#childhood friends trope with him is so delicious

[waynes-multiverse]

You have no idea how excited I was for this series and it did not disappoint in the slightest! It hit all the right spots, love!! I'm so thrilled to see where it goes from here 😍🫶

Details below 😉👇

First of all, it's one thing to wake up to yelling, but the freaking air horn?! Wow, our poor boy 😂😂

You shot him an odd look, but he ignored it, shifting slightly to make sure the blanket hid the… Predicament he was currently dealing with.

I feel like that would've been on her, though 😆 If I had a boy roommate and surprised him in the morning, I wouldn't be shocked to my core to encounter morning wood lmao

The angst and constant (adorably idiotic) overthinking of Dean's during their whole shopping trip was delicious! I devoured that shit, girl. And when the crotchless panties showed up – dead 💀

The worst part? You were always the person he talked to when he was confused about something. But now you were the one person he couldn’t talk to about this.

Ooof, and that is always the downfall 🙈 They're not gonna communicate properly throughout this whole fic, are they? Am I gonna be yelling at you a lot? Probably. But all out of love 😂😘

Benny chuckled, lining up his next shot. “I think the real question is, why the hell did you stay?”

Benny cracked me up with this line. I could so imagine him saying that with that little smirk of his 😆

I loved the guys' night out and how all of them, without a fail, made fun of Dean and knew from the start what he was talking about 😂😂

And that childhood meeting story about killed me with cuteness! Stawp 😭💕🍭

“Honey, I’m home!” Dean called out as soon as he stepped into the apartment. The words left him out of habit, that same old teasing lilt in his voice. It was an inside joke that had stuck over time—born the day you’d both moved in together after college, a decision fuelled by practicality more than anything else.

Uh-huh. I'm not believing a word he's telling me right now 😂 Gabe was right. Denial is a powerful drug lol

Gary from marketing.

Ugh, not Gary from marketing 🙄 (Honestly, who still names their child Gary these days? Not exactly a name I wanna scream in bed. No offense to any Garys reading this 😂)

You frowned up at him, your brows knitting together like a scolded child. “You’re no fun.”

I'm a sucker for a wasted reader/wasted Dean. (Happy) drunk people are the freaking best gift 😂🥂

I swear, if Dean doesn't communicate his feelings properly, I will throw a shoe at the screen of my laptop, hoping it will goddamn hit him 😅

But that kiss?! HOLY HELL 🔥🔥🔥 (Please ma'am, may I have some more of this hotness?)

And I love that Dean realized she was too drunk for this, but now I'm genuinely worried how the next morning will go? 👀 Are they going to be awkward about it, avoid one another, or actually talk? (Yeah, I know. The last one is a stretch lol). I'm aware of the fic title and love the friends with benefits trope, so I'm so stoked for all the angst to come and flourish in the next chapters! 😁👏

The Arrangement - Part One

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: Dean has a conflicting dream about you, his best friend, that has him questioning feelings he'd never allowed to see the light of day before. However, he might not be the only one…

Word Count: 7.7k

Warnings/Tags: Swearing, feelings, some spicy times, nothing too heavy...

AN: Happy Release day!!🎉 Honestly, i can’t thank you all enough for the excitement around this series since announcing it! I've fell in love writing this story 🥹 and I hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I have writing it ❤️

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Dean smiled lazily as he felt a warm palm slide up his chest, the body behind him pressing closer. Soft lips trailed kisses along his neck and shoulders, sending a shiver down his spine. He hummed in contentment and shifted onto his back, his tired eyes opening to the most beautiful smile he’d ever seen.

Her eyes sparkled with warmth and mischief, her lips curving into a playful smirk before she leaned down, peppering gentle kisses along his jaw. His eyes fluttered shut again as she sucked lightly at his pulse point, his breath coming quicker. A low groan rumbled from his throat as he gripped her waist, pulling her up into a heated kiss.

Her tongue caressed his, her touch sending fire through his veins. Her hand slid down his abdomen, fingertips grazing lower and lower beneath the sheets, his pulse pounding—

"WAKE UP, LOSER!"

Dean's eyes shot open, his body jolting as the blaring shriek of an airhorn filled his room. He yanked the covers tighter around himself, his heart racing from both the rude awakening and the remnants of his dream.

"What the hell, Y/N?" he growled, glaring at the culprit as he covered his ears. You grinned triumphantly and finally put the airhorn to rest.

Dean huffed, flopping back down on the bed and throwing an arm over his face, trying to will away the heat rising to his cheeks.

What the fuck? Was all he could think, his sleep-addled brain scrambling to make sense of why he’d just had a sex dream about you.

You, meanwhile, were way too chipper for his liking. 

"C’mon, Dean-o, up and at ’em." You patted his leg, and he flinched like you’d just burned him. You shot him an odd look, but he ignored it, shifting slightly to make sure the blanket hid the… Predicament he was currently dealing with.

"What’s with the drill sergeant wake-up? Can a guy not sleep in on a Saturday?" He grumbled, voice still rough from sleep, and other things.

You pouted. Actually pouted. And Dean had to force himself to look away from your lips—lips that had just been doing unspeakable things to him in his dream.

"You promised you'd go Christmas shopping with me.” You reminded him, completely unfazed by his mood.

Dean frowned. "That doesn’t sound like something I’d promise."

You hit him with your classic 'don’t bullshit me' look. And, yeah, okay, he remembered now. He'd offered last week, wanting to help you survive the chaos of last-minute shoppers—and use the trip to grab gifts for his own family.

"Fine, yeah. Just give me ten minutes to wake up, alright?" He relented, desperate for you to leave so he could deal with his little… Issue.

“Thanks, Buddy." Your voice was smug, like you knew he’d never actually say no to you. Because, let’s be honest, he never did.

Dean sighed as you closed the door behind you. He let his head fall back against the pillow, running a hand down his face.

What the hell?

Why was he dreaming about you like that? You were his best friend. You’d been inseparable since fourth grade. Sure, you were beautiful, but that had never been an issue before.

…Had it?

Dean groaned, pressing the heels of his hands against his eyes. Nope. Too early for a deep dive into that mess. He rationalised it away—one, you were attractive. Two, you were close. And, statistically speaking, didn’t most guy-girl friendships eventually veer into weird territory at some point?

Yeah. Totally normal. No big deal.

Except… Two hours later, standing in the middle of a lingerie store, Dean realised he was totally screwed.

Before that, he’d spent the last two hours hauling around a bunch of your shopping bags like a damn pack mule. Only one of them happened to be his, with his completed gift purchases for everyone he needed to buy for. Though to be fair to you, your arms were just as full. He was bewildered at your ability to buy so much for so little.

Your immediate family only consisted of three people—Bobby, Ellen, and Jo—but you had argued that you had your friends, his family, and him to buy for. The latter of which, he’d told you not to do.

However, it fell on deaf ears as always. Every Christmas and birthday, it was the same. But Dean couldn’t fault you for it—you always got people gifts that were meaningful to them, and you got so much joy from giving that he could never say anything other than thank you.

What he wasn’t thankful for was your complete inability to stay focused. Every shop you entered, you’d get distracted by little knickknacks, convincing yourself someone needed them, rather than the original item you came for. It made the day so much longer, but despite the fatigue in his arms and the chaos of holiday shoppers, he was enjoying himself.

Though, that was a given with you.

You were naturally a people pleaser, but knowing how much Dean hated shopping, you’d made it your mission to keep him entertained. You’d made him laugh—laugh to the point his belly ached and tears were shed. The day had surprisingly become enjoyable. But then you'd dragged him into this store, and his brain short-circuited.

The window displays alone had him spiralling, lace and silk-covered mannequins taunting him with thoughts he really didn’t need to have. About you. And then you, completely oblivious, pulled a matching red lace bra and thong off a rack, holding them up for inspection.

Dean swallowed hard.

He’d done your laundry before. You two split chores in the apartment, and he’d handled your underwear plenty of times; never thinking twice about it. So why the hell was he suddenly imagining you in them now?

Was this really because of the dream? It had to be.

And then, like you hadn’t already sent him into cardiac arrest, you giggled, holding up another pair. "Hey, check this out—crotchless panties."

Dean barely choked back a groan as you stuck your fingers through the open section like it was the funniest thing in the world. His brain, on the other hand, provided a detailed mental slideshow of all the things he could do to you in them.

Jesus Christ.

He needed air.

"I—uh—I gotta step outside. Promised Sammy I’d call about a gift for Mom," he lied, voice tight.

You barely glanced up. "Okay."

Dean bolted like his life depended on it, shoving through the doors and inhaling the crisp winter air. "What the fuck is wrong with you, man?" He muttered under his breath, dragging a hand down his face.

A passing woman gave him a scandalised look as she walked by with her kid. He shot her an apologetic smile before leaning back against the brick wall, blowing out a heavy breath.

He tried to clear his mind, but every time he pushed the R-rated thoughts away, softer images replaced them. The way you smiled. The way you laughed, head thrown back, eyes crinkling. That stupid fluttery feeling hit his stomach again.

Dean frowned.

Was he sick? Hallucinating?

The worst part? You were always the person he talked to when he was confused about something.

But now you were the one person he couldn’t talk to about this.

Another half hour crawled by before you finally emerged from the store, a small bag swinging from your wrist. Dean’s eyes locked onto it like it held the answers to the universe, his mind immediately spiralling.

What the hell did you buy?

He told himself he didn’t care. He really didn’t. But his brain clearly had other plans because now he was picturing you in every single thing you could’ve possibly picked out.

Lingerie? Pyjama's? Something sheer, lace- nope!

He swallowed hard and forced himself to focus on literally anything else, but it was a lost cause. By the time you both made it back to the apartment, he felt like his brain had been put through a damn blender.

You, however, were completely unbothered, tossing your bags onto the floor with a content sigh before flopping onto the couch. "Pizza should be here soon. You wanna pick the movie?"

Dean blinked, barely processing the words. Right. Normal best friend things. Hanging out. Eating pizza. Watching a movie. That’s what you two did. That’s what you’d always done.

Maybe that’s all today was—a momentary lapse. A weird, fleeting thing brought on by lack of sleep, the stress of shopping, and, most probably, the objectifying dream he’d had of you. It didn’t have to mean anything more than that.

Yeah. He could shake this off. No big deal.

Letting out a slow breath, he dropped onto the couch beside you, snagging the remote. "Fine. But if I pick, you’re not allowed to bitch about it."

You hummed, already scrolling through your phone. "I make no promises."

A small smirk tugged at Dean’s lips. This was normal. Easy. Just like always.

And for the first time since this morning, he let himself believe it.

The following Friday, Dean found himself at the Roadhouse with Benny, Cas, and Gabe. It was the kind of place that felt like a second home.

The Roadhouse wasn’t fancy—hell, half the decor was older than they were—but it had its own charm. The regulars, the outdated rodeo-style décor, the worn wooden bar top that had seen more spilled whiskey and thrown punches than anyone cared to count.

The walls were lined with old beer signs, neon lights buzzing softly under the hum of conversation. The jukebox in the corner cycled through rock classics, always a little too loud, but that was part of the place’s charm.

Dean and the guys had been coming here for years—long before they were even old enough to drink. You had, too. Being Ellen’s stepdaughter meant you practically grew up in this place, and while Ellen had a strict no-bullshit policy, she wasn’t blind to the fact that teenagers would be teenagers.

As long as you and the guys stayed under her watchful eye, she let you each have a beer or two when you were younger, making damn sure no one got carried away. And if anyone so much as thought about sneaking more? Well, Ellen had a way of shutting that down real quick. She was tough, sharp as a whip, and had a stare that could make a grown man fold—but she cared, more than she’d ever admit.

Jo helped out too, working the bar some nights in between her law enforcement studies. She’d been slinging beers and rolling her eyes at the group’s antics since she was old enough to work behind the counter, always quick with a sarcastic remark when any of them got out of line. 

You and Dean had spent countless nights here, watching as the Roadhouse shaped who you all became.

Benny leaned against the pool table, lining up his shot with an easy, practiced confidence. Dean had seen him do it a hundred times—his friend had a natural ease about him, a steadiness that made him damn good at their job. 

They spent most of their days working maintenance for RHP Properties, fixing busted pipes and dealing with tenants who thought every flickering light meant the world was ending. Benny made the long hours bearable.

Cas sat nearby, nursing a whiskey, his sharp blue eyes scanning the table like he was analysing some historical battle strategy. He always had that serious, thoughtful air about him. It made sense—he was a history teacher, working his way toward becoming a professor. His brain just worked differently.

And then there was Gabriel, though he liked to go by Gabe, Cas’ cousin. Though you’d never guess it just by looking at them. 

Where Cas was serious, methodical, and downright broody at times, Gabe was his exact opposite—carefree, unpredictable, and always ready with a joke. The contrast between them was almost comical, like night and day, order and chaos.

Currently half-draped over the bar like he owned the place, Gabe was laughing at something Rachel, the new bartender, had said. She was easy on the eyes—exactly the kind of woman Gabe set his sights on. And judging by the way she giggled and blushed under his usual blend of wit and charm, he’d hit his mark.

Gabe had always been that guy—the one who could talk his way into or out of anything, a natural-born trickster with a grin that could disarm just about anyone. No one was entirely sure what he did for a living, some mix of marketing gigs and side hustles that somehow kept him afloat. According to him, it was all about “the art of persuasion.”

Dean just called it bullshit.

The night had settled into an easy rhythm—drinks flowing, pool games stretching long enough to become more about talking shit than actual competition. Gabe, as always, had the floor, spinning some ridiculous story about a one-night stand gone wrong.

“I’m telling you; she had three snakes. Just slithering around the damn apartment like it was normal,” Gabe insisted, gesturing wildly with his beer. “One of ‘em was watching me, man. I swear it knew.”

Benny chuckled, lining up his next shot. “I think the real question is, why the hell did you stay?”

Gabe shrugged. “What can I say? I have a hard time walking away from an adventure.”

Cas, who had been nursing his whiskey with a bemused expression, finally spoke up. “It’s a wonder you haven’t been killed yet.”

“Give it time,” Benny muttered, sinking his shot.

The conversation shifted, everyone throwing in their own weird hookup stories—bad timing, embarrassing moments, things they wished they could forget. Dean had been mostly listening, chuckling at their dumb-assery, when the thought that had been nagging him for days finally slipped out.

“Is it, uh… normal to have a sex dream about a friend?”

Benny didn’t react at first, too focused on sinking his shot, but Gabe, ever the opportunist, caught onto it immediately. “If it’s about Y/N? Yeah, totally.”

Dean nearly choked on his beer. “What? No—it’s not—”

Gabe grinned, tilting his head like he was enjoying watching Dean squirm. “Not what? Not about her? Or not just a dream?”

Dean scowled, scrambling to recover. “Jesus, Gabe, I didn’t say it was about her. It was hypothetical.”

“Uh-huh.” Gabe leaned against the pool table, twirling the chalk in his fingers. “Sure, man. Hypothetical.”

Dean exhaled sharply, trying to shake off the weird, twisting feeling in his gut. “Just saying, dreams don’t mean anything, right? Just… brain static.”

Benny chuckled, finally looking up from the table. “Depends on the dream, brother.”

Dean glanced between them, suddenly feeling like he was the only one missing something. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Gabe smirked, eyes twinkling with mischief. “It means you’ve been making googly eyes at her since we were, what—fifteen?”

Dean’s stomach dropped. “The hell I have.”

Gabe ignored him, tapping his chin. “Honestly, I’m surprised this hasn’t happened sooner.”

Benny sighed, shaking his head as he sank another shot. “Sorry, brother. Gotta agree with the gremlin on this one.”

Cas, who had been silent up until now, finally spoke, his voice calm and matter of fact. “It’s always been very obvious.”

Dean stared at them, mouth opening and closing. “You guys are insane.”

Gabe shrugged, completely unfazed. “Denial’s a hell of a drug. You’ll catch up eventually.”

Dean gripped his pool cue a little tighter, his next shot suddenly feeling a lot more difficult than it should have.

Benny, ever the voice of reason, leaned on his cue. “Ain’t anything bad, Dean. You two have known each other since you were what? Nine. Been joint at the hip since. You know all her family, she knows yours. Hell, she’s practically—”

“If that were true, something would’ve happened by now,” Dean cut in, shaking his head.

Gabe snorted, swiping Dean’s beer before he could stop him. “Not if you’re in denial, my friend.”

Dean’s jaw clenched, frustration curling in his chest. Their words were ringing too damn true, and it was freaking him out. “You’re all outta your damn minds.”

Gabe just smirked. “Keep telling yourself that, Winchester.”

The conversation haunted him. All the way back to the apartment.

He’d walked the couple of blocks from the bar to your shared place, his friends’ words swirling around his mind, needling into places he didn’t want to acknowledge.

Dean knew he cared about you—he always had. But wasn’t that normal after knowing someone for so long? You were practically family.

His thoughts drifted back to the first time he met you. Fourth grade. The old, rusted swing set at the park near his house.

He’d been shoving loose gravel around with the toe of his sneaker when he heard a loud laugh—sharp and unbothered. Looking up, he saw a girl launch herself off the swing at its peak, landing in a heap on the ground with a thud.

He winced. That had to hurt.

But instead of crying, you rolled onto your back, a grin splitting your dirt-smudged face as you stared up at the sky. "Holy crap, that was awesome."

Dean frowned, more confused than anything. "You just busted your knee."

You sat up, inspecting the scrape with a shrug. "Eh, I’ve had worse."

Then you looked at him—really looked at him—and grinned. "Think you can jump higher?"

Dean, never one to back down from a challenge, snorted. "Duh."

And that was that. A competition was born.

For the next hour, you and Dean had taken turns swinging as high as possible before flinging yourselves off, measuring who could get the most distance. By the time the sun dipped low, both of you were covered in dirt and scrapes, laughing like idiots.

When his mom finally called him home for dinner, he’d hesitated before brushing off his hands and looking at you. "Same time tomorrow?"

You grinned, teeth flashing. "You’re on, Winchester."

And just like that, Dean had found his best friend.

Now, years later, that same friend was tangled up in his head in a way he couldn’t ignore.

And it scared the hell out of him.

“Honey, I’m home!” Dean called out as soon as he stepped into the apartment. The words left him out of habit, that same old teasing lilt in his voice. It was an inside joke that had stuck over time—born the day you’d both moved in together after college, a decision fuelled by practicality more than anything else. 

Splitting rent was cheaper, and as best friends, it had made perfect sense. Somehow, though, the whole thing had felt oddly domestic from the start, and Dean had cracked the joke that first night—throwing open the door with a smirk, announcing himself like some sitcom husband. You’d groaned, thrown a pillow at him, and it had just stuck. Something easy, something comfortable.

From somewhere deeper in the apartment, your voice called back, warm and casual. “Hey!” You greeted him as he shrugged off his worn leather jacket and toed off his boots with a sigh, rolling his neck to ease the tension there. 

“How were the guys?” You called out again.

"Yeah, they're all good," he answered absentmindedly, trying not to think about that last conversation he’d had with them as he headed straight for the fridge, already contemplating his options.

His hand gripped the cool metal of the handle as he swung it open, his face falling at the sad excuse for groceries staring back at him—half a six-pack, expired milk, some takeout containers he didn’t even remember ordering.

Right. Grocery shopping. Definitely overdue.

"Hey, you feel like ordering in tonight?" He called out over his shoulder. "Pizza? Chinese? Maybe both, live a little?"

But before he could get an answer, movement in the corner of his eye pulled his focus, and his breath caught in his throat.

You stepped out of your room, and just like that, Dean forgot how to breathe.

His hand slipped from the fridge handle as his entire focus tunnelled in on you. You weren’t just dressed up—you were knockout gorgeous. 

A sleek, black dress hugged your figure in a way that should’ve been illegal, the fabric clinging in all the right places before tapering off mid-thigh. Your legs—long, smooth, and so much more on display than he was prepared for—were accentuated by the sharp cut of your stilettos, heels so high they had no damn business being on your feet, yet somehow, you walked like you owned the world in them.

Dean swallowed hard.

His gaze flickered to the subtle details—the delicate chain resting just below the hollow of your throat, the way the dim lighting in the apartment caught the shimmer of your earrings, how your makeup was just enough to highlight what was already perfect. 

You smelled different too—a new perfume perhaps? Something subtle but undeniably you.

The air in the apartment felt thick, like it was pushing down on his chest.

You didn’t even notice his staring. Instead, you were focused on the couch, leaning over slightly as you grabbed your purse, your fingers quickly checking through its contents. "I can't," you said lightly, barely looking up. "Got a hot date, remember?"

Dean blinked, your words cutting through his haze like a blade.

“Date?"

His stomach twisted.

You straightened up, finally glancing at him with a smirk. "Yeah, with Gary from marketing?" You prompted, slinging your purse over your shoulder. "He asked me out last week—I told you about it?”

Gary from marketing.

Dean’s brows furrowed as the memory came rushing back—how you’d offhandedly mentioned it while he was distracted with something else, how he’d muttered some half-assed response at the time, maybe even made a joke—

"The guy with the tragic haircut?" he muttered, the words coming out before he could stop them.

You laughed. "That’s the one."

And just like that, it hit him.

He’d been so caught up in his own damn thoughts about you lately—trying to reason with himself, trying to make sense of the way things had shifted between you lately—that he hadn’t even thought the world would still be turning for you.

He’d been sitting in the passenger seat, clueless, while you’d been steering your own damn life without him.

And now?

Now, you were standing there, looking like that, all dressed up for some other guy—some idiot named Gary, who got to pick you up and take you out, who got to be the reason you put on that dress, who got to see that smile meant for him tonight.

Dean’s chest felt tight, a slow, bitter realisation creeping in.

This wasn’t like all the other times.

You’d gone on dates before. He knew that. He’d teased you about them, had even tossed out protective big-brother-ish warnings to guys who had no clue the words felt foreign in his mouth. But he’d never felt anything about it before.

Not like this.

Not like his chest was caving in.

Not like a bitter, ugly heat was curling around his ribs, settling deep into his bones.

Not like he wanted to throw his jacket back on and hunt down ‘Gary from marketing’ and make damn sure he knew he wasn’t good enough for you.

His hands curled into fists at his sides.

"Right." His voice was quieter than he meant it to be, rough around the edges as he forced the word past the lump in his throat.

He watched as you did one last check in the mirror by the door, smoothing your hands down your dress, adjusting your lipstick in a way that made his stomach tighten even more. You looked excited.

Dean clenched his jaw.

And just like that, the jealousy settled deep in his bones, hot and unyielding.

He didn’t want to picture it—you laughing at some stupid joke Gary made over dinner, Gary sliding his hand over yours, maybe leaning in close at the end of the night, lips hovering over yours.

But the thoughts came anyway.

And it wrecked him.

You shot him one last glance, oblivious to the storm raging inside of him. "Don’t wait up, Winchester."

And with that, you were gone.

Dean stood there for a long moment, staring at the closed door.

His chest felt tight. And then the bitter realisation hit him. 

His friends had been right.

Dean couldn’t sleep.

For the past two hours, he had been tossing and turning, alternating between staring at the ceiling and squeezing his eyes shut, willing sleep to come. It never did.

How the hell could he sleep when his mind was torturing him with images of you—with Gary?

His stomach churned uncomfortably at the thought of it, bile rising in his throat. His mind painted vivid, unwanted pictures: Gary’s hands on you, his lips on your skin, your soft laughter, the way you might be looking at him right now—the way you should be looking at Dean.

He clenched his jaw, shaking his head as if it would shake the thoughts loose. It didn’t.

With a frustrated exhale, Dean sat up, rubbing a hand down his face. This was pointless.

There was no way in hell he was going to get any rest like this, not with his heart pounding and his mind running laps. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood, stretching his sore muscles before making his way into the living room.

His feet carried him straight to the kitchen, to the cabinet under the sink where he kept a bottle of whiskey for special occasions.

This qualified.

He poured himself a shot and downed it in one go, barely wincing at the burn as it slid down his throat. The second one went down just as easily, a bitter warmth settling in his chest, but it didn’t quiet the storm in his head the way he hoped it would.

His eyes flicked toward the clock on the microwave.

1:37 AM.

You were still out.

Another shot. Another slow burn in his chest.

Dean knew he had no right to be this worked up about it. He wasn’t your boyfriend. He wasn’t anything to you except your best friend—your roommate. That was the problem.

He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling hard.

When the hell did everything get so complicated?

It wasn’t just the dream. Sure, it cracked something open in him, but if he was honest with himself, there had always been something simmering underneath. He could see it now—in the way his past relationships never worked out, how no one else ever seemed enough because in the back of his mind, he was always comparing them to you. The way he told you things he didn’t tell anyone, not even his own mother.

Seventeen years.

You had been in his life for seventeen years. That was longer than most marriages. 

Damn, he really was an idiot. How could he have been so blind to it, so ignorant to what was staring him right in the face the whole time? 

Then, he heard it.

The distinct jingle of keys outside the door, followed by a clumsy, muffled “shit" breaking him out of his reverie.

Dean sighed, setting his glass down before pushing off from the counter. He made his way to the door just as he heard another "fuck", then a quiet thud—like something hitting the floor.

Through the peephole, he spotted you crouched down, fumbling for your keys, struggling to fit them into the lock.

You were clearly drunk.

Dean shook his head with a smirk, unlocking the door from his side just as you managed to steady yourself, one hand braced against the door handle. The moment he pulled it open, you stumbled forward, nearly toppling over—until his arms caught you.

You crashed into his chest with a soft “Hmph.”

Dean's arms instinctively wrapped around you, holding you up as you melted against him, giggling into his shirt. The scent of alcohol clung to you, a mix of whiskey and whatever fruity drink you had been sipping on all night.

“Jesus." You huffed, pushing off him, though you wobbled as you tried to find your footing. Dean kept his hands out, ready to catch you again if needed.

"You good, sweetheart?" He asked, raising a brow as he took in your dazed smile and glassy eyes.

You grinned up at him, your expression pure blissed-out drunkenness. "I'm just perfect, Dean’o."

Dean smirked at the nickname, but before he could say anything, you reached up and grasped his jaw between your thumb and fingers, squishing his cheeks slightly.

“Okay, alright—enough of that.” He groaned, peeling your hand away. You didn’t seem to realise your own strength at the moment, and if you squeezed any harder, you were gonna leave a dent in his damn face.

You blinked up at him, wide-eyed, before your attention drifted over his shoulder. Then your expression dropped into something heartbreakingly close to a pout.

“Awww,” you whined. “You’re drinking without me?”

You sounded genuinely upset, your lower lip pushing out in an exaggerated fashion. Before Dean could respond, you made a clumsy grab for the bottle on the counter.

But Dean was quicker.

Before your fingers could wrap around the neck of the whiskey bottle, his hand closed over yours, pulling it away with ease. “Yeah, no. You’ve had enough,” he said firmly, setting the bottle behind him and out of reach.

You frowned up at him, your brows knitting together like a scolded child. “You’re no fun.”

Dean smirked, amused at how downright grumpy you looked, like a kid being denied dessert. He leaned against the counter, arms crossed. “You need some water, sweetheart. Not more booze.”

You huffed dramatically, crossing your arms over your chest. “I don’t want water, I want whiskey.”

“Tough,” Dean said, already turning to grab a glass from the cabinet. “You’re getting water.”

Your pout deepened as he filled the glass from the tap, sliding it toward you. You eyed it like it personally offended you before reluctantly picking it up and taking a sip—your way of conceding to his demand, albeit with an exaggerated sigh.

Dean chuckled, shaking his head. You were something else.

Once you were distracted with your water, he leaned against the counter again, crossing his arms over his chest. He could still feel the tension coiling in his gut, the jealousy he’d been drowning in all night, and he couldn’t hold it back any longer.

“So,” he started, keeping his tone casual, but his fingers clenched against his biceps. “How was it?”

You blinked up at him, confused. “How was what?”

Dean gave you a look. “Your date.”

At that, you scoffed, setting your glass down with a little more force than necessary. “Oh, that.” You waved a hand dismissively. “It was awful.”

Dean raised an eyebrow, surprised by how quickly you admitted it. He’d expected you to defend the guy, maybe try to convince yourself it had been a good time. But no—just flat-out awful.

“Yeah?” He prompted, keeping his voice even, but he could already feel his chest loosening just a little.

You leaned against the counter, your drunken state making you extra expressive as you talked with your hands. “First of all, the guy is so uptight. Like, I swear, he’s never laughed in his life. I tried joking around, and he just blinked at me like I was speaking another language.”

Dean snorted, already picturing it.

“And then,” you continued, eyes wide with disbelief, “all he did was talk about himself. Nonstop. Like, dude, I asked him one question���one—about his job, and suddenly I was stuck in a TED Talk about marketing strategies. Like I don’t work for the same company.” You threw your arms out in a ‘are you kidding me’ gesture.

Dean chuckled, shaking his head. “Sounds like a real winner.”

“Oh, it gets worse,” you said, holding up a finger. “So, we order food, right? And I get a cheeseburger, because, you know, I wanted a damn cheeseburger.”

Dean nodded approvingly. “Good choice.”

“Right?” You gestured wildly, as if proving your point. “But Gary—freaking Gary—looks at me and goes, ‘Are you sure you wanna eat that? You should really watch your figure.’”

Dean froze. His smirk disappeared.

For a moment, he just stared at you, like he couldn’t believe the words had actually come out of your mouth.

Then his expression darkened, jaw tightening. “Tell me you’re kidding.”

You rolled your eyes. “I wish.”

Dean’s grip on his bicep tightened, his teeth grinding together. That prick. He had known from the start that Gary was a tool, but this? This was another level.

“So,” you continued, a mischievous glint in your eye, “I did what any rational, level-headed woman would do in that situation.”

Dean arched a brow. “And that was?”

You grinned, leaning in like you were about to tell him a secret. “I threw my drink in his face and left.”

Dean stared at you for a beat, then—He laughed.

A deep, genuine laugh that rumbled in his chest as pride swelled in him. “No shit?”

“No shit.” You grinned, clearly pleased with yourself. “Right in his smug, stupid, judgy face.”

Dean shook his head, chuckling. That’s my girl, he thought, though he would never say it out loud.

“But instead of coming straight home,” you continued, twirling your glass of water between your fingers, “I didn’t wanna deal with your I told you so—”

Dean smirked. “I would’ve said it.”

You shot him a look. “—so, I went to the Roadhouse instead. Had a few drinks, bitched about my failed date to Jo and Ellen. Ellen cut me off and called me a cab.” Dean huffed. That sounded about right.

For a moment, he just watched you, taking in the way you had perked up again, the lingering frustration in your eyes slowly melting into something softer.

You were here.

Not out with Gary. Not waking up next to some guy who didn’t deserve you. Not letting some self-important idiot tell you who you should be.

You were home. With him.

And as much as he wanted to tell you that he had been losing his damn mind all night, picturing you with someone else—he didn’t.

Instead, he leaned against the counter, arms still crossed, and smirked.

"Well," Dean said, tilting his head with a smirk. "At least you got a good story out of it."

"Yeah, I guess." You hummed, swirling the water in your glass. The initial amusement faded as your shoulders dropped slightly. Dean caught the shift immediately, his brows pulling together.

"C’mon, you can’t really be cut up about a guy with an Edward Scissor-hands haircut and zero game." He teased, hoping to pull you out of whatever downward spiral you were heading into.

It worked—your laughter bubbled out, a full, belly-deep laugh that made the tension in his chest ease. But then you sighed, the sound quieter this time, more pensive. "It’s not him I’m cut up about."

Dean watched you carefully as you traced the rim of your glass with your finger. "I just feel like I can never meet a good guy."

Something inside him twisted.

What about me?

The thought came unbidden, sharp and intrusive, and he shoved it down before it could take root. Instead, he nudged you with his elbow.

"That’s not true." His voice was lighter now, teasing again. "What about Mikey? The guy with the lisp?"

His grin widened as he mimicked a lisp, knowing damn well you’d dated the guy for barely two months in your sophomore year before his clinginess drove you up the wall. The look of horror that crossed your face had him biting back a laugh.

"Oh my God, Dean!" You gawked at him before landing a solid punch to his arm. "That is so mean!"

"Ow," he complained through his laughter, rubbing the spot you hit. "I’m serious, though! He was a real sweetheart.” He exaggerated the lisp again, barely dodging your next swing.

"I swear to God—" You huffed, turning to stomp off, but before you could escape, he caught your arm gently.

"Okay, okay, I’m done. Scouts honour." He held up three fingers in a mock solemn gesture.

You gave him a look—like you absolutely did not believe him—but still, with a huff, you reclaimed your spot opposite him and took another sip of water.

Then, almost absentmindedly, you sighed. "I mean, it has been a long time."

Dean’s brow furrowed. "A long time since what?"

You hesitated for a brief second before shrugging your shoulders, brushing it off like it wasn’t a big deal. "Since I’ve had sex."

Dean choked on his own damn saliva.

You frowned in concern, but he quickly waved you off, reaching for his whiskey to cover up the way his throat had suddenly gone dry.

You leaned back against the counter, lost in thought, completely oblivious to the war you’d just started in his head.

"I just—I don’t even need romance, you know?" You shrugged. "At this point, I’d settle for a little fun. I even bought new lingerie for tonight, just in case, and now"— you gestured vaguely to yourself, "totally wasted."

Dean swallowed—hard.

His mind was already in dangerous territory, but now it plummeted straight into the gutter.

You’d bought lingerie? For tonight?

His gaze instinctively flicked down for half a second before he caught himself, before he could let himself really think about what you were implying. Because if you had planned for tonight—if you were wearing it right now—

God help him.

The image hit him like a freight train. You, laid out in something lacey and delicate, something sheer enough to tease but not reveal, maybe even those crotchless panties you’d pointed out the other day in that damn store—his stomach twisted, his fingers curling around his glass with a little too much force.

And the worst part? Some other guy was supposed to see you like that tonight.

That thought sent something hot and possessive burning through his veins.

Dean exhaled sharply, gripping the back of his neck as he forced his gaze anywhere but at you.

"Gary didn’t deserve to see you like that." The words left his mouth before he could stop them, his voice lower than before.

You scoffed. "Yeah, well, no one else is seeing it either, so it really doesn’t matter."

It matters to me.

Dean forced himself to take another sip of whiskey, as if that would drown out the thoughts swimming in his head.

With a stretch and a yawn, you set your empty glass down and pushed off the counter. "Alright, I’m gonna head to bed. Thanks for making me drink water, Mom." You teased, because Dean was always more like a mother hen than a strict father.

Dean smirked, watching as you stepped closer. He expected you to give him a casual pat on the arm or maybe ruffle his hair like you sometimes did when you were feeling particularly annoying.

Instead, you leaned up on your toes and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

Or, at least, that’s where it was meant to land.

At the last second, whether it was the whiskey in your system or just bad aim, your lips caught the corner of his mouth.

You gasped softly, your breath fanning over his lips, and then you giggled. "Shit—sorry."

Dean didn’t move. Couldn’t.

Because you were still right there, inches away, your body just barely brushing his, your eyes flicking down to his lips.

Something in the air shifted.

The easy playfulness between you dissolved into something else—something warm and electric, something that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

Your smile faded, lips parting slightly as you lingered, hesitating just a second longer than necessary.

Then, before he could say a damn thing, before he could even think—

You leaned in again.

And this time, you kissed him.

It was soft at first, hesitant, your lips pressing against his in a way that felt like a question. Like you were giving him the chance to pull away, to stop this before it could turn into something neither of you could take back.

Dean’s entire body locked up. His mind screamed at him to push you away, to remind you that you’d been drinking, that this was just a moment of drunken impulse, that tomorrow you might regret this.

But then you pressed in closer, deepening the kiss, your fingers skimming up his arm, and his resolve shattered.

A low, quiet sound rumbled in his throat as he gave in. Completely.

His hands found your waist, gripping tight, pulling you against him as he kissed you back. And not just kissed you—devoured you. All the tension from the past few days, all the frustration, the longing, the confusion—it poured out of him like a damn breaking.

Your lips were warm, soft, intoxicating in a way no drink could ever compare to. He let himself get lost in it, let himself feel it—how perfect you felt against him, how natural this was, like it had been inevitable all along.

You sighed against his mouth, your fingers sliding up into his hair, and Dean groaned, tilting his head to deepen the kiss even further.

He didn’t know when his hands had moved, but now one was tangled in your hair, the other splayed against the small of your back, pressing you flush against him. And fuck, you felt good. Too good.

This was dangerous.

And when you finally pulled away, lips kiss-swollen and breaths unsteady, Dean couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. His heart pounded like a war drum; each beat a sharp, insistent reminder of the storm raging inside him.

He should say something. Do something. But every word he might’ve spoken tangled in his throat, choked by the weight of what had just happened.

��Woah,” you whispered, your voice barely more than breath. Your eyes flickered between his and his mouth, never quite settling, like you were just as caught in the moment as he was. Your cheeks were flushed, heat radiating from your skin, and the ghost of your breath still lingered against his lips, dizzying and sweet.

Dean didn’t move. Didn’t dare move. The air between you crackled, fragile and electric, holding him captive in a moment he wasn’t ready to break.

He was waiting for you. Like always.

Your breath ghosted against his lips, and that was all it took.

You kissed him again, this time with more heat, more purpose, fingers tangling into the front of his shirt as you pulled him in. Dean let out a rough sound—somewhere between a groan and a sigh—before his hands found your waist, gripping tight as he backed you up against the counter. The edge dug into your lower back, but you barely noticed, too caught up in the way he was pressing into you, solid and warm and overwhelming in the best way.

His hands slid down, grasping the backs of your thighs, and before you could fully process it, he lifted you effortlessly onto the countertop.

A surprised gasp left your lips, but Dean was already there, swallowing the sound as he kissed you again, deeper, slower, his fingers digging into your hips. You pulled him in, locking your legs around his waist, desperate to feel more of him, and his hands wandered—exploring the soft, bare skin of your thighs, gliding higher, pushing the hem of your dress up as he went.

He trailed kisses down your jaw, moving to your neck, and when his lips found that one spot—the spot—you let out a soft moan, your head tipping back instinctively.

Only to smack it straight into the cabinet behind you.

The entire moment shattered.

You winced, immediately bringing a hand to the back of your head. Dean jerked back, eyes wide with concern.

“Shit—are you okay?” He cupped your jaw, scanning your face for any sign of real pain.

For a second, you just blinked at him—then, out of nowhere, you started giggling.

Dean frowned, still searching your eyes, but when you kept laughing, it broke him. He snorted, shaking his head, then let out a deep, full-bodied chuckle, forehead dropping against your shoulder.

“Jesus, sweetheart.” He pulled back, still grinning, rubbing a hand down his face. “That’s gotta be a sign, right?”

You sighed dramatically. “That the universe hates me?”

Dean smirked, his hands settling on your hips. “That you’re not sober enough for this.” His answer was loaded, a heavy realisation for himself that you were in no state of mind to be making any rational decisions right now, and that he should've known better than to take advantage of that. 

You pouted slightly, but you both knew he was right. Still, there was something soft in his expression as he helped you down, steadying you with warm hands on your waist. The moment your feet hit the ground, you swayed a little, still a bit disoriented.

Dean caught you instantly. “Okay, yeah. You need to lie down, sweetheart.”

You groaned but didn’t fight him as he led you to your room, making sure you didn’t trip over your own feet. Once you were settled, he disappeared briefly before returning with a glass of water and a bottle of Tylenol, setting them on your nightstand.

“You’re a saint,” you mumbled, already sinking into the mattress.

Dean huffed a laugh. “Not quite. Just don’t want you becoming a pain in my ass in the morning when your head’s pounding.” He said as he helped pull off your shoes and settled you under the covers.

You cracked one eye open, looking at him with something unreadable, something soft. “Could never hate you, Dean.” You mumbled half asleep. 

He looked at you, lingering for a second too long. Then stood, with a small exhale.

“Call me if you need anything.” He told you as he walked to the door. You hummed your acknowledgment, and with that, he left, shutting the door quietly behind him.

Dean barely made it to his own room before he collapsed onto the bed, dragging both hands down his face.

What the fuck just happened?

The feel of you, the taste of your lips—it was burned into him now, like some kind of cruel brand.

It was just a kiss. Just a few incredible, amazing kisses. But now he knew for sure, no one would ever compare now.

And that thought terrified him.

Because tomorrow, you might not even remember. And if you did, would you be embarrassed? Regret it? Or worse, hate him?

Dean stared up at the ceiling, jaw tight, mind racing.

Yeah. He was so fucked.

AN: There we have it folks, the first chapter! It was a long one 😅 I know, but I'd love to hear your thoughts/feedback etc ❤️

If you would like to be tagged in my future works please respond to this >form< so I can add you to the character's you'd like 😊

Dean Winchester/series Tag List:

@bettystonewell , @nancymcl , @happyfxckinghorrors , @ambiguous-avery @jollyhunter @tbgfvfdcb @crooked-haven @chevroletdean @paganvamp @stoneyggirl2 @deans-baby-momma @spnaquakindgdom @ladykitana90 @lyarr24 , @impala67rollingthroughtown @jackles010378 @riteofpassage77 @spnaquakindgdom

Next Time...

Your breath hitched, but you forced yourself to stay still. No sudden movements, no giving anything away. But then your gaze betrayed you—just for a second, barely a flicker—dipping down to his mouth. Shit. Because now you could feel it again. The way he kissed you, rough but deliberate, like he had wanted it. The taste of whiskey, the heat of his hands, the way his fingers had curled into your hips like he was holding on for dear life. Dean cleared his throat. Stepped back. "I’m gonna head to the store," he said, too casual. It took a second for the words to register. "Oh. Yeah, okay." He hesitated—like he might ask you to come with him—but then he smirked instead, lips twitching. "Would’ve invited you, but, uh… You kinda look like the walking dead. Don’t want you cramping my style.” Your head shot up, glare locked and loaded. "Ass." Dean just grinned. "Try not to die while I’m gone." Then he was gone, the door clicking shut behind him. The silence that followed was deafening. Your fingers tightened around the coffee mug as you exhaled, long and slow, staring at the door like it might offer some kind of answer. Yeah. You were so screwed.

[merakiui]

there was a time during this past winter holiday when i returned to my hometown,,,, i ran into the mother of an old childhood friend of mine and she was so sweet. she told me, "oh, you've grown so much! you're so pretty! so beautiful!" and it shocked me because i hadn't seen her since i was a child, yet she was just as i recalled. we got to chatting briefly and she told me her son worked at xx location and was doing well for himself (in studies). i was happy to hear good news. :D

i thought it was a welcome surprise to talk after such a long time, but then she told me she still kept my photo pinned to her fridge and that she thinks it's such a darling picture. i had forgotten about it because it was so long ago, but then i thought: wouldn't azul's mother do a similar thing? keeping photos of azul's friend and doting on them when they meet again and she sees how much they have grown since...

the idea of mama ashengrotto who keeps all of the photos she has of you from the times you were friends with azul!!!! some in her photo album and perhaps even some around her home. >w< doting on you when you eat at the restaurant and she sees you again after so much time. mama ashengrotto sending azul out to be your waiter and he stops short when he sees you!!!!!!! a reunion of childhood friends after time apart... orz

[bighitfics]

recent jungkook fanfics that you should read for your own sanity.

(a recommendation for all the girlies who miss him like crazy!)

one rule by @/jasminefanfics on youtube

— dark romance, mean and morally ambiguous jungkook, hostage au, enemies to lovers, smut, love triangle (but it’s just a deranged schizophrenic being the ‘bone in a kebab’ for the gorgeous couple)

— this is ART. this is true unleashed YEARNING. dark ROMANCE done right, literally the perfect read for winter! this is my absolute fav read of this year 🫦

bonded by @borathae

— werewolves au, forced marriage au, childhood besties to lovers, angst, romance, smut.

— will this queen ever stop producing art after art? she’s not capable of doing that, god this was such a good read, I’m still not over this, THIS IS MY SHEYLA FR! (iyykyk) they’re everything to me gawd 🥺

mon révé by @sweetcarrotsandroses97

— archdeacon jungkook, forbidden love, age gap, romani character reader, dark romance.

— I’ve never read something so beautifully, perfectly executed, every scene she wrote is plastered into my brain, the amount of times i think about this fic is not normal, I’m desperately awaiting the new chapters ��✋🏼

the love prognosis by @awrkive

— friends to lovers (the og), medical au, unrequited love, roommates trope.

— nobody gets them like I do fr! my precious ship! 🥺😻🤲🏼 i loved how down bad he was for her from the beginning, we love a man who worships the ground his woman walks on LIKE AHHHH the author executed the one sided pining from jungkook so well! THE ANGST IS DELICIOUS IN THIS.

christmas & chill series by @girlygguk & @lovieku

— special xmas edition, jungkook and reader.

— the way I’m about to eat this up. u guys aren’t ready for the obnoxious amount of times I’m gonna be crying ab this whole series on my blog, oh lord have mercy on me, this is so brilliant oh how i wanna kiss their hands for this, SUCH DIVAS BOTH OF THEM 🫦

infrunami by @kooktrash

— friends to lovers, mutual pinning, smut, angst.

— boom shakalaka yes gawd! after I completed reading this fic, i took a moment to myself, clapped and took a lap around my bedroom, then I also did a 7 min standing ovation, this deserves more hype ngl.

burning hour by @jungqkook

— established relationship, smut, exhibitionism.

— the amount of times i’ve re read this is embarrassing but it is that LEVEL of good, oh god when is it my turn to experience something like this?

catch twenty-two by @miraclemaven on wattpad

— forbidden romance, age gap, smut, older reader & younger jungkook, angst.

— im so hooked into this story, even though i haven’t started reading properly, this is a promising one, with really good writing.

chained up by @jikookie17

— obsessed addicted jungkook (my jam), smut, angst, fluff.

— reading this made me feel like im watching a melodramatic story of two idiots who literally can’t live without each other, its a cute lighthearted read, 100% recommend!

THE END OF TODAY’S LIST.

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀

⠀⠀ hope the girlies like it ⋆. 𐙚 ˚

[rubiehart]

thinking about how childhood!best friend trope for jj is just perfect for him

obviously he has this deep rooted belief from his dad that he’s unlovable and he’ll never be worth anything more than any other maybank before him, so whenever a girl would inevitably fall for his charming personality he might just per-sue it for one night, ending in pleasure for both parties but then pushing her away when he’d receive a text asking to meet up somewhere for a casual date after ushering her out of the chateau at early hours in the morning, making up excuses or just straight up ghosting the poor girl because he truly believes nobody could ever love him so he’d rather just not suffer the heartbreak of losing someone and just not even try.

this is how he ends up with his reputation of being a ‘heartbreaker’, girls not wanting to get involved with someone like him at risk of being heartbroken by his reckless behaviour, the only person that would truly understand him is his childhood best friend, having seen everything he’s been through his whole life.

always being the first to comfort him after an unpleasant altercation with his dad, always the first he goes to for advice about girls;, swinging head to toe in the hammock as the sun sets over the horizon sharing a j, legs tangled together, both of them focusing on ignoring the life long tension between you, but it was never awkward, nothing could ever be awkward with each others, you knew everything about one another so there really was nothing to hide.

he couldn’t help but admire how beautiful you were, despite knowing you pretty much his whole life, you’d really grown into your looks and he’d argue you were the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen, but he’d never actually admit it, he wasn’t about to risk such an important friendship for something that wouldn’t be fail proof, love just wasn’t his thing and he wasn’t planning on changing his opinion any time soon, so he casts his gaze away from your lips, tuning back into whatever you were rambling about.

on particularly hot summer days in the banks, all the pogues gathered together like normal on the hms pogue, you sat on the bow, legs slung over jj’s lap, ray-bans he got from who knows where perched on his head, pushing back his blonde mop in a way that made his freckled nose stand out on the beaming sun, occasionally stealing sips of his beer, bringing the glass bottle to your lips and sucking, an innocent act but it meant much more to jj, especially with your tits pressed together deliciously by the triangles of your new red bikini, the thong so small that if he looked long enough he could make out the outline of your chubby cunt, the thought making his dick twitch in his swim trunks.

but it didn’t mean anything, right? that’s what he told himself that night when he had his right hand gripping his cock desperately, other hand gripping the sheets as he tried to conceal his groans, the mental image of your lips wrapped around the bottle and the way your tits pressed together perfectly in your bikini spurring his orgasm on. after he came he lay in bed staring at the ceiling, thoughts of you consuming his mind. but it didn’t mean anything, none of this meant he was in love or even liked you in that way at all, you were his best friend and no matter what he was keeping it that way.

he told himself this continually, anytime he felt his heart pang when your touch would linger on him for a little longer than the other guys. it’s because you’re best friends. anytime it was him you’d go to for guy problems, spilling your sex stories to him when you had even a drop of alcohol in your system. it’s because you’re best friends. she just trusts you. he told himself this when his first instinct after any fight was to run to you and break down in your arms and let you clean his wounds because he felt safe with you, knowing you wouldn’t judge him for the way he felt, the only person in the world who understood him. it’s because you’re best friends, no other reason.

he told himself this until the answer to his feelings was staring him in the face, literally. your naked frame splayed out on the same bed he’d busted to the thought of you on multiple occasions. he realised it then, he loved you, but he had loved you long before that, long before the lingering touches, long before you grew into your beauty, long before the jealousy of other guys getting to touch what was now finally his, he’d always loved you, before he even really knew what love was.

[reverieblondie]

Surprise Guest

Pairing: Steve Rogers x fem!reader

Warnings: Some dry humping, language, and self indulgent to the max.

Summary: Your brother Bucky invites a guest to spend Christmas with your family... you should have known it was Steve and that old feelings would come back up...

A/N: Hello, This is my first time writing for Steve and I would like to thank @buck-star for showing me their wonderful Fluffy Winter Event! Now if you are used to my BG3 content, this might be a bit different. But I love Steve so please don't judge! The heart wants what the heart wants. If you are new to my writing hi! hope you enjoy and if you have any ideas for Steve (or Chris Evans characters) just ask!

Tropes: Brothers Best Friend, Baking together, Dancing.

Word count: 6,469.

"Bucky's bringing a mystery guest? What, is it some new girlfriend?" 

You tease, watching as your mother picks up your brother's old childhood room, fussing over the bedding and ensuring everything is still just as he left it. The only changes made are the sublet Christmas decorations to make the room appear more festive. She also kept your room in the same state when you left for college; it was like a time capsule every time you two came home for the holidays. 

"Well, from my understanding, it's supposed to be some kind of surprise for us?" She says as she brushes the nonexistent dust from the curtains.

Scrunching your face and piercing your lips, you try to think about who Bucky could be bringing. It's no surprise Bucky is bringing a guest; he always seemed to bring home a stray or two when he came around for the holidays. Sometimes, it was girlfriends to meet Mom or friends from college, like Sam, who had spent last Thanksgiving with your family. But it's supposed to be a surprise… so it would have to be a girlfriend, right? 

You end up just shrugging your shoulders. As long as Bucky didn't bring anyone that would make the holiday awkward, you really didn't care who was coming around. 

Hours later, you're all still waiting for Bucky and the mystery guest to show up. Dad was asleep in his recliner as you and Mom wrapped presents while sharing memories from past Christmases. Fond memories flooded as you thought of the play fighting you and Bucky would always get into and the delicious sweets you would make with Mom. But the best part was just getting to see your family and making more memories with each other.  

During your trip down memory lane, you didn't hear the door slowly opening, and you definitely didn't hear your brother sneaking up behind you. You did, however, feel when he suddenly squeezed you in a tight bear hug, making you scream. 

Embarrassed at being spooked, you turn around and see that it's just Bucky laughing at your reaction. The panic you felt turns into elation as you hug your brother, "You asshole, you scared the crap out of me!"  

Bucky laughs before ruffling your hair, "Wow, language Goober, we have a guest." 

Ah, yes, the guest! You let go of Bucky and finally look towards the door, expecting to see an excited girlfriend, but when you look, your eyes feel like they're going to pop out of their sockets. Filling the doorway with a massive form was the surprise guest…tall, blonde, cute... Steve Rogers? 

Blue eyes watch you intently as he stands holding what you assume to be his and Bucky's bags. You're still not even convinced it's him until you fully take in all the features of his face, full lips, nice nose, and sweet smile that shows off his cute dimples and perfect teeth. Holy shit, that is Steve.

Mom rushes up with a squeal when she sees Bucky. The loud squealing finally jerks your father awake from his snoring as he looks at what his wife could be screaming at. He seems to relax when he sees she's just fussing over Bucky like always. Usually, you would be messing with Bucky at this moment, teasing him about being late and being a mama's boy, but your focus has gone to the elephant or, well, the big bulky guy shaking your father's hand. 

It's been years since you last saw Steve. Unconsciously, you touch your fingers to your lips as what feels like a storm floods your gut. You didn't mean to be staring at Steve, but you feel as if you're in shock. Of course, as you're staring, his eyes leave your fathers to return to you. He smiles at you, and it almost looks like he's about to approach before an excited, pitched scream from your mother has him startled and shooting a wide-eyed look at her.

Her excitement leaves your ears ringing as she goes to Steve, giving him a hug and promptly rubberbanding him for not coming to visit sooner. Steve just fumbles out some excuses as his eyes go from her to you and back to her. Looking back at Bucky, you inch yourself closer to him before swatting his shoulder. 

"Ow! What?" He gripes. 

"You didn't think to tell us it was Steve coming over?" 

Bucky just gives you a smirk, "It was a surprise; you're surprised, right?" 

“yeah…real surprised…” you mumble under your breath.

Both of you watch as your mom continues to gush over Steve, how it's been so long, how he's so tall and different looking, what he has been up to. All questions you wanted to ask yourself. Seeing Steve again throws you for the biggest loop, and frankly, it makes old feelings you thought died freshman year swell up. Why the hell is he here? After all this time, his face looks like some kind of sexy lab experiment gone all too right. 

"Steve, we are just so happy to see you. It's been forever. I should have guessed it would have been you! Right, honey, we should have guessed!" Your mom throws her eyes towards you to see you with confused glare. "Sweetie? Aren't you going to say hi? It's Steve. Isn't that incredible!"

Some might think it's unbelievable… 

Plastering an awkward smile to your face, you give a slight wave, "Hi Steve." 

"Hey, Scout, it's nice to see you again; it's been a while." A smile is stretched on his full lips as he calls you his old nickname, you haven't heard in forever. You almost forgot how he always called you Girl Scout for running around with him and Bucky playing army and then baking cookies afterward. You hated that nickname before, but now that you think about it, the name fits. 

There is a silence as your family watches the lukewarm reunion. Finally, your mom is moving over to you with a wide grin. "I don't think you're going to have to compare heights with him anymore." -Why is she bringing that up… 

You may have had an obnoxious habit of every time Bucky would bring Steve over, you would stand next to him to compare heights. At first, it was just your little secret. You would be behind his back to make sure you weren't getting too tall too fast, but then it became a game. Steve was always a good sport about it, and you always hoped you wouldn't become taller than him. But now, as you look at his 6'2 stature, it's clear that fear wouldn't happen. 

"I'll stand still so we can double-check," Steve chimes in, "It is kind of a tradition, Scout. What do you say?" Your mom looks expectantly as Bucky just gives Steve a quick pat on the back before sneaking off to the kitchen. You walk over to Steve, keeping your eyes steady on his, finding it hard not to roam your eyes down over his broad build. Okay, maybe you did seek a glance down his tight shirt, screaming across his chest, which leads to what you're sure is an impeccable abdomen and narrow waist. God, even his thighs underneath his jeans just look perfect to sit on. -Shit!

Burying down some horny thoughts, you stand in front of Steve, who now towers over you. From this close, you see that he's still every bit as cute (maybe even more handsome…), And he smells of that same musk you have come to recall so well, just this time there is just a hint of spruce. Steve has a smirk on his lips as he looks down at you, "Looks like you never got taller than me." he whispers as you judge your height with your hand; he's a whole head taller than you, maybe more. 

Your cheeks flare with a blush that you're sure is reaching your ears. You look at his face, your eyes immediately going to his smiling lips, and those memories of that night in that lonely hallway come rushing back. Why is it equally wonderful to see him and make your stomach twist into a sicky storm? 

"You're so tall now…" is all you can seem to answer, making Steve chuckle even more and you wish the ground would swallow you up ‘You're so tall now’ yeah no shit!

Finally, you're able to slip out an excuse completely modified at how you're turning into such a flustered schoolgirl! Steve stutters some kind of goodnight after you as you make your way up the stairs; turning back, the last thing you see is a concerned-looking Steve watching you. 

You're quick to rush past all the Christmas decorations and tuck yourself away into your room, leaning your back against the door and doing what you found yourself not doing when you were so close to Steve: Breathe. 

Steve Rogers, honestly, of course it's Steve. You should have considered it sooner since he's been your brother's best friend for years! He's so different now. He was as thin as a pin the last time you saw him. Now he's a total beefcake, and those fluttering feelings of a crush you thought were tamped down years ago are bubbling forward. 

Steve was always a good friend, not only to your brother but to you and your family. Now that you think about it, he was always just a good person? He always defined your brother no matter what and would always help anyone in need. He was bullied and teased when you knew him, but that never stopped him from voicing his opinion and standing up for what was right. Sure, it often ended up with Steve with a busted lip and Bucky pummeling the bully, but you couldn't help but admire his courage and willingness to help people and his kindness.

A sigh slips from your chest… Steve's kindness… he really was kind, sometimes confusing, but ultimately kind…

During the winter dance, you still remember all the beautiful snowflakes in the air and the way the silver tinsel shined under the sparkling lights. It was a tradition that the school put on a Dance before winter break. As a jaded Senior, Bucky wasn't as impressed, but you, as a freshman, were beyond excited. You had saved for new heels, Mom helped you pick the perfect dress, and you even managed to somehow get a date! There was no way this night was going to be ruined! 

The night did not go as planned. 

Your new heels you got on sale? Snapped. The new dress you got? Ruined when someone ran into you with a full glass of punch. And your date? Your oh-so-wonderful date? He left to dance with some flirty junior…

Now, here you are, sitting on the floor outside of the dance, trying not to cry in the dark hallway. You listen to the music, just waiting until you finally hear the last song end. Then you can walk home with Bucky and Steve and forget about this embarrassing night. As if it were fate, a nearby door swings open, and who do you see? Steve Rogers.

Steve looks at you, and his jaw tenses; he immediately turns to go back into the dance to find and try to beat up your ex-date. Before he can, however, you're standing up and quickly grabbing Steve by the sleeve. Steve, being Steve, of course, pauses per your request, but you can tell he didn't want to. 

Steve sits on the floor as you talk about your series of unfortunate events.

"So, how did you figure out I was out here?" 

"When I saw your date dancing with Suzy, it kind of clued me in..." There was a short pause before Steve looked at you confused.

"Why did you even say yes to that idiot?"

Of course, that made you laugh before you shrugged, "I don't know. I think that I was just excited to be asked…" 

Steve nods in understanding, "If that's the case, then I should have asked you." 

You feel butterflies when he says it, and when you turn to look at him, he's looking forward with a noticeable blush. Dammit, he's cute.

As you sit there with Steve, the announcement of the final dance is made, and as you gather your courage to ask him to dance, Steve beats you to the question, "Dance with me?" he asked so quietly, almost like a whisper…

You smile, "I thought you didn't dance?"

"Let's just say I'm willing to dance with you."

"But I don't have shoes."

Steve just looks over at you with a warm smile before he stands, reaching his hand down towards you. "Then I guess you won't be taller than me." You bite your bottom lip as you take his hand, letting you get up. You look into his beautiful blue eyes, "I'm only an inch shorter than you and still growing." 

Steve carefully places your hand on his shoulder before placing his hand on your waist, "Then let me enjoy this while I'm still tall enough to lead."

As the song goes, you dance with Steve, loving how he slightly stumbles and needs to look down at his feet every couple of paces. It's not until you move both his hands to your hips and wrap your arms to hug around his neck that the tension leaves him, and you can sway together in harmony. As you lean your head down to his shoulder, you take in his scent and surprising warmth.

"Thank you, Steve..." you whisper in his ear, Steve chuckles for a moment, his hands seeming to tighten slightly.

"I just wish I was a better dancer... for you." 

"Well, I think that this is perfect." You look into his ocean eyes, "That you're perfect." His cheeks flush red as he smiles clearly not used to the complements. 

You take the time to trace over his handsome features like you have so many times before, but instead of your staring being secret, Steve's eyes stay on you before they flick down your lips. Your heartbeat races, and you can feel yourself blushing redder. Caught, he quickly looks back into your eyes, but that's when you lean in, moving to play with the golden hair at the nape of his neck. 

Swallowing, Steve focuses his eyes on your lips as he places his hand on your cheek, his thumb tracing your bottom lip.

"Steve... please…"

"Y-You Sure?"

"Yes." That's all you had to say as you closed your eyes and felt Steve take your first kiss. His full lips started sweet and shy before you felt the feeling of his tongue timidly asking for permission to push past your lips. As soon as you let him in and his tongue brushes against yours, he pulls away.

Steve looks at you guilty before he backs away. "I gotta go... tell Bucky I said goodbye."

"Steve, wait!"

But as the song ended, Steve was already gone... leaving with your first kiss and leaving you completely confused.

Thinking back on the memory makes you groan as you go over to your bed, plopping down with a thump. Who the hell kisses someone then leaves! Were you bad at it? Damn you, Steve Rogers, you fucking nerd! That stormy feeling of rejection starts to bloom within your chest. Was it rejection? It felt like it... and after the kiss, things were different. He didn't come around as much, and then he graduated.

Now he's back, tall, and still so cute. Who are you kidding? Steve looks downright sexy, and it isn't even fair! People are not supposed to get hotter like that! Steve looks like he's been living at the gym while your acne just cleared up. And from what you have seen from him tonight, he's still just as charming and lovely…

oh, universe, tho, are such a cold bitch...

The following day hits you like a ton of bricks. You feel as if you didn't get one wink of sleep last night. Dreams ranging from memories to fantasies have kept you from getting any rest. Sighing, you roll out of bed and maybe put on just a little bit of makeup... - Just to look less tired, not for any other reason…

Finally, you make it downstairs, rounding your way over to the kitchen, where the smell of fresh coffee wafs through the air. The sight looks like one from a Christmas card, with the garland hanging from the window and the Christmas-themed tea towels everywhere. Then there's Mom making a frantic list of last-minute needs, Bucky checking his phone, and Steve? Oh, Steve. He stands drinking his cup of coffee, and his eyes seem to go from tired to bright as soon as they lock with yours.

You chime out a good morning as you enter the room. Mom and Bucky mutter out a grody morning in response. 

“Good morning Scout, Coffee?” Steve says in what seems like anticipation and you just give him a small nod and a yes please as you walk to see what your mom is scratching away at. 

Looking over her shoulder as you sit confirms your thought that she needs last-minute things. As soon as you sit, a mug of fresh coffee is placed in front of you, with cream and sugar to follow. Looking up, you see Steve looking down at you with that same kind smile. 

Dammit, he's still so sweet…

"Such a gentleman..." your mom says almost teasingly. Yes, mom, you know! She gives you an expectant look, and all you can do is roll your eyes. 

"Last-minute list? I thought last year you said you were never shopping on Christmas Eve again?" she sighs, ripping the paper from the pad. “Unfortunately, some things can't be helped. So while me and your brother are at the store, you, my favorite daughter, will do the baking."

"I'm your only daughter."

"Jury is still out on that." Bucky snarks

Rolling your eyes, you discreetly shoot Bucky the bird that he fakes being insulted by. Though as soon as mom looks up you two are going back to being civil. . 

"What am I making this year?"

"Your wonderful Chocolate pie and Steve has requested Chocolate Chip Cookies." The request makes you give Steve a pointed look. He quickly turns away, making a fake whistle. You swear if he has only come back for your cookies, you don't care how big he is; you will throw him off the roof.

With the plans set Bucky slides out from his chair pocketing his phone, "Alright, Steve, let's get ready to go."

"Actually, I was going to hang back and give a hand with the baking." -what? 

"She would love that! So kind!" Your mom beams -excuse me? 

"Yeah, maybe you can help her keep the pies in one piece this year." Bucky snickers, teasing at the fact that every year, the pie always has a missing slice by morning. Bucky suspects it's you, considering you made it. You think it's Bucky, but nobody truly knows the truth. 

"I'm not the pie thief you are," you say, pushing Bucky with your elbow. Of course, Bucky isn't just going to take that… so he shoves you back, and the sibling bickering starts. 

"Am not"

"Are too!"

"Am Not!" 

"Are Too!" 

"Shut up!" Mom is quick to end the immature argument, but it doesn't stop you and Bucky from sticking your tongues out at each other—very mature.

"You, desserts, Bucky, with me, Steve, I'm sorry." With that, Buck and Mom are gone to do late shopping, leaving you and Steve alone in the kitchen.

It's quiet for a minute before Steve finally turns to you with a wide smile. "Just tell me what to do, Scout. You're in charge."

Ah, so you're leading now.

Grabbing the recipe book, you quickly flip through the pages until you find the right one. With a smile, you shove the book into his large hands. Steve doesn't even seem fazed as he keeps his eyes on yours.

"Chocolate pie, it's foolproof."

Steve cocks his head to the side, "Foolproof? Ouch, Scout." 

"Don't pretend to be offended. I've heard you and Bucky call each other much worse."

Steve steps closer to you, “I don’t know you seem to have a bit of meanness in you know, I saw you give him the middle finger.” Steve tsk his lips and you wince, of course he saw that…  

Not backing away from a challenge, you get even closer—so close you can smell the coffee off his breath. “Well Steve; you haven't seen me in a long time. I guess it only makes sense that I changed."

Steve shakes his head with a laugh as he looks over the recipe but keeping your little game going, "Don’t worry I plan on figuring that out while I'm here." 

“Figuring out what?" you say crossing your arms and popping out your hip, Steve's eyes move to you as they roam slowly over your body, then he smirks.  

"If you're still as sweet as I remember..." The way it just rolls off his tongue is so Sinful. Sure, he's still sweet, but now he's seemed to learn how to flirt. And with how your cheeks heat up from his words, you might be in trouble for falling even more for him.

Instead of quipping back, you just turn away and start gathering the ingredients you need. Trying desperately to ignore the budding tension. Baking in a kitchen with a handsome man can create its own kind of testion. But baking alone in a kitchen with an attractive man you once shared a first kiss with, now that tension could be cut with a knife. 

Time passes as you two continue to silently bake, you wish the teasing had not ended so abruptly because now you are coming up with all the best comebacks, figures…

Turning your head over your shoulder, you watch Steve cut up the chocolate bricks in fine flakes. His large hands are coated in chocolate, and watching his muscles tense and move with the quick movements of the knife is mouthwatering… 

Steve turns to look at you and gives you a soft smile. Quickly, you move your eyes to the cookie mix you're putting together, trying to seem like you are totally not staring at him, imagining how sweet his chocolate-coated fingers would be in your mouth. Rolling your eyes and taking a deep breath, you try to ground yourself in reality for a moment; you're in your parent's kitchen with your brother's best friend; this is not the time to be thinking horny thoughts.  

While lost in your internal struggle, you feel a large hand placed on your hip; The hand is gripping tightly making warmth instantly shooting tingles down your spine. Looking up, you see Steve reaching for a bowl that is very conveniently placed in the cabinet above you. His cologne invades your senses, and you can't be too mad about it. Also, the subtle way he's pushing and leaning on you is making his crotch rub against your ass, either he knows exactly what he's doing or doesn't care to give you any personal space. You imagine it's the latter. 

Once he's retrieved the bowl his breath is fanning against your ear, and his velvet voice numbs your mind to mush: " Sorry, Scout. I needed to grab a bowl." Oh, he's toying with you. 

Finding your grip on reality, you take your bowl of cookies and push yourself out of Steve's sexy radiance. "Next time, ask, huh?" 

You move over to the mixer and start mixing up the dough. You hear Steve clear his throat over the mixture. Looking over your shoulder again, you see his broad frame diligently mixing the filling over the stove. You hate how much you enjoy looking at him and his cute butt…

"Are you worried I'm messing up the mixing?" he calls over his shoulder. You quickly turn around and add the chocolate chips to the fluffy dough.

"Like I said... foolproof, I'm not worried." You say, trying to sound confident.

"So there's another reason why you're staring at me this whole time?" Does he have eyes in the back of his head!?

"I wasn't-"

"Don't even try it," Steve warns as he finally pours the chocolate mix into the pie crust and puts it in the oven to bake. Finally, he turns to face you, Crossing his massive arms in front of him. "I've felt your eyes on me this whole time." 

Shit... Returning to your mixer, you do your old faithful tactic when you don’t want to answer a question, “I don’t know what you're talking about.” 

You hear a groan thinking you have won but then there's a small sigh, "I know you're mad at me..." 

That makes you pause. Mad at him? Were you mad at him? Part of you was for awhile but when you really think about it now you're more confused than anything. You take a deep breath and finally say the one thing you had thought about most after that kiss. 

"You don't just kiss someone and then run away you know." 

You finally turn and see that you have Steves full attention, he rubs the back of his neck awkwardly trying to gather his thoughts.

"I know." he finally gets out.

"Then why did you-"

"I kissed you at the wrong time..." That throws you for a loop. Steve's blush makes the tips of his ears bright red as he continues." You were... lonely and sad..." 

It's your turn to interrupt, "Steve Rogers, did you pity kiss me?" 

Steve's eyes widen as he quickly reaches for you but holds off, "No! No, it was a real kiss... for me, it was a real kiss."

"What do you mean? That kiss felt real to me, I mean, it was my first kiss..." 

You feel yourself wanting to put up your guard but before you can you feel Steve's hands gently sliding up and down your arms before moving to your shoulders carefully brushing away your hair, "I want it to be better. To be right.” Steve's blue eyes look so softly down at you and you feel ensnared all over again. You lean in, and it feels all so familiar. When his hand comes to your cheek and his thumb brushes over your bottom lip, “When I kiss you again, you will know what I mean..." 

God, you want him to kiss you again,

”When?” You question.��

Steve leans in, his breath fanning over your lips, “How else will I know if you taste as sweet as you did that night..” 

You feel like you're melting as you close your eyes, the memories of his tongue tasting like peppermint making you crave it now. You rise to your tiptoes as Steve's arms curl around you,  but before you can do anything, the oven's timer is going off. 

Both of you jump before frantically looking for the oven mitts, running into each other as you reach for the oven. Finally, you two get the stove open and pull the pan out at the same time. It's so frantic and excessive you both can't help but laugh as you hold the pie.

"What are you two doing?" The sudden voice of bucky practically scares the crap out of you. 

Steve looks at his friend then just cocks his head, “Baking, obviously.” 

Bucky, ever clueless, just shakes his head as he puts bags of groceries away, you can not believe you almost kissed him again! And almost got caught. You take the pie and place it down to get cooled off. As you turn you run into your mother who is looking at you confused, you think for a moment she's trying to read your mind but then she places her cold hands to your cheeks. 

“Steve, what did you do to my girl? She looks flushed?” 

Steve just chuckles as he helps with the groceries, “I think she was standing too close to the oven, making her get hot.” 

You give him an unamused look, he knows what made you hat and it wasn't a damn oven. 

Hours later, long after you and Steve had finished the desserts, after sitting with your Mom and watching the same Christmas movies you did every year (though this year you might have been distracted…) and going to bed, you find that you're still tossing and turning thinking about Steve; what does he mean when he kisses you again… is he going to? You almost did, but then your family walked in… Will he have the chance? And what does he mean you taste sweet!

2am, and you're still thinking about him; years later, he can still rile you up and keep you second-guessing. Just is not fair, damn hot people…

Not seeing any end to your torment, you decide it's time for the perfect late-night medicine: a sweet treat. Making your way down to the kitchen as quietly as possible, you find the Christmas-themed Tupperware stashing the cookies and take one. The sweetest is only a temporary relief to your racing mind, however. Further trying to distract yourself, you open the fridge, checking the pie, making sure it's still intact, and it is. 

When you close the fridge, you lazily look around the dimly lit room till you see Steve in the doorway to the kitchen, wearing sweatpants and no shirt. Seriously, universe… 

"Looks like Bucky is right; you are the pie thief." 

"I was just checking on it, not eating it." 

Steve steps into the kitchen, takes a seat at the table, and gets himself a cookie as well. You decide to join in, your minds already filled with him. What's the harm? 

"Couldn't sleep?" 

"I thought I heard a pie theft." he taunts, making you chuckle, but it dies off quickly, and that same tension starts piling up again. 

"I was up thinking about you," Steve suddenly admits, "Thinking back on that night…" 

"The night you ran off with my first kiss?" You say it more bitterly than you meant it, but Steve doesn't seem to flinch. 

"I had thought of kissing you a long time before then," he confesses, warming your cheeks. 

"Why didn't you?" 

Steve doesn't look at you while he shrugs his mind on the past, "One, there's an unspoken rule about best friends, sisters, and… I didn't feel good enough, scrawny punk kissing a beautiful, kind girl like you. Thought you would have been modified. Then at the dance when we danced together… you called me perfect. Girls would have never thought to say that, but you did, and I just couldn't help it. When I kissed you, I knew it was wrong, and then I ran, which was even more messed up."  

Steve ends his confession by turning to you with a smile, "I screwed it up," 

You two sit silently, looking out the window into the dark, snowing night, "If you messed it up, why come back?" 

"I was hoping for a second chance, but… when I saw how mad you were and when we interrupted it… it kinda brought me back to reality, shook me and my plan up…" 

Tilting your head, you look at him confused, "Your plan?" 

You see, Steve blushes, "Charm you, and I hope I get to do it right this time…" 

Your laugh was involuntary. You couldn't believe that after all this time, he wanted a do-over. Steve Rogers, you are the biggest dork, and you love it. He looked embarrassed at you, laughing at his confession, but then you stood from your chair and reached down towards him. "Well? How are you going to charm me sitting down? This is your last chance, Steve. Don't blow it."

Steve grabs your hand, standing to his towering height, "What's the first step in the plan, Steve? I'll let you lead."  

"First…" Steve steps closer, bringing your arms to wrap around his neck and his hands to hide purchase on your fuzzy pajama bottom hips. "We sway just like that night." 

The two of you start to sway in that same slow dance, and though there is no music, you both know which one is playing in your mind as you move in perfect rhythm. Your hands move from his soft hair to slide down to his chest, where you feel his heart racing through his bare chest. He watches you intently before carefully bringing you to press against his warm body. You can no longer tuck your head into his neck, so you lean into his chest. Steve pauses, and you feel him bring his hand to your cheek, having you look up at him. 

"Second, I will tell you how I think you're the prettiest, funniest, kindest girl I've ever met and how, for years, I have thought of you." 

You bite your lip as you look into his blue eyes, which reflect the colors of the Christmas lights. "When's the part where you kiss me?" you say, a tad breathless. 

He brushes his thumb over your bottom lip, looking at their flushed color, "That's step three after I ask…" 

"Steve, kiss me before I lose my mind and pummel you." 

That was the exact invitation Steve was waiting for because the next thing you know, he's leaning down and kissing your lips slowly. His hands cupped your cheeks before sliding back down to your waist, his mouth carefully guiding you. It's just as sweet and warm as the first time, but now, with how he moves his lips gently with yours, you can tell he's practiced. Rising your toes, you wrap your hands around his neck and swipe your tongue against his lips, begging for them to part. Once they do, you slip your tongue to taste his. A slight grunt leaves his throat as his hands tighten -Yeah, you learned some things last time. 

Steve slides his hands down your body to find purchase on your ass, giving a squeeze and forcing a moan from you in the process before he lifts you up and places you on the contour. Breaking the kiss, he looks at your red face, catching your breath, "taste sweet.." he mumbles before tilting your head up to leave open-mouth kisses on your neck. 

The feeling of his burning tongue swiping at your sensitive skin has you tightening your thighs to try to ease your aching clit that's begging to feel him closer. As he's licking and marking your skin with reckless abandonment, your hands are pawing and tugging at his soft hair. Holding on to dear life, his head goes lower and lower, passing your collarbone. This must be that real kiss he talked about before. 

Your wandering hands meet the prominent bulge pressed against your leg; softly touching the hardness makes Steve pause as he softly moans into your neck. 

"Steve.." His lips kiss your neck slowly as he spreads your thighs, moving in between them. 

"Yes, baby… what do you want? Anything you want..." he says into your skin, making you shiver as his lips caress your sweet spot. 

You feel his bulge finally press against your covered cunt, and you can't help but gasp, "I want to feel you…" you finally tremble out as you move your hips slowly over him, grinding on his cock. 

Steve watches you in awe for a moment before he's repositioning himself and rocking his hips so the nip nudges your clothed clit over and over. Part of you think this might be a delicious dream; there is no way you're actually dry-humping with Steve on your kitchen table in your parent's house, is there? But when his fat tip teases your clit again, making your toes curl, you know this is a dream, this is real, and you don't care. You need him now. 

You're about to shimmy out of your bottoms and pull Steves down as well,  but the sound creaking of the stairs has you both snapping back to reality. The reality is your hands are about to pull down your pants while Steve has a huge tending boner, and you're on the kitchen table; if caught, there is no explaining that one. So quickly, you're hopping off the table and eagerly pulling Steve to hide in the kitchen's pantry with you. Safely hidden, you and Steve peer through the panty's louvered door to see who is ruining your late-night treat. 

Tiptoeing through the kitchen, you see your father making his way to grab a fork and then going to the fridge. Unbelievable. You owe Bucky an apology.

"That sneaky little—" Before you can finish whispering, you feel Steve wrapping his arms around you, his length pushing against you. Turning around carefully, you face him. Only the light streaming in illuminates his face, and you can just see that affection filling his eyes. 

Steve gently kisses your lips again, finding them way too easy in the dim dark. His hands curl around your waist, and his head rests in the crook of your neck. His warm breath makes you melt all too quickly. 

"Scout, I've liked you for so long…" he says into your neck. 

Cuddling him closer, you're about to confess your feelings, those feelings that you had from the moment you met him. Then, the pantry door opens, and you meet your father's shocked expression. His daughter is hiding in the pantry with tousled hair, and her brother's best friend, who is shirtless, is embracing each other. Not a great look…

Eyes going wide as you push yourself away from Steve, trying to fix your hair. Steve clears his throat awkwardly, turning his back towards your father, trying in vain to hide his prevalent bulge. Starting to fumble out an excuse, you're stuttering and panicking for an explanation, but your father is slowly shutting the door before you can even get out a syllable.   

You stare at the Shut door in shock. "He's so going to blab to my mother," you groan.

Back in the darkness, you feel Steve wrapping his arms around you. "Would that be so bad? She has been hinting about us getting together."

"Bucky is going to kick your ass."

Steve kisses your neck again, quickly learning where to tease you with his soft lips. "That's fine if you agree. Come out with me for New Year's." Turning, you press your cheek to his chest, cuddling closer. 

"Can we go dancing?

Steve Chuckles as he kisses your head and holds you tighter, says, "We can do whatever you want. I want to make up for lost time."

"Better late than never."

[camcameroon]

α ƒℓυƒƒвαℓℓ σƒ ƒєєℓιηgѕ

Satoru’s birthday gift of a kitten sparks hidden feelings for his lifelong best friend, blurring the line between friendship and love.

pairing: reader x Satoru Gojo

trope: childhood friends to lovers

wc:1.5k

tw: fluff, Satoru being hoplessly in love with reader, slowburn, businessman!gojo (briefly metioned), Ph.D student!reader(briefly metioned), gojo’s pov

an: hii!! This is my first ever fic, so apologies if it’s horrible, but i do hope you enjoy this fic c:

There’s gonna be a pt.2 to this!! Probably more from reader’s pov

p.s. any writing advice is highly appreciated!

┊ next chapter ➶

┊playlist to this fic ➶

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

You and Satoru have been best friends for ages.

Your mother was Gojo’s mother’s best friend, so you’d been stuck with the snow-haired boy since birth. Every birthday, family vacation, and first day of school was spent together. He was your partner in crime, your constant, your best friend.

However to Satoru, you were so much more than that.

It started when you were five.

•°. *࿐

It was your birthday, and you insisted on making your mom curl your hair. You wore a pink princess dress and accessorized with a sparkly tiara. To six-year-old Satoru, you weren’t just pretty—you were an actual princess.

But that wasn’t the moment you stole his heart. That came later, during the trivia fiasco.

At your birthday dinner, the host started asking trivia questions to keep the kids entertained. The prize? Kit-Kat (a well known favourite of yours and Satoru’s)

However, only you and Satoru were quick enough to answer, both being fueled by competition and the delicious Kit-Kat prize.

The host clapped her hands, signaling the next question. Everyone buzzed with excitement, but Satoru’s focus was entirely on you. Your tiara was slightly askew, cheeks flushed with determination.

“Alright, here’s a tough one,” the host teased. “What’s the fastest land animal?”

Satoru’s hand shot up, but you beat him to it, shouting, “Cheetah!” with a triumphant grin.

“Correct!” the host cheered. The table applauded, but you weren’t basking in the praise—all you were focused was on Satoru, his running figure and his glossy tear filled blue orbs.

You felt horrible, did you just hurt your best friend?

You found him sulking in a dimly lit corner.

“Hi…” you said softly, sitting next to him.

“What do you want?” he sniffled, refusing to meet your gaze.

“I’m sorry if I hurt you…”

“Whatever. I don’t care.”

“If I give you the Kit-Kat, will you talk to me?”

His eyes sparkled for a split second before narrowing again. “I don’t want your recycled prize.”

“It’s not recycled if you actually won,” you insisted.

“I didn’t win. Did you already forget?”

“The host said you did,” you fibbed, leaning into your lie. “She counted your hand since you raised it first.”

Satoru furrowed his brows, deep in thought, trying to work out how this could’ve happened. “Are you actually going to give it to me?”

“Only if you forgive me.”

He smiled, warmth spreading across his childish features. “Deal. Kit-Kat now, please.”

You giggled and handed it to him.

•°. *࿐

That was the moment Satoru Gojo realized you were magic—a goddess in human form.

Present Day.

You were older now, though none the wiser. Satoru had opened his own business after college, while you buried yourself in academia, pursuing your Ph.D. Despite the chaos of adulthood, your bond only grew stronger. Weekly hangouts were the norm, and you were convinced being an adult wasn’t all that bad.

But time had a way of sneaking up on you. Before you knew it, your 25th birthday was riiiiight around the corner—a milestone you and Satoru had dubbed “peak adulthood” as teenagers, because of this Gojo knew this birthday HAD to be special.

Lately you’ve been complaining how empty your apartment felt….?

DING!

Satoru is totally gonna crush your birthday present.

•°. *࿐

Happy birthday, loser!” he announced, kicking the door shut behind him.

You raised an eyebrow at the box, already wary. “What did you do?”

“Relax, it’s not going to explode or anything.” He set the box down and tugged at the ribbon tied around it. “Probably.”

You crossed your arms, trying to hide your curiosity. “Satoru—”

“Okay, okay, just open it already!” he interrupted, practically bouncing with excitement.

You crouched down, eyeing him suspiciously before carefully lifting the lid. A soft meow greeted you, followed by the sight of the tiniest, fluffiest kitten you’d ever seen.

Your hands flew to your mouth as your eyes went wide. “Satoru…”

“Meet Mittens,” he said, grinning like a kid on Christmas morning. “Happy birthday.”

For a moment, you didn’t say anything, too busy scooping the kitten into your arms and marveling at how tiny and warm it was. Finally, you looked up at him, eyes glossy with unshed tears.

“You— You got me a kitten?”

He shrugged, trying to play it cool despite the heat creeping up his neck. “Well, you were complaining about your place being too quiet, so… I figured you needed someone to keep you company. Someone besides me, obviously.”

You laughed, the sound bubbling out of you, this all felt so natural? “Satoru, this is… this is the best gift anyone’s ever given me.”

And just like that, the little fluffball had a home—and Satoru’s heart, already hopelessly tangled up in you, felt just a little fuller knowing he’d brought you a slice of happiness.

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

Him: whatcha doing??

You: just fed mittens, currently in a well-deserved cuddle session :^)

Him: WHAT?! Why’d you say that? I haven’t seen Mittens in, like, 50 billion years. You can’t do this to me.

You: oh quit being a drama queen. You literally saw him yesterday.

Him: isn’t that like 50 billion seconds? Same thing.

You: you’re ridiculous.

Him: i miss mittens :(

You have sent an attachment.

You: here’s a pic of mittens to ail your yearning.

Oh. My. God.

The only thing the photo did was fuel his yearning for you.

Were you trying to tug on his heart strings that were already unbearably broken by you?

All he could focus on were those lively eyes, you and your goddamn eyes. They were probably the only thing that made him shut up, that’s a rarity for mr.chattybox.

Your pupils made him so incredibly warm—to the point his skin was practically burning (he had a bad case of blushing.).

Why were you so utterly perfect? Why did you make him want to listen to 60s oldies and confess his undying love to you? Why did he even know what 60s oldies were and why was his spotify playing “Come home soon”???

He remembers how smiley and giddy you were when you showed him your latest obsession—The Intruders.

Your smile was particularly bright that day.

Your annoyingly kind smile, the photo didn’t do your smile justice, doesn’t change the fact that your smile did in-fact make his stupid heart skip a beat.

He knows all of your smiles—the specific smile in the photo was your “caring” smile, or that’s what he called it at least; this smile in particular is probably your brightest one, and his absolute favourite one: you’re smiling so hard, that your dimples are almost like little craters in your cheeks, your big doe eyes are bursting with happiness—making you look like an actual fucking angel.

So, that’s how he identifies your “caring” smile.

Fuck. He’s done it again.

God damn Satoru, do you have to be this obsessed??

Now his eyes roamed over from you to your kitten—Mittens and there was only one thought running through his mind:

Why on earth are you the textbook example of the perfect wife to him and mother to his future kids?

I mean, you treat your cat better than most people treat their babies; leaving multiple trays of food scattered around your apartment, having multiple litter boxes for your cat (even though you live in an apartment that’s practically smaller than a shoebox), using lavender scented litter(that you went on a scavenger hunt trying to find one that’s not toxic to your fur babies).

•°. *࿐

Those were the little things that made this ice cold heart melt into a boiling puddle of water

Why the fuck were you the kindest soul to grace his presence?

Why the fuck were you so perfect?!

Why the fuck is he even allowing himself to think about you—his best friend like that?!

You were perfect.

•°. *࿐

You: did u like disappear or something?

Him: just sulking over how dumb I was to give YOU Mittens instead of keeping him for myself.

You: rude?!???

Him: nah, just realistic. Sleep with one eye open, tho.

You: are you THREATENING me??

Him: presumably.

You: you’re buying me dinner for this.

Him: haha, sure. Broke college student.

You: fuck you ☹️

Him: Chinese tomorrow, my place, 6 pm. Bring Mittens. :^)

•°. *࿐

You roll your eyes, completely unaware of the battlefield that is Satoru’s brain right now.

Satoru collapsed back onto his bed, phone still in hand, staring at your messages like they were the secrets to the universe.

You were killing him—slowly, sweetly, and entirely.

God, he’s so gone for you.

But maybe, just maybe, tomorrow will be the day he stops being such a coward and tells you how he truly feels.

Or maybe he’ll just spend the entire dinner blushing like an idiot while Mittens steals the spotlight again. Either way, it’s a start.

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

thank you for reading ^^!!!

[kievlyane]

next year would be so interesting to see how max would manage both lewis and charles in red🤭 well, he obviously has something for ferrari drivers bc what the hell is this maxie?

and now his childhood rival and his stranger to enemy to friend trope gonna be at one team fighting with him for championship… those 163344 fics gonna be delicious

max with newly repaired relationship with lewis, maxplaining to him, not realising that his nemesis is standing fuming behind him and throwing daggers at lewis, who absolutely enjoys it

yes, there’s gonna be three way battle for wdc, but damn sure ferrari drivers would enjoy fight for max too

[ecoterrorist-katara]

You mentioned that your first ship was percabeth what did you like about it? I'm just rereading the books since I havent read it in over a decade and Im surprised how well it still holds up with the friends to lovers. Personally I feel like it did the subtle lines between platonic and romantic and how with each book the lines got blurred. I feel like with FTL its actually really hard to write organically because its hard to write that change from platonic to romantic without one side seeming like they are almost being convinced into it (usually the girls side).

hello anon!! Sorry it took me SO long to get to your ingenious ask. I was like "hmm haven't read PJO since I was thirteen, time for a re-read" and I just kept...getting sidetracked.

Even as an ETL enjoyer myself, I subconsciously took it for granted that enemies-to-lovers is inherently more toxic in comparison to friends-to-lovers. You're absolutely right, though, that FTL comes with its own set of baggage. For whatever reason, I've never extrapolated that baggage to the trope as a whole.

One of the critiques I often see of ETL is that F/M ETL reproduces heteronormative gender roles and power dynamics*. That’s true, but that's a risk in FTL too, like you said. "Guy falls for girl and pressures her to return his feelings" is very much a gendered dynamic. The friendzone is, by definition, unique to FTL ships, and there are many many well-known examples where a male character pressures his female friend to return his feelings and makes her uncomfortable: Gale and Katniss, Bella and Jacob, Katara and Aang, etc. To be clear, I absolutely don't mind if one party falls first in an FTL dynamic, but how that person conducts themselves makes all the difference. (I also don't think it's a coincidence that in the examples I listed, the only character to end up with the girl they liked was Aang...who was also the only character written by men.)

Also, this is a side note, but I think it's pretty funny that people think friends-to-lovers is inherently wholesome? Have we forgotten that Heathcliff and Cathy is a classic case of childhood friends-to-lovers? Less dramatically, I'm very partial to versions of Wolfstar where Sirius and Remus are both huge messes as a result of trauma/war etc and say mean things to each other.

Anyway...onto Percabeth. I loved Percabeth for the same reasons you do: I thought the slow burn was impeccably organic. I also loved the mutual pining. Even though the book was from Percy's POV, it was very obvious to me that Annabeth liked him, possibly even before he recognized his own feelings. The mutual devotion in their friendship felt really special to me and I never felt like romantic interest will jeopardize the friendship. Fundamentally, my favourite friends-to-lovers romances have this kind of dynamic: it’s fine if they don’t get together because their friendship can survive anything, but of course they will -- it's obvious to everyone!

A gradual slow burn friends-to-lovers is catnip to me, whether in original fiction or fanfic. I want to be salivating for the mutual confession! I want to feel the yearning! I want to giggle in a very high-pitched fashion and scream when they get it wrong! Some of my favourite fics, even in ETL ships, are actually FTL. My favourite Dramione fic of all time is Lionheart. As for Zutara, basically all post-canon fics are FTL: refraction, Katara Alone, The Horizon, Another Word for Alchemy, Half Asleep, etc. FTL is hard to write, but when it's done well? Chef's kiss. Delicious.

A lot of Ka/taang vs. Zutara discourse tends to fall along "do you prefer FTL or ETL," with the conclusion that if you prefer FTL you'll like Ka/taang...but it's precisely because I'm an FTL enthusiast that I don't like KA! I think it was written poorly! It stumbles right into the exact pitfalls of FTL you identified, and there are so many better FTL romances out there that don't rely on pressure as a source of conflict/drama.

Anyway: anon you've made me think a lot, and I'm very grateful! Big hug to you.

*Footnote: obligatory disclaimer that fiction is fiction and people can ship whatever dynamic they like.

[the-invisibility-bloke]

001: Sebinis!

Always. <3

-

001 | send me a ship and I will tell you:

when I started shipping it if I did: March 2023, while still on my first playthrough. My partners and I were joking about who would top, Ominis or Sebastian, ​and decided to see what AO3 had to say about it. The rest is history. :D

my thoughts: AAAAAAAAAAAAA. I mean. I met so many wonderful friends because of them. This ship will be in my heart forever. They have an incredible setup, the sweet boy trying to leave his dark family behind, and the orphan who tumbles into the dark with good intentions. They're gold standard shipping material.

What makes me happy about them: THEY'RE CUTE AS SHIT. The way Sebastian teases him,​ they way they so obviously care about each other to the point that Ominis is the only one whose opinion Sebastian actually respects. They've been best friends since childhood and that makes the break of their bond that much more traumatic. DELICIOUS.

What makes me sad about them: ​​The catacombs. :( Sebastian's general assholery and how deeply it wounds Ominis. No matter what happens post-canon, their relationship is permanently damaged. Sebastian is just too self-absorbed in the end, and that's what makes a good ship, but damn it hurts.

things done in fanfic that annoys me: Happy to share in DMs, but I'll refrain from ​answering here; I don't want to any​one to stop writing what they love.

things I look for in fanfic:​ I love the trope that their relationship starts developing before canon, because that makes it angstier when they fall apart. I also love them coming together at some point after canon, when they've drifted apart, and they have to sort of rebuild from scratch. Drarry vibes. But generally canon compliant... and little to no MC involvement, haha.

Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other:​ My HC of Garreth would be perfect for Ominis, a far better partner than Sebastian, let's be honest. XD And, uh... Marvolo, I suppose, but I don't think that's a very healthy match. ;) SEBASTIAN DOESN'T DESERVE ANYONE.

My happily ever after for them:​ They recover after canon events, build a relationship together, get married, and Ominis takes Sebastian's name which is why he doesn't show up in the Gaunt family tree. :) :) :)

who is the big spoon/little spoon:​ I think they switch up, Ominis is canonically a bit taller I think? (Or is that fanon? I actually wrote him shorter so who knows.) But I do HC him as more of a bottom and thus a lil' spoon.

what is their favorite non-sexual activity:​ MISCHIEF. Hijinks with Anne. At least, before everything went to shit. Pranks and silliness and practicing spells in the Undercroft, exploring the areas of Feldcroft. Probably reading together too, Sebastian's a giant bookworm and you can see parts of the game where they're just sitting together reading, it's adorable.

[shuchu]

im not even a kyo stan but like 😳 imagining the trope where childhood friends get seperated for a while and when they reuinte again, person a is shocked at how much person b has changed and now person a is confused and flustered around person b 🥺

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅ different but familiar ₊˚ෆ

character(s): kyo kaneko

note: gn!reader ; fluff ; not proof read!

a/n: oh gosh i haven't written a proper fic in ages... i apologise if this is sloppy ;w; but hey, my first kyo fic o_o despite being a kyomie for a while now lol oops. i actually really enjoyed writing this, it made me feel all soft and warm on the inside hehe. this kinda ended on a cliffhanger, let me know if you guys want a part two!! thank you anon for the idea!! enjoy lovelies ♡

art credit

you were on your way to the coffee shop nearby to get your coffee before heading to work. you take a deep breath of the crisp autumn air as you walk through a carpet of leaves, hearing them crunch beneath your feet. you swing open the door and hear the little jingle of the bell before the delicious smell of freshly baked pastries mixed with the fragrant scent of coffee wafts towards your nose. a faint smile graces your features as you walk towards the counter to order.

"hi what can i get for you today?" the cheerful cashier asks.

"i'll have an oat milk cappuccino with 2 shots of espresso as well as a croissant please." you respond, giving the cashier a friendly smile.

"will that be all?"

"yep! thank you!"

just as you were about to pull out your card to pay, you see someone reach forward to tap their card on the machine. you turn to your left to see who it was. a guy with light blue hair smiles at you and says, "my treat."

as you walked over to the collection counter with him, you were trying to figure out why this guy looked so familiar. did you know him?

and then it hit you...your eyes widened as you looked at him

"kyo?"

he turned towards you with a soft chuckle, "took you long enough."

"oh my gosh...i haven't seen you in..." your voice falters as you try to recall the number of years

"thirteen years." he says as he looks at you with a small smile

"oh wow...it's been that long huh? how've you been? i hope mr. and mrs. kaneko have been well."

"oh yeah i've been busy, got a job that literally takes up all of my time. my parents are doing good though, thank you for asking about them."

"so...what brings you back to our quaint little town?"

"well...my mom and dad wanted to meet some old friends and catch up with them. i've been working tirelessly for months without a break so i decided..."

kyo's voice drifts off, melting together with the background ambiance of the coffee shop as you stare shamelessly at him, noticing the changes in his appearance since you last saw him.

oh wow, when did he get his ear pierced? his face changed a lot...it's a lot more defined now. also, he shot up so much what the heck?! i was taller than him when we were kids...that's so unfair, why do guys get so much taller after puberty...wait, was he always this handsome...?

"hey...hey y/n...are you done checking me out?" kyo's voice gets clearer again as you snap out of your thoughts. you feel your cheeks heat up after getting caught staring at him and because of the close proximity between the both of you. he leaned in to get your attention and now both of your faces were just a few inches apart.

you avert your gaze to compose yourself and mumble, "i wasn't checking you out..."

he leans back and chuckles, "uh huh...so tell me what i said then." he teases, a smirk evident on his face.

you stay silent because obviously you didn't hear what he said, he chuckles and flicks your forehead gently, "you haven't changed a bit, always spacing out."

you move your hand to rub the spot he flicked with a pout, "quit it, you're still as annoying as you were back then." you giggle after and he laughs too. it felt nice to joke around with him again. your heart swells with happiness, you've missed him — more than you thought you did.

the barista calls out your name and you go to grab your order.

"i'm assuming you're headed off to work now, where do you work by the way?"

"oh it's just 3 blocks down, that massive office building?"

"oh yeah, i know which one you're talking about. what time do you get off work?"

"6pm."

"oh perfect, i'll see you then. we need to have a proper catchup. dinner's on me too." he says with a boyish grin.

"no that's okay, i can-"

"nuh uh uh, no can do. um...i'm sure you have to start walking, it's almost 9am. you don't wanna be late to work do you?" he says as he places his hands on your shoulders and swivels you around to face the direction of your office.

you click your tongue and start walking, turning your head back to respond to him, "we'll see mr kaneko. i'll have my card ready this time."

"byeee! good luck at work! i'll see you at 6!" he calls out as he waves at you

you wave too and turn back around with a sappy smile on your face, your cheeks flushed. well that's something to motivate me to get through work today

[strawberryscarecr0w]

Alphonse x Seth x GN! Reader

~ ~ ~

CW: BDSM, Jealousy, Argument, Use of Alcohol, Light Bondage, Smut with plot, Established relationship, Out of character, Overstimulation, Everyone being grumpy assholes, Hair pulling if you squint, “Make me,” trope, Brat reader x Mean doms, Lots of Aftercare, Oral (M receiving), Eiffel Tower position

These plans had been set for weeks, you had to plead with your boyfriends to go with you. Your childhood friends had invited you as well as Alphonse and Seth to go out to this halloween party. The whole day had gone great, work went smoothly, the fresh batch of cookie you’d made tasted delicious, everything was perfect. Until your beloved boyfriends came home in a horrible mood.

“Hey boo,” Your favorite pastel punk greeted as he dropped his work bag off on the counter. Seth barely grumbled a hello, both were clearly not in the best mood.

“Welcome home! How was work?” You asked nervously, reading their less than pleased expressions. “Take a wild fucking guess,” Alphonse mumbled as Seth just huffed, kicking off his shoes.

“Not great?” You said, sympathy in your voice, leaving your station at the fridge to go comfort your tired boyfriends. Al melted into the hug, humming a response into your hair. Seth sighed, walking over to press a kiss to the side of your head. Once the two pulled away, they started their retreat to their shared bedroom. “Oh! Don’t forgot we have those plans to meet with my friends at the bar.” You said, turning back to the cookies you’d baked, you hadn’t even noticed their footsteps had stopped. “You can’t be serious right?” Seth said, sounding almost irritated as you looked over your shoulder. “We made these plans weeks ago, we can’t just cancel.” You said with a nervous laugh, “That would be inconsiderate.” Alphonse let out a dramatic groan, “Boo, can we please just cancel? You can make it up to your friends another time, we’re tired.” He whined, almost pouting at you. “No, we already canceled once, it’s not fair, you two said this morning that you’d come home and help me with the cookies but you came home late and I had to finish on my own.” You sighed, you weren’t upset that they came home later than expected but they had promised they would go to this party with you. “If it is that important, we’ll go.” Seth grumbled as he slipped into their bedroom, Alphonse following with a roll of his eyes. You were left alone in the kitchen, fighting back your irritation as you took in a few quick breaths before turning back to your baked goods.

Thirty minutes pass and they return from their room. By now you had packed up everything you needed for the party, all you needed were your boys. Seth had slipped into jeans and a white t-shirt while Alphonse was in a black hoodie and his classic bleached jeans. “You two look good,” You hummed, smiling, feeling your irritation begin to fade as the boys seemed to lighten up a bit. After some quick trips to the car, they were on their way to the bar. The drive was pretty quiet, you at the wheel while Seth sat in the passenger seat with Alphonse in the back. “So,” You said, trying to break the awkward tension, “why are you two so tired?” Seth sighed at your question, turning away from the window to look at you. “I had to handle customer services today because our usual guy got sick last minute.” He said, rubbing his temples. You scoffed at the irony and couldn’t help but let the comment slip, “It’s sucks when people try to cancel something they committed to last minute.” Almost instantly both of them seemed to bristle, Alphonse scoffing under his breath. “Not fair, Boo, we’re the ones who had hard days today, y’know going out there and making actual money? What did you do all day anyways, bake fucking cookies?” He snapped, coming out harsher then intended, almost instantly beginning to apologize before you cut him off, “Funny you say that considering how you barely make shit.” Seth let out a unamused snort, the comment feeling more personal than he would have liked. The rest of the ride to the bar was filled with a pissed uncomfortable silence. Once they pulled into the parking lot, Seth quickly got out of the car followed by Alphonse. You got out, ignoring the glares at the back of your head as you pulled your sweets out of the trunk of the car. “Cmon.” You hissed sharply, satisfied at the begrudging footsteps that followed behind as you entered the party.

An hour went by and you’d almost lost the boys in the crowd. There were people everywhere at the party, you had been dragged out to the dance floor by your friends and hadn’t quite found your way back to the quiet corner where you’d last been with your boyfriends. After a couple of drinks, you had been dancing with no remorse. You wouldn’t be considered really even tipsy but the bit of alcohol in your system had made you feel brave. A hand gripped your shoulder, making you turn only to be greeted by a stranger. “Hey sweetheart, can I buy you a drink?” The man said, looking up and down your figure. Usually you would have beat the guys ass for even looking in your direction but as you were about to tell him to fuck off, you had an idea. “Fuck it, sure.” You replied as you allowed the man to drag you to the bar, as you walked through the crowd you made eye contact with Seth who was being a wall flower, Al at his side. Almost immediately, his eyebrows raised in outrage, elbowing poor Alphonse so hard he nearly toppled over. You grinned at them, tossing a wink at the pissed off cowboy before disappearing back into the crowd, dragged away by the stranger. Once the man had sat down with you, two drinks were poured and you downed yours quickly as the man made a weak attempt at flirting with you. You only nodded politely as your eyes wandered through the crowd, once your gaze settled on the corner where your boys had been hiding. To your dismay, they weren’t there anymore, you’d barely had a moment to wonder where they had gone before a familiar arm wrapped around your waist, yanking you from your seat. You began to protest only to hear a southern voice snarling at you to shut up. As quickly as you had been picked up, you were tossed over Seth’s shoulder, Alphonse leading the way through the crowd as you kicked, screaming as you pounded on Seth’s back. The music was too loud for your complaints to be heard so there was no trouble as you left. You were tossed in the back of the car as Alphonse and Seth took the front seats. “Hey assholes! Maybe warn me next time you’re gonna fucking kidnap me?!” You shouted from the back seat earning a sarcastic chuckle from Seth. “It’s not kidnapping, brat, we’re dating or did you forget? You seemed to have a fun time ignoring our relationship when you were googly eyeing that piece of shit.” Alphonse snapped back, his tone becoming mocking as Seth drove them home. You knew better than to reply, letting the rest of the ride sit in silence. 

Once they’d pulled into the driveway, car coming to a stop, Seth pulled you from your seat, practically dragging you inside with Alphonse trailing behind. The front door slammed shut and you turned, expecting Seth to let you go as the trio entered the kitchen. Usually if they did argue, which was rare, it would happen in the kitchen. This time though, you were dragged to the bedroom. You were barely given the time to question before you were tossed on the bed. “What the hell?!” You shouted angrily but your complaints fell on deaf ears as Alphonse pinned you down, Seth pulling his shirt off as Al spoke, “Y’know, we should of just stayed home maybe snuggled up and ate those goodies you made but no, you wanted to drag us out even when we were exhausted. Now you gotta pay the price, that little stunt you pulled? Not cool, Boo, actions have consequences.” He said, shaking his head in mock disappointment. You swallowed hard, trying to stand your ground despite the warmth you started to feel spread between your thighs at the anticipation. “Well- if you two had just kept your word then maybe I wouldn’t have been so bratty.” That earned a laugh from Seth who ran a hand through his brown hair, “We did keep our word,” he pointed out, “you just decided it wasn’t enough.” At that, you found yourself blushing in embarrassment, looking away as you realized he had a point. Seth sighed, his eyes meeting Al’s as they came to some silent agreement. After a moment of quiet, Seth moved between your legs, parting them with his hands as he rested his head in between them. “Were we not giving you enough attention, sugar? Did you need us so badly that you felt the need to act out?” He cooed, leaning his face into your thigh as he looked up at you. At that moment you had been too flustered by Seth that you hadn’t noticed Alphonse sliding behind you until something bonded your wrists. With a squeak of surprise, you turned to see Al’s signature bejeweled belt tied tight around your wrists. “Why don’t you tell us how bad you need it, how bad you want this dick.” Alphonse whispered in your ear, making you jump at the boldness of his statement. As Seth held eye contact with you, he began to place kisses on your thighs, making you flush. You finally looked away from the cowboy between your legs to give Al attention, only then processing what he said. “Make me.” You breathed out, chuckling when Alphonse’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. After a moment of silence, Al’s hand grabbed a fist full of your hair, shoving your face down into the sheets. It wasn’t long before the little shorts you had put on had been dragged down to your ankles, bringing your underwear along with it.

The boys maneuvered until Al sat in front of you and Seth kneeled behind you, hands gently rubbing your hips. You watched eagerly as Alphonse unzipped his jeans, not noticing Seth’s hands spreading you until he roughly pushed two fingers in your needy hole. You whined, fighting back protests for him to go slower as his fingers rapidly curled  into your sweet spot. A much softer hand slid into your hair, redirecting your attention as Alphonse pulled out his dick, the tip tapping against your lips. You got the memo and opened your mouth, your tongue sliding over the tip while Al chuckled above you. “Oh now you’re behaving huh?” His grip on your hair got rough and he used you to shove himself more in. The tip hit the back of throat, causing you to gag as you desperately tried to breath through your nose. You hadn’t even noticed Seth’s fingers sliding out of you until you felt the cold air against the back of your thighs. Before you could question it, you heard the familiar click of his belt being unbuckled. As you tried to pull back, Al yanked you farther along his dick, causing tears to form in your eyes. There was warmth against your thigh and you jumped at the feeling of Seth’s leaky tip rubbing between your legs, brushing your entrance. You flinched, moaning as he pushed himself in, the stretch ached as you struggled to get used to his size. Seth was smaller than Al but he had much more girth than him. After a moment of making sure you were comfortable, he pulled out only to slam back into you, falling into a fast paced rhythm. Alphonse quickly followed, using your hair as leeway to thrust into your mouth. As Seth rammed into your sweet spot, it was getting harder to think. You were moaning out fragments of an apology that were muffled by Al’s cock in your mouth. The tears that had rimmed your eyes began to fall, trailing down your flushed out face. Alphonse pulled out for a moment to let you catch your breath as Seth repositioned himself, you opened your mouth to tell them how sorry you were but you never got the chance. He slammed back into you but this time he hit that one spot that had your toes curling and your vision going white. The tightness that had begun to form in your stomach snapped, your orgasm hitting you like a bus as you came all over his cock. Your brain was fuzzy as you tried to get your bearings, Alphonse gently pried your jaws open, his tip resting on your tongue as you sucked mindlessly. You thought Seth was finished but then his hips moved, pulling almost all the way out before slamming back into you. The thrust caused you to jolt forward, turning you started to speak, “Just w-wait a secon-!” You were cut off as Al yanked your head back, slamming himself into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat. Fresh tears poured down your face as your overstimulated wails were muffled. That tightness in your stomach was returning rapidly, your toes curled as your legs began to shake. You were choking on Al’s dick, spit running down your chin. Their thrusts were starting to become sloppy, falling out of sync with eachother.

Soon enough you hit your climax again, cumming with a broken moan as you felt warmth slide down your throat and the familiar feeling of being full washed over you. The room was filled with the sounds of heavy breathing and soft sobs as you tried to regain your composure. Seth pulled out of you, leaning over to untie Al’s belt, rubbing your wrists where the skin had rubbed raw. You slumped down on the bed, exhaustion taking over you. Al ran his hands through your hair, soothing over any aches you had from the rough treatment from earlier. An arm slid under you and you were scooped up into the warm arms of your loving cowboy. You could hear Alphonse following the two of you into the bathroom as Seth turned on the faucet of the bath, letting it fill. Once the water had run warm, you were placed in the bathtub, sighing contently at the heat. There was a soft hand rubbing your arm, an attempt to get your attention. As you turned your head, you were met with soft blue eyes, “You okay, Boo? Did we go too rough?” Alphonse asked gently, rubbing circles into your skin. You shook your head no as Seth chuckled, “Sugar’s tough, they can take anything we throw at them.” He joked, helping wash your body, hands traveling over your tired limbs. “Sorry I entertained that loser,” You mumbled sheepishly, earning amused looks from the two of them. “It’s okay Boo, he’s got nothing on us.” Al said with a mischievous grin, lightly elbowing Seth. You smiled, letting the warmth of their love wash over you as you felt yourself drift off to sleep in the tub, they’d carry you later but for now they let you rest for the night.

~~~ Word count: 2,592

i wrote a essay, you’re welcome 😭

[xxchumanixx]

Here's my Magnum PI Thomas x reader request 🤗 it's some kind of the always loved enemies to lovers trope, with hurt reader, an annoyed Thomas with slightly asshole vibes but he improves during the story until we have our beloved cute sassy Thomas with his heart of gold. So let's go (please feel free to change the details, to ignore the request or just use some aspects).

Reader was a good friend of Rick and moved recently to Hawaii

She needs help cause she's threatening due to an investigation she made to write an article (I imagine her as a journalist, but of course you change that)

Rick is worried for the safely of his childhood beat friend and so he is determined to keep her safe. And what place is the safest on the island? Robin's Nest with the 24/7 protection of Thomas Magnum

Thomas is absolutely not amused to play "babysitter" as he refers to it

Reader feels really uncomfortable to intrude and Thomas complaining is making her more shy than she already is

She doesn't want to annoy Thomas more so she tries to be invisible in the house

Thomas often teases her in bad way

I picture reader as a shy but lovely young woman and to make it a bit more dramatic she suffers from bad migraine attacks when under stress and stress is what hee bothers her now. The bad feeling that Thomas hates her and having a target on her head makes her health spiraling

When one day Rick wants to visit his friend and Thomas he notices her feeling super bad (dizziness, nausea, bad migraine) and also explains Thomas the whole situation (her health, the reason she's threatened and her huge sense of justice). Maybe Rick also explain him that she's like a little sister to him etc

Thomas begins to see reader differently and his behavior changes. He takes care for her stops being an asshole

Soooorry I know it's long :D and I've got sooo many ideas but I don't want to waste more of your time. Even if I have another idea for a story in which reader works with Thomas and at first they don't get along sooo great and she hides a severe injury from him....

I hope my request doesn't bother you.

Love your work

Vitamins and Bulletholes

Thomas Magnum x fem!reader

Warnings/Tags: fluff, hurt, angst, reader has migraine attacks Word count: 4.786 Authors note: Hello love, thanks for the request! I'm always down for some enemies to lovers, so I'm very exited about this idea! I know this problem with having too many ideas, I also have so many of them (especially when I don't have time to write, like when I'm at work, have to sleep or whatever), and sometimes I even mix them up, because I lose focus. Whupsi... So I really appreciate how detailed your request is! Also, I'm a migraine patient as well, so I know how bad these attacks can be... Anyways, lets get going! Enjoy!

Hawaii.

It was like breathing the freshest and most delicious air on planet earth.

Fragrances you would nowhere else smell, sights you would nowhere else see.

It was magical, pure bliss.

The birds singing melodies in the trees, wearing the most colorful and beautiful feathers you could imagine.

After your first vacation on the island, you knew that someday, you would move here. Now the time had come, finally having made your dream come true.

Rick, your childhood best friend (and maybe your first crush) had helped you move, accompanied by his friend TC.

TC was like a big, cuddly teddy bear. He didn't have to do much to wrap you around his finger. He was nice and sweet, something you at first wouldn't have imagined, given his size and broad shoulders.

You had bought a house, a very nice one with a beautiful garden. It wasn't cheap, but after saving every penny you could, it made it even more worth the wait.

The whole moving situation, finding a new job and stuff, caused you to suffer from migraine attacks more frequently, though. You were prone to them, especially when you were under pressure or exposed to stress.

After settling in, starting your new job as a journalist, and finally getting to breathe more freely, the attacks luckily lessened again.

That was, until you did something dumb.

Very dumb.

You weren't new to dangerous situations, having your fair share with gangs and bad people, something that came along with being a journalist back in Chicago.

This, was something entirely different, though.

But how did you get into this situation in the first place?

When your boss, an ambitious and eager woman with zero tolerance for failures, told you to bring up something big, you inwardly rubbed your hands.

This was your chance to move up the ladder, to impress her.

That you would have a target on your back by the end of the day, you didn't know then.

Originally, you were supposed to get a statement of a young man, exposing a chemical company that was said to dispose off their toxic waste in a nearby river, contaminating the water and making people sick.

Originally.

That he was being observed by people hired by said company, neither of you knew - nor even noticed.

But they saw you, and when they broke into your house, threatening your life when you made the mistake to talk back, you slowly realized in what kind of situation you had maneuvered yourself.

That the man was killed only a few days later, gave you the final push to do something about it.

"Y/N, you're on Hawaii for barely a month now, and you already managed to pin a target on your back?" Rick yelled, frustration and confusion clear on his face, as he threw the towel he had used to wipe his hands with on the counter.

Rubbing your face, you sighed, only the more realizing how bad your situation really was.

"I know..." you groaned, sipping your coke, the dull pain behind your forehead returning. "But how was I supposed to know this would happen? I mean, he was at a damn safehouse, they shouldn't have even known where he was!"

Rick cocked a brow at your words, leaning on his elbows, his face inches from yours. "Did they exchange your brain for a dumb one, when you moved here?" he wanted to know, sending you a pointed look.

Rolling your eyes, you pushed him, causing him to chuckle slightly.

"You know how this works, you should have noticed them after being in this industry for the last couple years now." he spoke softly, sighing.

"I know..." you grumbled, rubbing your temples. He bit his cheek, scratching his chin. "Migraine?" he guessed, standing more straight again. You nodded slightly, digging in your bag for some painkillers.

Once you had found them, you swallowed them with the coke, before your gaze wandered through the bar.

"Did I mention how great it is that you own a bar?" you asked, smiling at Rick as you looked back at him. He chuckled, cleaning a few glasses.

"Free drinks for me?" you asked slyly, smirking at him, as you batted your lashes. He laughed, shaking his head. "No, even if you're my sister, you have to pay for your drinks like the others do."

You huffed playfully, emptying your glass, before you slid it over to him. He took it as he shook his head at your attempt. "Even Thomas has to pay for them."

Narrowing your eyes at him, you leaned more towards him, propped on your elbows. "When do I get to meet the infamous Thomas Magnum?" you wanted to know, tilting your head.

Rick had told you about him multiple times, they had served together with TC, were best friends. He was living on Hawaii as well, working as a private investigator.

"Infamous, huh?" someone spoke behind you, causing you to turn towards the source of the voice. "Huh." you made quietly, mimicking him.

Speaking of the devil, right?

He smiled at you, holding out his hand for you to shake. "Thomas Magnum." he introduced himself, as you took his hand. "And you must be the infamous Y/N Y/L/N, I assume."

You nodded, taking him in.

He was even more handsome than he was on the pictures Rick had sent you.

"Rick talks about you nonstop." he told you, smirking. You blushed a little, chuckling. "Only good things, I hope." He nodded, chuckling as well.

"Thomas, perfect timing." Rick mused, drawing Thomas' gaze towards him, as he cocked a brow. "Is Higgins with you?" Thomas shook his head, denying. "What do you need?"

Rick hesitated a second, licking his lips.

"Y/N here, works as a journalist." he started, motioning at you. "And she somehow managed to make some people very mad." Thomas mouth twisted, eyes narrowing. "What type of people?" he wanted to know, glancing at you.

You swallowed, sighing, as Rick answered for you.

"She was supposed to investigate in that case of Cleantec disposing of its chemical waste in a nearby river." he explained. "She interviewed a former employee, that was at a safehouse, because he was supposed to testify in court."

"He's dead now." you chimed in, licking your lip, before you bit down on the cushion.

Thomas' brows furrowed, as he looked between you and Rick.

"The people responsible for his death threatened her. Now we're worried that they're after her as well." Rick continued, hesitating again. "And the only place where she would be really safe at is Robins Nest."

Thomas' eyes widened, mouth agape. "And now you're suggesting that we let her stay at hotel Robins Nest?" he concluded, brows raised. He didn't seem all too happy about the idea.

Rubbing your eyes, you swallowed. Of course you were scared - Hell, the whole killer at your back situation scared the living shit out of you, but you didn't want to be a burden to anyone.

"I'm worried for her safety, Thomas." Rick pressed, sending him a pleading look. "I don't want to be a burden." you cut in, before Rick could have said more. "I can handle this on my own."

Thomas bit his lip, clearly torn between helping and not.

Then he pulled out his phone, dialing someone.

"Hey Higgins." he began, his free hand playing with a beer mat. "Ricks friend, Y/N, is being targeted by killers, and now she needs someplace safe to stay at. Do you think we can let her stay at Robins Nest?"

It was quiet for a few seconds, as Higgins answered him. "Okay, thanks." Thomas then said, before he ended the call. "You can stay." he told you, stuffing the phone back inside his pocket.

Eyes widening, you thanked him, still unsure if you should really do this. But it was better than constantly having to watch your back, right?

"You need to keep her safe at all costs." Rick clarified, leaning foward to underline his words. Thomas' brows rose, pointing at himself. "I'm not a babysitter." he made clear, gaze wandering towards you for a split second.

Ricks eyes widened in earnesty, not believing he heard him right. "She's my sister, Thomas." he pressed, shaking his head. "She needs to stay safe. If you won't do it, I will."

Thomas groaned in discontent, but you cut him off, before he was able to respond.

"Look-" you began, holding out your arms in a gesture of diffidence and surrender. "you don't have to keep a watch on me - I'm sure we can figure this out without you even noticing me."

Thomas sent you a pointed look, having trouble to believe your words.

"And if I bother you too much, I will just go back to my house. I'm sure I can manage just fine."

Rick made a sound of protest, the towel he held hitting your shoulder. "Y/N, you're not gonna be alone until these guys are either arrested or dead!" he told you, determined.

Sighing, you bit your cheek, giving in as you nodded slightly. "Whatever you say."

"Damn right, whatever I say."

____

Even though he was your brother - you had somewhere along the way of your friendship decided that you had to be siblings, people even mistook you as being siblings when you were younger - you could have hit him, hard.

Robins Nest was much bigger, than you had imagined.

Rick had told you multiple times about it. You knew that Thomas stayed at the guest house and that Juliet Higgins lived in the main house, but he failed to mention that it was this big.

It was intimidating, honestly.

So, when you arrived in your car - which was in no way a comparison to the ones parked up front - you needed a moment to catch your breath and slow down your racing heart.

How were you supposed to not get lost on this property?

Getting out of your car, you grabbed your bags that held the things you needed for your stay.

You just hoped you had packed enough. Who knew how long your stay would get?

Sighing, you walked towards what seemed to be the front door, ringing the bell. It took a few seconds for someone to answer, but when she did, you were sure this was not Juliet.

You somehow remembered her differently from all the pictures Rick had sent.

"Aloha, you must be Y/N." the woman greeted you, smiling warmly and you couldn't help but return the smile. "I'm Kumu. Come in, the others are already waiting."

Your brows lifted, not sure what she meant. "The others?" you questioned, following her, as she made her way through the mansion. She nodded, leading you to an open living room with windows as big as your bedroom was back in Chicago.

In said room were several people gathered: Rick, TC, Thomas, Higgins and Shammy.

Brows furrowing, you sat down your bag, gaze shifting between the people staring your way.

"Am I missing something?" you wanted to know, feeling the uneasiness creeping through you. "No, but mr. insecure told us to meet here." Thomas gave back, sending Rick a displeased look.

Clearing your throat, you noticed how your cheeks grew hot. Suddenly, you wished to be back at your place, immediately feeling unwelcome.

"I'm sorry for all this turmoil, I can just go back home and we'll forget about it." you suggested, feeling more and more uncomfortable. "No, you'll stay." Juliet spoke up, stepping towards you, holding out her hand for you to shake.

"I'm Juliet Higgins. Nice to meet you." she introduced herself, as you took her hand and shook it. "Y/N Y/L/N." you gave back, forcing yourself to smile despite the uneasy feeling inside you.

"The others are here, because Rick told us what happened." she explained, motioning at the others. "Thomas might not be happy about it, but we're not letting anyone down, no matter what happened. We want to help."

She turned more towards you, lowering her voice to a whisper. "Oh, and he'll come to terms with it, just give him a little time."

You nodded almost unnoticeable, swallowing.

"But, how are you gonna help me?" you wanted to know, fingers tugging at lose strings on your jeans. "Thomas and I are private investigators." Juliet spoke, walking towards a table to your right with a laptop placed on it.

"We will investigate in your case."

Eyes widening, you chuckled uneasily. "But, I don't have the money to hire you." you told her, biting your cheek. Suddenly, you felt ashamed, knowing that Juliet seemed to have already begun researching.

"Oh, don't worry." she told you, typing away on the laptop. "It's pro bono." Sighing, you nodded, feeling a little relieved. "Thank you." you said, looking at the others. "Thank you all, even if you don't really know me, except for Rick and Shammy."

You hat chatted with Shammy before, after Rick told you how they met him. He was a little grumpy sometimes, but he had a heart of gold.

The others nodded, even Thomas, though he still seemed grim.

____

When the others were gone and it was already dark outside, you had settled in one of the guest rooms of the main house. Juliet had the staff ready a room for you earlier, one that was bigger than your living room back in Chicago.

Robin had to have a lot of money, if one of his residences - one he barely visited himself - was this big and luxurious.

But you had read his books, knowing all about the white knight, so you understood where the money came from.

He was a genius.

The white knight had inspired you to start as a journalist, he gave you the strength when you doubted yourself - even if he was just fictional.

Swallowing, you sent the painkillers down your throat, sighing to yourself. You just hoped your stay wouldn't get any more complicated than it already was.

____

It had been two weeks, since you moved to Robin's Nest - Yes, literally moved.

You hadn't seen your house other than gathering more clothes and the mail. Other than that, you weren't allowed to leave the property of Robin's Nest.

It was hard, you had to take time off your job, explaining them the situation as best as you could, hoping they wouldn't fire you.

Meanwhile living with Thomas was... difficult.

Even though he resided in the guest house of the property, working on your case as well as on another one, you still saw him plenty of times.

Either he was plundering the wine cellar, making Higgins furious over the various missing bottles he never replaced, or he was getting himself something to eat or just lounging around whenever he had the time.

You had barely spoken to him, other than about your case or occasionally a hello or goodbye - or him complaining. You sensed his discomfort, knowing that he wasn't fond of your presence, even though you did your best not to stand in his way - literally.

The typical cliche moment of standing opposite each other, both stepping left and right to get out of the way, had occurred more than once.

You had migraine attacks almost every day, already having had to restock your painkillers.

Sighing, you shifted on the couch with your laptop on your legs, doing research. Yes, I know what you might think now, but after what happened, you couldn't just sit by and wait.

You had to at least do some research, using your skills and contacts to help.

That you came up almost empty handed, you didn't tell the others, though. They didn't even know you were doing research in the first place.

Your breathing hitched, heart pounding faster in your chest, as you suddenly felt a presence loom over you. You heard him breathe almost unnoticeable, he was quieter than normal people were.

Smelling his meanwhile familiar cologne, you relaxed slightly.

It was Thomas.

Still your hands began to sweat, heart pounding even faster.

"And here I thought we would do the investigation." he mumbled, causing you to flinch slightly at how close he really was. Taking a deep breath - of course as quiet as possible - you tried to calm yourself, as he rounded the sofa, looking down at you.

"I'm just doing some research." you defended yourself, holding his gaze, as his eyes narrowed slightly. "In case you have forgot, I am a journalist. It's my job to do research. And if I'm able to find something, even better!"

He cocked a brow at you, tilting his head mockingly. "Are you able to find something?" he wanted to know, even though he could already guess the answer.

Taking another deep breath as not to explode - your head already did that on his own - you bit your cheek, breaking eye contact after a few more seconds.

He truly had a way of getting under your skin.

"What do you want?" you tried to stir the conversation away from you, looking back at your laptop, typing away.

It took him a few seconds to answer, as his eyes roamed over you. You were looking uncomfortable, only the slightest bit, but he had a schooled eye - he knew when something was up.

"Are you okay?"

He surprised you with his question, causing your brows to furrow slightly. "I'm fine." you responded, briefly glancing up at him. "Why?"

He didn't respond, only sitting down in an armchair.

His presence made you all the more uncomfortable, his curious gaze burning holes into your skin.

He was handsome, you couldn't deny it, and yes, you would have hooked up with him, if it wasn't for his comments and him being so dismissive towards you.

Rolling your eyes, you tried to ignore him, fingers tapping on the smooth surface of your laptop, lost in thought. You had already browsed every platform you knew, coming up with nothing useful.

Biting your lip, you sighed, closing the laptop.

Your migraine was making it hard to concentrate, anyways.

"Don't you have anything to do?" you wanted to know, giving Thomas a pointed look. He only sipped his beer, shaking his head.

Only then did you notice that it was already dawn.

"What, missed the time?" he quipped, sending that pointed look right back at you. "Maybe you shouldn't waste your time doing research, when your not able to find anything, anyways."

He was hot, but his way towards you, made him colder than the antarctic.

____

Having lived at Robin's Nest for over a month now, you and Higgins became friends. You got along very well, having a lot of things in common.

Your case stretched on like chewing gum, having no hints or new findings. Thomas grew frustrated, never having had a case that went on for so long.

You hadn't got out of bed today, your current migraine attack causing you to have nausea, barely holding yourself back from vomiting.

Unfortunately, he let it out on you with witty comments and snarky remarks, causing your health to spiral further downwards.

He took every chance he got to pick on you.

You made out voices in the distance, recognizing Rick.

"Where's Y/N?" he wanted to know, his steps getting closer. "She's probably still sleeping, too exhausted from all the research she's been doing." you heard Thomas respond, their voices getting louder.

"What?" Rick gave back, shocked. "What research? I thought she wasn't working as long as the case went on?"

Someone knocked at your door and you groaned, causing the door to be ripped open, Rick barging inside. "Fuck." he breathed out, kneeling down beside you.

Swallowing, your eyes met his. You didn't need to tell him for him to know what was going on.

"Have you taken painkillers already?" he wanted to know, brows furrowing in worry. "Yes." you mumbled, sighing.

Thomas stepped further inside the room, his eyes scanning over you, taking in your distraught face and hunched figure. "What's going on?" he inquired, brows furrowing as well.

"Y/N is prone to migraine attacks." Rick started to explain, his fingers brushing through your hair absentmindedly. "When she's exposed to stress or is having a hard time it can trigger an attack. Sometimes, when the pain gets too much, she suffers from nausea and dizziness as well. She's having a migraine attack right now."

Thomas swallowed, now understanding what was going on with you. He'd been an absolute ass to you, only worsening your condition.

He felt guilty.

It wasn't that he couldn't stand you, in fact it was quiet the opposite. But after he was this way towards you in the beginning, he wasn't able to break out of it.

It had almost become a bad habit of sorts.

Rick straightened back up, motioning for Thomas to follow him as he left the room to gather a hot water bottle.

____

When you woke up, your head was doing a little better. Blinking the sleep from your eyes, you smelled herbs, causing you to frown.

"I didn't mean to wake you." you heard Thomas say. Looking up, you saw him standing at your bed, a cup in his hands. "I thought you'd like some tea, when you feel better."

Licking your dry lips, you sat up, taking the cup as he offered it to you. "Thanks?" you said, not sure how to react. "Is it poisoned?" His brows furrowed, as he huffed. "No, of course not."

Sending him a small smile, you sipped some of the hot tea. It warmed your body, spreading a nice feeling through you.

"May I?" he motioned at your bed, asking if he could sit down. You nodded, and he did. "I didn't know you were having these migraine attacks." he began, licking his bottom lip, as he looked at his hands, before his eyes met yours.

"Had I known I wouldn't have acted this way. I was a complete ass to you, which only worsened your condition - Rick told me about it. I'm sorry, that wasn't my intention."

You were taken aback by his apology, not having expected that change in behavior. "Wow." you breathed out, stunned. "I didn't expect that."

He chuckled, brushing over his chin.

"Yeah, I know." he gave back, smiling slightly. "Somehow everyone's surprised when I apologize." Rolling your eyes, you chuckled. Your head already felt a lot better.

"I've got you some vitamins as well." he explained, pointing at the package on your bedside table. "Oh, and we finally have a breakthrough in your case."

You sat up further at his words, eyes widening.

He grinned knowingly. "Yeah, we found a lead to the killers. But that's for later. What do you say we ask the cook to make somethin'?"

Your brows rose. "Who are you and what did you do with Thomas Magnum?" He chuckled, shaking his head. "Get up, I'll get us something to eat."

Huffing silently, you obeyed.

Getting out of bed you walked into the bath, as he left. The shower helped clear your mind a little, soothing your aching muscles.

When you stepped into the dining room, Higgins walked in from the other side. "Thomas!" she almost yelled in anger, her hands at her hips as she stopped in front of him.

Tilting your head, you watched them, curious about what had happened now.

"What happened to the ferrari?"

Thomas bit his lip, leaning on the table behind him, arms crossed over his chest. His gaze wandered towards you and he shrugged. "The lead I found might included them shooting at me." he explained, slightly shrinking, as Higgins inhaled sharply.

Eyes widening, you took a step forwards.

"Really, I don't know what to say." Higgins mumbled, shaking her head. "But hey, I've got her some vitamins for her migraine." Thomas added, smiling hesitantly.

"Vitamins and bulletholes." you said, shaking your head. "Sounds like an article I would write."

Even Higgins had to chuckle at that, as Thomas winked at you.

Maybe he wasn't that bad after all.

____

"Why is it always everyone but me?" Thomas grumbled, watching the dogs chase each other. Cocking a brow, you tilted your head at him. "What do you mean? They are quiet lovely, aren't they?"

He abruptly stopped, his feet kicking up some of the freshly cut grass. He looked at you in shock, spreading his arms. "No!" he gave back. "They are cruel monsters, trying to kill me every chance they get!"

You chuckled at his exasperation, turning back around towards the ocean. The view was breathtaking, really.

He huffed, following you as you started to walk further towards the beach.

Over the last two weeks you and Thomas had talked a lot, after he promised to be nice to you. He had no reason to be harsh or angry at you, he never really had.

Rick's words had shaken him out of his behavior towards you, showing him that you were more than the burden he had first expected you to be.

He had explained why you got into this situation in the first place - yes, you got into this situation when you talked back at the killers, but Rick explained why you had taken this upon yourself at all.

He explained that you fought for a better environment, Cleantecs diposal of chemical waste something you wanted to expose to the public, helping the people that had been affected by it.

The man that had been killed wanted the same.

His wife had been killed by it, her cancer having worsened due to the chemicals in the water. She didn't make it, too weak from the chemo.

You knew that feeling, your mother having died of cancer when you were still very young.

Even though you knew it was dangerous to talk to the man, you still had taken that risk, even when Rick had warned you about it. You wanted peace for him and justice for his wife.

Thomas watched you with amazement, as you walked in front of him, having created a slight distance between you, after he took a moment longer to follow you.

He had a small smile on his lips, as he noticed that he wanted to get to know you better. Even though you had talked a lot and learned a lot about each other, he still had the feeling that there was even more to you.

You turned slightly, as he caught up with you. "Are you going to continue your work as a journalist?" he wanted to know, watching you.

Biting your lip, you nodded. "Yes. Now that the case is solved and there's no target on my back anymore, I think it's time for the next one."

He snorted, his shoulder bumping yours. "I'm not gonna rescue you again." he warned you, chuckling to himself.

Higgins and him were able to solve the case, after Thomas managed to catch one of the killers red handed. You were relieved, now finally being able to sleep again.

As a bonus, you had managed to write that article, exposing Cleantech.

You stopped at a slope, looking down at the water. It was peaceful, the sun shining down on you.

Turning your head, you looked at Thomas, only to find him already looking at you. You swallowed at his intense gaze, the rest of your body turning towards him as well.

He silently stared at you, mouth slightly agape. His scent clouded your senses, heating your body up.

He leaned closer, as your heart hammered in your chest. You couldn't deny the attraction you felt towards him, and the urge to close the gap and press your lips against his, was overwhelming.

His breath fanned over your face, eyes darting to your lips, before he closed the distance, kissing you. Your hands wrapped around his neck instinctively, tugging him closer, as his hands wandered to your hips.

His lips caressed yours, tongue brushing over your bottom lip. You let it in, sighing softly.

Your lips parted, as you both had to gasp for air. His thumb brushed over your cheek, his fingers removing lose strands of hair from your face.

Breathing heavily, you smiled at him and he returned it.

"What do you say we go out for dinner?" he suggested, swallowing. He wouldn't admit it, but he was nervous. Your smile widened, nodding. "I'd love that."

His smile widened as well, sighing in relieve.

"How's your head?" he wanted to know, one of his arms wrapping around your waist, as you started to walk back to the main house. "Good." you gave back, nodding to yourself. "I haven't had an attack in over a week now."

He tugged you closer. "Good."

As you walked, you heard the dogs bark, Thomas stiffening and you chuckled.

"Damn these dogs."

[merakiui]

Hihi Mera- first time saying/asking anything to you. Your works are *chefs kiss* and they fuel my delulu about the octotrio.

But Mera, Mera, phantOM!AZUL!?!?!?!? OOOOOOOOMG MERA I CANT GET HIM OUT OF MY HEAD NOW!!! AHDBSKSUSJAKAKSBD JUST- IM ABOUT TO GO FERAL!!! BUT WHO WOULD BE RAOUL!?!?!?!?

(You can call me barista anon)

HI HIIII, BARISTA ANON!!!! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

Phantom Azul makes me so ill... 😵‍💫 he's just so fine. HIS VOICE!!!!!! Tako has such a pretty singing voice. T^T like the melody of a siren. I would let him lead me to my death uuuwaaaaa. I want to say Riddle is Raoul because childhood friends trope with Riddle is so delicious and also to keep the Azul and Riddle rivalry alive and well here on merakiui blog. But maybe childhood friend Vil......... 👀 there is potential.

I think Azul in gothic horror/romance concepts in general is so wonderful. I saw this meme recently and thought it would be so perfect for a Victorian gothic au in which you're recently widowed and mourning; you take a trip to the seaside in hopes of curing your melancholia, only to find comfort in the embrace of the coastal town's local terrors (sea monsters)!!!!!!! orz orz orz there's something about Octavinelle railing you in a nice dress that's just so *chef's kiss* to me (if I had a Madol for every time I wrote Azul fucking you in a wedding gown in his mer form, I'd have two Madols. Which isn't a lot, but it's strange it happened twice. LOL). I know what I'm about. 🫣

[dufferpuffer]

Dufferpuffer Lupin fiend… I want to know what you think: do you think Lyall knew about the Order of the Phoenix? Do you think he knew what his son got up to after graduation?

I believe he’d be very eager to support his son (financially, offering him a home), and Remus would be very eager to decline that support - but would he eventually say “it’s fine dad, I actually don’t need a job because I’ve been camping out at my rich friend’s house, which became a headquarters for a guerrilla, which I fight for full time, so don’t worry about me”?

I have a small obsession with Lyall and I am a Lyall survivalist (I believe he lived to bury his son). The reason for my obsession is because I hate the old overused children’s adventure trope of dead parents! I think it’s delicious to try to make sense of a relationship that could be very complex and problematic.

Could he have been someone like Andromeda and Ted, not an order member, but a distant supporter? Or would he disapprove completely? Or would he be completely ignorant?

it is I, the Loopy Lupin Fiend I too am a Lyall Survivalist - I wrote a little thing ages ago, just a tiny little story about Lyall walking up to accept Remus' Merlin of Honor on his behalf while being haunted by what he has said about werewolves in the past. Just a silly thing :) Maybe needs a rewrite idk, i'm no writer. I'm a yapper. I yap.

Remus is the sort of man who cuts off those he cares about most. If it weren't for the war he would have NEVER spoken to Harry, Sirius, Albus... anyone ever again. He would have fled when Tonks showed any amount of love for him. He would have fled Arthur's unwavering support and Molly's kindness despite her fears and prejudice.

He would have held their positive feelings in his heart like treasured memories and not dared ruin them with the disappointment he would surely bring. Leave them happy.

That is what I think he did to his father. He 'killed' his mother, after all. Just a sweet accepting Muggle, and she died earlier than she should - after his childhood left her thin and weak from stress. (of course he DIDN'T kill her, but the stress parents show when looking after disabled children... it hurts us. Speaking as a disabled child, it hurts a lot seeing parents suffer from being unable to help. it feels like it is our fault for being unwell, confusing and hard. Remus is the type to REALLY blame himself.)

He didn't want to put financial or social strain on his father, who already would have been a target: Specializing in the study of Boggarts and Dementors and such - the exact Dark Creatures Death Eaters use... alongside the fact he insulted Fenrir personally...

I don't think Remus told him shit. I think Remus cut contact completely, at least for the war - maybe, hesitantly, letting his dad know he was alive afterwards... But the best thing he can do for the people he loves is let them live without him - and I think he truly loves and idolizes his dad. He knows Dementors inside and out, and the first think he caught and taught at Hogwarts was Boggarts. His dads specialty.

I think Lyall would be supportive of the whispers of an 'Order of the Pheonix', a secret group maybe perhaps curated by Dumbledore. An underground illegal militia working outside the Ministry. He may have worked with the ministry himself sometimes - but he has seen their incompetence first-hand and experienced their lack of support for the most vulnerable in society.

But if he knew Remus was a part of it all he would do was worry, even if he was proud of his son... so Remus wouldn't tell him. If anything - just let him know he was safe and well (even if its a lie) and he wasn't being pulled in by Fenrir's nonsense.

I like to think he wrote to Lyall telling him he was going to work at Hogwarts. Albus hired him - he was going to be a professor!!! That every time he wrote to his dad it was good news, and Lyall treasured the fleeting contact with his son - even if he knew if he ever wrote back "Come see me sometime!!!" Remus wouldn't respond.

[solivagantingrebel]

i was curious, do you have a favorite fic premise/au/trope? for ghoap or any other pairings you enjoy? if you cant pick just one, then top three or five would work too :D - ☀️

I do! More than a few, actually. I think I love writing AUs in general, at this point I'm probably just aiming to collect most of them with my wips kfjkasjsa

In no particular order:

Childhood Friends AU - this was a discovery i made while writing the christmas fic, and goddamn, it just works in so many ways for me. it's all about the tenderness of knowing someone before they became themselves and being known in a similar fashion, with added bonus of nostalgia, yearning and reuniting later in life when you never thought it'd be possible. it's so everything to me.

Power Dynamics - 1) it's very fucking hot, and 2) the inner conflict with this is very, very rich like. the whole duty vs emotions, responsibilities vs taking care of someone you love, and admitting your feelings vs doing the 'right' thing. the whole "i shouldn't" and also "but i can't help falling for him" - which works better in fiction i'll admit but it's really fun to write!

Shifter AUs! & Supernatural AUs in general - okay this might be the monsterfucker in me talking but these have so much potential?? i'm more of a character focused writer so using the said character to embody and change the world / worldbuilding around them is soooo fun. i think i really enjoy the flexibility of doing whatever the fuck i want with the setting in aus in general but these allow me to stretch my muscles far more than other aus that require more grounded research. also + i was an animal nerd growing up and putting that obsession to use is really enjoyable. imagining your favs as various creatures is a great time.

SOULMATE AUS - god, what is there not to love about soulmate aus? the fact that the premise itself lets me wax poetry and go a lil flowery and metaphysical with the prose makes it extra fun. i do enjoy exploring the concept of love in general like - love as obsession, love as possession, love as unconditional devotion, and love as an equalizer, and soulmates have what i need for it. i like reading it a lot too, and hopefully, i will be able to write it down properly in bleeding oath. fingers crossed i'll try my best to deliver 🤞

Omegaverse - okay, okay hear me out, at first it was a kink thing. a lot of the kinks i like are in the trope, and when it's done really fucking well, it's delicious. but i've also seen a lot of writers use it to write beautiful stories and i think that's one of the things i like about fanfiction, you can do whatever the fuck you want with the aus and premises and let your creativity go wild. picking and choosing what you like from said tropes is absolutely valid and should be encouraged <3

Sorry for yapping like a mad man, but thank you for allowing me to! 10/10 question.

[consistentsquash]

2023 HP Fic Recs

HP Fics written and completed in 2023 which I read and loved. My recs are based on my reading + taste.

Snarry

OTP!

For I Have Found Salvation by @lumosatnight

Severus is a priest, and Harry is the parishioner who may just make him break his vows of celibacy.

Enough said. Hot, wrong, dirty. So totally Snarry!!! Also with a twist you don't see coming! Rated E. 7100 words. From Snarry AUctober Fest 2023 collection.

  Snake Charmer by @perverse-idyll

Sometimes all Severus had to do was turn thirty-plus years of repressed hunger upon him, and Harry would start shaking.

They are total disaster failmarriage hotness! Feel really sorry for everybody around them. Like a lot! The opening line is giving one really bad vampire in Hunger so much for me :D :D It's like a snippet/draft from WARM my beloved! <3 3200 words. Rated T.

  Devotion by @danpuff-ao3

Is there anything more undignified than needing someone so much?

26000 words. Rated E. Maximum hotness. Maximum wrongness. Maximum dirty bad delicious Snarry. This is the longest HP fic I read this year and 100% worth it!!! I am a big fan of Danni's Snarry and this fic is one of my all time fav Snarries. From Snarry-a-thon 2023 collection.

  In His Bed by @givereadersahug

Jealousy flooded Harry at their familiarity with each other's bodies. Resentment at their ease in getting each other off — the passion, the eagerness, the joy. All so different from his relationship with Severus.

Harry is super Slytherin here! Using the memories in order to learn what makes Snape tick! I really loved the dirtybadhotness of this fic! 450 words. Rated E. HP Kinktober collection.

  Coda to "Soft Touch" by @perverse-idyll

He'd thrown the bait. Would Snape catch it? Yes, he would, and throw it back.

Soft Touch is the Most ethical Massage Therapy fic ever :D Dirty, bad, hot, wrong. So it's incredible to get this really sweet and wholesome coda. You can see the undercurrents of the more complicated themes but also really sweet. 3300 words. Rated T. This is as fluffy as PI Snarry gets :D :D

  Femslash

Nymphadora, Nymphet by @thistlecatfics

Could this woman be a relative of her mother’s?

Bellatrix/Tonks, Bellatrix/Andromeda. 20200 words. Rated E. From Women of the House of Black fest 2023 collection. Really hot, dirty, wrong on literally every single level :D Obviously I love it! The femslash Lolita fic HP fandom really really needed :D

  Candles Lit Against the Dark by @perverse-idyll

Wilhelmina Grubbly-Plank/Minerva McGonagall. 13600 words. Rated G. My favorite fic of 2023. From Snapecase 2023 fest collection. Beautiful, beautiful fic which is kind of my personal epilogue for the books at this point. Lost count of rereads. It's packed with beautiful friendships, people focusing on the sweet instead of the bitter, people moving on together, people forgiving each other. It's an incredible fic with perfect execution on some classic tropes like matchmaking and friends who are going to help you whether or not you asked for it. Also some not so classic tropes like celebrating a female character's life/happiness/love being the center of a rich fic. Ultimately this is Minerva McGonagall's fic and I am so here for it.

  Once of Eden by eldritcher.

Lily/Eileen. 2000 words. Rated M. Poignant and super sharp character study of Lily. Lots of storms inside her head about her family/war/Petunia/Snape. This is right before her marriage but she has this feeling she doesn't fit into that life and she doesn't want to let go of her past. Like a lot of us, she's also seeing her past/childhood through these nostalgic glasses but at the same time she's also noticing adults in her life and has this bittersweet feeling that she's an adult now/making adult choices now. Serious Catcher in the Rye vibes. This fic has the Lily for me. Really like Harry, really Gryffindor. It's a really beautiful, sensitive, unique, powerfully human fic.

  Leather by @saintsenara

Tonks/Fleur, Tonks/Charlie, Tonks/Remus, Tonks/OFC. 2900 words. Legit character studies of bi characters are super rare in our fandom. I don't really go for self-discovery type fics but this one is whoa! Love, love, love and highly recommend this one. It's out and proud and amazing. <3 From Ladies of HP Fest Collection.

  Rare slash

Rare as in the only fic on AO3 for the pairing :D

The Ice Cream Man and the Potions Master by @squibstress

Florean Fortescue/Snape. 9000 words. Rated G. From Hoggywartyxmas 2022 fest collection. This is definitely my fav slash fic of the year <3 I feel like a lot of times especially with OTPs the preslash part is kind of assumed to happen in the background. This fic does an incredibly amazing job of setting up the preslash and it's just ultra convincing. New Snape ship dropped <3

Gen

Yeah, I read gen! Tbh I don't except when a character study fic or an author's writing style really grabs me :D

October by @ashesandhackles

Insanely amazing character studies. Rated G. The Barty Crouch Jr. character study, Disappointing Fathers, is probably my all time fav genfic with him. I came out of this super sympathetic for Barty which is something that never happened to me before. So well written and brilliantly characterized.

  Womb by eldritcher

3000 words. Rated M. Phineas Nigellus Black character study with a beautiful friendship with Snape. Dark and intense but the fic has my fav Snape resurrection of all time <3 From Snapecase 2023 fest collection.

  Birds of Paradise by eldritcher

2700 words. Rated G. Fawkes character study with a beautiful friendship with Albus Dumbledore. Really beautiful, ethereal fic. eldritcher can write non-human characters with their own "type" of emotional connect. Normally they use this superpower for writing interspecies :D But this is a beautiful gen fic. From Pandemic, my most beloved. Obviously each and every eldritcher fic has a really special place in my heart but Pandemic is just insanely generous giving something special at the right time when it was needed and it made a huge difference for me personally. Love and anarchy, always!

  The Octaves and the Circumsion of Our Lord by eldritcher

The Dark Lord is circumcised. Nobody knows how everybody knows, but everybody knows.

2300 words. Rated M. Regulus Black character study with a beautiful friendship with Kreacher. Dark and intense fic about Regulus getting radicalized but also showing how he actually buys into those beliefs. Normally I avoid Regulus fics because the characterizations just don't work for me. This is exactly how I imagine Canon Regulus.

  Al Najid by eldritcher

She has come here to make an example of this woman for the son to find. Snape should know that betrayal comes with consequences.

2800 words. Rated M. Bellatrix Black character study set just before she tortures the Longbottoms. A complicated situationship with Eileen. Dark and hot mess Black family fic.

Het

Oof. Literally zero reason to trust my hetfic recs but you got to trust me :D These fics are amazing!

Ariadne by @ashesandhackles

Surrealistic, beautiful character study of Cho. It's got Harry/Cho, Cedric/Cho for pairings but this is 100% her fic. 1100 words. Rated G.

Exploring Cho's feelings for Harry in wake of her grief for Cedric's death, with symbolism from myth of Ariadne, Theseus and the Minotaur

  Four Christmases Pomona Sprout Loved and One She Hated by @kellychambliss.

Aberforth/Pomona. 6800 words. Rated T. This fic keeps it real. I really felt her pain because when you are an adult making new friends is super hard! The BEST Aberforth Dumbledore Snarkiest!!!! <3 I am a big fan of how this author writes The Abe D! Actually I am a big fan of this author. FAVE! <3 A lot of times rarepairs can feel kind of hard to believe because the characters don't have canon time together. You are totally going to be convinced. ALSO BANTER. I love relationship progression with banter. Things get bittersweet because of the war but it's got a really beautiful earned happy ending <3 My fav het fic of the year. Best fic to end this list :D