#so if you liked this or any in the au series

[eternalguk]

Pink Hearts & Black Clouds || jjk. — 01

Love me at my lowest, I’ll love you when you’re barely holding on

↠ Pairing : Jungkook x Reader

↠ Summary : Jeon Jungkook is the epitome of a brooding grunge. Moody, distant, and always a little too sarcastic. A grumpy, tattooed college student who barely tolerates anyone… except you. Somehow, the girl who’s a whirlwind of pink hearts and strawberry lipgloss is the one who keeps dear Jungkook on his toes.

But you must admit… behind that gruff exterior, there’s a side of him only you get to see—gentle, caring, and ready to spoil you in his own way. Everyone else may see him as the tough guy with a permanent scowl, but you know better. Jungkook’s heart? It’s all yours.

↠ Genre : established relationship au, college au, grunge!bf x bimbo!gf, angst, fluff & smut

↠ Word count : 3.8K

↠ Warnings : swearing, making out, teasing, exhibitionism (sex in a lecture theatre), unprotected sex, penetrative sex, rough sex, slight dumbification, dirty talk, begging, oral sex (m. receiving), ass smacking, scratching, dom!jungkook x sub!reader, use of pet names, sex on a desk (he hits it from the back at one point), a very moody but flirtatious Jungkook paired with bimbo!oc deserves its own warning :) - I think that’s about it?

↠ A/n : Hi there ; here it is! Chapter 01 of my first series, ‘pink hearts and black clouds’ which I am so excited to share. This story means a lot to me as it explores two completely different personalities finding their way together. With bimbo, sunshine!reader and grunge, grumpy!jk, I hope you enjoy exploring this world as much as I loved creating it. It’s messy, it’s fun, it’s emotional, it’s steamy (at times 👀) and it’s absolutely everything I could ask for! I’d love to hear what you think - your reactions, favourite part, or even anything you’d like to see from them in the future! Feedback / comments are always appreciated. Thank you for giving my story a chance & happy reading 🦢.

↠ Song : ‘Closer’ by Jungkook / ‘Good for you’ by Selena G

❧ Chapter 01 : Lipgloss & Leather

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A stream of light filters through the wooden, venetian blinds of the lecture theatre windows, slicing through the warm, cinnamon-scented air.

God bless Ms. Choi for her diffusers.

The ambience of the empty theatre is a sharp contrast to the wintry chill that is dancing around outside. The time of season where it bites at your cheeks and refuses to let go. Inside though, the warmth feels like a holiday cocoon, the kind that makes you shed layers and forget the frost clinging to the world beyond your surrounding.

Unfortunately, despite the serene atmosphere, you don’t feel any less distracted.

You are perched in a chair at the back of the theatre, mindlessly playing with your pink glitter gel pen while Jungkook sits on the desk in front of you, legs spread arrogantly, one boot perched on the seat beside yours. The light catches on the silver chain hanging from his neck, a stark contrast to his black t-shirt and ripped dry-denim jeans.

You should be focusing on taking notes for the upcoming midterm, like he told you to do, but instead, your eyes keep wandering back to the powerful man in front of you.

Powerful because he consumes your entire being.

You pout as you swirl a strand of your hair around your finger, oblivious to the smirk curling on Jungkook’s lips as he catches onto your little daydream.

“Not taking notes, princess?” he asks, tone dripping with mockery.

“Erm…” you blink at him, momentarily caught off guard. “I was… thinking?”

Jungkook cocks an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching. “Thinking. Right. About the syllabus or about how good I look right now?”

Your cheeks flame as he leans forward, chin propped lazily on his tattooed hand. His dark hair falls messily over his face, making him look even more impossibly cocky.

“Both?” you meekly offer, putting down the glitter pen and propping your chin onto your soft hands.

His grin stretches wider. “You’re cute when you lie.”

You smile at the compliment as Jungkook reaches out and grabs the gel pen from the desk, inspecting it like it was the most interesting thing in the world. The sight of his tattooed fingers gripping the sparkly pink plastic makes your heart race.

“Why do you even need this?” he teases, holding the pen just out of reach when you try to grab it back. “It’s ugly, you definitely don’t use it to write anything down and it’s pink.”

Jungkook grimaces, observing the pen as though it’s a foreign object.

You huff and pout harder, crossing your arms. “You said you’d help me study, but all you’re doing is being mean!”

“Mean?” Jungkook cackles, the sound low and gravelly. “Doll, I’m just keeping it real. Someone has to be with you.”

“Ugh, you’re the worst!” you whine, trying again to snatch the pen, but Jungkook is faster. He swiftly moves it behind his back, staring you down with his usual, conceited smirk.

“And yet, here you are. With me.”

“Because you don’t let me leave,” you shoot back, a small huff escaping as you try your best to appear annoyed.

But you aren’t. Not even a little bit.

Especially when Jungkook leans in even closer, his dark eyes scanning your face like he is trying to memorise every detail.

“C’mere,” he says softly, contrasting his suddenly serious expression.

You blink up at him, your heart fluttering. “Why?”

“Just come here, doll. Trust me.”

You hesitate for half a second before leaning forward, and that is all the invitation Jungkook needs to grab your chair and yank you forward, placing you between his legs. Your breath hitches as he cups your face in his hands, the rough pads of his thumbs stroking your cheeks.

“You’re too fucking pretty, you know that?” he murmurs, his voice so low and intimate that it sends a shiver down your spine.

“Jungkook…” You trail off, feeling utterly flustered and ridiculously warm under his intense gaze.

“What?” he questions, cocking his head playfully. “You don’t like compliments? Want me to call you dumb instead? You like that, huh?”

“N-no!” you stutter, and the way he leans in closer makes your head spin.

“That’s what I thought,” he says with a smirk, brushing his nose against yours. “My good girl likes being told she’s pretty.”

Your heart thumps loudly in your chest as his lips find yours, the kiss starting soft but quickly turning hungrier. Jungkook kicks your chair back before tugging you impossibly closer, his hands sliding down to your waist.

“Fuck, you taste sweet,” he mumbles against your lips.

“Strawberry lip gloss,” you utter, still fairly dazed.

He hums appreciatively, a smile now evident on his face. “My favourite.”

Jungkook’s hands slides lower, squeezing your hips as he deepens the kiss. You moan softly when he nips at your bottom lip, his pierced tongue sweeping over it a second later.

The sound of the theatre door creaking open in the distance makes you freeze.

The wind.

“Jungkook!” you hiss, pulling back slightly. “What if someone comes in?”

Jungkook grins, completely unbothered. “Free show?”

“You’re impossible!”

“You love it,” he teases, his lips brushing the corner of your mouth. His hands tug at the hem of your short pink skirt, hiking it up higher as his fingers toy with the edge of your lace underwear.

“Ahh, is this the pair I got you the other day?”

“Jungkook…” you mewl, voice barely above a whisper. You manage a quick nod, before falling to rest your head on Jungkook’s shoulder.

“My doll is always so needy,” he grumbles, his dark eyes locking with yours. “But I don’t mind.”

Jungkook continues to fiddle with your underwear, his hand slipping inside to cup your now soaked sex in his rough hands. “Nice and wet.”

You squirm in his grasp, your cheeks burning as he presses another kiss to your neck, nipping the sensitive skin until you gasp.

“Relax, baby,” he whispers. “I’ve got you, I promise.”

And with that, you give in - like you always do with your lover boy.

“Get on the desk.”

Your heart races as you turn toward the heavy, wooden desk behind you. It feels cold beneath your palms as you hoist yourself up, the sound of your skirt rustling loud in the quiet space. Jungkook watches you intently, his eyes darkening as you settle onto the surface, your legs dangling over the edge.

He steps closer, his hands sliding up your thighs, pushing the hem of your skirt higher.

“Look at you,” Jungkook whispers, his voice dripping with approval. “So pretty. So perfect for me.”

You shiver, your hands gripping the edge of the desk as his fingers trace patterns on your skin. Jungkook’s touch feels electric, sending sparks shooting through your veins.

“J-Jungkook—” you stutter, your voice shaky.

“Shh,” he interrupts, his voice firm but gentle. “Just relax. Let me take care of you.”

Your boyfriend's words send a wave of warmth washing over you, and you let your body sink into the desk as he leans in, his breath hot against your neck. You feel the stubble on his jaw brushing against your skin, the faint scent of his woody cologne filling your senses.

“The way you give in,” he begins, his lips grazing your ear, “is fucking beautiful.”

A soft whimper escapes your glossy lips as his hands move higher, pushing your skirt up to your waist. His fingers hook into the waistband of your panties, and you gasp as he tugs them down, leaving you exposed.

Jungkook is quick to toss them onto his discarded leather jacket draped over the chair beside him. The delicate blush of your pink panties against the rugged, worn leather is a stark contrast that sends your mind spiraling.

“Stunning,” he utters to himself, eyes roaming over your body with a hunger that quickens your pulse.

Why the fuck is this man so hot?

You squirm, cheeks burning with embarrassment, but Jungkook doesn’t give you time to think. Not that there was much going on up there anyway.

His hands grips your hips, pulling you closer to the edge of the desk. He wraps your delicate legs around him, engulfing you in his embrace.

“As beautiful as you look like this,” Jungkook mutters, caressing your cheek, “I need you on your knees.”

You’re quick to comply, gently shoving Jungkook away. He cackles at your eagerness, but deep inside his brooding heart, he feels at awe.

“Open your mouth,” he commands, quick to change personas, voice rough with desire.

Again, you obey without hesitation, your lips parting as he unzips his jeans. His cock springs free, already hard and straining, and your eyes widen as he steps closer, the tip brushing against your lips.

“Suck,” he orders, his tone leaving no room for argument.

You hesitate for only a second before leaning forward, taking him into your mouth. His taste is salty and masculine, making you moan softly as you begin to move your tongue, your lips wrapping tightly around his girthy member.

Jungkook groans, his hand tangling in your hair as he guides your head up and down. “That’s it, doll,” he encourages, his voice thick with pleasure. “Take all of me.”

You sink deeper, gagging slightly as he hits the back of your throat. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, but you don’t stop, determined to please him.

“Such a good girl,” Jungkook effortlessly praises, his grip tightening in your hair. “You were fucking made for this.”

The words send a jolt of heat straight to your core, and you moan around him, the vibrations making him shudder.

“Fuck,” he curses, his hips jerking forward involuntarily. “I’ll be painting your face with cum if you keep that up.”

You pull back slightly, looking up at him with wide, innocent eyes. “Isn’t that what you like?”

Jungkook chuckles darkly, his thumb brushing over your swollen lips. “Not yet, baby. I have other plans for you first.”

Before you can even think of a response, Jungkook pulls you off the floor, spinning you around so your back is pressed against his chest. His hands roam over your body, cupping your breasts through your satin blouse as he nips at your earlobe.

“You’re turn, princess,” he whispers, voice sending shivers down your spine for the umpteenth time this afternoon.

You gasp as his cold fingers find their way between your legs, exploring your already soaked folds. He teases you mercilessly, touch light yet maddening enough that it has you writhing in his bulky arms.

“Please,” you beg, voice trembling with need.

You try to grind against him, but Jungkook’s firm grip stops you from doing so.

“Please what?” he taunts, feigning confusion, breath hot against your neck.

“Fuck me,” you whimper, the words spilling out effortlessly.

Jungkook grins, his teeth flashing in the dim light. “What my pretty doll wants, my pretty doll gets.”

In one swift motion, he lifts you onto the desk, positioning himself between your legs. Jungkook’s cock presses against your entrance, and you yelp as he thrusts into you in one smooth, powerful movement.

”God, why are you so tight?” Jungkook groans, his hands gripping your hips as he begins to move. “I fucked you this morning.”

The sensation, along with the reminder of your earlier shenanigans, is overwhelming and both the stretch and burn send waves of pleasure through you.

You wrap your legs around Jungkook’s slim waist, urging him deeper as he pounds into you relentlessly.

“Harder,” you whimper, your nails digging into his shoulders. “More.”

Jungkook obliges, slamming into you with a force that has the desk rocking against the floor. The sound echoes through the lecture theatre, mingling with your desperate moans and his guttural grunts.

“Could fuck this cunt all day,” Jungkook growls, his pace increasing as he mercilessly hammers his thick cock into you.

You cling to him, body trembling on the edge of release. But just as you’re about to let go, Jungkook pulls out, leaving you gasping and empty.

“No!” you cry, your eyes snapping open to meet his smug grin.

“Not yet,” he warns, voice firm. “You’re not cumming until I say so.”

You whimper, your body aching with need, but Jungkook isn’t done. He flips you over onto your stomach, hoisting your hips up so your ass is in the air.

“What are you doing?” you ask, your voice muffled by the desk.

“Giving you what you wanted,” he replies casually, his hands spreading your cheeks apart.

And then Jungkook is inside you again, filling you completely as he drives into you with a ferocity that leaves you utterly breathless.

Your sopping pussy lewdly squelches around Jungkook, completely soaking him. The sound turns the pair of you on further.

“Right there!” You mewl, pushing yourself back onto Jungkook, the pressure making you moan uncontrollably.

“Say it,” he demands, his voice rough with exertion. “Tell me who fucks you this good.”

“Y-you,” you stutter, your voice breaking as he hits your g-spot deep inside you. “This drenched pussy is yours.”

“And who do you belong to?” Your boyfriend growls, his hand coming down on your plump ass with a sharp smack.

“I’m yours!” you cry, the pain mixing with pleasure in the most delicious way. “Love the way you fuck me.”

Jungkook smirks, his pace slowing as he leans over you, lips brushing against your ear. “Good girl. Now come for me.”

As soon as the words leave his filthy mouth, your body convulses, wave after wave of pleasure crashing over you as you come undone. Jungkook isn’t far behind, his own release hitting him with a force that leaves him trembling.

The feeling of his cum oozing into you has you wanting to turn around and ride the fuck out of your lover boy.

Jungkook collapses on top of you, his breath hot against your skin as you both struggle to catch your breath.

“You okay, doll?” he asks, his voice softening as he turns you around and carefully seats you on the desk.

You nod, a small smile playing on your lips. “Yeah. I’m- wow.”

Jungkook chuckles, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You’re amazing.”

“And you, Bakugo,” you reply, your voice hoarse and barely above a whisper.

Your lover boy grins, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your back. “Round two after lunch?”

The cafeteria hums with energy, alive with the noise of lively chatter and the sporadic clatter of trays hitting tables.

You’re perched on the bench beside Jungkook, a tray of half-eaten chips and an unopened can of Samjin Mango Soda sitting in front of you.

Across the table, Taehyung and Jimin are engaged in a heated debate about Haikyu, their hands waving dramatically as they try to outtalk each other about the anime the two of them are currently rewatching.

Well, truthfully speaking, all of you have been rewatching, but only the two of them are so deeply interested. Maybe Jungkook, but he’d never admit it.

Speaking of Jungkook, he is slouched against the table, one elbow propped up as his thumb scrolls lazily through your phone, staring at pictures you had taken of yourself today.

And he says he isn’t obsessed.

As usual, he hasn’t said much, just the occasional grunt when someone asks him a question. He looks effortlessly intimidating, his black hoodie (that you finally returned) pulled low over his forehead, his iconic silver chain around his neck catching the light and his usual scowl that is always imprinted on his beautiful face.

You, on the other hand, couldn’t be more of a contrast. You’re in your own world, a makeshift beauty station spread out in front of you, next to yours and Jungkook’s shared meal. Your compact mirror is propped against the soda can, brushes and glosses neatly scattered around it.

A soft pout forms on your lips as you reapply a coat of your signature lip gloss, the sticky sheen glistening in the light. You’re blissfully focused, tilting your head to inspect your work like an artist perfecting their masterpiece.

“You’re so wrong,” Jimin says, leaning forward with a look of betrayal. “There’s no way Seijoh vs. Karasuno is better than Shiratorizawa vs. Karasuno.”

“It’s about the emotional stakes, Jimin,” Taehyung replies, sipping his iced tea as though he is a certified anime critic. “Oikawa’s genius mind versus Kageyama’s raw talent? That’s art.”

“Art?” Jimin scoffs. “Bro, real art is Ushijima annihilating them with a spike.”

Taehyung shrugs. “Oikawa’s smugness had more impact than any spike ever could.”

“Who’s Kageyama again?” you pipe up, tilting your head.

Jungkook’s phone, well your phone, lowers an inch as he glances at you, his expression blank. “You can’t be serious. We literally watched an episode yesterday.”

You shrug, completely unbothered by the disbelief in his tone. “I don’t remember the boring ones.”

Jimin nearly chokes on his drink, eyes wide in horror. “Boring?! He’s literally the King of the Court!”

“Don’t,” Jungkook says flatly, cutting off Jimin’s impending rant. “She’ll just start listing the hot ones.”

You grin, batting your lashes at him. “Is that a problem, Koo?”

Taehyung leans back in his seat, smirking. “You’ve got your hands full, don’t you, Koo?”

“I wouldn’t call it that,” Jungkook mutters, though his ears tinge pink. “And don’t fucking call me that.”

Taehyung catches it immediately, raising his brows. “Is that a blush I see, Jungkook? The same guy who nearly broke someone’s nose in basketball last week?”

“Fuck off,” Jungkook grumbles, sliding your phone over to you.

“Bro, you’re whipped,” Jimin adds, his laugh practically echoing across the room.

“No I’m not-”

“You are,” Taehyung interrupts, pointing a chip at him. “It’s so obvious. You’ve got that whole, ‘don’t fucking talk to me’ thing going on, but this one over here bats her fake lashes and you’re folding fast.”

“Hey! They’re real,” you protest, leaning forward and resting your chin in your palms.

You study Jungkook with a teasing smile. “Is that true? Am I your kryptonite?”

His eyes flick to yours, dark and unreadable, but there’s a flicker of something - amusement, maybe, or fond exasperation. Jungkook simply doesn’t answer, just grabbing a chip from the tray and popping it into his mouth.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” you say, your smile widening.

Jungkook rolls his eyes, but it’s half-hearted. He leans back in his seat, stretching his long legs out under the table, and you notice the way his fingers tap rhythmically against his knee. He looks relaxed, but you know him well enough to recognise the effort it takes to hold back a snarky comment.

“He doesn’t even deny it,” Jimin continues, grinning like he’s won something. “You know what? I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think you’re good for him.”

You blink, caught off guard by the sudden compliment. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Taehyung agrees, though his tone is far more mischievous. “You’re like the sunshine to his thundercloud.”

“Lipgloss to his cigarette,” Jimin chimes in.

“Or the idiot to his genius,” Jungkook finishes off, his voice dry as ever.

You gasp, smacking his muscular arm lightly. “I’ll have you know I’m very smart!”

“Name the capital of the United States,” he challenges, barely hiding the smirk tugging at his lips.

“Easy,” you say confidently, shrugging your shoulders. “Hollywood.”

Taehyung and Jimin dissolve into laughter, and even Jungkook can’t hold back the small shake of his shoulders.

“Christ,” he mutters, rubbing a hand over his face. “You’re unbelievable.”

You pout, confused why the boys are laughing. But, the sight of Jungkook joining in with them has you leaning into his side, grinning up at him. “You still like me, right?”

Jungkook doesn’t reply, but his hand moves to casually rest against the small of your back, his fingers caressing the exposed skin.

And that?

That’s the only answer you need.

You busy yourself with dabbing some extra Dior blush onto your cheeks, the sunlight streaming through the window catching the shimmer within it. Jimin plays with your Ilia mascara, shaking his head as he takes in the rest of your makeup that is scattered around.

Taehyung sees that you’re occupied and smirks, leaning closer to Jungkook. “You defo love it, you’re just too much of a moody shit to admit it.”

“Love what?” Jungkook asks, deadpan, though the tightening of his jaw gives him away.

“Having someone fuss over you,” his best friend teases, motioning his thumb towards you with a grin. “She’s got you wrapped around her finger.”

Jungkook exhales sharply, looking down at the now empty takeaway container in front of him like it’s suddenly the most fascinating thing in the world. “You have nothing better to talk about?”

Your eyes dart to him, catching the faintest hint of red creeping up his neck.

Smiling to yourself, you lean your chin on your palm. “It’s okay, Jungkookie,” you coo softly. “You don’t have to say it. I already know.”

He glares at you, but there’s no real bite to it. “Don’t call me that.”

“Why not?” you ask, pouting in innocence. “You love it when I call you that.”

Taehyung and Jimin burst into laughter once again at your audacity.

Jungkook narrows his eyes at them before turning to you. For a split second, his fingers twitch on the table, like he’s about to pull you closer. His gaze softens as it lingers on you - like he’s on autopilot, already halfway to pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

But then he stops.

Clearing his throat, he leans back in his chair instead, pulling the hood of his sweatshirt over his head like armour. “You’re insufferable and annoying.”

You blink, caught between surprise and amusement. “You almost- you almost did it!”

“What?” he grunts, refusing to look at you.

“You were going to kiss my head.” Your voice is laced with a playful lilt, but there’s a flicker of something tender beneath it. “Don’t worry, Kookie. Next time, you’ll follow through.”

His tongue pokes against his cheek, a telltale sign of his rising frustration - or embarrassment, you can’t quite tell. “Shut up and eat,” he mutters, tugging his hood lower before he shoves a packet of crisps your way.

Jimin and Taehyung howl in laughter, and you can’t help but join them, even as Jungkook mumbles curses under his breath.

Somewhere beneath the gruffness, there’s the faintest quirk of his lips - a fleeting smile that only you seem to notice.

And in small moments like this you conclude that while Jungkook doesn’t give you flowers or grace you with love letters, he gives you something that is endless - pieces of himself: his time, his trust, his unwavering presence, and a love so consuming it feels like forever.

And there we have it! Please do let me know your thoughts ; the support I receive means the world to me 🫶🏻

↠ Taglist : @bangchanwantsmesobad @rklvez @doulcha @starlight-1010 @mimi1097 @khadeeeeej @jkslvsnella @royalguk @gaebestie @iamstilljk @myjungkookthighs @jungshaking @kookiesgiggles @minimoninini @lovejkmilitarywife @pplongoing @pokolunolino @dontcallmeelle @taeisbae13 @ronyiboniyy @nerdycheol @onlyforyoukook @ukandtwme @morosisxx @smwhrinthehaze @thebluegoddess @ramyun-h @remgeolli @minniejim @cherricherryy @avawants2havefun @fr0ggieth1nk @ahgasegotarmy116 @jeeykey @ficluvr613 @deeznutkooks @kookienooki (names in italics could not be tagged).

[lnfours]

focal point ☆ chapter 4 | l.n

summary: as taylor swift once said: 'in a world of boys, he's a gentleman'.

warnings: art student!reader, best friend/college student!oscar, college student!lando, slight enemies to lovers!au, slight grumpy x sunshine, unedited, some filler stuff this chapter, a hint of fluff here and there, and are we finally getting somewhere with this??? idk????

message from jordan: happy new year, everyone! i hope you all had a fun and safe holiday season, and i hope this year is kinder to you than previous ones <3 thank you for being so patient with me on getting something out for you guys. i'm struggling a bit with writer's block, but hopefully i can push through and some more writing done by the end of this week :) again, thank you for being so patient. sending you all my love, always <33

series masterlist | listen to the playlist

the sunlight pouring into your bedroom windows made you open your eyes. however, you immediately regretted it. a pounding sensation filling your head the minute your eyes met the light. you let out a groan, your hand coming up to your temples as you buried yourself back into your pillows. 

“here,” a voice said from next to you, “take this.”

your eyes flew open again, lando’s figure coming into frame as he held out the bottle of advil and a glass of water towards you. you blinked at him as he softly smiled, nodding back towards the medicine bottle. 

“thanks,” you mumbled, looking around the room for any signs of what could’ve happened last night. you swallowed the pills down with the glass of water that he had in his other hand. he took the glass back from you, leaning off the foot of the bed to place it on your desk. 

“did we…?” you trailed off, sitting up. you had on a pair of pajama pants and an unfamiliar hoodie, a pair of clothes you don’t remember changing into. 

he shook his head, a soft smile on his face, “no,”

“thank god,” you sighed, placing your pounding head on your knees.

“did have to carry you out of the party though,” he said, “lily’s the one who got you changed. hoodie is mine, though. you were shivering on the walk back here last night. i slept on the floor, don’t worry.”

you looked over at the floor next to the bed, now noticing the folded up blanket and pillow on the carpet. you ignored how your heart tightened in your chest as his gesture, maybe he was a gentleman.

“i don’t even remember having that much to drink,” you said, “was it really that bad?”

“the guys convinced you to play a few rounds of beer pong,” he chuckled softly, “you suck, by the way.”

you let out a soft laugh, “yeah, need to work on my skills, i guess.”

“yeah, you can say that,” he laughed softly, “you hungry? there’s this really great spot off campus if you want something to eat.”

you nodded, “yeah, just let me change and brush my teeth and stuff.”

he nodded, biting his lip a bit to hold back the smile threatening to break out on his face, “yeah, sure! i’ll uhm.. wait for you out here.”

he jabbed his thumb over his shoulder towards the door as you nodded. when he closed the bedroom door behind him, you couldn’t help the smile on your face. you weren’t sure what had flipped, but suddenly he was making you giddy like a high school girl with a crush. and honestly, you weren’t sure if you were that mad about it. 

you moved as quickly as your hungover state let you, throwing on a pair of jeans and shoes before brushing your teeth quickly and grabbing your things. 

you walked out to the living room, spotting him on the couch as he scrolled on his phone. you smiled when he looked up at you, putting his phone in the pocket of his hoodie as he stood up. 

“ready?

you nodded, the two of you walking out of the apartment and towards the parking lot where he kept his car. you watched as he unlocked the doors, opening the passenger side door for you. you thanked him, smiling softly before he shut the door gently behind you. he jogged around to his side before getting in. 

“here,” he said, handing you his phone, “play whatever music you want.”

you held his phone in your hand, “do you want me to put in your passcode or do you..?”

“oh, it’s 4444.” he said, backing out of the parking space as you snickered. he looked over at you with a soft laugh as you shook your head, scrolling through his spotify.

“what?”

“your passcode is a bunch of 4s?”

he shrugged, “it’s easy to remember,”

“also easy for someone to get into your phone.” you said and he shrugged, making a right out of the school campus. 

you shuffled one of his recently played playlists, humming along to the songs you knew. you watched the view of the town out the window, thankful that your headache had slowly started to go away. 

you didn’t notice, too wrapped up in the beauty of england to see the way he looked over at you occasionally. he smiled to himself, wondering if you knew how gorgeous you were when you were in your own world. he had seen it in you before, especially when you’d lose yourself talking about art or working on the project. something about you being so unaware of your beauty made his heart rate pick up. 

he pulled into the lot of the diner, finding a parking spot before putting the car in park. he made it a mission to open all the doors for you, making you softly laugh and thank him every time before the hostess led you to the booth seat in the corner of the small diner. 

you flipped through the menu, “how’d you find this place?”

“i’ve been coming here since my first year,” he said, “they have the best pancakes in my opinion. food’s definitely better than the cafeteria on campus.”

“anything’s better than that place,” you said, “not hard to beat.”

he nodded with a soft laugh, “very true.”

after ordering your food, you ended up finding yourselves in conversation, talking about anything and everything.

“are you heading back home for the holidays?” he asked, taking a bite of his food as you shrugged your shoulders.

“probably not,” you said, “let’s just say things with my family haven’t always been…” “picture perfect?” he asked, finishing the sentence for you.

“yeah,” you said, “i normally just head back home with lily for the holidays, but with her new secret man, i don’t want to intrude if she’s planning on bringing him.”

“still haven’t met him yet?”

you shook your head, “surprisingly no. i don’t want to push her, but i really wanna know who the guy is.”

he nodded, “yeah, i’m in the same boat. oscar’s been talking about this girl, but i haven’t seen her around.”

“yeah, i texted him the other day and he said he had plans with her,” you said, “haven’t had our usual study sessions in a while.”

“hold on,” he said, “you don’t think…”

you furrowed your eyebrows, confused at what he was getting at until it clicked. you looked at him with wide eyes, “oh, god. i don’t know.”

“surely she’d say something to you, right?”

“i’d think so,” you shrugged, “unless she wasn’t sure it was going to be a serious thing, then i’m not sure.”

“i’ll try to get more out of him the next time i see him,” he said, finishing off the last few bites of his breakfast, “now i’m curious.”

you nodded, finishing your food as well, “me too,”

the waitress came back with the check, you fishing your wallet from your bag, but he was quicker in getting his card out. 

you sent him a look as he smiled at the girl, thanking her before his eyes landed back on you. his smile only got wider at the look you were sending him, “what?”

“how much do i owe you?”

he shook his head, “don’t worry about it.”

“lando-”

“nope, it was my idea,” he chuckled back at you, “you can get it next time if you really want to.”

next time?

you sighed softly before giving into him, watching as he signed his name on the receipt, “i guess i can live with that. thank you, by the way.”

he nodded, the two of you making your way out of the small diner, “anytime.”

“probably a long shot and you totally don’t have to if you don’t want to,” you said, walking towards his car, “but did you wanna watch a movie or something when we get back?”

he smiled as he opened the car door for you, “yeah, sure,”

you sent him another smile as you got in the car, feeling the same giddy feeling you felt earlier. 

whatever this feeling was, you really didn’t want it to go away.

[hwaslayer]

wildfire (cs) | ten.

—spotify playlist | series masterlist

—summary: assistant professor in bioengineering, incredibly attractive, lonely and divorced; that’s how most people describe san. but despite the events that have happened in his life, san has a lot going for himself. he’s a successful, sought out professor due to his brilliant contributions to science at just an early age of 32. he worked hard to get where he was now; head deep into his research, his publications, building his lab and creating a name for himself. everything was good and smooth sailing— until it wasn’t. because when he meets you, a bioengineering grad student interested in rotating in his lab, he finds himself ready to risk all the blood, sweat and tears he put in throughout the years just to keep you close— his need for you spiraling out of control like a wildfire.

—pairing: asst. professor!choi san x grad student!f. reader

—genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers to lovers, grad school au | fluff, angst, smut

—word count: 5.1k

—chapter content/warnings: cussing, mature language/sexually implied content, the dots are being connected!! soooo many run-ins and slip-ups 😭, alcohol consumption and intoxication, someone gets a lil too aggressive with oc, confrontation, some pushing / getting in each other’s faces lol, someone actually catches san x oc—OOP, namjoon is stressed, jongho too actually lmao, lots of assumptions, sorry if i missed anything!!

"So, how was it?" Jiung asks, walking alongside of you as the two of you slowly walk over to the Gates Biology Building, where Yunho's class was being held. You sip on your cup of coffee, dragging your feet while you look ahead to the building in view.

"What, the conference?" Jiung nods. "It was okay! Nothing too fancy."

"You didn't see any other people there?"

"Not really, no. I think this was a relatively smaller conference compared to the others."

"Did you get to talk to Professor Choi much?" He looks down at his feet, wondering if you'd open up about anything that could potentially give him clues. But, you resort to a simple—

"Nope." Jiung is looking at your necklace now. "Just said hi in passing." You avoid eye contact.

"I see." He tries to read your body language but it isn't giving him anything. He's just not sure why you're keeping it so vague and brief, though. That's unusual. Plus, the fact that you can barely maintain eye contact with him. "That's a nice necklace, by the way. Is it new?" He points at it.

"Mhm. I got it down there." You touch the necklace with a small smile.

"It's cute. It suits you."

"That's what the lady told us—" You catch yourself. "Me, too. I mean." Jiung furrows his brows.

"Us?"

"The other shoppers around." You quickly throw out just as you get to the front of the Gates Biology Building. "Thanks for walking me." You playfully ruffle his hair and he chuckles.

"Mmyeah. See you later for the happy hour event?" You nod.

"Have a good rest of your day." You wave him off as you walk backwards and head into the lobby. He stands there for a second, waiting until you fully disappear into the elevator and off to the classroom, turning on his heel while replaying the conversation in his head.

You don't feel the same to him, and he knows it's because you're hiding something. You weren't always great at lying or keeping up with a façade because that just wasn't you. For you to be doing it means there's something tied to it that means a lot to you, something you're trying to protect, and Jiung is now convinced that something is Professor Choi.

It's only a matter of time until he finds out one way or another, and he's not sure how to feel about it. It could either go badly or end up worse; he's afraid you'll end up hurt at the end of it, and he's afraid everything you've worked for will be taken away from you so, so quickly.

Meanwhile, when you drag yourself into the classroom, you're startled by the sight of Yunho on his laptop, sitting at the table in front of the classroom.

"Oh, hey!" He says, typing away. "Hope you don't mind me joining in for journal club today." You shrug with a small chuckle, setting your things off to the side while Yunho comfortably sits back in the chair. Your eyes quickly skim his get-up for today, which is pretty casual: dark jeans, a long sleeve top and chucks. He doesn't say much while you're getting things ready on the projector, typing away on his phone in between scanning your figure. He's trying to see if anything looks or feels off with you, and so far, it doesn't.

San is careful as can be, he supposes.

"It is your class, Professor Jeong." He smiles a bit and nods.

"So, how was your weekend?" You yawn into your arm and shrug. 

"It was okay. I came back from a trip. Felt too short."

"Mm." Yunho hums. "Where'd you go, if you don't mind me asking?" He's eyeing your features as you sift through your notes.

"Just drove out a few hours with my mom." You avoid eye contact as you go through today's paper and prepare some discussion points for class.

"Oh." Yunho nods. "That sounds nice." His eyes land on your necklace and it looks too familiar— which is probably because he almost bought that same necklace for Iseul on Hiro this past weekend.

Maybe San isn't all that careful cause he swears he sees the faint hickey at the base of your neck from this angle. The longsleeve top you're wearing covers it for the most part, if you're paying attention.

"What about you?" You look at him and see that his eyes have landed on your necklace before they move up to meet your eyes.

"I was actually at Hiro for a couple of things, then went to the BAS conference for a bit." Your heart drops and suddenly, the room feels incredibly hot. You completely avoid eye contact with him now, sifting through your notes to finalize the discussion points for today. "I thought I saw you there with San."

"No?" Is all you manage to say, but it's enough for Yunho to catch onto everything.

"You weren't?" You look at him, and his expression is blank. All you can do is pretend to play it off and shake your head, hoping he'd let it go.

"Not me." Your response is barely above a whisper, and all Yunho can do is let out a breath. He knows.

"Y/N." His expression switches and you can see the concern on his face. "Can I ask—"

"Morning Professor Jeong and Y/N!" A student comes in and plops into his usual seat, followed by another student, and another. 

Thank god.

"Sorry, you were saying?" You look at him cluelessly, making him shake his head in response.

"Nothing. I'll let you take it from here." He gives you a small smile, eyes now glued onto the students ahead. You give them a few minutes, waiting for the stragglers to trickle in and get settled before you call their attention to the front and begin today's journal club paper discussion.

Yunho, for the most part, keeps to himself during class, chiming in when he wants to clarify a point or to encourage the class to bring more discussion to the table. Yunho thinks you're a great TA, and he sees that the students are comfortable with you. He hates that he's so conflicted because of many things: one, he's not sure entirely about the situation. Two, his gut feeling makes him feel sure but he doesn't know how to approach it. Three, he knows you're an incredibly bright and smart person— you'd get along with anyone and truly, he hasn't had any issues with you despite his last minute requests for classes or assignments.

Four, maybe he just needs to let this go and stop meddling.

Five, you would've known what you were getting into right?

But, he's reminded otherwise when class wraps up an hour and 15 minutes later— a brutal reminder otherwise. He sees you packing up and getting your things together, clinging onto your phone just as you grab your bag and sling it over your shoulder. As you turn on your heel, you almost collide straight into Iseul.

You look at her, and she looks at you.

Her eyes glaze over your features, landing on your neck, that necklace.

"Excuse—" You try to brush past her, but she gives you a small smile and steps in your way.

"Hi Y/N, how's class with Yunho been?" You look at her because you have never spoken a word to her, nor did you have a reason to. But, out of respect [especially on campus], you give her a faint smile before responding.

"Good." You simply respond as she nods.

"And how's your rotation with San? Sure he's been treating you well?" She tilts her head to the side, almost like she's mocking you. Almost like the answer is written all over your face, your neck; her eyes are there again and you can't help but tug up and adjust your top more.

"Very." 

"That's good to hear, I expected as much. He's pretty good about building relationships with his lab members." She gives you a small smirk before stepping aside, slowly making her way to Yunho behind you. He stands there, hand slipped into his pocket while he cocks his brow at her. You don't even take another moment to look at them, instead quickly walking out of the room to text San and make your way over to your next class of the day.

you: san.

san: uh oh. lol what did i do? 😅

you: no it's not that. ☹️

san: what is it, baby? do you wanna come into my office in a bit? i'm wrapping up at the faculty meeting.

you: no, it's okay. i just finished class with yunho and i think he knows. well, him and iseul.

san: what, why do you say that?

san: not like i care about what they have to say or whatever.

you: san, you should. 🫤

san: alright, i'm sorry. you're right. but what did they say, baby? do you wanna wait until i see you later?

you: yunho just said he thought he saw us at the BAS conference, but i know he did. his tone and look said so. he was just trying to get it out of me. and iseul.. i don't know. it was just weird.

san: we'll talk about this later tonight then, okay? it'll be okay. don't worry about them.

you: okay. 🥺 are you going to the happy hour thing?

san: wasn't planning on it but i know namjoon's text is gonna come sooner or later. going with your friends?

you: mhm. i'll see you later tonight if you don't go?

san: soooo long. wanna pop into my office in a bit? 

you: sannie. lol i'm headed to my next class then i'm going to meet up with jiung and them afterwards.

san: for 2 seconds. 😭

You playfully roll your eyes and smile as you text back, already walking over to class.

you: you're still wrapping up at the faculty meeting and i'm headed to class. i don't think we'll have 2 seconds, professor choi.

san: booooooo.

you: see you later. 😙

san: ☹️ mean.

You giggle to yourself, tucking your phone into your pocket as you head to class; forgetting the tense, awkward moments that just occurred between Yunho and Iseul.

"Why'd you have to do that, hm?" Yunho asks her, grabbing his bag from the floor before walking alongside of her.

"Was just trying to see how she'd react. I'm sure she didn't tell you anything about her trip?"

"No. Said she went away with her mom for the weekend, so." Iseul chuckles.

"Of course. Someone I know said they definitely saw San leaving with her at the conference. Kinda makes sense now, doesn't it?" She looks up at him. "Y/N folded when I mentioned him, her body language completely changed."

"Iseul." Yunho looks at her. "What are you trying to do here? All I was gonna do was ask her, not interrogate or attack her."

"I'm trying to get you to do the right thing. They're dating, Yunho. It's obvious. I saw the way she tugged on her top, too. I'm sorry but she's not slick." He sighs.

"I don't know, I don't wanna start this whole thing. What if it isn't even that serious, or what if we're completely wrong—"

"Everything about this is serious regardless of what angle you look at it. It's wrong." She says. "You don't have to talk to San, but I will. They need to know." He sighs heavily, no longer knowing how to respond to her about the whole issue.

You meet up with your friends outside in the middle of the Harvey Center courtyard, where all the activities are set up appropriately for the happy hour event taking place. They've got cornhole competitions set up on the lawn nearby, another station to decorate university tumblers, and another for quick but fun board games. They've got a bunch of pizza boxes sitting out on tables, beer and canned wine next to it. You and your friends help yourself to a few slices before grabbing your drinks of choice for the night. They've got string lights to add to the atmosphere, the evening being clear but chilly.

"Finally! We relax all together again!" Felix says, tapping his can against yours before you all drink and start to indulge in tonight's happy hour festivities. 

"Our baby's finally here, too!" Eunchae squeezes you, hugging you tightly and making you laugh as she clings onto your arm.

"I know, Y/N. You've been so MIA." Felix looks at you with his usual puppy eyes, bottom lip slightly poking out. "What's been going on?"

"I've been busy with the lab, honestly. Trying to put in as much work as I can before the rotation ends."

"It's like you're practically living there." Felix jokes.

"How come you haven't been working with Sunwoo, though? He said you've been on your own schedule and stuff." Jiung asks.

"We're just focusing on different aspects right now. Plus, I've been trying to help Belle out as much as I can, too."

"Okay but, make time for us, too. Live your life!" Eunchae preaches. "You're here with us now, so let's enjoy it." So, you do. You do exactly that with your friends and a bunch of other people who swung by from different departments. Today's happy hour event is the liveliest you've ever seen it— tons of friends and people swarming from different departments and areas just to take a break from everything and mingle.

You and your friends hang out with familiar and new faces, all of you sitting around and drinking while one half played games and the others talked about school, work. Life. San and his friends join eventually, talking to a few students as they hang around amongst themselves. You giggle to yourself seeing San put on a face cause it's obvious he's not entirely in the mood. But, he's here. So, are his friends; Professor Kim being the social butterfly out of them all, per usual.

"So, Y/N. Tell me about the stuff you've been doing in Professor Choi's lab. I heard you've been up to some crazy stuff from Sunwoo and Belle." Hae-jin, a postdoc in another lab, pulls his chair closer to yours and looks you in the eye. At first, the conversation is fun, it's lively. You're in good spirits conversing with the guy, laughing and poking fun at campus life and being a grad student vs. postdoc.

But, Hae-jin keeps drinking.

And he keeps drinking.

Then his true intentions start coming out and you're no longer having a good time talking to the guy.

A few people are drunk enough to start a fun little dance floor in the middle of the courtyard while the speakers blast music, Eunchae, Felix and Jiung also grabbing you to join them as you sing along to the song. You facetime call Jurin while she's away, letting her know much you miss her. The call ends after 5 minutes, Jurin sadly waving while she heads off to dinner with her parents for their anniversary celebration.

"I'm gonna grab some water." You tuck your phone in your pocket, heading straight to the water table nearby.

"I was looking for you, cute stuff!" Hae-jin throws his arm around you and you can smell the alcohol lingering on his breath. "Wanna dance?"

"No, I'm good, Hae-jin." You shrug him off and take another sip of water before tossing your cup. San is already on high alert from where he's standing— his attention nowhere on Namjoon, Jongho or Zara right now even though he's trying his hardest to keep it together.

The fuck was this guy doing?

"What, why? It's just for fun? Let's just go and hang out." He throws his arm around you again, this time bringing you flush to his body. You try to press off his chest, but he's strong and it isn't an easy fight.

"Hae-jin, stop—"

"What's wrong?" Luckily, Eunchae is already on her way over to save you, sensing your distress signal from afar.

"Hey, stop." Eunchae senses the way you stiffen and quickly become uncomfortable. "Leave her alone." Eunchae pushes Hae-jin back roughly. "You're drunk, dude. She said no."

"Aw come on, bestie trying to get in the way? I just thought we could have a dance. We were connecting, Y/N. Were we not?"

"Hae-jin, stop—No." His hand comes to your waist again. But, before Eunchae can even jump in, another familiar voice does:

"She said no." San steps in the middle, hand lightly pressed against his chest to create some distance. "Sure you understand what that means, right?" San's tone is laced with anger, but he's wearing a cocky smirk to cover it up. He's fuming and you know it.

"Professor Choi." You quietly say behind him with Eunchae still next to you, but he doesn't respond to it.

"San." Christopher is trying to hold him back by the shoulder, doing his best to reel him back in. "What's going on?"

"I'm sorry, I can't hear you. You do understand what no means, right?" San asks again, his voice louder as he shrugs off Chris.

"Wow, relax. I didn't think I was coming off that disrespectful. She seemed interested so I was only playing her game—" San steps forward and your heart drops to your ass because what the fuck does he think he's doing right now?

"Kinda looked like you were forcing yourself on her, though." San cocks his head to the side. "Dunno if that really counts as her being interested." 

"San. Bring it back." Chris repeats. "The hell do you think you're doing right now?" He mutters lowly.

"San." You help by calling for him again, causing Hae-jin to knit his brows in confusion [along with Eunchae and Chris]. His eyes dart from you, to San, back to you, before responding.

"And how does it make any better that you're getting all worked up over her, Professor? Care to fill us in—"Hae-jin smirks a bit, causing San to push him back by the chest aggressively. But, before Hae-jin can even react properly, he's interrupted.

"San!" It's not just your voice calling out for him; it's Jongho's, it's Namjoon's, it's Christopher's. Namjoon is quick to step in between, creating distance between Hae-jin and San, giving San a very, very stern look once he dismisses Hae-jin to the side. You faintly hear Namjoon tell him to leave if he still plans to stir trouble, in which his friend tugs him to the side and apologizes on his behalf before they leave the event all together. You watch as Namjoon, Chris and Jongho move San to the opposite end, San's eyes wandering to you as if Namjoon isn't in front of him trying to get to the bottom of things.

"The hell just happened? Are you guys okay?" Felix asks as him and Jiung come over after playing a competitive game of cornhole with another duo of grad students.

"Bro, Hae-jin was getting all handsy and wouldn't take no for answer." Eunchae rolls her eyes, keeping you by her side and brushing your hair back. "Fucking creep. I wish Professor Choi actually decked his ass."

"I saw him getting in the middle." Felix adds. 

"What's that about?" Jiung looks at you, but you don't really respond. You know he's not asking about Hae-jin. You know he's asking about San in particular.

"He deserved it, that's what. Being a whole dumbass with no boundaries. Learn how to control yourself, asshole!" She yells, hoping Hae-jin hears it even though him and his friends are all further away.

"I'm gonna head to the bathroom."

"Want me to come?" Eunchae asks and you shake your head.

"I'm good. Promise. Just needa break the seal again and take a little breather." Eunchae smiles a bit before squeezing and letting go of your hand. 

On the other hand, Namjoon and Jongho finally find a better spot to speak with San at. Chris is honestly confused about the whole situation, being that he's never seen San outwardly act out that way even throughout his bad days. Jongho, on the other hand, knows exactly why and he knew it from the moment Hae-jin started drinking more and getting close to you.

Maybe he should've helped calm him down. He knew San's attention was on you and no one else.

"San." Namjoon calls him again to bring his attention back to him. "I know damn well— what the hell are you doing putting your hands on a postdoc like that at a campus event?"

"He was getting disrespectful, I know you saw that."

"I did, but you could've handled it with a lot more grace, San. This isn't the time nor place to get worked up like that. You don't get into fights on campus as a professor."

"I'm sorry."

"Was that really all that triggered it? Is there something else going on?" San looks at the floor and shakes his head, jaw ticking as he tries to calm himself down.

"No sir. I shouldn't have reacted that way." Namjoon doesn't believe it one bit, but he won't add more fuel to the fire right now.

"I don't think he'll go crying to the dean so consider yourself lucky. Please don't pull that shit again around these students. Promise me. You've got enough to deal with as is." San sighs heavily and nods.

"You're right, I'm sorry, Joon." Namjoon just gives him a small nod before letting out a breath and walking off to the side.

"Are you okay? I've never seen you that angry." Chris asks, confused about why San reacted the way he did.

"Yeah." 

"Excuse us." Jongho says as he lightly pushes him by the shoulder, a little irritated at how incredibly stupid he's being. "Bro." He adds when he gets him alone. "What did I tell you?"

"He was putting his hands on her! I wasn't gonna let him disrespect her."

"Because she's your girlfriend?" Pause. 

"That's besides the point, Jongho. He wasn't taking no for an answer and was forcing himself onto her."

"You could've just asked him to leave. He would have listened if you had just approached it properly." San doesn't listen, though. Instead, he clicks his teeth and whips out his phone to text you because he doesn't see you anywhere. "San. Don't." Jongho warns him, trying to keep the peace and the suspicion down. "Can't you just talk to her later? Shit will not help your case if someone sees you two. Think about this."

san: baby, where are you? 

you: i'm going to the bathroom.

san: can you meet me behind the building, near the first, back west wing door?

you: is that a good idea?

san: really quickly. please.

you: i'll be there in a sec.

"Be right back." He looks at Jongho before walking into the building and out to the back door near the bathrooms. 

"San." Jongho calls for him again before clicking his teeth. This dude was gonna stress him the fuck out, no doubt.

"Jongho?" Namjoon looks at him and all he can do is shrug. 

"I really don't know what to tell you." Jongho and Namjoon's eyes travel around to see if everyone is still looking at the scene. "Whatever it is, it isn't my story to tell, Joon."

"Is everything okay?" Zara cuts in, concerned about San. She also witnessed the entire thing go down and unfortunately, it's just another reminder, another confirmation, of your relationship with him. It still aches her heart, even though a tiny part of her is selfishly holding onto hope that they'd work out in the end.

Not you two.

"Yeah, should be." Namjoon gives her a small smile. "Don't worry about it. He's just having an off night." Iseul and Yunho are quietly observing from the opposite end of the courtyard, still mid-discussion with other colleagues. They do try to bring their attention back to the discussion and away from San thankfully; however, Yunho knows Iseul definitely won't let it go at this point.

After you head to the bathroom, you wash your hands and fix your hair a bit, hands slightly shaking from the entire encounter. You take a few deep breaths before heading out towards the back door of the west wing, which is only a few steps away from the bathroom area on the first floor. As soon as you step outside, San is there with his hands in his pockets. He immediately pulls you in for a hug, one that you don't reciprocate, especially because you're on campus. You gently push him back and shake your head, bottom lip slightly poking out in a pout.

"Baby—"

"Not here." You softly say. There's a small pause before you let out a sigh and address the elephant in the room. "San, you didn't have to do that."

"Well, the hell was I supposed to do? Let him touch you without your consent? He was making you uncomfortable, Y/N. Over my dead fuckin' body—"

"Can't you think for a second? You're on campus!"

"I don't get why you're upset with me for just trying to protect you."

"There were better ways to do it."

"Angel." He says in defeat. "I'm sorry. I'm not gonna sit back and let someone disrespect you like that. Namjoon will be fine—"

"It's not even that, it's everyone else—"

"So be it! For all I fucking care." 

"San, stop saying that." 

"No, why? Are you really upset with me?" He cuts in and asks, almost caging you in while he looks at you softly. It's taking everything in you to not just kiss him right here, right now. Wrap your arms around him, tell him to forget every little fucking thing because all that matters is you and him; on that us against the world type shit—

"Y/N?" You turn when you hear the door pop open and another figure is in your peripherals. Jiung is there, confused about the two of you being together. 

In the back.

San's face, body, in close proximity to yours.

Both of your expressions are telling.

"What're you doing? I thought you were going to the bathroom?" San steps back, attention shifting towards his feet. 

"I'll talk to you later." Is all he says before brushing past you and Jiung, back to Jongho in the main courtyard.

"Jiung." You come towards him. "You didn't have to come looking for me." You brush past him to head back to the courtyard, and Jiung can't help but keep his eyes on San for a second longer before he's coming after you and grabbing your wrist.

Fuck, San thinks. This whole night is so fucked up. He doesn't even know if you're mad at him or not.

He doesn't know what this means.

"Y/N, don't you think we should talk?"

"About what?"

"Stop." He swings you around to face him. "That's enough. What the hell is going on with you and Professor Choi?"

"Jiung—"

"I know you haven't been telling the truth, so please stop. Be honest with me, that's all I ask." You sigh shakily, bottom lip trembling as you fiddle with your fingers. Jiung knew, and tonight probably solidified everything he had questioned, felt, assumed. There was no getting away from it, not from Jiung. 

"We've been seeing each other." His eyes widen in surprise.

"So, Sunwoo wasn't lying when he said he didn't see you during the NAS conference." You feel the tears pricking at your lids as you shake your head. "You were with him." He lets out a breath. "Who else knows?"

"No one else. Please don't mention it to them cause I'm not ready to do that talk with them yet." He doesn't even answer, but the next question throws you so off-guard you don't even know how to properly react.

"D-did Professor Choi force you into this? Is he making you do stuff in order to secure your spot in his lab? Y/N, if he's—" You step back and look at him disbelief.

"W-what? That's the first thing you thought of?" Now, it's his turn to look at you in disbelief because how is he supposed to know? He sees the surface level of it and obviously, everything about it is wrong.

"He's a professor, Y/N. Not just any, but yours. Your rotation PI."

"I know it seems wrong, but that's not what it is at all."

"Seems wrong? It is." He flatly says. "This could literally fuck up everything for the both of you. Did you not think about that?"

"I'm not stupid, Jiung. I knew what I was getting into." You back up. "And why would you think of him that way? He'd never do that."

"How am I supposed to know? I know him as a professor—"

"Well, he would never do that."

"I'm sorry? I'm just worried and am making sure you're okay as your friend."

"I told you it was fine. It's not like that and we both agreed on this."

"Okay?" Jiung retorts, hurt by the defensive tone you have.

"I'm just gonna say bye to everyone and head back."

"I can walk—"

"It's fine."

"Why are you hella angry with me?" Jiung stops you again. "You can't actually be angry at me for caring about you."

"I don't need you to do that, Jiung. And I don't need you to start assuming all this shit about me and Professor Choi. You don't know him, and you obviously don't know me if you think I'm someone who could be forced around like that."

"That was not even my point, I was just—"

"Whatever." You say, brushing him off as you walk towards your friends and start gathering your things.

"You're leaving!?" Eunchae pouts. "Fucking Hae-jin and his kill-joy ass!"

"I'm just tired, is all. You stay and have fun, okay?"

"You sure? I can walk you—"

"Please. I promise. Have fun." You reassure her before saying your goodbyes to the rest of the group and walking off. 

"Is she okay? Did something happen between her and Professor Choi?" Felix cocks up a brow. "Is there something going on?"

"Nah." Jiung says, plopping down onto a chair. It's easy to see he's defeated, and it's easy to pick up on the mood change. Eunchae and Felix quietly sit around, sipping on the last bits of their drinks before setting the cans aside and scrolling through social media to talk about random things—

Just to let the weirdness pass.

On the other hand, San can see you from where he's standing and he feels his stomach drop. He doesn't wanna see you walk alone, he doesn't wanna be this way with you, he doesn't want Jiung to get upset or make things worse for you.

He doesn't know what to do.

"Maybe we should head out." Jongho chimes in, watching San text away.

"In a sec."

san: y/n, don't walk alone. where are your friends?

you: staying behind.

san: you want me to pick you up?

you: no. i think i should stay home.

san: baby, we need to talk about this.

you: and it won't be tonight. i think we both just need to step back and take a breather, okay? too many things happened and i just need to be in my own space.

san: did you and jiung fight?

you: i'll talk to you later.

san: baby, come on.

Because it's true— this was getting sloppier and even though you could care less, you needed to think. Do better. Be better about this with San.

Though, you're scared and you know it's about to unravel quick. Tonight definitely didn't help that case whatsoever.

You just needed a moment away from everyone.

—read 10.5 here

—taglist: @asjkdk @interweab @woojirang @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs @persphonesorchid @mxnsxngie @jycas @cowboydk @vcutparis @chngbnwf @struggling101 @sanhwalvr @angelqueendom @barbielibra @brown88 @choisansplushie @yunhoswrldddd @hyukssunflower @vickykazuya @lucid-galaxys-world @jaytheatiny @pommelex @thechaotictheoryy @vixensss @santineez @nopension @domfikeluva @in-somnias-world @my-atiny-kookie-rkive @mountiiny @naoristerling @onmymymyway @thecutiepieme

[justhereforthecupcakes]

@rosie-tyler Funny you mention Daniel spitting.

I actually wrote a very dark and sad AU fic in which Daniel spits in Terry’s face during the infamous arm lock moment in the 5x05 fight scene… with tragic results.

I’ve decided to post it below. Please be warned there are VERY dark themes and TW subjects. Otherwise, I hope those who read enjoy.

Something You’ll Never Forget Series

Title: Something You’ll Never Forget (I Know I Won’t)

Pairing: Daniel LaRusso/Terry Silver

Disclaimer: do you really need one at this point, or do you honestly believe I own the franchise?…. Why yes I do, write any checks to me please!

Warnings: N/C, Sexual Assault, Physical Assault, Edging, Forced Orgasm, Obsession, Anti-Asian slur, Terry Silver is his own warning, in fact Terry Silver is flat out delulu

Summary: Daniel makes the mistake of telling Terry Silver to blow him. So he does.

“You really ought to be careful what you ask for, Danny Boy.”

Daniel lay on the floor, naked below the waist, trembling and giving broken little whimpers from both the assault and being kept on edge for the last 20 minutes by Terry’s mouth and hands. He was straining oh so beautifully against the silver silk scarf binding his hands behind his back.

His cock straining even more.

Terry was glad he decided against blindfolding him; it would have heightened the sensations for his boy, but seeing the conflicting emotions of shame and arousal in his expressive brown eyes was far more rewarding.

They had fought, ending with Terry trapping Daniel’s arms with his own, taunting him.

“You never had the strength, did you?”

“Blow me, asshole!” Daniel had spat out, before spitting in his face.

He also never did learn to watch his mouth…

He’d struggled at first, alternating between panic and anger, pleading and cursing at him to stop; then the tears followed. But eight minutes in, the anger and tears subsided as Daniel gave up fighting. Resigned to Terry’s ministrations, his breaths now coming in delicious little gasps, and moans.

He loved the fire in his boy, but Submission was a damn good look for him.

Terry’s pants were definitely much tighter than they were 20 minutes ago. He ignored it, though. That wasn’t exactly easy considering Daniel’s thighs were quivering in the most provocative manner — if he only knew just how badly Terry was tempted to take a bite of his inner thigh and truly mark him.

For now…

Daniel let out a choked moan as he massaged his balls, lips teasingly brushing over his cock.

Oh he was going to enjoy hearing his boy cry out in ecstasy when he finally let him come.

But not yet.

He would make him beg next time - and there would be a next time, giving Daniel this small taste has without a doubt ensured that.

Perhaps he’d even take a hand to his backside for his insolence, as adorable as it was. Administer blow after blow until his cheeks were glowing.. until he was deliciously squirming and writhing in his lap, begging for Terry’s forgiveness… for mercy…

But, he didn’t want to totally break him just yet. Breaking him too quickly would have him running or fighting him even harder.

He knew his boy — he’ll always be his boy, no matter how old he got — and he was a stubborn thing. Regardless of how many years had been lost between them, he knew not to rush him. Daniel would need time to accept his feelings if he was to come to him on his own.

Besides, this was meant to be a gift, an incentive, a little nudge in the right direction…

… Still, his boy did need a firm touch. He needed to learn.

And Terry just couldn’t help himself.

“Do you have any idea how you look right now?”

A gentle kiss to his swollen cock.

“Has it ever been this good with your wife?”

Daniel remained as stony-faced as he could manage in his position.

Admittedly, it was an unfair question to ask — and an irrelevant one.

The one that mattered…

“Has a man ever touched you like this before?”

Because he needed to know. And because he’d seen Lawrence and especially that sl**t-eyed Toguchi sniffing around his boy, like Daniel was a bitch in heat.

Well, he supposed, in a way, he is.

And Barnes… well, he got the message.

The grimace on Daniel’s face was enough to confirm he hadn’t. And the elation it brought him. It meant Terry would be his first in so many ways.

God, it meant he’d stayed faithful.

That alone earned Daniel his reward.

He grasped him tightly then, sealing his mouth over the head and giving him firm strokes; his other hand teasing his perineum — that did the trick.

Daniel let out a strangled cry, involuntarily thrusting his hips and himself further into Terry’s mouth. It wasn’t long until Daniel threw his head back, letting out a guttural moan as he came hard.

Watching him fall apart and completely come undone truly was a sight to behold. Something he’ll never forget.

And neither will Daniel.

Underneath the flush from his post-coital daze, he looks shellshocked.

Understandable; his boy had never experienced this kind of pleasure before.

Daniel was no doubt experiencing the full onslaught of the feelings and desires he had kept buried all these years, the ones Terry had just forced him to confront.

It was long overdue. Terry had accepted his feelings, and now it’s time for Daniel to do the same.

Time for Daniel to come back to where he belonged.

He gently takes his face in his hands and kisses him before he unties him and leaves; pocketing the silk scarf.

It won’t be long before he’ll finally have the pleasure of seeing what his beautiful boy will look like riding his cock.

Until then, the scarf that had touched Daniel’s beautiful hands was now wrapped around his cock. And he imagined his boy would feel just as smooth around him.

So he waited for his boy to come to him.

And waited.

But his boy never came.

No, the next knock on his door were two LAPD officers with a warrant for his arrest.

The charge: sexual assault of Daniel LaRusso.

He made bail, of course.

But to add insult to injury, he was almost immediately served with a Temporary Restraining Order barring any contact with Daniel and his family, and instructing him to stay a minimum distance of 100 feet away for the next 30 days.

How he managed to obtain one so quickly… The judge listed on the order was part of LaRusso’s little country club, no doubt.

He’d have her charged with collusion and disbarred.

GODDAMN LITTLE PRICK!

Even if he wasn’t convicted and placed on the sex offender list, the charges alone would severely hamper, if not totally derail his plans.

LaRusso, you little bastard… you fucking tease!

He planned this.

Somehow he’d planned this and once again Terry had underestimated him.

He would have given him the world.

Okay, Danny Boy. Okay.

Now the real pain begins.

Title: Breathe

Sequel to: Something You’ll Never Forget (I Know I Won’t)

Pairing: Daniel LaRusso/Terry Silver

Warnings: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATHS, murder, strangulation, rape, stalking, obsession, suicide, Terry Silver is his own warning, in fact Terry Silver is flat out delulu

Summary: After the events of “Something You’ll Never Forget (I Know I Won’t),” Terry makes bail… and now… the real pain begins.

He wept softly as he rocked Daniel’s too still body in his arms…

He understood, too late, his boy simply wanted to know if he mattered more to him than Cobra Kai.

This had been a test to see if he would choose what mattered most, and he’d failed.

He’d been waiting for him at Miyagi-Do.

He just wanted to… he doesn’t know… but he needed Daniel to know.

Terry needed Daniel to know that for all the things he’d ever experienced… Viet Nam… the fear… the trauma…

Never had he experienced heartbreak like that at the hands of Daniel LaRusso.

His Danny Boy…

There were moments he was sure Daniel was pure Cobra, more than he or Kreese ever were.

He thought he’d never been more sure than the moment he learned what his boy was capable of: Orchestrating his arrest, the restraining order… setting everything he had worked to rebuild to burn to ash once more.

All of his patience and planning… all his years of therapy… gone with one look from his boy… a single threat of walking away…

But when he came out of the shadows, and Daniel jumped back, and ordered him to leave — screamed for him to get out.

Out of nowhere his anger dissipated; instead, Terry broke down and fell to his knees, grabbing Daniel around his waist, begging him… “don’t make me go, don’t push me away, please”…. never had he willingly shown such weakness and vulnerability in his life…

… and still Daniel tried pulling away… panicking and screaming and tripping them both to the ground with Terry on top of his back…

“DON’T TOUCH ME! DON’T TOUCH ME!”

The cruelty in his boy.

And, God help him, his anger has returned and turned into an all consuming rage. All he could think was how much he wanted him to hurt! To make him suffer for the way he had deliberately made Terry suffer, and break him for it.

Because Terry was suffocating and he couldn’t breathe…

So he wouldn’t breathe…

He wound the silver scarf around the swanlike throat and pulled tight… tighter…

"Terr—" he'd choked out, before his eyes rolled back and he finally went still under him.

And he was done waiting, done drawing this out. No, this was pleasure for Terry and pain for Daniel.

“I told you not to play with fire,” he voice shook in fury, as he undid his belt and pants, before roughly yanking down Daniel’s, “didn’t I?”

He took one moment to appreciate the enticing view, smoothing a hand over the cheeks he could only dream about over the decades; now a reality in front of him. Any ounce of regret he might have felt at their first time ruined by fury and blood was overtaken and consumed by that decades old darkness that had been caged too long.

There was no going back.

He took that one moment before spitting into his palm, and greasing his cock with the barest amount, because he didn’t deserve lube… he deserved every second of the torture he was about to endure…

And he shoved in, uncaring of the damage to delicate flesh and the blood that followed — satisfied even.

“You used me!” thrust “You used me for a trophy” thrust “and then walked away” thrust “without a backward” thrust “glance!”

His hands yanked upward on the silk material, pulling the scarf tighter, while pushing down between Daniel’s shoulders blades. Daniel couldn’t cry out, could barely breathe, body twitching in agony; didn’t matter - he knew he was in excruciating pain, while he was in utter bliss.

He was so very right after all… his boy was as smooth as silk on the inside… Smooth as velvet… He never knew people actually saw stars when they came.

He let his breathing come back under control… but his hands… were still pulling on the scarf around his boy…

… who was laying too still…

NO.

He jerked his hands away from the scarf and turned his form onto his back, and frantically tried to give the breath he'd stolen from him back… mouth-to-mouth… chest compressions… mouth-to-mouth… chest compressions…

BREATHE!

God, Danny - sweetheart - please breathe…

He tried listening for a heartbeat, but the horrible wail that tore from him drowned out the sound that wasn’t there.

He simply dragged his boy up into his arms, silently crying as he rocked him, whispering apologies and begging forgiveness to unhearing ears.

He doesn’t know how long he sat there, doesn’t know how long it was before he was discovered by Lawrence, Toguchi and (regrettably) Daniel’s children.

He knows their presence is the only reason he woke up in a hospital three days later, miraculously still alive… in pain (though it would never come close to what he felt when Daniel’s body was ripped away from his arms)… but he was still alive…

Just another regret.

A regret he remedied when he plead guilty, and requested the death penalty. He’s not the first convicted murderer in history to do so; but it still sent shockwaves through the Valley.

But he didn’t do this out of any sense of nobility… not even because he deserved to die for what he did… no, again he was selfish - he did this to see his boy that much sooner.

The only solace he had found through this tragedy was when he belatedly realized that his name was the last thing the love of his life ever breathed.

And so he was sentenced to death by lethal injection.

But he was given a surprise visit by Samantha on the day of his execution.

She didn’t want his apologies, she wanted to know why.

“Nothing I could tell you would ever make sense, nor should it. All I can tell you is that I wanted to believe I could change. I tried to pretend I wasn’t a monster, but I am. And your father… despite what I’ve done, I love him.”

And he loved me.

But he left that unspoken. She would never accept that. Never be ready for that.

Like father, like daughter.

Predictably she reacted in shock and denial, but he held her gaze and allowed her to see the naked and undeniable truth from him. The rage was still there, but so too was the quiet realization and acceptance of his admission.

“I’ve never felt more pain than the moment I realized what I’d done. I’ll never forgive myself for it.

“You don’t have to forgive me. But, Samantha — don’t let this consume you or your family like it did me.

“For over 30 years I’ve thought of nothing else but all the ways my life could have been different if I had just made a different choice - the right choice. I wanted something beautiful, and I had the chance to have a future with him… but now, if I could go back and change everything, I’d go back to the start of it all… and I’d kill Kreese. And me.”

That surprised her.

“So that you, your dad, and your family could live a happy life. Safe.”

She sat, unsure of how to take that. “But you can’t.”

“No,” he admitted, “But you will be safe from now on, Samantha. I’ll be going soon, and I’m taking Cobra Kai with me. It’s already done. It’s only a matter of time - they just don’t know it. And one day, you and your family can stop looking over your shoulder. It’s the one unselfish thing I can do.”

He watched her, the daughter they never had, leave knowing she would be safe.

He briefly wondered what she would do with the money he was leaving her and her brother… how she would react when they discovered they were among the beneficiaries, but no point in dwelling.

And when the guard came for him, he didn’t cry, he didn’t have second thoughts, he did not beg for mercy. Not even as they strapped him down. Not even when they inserted the I.V.

This was Mercy, unintentional as it were.

Daniel was waiting for him on the other side.

And he would find in death what he could not find in life — Love.

He was still smiling as they depressed the plunger.

Title: The Roots Are Strong

Sequel: Breathe (Third in the Something You’ll Never Forget series)

Pairing: Daniel LaRusso/Terry Silver

Characters: Daniel LaRusso, Terry Silver, Johnny Lawrence, Samantha LaRusso, Anthony LaRusso, Amanda LaRusso, Miguel Diaz, Carmen Diaz, Robby Keene, John Kreese, Kim De Eun, Chozen Toguchi, Mike Barnes.

Warnings: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATHS, death penalty, references to murder both past and present

Summary: Terry is executed, and everyone deals with the aftermath.

Samantha was curled next to Miguel on the couch, Anthony passed out on the other side of her, his head on her lap and a protective hand on his shoulder. He had progressively grown even thinner over the last six months.

Even Johnny had tried to get him to eat more — couldn’t help it. Kid was starting to look as skinny as his dad during his pencil thin days of high school… Always had to fight the urge to shove a sandwich down the little twerp’s throat back then.

Amanda had seemed to age ten years. A heavily pregnant Carmen was by her side doing her best to provide comfort.

The rest of Miyagi-Do/Eagle Fang were scattered about, keeping watch. Standing guard.

It was happening. Right now.

Johnny, Mike, and Chozen were present to make sure the bastard was dead and gone. No tricks this time.

And Robby.

There was no stopping him.

“He was there for me and I stabbed him in the back - I never even got to apologize… I need to be there. I need to see that asshole pay. He’s the reason for all of it.”

Johnny nodded.

“Ok, you’re 18 now. You can decide. But if it gets to be too much, then we’re out. No judgment. And no questions. Ok?”

It was incredibly anti-climatic.

But the son-of-a-bitch still died smiling.

Whatever. Hell will wipe it off his face the second he lands there.

They switched off the monitor once he’d flatlined and closed the curtain.

And that was that.

Afterwards, everyone departed, and it felt like a fucked up version of everyone walking out of a Sunday matinee.

Show’s over… time to go home…

But the son-of-a-bitch was gone.

That was one down as far as Johnny was concerned. There was still a fight left for what remained of Cobra Kai and Kim Da-Eun.

Or so he had thought.

Their demise had been anticlimactic as well.

Kreese met his end in prison the day of Silver’s execution.

A shank to the jugular and no one was talking.

No one cared.

With Kreese and Silver gone, Kim Da Eun had simply packed up and left.

If she planned to continue her grandfather’s legacy, it wouldn’t be in the Valley. And that’s all that mattered.

When Silver’s lawyer reached out the day after his execution, all of them were prepared for a battle beyond the grave. Something they should have seen coming.

No one expected he’d named Johnny and the LaRusso kids among the beneficiaries of his will.

They still expected some kind of trap. A deal with the devil. Maybe a cursed rabbit’s foot or something.

“To Samantha LaRusso and Anthony LaRusso, daughter and son of Daniel LaRusso, I leave a total sum of $200 million dollars to be split equally between both parties.”

He hadn’t counted on Anthony being the one to explode. He had been so quiet and shut down the whole time. But they all knew it was coming sooner or later.

He popped out his chair and almost up ended the desk before Johnny and Chozen were able to subdue him.

“Does he think money can fix this?! NO! I don’t want his goddamn money. I want my dad back!”

Amanda and Chozen had ushered him and Samantha out of the office.

“To John Lawrence, I leave in its entirety the title and brand ownership of Cobra Kai, LLC, to include its dojos—“

The rest he’d left to various charities and anti-bullying organizations, blah blah blah.

Douche.

In the end, they had each taken the inheritance.

Sam and Anthony had no clue where to go from here, though.

But Cobra Kai was now officially his. He knew what had to be done.

He’d retired the moniker and sold most of the dojos — there’d been a lot. He made a decent sized fortune, more than enough to secure a house — a real house — for his family, close enough to the LaRussos… he could afford to send all three of the kids to college if that’s the route they took...

Cobra Kai was gone.

And in its place stood Miyagi-Do — now officially co-owned by Chozen, Sam and Anthony, with Amanda acting as trustee until they reached 18; and with Johnny and Chozen as head instructors.

Carmen and Shannon managing the finances and accounts.

Finally.

The head of the snake had been cut off.

It was over.

For Cobra Kai. For Kreese. For Silver.

For Daniel.

But Miyagi-Do would live on, and be here long after they were gone.

All of them were going to be okay.

Because the roots are strong, so the tree will survive.

A/N: Terry did NOT see Daniel when he passed over. Nope. He woke up in his own Hell Loop losing the 85 tournament and watching Daniel walk away, smiling, over and over and over…

oh, sex? actually, can you just beat me up homoerotically so i can go home and jerk off about it later?

[lullabyashes]

So I have a hard time making fanart for a series unless if it's in the context of an AU so here's the jjk kids as some angel-like creatures.

All of this so I could just draw them running around and having secret little gay meetings. With some class system drama to spice it up a bit

Love ideas/suggestions if you have any ty <3

[zepskies]

Outlander - Part 1

Pairing: Dean Winchester x OFC 

Summary: Dean Winchester has been stripped of his military rank, but he’s living happier with his new wife, trying to adjust to a new life in her tribe. What will it take for her people to accept him, especially when the battle for her heart might not be completely won? 

AN: Ready for some more Cowboy Dean? Here we go with Outlander Part 1! This is a sequel story directly following The Honorable Choice, where Dean not only saves the member of a Native American tribe, but falls in love with her. (She saves him a lot in return.) Now, he’ll have to learn how to live in her world if he wants to stay with her.

This sequel series will be 4 parts! 💜

Disclaimer: I first got inspired to write The Honorable Choice for @jacklesversebingo after a recent rewatch of Spirit: The Stallion of the Cimarron (with a tinge of Yellowstone in the mix). I’ve done a fair bit of research for this now ongoing series, both on the Native American Lakota tribe, and on American history during this time in the late 1800s; AKA: the Old West, during the American Indian Wars.

Jacklesverse Bingo24 Prompt: Western AU

Word Count: 5.3K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. Suggestiveness/implied smut and spice, hunting (in the more traditional sense), angst, hurt/comfort, and romantic fluff. **Pronunciation guide at the end!

🐎 Series Masterlist || Bingo Masterlist

Part 1: Two Worlds

Her people call this river Little Cheyenne. It’s because Big Cheyenne cuts through the land of the Sioux Indians by half, but Little Cheyenne almost meets it in the south, stretching all the way up to the Black Hills.

Mila’s tribe has always lived near this river. Its waters have bled red during battles with other tribes, and sometimes during battles with White Men.

The White Men’s fort, the one her husband came from, lies farther down in the south. The tribe had to move their village higher north along the river after Mila returned with Dean Winchester, just to be safe.

On a cloudy afternoon, Mila scrubs at a bundle of dirty clothes until they’re clean. She rinses them off in the river and is thorough about her work, but she knows she can’t be here much longer. She has a stew simmering on hot coals in her tipi…

Well, the one she now shares with her husband.

Unconsciously, she smiles. She remembers leading Dean through the tribe, to the place where she hoped he would find rest. They stopped at the foot of her tipi. 

“This one’s yours?” he asked.

She paused, giving him another small smile. 

“Ours.”

Mila continues scrubbing, though she frowns when her fingers slip through a tear in one of the new tunics she made for him (even though he keeps calling it a shirt). The tear was made by a blade, or maybe an arrowhead, she realizes. 

The crunch of feet on the riverbed’s gravel makes her raise her head and look over her shoulder. Unease prickles down her spine. She braces herself for a familiar shadow, come to disturb her peace.    

But then she relaxes. She’s being joined by two of the older women in her tribe. Mila has known them her whole life, and so she calls them tunwin. Aunt. They both greet her kindly and kneel beside her with their own bundles of clothes for washing, but Eyota, the older one, has a sharper eye. She is their tribe’s medicine woman. 

“Your husband wears out his clothes,” she remarks.

“He’s been working hard training with Šóta and the other men,” Mila explains.

“He seems to be learning quickly,” says Misae. She has a more playful glint in her eyes. “Who knew that you could catch and tame a White Man. Looks like they are no different from wild horses.”

Mila smiles slightly, but it’s not genuine. She nods in agreement. “He’s learning quickly.”

She holds her tongue from saying anything else, even though she wants to. Dean isn’t a man to be tamed, any more than she was, in his people’s eyes. She aims to change the subject. 

“Do you have any good herbs or spices for wahonpi? I’ve had the stew simmering all morning,” she asks Eyota. Not only is she a gifted healer, but Eyota is also one of the best cooks, and she knows it. She nods and straightens her shoulders the way she always does when someone asks her for advice—and even when they don’t ask for it.

“Of course, child. What you need is…”

“Goddamn it,” Dean huffs under his breath.

The jackrabbit flees from him again, or more accurately, from his terribly aimed arrow. He’s an excellent marksman…just not with a bow, it seems.

He doesn’t know what he’s doing wrong here, and he’s not likely to figure it out. Not by the way Takoda, Šóta, and the other men are laughing at him.

Dean resists the urge to roll his eyes. He knows when he’s being hazed.

These men are bare-chested warriors, each of them richly tanned under the sun. Most of them wear their hair long, half of it gathered high on their heads, or braided in some way. Šóta is his wife’s cousin, and as the Chief’s son, he wears a small adornment of eagle feathers threaded into his hair. His closest friends are Takoda and Otaktay. Both of them laugh at Dean the most, and in their language, using just enough gestures and body language that Dean knows he’s being talked about. They point at his boots and his brown Stetson hat—two of the only things he’s kept of his own that make him feel comfortable in his own skin.

Finally, Šóta goes over to him. “Good try,” he says, in his usual patronizing tone.

Dean knows he can’t punch out Mila’s cousin, no matter how bad he’s asking for it. Somehow, Dean manages to hold onto his temper.

“What’re they saying?” he asks lowly, gesturing at the two chuckle brothers.

Šóta’s lips twitch. He glances down at Dean’s feet. “They say your…shoes are loud on the earth. You give yourself away before the animal even catches your scent.”

Dean’s given up a lot of things, but his boots won’t be one of them. He wants to learn. He wants to belong here, in Mila’s world, but he also wants to stay himself.

So the men move on, mounting their horses. Dean rides with Baby at a plodding clip. Her black coat ripples with a healthy sheen. He thinks she’s come to enjoy the more natural surroundings and freer pasture of the grasslands, and he can’t deny, this part of it all feels right. The sun peeks through between the dappled leaves of oak trees, painting the ground in red, green, and gold. It’s quiet and beautiful here as Šóta leads the pack through the forest, just southwest of the village.

Eventually, he stops them between a denser thatch of trees and shrub. He raises a hand signal that Dean’s come to recognize. He raises his bow belatedly after the others though. He follows Šóta’s line of vision, and there is a deer grazing in a small clearing. A young buck.

Šóta signals at Dean. Try again, his eyes say.

Dean takes in a deep, quiet breath through his nose, and he takes aim.

He really misses his damn rifle.

Dean shoulders the sting of failure while he makes his way through the camp, leading Baby by the reigns. He drops her off at the large horse pen. There he feeds her and brushes her long coat, all while murmuring soft affectionate things. She’s still one of his only friends here.

But even she leaves him short to join her new friend, Mato. The two have become thick as thieves. Mato greets the black mare with a friendly whinny. Their noses touch in affection, and Mato playfully nips at her ear.

Dean raises his brows. “Well, that’s a little more friendly than usual. You guys start courting when I wasn’t looking?”

He walks over to Mato, who’s softened up to him in recent weeks.

“You sly dog,” Dean remarks, smirking. “Didn’t even ask me for her hand.”

Mato blows a hot breath through his nose at Dean, who has to blink, wiping his face.

“Now that’s just rude.” Still, he offers the mustang an apple from his pocket. Mato takes it from his palm, letting Dean rub his neck while he munches on his snack. “As fathers-in-law go, you lucked out, pal. See? I’m a delight.”

He wouldn’t be surprised if Baby had her first foal by spring. Dean grins at the thought, but it soon falls. If only his father-in-law were so easy to please.

His mind dwells on it as he starts making his way back to the heart of the village. Chatan, Mila’s father, hasn’t warmed up to him any better than Šóta or the other men. Tahatan is the only one of them who treats Dean civilly, and overall, he seems to be a good leader.

Dean has that thought, just when he sees the older man himself walking with a woman Dean sort of recognizes. She wears a long necklace made of blue beads and seashells. Tahatan goes into her tipi, even though Dean knows…that woman isn’t the Chief’s wife.

Dean raises his brows, but he subtly pivots on his heel and takes a different route back to his own tipi. Whatever he just saw, it’s definitely not his business.

“Honey, I’m home,” he teases.

She welcomes him into her arms, her hands traveling warmly up his shoulders. He bends to kiss her, soft and slow at first. And then deeper, sucking on her lower lip and teasing her with a sensuous tongue. She hums in surprise into his mouth, making him smile.

He’s exhausted and feeling low, but he doesn’t want to let on to her. He just wants to forget about his day, and hopefully recharge with a better night.

“How did it go today?” she asks, after he allows her to breathe.

Dean nods (and lies). “Pretty good.”

She waits for him to continue. When he just continues to hold her, she raises her brows up at him.

“Dean?”

“What? I’m workin’ on archery. Lots of progress.”

She eyes him in suspicion, and he knows he doesn’t have her fooled. Actually, she looks like she’s going to press him about it, so he releases her from his hold and goes to change out of his dirty clothes to avoid her gaze.

“Hey, uh, maybe it’s none of my business, but I saw the Chief go into some other woman’s tent today. Holding hands, bedroom eyes, the whole deal,” he says while he changes. He glances back at her and waggles his brows. Mila smiles slightly.

“Did she wear her hair in a half-braid, or did she wear a necklace made of seashells?” she asks.

Dean’s surprised that she doesn’t seem surprised, but he thinks back to what he saw.

“Uh, seashells. Yeah, she wore seashells,” he says.

Mila nods. “Yes, that woman is also his…the chiefs of my people are known to take more than one wife.”

At that, Dean becomes even more surprised. He finishes dressing and leaves his boots by the tipi’s entrance. His raised brows even out into a smirk.

“Well, okay. Guess it’s good to be Chief,” he says.

Mila’s lips purse as she eyes him narrowly. She goes back to stirring the stew with a wide, wooden spoon. Dean doesn’t see her reaction, but he does notices that something’s missing from his side of the bedding. He frowns.

“Hey, where’s my gun?” He asks Mila, who shakes her head without looking at him.

“I moved it,” she curtly replies.

Dean’s frown deepens. He touches her arm to get her attention.

“I’d rather you didn’t do that, baby,” he says. He’s made sure that she knows the basics of a gun well enough, but he doesn’t want to take the chance of her hurting herself.

“Don’t leave it out, then,” she snips back. “It shouldn’t go where we sleep.”

Dean tilts his head at her. He’s a bit confused at her tone, especially because they’ve had this conversation before.

“I have it there just in case something happens at night,” he reminds her. His pistol is really just for emergencies though. There are only three bullets left in it, and he can’t exactly go shopping for more. 

Dean realizes then that Mila’s mood has shifted. He approaches her from behind.

“What’s wrong, huh?” His hands find familiar purchase along the curve of her waist. He swipes her braid away and presses a kiss where her neck meets her shoulder. More teasingly, he asks, “What’d I do now?”

Mila remains tight-lipped, until she glances at him over her shoulder.

“Do you want another woman?” she asks.

It’s a simple question, but it succeeds in completely tripping him up. He blinks at her, incredulous and bewildered.

“What?”

She continues shredding another herb to put into the stew. Somehow, it makes the broth smell a bit worse. 

“You seem to admire the Chief for having three wives, so you must want another one too,” she says.

Holy shit, three wives? Dean wonders. The man must be a saint. Look at the hell I’m catching with one.

He can’t help but laugh, a deep belly chuckle that does nothing to take away Mila’s ire. She glares at him now, genuinely upset, and Dean knows he’s starting to shit the bed on this one. He sobers up and raises his hands in surrender.

“Sweetheart,” he says, in a placating tone.

Despite her annoyance, she allows him to hold her again. He plies her with more tantalizing kisses along her neck. He breathes in the sweet-smelling oil she uses on her hair.

“You’re more than enough woman for me. You know that, right?” he whispers against her skin. It earns her slight shudder, and he smiles. He teases the spot just under her ear, grazing with his teeth, then soothing with his tongue. She can’t help but writhe against him a bit. It stirs a well of desire in his lower belly, especially when he squeezes her hips, pressing himself to her from behind.

She tries to remain strong as she clears her throat, no doubt feeling his growing hardness against her. She starts to blush hotly.

“It’s all I can do just to make sure you stay sweet for me,” Dean says, a hint of teasing returned to his voice.

Mila finally breaks into a laugh. She reaches back to swat him on the head, but his ministrations work. Once she manages to escape from his grasp with a teasing smile of her own, she more happily serves him a bowl of stew.

Dean smirks. Fine, he can be patient. He’ll just have to wait until dessert, then. After a moment to calm himself, he sits down on the ground beside her and brings a large spoonful of stew to his lips. There, he pauses. The strange taste that assaults his tongue nearly makes him choke, but he does his best to swallow it down. The meat’s tough as nails, for Christ’s sake…

Hearing a spoon clatter against the bowl, he chances glancing at Mila. She sits stock still, her brows furrowed as she frowns. Slowly, she sets the bowl down and says,

“Stop eating.”

She looks angry at herself. Dean feels bad for her, his sympathy striking at his chest.

“What do you mean? I’m hungry,” he says, and gamely takes another couple of bites.

She just watches him. Her upset worsens while he tries and fails to cover up a hacking cough.

Finally, Mila can stand no more. She takes the bowl from him, making some of the foul broth slosh over their hands and onto the ground. She tried to make wahonpi, one of the most basic soups in her people’s culture, made from bison, potatoes, corn, and carrots stewed in the broth.

Eyota told me it was simple! she thinks in dismay. How did it go so wrong?

“It’s no good,” she says, her voice hard. “I will go to my mother and see what she cooked. She may have extra for us.”

She rises to her feet, and Dean quickly follows her. He catches sight of her tears, even though she turns her face away from him to grab her shoes. He reaches out and stops her with a hand on her arm. He tugs her back to face him.

“Hey, it’s okay. Why’re you getting so upset?” he says. “I’m not picky. I’ll eat whatever you make.”

Or maybe next time, I’ll try doing the cooking, he thinks.

“Because!” she blurts. Tears well up in her eyes and begin to slip down her cheeks, no matter how much she tries to brush them away. “Because you shouldn’t have to eat it. Because it should be good. You deserve to eat something good!”

Mila finally realizes why her mother tried so hard to teach her these things. She’s embarrassed, feeling sorry for herself, but it’s also far worse than that. Her heart hurts knowing what Dean has gone through, and what he continues to go through for her sake. The least she could do is make sure he eats well, and it seems she can’t even do that.

“Mila,” he says with a sigh. He guides her into his embrace. “It’s okay, sweetheart.”

She can’t allow herself to be comforted. She pushes at his chest to look up at him.

“You think I don’t know what happens outside?” she says. “It’s a small village, and people talk when they think I’m not listening. I know what the men are doing to you.”

Dean shakes his head stubbornly. “It’s fine. I can handle it.”

“You should not have to,” she insists, resting a hand over his heart. “You have proven yourself to be a man of honor. Tahatan said it himself. They should not be this way.” 

Dean smiles ruefully. “I can handle it.” 

He bows his head and captures her lips, plying her with a deeper kiss. The heat of it grows and becomes more than a distraction, more than comfort. It strips everything else away, until it’s just the two of them again, like the night she found him at the riverbank and held him until he woke up in her arms.

What they eat doesn’t matter. Other people don’t matter. All that matters is this.

He squeezes her hips and presses her harder against him, so she can feel every part of his desire. She moans into his mouth, curling her fingers into his shirt. So he guides her down to the bedding, where he shows her what he’d rather get a taste of.

Later that evening, Mila and Dean have dinner with her parents. Her mother, Weaya, is a gracious host, treating Dean both like a guest and a proper son-in-law. She gives him a special cut of braised bison meat, not to mention extra corn and potato hash. Chatan says nothing to him and eats in gruff, stoic silence. 

Dean can tell it both hurts and annoys his wife, but he has to focus on answering Weaya’s many questions about his life—mainly about his family and the farm he grew up on. In some ways, raising crops and rearing up cows, chickens, and horses there isn’t so different from the Lakota village.  

“You must miss that place. Your home,” she says. Dean meets his mother-in-law’s eyes, pausing in polishing off the meat sauce on his plate with a piece of bread. Chatan looks up from his meal, and so does Mila, who hesitates too. He sees the thread of her concern there, behind her eyes, so Dean hides the stab of sadness that hits him every time he thinks of Lawrence. 

“Sometimes,” he admits. He looks over at Mila. “But I’m not alone. That’s what matters.”

She smiles at him softly. Dean has the urge to take her hand, maybe raise it up to his lips, but he’ll leave that for when they’re alone. He doesn’t want to upset her father any more than he has just by sitting in Chatan’s house. Tent…whatever.

He’s glad when, after almost another hour and a round of hot tea, Mila finishes chatting with her mother and stands. It means they can finally get the hell out of here. No disrespect to her parents, but with so much change happening so quickly, Dean had been able to put Lawrence out of his mind for a while. Tonight he thinks about his mom and his brother more than makes him comfortable on their way through the village. He follows Mila inside their tipi, then starts up a candle while she gets ready to rest for the evening. 

Living here is like going back in time—before the lantern, before indoor plumbing and the water heater. It’s not a huge hardship for Dean, who’s spent a lot of his life sleeping on hard, dusty ground, or military bases with less than most modern amenities, but it’s still another adjustment. 

He undresses down to his pants and settles down to the bedding and furs, waiting for his wife. She kneels beside him after undressing down to just her shift. He lays on his back with an arm tucked behind his head, and he watches her unbind her long, dark hair, undoing the braid from the bottom strands. She has this concentrated look on her face, like her mind is far away, even though she’s right here next to him. He threads his fingers through her loose hair while she works, giving her a smile.   

“You okay?” he asks. 

Mila pauses. She lets her tresses escape from her fingers and reaches for him, laying her hand on his chest. Dean holds it there and finally allows himself to press a kiss into her palm. 

I’m sorry, is what she wants to say, but she knows he’ll only reply, For what?

So she lowers down and slips into his warm embrace, as if this can make them both forget the day. She rests her cheek over his beating heart. 

“You will never be alone,” she promises. 

Dean quirks a smile. Instead of answering, he brushes her cheek tenderly with his hand, and he closes his eyes. A few deep breaths later, and he finds sleep.

The candle slowly flickers out.   

On most nights, Mila falls asleep before Dean, and so his light snores don’t bother her. Tonight, even though she’s tried, she can’t tune out his rumbles. Or maybe it’s her own mind she can’t tune out.

She carefully maneuvers out of his hold and slips on her shoes. Maybe the moon will give her clarity tonight. 

She pushes open the front flap of the tent and steps out into the cooler air. She looks up at the moon’s white-blue glow, a wide crescent peeking out from between two large clouds. A strong breeze tugs at her hair and flutters her lashes when she closes her eyes. She crosses her arms when goosebumps spread across her tan skin.

“What troubles you, Kimmímila?”

The voice is steady and male, and all too familiar. Still, the intrusion startles her. Her eyes fly open wide and she jolts, inhaling sharply. She frowns when she realizes it’s him. 

“What are you doing? It’s late,” she says.

He steps out from the shadows with his pipe in hand. He smells strongly of tobacco. Her father and uncle smoke as well, but she doesn’t like it herself. She’s glad Dean doesn’t either.  

“Easing my mind,” he says, raising his pipe. “I see you’re up to the same thing.”

Mila shakes her head. She returns her attention to the moon. “Go. You shouldn’t be here.”

“Are we not friends, Mila?” he says. “Can’t we talk and share like we used to?”

His voice is disheartened enough that it earns her gaze. She sighs at him. 

“I am sorry, but I can’t give you what you want,” she says. “Don’t test me anymore.”

He pauses with his pipe in hand. It drops to his side, and he takes measured steps closer, until he’s looking down at her. Even with the litheness of his form, he’s still taller and broader than her. His long, dark hair is half pulled onto the top of his head, threaded together with a beaded leather string she made for him when they were children. He has used it ever since. The rest of his hair lays loose down his back, brushing his arms. 

“If you actually loved him, it wouldn’t be a test,” he teases.  

He tries to touch her cheek, but she guides his hand down. She shakes her head and steps away from him. 

“This isn’t a game,” she says. “You know I mean what I say.”

His anger and frustration surfaces, with a sharp exhale of breath and the crunch of his dark brows.

“You would choose the Outlander over your own people,” he accuses.

Mila’s gaze is firm as she heads back to her tipi. If he will not be reasonable, then she will make it clear enough to hurt. 

“I choose him over you,” she says. 

Then, she slips back inside.     

The shadow outside remains, just long enough for the moon to become clear past the moving clouds. 

In the morning, Mila goes to her uncle, Chief Tahatan. She finds her parents there in his tipi as well, all of them sharing breakfast. Her aunt passes around more bread and wojapi, a sweet mixed berry sauce, while her father is resting a broken ankle. He’s complaining again, even though it happened over a week ago now. 

“If you hadn’t let the horse buck you off, you wouldn’t be hurting,” she says sharply now. She’s become annoyed with his griping. “Or better yet, you can finally admit that you’re beyond the years of breaking young stallions.” 

Chatan is the Horsemaster of their tribe, and has been since Mila was a little girl, inheriting the position from her great uncle, the former chief’s younger brother. Mila knows, however, that Chatan is getting too old to do the harder work. Many years have meant many battles too, and they’ve taken their toll on his bones. 

An idea grows in her mind, and she goes to sit beside her father. She applies the poultice Eyota gives Weaya for him, before rewrapping his ankle.

“Father,” she begins, imploring him gently, “perhaps Dean could help you care for the horses.”

Chatan eyes her with a frown. “Your husband already has his hands filled with training.” 

“Šóta and Takoda can’t do it all themselves, and Dean has experience with breaking young horses,” she reasons.  

Chatan ignores her and hefts himself to his feet without her or his wife’s help. He leaves with her mother on his heels, even though she looks back at her daughter apologetically. You know your father, her eyes say. 

Mila frowns at his back, both frustrated and upset. When they’re gone, she heaves a sigh. She remains determined though. 

She goes to Chief Tahatan next. He sits in his chair of whicker and wood while he smokes his pipe. Her aunt has gone to help the other women harvesting chokeberries and wild onions. Mila will go there soon, but first, she has business here.

“Uncle,” she says. 

He makes a sound of acknowledgement, crossed between a grunt and a groan. He knows what's coming. She kneels at his feet and touches his hand in a sign of humbleness, reverence, and familial love all at once. 

“Uncle,” she repeats. “Dean has done nothing but try to please Father, but still, he’s being stubborn…will you talk to him? Please?”

Tahatan sighs deeply. “You must understand your father, child. The decision you’ve made affects us all.”

“I do understand, Uncle. But the truth of it is, none of you have given Dean a chance to prove himself.”

“His chance is right now,” Tahatan says, his tone more stern. “Have I not been gracious? Did I not allow him to stay and live among us?”

“Yes, but you continue to judge him in your mind, like everyone else,” she says. The Chief remains quiet. She moves to stand before him, holding his gaze directly. “Let us perform the Huŋkápi.”

Huŋkápi. The Making of Relatives. Her people first created the tradition to make peace between Lakota and rival tribes, like the Ree. It can even be used to unite extended families within the tribe, especially in times of marriage. There is no better time for it, she thinks. 

The Chief shakes his head. “Kimmímila.”

“Is he not my husband?” she says. “In the eyes of our people, this is the joining of two families, and accepting an outsider into our tribe. That is exactly what the ceremony is for.”

“He has no family,” Tahatan snaps. “It is not exactly the tradition.”

“Then let us make it new,” she argues.

Tahatan hesitates. He shakes his head and rubs at his chin in a gesture of long-suffering. He thanks the spirits that he never had daughters. While he loves his niece, he has never envied his brother. 

“I will think on it,” he says. 

Mila frowns, but she tries her best to accept this, for now. She thanks him respectfully and leans in to kiss his cheek. Tahatan grunts an acknowledgement and watches her go with another shake of his head, despite a small smile. Between her and his sons, they will keep adding years to his life. 

On her way out of the Chief’s tipi, she runs into her cousin, Šóta. He walks with all the comfortable cockiness of a rooster among his harem.

“Good morning, sister,” he greets, even as he playfully pulls at her braid and tosses it into her face.

She flicks it away and meets him with an irritated frown. She’s in no mood to be teased, especially by him. “You’re still a child.”

“Ho-ho, hey now,” he chuckles, and he cuts off her path by standing in her way, crossing his arms. “Watch it. When I become Chief, don’t think I’ll let you talk to me so disrespectfully, my sister.”

“Just because you will be Chief one day does not make you wise,” she says. Her voice is as sharp as the snap of a blackberry vine. “And don’t call me sister. You have lost that right.”

Šóta finally becomes serious; he realizes that she means what she says.

“What are you talking about? What have I done?” he asks, more earnestly.

“It’s what you haven’t done,” Mila snaps. “If you were a good leader, you would take your father’s words to heart when he accepted my husband into our tribe. If you were my brother, you wouldn’t let the men mock him. If you were a man at all, you would do what is right. You would be guiding him right now, instead of letting the others ‘train’ him.”

She storms away from him, leaving Šóta feeling irritated, but also with an uncomfortable feeling beginning to churn in his gut. 

Mila moves brusquely through the camp until she reaches the clearing edged by the forest. There the horses are fenced in. They’ve been given their food and water for the morning, so they’re rather frisky as they clop around and graze.

She looks for Mato. Baby is no doubt with Dean today, so the Kiger mustang keeps to himself underneath a large sycamore tree. His tail flicks when she approaches, and he turns to her with a sound of greeting. She allows her hand to run along his dun-colored coat as she draws closer.

“I need you, my friend,” she whispers. 

She holds his snout, pressing her forehead against his as she squeezes her eyes shut against the burn of frustrated tears. Mato bumps her shoulder with his nose, softly whinnying. She smiles, sniffling, and rubs his cheek. 

“Let’s go for a ride.”

AN: Well, here we go! Sorry for ending on some angst, but here we've got the pieces in motion for a fun-filled, four-part sequel. 😂💜 Dean and Mila are both struggling in their own ways while he tries to navigate this new world he's trying to live in.

And how do you think he's gonna react to the "mystery man" trying to win her back? 😬

Pronunciation Guide:

Šóta ("sho-tah") Chatan ("chat-tan") Tahatan ("ta-hat-tann") Otaktay ("ogh-tac-tay") Weaya ("we-ayy-ya") Takoda ("ta-koda") Mato ("matt-toe") Misae ("mee-sah-eh")

Next Time:

But she feels a shadow at her feet as she ventures through the village. They are getting bigger as a tribe, harder to move when they need to, and it’s more mouths to feed, but it’s also a good thing. Despite all the challenges the past few decades have brought, their people are enduring. 

However, she pushes these thoughts to the back of her mind when she feels a prickling down the back of her neck. It’s followed shortly by the strong hand that closes on her wrist, and the man that calls her name. 

She gasps and whips around. He is there, gently shushing her. She glares at him and tries to pull her hand out of his grip. 

Read Part 2 now on Patreon! (Coming next Friday)

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Outlander Masterlist

The Honorable Choice Masterlist

Jacklesverse Bingo Masterlist

Dean Winchester Series List

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List (Part 1)

(Going back to the regular Dean tag list, plus those who said they'd like to be tagged on this series!)

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @mostlymarvelgirl

@thebiggerbear @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @deans-spinster-witch

@deans-baby-momma @sanscas @kaleldobrev @spnwoman @samanddeaninatrenchcoat

@globetrotter28 @adoringanakin @midnightmadwoman @chevroletdean @iprobablyshipit91

@chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @spnfamily-j2 @pieandmonsters

@deansbbyx @sarahgracej @chernayawidow @mimaria420 @stoneyggirl2

@fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @waywardxwords @waynes-multiverse @twinkleinadiamondsky @mxltifxnd0m

@my-stories-vault @kayleighwinchester @rizlowwritessortof @samslvrgirl @tortureddarkstar

@tmb510 @syrma-sensei @artemys-ackles @malindacath @mrsjenniferwinchester

@jc-winchester @charmed-asylum @fromcaintodean @k-slla

[nuggeteri]

Blue is fulfilling (And I do mean this, too. So much of the color Blue has been with me through my creative processes. Blue is fulfilling.)

Luminescence. It's not done, but it's my baby. It's my original work and I could never ever let it go.

The Hate U Give by Angie Thomas, 2016 Best Seller

WatcherAurora and Amethystfairy1. TheYesterdayShow, A-Plethora-Of-Peters. TheDreadedRobert

Any of the Cane scenes in Luminescence, honestly.

It was a lead up to a sex scene in my fanfic "Half The Dessert's Rotten". I wouldn't have had to write the sex, just to imply it was there, but.. I'm asexual, and my god, how do some people write smut. thats beyond me

Scott Smajor and TangoTek.

I can't draw Scott. With others, it's fine, right, but Scott, i hold so much love for him and I want him to be so perfect that I can't draw him, because i'll never be satisfied with it.

It has to be all of TTSBC from Amethystfairy1. Sometimes I'll just go to their dms and quote their own fic.

Traffic Life Series!

Traffic Life Series!!!!

Mhm,,, I have this Unicorn AU I'm working with with Syn, as well as GUILDED CAGE!!! with Cat. But I'm looking forward to post more personal projects like Beat Around The Bush or an Impdubs oneshot.

Even Joined Walls Fall Down by WatcherAurora wrecked me more than anything else but,,, yeah.

Something new...Uhm, Legos?

My general approach to writing? I take it more laid back than before, making it much more entertaining for myself.

Prophecies! For Guilded Cage, with Cat. Very interesting.

I wanna say....Buzzkill?

definitely "Til the end of the earths (guess we found out where the earths ends)".

Apocalypse AU with the fic mentionned above ^. I always go for more Modern/Highschool/college Aus otherwise.

Unicorn scott as a concept. sorry syn not sorry

Rescue Fire by ImagineThat

Ah, this is a hard one, because I usually try to make everything fit? And if it doesn't make it, then the idea was just.. Not great. Maybe in Rotten Dessert, I wanted to make Scott's relationship with his mother so much more worse, but instead, I ended up making it another fic entirely (Beat Bush). Maybe shipping Gem and Cleo in "Tomorrow we'll dig through the garbage" because I forgot Cleo was already shipped with Martyn.

TheYesterdayShow's new series, "A billion moths flying towards you" (maybe i messed up the name.) Or the Lark AU! I liked that one!

woofuspigeon on Tumblr. I love their style.

All of Trust Life by Capritarius

My experience with the foster care system and speaking up about how fucked it all is.

Rodamrix on Wattpad has been a delight to have comment regularly. Thing is, they're not even in the Traffic life series fandom, and still want to support me!

Brother by Madds Buckley, Teen Idle by Marina, Pick Me by Alex Benjamin, all of Evil Anvil's songs.

WatcherAurora has been a huge inspiration. Amethystfairy1 too.

Take your time. you don't owe a chapter to anyone. Write at your pace.

Artist and Fic Writer EOY Asks

Describe your journey this year in three words

A piece you're proud of and why

A fic or artwork you enjoyed

Creator you'd like to see more from

A scene you enjoyed creating

A scene you struggled with

Comfort character to create for

Most challenging character to write or draw

A work from another creator you keep coming back to

Fandom you created most for this year

Fandom you'd like to create more for next year

A concept you'd like to develop next year

A fic or artwork by another creator that made you happy

Something new you tried this year

An area of your art you feel you improved upon

Something interesting you researched as part of the process

The creation that took the least amount of time

The creation that took the most amount of time

A new genre or style you tried

Something that made you laugh

Something that made you emotional

An idea you had that didn't make the cut

Rec another creator's fic you wish more people would read

Rec another creator's artwork you wish more people would see

A scene or image that lives rent-free in your head

Something that inspired you this year

Shout-out to a commenter/reblogger who encourages you

A song that relates to one of your creations

Shout-out someone who inspires you

Advice to yourself (and maybe others) for the new year

Don't forget to tag!

[awwyeah107]

2024 Fic Recs

Hello and welcome to my fic recs from 2024 post :)

Like in 2023, the vast majority of fanfiction I read has been Tolkien-centric; my hyperfixation is still going strong, lol. I also got into Longmire (the TV show; I haven’t read the books yet), so there’s a handful of Longmire fanfics in here too. And as I said last year, buckle up, because it’s a pretty long post (this one’s got roughly 80 fics, not counting series!).

For each fic, I’ll give a one-sentence summary and then my thoughts on the fic! I’ll also mention whether the fic is a oneshot, doubleshot (2 chapters), or a multi-chapter fic, as well as the fic rating. I’m sorting the Tolkien fics into series, topic-based, character/time/place-focused, AUs & others, and then I’ll put the non-Tolkien fics at the end. I am including in-progress fics in each of those categories.

Credit to @cafekitsune for the galaxy banners used to separate the sections :)

Intro: What to Expect & Fics Legend

Expect: Lots of angst—LOTS of it. I didn’t realize how much there was until I went back through all of these! Also a bunch of fluff and hurt/comfort. Majority of fics are genfic. Mostly Silmfics; some Lord of the Rings and/or Hobbit characters are featured. Most fics are rated T, with a few rated G or M.

Do not expect: Stories with a focus on romantic!Russingon (or any other first cousins x cousins ships), smut, or excessively gory or dark stories. No E-rated fics.

Notes about formatting: Sometimes, the bullet points may be spaced out a little strangely; that’s because Tumblr won’t actually tag more than 5 people at once in a set of bullet points, so I have to space them out in order for people to get tagged properly. When a fic has quotation marks around the summary, that means it’s taken straight from the summary of the fic. Occasionally, I’ll consider a fic to be rated differently for my personal taste than it’s marked on AO3, and in those cases I will mention that. For example: G [AO3 rating] / T [personal rating]. Otherwise, ratings are from AO3.

Fics Legend/Key These emojis are used to denote any stories that have the following elements, and I’ll do my best to put appropriate warnings/mentions of certain potentially triggering topics as well, when needed. Most if not all the stories do have necessary tags or content warnings given by the author, so if I miss something, the author and/or the fic tags should tell you about it. My apologies if I do miss anything.

🔒 Fic only available to AO3 users

🩸 Features somewhat shocking or graphic violence and/or heavy topics (including abuse, severe trauma, mental illness, etc.)

*️⃣ Features background romantic!Russingon or other cousin ships

🏳️‍🌈 Features LGBTQ+/queer ships and/or characters (for those who do or do not prefer to read fics with queer ships/characters. If you have any questions about this, feel free to send me a DM.)

✍️ Fic is in progress/incomplete

Also, this may go without saying, but I feel like it does need saying: Your mileage may vary with these fics, especially those that are not particularly fluffy. So, read what you’re comfortable with, and don’t read or skip what you aren’t.

I will tag authors who are here on Tumblr; I've included multiple fics by the same authors, so I will only tag each author once.

To all the fic authors, people posting meta/analyses, and fan artists: Thank you for sharing your work with the world. Your stories, musings, and art have brought me a lot of joy (and frequently, encouragement) this past year, and it’s still kinda crazy to me that I can read or see it for free. Because you loved canon enough to make something from it, and you wanted to share the results of that love with others. Thank you. ❤️

Series

Annaáuchiwee by @thegreenleavesofspring (Brievel on AO3) & The_Anonymous_Coauthor 🩸✍️ - [Modern AU] The story of how a biker thug scrapes a street rat up off the street and discovers, for the first time in thirty years, that he has a conscience, which leads him halfway across the country and into a lifestyle of love and sacrifice that he had long forsworn. (In-progress series of 4 works, multi-chapters, T) Y’all. Y’all. I cannot recommend this series enough. If you follow my sideblog, @fandomsandfairytales, you have almost certainly seen me posting about this over there. This series is essentially set in the Sons of the Star universe, which is a “sons of Fëanor as a biker gang” modern AU, but it’s a step to the left of that AU. Annaáuchiwee is focused on the modern equivalent of Celegorm, named Riser Way, and his journey (both literal and figurative) to become an honorable man. I absolutely adore the characters and writing in this series. There’s so much: humor (and lots of it), angst (and lots of that too), violence, domestic fluff, thoughtful moments, and so much character growth. I get excited every time I see an update in my inbox! (Warning: The series features a fair amount of violence, and it deals with heavy topics, including trafficking, rape, and child abuse.)

On Elrond Peredhel by @elvinye (leodesic on AO3) ️*️⃣ 🏳️‍🌈 (Russingon + biological son Gil-Galad; prominent in one work) ✍️ - "A series examining Elrond's kidnap-adoption [and Elrond himself] from a variety of different characters’ perspectives." (In-progress series of 13 works, oneshots and doubleshots, all rated T or G.) I enjoy reading lots of different perspectives on kidnap fam, and I love how this series explores a huge spectrum of characters’ reactions to a very Noldorin Elrond. It’s so well-written and gives me major Elrond feels. Seeing Elrond through so many different lenses is really cool; I think leodesic does a great job handling each character’s inner narrative and also showing Elrond as a kind and caring yet assertive individual, no matter what that character thinks of him. If you are into pro-Fëanorian kidnap fam, you’ll like this series!

Quenta Nossëo by HonoraryDawn ✍️ - Elrond accidentally travels through time and space and arrives in Valinor just in time for Fëanor’s birth in the Years of the Trees; Elrond decides to change history and raise Fëanáro himself. (In-progress series of 2 works, multi-chapters, T) This is such a cool series! I love how it changes history, and all the twists and turns throughout! Nature vs. nurture is a key theme in Fëanor being raised by someone other than Finwë, and Fëanor’s development and the way tensions rise differently in Valinor in the Years of the Trees are fascinating. Highly recommend! (I also recommend Fanarts for Preventative Measures by Leira_E, which has several pieces of fan art and fan-written blurbs for the first installment in this series.)

Horrible Goose Fingon by @pearlescentpearl (PandaFlower on AO3) - Fingon, having experienced life in Beleriand, wakes up in the Years of the Trees Valinor and immediately decides to make it Morgoth’s problem. (In-progress series of 2 works, oneshots and multi-chapters, all rated T or G.) Fingon hits the ground running here, and his quick deductions and planning are so much fun to read! I enjoyed his interactions with Maedhros and with Ingwë’s family, and I’m looking forward to more.

Topic-Based

Post-Thangorodrim

I went through a period of time where I was really into rescue-from-Thangorodrim and post-Thangorodrim fics, so here are my top Maedhros-Thangorodrim-trauma recs from this year!

The Shackle by @valarhalla (Elisif on AO3) 🩸 - Fingon rescues Maedhros from the cliff of Thangorodrim. (Oneshot, M) This fic was exactly what I was looking for when I was craving a rescue-from-Thangorodrim fic!!! Masterfully written. It really depicted the sort of state Mae would have been in, neglected and hanging from the cliff as he was. The entire thing is SO angsty and incredibly heartrending and I loved it. (Warning: Graphic descriptions of injury, bodily fluids, and the effects of an extended period of physical neglect.)

Open Wounds by @markedasinfernal (theeventualwinner on AO3)🩸*️⃣ - “Maedhros' post-Thangorodrim recovery.” (12 chapters, M) I devoured this fic over two days and oh my goodness. What an amazingly well-written piece. I loveddddd all of the medical terminology and the very analytical (though never at the cost of emotional, or vice versa!) way Maedhros’ healing was approached. There’s so much angst and tension amongst the rest of the sons of Fëanor and Fingon as well, yet it is borne out of care for Maedhros, and that care is shown very clearly in all their interactions with Maedhros himself. The richness of the relationships in this fic is really beautiful. (Note: Any Russingon in this fic is very, very lightly implied. Warning: Descriptions of injury, physical trauma, and PTSD.)

Whoops, They’re Both Asleep by until_the_stars_are_all_alight - Findékano comes to visit Maitimo when he hears his cousin wanted “Káno” and finds Makalaurë [Kanáfinwë] is already there. (Oneshot, T) A short, absolutely adorable oneshot! It’s only 350 words, but everything is so well-portrayed: the tension between Fingon and Maglor, the way Maedhros is dealing with his recovery, the affection he has for both his brother and cousin. I’ve reread it a few times now and I love it more every time.

No Resemblance by Elisif - Nolofinwë struggles to recognise his nephew after his rescue from Angband. (2 chapters, incomplete, T) This is SO PAINFUL and angsty and so good. From Fingolfin barely recognizing Maedhros for who he was (when Fingon brought him back) to all the memories of young Maedhros in Valinor, it’s shot through with feelssssss.

Dawn by potatoesanddreams - Maedhros’ first sight of the Sun. (Oneshot, T) A proper drabble clocking in at 100 words. I really enjoyed this one—I was fascinated by the second person point of view for Maedhros! The descriptions are so evocative and eloquent.

More About the Things that You Take With by @imnotdyingbutyouallare - Maedhros struggles with Maglor cutting his hair. (Oneshot, T) There is so much gentleness in this fic despite how much Maedhros is still suffering, and so much awareness of each other on both Maglor and Maedhros’ parts, which I loved. Even a “simple” thing such as cutting Maedhros’ hair is difficult for him, and I could really feel the fragility of Maedhros’ state of mind throughout. So, so good!!!

breakdown by @leucisticpuffin 🔒 - Maglor breaks down and Maedhros struggles to comfort him. (Oneshot, T) Oh my goodness, ugh. This is soooo painful and I love it. I feel terribly for Maglor, and for Maedhros feeling so helpless. What an angsty vignette of their relationship in the immediate aftermath of Maedhros’ rescue.

Let them see! by BarbieBlue - Maglor attempts to console Maedhros in a difficult moment during Maedhros’ recovery. (Oneshot, T) I loved reading this fic! I felt the acute frustration on Maedhros’ part that he can do so little and Maglor’s intense guilt. Maglor’s compassion and determination to prove to his brother that he cares is very compelling. (Fingon’s bewilderment at the end is rather hilarious, too.)

Us Against the World by @annoyinglandmagazine (Caranthirwasalesbian on AO3) - It’s the first feast after Maedhros’ recovery, and he realizes only having one hand makes table manners difficult. (Oneshot, G) To me, this fic really demonstrates how much the sons of Fëanor care for each other, and I simply adore it. It’s a beautiful picture of love on a practical level.

Crablor

Oneshots of our favorite singing elf-turned-crustacean, Crablor!

Soft-Shelled Soul by @thescrapwitch (theScrap_Witch on AO3) 🔒 - Maedhros learns from Námo that his brother has been transformed into a crab, and he is determined to find him and bring him home. (Oneshot, G) I really enjoyed this lovely Crablor story! I loved the fact that it was Maedhros and Celegorm who found Maglor—it makes perfect sense to not only have Maedhros, the caring older brother, searching but also Celegorm, the one who knows animal languages. Everything back in Valinor (the reactions! Maglor’s new living space!) are wonderful, too.

The Trial of Crablor Fëanorion by theScrap_Witch 🔒 - Maglor, in crab form, is put on trial for his crimes. (Oneshot, G) This fic could very well go in my humor section as well as the Crablor section. I found myself laughing throughout, and even typing this I’m smiling just thinking about it. The format of a court trial record is delightful, along with all the shenanigans included for the sake of the record!

lured to be loved by LadyHaleth - Elladan and Elrohir search for their long-lost grandfather…who they discover has been turned into a different form. (Oneshot, T) A sweet adventure! Elladan and Elrohir’s dedication to finding and caring for Maglor is so admirable, and I enjoyed their dynamic as twins and with Maglor. The details in every scene really make this fic! (And don’t miss the awesome art in the middle, since the art and fic were one of the TRSB collabs for this year.)

Humor

to speak, to scream and laugh with the echo by @artandsuffering (Tamatoa (SaltandtheSoul) on AO3) - When Maglor wakes up in the past after the Fourth Age, he decides to make it Sauron’s problem. (Oneshot, T) This fic is SO FREAKING FUNNY. The understated humor in this is incredible, and I love the phrasing throughout. The framing of the atmosphere of Angband as a corporate workplace of sorts (while still being fully in Middle-Earth, of course) simply makes this fic.

This Battle Could Have Been An E-mail by @tilion-writes (Tilion on AO3) ✍️ - A series of emails in Maedhros’ inbox throughout the ages. (4 chapters, in progress, T) INCREDIBLY hilarious. The email addresses, the domains for the email addresses (nargothrond.com! himring.net!), the email sign-offs for each of the characters, the subject lines, the files, the messages (including punctuation and tone of professionalism, or lack thereof) from each character—all of it was priceless.

Please Do Not by @mynameisjessejk - “In which Maedhros has all the foresight of the House of Feanaro and uses it entirely to prevent brother and cousin shenanigans.” (Oneshot, bullet-point, T) This fic is absolutely hysterical. I probably broke something trying so hard not to laugh (I was reading this when there were people around). The phrase “the transitive property of Finrod” still lives rent-free in my head months after I read it XD This fic also turned out to be really heartwarming and gave me many feels. So, so, so good.

How Dare by @catkin-morgs-kookaburralover (ATalkingCat on AO3) - The palantir experiences Pippin picking it up. (Oneshot, G) I laughed out loud multiple times reading this. It’s a short, delightful read with a VERY snarky palantir point of view, and I highly enjoyed it!

Give A Whistle by Prackspoor - “After the sacking of Ost-in-Edhil, the Dark Lord Sauron ordered his prisoners crucified and carried at the head of his army as banners so that their approach would strike fear into the hearts of his enemies; no one could have imagined that the last resistance of the Elven City had no plans to go out quietly… literally.” (Oneshot, T) A VERY humorous, somewhat dark oneshot (with a second chapter solely for references). It’s very Monty-Python-esque, with some direct Monty Python references, so if you enjoy that sort of humor, this will be right up your alley. The sympathetic orc captain point of view is fantastic! (Warning: There’s a few dark mentions/descriptions of torture.)

Romance-focused

Tax Fraud and Picnics by @thesummerestsolstice - Haleth and baby Erestor convince Caranthir to go on a picnic. (Oneshot, G) I’ve got three words for this fic: SUPER. DUPER. CUTE. This fic is as sweet as candy. I adore how much Caranthir loves Haleth, and the light humor sprinkled throughout made me grin (the Caranthir-Turgon arguments over taxes will never not be funny to me).

Mending by theScrap_Witch 🔒 - “Caranthir sits by Haleth’s side as she dies and thinks of his family, his life, and his craft.” (Oneshot, T) Very sweet! I loved how the story wove Caranthir’s memories into the present day (pun very much intended), and his love for his craft is so beautiful. I also really enjoyed the visitors at the end :)

Your Eyes Are Like Knives (And I Really Like Knives) by @sweetteaanddragons (Drag0nst0rm on AO3) - Haleth knows that Caranthir is hiding something, and she is determined to find out what it is. (Oneshot, T) I saw that this fic was going to be part of TRSB 2024 a few days before the fics all got released, and I was so excited to read it! I had a fantastic time eagerly devouring it with much excitement and laughter, and as per usual, I thoroughly enjoyed Haleth flustering Caranthir.

Yours Dearly, Most Sincerely by Drag0nst0rm - “Five times Nerdanel had to help Feanaro write a letter, and one time he returned the favor. (And two times they had to write a letter alone.)” (Doubleshot, T) This fic both filled me up with the love Fëanor and Nerdanel had for each other (and their sons!) and ripped me to pieces with angst. The way Nerdanel often balances out Fëanor’s fiery spirit when it comes to composing a letter—and the way he chooses to listen to her!—is wonderful to read; the scene with the third letter practically gave me a heart attack from how adorably fluffy it was. Of course, this makes it all the more heartbreaking when they are apart. A very emotional read all around!

Breaking Into Light by @starspray ✍️ - Glingaereth happens to meet Fingon, the crown prince of the Noldor, and the two begin to take an interest in each other. (4 chapters, in progress, T) I haven’t read any Fingon x OFC fics before, and I really liked this one! Glingaereth and the other original characters stand well on their own, and the chemistry between Glingaereth and Fingon feels natural. I also liked the outside perspectives of the Noldor royal family and the uneasiness amongst the Sindar about the sense of doom following the Noldor.

Nothing in the World is Single by StarSpray - Eärendil and Elwing become friends…and then more. (5 chapters, T [AO3 rating] / G [personal rating]) This is so sweet! I really enjoyed this fic—the easy pacing, Eärendil’s friendly nature, and Elwing’s more reserved personality all combine to make a great read. The descriptions are wonderful, and I liked Eärendil and Elwing’s adventures.

Character, Time, or Place-Focused

Kidnap Fam

What matters is ‘you’ and not the state of you. by @havenotwillnotreadthebooks (EclecticKefi on AO3) - “Maglor contemplates the Peredhel that he and his brother have taken in, then contemplates the effect of this new life on Maedhros.” (Doubleshot, T) This was such an enjoyable read! I loved reading Maglor’s reflections, especially on Maedhros as a father figure to Elrond and Elros. I also enjoyed reading how the twins’ nature as peredhel (and being somewhat eldritch to boot) affects their domestic life with Maglor and Maedhros.

I keep my enemies closer than the mirror ever gets to me by EclecticKefi 🔒 - Elrond and Elros hide in Maglor’s closet and overhear Maedhros and Maglor talking. (Oneshot, T) This fic is both heartbreaking and heartwarming in multiple ways. The two peredhel have seen far too much trauma and suffering in their young lives, but their empathy is really sweet. Also, I’m always a fan of eldritch!peredhel, so I liked the notes of that scattered throughout the story.

On Monsters and Lullabies by Tilion - Maglor is the one the twins like, not Maedhros, and Maglor confronts his brother. (Oneshot, T) I will never tire of the angstiness of Maedhros and Maglor arguing over the twins and the role they play in their lives, nor how Maedhros becomes someone the twins can trust. Maglor’s softness with the twins is so sweet (baby Elrond and Elros are ADORABLE), and the reflections (both Maglor’s and Maedhros’) on how much Maedhros had changed since being in Valinor are really well-written.

And Love Grew by @polutrope (polutropos on AO3) ✍️ - Maedhros and Maglor deal with the aftermath of their attack on Sirion, and Maglor leads their host—including two young peredhel and their caretaker—to Amon Ereb. (6 chapters, in progress, T) A wonderfully complex, angsty, deeply woven tale. Every character and relationship has so many layers, and polutropos does a great job of exploring the darkness of the Oath and the ripple affect it has on the sons of Fëanor, their followers, and the people of Sirion.

And when we’re in the dark, it echoes in your heart by ElectricKefi - Elros unintentionally triggers Maedhros’ Sauron-related trauma. (Oneshot, T) Poor Maedhros AND poor Elros! The idea that the peredhel with Maia blood would bring back Maedhros’ memories of being tortured by Sauron—especially when Elros is trying to help him—is so sad. I loved the instantly-on-alert Maglor who is there to de-escalate the situation, too.

though the shadow closes in by millyfaraway - Maglor and Maedhros strategize to keep Elrond and Elros safe. (Oneshot, T) I really like the dialogue and OCs in this one! The discussion of Sauron and Morgoth’s desire for the peredhel, the plans to keep moving, and the connection Maedhros and Maglor share all flow quite well.

First Age Beleriand

Finwëons & Fëanorians:

Mind the Gap by Tilion - Maglor visits Himring. (Oneshot, T) Loved reading this!! Great characterization of both the characters themselves and their relationship. They are SUCH siblings in this, and I really enjoyed reading them snarking at each other and checking up on each other and seeking to ensure all was truly well. I’ll also never pass up a scene with Maglor braiding Maedhros’ hair.

The Light Behind Your Eyes by Tilion ✍️ - Scenes of Maglor and Maedhros after Thangorodrim. (2 chapters, in progress, T) I love how beautifully this portrays Maglor and Maedhros’ relationship. It balances the past and the present really well. Even though Maedhros is still clearly suffering from his time in Angband, this fic has a calm tone to it, and I can see the healing taking place in Maedhros’ spirit. A lovely read.

Scribbles and Squabbles by @dreamingthroughthenoise (Alantie on AO3) 🔒 - An argument between the Fëanorians, through letters. (7 chapters, T) This was a delight to read! Humorous at times, and heartfelt at others. I could pick up on the underlying hurt and desire to be seen that sparked the argument, and the love and care rising from the letters as things resolved. (The very clear and present sass was quite fun, too.)

Gingerbread Cookies by Elisif - Aredhel and Fingon supervise Idril and Tyelpë while they make Christmas cookies. (Oneshot, G) This is such an adorable fic—tiny Idril and Celebrimbor are so cute, and I loved Aredhel and Fingon’s brother-sister relationship. Their interactions have such fond sibling energy!

A Mere Shadow by Elisif - Maglor comes to visit Maedhros and is reminded of Thingol’s Quenya ban. (Oneshot, T) So good and so sad! I could immediately feel the shift in Maglor’s mood when Maedhros inadvertently reminds him of the ban, and the sorrow oozing from both brothers, as if from a wound.

the raging storm of a foreign war, and a face i'd seen before by @arafinweanappreciation (TelerinJedi on AO3) - Finarfin comes to Beleriand. (Oneshot, T) This fic is short yet so expressive!! I love Finarfin seeing Tol Sirion and him talking about avenging his son in such a terrifyingly calm manner.

Ill-Tidings by TheScrap_Witch 🔒 - Maedhros brings news to Curufin that Nargothrond has fallen. (Oneshot, T) Poor Curufin 😭 This fic has all the dad!Curufin feels!!!! Curufin’s humanity (or elvish equivalent, lol) shines through in this fic in his anguish over his son. His grief and rage are so palpable (and so well-written!).

Too Big, Too Heavy by @hwestalas - Maedhros visits the new High King of the Noldor after the Dagor Bragollach. (Oneshot, T) Aaaaaaaaaaaaaa. Fingon’s grief over Fingolfin is so raw and real, and I love how he tries to keep it together but fails in the face of Maedhros’ calm, devoted friendship. Such a great read.

ever an anguish that pursued by @thelordofgifs (TheChasm on AO3) 🩸 - Maglor tries to save Maedhros from the fire, but he keeps waking up. (Oneshot, T) UGH SO ANGSTY. So so angsty. All of the “what if”s that Maglor dreams could have happened are so terribly sad, because he can see so many ways out that don’t involve Maedhros jumping into the chasm. (Warning: suicide and multiple near-suicide attempts.)

stone on the board by @dalliansss - The Finwëons play games with politics in Beleriand at Mithrim. (Oneshot, T) So good! Love the politicking going on in this fic, primarily between Maedhros and Finrod. Quite an intriguing read.

there's no timer on grief 🔒 by Kat_isaconfusedbean - After Losgar, Amras mourns. (Oneshot, T) This is SO painful. Especially for how short this fic is. My heart aches for Amras (and for Celegorm). I love Celegorm coming to comfort his brother, along with Huan.

Unrepentent by theScrap_Witch 🔒 - Maedhros will not give up on obtaining the last Silmarils. (Oneshot, T) The Oath has Maedhros in its grip so tightly in this fic (along with his own memories and experiences), and it’s horrifying yet understandable to see him act and think the way he does. I love the dynamic between Maedhros and Maglor in this fic, too.

the ways of birds by @welcomingdisaster (welcoming_disaster on AO3) - “When Maglor is captured in the aftermath of the Nirnaeth Arnoediad, he doesn't expect a rescue. (for the prompts maglor + maedhros + "need to keep quiet" & "roadside wound tending.”)” (Oneshot, T) SO MUCH MAGLOR WHUMP. And so much tension, too. I could really feel Maglor’s raw, gritty pain and the ugly experiences he endured. It made the comfort part of “hurt/comfort” that much more relieving when he was, indeed, rescued.

Non-Finwëons:

Mad, Not Angry by AfricanDaisy - Young Thranduil is woken from a thunderstorm, and searches for a source of comfort: his father. (Oneshot, G) SO so cute! I could really feel Thranduil’s panic in searching for Oropher, and then his simultaneous relief and upset when he did find him. The descriptions are vivid and well-crafted, very fun to read!

no vela, no orion by TelerinJedi - A comment from Andreth’s sister causes her to wonder if she is in love with Nóm (or vice versa), and it is harder to have a discussion with him about this than she thinks. (Oneshot, G) The adolescent awkwardness and embarrassment in this fic brings me back to my teenage days XD This is really sweet though, truly. A light bit of fluff!

Second and Third Age Middle-Earth

living arrows sent forth by @balrogballs (timelessutterances on AO3) - Thranduil and Elrond discuss fatherhood at Arwen and Aragorn’s wedding reception. (Oneshot, T) SO. SO. GOOD. I seriously love the phrasing in this one, as well as Thranduil’s and Elrond’s characterizations, their long-held opinions and memories of each other, and their discussion of parenthood. Thranduil is so snarky and Elrond so earnest. Phenomenal all the way through.

rumors of my death have been greatly exaggerated by @lighttrls (thunder_and_stars on AO3) - Unaware of elves’ habit of sleeping with their eyes open, Estel finds Elladan unmoving with his eyes open and thinks he must be dead. (Oneshot, T) POOR BABY ESTEL aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa. The angst is off the charts in this one; my heart was breaking for tiny Aragorn. I was so glad that his assumption was corrected, in the end.

i'm fine, i prom- by thunder_and_stars - Elladan and Estel are captured by orcs and tortured. (Oneshot, T) Oh my goodness, I wanted to kill each and every orc right along with Elladan. The descriptions of the orcs’ actions, their impact on Estel physically, and the impact on Elladan emotionally were so vivid. It’s some good, heavy whump (with some comfort at the end).

sticks and stones may break my bones by thunder_and_stars - Some people don’t like the fact that Estel lives with the elves. (Oneshot, T) Once again, right there with one of the twins on wanting to beat up people for mistreating Estel. The way Estel tried to hide his injuries and then admitted what happened and what was said and done to him was so sad. Lots of hurt/comfort here.

A Long Way To Go In The Morning by @nocompromise-noregrets (likethenight on AO3) 🔒 - “The night before the Fellowship of the Ring leaves Rivendell, Elladan and Elrohir give Aragorn some encouragement.” (Oneshot, T) I really enjoyed this one! Elladan and Elrohir are such good brothers to Aragorn, and the way they lifted his spirits was really sweet. I liked the discussion of mortality as well as the hopefulness that the twins had about the Quest and Aragorn’s success.

Advice Unlooked For by sehellys - Aragorn talks to Elladan and Elrohir when they return from the Wild, and then he goes to the Feast in the Hall of Fire. (Oneshot, T) The descriptions in this one are simply beautiful—and so is the dialogue! I loved the shift from serious to “shenanigans mode” after the twins update Aragorn on what’s going on in the outside world.

Re-embodiment in Valinor

Red, Red Moon (Keep On Rising) by Tilion 🏳️‍🌈 (Celegorm/Oromë features somewhat prominently, especially in the back half) - Celegorm wakes up outside Mandos with two silver-haired elflings and no memories; he sets off to bring the boys to their parents and figure out his identity. (24 chapters, T) This was such a fun fic to keep up with as it got updates! Celegorm and the twins (kidnap fam 2.0, one might say) were incredibly adorable. I loved Legolas and Tauriel’s inclusion, and I highly enjoyed the whole identity crisis Celegorm went through (seriously, it was awesome). Celegorm feels SO Celegorm to me in this fic: cocky, rough around the edges, more caring than he’d like to admit. Overall there’s so much to this fic, and the twists and turns kept me on the edge of my seat.

Hemlock and Niphredil by theScrap_Witch 🔒 - “In Fourth Age Valinor, Elrond and Thingol connect over a shared love of gardening and grief for their daughters.” (Oneshot, T) I had never really thought about Elrond and Thingol’s similarities before this fic, and I loved getting to read them interacting and forming a friendship! Both have lost daughters by the choice to give up immortality, yet they have quite different personalities (and a complicated family tree), and it’s beautiful to see them connect through their shared experiences. (It’s also interesting to read Thingol portrayed in a more sympathetic light than most fics—yet not without his imperfections, certainly.)

Memento Vivere (Remember, You Must Live) by Drag0nst0rm - “Maedhros and Maglor have a long overdue discussion of what happened at the edge of that chasm - and what happened after.” (Oneshot, T) UGH so GOOD and so ANGSTY. There are so many emotional beats in this fic, and I found myself bracing for each one. I painfully love Maglor’s instincts when it comes to protecting/taking care of Maedhros after all these years, and how he doesn’t want the people he loves to be hurt because of him—though he has been in so much pain himself, and Maedhros sees that. Really, really good. (Warning: Discussion of suicide.)

White Water Flowing by StarSpray ✍️ - In Valinor and homesick for Imladris, Celebrían decides to build a new one. (6 chapters, in progress, T) This is such a lovely fic!! I’ve really enjoyed reading it. I love Celebrían’s characterization—many people underestimate her, and it’s wonderful to see her bloom after healing in Lórien. She simultaneously has a gentle soul and an admirable tenacity and drive. I also love reading her interacting with members of Elrond’s family and seeing how those relationships develop.

Handle with Care by theScrap_Witch 🔒 - “When Fëanor left the Halls of the Dead, he did not expect Mahtan to be the one waiting for him.” (Oneshot, T) I loved this!!! I don’t see a lot of Mahtan and Fëanor interactions, and I really enjoyed reading their conversation. (I grinned at Mahtan telling Fëanor off about Nerdanel. I haven’t seen that before and I’ve really wanted to, so it was quite satisfying.) It’s clear that they both carry a lot of grief, and they have a familiar relationship underpinning everything.

From Ruins We Grow by TheScrap_Witch 🔒✍️ - Fëanor learns how to live again (and how to garden!) when he is returned to life and placed under Yavanna’s responsibility to tend a small corner of Valinor. (7 chapters, in progress, T) I get so excited whenever I see an update for this fic in my inbox! There’s so much feeling in this fic, which is very fitting for Fëanáro’s fiery, intense character. It’s in turns amusing and exasperating to see him humbled by learning a new craft, yet I always find myself rooting for him in his endeavors. I love the relationships he forms with the visitors to his garden, and all the sweet memories of his sons practically make my heart melt.

AUs

In-Universe AUs

An Unexpected Rescue by SpaceWall - Fëanor realizes that someone has taken on the form of his half-brother Fingolfin, and that the real Fingolfin has disappeared. (Doubleshot, T) This is SUCH a cool AU!!! I really enjoyed reading this one. I love Fëanor’s insistence on figuring out what happened and finding Fingolfin, though of course in denial that he cares for his brother deep down. I’d say more but I don’t want to spoil it!

Will You Greet the Daylight Looming? by Tilion - Maglor persuades Maedhros to live. (Oneshot, T) Oh, this fic is terribly, delightfully angsty. I love how Maglor and Maedhros’ relationship is portrayed here, and the vivid imagery really brings it to life. Lots of thee/thou and ‘dearest’ language, too!

Reforged by theScrap_Witch 🔒🩸🏳️‍🌈 (background Celebrimbor/Gil-Galad) - Maeglin survives the fall of Gondolin, and Celebrimbor and others help him to find his way to healing. (20 chapters, G [AO3 rating] / T [personal rating]) What a story. Just—what a story. It takes you on a rollercoaster of emotion and growth and change and just, wow. I am so freaking proud of Maeglin in this fic, and I love his characterization. He digs his claws into life and doesn’t let go, and it’s incredible to see his transformation over the course of centuries. I also loved the inclusion of many other Second and Third Age characters in this story and how Maeglin’s life becomes intertwined with theirs. This fic is angsty and agonizing on so many levels, but it is fiercely emotional and cathartic in good ways too. I really enjoyed getting to follow along with this fic as it was published!

Scion of Mystery by Tilion 🏳️‍🌈 (minor Erestor/Curufin) - Elrond is determined to uncover Gil-galad’s true parentage. (7 chapters, T) Absolutely BUCK WILD Gil-Galad theory. Complete and total plot twist that I did NOT see coming until a few sentences before it was revealed!! Elrond’s shenanigans along the way to uncover Gil-Galad’s parentage were so much fun to read. Features kidnap fam and Celrond, along with other Fëanorians.

Parley AUs This is a subset of in-universe AUs where someone other than Maedhros gets taken at the parley with Morgoth. Apparently this was the year for me to get into parley AUs, and it even inspired me to write my own, lol!

The Price We Pay by theScrap_Witch 🔒🩸 - “In which Makalaurë goes to parlay with Morgoth, Findekáno still performs his dramatic rescue, and Maitimo struggles with both his little brother’s recovery and his responsibilities as king.” (Oneshot, T) This fic yanked out my heart and stomped on it and then tossed it off a cliff for good measure. I’ve read a few different Maglor-is-taken-at-the-parley fics, but oh boy, this one poured on the FEELS. Everything in this fic is heartbreaking—from Maglor’s belief that he is a “pretty bird” meant to sing to Morgoth, to Maedhros’ distrust/fear of Fingolfin, to all of Maglor’s brothers’ pain over his traumatized state—yet there is an undercurrent of hope that slowly rises throughout the story. It’s so well-written, and I highly, highly recommend it.

Despair Like Poison by theScrap_Witch 🔒 - “Thinking that he’s protecting his family, Maedhros rides to the parlay alone, unaware that Morgoth has a different trick in mind.” (Oneshot, bullet-point, T) Sooooo so angsty!! I really can’t say much about this without spoilers, but aaaaaaaaa. Maedhros is firm about his decision to go, but he’s so gentle with his brothers at the moment of departure, which makes what happens after so much worse.

A Crown of Bones by theScrap_Witch 🔒 - Maitimo and Makalaurë are taken in the parley with Morgoth, and Tyelkormo must take up the crown. (Oneshot, T) I really liked this AU! Celegorm has a lot to deal with here, both in being the oldest Fëanorion and being king of their people. The reminder that he can handle himself in political situations and display his power in words—not just physical action—is fantastic, and the way he cares so deeply for his younger brothers and misses his oldest two is heartwrenching.

Boldness Be My Friend by @a-tehta (tehta on AO3) - Celegorm has been captured by Morgoth, and it is up to Aredhel and Huan to rescue him from the cliff of Thangorodrim. (Oneshot, T) This one is surprisingly humorous for being a rescue-from-Thangorodrim fic, yet also sweet! I really loved getting a Huan POV (so cool), and I enjoyed Aredhel getting to be the rescuer. (There is a bit of implied future Celegorm/Aredhel at the end, but it’s mostly, if not entirely, played for humor.)

Modern AUs

Little Stars, Little Souls by Tamatoa (SaltandtheSoul) - Fëanor looks for his second son, who is dressed up for Halloween. (Oneshot, G) SUPER. CUTE. This is some of the fluffiest fluff to ever fluff and I was just gobbling it up. Baby Maglor is the cutest thing and I love Fëanor as a dad here.

the adventures of Elf Guy by red_01 - “A group of friends obsessed with The Silmarillion discovers a guy who bears a resemblance to Maglor—and uncover the truth.” (Oneshot, T) This was so much fun to read (and highly amusing)! The Twitter format was a great choice, and I’m impressed by the dedication to it. I enjoyed the back-and-forth chaos, internet-typical keysmashes and all caps, and references to artists in the Tolkien fandom (e.g., Clamavi de Profundis, “Phobs-style” cosplays).

Cookies by Brievel 🔒 - Girl Scouts visit the Ways’ house. (Oneshot, G) This absolutely delighted me. I love everything about it—the POV of the girl scouts, the way they were all intimidated by Max, a cameo by Nell, Birdie yelling for cookies in the background. It’s so sweet and made me grin so much.

Valentines Flowers by Brievel 🔒 - “Max brings Misty flowers.” (Oneshot, G) Max and Misty are just straight-up ADORABLE. The way they interact and how they familiar they are with each other’s habits shows how comfortable they are with each other. They both are down so bad, and I love to see it. I also love to see Max doing something nice for Misty :)

Other Tolkien Fics

These are fics that didn’t fit into any other category or had less than three fics within each category.

Miscellaneous:

The War of the Ring by @winterinhimring (morwen_of_gondor on AO3) - The sons of Fëanor are re-embodied and sent to Middle-Earth to atone for their crimes during the Third Age when the Quest for the Ring begins. (42 chapters, T) PSA: if you’ve read The Silmarillion and The Lord of the Rings, you must read this. Required reading. I am only very slightly joking. This story is absolutely PHENOMENAL. I was curious to see what the sons of Fëanor joining the Fellowship would be like, and I was blown away by how beautifully written it is. Y’all. It’s written in the style of The Lord of the Rings books. Like, legitimately. I never knew how much I needed to see the Fëanorions interacting with the hobbits, or showing the strength of ancient Valinorian-born elves in battle, and it all being written in true Tolkienian style is so incredibly wonderful. I can’t recommend this enough.

Joys to Come by @darkfrozenabyss - “Glorfindel, from Tirion to Rivendell.” (7 chapters, T) Loved this fic!!! I love darkfrozenabyss’ characterization of Glorfindel so much. There are so many emotionally powerful, simple and sweet, and feels-inducing moments in this story, and I really enjoyed Glorfindel’s family and how close he is with them!

Years of the Trees Valinor:

Little Father by feanorianswelcome 🔒 - “Maitimo finds little Atarinkë and brings him home for luncheon.” (Oneshot, G) Cute little Curufin oneshot with big brother Maitimo! I haven’t read a lot of Curufin & Maedhros together, so this was enjoyable (and very sweet).

Fine Feathers, Pretty Songs by an_evasive_author - Everyone loves tiny Findaráto (as they should). (Oneshot, G) SO. FREAKING. CUTE. All the fluff for Findaráto! I loved him so much (and the writing style of this fic, too).

Rings of Power:

Look into the Mirror (Tell Me What You See) by Drag0nst0rm - Second Age!Gil-Galad and Rings of Power!Gil-Galad switch places. (3 chapters, T) I have watched one (1) episode of the Rings of Power series, but I have thankfully read enough articles about it that I understand enough to read this fic! It’s a highly amusing and enjoyable read :) The difference in Gil-Galads is quite noticeable, and I loved seeing Second Age!Gil-Galad quite surprised at his (supposed) past actions in RoP, whereas RoP!Gil-Galad is a little less aware of the change in his surroundings (but everyone else certainly is).

Another Skin by crystal_buizel - Second Age!Elrond and Rings of Power!Elrond switch places (based off of “Look into the Mirror (Tell Me What You See)”). (Doubleshot, T) Another swapped places fic! Poor Elrond in both situations, but especially poor Second Age!Elrond. Like the other fic, I can’t say too much about it without spoilers, but this one is also enjoyable, with a bit more angst on the part of both Elronds.

Tumblr Oneshots:

just you wait by @lintamande - “being brilliant in mind and swift in action she had early absorbed all of what she was capable of the teaching which the Valar thought fit to give the Eldar…” (T) I really liked this oneshot! Galadriel in her youth is rather clueless when it comes to social interactions, though she is vastly intelligent in intellectual matters, and I can feel her frustration, restlessness, and pride so strongly in this. Really well-written.

Oropher and Celeborn have a conversation by @amethysttribble - At a party, Oropher and Celeborn talk about the line of Lúthien. (T) SO good!!!! I loved this so much. Oropher and Celeborn’s characterization and views on things make a lot of sense, and I love how their discussion flows. They are the last two of Doriath, and that weight on their shoulders is so evident throughout this fic.

Non-Tolkien Fics

Longmire

A Never Ending Bake Sale by ladygray99 - Walt and Henry spend a casual evening together at The Red Pony. (Oneshot, T) I absolutely loved reading this fic. I feel like ladygray99 really nailed the characters, their relationship, and their mannerisms. Everything in Walt and Henry’s conversation, said and unsaid, felt very natural and relaxed. You can feel the depth of their 38-year-long friendship and how comfortable with each other they are. Although I’ve only seen the TV show and not read the books, I liked how it incorporated things from both. A great read!

Every Page You Turn You’re Writing (Typing) Your Legacy by @cminerva and @whatamess 🔒 - “For nearly four decades, Mathias has found many reasons to admire Ms. Ruby Mason née Taylor and in that time Ms. Ruby has found just as many reasons to be fond—and so proud—of the man Mathias has become.” (Oneshot, T) Oh my GOSH. This fic is adorable and cringy (in the best way!) and so freaking cute. I highly enjoyed the descriptions of Durant high school in the early 80s, complete with a typing class; although I wasn’t alive at the time, it feels quite realistic. I loved seeing Mathias’ journey through high school into adulthood and the way his and Ruby’s friendship developed over time, from Mathias’ schoolboy crush to his respect for the amazing woman she is. Mathias and Ruby’s friendship has now become canon to me, to the point where I’ll watch episodes and get excited whenever these two characters (who, for anyone who doesn’t know the show, are minor characters and very rarely interact) get to see each other, even only for a quick nod or short smile.

Something New by cminerva - Though they’ve known each other for years, May Stillwater and Mathias Littlesun have never been friends—and indeed, they’ve been enemies before—but perhaps it’s time for something new. (Oneshot, T) I am now a May/Mathias shipper after reading this fic XD I really liked how this not only addressed the (admittedly few) interactions they had in the TV show but also added more “off-screen” ones to give more depth to their on-screen appearances. They have a lot of reason to dislike each other, but I loved how in this fic, they began to see reasons to respect each other and then caught feelings. So cute!

Quigley Down Under

Morning Sun by Brievel 🔒 - Matthew and Cora wake up together. (Oneshot, G) This fic is SO SOFT. I can totally picture this happening as an epilogue after the end of the movie, and I can hear their voices so well. The details are quite lovely. Quigley Down Under is a pretty niche film, but if you’ve seen it, you deserve to read this fic!

I mentioned this at the start, but I wanted to reiterate because I truly am very grateful—To all the fic authors, people posting meta/analyses, and fan artists: Thank you for sharing your work with the world. Your stories, musings, and art have brought me a lot of joy (and frequently, encouragement) this past year, and it’s still kinda crazy to me that I can read or see it for free. Because you loved canon enough to make something from it, and you wanted to share the results of that love with others. Thank you. ❤️

And thank you to all who read this far XD Hope you enjoy some (or all!) of these fics!

Other Fic Rec Lists: 2023 Fic Recs, Fic Recs for Elrond Week 2024 (on fandomsandfairytales)

[jessjad]

Rightfully deceived

Epilogue

Summary: When a marriage promise forces Y/N to step up for her younger sister, she gets something she always wanted. But when the truth comes out, her new husband Dean is not so happy about the mix-up. Will she loose it all? Or will she be surprised in the end?

Pairing: AU!Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 1079

Warnings: none really.

A/N: I hope you all had wonderful holidays and a good start into the new year! 😁 And here is the end of my story. All mistakes are mine! Enjoy!

Series Masterlist My Masterlist

One year later...

It was late November again, a bitterly cold wind was blowing across the country and the first snow had already fallen. A sight that always made Y/N wistful. She looked out the window across the white fields and icy trees to the horizon, behind which the sun had now almost disappeared. The orange-red light made the snow sparkle. Her mom had loved winter, which made the memories of her death bittersweet.

A lot had happened in the last year and Y/N had often wished she could exchange a few words with her mom, ask her for advice or just hug her. She had been the good soul of her clan and had cared for everyone. A trait that the young woman hoped she had inherited. But there was no way to talk to her anymore and so Y/N had to do a lot of things alone for the first time.

It had often been difficult or even frightening, but Millie had always been by her side and supported her from woman to woman. But not just her. Dean hadn't left her alone anymore either. Although it wasn't always that easy for him too. But each situation had strengthened their relationship more and more.

When Y/N thought of her husband, she couldn't help but smile. She had loved him for so long and her heart almost burst with happiness because Dean had also loved her before. Even if it took him a long time to realize it. And he had tried to explain it to her over and over again. The Alex incident had been followed by many long nights of conversation. Honest, open hours full of feelings and affection. There had been days when she no longer believed that this was even possible.

The door behind her opened and Dean walked in, carrying some firewood under his arm. As soon as he saw his wife standing at the window turning to him with a loving smile, he had to smile too. What kind of year had it been? It had had its ups and downs and often wasn't easy, but they had persevered through everything together.

It had shocked his clan when Dean had shot Alex. Many people didn't understand it at first, but there were enough witnesses on the tower who could confirm the necessity. But it probably hit Cassie the most. In the days that followed, she seemed completely different. She had withdrawn and appeared thoughtful. After about four days, she had sincerely apologized to Y/N and Dean for her behavior and told them that she couldn't stay here any longer.

Y/N had reacted to this with mixed feelings. After all, Cassie hadn't tried to drive her away or kill her. And even though she was offended by her behavior, his wife had shown compassion. In the end, she could understand what it was like to be in love with someone for a long time without those feelings being reciprocated. But Cassie couldn't stay any longer and so they let her go.

"You okay there, my love?" asked Dean as he put more firewood on the fire.

"Yes, yes. It's just this time of year and the snow." Y/N answered and turned back to the window.

Dean stood up again and came over to her. He put his arms around her from behind and looked out into the wintry world with her for a while. He knew that it made her a little melancholy, but that also passed.

"I just prefer summer." she turned around in Dean's arms. "Especially when you're on the high seas."

He had to chuckle at that and hugged his wife a little tighter.

Y/N had accompanied him on many business trips and in May Dean had extended the business trip by three weeks and had taken her to France. Also so that he could show her the stars on the open sea on clear early summer nights.

"We can do that again next year." he replied, which earned him a beaming smile from his wife.

"But you know it won't be as easy as this year, right? After all, we're not alone anymore."

Dean smiled now. "Which probably makes it even nicer." He gave her a quick kiss on the lips and let go of Y/N to go to the second door in the bedroom, which was open a crack and gave a small glimpse into the room behind it.

They had had to switch bedrooms three months ago and had now moved into a larger room because they simply needed the extra space. And they were also closer to Sam and Millie, who had finally gotten married in July and were now overjoyed themselves.

"How is he doing?"

"No! Stop, Dean! You're gonna wake Connor up!" Y/N whispered loudly with a chuckle as she saw how Dean attempted to open the door a little further.

"He'll be fine." He replied, but hesitated for a second before he opened the door a little more.

Y/N came over to him and both looked to the small bed in which their son lied and slept peacefully.

Dean pulled Y/N to his side and she hugged him back. He placed a kiss on her hairline, enjoying the warmth she gave off. The last year had so many firsts for them and sometimes he couldn't believe how happy he was now. Dean looked at Y/N and knew that she was a big part of this and he would do anything to not lose her again.

"He has your eyes." The woman said lovingly.

"And he has your nose." Dean countered with a smile.

"Come on. We should let him sleep as long as he does so calmly and peacefully." Y/N said and turned away from the door again.

Dean did the same. "You're probably right." But his wife couldn't go far before he took her back into his arms. "Actually, I was thinking about something." Dean grinned.

"And what is that?" although Y/N already had an idea.

"I'm sure Connor would like to have a little sister." he wiggled his eyebrows and Y/N laughed. She pressed herself a little tighter against him and looked at him lovingly.

"I'm not sure if it will work that quickly, but we can practice anytime if you want." Now she wiggled her eyebrows and Dean laughed.

"That's sounds like a solid plan to me, sweetheart." Dean agreed and begann to kiss her with all his heart.

A/N: And now we're truly at the end here. I'm a little sad now, tbh. 🥹

It has been such a ride and I wanna thank all of you who have joined me on this. And I want to thank everyone who left me feedback or reblogged my story. I was so overwhelmed with the responses and I felt so blessed. I appreciate you all so much! 💜 And I hope we see us again in february to my new story. 😁

@chriszgirl92 @elenasalvatore1 @laurensfangirlingsideblog @moonxlightsworld @muhahaha303

@stoneyggirl2 @ladysparkles78  @allthosepeopleilovetofangirlover @ninii-winchester @itsdesiree86

@foxyjwls007 @jtink27 @tommysaxes @monkey-d-hoshizora98 @aylacavebear

@suckitands33 @pillowjj @hobby27 @mischiefnevermanaged89-blog @winchesterwild78

@nikimisery @acid-spiderr @deangirl96 @lyarr24 @k-slla

@iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @stanzie  @mochminnie @ettadear @globetrotter28

@leila22rogers @whimsyfinny @a-girl-who-loves-disney @goest-and-fuckest-thyself

@zepskies @star-girl-05 @tmb510 @louisianalady @deansimpalababy

@livsh20 @livya99 @whichwitchwanda @sydneyabcd @emotionsmgcbabe

@taylor-will-be-the-death-of-me @deans-spinster-witch @strepsils123 @7leb-kakaw  @psychicbouquetblaze-stuff

@thebiggerbear

[nottswitch]

ANNOUNCEMENT

with a (not so) heavy heart i come with the news that i won’t be finishing kinkmas. i have four fics left and honestly, i don’t see myself writing them without it feeling forced and half-assed. i realized that i feel exhausted, and the remaining fics are hanging over my head like the sword of damocles, slowing down my creativity. i want to focus on my new aus and ideas rn, which i really can’t do with kinkmas still being there. plus, i feel like i finished on a pretty good note, with a new year’s fic, and there’s no point in dragging it out.

all that considered, i will be posting at least two of these fics separately, with no attachment to kinkmas, so the fact that i’m finishing up the event doesn’t mean that any of them are up for grabs.

to conclude: i’m very excited for the upcoming year in terms of my blog and writing. i have a lot of aus planned, new series and just in general, i’m going to explore a lot of new things and ideas i can’t wait to share with you guys. i hope you will understand my decision about kinkmas. love y’all <3

[wwilloww]

sh. | chapter twenty four | pjm

PAIRING ot7 x reader RATING Explicit. 18+. GENRE smut. fluff. angst. nonidol au. wildnerness au. roommates au. friends to lovers. SUMMARY Six months of quarantine have kept you apart. Somehow the distance sparks something new in each of you: questions, unfinished conversations, threads once chased now left cold. So when your roommate invites you to come with him to a mysterious house in the mountains with your friends, how could you even think of saying no? WC 5.8k

WARNINGS AND TAGS semi-public sex. penetrative sex. aftercare. angst.

AN hey ;) missed you. thank you to @sugalaritae for helping me with this chapter. thank you to each of you for the continued support.

← || series m.list || →

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR: THE SHADES ARE DRAWN

When you think of joy, you think of the color purple.

For a long time, you didn’t like the color purple. You found it garish. Didn’t love the associations with royalty, that a color could belong to a class of people defined by something as fickle as wealth or birth. 

But like many things in your adulthood, the color purple eventually grew on you. You had to admit: the soft gentle violet of a sunset—the color that dances between other colors, here a moment, gone the next—it was thrilling to chase it through the sky as the light sank low on the horizon. And you also had to admit that baby-soft lilac color, doting on the first flowers that pressed up through the tough winter grounds in early springtime, reminded you that winter does end. Warmer days do come. And finally, when you realized purple felt like a memory visiting you again, sweet and warm, you simply couldn’t withhold your affection for the color any longer. 

Purple reminded you of the flickering feeling of life beneath Hoseok’s skin as his hand clamped down on yours above your head as you touched each other in the early hours of the morning all those days ago, a bead of sweat perched on the bridge of his nose as he thrust into you, the quiet sounds of sleep rising from the friends sprawled around you in the living room— 

You shake yourself back to reality. 

For someone who’s getting fucked pretty much everyday, you sure do daydream a lot about getting fucked. 

But joy—purple—lilac, whatever: that color has been flirting at the edges of your reality these past few days. After your conversation with your friends about the difficulty of the early days of quarantine, a weight feels lifted off your shoulders. It had felt like you were hiding some kind of secret—or even yourself—away from the people who loved you most. You hadn’t realized how guilty you felt about that until the truth had been revealed. And since telling them about your struggles with mental health, not a single member of the household had treated you any differently, like you were broken or wounded. Instead, you noticed them coming to sit with you and talk with you about what happened, how they can help. They asked you questions, they wanted to know what it was like. But that you don’t mind. 

On top of that, things with Hobi have been so easy. 

Things have been easy with everyone. 

Since your time spent with Jimin the night after the bonfire, you had felt a kind of kinship with him. Shared glances across the dinner table, even when Hoseok’s hand is wrapped around yours beneath the table. Jimin seemed to hover closer, gifting you with little touches, his hand on your lower back while you wash the dishes, plucking a hair off your lip before dinner with a small smile. Small moments of laughter, an inside joke about underwear, shared with a whisper in your ear when no one else can hear. 

But despite that proximity, you also can’t help but notice that despite your new casual ease with him, since the bonfire, he has seemingly pulled back from the others. At the dinner table, he’s quieter. When you all are cleaning or taking care of household chores, he’s much less directive than he usually is. He had even forgotten about his promise to make you come the day after your last romp. But when you remind him , a cheeky smile on your face when he comes in after a hike (and fail to mention that Hoseok had made you come several times in the wee hours of the morning), he grins and pulls you deeper into the house, away from the prying eyes of your six shared housemates. 

Jimin is kissing down your neck in the hallway after dinner one night—you make a mental note about how he loves to kiss you where anyone can stumble upon your intertwined forms—his hands slipping under your shirt, down your leggings. You gasp when his fingers tease at your folds. You can tell he’s going to take his sweet time with you. 

“Jesus, can we just fuck for once?” you gasp into his mouth as his index finger slides inside you. You don’t even bother to lower your voice. “I’m wet enough, I need you. No more games.” You give him your best doe-eyed plea.

He hesitates, deciding if he wants to drag things out for his own fun or give you what you want. “Is that what you want? No games, no waiting, just me?” 

“It is,” you say, trying to keep the sexual frustration from making you sound too whine-y. 

“Then that’s what you’ll have.”  

He doesn’t even bother to take you to his bedroom. There, in the hallway, where anyone might find you, it’s fast and hasty work, pulling your top off, shimmying your pants to the floor.  Jimin too, makes quick work of his button-down, while your gaze traces over his torso, the tattoo right above his ribs, and the little happy trail that leads exactly where you want to go. 

“See something you like?” Jimin asks, raising an eyebrow. 

“Always,” you say, capturing his lips for a kiss that, after the fact, feels wonderfully—wonderfully?—domestic. Slow and gentle and warm. Time slows. The air stills. Then, the pace shifts again and your mutual clothes are tossed hither and thither across the hardwood floors of the hallway and your greedy hands reach for one another once more. 

Undressed now, Jimin flips you so you face the wall, your hands pressed against the cool plaster, your back to him. He steps between your legs, using his foot to push them a little further apart so he can fit between them. His hand comes down to your lower back, pressing ever so slightly so that you arch into him, pressing your ass back just enough to meet the hard flesh of his cock. 

You gasp as it meets the slickness of your center, the burning warmth of him sending shivers down your spine. 

Does this ever get old? 

He doesn’t tease you much this time, just glides his cock through your folds to collect the moisture there, uses one hand to spread it across his dick, and begins to press in. 

“This is what you want, isn’t it?” he asks. “Me inside of you? Filling you?”

“Yes, Jimin, god yes.” 

He slides home, his cock spearing through you, the head of it tugging at your walls, which tighten around him. He grunts, and you drink up the sound. Jimin, to your previous surprise, wasn’t the most vocal in bed, but today something seems like it’s loosened inside of him, and sounds of pleasure begin to fall from his lips as he fucks you. 

He’s thick inside of you, and your fingernails dig into the wall as you search for something to hang onto as he rams into you at a quick and desperate pace.  

“I knew you’d like it,” he says. “Fucking where anyone can see you, anyone can walk in and find you writhing on my cock, calling out my name.” 

“Yes, yes,” you pant. 

It’s true. 

There’s something about the risk of it all. The thrill of not knowing. The high of being fucked by one man only to have another walk by and want you just as much. 

“Op!” 

The note sounds from the end of the hallway, and you tilt your head just enough to see Jin standing at the entrance, a pan of steaming muffins gripped between two large oven mitts. He seems to be on his way to do a round through the house, offering baked goods like a trolly cart lady.

What timing.

His gaze roves over your joined bodies, drifting downward to where Jimin’s cock is plunging into you. He lets his stare linger. You warm beneath the blatant attention, his obvious interest in what’s happening before him. You can see him hardening through his jeans. 

Then, he clears his throat, stands a little straighter. 

“I’m going to assume you two don’t want muffins.” His voice is low, smooth, and sweet like pastries. There’s a kind of even-tempered curiosity, backed by his usual confidence. 

Jimin’s pace doesn’t cease, doesn’t falter, despite the intrusion. It’s like his movements are saying, you’re all his, and no one else’s. And not even the temptation of a fresh-out-of-the-oven blueberry muffin or a very broad shouldered friend of yours can take that away from him. 

“Maybe later,” Jimin grunts. 

“Later, yeah,” you gasp as Jimin grinds into you from behind.

Your cheeks are warming from the mix of Jimin’s ministrations and Jin’s near-casual but definitive interest in your coupling. Jin watches like he’s taking you in, and behind his calculated gaze, you can see his mind spinning, figuring. Perhaps he’s imagining himself joining your pairing, but more likely than not, you think he’s thinking up a new way to tease you later—with a laugh at the end of the sentence or with his fingers inside you.

You’re trying to hold back a whine and simultaneously hold onto any last bit of dignity you might have remaining. Though, when you think of it, every day that goes by you believe you might have less and less. But who is chasing dignity these days anyways? When the world has stopped spinning entirely?

Jin catches the small sound of pleasure that finally eeks out of you and he smirks, his eyes flicking from where yours and Jimin’s body’s join up to your eyes. He says nothing. He doesn’t have to. But you understand. He doesn’t want you to look away. There’s something even more indulgent in this gaze, his eyes meeting yours. Though he’s no longer looking at your sex, you somehow feel even more naked: your pleasure, bared to him, and his pleasure, taken in yours. 

Though the small gesture has dropped your mouth open as new sounds of pleasure emerge, though you’re now gasping in surprise as Jimin pushes deeper and Jin holds your gaze—you feel more present than ever. Alive—like your lungs are full, like you’re breathing fresh air. 

As Jin reached down to adjust his belt—it’s just a flicker of movement as he adjusts his now hard cock—you understand the promise in Jin’s eyes. You. Me. Soon. 

“I’d ask to join you all,” Jin says, again, even-toned. You clench around Jimin, an action that doesn’t go unnoticed, as he chuckles from behind you. “But I have more pressing matters to attend to: Taehyung is hangry.” 

Jimin nods behind you, his hips still hammering into you. 

“‘Course.” 

“Well. It was lovely chatting. I’ll leave you to it. Maybe I’ll catch up with you again later.” He sends you a directed wink. 

Your heart skips a beat at the thought. Since the orgy, you still hadn’t spent any one on one time with Jin. Or Taehyung, for that matter. You wonder if there’s meaning in the distance between you three—or if you’ve merely been distracted. After all, how are you supposed to reasonably split your time between seven very horny, very lovely men? 

“Uh—uh—y—eah.” Your voice is jolted from you in time with Jimin’s thrusts. “Please.”

As he turns, he refuses to take his eyes from yours, a pleased smile lighting on his lips. For a moment the shared gaze reminds you of something far off, yet familiar: something from the world that has come to pass you by. Perhaps it reminds you of the feeling of meeting a stranger on the street or in a crowded bar. The spark of recognition, of seeing someone new light up with something old: desire. He wants you. And now, more than ever, you want him. He knows this, and it’s what makes him smile.  Jin disappears again, and you’re left with nothing but Jimin’s hard cock pounding into you. He leans closer, pressing his pouty lips against your ear to whisper, just to you: 

“You were so good, baby, you didn’t even ask me to stop when he came by,” Jimin grunts. “You just took it like a good little kitten. Did that feel good? Having him watch me fuck you?” 

You don’t say anything, just whine as he continues to fuck you, harder now, his balls slapping against your clit. With each hit you feel a spike of pleasure flood through you. It’s enough to make you, somehow, even more needy than you already are, but not enough to satisfy you fully. 

“I watched the way his eyes went down to where I’m fucking you. I know he was imagining himself inside you. How does that feel? Knowing he wants what I have?”

You moan.

“Answer me,” he says, one of his hands winding around your throat. He pulls you up so your back is pressed to his front, and he’s squatted slightly between your legs, thrusting up into you. It’s an animalistic, needy positioning, and you feel lightheaded with it all. 

There’s a kind of possessiveness in Jimin’s language that feels brand new. He’s hitting that soft spot inside you with each thrust and it feels so good it almost hurts. As the ache and pleasure melt together, you can’t help the burning building in your belly, flashing with white light with each of his thrusts. He slips his hand around your front, fingers toying with your clit. 

“Fuck—It feels so good, Jimin.” 

“You’re in a house full of men who want you, who would fuck you like I’m fucking you in the middle of the hallway, in the kitchen, in the pool—wherever they could get you if they got the chance. How does that make you feel?” 

It makes you feel a thousand things. But all you manage to speak is: 

“Wanted.” 

“Good. Because you are.” 

There’s something about those words that hit an entirely different soft spot—one in your chest. Your heart aches, but your attention is quickly pulled away. You clench around him and he moans in your ear. His pace quickens, grows harder. There’s a desperation to him you haven’t seen before. Like he needs this. Like he needs you. 

The thought is enough to push you over the edge and, hands falling forward to brace your fall against the wall, you suck in quick gasps as your orgasm rockets through you. Knees wobbling, you clench tightly around Jimin, a movement which prompts a growl and a moan from him as his pace stutters. 

“You want my come? I know you do, I know you do—“ 

He presses himself against you, filling you from the inside. He holds himself there, his grip tightening around you. You’re coming down from the height of your orgasm, your body warm and ringing in sensation as he fills you up, hips pumping ever so slightly. 

He murmurs against your neck, slumping forward. 

You’re not sure how long you stay like that, his front pressing to your back, sweat mingling, breaths synching—the only sound in the long hallway. You hum as your skin cools from hot to warm against his, as his hands trace over your body. Finally, he pulls out. You can feel his come shift inside of you. 

“I like when you’re full of me,” he pants, slouching against the wall next to you. “Keep me inside.” He pats your pussy, where his come is beginning to slip out and down your thigh. 

“That’s what all of you say,” you giggle, but in reality: you like it too. It makes you feel marked. Wanted. 

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” Jimin says, pulling his pants on, and, throwing his shirt at you to cover up (as if now, of all times, is the proper time to dress yourself). He leads you through the house back to his room after scooping up your belongings. You hastily button the shirt—well, two of the buttons—and follow after him. Without looking behind at you, he reaches behind him, his palm opening, fingers spread wide: an invitation for you to hold his hand. You take it. 

You pass Yoongi in his studio. He glances up at you from his work, his hand half lifting to say hello before he realizes the state of you and Jimin: sweat-studded, warm, and marked all over by sex. His hand freezes. His eyes lock on Jimin. You’re not sure if you’re imagining it, but you think you see Jimin falter for half a second, before leading you on. No words are exchanged, just that long, long glance. 

When you arrive in Jimin’s room, all the blinds are shuttered and the bed is unmade. It’s a little unlike Jimin, you think. But while he struts to the ensuite bathroom, you tread toward the windows, tugging on the blinds so that the windows pop open to reveal the mountains washed in nightfall. As you watch the moonlight shift over the rolling terrain, something in your chest shifts, opens. This view never ceases to make you feel at peace, you think, as your breathing slows and your body relaxes. There’s not a place on this earth that you’ve visited that makes you feel the way looking at the mountains does.  

Jimin announces his return with a slight cough and holds out a washcloth to you.

“Want me to do it?” he asks.  

“S’ okay,” you reply and take the washcloth from him, reaching between your legs and wiping yourself down. “I thought you wanted me to ‘keep you inside.’”  

“Sometimes I say things just because they’re hot,” Jimin says, as he makes his way to the bed and flops down. “And sometimes I say things because it’s important to be hygienic.”

You watch him for a moment. Your gaze catching on his movement, off somehow: his weary eyes, his tired limbs. 

Since you initially arrived at the house, you had been the receiver of the most delightful aftercare you’d ever been privy to, even with your more experienced sexual partners of previous years. There was something about a friend who knew you, really knew you, that added a personal and knowing touch to satisfy the physical and emotional aches that followed sex. 

But as you look at Jimin, you realize: when had he ever received that kind of aftercare? You were so wrapped up in your own experience, that you had forgotten to check in with him. He opens his arms, inviting you into bed with him, inviting you into his embrace.

“Hold on,” You say, holding up a hand. “I have to take care of something. Just give me ten minutes and I’ll be back—In the meantime, close your eyes a little?” 

Jimin nods. A little smile flickers at the corner of his lips. But he lets his head fall back onto the pillow and his eyes flutter shut. You can’t help but stare for a moment too long before you’re turning on your heel and skidding through the hallways, past Yoongi’s studio—empty now—past the spot where just minutes ago, you’d been fucked against the wall. You don’t pause. 

You’re on a mission. 

You stop by the kitchen first, surprising a closely pressed Namjoon and Yoongi, who break apart when they notice you entering. 

“Oh, sorry—” Namjoon hastily apologizes. “I mean, I’m not sorry—I mean, welcome.” 

“Welcome?” Yoongi raises a questioning eye. 

“Yes. Welcome to the kitchen.” Namjoon answers, opening his arms wide in an awkward reception.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” you say, grinning. “Proceed.” 

“We weren’t doing anything,” Namjoon says, perhaps a little too quickly. You look between the two. You notice how Yoongi’s hand is immediately next to Namjoon’s, his fingers flickering, as if yearning for touch. And Namjoon’s foot is halfway between both of Yoongi’s. Perhaps they weren’t doing anything, but it’s clear that that statement wouldn’t be true for long.

 But you just smile and gather your intended materials and set off, knowing they’re both watching you and your half-covered ass as you leave the kitchen.

Next, you head to the master bedroom, the room where Hobi (and sometimes you) have been sleeping. You traipse into the bathroom, rifle through the cabinets. 

“What are you doing?” a voice calls from behind you. 

“Hobi.” You smile, turn, and step towards him, pressing a kiss to his surprised features. 

“Are you staying here tonight?” There’s a bright light of hope dancing in Hoseok’s eyes. 

“Ah, I dunno,” you say truthfully. “Probably not. I’m just getting some things for Jimin.” 

“Oh. I see.” You can’t help but notice the little note of disappointment in his voice. “Tomorrow? Can I have you tomorrow?” 

You grimace at his choice of words. 

“Sorry—can I steal you away tomorrow?” 

You nod, pecking his cheek and gathering your materials into your arms. 

“Tomorrow.” 

You leave Hoseok in the bathroom with your second set of materials and hurry back to Jimin’s room. 

“Okay, okay! I’m back!” You call from outside the door. “But close your eyes! Don’t look!” 

You can hear the peals of Jimin’s light, sleepy laughter echoing out from the bedroom. 

“What on earth are you doing?” 

“It’s a surprise! Are your eyes closed?” 

“Yes!” 

With your foot, you push open the door and creep inside, slipping quickly into the bathroom where you deposit all of your goodies. You quickly set it up, but Jimin is impatient, calling every other minute from the bedroom, checking if you’re ready yet. You shoo him off enough times, until finally you’re ready. You give your project one final look-over, and with a satisfied nod, open the door. 

You slide into the bedroom and pull him from the bed, pressing your hands over his eyes as you shuffle him to the bathroom door. 

“Okay… now, open!” 

You release Jimin from your grasp and let him take in the scene of the bathroom. For a moment, he’s entirely silent. Then he says: 

“What is all this?” 

“It’s for you.”

Before him waits a steaming bubble bath and a little tray filled with snacks and a hot mug of tea. Soothing, spa-like music croons from a small speaker. You’ve laid a freshly laundered bathrobe near the tub too, but it’s just then that you notice he has his own, hanging on the door behind you.

“I mean I hope so,” he chuckles. “But really, what is it?” 

“Aftercare,” you say. “You’ve been so good about checking in and taking care of us, and I wondered—I didn’t know if anyone was doing that for you. I wanted to do that for you.” 

Jimin grins and turns back towards you. He wraps you up in a hug, before pulling back enough to kiss you. 

“Thank you.” 

There’s a softness in his eyes you’re not used to seeing. 

When you undress Jimin this time around, there’s nothing sexual in the act. And that kind of scares you. He doesn’t take his eyes off of you as you undo his pants and slip them off, and is silent as you help him into the bath, though he groans indulgently at the feeling of the steaming water meeting his skin. He sinks in, up to his shoulders in the deep tub filled with bubbles and bath perfumes. 

“This is perfect.” 

You settle behind him, on the outside of the tub. “Can I wash your hair?” 

“Really? You want to?” 

“Yeah.” 

“No one’s done that since I was a kid.” 

You smile. “Really? Then it’ll be my little gift to you.” 

“This is more than a little gift,” Jimin says, swishing his hand through the water to point to everything all around him that you’ve set up. And then more quietly, “It’s almost… romantic,” he muses. You stiffen at the words, and if he can sense your discomfort, he continues, “It’s just… nice. Kind. Good. Thank you.” He twists towards you, grabbing your dry hands in his wet ones. “Thank you. Really.”

You smile at him and twist his shoulders back so he’s facing forward once more. 

“Now. Let me take care of you.” 

You settle behind him and roll up your sleeves, grabbing the bottle of shampoo and squeezing some into your hand. You lather it up, enjoying the silky smooth glide of the liquid between your palms before massaging some into his hair. You’re careful, gentle, with your movements, fingertips circling on his scalp. His inky black hair parts like a dark sea between your fingers, and you soon get lost, mesmerized in the repetitive action. When he groans softly, the utterance pulls you back to the present, and you can’t help but think it’s one of the sexiest sounds he’s made. 

When you’re done lathering up his hair, you reach for a cup, dipping it in the water. 

“Tilt your head back,” you guide, and he does, exposing his neck and the round bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallows. You see the strain, so you reach with your hand behind his head, tangling fingers in hair, and hold him firm.  Carefully, you pour the water over his hair. A steam of suds run and sink into the field of pinkish bubbles. 

“Hmmmm,” he hums as you repeat the action, and you watch as his eyes flutter shut and his shoulders loosen, dropping. It’s been a long time since you’ve seen him this relaxed. It makes you smile, thinking that you’re the one doing all this. Maybe you do enjoy being in control more than you thought.

When you’re done with his hair, you stand and wipe your hands on a towel. 

“Well. I’ll leave you to it. Enjoy your bath—“

A hand wraps around your wrist. 

“Don’t go.” 

“What?” 

“Don’t go. I’d pull you in right about now if I wasn’t worried about you slipping and getting a concussion.”

You laugh. 

“Join me,” Jimin says. “There’s plenty of space for both of us. And I bet you need it as much as I do.” 

You eye the bathtub. He’s right in both regards. The bathtub is huge, still steaming, and your body is yearning for a nice long soak right about now. 

“But I want this to be about you,” you say. 

“It can be about me. And what I want right now is for you to join me.” 

“Ha, fine.” You nod, and begin to unbutton the shirt he’d given you. Carefully, you slip into the bath, settling at the other side of the tub, directly across from him. 

He presses his toes to yours. Smiles at you. 

“Thank you for this. Really.” His foot pushes against yours, almost playfully. 

You sit in silence for a long moment. His head lolls back against the wall of the tub, and you watch him. He’s so beautiful like this: resting, relaxing. When you reach out towards him to run a hand across his leg, inching higher, he grabs your hand and stops your movements. He intertwines your fingers together, and there’s a small bolt of panic when you realize this moment isn’t intended to be sexy. It’s just supposed to be the two of you. You ease your thoughts by reminding yourself that this is just your friend. Your friend, naked in a bubble bath with you, his hand caught in yours. So you shift your attention to him, instead.

There’s an ease around him that you haven’t seen in a couple of days. On one hand, you don’t want to spoil the moment, but at the same time, you can’t help but speak up. 

“You know, I can’t help but wonder,” you begin, swirling a hand through the bubbles. “When we were having that discussion the other night, around the fire. When I shared—That there was a time when I, um, didn’t want to be here anymore.” You’re not sure why the words are suddenly heavy, difficult to get out. But you continue. “And you were there, and you looked so incredibly sad, like what I was saying meant something more to you. More—like—” You brush your hand across your face. “Goddamnit, I don’t wanna assume—and I can’t get the words right. Like it meant what it meant to me.” None of your words are making sense. You try again. “That it meant something personal to you. But then you never said anything. During the conversation, you never said anything at all.” 

Jimin looks down. Blinks. He lets go of your hand. His mouth twitches like he’s going to say something, but then he presses his lips together. 

“I, um.” He trails off. 

“It’s okay,” you say hurriedly. “We really don’t have to talk about it. I’ve just been noticing you pulling away a little more since then. How quiet you’ve been. And the shades in your bedroom. They were drawn.”

“The shades?” Jimin’s brow presses in confusion. “What do the shades have to do with anything?” 

“When I walked into your room there was something off. The room was so dark. Maybe it’s silly. Maybe I’m just making assumptions though—” 

“What?”

You take a breath and steel yourself. Out with it. 

“It feels like you’re pulling away.” 

Then, you hold your breath as you wait for him to reply. There is a long moment where you fear everything will shatter. And then he laughs, but there’s an edge of tension, like a chord pulled taut, ringing through the usually twinkling sound.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought it up,” you say quickly.

“It’s okay. It’s okay. I should, I mean, I probably should talk about it. It’d probably be good for me. But I don’t want to just unload on you. I don’t just want to leave you with all… this.” He motions to himself with a circular motion. 

You reach forward, and grab his hand again. Give him a little squeeze.

“All this—“ You motion to him in the same manner. “Is exactly everything I want to deal with.”

“It’s too much,” he smiles sadly, splashing his hands in the water, not looking at you.

“You’re not too much, Jimin. Your feelings aren’t too much.”

He sighs. 

“Thank you. Sometimes it doesn’t feel that way—but, thank you.” You two share a long gaze before his shoulders slump and he leans forward, resting his head in his hands. The water stirs around him. “Where do I even begin?”

“I dunno. At the beginning?” 

He nods, and you watch as his gaze shifts and he seems to go somewhere far away. 

“I guess the beginning was alright. Of quarantine, I mean. I thought there was a sense of freedom to it all. Not having to go into the office. A disruption in the routine. All expectations and plans and requirements taken off the table. Which felt like freedom. It was like suddenly no one was looking at me any more, no one was expecting anything from me except to just live, day by day. But then there was this anxiety that set in.”

You nod and he looks to you for validation before continuing. “Like I felt like I needed those things to be a person. The expectations, the shoulds, the pressure to go where, when, with who. I think I needed them feel like a person, or to feel like I knew where I was going. All of a sudden, all of the places and people and ideas and expectations that had shown me where I needed—where I should go—were gone. I was wandering my apartment in circles, going crazy, missing everyone, feeling like I was missing out on everything, even when there was nothing going on. And I knew the whole time that what I was feeling wasn’t real—but I couldn’t shake it.” 

You nod sagely. 

“I understand that. That sounds really difficult.” 

He nods blankly, and you can tell that it’s about to pour out. 

“And it sounds so stupid, but I missed sex. I missed sex so much.” 

“That’s not stupid, Jimin.” 

“It felt like a part of me was taken away. Like a huge part of the way that I communicate— it just disappeared. And I was left with nothing. I thought you guys would laugh if while you all were baring your hearts to each other, I was just sat there like, ‘I missed fucking.’ That it would be offensive to compare it to what all of you were going through.” 

“Jimin, whatever you were going through, we want to hear. We wouldn’t have laughed.” 

“Maybe you should have though.” 

“C’mon. You can’t just sit here and say that being stripped of your entire social life, the way you connect to people, to the world, you can’t say that loss is worth laughing at.” 

Jimin is silent for a long moment. “I hadn’t thought of it that way.” 

“I mean, everything, everything disappeared. I feel like what you’re describing isn’t just about sexual gratification or getting your rocks off. It’s everything. We went from this world where, living in the city, every day is full of these little bumps with strangers, right? You go to the grocery store and flirt with the girl by the oranges. You go to the bar and you hear about someone’s breakup, and then you make out with them in the bathroom.” You get Jimin to crack a smile at that—remembering together. “We lost so much. The sex. The flirting, sure. But there was something else, too. The connecting with strangers. The connecting with people we loved.” 

“Yeah.” 

“Sex is important, but what you’re describing is connection. Direction. Your whole world changed. How can you say that that’s not a huge loss?” 

Jimin finally looks at you. He blinks. He stays silent. Then: “It was so lonely. I was so lonely.” 

“Of course you were.” 

“I think I didn’t know who I was without sex.”

“Don’t you think it goes a little deeper than that?” 

“I didn’t know who I was without all the relationships in my life.” 

You nod. You understand. What you say next almost surprises you. “I don’t think we’re meant to know that kind of thing. I don’t think we’re meant to be so distant from everyone.” 

He nods, then says, “Then why do you make yourself so distant?” 

Oh.

Fuck. 

“We’re talking about you, Jimin,” you say quickly. 

“We’ve talked about me. We can talk about you too.” 

“I don’t want to—“ 

When Jimin says your name, it rings right through you. It quiets you. It sends you somewhere soft and silent. You sink down in the water, letting it come up, just above your nose. You look at him from that level, that quiet piercing gaze going right through you. He just waits. And waits. When you can’t hold your breath any more, you push up, letting the water glide off you. 

“I don’t know, Jimin,” you say, finally. “But whatever it is, I don’t know what to do with it.” 

← || series m.list || →

©wwilloww Do not repost, translate, or use my stories without my permission.

THANK YOU FOR READING!

🔆 if you enjoyed this, please consider telling me what you think by leaving a comment, sending an ask, or reblogging! i love chatting with you all!

🔆 want to read more stories?

[thecreelhouse]

When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let's spread the self-love 💛

hi mari!! I’m so sorry I’m answering this so late 😭 it’s hard narrowing it down and changes tbh, but here’s some faves lol.

accident prone - (steve x fem OC!frankie) honestly, this has been my fave series I’ve written so far, exploring a HC about Steve’s trauma, as well as writing an unapologetic, disabled OC— After surviving the hell on earth that is Hawkins, Indiana, years of traumatic injuries and PTSD have left a permanent impact on Steve and his health. He’s sought out professional help time and time again, yet 5 years after leaving home, he’s still in constant pain, feeling isolated and misunderstood— until someone as sick as him comes along, renewing his hope on the future.

sudden desire - (steve x reader) You’re convinced sex is meaningless when every partner you’ve been with can never make you finish. Your best friend, Steve Harrington, is up to the challenge of changing that.

just a lover - (steve x reader) yet another best friends to lovers fic lmao. self indulgent, but also for any other babes who deal with vulvar pain/painful sex issues 🫂❤️‍🩹

part time soulmate, full time problem and the sequel, tramps like us - (gator tillman x f!reader) - this one was my first series after a hiatus for a few years, so the pacing is a bit wonky, and it bloomed from shameless smut to exploring gator’s character, trauma, and potential for growth. the sequel wasn’t planned either, and ik a lot of gator girlies weren’t thrilled with how i wrote him so far in this, but it’s been fun for me to write, so…. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

handle with care - (steve x reader) - meet cute/ugly AU inspired by the time i broke my tooth on someone’s forehead while stagediving LMAO

[cosmiischillin]

Cosmi’s Fan Series Asks are…OPEN!!

(Boundaries + Alternative version of the image are below the cut)

I’ve been wanting to get back to working on Asks again, especially since I wanted to do so for ENAF and Twilight Town but now Rayman and Welcome Hell has been introduced! So I decided to make this a full on post to explain all 4 Asks! I wanted to do this to showcase more lore and things about these universes

Welcome Hell: Send questions to your favorite puppets acting on Hell’s most wholesome show! You ask about character lore any of the such, (just don’t ask about anything relating to Hellaverse. I base the world on its own universe of Hell)

Twilight Town: Ruby’s Good N’ Gloom blog now has a full on podcast with her friends! Ask away to learn what it’s like on the bright side of the dark side

Rayman Heroes: Heroes got fans so QnAs aren’t too far off! These Heroes of the Glade of Dreams have aplenty to say about each other and their jobs (plus they sorta gotta pay rent)

ENAF: Wether it is the main series or the FNAF World variant, ask away for these characters! (Please refrain from asking about Mimic though Tales of the Pizzaplex and Ruin are currently noncanon to ENAF, please check my boundary list)

I hope you have a ball asking these different AUs questions! (I will make links for showing characters in each one I promise)

My Ask Rules!

1. I do have the right to refuse certain asks, whether it is for the reasons I might list below or if it’s already answered.

2. I’m gonna be doing art for my posts as much as I could. If your ask isn’t given art. It might just be because I was burnt out or didn’t have the energy to drawn. I apologize for this.

3. I won’t be drawing others OCs (except for events I plan in the future)

4. No NSFW asks. My content is Teens and Young Adults orientated and I personally am not comfortable answering that stuff.

5a. If there’s a QNA on ENAF, please refrain from asking about events that take place in Ruin, Tales of the Pizzaplex, and any other FNAF media that came out after base game Security Breach (ENAF’s canon only goes up to that game of the og’s canon)

5b. Please refrain from asking about Hazbin Hotel/Helluva Boss/Hellaverse when it comes to Welcome Hell. While it was inspired by it early on, I have since made my own original version of Hell.

6. Try to be as brief as possible (1-4) sentences with ask. Paragraphs usually overwhelm me (sorry!)

[dceasesd]

my top batman fics of 2024

ah, for you my friends........ i have a gift.

i saw all sorts of people doing this so i thought i'd jump on the train! i've read so many great fics that i'd love to share :D

these fics were either updated/posted in 2024 or were ones i read for the first time in 2024 and loved!! my "summaries" are gonna be shit but please check these fics out! they are listed in no particular order.

these are mostly jason&dick centric. and can you tell i like the time loop trope?

how to dive the conquest of thy sight by streetlight_skeletons

jason&dick, dick pov, dick whump + protective jason

cast on/cast off by hellsreluctantheir

jason&dick, dick pov, timeloop angst

Family Crisis by librarylexicon

stephanie&bruce&others, alternating pov, case fic, angst, questionable dad bruce (WIP)

A Calculated Risk by AlexaAffect

jason&dick, jason pov, angst (please read the tags)

door, opening by cowboysorceror

jason&dick, jason pov, angst+character study+case fic (WIP)

eye in the sky by TheResurrectionist

duke&bruce, duke pov, injustice au

The Penny Drops, The Penny Dreads by Batbirdies

jason&bruce, jason pov, jaybin era, angst (WIP)

AGAIN & AGAIN. by orpheusaki

dick pov, angst, time loop, dick kills the joker

wolf-king of rome by Whiskey

jason&dick, jason pov, character study, angst

through the valley of the shadow by Goldmonger

jason pov, jason whump, stream of consciousness

back to back by Geeves

dick&jason, jason pov, dick&jason whump

Ad Infinitum; Modified by familiarities (twistsandturns)

tim pov, jason whump, time loop, fun narrative structure

something in the static series by BoneRot19

jason&stephanie, jason&bruce, jason pov, alternate first meeting/au (~WIP)

memento mori by Anonymous

jason angst, ambiguous ending

dancing on glass shards by connorswhisk

dick pov, character study

Hope is the Thing with Feathers by TheSilencer

jason&dick, jason pov, dick whump, time travel

ON THE OUTSIDE ALWAYS LOOKING IN. series by orpheusaki

jason-focused, outsider pov, angst (~WIP)

please go check these out! i hope that at least one person gets value out of this list. also, if anyone wants to chat about any of these, i'd LOVE to. happy new year guys! :))

[bratbarzal]

I fell in love with your story with Nico I was wondering if you could recommend other fics?

I'm the single worst person at keeping track of fics I read (and I know that's massively hypocritical of me I'm working on being a better person okay) especially before I started my blog but I do have a fic rec tag!! I haven't been reading a lot lately because I struggle to read while writing but I'll list my staples below bc I need to spread the love!! not all of these are nico, and not all of them are series fics, but they're all near and dear to my heart!!

the blueprint long form oc fic is whatever life throws at you by @raysofcrosby - it's a matthew tkachuk fic and I read it in the lead up to the stanley cup last year and it's probably what inspired me to start writing/post something myself!! the character/world building is unmatched and I don't think I ever have or ever will read another fic like it!!!

and speaking of world building him and I by @mikkomacko feels like you're literally in a different universe when you're reading it there's so much detail and as someone who struggles to write AU style fics more than anything I think this fic is like the epitome of talent!!!

and the same goes for say yes to heaven, say yes to me (and part two) by @theemporium - the whole mob!verse is chef's kiss, but also the entire masterlist!!!!! the amount cece writes and the unlimited ideas she manages to spin into something amazing has me staring at my screen sometimes in pure shock it's mental!! and don't get me started on luke and cherry, the mortifying ordeal of being a 20-year old virgin is the best luke fic on this app I love it with all my heart and I need to catch up!!

and katie @nol-pat is one of my favourite people period on this app so it only makes sense that she is my favourite writer!!!! I think I read must love dogs and it's been a long time coming before I started this blog, and I remember feeling like I hadn't read any other fics that I was completely submersed in so quick before!! katie's dialogue and storylines and the way she implements all the best tropes is my fave thing in the world and I'd like to think we're similar in some ways when it comes to writing but that's delusion, she is a thousand times better than me lmao

I know places by @hischierhoney is one of the best song based fics I've ever read it's so so cute and sweet and such a perfect capture of the essence of that song!! I love it and lee is very lovely!!!! I literally had a nico fic in mind when I first read this question and had to go looking and it's her off limits fic!!!! and the sequel I know!!!!! I'm a bum because it's been my favourite this whole time and I've never told her!!!! but now I can!!!

wishes come true by @sweethischier is hands down the best nico series on this app!!! I also love abby!!! I distinctly remember saving this in my drafts forever ago to read again and again!!! and now I want to read it again!!!! and I will!!!!

that night in michigan by @hockey-fics and part two that week in vancouver for if you want your heart ripping out and putting back together again!!!!

and I'm definitely missing a load more, I feel like some people have deactivated and I will yearn for them forever!!!

[btskitty17]

The Yandere Doll Walks Free at Christmas 🪽 pt. 5 the hearth, his chest

(Jungkook X Reader Series)

basically, there's jungkook under her tree.

pt. 4 seeing purple ←

main masterlist

excerpt: she could not make a sound; the only thing that she was incisively aware of was Jungkook’s heat, cutting through every part of her being.

pt. 5: the hearth, his chest

"I understand that you filled out a Toybox application form, requesting a boyfriend?” She really had had been too much of a good girl. But the last thing that she had expected was to actually end on the top of the Nice list on Christmas Eve and get exactly what she had asked for…or not. As she grows increasingly fond of his pattering presence in the background, she begins to ponder whether a present from Santa Claus is supposed to possess such a darkly dominant disposition, which only begins to expose itself bit by bit.

pt.1 wishlist | pt. 2 get ya | pt. 3 cinnamon | pt. 4 seeing purple

main masterlist

genre: slight humour, dark fantasy au mini-series ୨୧

🪽 ongoing (10-ish parts of 1-2k words throughout January ✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡❆⛄)

warnings: jungkook x fem! reader (insert any name of your choice), yandere behaviour displayed by the male main character: possessive, controlling + clingy tendencies, eventual smut, seemingly chaste fantasy with a sinister twist +subtle reference to yoonmin

🎄~ ୨୧ 🎄~ ୨୧ 🎄~ ୨୧

___ had slammed the door shut on Jungkook’s anger-ruffled face after freeing herself from his near-imprisoning grip and immediately sought refuge in her bed, vowing to be as far away from him as she could.

A few hours into her sleep, it seemed as if the irate snowstorm was seething through ___’s own living room. Her limbs felt frozen in place; no number of the hefty blankets, and woollen sweaters could shield her body from the astoundingly glacial atmosphere of own her home, which had now transitioned into a frosty mountaintop. ___ could feel the back of her shoulders ache from shivering consistently throughout the past two hours and her chattering teeth could now perhaps awaken her neighbours; she even lacked the strength to brew a cup of coffee to warm herself up. ___ almost worried about Jungkook in the next room before remembering that he possessed his own in-built heating system.

___ snugly draped herself in a shawl and opened her bedroom door, only to be greeted by a merciless gust of wind flooding the corridor. ___ grimaced from the impact of the wintry hostility; she wondered if she had mistakenly left the windows unclosed. The light in Jungkook’s room was still on; it was way past midnight, ___ could only wonder what he was up to.

___ inspected the entirety of the house to seek the possible passages of the frigid air that seemed to haunt her; she could not find a single culprit; why was it then, so cold? ___ decided that to layer up was the only way to get through the night; she would deal with the intricacies of the heating system in the morning.

As ___ trudged her way back to her room to clamber up back into her bed, she heard the quick shuffling of Jungkook’s feet. Jungkook was leaning against the doorframe, resting his hand on his outstretched arm and the fringe of his hair was sticking wetly to his forehead, slick with sweat; was he working out in the middle of the night? In stark contrast to his usual gentlemanly guise, he was now outrightly shirtless, the peaks of his nipples hardened by the temperature with his greyish sweatpants swung low on his hips. ___ gulped after being ambushed by Jungkook’s near-naked visual.

“My my, your cheeks seem to be blazed from the bitter cold! How many of those sweaters and jackets are you wearing? You look like a sleepwalking snowman; man, people at Santa Isle would have a field day if they saw you right now,” Jungkook guffawed.

“I am so so cold. I don’t- don’t know what’s wrong with the devices,” ___ gasped out between her shivers, her eyes crinkled and her mouth settled into a perplexed, involuntary pout.

“Yeah, no, of course you are. It is supposed to be the coldest day of the season today. But, a heating device? Is that what you need? All this, right here, at your disposal,” Jungkook smirked, gesturing to his sculpture-like torso, littered with a few specimens of body-art, here and there.

“Are-are you out of your mind?”

“Then, if you wish to be frozen by dawn, go ahead. Although, I would suggest you do not knock it until you try it. You do not have to snuggle with me. Just place your palm on my chest and see, it would make a huge difference,” Jungkook drew a faux look of innocence of his face.

“Darn you and your superhuman powers. But, just a finger, not any more than that,” ___ muttered under breath, to which Jungkook comically bowed.

___ placed a cautious finger on Jungkook’s bare chest; she instantaneously sensed the tip of her finger gather an oozing mass of warmth: it almost felt as if there were a hundred little chambers of warmth beneath her fingertip, though it did not warm her body completely yet. Jungkook joyously noted the look of wonder spreading through ___’s irises. ___ grew even more famished for warmth by this little taste-test and then, pasted the whole of her right palm against Jungkook’s chest as he bit his bottom lip, hovering over ___ with his eyes monitoring every single one of her body’s reactions.

“This is no way to be comfortable. Want to be really cozy? I can show you,” Jungkook whispered into her right ear with an intimacy that they had not previously shared; ___ looked up at him, still a bit shaky, and nodded.

Jungkook swerved ___'s body out of the doorway and into his designated room before she could even register the happenings. He hoisted ___ in his unclothed arms and laid with her in his freshly-made bed in the exact same position: him cradling her whilst peering at her fondly. ___’s eyes were widened but she was not outwardly complaining for even her modern heating system was no match for Jungkook’s chest which was a cackling fireplace in itself; despite ___’s ethical and rational inner voice screaming at her, ___ could not bring herself to be torn apart from the furnace of warmth that was Jungkook on a snowy night.

___ could sense her heartbeat quicken its pace owing to the closeness of Jungkook and the shared intensity in the silence of the moment; she knew he was watching her and both her mind and throat seemed to have fogged up, she could not make a sound; the only thing that she was incisively aware of was Jungkook’s heat, cutting through every part of her being.

“You are not cold anymore? Are you?” Jungkook enquired in a quiet voice as if someone could overhear them and ___ shook her head delicately.

“All these sweaters, you do not require them? Take them off, I am afraid I might overheat you up,” he chuckled softly.

___ disentangled herself from Jungkook for only a moment but it felt exceedingly agonising for both of them to part from each other; she peeled the extra woollen garments from her arms and tossed them into a chair nearby, her hair now sticking in every direction, making Jungkook crack into a smile as he brushed it behind her ears with a a fond expression. He scooped her up in his embrace once again and rocked her gently, humming an unfamiliar yet soothing tune into her hair as she tucked her chin into his shoulder blades.

The braless, bed-ready breasts of ___ were now cuddled against Jungkook and his naked, solid chest; her wafting flowery scent was almost sending him into a wild frenzy but he had to make ___ comfortable first before he could even imagine tending to his bodily desires.

Jungkook’s body heat had securely enveloped ___, who, a few minutes ago, was quivering her way to hysteria; come to think of it, despite being annoying, Jungkook had his perks, ___ pondered as her hand reached the mop of his black hair at its own discretion and began gently stroking it. ___ was now caressing a man she barely knew and leaning into him as if he were her most familiar, longest-known lover.

The truth was, not only had he fiddled with the settings of the heater, Jungkook had also concealed a portable cooling machine, utilised by him during his trips away from Santa Isle in summertime, within the clutter of the decorative presents from ___’s Christmas paraphernalia and set it at its highest functioning capacity, aimed towards her bedroom; no wonder she felt like she herself was going to transform into an icicle.

“Koo,” ___ languidly mumbled, almost half-asleep because of the onslaught of comfort ushered in by Jungkook’s powerful arms.

“Koo? Is that my new name?” Jungkook smiled into her hair, his consciousness now misty with her strawberry-vanilla scent.

“We are really going to have to figure something out. How is all this going to work out? You, me, this boyfriend thing. I don’t know what I was thinking when I wrote the letter to Santa. Actually, I was not expecting a response,” ___ shook her head to keep herself awakened and upright, not wanting to be any more vulnerable than she already was, although their limbs were currently knotted together; she had only known him less than a day.

“I only know of you, ___” Jungkook sulked, pressing his lips into a wordless placidity.

“How so?”

“I am here to be your present. I have been driven to this side of the world only for you and to be with you. I want to know you better than anyone ever has. I have this desire to tend to your needs before you even know that you have them. I want to be the boyfriend that you wished for in your letter,” Jungkook sighed, dreamily looking at ___, the woman he had pined after for almost a year, luxuriating in his embrace now and the soft glow of the Christmas decorations was enlightening her face in a way that proved that she was surely the good-hearted, all-pure angel that he had suspected she was.

“Baby steps, Koo. We should get to know each other first,” ___ would never admit it to herself but, the icy barrier of insecurity and doubt that she had shrouded herself with, as a form of self-defence, was now beginning to thaw: maybe it was because of how safe and homely Jungkook was making her feel; surely, it must have been because of the innocence swirling in his doe eyes.

“I am more than willing…anything for your wishes to be fulfilled.”

“All that just so you can keep your title of being the best Santa Isle worker?” ___ teased.

“Just so I could be number one to you,” Jungkook carefully brushed her forehead with lips, awaiting any sort of resistance, but, to his much-welcomed surprise, ___ tilted her head in his direction in an obedient-kitten fashion.

“Um…I saw this curious little notification pop up on my phone a few hours ago…Since when do you have social media? Isn’t that just something that “our kind” does and yours just judges us whilst emitting copious amounts of heat,” ___ babbled, laughing into Jungkook’s shoulder, her voice sending vibrations into his entire being.

“Say what you will, but you can’t live without this heat. Also, yeah, I have a social media account now; I made it just to look you up and follow you. I want to see what you get up to, online,” Jungkook answered; he had created an account right after he observed ___ messaging Jin; he wanted to be in the know, that’s all.

“I accepted your request but you will be bored, I am sure. I am not all that interesting; I only post, like, four times a year and those too, are sometimes pictures of trees or cats or something,”

“I would always be interested in something that you have considered worthy of capturing and sharing,” Jungkook’s eyes glinted cheerfully.

“Tell me stories about where you are from,” ___ said, with a hint of sleepiness; Jungkook attentively noted the motion of her luscious-looking lips, seeming as they were dripping with dew, and oh, how he wanted a taste.

“I was born in Santa Isle…my family works there too; they belong to the gift-acquisition and packaging department while I am responsible for successful delivery. Us, residents of Santa Isle, are particularly skilled at combatting the cold, and bringing smiles. Very early on, from our childhoods, it is ingrained in our minds through our educational curriculums that we have to seek out opportunities to serve the people and be the messenger of all things good,” Jungkook articulated.

“So, are all the people there involved in Christmas-related endeavours?”

“Santa Isle professionals are actually active yearlong; we have observational reports to prepare for the annual Naughty and Nice lists, carry out projects associated with social justice, and contribute to programmes of poverty alleviation-basically bring happiness to people,” Jungkook’s tone was that of a quotidian humility.

“What would you have done to me, had I been on the Naughty list?”

“You don’t want to know,” Jungkook smirked suggestively.

Jungkook’s swelling bulge, pitched underneath his sweatpants was becoming uncomfortable to say the least; however, he could not cater to it, not when ___ was asleep, ever so soundly on his chest, her mouth musically letting out wisps of air, the neckline of her t-shirt splayed: providing him a sneak-peek of her alluring chest, a smidgen of her drool landing on his collarbones. Jungkook could not help but coo at her adorably gullible sleeping form, and for her, he could overlook any degree of discomfort, no matter how hard it was for him.

___'s existence was already enough to get him going; to him, she was a living-breathing wet dream.

___ awoke to the morning sunlight dancing in patterns on her eyelids; she sensed an unknown weight slinging around her shoulders. She opened her eyes to find Jungkook slithered around the entirety of her torso; she was encaged by his strong arms around her back and her waistline and it did not seem that he would let her go anytime soon. As ___ moved about, Jungkook’s features scrunched up in annoyance and his hold around her body tightened significantly; he huddled closer to her, nuzzling his nose in the nape of her neck.

“Jungkook, Jungkook…I have to get up,” ___ lightly patted him.

“What a delight to wake up next to you,” Jungkook’s eyes snapped open, taking in the early-morning unhindered beauty of ___ and then, he offered ___ a lazy smile, unwillingly untwining himself from ___ for now.

“I have been thinking…No matter how cold it is, I believe that we should have some boundaries and some ground rules. This is not okay,” ___ spoke thoughtfully as she left Jungkook’s bed, and his face seemed to drop.

🧡 thank you for reading.

DISCLAIMER 

This is a work of fanfiction with the BTS members as characters; I do not claim ownership to the aforementioned characters. This fanfiction has been written solely for entertainment.

© @btskitty17 on tumblr 2025

~ ୨୧ ♡ ·