyway, I figured it out real fast. Too fast! Thought that freezing ass pond water would help. Which it did. Mostly.”

Her eyebrows raise. “Mostly?”

“Well, I might have caught a nipple too. You bobbed up a little when you splashed me, and uh…” He casts her a guilty look, though not an ounce of it seems sorry. “Well, it helped with things later. On my own. More than a couple times.”

There’s a prickle of heat between her thighs, enough that she has to clench to keep her head from spinning. “So you…? To me…? Then?”

“Ah, we don’t have to talk about me.” He lets his mouth hook into a smirk. “I think we should talk about you. And how you got stuck last night.”

“Oh!” That had been a conversation she’d meant to have on the ride here, a small victory she thought he’d be happy to celebrate, but now that his cheek rubs against the outside of her thigh, casual like he’s just wiping off a drip of water from his eyes, well— “You don’t need to, um…worry about that.”

“Hm?” His lips linger against the smooth flesh of her hip. “But I have been. All afternoon. Haven’t been able to” —her breath catches as one of his hands drops, tracing over her ankle— “stop thinking about it.”

A sigh trembles out of her, thin and helpless as his thumb smooths over the skin there, so sensitive she almost squirms. “You didn’t…have to…”

“Of course I do,” he hums, playfully taking the edge of her suit between his teeth. “It’s my job to make sure that you don’t get—”

“It’s fine,” she blurts out, hardly able to hear herself over the blood rushing through her ears. “I handled it.”

His jaw goes slack, her suit snapping back against her skin. “Come again?”

“I, um…” She swallows, ever part of her tingling under the intensity of his stare. “I got stuck, but then I, ah…got myself unstuck?”

“On your own?” he asks, strangely distant.

“Ah…” She nods, hoping he can’t see the way her hands tremble in her lap. “Y-yeah.”

A grin breaks out across his face, as bright as the dawn itself. “You wanna show me?”

Shirayuki stares. “What? Now? But there’s people—”

“We can solve that.” His hands wrap around her waist; her only warning before he drags her down, pond water splashing up around her shoulders before she can think to swim.

“Obi,” she yelps, hands scrabbling for his shoulders. She manages to hook one on her own, but he guides her to the other, pulling her close enough that her feet can rest right on his thighs. The muscles tense beneath her toes, hard as the pylons that serve as the dock’s mooring, and haah, well, the water’s a little warmer now that she’s got that in her head.

“See?” he hums, one hand gripping the dock to steady them. “Nice and private.”

She’d like to argue, but there’s no line of sight to the shore from this side of the dock; she’d have to bob up to even see the other one, positioned right across the lake, and well—

“We shouldn’t,” she gasps, fingers clutching tight enough her nails leave little crescent on his shoulders. “Not…not right here. Anyone could just…just swim over…”

The arm around her tightens, and Obi’s grin smooths to something more serious. “You don’t have to, kid. If this doesn’t feel good, then I’ll tease but not touch.”

Her toes curl against the flex of his thighs, and, ah, each lap of the water makes her aware of how close he is, of how much she would like to be touched. “I…um…”

“But…” He leans in close, his grin so wicked her heart skips a beat. “I think you’re into it.”

“O-obi!” It’s hard to hold the moral high ground when she’s so flushed it’s a surprise water doesn’t boil when it touches her. “That’s not…I’m not…um…”

“We’re not going to get caught.” It’s a promise when he says it, a certainty. “But…it still feels a little wrong, doesn’t it? That we could get caught. That someone else could see me touching you, and they’d know how good you get it, how good I can make you feel.”

She hadn’t thought it was possible to tremble like this and be so hot, for her to be fully submerged and yet know that she’s wet.

“Come here.” He parts her legs, wrapping them around his waist, leaving her wide open to him and yet still hidden from view. “Now no one can even tell, even if they do look this way.”

“Obi…” It’s not a no. God, it’s not even a yes; it’s a please.

His grip tightens around the dock. “Show me what you were doing last night. I want to see it.”

His free fingers drop between them, pulling aside the strip of nylon blend that covers her, and haah, the caress of the water against her folds has her hand diving between them before he can ask again.

“Jesus.” Black eclipses gold until only a thin rim of it remains, trembling the way his arm does as he holds them steady. “Kid…”

The pond’s hardly clear enough for him to see the way she drags her fingers over herself, so slick and ready that she tumbles into his hand more often than she manages to brush her clit, but it’s— it’s working, a few strokes bringing her close enough to that painful edge that she whines, head thumping back against the dock.

“Fuck, wait,” he gasps, mouth slack. “Tell me…tell me what you were thinking about. Last night.”

“Obi.” How can he expect her to talk when every bit of her longs to be consumed, when all she can think about is that she’s empty, and she could— he could— “You.”

“Good.” His grin is insufferable, but there’s something about it that makes her gasp, that makes her think about him laying next to her, just watching as he— “What about me?”

“Your picture.” She should be embarrassed, mortified that she’s even admitting to getting off just by looking at him, but it’s hard to remember when he’s so warm under her hand, when he’s looking at her like he can’t decide whether to kiss her or devour her whole. “It was— you were— hard. I wanted…”

A lot more than she’s ready for, she knows that even now. “I wanted it to be you,” she manages instead. “Touching me. In my bed. I thought about good your fingers are, and I—”

She nearly comes right there from the way he groans, forehead resting against her shoulder. “You like that? Me touching you?”

“Yes. And I thought about how I could— how I might—” She whimpers, frustrated, chasing that elusive high round and round, but finding no relief. “Obi, I need— more, please—”

“Fuck. Yeah, okay I” —he laughs, the sound muffled in her shoulder— “I got you.”

Two fingers thrust between her lips, but he doesn’t bat away her hand, like she expects. Doesn’t take over. No, after that first thrust he slows, following the rhythm of her slower strokes, fingers pumping into her with a languidness that has her whining against his throat.

“Tell me,” he murmurs, so low her skin shivers. “What were you think you could do?”

“I”—she’s so close it hurts, her voice barely eking above a whisper— “I want to touch you.”

It’s not the pace of his thrusts or the teasing of her fingers that pushes her over, oh no— it’s his face, the way his mouth goes slack and he flushes straight down to his shoulders, every bit of him vulnerable, every bit of him wanting. A whine escapes her, threatening a keen, but he swallows it as she trembles, pulling her closer even as his fingers never still, pulling each last thread of pleasure out of her.

When she’s done, they’re adrift. Or, well, at least no longer hanging off the dock.

“Well,” Obi chuckles lowly, letting her tortured swim suit snap back into place. “You didn’t do that alone, but I think an assist counts.”

A laugh bubbles out of her as she presses her head into his neck, self-conscious. “It’s just…better when you touch me.”

“Haah.” They’ve floated shallow enough that he can stand, and he does, nearly dropping her straight back into the water. “I’m glad to hear it, but uh…” He squirms, trying to unwrap her from his waist. “I think I got to, er…”

She blinks up at him, only clinging closer. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing! Nothing. That’s was…” His mouth curves, utterly satisfied. “That was great. I just…have something I should go take care of.”

“What do you—?” Something twitches against her, and ah, it’s an answer. “Oh.”

“Yeah.” His flush has faded to pink, but it’s still there, lingering. “And unlike you, it’s, ah, a little more obvious when I handle myself. So I thought I might…”

His head jerks toward the wooded part of the shoreline, lingering just a few elementary backstrokes away.

“Oh, you mean…?” It’s far enough from the beach that she doubts anyone else would be wandering through, but still, she frowns. “In there…?”

“Yeah.” He disentangles himself from her limbs, setting her down gently. “I’ll only be a minute.”

He draws himself up, water coming just under his hips, and ah, it’s not just his butt that those trunks don’t leave to the imagination now.

“Wait.” She catches his hand. “Obi…”

“Really, kid.” His eyebrows raise, emphatic. “It’s not gonna be long. You, ah…did a good job out ther.”

“No, it’s just…” She licks her lips. “Can I…come?”

He blinks at her, eyes so wide she’s sure they’ll fall out of their sockets. “I thought you just did.”

“I mean…” She stands up too, only up to her waist here, shivering when the wind blows over her. “I’d like to see you come again. Maybe even…help?”

His breath catches. “Ah, yeah.” His fingers squeeze tight around hers. “Yeah, I think that would be, uh…fine with me.”

[corruptedplaylist]

ch 14— valentine's day shenanigans ;)

chapter 14 is up!!!! highlights: snow day fun, a little bit of gender dysphoria (ily pidge) and HUGE klance development

[incandescentlycursed]

Update: said Snowbaird How to Lose a Guy in 10 days AU exists and if anyone would be so kind as to drop a kudos or a comment (I much prefer the latter but both are beautiful) please do so <3, I need motivation for the following chapters

<a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/52041544"><strong>you bewitch me, every damn second that you’re with me.</strong></a> (6915 words) by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/shirbertsholmesburys"><strong>shirbertsholmesburys</strong></a><br />Chapters: 4/?<br />Fandom: <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/tags/The%20Ballad%20of%20Songbirds%20and%20Snakes%20-%20Suzanne%20Collins">The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes - Suzanne Collins</a>, <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/tags/Hunger%20Games%20Series%20-%20All%20Media%20Types">Hunger Games Series - All Media Types</a><br />Rating: Mature<br />Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply<br />Relationships: Lucy Gray Baird/Coriolanus Snow, Clemensia Dovecote/Lysistrata Vickers, Marcus/Sejanus Plinth, Arachne Crane/Felix Ravinstill, Crassus Snow/Coriolanus Snow’s Mother<br />Characters: Lucy Gray Baird, Coriolanus Snow, Coral (Hunger Games), Lucretius "Lucky" Flickerman, Sejanus Plinth, Volumnia Gaul, Sejanus Plinth's Mother, Strabo Plinth, Maude Ivory Baird, Tigris (Hunger Games), Coriolanus Snow's Grandma'am, Clemensia Dovecote, Arachne Crane, Festus Creed, Livia Cardew, Jessup Diggs, Lysistrata Vickers, Felix Ravinstill, Marcus (Hunger Games), The Covey (Hunger Games)<br />Additional Tags: Academic Rivals to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Pining, Alternate Universe - College/University, New York, Alternate Universe - How To Lose A Guy In 10 Days Fusion, laufey songs, Competition, Jealousy, They really love talking about movies. So many movies, literally laufey songs, non-toxic snow/lucy gray, Well maybe a little bit, Romantic Comedy, Alternate Universe - Romantic Comedy, bet trope, they are horny ass mfs, Eventual Smut, happy ending?? Be nice to me and maybe, Coriolanus Snow loves Lucy Gray, Snow is a big old softie, Covey band - Freeform, Bars and Pubs, no beta all mistakes are mine, consent!! is!! sexy!!, semi toxic but like, can you really blame them, they’ve been fighting each other for three years over grades<br />Summary: <p>Aspiring political journalist Coriolanus Snow and Grammy-nominated Lucy Gray Baird have been at odds with one another for the past three years at New York University. Ever since he laid eyes upon her rainbow leggings and red Converse, he’s been trying to take her down; whether it’s by one percentage point in a class or a particularly good point during a debate, he’s kept every win close to his chest. No doubt, she’s been doing the same — her maddening flirtatiousness, the sugary sweet conversations with subtle digs thrown in, all leading up to a triumphant, wicked grin as she shows him the most recent test results. Suddenly, they find themselves embroiled in bets neither of them can resist. If Coryo can fall in love and bring the girl to the Banquet, the biggest event of the year for all poli-sci majors, then he’ll score the summer internship with Senator Gaul that he’s been waiting for his entire life. And if Lucy Gray can find a guy to date and then break up with in the span of ten days, she can finish writing her long-awaited sophomore album and be on her way to a Grammy win — all is fair in love and war.</p><p>Or: Snow and Lucy Gray as academic rivals to lovers, as told by Laufey and How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days.</p>

[snowberry33]

just one night.

Kayn/Akali -- 1,251 words, 1/2 chapters

Warnings/tags: modern/college au, established relationship, comfort/no hurt, drinking

Akali thought that maybe, just maybe, she could get one night without her boyfriend doing something stupid and pulling on her leg to help him get out of it. She was proven wrong when her phone started vibrating at two in the morning.

Modern/College AU scenario where Kayn gets super drunk with his friends and Akali has to rescue him.

It's been 84 years but here I am. A new bi4bi m/f ship has caught my attention and now you all have to suffer through it. If you follow me on Twitter (@/creeperpit) you know I have been on my Kayn agenda for a while and I believe he is a pathetic little man who deserves love. If you disagree you are wrong.

AO3 LINK

The interruption to her sleep annoyed her enough. But if he was calling this late, it must’ve been for a reason—which became abundantly clear when his slurred speech came over the speakers.

“Heyyyyyy,” 

Akali is too tired to hide her exasperation with this man. “What’s going on?”

“I’m kinda… very… very drunk right now,” he says slowly, like he isn’t sure what he’s saying, which checks out. When she listens closely, she can make out faint party music and men speaking over each other in the background.

Of course. It’s a Friday night, and he’s a 21-year-old guy in his first year of college.

“How much did you drink?”

There’s a silence—at least, a pause. Not a single thing on the other end of the line is silent —before Kayn answers her. “...All of it?”

“What?”

“I don’t know!” he shouts, pauses, then readjusts his volume. “There were shots, and they gave me shots, so I drank them, and then there were no more shots.”

“And why would you do that?”

“Nakuri said it would be fun.” his voice turns quieter, like a toddler being scolded for coloring on the walls.

“Nakuri’s an idiot.” 

An old highschool friend of Kayn’s that followed him into the same university. Akali’s met him once or twice, enough times to form the impression that he wasn’t nearly the star student his friend was, and she’s heard enough notable stories to confirm it. 

From the other end of the line, Kayn doesn’t answer except for a murmur that sounds vaguely like an agreement. His quiet tone brings to her attention the sounds of frat boy shenanigans; they’re far away, muffled, like he’s tucked himself in some remote corner of the house to have a safe place to call her.

Akali sits up in her tiny twin bed, rubs the remnants of sleep out of her eyes, and sighs. “Do I have to rescue you?”

The words are sarcastic, as they usually are, but they carry a weight of sincerity with them. As lacking in sense as he may be, she still loves him, for some reason, and wouldn’t want him to be miserable in an unfamiliar place. Even if he fails to properly communicate that, as showed by his long sigh and simple, resigned, “Yeah”

“Alright. Give me a few.” she breathes out before proceeding to scavenge for the most readily available outfit, something that really says ‘I’m just here to pick up my drunk boyfriend, if you look at me I will seriously murder you’ and, really, just serves to cover her better than the sports bra she wears to bed. “Don’t fall asleep there, alright?”

Kayn gives a mumbled confirmation, and that’s all she needs before she’s grabbed her keys and on the road to his campus.

The effort she puts in for this man.

After the fairly lengthy drive between Akali’s apartment and the frat house Kayn had found himself in, she had to drag him out of a bathroom and through the crowd of people to get him into her car. But once he was there, he hadn’t fussed; they made it back with no problem, and no one tried to hit on her while she was there. 

Overall, she’d call the mission a success.

With an exhausted sigh, Akali hangs her keys while Kayn stumbles to keep himself on his feet. She has to stop him from stripping his shirt off in the doorway after murmuring something about being ‘hot as hell’ and leads him to her room instead. Kai wouldn’t let her hear the end of it if she found him passed out on the couch.

He’s already sprawled over her bed by the time she finishes dressing down again and nudges him over, only to receive a stubborn whine in return. She lets out a huff and shoves him with all of her exhausted so she can climb in. And as soon as she’s even got half of her body on the mattress, Kayn rolls onto her and nuzzles his head in her neck, lazily mouthing at her skin and leaving a light pink mark there. 

Akali tilts his chin up and runs a hand through his hair, a welcome touch that he melts into before leaning up for a kiss, which she gives to him gladly. The taste of alcohol shocks her a bit—stronger than she expected, but she doesn’t mind. Even if his kisses are sloppy and the taste burns, his lips are soft, and he surely doesn’t lack for enthusiasm with his hands wandering up her sides, wrapping around her waist before he pulls away with a stupidly blissful smile and presses his forehead to hers.

“You are so pretty,” he slurs while he struggles to keep his own head up—and fails, burying his face back into the crook of her neck, trailing kisses along her shoulder with light grazes of his teeth. 

Akali laughs and runs her hand through his hair, lightly scratching his scalp, like petting a cat. “Hey, easy.”

He groans in complaint, but the soft touches ease him as he nestles into her, and his breathing slows to a steady, comfortable pace. Probably the most peaceful she’s ever seen him. As soon as she’s almost sure that he’s asleep, he murmurs against her skin—although the words are barely comprehensible.

“Thank you.”

“Of course,” she whispers, with a kiss pressed to his shoulder. “I wasn’t gonna leave you with a bunch of drunk college dudes.”

He breathes in deep, takes in her scent, and sighs it back out as absolute satisfaction, warmth on her neck. She can feel him smile. This time, when he speaks, it’s much quieter, slurred together, but it’s something she’s heard from him so many times she knows it just from the movement of his lips; “I love you.”

“I know.”

“So much.”

“I know, honey.” Akali says, barely a whisper. His warmth and weight and the feeling of his heart beating against hers softens her. She lets herself sink into the moment. The sound of both their breathing washes over her. 

In the morning, he’ll probably be gone. She’ll drive him back up to his campus where he has a place, other friends, and something to make out of himself. She’ll see him off and he’ll give her the same smile he always does, warm and humorous and only slightly oblivious, and she’ll act like it doesn’t ache to see him go where she has no idea what he could do or who he could talk to until the next night like this where he calls for her rescue. 

But he called her, didn’t he? Amid his new life without her, where he probably had plenty of people to bring him home, he thought of her first. That’s enough for her to set her worries aside for now.

For now, it’s just them. Him at his most vulnerable, and her more so than she’ll ever let on.

She can’t help the way her voice wavers as she wraps her arms tight around him and mutters back into his shoulder.

“I love you, too.”

[mosylufanfic]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Flash (TV 2014) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Cisco Ramon/Caitlin Snow, Cisco Ramon & Caitlin Snow, Barry Allen/Iris West, Caitlin Snow & Iris West, Barry Allen & Cisco Ramon Characters: Cisco Ramon, Caitlin Snow, Iris West, Barry Allen, Linda Park Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - College/University, In which Iris and Caitlin are friends, Matchmaking Iris, Matchmaking, Goth Caitlin Snow Summary:

Midterm season at Central City University goes a little something like this for Iris and Barry: Clocking library hours, drinking excessive energy drinks and matchmaking single friends.

from @killervibe

[hoshigray]

Heyyy. Can I request a college au. Reader is an average, socially awkward person but somehow managed to pulled the campus heartthrob, Geto (or gojo). And he's lowkey obsessed with her and try to be fucking her every chance he gets.

𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: why not both? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ idk, felt like doing a threesome for some reason lmao

⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Geto + Gojo x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern au! college setting - sex in public places; gymnasium locker room + dining hall + college dorms - oral (m! + f! receiving) - face + throat-fucking - fingering (f! receiving) - clitoral play (swiping, grinding and licking/sucking) - face-sitting - threesome - double penetration; anal and vaginal - cowgirl dp position - anal fingering (f! receiving) - kissing/making out - protected sex (psa: warp it up or get tf up) - overstimulation - pet names (angel, baby, cutie, my love, pretty girl, princess, sweetie, sweetheart) - sato + sugu being whipped over you, hehe~ - slight humor - mention of tears and drool.

⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5.1k (pretty long for a req, lol)

“Oh, Y/n, it’s good to see you. Did you have a good weekend? Let’s walk each other to class; I was waiting for you.”

“Y/nnnn! This cold day is so much warmer now that you’re here. Let’s grab something to eat at the dining hall, okay?”

You thought college life couldn’t get any more difficult than it already is. Oh, how you were so wrong… 

Being on your own on campus was hard enough; states away from your family and having to rely on and take care of yourself while also striving for a better education. On top of this, making friends (outside of your roommates Shoko and Utahime) is such a social and excruciating chore as it’s challenging to put yourself out for people to notice you. Making small talk with your peers or talking/discussing group material in classes has your heart racing enough – not to mention trying to commit to clubs – making you feel a bit of a failure as a human being.

With that, you almost dwell on not trying at all. You’re utterly content with your inner circle with your roommates, waking up and heading to classes and back, eating college food, and sleeping after reading for a lecture. This routine of sticking to yourself was a notion you’ve grown to accept and find comfort in — no need to change it if it’s been doing you well this far.

That is until you meet them — Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru, the best friends of your roommate Shoko. 

Gojo is the star player of the school’s basketball team, a famous face among the class years, and the “disgustingly tactless, cutesy prince” of your year, as described by Utahime. By morning, he’s a dedicated student in his business administration major and history minor classes; by afternoon, he is his playful, social, and charismatic snow-haired soul, grabbing the attention of others and bringing life to those around him with his bright cadence. In addition, he’s a talented figure, capturing the hearts of many with his model work in fashion shows and playing fan-favorite roles in plays.

In contrast, Geto was a much more mellow star that pulled the hearts of students and professors alike. The raven-haired bioengineering major was a boy whose presence was easy not to notice yet quick to pull you in when making himself known. His tall, docile figure emitted an aura that accompanied the soothing tune of his voice, the perfect combination that made him trustworthy and obliging to the students around him and his lacrosse teammates. With the charming features of a heartthrob and the alluring speech of a leader, he’s someone many would turn to in search of a person to follow and praise.

Satoru and Suguru, two complete opposites – two best friends – who are, without a doubt, the twin stars of this school. However, there was one thing the two shared in common, something that made your heart skip and your mind race every time knowing this fact: the two were unmistakably and sickeningly in love with you!

How? You do not know. It all started when Shoko brought them over one night for dinner, and you saw them for a quick moment in the kitchen, quickly greeting them before rushing back into your room. Next thing you knew, you had begun to see and run into them every so often, which soon turned to at least once per day. And now, like a white bubbly puppy and a black, quietly affectionate cat, you could not shake them off you when and wherever you went.

Oh, it was something you were not used to, being sneaked up from behind by Gojo, who’d pull you in for a hug or lift you with every greeting in public (as if you weighed like nothing)! Especially in classes where Geto would surprise you with his calm voice and a warm hand on your shoulder to check if you were okay before claiming the chair next to you. And you couldn’t push them away — how could you when two of the most renowned faces on school grounds want to be around your presence!? Good Lord, it was all overwhelming, Shoko and Utahime having to step in to beat the boys into shape for making you uncomfortable.

And then there are those times when the two would butt heads with each other because of you! There have been a handful of times where if one had you to themselves, the other would bore glares to the former’s skull. Gojo would suck his teeth with his arm wrapped around your shoulder, white brows furrowed and ticked off blue eyes concealed by his dark circle shades. “Yo, Buddha with bangs, can you let go? Y/n promised to hang with me after their classes ended, and I’d be damned if you’d be third-wheeling.”

“That’s not happening, Satoru,” Geto’s hand grasps yours with more grip, royal purple eyes narrowed at his white-haired friend. “Y/n and I have a presentation to work on for tomorrow. Go lollygag somewhere else.”

Two positive bundles of life will immediately turn hostile when it comes to you, suffocating your very being as you’re stuck in the middle of them. It’s bad enough being with either of them has people notice and talk about you; it’s another thing when you’re being fought over like some small bunny between two snarling wolves. Oh God, why me!!??

But it wasn’t all bad. If anything, being fawned over by the two was a strange thing that has happened to you thus far, and not in a terrible way. Gojo has made you a lot more open and social than before, dragging you to parties he’s been invited to and to his crowded games (where he’s always sure to find you and blow a kiss). And spending time with Geto has sparked instances where you’re courageous enough to speak for yourself with a bit of a push from him, throwing in your inputs for class discussions or having him aid you in knowing your material when you two study together.

The two most popular guys in school who flatter and are obsequious over you. That in itself is enough to make your cheeks and ears dial in warmth, shielding your face in your pillows just thinking about them. You like them both, bound to be drawn in by the handsome boys and their pursuit of you.

However, their infatuation was something you’d find out goes beyond words and handholds. An obsession for you embroidered in their very minds…and bodies.

“…Mhahhh, Go—Mmmph! Gojooo…we shouldn’t be doing this…”

“Aww, c’mon, Y/n, you know I don’t like it when you call me by last name. It’s just the two of us here…Fuck, keep licking it like that…”

Sneaking into the basketball team’s locker room is one thing; sneaking in with the star player in the team with you between his legs on the bench and sucking his dick? Oh, that’s a can of worms you never thought you’d open in your entire life. 

Gojo brings his head back, banging on the locker behind him as the contact of your tongue on his pink tip sends shivers up to his shoulders. “Fuuuck, you feel so good, baby. Gonna make me cum again…” You peer up with lidded eyes as you suck his tip into your mouth, him humming at the warm sensation of your mouth swallowing his length whole. Your face is hot of embarrassment, being looked down on by him as you do such an indecent thing on him in a place of changing for men. 

This was his idea – bringing you to the gymnasium to watch him practice with his teammates for an upcoming game. Then, he pulls you aside once the guys want another fifteen-minute water break, bargaining into the men’s locker room and pulling you in for a hot kiss. Sucking on and nibbling on your lips and tongue has you mewl sweetly for him, distracted as he pulls his shorts and briefs down to expose the erection growing inside him. “Sorry, you just looked too cute watching me from the side,” he’d say with a hazy glint in his eyes shielded by his shades.

So here you are, sucking him off to the hilt, where your lips meet strands of his white pubes, making your boyfriend cum for the second time. Gojo brings a hand to your head for purchase, moaning as your hand massages his balls. “—Ahh, fuck…God, you’ve gotten so good at that, cutie. Can’t get enough of you...”

His words burn your ears, his aroused tone making your face even more hot to bear. Gosh, this was such a dangerous game; your nerves constantly on edge in hopes nobody would walk in.

However, your worries might have been what jinxed your fate because you two heard the door to the locker room open. You instantly move your mouth away from Gojo’s cock and stand to panic. But before you could, Gojo quickly grabbed you by the wrist and took you to one of the bathroom stalls. You sat on the toilet, bewildered at being dragged all over this fitness center. Then, Gojo brings his dick to your face again, and you give him the most shockingly confused expression as if he can’t hear the commotion of two people speaking where they used to be.

“Relax, no one’s coming here,” Liar, we almost got caught! He pushes the tip to your mouth, and you murmur on his length, filling your mouth and throat. “Let’s make this one quick, okay?”

You were too busy registering him place his hands on your head before he could slam himself to your mouth; the sudden thrust of his hips propelling his cock deep into the tight crevices of your throat makes you grip onto his shorts for dear life. The slap of his ruts fills your eardrums; you can’t tell how far or close the two guys who entered the locker room are. He’s making you focus on nothing but him — a selfish objection from a selfish man as he’s using you to relieve himself in the men’s locker room. God, this was such a bad situation, and yet your lower half couldn’t stop the throbs that have you shifting your thighs together. How embarrassing! 

“Hhnnn, fucking shit, your throat feels so good,”  he praises, his slender fingers massaging your scalp. Your tongue brushes the underside of his length in a way that has his pace go faster, and he has to keep his moans to a lower volume. “Shiiit, baby, I’m gonna cum…Take it all in…!”

You have no choice but to, forced to gulp down all of his load that he spills into your tight, warm throat. He still rocks his pelvis into you until every pump of his jizz is inside you. When your ears pick up the sound of the locker room door opening and closing with the dismissal of the two strangers, that’s when Gojo takes his long shaft out of your mouth, spit connecting from your tongue to his cockhead is wiped with haste. 

But then, Gojo pokes your cheek with his tip, a sign that he wants to go again. You throw quiet pleas, “N–No, Gojo! You have to get back to practice—“

“Shhh, those guys can survive a few games without me. And besides,” he gently slaps your cheek with his cock. How vulgar! “I’ll fuck your mouth til the end of the day if you don’t stop using my last name when it’s just the two of us here.” The playful grin on his lips doesn’t make that threat any better. “One more time, please?”

With hesitant eyes, you place kisses on his shaft while stroking him. “Only one more…okay, Satoru?”

He beams with the dimples of his cheeks. “Yes, pretty girl~.”

And it doesn’t stop there — because Geto is no better. 

“Aww, you two are so cute together~”

You squirm on the booth seat you’re sharing with your other boyfriend, you two sitting across from his friends — a senior couple he shares a lab with that invited him for dinner. Unsurprisingly, you were his plus one, knowing you’re not one for being around people you’re not familiar with. And yet here you are, caged by the wall and Geto’s frame to keep you in this conversation on the side of the busy dining hall.

Geto chuckles before brushing your cheek, "Aren’t we? But they’re the cutest thing to me.” He says as he places a swift kiss on your cheek; it’s an action that has your face grow in warmth — and the couple “awwing” at his affection.

The guy of the couple speaks to the dark, long-haired other. “I never knew you were one for relationships, Geto; you seem so busy with Bio and your clubs that you don’t seem to have time to lay low and be with someone.”

“Mmm, I thought so, too. That is until I met Y/n through a friend of mine,” you jerk at the silent touch of his pinkie grazing your thigh, noting it had sneaked under your skirt to graze its skin. Your eyes peek in his direction, finding that he remains eye contact with the guy he’s talking with. “And, you know, I got to know them here and there, shared some classes with them on the side. Now, I just can’t imagine them being out of my line of sight.”

The guy across laughs. “Sounds kinda obsessive!”

Geto shrugs with a chortle. “I guess it’s like that, I don’t know. I’m just really crazy about them; they’re my sweetheart after all.”

“That’s so sweet!” The girl senior across exclaims, turning to you to ask, “So, how long have you and Geto been a thing, Y/n?”

The question has you stumped for a bit as you weren’t ready to be thrown inquiries. And before you answer, you feel Geto’s hand rub on your thigh. “U-Umm, me—ahem—Geto and I have been a couple for quite a while now? My roommate was the one who introduced me to him—Mmmm!” You briskly flatten your lips at your squeak because the fingers inside your skirt pinch your skin. On command, you spread your legs for Geto to insert his hand inside your panties.

The girl asks more questions. “Oh? So, your roommate brought you two together. Did you know of them before?” 

“Well, not really…She and Geto—Ohh!” You bring your hand to your lips at the graze of Geto’s forefinger on your clit. You turn to him and are immediately locked into his violet gaze. He lifts a brow with an undisturbed smile, and you gulp. “I–I mean, Suguru and my roommate have been best friends since high school, so I kinda got…Nnmm,” you chew your lips when he bullies a digit between your folds to play and tease. “She was the one who introduced me to him…”

“Is that so? Hehe, it’s amazing how the world works, huh?” You listen, but your mind is too focused on Geto’s digits swiping and nestling across your wetness to have your body more excited about his touch. And it gets worse as he inserts his forefinger inside your vagina, causing you to jolt and suppress your mewl by leaning into his shoulder, gripping onto the sleeve of his turtleneck. “Here are two lovebirds all lovey-dovey with each other thanks to one friend bringing them together. It’s crazy imagining you two would’ve never met hadn’t that happened.”

Geto hums at that comment, “I agree; I have to thank Shoko for bringing this little angel to my arms.” He places a soft kiss on your forehead, completely nonchalant compared to the quickened pace of the digit scraping your insides. “Isn’t that right, my love?”

With trenched brows and a shaky breath, you try to reply to the awaiting couple. “Mhmm, yes, I’m so grateful that Suguru is in my life…He’s been such a help to me,” his forefinger goes slow, having you feel every dent and knuckle. “Hahhh, he’s so good to me, and I love him just as mu—Mmmph!!”

“Hmm? Are you okay, Y/n?” How can you tell the guy across from you that your boyfriend’s thumb just surprised your clit with a swipe?  You’d rather melt on this floor had you not buried your face into Geto’s shoulder. 

Speaking of who, he takes the initiative to answer for you. “I think they’re a little parched, must’ve been this lemonade I got for them. I’ll go get them some water—“

“Oh, no, no! I’ll go get the water; I was gonna get more of those garlic knots anyways.” The girl stops Geto from moving, sliding from the booth seat with her boyfriend’s hand to follow suit. “C’mon, let’s leave these lovebirds for a bit. We’ll be right back!”

And so they leave, thanking your lucky stars. Once their figures are nowhere to be seen within the sea of students, you probe the man with a trembling whimper. “Mmmph, Suguru, please, take it out before—Ahhh…! They come back…”

Luckily, he listens to your request with no argument, withdrawing his digit from your wet slick and underwear. And to your horror, he brings the finger to lick and suck and says with a dark look, “Just checking to see what I’ll be having later.”

It doesn’t matter wherever or whenever; Gojo and Geto will be sure that their love for you is expressed to you every chance they get. 

It doesn’t matter the day or hour, whether you are free from assignments, spending time with your roommates, or on your way out to study; those two will find a way to get to be with you. And, to be honest, it can be a bit overstimulating! 

When there are dates to the movies with Gojo, there’s private alone time with Geto on his bed as he eats you out. And when there are days when Geto holds hands with you and walks you to your classes, there are nights when Gojo will fuck you til his cock is warmed inside you in his slumber. It can go either way, the two competing for your affection and time when the other is out of sight. 

Again, sometimes it’s overwhelming for you, never knowing which of the two will have you all to themselves, nor knowing when you can have time to yourself! And it’s not like you haven’t tried putting your foot down to express your wish to be alone. But, albeit it can be utterly exhausting, you know those two love and cherish you so much that it drives them crazy. Hell, it’s driving you crazy just how much they can’t keep their hands off you! 

Especially now when they drag you to their shared dorm room, experiencing one of those days when the two wish to have you in the same presence. 

“Hahhh, damn, Y/n…you’re sucking me off so good,” Geto purrs with a whistle while lovingly patting your head. “So good for me, huh, sweetie?” 

The two stripped you off your clothes to be nude with them on the bed. Your naked frame straddles above Gojo, lying on his back with his face buried into your bare cunt for his mouth and tongue to please you orally. Meanwhile, you suck on Geto’s girth as he leans on the pillows and headboard. It’s his turn after sucking off Gojo (they settled this over rock-paper-scissors) and fingering you to warm you up first.

You whine of his member, Gojo’s tongue doing wonders on your delicate body. He licks on your clit just as you lap yours around Geto’s glans, and then he’ll suck your pearl right as you take in the tip with pursed cheeks. It’s such a mutual shared experience, with how Gojo’s hands wrap to your thighs to keep your chasm on his lips while you have Geto keen to your mouth and hands stroking him. 

“—Khhhh, Jesus Christ…Hohhh, right there, sweetie…” The raven-haired one coos as you kiss your way down to his balls to suck one as you continue to jerk him. “Heh, you doing good down there, Satoru?”

The snow-haired other removes his mouth from your folds, licking your essence that sticks to his lips like honey mixed with his saliva. “Hahaa, you have no idea. I could stay like this for hours,” his tongue licks your come to your clit tantalizingly slow, evoking you to almost choke on Geto’s girth. “Aww, look at you trying to move from me,” Gojo brings your hips back down to him for him to swirl around your labia, his grip on your thighs refusing to submit. “Don’t go anywhere, princess; I’m not finished until you cum on my face again.”

“Ohhh, shit, keep doing what you’re doing, Satoru,” Geto subtly bucks his hips, “I love the way they’re whining on my dick…”

With your puffy lips being busy in the front and your cunt being lapped and nibbled on from below, your senses are clouded by the two boys who seek nothing but your participation in experiencing pleasure. Your head gradually turns into mush with every rut to your throat and every lap around your clitoris. It’s to no surprise that your release seeps out of your body without preparation, crying on Geto’s length as your frame quivers in euphoric bliss. 

And if you think you couldn’t get swamped enough, think again. 

“—Nnngh, fuck, Y/n, you’re gripping on my dick like crazy…Hehe, is it because you can’t look me in the face? Damn, you’re such a cutie…”

Your face is nuzzled in the crook of Gojo’s neck as you’re straddling on top of him, your nude, sweaty bodies melted together to share heat. Your hips bounce up and down on his pelvis, where his rubber-covered length is scraping the walls of your vagina. His left curve grazes and jabs your sweet spots, and your body lies on top of Gojo, which brings more friction to your clitoris. 

“Hahhh, ahhnn—Ohhhh!” Your phrases have doubled down to that of whimpers of pleasure, thinking straight is impossible, and your mind is too deep in a haze to focus on anything outside of what’s happening. And it’s not like you can’t stop your hips from bouncing on his shaft — you’ve tried! But the moment your legs express so much as reluctance or fatigue, Gojo’s hands are right there on your ass to guide you back into the rhythm. So it’s expected when you climax on him once more, clamping onto him as you ride out another orgasmic wave. “Ahhaaa! Sa’toruuu, stooohhp—hic…! I’m ‘oo sens' tiveee!!” 

“You say that, but—hnnn! You’re rocking those hips of yours on your own, baby.” He chuckles at your slurred speech, placing kisses on your cheek as his hands massage your asscheeks. “Holy shit, you feel so unreal; wanna fuck you raw so bad with how tight you are.” 

“Don’t even think about it, Satoru,” you hear Geto’s voice from behind, the dent of the twin-size bed shifting with his added weight. “If I can’t go condom-less, you’re not getting any special treatment out of it either.”

“Psssh, yeah, yeah,” Gojo says with rolled azure eyes before he whispers to your ear. “Come on, angel, let’s get you prepped up.” The white-haired boy’s hands spread your butt, exposing his dick buried deep into your tight slit and your taint.  

Geto grins salaciously. “My, what a dirty sight for me, my love.” You chew your lips to his words, the heat in your ears causing them to ring. You then feel his fingers smothered in lube to meet your asshole, spiraling around it before inserting them one by one. Your holes instinctively contract, making Gojo hiss. “Relax, pretty girl,” he kisses your temple. “We’re gonna make you feel so good.”

You remind your figure to calm down, allowing Geto to play with your anus for it to accommodate the next foreign limb he’ll put inside. Gojo keeps kneading your butt, but he throws furtive thrusts up to your chasm to keep you on your toes. You gasp when Geto removes his digits suddenly, and now you bite your bottom lip at the contact of his cockhead touching your puckered entrance. “Stay calm for me, princess. Gonna go slow just for you…”

Breathing with your mouth is the only way you can function through his insertion; even after he properly lubed himself and the rubber, it never fails to amaze you how you’ve been able to take in his girthy dick times before. Every inch pushed inside you feels as if your breath is pulled away, feeling both your holes become occupied. And your head goes up at the snap of Geto’s pelvis smacking on your ass, mouth agape for drool to sneak down puffy lips. 

“Heh, there you are,” Gojo licks your spit before placing a kiss on your lips. “What a pretty face when you’re going dumb on our dicks, Y/n.”

You couldn’t even reply in modesty because Geto immediately goes pounding your ass with hunger. Your wails come out freely at the pacing of both boys propelling themselves into you. And it doesn’t help that your holes don’t stop contracting on their dicks as they push, the motion making you move your clit against Gojo and having your sore nerves active again. 

“Holy fuck,”Geto drills his cock into your taint, grinding his hips into you to make you whine aloud. He then bends to kiss your sweaty shoulder down to your spine. “You’re so tight, Y/n…like you’re gonna milk me dry.”

Words are exhilarated squeaks and shrills, your arms coming around Gojo’s neck and pressing your hot cheek on his. He snickers at how touchy you are, “Hey, baby,” he coaxes you through the onslaught of ruts that quicken in tempo. “God, you sound so fucking cute, angel…” 

“—Ahhahh…! Ohhh, guysss, pleaseee, slow d—Owwhhnn!!” You cry, eyes watering with the pokes and jabs on your velvety insides, the curve of Gojo scraping you in places you can’t reach, and Geto’s girth having your backside completely stretched for him. It’s all too much to focus on as your delicate bud is pressed on by your weight. “…Nhooo, God, I’m gonna—“

“Gonna cum, cutie?” You nod hurriedly, amusing Gojo for more chuckles. “Let’s cum together, yeah? Such a pretty girl…” And then, Gojo claims your lips for a steamy, passionate kiss, bringing a hand from your bottom to place behind your head to keep you on him. 

“—Hnngh!! Wait, sweetheart, don’t clamp onto me so sudden—Ohh, shit, shit, shiiit,” Black hair strands fall from Geto’s shoulders as he falters at your grip. “Gonna cum, too….Gahhh—“

Your crescendo is the first to appear, howling and mewling into Gojo’s lips while your trembling figure undergoes the shocks of the deep penetration on both ends. The fluttering sensations of your cunt and anus are what prompt the two men to spill their load into you simultaneously, groaning with pleasure from your body. Your head is undoubtedly dizzy, your brain spiraling with impulses as your frame jerks with every wave of your orgasm. 

After his climax is done, Geto slowly withdraws his cock from you. The condom filled with his essence. “Phew, that felt way too good.”

“For real, can’t get enough of this.” Gojo sighs while groping your asscheeks and kissing your forehead. “Ready for another round, baby? C’mon, let’s switch before Suguru gets all crybaby on us.” His sweet tone immediately flips to narrow his eyes at Geto for throwing his used, tied condom at Gojo's face for that comment. “Oh, you disgusting son of a bitch…”

“Shut up and switch, or else I’ll have you watch me pound Y/n for fifteen minutes.”

Being loved and obsessed by the two heartthrobs of the school is no easy work, which is evident when you can’t even get to nap by yourself after the sexual activities. With Gojo spooning Geto while he spoons you, there is no rest with these two; they might as well put collars around their necks and give you their leashes with how smitten they are to be around you.

Yet, at the same time, you don’t hate it — far from that. Because you know their feelings for you are genuine, you can see it in their sleeping faces as they’re probably thinking about you in your dreams as you observe. With a smile, you place kisses on their cheeks and silently leave the bed to use their shower. 

The warm water is just as welcoming and temperate as their love, keeping you safe and washing your anxiousness away. In your thoughts, you reflect on all the times you’ve grown because of them, and it goes to show that their involvement has done substantial help for you. And for that, you are forever grateful for them and will always reciprocate their feelings as you feel the same. 

“Hey, Y/n.”

Well, minus the immediate sense of apprehension that skyrockets once you hear Geto’s voice come behind you. You turn to see his naked self coming towards you to wrap his arms around your waist. “Suguru!? I–I thought you were sleep—“

“I was until you left my arms,” he says to your ear with his dulcet voice, his hands kneading the flesh of your wet hips. “Besides, saves us a lot of time if we share the shower, right?”

“Oh, Y/n~,” another voice enters the bathroom, and your dread plummets even further when Gojo opens the curtains with glee. “Don’t tell me you decided to shower without m—…Oh, you’re here, too.”

“Obviously,” Geto sucks his teeth at his roommate. “I live in this apartment and use this same shower, dumbass.”

Snowy eyebrows crease with irritation as Gojo enters the walk-in shower, sandwiching you between the two. “Well, don’t you think it’s rude for you to use the shower when our guest is using it first?”

“I could be asking you the same thing because who told you to come here?”

“Duh! I’m here to shower with my lover; are you stupid?”

“Are you? Don’t you see a boyfriend is trying to have some alone time with their partner?”

“Oh, eat horse shit.”

“Croak and die.”

You can only stand there and be mushed by the two tall boys arguing over you, unable to flee the scene as they both have their hands on you. Again, you don’t hate it at all. You love them just as much as they love and adore you. They may be the school favorites; however, you are the most precious thing they wish to engage with and want to keep to themselves.

…But would it kill them to give you some room once in a while!?

Jesus, how am I gonna survive with these two…

requests/thirsts are open hehe~ 🧸

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header edit done by me + dividers by @/benkeibear.

[songbirdreaped]

tag drop, for my purposes.

[oddinary4bts]

Chasing Cars | Masterpost (jjk)

☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?

☆status: on-going (next update: August 30, 2024)

☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader, Hoseok x female reader, Namjoon x OC, Jin x OC, Jimin x OC, Taehyung x OC and others.

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, some chapters have mature content)

☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff

☆total word count: 218.5k (lmao my fingers slipped)

☆a/n: I got the idea for this fic just a little over a year ago, following a power outage that lasted for a few days where I live and Jungkook's live where he kept coming back with different outfits (the white dress shirt hit me right in the gut). It took me a long time to write, as I was working on multiple other projects at the same time, but I am so so happy to be ready to share this baby with you guys <3

☆Thank you to @moonleeai and @jessikahathaway for beta-ing this monster <3 (and for all your encouragement and support)

☆And a special thank you to @wintaerbaer and @btsborahaee for encouraging me and supporting me whenever I screamed to you about this fic

☆add yourself to the taglist here!

☆discord server link here!

☆☆☆☆☆

If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol

☆☆☆☆☆

➳Teaser (Jungkook pov): the day he met you (1.1k)

You fucking touch her, you're dead.

➳Chapter one: when the Incident happens (11.8k)

Jungkook is Tae's best friend.

➳Chapter two: when Jungkook teases you (10.2k)

You know I hate that nickname.

➳Chapter three: when Valentine's Day happens (13.1k)

You know, Taehyung doesn’t have to know everything.

➳Chapter four: when you and Jeon Jungkook clash (9.5k)

I was just going to say that we should keep this between us.

➳Chapter five: when you have to go back to reality (12.1k)

We just pretend nothing happened, no?

➳Chapter six: when Jungkook hosts his friends over (9.6k)

I really want to kiss you right now.

➳Chapter seven: when doubt makes you question everything (15k)

Why do you want to believe the worst of me so bad?

➳Chapter eight: when secrets are unveiled in New York (13.5k)

I want you.

➳Chapter nine: when a party makes Jungkook jealous (11.2k)

You make me insane.

➳Chapter ten: when time slips through your fingers (10.1k)

I don’t want to lose you, peach.

➳Chapter eleven: when Jungkook visits Taehyung in Paris (8.4k)

Can’t wait for you to be back.

➳Chapter twelve: when it breaks (7.3k)

I can’t be with you.

➳Chapter thirteen: when it's too late (8.9k)

I have to talk to him.

➳Chapter fourteen: when the truth comes out (12.2k)

We never told each other how we felt.

➳Chapter fifteen: when you find your way back to Jungkook (7.4k)

You came?

➳Chapter sixteen: when Jungkook takes you out on a date (8.9k)

I think I was waiting for you my whole life.

➳Chapter seventeen: when forever awaits you (9k)

Getting to love you is the most beautiful thing that’s ever happened to me.

Drabbles in Jungkook's pov (might add more as the story goes on)

➳Chapter 1.5: the first party (1.6k)

Then why are you bringing him home, peach?

➳Chapter 3.5: Valentine's Day (1.1k)

We should have hung out like this before.

➳Chapter 4.5: a walk through campus (852)

You love it, peach.

➳Chapter 5.5: the return to reality (2k)

You wanted to talk?

➳Chapter 6.5: hosting his friends at the apartment (4.4k)

What the fuck is wrong with you?

➳Chapter 7.5: when he realizes (2.5k)

Isn't she Taehyung's sister?

➳Chapter 8.5: the engagement party (6.6k)

Have fun while it lasts.

➳Chapter 9.5: jealous jungkook (3k)

Shouldn’t I prove to you that you’ve got nothing to worry about?

➳Chapter 10.5: the morning before Paris (1.7k)

I promise I'll come back to you and make it work.

➳Chapter 11.5: the kiss (1.2k)

Just this once.

➳Chapter 12.5: after losing you (4.6k)

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

➳Chapter 13.5: returning home (4k)

What am I supposed to do?

➳ Chapter 14.5: losing you again (3k)

I can't believe you've been wearing the necklace

➳Chapter 15.5: a conversation with Taehyung, and his reunion with you (2.6k)

It’s never been like that with her.

☆☆☆☆☆

All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2024. Do not copy, repost or translate.