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poppywrites41 · 4 years ago

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Captured. Eren X Reader

Relationship: Aggressive! Eren Jeager x Fem! Reader

Summary: Eren escaped his cell and left to rejoin Floch and the Jeagerists. Left shocked and confused, the remaining members the Survey Corps plan a meeting to find Eren and bring him back.

Warnings: Manga spoilers for Season 4!! Cursing and Smut in the end.

Do not read if you have not read the manga! This has nothing to do with my other fic, Why? Lmao. I just felt like this part in the manga, would be a perfect opportunity for some r u d e Eren.

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“How did he escape?!” Jean yelled, slamming his fist on the table.

“He made a hole in the wall and sealed it with his titan’s hardening,” Hange said, hands clenching in anger, “If only we had taken more precautions...if only we had restrained him more…”

“Well what happened happened,” Levi said, sipping his tea, “Mistakes were made. Now the brat is out meeting up with those psychopaths. I swear, whenever I see him I will give him the fight of his life.”

“Well now we need to make up and plan,” Armin said, looking at a map of Paradis, “We need to figure out where Eren might be as well as Zeke. We need to keep those two separated.”

“Maybe if we meet up with-” Mikasa was cut off when the doors were slammed open, revealing a seething h/c girl.

“Where. Is. Eren?” Y/N seethed. Everyone was too scared to respond. It is not often Y/N gets mad, but when she does, she’s scary. “Where is that son of a bitch?! I will kill him!!”

“Y/N calm down!!” Armin said, “We are trying to figure that out now. We cannot go around charging after people. We need to make a plan on how to best approach Eren.”

Instead of calming down, Y/N threw a chair across the room which then prompted humanities strongest soldier to tackle her to the ground. “Armin,” Levi said holding down a feral Y/N, “We need a plan by tonight. Eren will be on the move so we need to be fast. I will take this brat out and give you some peace.” Armin nodded and begun devising a plan with Hange, Mikasa, Jean and Connie.

Levi dragged Y/N to another room and threw her inside. “What the fuck Levi,” Y/N growled, “You and I both know we need to leave now to catch up to Eren.”

“Not without a plan brat.” Levi said, “Eren is too powerful and he has somewhat of an army. We need to wait. Now if you aren’t going to cooperate like a normal human being, I will have to lock you in this room for a time out.”

“You wouldn’t dare…” Y/N glared at him.

Levi smirked and pulled out some keys from his pocket, “I will always be stronger and smarter than you brat. Take some time, cool your head and I will come get you before we leave.” With that, the captain swiftly exited the room and locked the door.

…..

“LEVI FUCKING ACKERMAN YOU BITCH!!!!!!!!!!”

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It has been a couple of hours. At least, that’s what Y/N thinks. “What the fuck is taking them so long?” she mumbles as she paces the room, “We need to leave now or else we won’t be able to catch up to him.”

After pacing the room for some time, she sat down and poured some water into a glass and brought it to her lips. Even though the water was cool, it did not soothe her temper. “UGH WHY AM I STILL HERE?!” she yells and throws the cup, coincidently into the widow, making a crack in the glass.

Y/N stares at the window and looks outside. She looks down and sees the stables and weapons storage across the courtyard. “Fourth floor huh?” she mumbles to herself, “Oh Levi...You underestimate me little man.” Y/N opens the window and climbs out onto the roof. To her left, she sees a ladder descending to the ground. She makes a run for it, not realizing she ran past the window of the room where the gang were making the plan.

While Armin was talking, Levi noticed something blur past the window. He looked outside and saw Y/N running across the roof. Quickly springing into action, while catching everyone inside off-guard, he climbed out the window after Y/N.

“L/N!!” He yelled, stopping her in her tracks, “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m leaving to beat that bastard’s ass, Captain,” Y/N said, “And you will not be stopping me!”

With that, she jumped off the roof and braced herself to hit the ground. She tucked herself into a ball and rolled forward to lessen the impact of the rough earth against her fall, allowing her to get up easily and start running towards the weapons storage. She new she had a small window of time to pick her weapon before Levi hits the ground. She new he wouldn’t throw himself off the roof like her. Y/N looks at the weapons in-front of her. “I don't have enough time to put on my ODM gear….” She said. Then she noticed some ODM blades with their handles attached with some polisher next to them. “That’ll have to do.” she sighed and grabbed two, quickly wrapping them. As she was making her way to the stables, she noticed a revolver on a table. She grabbed it, stuffed it in her belt and went to her horse. When she was about to grab the saddle to put it on, She noticed Levi running across the courtyard towards her. “I guess I’m riding bareback!” She exclaimed as she jumped onto her horse, hands tight on the reigns, kicking its sides, flying out of the camp. “Let’s go!” she called to the horse as she steered it towards the open gate of Wall Maria, running full speed. The open gate was within view, however, she heard the bell tolling. Y/N whipped her head back and saw the bell tolling. “Damn you Levi!!” She howled, “Hya!! Come on boy. Let’s go!” She urged her horse faster, aiming to exit right before the gate closed. As she got closer, she saw her opening closing. “Come on! Come on!” The gate was almost closed. Y/N flattened herself to her horse back as they went underneath the lowering gate, her horse pushing itself faster. Y/N closed her eyes waiting to feel the immense pressure crush her and her steed. But it never came. She could still feel her horses muscles flexing under her as well as its heartbeat. Y/N opened her eyes and looked around her. The wall was getting smaller and smaller. She smiled, “We made it!!” she cheered, patting the horse. “Now,” she smirked looking into the woods, “Let’s go find that bastard.”

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Night had fallen, and after several hours of searching for Eren, Y/N decided to take a break. She stopped at an old village near the woods that was left alone for a while. Y/N put her horse in the stables and gave it food and water, bidding her friend goodnight.

While walking to a house that she was planning on staying in, she heard a crash. Y/N jumped behind some rubble and waited.

“Damn,” a voice said, “Why would people just leave their village without supplies?”

“I dont know man,” another voice said, “But Mr. Jaeger said that this village still had some and that we need it.”

‘Eren!’ Y/N’s eyes widened, ‘They know where he is!’

She looked out from her hiding spot and saw two men carrying sacks and throwing them onto a wagon. “Alrighty,” one of them said, “I think we are good to go.” One of them climbed in the back and the other took hold of the reigns, urging the horses pulling the wagon to move.

“I need to follow them!”

Y/N grabbed her blades and gun and ran after the wagon, making sure to keep her distance.

The place they stopped, Eren’s camp, wasn’t that far away from the village. She watched the wagon pull up next to others while some men approached it to unload the supplies. The two men got off the wagon and were taken by two soldier to a figure who faced the fire. Y/N couldn’t make it out who it was for their back was facing her.

“Where you followed?” the figure asked.

“No sir,” one of the men said, “The village was empty. Like you said, Mr. Jeager.”

‘Eren…” Y/N slowly unwrapped her ODM blades and slowly crept up on the men and Eren, using the shadows to her advantage.

“What did you find?” Eren asked.

“Grain, eggs, pork and potatoes.” the other man said proudly.

“Oh I believe you also brought me a gift.” Eren said smirking.

“A-A...gift? Sir?” they asked.

“Of course,” Eren said standing up to face them, “You both brought me a gift. You didn’t realize it?”

The men shook their heads in confusion, making Eren smirk.

“Come on out, Y/N.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. ‘How did he know I was here?!’

“Come on Y/N~” Eren said in a sing song voice, “Or else these men die.”

“Don’t kill them!” She said stepping into Eren’s vision, dropping the blades, “They didn’t know I was there!”

“Oh Y/N…” Eren sighs and snaps his fingers. Two gunshots follow and the two men’s bodies soon follow after that.

“What did they do?!” she growled.

“Nothing,” Eren said shrugging, “they were unaware of their surroundings and just plain stupid. I can’t surround myself with stupid people.”

“But they were innocent!” She cried.

“Mr. Jaeger!” some soldiers called as they ran toward them to protect him.

“It’s alright,” Eren said to his men, “She can’t do much. You all go get some rest.”

“I can’t do much?” Y/N growled, “I can’t do much?!” She pulled out her gun and aimed it at Eren, “I can fuck you up so bad you bastard!!” shooting him multiple times until her gun ran out of bullets.

Eren groaned and fell to the ground.

“Just die already,” Y/N said turning around and walking away, “We will defeat Zeke and save humanity. We trusted you, Eren. And you broke our trust. You stupid son of a bi-”

A scorching hot hand wrapped around her throat cut her off, causing her to choke.

“Are you dumb? Or did you forget that you need to slice my nape to kill me?” Eren chuckled in her ear, his breath fanning over her skin, making her get goosebumps.

“Y-You...b-bastard…” Y/N gasps, gulping for air. She tried scratching his skin with her nails, hoping for him to release her, but it wouldn’t work.

“How about we take a walk hm?” Eren said smirking, “That always used to calm you down.”

“How- d-dare you…” she growled. Eren released her throat, allowing her to gasp and gulp down the oxygen her body so desperately needed, and grabbed both of her arms, steering her deeper into the woods.

“Everyone get some rest,” Eren called out to his men, “I will return in a while.”

Once they were out of sight and hearing of his camp, Eren let go of Y/N, throwing her way from him onto the ground. Y/N grunted in pain as she stood up. “You piece of shit!” she yelled as she threw her fist towards his face. Eren sighed out of annoyance as he grabbed her by the wrist and tossed her body a few feet away from him. “Why are you here?” He asked as he walked over to her and pulled her up by her shoulder, “Where are the others?”

“Not *cough* here.”

Eren’s eyes widened with confusion, “So they don’t know where you are?”

“No,” She said as she harshly pushed him away from her, “I came here to either kill you are take you back to everyone.”

“You intend to bring me back?” He laughed, “I believe you have it wrong, sweetheart.” He grabbed Y/N by her hair and brought her face close to his and licks his lips, “It is I who have captured you.”

“Let me go you bastard!” Y/N yells as she swings her legs at him hoping to kick him off of her to allow her time to escape. But Eren is a step ahead of her. He swung his leg under her, kicking her legs out from underneath, having her land square on her back. The sudden pain sent her into a bit of a frozen shock, giving Eren enough time to straddle her legs between his and tie her hands above her head.

“Eren…” Y/N looked up at the brunette with furious eyes, “let...me...go.”

Eren smirked. He liked it when she got all riled up, it was a big turn on for him. He lowered his head to her ear and nibbled on her lobe, causing the girl to stiffen, “Sorry sweetheart,” he deep husky voice said into her ear, “I cannot pass this opportunity up. It’s not often you are rendered immobile.”

“W-What do you m-mean?” Y/N grunts as she squirms underneath him in an attempts to escape his hold and the ropes. She suddenly stopped with a sharp intake of breath when she felt something poke her thigh. Eren gave a low groan of pleasure and began to swivel his hips against Y/N’s.

“You know,” he said as he pulled her legs out from under him, spreading them open, “I have had my eye on you for a while, Y/N.”

He looked at the h/c haired girl’s face and smirked. Her eyes were looking back at him with fear. He chuckled when she flinched as he reached for the buttons on her shirt.

“Relax. I’m not gonna hurt you.” He said as he unbuttoned her shirt, revealing her sports bra (y’all rlly think girl scouts would be wearin normal bras?lol). Eren placed light kisses onto her neck as he pulled her bra up, revealing her chest.

“P-Please Eren. Don’t!” Y/N said with a shaky voice.

“Calm down,” He said as he began to knead her left breast, “It’ll feel better if you’re relaxed.”

‘Just stay quiet,’ she said to herself, ‘If I don’t react, he will get bored.’ So that’s what she did. She stayed quiet and looked up at the sky through the trees to distract herself. Only she didn’t notice that Eren had rid her of her pants. She was suddenly brought back to reality when she felt something invade her core. She gasped in pain and looked down to see Eren moving his fingers in and out of her core.

“Welcome back,” he smirked at her, “I knew what you were doing, Y/N. I let you have your little moment of peace, now it ends!” Y/N squealed when his fingers began to move faster within her, rubbing all of her sensitive spots. Her breathing became labored and her hips began to buck into Eren’s hand on their own, chasing her release. Eren stroked her walls with is fingers a few more times before removing his hand before she could, resulting in Y/N yelling in anger and frustration.

“What’s wrong sweetheart?” Eren asked, sounding like a husband worrying about his wife, “Did you need something?”

“E-Eren…” Y/N groaned as she felt her thighs rubbing against each other, trying to create friction to help her reach her high.

“Oh look!” Eren laughed, “the little slut wants to cum.” He grabbed her chin, forcing her to look into his eyes as his fingers went back to her pussy. Y/N whimpered as she felt his fingers enter her slowly, her hips moving to hurry him. “Do you want to cum?” he asks. Y/N didn’t answer and only glared at him, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of her giving in.

Eren then sighed and took his fingers out, earning a sharp exhale from the girl. He stood up and moved Y/N to stand up against a tree. He made sure to tie her legs apart so that she doesn’t move them together and retied her hands above her. “If you don’t want to cum, then I hope you don’t mind if I just leave you like this.” He smirked, “It’ll help making the need to cum go away.” He took a good look at her, but noticed that she wasn’t reacting and that pissed him off. He bent down to where his mouth was against her pussy and began to lick her clit, causing Y/N to shiver. Eren continued to lick and suck on Y/N’s pussy until she was a trembling mess. He could feel her walls tighten. “E-E-Eren!” Y/N cried as soon as Eren stepped back. “I will kill you!!” she screams.

“I will ask you again, slut,” Eren said, “Do you want to cum?”

Y/N breathing was erratic, her mind was in jumbles and she was upset. She couldn’t think straight.

“P-please…” she said in defeat, looking up at him, “let me cum…”

All of a sudden, she could no longer feel any ropes on her. Eren held her in his arms against the tree, “I can’t hold back sweetheart.” Before Y/N could comprehend his words, she felt something spread her walls so much it hurt. Eren grunted while he pushed his cock into her pussy. When he finally got himself in all the way, he felt Y/N tense up and shudder. She was a sweaty, panting mess in his arms. “Did you just cum from me putting my dick in you?” he smirked. He put her on the ground and began to move inside her. He noticed she was holding back her moans so he pinched her side, causing her to gasp. “Don’t hold back your moans,” he grunted as he thrusted into her, “No one can hear you except me.”

Y/N tried to keep it together, but all of a sudden she could feel another orgasm coming. She could not longer hide her noises. “Eren! Eren I’m close!” She moaned into his ear. Eren brought a hand down to her clit and rubbed her pearl, causing her to moan, as he pounded into her hips harder. “Ah! Eren please! Please I’m so close! Eren! I-Mmf!” Eren silenced her with his lips as he continued his assault on her pussy, Y/N greedily returning the kiss. He could feel her tightening around him, bringing him close to his high. He detached his lips from hers and placed them on her neck, giving her hickies and love bites. “Eren!” Y/N says hazily after her second orgasm, “Inside...do it inside please!!” Her arms wrapped around his neck, looking into his eye with her big sparkly e/c ones. Seeing her looking so fucked out, brought Eren over the edge. He gave one final thrust as he held Y/N close to him while he spilled everything he had into her womb.

After a few minutes of them laying together in each others arms, too tired to move, Y/N brings a hand to Eren’s face, turning his attention to her. “Eren…” she said with tears in her eyes, “Let’s go home. Please.”

Eren smiled, making Y/N think he would agree, but that smile turned into a smirk and what he said next broke her heart in a million pieces:

“Oh sweetheart, you’ve been captured. I cannot let you go.”

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Welp. There’s another Eren fic. Hope y’all enjoy! Sorry for any mistakes!

#eren yeager #eren jeager #eren x reader #eren jeager smut #eren yeager smut #aot #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #eren jeager x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren jeager x reader smut #poppywrites41

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yourfinalbow · 4 years ago

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Ack anon I'm sorry. Tumblr ate your ask and I'm 🔪 But I saved your ask to put on the Google Doc so don't fret! I have it!

“Hi Ghastie Ghast, I wanted to share a prompt with you lol. I decided to go more holiday theme’d because it’s never too early to get into the holiday spirit.

“Your favorite winter drink was back on the menu, so I decided to surprise you with it.”

Please enjoy this prompt lmao”

The nickname made me -_- but hi Little Gray Circle Dude With Sunglasses! Thank you for sending me this! I had fun writing it. I'm assuming you wanted a Destiel fic, so that's what I wrote! (Also bonus points for Saileen as a background ship?) I sort of strayed a little from the prompt and the tone gets heavier as it goes on… 👀 I also accidentally wrote more than intended, so you can read it on Ao3 if that's easier. (And maybe give it a kudos because you’re the best?)

Title: Black Coffee Derangement Syndrome

Ship(s): Dean Winchester/Castiel, Sam Winchester/Eileen Leahy.

(Basic) Tags: Fluff, Slight Angst, Domesticity in the Men of Letters Bunker, Established Dean/Cas, Established Sam/Eileen, Using black coffee as a metaphor for hypermasculinity, With a whip cream style topping of internalized homophobia. *Finger guns.*

Warnings: Coffee gatekeeping and small sections of fluff that are as sweet as Cas’s Starbucks order. Also I’ve been to Starbucks once. Maybe twice? (Also a single mention of a drug that's commonly found as white powder, the non-descriptive comparison of Sam’s stupid health stuff with emesis, and use of the name that the figurehead for Germany in WW2 bore, just to be safe.)

Rating: T? Maybe? For language?

Word Count: 9k+

Quick thanks to my awesome beta @walksinstarllight! They are a poet and a writing sorcerer (wizard without a hat), and the only reason this fic even makes sense so please go shower them in kudos. (You can find their work here.)

Another thanks to @internetintroverts, who described a peppermint mocha to me in like 300 words because I drink black coffee and know nothing of anything ever. You can find their work here! (There's an Easter egg of one of their fics in this one hehe.)

The first thing Dean did when Cas got back from the Empty was give him coffee.

Okay no.

The first thing he did was fall into Cas’s arms and grip that stupid trenchcoat until his knuckles turned white. Shaking and laughing with hot tears streaming out of his eyes, he told him he was an asshole for leaving him like that. And to never, ever do it again. With blurry eyes and all other thoughts hazy, he told Cas he could have it, he could have what he wanted. Whatever he wanted. He told Cas he loved him too.

But then the next thing was coffee.

Caffeine is a hunter’s number one best friend, and since Cas was human again, Dean knew Sam was going to come at him with his stupid green health drinks and herbal tea. As Cas’s knight in shining armour, (a title used by Dean and Dean only), it was his duty to protect him from the disgustingly liquified rabbit food.

Now he expected Cas to like black coffee, you know, like a normal person.

But no, oh no. Apparently, he was dating a heathen.

Dean had to actually rub his eyes the first time he watched Cas fix his own coffee. He stood in the doorway of the kitchen, mouth agape.

Cas was leaning on the counter, humming some song that Dean could neither recognize, nor would he approve of, thank-you-very-much.

(Ok it was Champagne Problems by Taylor Swift and it's entirely possible he's listened to it once or twice but he still doesn't approve of it, thank-you-very-much.)

He held his yellow and black striped, bee-themed ceramic mug Eileen had bought him in one hand, and the entire five-pound bag of cane sugar in the other. And there he stood, happy as can be, pouring it directly into his mug.

Dean rubbed his eyes again.

And not even like, a normal amount either.

He just kept pouring, and pouring, and Oh my god he’s still pouring. Dean thought. It would honestly be more believable if it wasn’t sugar at all, and instead was in fact Cas’s secret stash of cocaine.

Dean might actually have to put sugar on the grocery list after he was finished.

His thoughts traveled back to Ishim doing the same thing with his coffee, in the tiny little diner Cas had set up as a meeting place. Dean had barged in that day, not thinking of his brother mocking him, or the possibility of danger inside. His vision was as tunneled as his thoughts focused only on Cas, not caring about anything else.

By that time the following day, Dean thought they were both going to die. The bloody and uneven sigil on the wall, Cas no more than ten feet away. Not quite within a comforting reach. The room was spinning from the blow to his head, and he could barely make out the words being spat from Ishim’s mouth.

“You blast me away, you’ll blast away every angel in the room. I’ll survive. Castiel, on the other hand, he’s hurt. He might live, or he might just end up a bloody smear on the wall.”

He almost lost Cas that day.

The blood rushed to his ears as his instincts sought out the mark on the wall. Ishim had told him to roll the dice, but in his head he couldn’t look past the chance of rolling a one. Watching the acrylic cube bounce until it decided Cas’s fate. There was no dilemma, there wasn’t even a decision to be made. He would always choose Cas over himself. Silent acts of care he could never vocalize.

An inability to speak formed from fear and cowardice. Like a lion in his stomach scratching at the words until they fell back down his throat.

And it was that inability to speak that led Cas to think he was nothing more than a tool for the Winchester’s to use.

He almost let Cas believe he meant nothing to him.

Dean cleared his throat. “Mornin’ Sunshine.”

Cas set down the bag of sugar and picked up the pot, the glass making a small clink as it hit the top of the coffee maker. “Goodmorning Dean. Would you like any coffee?” He greeted cheerfully, turning around like he hadn't just put enough sugar to make a pound cake in his coffee.

“Uh.” Dean was still caught off-guard by Willie Wonka over there. “Sure Cas.” He took the coffee pot from his hand and muttered a thank you.

“So,” Cas started while Dean reached into the cabinet for his own mug. “What ingredient do you suggest I put in my coffee this morning?”

“Uh...I don't know man. I drink my coffee black.”

“Yes I know you’re boring Dean, but you can still help me not be.”

“Black coffee isn't boring it's-”

“Dean, if you say ‘manly,’ I will sit you down and make you eat only spinach and kale for a week.” Sam said, walking into the kitchen, hair still spiked up from sleep. He used one hand to sign the words, his other one occupied by Eileen, who was sleepily shuffling closely behind.

Dean looked aghast. “I would starve.” He attempted to sign his indignant response, hands moving sloppily while holding both his mug and the coffee pot.

“I think that's the point.” Eileen said, laughing. She looked at Cas. “Is Dean gatekeeping your coffee aspirations again?”

“Yes.” He answered, ignoring Sam’s laugh and Dean’s huff of exaggerated outrage.

“Have you tried cinnamon?” Sam suggested. “You like Dean’s apple pie, and that has cinnamon in it.”

“I’m not so sure about that, Sam. Dean told me not to ever take cooking advice from you.“

“And I stand by that.” Dean interjected suddenly.

“I can cook!”

“Ehhh…” Eileen’s comment bought her a look of betrayal. “Though Sam may be right on this one, you might like it.” She shrugged.

“See.”

Cas pondered the thought for a moment. “Perhaps I will then.”

“Do we have nutmeg?” Eileen said, breaking away from Sam’s grip to check one of the cabinets. He walked to the other side of the kitchen, intending to look through the spice rack, knowing exactly what his girlfriend was getting at.

“You better not mess up my damn kitchen.” He said quickly. “Or you're organising them all next time.”

Sam rolled his eyes, knowing full well Dean would never let him organise the kitchen. Eileen looked through them, carefully turning the bottles around until the labels faced her. She pulled out the cinnamon and clove while she was looking for the nutmeg.

“Found it.” Sam called from the other side of the kitchen, walking over and putting a hand on Eileen’s shoulder.

“Thank you.” She said with a smile, grabbing the plastic spice jars.

She individually tossed each one to Cas. “Use these, it will taste like a pumpkin spice latte.”

“And don't forget the milk.” Sam added.

Cas scrambled to catch the spices, successfully grabbing two of them out of the air, the third one intercepted by Dean.

“What’s a pumpkin spice latte?” He looked at Eileen before snatching the bottle of cinnamon from Dean.

“It's a famous drink you can get at Starbucks.” Sam answered.

Cas tilted his head to the side and squinted at him. “What's a Starbucks?”

“You know, the coffee shop Alex and Patience drag Jody to all the time.” Dean said.

“I’m pretty sure Donna drags her there too.” Sam added. “Something about girl’s date night out.”

“The one Claire says is for ‘basic bitches’?” He lifted his hands, forming air quotes as he spoke.

“Yeah.” Dean answered, quietly laughing. “That's the one. She’s probably right, too.”

Cas carefully put the different spices in his coffee, eyeing the mug warily. His light brown coffee now had specs of...stuff in it.

(And unbeknownst to him, there was also a small pile of sugar at the bottom, the coffee so saturated it wouldn't dissolve any more.)

Eileen laughed at the look on his face. “It's good, I promise.”

Sam turned to look at her. “How would you know? Most of the time you get hot chocolate and spike it with bourbon.”

“You’re the one who gets a Pink Drink.”

Dean choked on his coffee. “What?”

“It's strawberry and coconut milk, and it's delicious.”

“Sure it is Sam.” Eileen jabbed.

“So what I'm getting here is that not only have you two been to Starbucks often enough to have a regular order, but Sam gets something called a ‘Pink Drink’?”

“No…” Sam started, trying to find a way to defend them. “Sometimes we…”

“...Make our own drinks.” Eileen snapped her fingers as she finished for him, attempting to save them from the endless stream of good-natured insults Dean would throw at them otherwise.

“Well you two are a real Martha Stewart, aren't you?”

“Yeah, except she's a convicted criminal.” Sam attempted to snark back.

“So are you!”

Before either of them could respond, Cas shoved his mug into Dean's face. “You have to try this, Dean. It tastes like pumpkin pie.”

Dean carefully grabbed the hot mug from Cas and took a sip. He was right, it did taste kinda like pumpkin pie. He took another sip, letting the pleasant flavor sit on his tongue. The different spices mixed perfectly together.

“I mean it's… okay.” He lied.

Dean contemplated his pumpkin themed food options. “Though I would rather just have pumpkin pie.”

Cas took his mug back. “Fine. More for me.” He said with a smirk, mimicking the look Dean gives him every time Cas says he doesn't want anymore bacon, before taking another sip of the makeshift pumpkin spice coffee.

Dean smiled at him, setting his own mug down and moving Cas’s out of the way to pull him into a kiss. He could smell the nutmeg almost as much as he could taste the cinnamon on his lips.

“Mmm we should bake pumpkin pie tonight.” He said, pulling away just enough so he could talk.

“I would like that.” Cas answered. “All four of us could make pie. According to the 'mom blogs', as you call them, it would be a good family bonding exercise.”

“That’s right. And if they want any pie, they gotta help make it. That means more for us if they refuse.” He grinned.

“A win-win situation, really.” Cas smiled before tugging Dean close so their lips met again.

“I love you.” Dean muttered.

“I love you too.” Cas said softly.

Behind their backs Sam and Eileen were fake-gagging at their sickly sweet interaction, but secretly just glad the two of them had finally gotten over their stubborn (and oblivious) selves.

Sam was honestly overjoyed to see his brother finally happy. He would even go as far as saying finally willing to be himself, too. (Not that he would ever say this outloud. Sam can practically see Dean’s eyes roll farther back into his head than should be possible at the words.) All four of them had gone through more shit in the last few months than any normal person would in their entire life. They were all just lucky to be alive, and with that, learning how to savour the little moments of overly sweet normalcy.

(And the pumpkin spice-life Dean had secretly been longing for since they were little kids.)

So of course they were going to help bake pie.

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“I want to try Starbucks.” Cas said the next morning, both of them still in bed.

Dean groaned, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “Can I ask why, or is this one of those, 'I'll tell you later’ disasters like with the slime ingredients?”

“I want to try all the human things that I didn't get to try last time.” He said offhandedly.

Dean pictured Cas’s hurt face when he had told him he couldn’t stay, smile broken as Dean’s own heart shattered from the look the newly-human angel was giving him.

He wanted to tell him it was going to be okay, that Cas himself wasn’t the reason, but the lion in his stomach clawed the words down faster than even the thought of ruining Sam’s chances at survival could.

With a pang of guilt from the memory, Dean pulled himself closer to Cas and rested his head on the other man’s chest. He wrapped his arms around him, trying to preserve as much warmth and comfort as he could until they had to inevitably get out of bed. “Only if you let me sleep like this for thirty more minutes.”

Cas smiled. “Oh, are we making deals now?”

“I’d sell my soul for you.” Dean said cheekily, which earned a glare from Cas. “Believe me, I know.”

After a beat he went on. “Fine, you have a deal.” Before Dean could celebrate by tugging the covers over their bodies, Cas added another clause to their agreement. “But... in true Crowley fashion, you have to seal the deal with a kiss.”

Dean lazily threw his arms into the air. “Victory.”

He turned over, pulling himself upwards until he was just inches from Cas. Cradling the angel-turned-Winchester’s head in his hands, Dean placed his lips on Cas’s, melting into the touch as he felt the other man’s arms wrap around his torso.

When he broke away from the kiss, Dean found himself face to face with the most beautiful smile he had ever laid eyes on, one born from adoration and love. Cas’s eyebrows were slightly scrunched up, but for once it wasn’t a sign of confusion when met with some obscure eighties rock reference. It was a tiny expression of care, and it was one that was truly Cas. Not Jimmy’s, not even one Cas had picked up from him or Sam. It was completely and wholly Cas, and a completely and wholly human thing to do.

He realized Cas had been doing that long before the Empty stole his grace.

Dean smiled back at him, relaxed. Like taking in a deep breath after being under murky water for forty years. He brushed a loose strand of soft, brown hair into its place, before falling back into his spot and closing his eyes. “Crowley would be proud.” He whispered with a soft laugh, smile deepening as Cas joined him.

When their quiet laughter died out, there was a pause, air stagnant and in its own sleepy haze

“Oh and Dean?”

“Hm?” Dean turned his head to look at him, eyes not failing to glow with their unusually bright, green pigment. He took a deep breath, the lids of his eyes already started to slowly fall back down again.

“The slime wasn't a disaster. You enjoyed it.”

“I did.” He muttered sleepily, a loose smile forming on his lips as he drifted off to sleep. Cas laid there, running his fingers through the other man’s hair, contentment and admiration showing itself in every feature on his face.

This was more than he could have ever wanted.

---

“Dean. Dean wake up.” Cas was excitedly whisper-shouting in his ear like a kid on Christmas morning. It was exactly thirty minutes later, (he had counted), and Cas was ready to get moving.

“No.” He answered back, mimicking Cas’s tone.

“But you’re like a cat.” He teased. “You're on me and I can't get up.”

Dean sighed. “I can't believe I let you talk me into this.”

“It didn't take much convincing.”

Dean rolled over to give Cas a playful glare, but was met with the saddest puppy dog eyes he had ever seen, completely throwing him off his guard.

“I'm going to kill Sam for teaching you that.”

Cas just continued to give him that look.

“Fine.” Dean relented, sitting up with a yawn and thinking about how he will now never be able to win another argument.

“Get dressed.” Cas said excitedly. “We're going to Starbucks.”

“Hooray.” He gave a sarcastic laugh, but a smile creeped on his lips.

They walked out of their room together, heading towards the bunker’s library. Dean slid in one of the chairs, turning Sam’s still-open laptop around and waking it up.

Cas, meanwhile, turned to a random page of the lore book resting on the table and started reading in an attempt to pass the time.

The sound of Dean typing filled the air. “So, I just looked it up, and do we have to go to Starbucks?”

“Yes.” Cas said simply, not looking up from the book.

Dean groaned. “Cas there isn't one in the county, let alone Lebanon. That's probably why Sam and Eileen make their own.”

“Where's the closest one?” Cas asked, his blinding, blue eyes glaring at the back of Sam’s computer like he was trying to will the coffee shop to be near.

“I thought it was across state lines and in Nebraska at first, but it looks like there's a small one in a town called Washington. It's about 80 miles from here.”

“Let's go!” Cas excitedly straightened his trenchcoat and headed towards the door.

“Or, we could leave Starbucks to the fourteen year old girls.”

Cas turned back around and rolled his eyes. “Yes, I’m sure their entire demographic is fourteen year old girls, staff included.”

Alright, smartass. Dean thought, struggling to hide a smile.

Cas walked out the door, expecting Dean to follow.

“It takes an hour to get there, our coffee’s going to be cold by the time we get home, and it's freezing outside.” Dean muttered under his breath, but he grabbed his keys off the table and stood up, willing to follow Cas to the ends of the earth if it meant he would stay with him.

Not that he was going to enjoy this trip. In fact, he was currently doing the opposite of enjoying, and they hadn’t even gotten into the car yet. Starbucks. Starbucks. Really, Cas? Of all the places he wanted to go, it had to be Starbucks. He couldn’t want to explore humanity through Target or something?

Even Claire wouldn’t be caught dead in that place, with all the frou-frou toppings, elaborate drink mixes, and colourful, drizzled syrup. The people who go to Starbucks are the kind of people who like coffee that doesn’t taste like coffee. Teenage girls who might as well just be drinking whip cream, and that was without considering the seasonal drinks they fawn over.

Seasonal drinks that shouldn’t legally be allowed to be referred to as coffee.

Dean couldn’t believe he ever agreed to this, but still, he begrudgingly followed.

---

Using the GPS on Cas’s phone, (Dean said his insane directional skills helped out too), they found the Starbucks relatively easily once they were in the little town.

They parked the Impala, and Dean looked at the modern building. The green lettering contrasted with the tan plaster walls, spelling “Starbucks.”

He heard Cas get out, his feet making a crunching noise as they hit the gravel, and watched from across the top of the car as he started towards the coffee shop. Dean looked at the building warily, reluctance painted on his face.

Cas was telling him some random fact about a bird he saw, but Dean could only think about his reputation that was about to shatter like a vase dropping on tile floor.

Reputation with who? He didn't know.

Well, he had a vague idea, but chose not to let his thoughts wander that far.

It was okay. This was fine. He could swallow his pride and-

“Ooh. The peppermint mocha looks good.” Cas was reading the limited edition drinks on the drive-thru menu as they traveled across the parking lot.

Dean was going to barf.

They walked into the building, immediately hit with the overwhelming smell of excessive amounts of flavoured syrup indoused coffee. Dean glanced around the well-lit building, taking note of the many different people there.

(He wasn’t about to have any black-eyed minions reporting his Starbucks order to a very judgmental Queen of Hell.)

Cas pushed Dean’s protesting body into the line, looking pleased with the many different options written on the menu overhead.

He enjoyed the small touch of Cas’s hands on his back, moving him forwards to the line, but was grateful Cas was careful not to let them linger there too long.

He was still wary about doing… this, in public.

He knew Cas was patiently waiting for him to be ready, so he didn't know how to tell him that he might never be.

The teenager working the cash register interrupted his train of thought. “What will it be for ya?”

“I would like a peppermint mocha please.”

“Alrighty. And you?”

“I'll take just a black coffee.”

The barista looked unimpressed. “And your names?”

Dean grinned. “John and John.”

“No relation.” Cas added.

The barista just sighed. “How do you want me to differentiate the two of ‘em then?”

“Oh you can put ‘John Bonham’ on mine.” Dean replied.

“Comin’ right up.” Their tone didn't change, still just full of apathy that could only be perfected by the work of a burnt-out teenager.

Dean and Cas walked down to the end of the counter and towards the pickup section. “Now tell me, Castiel.” He stressed his partner’s name. “Who’s John Bonham?”

Cas sighed, but the corner of his mouth upturned in a grin. “John Henry Bohnham, affectionately referred to as ‘Bonzo’, born in 1948 and was most well known for being the drummer of the rock band ‘Led Zeppelin’.”

“Mmm very close, but unfortunately you forgot the word ‘best’ in front of ‘rock band.’” Dean smirked before leaning in for a chaste kiss.

“You should have said I was ‘John Bon Jovi.’” Cas said, smiling.

“Why? Because you’re only good at this sometimes?” Dean closed the gap between them.

As soon as their lips met, Dean pulled away instinctively, realization hitting him like a hunter with a bat as his eyes widened in terror. “I-I'm sorry, I didn’t...” His words faltered as he looked around at the people sitting in the coffee shop, all of which were paying no mind to them.

He felt sick, guilt gnawing at him from a pit in his stomach.

“Hey, it's okay Dean. You know I'm perfectly fine with public displays of affection, and no one else even saw us. There's no need to apologize.”

“Yeah-h.” He said shakily. Before he could figure out who he was apologizing to, a voice from behind the counter called.

“I have an order for a mister ‘John’ and ‘John Bonham’.”

“That's us.” Dean spat the words out quickly, turning around to take them from the barista’s hand. He rushed out of the door, the small tinkling sound of the welcome bell and the blood rushing to his ears drowning out the sound of Cas’s call from behind.

He sat in the front seat of Baby, knowing he was being childish. Dean took a shaky breath and tried not to think about it.

About what the hell he was thinking, kissing Cas out in public like that. The judgemental eyes- black or not- that were watching. He thought about what his father would say, mind instantly going back to a moment in his childhood he has tried to forget since it happened, wondering where he went wrong.

About the time John had caught him and Lee, ignoring the weak excuses Dean was stuttering out. Skipping town faster than they had done in years.

About how the left side of his face had been a yellow-ish purple for weeks following, and the sore spot on his arm from where he caught the pavement as he flew towards it.

About how he had told Sam he just fell on a hunt. “Don't worry kid, you should have seen the vamp when I was done with him.” He swung his fist around in slow motion, pretending to punch an invisible enemy as his little brother giggled in childish bliss.

About how John never looked at him the same. The disgust in his eyes, harsh words on his lips.

About how he vowed to never disappoint his father like that again, and their joint hatred for that part of him. Sometimes it felt like the only thing they could agree on.

About how somewhere, somehow, he had decided Cas was different. That he somehow didn’t count, and that losing him hurt so much, was such an egregious pain, he wanted as much of Cas as he was allowed to have. And how that was something insurmountable stronger than the twisted, sick feeling John had placed in his gut.

He remembered something Cas had told him once: “Hatred isn’t a natural trait, Dean, it’s a learned one. A baby isn’t born with the ability to hate, it’s passed on from one broken soul to another. Love, love however. That’s something different altogether.”

Cas’s hand on his shoulder pulled Dean out of his thoughts. “Hey.” He said softly.

“Hey Cas.”

“I love you.” He got in the passenger's seat, taking his coffee from Dean’s still frozen hand.

“I love you too.” He whispered absentmindedly, staring straight ahead and seeing nothing but thoughts from the past. His mind fighting an internal battle, logic telling him that what he had with Cas wasn’t wrong, and even though everything from fate to God had tried to wedge itself between them, it was still the most right thing he had. And he knew that, but his dad’s drunken, booming voice echoed throughout his head, telling him that he was dirty. Telling him the Winchester men had no place for someone like him.

“You better stop that now, boy. Bad things happen to you when you’re weak.”

At the time he had taken that as a warning, rather than a threat. But now Dean wasn’t so sure.

It’s not even that his Dad was particularly religious. He wasn’t told that it was a sin, or that he was going to Hell. Though it’s not like that particular statement would have been wrong. He thought with a bitter laugh.

While the thoughts in his head were screaming mercilessly, the drive home was in a simple silence. The only noise being Cas’s occasional sip, and the sound of soft fabric rubbing against skin as Cas moved his hand in small, comforting motions against Dean's back.

When they got to the bunker, Cas, who was genuinely impressed that Dean managed to drive them home without crashing into a tree, pulled Dean out of the car and gently shook him out of his self-imposed stupor.

“Your coffee's cold.” Cas said with a laugh.

Dean blinked a couple times, clearing the fog from his mind, before laughing along with him. “And who’s fault is that? You were the one who insisted on traveling across the state to get it.”

“Do you want some of mine?” Cas asked. “There's a little bit left, and I held it next to the heater. It should still be lukewarm.”

“No thanks, Cas. I can go make some in the kitchen.”

“But what if I want you to try it?” Dean glared at him. “Don't make me do Sam’s ‘puppy dog eyes’ again.”

“Okay, okay. You win.” He put his hands up, mimicking a surrender. “I'll try some of your stupid, Christmas cookie, candy-cane flavoured coffee thing or whatever.” They started walking towards the entrance to the bunker.

“Peppermint mocha?”

“That's the one.”

Cas laughed at him.

“Oh just, give it here.” Dean said. He took a long sip from the disposable cup. He could taste a vague hint of whipped cream mixed in with the coffee, its light fluffy texture sticking to the last swallow of smooth liquid in the bottom of the cup. The chocolate and espresso rested on his tongue, and the peppermint was strong and refreshing. He took another sip.

“Does that face mean you like it?”

Dean looked at him guiltily. “No.” He opened the bunker’s door and started walking down the metal stairs.

“Yes you do.”

“No, I don't.”

“You took a second sip.”

Dean reached the bottom of the stairs first, and walked over to the War Room table to set both coffee cups and his keys down.

“So? I was trying to make sure I properly understood the flavour. Since when is that a crime?”

“You wanted to properly understand a flavour you didn't like?” Cas walked up to Dean and pulled the nearest chair out to sit down.

“What are you two arguing about this time?” Eileen asked from the library.

Cas clenched both of his hands into fists, putting the right one on top of the other. He made small, circular, stirring motions with his right hand. “Coffee.” He signed swiftly, movements fluid.

“Ah. That makes sense.” She spoke the words.

“What makes sense?” Sam asked, walking in from one of the hallways, making sure Eileen could see his lips before speaking.

“They're arguing over coffee again.”

Sam glanced at both of them, before his eyes reached the two cups on the War Room table.

“Wait a second… Dean?” He looked at his brother, before turning to face his best friend. “Cas?”

“Yes, Sam?” Cas answered.

“Did you two go to Starbucks?”

“I don't want to talk about it.” Dean grumbled.

“Yes, we did!” Cas sounded way too excited to be referring to coffee. “I got a peppermint mocha, and Dean tried some and liked it.”

“I did not.”

“I don't care what coffee you like, Dean. What I do care about is that you went all the way to Starbucks, and didn't bother to ask if we wanted to come.”

“Not cool Dean.” Eileen walked in, shaking her head and hiding a smile.

“I might have thought about buying you two drinks, but there was no way I was ordering yours with a straight face.” He looked at Sam. “And it's an hour away, they wouldn't have been hot or cold or whatever they're supposed to be by the time we got here.”

“Well then we'll just have to go back, all four of us.” Eileen put simply.

“It's an hour away.”

“We know.” Sam added.

“Let me say that again, in case you weren’t listening. It's an hour away. For coffee. That isn't even that good.”

“I beg to differ, Dean.” Cas said.

“Yeah I'm definitely with Cas on this one.” Eileen agreed while Sam nodded along.

“No. There's no way I'm getting back in Baby to drive all the way to Starbucks again.”

“Fine. We’ll go get our own.”

“With what car?” Dean said, very sure of himself.

Sam snatched Baby’s keys off the war room table, which in hindsight was probably something Dean should have expected.

“Let's hope Sam doesn't have too many shots of espresso.” Eileen said, faking concern. “I would hate for your baby to pay the price.”

“Fine. I'll drive you.” Dean grumbled while Eileen double fist-pumped her win.

Cas looked very pleased with the thought of getting to try more coffee.

---

They left shortly after, the drive over painful for everyone except Dean, who listened to the same four songs on repeat the entire hour.

(It’s their own fault, really.)

---

“Can we please listen to something other than Bob Seger on the trip home?” Sam complained as he slammed shut the door to Baby’s backseat.

“You’re just mad you didn’t get shotgun.” Dean said, closing his own door. “Besides, driver picks the music, everyone else shuts their cakehole.” Sam mouthed the words along with Dean, having heard the speech a million times before.

Eileen and Cas got out, neither one of them had any desire to input on their squabble, and were instead engaged in their own, quieter discussion.

Both brothers continued to argue until they walked into the Starbucks.

“Ah. There's the scent of overpriced coffee I missed.” Eileen joked as she took her first breath inside the building, using her hand to waft the smell towards her.

“What are you getting?” Cas asked Sam.

“I want my usual, and Eileen, what are you having?”

“Hot chocolate with espresso shots please. This place doesn't sell liquor.” She shook her head sadly and Sam laughed. “Good thing I brought my own.” She winked at them, opening her jacket just enough so they could see the inside pocket and showing off her flask.

“Oh, now that would be a Starbucks I would go to.” Dean said.

“You two wait in line.” Sam pointed to Cas and Dean. “We’ll save a table.”

Dean looked like he wanted to protest, but they walked away before he had the chance. Cas leaned over towards him. “Don't worry. I'll order Sam’s.” He very conspicuously winked.

Dean smiled at his attempts of regular human interaction, before over-the-top winking himself.

“Can you order for us? I need to talk to Sam about something.”

“Sure thing…” Cas had to think before finishing his sentence. “...buckaroo.”

Dean outwardly cringed. “Keep trying, you'll get there eventually.” He patted Cas on the back, which was slightly moving in a chuckle.

It was good to see Cas filled with so much simple joy. Face creased from laughter rather than stress, he seemed so much lighter. Happier. It was only a small sliver of what he deserved, but it was something. Maybe he could live with driving an hour to get what he assumed was half-decent coffee.

“What would you like?” Cas asked him, eyes still filled with a sparkle that only comes from gaining something you thought you lost.

“Uh.” He thought about it for a moment, almost considering branching out into the unexplored terrain that was the dark green menu with small, white text, before shuddering at the thought.

“I think I'll take that expensive black coffee I didn't get earlier.”

Dean was not going to turn into one of those people, if he had any say about it.

Cas walked into the line, leaving Dean to scan the room, furiously waving Sam over when his eyes found their booth.

“Sam.” He sounded like he was trying to whisper, but his volume raised far higher than that. The patron closest to Dean gave him a look before turning back to their work.

“Sam, come here, it's urgent.” His brother turned to look at him, rolling his eyes before getting out of the booth.

“What do you want?” He said once he reached Dean.

“Sam. Help. What do I do?”

“About what?”

“About what kind of coffee Cas is having.”

“Oh god, Dean let it go. He's not going to only ever drink black coffee. Contrary to popular belief, former angels do actually have souls.”

Dean ignored the implications that he didn't have a soul, too distracted by Cas. “But look.” He motioned his head towards where Cas was standing, next in line to order. “He’s eyeing the weird fruity drinks.”

“Dean. It's Cas. The man’s favorite food is PB&J. What did you expect him to have, taste?”

“Alright that's rich coming from mister Pinkity Drinkity or whatever the fuck.”

“You walked into a Starbucks and ordered black coffee, I don't think I'm the wrong one here.”

“Wait, wait. Shut up. Quiet.” He hit Sam on the shoulder in a childish attempt at getting him to stop talking so he could listen.

“Ow. That hurt.” Sam muttered, before turning to watch Cas, which Dean was already doing.

“I would like to try a…” Cas methodically scanned the menu again. “A ‘Passion Tango Iced Tea,’ please.” The barista took no mind to the excessive air quotes.

“It's not even coffee.” Dean said to Sam, clearly distraught. He turned to look back at Cas.

“And your name sir?”

“Lizzo.”

Dean threw his arms up into the air. “I can't believe this is the man I love.” His voice cracked like he was holding in tears of anguish from listening to Cas order.

Sam just rolled his eyes at the theatrics. Right, and he’s the dramatic one.

“Aw. You're in love.” Sam held his hands up, forming a heart and mocking his brother.

“Oh shut up. What are you, seven?”

“Is Cas your gay thing?”

“You shut your mo-”

“What are we gossiping about?” Eileen whispered, cutting Dean off and causing them both to jump.

“We're not gossiping.” Sam said indignantly.

“Sam started it.”

“Jerk.”

“Bitch.”

“This is where I call you two ‘asshats’, right?”

“It's ‘assbutt.’” Cas said, walking up to them and catching the tail end of their conversation. “And that's my line.”

Cas handed them each their drinks, before excitedly trying his own. He put the plastic cup up to his mouth, almost missing the straw. When he swallowed the cranberry-colored liquid, his face relaxed in pleasure.

“I know this one isn't coffee, but it's really good.”

“We didn't get coffee either.” Eileen said. “So don't worry, Dean's the odd man out here.”

Dean glared at her before trying his own coffee, and well, it was coffee. The point of buying expensive caffeine still went straight over his head.

The four of them went over to their thankfully-still-available booth and sat down. Dean and Cas sat on one side, both instinctively choosing the side that faced the door, with Sam and Eileen sliding into the seats directly across from them. They sat there, talking about nothing in particular, and certainly nothing of importance, before falling into the natural art of storytelling.

Aside from killing monsters, that’s what hunters did best. Sitting around and sharing stories. As tiring and dangerous as their lives were, some hunts were worth sharing exaggerated and hyperbolic versions of, especially over drinks.

Sam’s favourite story to tell changed every time, and one would almost be inclined to believe that most of it wasn't real, but the wildest parts also caused the most merriment. (Dean pretended he hadn’t witnessed the whole thing, sparing Sam by not telling the other two how it actually went down.)

Eileen shared of her time in Ireland. “Foreign country, foreign monsters.” She said with a wink, telling of creatures neither Sam nor Dean had even read about.

Dean’s favourite story to tell, aside from the fact that he killed Hitler, was the time he got to solve a mystery with everyone’s favorite talking dog. And yeah, all three of the people that sat at the table had heard both many times before, but that didn't matter, it was still enrapturing to hear them again.

Cas had millenniums to choose from, but always found the most interesting hunts to be the ones with the Winchesters. He also had many hilarious stories about his adventures with Crowley, but he was less fond of those.

“I remember once, Dean went on a hunt with Dad.” Sam started. “Nasty vampire, it got a hit or two on Dean. I think you guys went with another hunter. Young. About your age, actually. Uh…”

He snapped his fingers, trying to recall the name. “Lee. That's it.” Dean looked up from the coffee right as Sam said it. “Do you remember him?”

Something flashed in Dean’s eyes, but his brother didn't seem to notice.

Cas, who was used to admiring every minute detail of Dean's expression and posture, didn't miss the ever so slight, yet sharp, inhale. Or the way he swallowed before speaking, trying to clear the small lump from his throat.

Dean noticed too, internally rolling his eyes at his own reaction.

“Yeah it's been a while, but I remember him.” Dean was blatantly ignoring Cas’s burning stare from beside him, and the fact that he had stabbed Lee through the chest just last year.

Cas made sure no one was watching before gently placing a hand on Dean’s thigh. Knowing it would comfort him from both intuition and experience. Dean stiffened under the touch, but after realizing no one could see where Cas’s hand was, he visibly relaxed.

“What happened to him?” Eileen asked innocently.

“Oh uh, a hunt I think. Most of us go that way, I assume he was no different.” Technically Dean dealt the final blow, but it was the entrancing call of the monster, greed, and the life Lee and Dean had both secretly wanted, that caused his former-friend’s downfall in the end.

“Yeah.” Sam said solemnly, suddenly lost in his own thoughts, most of which were riddled with grief.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, letting the weight of their many losses wash over them like a tidal wave.

One made of espresso and milk rather than the rough waters of the sea.

---

The ride back was more manageable, Dean allowing them one song choice each, complete with a warning to pick wisely.

(They all very cheekily chose the songs they knew would bother Dean the most.)

---

Full on coffee, cookies Dean bought for them at Starbucks, and brimming with contentment, (as well as the fact that they spent half the day in the car), Cas suggested to Dean that they “hit the hay” as they stepped back into the bunker.

They laid there in silence, breathing in scents of comfort, coffee, and each other, until Cas eventually drifted off to sleep.

Dean, however, continued to lay there. Thinking.

He remembered the first solo case John sent him on.

Something curled inside his gut.

They had been two nuns, their fate a product of hate crime. Put to death for simply being themselves.

Dean didn't blame them for coming back as ghosts.

He remembered the words - ones he would soon learn were slurs - that John would spit out like acid.

Or offhandedly toss like they didn't bear enough weight to shatter the window of a person's self-image.

It had taken him almost forty years to realize that very same window inside of him was in sharp, jagged pieces. Cutting anyone and everyone who came near.

It had taken Cas dying to start picking them up again.

He turned to look at the man next to him, relaxed and blissfully sleeping. His chest moved up and down rhythmically, and Dean slowed his breath to match until he fell into a surprisingly peaceful slumber.

---

When Dean woke up, the other side of his bed was cold.

He didn't panic, knowing full well that Cas probably ran to the bathroom, or was pouring another mountain of sugar in his coffee.

Losing Cas again to the Empty had ripped him apart, but months of spending every night with his partner left him with less nightmares and waking in cold sweats then he had since before Hell.

Dean also learned that his own presence was enough to fight off the demons of solid, black goo that plagued Cas’s head at night.

He was finally starting to understand why life seemed to lose all meaning when Cas was gone, and from there he could slowly start to rebuild both of them.

Dean heard soft padding noises as socked feet walked down the hall, and there was a knock on the bedroom door. "S'your room too, Cas. You don't have to knock." He laughed, words slightly slurred from just waking up

Cas walked in, wielding two mugs of coffee and a proud look shining in his eyes. “I made us coffee.” He said triumphantly, handing one of the mugs to Dean.

“I put chocolate and peppermint in your coffee.”

Dean fake-gasped. “You monster. Ruining the integrity of my drink like that.”

“I'm a human, you ass.” Cas responded, a smile tugging at his lips. “Besides, I know you liked mine yesterday.”

“I did not.” He said, discontentedly crossing his arms. “I only drink coffee that's as black as my soul. Darker than the night sky. Hotter than the bunker’s computer when it overheats. As manly as-”

“Oh, just drink your damn coffee.”

“Fine.” He groused. “But I'm not enjoying it.”

Cas raised an eyebrow at him, before setting his mug on the bedside table and sitting down behind Dean. The bed creaked underneath him as he leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Dean’s waist. “Is this why you and Sam never use umbrellas?” He joked.

Dean laughed.

Cas rested his head on the crook of Dean’s neck and whispered. “You know you don't have to pretend.”

“Pretend what?” Dean asked softly.

“You know.”

“That I don’t like flavoured coffee?” He said with a snort.

“Sort of.” Cas hugged him tighter. “No one’s going to think any less of you Dean. You’re allowed to like the things you like.”

“I know.” He resigned.

“John isn't here anymore.”

“I know.”

“I love you.”

“I know.” The words barely came out as a whisper, hot tears betraying Dean’s eyes as they silently leaked out and ran down his cheeks.

He tried to wipe the tears away, hearing his Dad’s voice in his head and knowing he was being stupid.

Dean couldn't help but think of himself as a small, living-room window, from an old, dilapidated house. Stained yellow with age. Cracking from wear.

He let the drumming of his Dad’s words in his head be drowned out by Cas’s voice.

He couldn't unwrap the fuzz from around him, so he didn't know what Cas was saying, ears seemingly filled with cotton. It was just the knowledge alone that he was there. That he was holding him and whispering comforting words into his ear. That even as a human he could heal Dean at his lowest points, and still see him as the brightest, strongest, soul.

You don't really know what a picture is going to be until it's done.

Maybe that window is a beautiful stained-glass portrait.

“Uh.” Dean cleared his throat. “What-what do you have?” He indicated Cas’s coffee by angling his head towards where it sat on the nightstand.

“I made iced coffee.”

Dean just looked at him, astounded, eyes widening. “You mean it’s not hot?”

“Yes, that's where the ‘iced’ in ‘iced coffee’ comes from.” He said very seriously.

They both sat in silence for the next hour, peacefully drinking their coffee and enjoying the presence of one another.

---

When they got out of bed and ventured into the rest of the bunker, they found Sam and Eileen in the library.

They were sitting in adjacent chairs, with Eileen laying her head on Sam’s shoulder and reaching for her water bottle on the table. They were reading a book together, but Eileen shook Sam indicating she had seen them walk in.

“Goodmorning.” She greeted cheerfully.

“Mornin’.” Dean pulled up a chair across from them, and watched as Cas did the same.

“What are you two reading?” Cas asked.

“The Men of Letters’s Bestiary.” Sam said.

Dean snorted. “Ah. Doing a little light reading are we?”

“We're thinking about filling in some of the pages.” Eileen added.

“Yeah, for all of the stuff they have here, it's surprisingly empty.” Sam continued flipping through some of the pages, most of which were blank.

“Heh. I should put you in that thing, Cas.”

Cas let out a laugh. “Right. Because I’m a good example of an angel.” The sarcasm was masking something else in his voice.

“If it makes you feel any better, you’ve always been my favourite angel.” Dean only realised how sappy he sounded after it came out of his mouth.

“Yeah, I’ve heard the rest of them are dicks.” Eileen added.

Cas smiled at that, seemingly back to normal.

“Right, well you three can do that, I'm off to the Dean Cave.”

“Or…” Sam started.

“We could go back to Starbucks.” Cas finished, nodding his head enthusiastically.

“Yeah... that's not where I was going with that, but I like where your head’s at, Cas. We should definitely go back.”

“Eileen?” He asked.

“Hell yeah.”

“Dean?”

Dean pressed his mouth into a thin line and glared at him. “Yes, sure, fine. But we're not making this a daily thing.”

“That's fair.” Cas agreed. “It's probably not very healthy.”

He went to grab his wallet and keys before Sam could start his speech on the nutritional value of green things, and Eileen snatched her water bottle off the library table as they all got up to leave.

---

Dean gave up on letting them choose the music after snickering and requesting “Friday” by Rebecca Black for the third time in a row.

(It wasn't even Friday?)

---

Dean stepped out and closed Baby’s door in the parking lot of Starbucks an hour later, kicking the loose pieces of gravel on the asphalt for the third time in two days.

“We might as well just live here.” He said, tone dripping with sarcasm.

“I wouldn't make that offer if I were you, Cas looks like he’d be totally on board.” Sam laughed.

Cas went and stood beside Dean as they started walking towards the building, smiling.

“What?” Dean asked, question genuine and free of all malice.

“Nothing.” Cas answered, smile not faltering.

His eyes revealed nothing but pure devotion for the man he was staring at. A silent promise, one without pressure, that he would be standing there, and Dean could take the leap anytime he wanted.

Dean was slowly inching towards the end of the diving board.

---

“I think I'll just drink my water.”

“Oh that's exciting.” Sam joked. “If I got you a lemon to go with it, would you be able to handle that?”

“Don't talk to me about my drink, when yours is a vivid green puke colour.”

“Hey, at least it actually has a colour. And a flavour at that.”

Dean couldn’t believe those words were coming from the same man who drinks exactly a hundred and one ounces of water a day. (Which, according to Sam, is the recommended amount for males, as stated by the Institute of Medicine.)

(Dean didn’t care.)

“Fine then.” She turned to look at Dean. “Get me the strongest thing on the menu.”

Dean laughed before turning to Cas. “Let's just go get in line before we suffer at the hands of the Leahy like Sam.”

Sam and Eileen went to look for a place where they could all sit again, playfully bickering the entire way.

While he was standing in line with Cas, Dean looked over at his brother, and found him and Eileen sitting at a small table in the corner.

Cas was still helping him learn ASL, so he caught parts of their conversation.

“If Jack is in every drop of rain, do you think he's in your water?” Sam signed, trying to contain his laughter.

Eileen pushed her water away with a look of disgust. “You’re lucky I love you.” She answered back.

“I know I am.”

He watched her silently laugh before turning back to look at Cas.

They really did have it good, didn't they?

“What are you ordering, Dean?”

Dean stood there silently, contemplating. He internally weighed his pros and cons, mind leaving the menu entirely. While there was still a lot of shit he had to work through, (shit he had been actively not working out his entire life), there wasn’t much of a decision to be made.

He would always choose Cas.

“You know what?” He reached out and grasped Cas’s hand firmly. “I was thinking about being less boring. What ingredients do you suggest I try?”

Cas smiled warmly, reaching the crinkled corners of his eyes. “They have a cinnamon flavoured one. That’ll be almost like apple pie.”

“Will it really?” Dean’s tone was dismissive, but there was a smile on his face.

“Yes, Sam told me.“

“Not that I trust Sam’s judgment, but okay, I think I’ll take one of those.”

“I'm going to have a real pumpkin spice latte this time.” Cas seemed very pleased with the aspect of buying something they could make it home, but Dean wasn't going to fault him for it.

The patron in front of them finished ordering, clearing the way for Cas and Dean. The barista from the first time they went caught sight of them and made a face. “Wait a minute. I think I know you two.”

“Yes, we came here yesterday.” Cas helped. “Well, we actually visited twice, but you weren't working the second time.”

“Right... John and John, how could I forget?”

“This time we're ordering for four though.”

“I would like a…” Dean squinted at the menu, looking for the cinnamon flavoured coffee. “‘Cinnamon Dolce Latte.’ And my devilishly handsome friend here will take the pumpkin spice version.”

“And what are the other two drinks and names?”

Dean whispered something in Cas’s ear. “I'll drink the coffee, but I won't budge on this one.”

“That's okay Dean, you’ll get there eventually.” He whispered back.

The barista looked unimpressed with them. Again.

Dean cleared his throat. “Ahem, sorry. The tall one with the stupidly long hair,” he pointed towards Sam, “is getting…” he trailed off before looking to Cas for help.

“I don't know, man. It was something sickly looking. Cold? Green? Possibly tea?”

“And Iced Green Tea Latte?” The barista suggested.

“That's the one. His name is Jimmy.”

“And the lovely lady sitting next to him would like the strongest drink you have. Her name is Robert.”

“Her name is Robert…?” He slowly pointed towards Eileen, sounding unsure of himself.

Or them.

“Yup.” Cas said.

Eileen gave a little wave from across the room.

He gritted his teeth in a very clearly fake smile. “Coming right up.”

They paid for their coffee and picked it up, taking the travel cups across the room and towards Sam and Eileen.

Cas took a sip from his pumpkin spice latte, gleefully smiling. “As much as I like trying different drinks, I think I might start just getting this one. It's my favourite.”

Sam leaned over to Dean, neither one taking their eyes off of Cas. “Should we tell him the drink is seasonal?” He glanced at Sam, before staring back at his partner, whose face was beaming like a literal ray of sunshine.

Dean’s face softened. “Nah. Let’s not ruin his moment.” He took a sip of his cinnamon coffee and damn, it was delicious.

Nothing at all like apple pie, but still delicious.

Cas walked over to him, making eye contact in a silent question. Dean nodded with a small smile, and Cas took his hand.

“I love you.” Cas whispered.

“I love you too.” He whispered back.

They didn’t whisper to hide, and it wasn't because he was ashamed. It was because that exchange was just for them.

Dean leaned in and softly kissed Cas.

Now that was to tell everyone in the shop that his devilishly handsome friend was spoken for.

Slowly, the sun would come out and shine through the stained-glass window, shadow portraying the picture of an angel.

And alright, fine, Dean could admit that he enjoyed the peppermint mocha.

He thought about it for a moment, before giving a light chuckle, realising something.

“What?” Cas asked, turning to look at him with a soft smile resting on his face.

“Nothing.” Dean whispered, squeezing Cas’s hand in his. He took a sip from his coffee, relishing in the warm and cozy flavour enrapturing his tongue.

He was only thinking that maybe, just maybe,

Cas had changed him too.

---

Bonus Epilogue:

Dean held the glass door open for the other three, and they all walked out onto the asphalt, laughing, and making their way towards Baby.

The street lamp overhead flickered, and all four of them froze.

“Did anyone happen to get the salted caramel macchiato?” Dean whispered.

---

-This fic on Ao3 (Kudos and comments would be greatly appreciated.)

-Writing Tag

-Ao3

-Request fics/drabbles/ficlets. (Please)

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mysmesomefluff · 4 years ago

Text

Believe Again: Chapter 33 (Preview)

Three years later

When Saeran left the apartment this morning, it was clean, pristine and neat. He had left everything in order, having been the last one on cleaning duty over the weekend.

But now… eight hours later, he had returned… only to find that the apartment now looked like it had been completely and utterly ravaged. There was a (thankfully) wrapped diaper lying abandoned in a corner, splotches of milk powder on the floor, and little white footprints mixed with big ones trailing into the hallway. The couch looked like someone had been using it as a trampoline, pillows and cushions had been left on the floor, children’s books and toys were scattered everywhere like leaves in fall, and the dining table was a mess of food stains, some of which looked suspiciously like vomit.

Saeran had come home early, skipping out on dinner with his friends at college because MC wanted him home for dinner today. But he was starting to regret his decision when he surveyed the apartment, a grimace forming on his features when he realized he would almost certainly be dragged into cleaning everything up together with his stupid brother. Said man had one simple job today: to babysit his three-year-old child, while MC went out to do some grocery shopping.

And as expected, he had failed spectacularly at it.

The wind slammed the door shut loudly before Saeran could grab the handle. Not thinking much of it, Saeran shrugged and entered, but was promptly startled by a wail—one that belonged not to his niece, but to his brother.

Saeran sighed, carefully tip-toeing his way past the minefield of dirt to avoid getting his socks dirty. He managed past the living room and was about to approach the hallway that looked equally disastrous, when he heard an adorable, heart-stopping voice.

“Ran? Un-ko?”

Saeran froze in his tracks, wavering slightly as he almost lost his balance in the awkward position he was standing in, with one foot directly in front of the other. He was this close to stepping on a puddle of water, and he refused to get his socks wet.

The voice was followed by the sound of little feet running across the floor, like the soft pitter-patter of rain. Saeran’s eyes darted to the source of the noise, and there he found his little niece, with her wild bedhead and rubbing her big, yellow eyes. It was the most adorable thing to watch—the moment she noticed him, he watched as the sleepiness in her features evaporated in a flash, her lips parting into the brightest beam he had ever seen.

And then she was running towards him, releasing a high-pitched squeal as she went as if she were a train.

Saeran didn’t even have time to register his foot stepping into the water when she practically slammed her face against his calf, her little arms wrapping tightly around his leg like a koala to a tree.

“Unko Ran!” she cried happily, and Saeran didn’t even realise he was smiling until he noticed the slight ache in his cheeks. He bent down and scooped her into his arms easily, listening to the sound of her laugh echoing off the walls.

“Were you a good girl today, Eun-byeol?”

“Yes!” she nodded enthusiastically, cheeks turning a rosy pink as she held his cheek with one tiny hand. “Play, play!”

“I was just about to put her to sleep…” Another voice emerged, and Saeran craned his neck to see his brother slinking out of the bedroom, looking like Death itself. His hair was a complete mess, and he had what looked like marker stains on his arms and face—he must have let her use him as paper again.

It took a moment for Saeran to realise what had probably happened, his mind going back to the loud sound that the door created when it slammed shut earlier.

“Sorry, I didn’t catch the door handle in time. The wind was too strong.”

Saeyoung merely sighed, but it seemed more exhausted than anything else. Saeran could only guess at what on earth happened in this house today. No doubt, his niece must have been a handful—she had inherited her mischievousness from Saeyoung and her stubbornness from MC. And that made for one very difficult and out-of-control kid.

Saeran remembered Saeyoung retelling how Vanderwood had laughed when he first begged him to help babysit, saying something about how “karma’s a bitch” before hanging up on him altogether.

As terrible as it sounded, Saeran couldn’t help but agree.

The most peculiar thing was that for some reason, his niece had taken an exceptional liking to him, attached to him at the hip and always wanting to play with him. It didn’t help that “Un-ko” were her first words, instead of “Mama” or “Papa”. That had upset MC and Saeyoung both so much that Saeran almost felt guilty for playing with Eun-byeol whenever she so asked.

But it wasn’t like he could refuse her, not when she was so cute. She had big, round yellow eyes, fat cheeks that he loved to poke and pinch, long, wavy red hair that made her look like an angel, and her voice was adorable too. Especially when she called his name. Like she was doing now.

“Yes, yes, I’m here,” he chuckled, patting her on the head.

“She was asking about you all day, you know. Ever since we told her that you were staying for dinner today. She even refused to take her nap until you were back.”

“You were?” Saeran asked, turning his attention back to his niece, who was beaming at him proudly once again, as if she had achieved something huge. Well, he supposed, to a three-year-old, staying up past naptime was a huge feat in itself.

“Play, Unko Ran!”

“But you need to nap first.”

His answer didn’t please the three-year-old. Her lips dropped into a pout, and she shook her head. “No, play play!”

“We’ll play after you nap,” he told her firmly, already walking back to the bedroom where she had emerged from. She started to struggle, and he had to tighten his hold around her lest she fell out of his grasp.

“No! No!”

“If you’re good, I’ll let you crack the eggs later.”

That was the most effective bribe he had up his sleeve. Saeran smiled to himself when he watched her pause thoughtfully, mentally calculating the pros and cons of his suggestion. She had been obsessed with cracking eggs ever since they made pancakes together in the kitchen, of course while she was seated safely in her high-chair and watched Saeran do all the work. She had pleaded and begged for him to let her try cracking the eggs but he hadn’t allowed it. It took a while to placate her by giving her a slice of lemon to play with instead.

“Okay…”

She was rewarded with a peck on the forehead. “That’s my girl.”

It didn’t take long for him to put her to sleep—since she had been staying up past her naptime she was already exhausted. Within five minutes she was out cold, although it took another minute for him to carefully wrestle his index finger out from her grasp without waking her.

When Saeran left the room, he was greeted by the sight of Saeyoung wiping the floor with a wet cloth. He took a moment to watch his brother do the work, sighing as he went and looking thoroughly drained.

Parenthood was certainly taking its toll on this inexperienced father who couldn’t do anything without his wife.

In an uncommon show of sympathy, Saeran stepped forward, snatched the rag from his brother, who then looked at him, confused.

“Go sleep. You look horrible,” was all he said, before he took over and started wiping the same spot that his brother had earlier.

Saeran hated cleaning already, and his stupid brother just had to make it worse by squealing his name and throwing his arms around him in a hug. It took two kicks before Saeyoung finally let go, rubbing at the sore spots on his thigh but still wearing the silly, idiotic grin on his face.

“Thanks, Saeran. I appreciate it.”

“Just shut up and go to sleep or I’ll knock you out myself.”

***

A/N: I’m so sorry that this took so long, I died during recess week lmao and I actually had this part written out before but then I scrapped everything and re-did it soooooo yeah.

I ended up thinking more about how I can develop the plot to end things on a fluffier and happier note, which is why this probably isn’t the last chapter (AAAAAA I WAS SO READY FOR IT TO END BUT AT THE SAME TIME I WANT FLUFF)

so yeah i’ll TRY MY BEST. To upload soon. But also finals are in like a moNTH so :D Anyways I’ll definitely have time to work on this after finals so wheeee it’s just a matter of time (I’m SORRY THAT I ALWAYS KEEP PPL WAITING am truly unreliable but :”(((( thx for sticking with this story i rly rly appreciate it)

okay enough rant from me i’ll try working on this chapter more although my plan is for it to be p r e t t y l o a d e d so it miiiight not come so soon either. I’ll just try :)

#mystic messenger #saeran fanfiction #saeran choi #saeran #my writing #believe again

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obwjam · 4 years ago

Note

The mike x borrower meeting sounds interesting, you should definitely write it!

not the exact same thing but this is a direct copy-paste from something i wrote a year ago lmao i’m putting it under the cut, in which mike makes a new borrower friend breakfast

“G’morning, little buddy,” a soft yet cheery voice rang out above me. My eyes snapped open to see Mike looming over me. I shot up and tried to scuttle back, but not only was my leg wrapped up nicely, but I was, too. I merely fell back into the mountainous folds of the cloth.

“How’d ya sleep?” he asked, pulling a chair up and seemingly glossing over my flinch.

“O-okay,” I stammered. I was sleeping well until I was rudely awakened.

“Was it too hot? Too cold?”

I shrugged. “Too big.”

Mike let out a small laugh. “Funny. Lemme getcha somethin’ to drink. Y’ever had coffee?”

“What do you think?” I asked, trying to be funny but instead coming across as rude. Mike raised his eyebrow at me, but amusingly smirked.

“You care to try it?”

“I--I guess I could… I’ve always smelled it. Never been able to sneak around and grab any.”

“Mmm, alright,” he said, standing back up. I marveled up at him as he moved around, almost not able to believe that I was watching him like always, but I was close. I didn’t have to hide, or worry that he might see me.

“Hmm…” Mike mused, filling his mug to the top. “Didn’t really think how I’d pour ya a cup.”

“I’ve got a cup back in--” I started, but stopped. It probably wasn’t a good idea to tell him about the nook.

But of course, he heard me. “Back where?”

My eyes darted to the table. “N-nothing. Nowhere. I--I wouldn’t be able to make it there, anyway, with my leg.”

“Are you talkin’ about where you live?” Mike asked, leaning back against the counter and casually sipping his coffee. As if this was a casual conversation.

I nodded. “It’s called -- well, I call it my nook. Just where I sleep and keep all my things.”

“Sounds very cozy,” he said, taking another sip. “Y’know, I could always bring you wherever you--”

I laughed, shaking off the thought of one of them holding me. “You wouldn’t be able to bring me to the nook, Mike. You’re too big.”

A smirk grew across Mike’s face. “Too big, huh? Can’t just stick my arm in a hole or somethin’?”

“No,” I said with a chuckle. “Still much too big.”

Mike shrugged. “That’s a shame. I would’ve liked to see it.”

He paused, deliberating over something. He eventually let out a sigh and flopped back down into a chair.

“I, uh, look, I--” he paused for a breath. “I know this is all, uh, less than ideal,” he stammered, glancing down at my leg. I bit my lip. “But, well, y’see, we want to help. So if you need anything, want anything… just, just tell one of us. We’ll be happy to getcha what you need.”

Before I could speak, he started again.

“A-and, well… I-I know it’s prob’ly pretty scary, f-for you, but, uh, we can bring ya anywhere too.”

There it was. I knew he was going to address that. And it wasn’t entirely crazy -- I certainly didn’t want to be stuck on this table forever. But the thought of trusting one of them with my life in their hands and having the others give me stares? I didn’t want to deal with that. Not right now.

“I bet you don’t wanna be sittin’ on this table forever,” Mike echoed my thoughts. I gave him a nod.

“It’s just…” I started, freezing up when I looked up at Mike. Eye contact was still a work in progress. “I dunno.”

“You can tell me, darlin’, it’s alright,” Mike said softly. “I’m not gonna get mad.”

I took a breath. “This is all pretty… new to me. A-as you can imagine. I’ve never… I--I don’t want to…” Inhale. Exhale. “I don’t want to be a bother. I’ve already caused too much trouble.”

“Aw, darlin’, you haven’t caused a lick of trouble,” Mike said.

“You understand that I can’t go back, right? I can’t go back on my own with a broken leg. I--I can’t climb, I can’t even walk. If--if I want to survive, at least— at least until my leg is better… I’m gonna need your help to do it. That’s an awful lot of attention you’ll need to dedicate to me. And I… I don’t want to ask that of you.”

“Oh, it’s not as big a deal as you think it’ll be,” Mike said, leaning down. “Sure, you’re pretty small, and we’ll have to be extra careful. But makin’ sure you have somethin’ to eat or drink or that ya have a place to sleep at night is no trouble at all.” He paused to rub the back of his neck, desperately trying to think of what to say next. “Are you… how are you feelin’? ‘Bout all this.”

I shrugged, allowing myself to laugh. I guess there was no way any of them would ever understand unless I explained it to them.

“I think… more than anything… I’m, uh, anxious,” I said, furiously twiddling my thumbs. “A-and scared. I-it’s hard not to look at everything and everyone towering above me and not get overwhelmed, you know?”

Mike nodded, suddenly acutely aware of how big he must seem to her. “I can leave ya alone, if you need time to… relax.” That was not the right word to use.

***change of perspective for no reason just go with it***

To his surprise, she vigorously shook her head. “No. Well. I dunno. I’m just… I-I’m already here. You already know about me.” In truth, she wanted to be left alone. All she wanted to do was crawl into her nook and never come back out. But knowing that she couldn’t go anywhere, the last thing she wanted was to be lounging around on the table, exposed and alone, without someone to accompany her and take some of the attention away. Mike was taking the lead on taking care of her and was the least invasive of the four, so this was the best she was going to get right now. “You… you’re not going to…” she stopped. Mike inched forward, eyes urging her to press on.

“Not goin’ to what?”

She sighed. “Not… do anything to me.” Her voice was so soft, Mike was surprised he could hear her.

“Do anything? Like what?”

She shook her head, lower lip quivering. “N-nothing. Forget I said anything.”

Mike’s eyes widened with sorrow, but he knew it wouldn’t be good to push her. He could piece together that the “anything” she was referring to wasn’t a good thing, anyway.

“You hungry?” Mike asked, desperate to change the subject. She slowly nodded, still looking away. Mike tried to ignore the fact that this whole thing stemmed from his inability to give her coffee and he had yet to come up with a solution. For the first time ever, he found himself wishing that Micky was awake early. He would know how to make something for her.

Mike stood up and looked into the ice box, his heart leaping when he saw actual food in there.

“Y’ever had eggs and bacon?”

She laughed. It was a genuine laugh, one of those laughs you give when you’re delightfully amused. Mike hadn’t even seen her smile, so hearing her laugh float up from the table surprised him. He found the corners of his lips turning up at the sound.

“It’s safe to assume I’ve never tried anything,” she called out, clearly trying to make sure Mike could hear her. Mike fished out the carton of eggs and half-eaten package of bacon from the back of the ice box, swiftly placing the ingredients on the counter. He reached for a pan and clicked the stove on.

“Think about it,” she forced herself to continue. She didn’t want Mike to be the only one talking. “How could I have possibly borrowed eggs and bacon while you weren’t looking?”

Mike bit his lip. He never really thought hard about the fact that she had basically been stealing things in secret for years. Anything she’s ever taken was done without their knowledge. He couldn’t even remember noticing things going missing until the recent bread incident.

“Fair point,” Mike said, cracking an egg over a now-heated pan.

“Plus, it’s hard to borrow a meal you only make twice a year.”

Mike turned around quickly, a comically amused look on his face. “Was that a joke?” he said with a teasing tone. She winced and sunk back into her towel a little bit, but recovered quickly when she realized Mike wasn’t being harsh.

She shrugged, trying to hide a smile. “It’s just the truth.”

Mike found himself trying to hide his own grin.

“Yer funny,” he said, letting the sizzle of the other side of the egg try to hide his comment. It was the second time calling her funny this morning. He called Micky funny maybe once a month.

She had heard his comment, of course, and definitely registered that it was a repeat compliment. She knew Mike was going to get all weird if she mentioned it, so she stayed quiet, marveling at his cooking. This wasn’t the first time she’s ever watched one of them perform a mundane daily task, but it was different than all the other times. She was present in this. Though the nagging thought in the back of her mind telling her to hide was still there, she knew it was just instinct. Mike was making this for her. She didn’t have to watch him cook and smell the food and wonder what it tastes like and wish she could find out for herself. She was going to find out. Despite the fear and uncomfortability she felt, she was willing to let her guard down for this one thing. This was a primal instinct letting itself through. She was going to enjoy this meal, and enjoy the company. Maybe it would help her feel more normal.

Once the egg was done frying, Mike plopped two strips of bacon in its place, transferring the egg to a small plate. The smell of eggs was good, yeah, but the smell of bacon was overwhelming. So overwhelming, in fact, it got Micky to get out of bed. He bounded down the stairs, excited that they had enough food for Mike to be cooking for everyone. He was so excited that he completely forgot about their little house guest.

“You’re making breakfast? Groovy!” Micky said, riding up right on Mike’s tail, making him jump.

“Don’t do that,” Mike muttered harshly, flipping the bacon over. “It ain’t for you.”

“What!” Micky cried. “You’re just making breakfast for yourself? C’mon, man, that’s--”

“Are you stupid?” Mike hissed, jerking his head toward the table. Micky looked back, down, then gasped. Yeah, I am stupid.

He chuckled nervously, locking gazes with her for just a bit too long. Her cheeks were bright red, and she looked nervous.

“S-sorry,” he said suddenly, breaking eye contact with her. “I’ll, uh.” He reached up to the cabinet and pulled out the almost-empty box of corn flakes. “I’ll just go back upstairs.”

Before Mike could protest, Micky was already halfway gone. The Texan sighed, peeling the bacon from the pan and placing it next to the eggs.

“Sorry about him,” Mike said, placing the plate in front of him as he took a seat. “That boy don’t know how to control himself.”

She shrugged, looking down to her cast. “He did a good job with this.”

Mike looked to her leg. “How’s it feel, by the way?”

“It’s… it hurts. Kinda throbbing,” she said. “But I can feel it getting better.”

“Already?” Mike asked, almost absentmindedly, as he took his fork and began cutting off a little piece of egg.

She nodded. “Borrowers, we… we tend to heal faster than humans do.” Mike cringed again at the distinction. “I’ll probably be good to walk around again in like, two weeks.”

“Two weeks? Are ya sure? Have you ever broke your leg before?”

She laughed that amused laugh again, and Mike found himself getting embarrassed every time she did that. It was a laugh that said Oh boy, this idiot doesn’t get it.

“I’ve broken more bones than I can count.” She fiddled with her thumbs. “Elbow, legs. Both of ‘em. Arms, shoulders, fingers. I’ve rolled my ankle so many times I don’t know how it’s still attached to my body.” She stuck her good leg up and rolled her ankle around. “Yeah, it’s still there!”

“Jeez, that’s awful,” Mike said, suddenly losing all interest in the food. “How did you…” He didn’t know if asking this was a good idea, but he wanted to know everything about her that he could possibly find out. “How d’you, get all those… supplies you need, if you’re all banged up?”

She went quiet for a moment. “Wh-when I take food, I usually keep a weeks’ supply going. To prevent running out. Water is… more difficult. I’ll go a few days without drinking any.”

“That could kill you!”

She shrugged. “I’ve gone weeks without water before. It’s so hard to transport, I end up spilling half the stuff I take.”

Mike tried to picture carrying a bucket of water through an obstacle course with a broken leg. He couldn’t even fathom the possibility.

“It’s… amazing you even get any,” he said carefully, not wanting to sound patronizing.

“Yeah, you’re telling me,” she smirked, eyes cast downward. She wasn’t very hungry anymore.

“I…” Mike tried, but stopped himself. Everything he asked led to her being sad, and that was the last thing Mike wanted right now. “…why don’t ya try some of that food I made ya?” he tried. “It’s gonna go cold soon.”

That seemed to catch her attention rather quickly. She finally had a hot meal in front of her, and she was really about to squander it. She stared at the scraps in front of her, studying the textures of the egg. Luckily, the bacon smelled delicious, because the smell of the egg was not doing her appetite any favors. She began to wonder how disgusting this thing might taste.

“Everythin’ alright?” Mike asked with a mouthful of egg. He figured she would be all over this. She finally looked up at him, and his face was soft; sympathetic. He was simply waiting for her to try the food, eager for her reaction to his cooking. She gave a small nod before picking up the small piece of egg with her hands. It was still warm, though not fresh-out-of-the-pan hot. It was still warmer than anything she’s ever had before, and it felt wonderful in her hands. It wasn’t often that she experienced warmth; though, in California, she fared better than most. But the nights got cold and the heater was much too loud to sleep next to. Huddling up in her blankets and getting some hot water was the closest she ever got to the feeling of warmth. And when she was able to treat herself to hot water, the feeling of it traveling through her body and down to her stomach, ironically enough, always gave her chills. Maybe this egg could do the same.

With a renewed sense of energy, she bit into the egg and was instantly surprised—it was squishy. It almost sloshed around in her mouth, but it was fluffy at the same time. A little wet, too. There was some weird yellow liquid on it, which she could only assume was part of the egg. She chewed carefully, wanting to savor and remember the first egg she’d ever eaten. She couldn’t quite place the taste, but it was cooked enough that it was stained with the taste of old foods cooked in that same pan. It gave it an extra depth she didn’t realize food could have. It was unlike anything she had ever tasted and she loved it.

“This… this is incredible,” she said, looking at the egg like it was a newborn baby. Mike couldn’t help but smile at her infatuation.

“Aw, well. My cookin’ ain’t that good,” he joked. Inside, he was just happy she seemed to find pleasure in something.

Before she could even respond, she abandoned her notion of savoring the taste and scarfed down the rest of the egg. She ravenously turned to the bacon and ate it up before Mike could even blink.

“Jeez, you’re hungry, aren’t’cha?” he mumbled affectionately, not realizing he had slipped into pet-talk mode. She, however, did notice. She shot him a glare, which took Mike a few moments to understand.

“If you only ever ate stale crackers, you’d eat like this too,” she said, wiping her mouth. “Well, I’m actually a little surprised you aren’t eating like this is the first hot meal you’ve ever had!” She said cheekily with a nervous chuckle.

Mike smiled, once again amused at her joke, before realizing there was a layer to this.

“…is this your first hot meal? Ever?”

She shrugged, which Mike was beginning to realize was an ashamed “yes”.

“…It’s not even that hot,” she mumbled, only half-joking.

“Jeez, bud, I—I could have heated it back up for ya.” She didn’t respond. “Well, there’s plenty more where that came from. Do you want some more?” He gestured to his plate, which was still full of food, but she took intrigue with something he had just said.

“Plenty more?”

“Well, yeah. I-I’m not gonna let you starve,” he said, sniffing a laugh.

“You… you don’t need to do that,” she said, more ashamed than anything. No matter how wonderful real cooking was, she didn’t need to be treated like she was totally helpless.

“Why wouldn’t I?” Mike asked, genuinely surprised by her reaction. “Based off everythin’ you told me, well, you don’t need to hunt for scraps anymore. We can take care of stuff for ya—”

“—I don’t need to be taken care of,” she snapped, surprising herself. “I’ve been managing for 22 years,” she mumbled lowly. “I’ll be alright.”

Mike raised his eyebrows. He understood this kind of stubbornness because it was the same exact kind of pride he carried around himself. He didn’t expect her to be proud of the way she lived, but he understood the knee-jerk reaction. It was a lot easier to see how silly it was on the outside, though, and he suddenly started to wonder how many times his pride made him seem foolish instead of independent.

“I’m not sayin’ you can’t take care of yourself. Clearly, you’ve been going for this long. I don’t think you’re helpless. You seem to be anything but.” She meekly met Mike’s gaze, which was sincere yet firm. “But I get it, y’know? The stubbornness. Refusin’ help because you think acceptin’ it makes you weak.”

there is more but this is already way too long lmao

#for anyone interested #obwrites #asks

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sumeshi-t · 4 years ago

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past or present— a haikyuu smau

[oikawa x y/n x atsumu]

a/n: should i even call this a smau if i keep putting out wordy partsz LMAO jk by next part, or 25, it'll all go back to normal i promise ily all

part 22 > part 23 > part 24 | nav.

"she's out cold," iwaizumi mutters, staring down at your form: upper body spread on the table, bun loosened, make up faded, but the evidence of your drunken state obvious from the flush of your cheeks. matsukawa sighs, "at least she won't have to puke in the car,"

hanamaki chuckles, tipsy, "she finished a lot... when she can't even handle herself, what a lo~oser..."

iwaizumi frowns, lightly shoving hanamaki, who has to grab the nearest wall to prevent from falling face first on the floor. "you're partly to blame. why'd you even challenge y/n to a drinking contest?!"

then, oikawa quietly makes his way towards you to drape his suit jacket over your shoulders, before he carries you on his back. the other two who were sober only watched as the setter says, "well, this can't be helped. i think it's fine for y/n to let loose, don't you guys think?" his face was unreadable; yet they knew his words just then surely held meaning. "iwa-chan, y/n's purse please?"

oikawa walks outside the KTV room ahead of everybody else. meanwhile, iwaizumi and matsukawa try to handle the drunk hanamaki. the three of them, especially iwaizumi, stole glances over to you and oikawa, making sure to keep their distance in an effort to give you and oikawa some privacy.

"you think this is gonna be okay? i mean, them...?" matsukawa murmurs, clear enough for iwaizumi to understand. iwaizumi's shoulders slump as he sighs, "there's nothing i can do but to hope so."

'good thing her dress has a convenient slit,' oikawa idly thinks to himself, feeling your steady breathing on his back.

'how long has it been since i last carried you like this, y/n?' oikawa wasn't going to deny it, he knew the alcohol's in his system too, but it just didn't hit him as hard as it hit you; perhaps, he was once again using another lame excuse for being sentimental, afraid of admitting to himself that it was you who made him feel these things, made him feel a certain kind of way.

he wished you too, were feeling the same. or, perhaps, could still feel the same.

the thought made oikawa's hold on your legs tighten. not because he was afraid of letting you fall, but because he was afraid of having to let you go. again. he already made that mistake once, he wasn't about to make that mistake twice. in the short time he has with you, he was going to savor every millisecond of it.

the walk to the parking lot was quicker than he'd expected. oikawa let his three friends go first, wanting to feel your warmth and presence a tiny bit longer.

"what are you waiting for, trashykawa? get in the damn car, before hanamaki explodes all over it,"

with a resentful sigh, oikawa carefully gets you settled in your seat.

the ride was quiet, no one spoke to one another until it was time to drop everybody near their respective homes. hanamaki was first, followed by iwaizumi then oikawa. however, the latter never got out the car. "i'll take care of y/n. can't just leave her like that..."

matsukawa looked at his former captain through the rearview mirror, who was simply looking out the car window, watching iwaizumi's retreating back. without a word, he drove past oikawa's house and went straight to yours.

meanwhile, iwaizumi stopped in his tracks, eyes following the departing car. he could only take a deep breath, and look up at the starless sky. as a friend, he could only sit back and hope that his best friends would figure out how to get along with each other from now on, finish what ever unfinished business they had with each other. he doesn't let it show, but it is troubling for him to be stuck in the middle.

iwaizumi shook off the negativity from his mindset as he stepped foot inside his house. he trusts that they will sort things out in the long run, and he would be there for them both, no matter what.

the car stopped nearby your house's entrance, and matsukawa stretched after pulling on the handbrake. "alright, captain. we're here. do you want me to wait for you?"

oikawa was already standing by your side of the car, about to carry you, whilst rummaging through your purse to get your keys. "nah mattsun, you should go ahead. i told you i'd take care of y/n; she's going to have a re~eally bad hangover from this,"

as oikawa picked you up from the front seat, matsukawa simply spared him a nod before lighting a cigar, then drove off, knowing you were in good hands.

soon as oikawa brought you inside, he laid you down on your futon. you groaned in your sleep, before turning over so your back was facing him. he only stared at your form once, watching the steady rise and fall of your bare back, before he sat on the floor by your feet. oikawa removed your heels and jewelry, and proceeded to tucking you in beneath the sheets. he even went so far as to get a towel to wipe your face clean, and loosened the bun you put your hair up in.

although he was tired, tipsy, and jet-lagged, oikawa still managed to do these things and when he was done, he left you in your room and slept outside, on the floor. 'it's the least i could do,' he thought to himself.

how he wished he could do more, if only... you were willing to let him.

then, he feels your phone vibrate on the main hall's single table. he forgot about your purse, so he lazily reached for it, grateful for his long arms. oikawa took your phone out, and he was supposed to feel happy when he recognized your lockscreen being one of the sunset photos he's sent you–but then the string of notifications on the screen with atsumu's name on full display overruled that. luckily, you had your settings in a way that wouldn't let anyone read the content of the message unless the phone was unlocked.

oikawa was sure he's seen that name before; he knew it was volleyball-related but he just couldn't put a finger on it. whoever it was, he mused that this person was very close to you; it was way past midnight and "atsumu miya" was still up to check on you.

he sighed–too bad you were drunk and passed out, stuck inside the house with your ex, back in miyagi;

so he cleared the notifications, while an unsettling feeling made its way in his chest.

the brunette pouted, he didn't want to label that feeling with anything but... he was quite, sorta, kinda, slightly jealous.

jealous that a man other than him would be this willing, this persistent, to stay up late, just to make sure you were safe.

oikawa grabbed your phone again, swiped up to open the camera to check himself. his cheeks were still flushed, hair messy yet framing his face perfectly, eyes weary. "goddamnit, i'm so cute," he took one lazy selfie before locking your phone once again, and bringing it to your room.

he went back outside, grabbed his own phone from his pocket while lying down to inform iwaizumi that you were still off in dreamland and that he was about to bang the tatami, before dozing off into a nap.

the next morning, oikawa was first to wake up. luckily, he wasn't hungover. he went to check on you, and you were still asleep. so, just like the old times, oikawa heads straight to your kitchen as if he owned the place, looking for anything he could make for breakfast and for your headache.

he was troubled upon discovering that there wasn't much there but eggs and some bread, so oikawa went out to make a quick trip to a nearby convenience store. the setter prepared for you a simple sandwich, readied a bottle of hangover cure, made some instant noodles just for you to have some soup.

the idle kitchen noise woke you up, your headache accentuated by confusion and panic. you were so disoriented, having nearly no memory of last night, 'at least i'm still in my dress,' you consoled yourself, while you hurriedly grabbed both your heels off the floor–an action you regretted as the world around you was spinning–all this just to deal with who or what you thought was an intruder.

your arm was already raised up, about to throw a shoe at the person, about to throw up yourself too.

but then, you couldn't believe your eyes. it took a while for the sight before you to register in your hung up brain.

oikawa's sleeves rolled up to his elbows, tie loosened, and wearing dark, alien-designed socks, transferring soup from the pot to a bowl.

you didn't know which throbbed harder: your head or your heart.

"w-what the fuck are you doing here?!"

taglist: @yams046 @tamcitrus @nerdyphantomlady @haikyuuincorrect @aurorahoneybuns @zoppzoop @takingyouruwus @jesquisser @blushinggray @keigosbitch @emailandpassword @mephistominion @90s-belladonna @thannael @maravillamin @hideewrites @kiwigore @2sj2 @firsthandembarrassment @astrrnmy @deathcab4daddy @littleblackpheonix @huhkaashi @chibi-chibiii @renee1414 @namyari

cheese cult: @akaashit-baeji @taeiliee @bubbleteaa @pineapplekween @ouikarwa @agaashi @boomboomjaz

#haikyuu #haikyuu smau #oikawa tooru x reader #oikawa tooru x reader x atsumu miya #oikawa x you #atsumu miya x reader #atsumu x you #oikawa tooru #atsumu miya #iwaizumi hajime #hanamaki takahiro #matsukawa issei

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justkurotingz · 5 years ago

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shove you off a bridge (spencer reid x reader)

i saw a prompt somewhere that went along the lines of “i don’t know if i want to kiss you or shove you off a bridge” and then i found this gif and just 😌😌 it just goes together so well imo. i changed the geography a lil just go with me LMAO. love u all <333

word count: 1.4K

you felt his eyes on you, but you willed yourself not to look up. he cheated on you. you told yourself, busying yourself with the paperwork from the case you had just solved. the bullpen was mainly empty, the only person there that mattered to you was spence.

your heart flipped at the thought of the nickname. before you could stop yourself, your mind teleported to the last weekend you spent together, waking up to spence making breakfast, a pillow fight ensuing after eggs and toast. shutting your eyes tightly, you closed the files in front of you, packing up without finishing them.

it wasn’t like it was urgent anyways, hotch could deal with it in the morning. “y/n... can we talk?” “no.” you answered curtly, forcing yourself to not look into his eyes. “you’ve been ghosting me for almost a week and a half. tell me what’s wrong. i can fix it.” he pleaded, voice breaking and it took all your strength not to run into his arms and comfort him.

“y/n please look at me.” you were a goner from the second he said your name, and hesitantly looked up. his eyes were teary and his lip was trembling. “please y/n. what did i do? i’ll fix it, i swear.” he was stuttering just like he did when he initially asked you out.

it pained you to admit that you missed him. you missed him more than you would let on. you missed his laugh, his jokes, his rambling, his easy smile when he’s with you. you missed waking up next to him in bed, being able to spend an entire day doing absolutely nothing because you were with him. you missed his hugs most of all. more than the kisses, his hugs were what got you. passionate and sweet, you’d melt into each other after hard days. it was how you both would relieve all your emotions and feelings from a case. after you hugged it out, it was like you were drugged, a feeling of instant euphoria replaced the negative thoughts.

blinking back tears, you switched off your computer and grabbed your purse. “i’m leaving.” “y/n.” he called, but you quickly headed for the elevator, pressing the button to close the door and glancing at your feet so you wouldn’t see the tears streaming down his face as the doors shut.

as you rode the elevator, you let out a huge sigh, fixing your hair absently. you really didn’t want to go back home to your empty apartment. ever since you started ghosting spence, you started to walk to work. you only lived half a mile away from the bau in the first place, and never got enough exercise, except from chasing unsubs. so you decided to walk in hopes of being healthier, those post break up glow up tiktoks inspiring you.

well, it wasn’t a breakup. more like a drift. you mused as you reached the bridge that led you straight home. there were barely any cars out, and it was a crescent moon. the stars sparkled in the sky, and you paused, peering over the bridge’s stone arcs.

your reflection shone in the water below you, illuminated by the dazzle of the night sky behind you. you relaxed, letting yourself de-stress by the water. nature was always one of your favorite things, especially bodies of water. something about expanses of water was calming to you. without water, nothing exists. it seems so mundane, just a tasteless colorless liquid, but life would be so different without water. you smiled to yourself, stepping back from the bridge to walk home.

“y/n.” your name halted you in your steps. you contemplated just brushing him off, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. “what do you want from me spence?” you were exhausted, but turned, staring spencer reid in the eyes. he stood maybe about 10 feet away from you, but somehow his voice was just a whisper.

“what did i do?” four words, he offered nothing else, and suddenly pure anger filled you. “what did you do? what did you do?” your voice rose and suddenly spence took a step forward.”y/n-” “don’t come closer. don’t you dare come closer!” you yelled, the emotions you pushed down inside you spilling out.

“y/n.” his voice was as soft as ever, just like his movements and his eyes. “what are you even doing here?” you ground out and he smiled. “i wanted to make sure you got home safe.” “of course.” you said bitterly and he took another cautious step forward, making you back up.

“y/n, i can’t figure out what i did.” “with an iq of 187 i find it hard to believe you can be this ignorant sometimes.” spence winced, and then dropped his hands. “tell me. please.” “DAMMIT SPENCE!” you exploded. “HOW COULD YOU JUST FORGET?!” you were crying now, the words becoming harder to spew.

“HOW COULD YOU JUST CHEAT ON ME LIKE THAT?” you sobbed, wrapping your hands around yourself. the pain of reliving the memory was tearing you apart but spence looked confused. “y/n what are you talking about?” “i can’t BELIEVE you right now. i SAW YOU with that... that girl!” you spat, tears choking you. you couldn't even breathe but you forced the words out.

“sh-she kissed you and you didn’t do anything! you.... you KISSED HER BACK!” you were falling apart entirely, and spence’s face contorted in a painful grimace. he didn’t know whether to give you space or to hold you tight but seeing you in this much pain hurt him. “y/n. oh baby, i’d never cheat on you. the girl? she’s strauss’s new assistant and i asked her to get me some files. i thanked her for bringing them to me and before i could do anything she kissed me. believe me, i would have pushed her off me right then and there, but i was in so much shock y/n. you probably left before you saw me step back. i told her i was flattered but i have a girlfriend. a girlfriend i love with my entire heart. she makes me feel like the luckiest man in the world when she hugs me, when she brings me coffee, when she even smiles at me. she puts up with me and my rambling and she is the most selfless and compassionate person i know. i love every part of her, from her laugh to her body to her style to her personality. she makes me feel human. y/n how could you ever think i could cheat on you?”

you couldn’t even speak, you were crying too hard, and spence’s heart flipped. you managed to look so adorable even when sobbing your heart out. “god, i’m so so sorry. i’m so sorry.” he rushed to you, holding you tight in his arms and you wrapped your arms tightly around his neck, sobbing into him. “i missed you so much.” he whispered, crying himself, one hand in your hair and one around your waist. the feeling of spence’s arms around you was too much for you to take and you backed away.

“i don’t know whether i want to kiss you or shove you off this goddamn bridge.” you cried, sniffling as your nose ran and spence laughed, handing you a tissue which you took gratefully. “i love you so much. i love you so much.” you chanted, falling back into his arms and you stayed like that for a long time, holding each other as if you were the only people in the world.

“i really didn’t want to go back to my apartment alone.” you whispered, making spence chuckle. “let’s go home y/n. promise me you won’t jump to conclusions before talking to me again.” “i promise.” you squeezed his hand as you walked back to his car, so thankful to be sitting in a car again. “i know you couldn’t last long walking.” he teased making you roll your eyes. “chasing unsubs is my exercise.” “you’ve used that excuse for three years straight y/n, time for a new one.” you smiled, leaning against the car door and your heart flipped as you saw the picture of the two of you he kept on his dashboard.

safe to say, you had the best night’s sleep that night since the breakup. somethings were just better with your boyfriend. as you woke up curled in spence’s arms, the smile he gave you melted your heart. “i missed waking up next to you.” you both whispered at the same time and your laugh made spence stop and watch you. “i love your laugh.” he whispered, kissing you and you knew, there was nowhere you’d rather be for the rest of your life.

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mego42 · 4 years ago

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1x07 Discussion Questions

My b! My b! I usually try to do these when the episode is fresh but instead I went to sleep, I am at peace with my priorities, tbh. As always, many thanks to @pynkhues for her time and energy putting these together and shout out to @foxmagpie for the assist.

1. What was your favourite scene of the episode? Tell us why!

Lot of contenders, tbh. I really love the scene with Mary Pat when she puts together the (extremely transparent) bullshit that is the whole secret shopper scheme (I mean come on y’all, did you even try????), I love Ruby and Stan’s date (high five to Stan for coming through with my parks & rec reference, it’s nice to know there is one (1) man I can count on). The Annie and Greg bit is REALLY SWEET LEAVE ME ALONE. The god tier brio content, specifically The Grab Heard Round The World My Living Room and the Give Me A Name bit. Some classic Rio nonsense (do you think if we asked him to point to an egg he’d point to an apple?) Tyler and his “reeeeeeally fill out the surveys?” was, obvs, the best moment on the entire show. Anyway, one of those for sure.

2. Was there any scene that missed the mark for you? And if so, how?

The Boomer setting up Annie stuff always falls flat to me and idk exactly why? Like, individual pieces of it are great, Mae does EXCELLENT work post police station and when getting arrested in the first place but ultimately I find it fairly forgettable in the grand scheme of things.

3. Let’s talk about the secret shopper scheme! What do you think were the strengths of it? The flaws? Do you think it had longterm potential? Or was it always going to crash and burn?

I said this during the rewatch but I straight up blocked out the fact that all of the shoppers are hitting the same store on the same day (waving around upwards of $5k in cash???? no less???????) because my brain cannot comprehend how three women we’re supposed to believe are reasonably intelligent didn’t realize this was the stupidest, most transparently obvious, most short-sighted scheme in the entire world.

I struggled with the sustainability of it a bit when I thought they were spreading their efforts around (they roped in A Lot of people, there are only so many Costcos in the Detroit metro area and waving around that much cash and then returning it all, again for cash, is uh, already p memorable) but I could deal with it when I thought they were spreading it around. Short-sighted, immediate solutions are a cornerstone of Beth’s brand, after all, but all of them at the same store at the same day???? Too much. I cannot.

4. The girls spent their money in very different ways! Ruby on romancing Stan, Annie on clothes for her son, and Beth on jewellery for herself. What do you think this tells us about them and their arcs? Particularly coming off the back of Ruby’s conflict with Stan, Ben’s issues at school with clothes, and Beth leaving Rio her pearls?

Love these connects. The show’s got a pretty clearly defined and consistent visual/character motifs (this may or may not be the word I’m looking for, shut up) when it comes to depicting the girls priorities and motivations. You also see it reflected and reinforced with their repeated coping mechanisms throughout the show. Whenever bad stuff happens, Ruby goes home to Stan, Annie crawls into bed with Ben and we usually close with Beth either alone (ouch david) or connecting with Rio in some way (exhibit a: the aforementioned pearls).

In all of the instances it comes back to the heart of their priorities:

Stan is Ruby’s number one, (which isn’t to say her kids aren’t a part of that, I think Stan is both himself in this sense while also representing her whole Hill family unit—TV is all about visual shorthand kids—but also it serves to illustrate that Ruby has something Beth and Annie do not: a true partner).

Ben is at the root of everything Annie does, she makes choices based on not only his. well-being, but how he sees her and he has the most influence over how she sees herself and what actions she takes as a result of that.

Beth, on the other hand, is at a contrasting point. She’s done the devoted partner and mother thing (lowkey implied by the little bits and pieces we get of her and Annie’s childhoods to some degree more or less for her entire life) and is now putting herself first, her needs, her wants. Which isn’t to say she doesn’t give a fuck about her family, she waits until she’s got a fat stack of cash and they’re taken care of before splurging on a thing, but as a symbol I think the necklace pretty clearly illuminates that for whatever Beth tells herself, she’s building an empire for herself, bc she wants it, needing it is secondary.

5. Eddie’s arrest is arguably what sets us on a collision course with the finale! Do you think Eddie was loyal to Rio until the end? How much do you think he told Turner? And what sort of loyalty do you think Rio inspires in his boys? And why doesn’t it translate with the girls?

OF COURSE EDDIE WAS LOYAL TO THE END HE HAS CLEARLY DEMONSTRATED HE HAS SOME KIND OF CODE OF HONOR HOW DARE YOU SLANDER MY BOY LIKE THAT.

Tbh idk how to answer the loyalty question without more information from canon because the gang and how they operate, how they all came together, etc is pretty well shrouded in not-central-narrative-focus, though I think it’s been implied somewhat heavily that what’s going on with the girls is not standard operating procedure.

My personal headcanon for Eddie is tied up in my personal backstory for Rio and Mick that I started for my (lmao first) Mick POV fic. I gave Rio and Mick a friends since we were kids backstory and decided Eddie was a kid in their neighborhood, slightly younger then them, and always looked up to them/followed them around/thought they were cool. He ultimately got involved in crime because they did and they looked out for him and brought him up with them (which, you know, makes how it all turns out that much more tragic). Obvs, this is all just me and my tendency to imprint on random side characters and give them backstories. Let me live.

6. This episode introduces us to Mary Pat, who’s probably one of this show’s most complicated antagonists! What do you think of her generally? And could you have predicted her arc with Boomer and Turner?

I love her and I’m done lying to myself about it.

LISTEN, first off, Allison Tolman is great. Her line delivery is fantastic, she has a knack for subtly adding SO MUCH to every scene she’s in and uses her face and inflection and pauses exquisitely. Top notch comedic timing. Truly a gem.

Second, on a character level, the lady is in a bad spot and the girls basically gift-wrapped the circumstances and handed them to her like here is a present!!!!!!!!!!!! What was a struggling girl to do besides accept what was offered to her??????!!!!!!???

7. This episode features a very pivotal scene in terms of the Beth, Ruby and Annie dynamic. What starts as tension between Annie and Beth quickly pivots when Ruby criticises Beth and Annie leaps to her sister’s defence. What do you think this tells us about the dynamic between the girls as pairs and as a trio?

I am so!!!! curious!!!!!!! about the backstory that exists in the writers’ heads for Ruby and Annie (all three of them, really, but the bff and little sister having an independent friendship is of particular interest to me bc it isn’t something you, or I guess I, run into a lot) and how much of it was defined at this point vs how much it’s evolved/fluctuated as the show goes on. This fight pretty clearly illuminated that when it really comes down to it, it’s Beth and Annie vs Ruby which a) breaks my heart and b) isn’t totally a dynamic I think the show ultimately stuck with? Or maybe intentionally fluctuates? Idk this is a half-baked thought. Ask again later.

8. Greg is the one who kisses Annie! Who do you think left who in that relationship, and/or what were the biggest issues in that relationship?

I feel like there’s pretty much no way Annie wasn’t the one that called things off with Greg. Not just because of how it plays out this time but because he’s got a kind of persistent yet also go with the flow attitude that makes me think he would absorb a lot in the name of making it work whereas Annie seems to have a pretty established history of cutting her losses and bailing when she hits her limit. Based on how fond they are of each other and how much affection they clearly still hold, I tend to assume they just grew apart as they grew up which makes it almost more complicated and tragic because it leaves all of the good stuff and just mixes it with the knowledge that it wasn’t enough.

9. What did you think of Ruby’s sauce story? And what do you think it meant as a turning point for her arc?

I HATE THIS STORY SO MUCH USED BAND AIDS ARE GROSS ENOUGH ON THEIR OWN WITHOUT MIXING IN FOOD SERVICE AND MONTHS, MONTHS, OF MARINATION. I REFUSE TO TALK ABOUT IT. GET OUT OF MY HOUSE.

10. Knowing that Beth, Ruby and Annie’s system of paying Mary Pat off doesn’t work, do you think there was a way they could’ve handled her on their own that would’ve worked? Or do you think Rio’s intimidation (and potential murder) tactic was the only way out?

Idk maybe I’m just cynical, but I take trust no bitch to heart, they pretty well screwed themselves into a corner by being idiots.

#rewatching this ep taught me a lot about my feelings on the secret shopper scheme #gg rewatch #gg 1x07 #gg related #shut up meg

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in-tua-deep · 5 years ago

Note

i need you to know that every once in a while i go back and read your whole responsible luther au from start to finish and like.... i would legit read 100k of that and still want more, i LOVE that entire concept to PIECES and just kdjdjfhfl thank you for elaborating on that plot so much

adsfdDFSGHF i’m v flattered i will admit I myself didn’t expect to become as fond as I have with that particular au lmao i think it’s a combo of the way luther in that au is generally unflappable and “same shit as always” and the family actually getting together and being an actual family

Not even the big family stuff either just the dumb little interactions

(posts for this au here: one, two, three, four, five, six)

Like Luther comes home from work, exhausted, walks in and the first thing he sees as he walks in is Diego standing at the open fridge drinking straight from the milk carton.

“Diego.” Luther states, halfway incredulous because come on, “Do I live in a frat house? There’s glasses in the cabinet to your right and I know you know that.”

“What do you know about frat houses?” Diego sneers, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, “Not like any of us went to college, ‘les they give out degrees in sucking up.”

Luther presses his hands together and touches them to his mouth for a second of patience. “Diego,” He starts over, “What are you doing here?”

“Babysitting.” Diego shrugs, placing the milk back in the fridge and closing the door. Luther makes a mental note to buy more if only so that he doesn’t have to share in Diego’s gross mouth germs.

He can’t contain it. “For fu - is this what you do at home Diego? Do you even own glasses?”

Diego shrugs again, not even disguising the grin across his face. He likes pushing Luther’s buttons, like the absolute dick he is. “Just saving you on some washing up, Luth.” Diego informs him cheerfully, moving to pass him and clapping him on the shoulder in faux friendliness.

Luther is about to make an very inadvisable movement (that movement being grabbing Diego and tossing him across the room and maybe pouring out the rest of the milk on top of his smug little - ) when Five pops into the room in a flash of blue.

“Luther!” Luther’s favorite brother greets him enthusiastically as Klaus stumbles out of his bedroom, brandishing a bottle of nail polish like a weapon. Judging from Five’s half-done fingers, it’s clear what they were up to. Luther has a feeling he’s going to end up with nail polish on his coat in a hot second.

It’s more of a surprise when Vanya walks out of the room as well, sporting electric blue painted nails and looking mildly uncomfortable. Of course, mildly uncomfortable is pretty much Vanya’s default state so Luther doesn’t think anything of it.

“Hello Five, hello Klaus.” Luther greets his roommates, smile plastered on his face, “Hello people who do not live here.”

“You need to get more eggs.” Diego tells him, not even looking abashed at Luther’s implied reprimand. Which, considering Diego procured a key weeks ago (which Luther did not give him) might be a little fair. It’s not like Diego isn’t invited maybe 25% of the time.

“Klaus called.” Vanya admits, “He said Diego was being boring and I needed to come over before someone was murdered. Probably Klaus, if we’re being honest.”

“Hey!” Klaus protests automatically, before tilting his head to acknowledge the point.

“Luther!” Five tugs at Luther’s coat insistently as he’s been doing pretty much since they walked out of the bedroom.

Well, time to pay attention to the little monster. Luther reaches down and swings his littlest brother up into his arms, earning a shriek even though it’s a familiar move at this point.

“Ooh! Me too, me too!” Klaus crowds closer, making grabby hands. Luther sighs deeply but obliges, swinging Klaus up and over his shoulder easily and earning another delighted shriek. Luther wonders what it would be like without his super strength. Wonders how the rest of the world manages.

He ignores Diego’s look as he makes his way over to the couch, swaying both his brothers from side to side as they try and grab at one another. It’s a little bit like trying to balance a very tall stack of books with a wine glass on top - difficult but not exactly impossible. They certainly don’t try make it easier on him.

Having had enough, Luther calmly dumps both of them onto the couch.

Vanya strolls over and plucks the bottle of nail polish out of Klaus’s hands, circling the couch and nudging him over so she can sit by Five where she wordlessly unscrews the cap and reaches out a hand for Five to put his into. Apparently it’s nail painting time again.

“What did you want, Five?” Luther asks, amused as he collapses into the big thrift store armchair with a quiet oof.

“What’s for dinner?” Five asks, rolling his eyes.

Diego groans, “Ugh, that’s all he’s been asking for like, an hour.”

“I’m a growing boy!” Five protests, jerking his hands and earning himself a scolding shush from Vanya as the nail polish smears. She uses the corner of one of her own nails to clean it up a little.

“Growing sideways,” Diego teases, reaching a hand out to ruffle Five’s hair. Unfortunately, it seems Five anticipated the move and Diego narrowly avoids the snap of Five’s teeth and the resulting shit eating grin.

“Luther!” Diego sounds scandalized, gesturing at their grinning brother as Klaus laughs quietly to himself.

“Children, behave.” Luther deadpans.

“That’s what they say when we’re together!” Klaus immediately sings at the top of his lungs, making Vanya wince away and give him a look. Klaus shrugs unapologetically and she rolls her eyes, turning her attention back to her task.

“We should liberate Luther’s records from the house.” Five says, looking thoughtful.

“No one’s going to the house.” Luther vetoes, again. It’s like Five is just looking for excuses these days to suggest exploring the house for things.

“Maybe when Dad’s dead.” Diego says, finally coming around the sofa to sit in the last remaining armchair. Luther winces and doesn’t respond. As much as he doesn’t see eye to eye with Reginald these days - there’s still a part of him that loves the old man, even if therapy is making him see more and more that the feeling wasn’t exactly returned.

“God,” Klaus sighs, throwing his head back dramatically, “If you had my powers you wouldn’t be wishing for the old man’s death, ugh.”

The family shares a collective wince as they remember that for Klaus, harassment from their father wasn’t exactly something that stopped with his death.

“Aw, don’t look so glum! Ben here has promised to be my guard chihuahua.” Klaus informs them all cheerfully after noticing the long faces. He turns his face to the side, where it’s probably Ben exists. “What? Chihuahuas have a great and noble history! You should be flattered! What? Wait, Ben, no - ”

The rest of the family decides to move on as Klaus devolves into a whispered half-conversation with their dearly departed sibling. It drives them all crazy that they can’t hear one half of the conversation.

“You never said what’s for dinner.” Five points out, just a little petulantly. Vanya gives him a gentle nudge as reprimand for moving too much, but she’s finishing up with the last nail anyway so it’s not terribly important.

Luther really doesn’t feel like cooking. Mainly because he’s really bad at it. He looks over at Vanya, who is the only person who has been keeping them all from eating like freshman college students and getting scurvy, but she’s studiously examining her job on Five’s nails. Clearly she doesn’t exactly feel like cooking, either.

“Chinese?” Luther offers, hopeful.

Five pulls a face, but Klaus brightens up, head snapping around from his little argument. Luther’s hope dies in his chest. Feeding their whole family is an adventure in juggling - how their Mom fed them all for so many years without snapping in half from bending over backwards to please everyone.

Then again, it’s not like any of them had the choice to refuse their food in their father’s house no matter personal preference. It was wolf it down regardless of taste or starve and potentially faint during training.

But there is one thing they can all agree on. t’s just a last resort because Luther is so very tired of having it every other night but hey, when needs must, right?

“Pizza?” Luther offers and everyone sort of nods and hums their agreement at that. Luther knows all of their orders by heart at this point. Even Diego “my body is a temple” Hargreeves doesn’t say no to pizza, usually.

“You know, we could make it slightly healthier and make our own?” Vanya points out, but it’s only halfhearted. “I heard you can make the crust with cauliflower or something.”

“You think we have cauliflower in this house?” Five asks with an arched eyebrow, and Vanya concedes the point. Luther feels almost offended at the implications about the state of health food in his place, but it’s also a fair point so. No like he can rebuff it.

“Pizza it is.” Luther states firmly before this can devolve into an actual debate on the state of their dinner.

He gets up to go grab his phone and can hear the sound of a fight breaking out behind him, Klaus’s voice being the loudest. Luther had so hoped Vanya sitting there would have prevented the inevitable but she was in on the shenanigans far more often than Luther would have expected.

(Sometimes he wondered what their childhoods would have looked like if Vanya had been more included. He had suspicions that she would have never been on his side in an argument, anyway.)

Luther shakes his head as he punches in the number for the pizza place. For a few minutes that mess in the living room is not his problem.

Of course, a few minutes of peace never lasts for very long. Not in this family.

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headcanon-baby · 6 years ago

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Can you do how to tell he’s in love with you with Alex Summers

how to tell if he’s in love with you? this dork??? Y E S

- this boi is 82731678210% more of a dick whenever you’re around and he’s literally on your ass the minute you open your mouth

- he says shit like “oh speak of the devil and she arrives”, “hey shorty, didn’t see you come in - oops, guess we all know why” and “whoa look what the cat dragged in today - oh wait it’s you”

- he says it all in that snarky, teasing way of his and sometimes you don’t know whether you should get turned on or kick him in the dick

- the thing is he doesn’t really know WHEN to tone down on the teasing and then it’s too late and you storm off and you can literally hear mystique slapping alex on the back of his head for being such a dumbass

- has never apologised a day in his fucking life but leaves a plate of cookies outside your door with a note that says, “i think i took it too far” which is the closest to an apology he’s ever going to make

- if you haven’t noticed, he likes giving you borderline insulting nicknames, “shorty” is a common one, followed by “loser” and “tiny”

- makes the stupidest excuses to sit next to you during meal times

- “alex why are you sitting there that’s my spot” “it’s so i can help this shorty here reach for the salad, duh” “alex the salad is right in front of her” “….i’m grounding you”

- tends to hang his arm around your shoulders without thinking too much about it

- gets antsy when he finds out you’re going out with your friends without him and he literally marches over to scott, grabs his shoulders and tells him to “fucking watch over her she’s useless without me” and scott is like “lmao sure trash brother”

- every time you’re training together he finds every opportunity to take off his shirt

- or flex

- or both

- you notice that he tends to hover over you like a ghost in group conversations. he doesn’t contribute much aside from the random quip or snark comment but he glares at anyone who tries to get too close to you and he just stands behind you like a protective bulldog waiting to attack

- you think it’s kinda cute

- for some ABOMINABLE reason, he likes waking you up at 5am. not for breakfast or anything but to fucking JOG FFS

- “wakey wakey eggs and bakey time to run you slob” “summers i swear to FUCK - ”

- alex looks and acts like a Jock almost 99% of the time but boy this man can COOK. after the jog he makes breakfast for you and you think it’s all a scam and he’s poisoned your eggs but he just looks at you abashed and just mutters, “I like cooking for people” and your heart just dies inside

- you think alex is some sort of magician especially that time when you’re with your friends and peter just looks around and is like, “your boyfriend not here today?”

- for some reason alex knows EXACTLY when to pop out of nowhere at that exact moment to deny everything with the biggest fuck off blush on his face

- sometimes you think he’s self-conscious because every time you enter the room he discreetly tries to fix his hair

- is a super POSSESSIVE FUCK. when you go out together with friends to the movies he makes sure to ask you every time whether you’re cold and even when you tell him your not he makes you wear his jacket anyway while glaring at peter who’s about to offer his

- “maximoff i swear to fuck if you -” “whoa calm down homeboy i was just about to offer storm mine no need to get your panties in a twist”

- scott discreetly tries to offer you hints that alex is in love with you but every time he opens his mouth alex dog tackles him into a bookshelf

- “hey you know my brother - ASDHAGGFALLKSL” “ha. ha. what were you about to say lil bro? oh hey shorty whats up with you” “ALEX SUMMERS YOU BROKE MY TEETH”

- yeets himself when his hand brushes against yours while you’re walking and everyone is just so exasperated because it’s literally a recurring gag that happens at least once a day

- “hey scott, don’t take this the wrong way, but I think your brother is whipped” “he’s been whipped since the day he met her what’s new”

- he likes picking you up

- no literally

- he just picks you out of mcfreaking nowhere. like in the middle of a conversation or you mention that you’re heading to bed he literally just fucking picks you up in his arms bridal style and runs the fuck away laughing with you while you’re gripping on him and screeching

- “do I even weigh anything to you???” “nope it’s like carrying a bunch of grapes”

- he’s amusingly pleased whenever you call him by his x-men alias

- “you got a kink for your superhero name, summers?” “hey back off it’s a cool name”

- whenever you’re hit on in public alex just scoffs and finds every single insult he can think of about you to deter the dude away

- “you shouldn’t do that, she probably hasn’t showered for a whole week”, “you really wanna date a girl you can’t see when she walks into the room? alright dude if your standards are that low”, “she puts milk before the cereal. you really gonna hit that?”

- has failed his confession about 6 times in six months. he chickens out before he can ever finish or gets an untimely interruption from someone in the house

- “okay so the mansion was gonna explode right? so I waltz in there like oh hey guys what’s up - OH sHIT ALEX wERE YOU ABOUT TO - ” “maximoff i swear to god”

- you think his heart is full of snark and wit until one day you find him intoxicated at the dinner table with charles and beast and mystique basically the Whole Gang™ completely red-faced and sulky and everyone is just laughing at him because he talks a lot of shit but he sure can’t take it

- “he’s had a bit too much to drink,” charles says politely as alex flat out sobs onto the table while beast pats him on the back

- alex just continues being emo until he sees your ass and he just. wobbles towards you and the first thing you know he’s giving you the biggest, bone-crushing hug you’ve ever had and mumbling like an idiot

- beast is about to intervene until you wave him off and you silently drag alex back to his bedroom and the whole time he’s just moaning and sobbing and telling you how nice your hair smells and you’re just smh

- and then out of curiosity you pop The Question™ and he answers so fast it gives you whiplash

- “hey alex, do you like me?” “h-h-huh???? like you?? n-nah i love you loser” “wait what”

- he doesn’t let you leave the bedroom even after you tuck him in and turn the lights off and he makes you sit by his bed and hold his hand to sleep and sweet fucking jesus he even pulls out the puppy dog eyes no you and you’re like gdi

- and then out of nowhere he starts to drunkenly babble about his past, telling you all about how scared he was when he got drafted for war, how close he became to getting experimented on because of his x-gene and how fucking terrified he was at the thought of not being able to come back to the mansion and see everyone again

- he pulls your hand against his face and he just. BREAKS down crying and confesses that he sometimes dreams of losing you in the war and it scares the shit out of him

- it takes awhile for you to calm him down, rubbing his hand with yours in comfort until alex pulls you closer to him and grips your hand until he’s shaking and asks

- “d-do you t-think i’ll e-ever have a chance w-with you in t-this lifetime?”

- and being the fucking impulsive piece of shit you are you lean into him and grab his face and give him the softest, sweetest kiss you’ve ever given anybody and he just stares at you giddily touching his lips blown out of his mcfreaking mind

- “ask me again tomorrow when you’re sober, dork”

- he does

aaaaaand i’m done. sorry i haven’t been taking requests! been hella busy and dying and i just got out of hospital so kEK

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parttwoactuallywrites · 6 years ago

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If you're still taking requests for bad things happen bingo, how about Virgil x Mel + natural disaster? - theportalwedeserve

@theportalwedeserve

ahslkdjfhlHLKJASHDLFKJH I was considering reposting that bingo card so people might consider requesting, but this came at a really good time!! Thanks a million for asking!!!!

Some quick notes before I start - This is my first shot at writing both Virgil AND Mel, and honestly? I have no idea how I did, so feedback from those who actually have written these guys/know more about them then I do/ etc. is always appreciated! Sorry if it’s not quite up to snuff! Secondary sorry that this took so long, I wrote this during my study-breaks for my midterms (which start this Thursday and I’m ahsdkfjhsjf). This was also originally gonna be WAY shorter but I’m a mess lmao.

This fic is best enjoyed listening to Gymnopedie No. 1 and Cherche La Rose on loop. Sorry this wasn’t angstier, I wanted to write some comfy stuff ‘cause it’s cold out.

The two of them were always regarded as an oddball couple, woodsy folk who lived a mile or so out of town in a little log-cabin they’d built themselves with the extra hands of whoever wanted to help - which was, evidently, the entirety of the little community of Laurel River.

It made sense, at least to Virgil. Though he couldn’t help but think of himself as the most “other” person there - Hah, I’m calling myself a person, now. - he seemed to fit right in. Hard workers with practical genius and warmth he’d never seen down in the salt mines. He supposed you had to be a certain kind of person to work at Aperture, and those types didn’t have a predisposition to warmth, now did they?

Speaking of, the warmth was only really metaphorical. The weather hadn’t gotten above freezing in weeks, the days got shorter and shorter, and with no real work that could get done with the ground and the river frozen, the town and its inhabitants got rather sleepy.

A cold, cold wind blew over a mostly-empty town square as Virgil stepped into the little general store for the groceries.

“Hey, Lil,” Virgil said, closing the door behind him as softly as he could.

“Hello to you too, Virgil! How’s the weather out there?” Lily asked, without turning around. She was an older woman, soft spoken and gentle. She made lovely bouquets in the summer and spring, with a garden to kill or die for.

“Bad,” He said, pulling his neatly folded list out of his pocket, “Cold, windy, cloudy.”

“Oh dear,” She said, still re-organizing the things behind the counter, “Well that sounds about right. There’s supposed to be a storm coming, a big blizzard. First of the season.”

Blizzard.

Virgil knew what those were, knew that they were big screw-off storms with strong wind and snow that made it so you couldn’t see your hand in front of your face. He knew that blizzards took down trees and power lines and covered up solar panels in a foot-and-a-half of snow. Sounded like a recipe for losing power, or worse, their house getting destroyed.

He frowned, one by one grabbing the things off the shelves and putting them into a canvas bag he’d gotten when he first came into town. Flour, sugar, milk, eggs, brussels sprouts, carrots, leek, butternut squash, ‘any herbs you can get your hands on’…

He put the worry out of his mind. The clearing the cabin sat in was far enough away that a few trees coming down wouldn’t be a terrible issue. The house kept the heat well and he’d be willing to trudge a ways into the woods for more firewood if they lost power and ran out. They could camp out in the living room and snuggle to stay warm, or maybe…

Well, that assumed either of them would be willing to get their clothes off. Unlikely, given the predicted circumstances, but a nice thought nonetheless.

Virgil set his things down on the front counter one by one, lost in his unlikely-but-still-nice-thoughts about the days to come, just the two of them, snowed in together.

“Name the kid after me,” Lily said with a pleasant smile.

“Wha- Good lord, Lil!”

She laughed, took the money from the counter and handed him back a few bucks in change. “Seriously, you kids be safe, and don’t you hesitate to come to town if something happens.”

“We’ll be sure of it. Thanks, Lily.” He slowly loaded all his things into his bag.

“Any time, Virgil. Have a nice evening, honey.”

He pushed the door open, waving as he walked out. “You too!”

And then once more he was out in the cold. A gust of wind blew in his face, stinging his eyes and making them water. That might be the only thing he missed about being a core, his fantastic inability to feel most external stimuli, and with that, his inability to feel the cold stiffening his fingers, making him regret not wearing his gloves.

It was gonna be a long trudge home.

Virgil came home a few minutes out from frostbite as the sun was starting to set. He huffed as he gently set down the bag on the floor by the front door, kicked off his shoes carelessly, and wondered how long it’d take before his ears stopped burning and feeling returned to his face.

The smell of bread wafted through their small home, coupled by hot cocoa floating in beside it.

“Making something, Mel?”

She hummed. “You were taking a mighty long time out there,” She said, moving through the kitchen slowly, leisurely. “Thought it might be nice to come home to something hot to drink.”

“You’re my savior, you know that, right?”

Mel giggled. “You’ve said so on more than one occasion.” She set two cups down on their modest kitchen table, filling them with the cocoa. “What’s the news from in town?”

“We’ve got a blizzard coming in,” He said, walking towards her “That’ll be your first snow in over a hundred years!”

“It’ll be your first snow ever.” She handed him a cup of cocoa and leaned back against the kitchen counter to drink the other herself.

He took it in both hands, taking a long sip, letting the sweet drink warm him. “Mmm… This is good.”

“Thank you.”

“But personality cores are based on, well… Personalities. They were all people, once, including me,” Virgil said, “Don’t remember any of it, but I bet you I saw snow back then.”

“I still don’t get how you’re supposed to pour a person into a box, and then have that box… Do things,” She said, flatly.

“Mel, we own a computer.”

“Yeah, and I like it, but that doesn’t mean I understand it. Last I checked, TV’s were the size of our oven and only played blurry and in black and white. It’s just after the apocalypse, and we got color and crystal-clear pictures.”

Virgil shrugged. “Fair point.”

The storm came early that morning, before first light of dawn and well before either of them woke. Virgil vaguely remembered sleepily arguing for Mel to stay in bed, to sleep another hour or two with him, before being given a pillow to hug instead as she went about her morning without him. She only actually woke him up some time later, gently shaking him awake to a dark bedroom.

“Power’s out, Virgil,” Mel said, “Virgil, wake the hell up.”

“Huh?”

“The power’s-” Mel was cut off by a clap of thunder that rattled through the small house, startling Virgil fully awake.

“What the fuck-” Virgil shot up in bed, grabbing Mel’s hands almost instinctively for support.

“Looks like it’s a thundersnow,” Mel said thoughtfully.

“A what?”

Another clap of thunder, accompanied by a flash of lightning. Virgil yelped in surprise, this time, earning him a comforting hand on his shoulder from Mel. “You alright?”

“Fine!” He squeaked, “Just fine.”

“Well, the power’s out,” She said, “So if we’re gonna make breakfast, it’ll have to be over the fireplace.”

“Do you need a hand with that?” He kicked his legs over the edge of bed, planting his feet on the ground and stretching up.

“I can get the fire set up and all that-” Mel cringed as his back cracked.

“Sorry.”

“Not a problem, not a problem,” She said, dismissively. “Could you make that stew of yours, though?”

Oh. The stew. He’d made it over the fireplace, once or twice before, with decent success. Not that it was particularly difficult to make, more or less a “sear some stuff and then leave it alone for three hours” type of situation.

He wanted to say no, anyways. Last time he did it, he burned his wrist on the pot and he still had a little scar from it. It was dangerous and difficult to cook over the fireplace, but Mel looked so hopeful and she loved that stew…

“Yeah, alright,” He said, “I can do that.”

Mel sweeped him up into a hug, pressing kisses to his face indiscriminately. “You’re the best,” She said, after landing one right on his eyelid, “Easily the best.”

“That’s high praise coming from my savior.”

When he actually got a chance to look outside, it was a little astonishing. He could hear the wind whistling almost constantly, or the odd clap of thunder in the distance, but he had no idea just how nasty it was, out there.

The world was covered in a haze of white, he couldn’t see the trees of the backwoods or the river that ran through the area they designated as their backyard. It was almost spooky, like the house itself had been isolated from the rest of the world.

He turned his attention back to the cutting board, back to cutting the vegetables they had on hand. Mel was curled up on the couch in their modest living room, warm and cozy by the fire she’d just started, reading something by the soft light of the window.

Yeah, burning his arm again would be worth it, if it came to that. Definitely. Mel worked too hard, too long, too sustained almost constantly. She had no ‘off’ switch, though, he supposed, that is what got them out of Aperture and into town in the first place.

Virgil dropped the vegetables into the almost cauldron-like cooking pot, letting them sizzle satisfyingly. The browned meat sat in a little bowl next to the pot, along with all the stock anyone could ever need. He absentmindedly stirred things around, more aware of Mel’s contented humming than he was his own hands.

Luckily, he didn’t burn himself, this time.

As if on auto-pilot, he put everything left in the pot, one by one, with the exception of the random assortment of root vegetables he’d throw in towards the end. He poured in the stock, covered the pot, and turned to Mel, who opened her blanket and patted the spot next to her.

“Kept your seat warm for you.” She said, grinning.

“Think I could stand to take a nap?”

“I’ll wake you up in two hours,” She said, “Stew smells great, by the way.”

“Thanks, love,” Virgil said, grabbing an extra blanket and curling himself up next to her, falling asleep in her lap.

Virgil woke up to the smell of stew and the sound of bowls being shifted around in the kitchen.

“Mel?” He called to nowhere in particular. Did I wake up in time to add the parsnip?

“You didn’t wake up, I handled the rest of it,” She said, almost reading his mind, “Stew’s done, if you’re hungry.” She handed him a bowl, as he sat up, complete with a piece of toast with butter. She dug in without waiting, putting a spoonful in her mouth and sighing with pleasure. “Christ, this is good…”

He looked down into his bowl, contemplative.

The world was scary, wasn’t it? Terrifying. There was a blizzard out there that could’ve probably killed him, back when he was a core, that would’ve definitely killed him if he was out there, now.

But he wasn’t.

He was warm and safe, in his own home, just him and Mel. Larger than that, they came off the heels of a war, and they were better for it. Would Laurel River have helped them build their home, been so kind as to open their doors for them before the war?

He didn’t think so. From what Mel said about the world, back then, they’d have had white picket fences up and would’ve judged ‘em both for how they dressed and acted, when things were ‘improper’ - whatever that meant.

He couldn’t help but thank the maker that he was alive, really alive, then. In his home, with the love of his life, safe and warm and eating stew.

He ripped off a small piece of bread and dunked it into the stew, taking his first bite before it went cold.

She was right, it was pretty good.

#portal #portal stories: mel #mel/virgil #i don't know their ship name #so anyone who does #lemme know please!!#bad things happen bingo #parttwoactuallywrites #virmel

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