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yuriko-mukami · 6 months

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His Possession Ecstasy 02

Beta reader: @ruki-mukami-dl

"So… Eli-chan… how has your life with the Sakamakis started?" Yuriko walked next to her best friend along a corridor she hadn’t stepped into before. Elizabeth had told her that she discovered a secret library in the school, and of course, Yuriko couldn’t resist checking that out with her during the lunch break.

And yes, Yuriko was finally back in school. It had taken several discussions with Ruki but finally, he had given in. They had agreed that Yuriko wouldn't go anywhere alone, but she could tell that Ruki hadn't been enthusiastic when she wished to spend the lunch break with Elizabeth.

“I get along with Subaru.” Elizabeth avoided looking at Yuriko who couldn’t help but wonder if everything was truly alright. “You know, I think not many students are aware of this library. I only learned about it because of Shin.”

That was a surprise, for Shin didn’t strike Yuriko as a person who would spend his spare time reading. But before she had time to voice out her thoughts, Elizabeth pulled her to a staircase that seemed to lead underground. Soon, the girls were standing in the middle of a huge room filled with bookshelves. It didn’t have the same kind of vibe as the official school library and reminded Yuriko more of an archive. By the look of it, this place didn’t have novels but non-fiction books in carefully chosen order.

Moving closer to the shelves, Yuriko started to go through them. Old schoolbooks but among them she noticed tomes of curious topics of matters humans would call supernatural. “Have you looked at these books before, Eli-chan?”

“Eh… Well… No…”

“Oh? Then what have you been doing here?” Yuriko turned to look at her friend who suddenly started to remind her of a tomato while staring at her toes. “Eli-chan?”

Tilting her head to the side, Yuriko wandered closer. Never had she seen her friend like this but perhaps something had changed during the time Elizabeth had been hiding from the world… or maybe while Yuriko hadn’t been attending the school. She was seething with curiosity.

“Eli-chan… why did Shin bring you here?”

“Tell me, Yuri-Yuri, what kinds of things do you do in a library with Ruki?” Elizabeth lifted her head, gazing at Yuriko with almost glimmering eyes.

“Eh… Read?”

“And?”

“Study, do my homework…”

“You know that I don’t mean those things, Yuri-Yuri…”

“Then what do…” Yuriko blinked. With a sudden realization, heat coursed up her cheeks. “Oh…! So, you and Shin…?”

“No, no, no! We’re talking about you here!”

“Eli-chan… you are nuts for Shin, aren’t you?” Yuriko giggled. She leaned her hand against the shelf and held her belly as the laughter burst through her. Oh, how happy she was to have her friend back. And seeing Elizabeth almost boiling with her apple-red face was too funny in an adorable way.

“Then you are soup!” Eli frowned.

“Eh?”

“Soup for Ruki. Doesn’t he like to devour it?”

“I… I wouldn’t say… devour…”

“You two are still the same idiots.”

Yuriko jumped in place when she heard the familiar voice which was soon followed by a young man with spiky hair and an eye pad that covered not just his left eye but also his eyeglasses from that side.

“I can’t believe that you brought Yuriko here, Eli.” Shin's voice was full of accusations as anger covered his face. “And then you can’t even admit whose property you are. You should leave those disgusting Vampires at once and if Brother hadn’t told me to leave the matter I would –”

“My aunt made an agreement. I can’t change it…” It was like all strength had been sucked out of Elizabeth.

“You enjoy it there, right?!” Shin leaned in, sniffing. “Getting along with Subaru! Isn’t that what you just told Yuriko?!”

“I didn’t mean it like that!”

The air was filled with the scent of angriness. Yuriko didn’t quite know how she could tell but it felt so obvious. Hastily, she stepped between Elizabeth and Shin. “Please… no fighting. Surely, Eli-chan’s aunt had her reasons…”

“This isn’t your business, Yuriko!” Shin pushed her aside and grabbed Elizabeth by the arm. The tiny girl almost flew past Yuriko from the pull.

“I’m gonna mark you…” Shin sank his fangs directly into Elizabeth’s wrist, not minding that Yuriko was still standing right next to them.

“Oh my gosh!” Yuriko covered her face with her hands, but she couldn’t block out Elizabeth’s whimpering and sucking sounds that sent shivers down her spine. While she was used to getting her blood taken it was a completely different matter to witness it happening to someone else.

“Haa… still sweet…” As Shin lifted his head, Yuriko peeked in between her fingers just to see him licking his lips. “So, none of them has yet to bite you…”

“They… aren’t allowed to take my blood…” Elizabeth swallowed, her fragile body quivering.

“Like hell, you have ever seen Vampires keeping their end of a deal…”

Nibbling her bottom lip, Yuriko lowered her hands. Blood had clearly calmed Shin down, at least partly as the room didn’t reek of heavy feelings anymore. Still, she wasn’t sure what to think of the situation. In a way, it seemed bad, but Yuriko couldn’t truly know. Someone could have said that arrangements between Ruki and her seemed bad even though she had agreed with everything more than willingly… Well, most part of it anyway. She never had asked to be showered with ice-cold water because of something someone else had done. But Ruki had only wanted to purify her… right? His intentions had been good.

“I… I think… not all Vampires are bad…” Yuriko straightened up and met Shin’s golden gaze.

The Founder growled, looking like he wanted to spit on the floor. “You sleeping with one of them doesn’t make them worthy beings. If anything, you should choose your company better.”

Yuriko gasped, not believing how rude Shin was. She had thought that they had formed some kind of bond because she had saved him once and now helped him to bring Elizabeth back. Ruki had played a part in that too, but Shin talked about him like he was something… something disgusting. “I… I’m very happy with Ruki…”

“Then why are you whimpering with a flushed face? You’re a bad liar.” Shin stepped closer, wrinkling his nose as if he had just smelled something unpleasant. “Your kind should bow to me.”

“I know nothing of such relations! And… and… I won’t bow to you… since you offended Ruki!” Now, Yuriko knew she was being much ruder than ever, but she couldn’t hold back the words. Ruki was the one who had welcomed her with open arms. No one was allowed to insult him.

“Hmph, this amazing boyfriend of yours is lurking in the shadows…”

“I would not call it lurking, more like observing what you are planning to do to my possession.” Ruki stepped between shelves, and in the instant, another burst of angriness hit Yuriko’s nose. Now, she was sure she could smell it!

Grabbing Yuriko’s arm, Ruki yanked her further away from Shin. “I do not know why you and your brother have suddenly crawled out and appeared here but keep Yuriko out of your business. She is mine.”

“As if I wanted to have her. I could get any fox if I was into them.” Shin let out a growl. He reached his arm, pulling Elizabeth close. “But it seems that these two can’t stay away from each other. And I can’t let them go on blabbering whatever.”

“May I remind you; it was Yuriko’s eagerness and my familiars that made it possible for you to fetch Elizabeth back?” Ruki’s voice was ice cold.

Something went through Shin’s mind, and Yuriko could tell it wasn’t pleasant. It was odd that Shin couldn’t have figured out Elizabeth’s location on his own even though he seemed to be in an important position in the Demon World. Or was that the reason?

Before Shin could say anything, Ruki held Yuriko’s hand and started to walk her out of the library. “The lunch break is over for you. We are to go back to the classroom.”

“But Ruki…”

“I will not negotiate this.” Ruki pushed Yuriko to the stairs and forced her to climb up.

Yuriko peeked behind her and waved her hand. “I’m sorry, Eli-chan! We’ll talk another time!”

They walked through the corridors in silence which made Yuriko’s skin tickle. She could still smell the burning scent of rage that lingered within Ruki even though outside he looked as collected as ever. Finally, he pushed her into an empty classroom and closed the door behind them.

“You are a handful. What is it in that Elizabeth that lures you to her over and over again?” Ruki ran his hand through his hair and sighed. “I do not understand that. You have a home now, a family. You have me as your master. Why is having a friend so important?”

“I simply like Eli-chan. Having her in my life makes me happy.”

Ruki frowned and pressed toward Yuriko. Her buttocks hit the edge of a desk as she backed down, but Ruki scooted even closer, leaning in while imprisoning her gaze. “Your master should make you happy.”

“And… you do. It’s not that you don’t make me happy… but having other people around me enlightens my life as well.” Yuriko swallowed. She didn’t want yet another fight with Ruki. Not yet another cold shower. If only Ruki would have seen her point of view… but he kept pushing closer until Yuriko almost laid on the desk and he hovered above her.

“It is… it is… like you have your brothers! They are special to you. I can’t ever take their place and neither I should… There is room for all of us in your heart.” Yuriko’s words made Ruki stop. He frowned and his gaze seemed to turn inwards for a moment. Her heart pounded, and she didn’t dare to say anything more, not to break Ruki’s focus on inner matters nor even ask what was going through his mind.

“I see…” Ruki sighed. “You are driving me crazy, Yuriko… I do not know what this power of yours is but it is messing with my thoughts. Constantly. Over and over again you make me think about things I usually do not bother to consider.”

“I… I… I’m sorry for that…”

“Then perhaps you should take responsibility for your actions…” Ruki pinned Yuriko against the desk, pressing her wrists on the hard wood. The tip of his nose nuzzled to the column of her neck as he inhaled deeply. “Such a sweet scent…”

Releasing Yuriko’s wrists, Ruki tore her ribbon off and the upmost buttons of her shirt open. “I cannot stand the thought that someone else would come this close to you…”

“Of course… of course, not! Having friends isn’t like that! We simply talk and do fun stuff together! Elizabeth isn’t going to bite me!” Yuriko placed her hands on Ruki’s shoulder, squeezing them slightly.

“She better not, for everything within you belongs to your one and only master…” Ruki’s breath swiped over Yuriko’s skin as he spoke. His lips glided along her neck until they stopped over a vein that pulsed against them. Tensing, Yuriko could feel how her heart climbed toward her throat and drummed in her ears.

“Hmm, so eager for your master’s fangs. You are such a good girl…”

The white pain hit Yuriko, making her arch and whine under Ruki. Her eyelids fell shut as her fingers clenched his school uniform’s jacket. As the piercing ache turned into gentle sucks a moan escaped her.

“Such a shameless sound…” Ruki kept draining Yuriko’s blood, pressing his body on hers. He took his time, savoring every drop of the sweet liquid that had bound them together. “I should take you home right now so that you could give me more…” Licking over the wound, Ruki sighed. He kissed the bite mark, straightening up right after and pulling Yuriko with him.

Arms enveloped the Kitsune woman as Ruki almost crushed her on his chest. She wrapped her tinier hands around him and squeezed as hard as she could, dizziness making her lean against him.

“Always remember to whom you belong.” Ruki’s words were mumbles as Yuriko’s hair muffled them. “I will not let anyone else have you this way.”

Ruki released his grip, taking half of a step back. A cold finger brushed Yuriko’s cheek and finally combed a strand of her hair behind her ear, revealing the fresh bite mark better. Picking up her ribbon, Ruki buttoned Yuriko’s shirt and hung the accessory back in its place. “You are not to meet that Tsukinami Shin again. He is dangerous… and we do not know his full connections to the Kitsune. You are allowed to spend time with your friend Elizabeth but that is all. Is that clear?”

Still dizzy and out of breath, Yuriko nodded. “Yes… I understand.”

Ruki’s smile turned the world upside down. Yuriko would have given anything to see that every day.

“You truly are my angel. Now, let us go to the last class.” Ruki took Yuriko’s hand and pulled her back to the hallway. “And prepare yourself, I will expect to hear more of those unashamed voices of yours when we are back at home.”

Yuriko placed her school bag next to her desk and pulled off her cardigan. As she tapped the switch of a tiny lamp, a slightly fluttering orange light filled the room, leaving the corners of it hiding in the shadows. The surface of the desk was drifting with pens and notes Yuriko had written another day while doing her homework. She knew she should arrange things better but right now, the mental energy for that was slipping from her reach as the weight of the past evening pressed on her shoulders.

On the other side of the window, the night sky spread over the yard, but the moon was hiding behind the heavy clouds, making everything shadowy and even darker than usual. The school night was still whirling through her mind as she roamed to her closet and stuffed the cardigan on the shelf.

There were so many things going on. Elizabeth seemed to have her own troubles, living with the Sakamakis, and Yuriko didn’t want to bother her friend too much with her endless search for her brother and mother. Other than that, she knew she should be concentrating on school, but everything else simply felt more important.

A knock from the door made Yuriko’s hand stop when she was just about to tug off her ribbon. She didn’t have time to say anything when Ruki already walked in, pressing the door back shut behind him.

“Umh… Ruki?” Yuriko lowered her hand, pulling the ribbon off at the same time. “Did you already finish your talk with Kou-kun?”

“Yes.” Ruki stepped closer, picking up the ribbon from Yuriko’s fingers. “You do not need this now.” He let the accessory fall, gazing down at Yuriko.

“Well… yes, I was going to change my clothes anyway…” Yuriko squirmed, glancing into the closet where her pajama shorts and top were waiting for her.

“You will not need any other piece of clothing either.” Ruki leaned in, running his fingers along the column of Yuriko’s neck and finally, plucking open the uppermost button of her dress shirt. “Such beautiful skin… I should be the only one who is allowed to admire you like this.”

“And… and… you are…” Yuriko gasped as Ruki pulled open another button. She didn’t shy away, for he had seen everything there was to see. There were no secrets between them in this regard. He was the only one who had ever wanted her, who had shown her all these signs of love. “You don’t need to worry. I don’t want anyone else… and no one else wants me. So there —”

Ruki's gaze darted to Yuriko’s eyes as stormy as ever. “Do you not see how everyone’s eyes are ogling you?”

“Eh? No… no, I don’t…”

Pulling another button, Ruki frowned. “You are so beautiful that everyone keeps staring at you with dirty thoughts in their minds.”

Yuriko shook her head. “I… I don’t think so… There isn’t anything special in me…” Sure, she had strange colored hair, and perhaps, that made people turn to look at her but that was all. In general, she didn’t even have other friends than Elizabeth. No one was interested in her, so Ruki’s worries were unnecessary.

Ruki stopped opening the buttons and snatched Yuriko’s chin, lifting it. A smirk rose on his lips. “Perhaps your master should show you the true beauty of yours. Would you like to see that, Yuriko?”

“I guess?” Yuriko didn’t understand how Ruki could display something like that. She knew what she looked like, so there was nothing new to see.

Chuckling, Ruki released Yuriko’s chin and enveloped her waist, making her walk directly to the tall mirror in the corner of her room. It reflected them both, revealing Yuriko’s slightly flushed cheeks and bosom that vibrated up and down along with her breathing.

“Now, what do you see?” Ruki’s lips caressed Yuriko’s earlobe. “Tell your master everything…”

“I… I see myself… I see us… standing in front of the mirror. We look like we always do…” Yuriko tried to glance at Ruki, but he took her chin again and turned her face toward the mirror.

“Do not avert your gaze for a moment, my angel.” Smirking through the mirror, Ruki opened the rest of the buttons of Yuriko’s shirt. “You are to keep your eyes on the mirror until I tell you otherwise. Is that clear, Yuriko?”

Yuriko nodded. A tickle meandered in the bottom of her stomach, and she couldn’t prevent her muscles from tensing as Ruki slid the shirt off her shoulders, letting it fall on the floor. The mirror showed a lace bra that pushed slightly up a perky pair of breasts, one of them blemished with a rather fresh bitemark.

Ruki let his hands trace Yuriko’s sides until they met the waist of her skirt. He didn’t waste time, moving one of his hands behind her and tucking the zipper open. The skirt, too, ended up on the floor, pooling around Yuriko’s feet. Her panties were comfortable cotton with tiny hearts printed on them, looking a bit childish now when Yuriko stared at them. The panties didn’t quite fit together with the bra and thigh-high white socks that squeezed her legs slightly.

“Now…” Ruki plugged Yuriko’s bra from behind, releasing the hooks. His cold fingers caressed her at the same time he pushed the straps down her shoulders, making her shiver all over. The piece of clothing met the floor in front of Yuriko’s eyes, revealing her bare breast to the mirror.

Yuriko wasn’t used to staring at herself like that. Of course, she knew what she looked like, but this was different. She could see how the tips of her perky buds were slightly swollen and reddish as if asking to be touched. But she didn’t dare to lift her hands, neither did Ruki give her the fondling her body cried for.

“Such a beautiful sight. Now, take off your panties, and do not avert your gaze.” Ruki’s voice was as calm and collected as ever even though Yuriko’s insides were trembling. Her breathing got stuck in her throat, making her feel slightly dizzy. This was completely different from other intimate moments she had shared with Ruki.

With quivering hands, Yuriko took hold of her panties and pulled them down. As she tried to keep her gaze in the mirror, her legs wavered and she almost stumbled while tugging the fabric and lifting her feet.

Ruki ran his fingers on both sides of Yuriko’s neck. Their coldness radiated on her skin, sending even more shivers down her spine. Ruki moved on, caressing her shoulders with slow movements. Leaning in, he followed his hand trail with the tip of his nose and inhaled deeply while looking directly into Yuriko’s eyes through the mirror.

Grating his fangs along Yuriko’s shoulder, Ruki smirked. Yuriko tensed, squeezing her hands into fists as she prepared herself for what was to come. The urge to close her eyes was almost unbearable, yet somehow, she managed to fight against it. As she watched, Ruki pierced her skin. The pain shot down her upper arm, making her gasp for air and flutter all over. A small rivulet of crimson tried to escape, yet Ruki caught it with his tongue before focusing on gentle sucks that make Yuriko’s heart bounce as if it wanted to give him even more of her elixir of life.

Relishing with Yuriko’s blood, Ruki traced her sides and followed her curves, finally placing his hands on her hips and holding her in the spot. He savored each drop without hurry while keeping their gazes locked into each other. Gaping her mouth, Yuriko could see how a pinkish flush climbed from her chest to her neck and all the way to her cheeks.

“Such a good girl.” Sighing, Ruki licked over the wound and kissed it. His tongue darted out, tracing his lips before his hands pushed Yuriko toward the floor. “Sit down with me…”

Ruki slid into a sitting position, placing his legs on each side of Yuriko’s. She squirmed, turning her head. No way she could watch anymore. This was getting too… something!

“I told you not to avert your gaze.” Ruki grabbed Yuriko’s chin, forcing her head to turn again. Her view went blurry the moment she saw the mirror. “Hmm… that was unexpected.” Ruki’s chuckle embraced her ear. For a moment, he let go of her chin but only to remove her glasses… and once more she could see her face that was as red as her eyes were amber-yellow.

Taking Yuriko’s chin again, Ruki put his other hand on her thigh. He shoved the leg gently and finally lifted it over his when Yuriko didn’t move. “Now, the other one.”

“Umh!” Yuriko drew breath, unable to voice out her whirling thoughts. Or did she even have any thoughts at all anymore? Her face was searing, her deepest parts quivering, almost clenching.

“Be a good girl for your master and do it~”

Holding her breath, Yuriko raised her leg over Ruki’s as the urge to close her eyes kept growing. Yet, she couldn’t stop staring at the sight in front of her. Never had she seen herself from this angle, and a tiny voice in the back of her mind told her to snap her legs back together and stop being so lewd.

“Hmmm… already glistening for your master’s eyes…” Ruki glided his hand on Yuriko’s inner thigh, moving up until his fingers were caressing her soft hair. He pushed his fingers over the curls, dipping one of the digits between her folds. “So wet. It seems you are enjoying yourself, is that not so?”

“I… I… umh…” Yuriko didn’t even know what to say. It was like her mind was turning into an empty space or mush. Ruki meandered his fingers deeper, pushing one against her entrance while his thumb rubbed on the tiny moist, and glimmering pearl.

Biting her bottom lip, Yuriko tried to keep the moan in. Yet it escaped her.

“Do not hurt what is mine.” Now, there was a slight edge on Ruki’s voice. Smirking through the mirror, he traced Yuriko’s bottom lip while still holding her chin and finally, pushed a digit into her mouth. As Yuriko gasped, he only pressed his finger further in, repeating the gesture at the apex of her thighs as well. The moist sound made her cheeks flush even more, yet she couldn’t do anything but stare at the finger that dipped into her, sliding deeper every time while Ruki kept his thumb dancing on her clit at a steady pace. His other index finger pressed against her tongue, rubbing it, and preventing her from swallowing. The shocking pleasure almost sent her swooning.

Yuriko’s back was resting against Ruki’s chest as he made his fingers work their magic. Another digit pushed past her boundaries, conquering her now embarrassingly damp deepness. She clapped her hand on Ruki’s thigh, squeezing instinctively.

“That is right. Hang onto your master.” Ruki’s darkened voice echoed against Yuriko’s ear, his lips caressing the earlobe as he spoke. “Now, let the bliss take you over~” He increased the pace, thrusting his fingers back and forth while curling their tips, causing friction against her walls. At the same time, his thumb never stopped but circled her pulsating pearl until she could not do anything but surrender the sweet sensation that sent heated shivers from her core to every single cell of her body, filling her mind with gratifying rapture and covering the view from the mirror with tiny, sparkling stars.

“Oh my gosh!” Yuriko’s squeal turned into a muffled mumble when Ruki’s finger pushed her tongue, darting in and out of her gaping mouth. She arched her back. It was more and more difficult to keep her gaze on the mirror when Ruki pushed her closer to the edge. Her body was weeping, her mind whimpering, yearning for the peek of pleasure no matter how shameless she looked at the moment. Her inner walls clenched around Ruki’s fingers while she felt something hard pressing on the small of her back, jerking even. Whining and squirming, she dug her fingers into Ruki’s thigh and moaned as his fingers wetted her mouth and turned her into throbbing hot pudding with their dance on her most sensitive spots.

And just then Ruki pulled his fingers out and moved his thumb from Yuriko’s crying pearl with a smirk on his lips. As his index finger left her mouth, she let out a frustrated moan. She felt so empty and was in a brick of explosion. Yet now the grand final had been stolen from her, spirited away. “Ruki… please… I need you…”

“Is that so?” Ruki’s smirk only grew bigger. He lifted his hand which was glistening with Yuriko’s arousal. “Then be a good girl and lick this clean. Perhaps then your master will grant your wish.”

The fingers had a distinct smell of Yuriko’s lust when Ruki moved them closer to her face. Blinking, she couldn’t help but glance in the mirror. Her cheeks were scorching red while her body was covered with a slightly pinkish shade as her breath pushed out as whimpering pants. She opened her mouth, sliding out her tongue and tracing Ruki’s digits with it. The taste of sweet saltiness filled her senses as she worked through the sticky moistness that coated his skin. Deep within her a sensation of a squeeze made her shiver. Her body craved more, so she wrapped her fingers around Ruki’s wrist and kept licking until there wasn’t even a drop of the liquid of her love left.

“Such a good girl~” Ruki smiled almost gently, moving his hand and making Yuriko release her grip. He pulled off his blazer and ripped his shirt over his head, tossing both on the floor. “Open my pants. Hurry.”

Turning around, Yuriko took hold of Ruki’s belt and tugged it open with quivering hands. Now, when she couldn’t see herself, it was easier to act. She unzipped Ruki’s pants and started to yank them down. He helped her and soon there was only one last piece of clothing separating them. Yuriko pressed her palm on the bulge, massaging slightly. She could feel how the length jerked as if asking to be freed from its fabric cage.

Ruki plucked his fingers under the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down, allowing his hardness to spring against his belly. The sight made blood throb in Yuriko’s veins in so a fast and heated manner, she could almost hear it in her ear canals. “Ruki, please… I want to feel you…”

A pleased smirk. Ruki nodded. “Then turn around again and sit on your master’s lap.” He moved sitting on his folded legs, his eyes not leaving Yuriko even for a moment.

Swallowing, Yuriko crawled around, meeting her wide gaze in the mirror again. She backed down a little, moving her legs on each side of Ruki’s and taking support from his knees. He grabbed her waist, lifting her hips, while his manhood poked against gates that were ready to open up for him. He was all she wanted; all she could think about now.

Ruki pushed Yuriko down, bolstering her, as his shaft spread her heat, slowly and teasingly. Shame and desire mingled hot in her throat while Ruki reached the bottom of her depths, holding her down.

“You look so sexy right now.” Ruki’s words were a mere whisper that caressed Yuriko’s ear, yet they sank into her heart. “You are taking me so well. Now, prepare yourself.”

Pressing her palms on Ruki’s thighs, Yuriko let him lift her waist again and then shove it down once more. She was lost to the rhythm and each thrust guided her further and further into the glow of desire, into a bonfire of their lust that was already consuming her. As their gazes met through the mirror, a wild, raw need passed between them.

Ruki slid one hand over Yuriko’s chest, between her breasts that were bouncing with each buck of his hips, and constrained her against his upper body, making her back arch slightly. As he glided his other hand over her heat, massaging her weeping pearl again she couldn’t help but throw her head back and moan, her inner walls crushing his manhood that pierced her over and over again.

Lifting her hand, Yuriko grabbed Ruki’s nape. As he once again hit the sweet spot deep within her while his fingers teased her throbbing nub without mercy, she sank her nails into his skin and moaned like ever before. Her whole body squirmed and quivered as everything else disappeared. There wasn’t anything else than this thrusting rhythm, Ruki’s shaft filling every inch of her and his touch sending tidal waves of pleasure through her.

“Oh my gosh! Oh gosh! Ruki! I can’t take it!” Yuriko whimpered, almost sobbing as she felt like she was about to burst into tiny pieces beyond repair.

But Ruki growled and increased his pace, pushing them both against the floor. “You can and you will!”

Yuriko’s breast rubbed on the carpet while Ruki bounced in mercilessly, without taking any breaks. She cried and panted, scratching the rug under her as her mind turned into mush. She clenched around his length breathtakingly fast, exploding again… and again while endlessly wailing his name.

Just when Yuriko thought another explosion of bliss would kill her, Ruki pulled out, rubbing his manhood between her buttocks. The cool yet sticky liquid shot over her, coating her butt and sliding into the junction of her legs. Shivers run through Yuriko as the sensation hit her. She lifted her dizzy head and gazed through the mirror at Ruki, who was taking support from her lower body while panting heavily.

“Never question your beauty and sexiness again, Yuriko.” Ruki’s voice had a rough edge to it. His hand caressed Yuriko’s frosted buttock. He let out a long sigh before leaning in and hauling Yuriko in his arms. She sobbed and shook in his grasp as the stickiness of her skin glued them onto each other. Ruki turned her around, stroking her back while pressing her on him. He caught her lips with his, seducing her into a soft kiss.

“I love you, Yuriko. From the bottom of my heart.”

A whisper that meant to the world. Yuriko smiled between her sobs, wrapping her limbs around Ruki. “And I love you, Ruki… more than I can ever tell.”

Ruki chuckled. “You could try.” He took a tight hold of Yuriko and teleported them directly into a hot bath that wafted the scent of lavender.

#yuriko's story #yuriko tsukino #ruki mukami #shin tsukinami #elizabeth virnien #steamytimes

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sparklecryptid · 2 years

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(Based off a discussion I had in the FC discord about miqo’te biting those they like. Set in a multi-wol au with my dearest video game wife @serenityharkness )

Fleur is not fond of emotions. They are mushy, gushy, messy things make her feel like she has to do something. Emotions are inconvenient and inconsistent and Fleur would much rather not have to deal with them.

There is a word for what Fleur feels for her spouses. She knows this. Fleur knows that word is called love. She just doesn’t know what to do with it. It makes her feel vulnerable, it makes her want to father her spouses up and keep them somewhere safe.

Not that she would never do that; but the thought is tempting. Her spouses - her wife especially - are reckless in their efforts to help people and it endangers them more often than not. At least Aymeric is stuck behind a desk most days - Twelve forbid that man ever decide to go on an adventure. Fleur isn’t sure she would survive the worry.

Still Fleur has to do something about these emotions and since Aymeric and Estinien are out in Ishgard Fleur only has two spouses to bounce on.

It’s convenient that they are all lounging together on a bed, reading various magical tomes neither Aymeric nor Estinien show much interest in. It makes it much easier for Fleur to enact a Plan.

She sits her book on astrological phenomenon down, neither G’raha nor Serenity notice. Fleur’s tail twitches with mischief. Serenity is tucked between Fleur and G’raha, laying across both of them in such a way her head rests on G’raha’s lap and her legs rest on Fleur’s.

G’raha’s ears twitch toward Fleur and he gives her a questioning look. Fleur smiles at him and blinks slowly. He flushes adorably. Fleur’s heart does a funny thing because Emotions.

Fucking Emotions. Fleur reaches over and very obviously and gently pulls the book away from Serenity who squints at her and pouts.

“I was reading that,” Serenity says.

“I’ll let you get back to it in a second,” Fleur says and listens to every instinct in her that tells her to bite. Fleur shifts so she’s hovering over Serenity and leans down to gently nip at Serenity’s ear.

Serenity’s ear twitches and she turns as red as a tomato. She even squeaks! It’s adorable. Fleur grins at her and blinks slowly. The blush deepens, the funny feeling in Fleur’s chest settles a bit.

“Did you have to interrupt my reading for that?” Serenity asks.

“Yes,” Fleur says and her teeth still ache. She needs to bite the rest of her spouses, show them that she loves them.

Then she turns her attention to G’raha who is very obviously not reading and watching them both with perked ears and a flush on his face.

Fleur moves so she’s off of Serenity and sitting next to G’raha again.

She plucks the book out of his hand and leans forward to nip his ears.

He flushes red, his tail curls around one of Fleur’s hands.

Fleur grins and settles back between him and Serenity. Her tail goes to curl around one of Serenity’s arms.

“I’ll bite the others when they get back,” she announces and picks up her book again.

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onetwofeb · 2 years

Text

By Talia Lavin

... After reading a particularly horrific guide to child-rearing as part of my book research, I’ve been examining a small Christian group, one that’s been labeled a cult by an ex-member who prefers to remain anonymous. The group sprung up in suburban Detroit in the 1990s, and its center of gravity was St. Clair Shores, Michigan—settled in the sixteenth century as “L’Anse Cruse,” the Hollow Cove. The founder of this tiny and nameless cult first sold accordions, and then became a real-estate agent.

His name was Joseph LaQuiere, and his 2014 obituary identified him as a “spiritual father” and “true leader.” His son John, who I called at the family real estate office, told me that his father had gathered followers to him—families that had heard word of his wisdom—and offered them a way to live: as Christians who observed Sabbath laws, refrained from pork, and followed certain Old Testament practices in the name of Christ. There are other Christian sects that appropriate elements of Jewish practice, although these are generally condemned as “legalistic” by mainstream Christians—a term of great scorn for the Jewish rules of observance cast off by the early church. LaQuiere also instructed them on how to raise their children. In this, he appears not to have swerved much from the breathtaking current of violence towards children that runs through a number of fundamentalist evangelical denominations; I have interviewed survivors of these childrearing practices from all over the country, and all describe internal wounds that can’t be readily stanched.

According to the testimony of the ex-cult member I spoke to, an instruction manual emerged from the small confines of the LaQuiere group, a book that enshrined Joseph LaQuiere’s child-rearing advice for the whole world to read. There’s also a rather barebones website associated with this tome, and a cheerful, sunny gardening metaphor that enfolds it all: it’s called “Raising Godly Tomatoes.” Tomatoes are a fruit of the Americas, never mentioned in the Bible, a product of the same land as the author and her spiritual mentor. ...

The book is not entirely dissimilar to other evangelical parenting guides I have analyzed, and many of its rhetorical devices are identical: the frequent invocation of Bible verse, the transparently staged “questions” from devotees of the author’s practices, and most of all, the staggering cruelty it advocates towards children, with the avowed goal of making them, not kind, not curious, not engaged, but chiefly and above all, obedient. Krueger’s chief innovation is in her persistent use of gardening metaphors. The “Godly Tomatoes” she describes are children; her method is called “tomato staking,” evoking the way tomato plants will grow profuse and unruly, then droop under their own eager, fruited weight, unless tied firmly to stakes from the start.

“Think of your child as a tomato plant,” Krueger writes. “Most parents provide little staking for their growing young tomatoes. They care for them when they are babies, but soon afterwards, begin letting them grow their own way. They feel uncomfortable assuming authority over their children… And just like the sprawling, unattended, unstaked tomato plant, there comes a point when it’s simply too late.” The philosophy—tethering your children with absolute control, battling their inherent nature into submission—echoes through a book that is little more than a manual for physical and emotional abuse cloaked in the word of God, a treatment that begins in a child’s earliest days. [...]

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holdmecloser-gandydancer · 2 years

Note

i honestly cant remember if i already sent u a prompt, so if i did, either disregard this or!! have another prompt from me ig!! sldfkjsd. *anyway* !! 40 (Eating tomato soup and grilled cheese) w magnus n whoever else u might want :O? -ise

From this prompt list! (still accepting!)

Magnus trudges inside, kicking snow off his boots. He peeks his head back outside and whistles into the cold air. After a moment, Johann comes bounding onto the porch, flinging snow off his fur.

“Oh you’re a mess, bud,” Magnus says lightly, scratching him behind the ears. “Come on, I’m figuring out what to make for dinner. If you’re lucky, you might get some little scraps. Maybe.” Johann runs inside and quickly curls up on the couch.

Magnus makes his way to the kitchen and begins perusing his cupboards. The weather thoroughly chilled him to the bone; all he wants is something hearty and homey. Nothing jumps out at him. It’s shaping up to be a day where all he can see are ingredients, not their potential. Those are always especially frustrating but he’s determined to not heat up a Fantasy Lean Cuisine.

After a moment of consideration, he strolls over to the bookshelf in the living room. He might not have any ideas for dinner, but he knows who does. He scans over the shelves for a moment before plucking Simmer it up with Taako: A guide to soups, stews, and everything in-between, one of Taako’s latest cookbooks. He sent an advanced copy to Magnus a few months ago with a note telling him to “start honing your skills since you’re determined to live in the middle of nowhere with a million dogs.”

He cracks open the glossy tome and scans down the table of contents. Everything sounds good but a lot of it sounds high effort. He considers French onion soup before remembering just how time intense the recipe is. He really doesn’t feel like spending an hour caramelizing onions before the soup can even start cooking. He keeps searching before landing on it: creamy tomato soup. That’s just what this day needs, he decides as he walks the book back into the kitchen.

He laughs to himself as he skims through the story prefacing the recipe. It’s some half-truth about a particularly cold plane. There came a point where we all needed something warm and rib-sticking; swiping sweaters from each other’s closets couldn’t sustain us for a whole year. Sweaters were swiped alright but nearly all were from Magnus’s closet. It was his bitching that forced this soup into creation that year.

He reads the ingredient list and immediately runs into a snag. The recipe calls for fresh tomatoes. Hmm. His cabinets are filled to the brim with canned vegetables and tomatoes are no exception. He wonders if canned would work just as well. Magnus fishes his Zune out of his pocket and brings up Taako’s number.

“You got Taako,” the voice on the other end of the line drawls.

“Hey, I’m making your tomato soup recipe –“

A peal of laughter cuts through Magnus’s train of thought. “You’re actually using my cookbook? Mags, that’s precious!”

“Eh, might as well learn from the best. Even if the best tells bullshit versions of true stories that makes him look better.”

More laughter erupts from the other end of the call. “I editorialized a bit, sue me.”

“Anyway, I don’t have fresh tomatoes, can I just use canned?”

“Canned?” Taako makes a noise of reluctance. “Are they at least good quality?”

Magnus looks at the cans in his cabinet. Some are dented, all are the generic Fantasy Kroger brand. “Yeah,” he lies.

“Well, it’s not gonna taste as good but it’s your soup.”

“Thanks, Taako.”

“’Course, my dude. Later days.” The line clicks off abruptly and Magnus returns the Zune to his pocket.

Okay. Canned tomatoes are allowed. Magnus is ready to rock and roll on that soup. He goes about collecting all his ingredients and—

Scratch that. He realizes he has white onions, not yellow or red. He can’t remember if these are acceptable substitutes. Zune once again in hand, he calls Taako.

“Yeah?”

“Another soup question.”

“My dude. It’s been less than five minutes.”

“I don’t wanna screw it up!”

A heavy sigh. Magnus can practically see the eye roll. “What’s up now?”

“Can I use a white onion instead?”

“Yeah. Might be a little sharper of a taste than what you’re looking for but you can just add literally a single pinch of sugar. Actually, no, half a pinch, you’ve got fucking goliath hands.”

“Okay, thanks!”

“No problem.” The line clicks again and the Zune once again returns to its home in Magnus’s pocket.

He writes himself a quick note in the margins about the half pinch of sugar only to realize that he is going to fuck up this soup. Begrudgingly, he fishes his Zune from his pocket again.

“Dude. Are you fucking kidding me? I’m not Ask Jeeves, what’s up now?”

“I don’t have chicken broth,” Magnus sounds deflated.

“Okay, here’s what’s gonna happen. I’m going to grab some ingredients, you’re going to start planning on how to craft me the sickest goddamn spice rack you’ve ever made, and Krav and I will be over there for dinner.”

“Taako, no, I don’t wanna disrupt your evening.”

“No, my dude, you’re my best friend and you’re having a soup struggle. I am contractually bound to come over, actually.”

“Isn’t Lup your best friend?”

“My best friend who isn’t related to me,” Taako corrects.”

“Isn’t that Ren?”

“Okay, my best friend who I’ve known for over a century who also isn’t related to me.”

“Wait, I thought that’s Barry.”

“Magnus, I’m doing something kind and generous for you. Are you really going to look a gift Taako in the mouth over some semantics?”

Magnus laughs a little. “No, I guess not. I’ll start planning that spice rack for you.”

“You better. See you in a bit.”

“See you. Thanks again.”

“Don’t be sappy about it or I’ll just drop off a bottle of ketchup.”

“Understood.”

#taz #taz balance #taz imbalance spoilers #technically #magnus burnsides #taako #the adventure zone #reese writes #this is another one where im using the prompt more as inspiration oops #there *will* be soup and grilled cheese but this was the first thing that came to my mind and i wanted to run with it #also this is just me when im trying to make one of my mom's recipes

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years

Text

Fully Completely 3

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), violence, mutual irritation, harassment

This is dark!Loki x reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Series Synopsis: There’s a new face in Birch and he’s come to haunt your door.

Sister series to Smalltown Bringdown, When the Weight Comes Down, and Little Bones

Note: On to part three. Sorry for being a human disaster.

Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Chapter 3: Or it will move right through me

💀💀💀

Jerome annoyed you as he picked through your tool box and clicked the ratchet noisily. He was excited but impatient and complained that you were taking so long. You told him if he wanted to pay out of pocket for labour, you could finish faster.

You sat by his bike, parts strewn at your feet, and bent your head to look under the tank. You still had a lot to go and hadn’t yet added anymore of the gross chrome to the frame.

“Do you realise how filthy this is gonna get?” you huffed as you sat up and leaned your elbows on your legs, “not to mention how ridiculous it looks.”

“I like it. It’s just my style,” your brother grinned, “I don’t remember you spending this much time on Bucky’s ride and you and him--”

“He had me replace the tailpipe, you want nothing short of a rebuild,” you scoffed, “and you’re not the boss.”

“Don’t remind me,” he rolled his eyes, “guess it could be worse though. It could be Steve.”

“Thank god it’s not,” you chuckled, “I don’t know how many women had to toss beer in his face before he latched onto that mousy one at the bakery.”

“She’s nice,” Jerome shrugged, “far as I know. She doesn’t talk to anyone but Steve.”

“I wonder why,” you tisked, “he has insecurity written across his forehead.”

The tinny bell rang and the door whooshed open as the wind caught it. Jerome glanced over and dropped the ratchet noisily into the drawer of the tool box. You growled in warning as you spent much of your spare cash on those. He apologised quietly as he squared his shoulders at the man who appeared.

“Hey,” Bucky wiped the flakes from his hair and blew out a shiver.

“Bucky,” Jerome said rigidly.

The other man nodded and stepped further inside the garage. He shoved his hands in his pockets and paced aimlessly around the concrete floor. You watched him as you fiddled with the bolt in your hand.

“You wanna head down to the bar?” It wasn’t a question as Bucky came to face you, “I gotta talk to your sister.”

“Sure,” Jerome replied sharply, “you got it, boss.”

Bucky grumbled and waited for him to leave. He sniffed and kicked his toe into the floor.

“So… what’re you doing here? Been a while so must be urgent,” you sat up on the rolling stool and stretched your back.

“The whole town’s talking about it. You fighting him,” his brows drew together, “I told you I’d take care of him.”

“You didn’t,” you said evenly, “so I did.”

“I talked to him--”

“And said what?” you snorted.

“Look, you don’t understand. You said it yourself, you don’t care about my business. You don’t get what’s going on but what I need from him is bigger than your temper.”

“Excuse me? This is my fault? He broke into my shop, he followed me from that diner and he put his hands on me,” you stood and tossed the bolt away, “what do you want me to do, Buck?”

“First, I want you to remind yourself who I am. We’re not fucking anymore so that mouth isn’t as cute,” he warned, “and I want you to play nice.”

“All you have to do is keep him away from me. How hard is that for a man like you, huh? You’re the big dog.”

“Watch it,” he pointed at you, “I won’t tell you again.”

“He’s here to deal with you, not me,” you insisted, “he grabbed me, I defended myself, and I’ll do it again.”

“This isn’t grade school anymore, you can’t fight the boys,” he sighed.

“What are you saying?”

He was silent as his jaw ticked and his blue eyes strayed to the ceiling. You stepped closer and gripped your hips as you stared him down.

“There’s nothing else I can do for you. Nothing else I will do. He’s your problem.”

He met your glare and you scoffed in disgust, “you’re fucking serious? What do these idiots have on you?”

“It’s not what they have on me, it’s what I want from them. I’m planning for something bigger than Birch, that means there’s gonna be some sacrifices,” he shrugged.

“Sacrifices? Is that what you call it? Well, here’s one for you, the next time you get a little scuff on your tank or your headlight starts to flicker, you can head down to Carl’s,” you scowled.

“Don’t do this,” he gritted through his teeth.

“I can get business without you. I do better work than Carl, you know that. So go, I’ll deal with that asshole on my own, how I see fit.”

He inhaled and lifted his chin. He closed his eyes and thought.

“Damn it,” he swore, “you can’t make anything fucking easy. What is it with you women and your god damn--” he lifted his hand and stopped himself, “you get in the way of my business, and you won’t be so worried about Loki.”

“Oh yeah? That’s what he said about you,” you mocked, “what’s with you men and your egos?”

His lip curled and he breathed through his teeth. His eyes lit up and he punched his palm as he turned away quickly.

“I hope he has his fun with you. Maybe he can fuck some sense into you,” Bucky growled, “God knows I tried.”

“You weren’t that good,” you snipped.

He kicked the shelf of wipers hung near the front of the shop and grunted. He stormed to the doorway and stopped to look back at you.

“You’ll be wishing it was me…” he hissed.

He waved you off and continued through the front door, slamming it behind him loudly. You stared at the scattered packages of wipers and bit down on your tongue. You wanted to run out and strangle that idiot but you knew how he could be. It was the reason you broke off your little fling; he was too much like you. Hard-headed and volatile.

💀

You weren’t going to change just because the town was overrun by asshole men. You were standing your ground and that meant you were going to finish your club sandwich and enjoy one lunch without interruption.

The café was busier that day as the snowfall dwindled and the streets were mostly cleared as the plows made their regular rounds. You looked through the window as the school kids stopped by the bakery for hot drinks on their lunch and circled the rim of your mug with your fingertip. You sensed it was only the lull before the storm.

Further down you could see the corner of The Asp and heard a rumbling engine. Your shop remained empty except for Jerome’s bike. Since Bucky’s visit, you were too worked up to concentrate anyway. You wanted to take your wrench and knock every man in town in the head with it.

Nora brought your sandwich as Kimmie didn’t work on the weekends and your side of soup. You would eat both and leave satisfied. You wouldn’t let anyone ruin your day off. Well, not that you had very much to do aside from that.

You dipped your crusts in the tomato soup and stared at the seat across from you. Empty. Perfect.

You scooped the last of the bowl into your mouth and wiped your lips with the napkin. You stood and gulped up your coffee. You left money on the table and headed out. A peaceful, solitary lunch all to yourself.

You skipped the shop and continued down the street. You pushed into the hobby shop you rarely ventured into, more a bookshop if you were honest. You greeted the man at the counter with a smile. When you were a girl, you remembered he ordered you a special set of paints as the ones in his store were all dried up. Lu, you recalled his name.

You went to the shelves of models and looked over the new arrivals. You took the Smokey and the Bandit Trans Am off the shelf and smirked. Your father had one just like it when you were a kid. It wasn’t exactly new. You grabbed a bottle of black paint with it, always running low on the stuff, and headed for the counter.

Lu punched the buttons on his till and you heard a creak. Light footsteps emerged from the basement of used books as you opened your wallet.

“I didn’t take you as bookish,” Loki’s voice made you cringe.

You didn’t answer and counted out the bills for your purchase, “actually, you got any glue? I didn’t see any on the shelf.”

“Hmm, oh,” Lu turned and bent to reach into a box, “haven’t stocked up but these came in just before the storm.”

He added the orange and white tube to your bag and you added another bill. He counted out your change and handed it to you.

“Quite interesting what small towns can hide,” Loki didn’t wait to step up to counter and stood close, his sleeve against yours, “An antique edition of Whitman. One of the only Americans I read.”

You looked down at the worn tome, the edges fraying and the letters faded. It was marked up to a couple hundred. You could appreciate a love for reading but you weren’t entirely sure some old paper was worth all that.

“I’ll need the reading material as my visit has been prolonged,” he mused as you grabbed your bag and headed for the door, “my brother is due to return so I will stay in his place… get to know the town of Birch more intimately.”

You hid your disgust at his words and continued out the door. His exaggerated tones stuck in your head as you passed the window and absently swung your bag. You hated him. You really did. You should have bashed him over the head with that dumb book.

You thought of that day in the snow and smiled. You knew that shame lingered in him. You would have no problem repeating that scene.

You came up to your shop and stopped short. The burly redhead who arrived with the pestilent man stood at your door, peering in through the window, angling his head as he tried to see around the blinds. You cleared your throat as you neared.

“Something I can help you with?” you asked dully.

“Oh, ah,” he turned and laughed at himself, “I thought… Loki, I thought he’d be here.”

“No. He wouldn’t be,” you said, “he’s down at the book shop.”

“Thanks. He apologise?” He prodded.

“You seem to know him well. You think he did?” you challenged.

“Ah, nah,” he smiled awkwardly, “s’pose he didn’t.”

“S’pose he didn’t,” you echoed, “it would be smart if you kept him away from here.”

“Yeah, uh, should do,” he sidled past you and you listened to his heavy boots clump along the beaten snow.

You took out your key and unlocked the door. You closed it quickly behind you, that man’s presence set you on edge. He hadn’t shown any of the venom of his associate but he was loyal to him. You double checked the locks on all the doors and made certain all windows were closed.

You went up stairs into your apartment and stripped off your coat and boots. You sat at the small table where you ate those dinners you didn’t forget and unpacked your new model. You sorted the pieces and spread out the instructions. The image of the car on the box brought back nostalgic memories. You wouldn’t know all you did about bikes if it wasn’t for your dad. You missed him every day for the last… too many years.

You lost yourself in the tiny parts. You hunched over the table and carefully dabbed glue onto the plastic. Your eyes began to itch as the windows dimmed and you got up to turn on the lamp. You kept building well after dark and finally left the half-finished car on the table.

You stretched out your limbs as you stripped down to only your loose tee and yawned. You fell into bed and turned on the old tube television. You hit play on the VCR and the loud previews blared from the boxy speakers. You rolled yourself in your comforter and sat through the same movie trailers you’d watched a dozen times.

You were never a romantic but you the movie was another shadow of your childhood. Your grandma used to watch Kathleen Turner whenever you went to her place. She would serve you yogurt and berries and turn on the cheesy action flick and if you slept over, she would put in the sequel right after.

Your rituals kept you sane. You found it was easier to know what to expect and given your temper, it was better not to be surprised. You were always the trouble child and you regretted all those times your dad had to come talk to the principal or walk you home from school. You promised him you would be better.

Still you didn’t regret what you did. He always told you to stand up for yourself. Hell, he taught you how to throw a punch and all your best insults were inherited from him. You smiled as you thought of him and hugged your pillow as the intro played and the credits flicked up one name at a time.

You drifted off in the glow of the television and the sound effects sank into your dreams. You were still in Birch but thick vines had grown around all the buildings and billowing leaves shrouded the skies. The town had turned to jungle and you could hear the growls and grunts of beasts unseen.

You spun as a twig snapped and a snake uncoiled from a branch and fell into the brush at your feet. You stepped back and it slithered towards you. You stumbled and ran away as you could hear its skin smoothly glide through the grass at your feet. You tripped as its long body wrapped around your ankles and you crashed to the ground.

You struggled as the snake constricted your body and wound its neck around to face you. Its green eyes shone as its black scales gleamed. Its tongue flicked against your cheek and you felt its hot breath as it opened its mouth and revealed long, frightening fangs. You screamed as its bite loomed and you woke with a start.

The visions of the wild jungle faded but the heat did not. You blinked as an amber haze took over the room and you fought through your messy blankets and tumbled onto the floor. Your curtains were alight along with much of the wall. You bachelor was blazing with orange flames and you could barely see the door through the smoke.

You coughed and scrambled to your feet. Your eyes streamed and you blindly ran for the door and flew down the stairs. The shop was almost entirely engulfed as you reached the lower landing and you fumbled with the front door as flames licked closer and closer.

You burst out into the frozen night and your feet were numbed by the ice and snow. You retreated from the burning building, your life set aflame, and turned back as you reached the sidewalk. Sirens screamed and made you wince as you crossed your arms and chattered against the cold.

“Pity,” the slither made your skin crawl, “though I suppose it is a blessing you at least saved yourself.”

You glanced at Loki as your vision blurred with the tears of realisation. Everything you had was turning to ash before you. You blinked away the droplet and sneered at him. He smirked and you knew. He smirked and he knew. It wasn’t an accident.

#loki #dark loki #dark!loki #loki x reader #fully completely #series #birch #biker boys of birch #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #mcu #marvel #thor #bucky barnes #avengers #au #biker au #biker!au #sequel

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maggyme13 · 3 years

Text

The Alpha Next Door (7/?)

AN: Sorry for the long wait. To be honest. I was in no mood/ not motivated to write at all in the last couple of weeks. Hope you like this chapter

Warnings: I don’t think so, maybe a bit angst

Wordcount: around 1.8k

TAND-Masterlist

Masterlist

Part 6

Happy behaved as nothing had happened. Like it was any other day where he comes over after work.

“Thank you for staying V-Lin.”, Millie smiled at the prospect who simply nodded a goodbye.

Closing the door, the Omega sighed. Why was he acting as nothing had happened?

“You said something about preparing Dinner?”, the Alpha´s rough voice asked from her living room.

“Ye- Yes.”, she answered confused, “I wanted to make some Pizza. I usually make fresh dough, but I still have tome prepped in my fridge.”

“Sounds good to me.”, he answered.

“I. I will start preparing then. Are you alright with only tomatoes, cooked bacon, and mozzarella?”, the Omega called out upon searching her fridge.

“Sure. Whatever.”, Happy answered after a minute of silence. Though for her it sounded as he hadn´t even listened.

Nothing more was said until the smell of freshly made Pizza weaved through the kitchen and living room.

“Ready?”, he asked leaning against the door frame.

“Yes. I just need to set the table.”, she answered and he nodded before taking a seat at the table.

Again, Millie frowned but did not dare to say a word.

He was the Alpha.

He decides what happens and when it does.

Even if she would not allow it. He could simply overpower her and get what he wants. So Millie would just give in to his demands.

“Here.”, she hummed, placing ¾ of the pizza on a plate and handed it over to Happy, claiming the rest for herself, “I hope you like it.”

The Alpha said nothing the whole time they ate. He did not even look at her.

“I am going to take a shower if you don´t mind.”, Millie stated after cleaning the table, but Happy had already disappeared to the coach to watch cartoons.

“Humm,”, she sighed, “I take that as a yes.”

With heavy shoulders and heart, Millie walked up the stairs and got everything she needed, before heading to the bathroom.

A hot shower would be perfect now. Perfect to clear her head and cry without leaving evidence.

Closing the door, Millie stripped and felt first tears fall when her eyes found the scars Happy had left on her during her first heat. Most of them had faded to silvery lines, only two or three had risen while healing. Those were the ones hurting the most at that moment, even more than the space where his mark should be.

“What did I do wrong? Why is he ignoring me like that?”, she frowned and sobs left her throat.

Hot water cascaded down her body engulfing her face, washing her tears away. Minutes upon minutes she stood there allowing her emotions and stress of the last days to leave her body and only left the shower once Millie felt tired.

Dry and with brushed teeth Millie made her way to her bedroom and snuggled straight into her covers.

But the young Omega couldn´t sleep. It was too cold and empty. Finally, after hours her body caved into exhaustion and the Omega fell asleep.

Just as alone she fell asleep she woke up in the morning.

Not feeling like getting up, the young Omega simply turned around and tried to fall back to sleep again.

Noon came and went. As did the evening.

A few times she heard Happy move around in the living room and kitchen, but not once did he come to look after her.

Not until the very next morning.

“Millie. I got to go!”, Happy called out to her when he entered the next morning.

“Mhm.”, she answered, giving no other reaction.

“You okay?”

“Sure.”

“Millie?”, he asked again.

“Mhm.”, she hummed.

“What is going on?”

“Nothing.”, she mumbled.

Happy sighed and not a second later the Mattress moved under his weight.

“Omega?”, he almost growled this time.

“Mhmm.”

“Speak to me.”

Just the way you did to me yesterday?

“Mhm.”, this time the Alpha groaned after her answer.

“Sorry, Gemma. Can´t come to work today. Bye.”, the Alpha suddenly spoke.

Hearing these words, Millie frowned under her covers.

What is he doing?

“I don´t like being ignored.”, he rumbled again.

Neither do I and yet you did for more than one day.

She wanted to hide further into the sheets when they were suddenly gone and the Alpha leaned over her. There was no hiding anymore.

“So? Gonna tell me what is going on with you?”, he rumbled, “Or do I need to make you?”

“What if I don´t?”, she mumbled turning her head away,” you gonna give me the silent treatment?”

“You are distressed.”, the Alpha stated, scenting the air around her.

“Am not.”, she tried to argue.

“Yes, you are. Did Gemma or Tara do something? You act differently since yesterday.”

“They were nice.”, she simply answered.

“Then what is it?”, he growled annoyed, “It pisses me off.”

“I will be fine. Just let me go and I will behave just like before.”, Millie almost whimpered, his heavy scent forcing her instinct to do anything to appease him.

Happy frowned.

“You will still be distressed. Just covering it...Omega?”

“It´s you. You and this stupid presentation”, Millie finally snapped.

“I-”

“When you left I couldn´t sleep and then everyone returns. Everyone but you. And once you came back I am ignored. My animal just- just- just broke and wondered what I did wrong to get ignored by you. Right now I wished I never presented.”

Silence hung between the two of them.

“Now excuse me. I have to use the bathroom.”, Millie almost hissed wanting to escape the situation.

To her surprise did Happy let her go without resistance.

Is he mad now? I have no right to tell him what he should do. He is the Alpha.

“Millie?”, Happy called through the door, “I gotta go for an hour or so.”

“Okay.”, she answered, only to hear her door close a few seconds later.

Freshened up, she returned to her bedroom, to her surprise finding a shirt laying on her pillow for her. The one Happy had worn the day before.

Did he leave this for me?

Her face split into a smile and she immediately changed hers for his. At once she felt calmer and ready to sleep.

It was around three hours later when the scent of food awoke her the next time. Groggily Millie sat up, confused as to who was cooking in her kitchen and stumbled down her stairs towards the smell.

“Happy ?”, she whispered confused noticing the Alpha standing at the oven.

“How are you feeling.”, he asked instead of an answer.

“Confused. To be honest.”

“Go ahead and sit down. Food should be ready in half an hour.”

“Okay.”, she mumbled and took her seat.

Why was he cooking? What happened?

“I made some food Ma always made when she or aunty were feeling like shit. I hope you like it.”, he explained, “I got some drinks as well. Some juice and other stuff.”

“Tha- Thank you. But you didn´t need to do that.”, Millie mumbled.

“Yeah, I did. Now relax and eat up.”, he grumbled, placing the dishes in front of her. It smelled delicious and tasted just as good.

“Finished? Then get your ass into the living room and chose a movie while I clean up here.”, the Alpha ordered and Millie followed his command.

On the table laid four different movies, from Disney to Horror to Action.

The rest of the evening the two of them spend snuggled up on the couch in each other's arms. With Happy scenting her the whole time.

Her animal purred in comfort and it did not take long for her to try and snuggle into his shirt with him.

“I took the next two days off. And Gemma told me to give you some of my clothes for the next time I have to leave on business.”, he whispered at the end of the first movie, “ And you did nothing wrong. This whole mess is on me. Something happened when I had to leave. Something I do not want you to ever know, I feared your reaction and thought it would be best for you if I keep distant until the last bit of scent left my body. I realize now that this hurt you far more.”

“Were you with another Omega?”, Millie breathed afraid of his answer.

“No.”

“Where you hurt? Or one of the others?”

“Nothing serious. Only bruises and a few scratches.

“Did you have hurt someone?”

“Yes.”

“Was there blood?”

“Yes.”, he answered after a second of thinking. Gifting her a worried glance waiting for her reaction.

“Okay.”, she whispered, rubbing her nose against his neck and purring.

He was afraid I would fear him, didn´t he?

“Just. Don´t make me feel like this again. Okay?”

“Mhm.”, he rumbled and she knew it was his way of promising just that.

.-.-..-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

The two days went past in just the bat of an eye and Millie felt sad when Happy left for work on the third day.

“Hap. I need to see my doctor today for my prescription.”, she informed the Alpha.

“You need a ride?”, he asked.

“No. I just wanted to let you know. It´s the first time with that doctor.”

“Alright. See you tonight.”

“See you tonight Happy.”

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

“So, you are here for your prescription for your Pill for contraception. Do I read this right Ms….. Liam?”, the elderly Beta Doctor spoke, not looking at her, only at the notes the secretary had done prior.

“Yes, Sir. That is correct.”

“I also read that you have an Alpha.”, he continued.

“Yes Sir. But why is that important?”

“Does your Alpha know you are here?”

“Yes, Sir. But why--”

“He knows why you are here?”

“Yes, but-”

“Omega´s should not lie.”, the doctor sighed,” Again. Does your Alpha know why you are here?”

“Yes.”

“Miss. I have to ask you to leave. No Alpha wants a liar or artificial barren Omega. And I do not tolerate liars myself. Sandy will show you to the door. Goodbye.”

Shocked about his demeanor and words, Millie could only do as he had said and leave his office.

What did just happen? I-i.

The animal within her again grew nervous. Happy had told her to stay on the pill because he did not want pups. And even though it went against her nature as an Omega, she knew she would have to follow because he was the one who made the decisions. He may always claim them to be equal, she knew, in the end, it was her nature to follow her Alpha and his wishes.

Knowing she needed to inform Happy about her failure she decided to do it rather earlier than later, she hopped in her car and made her way to the TM Lot.

Part 8

AN: Thank you for reading :)

REBLOGS and comments are appreciated:)

~MaggY

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Alpha next door:

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#Alpha Happy Lowman #happy lowman #Sons of Anarchy #Happy x OFC #A/B/O #abo #au

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only-by-the-stars · 2 years

Note

Maybe a fic where Link and Mipha have to babysit Aryll? Could be in the Tome of the Wild AU or any other one I suppose.

“Do you want jelly beans on your pizza?”

The question was met with a gale of laughter. “No! Do you want...” Aryll cast about for something to ask. “Frogs! On your pizza?”

“Eugh, no!” Link shuddered, making both Aryll and Mipha giggle. “How about oranges, on yours?”

“Eeeewww!” Aryll pretended to gag; she hated oranges, making it a doubly gross suggestion. “What about you, Mipha? Would you like some lettuce on your pizza?”

“Oh, certainly not!” Now it was her turn to shudder, even as she laughed. “How about you, Link? A Rock Roast?”

“Well, if you broke it up in little pieces, it probably wouldn't be too bad...” He lifted his floury hands in protest at the horrified look on her face. “I'm joking, I'm joking! I'm not going to do that again!”

“You had better not.” Mipha gave him a mock glare, her heart swelling as Link laughed. How cute he looked right now, in his apron, with smudges of flour on his cheeks as he spread tomato sauce on the rolled out dough.

They were supposed to have gone out tonight, just the two of them, on a date to the movies. But the babysitter that his parents had hired to look after Aryll on their date had canceled at the last minute, and in desperation they'd asked Link to stay home with his sister, promising to pay him twice the rate the babysitter charged as compensation for his plans falling through. Link had agreed, of course, but had still been a bit upset on the phone when he called to tell her things would have to be postponed. Only her insistence that she come over and help him and spend time with them both had made him feel better about letting her down, as he put it. His reaction to the turn of events might've seemed like a silly thing, and had at first, until she'd put it together with the events of a few months ago, when he'd spent about two months doing his best to avoid her at all costs.

It hadn't been out of a desire to hurt her, of course—he'd simply been freaked out by his realization that he was in love with her, and hadn't known how to handle it. But it'd hurt her all the same, and he intensely regretted it. After a terrifying incident in which he and Aryll had nearly drowned—and experienced a bizarre occurrence that few believed—he'd returned to his old self and confessed his feelings and apologized. They'd been going out ever since, and Link seemed determined to spend as much time with her as he could. To make up for lost time, to make up for hurting her like that, and also simply because he loved her, he'd said. Which was nice, but it did have the unfortunate effect of sending him into a tailspin of guilt every time he had to cancel or turn down plans. That was something they were slowly working on getting him past.

At least he was in a happy mood right now, cooking and playing a silly game with his sister that he'd invented as a way to amuse her every time he made pizza. According to Aryll, the babysitter always ordered it in on nights like this, but it wasn't half as good as her brother's. Given how good Link was at cooking, Mipha found that easy to believe. So he'd gotten to work on the dough, and now was adding their toppings of choice after spreading the sauce and cheese on.

What Aryll did like on her pizza was olives and ham, while Link himself favored mushrooms, pepperoni, and anchovies. An unusual combination, but then, he could have odd tastes sometimes. As for her, she preferred either anchovies or sausage, depending on her mood. Link had divided the dough into three portions so they could each have their own, and both she and Aryll trusted him to be generous with the cheese and toppings. So they were content to just sit and watch and laugh with him.

“Sooooo... can we eat in the living room and watch a movie?” Aryll asked as Link washed his hands, the pizzas in the oven and a timer set. “Pleaaaaaaase?”

“Of course.” Link smiled and ruffled her hair. “Why don't you go pick out a blanket and spread it out so we can have a picnic?”

“Ooh!” Aryll's eyes lit up. “Okay! I'll be right back!” She scrambled out of her chair and raced out of the kitchen.

“What an indulgent brother you are.” Mipha got up too, but only so she could walk over and kiss Link on the cheek before helping him clean up the mess he'd made.

“I, well...” Link blushed, his eyes lighting up with a simple joy at her show of affection. “I want her to have fun, you know? Do stuff she normally doesn't get to do when our parents are around.”

Our parents. The way Link always talked, it was easy to forget that his mother had remarried years ago after his father died when he was four, and had had Aryll when he was all of ten. Mipha still remembered it like it was yesterday, his excitement at getting to be a big brother when he raced over to tell her the news. He'd never seen Aryll as a “half” sister, and in fact insisted to everyone that she was just his sister. It was so sweet. So typical of him. Little wonder she loved him as she did, when he was so lovely a person as this.

“And that is very sweet of you.” Mipha smiled and leaned up to kiss him on the lips; she was rewarded with a happy little sigh as he pulled her close and returned the kiss.

Unfortunately, it was destined to be a short-lived one. “I'm back, I got it all—hey!” Aryll stomped her foot. “Stop being all lovey-dovey for a second and come see!”

“Alright, alright,” Link said, laughing despite the fresh blush spreading over his face and all the way to the tips of his ears. Mipha took one of his hands, Aryll the other, and he let himself be led along to the living room.

#thanks for the ask!#my writing #miphlink #mipha #loz

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marahuyos · 3 years

Text

“Wanna go out sometime?“ with pre-timeskip Dimitri, pre-timeskip Bernadetta, and Chie?

“wanna go out sometime?” ft. dimitri and bernadetta from three houses and chie from persona 4

*:･ﾟ✧ channeling my old high school cringe memories with this kek

gn!reader

tw: reader is a noble for the three houses request

✧ Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd

It was so hard for you to even muster the courage to look at him in the eye that you were sure your ancestors are rolling over their graves next to Seiros.

All of your etiquette training went out the window as soon as Dimitri greeted you with a wave. You couldn’t meet his eyes as you quickly stuffed your mouth with cake. You were surprised that you didn’t choke on them considering that they were the creamiest cakes that the kitchen provided. Oh gods, what if you had cake stuck on your face and here you were stuffing your face full of sweets?

“I’m a bit honored that you invited me.” He said suddenly, and you had to bite back a choke and force the cakes into your mouth and your throat immediately regretted it. “It’s not often that we get to talk to each other without interruption. I’m honestly glad.”

You gulped down the tea to clear your throat as you met his eyes finally. “Y-Yeah, I hope that you didn’t find it too forward.”

He shook his head quickly, almost looking like a child who was caught doing something bad. “N-Not at all! I enjoy the time we spend together!”

Immediately, you flushed brightly at his words. He still looked like he was flushed from assuming that you were forcing him to have tea with you and not the absolute heartwarming words that he spouted from his mouth. You opened your mouth to try and tell him the implications of his words but he beat you to it.

His face immediately reddened, almost turning into a tomato and your brain made the poor judgment that he looked like a plate of pasta with marinara sauce. You had to stuff your mouth with more cake in order to not spit out your saliva from your laughing.

“N-Not in that sense!” He stammered. “But I truly mean that-but n-not in that context...!”

You swallowed your cake. “You wanna go out sometime?”

Now it was his turn to choke on something. “P-Pardon?”

“This is a pretty bad tea party with how we look like,” You spat out, noting how both of you were probably flustered beyond all recognition, “s-so... why not try for a new date?”

You were honestly surprised that came out smoothly.

You weren’t lying that you were flustered beyond recognition; your eyes were blown wide as your face was practically on fire. Dimitri wasn’t faring any better-his face was still red as the Bolganone tomes.

But his swift ‘yes’ was all the coolness that you needed.

✧ Bernadetta von Varley

“C’mon Bernie...” The girl hyped herself in front of her mirror. “You can totally do this! They asked you out from all the other people in the monastery for Seiros’s sake!”

It was a miracle for Bernadetta to even give praise to herself. It was even more of a miracle that she agreed willingly to go outside with someone. It was usually someone forcing her to go outside for lessons. And yet, here she was, doing the opposite of... well, Bernie things.

“Just... act normal.” She chided herself, looking at her mirror. Her reflection showed her messy mop of hair, her eyebags beneath her shaking pupils, her permanent frown as she began to see frown lines. It didn’t take long for Bernadetta to cry out in frustration and cover her face in her hands.

“Bernie?” She heard from outside and she let out a scream. “I’m here to pick you up for our tea time!”

She let out another (muffled) terrified scream as she scrambled for any sort of cover to protect her face, even though she was in the safety of her own room. The urge to huddle back to her bed was tempting but your insistent knocking was making her freeze in place.

“J-Just a second!” She called out, removing her hands from her face. She breathed in and out, recalling the old exercises Edelgard forced her to remember. Look them in the eye, keep your head up, and make sure your voice is clear. With newfound vigor, she opened the door wide-open. The glaring sun casted down its rays behind you, almost giving you a halo as her eyes squinted against the shining light. To be honest, Bernadetta didn’t even think she was hallucinating as she opens her mouth to say something.

“Do you wanna go out sometime?”

Not that kind of something!

Somehow, the sun slowly lost it’s shine, leaving Bernadetta to see you clearly. And to her horror, she sees your flustered face and she realized that those words weren’t just a figment of her imagination.

Before she could run back to her room, you quickly grasped the door so she wouldn’t shut it. “W-Wait, I thought I already asked you out?”

She screamed at the words, back to hiding her face again as she feels the blood rushing to her cheeks. “D-Don’t listen to what I said! I-I didn’t mean it!”

“S-So do you still want to have that tea time?” You asked shyly, not wanting to provoke her further.

“YES!”

Dorothea and Edelgard, who were watching the exchange behind a stack of crates, both facepalmed at the sight of Bernadetta trying her best.

✧ Chie Satonaka

“You wanna go out sometime?”

In retrospect, maybe Chie should’ve eased up her kick when you asked her that.

She’s still bowing down next to your cot, feeling bad that she rendered you immobile for the remainder of the school day. Embarrassment didn’t even come close to how Chie was feeling. Like seriously, who punts their crush’s gut when they ask her out? If Yosuke was nearby, he would’ve laughed his stomach off.

“I’m still so sorry...” She whimpered, apologizing for the umpteenth time. She can’t even look you in the eye as she sets her sights on her lap. Her fingers fidgeted on top of them, the feeling of wanting to kick herself never felt so good.

She hears you groan and the rustling of sheets before she hears you laugh. “I mean, it’s not that I wasn’t expecting that. I was sure you were gonna hurt me before I would even say anything.”

She groaned, burying her face in her hands as she almost felt like crying. Great, first she hurt you, now she made you think she was a violent thug? Can anything else go worse this day?

You gasped from her reaction and you immediately sat up. “N-Not that I think you’re scary! W-What I meant was--”

Before you could probably bury yourself even further, your side began acting up. You yelped from the pain, hands flying to your bruised side as you sucked in a breath between your teeth.

Chie immediately shot up, eyes widening at the sight of your pained self. Her hands shot forward, grabbing your shoulders as she pushed you back on the bed. “Hey! Don’t push yourself!”

Her worry outweighed the compromising position she placed herself in. She brought you back down to lie on the cot as she stood back. "Don't be too rash on yourself! Geez, you nearly gave me a heart attack."

You chuckled, leaving her confused on why you were laughing at a time like this. She waited for you to calm down, the blush on her cheeks slightly fading away.

"Sorry..." You said, slightly out of breath. "It's just that... This is an embarrassing first date, huh...?"

The raging blush returned immediately. Chie had to look away from your sheepish face as she fiddled with the hem of her jacket. "Wh-What's with that 180 turn?!"

You chuckled once more, but Chie soon found out you weren't faring any better. The flustered look on your face was something she won't mind staring at for a long time. The guilt of putting you in the school clinic was far back in her mind. As you continue to laugh, she slowly laughs along with you. The situation that brought you here really was comedic, now that she thought about it.

God, or maybe Yosuke was rubbing off on her.

"I mean..." She started, looking at you in the eye with a shy look. "We can always start over, can't we?"

#fire emblem #fe3h #fire emblem three houses #fe3h imagines #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd imagines #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd x reader #bernadetta von varley #bernadetta von varley imagines #bernadetta von varley x reader #chie satonaka #chie satonaka x reader #chie satonaka imagines #persona #persona 4 #persona 4 imagines #mara.400 event

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paralleledmediaexperience · 3 years

Text

a part 2 to this ficlet as requested by @xanthomonus in the notes! I’ve got at least one more part conceptualized (no way you can guess what’ll happen there) though i may extend it or add more, so if anyone would like to be tagged let me know!!

Sam is insistent that they try to research ways to get Cas back. Jack has explained that Amara won’t fail- it is simply the process of extracting an Angel from the Empty that takes time, since she didn’t want to wake or anger it like… well, like what Jack had done. He could feel Amara’s sincerity in a way that he was certain Sam and Dean wouldn’t understand, let alone be comforted by. She’d been in his head, crossed with his soul in the transfer of power. He’s kind of sure that if he hadn’t missed Cas so much too, she probably would have ignored Dean’s request altogether.

But it makes Sam look less frazzled when he’s able to lose himself in the research for something, and Jack doesn’t mind sitting with him and pretending he’s not hiding chapter books behind the large tomes. He’s been working his way steadily through some books Sam had collected for him last time they had been out shopping, and while he had enjoyed the first one (a mystery about siblings called the Boxcar children even though they no longer lived in a boxcar) he’d chosen Matilda next, because she sounded nice. And he was right! Matilda was his new favorite, even more than his last favorite, which had been Where the Wild Things Are.

He doesn’t even notice when Dean walks in, because Matilda had just glued a hat to her father’s head, but he does when Sam says, “What, none for me?”

“You’re a grown man, Sammy, you can make your own food. He’s four years old with a foot injury.” Dean says, scowling at Sam. The effect is rather ruined by both Dean’s flour dusted apron and the plate in his hands, and Jack smiles when he turns back to him instead. “You both missed lunch.”

Sam grumbles, but gets up anyway, stretching. “If you didn’t make me food how could I have missed it?”

“Shut up,” Dean shoots back half-heartedly. “Here, Jack, and don’t let him steal off your plate just because he got distracted reading.”

“Thanks, Dean!” Jack says brightly, moving his secret reading setup to the table instead of his lap and pushing it away, ignoring the way Sam’s eyebrows raise when he notices his no longer hidden book. Dean sets the plate down and ignores that Sam sends him one last annoyed face before heading off to the kitchen, where Jack knows there is going to be a plate ready for Sam, or at least a serving of the macaroni and cheese sprinkled with bacon bits and breadcrumbs that Dean’s brought him. “Are you making something else?”

“Just some bread,” Dean grimaces down at the mess of flour across his front, and Jack has to contain his giggles when the movement reveals a streak of flour in Dean’s hair.

“Just some bread,” Sam echoes, swinging back through the door with his own plate of macaroni. “Dean. Do I need to remind you that we need vegetables and can’t live off of carbs and meat alone?”

“It’s macaroni, Sam, quit whining and just enjoy it,” Dean rolls his eyes. “I swear, you’re the pickiest-”

“It’s not being picky, it’s eating healthy-”

“Same difference!” Dean insists, his twitching lips betraying the irritation in his voice.

“Just one meal with something green a day, Dean, I’m begging you.”

Eyes flicking back and forth as they snipe at each other, Jack takes an appreciative bite of the macaroni. Expectedly delicious, because Dean made it and Dean didn't make bad food the way Sam sometimes did. Mostly.

“Then beg,” Dean proclaims stubbornly, eyes narrowed. Sam doesn’t respond, his own expression pinching up into very familiar exasperation.

“Actually, I’ve never had brussel sprouts before, and Claire said I should try them!” Jack interjects. He isn’t sure what a brussel sprout is beyond a vegetable, but Claire had said he’d like them and that he should bother Dean into making them.

Dean looks unimpressed though, gaze switching from Sam back to meet Jack’s eyes. “You want me to make you brussel sprouts?”

“Please?” Jack tries, unsure if Dean thinks there is something wrong with brussel sprouts or if he is still simply offended by the concept of vegetables.

The please works, Dean’s capitulation coming in the form of a displeased huff and an, “Alright, fine.” He swings back around to point at Sam accusingly. “I’m blaming you for this.”

“As long as we get something from each of the five food groups, sure,” Sam says, taking his seat again. “And no, you don’t get to use tomatoes as the catch all.”

“Fine,” Dean bites out again, clapping Jack on the shoulder as he starts to turn away.

“Thank you Dean! Love you!” Jack says, and he hears Sam’s quick inhale just as he sees Dean almost stumble and he smiles to himself.

“Love you too, kid,” Dean manages to get out, hand squeezing just a bit tighter on his shoulder. “Alright, go back to your books, I have to go to the store for brussel sprouts apparently.”

The speed at which Dean walks away couldn’t be called running away but Jack definitely thinks it qualifies as retreating, and he straightens up a bit, very proud of himself for receiving his second ‘love you’ from Dean in twice as many days. He watches Dean get out the door before turning back around in his seat.

Sam is staring at him with a blinking mixture of incredulity and open affection, the smile on his face wide, if confused. “That’s… new?”

“Yep,” Jack confirms, pulling Matilda back towards himself and abandoning the pretense of reading the book Sam had suggested he search through. Sam had already searched it himself twice. He doesn’t manage to open it, because Sam continues.

“And I don’t need to check that it’s actually Dean?” Sam teases, bewilderment clear and pride clearer. “Saying yes to vegetables AND and I love you?”

“It turns out,” A voice whipcracks out, startling them both, “That Dean Winchester is actually a big old softie at heart. Who knew?”

“Balthazar?” Sam says, and Jack almost gets bowled over by the wave of shock. Balthazar? He knew that name. He stares openly, unheeded as Balthazar talks to Sam.

“Well, except Castiel, of course, but that Profound Bond of theirs hardly makes it fair,” The angel says, stepping forward. “Yes, Sam, I’ve been hand delivered back from the dead, at the temporary cost of my Grace. Don’t look at me like that.”

“Your grace?” Jack asks, curious about how Sam had been looking at him, but unwilling to turn around and take his eyes off of the angel Cas had once killed. “What do you mean?”

“Ah,” Balthazar strides over, and before Jack can say anything he’s got him clasped by both shoulders, staring into his eyes with a curiosity so intense Jack almost steps back towards the table. “And you’re Jack, I assume? I was warned that there would be no murdering of nephilim if I returned.”

“So Amara freed you?” Sam cuts in, and Jack huffs out a small breath as Balthazar lets him go to spin back around and face him. “Did she have a reason?”

Jack doesn’t voice his own question, which feels far more important. He wants to know when Cas will be back.

“Uh, yes?” Balthazar sneers. “Most of the angels are dead, Sam, no thanks to you and your brother and my brother. I’ll admit some of us deserved it- were rather asking for it, if you ask me- but it did leave dear aunty with rather less personnel than she wants to run heaven with.”

“She’s not grabbing all the angels, is she?” Jack breathes, terrified suddenly, despite Balthazar’s assurance that Amara had apparently set him off limits.

“Not a chance. Seemed to have a list in mind, and I think I was simply the first she found. I thought perhaps…” He trails off, just for a split second before he grins again, bright and covering up anything he might have been about to show. “Well, I didn’t, actually. Rather hard to do when you’re sleeping in eternal torment.”

Jack catches Sam’s flinch, and frowns at the other man. “Are you sure you were the first?”

Balthazar ticks his head to one side, considering. “Well, I’m the first to show up here, I’ll assume by your reactions, and given that she’s bringing us back graceless, I imagine any others will also be sent here.”

Jack scowls. If so, then Cas may be further off than he hoped. But this was- conclusive proof. Amara could do it, and now they would just have to deal with powerless angels until she came back and dealt with them herself. And Cas would be home.

Sam sighs, deep and weary and cheerless. “Yeah. That would make sense. Well, we can put this away, then.” He closes the book on the table with a hefty thump and then stacks Jack’s abandoned tome on top of it. “And I suppose we should try to make sure we have rooms ready. Jack, would you-”

“I’ll call Dean and let him know,” Jack says, suddenly tired and wanting to get away from Balthazar, still staring at him hawkishly, wanting to be away from the library, where more angels could show up without warning. He wants to hide in his room or possibly Cas’ until Amara brings him back and takes all the others back to heaven or whatever she planned to do. He wishes viciously in his head that he hadn’t opened his mouth about brussel sprouts and that Dean was still here in the kitchen where Jack could escape to without feeling alone. As it is, he grabs Matilda and his plate, still half full of macaroni, ready to walk away, but he catches Balthazar’s face again.

“You’re hungry,” Jack realizes as he says it. Balthazar has a facial journey of his own to deal with that fact before he grimaces.

“Human,” he says, displeasure and embarrassment warring on his features, even as his stomach growls.

Jack doesn’t want Balthazar here, he doesn’t want Amara to try to find anyone but Cas, or at least to find Cas first, and he most definitely doesn’t want to share his food that Dean made him, or Dean and Sam’s attention in general, and he swallows all of this down and he says, “Here. If you’ve never been human before, you’ve never really tasted food, right? Dean’s always makes the best food.”

He holds out the plate and drops it into Balthazar’s hands and tries his best not to stomp out like a real child, or run out like he’s scared, but he makes it around the corner and leans against the wall, out of sight.

Except that Sam immediately pokes his head around, following him. “Jack?”

“I don’t like this,” Jack says plainly, staring up at Sam like maybe he could explain why all of the good feelings he’d been having had shriveled up in his stomach and refused to leave, even though Sam clearly didn’t think Balthazar was an actual threat to them.

“I could tell,” Sam says, almost teasing again, but he drops it immediately. “Is it okay, Jack? Because we can absolutely just send him and any others that show up to the nearest motel instead.”

“No,” He says immediately, but he pauses after, thinking. He takes a deep breath in, trying to ease the odd tightness inside his chest. “No. They can stay here until Amara gets back. I just…”

“Don’t like it,” Sam nods, as if that explains it, and Jack guesses it does. “Well, Dean won’t like it either, so you can let him know that the two of you are free to hole up wherever you’d like to get away from them, and I’ll try to deal with them myself as much as I can.”

The tightness in his chest does soften, another breath rushing out like he’d been holding it. “Thanks, Sam.”

“You know I love you too, Jack,” Sam says, earnest and open and Jack barely makes the decision to hug him but he ends up wrapped up in Sam’s arms anyhow.

“I do. I know. Love you, Sam,” Jack says, fixing his grip on Matilda as he pulls away. “Okay, I need to go call Dean, because if he leaves the store before-”

“He won’t want to turn around, yeah,” Sam laughs.

Jack can’t help the smile that bursts across his face. “Well, I can’t use it too often, or it might not work anymore, but maybe if I say please.”

#Jack Kline #Sam Winchester #Dean Winchester #Balthazar #supernatural #my fic #creativecaviar #me remembering that time i tricked my cousin into eating brussel sprouts. ehehehehe.#also!!! what the FUCK balthazar's voice is very difficult but also very fun and rewarding to write so PLEASE tell me whether it reads okay #my in my head: ive seen four year olds become territorial when their parents have visitors this is gonna be SO funny #anyway Jack IS going to get I love you's from all his dads thank you much. we just gotta wait for Cas.#this isn't going on ao3 until i have a good name for it so if you like reading better there suggest a fic name this time so it can go up

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yuriko-mukami · 9 months

Text

His Possession Dark 09

Brighter light peeked between the black curtains when Yuriko opened her eyes for the next time. She let her hazy gaze travel through the room that was much tidier than her own, but it was truly the armchair and a bookshelf that got her focus.

There was a glass of water waiting for her again. Yuriko sat up slowly, reached for the glass, and drank every last drop. As she put the glass down her eyes caught her eyeglasses on the nightstand. She reached for them and set them on her face, seeing the room more clearly now.

Slowly Yuriko stood up; the floor was cool against her feet which were only covered with thin socks. She shivered as she walked to the bookshelf and wrapped her hoodie better around her body. Yet instantly her fingers started to track the book backs; every book on the shelf was put there neatly and it was obvious that their places were carefully chosen. Yuriko’s fingers stopped ever so often to an interesting title. So many of the tomes weren't in Japanese which surprised her. She didn’t recognize all the languages and now she couldn’t help but wonder if Ruki spoke all of those.

And he probably isn't even Japanese… but would it be rude to ask where he is from? Maybe I should wait until he tells on his own accord.

What made Yuriko think that Ruki would do so? She didn't truly know and neither did she have time to ponder because just then the door opened, and the said vampire wandered in with the tray again.

"Why are you up, Livestock?"

Such a cold voice, yet Yuriko realized that the ice was still missing from Ruki’s eyes. Something had shifted.

"Umh… I woke up and felt a little better…"

One steely look was enough. Yuriko left the shelf and slipped back to the bed. Ruki sat down next to her, touching her cheek with the back of his hand.

"You are still hotter than usual. Eat now, then you take a bath," Ruki commanded. This time the meal wasn’t porridge but soup. The aroma of tomatoes, maybe also carrots, greeted Yuriko. The mere thought of those vegetables was enough to water her mouth, bringing a cozy feeling along.

Without complaints, Yuriko took the spoon and started to eat. She couldn’t recall the last time someone had made her meal twice in a row. But Ruki… he had made her porridge and now this soup, not to mention all the school lunches. Maybe it was Yuriko’s fuzzy state of mind, but the meal made warmth settle deep within her. Suddenly something hot ran down her cheeks, but cool fingers wiped the lonely tear away.

"Do you like the food so much that it brings tears to your eyes? Such silly livestock…"

"Umh… I… thank you, Ruki."

Yuriko’s words were but a mumble. Hastily she continued eating, savoring every spoonful of soup. This was almost like a vacation; right now, nobody expected anything else from her than eating the meals and getting rest… but still she worried if her father would be mad.

Of course, Dad will be. I should at least call him as soon as possible… and I guess I need to go home right after the fever goes down.

After Yuriko had emptied the bowl Ruki moved the tray to the nightstand. The silence lingered between them.

"So… eh… thank you for… everything. But I should go back home soon. Dad will be mad at me if I stay."

The words came out with a struggle as if Yuriko’s tongue had been sticky and tried to hold them down.

"That man does not deserve to be called father after leaving you on the floor like that. And he has no right to tell you who you spend your time with. You are already a young adult."

"It’s not that simple," Yuriko said and averted her gaze. "I… I failed. My third year of high school. I'm already 19 and this is my second round. Dad was very mad at me, I shamed him. So, I'm trying to pay back…"

Ruki listened quietly as Yuriko told how she had skipped school and failed at everything except literature. She didn’t say anything about her reasons. Not about Haruko and bullying, not about her mother either.

"Pieces do not fit," Ruki said. "You are not this type of person, Livestock. What are you leaving out? You should always tell everything to your master, the complete truth."

Yuriko’s mouth dropped open. Of course, Ruki had seen right through her! But there was no way she could talk about Haruko, not after how people had judged them. Yet Ruki’s eyes gazed at Yuriko like he was trying to pierce her with that glance alone. She meandered, knowing she had to say something.

“There was already trouble in school, people didn’t like me… and then Mom went missing, she just left Dad and me. Things got worse; I couldn’t take it…”

The silence between the two deepened as Yuriko’s words lingered in the air. Ruki’s eyes darkened slowly. Was he disappointed in Yuriko too? She knew she had been weak; she should have fought her way through everything but…

“Your mother left you…”

That was all Ruki said. He stood up and held out his hand. With shaking fingers Yuriko took it and let him pull her out of the bed. His palm was as cold as always, yet Yuriko had a strange feeling of warmth. She couldn’t put the puzzle pieces together, not when her head was this mushy.

“You are going to take that bath now, Livestock,” Ruki said. “Can you walk?”

“Umh… I think so, yes.”

Still holding her hand Ruki led Yuriko out of his bedroom. They entered a long hallway with black carpeting and equally black wooden doors, several of them, while the wall was sturdy, white-painted wood. The lighting gave an impression of older times and the whole place had a kind of European atmosphere.

This building must be huge! And Ruki has a limousine too. He truly must be rich. Oh my gosh! I… I’m not worthy… Why is he interested in me at this length? He should go after a girl who is from the same social class, not someone like me… no matter how good my blood is.

“Oi, why are you dozing off? Do you feel dizzy?” Ruki’s question brought Yuriko back to reality but when she failed to answer fast enough, she suddenly found herself in his arms. With fast-paced steps, he carried her through the hallway all the way to a fancy bathroom which was the next place to take her breath away.

Both the walls and the floor were made of black ceramic tiles. While the bathtub wasn’t too big it went perfectly with the style of the room. The huge mirror above two sinks reflected the couple, and Yuriko shifted as she saw her uncommonly pale face with red dots on her cheeks. Undersides of her eyes were darker than usual and her hair sweaty and messy. A sudden shame washed over her when she thought about what she must look like in Ruki’s eyes at the moment. Never should he have seen her like this.

Yet Ruki said nothing about Yuriko’s looks. Instead, he put her down next to the sink and went to fill the bathtub with hot water. A faint scent of lavender raised in the air, making Yuriko inhale deeply as it mixed with Ruki’s personal smell that was becoming rather familiar to her.

“Take off your clothes,” Ruki said without looking at Yuriko. “While you should not stay too long in a bath when you have a fever, the steam will make breathing easier for you and hot water can help with muscle ache.”

Yuriko gasped with the first sentence and all the rest went right past her ears. She tugged her hoodie and glanced at her tiny shorts. It was bad enough that Ruki had seen her like this, there was no way—

Ruki turned around, his eyes darting to Yuriko. With two steps he was right in front of her.

“Hurry up, Livestock, unless you want your master to do it for you.”

“Umh… I… can’t…”

“Do you usually take a bath with your clothes on?”

“Of course not!”

Yuriko’s head started to feel dizzier than before as her cheeks burned. She averted her gaze, finding her toes curling against the tile floor. Her heart bounced uncontrollably and at the same time, her nose went so blocked it became hard to breathe.

Cold fingers brushed Yuriko’s skin when Ruki grabbed her hoodie gently and dragged on side of it down her shoulder in a slow manner.

“This is… embarrassing,” Yuriko mumbled. “I can’t… you can’t…”

“I can and I will if you are not doing it, Livestock. There is nothing you should be embarrassed about when you are with your master. You need to get into that bath before resting more.”

The tone of Ruki’s voice told that there was no arguing with him, yet Yuriko trembled. It wasn’t so long ago Ruki had seen… much, but this was still different. A strange feeling snaked in her stomach as the waves of shame pushed over her.

“Please… don’t look…” Yuriko mumbled as she turned her back on Ruki. Never had she gotten rid of her clothes so fast. Hoodie went down to the floor, and the top and shorts along her undergarments followed. She was in the hot water in seconds, not caring how it tingled her skin and made it red all over with the heat. She buried herself in it all the way to her chin, being grateful for the lavender-scented foam that wafted above the water.

“Good girl,” Ruki said. “Now stay there and wash yourself properly. If you fail, your master will do it.”

“I… I can do it!” Yuriko’s flustered voice echoed from the tile walls.

When Yuriko got up from the bath Ruki had left her with fresh clothes taken from her closet. She had a fuzzy memory of him grabbing whatever from her room before they left the apartment.

My underwear… He touched those and the old ones too. Ehhh… better not think about that too much.

As quickly as possible Yuriko dressed in her skirt and top before wrapping herself in the cardigan, she wore with her school uniform. She shivered as she stepped out of the bathroom to the hallway.

Which way to go? I think I should go back to his room… but all the doors look the same…

There were voices coming from somewhere and curiosity took a hold of Yuriko. She tiptoed in the direction where the speech seemed to come from. The carpet was soft under her feet and muffled most of the sounds, but she still tried to move as quietly as possible, not truly knowing why that felt so important.

“Ya brought a human girl here? Have ya gone mad?! Hah?”

“It’s the same girl whose bag Ruki-kun asked me to get a couple of days ago. I recognize her scent. It was all over her stuff.”

“What the hell, Ruki? Ya told us we ain’t bringing chicks in the house! Ya told me that we have more important tasks than going after meaningless prey!”

“Let’s listen to… what Ruki… has to say…”

“I am sorry for my act—” Ruki’s voice was cut as Yuriko took another step forward. “Wait!”

Yuriko squeaked when suddenly Ruki appeared right in front of her. He took hold of her arm, preventing her to go any further. The touch was gentle but so tight that Yuriko had no way to meander from it.

“Did you enjoy the bath, Livestock?”

“Umh… yes, thank you. I feel much better now…” Yuriko mumbled, wondering what was going on. But she knew it was not her place to ask. Instead, she should hurry home. “I’m grateful for everything you’ve done, Ruki, but I can’t stay.”

“You will stay until you are recovered. I cannot trust you in the hands of that man before I can be sure that you can function on your own again.”

“That man is my father.”

Ruki sighed, running his hand through his messy hair as if Yuriko had said something annoying when she only spoke the truth.

“It is admirable that you respect him and want to go back home but I am not letting you go. You will stay and rest, is that clear?”

Yuriko blinked and swallowed, not knowing what to say. She shifted but didn’t try to free herself from Ruki’s grasp. An image from earlier played through her mind, her father telling her that she couldn’t see Ruki anymore, slapping her cheek because of the bite marks.

It’s not like we are together or anything, but Dad didn’t even ask what happened… He just assumed things. Still, I want to talk to him, yet it can be better if I wait for a moment. But it didn’t sound like Ruki’s family wants me here. What should I do…?

Yuriko opened her mouth but before she could say anything a blond boy from their school appeared in the hallway.

“Fresh out of the bath, M-neko-chan?”

What did he just call me? It’s bad enough that Ruki keeps calling me livestock!

The blond boy walked toward Ruki and Yuriko, leaning towards her and glancing at her with his pale blue eyes. He was very good-looking. It dawned on Yuriko that this was the boy many girls kept whispering about at school. Somehow, he had a rather intimidating aura that made Yuriko want to back off, but she wasn’t going anywhere while Ruki held her arm.

“Hah! Can’t ya see Sow fears ya, Kou?”

The loud voice made Yuriko almost jump. Instinctively she inched closer to Ruki as a young man even taller than him walked into the hallway. His light brown hair was tied in a ponytail, and he smelled like soil. Yuriko didn’t know how she was able to smell that, but it was obvious.

“So… this is the girl… Ruki brought at home…”

Yet a third person appeared in the hallway. He had bandages wrapped around his neck and wrists and there was something in him that instantly made Yuriko worried, not about her own safety but his.

“Kou, Yuma, Azusa,” Ruki said. “This is Yuriko. She will stay with us while she is recovering from her cold. Yuriko, they are my brothers. Do not worry, I will make sure that they will not bother you while you are here.”

“It is nice… to meet you… Yuriko-san,” Azusa said. Maybe he smiled, maybe not but he spoke so slowly that Yuriko almost forgot which words he had started when he reached the end of his sentence.

“Umh… It’s nice to meet you all too,” Yuriko said, quickly bowing but then leaning toward Ruki. Her head felt dizzy again but even with a blocked nose, she could smell something behind everything else. These three had the same scent as Ruki, but it was stronger in them than in him. And for some reason, that scent sent shivers down Yuriko’s spine.

The scent of a vampire, she couldn’t help but think. They all are the same… vampires.

"I will take you to rest now," Ruki said. He loosened his grasp from Yuriko’s arm and held her hand instead, pulling her with him and guiding her back to his room. She followed without a question.

"Umh… so, you have three vampire brothers…" Yuriko found herself saying, realizing how easily the words came. Vampires, kitsune… Her world had gone upside down rather quickly, yet she had small worries like getting through the school year and not angering her father more.

"I did not say they are vampires," Ruki said as he pushed Yuriko to sit on the bed.

"I kind of smelled it…" The words slipped between Yuriko’s lips before she prevented herself. She clapped her hand in front of her mouth, staring at Ruki with wide eyes.

The cold fingers took Yuriko’s wrist, pulling her hand down while others grabbed her chin.

"For a human with a cold, you have a very keen nose, Livestock."

"I've always been like that…" Not this much though. Could it be the same reason why I can speak with Yuuto now? But what was the reason anyway?

"Is that so? That is untypical for a mere human."

"Umh… is it? I'm… sorry…"

I must not say anything more. Yuuto warned me, and now I'm in a big manor with four vampires and no way out…

"Why are you apologizing? No one can change their true nature,” Ruki said as he leaned closer, near to Yuriko’s ear. “The question is what is that true nature of yours? And do not lie to your master.”

“I…”

Unbearable heat covered Yuriko’s face, and her head started to feel dizzier than ever. Even though Ruki was holding her she staggered while sitting on the bed. A cold arm wrapped around her and held her upwards position. The room was going blank in her eyes.

“Such weak livestock…”

Ruki pushed Yuriko down to the bed, covering her with the blanket. A sight left Yuriko’s lips as her temples ached. Ruki brushed her bangs aside and his cold fingers eased the heat on her face a little. Without thinking Yuriko lifted her hand, touching Ruki’s lightly, not wanting him to move away.

“I am only going to take your glasses,” Ruki said and removed her grip. He pulled her glasses away carefully, putting them back on the nightstand. “You should sleep more, Livestock.”

“Your touch…” Yuriko mumbled.

“Hmm? You liked that? You should always be this honest with your master.” Fingers found Yuriko’s cheek again. While she had quite enjoyed the hot bath, this cooling touch pushed the feverish feeling a little further. Yet she couldn’t prevent her eyes from closing as the tiredness took over.

Beta read by @ruki-mukami-dl

#yuriko tsukino #yuriko's story

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be11atrixthestrange · 3 years

Text

Pippin’s Perfumes

How did Ron end up buying Hermione perfume for Christmas fifth year?

Read more fifth year moments here :)

________________________

Hermione didn't join the boys for their last trip to Hogsmeade before the Holidays. "I have too much homework, and so do you. You shouldn't have waited until the last minute to get your holiday shopping done, there was perfect opportunity last month-"

Harry was happy to escape her nagging for an afternoon. Exams were looming, and Hermione was falling back into her old patterns of revising constantly, and guilting anyone else who wasn't. It was the last thing Harry needed.

It also allowed Harry and Ron space to find her a present without her breathing down their necks. Harry suggested the bookstore- Tomes and Scrolls, and the pair spent the first half of their Hogsmeade trip looking at books.

"The one time Hermione doesn't come with us to Hogsmeade, and we're still in a bookstore," said Ron grumpily, as he flipped through a book about advanced knitting spells, before tossing it back on the shelf.

"Hey that's a good present for Hermione, you should get it," said Harry, reaching for the book. "She's been knitting a lot-"

"Exactly, and I don't want her to think I support it," said Ron as he eyed the book with disdain. "Dobby looks ridiculous in all those hats."

Harry shrugged. He thought Hermione would like it. "Then I will." Harry tossed the book in his bag, feeling relief that his gifts were all accounted for. The same couldn't be said about Ron. "She'll like anything, just pick something."

"No, it's gotta be good," said Ron, as he continued to scan the books. Ron had never given gift-giving too much thought. This year was very different- Ron was trying to compete with Viktor Krum's mystery gift, and it was clearly causing him quite a bit of stress. As amusing as it was to Harry, it was also starting to get on his nerves.

"What about this one? "Quidditch Basics For Spectators"?"

Ron laughed. "I think she'll be offended."

"How To Win at Wizards Chess." Harry held up another book.

"Nah, I'm keeping my secrets to myself."

"Men Who Love Dragons Too Much?"

"Not the message I'm trying to send," grinned Ron.

"What message are you trying to send?" asked Harry as he returned the book to its place.

"Not sure," shrugged Ron. "Maybe that I know her better than Krum."

Harry sighed. It was going to be a long day. "What about this one- The Big Book of Beauty Charms." Harry held up the book. "You know, because she's a girl."

"You're kidding mate," said Ron with raised eyebrows. "Too risky."

Harry nodded and tossed the book back onto the shelf.

"Home Life and Social Habits of British Muggles," laughed Harry as he held up a new find. "No wait, this one. Hairy Heart: A Guide To Wizards Who Won't Commit."

"Take this seriously, mate," sighed Ron as he anxiously ran a hand through his hair.

"Sorry," responded Harry..

The pair continued to scour the bookshelves for another hour, while Ron talked himself out of every purchase. By the time they arrived at the checkout counter, Ron was still empty-handed.

"Maybe I'll find something somewhere else," said Ron with a disappointed shrug.

"Maybe." Harry led the way back onto the High Street.

Harry and Ron continued down the road, toward the Three Broomsticks, when Ron stopped abruptly. "Have you ever been in here?"

Harry looked in the direction Ron was pointing, toward a shop called J. Pippin's Potions. "No, but they supply the school with Potions ingredients."

The sign in the window had caught Ron's attention.

The Holidays are here! Make your favorite witch smile with our new line- Pippins Perfumes! Unique concoctions just for her!

Harry shrugged noncommittally. "I dunno, just get her some new quills or something-"

But Ron hadn't waited for Harry's permission, he was already in the door. Harry groaned as he followed him into the shop.

"What can I do for you two?" The shop clerk was an older, jolly man with short fuzzy white hair, and gold glasses.

"Er, well, I just wanted to ask about your perfume potions, I guess."

"I see," said the clerk excitedly. "For your lady, I presume?"

Ron's face was boiling red. Harry occupied himself by staring at a jar of lacewing flies.

"Well, not really. Just a friend."

The clerk nodded slowly. "Peculiar present for a friend," he said as he shot Harry a curious look. Harry simply shrugged. "Very well then. Every perfume we make is unique to the witch, so I just have you answer a few questions about her."

Ron shifted awkwardly in place. "Um, sure," he said with a glance back at the door, as if wishing it were locked. "What do I need to answer?"

The clerk pulled out a piece of parchment and a quill. "Well, first, what's her name? "

"Uh. Hermione. Granger."

"Her birthday?"

"September 19th," said Ron excitedly, as if he was trying to answer before another classmate.

"Great. What is her favorite color?"

"Light blue," Ron said confidently. Harry grinned at the specificity. It was the color of the dress robes she wore to the Yule Ball last year.

"And her favorite flavor?"

Ron thought for a second. "Peppermint."

The scribbling clerk looked up from his parchment. "Perfect. Her favorite animal?"

"Erm- I'm not completely sure," said Ron nervously. He glanced back at Harry for assistance, but Harry was busy pretending to study a pamphlet about the uses of Moonstone. "Maybe a cat," he said with a shrug. "Sorry I guess I don't know that one."

"Not a problem. What about her favorite season?"

"Uh, Winter. No- fall because that's when we start school. She loves school." Ron stammered.

"I'll just leave it blank if you're not sure?" said the shop clerk.

Defeated, Ron shrugged. "Yeah, I'm not sure."

"That's ok. And finally, just give me a few words that describe her." The clerk looked up through his gold spectacles.

"She's very intelligent."

Ron paused. The clerk looked up from the parchment. "Surely there's more?"

"Yeah uh, she's um.. argumentative."

"Okay," murmured the man as he wrote it down. "Another?"

"She's passionate. I guess."

"You guess?" said the shopkeeper with a chuckle. "How about one more."

Ron paused, clearly overwhelmed with the task of fitting Hermione's entire personality into four words. "Pretty," he continued in an almost-whisper.

Harry smirked to himself as he felt Ron glance nervously at him, as if he didn't want him to hear.

"Perfect," said the amused clerk. 'I can have this potion ready in an hour. Would you like to purchase it?"

"Yeah, sure," he said a little more confidently.

"I'm sure she will love it," reassured the clerk.

He was still tomato red when he called over to Harry, "Let's wait for it at the Three Broomsticks?"

Harry nodded. He was ready to get out of this store.

"Good luck," said the clerk sincerely as the two boys exited the shop.

"Erm, thanks. See you in a bit."

The boys walked in awkward silence toward the pub. It was a few minutes before Ron spoke up.

"Do you know what her favorite animal is?" asked Ron shyly. "Or her favorite season?"

"I reckon I don't," shrugged Harry. "Doesn't really come up in conversation much. Why?"

Ron shrugged. "I dunno. It sounded like I didn't know her very well."

Ron was able to answer more of those questions than Harry would have been. "You know lots of other things about her."

Ron nodded noncommittally. "Like how to get her pissed off."

"Well. Yeah." It was true, though. It took a close friend to understand exactly how to push the right buttons, and Ron knew exactly where Hermione's were.

"It's not a stupid present, is it?"

Harry shook his head, which seemed to be enough to reassure Ron. He didn't know how the gift would be received, but he was very curious to find out.

#ROMIONE #hpromione #ronweasley #Hermione Granger #ron x hermione #ron and hermione #ron and harry brotp #harry potter #hp fanfic #harry ron

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claroso · 3 years

Text

Like Real People Do

Zevran and Clara Amell have been dancing around the unnamed tension between them for months now. Finally out from underneath the thumbs of their respective jailers, they appreciate being able to take their time and enjoy the dance.

I’m referencing the Correspondence Interruptus quest in DA:O btw

Zevran lunged forwards, raking his daggers across the hurlock's side as he ducked under its swing. He felt leather armor and flesh give under his blades like butter. The monster screamed.

He danced back from the hurlock's next swipe, the rusty mace slamming into the ground. He hefted his dagger and threw it. The metal flashed as it spun through the air and lodged in its leg. Were it human, that would be a killing blow. But for a darkspawn? The thing simply growled, picked up its mace, and limped towards him.

The hair on his arms suddenly stood on end. That was the only warning he needed--he threw himself back a split second before a fireball crashed into his enemy. It screamed again, contorting in agony as it burned.

Then the carved end of a staff smashed into its head. The hurlock collapsed. Behind it, Clara Amell snarled and brought her staff down again. Its decaying skull split like a pumpkin, blood splattering across her pale face.

Zevran's heart skipped a beat.

The fire guttered out as the mage straightened, her eyes sweeping across the battlefield. A handful of steps away, Wynne and Sten stood at the ready, their weapons raised.

"We're clear!" Clara called after a moment.

They all relaxed.

Zevran grinned. Working with a mage was a rare treat with the Crows, but being able to work with a mage who could predict darkspawn attacks? Amazing. They didn't have to be on edge every second of the day. And travel went so much faster without checking for ambushes around every corner. He knew he was getting spoiled traveling with Wardens, but he was determined to enjoy it while he could.

Of course, it didn't help with bandits or anything of the non-tainted variety, but that became rarer and rarer as the stories of the last two Grey Wardens spread.

Clara barked out orders--to search the bodies, the cabin nearby--and they wordlessly complied. Hardly anything was left intact after a darkspawn attack, and this one was no exception. The house was barely standing and the animals had run off long before they arrived. And the remains of three farmers were strewn around the clearing.

Unfortunately familiar with the sight, he began searching the poor souls' home. Even with such carnage, he enjoyed working with the Wardens far more than the Crows. Clara at least listened to him. He didn't with her disagree often, but she didn't threaten bodily harm when he did.

Actually, now that he thought about it, threats of bodily harm were surprisingly rare with his new group. Except Morrigan, but the lovely witch usually kept it limited to Alistair.

And he kept a substantial cut of the loot, he thought as he rummaged through a chest at the back of the cabin. He slipped the few coins into his belt. The dirty leathers he tossed. That left a single leaf of parchment at the bottom of the chest. He broke the seal with his thumb and opened it, a smile spreading across his face.

"Zev!" Clara called. "We're leaving!"

He jumped up and rushed back to the group. Wynne dabbed at the bloodstains on her robe and Sten's face, as always, was stoically impatient. The Warden, wearing a mismatched set of armor over her Circle robes, sported her usual scowl. As he grabbed her hand and swept into an overdramatic bow, her expression shifted to confusion.

"My dear Warden." He purred, holding the letter up with a flourish. "I believe I've just won the bet."

She scoffed. "No chance in the Void. Let me see that."

"I apologize, but as I've said before," he dodged her outstretched hand and winked. "Poetry simply must be read aloud."

Sten grunted, somehow putting an entire lecture's worth of disgust into the sound, before turning on his heel and marching off.

"I rather agree with our taciturn friend. I'll see you back in town." Wynne said, starting down the trail back to Redcliffe.

"There's no way that's worse than the letter I found last week." Despite their companions' lack of enthusiasm, Clara had the slightest curve of a smile. Practically jumping up and down with excitement for her, really.

"Shall I?" Zevran said, raising an eyebrow.

She waved toward the path. "Walk while you talk, Brother Genitivi."

" 'My dearest Virginia Trueroyal,' " He said in a deep Fereldan accent.

"That's awful."

"Hush now. The audience doesn't speak. 'My dearest Virginia Trueroyal,' " He scoffed. "That can not be a real name."

She chuckled. "Get on with it."

" 'Regarding: Bodice ripped.' Oh, how scandalous!" He spun around, walking backward ahead of the Warden so he could wiggle his eyebrows at her. " 'Enclosed are seven silver and my most heartfelt apologies for said bodice.' "

Clara suddenly grabbed the front of his armor and pulled him roughly to the side, narrowly missing a tree.

He didn't stop. " 'I would blame the cold ocean spray, the loss of my favorite shirt, the bucking of the stallion,' " He winked, and she rolled her eyes. " 'or perhaps the strain of maintaining all such elements while sitting for a portrait, but I was certainly not myself. I hope you will forgive me and not take it upon yourself to find your own determined way in this world.' "

" 'Yours, Ser Rival Grouseman' " He finished with a flourish.

"That was terrible." Clara frowned.

"Exactly!" He exclaimed, delighted. "I will accept payment in silver or fine leather goods, mi estrella!"

"No, that's actually, really terrible. It's not even dirty!"

Zevran gasped. "How can you say that? The 'bucking of this stallion', the 'cold ocean spray' ripped this poor woman's bodice open!"

"It's too subtle." She argued. "I don't want flowery details and sighs in the moonlight. If you're going to talk dirty, at least give it to me straight."

"Well, if you insist."

In a very appropriate display of maturity, she stuck her tongue out at him.

"No matter." He said as they stepped into Redcliffe village. "Leliana can break our tie."

A few minutes later, they stepped into the tavern. Wynne sat at a table in the corner with a tome and a mug of ale in front of her. Sten was nowhere to be seen.

After dealing with the blood mage and possession of Connor at Redcliffe Castle, Clara had refused to stay when Teagan offered. Instead, they had found rooms in the village. Since they'd cleared the dead from the town and broke the siege, they'd been welcomed back with open arms. Any unoccupied room was free for their use. Sten had taken up in a hut on the edge of town. The mages settled in an empty house so they could practice without disturbing anyone. The rest stayed in the rooms above the tavern.

They'd only been there a week, but it was a much-needed break from their constant travel. They still hunted down pockets of darkspawn and bandits to ensure the town was safe, but they also slept in real beds and ate at the tavern every night. Leliana even volunteered at the local Chantry, dividing resources and praying with the town.

Speaking of their lively bard, Zevran spotted her rushing towards them with Barkspawn at her heels.

"You're back!" She exclaimed. "How did it go?"

"I think all the bandits ran off." Clara pulled down her hood and ruffled her sweaty blonde hair. Half of it stuck straight up, making the fierce warrior look more like the head of a broom. "Didn't see anything human all day."

"And the darkspawn?"

"Not gone, but it is a blight." She shrugged. "I think we'll leave the day after next. The guard should be able to handle what's left."

"More importantly," Zevran said, "I found the winning letter!"

Leliana grinned. "I'll get the drinks!"

After drinks were delivered and they'd settled at a table, Barkspawn curled over Clara's feet, Zevran read the letter again, with plenty of flourishes and suggestive looks. The redhead giggled through the entire thing.

When he finished, Clara shook her head. "Not a chance, Zev. Mine's better."

"I don't know." Leliana said. "There is a certain poetry in it."

"What? Why are you on his side?"

She shrugged. "None of the letters I found can compare. I'm not wasting time betting on a horse that can't win."

"Fine." Clara huffed. "Then you're the deciding vote. Pick one."

Delicately tapping her chin, the bard paused, obviously deep in thought.

"You can't be serious, Leli." Clara demanded, leaning over the table. "Mine's better! Just pick mine!"

He chuckled, admiring her fierce frown. So competitive!

Leliana smiled sweetly. "It's only that poetry is best when read aloud. Zevran really made the words come alive, don't you think?"

She fluttered her eyelashes as the Warden's mouth dropped open. Clara had staunchly avoided reading aloud any of the letters they found.

"Yes," he purred, "won't you indulge us, Warden?"

"I--you can't--fine!" She snatched her bag from under the table and rooted through it, muttering under her breath.

She slapped the parchment to the tabletop. " 'Miss Ambrose'." She started, a determined set to her shoulders.

" 'A long, slow grind, the motion careful, aided by generous application of oils. Size is no concern with my equipment, and I am always mindful when stuffing, not risking a--risking--" Clara stuttered, her voice climbing higher with each word. "--a burst before every order is fulfilled.' "

Leliana giggled and he pressed a fist against his mouth.

" 'My meat--" She winced, her pale skin red as a tomato. "--goes hand in hand with satisfaction.' "

He laughed. She fought down a smile and took a deep breath.

" 'Your interest astounds, but I would not question a customer's choice in nighttime reading." She said quickly, her voice strangled. "Three pound sausage again next week? No cheek, of course.' "

She collapsed against the table, arms over her head, shoulders twitching, as Leliana and Zevran howled with laughter. Barkspawn joined in with an actual howl.

"Maker's breath," Leliana sighed. She wiped her eyes. "That was marvelous, my friend. You win."

Clara looked up, hiccupping with laughter, and tried her best to glare. "You're all terrible people."

"What a performance!" Zevran cheered and clapped. "More than worth the five silver."

She rolled her eyes, but accepted their coin without further grumbling.

"And with that, I must be off." Leliana said, standing up. "I promised I would be up early to repair a barn. Zev?"

He sighed. "Yes, I suppose. As long as you buy the drinks again tomorrow."

"Helping the locals now?" Clara asked, refilling her cup.

"I might as well." He shrugged, leaning back in his chair and waving off Leliana. "Idle hands and all that, you know."

She frowned. "Are you tired of patrolling already?"

"Oh, there is no need to pout, my Warden." He said with a wink. "You know I only have eyes for you."

She hid a smile behind her cup of wine. Zevran grinned back, putting his feet up in Leliana's empty chair. They settled into a comfortable silence, simply observing each other.

He and the Warden had been dancing around each other for the past month. They each knew what it was and where it was going--into bed, most likely, though he had no qualms about a tent or wall if that's where the moment led them. But this, the dance, was equally enjoyable. Flirting, teasing, finding out how to make her smile or blush down past the neckline of her robes.

And learning how she flirted back. That's how he knew that arguing and knocking her shoulder against his was practically a wink and a loosened bodice for Clara.

Suddenly, her mouth dropped into a true pout, eyes shifting behind him. He turned to see Alistair move quickly across the room and out the front door with his head down.

He frowned. Something had happened between their stalwart Grey Wardens. For the past week, Alistair and Clara had barely even acknowledged each other. The playful teasing was replaced by awkward silences and short, to-the-point conversations. And occasionally, he caught her staring at him like she did now. Hurt danced across her expression with abandon.

Then she scowled. In one smooth motion, she picked up her cup and drained it.

Zevran blinked. Slowly, he pushed his whiskey over to her.

She drank that just as quickly, though with a lot more coughing after. Barkspawn whined and pushed his head into her lap.

Well. This was worse than he thought.

"Mi estrella." He said, leaning forward with a smirk.

She wiped her mouth with her sleeve. "What?"

"You've drunk far more than your usual fare." He nodded to the empty cups. "Sleep here tonight, in one of the empty rooms upstairs."

"That's...probably a good idea." Clara stood with a groan and tucked her staff under her arm.

"I shall escort you."

"What possible ulterior motive could you have, I wonder?" She mused as they started up the steps.

"Believe me, I am not a subtle man." He said. "When I have a motive, you will know."

They ducked into the room at the top of the stairs. As she shucked off her armor and robes, he wandered the edges of the small room, faking interest in its small baubles and plain furniture.

"If I may pry, my Warden..."

She glanced at him, suddenly tired and thinner than she had any right to be, clad only in a thin sleeveless shirt and trousers.

"You're asking permission? That's new." She noted dryly.

"Hm. I noticed some tension between you and your fellow Grey Warden recently."

Her shoulders tensed. She winced at the movement, hand going to her right shoulder.

He padded over to the bed and sat, gesturing her towards the middle. "Here, sit."

She shifted onto the bed.

He began to knead her broad shoulders. She tensed at first, either at the new intimacy or his cold fingers. Only when she relaxed under his hands did he speak again.

"Did you disagree on how Connor was dealt with?" A feint.

"No."

"On our next journey?" Zevran found knot after knot in her muscles, like a string of pearls underneath her skin. He started to doubt this plan--having this conversation and taking care of her horribly abused muscles demanded his full attention and right now he wasn't sure which was more important.

"No," she sighed, "we both think Orzammar is the best move."

"Then he finally confessed his affections?"

Clara's head snapped around to meet his gaze.

He smiled slightly. Braska, he hadn't meant to say it quite like that. But she was a blunt woman, she might prefer a blunt approach.

"Maker," She twisted away from his hands, "I hoped it wouldn't be obvious."

"It's not your fault. Alistair is rather blatant about his feelings, though." He chuckled. That was a bit of a white lie. They were both obvious about their falling out, but a tiny fib never hurt anyone. "The poor boy has been mooning over you for a few months now."

"I must have done something to lead him on..." She said with a deep frown. "I'm a terrible friend."

He shrugged. "Well, I can't comment on that last bit, not having much experience in the area. Flirting, though, I am quite skilled in. And its all about intention."

When she didn't respond, he placed a hand on her arm, drawing her attention up to him.

"Clara, you can't lead someone on unless you mean to."

She smiled weakly.

"A massage, for example." He continued. "This could be just a friendly massage, but I hope you know enough of my intentions to tell otherwise."

She blushed, but reached up and squeezed the hand on her arm nonetheless. He pushed past the excitement buzzing in his chest. Despite knowing about their mutual interest, the acknowledgement of it thrilled him.

"Good. It's not your fault, or Alistair's, for that matter. It was just... a miscommunication."

"You make it sound so simple." Clara sighed.

"Only because it is." He said. "Give it some time and you'll both be able to look back at it with laughter."

She scrunched her nose. "Maker, you sound like an old man."

"A beauty such as yours, my lady, inspires the wisdom of ages."

She groaned and fell back against the bed dramatically. "Not more poetry!"

"Your storm-grey eyes cut my chest to ribbons," Zevran said, leaning on one hand to smile down at her. She rolled her eyes. "such do I ache for you."

"Your laugh soothes my pain and heals me." His fingers dug into her sides and she squealed as he tickled her.

Loud and unrestrained, the laughter transformed her. Her face, so often grim and lined with worry, turned bright and open. A smile split her face nearly in half.

Zevran admired the sight, his mission tonight accomplished, when she suddenly grabbed his wrists tightly. She shoved him, rolling them over and pinning his wrists above his head.

"Ha!" She crowed, victorious and beautiful, only inches above him. His heart stuttered. "That's--"

He leaned up, closing the space between them, to meet her lips. He felt, more than heard, her gasp. A breathless moment passed before she returned the kiss with a sigh.

She pressed down more firmly into him. Her hands released his and snaked down to cradle his face. Warmth trailed behind her touch, tracing patterns across his cheeks, down his neck.

He tilted his head, slanting his mouth open in invitation as he wrapped his arms around her. She ran her tongue teasingly against his bottom lip. Then, she bit down, slowly, deliberately.

He groaned as she pulled away, opening his eyes to see Clara, flushed and grinning down at him

"Your lips enthrall me." He murmured.

She chucked, brushing a kiss over the corner of his mouth. "You're absolutely terrible."

"I believe that speaks more to your taste in men than my taste in poetry, mi estrella."

"Are you ever going to tell me what that means?"

"I've no plan to."

Clara kissed him again. Her hands were buried in his hair now, grasping and pulling for new angles, as she hummed deep in her throat. And he let himself drown in her warmth, just for a while.

Sometime later, after her hand was underneath his shirt and his was gripping her thigh, Zevran pulled back.

He arched an eyebrow. "This was not the intention in my suggestion, Warden."

"So?" She grinned, her eyes dark and wild.

"So, you were close to collapse only five minutes ago." He brushed his fingers against her lips, following the curve of her smile. "And, if I have my way, this will be quite acrobatic. You'll want to be awake for it."

Truthfully, he was enjoying the chase far too much to jump into bed right now. He'd never had the luxury of time before--the lovers he had taken in the past were either jobs or other Crows. Both were always rushed, fumbling selfishly for whatever pleasure they could take before moving onto the next. This, her, would be the first entirely of his own choice, free from his masters. If he wanted to savor it, he damn well would.

Also, he made a point not to fall into bed with someone distracted by another man. Even if it wasn't 'like that'.

He'd had precious few friends in his life and never any friend as close as Clara and Alistair were. He wouldn't be responsible for the end of their friendship. After they mended their ways, then he could move forward.

Zevran shifted out from under her and brushed a kiss against her cheek. She fell back on the bed and yawned widely.

"Rather proving my point, Warden."

"Fine. It's your loss, really." Clara said, smiling as she closed her eyes and curled around a pillow. "I'm an animal in bed."

"I've no doubt." He muttered, hardly able to contain his own smile as he left.

#dao #da:o #dragon age #dragon age: origins #origins #ZevWarden #Zevran x Warden #Zevran x Amell]#zevran arainai #Zevran x female Amell #Zevran x female Warden #female amell #female warden #Clara Amell #ZevWarden fic #dragon age fanfic #fuck i already posted this under the wrong blog #whatever :(

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expectingtofly · 4 years

Text

SPN Stay At Home Challenge

Week 6: Jealous

Picking up right where Season 15 Episode 13 left off...Dean is forced to spend more time with his alternate universe self and gets a little jealous of how well his douche self and his boyfriend/husband Castiel get along.

Words: ~3k

Rating: Teen And Up

Read on AO3

Thanks to @bend-me-shape-me, @helianthus21, and @pray4jensen for creating this challenge :)

In All The Universes

His and Sam’s alternate universe selves were supposed to be on a plane to Brazil right now. Instead, here they are, standing in the bunker once again. Their car, that disgusting small, green joke of a thing, had broken down on their way to the airport and they had trekked back to the bunker because, as Man-Bun Sam had said when Dean opened the bunker door and immediately started to shut it again, “You’re the only people we know and, besides, our cell phones don’t work in this world.”

“We’ll call them an Uber,” Dean says now, watching his other world preppy self and Man-Bun Sam try to get their phones to work.

“They’ve missed their plane by now,” Castiel argues.

Sam shuts his laptop. “There. I booked them seats on a flight tomorrow morning.”

“Great,” Dean says, “So let’s get them a hotel room and,” he lowers his voice, “get them the fuck out of here.” Even just looking at his other world self creeps him out. It’s him, but not him, some ultra douchey version of himself.

“You guys don’t have to do that,” Preppy Dean speaks up. Dean turns to look at him. “We can stay here for the night.”

“If it’s no bother,” Man-Bun Sam says in that pretentious voice of his.

“We do have extra rooms,” Castiel points out. Dean glares at him.

Sam stands. “Right. Yeah, okay. You guys can stay the night.”

“Really?” Dean says. “You too?” Sam shrugs and tells Other World Sam and Dean he’ll show them what rooms they can stay in.

Castiel goes to follow them and Dean grabs his arm. “Those sons of bitches drove Baby,” he says. “Drove her!”

Castiel sighs. “Dean, I know how much the Impala means to you, but they didn’t know.”

“If they touch her again, I will kill them.”

“Fine, I’ll warn them. Though I’m sure you’ve scared them enough already.”

Dean lets go of Castiel. “Damn right they should be scared.” Castiel rolls his eyes.

***

“You guys sure have a lot of books in here,” Preppy Dean says as he and Man-Bun Sam walk into the library. Dean looks up from his laptop where he’s researching new cases, desperately searching for something, anything, to give him an excuse to leave the bunker. So goddamn nosy, he thinks, watching Preppy Dean poke at the books on the shelves. Man-Bun Sam holds his scarf over his nose and runs his finger over a shelf, frowning at the dust.

“You can read them if you want,” Sam says, sitting down next to Dean. Dean points to his laptop screen. “Man Drowns in Bathtub,” the headline reads. Sam shakes his head.

“You actually read these tomes?” Scarf Sam asks, gingerly pulling one from a shelf. He opens it, letting out a cloud of dust, and sneezes.

“Umm, yes,” Sam says. “To research cases.”

“We have secretaries who do our research for us.” Scarf Sam pulls out a handkerchief and blows his nose loudly.

“You have—?” Sam cuts himself off and shakes his head. Dean points to another news story: "Woman Believes Vacuum Cleaner is Possessed." Sam sighs. "Dean, no."

"Could be something," Dean mutters.

“Ooh, is this a real sword?” Nosy Dean asks, walking up to the long, curved sword on a stand by the bookshelves. Dean fights back a smile. Maybe his nosy-ness is good for one thing.

“It’s very sharp,” Castiel says before Nosy Dean can touch the blade. Dean turns around to see Castiel and Jack standing in the doorway. Don’t tell him! he mouths and Castiel frowns.

“Oh, I see.” Nosy Dean pulls his hand away from the sword and stares at Jack for a long moment. Then he looks away and studies the other artifacts in the room.

Jack sits next to Sam and Dean and Sam smiles at him. They’d had a long crying fest earlier when Jack had been processing the whole “having a soul again” thing. Lots of I-forgive-yous, hugs—Dean’s glad it’s all over and that Jack looks much happier now.

Nosy Dean gestures to Castiel. “Nice trench coat, by the way. Is that the current style, or whatever, in this world? Besides, I’m guessing,” he glances at Sam and Dean, “flannels?”

“Thank you.” Castiel smiles and looks down at his clothes. “But, no, I don’t know—”

“It’s not,” Dean says. “It’s his trademark look.” He stares his other world self down.

“Alright,” Sam says, looking back and forth between them. “So...Sam. Do you two work a lot of cases in your world?”

“Or do you have a troop of hunters who punch in every morning and do the work for you?” Dean asks. He ignores Sam giving him the evil eye.

“We do have quite a few hunters working for us,” Scarf Sam says. “Angels too.”

“The angels help you?” Castiel asks.

“I mean, some of them are dicks,” Preppy Dean says. “No offense, Cas.”

Dean blinks. Cas? Since when did they start using nicknames?

Preppy Dean continues, “But we’ve reached an agreement with the angels. And Sam and I take cases when our father allows us.”

“When Dad allows—wait, he doesn’t force you to go hunting?” Sam asks.

“No, why would he?” Scarf Sam asks.

Jack pipes up. “Sam and Dean’s dad made them hunt monsters when they were kids. They lived in a lot of motels. Do you guys live in motels?”

“What’s a motel?” Scarf Sam asks. Sam stares at him.

“They have a lot of repressed emotions from their childhood,” Castiel says to Preppy Dean. Kill me now, Chuck, kill me, Dean pleads.

“Clearly.” Preppy Dean sits next to Dean and Dean startles. “So do you work for Sam and Dean?” he asks Castiel. Sam laughs and Dean shoots him a look.

“No,” Castiel begins and Dean has suddenly had enough.

He slams his laptop shut—of course all the monsters take a day off when he needs them the most—and stands. “I’m going to make dinner,” he announces to no one in particular and storms off to the kitchen.

***

Dean sets a stack of plates down hard on the island in the kitchen and turns back to the burgers on the grill he had insisted they buy soon after he and Sam moved into the bunker. Apparently the Men of Letters couldn’t bother installing one alongside all the other useless contraptions and junk in this place.

At the sound of footsteps, he turns and sees his douche self walking into the kitchen. Swearing under his breath, he turns back to the grill, then spins back around to look at Douche Dean again. He’d switched out his jacket for...Dean peers closer. One of his flannels?

“What the hell are you wearing?” he demands.

“Castiel said I could borrow your clothes.” Douche Dean fingers the edge of the sleeve at his wrist. “Very comfy. I can see why you wear these.”

There are about a million things Dean wants to say but he can’t figure out a scenario that doesn’t end without Other World Dean and Sam kicked out on the street and his world Sam and Castiel very pissed off at him.

Gripping his spatula, he turns back to the grill and stares down at the browning burgers.

Douche Dean walks over to his side. “I have a question,” he says.

Why am I such an idiot in another universe? Dean thinks. What did I ever do to piss off God? Plenty, he decides.

“So Cas said you and him are dating, or whatever.” Dean rolls his eyes. “In our world, the angels stay up in heaven unless we need their help.” Fascinating, Dean thinks. Please shut up. “Did Castiel rescue you from hell in this world too?”

Dean frowns and looks at him. “You have a Castiel in your world?”

Douche Dean nods, then adds hastily, “He’s not like your Castiel, though. He wears a black overcoat, for one.”

“Sounds like he’s one of the dick angels then.” Dean flips a burger.

“Yeah, well, at times, but he’s one of the good ones.” He falls silent.

Dean glances at Douche Dean. He hadn’t thought to wonder what Castiel would be like in another universe. It seems strange to imagine a scenario where Castiel rescues him from hell and they don’t fall for each other. Another reason why this whole alternate universe mess is all wrong.

Douche Dean shifts. “Hey, I was looking through the records in your room,” he says. Dean tenses. “I didn’t see a single Beethoven—”

“Out.” Dean points his spatula at the door. “Now.”

Nosy Dean hastily leaves the kitchen, bumping into Castiel in the doorway as he flees.

Castiel looks at him, then back at Dean. “Can’t you try to be nice?” he asks, coming to Dean’s side. “Or at least not actively threatening?”

“My clothes? Really?”

“It’s a shirt you never wear. It’s been in the back of your closet for years.”

“Okay, one, creepy that you know that. Two,” he gestures in the direction Nosy Dean bolted, “it’s him, my annoying clone or whatever, wearing it.”

Castiel raises his hands. “Alright, sorry. I should’ve asked.” He steps forward and wraps his arms around Dean, hugging him from behind. “If it makes you feel better, I made Sam share his clothes too,” he says, his voice muffled in Dean’s shirt.

“First Baby, then staying the night, now wearing our clothes,” Dean mutters. “Asking all these damn questions, touching all our stuff. ‘Nice trench coat, Cas’,” he says mockingly, realizing belatedly that he’s mocking his own voice.

Castiel pulls away from him. “Dean.” He looks at him, tilting his head. “Are you jealous?”

“What?” Dean looks at him. “No! Jealous? Of that stuck-up, spoiled son of a bitch?” He tosses a burger onto a plate. “No! Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Alright,” Castiel says slowly. “But Dean—”

“I’m not jealous.” Dean thrusts a plate at him. “Help me carry these. If these assholes eat this shit anyway.”

***

“I don’t like tomatoes,” Jack says, lifting up the top bun of the burger Dean plunks down in front of him.

“I thought everything tasted like molecules to you.” Dean slides two plates over to his and Sam’s other world counterparts. Scarf Sam wrinkles his nose but Flannel-Stealer Dean grabs the plate eagerly.

“Yeah,” Jack says, picking the tomato slice off his burger. “But some molecules taste weird.”

“I think I’ll just have the salad,” Scarf Sam says. He’s lost the scarf and is wearing one of Sam’s shirts, but it only makes his hair look more ridiculous. He pushes his plate back and grabs the bowl full of lettuce Dean has begrudgingly brought over for Sam.

“Well you two are alike,” Dean says, sitting down next to Sam and handing him his plate with the fake, veggie burger hippy nonsense he insists on eating.

“I’m not like that,” Sam protests. He takes the salad bowl as Almost-Sam passes it to him. “I just think we can all stand to eat some vegetables.”

“Salad molecules also taste weird,” Jack says.

“Now that’s true,” Dean says. Sam gives him a look and he rolls his eyes. “But we’re going to eat it anyway because Sam insists.”

“Fine,” Jack sighs, taking the salad bowl from Sam.

“You eat too?” Flannel-Stealer Dean asks Castiel.

Castiel looks down at the plate in front of him. “Not really, but Dean always makes me a serving so he can eat a second portion with the excuse of not wasting food.”

“No,” Dean protests. “I make you food so you don’t feel like a weirdo being the only one without a plate.” Castiel smiles and Dean feels a small satisfaction at amusing him.

The bunker’s lights hum as they eat silently. Dean finishes his burger and Castiel pushes his plate over to him.

“Is there a version of me in your world?” Jack asks Other World Sam and Dean.

They look at each other. “No,” Almost-Sam says slowly. “We killed your counterpart before he was born.”

“You killed him?” Castiel asks, leaning forward.

“Well, he was a threat. He was Lucifer’s child.”

“Does he look like a threat to you?” Castiel asks, pointing at Jack.

Everyone stares at Jack and Jack pauses in licking ketchup off his finger. He stares back at them, seeming uncomfortable. “It’s alright,” he says.

“No, it’s not—” Castiel starts.

“Hey, Cas,” Dean says, putting a hand on his arm. Castiel glances at him and Dean remembers, painfully, how he himself had once been so determined to kill Jack, had nearly done so on multiple occasions. And locking Jack in the Ma’lak box...he’d feared Castiel would never forgive him for doing something so horrible.

“It does appear that Jack is not the threat we thought he would be,” Almost-Sam says. “Maybe we made a mistake killing Lucifer’s son in our world.” He glances at Flannel-Stealer Dean and Dean realizes his body double has been quiet this whole time.

Not-Dean stares down at his plate, then pushes back his chair. He leaves the room without a word.

“What’s his problem?” Dean asks, watching him leave.

“The decision to kill Lucifer’s son wasn’t unanimous,” Almost-Sam says. “Our Castiel was very opposed to it.” He looks at Dean and Castiel. “In our world, Dean and Cas don’t have what you two have. I always thought they might one day, but they’re both very stubborn.”

“Sounds familiar,” Sam mutters. Dean glares at him.

“But killing Lucifer’s son...Castiel can’t forgive Dean for it. Not that Dean’s been apologetic. And now that our world and Cas seem to be gone…” Almost-Sam looks at the doorway through which Not-Dean left. “I think Dean regrets how things ended between him and Cas.” He pushes back his chair. “Umm, if you’ll excuse me.” He leaves after his brother.

Dean stares at the table, feeling like a dick for how he’d treated Not-Dean. Not that he didn’t deserve it, but...it’s bad enough imagining losing Castiel forever, but to lose him like that? Well, he doesn’t have to imagine. He’s lost Castiel plenty of times, thankfully never permanently, and it’s been hell every time. He wouldn’t wish that on anyone, not even his rich, douchey self from another world.

“Well…” Jack says. “That got awkward.”

“Yeah.” Sam shifts in his chair. “Sorry you had to hear that, Jack, about yourself in the other world.”

“I’m alive in this universe though,” Jack says. He smiles at them and Castiel nods.

“Right,” Dean says and tries to smile.

***

Lying in bed that night, Dean can’t shake what Almost-Sam told them. It scares him, how close he’s come to being in Idiot Dean’s shoes. Maybe he’s a lot more like Idiot Dean than he thought.

Castiel lays pressed up against his back, his arm around him. Dean doesn’t think he’s ever told Castiel how much he loves it that he goes “to sleep” with him despite not sleeping at all. He touches Castiel’s hand.

“You know I love you, right?” he asks.

“Of course.” Castiel shifts and Dean rolls over to look in his eyes. “I love you too,” Castiel says.

“Do you ever wonder...I don’t know. I mean with Jack and all. What if I had—”

“Whatever could have happened, didn’t,” Castiel says. “In this universe, we chose each other. That’s all that matters.” He kisses Dean, then snuggles up next to him and Dean smiles. Another thing he loves about Castiel: he says such sappy things so sincerely that it makes Dean want to say them too.

“I would choose you in every universe,” he says.

***

“This will be our first time flying commercial,” Now-Ponytail Sam says, looking at the flight ticket Sam hands him. He tries to look excited. “What an adventure.”

They stand in the drop-off area outside the airport and Dean pulls Ponytail Sam’s suitcase out of the Impala’s trunk. “What the fuck do you have in here?” he asks.

Ponytail Sam starts to say something about taking care of his hair and Dean cuts him off. “Actually, I don’t care.” He shuts the trunk and everyone stares at each other.

“Well, thanks for letting us stay the night,” Now-Wearing-A-Sweater Dean says. He looks at Jack. “It was nice to meet you. You too,” he adds, looking at Castiel. Castiel nods.

“Listen,” Sam says. “We’re going to try to get you your world back. You two belong there.”

“We appreciate that,” Ponytail Sam says. He and Sweater Dean grab their luggage and Castiel, Sam, and Jack get back in the Impala.

Dean hesitates. “Hey, Dean,” he says. His other world self looks back at him. “Cas—my Cas—has put up with a lot of shit from me, forgiven me more times than I can count...Maybe your Cas will too?”

Sweater Dean stares at him for a moment, then nods. He smiles a little and extends his hand. “Thanks, Dean.”

Dean shakes his hand and it doesn’t seem as strange as he would’ve expected.

He gets into the Impala and watches Other World Sam and Dean head to the airport doors.

“I hate flying,” Sweater Dean says, following Ponytail Sam. “Can’t we rent a car?”

“No, hurry up.” Ponytail Sam lugs his suitcase to the revolving doors. “I want to try to upgrade to first class.”

“I really hate that guy,” Sam says, watching them. Dean shakes his head, smiling despite himself.

“For the record, Dean,” Castiel says, leaning forward and crossing his arms on the seatback next to Dean. “There was no reason to be jealous.” Dean looks at him through the rearview mirror. “That Dean has nothing on you.”

“Alright! That’s enough of that,” Sam says. Jack laughs and Castiel smiles at Dean.

Dean smiles back and starts Baby. They pull out of the airport and he glances at Castiel again in the rearview mirror. It’s a nice thought, that he and Castiel are in love in other universes too. He likes to think that’s true in all of them.

Tagging: @spnwaywardone

let me know if you’d like to be tagged in my destiel fics!

#supernatural #spnstayathome #ficlet #fluff #au sam and dean #deancas #i never write short fics #so it was nice to write something silly and sappy #and no angst!#expectingtoflywrites

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