#and we call dice by his full title lmao | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yourfinalbow · 3 years

Text

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.

---

“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)

17 notes · View notes

latin-dr-robotnik · 4 years

Text

Sonic and the Mayhem Master (Full Fix Update Part 1) - Personal thoughts!

So, if you have followed this blog for a while, you might have caught wind of a few things that I like, from music to series to videogames and, specially, Sonic fangames.

No, I’m not here to talk about Sonic ATS once again, but I’m going to talk about another very nice fangame I’ve been following for at least two years (my Spanish blog had more info about it though): Sonic and the Mayhem Master.

The last time I reported on this project was during my SAGE 2019 coverage, which... didn’t set the world on fire, let’s put it that way. There were two main demos back then, and after that, we recently got more updates from author Trinitroid. The “Full Fix Update” as he calls it’s the latest show of progress, but it’s currently split in two parts, with part two yet to be released as we speak.

What’s in store for the Full Fix Update? Well, a lot, actually.

First of all, Trinitroid claims around 70% of the old bugs have been squashed, and I can confirm that stuff like UI scaling (present on all previous demos) are no longer a problem to me. Other stuff, like deaths bugging the game progress are still an issue, but the author is aware, and I do believe there’s more to love about this update past technical issues. Let’s also remember that this is still a heavy WIP, and even the first text screen when you boot up the game tells you about how this is more of a “playtesting demo”.

The biggest thing about this update is the content available to play through. You can now explore a longer part of the first chapter of the game, “Lamp of the Deadly Mist”, while also tinker around with the basic gameplay systems in place, something that the author says he wants to focus on first, before continuing with the story and his more ambicious ideas. I did explain some of the basic ideas behind the plotline on my last report about the game, so I’ll assume you know at least what’s going on and why Sonic and Amy look and feel so different to their canon counterparts.

The first part of the Full Fix Update lets us play through the first part (lmao) of Sonic and Detective Amy’s first assignment on the city’s power plant, meeting some different robots (some friendly and others not so much) along the way, and even interacting with different parts of the environment that give some nice additional text and some funny comments like this one. I always enjoyed this new steampunk-Sonic universe Trinitroid is creating, and the different exchanges along the way are still a highlight of the project. Amy is such a savage in this game, lol.

Like what you’ve come to expect of a RPG, this game’s dialog has a good amount of charm and, should you choose to interact with most stuff along the way, can give you a healthy amount of backstory and development. There is a part where the story kinda breaks up and picks up again in a fourth wall breaking “Sorry I haven’t finished this section yet” dev message, yet it’s done in such a fun way it works very well this early in the dev process.

Also, many, many references. Won’t spoil you on them, but there are some pretty cool references sparked here and there.

How does it play, though?

As with each demo, the author keeps on improving the basic gameplay systems that will power the entire adventure. This is a RPG game... with a twist. Instead of passively taking on turns and carefully thinking about each step, Mayhem Master takes a more active approach, as you have you keep dodging the enemy’s attacks and building your MP meter for a few seconds, until they overheat and you have a small window to decide: do you spent your MP points attacking the enemy? Do you heal yourself? Do you decide to power yourself up with a random permanent boost? Do you skip your turn (granting you a MP boost for the next turn)? Or do you simply roll the dice hoping to land on a 50-50 change to flee from battle? You only have so much time to think before your turn is over, and the game will ask you to multitask as you make quick reactions. Even though I kinda miss the old, card deck based battle system, the current one works a lot better in terms of creativity and possibilities, according to the author.

I need to also add that the difficulty curve isn’t yet in place as of this update, and it’s something that Trinitroid fully acknowledges, so things can take a while to get used to, and difficulty spikes will happen to you as you play. Still, I do think this approach to combat could make it a very big selling point, should Trinitroid’s wishes to make this a different indie game out of this in the future come to fruition. So far we have only seen a very small enemy selection, but every single one of them has their own battle quirks, and some of them can get wacky very fast, so don’t underestimate them. The only thing they lack is maybe to make some comments in-fight, but I don’t think that’s a priority, and it could potentially distract you from the actual battle. Just sayin’.

So, that’s where things stand right now. I started covering this game around two years ago, and I'm rather happy to see it still coming along, no matter how fast or slow updates may come. Back in 2018, I remember pointing out the unique art style and premise of this game, and the fact it took the RPG route, as I was going through a “Hey, we need more Sonic RPG games” phase. As the second part of the Full Fix Update looms on the horizon, I’ll start to pick up my coverage efforts, because I really like what I’m seeing and I want more people to talk about it. Who knows, we may be on the brink of something special, be it for a Sonic fangame or for a future indie title.

So, give this one a shot, be wary of technical issues along the way, and maybe we can talk more about it, what do you say?

#sonic the hedgehog #sonic fangames #sonic and the mayhem master #amy rose #also trinitroid why do you say people hated your designs?#i mean i think they are very cool #i'm always down for new takes on characters i already love #but well #i'll be playing more of this update as i look for more stuff #maybe grab better screenshots of the more funny moments #i was already posting some of them here

3 notes · View notes

2towels · 7 years

Text

Roll Check [V:LD]

A Voltron: Legendary Defender fic, Klance.

Theme: DnD AU, KlanceWeek2017

Pairings Klance (Keith/Lance)

Rating: Rated E for Everyone, swear warning

Words Total: 2128

Tags: mutual pining, living vicariously through dungeons and dragons characters, dungeons and dragons dating lmao, lots of dialogue

Summary:

"Wait," Keith paused in their conversation, gesturing towards Lance with a loose hand while the other crossed over his chest. "You DM?"

---

Lance reveals a part of his backstory to Keith, who doesn't want to go through with his destiny.

Klance Week 2017 Day 2: Sacrifice

Alternate Title: Shut up and ask him out roll the dice

Read on AO3 (please)

The tense silence ended with Allura's deep breath, signaling the relaxation of everyone around the table. The Galra were reestablished as horrible, but at least they had delivered their bounty and received their reward. That was all they could ask for, with a campaign as long and exhausting as the ones carved by their current dungeon master.

"Thank space it's over." Pidge mourned, standing with a startling screech being made from the chair below her. "Allura's not allowed to DM for at least three Shiro-level campaigns. I'm done."

Shiro blanched. "I'm not doing three campaigns in a row, before any of you ask. My next one isn't ready, so who wants to step up?" He asked, mentally ticking off all he needed to do to properly prepare for the next adventure he had lined up. Without warning, his gaze shifted to Keith expectantly, who immediately tensed.

The reaction wasn't missed by the rest of the group, Allura especially. "Have you written something up, Keith?"

Shiro smiled encouragingly, but Keith didn't seem receptive of the notion. "Sure." The younger brother conceded slowly. "I could...you know." His nose scrunched and he looked back up at the group. There was no nervousness in his tone, but he certainly seemed disinterested.

Lance, from across the table, watched the scrunch of his nose with overt interest.

"Excellent. We'll meet at Shiro and Keith's place, then?" Allura asked for confirmation, folding her partition and stacking books as the rest of the table followed suit with their clean up.

Shiro nodded and answered for them, Keith distracted by his listless gathering of his own character notes. "That sounds fine. We'll text the group chat with any change of plans, but remember guys: we don't provision as well as Coran, so make sure you bring some of your favorite snacks on your own."

Together, Hunk and Lance grumbled, but they were ignored. As the rest of the table stood, Lance wandered off to find Coran, calling for a space juice order for the next week to hold them over. Hunk eyed his friend from behind with a true disdain, unable to fathom his ability to consume the syrupy product.

"Keith, you'll be okay, right?" Shiro asked quietly, glancing at his watch, "You're not too tired to ride?"

He huffed in response, noting the time himself. "I'll be fine, Shiro. I'll see you at home." Despite having so few papers and items to pack up, he took his time pulling on his coat while Shiro left, lingering if only to keep conversation steady with his closest friends while they were all gathered.

"I'm bringing my new documentaries for you next week, Keith. Later!" Pidge and Matt were the next to leave, tending to carpool despite their different living situations, and Allura patiently lingered in her dining room with her stacked books while the remaining guests shuffled around. When Lance wandered back from the kitchen to his awaiting best friend and the shuffling Keith and Allura, he was humming pleasantly and moving to finally gather his things.

Hunk was slightly dismayed at his friend's lingering, tire easy to see in the yawn he released loudly. "Hurry up, Lance." He bemoaned, watching his friend's disorganization.

"I'll give him a ride home." Keith blurted out, "If you want to head out, Hunk."

Lance, weirdly hesitant, flicked his eyes up towards Hunk. A moment passed of silence, and after, Lance's thin shoulders shrugged. "Alright then." Hunk said, a weird emphasis on his words, "I'll see you at home, Lance. Night, Allura! See ya, Keith." He moseyed to the door and tossed a wave over his shoulder, casting another meaningful glance to Lance before exiting fully and shutting the door behind him.

"Well." Allura hummed, "Lance, you know the house as good as any. Lock the door behind you and don't let the cats out. I'm off to sleep."

Keith watched their newly retired dungeon master wander away into the home, flicking the light dimmer off as she passed the switch, and took a deep breath. He was oddly calm, knowing he was being shoved opportunities by the dozens through his friends these days, but he didn't feel the need to follow through with their implications when he was so unsure, truthfully, of what he was doing in this situation. Lance was fine with being left alone, or so he seemed cheerful to pretend so, waving enthusiastically at Allura's retreating back and calling out, "Night, princess!"

A beat passed of Lance finishing his personal item gathering. "So," He said, "Giving me a ride, huh, Mullet?"

Keith bristled in response, feeling the pull of the bait and jumping at it anyway. "Yup. Hunk looked tired, you should stop joking around after games when he's had a bad run. It makes him mope and complain."

"That's just Hunk." Lance laughed, throwing his head back a little, "And he ignores my moping and complaining all the time, so I think that's fair."

"You're admitting you mope and complain constantly, then?" Keith challenged, maneuvering to the door and holding it open for his companion.

A snort came from him as he passed, lingering outside the door so Keith could come out and he could lock it behind them. "Excuse you. I'll admit I'm whiny when you admit you're emo and love that job at Hot Topic."

There was the bait he could actually resist. With a shrug, Keith shut the door behind him and descended the few steps that led from Coran's home to the street. "It pays the bills for now."

"It does not ." Lance gaped, "You love all the dramatic music and spinney racks of gauges and belly rings. That's the only reason you stay."

"You're right." He responded seriously, watching as Lance fiddled with his keys and twisted at the locks quickly. "I can't wait to put my gauges in."

Lance did a double take, not able to discern the tone Keith was using. "You're not getting gauges. Your mullet would get all clogged in the holes." He challenged, stepping down to meet him face to face, "And you would just look more like Red, proving you are a self-insert."

Unable to stop himself from retaliation towards comments on his dungeons and dragons character, Keith huffed, knowing full well his potato chip breath was fanned directly into Lance's general line of scent. He sputtered accordingly while Keith took another half-step closer. "I'm no more Red than you are Azulle." Keith accused, keeping his eyes steady with the finer gaze of his self-proclaimed rival.

Something seemed to shift with Lance in their proximity. "You know," He said, voice a little softer, "I'm actually pretty disappointed Red hasn't proposed yet. That's what you're doing, right? You can't keep me in suspense forever, here, Keithy."

"Don't call me that." Keith's flush was immediate, their positions intensified when he thought of how far he'd gotten in his character's adoration for Lance's. "Red will propose when he's ready."

A soft gasp. "So he will propose?" Lance asked gleefully, face falling as Keith stepped away. "I mean, if that's what Azulle wants, Red would probably know. He's pretty intuitive, like I keep telling you guys." Keith took another deep breath as he headed towards his bike as casually as he could.

Lance fell into step behind him easily. "That's true, but not when it comes to Azulle. Remember when they first kissed? Red has no idea what Azulle wants, like, ever. He just knows he wants to do it. Which is the sweet part." A wistful tone carried into the lankier boy's words, "They just want to make each other happy. What have you got in store for the party without Red next week? No more angsty knife hunt for now, I guess."

Keith turned suddenly, almost bumping into his shadow of a friend and leaning back against his bike to feign casualty again while he spoke. "It's a really basic dungeon. I know I can DM because I used to do it for Shiro and Matt between their competitive complicated backstory campaigns, but I..." A frustrated noise bubbled from his throat, and he was surprised to hear Lance's hum of understanding.

"You don't want to. You're a simple guy, Keith. I like that." In the dim moonlight, there was the smallest hint of color on Lance's cheeks, but he carried on, "Yeah, I always feel like I'm not doing anything right when I DM, so I haven't done it since the group became the whole group, you know? I can only imagine between Shiro's sad shitshow of tragedy and Matt's eternal moral quests that you just don't like to break into those types of stories. Oh, man, especially since you're the follow up to Allura's fallen kingdom story. Damn, that one was good. Did you see me crying an hour ago? I was hoping it wasn't obvious, but man...That was brutal."

"She's really bent on painting the Galra dirty." Keith commented quietly after Lance visibly realized he had rambled a little, shoulders bunching. "But yeah...I'm more so into the actual playing. I know I can do it, but it's not my thing."

Lance shrugged and moved to lean next to Keith on the bike gently. "It is what it is. You'll do fine, especially because Pidge complains the most besides me and she only wants a quest to move forward. You'll definitely meet that criteria if you're a hothead DM as much as you are a player."

"Wait," Keith paused in their conversation, gesturing towards Lance with a loose hand while the other crossed over his chest. "You DM?"

Soft blinking replied, and the dim hint of color came to his cheeks again. "Yeah. Blumfump taught me officially, actually, and I did campaigns with Pidge and Hunk mostly, but that's how I met Plaxum and Swirn and them in the first place." After a quiet second, he added, "I actually saw you, Shiro, and Matt at the Post playing a few years ago...Pidge caught me staring and that's how I met her. Then Blumfump eavesdropped and started forcing all the information about the game on me. Fun times."

"We haven't played at the Post in ages." Keith nodded, remembering back when they used the store-provided resources before they had all the books of their own. Coran had aided their collection, for sure, in the end. "You should DM next week." He said decidedly.

" What ?" An uncharacteristic squeak came to Lance's voice as he glanced fast at Keith's serious expression. "It's your turn, man."

"No. I don't actually have anything ready. Shiro just volunteered me because he knew I can throw things together last minute. You're really good at weaving stuff together, though, and I know you help Allura all the time, even when she isn't realizing it. You DM. We can still do it at my house." Keith explained, crossing his arms a little tighter when he realized the dampness of his palms.

"You don't have to sacrifice your DM moment just because you know I've done it before." The reluctant boy huffed, swinging his leg onto the bike at last, "You might never get a chance again. You know Shiro and Allura keep plots lined up months in advance. Allura would have started another tonight if Pidge hadn't been so salty about her new Dwarven pot."

Keith slid into the space on the bike in front of him, passing a spare helmet Hunk must have left on the handlebars to Lance as he pulled on his own. "I'm not sacrificing anything." He rolled his eyes, unable to fathom the concept of it being such a loss. Almost hesitantly, he added, "We can...do it together, if you want."

"Co-DM?" Lance scoffed but paused as soon as the sound had left him. "Well. Okay."

"Really?" Keith twisted in his seat just as Lance wrapped his arms around him, causing a proximity unprecedented by the physical contact. Realizing the intimacy as soon as it occurred, Lance flinched, but stubbornly did not move his hands from Keith's front. This close, and so focused on the other boy, Keith could clearly see all the color rushing to Lance's cheeks in a rosy bloom. "We can—" He swallowed, realizing his voice was thick and Lance was too close, "We can plan at my house sometime this week if you want."

"You have to let me know when you're not stuck in Emo City." Lance said, slow and quiet. The jab at Keith's job was lost as Keith gave a slight nod and turned again. His hand hovered over both of Lance's on his midsection before he seemed to right himself, feeling the bike rumble to life underneath them and blazing forward to take their new dungeon master home.

10 notes · View notes

kweebtrash · 7 years

Text

Celebrate

YoongixReader (M)

Words: 6k+

Features: Bestfriend!AU, squirting, sex toys Summary: Yoongi celebrates his best friends birthday and gives her naughty presents that spark a night of debauchery. Mostly pwop (theres a small plot lol) A/N: Lmao this title sucks, but I was supposed to finish this for Yoongi’s birthday but my lazy ass did not. But I’ve been working on this for weeks and I’m really happy about it! I tried to mimic first-time awkwardness a bit and general bestie fun. Hope Ya’ll like it! Also still need a beta! Inspired by x

“Hey, I’m here.”

You pinned your cell phone between your ear and shoulder scoffing as you held out a dress in front of you. “What?! I’m not even ready yet!”

Yoongi’s irritated voice came from the other line. “Ready? For what? We’re not even going anywhere! You’re the one who said you didn’t want to go out because of work tomorrow.”

“I know, I know!” You replied, annoyed at the scolding he was giving you. You yanked a shirt from your closet, holding it up to your chest and examining how it looked in the full-length mirror, before tossing it aside. “I want to at least look presentable.”

“Y/N, I’ve seen you in sweatpants, bent over a toilet with vomit in your hair. I think we can get over presentable.” You heard the sound of a rustling bag and a small grunt before Yoongi continued. “I’m coming upstairs, bye!”

Rolling your eyes, you pressed the red end call button and tossed your cell phone onto the bed. There was no point in arguing with your best friend. He was just about as stubborn as you were. The true reason you wanted to look nice was because, well for one, he was coming over and two, he always looked so stylish. Yoongi’s style was fashion forward yet effortless, looking like he stepped out of an issue of GQ. He was a pretty boy in every sense of the word. Whenever you would hang out with him people would turn their heads and stare. Even high school girls would giggle obnoxiously and take pictures. You always felt like a hobo next to him so you compensated by trying to dress to the nines every time you two were together.

But Yoongi was right- you had said that you just wanted to stay home for your 21st birthday. It had fallen on a weekday this year and of course, you had to get up and go to work the next day. Besides, you and Yoongi’s 6 other friends would be dragging you out on the weekend to a club for a night of debauchery. You couldn’t do it twice in one week, though. Yoongi, however, continuously insisted that you do something on your actual birthday day and had planned something. You just hoped it wasn’t anything too extravagant. Sighing, you trudged to the front door to unlock it so Yoongi would have no problem getting in, before retreating back to your room to find something else to wear. Something that was more relaxed and casual and wasn’t your pj pants or didn’t have a one-year-old pizza sauce stain on them.

Making your way to the dresser you bent down to open the last drawer where you stashed your dozens of leggings, trying to decide between plain black or black with patterns. A very tough choice indeed.

“Well damn the full moon is out tonight!” You heard him say. He slapped the lace elastic band of your thong and laughed. You jumped up, yelping and covering your backside, shocked that he had come up so quickly.

“Dammit, Yoongi! Cut it out!”

He chuckled and sat down on the bed, leaning back on his arms. “Lace panties? Is that all for me?” He smirked.

You rolled your eyes at his crude joke. Your comfort barrier was indeed lowered when he was around you. Both of you had gotten sick and tired of people always asking you two if you were a couple. Yoongi of course, being the little shit he is, just took to saying yes, purposefully saying sexually explicit things and flirting with you just to make the nosy people uncomfortable. For years it had made you laugh, and it still did, but sometimes it made your cheeks flush and your heart flutter just a little bit too much to your liking. You still joked with him nonetheless, covering up your feelings and hoping you weren’t too obvious.

“Oh yeah, definitely for you, daddy.” You chuckled and shimmed into your selected leggings.

“Oh, I’m daddy now, huh? That’s a new one.”

He smiled from ear to ear, that same dorky smile that never failed to make you laugh. Your eyes met in the mirror attached to your dresser, holding each other’s gaze for a moment. You noticed his eyes trailing lower, resting at the flirtatious lace bra you wore. There was only a small space between your breast, the padded cups pushing them up and together. You couldn’t really blame him for looking as it made your tits look damn good. But did he really have to stare so intently, especially when he was biting his lip in concentration? God, that always killed you. “You gonna stop drooling over there, loverboy?” You asked, pulling a tank top over your torso, before giving his shoulder a hard whap to snap him out of it.

He blinked quickly, crashing back down to reality. A rather nervous giggle escaped him. “Took you long enough to pick an outfit. I was about to fall asleep!”

“Oh, you liar! You were staring at me with that fuckboy look on your face.”

He put his hand over his chest feigning being hurt. “I take offense! Maybe you won’t get your present.”

“Present?” Your ears perked up at the sound of the word and your eyes caught sight of the bag by his feet. “Yoongi, you didn’t have to!”

A smirk crossed his face. “Whatever. You say that every year but I know you’re expecting something.”

“I am not!” You snatched the bag from beside him with an excited grin on your face. “You really didn’t have to, though.”

Yoongi shrugged nonchalantly. “You always get me nice stuff for my birthday so I feel like I should go above and beyond for you.”

He was literally the sweetest person (when he wanted to be anyway). Only he would go out of his way to do something so nice for you. You were stunned at his thoughtfulness. It was the reason why you loved him so much. Love-that word lingered in your thoughts as you pulled out the messily wrapped box from the bag. You fingers shook slightly as you peeled the wrapper away, eyes turning wide when the present came into view.

“YOONGI!” you screamed, tossing the box at him.

He threw his head back, cackling while still trying to defend himself from your attacks. You jumped onto him, playfully slapping his shoulders. “You got me a damn vibrator?!”

“Yeah! Then-” he tried to catch his breath from all the laughter. “Then you can stop being so damn grumpy and violent all the time!” He grabbed your wrists and pinned them to your sides while you straddled his chest.

“I can’t fuckin’ believe you!” You struggled against his hold trying to shield him from seeing the rush of color that now decorated your cheeks and tips of your ears.

“But wait-!” He said dramatically. “There’s more!”

Rolling your eyes, you dug your knees into his rib cage trying to get him to let go. “You really are asking for it, aren’t you?” You growled.

He coughed, letting your hands go and tapping your thigh signaling his defeat. “It’s your 21st birthday! Live it up a little! Destress, fuck yourself senseless because we all know your past boyfriends-and girlfriend- haven’t.”

Well…he got you there. You hadn’t had the best string of relationships in the past couple of years. Everything happened during high school so it wasn’t like those were real relationships anyway. Just a couple of kids pretending they were adults. Awkwardly exploring each other’s body was cute for a minute but getting older meant you were missing out on something good. Lately, you hadn’t really had time to yourself since you and Yoongi had gotten the job at the production studio. Not to mention your tiny pocket rocket had been on its last leg after years of abuse. Maybe the stupid vibrator wasn’t such a bad gift after all. But you weren’t going to let him know that. Now way in hell.

“C’mon, look at the rest of the gifts. They’re good. I promise.” He said with a devilish smirk which only meant that you were in for more trouble. With a sigh, you slid off him and grabbed the bag from the floor. Digging through the excessive amount of tissue paper you found 3 cheesy pornos, a tiny packet of clitoral stimulation gel, and a pair of neon green glow-in-the-dark sex dice. You gave him what had got to be your best “what the absolute fuck” face and it just restarted another fit of laughter. Tears formed at the corner of his eyes as he wiped them away and tried to regain his composure.

“Okay, okay so the website I got this off of had this special- free shipping with surprise gifts. Surprise!”

Your face remained the same, unamused by his laughing fits. He took the dice from your hands and rolled them on the floor. “Don’t you wanna-” he looked to see what each die had landed on. “Lick foot? Oooh that’s sexy right?”

He reached his sock clad foot out to poke your tummy gently and your serious facade was broken. “You are the absolute worse, you know that?” You chuckled and waved his foot away from you. You decided to join in on the fun by picking out one of the DVDs and giving it the once over. “Want to watch one of these things and see how awkward and fake it is?”

He sat up and shrugged. “Why the hell not? We can order pizza, my treat, birthday girl.”

“Hell yeah, it better be your treat.” You kissed his cheek appreciatively, grateful for his thoughtful albeit absurd gifts. It was already turning out to be much better than going out to a bar and getting annoyed by strangers. You headed over to the decent sized flat screen opposite of your bed and selected the DVD called “Island Paradise.” You opened the port on your Playstation 4 and set the DVD in, the sight of Yoongi leaving the room momentarily caught in your peripheral vision. You hoped to god there weren’t any more sex toy surprises but knowing Yoongi there was probably a stripper waiting to pop out a cake somewhere.

You heard him rustling through the kitchen but you continued setting up the movie, grabbing your controller and hitting X. “Yoongi, this cinematic masterpiece is about to begin!” you called out.

You turned towards the doorway about ready to go find him in the kitchen but a small flame stopped you. The first few notes of happy birthday filled your eardrums as Yoongi appeared holding a simple cupcake with a candle stuck in the frosting in one hand and a bottle of your favorite liquor in the other. A huge smiled crossed your face as you rushed over to him, wrapping him in a tight hug as he finished singing.

“You big dork” You giggled, wiping your misting eyes.

He placed a kiss on your forehead. “C’mon, make a wish and blow out the candle.”

You bit your lip as you thought about what to wish for. Feeling his gaze on you, you looked up at Yoongi, holding his stare for a moment as the wish crossed your mind. I want Yoongi to be in my life forever. You blew out the candle with a smile, content with your wish.

“Alright now let’s party!” He said, handing the cupcake to you then opening the bottle of liquor.

“We haven’t even ordered the pizza yet!” You protested as you took the melting candle out of the frosting before the wax could contaminate it.

Yoongi took a swig from the bottle before plopping himself in front of the tv on the bed. “Ahh! I will now. I know your order by heart anyway.” He fished his phone from his jean pocket and held the bottle in front of him for you to take.

You grabbed it as you sat down on the floor, careful as not to drop the precious liquid. You took a long harsh sip and turned your attention to the tv, watching the overly dramatic actors think it was somehow ok to fuck on a beach. “You know-” You coughed and rubbed at the burning sensation that remained in your chest from the alcohol. “Fucking on the beach doesn’t even sound appealing. Like sand gets in your crevices, it’s hot, the sun is beaming down on you, no thanks.”

You handed the bottle back to him as he slid down to join you on the floor. “I think it’s just the thrill of public sex that gets people off, it’s not really the sun and sand.”

You nodded in agreement as you grabbed your cupcake and peeled back the wrapper. “True, true.”

Just as you were about to take a bite, Yoongi slapped your hand sending the cupcake straight into your face and smearing frosting everywhere. You were stunned, unable to process what that little shit had done.

“It’s tradition.” he said with a devilish smirk. You wiped the smeared frosting off your face collecting as much as you could in your hand and launching your attack on Yoongi. He yelped and tried to keep you at bay but you shoved him to the floor determined to get your payback.

“You bastard!” you laughed and slapped the frosting across his cheek and nose.

“Ack! Now it’s all over me!”

“Good, you deserve it!”

He shook his head and chuckled, grabbing your wrist and pulling him close to his body. “You got something on your facccceeeee~!” He teased, sticking his tongue out to try and lick the frosting off your cheek.

“Noooooo!” You cried out, trying to keep him at bay. He released your wrist but instead grabbed a hold of your sides to tickle you. Your whole body spasmed and jolted, wriggling around to try and escape his torture. “Stop! Yoongi!”

He was in control now, pinning you down to the floor and wriggling his fingers down your sides, up to your armpits and neck. You tried with all your might to keep him at bay but spent most of the time trying to deflect his tickles and protect your body. Your laughing was uncontrollable and you could barely get a word out.

“Say uncle!”

You gasped for air, turning your head towards his to say your defeat but you were unaware of just how close he was. Your lips met his sending a jolt of electricity through you. Your eyes fluttered open to see the shock on his face melt into complete comfort. His tongue swiped across your bottom lip, collecting some of the frosting to pull into his mouth.

“U-um….Yoongi…” you stammered.

His hand instantly went to the back of his neck, rubbing it nervously. “S-sorry, Y/N…” Though his voice seemed steady his expression was that of a saddened puppy. The silence quickly turned awkward. All your could hear was the thundering of your heart and the harsh nervous swallows of Yoongi. You retrieved a couple tissues from the box on the bedside table, handing some to him before cleaning your face.

“I’m sorry…” You whispered.

“You think of me like a brother, don’t you?” The question caught you off guard, especially when he looked you dead in the eye, awaiting your answer.

“No? I mean, yes? I mean, I don’t-well…like…I’d fuck you if you want?” Your voice squeaked at the last part of that sentence, flabbergasted that you would even admit such a thing.

“What?”

“WHAT?” you repeated his question louder as if that was somehow was going to erase what you had just said. Yes, you were close to Yoongi but you didn’t exactly think of him in a brotherly way either. However, there was always the thought that if you two did indeed get together that something horrible would happen and your friendship would be ruined. You had heard the horror stories about people being miserable after breaking up with their best friends and the friendship never being the same again. But deep in the recesses of your mind, you knew that if the opportunity ever presented itself you might take the plunge. Was that opportunity happening now? Were you really ready for it? Your mind raced a mile a minute, fiddling between pros and cons.

“Y/N, you’re so strange you know that?” he said with a dry laugh. “I feel like you’ve been driving me crazy since high school but I never wanted to be the guy who just became your friend to fuck you. I care about you and it’s so easy to be around you. I could be myself…But I couldn’t help but hate when you were with other people. I tried to hide it for a long time, feeling mocked whenever someone would ask if he were together and you would immediately say no. I just always assumed you never felt that way towards me.”

You shook your head quickly. “It’s there, Yoongi. I was just always afraid of being with my best friend and ruining what we have. What if something happened and we ended up hating each other? I couldn’t stand that.” You wrapped your arms around him tight stifling back tears as your mind played all the worst case scenarios of Yoongi not being in your life. His arms followed suit, keeping you in place against his body.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Y/N. We’ve been attached for years. I think you’re stuck with me.”

“That doesn’t seem so bad, I guess…” you said with a playful roll of your eyes.

“Sound a little more enthusiastic, why don’t ya?!” he replied. “I’m not drunk enough for these feelings”

“Who the fuck are you kidding, bro?” You reached for the liquor bottle again, taking another long harsh swig. Yoongi followed suit never even showing a sign of discomfort from the high alcohol content.

“Sooo…” he began.

“Sooo?”

“Are we like a thing now?”

A thing? A thing-thing? A really real together together thing?. It was still a little strange to think about but the butterflies in your stomach were already revealing your true feelings. “Maybe we can take it one step at a time?” you offered.

Yoongi nodded. “Ok, one step like…kissing?”

“Kissing?” You chewed at your bottom lip nervously. “Kissing’s cool.”

“Yeah?” He asked, suddenly getting closer. His lips hovered above yours just long enough for you to let out a whimper of approval. He was instantly on you then, cradling your neck in his hands as he laid soft languid kisses on your lips and making your heart skip a beat. You hadn’t expected him to be that gentle yet you relished in the feeling. All the tension in your body slipped away as you relaxed against him, trailing your hands down his sides to rest at his hips. Parting your lips, you let your tongue slide out to greet his, earning a satisfied grunt from him. Your tongues danced together in a chaotic rhythm of ups and downs and swirls that labored your breathing. He cocked his head to the side, deepening the kiss further as you found yourself slowly falling onto your back. The cheap carpet beneath scratched at your skin, digging in as Yoongi settled between your thighs.

His hands had released their hold on your neck and instead took up residence in your own hands. Your fingers entwined, locked together in a hard embrace as neither of you wanted to let go. He slid both pairs of hairs to rest beside your head, keeping your body arched against his. He pulled away then allowing air to refill your lungs, though your head was still angled towards him waiting for the kiss to continue. You heard his low chuckle as he booped your nose gently.

“I like these baby steps.” he said.

You looked down at the minimal space between your bodies. The crotch of his jeans were flush against your thin leggings. “Maybe….maybe another baby step?”

Yoongie raised an eyebrow. “Like?”

“Like…I don’t know…” You winced as the words flew out of your mouth. “A hot makeout and dry humping session like some dumb teenagers in a car?”

He pushed back his hair and laughed. “That’s not even close to a baby step!”

‘I know, I know! I…if you don’t want to we don’t have too. I don’t even know what I’m saying…” You pulled your hands away to cover your face that was now a wonderful shade of crimson.

He took your hands in his once again and kissed them both. “We know each other so it only makes sense that we’re more comfortable with one another. Maybe it won’t be so bad to skip around a bit. It’s not like we have to get to know each other.”

You couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah…you’re right.” He always had a way of making your feel better.

“Now, get on the bed.” He commanded, pulling his weight off you so you could slide out from beneath him and crawl into the bed, making sure your ass was on full display for him. The fabric of your leggings stretched against the expanse of your ass, making it more see through and showing off the outline of your thong. You settled into the mattress, satisfied with your cheeky antics, especially when you saw the predatory look in Yoongi’s eyes.

He stood up, grabbed the collar of his shirt, and yanked it over his head easily, leaving him in just his tank top and fitted jeans. He made his way onto the bed reclaiming his place between your thighs, forcing one of your legs around him to rest more comfortably against your center. The heat had risen to your cheeks again and you wanted to look away out of sheer embarrassment.

“What?” He chuckled, looking down at you.

Your voice dropped down to a whisper. “I always get nervous and giddy and laugh awkwardly when I do stuff like this. It takes a bit for me to really relax and get into it. I’m sorry if I mess it up.”

“You’re not messing it up. What’s fucking without a little fun? If it’s all serious then it gets boring.” He assured you.

Your hand cupped his cheek gently and he turned to kiss your palm, his signature grin crossing his face. “You always make me feel better.”

“I can make you feel good in more ways than one.” He replied in a sultry tone.

Your hands slipped down his back resting just underneath the hem of his tank top. “Oh really? Prove it then, Min Yoongi. I dare you.” Your challenge was playful but his expression was nothing but. A dark lustfulness filled his eyes.

“Don’t ask for something you can’t handle.” He whispered, catching your earlobe between his teeth.

Your entire body felt like it was on a fire as a lush warmth crept over you, your mind dangling on that slight threat. You had never seen this side of Yoongi before. Normally, he was a normal sleepy goofball but this Yoongi was electric. Your nervousness ebbed away, replaced with brazen confidence. “That so, pretty boy?” You teased, grabbing a handful of his ass.

He ground his hips into yours, the denim rubbing hard against your mound, eliciting a ragged groan. “Y/N, I’m serious.”

“Do it again…please.“

You could feel his eyes burning into you even though yours were closed, your head thrown back against the pillows. His hips rolled against you again as his tongue traced the muscle in your neck before his teeth sunk in. Your nails mimicked his teeth, digging into the flesh of his lower back to gain more friction. Yoongi decorated your skin in a haphazard pattern of bruises sending shivers down your spine. Your hips came to life, shifting upwards as you came to meet his with every roll. Soft pants shared the space between you as his hands roamed the expanse of your chest, cupping your breasts. His lips never left your neck even when you turned to try and capture his lips in another kiss. He denied you if only for a moment, choosing to occupy his actions with sliding your tank top up and over your head.

A mischievous grin spread across his face. Yoongi’s thumbs grazed against your nipples through the thin lace of your bra, bringing them to pert peaks. His bottom lip was now caught between his teeth as he watched and waited for your reactions. You couldn’t help but wonder what was going on in the devious mind of his but your answer seemed to come in the form of his own question.

“Will you let me do a little bit more than grinding?”

“Depends.” You smirked.

He lowered himself again, slightly hovering above you as his mouth took up residence around your nipple, tonguing it through the fabric while a free hand trailed down your stomach drifting lower and lower until you were literally in the palm of his hand. Your back arched up into his lust filled actions, feeling a familiar ache throughout your lower half.

“Fuck…”You breathed out. Your hand snaked its way into his soft hair, pulling it slightly as you tried to keep him as close as possible. Yoongi groaned, sending vibrations through your sensitive bud while his hand worked its way into a stroking motion, the edge of his palm brushing against your clit. The tips of his fingers pressed against your entrance through the layers of fabric. Your hips were flying at a faster pace desperate to get as much contact as possible, your toes clenching around the bed sheets. His name left your lips in a loud moan. He finally spoke again, his breath tickling the wetness he had left behind on your nipple.

“Shit…if you keep saying my name like that I won’t last much longer.”

You exhaled deeply and chuckled. “Hmm, that all you got then?”

“You’re going to keep challenging me?” he asked quizzically.

You sat up enough to get your hands behind your back to unclasp your bra, tossing it to the side and letting your breasts fall free. His stunned expression made you laugh to yourself as you trailed kisses up his neck making your way to his ear. You slipped your tongue out to trace his earlobe, pulling it into your mouth for a rough nibble. In the distance, you could hear a knock on the door. “Yoongi~” You cooed.

His eyes fluttered open as he bit his lip. “What is it, baby?”

“I think the pizza’s here.” You smirked.

Yoongi tossed his head back and groaned, getting up from the bed to answer the door seeing as he was the only one still mostly clothed. You chuckled as you watched him leave in frustration, you eyes somehow trailing to the corner of your bed where the forgotten vibrator remained. Curiously, you picked it up, reading the description on the back before pulling it out. It was a slim purple glittery stick with a slanted head. A simple button at the end of the handle controlled the vibrations. You pressed it once, watching it come to life in your hands. You pressed it once more, increasing the speed over and over until it was viciously and rather loudly vibrating in your hands.

Yoongi came back then, practically shouting, “Do you know how awkward it is trying to give someone a tip with a raging boner?!”

You laughed and held out the vibrator for him to see. “Look at I! This thing’s a menace!”

He took it from your hands and clicked the button until it was back at it’s lowest setting. “That’s why you start off slow. Do you want to try it out? It is your gift after all.”

He trailed the toy up your thighs, grazing it up and around your center before trailing it down the other thigh.

“Ahh…”You whimpered. “Really?But…”

“We’d have to get rid of these first.” He said plucking at the waistband of your leggings. You bit your lip and nodded, lifting your hips so he could slide your leggings off. He pulled both your leggings and thong off, tossing them to the floor. You watched as his breath caught in his throat as your sex was finally revealed. Though you wanted to keep your legs shut so he would stop staring, you let your thighs fall apart just a bit, your wetness gleaming in the light of the bedside table lamp. Yoongi looked up at you finally putting a stop to his staring. “Close your eyes, ok? And keep them closed.”

You obeyed him, grateful to shield yourself from the knowledge of his prying eyes. You heard him moving around making you wonder for the umpteenth time what he was up too. Suddenly your thighs were pushed further apart, a cool wetness decorating your clit. You gasped as a tingling sensation overwhelmed you. Instantly, your hand went to cover your mouth to abstain from letting out any more embarrassing noises. You thought it was Yoongi’s tongue on your clit but you soon found out that it was busy licking around the tender flesh of your inner thigh. The cool head of the vibrator was the one that met with your clit, rubbing slow tantric circles around it. The dull hum of the vibrations filled your ears as the smooth surface traveled from your opening upwards, teasing your folds and around your clit at the masterful hands of Yoongi.

You body jolted, each pulsation titillating your nerves. Everything felt you heightened though you didn’t know why. Your muscles were tensing with need and you struggled to keep a hold of yourself. Just when the sensation was at its highest, it would slip away like an erotic and torturous wave. He would slide the head of the toy lower keeping it at the rim of your entrance. And though you wanted to plunge your hips down onto it, a harsh bite warned you not to. Yoongi laid his forearm across your waist keeping you pinned to the mattress as he continued to watch your legs squirm around him. Though your eyes were still closed you could feel his gaze burning into you especially when he held just the very tip of the vibe to the tip of your clit eliciting the most whorish moan you never fathomed making.

“That’s it. That’s exactly what I want to hear.” He whispered against your sweat dampened skin. The words stuck to you, imprinting you with a dominance you never expected from your best friend. Your body easily reacted to his arching in eagerness as you teetered on the edge of an orgasm. You couldn’t believe that this little toy was driving you insane, or was it really Yoongi himself; his sultry words, the deep tone to his voice, the horrid teasing that culminated into finally sliding the head of the vibrator inside yet pulling it away just as quickly when you groaned that you were going to cum. His bites turned into hot open mouth kisses against your lower lips. His tongue greedily lapped at your throbbing bud exciting every last nerve within you.

Your hands were desperately clawing at his hair, the muscles int your lower half tensing. The vibrations were angled right against your sensitive spot making your toes curl instantly.

The vibrator hushed into silence. The half-moon indentations on the palm of your hands started to fade as your fingers unfurled from the tense fist you had on his hair. Your ragged breaths slowed though your rage was building as you wondered why he hadn’t let you cum. You opened your eyes to see him licking the vibrator clean. “I’m sorry I’m so selfish, Y/N. But I wanted to be inside you when you cum.”

Your throat closed up. No words came out as you filled the room with a stunned silence. Yoongi didn’t seem to notice the effect his words had on you. He busied himself with finally peeling away his clothes, the prominent outline of his cock that was once trapped within the confines of his jeans now springing free. You stared openly, entranced by the outline of his body being revealed. He had seen you in every state of undress but his body remained mostly a mystery. Seeing him bare before you had your heart beat skipping. He slipped away from the bed and made his way to the dresser. He knew exactly where you kept your stash of condoms thanks to your countless stories about your previous sexual encounters. You realized he listened patiently and with a heavy heart, unable to fulfill his fantasy of being with you. But that was all coming to a head now.

Yoongi returned with a condom, handing it over to you. “Put it on,” he commanded, his voice drenched in lust. You looked up at him, feigning innocence as you instead kissed the head of his cock. Your kisses started as gentle and soft but escalated into sensual licks up his shaft. Each vein skirted across the plains of your tongue. You could head Yoongi’s breathing increase, his hand gripping the headboard so tightly it was shaking. His hips tried to remain still even though he wanted to grab your head and throat-fuck you raw. You looked up at him as you swallowed down most of his shaft.

His breath stilled, a moan getting caught in his throat. You pulled away then, making sure not to stimulate him too much and rolled the condom on him. He glared down at you, only waiting the few seconds for you to put on the rubber before forcing you down onto your stomach. You raised your ass instinctively allowing him easy access to plunge inside you. Your walls stung at the sudden intrusion but you didn’t protest. The little bit of pain made your thighs quiver. You lowered your head flush to the mattress, you fingers rhythmically opening and closing around the sheets. The steady slapping of his hips against your ass making you practically scream your lungs out. His hand traveled up your spine to grip the back of your neck giving him leverage to pound faster into you. Your walls clamped down around him, the constant attention to your spot overcoming your entire body. His free hand met yours, sliding it under your body as he whispered “Cum for me,” against your glistening skin. He guided your fingers towards your clit, slowing down his thrusts a bit as his cock throbbed and ached for sweet release.

Your index and middle finger rubbed furiously at your swollen nub. It was only moments before your body froze, constricting as your orgasm gushed forth, trailing down your thighs and making your entire body shake. You barely heard or felt Yoongi’s release, your mind too clouded in the fuzzy aftermath of the most amazing orgasm you’d ever had. He pulled out slowly tying the condom off and tossing it in the trashcan by the dresser. You curled up on yourself, trying to steady your breath and fighting the urge to completely pass out.

“Hey…” He pushed the hair away from your face and peered down at you. “You ok?”

You gave him a silent thumbs up, not bothering to move.

He chuckled and fixed the pillows that were tossed aside during your romp before propping you against them. You groaned, feeling the ache between your thighs. “What the fuck happened?”

“You squirted.” He said nonchalantly before he took a heavy swig from the liquor bottle. “Probably from the clit gel I used, And the vibrator. And me going to town on your spot. “

You whapped his stomach, embarrassed by his words. “Shut up! I can’t believe you!”

“Hey, I didn’t hear any complaints from you.” He stuck his tongue out like a child before heading towards the kitchen. “Now how about that pizza?”

#noonanet #yoongi fanfiction #suga fanfiction #bts fanfiction #suga fanfic #yoongi fanfic #min yoongi #min yoongi fanfic #min yoongi fanfiction #masterlist #bts fanfic #kpop fanfic

29 notes · View notes