#logically it would be like a bra band hold the whole thing up

[vtimbertiger]

Our favorite succubus incubus cubus

Blah blah blah tiddies awOOga

Also the vtuber mouth is terrifying tbh

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

dire ii, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: The only way that this can be summarized is: "Does your horniness outweigh common sense once again?" And, well, when the female Dire Wolf does that weird pheromone thing, Jeon Jungkook just can’t say no. 

warnings: rated M (18+) for language, world building, eating raw meat; mentions of (species) discrimination and prejudice; violence; smut (fem reader, still too much m-masturbation, thigh fucking, unprotected sex (ty biology), creampie, cockwarming, biting/marking, cowgirl, saliva everywhere lol); non-idol!AU - werewolfAU / soulmates?; werewolf!reader x blond, human!Jungkook; switches between Jungkook’s POV and your POV; is JK a furry? you decide

this is long because smut lmao (but also fluff) yes, I break the fourth wall, it just fit haha inspired by YOASOBI - 怪物 (Kaibutsu)

–

part i

-

"Stop jacking off!"

He heard the vicious snarl the second the window opened but he didn't stop. 

"Hasn't your dick fallen off yet, you animal–"

"It's been a whole fucking month," Jungkook gritted out, throwing his head back into his pillows as he continued stroking himself. "The fuck is wrong with you?"

"With me?" came the disbelieving huff at the foot of his bed. "I'm a busy woman. I'm not like you, masturbating every five seconds," she barked. 

He brought his head back and glared down on her. Completely froze. Even his hand on his cock slowed. 

She was frowning at him at the base of his bed, wearing a torn up black hoodie. It had huge slashes in it across the chest and shoulders, barely holding on. He could see white scars crisscrossed on her skin underneath, a tight black sports bra on her upper torso. She wasn't wearing her usual black face mask. High waisted black pants, with straps on the sides that cinched them in.

"What happened?" He shot up out of the bed, covers a mess, surrounded by too many wadded up tissues.

"Nothing happened," she scowled, looking around him with exasperation. 

"But your clothes–"

"I changed form to get here faster," she said dismissively, grabbing the bottom of the hoodie and yanking it up and over her head. 

"Why is it only your hood–"

"Because I was holding my other clothes but I can’t be fully naked out in public, obviously," she cut him off as if it was the most logical thing in the world. 

"Wait, so you're naked in wolf form?"

"Why the fuck would I be wearing clothes?"

She was crawling on the bed and Jungkook's brain was barely functioning, body jumping involuntarily as she neared. She batted away the dirty tissues, gold-streaked eyes narrowed, a large heavy pendant hanging off her neck – was that diamond? with a platinum plum flower pressed in the center?? how the fuck??? – on a thick silver chain. The chain not only held the pendant, but also her rings. The wolf with the opal eyes. The simple silver band. The skull with the snake. The FEED ring. The large opal gem inlaid in stars. The black stone with a bone pressed into it. And now two more – a twisted silver band and a snake head with black gems for eyes.

"You have more rings," he breathed.

"Yes," she growled. "I said it's been a busy month."

Her fluffy silvery ears stuck straight up, bushy tail swaying. She had a lean, fit body, somehow pure power despite being smaller in physique. She came right up to him, nose to nose, breathing heavily into his face. 

"Look here, Jungkook," she growled. "I understand you're a very horny human, but I have things to do, and you distracting me with your three in the morning jack off sessions is not helping nor is it the way you attract a mate, do you understand?”

He didn’t try to be innocent about it.

"Yeah, but did you think about me though?" Jungkook breathed, letting it mix with hers. 

The gold in her eyes seemed to intensify. 

"Of course, I did," she whispered hotly. "All the fucking time, but I have shit to do, like explain to my father that you're not just a piece of side ass."

"You never gave me the chance to be a piece of side ass." Ugh, she was so close. Fuck, she smelled so good. He couldn't even describe it. "I might have liked it."

She huffed. "You would have. You would have loved it, you horny human, but I don't take sex slaves like the other Dire."

"So, it does exist?" he blurted, eyes widening. 

"It does." She clicked her tongue. "I don't like it though. Those Dires use it as an excuse to mistreat gullible humans."

Silence. 

Just her heavy breathing and staring into each other's eyes. 

"Uh... so what now?" he asked softly. 

"I don't know." She grimaced. "I only came to yell at you."

"Not ask me to be a piece of side ass?"

She let out a hefty puff of air and backed up, but he grabbed her arm, stopping her. 

"Can I be the main piece of ass?"

She raised an eyebrow. "You're weird."

"We've established that," he muttered impatiently. "Come on. Just tell me yes or no. Don't leave me like this."

Her eyes darted around them. "Surrounded by cum-filled tissues?"

His ears burned. "Please."

She paused. Then she let out a resigned sigh, removing her arm from his grip. 

"Jungkook," she said, suddenly serious, rasp with a sharp edge. "I'm the Dire Alpha's child."

Hah?

"What?"

She rolled her eyes. "You know. The big angry black wolf with silver streaks that stalks around in a suit when he appears on television with the President?"

HAH?

"WHAT?" he shouted at the top of his lungs. 

She nodded. "Yes. That's my father."

"You... what?" Jungkook gasped, abruptly grabbing his covers and planting them over his crotch. "Your father?"

"That is, indeed, as some people would say, Daddy."

Jungkook's eyes were swirls. "H-how... what? But you're... you're..."

"Not in wolf form all the time, scaring the shit out of people? No. I'm not. But I could do that, because he's my father and we have similar abilities." 

"I was going to say, hot."

She shrugged. "I hear my father has an online fanclub called 'Bitches for WolfDaddy'."

"... Please don't ever say that again."

She visibly cringed. "Anyway, yes, he is my father. I was hoping you'd get bored of fantasizing about me, but I’ve stayed away from you for whole month and you are still going strong," she said, shaking her head. She sighed again, clicking her tongue. "So, I don't know, maybe reevaluate if you want to bang me now that you know."

He didn’t even hesitate.

"I still want to bang."

She flicked his forehead and Jungkook winced, slapping her hand. 

"That hurts!"

"I told you to think," she hissed. "I'm not just any Dire. I'm going to be the Dire Alpha someday. Not only do you have to deal with prejudice from your own people, but also mine and possibly have to watch your back for the rest of your life, because even if my father respects my choices, he's still going to want to eat you."

He rubbed his forehead. "We can't... casually date?"

"I just told you the stipulations of 'casual' dating. If you want to marry me, then we'll have to figure that out later, with the ritual and stuff."

"You're gonna fight me?"

"Like I said," she remarked, waving a hand. "We have to figure that out later, if you're still interested."

"... Can I just be your piece of side ass?"

"No."

She startled him by growling. 

"No, you cannot. I like you too much for that."

Jungkook's brain stopped functioning. "What?"

She leaned forward, brows ticked cockily, wolf ears at attention. 

"I like you. You smell good and you're weird and your actions are funny and I like your blond hair," she listed, reaching up to pet it. "The color is fake but I still like it."

"H-hey!" But he liked the feeling of her hand patting his head, so he didn't move away. She lowered her hand and grinned toothily, revealing the sharp canines. 

"I like coming here and seeing your face, Jeon Jungkook."

He was having heart palpitations.

"Although I've been seeing a lot of your dick recently and that's nice too."

She barked in laughter at her own joke and he pouted, shoving her and having no effect, because she was immobile despite her smaller frame. He puffed his cheeks until she stopped. She winked at him. 

"What do you think? Does your horniness outweigh common sense once again?"

-

Which do you think Jungkook picked?

Yeah.

Not common sense.

-

“Lick me, please.”

“Where is your patience?” you mumbled against his lips, pressing him into his bed with your weight.

“Gone, because you’re driving me insane,” Jungkook growled, firmly gripping your hips and trying remove your pants, but your body wasn’t lifting. “Let me take your clothes off.”

Your hand came up and pressed his head back, kissing down his neck, ignoring his request. Small nips against his throat, making him moan, eyelids fluttering.

“I could kill you any second,” you muttered, still hesitant to go through with it.

“At least let me cum before you off me,” he gasped.

You laughed hotly into his neck. “You’re a crazy human.”

“And I’m horny as fuck, please, I need you.”

You had asked Jungkook if he wanted to wait, if he wanted to take it slow, because it was a lot to take in, all that information of you being the next-in-line Dire Alpha and the fact that you liked him in a more than platonic way, so perhaps, you know, after confessing to each other and agreeing to give this a try, a simple kiss would be enough?

Jungkook was violently humping the front of your pants.

He had replied with, “Can we please fuck? Please?”

Well, you weren’t opposed to it, but maybe some foreplay? A cuddle or some shit?

Nope.

“Stop it,” you chided, but Jungkook wasn’t listening. “Calm down, I’m not going to disappear.”

You lifted your hips and Jungkook immediately slid down, fumbling with the button and the zipper, trying to yank your pants and underwear down roughly.

You yelped, pressing down on his shoulder. “The tail. Watch the fucking tail.”

“What?”

He blinked, letting go as you grunted, sitting up and turning a little so he could see that your large fluffy tail stuck out of a slit in your pants. You pushed your pants down, moving your tail yourself. Your panties were black, but had a snap in the back that you undid first before you could push them down too.

“Oh… I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” you growled. “Your excitement is getting the best of you.”

Jungkook bit his lip, the mole under his lower lip quivering. “Sorry.” You shifted your tail so it covered you as you removed your panties. He frowned, reaching over. “Hey…” he protested, pausing as his fingertips brushed against the fur. You were about to remove your bra, but stopped.

“Are you petting me?”

He withdrew his hand sharply. “Sorry! Sorry… er… is that rude?” He fiddled with his fingers, obviously itching to touch it again.

You thought about it and shrugged, pulling your sports bra up and over your head. Jungkook’s head immediately jerked upwards to watch your tits bounce out. You shook your ears out as you tossed your bra aside.

“Wow.”

You looked down at him, raising an eyebrow. “What?”

He was looking up at you with awe.

“You’re hot.”

You looked down at his disheveled blond hair, bright chocolatey eyes, tan skin, lean muscle, ink-black tattoos. Innocent, but not. Hesitant, but comfortable in his position under you. There was just something about him. Ah, dating a human was going to be a pain in the ass. You grinned at him and he grinned back, bunny teeth flashing.

Seemed worth it though.

“So are you,” you replied.

He didn’t miss a beat with his cheeky responses.

“You gonna suck my dick or what?”

Your brows raised higher, letting out an amused chuckle. “With these teeth? You sure about that?”

“What are you going to do, bite my dick off? After all your hard work of seducing me?”

You huffed. “That wasn’t hard. All I had to do was lick your face.”

“Speaking of which, please do that again.”

You ticked your head, clicking your tongue. “Damn. Walked into that one.”

Jungkook smirked, placing his hands on your thighs and slowly sliding them up. “Come on…” He pressed his fingers into your skin. “It just makes everything feel so good.” You watched his breathing shallow as he recalled the feeling. “So intense. I don’t know how you do it…” His eyes locked with yours. “I’m pretty sure it’s only you who can do that to me. I want it. Please.”

He wasn’t wrong. It probably was only you.

You leaned down, placing your hands on the sides of his head. Your tail brushed against his nether regions and he gasped, lashes lowering. Oh, how interesting. You swished your tail around, feathering over his hardness. His scent intensified, pre-cum clinging to your silvery fur.

“Mmm, that feels good too…”

You had sex when you were younger, a foolish teenager discovering their sexuality recklessly, but you never had a human partner before. As you grew older, you became weighed down by other responsibilities, too many thoughts to even think about sex. At one point, you wondered if it just wasn’t something that important to you. You didn’t really have initial physical attraction to anyone, so maybe sex was simply lower priority for you than everyone else.

But as Jungkook was under you, as you breathed in his scent and kissed him, long, deep, sensual, you realized perhaps you simply hadn’t found the connection you needed. It wasn’t something you could explain, but there was something. Despite his recklessness and the obvious difference in libido, you wanted to give in to him, on the sole basis that it was Jeon Jungkook and no one else.

You didn’t really understand why, but you weren’t going to question it too much.

Mostly because, at this rate, he was going to cum on your tail.

Your tongue was in his mouth, and he was sucking on it, moaning, small slips of your taste dripping onto his tongue, his hands gripping your ass, rubbing his cock against your fur. You shifted your tail, brushing it up and down his length, and he gasped, breaking the kiss.

“Claim me,” Jungkook breathed. “Please.”

“Technically I have,” you murmured teasingly.

“More,” he whimpered. “Want more. All over me.”

You coated your tongue with your scent, opening your lips a crack to let out a stream of hot breath, wafting over his mouth and nose.

“Mmm, yes, fuck, yeeeeeees…”

“You’re so desperate for it,” your mumbled, barely moving your lips.

“Mhm, it’s the hottest thing I’ve ever felt…” he panted, half-lidded eyes shrouded with lust. “Give it to me, you big tease.”

You chuckled, rumbling your chest. Then you tilted your head, placing your lips on his. It dripped down, straight into his mouth; the saliva saturated with your pheromones.

The reaction was immediate, Jungkook moaning hotly into your mouth, eyes rolling back into his head, gripping your hips tightly as he rammed his hard cock right between your thighs, whole body shaking as it invaded him, taking over his senses. You had intense reactions to your scent before, but never like this, never like it consumed the other and drove them as crazy as it seemed to drive Jungkook. Was it supposed to be like this?

Jungkook’s hips were moving of their own accord, fucking the space in between your thighs. You closed them together and he groaned, dropping from your kiss and arching his back, thrusting fast and hard. You watched with fascination, at his closed eyes and straining neck, open mouth emitting his cries of pleasure as he stroked himself with your legs, pre-cum soaking your skin and adding lubrication.

You dipped your head and licked his neck, coating it with you.

He gripped your hips tighter, a tense gasp of your name plucked from his throat.

“M-More, fuck, I’m so close…”

You licked again, dripping more and more saliva onto his shuddering Adam’s apple and he whimpered, face scrunching up as he clenched his jaw, chasing his climax. You hovered your mouth over him, breathing heavily on his skin.

“Cum for me, Jungkook,” you panted, teeth grazing his skin. “Paint me with your scent.”

He whined sharply and shoved your thighs together around the throbbing head of his cock, shuddering as he shot his orgasm into your skin, the hot, thick liquid squirting out between your thighs and dripping down the back and in between. He moaned, thrusting a few more times, smearing his length with his own cum, adding to the pleasure of the sensitive head being squeezed by your thighs.

“Fuck, that’s so good,” he gasped out, falling back onto his bed, but dragging your lower body with him, cock still pulsating and sandwiched by your legs.

“You’ve made a mess,” you observed.

He cracked one eye open. “You make me messy.”

You raised your eyebrows. “It wasn’t my idea.”

Jungkook grinned. “You encouraged.”

You lifted yourself off him and he instantly complained, but you shut him up by sliding down, running your tongue down the length of his chest. Your legs were a sticky mess, but so was Jungkook’s bed covered in cum-filled tissues, and it was only going to get worse because your saliva was all over his pecs and abs, and Jungkook was spreading it everywhere like a madman, shuddering and gasping. His cock was already hard, smacking you in the tits as you lowered yourself to it.

“Is that what you wanted?” you chuckled.

“Y-Yeah… ah, it just makes me feel so fucking good, I don’t understand why…”

You placed your tongue on his twitching cock and licked it up, sighing in satisfaction as his cum coated your tongue.

“Mm, no, fuck, you’re gonna make me cum…” Jungkook whined, but you held his hips, lapping up his taste.

“I’m only cleaning you off, calm down,” you murmured around his cock. You were sure now, by the second taste, that there must be something special about Jeon Jungkook. His cum was addictive. It gave you a euphoric rush, an insatiable hunger for more as you growled, wrapping your tongue around his length and licking up and down, igniting some carnal instinct inside you. You even swiped your tongue over his balls, gathering everything you could, panting as you finished, getting onto your hands.

Breathing hard, lips peeled back, staring down at him like a goddamn meal.

Your drool plopped down onto his stomach.

Jungkook gasped, catching your expression and eyes widening.

“Er…”

You shook your head, puffing out air. “Sorry. Something came over me there.” What was that? Huh. You weren’t in heat. That only happened twice a year. Your next cycle didn’t start for a while. You pondered, furrowing your brow. Jungkook’s hesitant voice cut through your thoughts.

“Er, I have a question.”

You tilted your head, one of your ears flickering. “Hm?”

“Can you… get pregnant by me?” he asked, chewing his lip.

You blinked at him. “Of course. That’s why most Dire males get vasectomies when they have a bunch of… well, never mind.”

Jungkook blinked at you. “Oh. So, we would have half-wolf babies?”

You made a face. Weren’t you technically the half-wolf? Whatever, just explain the result. “No, our children would all be full Dire, because I am the mother. The species of the child is dependent on the biological mother.”

“Oh.” He rubbed his chin. “We have to use condoms then. Or are you on birth control?”

You gave him a confused look. “Why would I be on birth control? I only go into heat twice a year. Which means I only ovulate twice a year.”

Jungkook looked surprised. “Really? Then what does the full moon do?”

“It connects the Dire to our natural instincts as wolves, thus forcefully turning most Dire into their wolf forms. It awakens our primitive instincts of hunt, fight, mate. It heightens all our senses too. But, since we’re only in heat twice a year, our population numbers will always be lower than you humans, which is why we haven’t out-populated you all yet.” You frowned. “Don’t they teach you this shit in school? They teach us human biology at our schools.”

He shook his head. “No. I never learned about this stuff.”

You rolled your eyes. “Typical humans, only selfishly focusing on themselves.”

“Uh, I’m right here?” he huffed indignantly.

“Do you disagree, full-time masturbator?” you accused.

Jungkook’s ears turned red. “W-well, it was only because you weren’t visiting!”

How sweet, you thought wryly. “Anyway, why are you asking?”

Now his entire face was red.

“Er… wondering if I can go in raw… If you’re cool with it…” he mumbled.

A bird cawed outside, reminding you both the window was still open.

“I beg your pardon?”

“I mean if y-you’re not,” Jungkook sputtered. “I totally understand. I got tested yesterday and I’m clean, because I wanted you to not be worried about it and well, oh, maybe you didn’t want to hear that, er…”

You blinked slowly.

“I haven’t had penetrative sex in, I don’t know, three years?”

“Three years?” Jungkook choked. “What? How?”

“I got tested at my last checkup,” you mentioned absentmindedly.

“You go to the doctor?”

You gave him a puzzled look. “Yes? Don’t you?”

“W-well, yeah, but… don’t you heal kinda fast and stuff?”

You raised your hands, confusion deepening. “And so? Do you think I live in the medieval times or something, rubbing leaves on my ailments?”

Jungkook shrugged. “Maybe?”

You slapped your face, rubbing your forehead. “Humans…”

Then something occurred to you. You raised your head, narrowing your eyes.

“Why would you get tested yesterday?”

Now Jungkook was doing that thing were his eyes shifted everywhere. You were becoming well-acquainted with this habit. “Uh… well… you see…”

You looked around you, at the discarded clothes, the rumpled sheets, the tissues, and then snapped your head back to him.

“You planned this,” you barked roughly.

“I missed you!” Jungkook whined, tackling you and pushing you down onto the bed. “You have no idea what you do to me! It’s not fair!” He shoved his face into your hair and inhaled a large breath, shuddering. “You have some kind of weird spell over me and then you wouldn’t come visit and I just needed you so fucking bad…” He was panting against your temple, pressing his chest to yours, moaning as your skin touched his. Your necklace and rings slid down and hit your throat, descending as he rolled his body into yours.

“It’s not a spell,” you gasped, surprised to find yourself breathless as he ground his hips into you. “It’s pheromones, biology–”

“I really don’t care what it is, you make me a horny ass mess and I’m going crazy over here,” Jungkook panted, lifting his head, blond hair brushing your cheek as his blown-out pupils looked down at you. “We don’t have to full-on fuck right now, but you can’t blame me, I absolutely needed to at least see you.”

His hard dick sharply poked you in the thigh.

You raised your eyebrows.

He swallowed. “You’re doing that thing again.”

“I’m not doing anything.”

“Well, then you’re just straight up attractive, sue me.”

“You would lose because I can pay a better lawyer.”

He clenched his jaw. “Rich people.”

You shrugged. “We all know the justice system is flawed and driven by money like everything else, even though it shouldn’t be.”

“Stop making societal insights and address the fact you make me horny as fuck,” Jungkook grumbled.

You breathed in his face.

Not normal breath, but breath laced your scent. Jungkook shuddered and rammed his hips into your leg.

“Now you’re doing that thing,” he moaned, rubbing his chest against yours, pushing your nipples around with his pecs.

“It amazes me you’re so turned on by it,” you mused, enjoying the feeling of him pressed up against you.

“Fantastic,” he grunted, reaching up and tangling his fingers in your hair. “Write it in your scientific journal.”

You chuckled. “Are you irritated with me?”

“Little bit.”

His fingertips rubbed the fur on your ears, smoothing it. You hummed in approval. It felt nice, like a head scratch. The tip of your tail thumped against the bed. Jungkook murmured your name into your cheek, kissing it lightly.

“Mm, yes?”

“Am I crushing you?”

“No.”

Silence as Jungkook continued petting your ears.

“Can I put my dick in you?”

“Wow, I was enjoying this nice, lovely cuddle time–”

He quickly apologized. “S-sorry. Sorry, I’ll–”

You opened your legs under him and Jungkook’s lower body dropped onto the bed, his cock bumping against your wet heat. He gasped, yanking your ears forcefully and you growled in warning. He quickly let go, placing his hands on the bed, cheeks flushing.

“Sorry, you just…”

You extended your tongue, arching a brow.

He bit his lip, moaning deep in his throat as he pressed his length against your dripping core.

“S-stop… you’re d-doing it on purpose…”

You licked your lips, coating them with you. You watched him struggle to resist the scent, shoulders locking, head hanging, panting hard as his ash blond hair drifted down and grazed your cheeks. Eyes so dark they seemed black.

“I’m aware of the consequences,” you said huskily.

“Fuck,” Jungkook gritted out before he unlocked his shoulders and dove down, roughly pressing his lips into yours and rubbing his cock into your juices. He moaned, sliding his tongue into your mouth as you wrapped your scent all over it. You shifted your hips and the head pressed against your slick slit. You weren’t sure how he was going to handle this after being that turned on by your saliva, but, oh well, that was his problem now.

“Go ahead,” you drawled against his lips, your voice a low rasp.

Jungkook backed up, panting hard, furrowing his brow at you. “What?”

You smirked. “You’ll find out.”

You rubbed your opening against the tip and Jungkook gasped, eyelashes fluttering.

“Ho-o-oly shit.”

-

He was fucked.

Absolutely fucked.

The second even half a centimeter slid in, Jungkook lost it and shoved his cock all the way to the base, the feeling so intense and hot that he momentarily forgot what existence was, because, fuck, it was like the pleasure ate him up and all he could feel was the overwhelming heat and tightness of her pussy, every single ridge and squelch of wetness, throbbing and pulsating around him. It was only when she moaned softly under him that Jungkook remembered that he wasn’t on some existential plane of existence and in the real world.

“Gah… it’s so… intense…” he panted out, eyes rolling back into his head as her muscles clenched around him.

“I’m not sure how you’re going to survive if I’m actually in heat,” she mused. “You’ll probably nut within a second of being in me.”

“Wow… that’s awfully rude… of you to say…”

Jungkook wanted to be chill, but it was impossible, because his hips were already moving, sliding in and out, smacking their hips together, groaning at the sensation of being roughly massaged all over by wet heat, soaked with her scent, already pushed to his limit and he had to bite he inside of his cheek to hold back.

“I should have… used a condom…”

“Not sure that would be much help, you horndog,” she teased.

“Do you even feel anything?” he hissed, roughly smacking his hips into hers. “Or are you going to… spend the entire time… giving me snarky commentary?”

Their eyes locked and he noticed how gold her irises were now, almost flaring with light.

“Need it harder,” she breathed.

The overwhelming passion sank into him with every breath he felt against his skin.

“Harder, please, Jungkook…”

And his body responded, lifting one of her legs and smacking their hips together hard, moaning as he felt her thigh against his skin, the heat closing in on him, fucking her into the mattress so roughly the bedframe shook and he couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe as his orgasm hit him so hard that he keeled over and nearly folded her in half, gasping as he shot into her throbbing heat, cock twitching, but still hard because of this whole scent possession thing so he just kept going, kept thrusting into her, lewd, loud slapping of flesh against flesh, squelching as he fucked his own cum into her.

She grinned at him, mischievous and wolf-like, so many pointed teeth, and he was so damn hard, he didn’t understand how she made him so crazy but, also, he didn’t care because it felt so fucking good. It felt like his entire cock was vibrating his pleasure and fanning out over his balls and ass and back and up his spine and into his head, made more intense by the soft growls of his name from her lips and the smell of his cum mixing with hers. She sucked in a tight breath, body tensing.

“Mm, ah, Jungkook…”

Her pussy tightened, squeezing him rough and hard, and Jungkook whimpered, falling over the edge, pleasure hitting every nerve and igniting them all at once, squeezing his eyes shut and gasping out her name, whole body shivering with lust, his cock jerking and spurting a second load into her all-consuming wet heat, so much that it slid back and coated his own cock. He shuddered and slipped down, losing strength of his arms as her hands quickly planted themselves on his chest, holding him up. Slowly, she shifted her leg down and he moaned, feeling his cock shift inside her and some of his cum squirt out between them, soaking into his sheets.

The scent of sex hovered around them, clinging to their skin.

Jungkook couldn’t move.

Did he die?

Kind of felt like it.

Nothing but heat and pleasure, her pussy wrapped around his cock, pulsing slowly.

She held him up easily, measured, even breaths as she came down, a distinct difference to his absolutely fucked-out state, panting, forehead coated with sweat. He couldn’t say anything. She just calmly lowered him to her chest, wiping his forehead with the back of her hand and exhaling, waiting for his heart to slow and beat in time with hers.

It took several minutes.

To be honest, Jungkook was kind of happy he couldn’t move. His cock, although softening, was having a great time in this wet warmth.

“Uh… this has never happened before…” he mumbled, pressing his cheek against hers so he wouldn’t have to look her in the eye.

She chuckled. “I figured you might need a second.”

“I’ll get better at it.”

“That’s true. You’ll need lots of practice.”

Silence. Comfortable silence. Except for a couple outside squabbling loudly like crows. It was kind of ruining the moment.

“You should have closed the window,” Jungkook scolded, inhaling the scent of her hair.

“My bad. I was a little distracted by you furiously jacking off.”

“… Kind of proud I still had it in me to fuck you.”

He stiffened. Her tongue traced his ear.

“It’s the spell,” she teased.

“You said it’s biology.”

She chuckled, the laugh rumbling her chest.

-

“Why are you always perfectly okay after we fuck?”

You shrugged, nibbling on the piece of cheese you found in Jungkook’s fridge. He was on the floor of the kitchen, panting, hair sweaty and sticking to his face, the floor an absolute mess of fluids after you rode him right here in his own kitchen.

“Guess I’m just built different.”

He gritted his teeth, slamming his fist on the floor.

“It’s hurting my pride.”

This was nice cheese. You chewed, enjoying the flavor.

“I wouldn’t be so depressed about it. Maybe you need to work out.”

Jungkook glared at you. You chuckled and squatted down, flicking your tail against his thighs. He sucked in a breath, moaning softly.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself. It’s only been a few hours since we fell asleep and woke up.”

He clicked his tongue. “I need a shower. Again.”

“That’s your fault, you know. You always want me to lick you all over.”

“Speaking of which, lick me all over in the shower, thanks in advance.”

-

Your father could smell him off you and declared he was going to eat him.

“You will not.”

Your father growled at you. It was quite intimidating and you would have run if he wasn’t your father.

“You. Will. Not.” You repeated yourself with sternness.

Your father had snapped his jaw, grimacing in annoyance. Black lips peeling back, showing all his sharp teeth, gold eyes flashing. He was always in wolf form. He rarely changed.

“I doubt he’s more than a gulp to me. A mere bunny.”

“You can have your opinion, but he’s mine.”

He stomped away, paws heavy on the stone floor.

“You’ll tire of him.”

Honestly, you expected more of a fight. But you hadn’t missed the tick of your father’s head as he sniffed you, the pensive spark in his eyes. Everyone said he wasn’t the same since your mother passed away. You wouldn’t know, but he definitely wasn’t the thoughtful type. You watched him walk away, black and silver tail swishing, claws scraping.

You wondered what your father was like when he was in love.

Did he like holding hands? Did he look at your mother in awe and tell her how beautiful she was?

Did he tell her he loved her?

Your father turned his large head, puffing heavily from his elongated snout. You didn’t say anything. He was a huge black wolf, even bigger than your wolf form. Next to your human form, you were comically small. But down the hall, you were almost the same size, eye level.

His white teeth flashed.

Then he faced forward again and walked away.

Was he going to say something but decided against it?

“I love you, Father.”

You said it softly. He was gone, but maybe he heard anyway.

The Dire Alpha had excellent hearing.

-

“Uh, are you okay?”

You flung yourself through his window, scowling angrily.

“My father made me train for no reason.”

“Train for what?”

“Fighting, obviously.”

You hit the floor of his bedroom with a hard thunk, body aching all over. Still wearing an oversized black hoodie and black jeans four sizes too big. Your father was relentless. You must be going soft if you’re dating a human. Well, you showed him. But not before half-dying from his strikes.

Jungkook hurried over to you, but you scowled, shooing him away. You got on your hands and knees, snarling at the pain, snapping your teeth.

“Do you need an ice pack or something?” he asked, peering at you as you mentally steeled yourself, hoisting your body to your feet.

“No,” was your stubborn response. “I am fine.”

“You look like you’re going to fall over.”

“Sparring with my father does that,” you muttered, cracking your neck. “You want to try?”

“No, not really.”

You finally got a good look at Jungkook. He was wearing a patterned dress shirt with black slacks. Blond hair styled and parted to one side, revealing his strong and handsome features.

“What’s with you?” you asked, confused by his appearance.

He gestured weakly to the bedroom door. “Well… I made dinner… so maybe you want to eat with me?”

Oh. Your cheeks flushed warmly.

“I would love to.”

And then you collapsed, the world going black.

-

Jungkook couldn’t move her.

He was a strong guy, but she was like a giant sack of bricks in this state, crumpled onto his bedroom floor, bushy tail flared out, silvery ears flopped to one side. She was still breathing, but it was pained and shallow. He grabbed one of his pillows and managed to lift her head, shoving it under her. How bad as it? He pushed up the hem of her hoodie and looked.

Oh.

Fuck.

That’s a lot of bruises.

He shoved the hoodie back down and looked back to her face.

Her eyes were cracked open, husky chuckle on her lips.

“I think I’m a little tired…”

Jungkook tugged on her sweater. “Can you move? Just to get onto the bed. I can’t lift you.”

She let out a puff of air. “Floor is fine.”

“No, it’s not. The love of my life does not belong on the floor.”

“Hah.”

Her eyes slipped closed.

“You called me the love of your life.”

Oh.

He did, didn’t he?

Jungkook looked down at the female Dire. Her soft tufted ears and lush silver tail, but otherwise human. Definitely wasn’t though. He knew that from experience.

He couldn’t leave her.

Not even as the dinner got cold and forgotten. He dragged all his bedding onto the floor and created a blanket circle around their bodies, nuzzling himself next to her. He placed his head beside hers and watched her face. She seemed to be in a deep, dep sleep. Jungkook smiled despite her not being able to see and kissed her nose.

Shut his eyes, enjoying their closeness.

Her tail came up and rested on his legs.

-

“So I’m the love of your life, huh?”

“Gah!”

Jungkook snapped his eyes open, jerking back. But he couldn’t go far, because she was on top of him, all her clothes off, on her hands and knees. His eyes widened. She still had bruises, but they seemed to be lighter, purple-green. She tilted her head, fluffy ears flickering. The necklace she wore had the diamond pendant and – he counted – eight rings, the same number as before. Whew.

She scratched her neck and he noticed her nails were painted black again.

“Why are you naked?” Jungkook sputtered.

“Got hot,” she mumbled. “I usually sleep naked.”

Jungkook stared into her eyes. She seemed tired, but not near collapsing like she had been when she entered. The window was closed.

“Can you change?”

“Hm?”

“Into your wolf form. Can you change right now?”

She looked down at him. “Yes, of course.”

“Can I see?”

She blinked.

“You a furry or something?”

“N-no? I just… want to see it…”

She raised an eyebrow and backed up, tail swishing. He sat up, watching her form as she moved to an open space in his room. Sleek, primal, powerful. It didn’t take long. Two, three steps and there was the crack of bone rearranging, a sharp gashing of teeth and the long snout appeared, lips peeled back as she shook her head. He almost missed it, the sudden swish of fur and swiftly it was all over, her frame suddenly huge, daunting, reminding him of that night when she had saved him. Wicked black claws, undeniably dangerous. Muscles flexing as she stepped in a circle, the white crescent fur pattern on her back gleaming against her silvery pelt, hairs tipped with black.

She cracked her neck, staring down at him. The necklace now looked comically small and the ceiling seemed far too low. Her voice seemed to resonate, but still husky and recognizable.

“Is this what you wanted?”

Her eyes were pure gold, glinting in the moonlight through his window.

“You’re beautiful,” Jungkook breathed.

She chuckled, sitting down, tail swishing. “Are you sure you’re not a furry?”

“I don’t know and I don’t really care,” Jungkook muttered, admiring the way the moon seemed to bring out the shine in her fur.

She padded over and encircled him, tail brushing against his chest. Plopped down on the blankets, nudging with her leathery black nose. Jungkook looked up into her golden orbs. She seemed to raise an eyebrow.

“Hm?”

He leaned back against her shoulder, burrowing in the softness.

“Can I… see your teeth?” he asked softly.

She clicked her tongue, chest vibrating. Took him a moment to realize she was containing her laughter.

“You’re a little freaky, Jungkook,” she chuckled and then she opened her mouth, sharp, pointed white teeth glistening, lowering them to him. Next to his shoulder, breathing in heavy puffs. Definitely could rip him apart in an instant.

Not going to lie.

Jungkook was a little turned on.

Her tongue slid out, licking his neck.

Slightly more turned on.

“Satisfied?” she drawled.

“Erm, yes.”

She closed her mouth and laid her head on the blankets.

“Naptime.”

And she nestled around him, letting him sleep against her silvery warmth.

-

You woke him up by licking him.

Softly, on his neck. But not subtly, because you let it drip on his skin, painting him with your scent. He groaned, shifting in your arms, but you held him still, hands on his torso. He was still wearing that nice dress shirt and slacks. His blond hair was a little ruffled from sleep, but you could see the effort. You felt bad for not realizing his intent sooner but, then again, you couldn’t choose your father’s orders.

You weren’t in wolf form anymore. That would be strange if you were.

But somehow, you didn’t think Jungkook would care.

You heard him mumble your name. You placed your lips on his neck and kissed him softly.

“Bite me.”

“Chomp.”

He clicked his tongue. “Be serious.”

“You would be dead if I was serious.”

“You know what I mean,” Jungkook muttered, taking your hands and placing them on the buttons of his dress shirt. “Just a little bit. I’m human, not fragile.”

He was right.

“Ah, sorry,” you whispered.

“Don’t apologize.” His voice was deep, leaning his head back on your shoulder, exposing his neck. “Mark me. Fuck me up. Show me you want me.”

You chuckled, tail swishing slowly.

“Sure.”

He asked for it.

Your lips opened, tongue sliding out, dripping all over his skin. Jungkook moaned under you, hands reaching back and finding your thighs, squeezing them. One button. Two buttons. Teeth pressed against his throat, soaking him with you. Three buttons. You bit down, softly, and sucked, inhaling his scent. He was wearing some kind of cologne. You licked it off, replacing it with you. Jungkook shivered, gasping as your hand slid into his shirt.

“Harder…”

“You’re such trouble, Jungkook,” you mumbled, kissing down his shoulder, nipping at his skin. He whined as you pressed your fingertip to his nipple, rubbing in slow circles. You sank your teeth in, not breaking skin, but definitely hard enough for him to feel it, sucking just as roughly. Fuck. The feeling of him in your canines, the subtle taste of his skin coating your tongue.  You growled in your chest, pinching his nipple and hurriedly undoing the rest of his shirt. Jungkook shuddered under your mouth, moaning as you pushed the fabric aside.

“Mmm, fuck, yes…”

You pulled away, seeing the dark purple mark on his skin, pinpricks of red where your teeth had dug in. He pressed his back into your chest, panting heavily. You leaned forward, parting your lips. Thick, viscous saliva dripped down, plopping onto his pecs, coating him with your scent. You took it and rubbed it against his nipples, and Jungkook instantly reared into your hands, moaning, hands flying down to his slacks and fumbling with the button.

“Fuck, you drive me crazy.”

Your lips pressed against his ear as he fought with his pants, grunting in annoyance as they weren’t coming off fast enough. You traced his earlobe with your tongue and he gasped, leaning into it, raising his hips to remove his slacks as you nipped just under his ear, right at the pulse point.

“You’re a fucking tease,” Jungkook growled.

You licked up and down, so much saliva that it trickled down his neck. He whimpered as your teeth closed in.

“Say something…”

You paused for a moment. Then you reached up and tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling him to one side to expose more of his neck to you.

“Time to show everyone you’re mine,” you snarled.

You gripped his head tightly and bit down, sucking his skin into your mouth. Jungkook’s body bucked into yours, throaty moans vibrating in your lips but you barely noticed, because suddenly you could smell his scent, his hand once again palming himself, spreading his pre-cum over his throbbing cock. The faintest prick and his blood touched your tongue.

Oh.

Fuck.

You drew back, eyelids fluttering, grating groan as you leaned forward and licked it off. Couldn’t help it, you were a damn carnivore and his blood was right there, so you had to remove your teeth, but you were still going to lick it up. Ugh, so good. Jungkook whined out your name and you lowered him to the blankets, crawling down to his hand still stroking his cock.

“C-Can you…?”

“No, I cannot. Move your hand so I can sit on your dick.”

He moved his hand and pouted at you. “But–”

You lifted your head and stared at him in the eye. Jungkook froze, eyes widening. You knew what it looked like. Pure gold, almost glowing. One side of his neck was patterned with purple and red, your bites on his skin. He wouldn’t be able to cover them easily. Your heart was beating fast, too fast. Was it the blood? His smell? His body with your ownership on his skin?

In any case, there was no way you were going to attempt to blow him now.

You opened your mouth, panting hard.

“Jungkook, I want to. Sit. On. Your. Dick.”

He nodded, pulling his hands away. “Yes. Please.”

You lifted your body and sank down on him. Jungkook choked on air, gripping the blankets tightly as you closed your eyes, exhaling deeply as you felt him fill you up. Had it ever felt like this before? You weren’t even close to heat and yet it was still so good, felt so nice with him inside you as you squeezed him with your muscles. Jungkook gasped, shoulders tensing at the sensation.

“Are you trying to end me in seconds?” he hissed, but you ignored him, rocking your hips, holding onto his waist, sliding him in and out of you easily. You breathed in, pressing your fingers into his skin as your rode him and he turned into a moaning puddle under you, working his hardness, focusing more on clenching him inside you rather than smacking your hips together.

“It doesn’t matter,” you breathed. “I’ll make sure you can keep going.”

“Fuck, you’re mean,” Jungkook gritted out.

You opened your eyes, looking down at him. Him and his head pressed back into the blankets, blond hair contrasting the navy fabric, jaw tight, eyes screwed shut as he tried to hold on. He felt your gaze and cracked his eyes open, surveying you through his lashes.

You smiled at him, rolling your hips down his length.

“Don’t–”

You opened your mouth and let it drip onto his abs.

“Fuck!”

His hands smacked into yours and his back arched sharply, muffled wail as he came inside you, hot thick strings painting your insides. It was a sudden, euphoric sensation that seemed to flood you with pleasure from bottom up, massaging his length as his cum squelched with your movements, soaking down your walls and coating his cock, trickling onto his balls. You slid your hands out of his and spread your saliva over his stomach, still warm from his hot skin.

You could tell it was taking over him, the way his hands crawled up your thighs, gripping your hips, opening his dark eyes, pupils blown out, completely intoxicated by lust.

You slid your hands to his sides, planting them on the floor.

“Fuck me back, Jungkook,” you drawled huskily. “Shove your cum into me.”

Hard, rough, fast – you slammed your hips into him and Jungkook groaned, grabbing your ass and raising his hips to meet yours, an obscene squish as his cum was jammed back into your folds. You bit your lip, grinning, all your nerves tingling, ears and tail bristling, chasing your release as you thrust him into you and he smacked his hips back, matching your pace. His eyes found yours. Darkness to gold.

“Shit, you look so hot…”

You tightened around him and he moaned, throwing his head back, the purple-red hickeys on his neck flexing with his muscle.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty with my bites,” you panted, towering over him, the head of his cock jamming into your deepest parts, so perfectly nice and wet and messy, his cum and your juices spilling out onto his legs and balls, soaking the blankets under you as you fucked him relentlessly. “Cum for me, Jungkook. Let’s make a mess.”

Your name tore of out of his throat, and you gasped as he filled you again, all the way to the brim, eyes fluttering closed as your orgasm shadowed his, suffocating and unrelenting, squeezing his stiff length so hard that your cum and his cum splattered down, painting mixed scents on both your crotches. Strong and heady, intoxicating and addictive. You sat all the way down, moaning as you relished in the joined wetness, thick and wonderful, your hands coming up and caressing his heaving torso, his hands falling from your hips and hitting the floor with a thud.

Slow, deep breaths.

You looked down at Jungkook. His eyes were closed and he was breathing shallowly. His blond hair stuck to his sweaty forehead, jaw tense. You patted his chest and he opened one eye, peering at you.

“Should I get up?”

His hands came back up and rested on your thighs. “No. I like this.”

You pulsated around his twitching cock and Jungkook closed his eyes again, sighing in satisfaction, listening to the lewd spurt of more cum dripping out. You lifted one of your hands and placed it on your lips. Then you lowered it and placed your fingers to his lips.

Jungkook’s eyes opened, brown orbs hazy.

You grinned at him, silvery ears flicking upward.

-

Jungkook stared at himself in the mirror.

This t-shirt was not going to cut it.

He went back to his closet and retrieved a scarf.

Nope, this just looked stupid.

He went back to the closet and found a turtleneck. A white and black striped one.

Well. Less stupid. Too hot for it, but that was his own fault.

Jungkook pulled down the collar. He traced the bite mark. He swallowed, feeling the arousal building up inside him once again. Remembered the way she felt around him. The way his whole body seemed drawn to her, the way his cock was soaked with him own cum and hers. She had already left. Had things to do and all that. A slow smile grew on his lips.

He had ten minutes before he actually had to leave for work.

He could annoy her for a little bit.

Jungkook’s tattooed right hand slid down to his jeans, undoing the button.

-

You raised your head.

Frowned.

You father got up from the table and took his plate with him. Hunk of raw meat and all.

“Father?”

The gigantic black wolf paused and glared at you. Blood dripped from his white teeth.

“Daughter, I recognize his scent just as well as you.”

Oh.

Yikes.

You decided not to tell Jungkook that.

Ignorance is bliss.

-

“No.”

“Why not?”

You were sitting on the rooftop of his apartment complex. He had taken you up here to show you the sunset over the city. Fed you a large hunk of raw high-quality meat and three bottles of soju. Became slightly upset when you didn’t get drunk. Too much muscle mass, perhaps.

“I’m not going to fuck you on the full moon, Jungkook,” you chuckled as you nibbled on a piece of cheese. It was such an interesting flavor. Jungkook had said it was some kind of gourmet cheese, but to you it was only a wedge of very tasty dairy.

“It might be nice?” he tried, nudging you.

You chuckled. “It’ll definitely be nice, but you still can’t move after I’m done with you at the moment, so let’s build up some tolerance first.”

“Let’s,” Jungkook pouted. “You just mean me.”

You were sitting on a green plaid blanket Jungkook had spread out for you two. You looked over to him and his dark denim jacket with matching dark jeans. He was wearing a white Beatles t-shirt under it.

“Do you actually like the Beatles or are you just wearing it for aesthetics?”

Jungkook looked down at his shirt. “Of course, I like the Beatles. Who doesn’t like the Beatles?” He snapped his head up, eyes widening. “You know who the Beatles are?”

You rolled your eyes. “I keep telling you I am not from the medieval times; there are just some primitive ideals in my culture, ugh.” You poked his chest and he rubbed it, frowning. You continued, ignoring his frown. “Obviously I know who they are. The Beatles changed music. Recording, songwriting, artistic presentation – they brought music to new heights. They changed music not only as an industry but also the way people felt about music. Think about it. They became an international act when people were only listening to music on the radio. Do you know how insane that is? Everything travels so fast on the Internet nowadays, but the Beatles became popular without the internet. Can you even imagine that in this day and age?”

You turned your head to make your point and Jungkook was staring at you, slack-jawed.

“What?”

He shook his head, smiling. “I like listening to you. I totally agree by the way. Do you like music?” he said excitedly. “I work at a records store. You want to come by sometime?”

You blinked at him.

“Ah… sure. That sounds nice.”

-

part iii

--

masterpost

[lizzy-williams]

𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐦.

★Warnings: SMUT, language, drug references, that good shit

★Theme song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RTOiK8I2QsE

Cigarettes by Amir Obe

masterlist

★A/N: Holy shit my horny ass is too much- 

𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗛𝗔𝗧𝗘𝗗 𝗛𝗜𝗠. God, you hated him. You were but a simple tag along with the band, in charge of pyrotechnic ‘mumbo jumbo’ as he would call it. You were actually a cousin of Rook’s, and some how you got roped into everything. 

The worst part? The person you hated was your boss. Colson fucking Baker. An egotistical hot-head, in your opinion. But you did it for Rook, and Rook alone. He was your favorite family member, and you two were best friends as children, and best friends now. 

It was the night of the release of one of the singles Colson was working on for weeks. And now that it was finally out there, he took the group out to go out and party, including you. 

“Do this for Rook, do this for Rook” you would tell yourself over and over again as your car pulled up to the ‘special club’ Colson invited everyone to. 

But the big red neon sign grabbed your attention as you turned off the ignition and you felt like you were gonna vomit. 

“A strip club??” Rook said from the passenger seat, practically bouncing up and down like a child. 

You gave him a warning look, making him shut his mouth and look away. 

You took a deep breath in. “Do this for Rook, do this for Rook,”

As you walked in, you immediately were taken back by the scent of expensive cologne and cheap alcohol almost slapping you across the face. You saw neon lights everywhere, enough lighting to make anyone have a seizure.

You suddenly felt Rook take your hand, leading you to where he saw the rest of the gang. Everyone was sitting there, looking as tipsy as ever. Of course, you weren’t surprised. 

“Heyyy!” Colson raised his drink to Rook, a look of happiness crossing his face. 

“Hey short-fuse.” he said, unenthusiastically, making you roll your eyes.

You hated when he called you that. You weren’t usually so short with people. Some would say you were one of the sweetest people they’ve met. But with him, it was different. 

You let out a short, “Hi,” before you went to the bar to get a drink. 

You didn’t want to be a bitch to him all the time. In fact, you wanted to be his friend. You liked him. But his cocky attitude was the thing that you hated most, which was ultimately his downfall. 

Hopefully this wasn’t going to be a night that you would regret. 

The night had gone by slowly, Colson oggling at the half-naked girls on the poles. That seemed like the only way to catch his attention. Flash your tits, and your in.

Rook had already gone home with a girl, and you made sure that he was safe. Even though you knew your cousin could handle himself, it never stopped you from worrying. That was your job. You were like an older sister. 

You were now left with the rest of the band. As much as you hated to admit it, you were truly staying behind to make sure that Kells didn’t do anything stupid. 

Lo and behold, you heard the exact thing you were trying to prevent. You didn’t see the whole thing, but from what the rest of the band were yelling, it wasn’t fucking good. You pushed past the group surrounding the scene. 

There he was, straddling a guy and beating the shit out of him, his rings leaving gashes on his face. You bolted towards him, trying to pull him off the poor guy. 

“Kells, what the fuck are you doing?!! Get the fuck off!” You yelled, Baze and Slim doing their best to stop him as well. 

You then were slammed in the face by Colson’s elbow, your form stumbling back, your hand automatically going right where you were hit. 

THAT FUCKER BUSTED YOUR LIP. 

That’s when you about lost it, and by that time, Kells was pulled off the guy, the guys holding him back. You grabbed his ear, and despite the size difference, he was pliant as you pulled him to the front doors, stepping outside. 

“What the FUCK were you thinking?!” you yelled, not caring if anyone heard. 

“That prick kept trying to show me up by tipping one of the girls more. He got verbal, so I got physical.” he acted like it was no big deal and your blood boiled. 

“You could have been arrested.” you snapped back as you watched his eyes drift down to your lip. 

“Did that guy do that to you?” he asked, furious, pointing in the direction of the guy through the glass doors, “I’ll fucking kill him.” 

He gripped the handle to the door until you stopped him, “No. You did this.” you responded.

His face dropped, his eyes going soft, his hands reaching up and cupping your face. You pushed his hands away.

“You have a problem.”

“Oh, I have a problem.” he scoffed.

“You act on impulse, not logic, and that is a problem.” you retorted. 

He turned to the doors of the club, until you stopped him once again, making his gaze snap to yours. 

“No. No way in hell, I’m taking you home.”

“Why?” he asked, annoyed. 

“Because your drunk and I doubt the manager wants you in there anymore. Now get in my car.”

As much as he wanted you to be wrong, you were actually right. And he really, really, didn’t want to deal with law enforcement. 

“Fine.” he sighed out, walking over to your car and getting in the passenger side. 

Me: 1. Colson: 0

As you drove, you let out a sigh in defeat. You did over react. Even if you did have a split lip. 

“I’m sorry for snapping at you. I just... don’t want you to get in trouble. I care about you, and I know it might not always seem like it, but I do.” your words tumbled out of your mouth as you saw him look at you with an unreadable expression. 

“Thanks.” he mumbled. 

You gave Kells a few sympathetic looks as he looked out the window of your car, not bothering to say anything else. You couldn’t help but have a twinge of guilt. 

As your car pulled up to Colson’s house, you two awkwardly shuffled inside, Colson quiet. The silence was becoming overbearing. You walked to the kitchen, wetting a paper towel and placing it on your lip at an attempt of cleaning it. 

Colson just stood there, leaning up against the counter, and you could feel his gaze burning in the back of your neck. You turned around and saw him looking at you. 

“Come on, let’s get you to bed.” you motioned, walking up the stairs as Colson begrudgingly followed. 

As you entered his room, you looked around. Christ, it was a mess. Bottles and clothes scattered about. 

“Jeez, at least get a maid,” you smiled at him, trying to be playful. 

Colson’s eyebrows furrowed, “Are you always going to criticize every single thing I do?” 

You looked for his usual twinkle in his eyes when he would say something playful towards you, but his glare was stone cold. 

“Well, I was trying to be nice!” you snapped back. 

“Yeah, for once!” 

“Bite me.” you growled. 

“I just might.” 

He suddenly grabbed you, making you let out a yell of anger. 

“Let me go, jackass!” you squirmed in his grip, but he wasn’t letting up. 

He held you until you calmed down, his body pressed up completely against yours. In a weird way, you felt better. You then realized the position you were in. You took note of his arms... and his hands. You had fantasize about those hands for as long as you could remember. 

You were able to turn around in his grip, and you were now face to face with him. You don’t know why you made your next action, but you did. You hugged him. 

And to your surprise, he hugged you back. Even though his impulsive acts made you angry at times, and he was a bad influence on your cousin in your opinion, you knew that someway, somehow, you had an attraction to the blond boy. 

You pulled away, “I gotta go home.”

“You don’t have to,” he muttered, his pupils blown wide with... lust?

“Colson,” you mumbled in a defeated tone. 

“Don’t go,” you heard him mutter, his lips almost touching yours. 

You were pissed off. He had all this time to make a move, and he’s deciding to do it now!? 

Fuck it.

You kissed him angrily, your hand gripping his shirt tightly as your lips danced with his, making him groan into your mouth. 

You had never acted like this. He was the only person that could make you act out like this. And you fucking loved it. As your senses were over-taken by want and lust, you swiftly unbuttoned his shirt, panting as he detached his lips and slipped your shirt over your head, you jeans some how magically unbuttoned and pulled down. 

You slipped out of everything, leaving the both of you in your underwear. All of his tattoos were on display, and normally you would look at them and admire them, maybe even counting them, but you were too wrapped up in your own scorching need to notice. 

You pulled on his arm, dragging him to the bed and shoving him down on the bed harshly. He wasn’t the only one angry, leaning up and grabbing your throat, reconnecting your lips for another ravenous kiss. 

You took his boxers off, discarding them behind you as you took off your own bra and underwear, pushing him back down, straddling him. Your pussy rubbed up against his hard shaft, making his groan at the contact. 

He suddenly flipped you both over, kissing you again, biting your bottom lip as he pulled off. 

He didn’t even bother to put a condom on. You knew you both wanted it fast, hard, and raw. He suddenly slipped in, making you let out a loud moan as he grunted in pleasure, relying on your slick to act as a lube. 

Soon he stared to angrily pound into you, both of you loving the sounds of the skin contact, Colson leaning down and kissing your neck harshly, sucking, licking, and biting as you heard him whisper deviously degrading words into your ear. 

“You like that huh? Do you know how long I’ve been wanting to take this tight pussy and make it mine?”

All you could do is let out noises of pleasure as he continued on, trust faster and harder with every time your core clenched around him. 

“Fuck-- I-I’m gonna... c-cum,” was all you could let out.

“Go on, babygirl, cum for me. Cum for me and know that I’m the only one who can make you feel this good,” he bit your earlobe.

“FUCK!!” you cried out, your core clenching around him as you felt yourself slip into your nirvana, your pussy gushing as you felt your mind go fuzzy. 

Your climax pushed your lover into his own, curses and repeats of your name spilling from his mouth like a prayer. 

As you both calmed down, he laid beside you as you caught your breath. 

“So. You think you like me just a little bit?” Colson asked snidely.

“Shut up, jackass.”

((This isn’t my best writing. Kinda hate it. Might delete it.))

[highsviolets]

It’s one of those rare weekend afternoons in which your schedules align and you are savoring every minute; taking in the view from your spot on Javier’s couch.

Draped along the leather, you rest your chin on your hands and watch the scene in front of you: the hot hiss of the iron, the soothing, low stroke of it against the cotton of Javi’s dress shirts; the man himself, standing shirtless, wearing only jeans; a cigarette dangling from his lips as his face is a frown of concentration. Your gaze lingering on the tight bunch of his broad shoulders as it moves the iron back and forth, his long, lean arms as he stretches across the board, the cinch of his belly as he twists with the movement.

“See anything you like?”, he teases, bringing you out of your dazed stare.

“Always”, you reply with a smile and he winks at you, leaning to blow one last puff of smoke up at the ceiling while stamping out his cigarette.

You watch him for a while longer and when he finishes the shirt he is working on, he holds it up to inspect his handiwork, sharply snapping it in the air before reaching for a hanger.

The snapping though. Why is that so arousing? Was it the sharp sound? The frown on his face as he did it? His broad shoulders flexing with the effort of it? The way his body moved with the whole motion of it?

Your eyes still on his body, you focus now on the waist band of his jeans; the soft trail of hair that leads into them, the dip just to the side of his hipbone, the way the top button is undone.

Getting off the couch, you walk over to his neatly hung rack of shirts and making sure you are facing him, you peel off your tank top and toss it onto the floor, along with your bra. He stops ironing; watching.

You smirk, fingering through the fabrics until you find his favorite shirt; a soft teal one and you pull it off the hanger, shrugging it on. Your frame engulfed in it, he only has eyes for the strip of skin that shows straight down the middle; your throat, your chest, your belly. Watching you slowly button it, he finally speaks.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

You shrug, feigning nonchalance. “I just wanted to check out the fit. You know, as someone who deals with clothing all day.”

He hums in response, setting the iron down and turning it off. Walking towards you, he stops your hands with his; much larger against your own and you look at him, waiting.

“I think”, he murmurs, his voice going straight to your core, “as someone in the costume business, you might actually want to check out the construction of the seams.”

“Is that so”, you reply, your mouth gone slightly dry with how close he is standing next to you; the warm heat of his body so close.

“To do that, I think it would be better if we took this off.” His eyes on yours, you feel his knuckles brush against your sternum as he starts undoing the buttons. He undoes one, then another, then stops and you aren’t sure what is going on when he brings your hands up and presses them over the next button.

“I’ll tell you what”, he says, walking back over to the couch and sitting down, his hips shifting forward so he can recline. “Why don’t you continue and I’ll watch.”

The picture of ease in front of you, you wouldn’t even tell he was aroused save for the bulge in his tight pants, the length of it pressed against his thigh and you want the upper hand back, so you follow him to the couch and climb onto his lap; the shirt gaping away from your chest as you settle into your straddle across his thighs.

Only two buttons holding the fabric together, you follow his gaze and look down at your body, your whole chest on display and you smile, looking back up at him.

“Look, Javi”, you tease. “I’m you.”

“Is that so, sweetheart?” he murmurs, lips barely moving. His dark eyes are still trained on your bare skin, eagerly devouring the sight.

“Mmmhmm.” Your hand trails up his chest, splaying across his collarbone. Raising your hand to your mouth in a fist, you mimic clearing your throat, speaking in a deep voice. “Agent Javier Peña, DEA,” you say, tongue fumbling slightly as your lips curl in a smile around the unfamiliar words. “See?” You tuck a strand of hair behind his ear with your spare hand. “Just like you.”

Javi’s expression matches your own, adding in a slight eyebrow raise that heightens the pit of desire settling in your core. “Almost perfect,” he compliments.

“Almost?” you pout. Looking down at him, hitching your breath as he skims up the sides of your torso with his broad hands under the teal fabric, you think you catch a glimpse of devilry cross his face.

“Almost,” he confirms, sliding one hand over to cup your breast. “You see, baby,” Javi continues to explain, watching your features furrow in an effort to remain focused, “if you were me, you wouldn’t be wearing a shirt at all.” Sure he’s entrapped you in your own logic, he smirks as he squeezes your breast.

Taking a deep breath, you glide your hands down his arms, pushing on his muscled forearms to force his hands off of your body. It’s a sure thing, your hands steady despite the mounting chaos in your brain, the fuzziness that always threatens to overtake you when you’re with him — be it his eyes, or his hands, or the patch of skin on chest that’s always visible when he takes off his tie, tossing it on the table as soon as he walks in. (To be fair, you’ve only seen him do it once. But it was such quick thing that instinct told you it was a habitual act, like the way he irons his shirts in smooth, undisturbed strokes).

“Javi,” you reply stiffly, precisely, arching an eyebrow, “is that any way to speak to a government official?” Your tongue hits the roof of your mouth as you tsk, tearing your gaze away from his parted mouth.

It’s raining again, warm pellets of the stuff dappling against the window in muted thunks. A few drops dribble down the glass in perplexing hindrances, crossing over and around each other. Something about the pattern makes you ache, sparking a deep need for you to let this man know how safe you feel with him in his apartment on a Sunday afternoon, half naked on his couch, watching him iron as rain slants across the city.

“What is it, querida?” Javi sits up slightly, and you shift on lap as his long fingers trail down your arm in an attempt to soothe you. “What’s wrong? Are you alright?” Urgency laces his voice like poison does a drink, delicately slipping from one word into the next in mounting need. The shadow of his jawline catches your eye as he follows your gaze out the window. “Is there…” he squints. “Is there something out there?”

Higher up now that he’s moved, you card your fingers through the rest of his hair now, admiring its silken texture. It reminds you of some of the fabric in which you dress clients, the kind used by the highest fashion houses to create pieces of wearable art. Perhaps he is your own art, something you both view and create, adding dashes of interpretation to his twisting complexities. He is a technē and a fine art, both a craft and something higher all at once. Aristotle was right about mimesis: the artist in you mingles among the logician in him.

You’re on the cusp of saying so when your eyes gravitate to his chocolate pools, concern etched into every feature. “No, baby,” you whisper instead with a smile, eyes never leaving his, cradling his head in your hands. “Just very happy here with you, is all.”

Blessed deliverance washes across his features, the gesture matching that of rain just beyond the wall. In its place he inserts a wicked grin, one that makes his eyes crinkle and your toes curl. “Could you be better?”

Nimble fingers fly to the remaining buttons on his teal shirt. “Hm, I don’t know,” you muse as the shirt falls open, exposing the rest of your skin at last. “Show me what you’ve got, Javier Peña. How happy can you make me?”

Javi tags: @frannyzooey @catsnkooks @littlevodika @justrunamok @anakin-danvers @goldafterglow @goldenkenobi @teaofpeach @cri-me-a-river  @yespolkadotkitty @rentskenobi @a-seeker-of-imagination @leias-left-hair-bun @nelba // taglist // what i listened to  // facetime javi series masterlist

[wlw-lovestruck-fiction]

May i request hc or fic of liora, zhora, and vivienne finding out that their girlfriend had been psychologically/emotionally abused by her parents; making her use the safe word because of how triggering it was for her? For Xenia, make it MC’s foster parents psychologically/emotionally abused her while she was moved from house to house? Pretty Please?

Warnings for: Near Drowning Panic Attacks Autistic Overload Reference to ABA therapy Emotionally abusive parents Reference of physical abuse SPOILERS Swearing

Written by: @evoedbd *****

The sound of water rushed in her ears. That dulled, sloshing of limbs weakly paddling. Underwater always felt so far away from the world, each source its own little ecosystem waiting for someone entitled enough to come by and befoul it. Bubbles, little pockets of air rushing to escape the vast nothingness, the inevitable trap before they burst at the surface. Until they ceased to exist to contribute to a larger whole. There was something morbidly poetic about water and bubbles, something that enchanted even the youngest of minds. Water and bubbles, no matter the age of the being observing them, held an allure. Zoe remembered when bubbles and pools were a thing of joy when the bath was the highlight of her day. That time when her mom would spend time with her, and later, where she could be alone to think. The journey into adulthood had seen bath bubbles fade into basic soaps, then baths into quick showers. Strange, that her life would lead her back to pools. Back to the inevitable. Perhaps time was nothing more than an air bubble, and she was merely meant to add to the whole.

Zoe let her body float, unable to do anything but watch the bubbles from her escaping breath. That was wrong. She knew she was meant to rise now, meant to use her arms to take a stroke enough to lift her face from the water. To take a breath… but she couldn’t. Her body was locked, floating face down, about to begin sinking if she couldn’t do something. Puff her stomach, rollover, flap for help. Something. ANYTHING. She couldn’t. She was helpless to do anything but think. Teenage years all over again. That same drugged out feeling, that cloud on her mind, that helplessness with her own body and opinions. An air bubble at the bottom of an ocean doomed no matter what.

She had to wonder, if a bubble could feel, would it be as melancholy as she was thinking? Surrendering to the water was so effortless. Letting herself sink, she was able to finally look up, to see how far she had fallen beneath the surface. Or was it how far she’d come? When everything had started, she was merely this naive little girl babbling about all the attractive people she bumped into, trying to just stay in line and keep her head down, then trying to protect what she loved so that everything would be normal again. She’d been so safe in normal, content with the lies she’d been fed for a scrap of approval. Now? She could see how brainwashed she’d been, how accepting of things as normal instead of wrong. How she’d enabled these things by holding her tongue. It had only taken a storm of nature to sweep her off her feet, to grab her in the typhoon, for her to truly see what had been in front of her all along.

It was so beautiful, looking up, especially once the bubbles had all burst. A clean screen but a blurred view of white blue bands dancing across the industrial concrete ceiling. No shape was the same, yet all were stripes, rippling between straight and curved with the gentle artificial waves. Light and reflections, smoke and mirrors, but so serene that Zoe could almost just let herself drift away. But her body had other ideas. She tried to breathe, only to inhale a lungful of water. The beauty faded. It was no longer serene, but stinging and agonizing. It was a lungful of chemical and death, foul-tasting and burning all the way down her throat. It was bitter defeat, with a side question of how many people had peed in this pool? Was she really about to let herself drown in a pool full of other people’s piss?

Before she could even answer that, it was white. It was a storm of bubbles, a stampede of white crashing so loudly in her ears that she almost screamed. Why was it so loud? What was the muffled screaming? The chaos? It was her teenage years all over again. Her life. Was this what a life flashing before one’s eyes truly meant? Not all the sexy times, not a movie of achievements and desires, but a mottled sensation of one’s worst times?  Why would anybody romanticize this crap? Before she could truly contemplate it, there was an answer. A tight arm around her midsection, pulling just that little bit too tightly, squeezing and intimidating, dragging her through the water, out of the water. Finally, she could take a breath.

It was useless. Everything was too cold, stinging against confused nerves. But her back was hot, cushioned, but the cushioning was all rough and wet which made it cold. It defied logic. What else could she do but gasp for that useless air to make her lungs work? She needed air to struggle, to defy this illogical clash of sensation and right the galaxy. Then it was moving, it was vanishing, replaced by a smooth heat, save particular points of contact. A silkier wetness, somehow, and more heat than even the warmed water. A nicer sensation. At that, Zoe turned, trying to worm her way into the comfort even as she tried to think of everything she wanted to say. To process what had happened.

“Zoe?” The mass behind her spoke, tone… why couldn’t Zoe identify the tone? It was right on the tip of her tongue, within reach of her grasping mind, but it was just… blank? Was that even the right word? She knew the word, she knew lots of words, words that had people scratching their heads, but right now. Right now, not a single word was within her reach. She couldn’t access her files, couldn’t make herself process the world. It was too much, too loud. The assistant droids were clanking, the kitchen pots and pans beating her over the head, making it throb… only, nothing was touching her. Wyst was yelling for help, or was it her father yelling at her to get help? They sounded nothing alike, but… she was scared, terrified. Was a zombie coming back from the grave or was she the zombie? Well, with all the cells constantly dying in people, everyone was always a little dead inside but that was totally irrelevant. Why did she think that? She shouldn’t think that… should she? Could she even say that? If she tried to explain what was happening, would the words even make sense? She wanted to scream, to shout, needed to get the noise off of her chest before it drove her deaf, but what noise should she even make? If she was to be silenced, what solitary cry would save her? What would bring her world back into balance?

“Dolphin…” The whisper escaped. A single word. A code. Something she remembered even in the depths of her pain. When her mind was flooded, the word remained. An old-world mammal, which swum the oceans. Logic defying and yet completely logical. Beautiful. Unique. Her favourite. An image of safety for a young child, turned a word for an adult. A single word which said more than an entire sentence could. A word she wouldn’t ever be punished for uttering. She knew that in her bones. Zhora had told her.

“Dolphin.” Louder this time. Zhora had let her pick one word, for when she was so overwhelmed that she needed everything to stop. Just like now. Zhora would make it happen. Zhora would make the world stand still if Zoe merely requested it. If a way did not exist, Zhora would invent one. Zhora was safety just as she was the typhoon. How a force of nature was the safest thing in Zoe’s life made no sense, especially Zhora, but despite defying what Zoe had always recognized as logic, the results spoke for themselves. Beaten, bruised, wounded, Zhora would always win. She’d crawl across molten lava and shards of glass, bleeding out whilst being shot at if it would see Zoe safe. Zhora had been the storm to wake Zoe to corruption, just as she was the saving grace when Zoe had begun to fall. Zhora sparked rage but quelled it too. She was a criminal with a heart of gold. She was the constant. Zhora was… Zhora.

“Zoe?” that tone again. Zoe couldn’t even think what it was, but it was. She knew exactly how it made her feel. That warm, gooey feeling in her chest, as if her heart were a melting chocolate pudding. As if the warmth of a good hot chocolate was blooming in every muscle, in every bone, without the unpleasantness of having to slide down into her gut first. Instant gratification, instant security. Enough to lure Zoe out of her hiding place. To lift her head.

“Dolphin,” Zoe repeated, this time crystal clear. The word escaped clean, even as Zoe was finally able to blink enough to see through the blur. Green. A unique shade of green that washed away the awareness that anything else existed. Captivating, gentle and sweet without appearing weak. Zhora’s eyes, concerned, relieved and understanding. Zhora understood! She knew. She could now bring everything to a halt, hit the restart, or perhaps shoot the knees out of any racer who didn’t respect the pause button.

“Cover your ears, cutie.” The captain warned; that same goo inducing tone laced with an edge that left no room for question. Zoe obeyed, or rather, she was pretty sure she did. What were ears again? She knew the answer but damned if she could comprehend.

“STOP! Everyone, clear out. Wyst, get them out of here.”

There was no way anybody would second guess Zhora. No way anyone would do anything but obey. The muffled stampede of obeying bots and humans alike barely reached Zoe’s ears, not when Zhora’s warm arms settled around her, pulling her into a firm embrace. Safety. Zoe wasn’t sure how long she lingered in that embrace, appreciating the heat against her, the way the world was still save for the rhythmic rise and fall of silky wetness… no, Zhora’s wet bra. Bra and skin. The rise and fall of her chest… weapons and jacket abandoned. That was enough to have Zoe’s cheeks heat, definitely embarrassment mixed with something else. If Zhora had just jumped in though, that would mean that… a quick glance down and a shuffle of one leg confirmed both of Zoe’s suspicions. The Captain was still wearing those form-fitting pants, which were now soaking wet and clinging enough to outline defined muscles. All at once, Zoe realized how small she was, cradled to her half-naked captain, staring at the pale skin on display.

“Enjoying the view, cutie?” Zhora’s teasing tone was accompanied by a ripple of tension through her defined core. Then the piercing, emerald and sapphire across silks. Two moons in the skies above the rolling hills. Glorious, fluidly rolling hills. Strong hills that could flip credit chits. That felt so… oh stars. The gleam of her belly button piercing was enough to have Zoe’s poor ears near steaming. It was bad enough to be so overwhelmed, but this was an entirely different direction Zhora was yanking her in the land of overstimulated. If she looked away, there was so much happening, nothing which appealed as much as the view Zhora offered. Yet, staring was also so much.  Inappropriate, thirsty behavior… in a swimming pool, no less. Oh hubble, that’d read so badly on her tombstone. Here lies Zoe Leonis – Loving Inventor of ADA, AI- died of thirst in aquatic physical therapy.

“Yes?” she squeaked, earning a low chuckle in response. Oh… that definitely had her aware of her toes again, they practically curled at the low timbre of such a sound. And her ears, they were probably on fire by now. Still, she wasn’t about to lie. Especially since her response earned another round of selective flexing. It was enough to have Zoe’s mind wandering elsewhere, until her weakness due to the long term side effects of the antidote in her system came swinging back to the forefront of her mind. Seriously, fuck Zenith’s poison. Fuck Scorpion and her “misleading implications” over the lack of side effects. Right now, Zoe was prepared to create the most cusswords she had ever created in her life to cuss out the bitches and their poisons.

“Want to tell me what that was about?” Zhora requested, bringing her hand to Zoe’s face. Cautiously, she tucked hair back behind Zoe’s ear, careful to keep every move telegraphed. The care behind each gesture was more than Zoe’d ever experienced before, especially from those close to her. Why wasn’t Zhora angry? This was the type of thing people could get angry about, but Zhora was so relaxed. So tender…

“I have autism spectrum disorder, commonly known as ASD,” Zoe answered quickly, barely taking a breath. This was the moment it’d all go to hell.  Where Zhora would realize what a wreck she was.

“I know, cutie. I saw your medication withdrawal.” Zhora’s answer left Zoe reeling. She… knew? Why didn’t she say something? Why didn’t she ask about it? Why was she taking this so calmly? It was as if Zoe had just read her a shopping list, not divulged a diagnosis which had haunted her childhood.

“Wha-? How? Why didn’t you say something?”She demanded quickly. These were the types of things that people asked when a big secret wasn’t a secret, right?

“Zoe, your symptoms over your mom. Increased aggression, lowered impulse control? I knew, but I wasn’t about to come at you about it. You’d just left your family and we were all you had left. I wasn’t about to make the ship unsafe for you to satisfy my curiosity. I also know you; how could I not notice the little things you do differently?” Zhora explained, stilling her hands around Zoe’s jaw. Supporting her head, never forcing the eye contact they held. It was effortless to keep eye contact with Zhora. Her eyes were so pretty, the emotions there were always so pure, so kind. Even in her fury, those eyes never held the hatred Zoe had witnessed in even her own flesh and blood. Zhora never forced eye contact, she lured Zoe in. Zhora never shied from eye contact. She could hold it without increasing the tension, without that awkwardness creeping in… she was also nice to look at. Definitely, her looks made it easier.  

“I never knew you felt that way,” Zoe admitted weakly, offering a twitch of her lips. An awkward flicker of a smile. What expression should she make in this situation? Oh shucks, she was probably making all sorts of weird expressions trying to settle on one. If so, Zhora never laughed. She simply smiled, eyes twinkling in that endlessly fond manner.

“If you need to talk, I’m here, cutie.” Zhora’s voice was so gentle, her eyes so understanding. How could Zoe do anything but talk? But spill her guts and trust Zhora wouldn’t tangle them up? There was a terrible realization in her eyes, a terrifying understanding. Of course, Zhora knew. She’d seen the moment Zoe’s relationships had crumbled. She’d been there when Zoe’s aunt had tried to shoot her, had been the one offering comfort and covering fire. Had been the one to talk her through all the family lies, to gently open her eyes. Zhora had been the one watching Zoe slowly crumble, the one holding her together, encouraging her to talk to her family. Zhora had been in the next room over when Zoe’s mother had all but disowned her. She deserved to finally hear the semi-tragic backstory.

“We tried to cure it when I was young, you know.” Zoe began, barely taking a breath before plunging into the explanation.

“We did all the treatment with the specialists, I mean, my parents were medical geniuses. Me not being… well, I was delayed. I didn’t talk for years. Then I wouldn’t shut up.”

“You do ramble a lot, Cutie. It’s adorable.” Zhora commented, smiling as she gave Zoe a playful squeeze. In return, Zoe merely stuck her tongue out, eyes twinkling. Zhora, without missing a beat, simply nipped in Zoe’s direction, would have caught her tongue if Zoe hadn’t sucked it back into her mouth. Instead, a playful bump of noses left them both grinning like fools. It was effortless, to take a moment of playful reprieve before diving back into the darkness of the topic at hand.

“Everyone thought it was weird. The other kids didn’t like me much back then. I knew too much, spoke too much like an adult and couldn’t play like a normal kid. These doctors would make me play all these games I didn’t really want to play, then take things away from me if I didn’t do what they wanted, how they wanted. I never bothered too much cause they’re just things, right? I like things but things are things, not people. Then, if I did things wrong, my parents would ignore me until I got it right. They were trying to help me learn but I didn’t process learning without this. I had to use big girl words when I was struggling to get help, couldn’t be all weird or I wouldn’t get acknowledged. Sometimes, it took me a long time to get the words right.”

“That’s why you keep talking until you feel you’ve said the right thing,” Zhora noted softly, her brows lowering over her eyes in concern. There was more there, something hardening, a storm brewing.  

“I had to get it right. Like, if I wanted the food, I had to read the label and ask correctly. If I didn’t pronounce it right or asked wrong, I didn’t get it or even acknowledged until I did. I had to play with toys a certain way. If I played wrong, they got taken off me. That’s why I liked science so much. There was no wrong. It was all an experiment, and me doing things differently was appreciated.”

“They wouldn’t give you what you needed unless you were perfect? Fucking hell, cutie…” Zhora’s lowered tone became a growl, irritation flooding her… yet that kindness in her eyes remained. That protectiveness that somehow Zoe could always translate. It wasn’t anger at her, but for her. It was a safe anger. One she could cuddle up to and forget she’d ever been in danger.

“Dad always got angry and yelled. Started ignoring me no matter what. Mom was with me more. But, it all got to be too much. I kind of snapped. I took a lot of medication and went for a bath. Passed out, hoping to drown myself. My parents found me, screamed at me, called me selfish and…” Zoe trailed off, taking a deep breath as her thumb ran across her fingers, across the cuts surrounding her ring. At that, Zhora froze, eyes homing in on the little damages. Injuries always explained as engineering accidents. A mechanic’s hands. Gently, as if she might break Zoe beneath her grasp, Zhora lifted the hand.

“These aren’t from an accident, are they?”

All Zoe could do was shake her head. No. They most certainly weren’t. The pressure built in her throat, forcing her to gasp for breath. She was drowning again, ready to succumb before Zhora leant closer, pressing her lips to Zoe’s forehead as if it might still the rising flood. It did. Somehow, such a gentle gesture allowed Zoe to take a breath, comforted.

“Oh, Zoe, fuck… I’m so, so sorry.” The Weapon smuggler whispered; her tone laced with the tears pouring from her eyes as she pressed her lips to the scars.   It was beautiful, to see the storm in her eyes, to see her rage burning even as she touched with such sweetness. To see the kindness amplified into wrath, yet never disconnected.  

“My parents said I should look at it. So, if I ever got married, I’d see it and remember how selfish I was for trying to end my life. Dad left after that, and things seemed to get better. Mom realized how fucked up it was and apologized for it. I thought… I don’t even know, Zhora. It just came back to me when I fell, and I couldn’t even move. It just bombarded me, how small and helpless I felt. And the poisoning weakening me, just… thanks for jumping in after me.”

“If I meet your parents, Zoe, I’m going to fucking shoot them. I am so glad you’re out of that family.” Zhora whispered, once more pulling Zoe into a tight embrace. The Captain closed her eyes, quietly tucking Zoe under her chin. Those closed eyes couldn’t conceal the reckoning brewing within Zhora.

“Think Leonis fits me better?” Zoe couldn’t help but tease, taking the out such a joke offered. This conversation was too much, too heavy, but a weight gone too. Feeling someone had heard her, feeling someone validating her own ire and outrage towards the past with their own. Perhaps that was all she truly needed. After all, she couldn’t run from the past, couldn’t wipe away the emotional and physical scars. Time still turned the pages of the books it burned, after all. But, maybe, with her chosen family at her side, Zoe could write faster than the flames. Maybe, with Zhora, the story could have the happily ever after she’d always dreamed of.

It had always been Zhora. For each and every time Zoe’s family had let her down in her adult life, Zhora had been there, gently and silently picking up the pieces. Helping Zoe reconstruct herself the way SHE wanted to be. Not the way others had moulded her to be. Even without knowing how, Zhora had seen the tampering others had done, just as she’d seen the woman Zoe could become. It’d always been Zhora. Why Zoe had felt the ending could have been any different was suddenly laughable. Even jagged, a mess of open wounds and scars blended into dangerous coping mechanisms, Zhora had refused to be another letdown. Another betrayal. Rather than ever demand Zoe change, the Captain had sat back, had worked on her own issues to be better for the woman Zoe was moulding herself into. Zhora hadn’t just abandoned Zoe, or merely offered a place to be. Zhora had grown with her, quietly changing to become a better foundation for the little engineer. Opening her own wounds so that Zoe was not alone. Opening her heart to no longer be a lone wolf, all to ensure Zoe had a pack should the worst happen. At least, Zoe was somewhat convinced that’s what Zhora told herself. Zhora hadn’t looked at the broken girl as less worthy, or her challenges less valid. She’d taken them on board, had grown into herself to ensure Zoe could grow into herself. Two separate trees shaped around each other. Both could stand alone, but together their unusual shapes finally made sense. Finally had harmony.

“Zoe Leonis… sounds better than Zhora Rayner.” Zhora’s gentle purr lured Zoe back into the land of the living, had her turning in the smuggler’s lap, winding her own arms around Zhora’s neck, a hand running over the shaved side of her head. In turn, Zhora’s hands crept below the water, landing on the familiar curve of Zoe’s rump in a manner Zoe had come to associate with sweet. How someone grabbing her butt could be sweet was another one of life’s illogical logics. It was this way because it was Zhora. It was that simple, to Zoe, at least. Zhora could defy a lifetime of logic, yet still be the clearest thing in Zoe’s existence. That was just Zhora. Her air at the end of a bubbles journey. Her inevitable.

“Yeah…” Zoe couldn’t help but agree, lips peeling into an utterly smitten smile as she leaned closer, pausing a moment before pressing her lips to her happily ever after.

“It does.”

[be-dazzled]

88 and Gruvia if you're still doing the prompts pls

88. “Don’t panic but I think we might have accidentally gotten married…”Rating: M for sensitive language and content

Juvia woke up utterly confused. She didn’t understand her body. The headache was so severe she thought she got hit by Thor’s hammer. Maybe, she did get hit by Thor’s magical hammer. She had no memory of what happened the night before. If Juvia tried to remember, her head felt like an egg about to crack open. With the pain she was suffering, Juvia preferred that too and wished that her head would just split into two.

Oh, the throbbing was killing her.

Her mouth tasted weird too. It was as if she boiled some dirty socks unwashed for almost a month of use and sipped the dirty sock soup. Juvia forced her eyes to open. Apparently, she could still do that at least. A low groan forced itself out of her mouth when she tried – and failed – to prop her elbows and help herself up. Juvia expelled a frustrated breath and decided it would be better if she turned to her side instead. But that caused somewhere else to throb.

Weird.

The heavy drapes were drawn across what she remembered to be a floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the iconic Caesars Palace fountains. Good, she was still in her suite. Juvia hoped she didn’t do anything weird or funny last night.

Fragments of last night flashed before her eyes. She saw a picture of a strange woman dancing atop a pool table waving some replica of Thor’s hammer. Looking closely into the memory, Juvia realized the stranger looked exactly like her, except that the dancing woman’s clothes were kind of disheveled. The resemblance was uncanny. Maybe, because the wild woman dancing atop one of the pool tables was her – Juvia Lockser.

Hands flew to cover her mouth. It definitely was her! And suddenly she remembered taking her top off too, in front of so many people. Did she sign up as a stripper or something? Juvia prayed it was just her brain toying with her to teach her a lesson.

This isn’t you, Juvia Lockser.

She could hear a voice at the back of her mind reprimanding her.

You are not some kind of a lose woman.

And now she was talking to her own brain but she, the brain, was right. Juvia was a far cry from that shameless woman waving her lace bra like a flag. She got her shit together, stripper Juvia obviously did not. But between the two of them, stripper Juvia seemed happier – real Juvia wasn’t.

The taste of acid began in the pit of her stomach. The harsh reality was reminding her why she decided to fly off to Las Vegas and leave everything and everyone behind.

Bora. That son of a bitch.

But she wasn’t going to think about that jerk. She was in Las freaking Vegas and she seemed to have enjoyed herself last night. It was the only explanation why it felt like her body was thrown around the room. Another head-cracking throb hit her head. She decided to sleep it off. Thinking and remembering wouldn’t do her any good. If she didn’t force herself, Juvia knew she was going to remember the entirety of the night. She just wasn’t sure if she wanted to face that reality. So, Juvia lied back to bed, only to sit right back up when she felt some movement beside her.

The horror of the possibility rounded her blue eyes. She slowly turned to her side where she felt the continuous stirring. Juvia shuddered the moment it registered to her what – or who – made the stirring: a man. A warm flesh of a man was sleeping beside Juvia and he had his bare back on her.

Juvia became suddenly aware of that other part of her body where the throbbing was coming from. Somewhere down south. Juvia expelled a scandalized shriek.

“Hey, can you quiet down a little?”

The mystery man turned to her and Juvia didn’t care how good-looking he was. She didn’t care how chiseled his features were. That light stubble under his chin. That jaw that every male model would die for. That red swollen lips that was just begging to be worshiped. And that black bed hair. Oh god.

And she didn’t absolutely care that the white sheet fell down his lower abdomen, exposing some tanned skin and that good ol’ happy trail. She shook her head to get rid of the tempting thoughts. There was a more urgent issue on hand.

Like…

“Who the hell are you?!”

With her tone, it sounded more like a sentence rather than a question.

One corner of the stranger’s beautiful, beautiful mouth pulled up in a smug.

“Hey, don’t tell me you already forgot.” The stranger leaned closer, invading her space more than what she would allow a stranger. His dark blue eyes bored through her – teasing and taunting, filled with heat that was turning the pain in her core into something else. Something tingly. “You kept screaming it the whole night.” Then he continued, mimicking how she ‘screamed’ his name. “Ooh, Gray. Mm. That’s it Gray. Yes, Gray, there. Don’t stop, Gray. Oh G–”

Before this ‘Gray’ could get to that part which Juvia now vividly remembered, the mortified bluenette let out another ear-splitting scream. Not the kind of screaming the stranger was talking about. This wasn’t music to the ears.

“For such a small woman, you have a lot of that going on, don’t you?”

The glint in his eyes told Juvia that Gray was the kind of man whom no one ever said no to, who always got his way: proud and confident. Those kind of men scared Juvia. She slowly moved away, wanting to put safe distance between her and the stranger. Juvia was so occupied at wanting to get away from the raven-haired stranger that she didn’t notice that she was already backing away at the very edge of the bed.

“Hey!”

For a man with an ugly hangover, Gray’s reflexes were like that of an athlete. He pulled Juvia at the very last minute before the woman fell off the bed.

Juvia wasn’t sure if she should be thankful because apparently she was bare naked under those sheets and so was Gray. And she found her very naked breasts slapped against his hard chest. The heat that she was fighting exploded at the contact.

So, she did the most logical thing to do and pushed poor Gray stumbling off the bed.

“Aw!” he cried. A shock of black hair popped out of the edge of the mattress. “Woman! You are very violent.” Gray nursed the back of his head that earlier made contact on the carpeted floor. But the wince was quickly replaced by a lopsided smile. “I like it.”

“Get out!”

Juvia jumped off the bed, ignoring her body screaming pain, and backed away from the stranger as far as possible. She only stopped when the back of her thighs hit the bedside table. She tightened her hold on the white sheet wrapped around her body.

“Hey, you’re the one who invited me up here.”

Juvia grabbed the lamp and threatened Gray with it.

“Geez, you react like this now. Wait ‘til you remember every detail.” he said, raising one teasing brow.

There seemed to be a very dark and exhilarating story behind his grin. But that wasn’t the most exciting part of Gray because when he stood to his full height, Juvia’s eyes drifted down that part she shouldn’t be looking at, that part that made her heart tremble. Juvia immediately tore her scandalized eyes away from that part, but not without a second glance.

He was still hard.

She threw the pillow at him which he easily caught. Next was the lamp, which Gray luckily dodged. Then, everything that Juvia’s free hand could grab.

Gray stepped back, shouting at the crazy woman who was throwing things at him. He raised his hand to try to stop the woman and talk some sense into her. Until, a slim light hit the gold band around one of his fingers.

“Woman, wait!”

Juvia was trying to haul the bedside table, giving him some time to tell her off.

“Don’t panic… but I think we might have accidentally gotten married.”

Gray raised and showed his ring finger wrapped with the gold band. Suddenly, Juvia felt something cold on her finger. She checked her hand, praying to the gods of Las Vegas and that Elvis impersonator she saw in her memory that Gray was wrong.

He wasn’t.

The band on her ring finger was very and awfully identical with Gray’s.

“I. WILL. KILL. YOU.”

You know that thing that people say explains how a thin, scrawny person could carry a refrigerator double his size during a fire? Gray could only guess but those people were right. It was the only explanation as to why there was a shattered furniture next to him which came from the slender woman at the opposite end of the room.

Gray was realizing it only now but his new wife was a very violent person. He should tell his assistant to get him some life insurance.

…

Writer’s Corner: I’m stuck with #SIYC so I’ll try finishing requests here on tumblr. Man, the draft for this has been sitting on my desk for a very loooong time. But since we guys have some time in our hands for now, we’ll try to get things done. I hope I get around this writer’s block and continue with our favorite Bunhead and Hoopster.

AND I do smell some new modern AU fanfic coming on. 

[sapphirestarxx]

Through the Night

Chapter 11

Also posted on AO3

This chapter is very NSFW. Smut!!

Tag Wall: @lavendertwilight89 @hnnwnchstr @cstormsinukagblog @fawn-eyed-girl @ruddcatha @superpixie42 @liz8080 @ravisk

Let me know if you would like to be added to the tags for future updates!

~☆~ 

Miroku and Sango entered their own hotel room, both of them amused at the way Inuyasha had been so opposed to rooming with Kagome. Sango wished her best friend luck in convincing the half demon to be more physical with her. Of course, she herself was having difficulty letting more happen with Miroku, although her reluctance stemmed from a totally different reason. And compared to Inuyasha’s reason hers was almost laughable. But insecurities weren’t always rational, and she appreciated Miroku’s patience with her.

“What are you thinking about?” Miroku’s voice broke her out of her thoughts and she looked at where he sat on one of the beds. She dropped her own bag and walked over, settling herself beside him. Funny how she used to want nothing to do with him and now she craved being near him so much.

“Silently wishing Kagome luck with Inuyasha.” She replied, leaning into him and he obligingly wrapped an arm around her and laughed at her words.

“You and me both, my dear Sango.”

"This is going to sound like a silly question, but do you even know my last name?"

"Ishimura." Miroku replied without hesitation.

"But I never even told you." She said as she glanced at him, a little surprised.

"You didn't have to. I was very interested in you, after all, and so I made it a point to know your full name, as well as anything else I could find out."

"Meanwhile I wanted to not like you and tried to ignore everything about you. I obviously didn't do a very good job at that."

"No, much to my personal delight." Miroku chuckled a little bit.

"You're annoyingly persistent."

"But you love me."

"I do." She agreed with a soft smile, resting her head on his shoulder.

They lapsed into a comfortable silence while Sango replayed the conversation they had had with Kaede in her mind. A thought occurred to her and she spoke before she lost her nerve.

“Miroku? Can I ask you what may be a personal question?”

“Of course. What is it?”

“When we were talking with Lady Kaede and she mentioned your father, you acted calm but you got really tense. Did I miss something?”

Miroku sighed but smiled. “It seems you’ve grown to know me quite well. And you didn’t miss anything. I’ve told you before my father died when I was child but I never told you how. After our encounter with Ayaka and her mirrors, it's fresh in my mind again. That’s all.”

Sango waited for him to continue but he didn’t and she twisted to face him. While his face appeared unconcerned he had a strange look in his eyes, almost like guilt or regret. 

“Miroku. What happened?” She asked, taking one of his hands in hers reflexively to comfort him. When he was quiet for another minute she added, “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. I...I'm not always very good with words, but anything you feel, good or bad, you can put it on me. I want you to know that.”

He met her eyes at those words and gave a genuine smile, before leaning in to give her a quick kiss. When they broke apart he spoke.

“I appreciate your concern, Sango. And how can I refuse after such heartfelt words?”

Sango gave his hand a squeeze and waited.

“When I was ten, and growing in my own powers, going through my own training, there was a powerful evil spirit that attacked our temple. Being sure of myself and my skills, I was sure I could help. My father refused, of course. I was just a kid, after all, and had only begun my training a couple years prior; I still had eight years to go to complete it. I was told to stay behind in a room with particularly strong wards against evil and to let the adults handle it.

“Thinking I knew better, I left the safety of the room and tried to hunt it down myself. My ten-year-old self thought if I could do this I would prove myself and not be treated like such a kid, and make my father proud.” Miroku expelled a breath, almost like he was scoffing at his younger self. “Unknown to me, this evil spirit was able to hide its evil aura, making it hard to locate or sense when it was nearby. I was overtaken by it and it possessed me. It was also able to read the minds of those it took control of, and it used this to get close to my father.

“I was awake for all of it, but I was unable to control my own body. And so when my father scolded me for leaving the room and then hugged me in relief that I was okay, the evil spirit drove a knife between his ribs, nicking his heart. My Uncle Mushin had rounded the corner just as it happened and between him and my father they exorcised the evil spirit from me and purified it. But the damage was already done. My father bled out before any help could arrive while I stood there in shock, his blood all over my hands. And that’s how he died. 

"While logically I know I didn’t kill him, I still feel responsible. Part of me still wonders if my father blamed me. If I had only listened...but we can’t go back and undo the past.”

Sango stared at him wide-eyed and slightly horrified then let go of his hand. He sucked in a breath, a small part of him fearing her rejection, as ridiculous as that now was, but then she raised herself onto her knees and leaned forward, wrapping him tightly in her arms, her head resting on top of his. He couldn’t breathe for a second, and wasn’t sure whether that was because of how she had accepted this part of him, how hard she was holding him to her, or the fact that his face was buried in her breasts. After a moment, she released him and pulled away.

“God, Miroku. That’s terrible. I’m so sorry. But you were a kid, and all kids do stupid things. I know your father didn’t blame you for it. He knew it wasn’t really you.”

“And how do you know?” Miroku asked, raising a hand to stroke her cheek. She was so perfect.

“Because I had something similar happen to me. Only I was the one attacked.” Sango answered. “It was when I was sixteen and accompanying my younger brother, Kohaku, on his first mission. He had turned eleven and my father decided it was time for him to be out in the field. We were hunting a demon that placed the people around it under its control, only we didn’t know that until it was too late. 

“Kohaku attacked me with his kusarigama, the blade of the sickle ripping deep into my back. Thankfully, my father and aunt were there, and they exterminated the demon, but I almost died. Kohaku felt horrible about the whole thing and blamed himself, but I never blamed him. He was young, it was his first mission, and it wasn’t really him attacking me. I understood. And because of that, I believe your father understood, too, Miroku.”

For some reason her words helped to alleviate the pressure in his heart and Miroku smiled at her softly. She was right, of course.

“I’m sorry you and your brother went through that.” Miroku told her. “And for some reason, I think I truly believe that now. Thank you for sharing that with me.”

“You shared first. I felt like it was only fair.” Sango pointed out. “And I thought maybe hearing it from the perspective of the person attacked would possibly help.”

“It did. Thank you.” 

Miroku kissed her and she buried a hand in his hair, losing herself to him. Every time he touched her she wanted him so much. When they broke apart she gathered her courage and spoke again.

“Actually, that mission I told you about, that’s...well, it left a horrible scar on my back. It’s huge and ugly and I’ve been scared for you to see it--terrified to see your reaction. That was part of what I saw in the mirror with Ayaka, but even though I know it’s irrational, part of me still fears it’s true. That you’ll be disgusted, that you’ll turn away…” Sango confessed, her cheeks pinking in embarrassment.

“I’ve told you before, and I’ll tell you again, Sango. No scar could ever make me want you less. Whatever it looks like, it doesn’t matter. It’s a mark of your survival, something I am extremely grateful for.” Miroku replied.

Sango could hear the sincerity in his voice. She took a deep breath and then, before she could lose her nerve, asked him, “Do you want to see it? The scar?”

Miroku wondered if this was some kind of test. He had to tread carefully or he feared he would scare her away. She was clearly deeply insecure about it, which he felt was ridiculous; she was the most beautiful woman he had ever had the pleasure of laying eyes on, scars or no scars. From her body to her spirit, she captivated him. The fact she had offered to let him see was a sign of her trust in him and he would not betray that.

“I would be honored.” He answered.

Sango got up from the bed, walking a few steps away and removed her sweater, dropping it to the floor. At first Miroku saw nothing but a glimpse as her long dark brown hair fell to cover her back again, hiding it from view. Then she moved her hair to the side and over her shoulder, baring her back and her scar to him. Only the band of her pink bra bisecting her back obscured his view of the mark.

He silently sucked in a breath, but not because he found her ugly. It spanned most of her back, radiating out from her spine in almost a starburst shape. The scar tissue was a mix of pink and pale white, alternating between unnaturally smooth and the appearance of bumps and wrinkles where it melded with the unblemished parts of the skin of her back. The pain she must have suffered to possess such a scar…it had to have been unbearable.

He stood up from the bed and walked up behind her and raised a hand to lightly touch the outside of the scar with a finger. She flinched, tensing, and he stopped immediately.

“May I?” He asked, seeking her permission. After a moment she nodded her assent and relaxed. Carefully, he inspected her scar, running his fingers gently over the whole of it. Now he understood why she had refused to turn her back to him to hide her nakedness in the aftermath of being saved from that evil water spirit; but she needn't have worried. He still found her beautiful.

Sango scarcely dared to breathe as Miroku examined her scar, his fingertips trailing over the whole of it and making her suppress a shiver at his touch. She chanced a glance to the side at the dresser mirror, to try to see his face in the reflection, and what she saw made her heart clench. It was…intent, almost fascination, as if he was trying to memorize every line and raised edge. 

Miroku finally finished his perusal of what she had so bravely decided to share with him, and wrapped his arms around her middle, pulling her close to him. 

“You’re beautiful, Sango. Scars and all.” He told her and pressed a kiss to her shoulder. She leaned back into his touch, saying nothing, and they stayed that way for a few minutes before she pulled away, turning to face him.

Despite the seriousness of the moment, Miroku was a simple man. The woman he loved and desired was standing before him with no top on and he couldn’t help but notice or take it in. The satiny pink bra she was wearing cradled her full, perfect breasts, showcasing them in a very pleasing manner, and he took his time to appreciate the flawless way they were displayed. He could see the faint red line of the stab wound on the right side of her chest, right above her breast, that would no doubt form its own scar. 

His gaze dipped lower and took in her flat and toned stomach, noticing a scar trailing from her left side to just under her breasts, no more than a faint white line. He barely resisted the urge to trace the line with his finger and raised his eyes back up to her face, meeting her gaze. He could tell by the look in her eyes she knew he had been taking advantage of her partially unclothed state to thoroughly check her out and also that she didn’t mind, possibly welcomed it. He desperately wanted to kiss her, but felt that was dangerous given the fact she had no shirt, only a bra on. And he badly wanted to see that bra on the floor next to where her sweater lay.

“Now would be a perfect time to kiss you.” He told her.

“Then why don’t you?”

Fuck it. He cradled her face with his hands and took her lips with his own, the kiss starting out as slow and lingering, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself from escalating it into something more heated, more passionate. Sango kissed him back, just as urgent, and clutched at him as if she was almost as frantic for him as he was for her. Finally, Miroku pulled away, his breathing harsh, heart racing in his chest.

“Sango, we need to stop. If we don’t stop now, you’re not going to be wearing that bra for much longer.” He told her honestly, his gaze heated. He had expected an instant denial from her, as she typically did in moments like this, and that was fine with him; he would wait for as long as she needed. But instead she paused, searching his eyes, as if considering it and he held his breath in anticipation of her answer.

Sango didn’t think there would be a better time for this to happen then right now, in this moment. It felt right. She was tired of telling him no when all she wanted was to say yes. She licked her lips a little nervously, finding her voice.

“That’s okay. I-I want this, Miroku.” She said breathlessly, her heart pounding.

“Are you sure?” Miroku asked, needing to know this was what she really wanted. He thought he might die if she said no.

“Yes. I’m sure.” Sango replied and she pulled him back down to kiss her again. 

A thought occurred to Miroku and he broke apart from her.

“Wait. Protection. Let me get a cond--”

“That’s not necessary.” Sango interrupted, knowing what his concerns were. Miroku gave her a bemused look and let out a laugh.

“Sango, my dear, while I would love for you to bear my children, this is perhaps a little too soon.” He joked, indigo eyes twinkling, and she rolled her own, giving his chest a small push.

“I’m on birth control; I have an IUD. It’s fine.”

“Really? You?” Miroku couldn’t hide the surprise from his voice.

“I-it’s not for sex, well I mean yes, it’s also to prevent any pregnancies in the event I ever did have sex, but that’s not the reason I got it. It’s something all female demon slayers get when they’re old enough. When we get our periods our scent obviously changes, what with all the blood and everything. Demons pick up on the scent of blood mixed with the hormones and it’s like a beacon to them. That makes it harder to sneak up on an enemy and creates difficulties in masking your presence. In the old days we obviously had to use other methods to try to disguise it from demons but now in the modern world this is easier and more efficient.” Sango explained.

“Hmm, I see. Very interesting.” Miroku murmured at her answer but his eyes were on her chest again and he lifted his hands to reach behind her and unclasp her bra. She backed away and smiled.

“Not so fast. I’m not going to be the only one standing here half-naked.”

“Are you telling me to undress?” Miroku asked, his voice low. A smirk played on his lips.

“I am.”

“As you wish.”

He removed his shirt in one fluid motion and, even though Sango had seen his bare chest plenty of times already over the past week, she still took a moment to appreciate it, drinking him in with her eyes. His arms and chest were corded with muscle, perfectly toned, and her gaze slipped to his well defined abs. She closed the distance between them and did what she had been dying to do since her first sight of his gorgeous body, running her hands up and down the expanse of his torso. He breathed in a short gasp at her touch and watched her as she explored him.

His hands undid the button and zipper to his jeans, pushing them down slightly, and he let them sit low on his hips in favor of putting his hands to better use. Such as sliding them down her back to cup her ass, taking his time in feeling her up. She let out a sound between a gasp and a moan; he felt his cock twitch in response. He was already hard for her.

“You know, I’ve been dying to do this since the moment I first saw you bent over in that cafe a month ago.” He confessed as he continued to stroke and knead her between his hands.

“Wh-what? You mean when you said you were appreciating the view, you really meant-- Ahh!” Her question cut off in a small cry as Miroku pulled her close, pressing himself against her and letting her feel the hard length of him. He moved his hips the smallest bit and she gasped, her hands moving from his chest to clutch at his shoulders.

“Yes. I was definitely lying and definitely talking about your ass, not your face. Although your face is perfect, too. Every part of you is.” Miroku told her, speaking into her ear, and she shivered at the sensation of his warm breath on her skin as he slowly and deliberately ground himself into her again

This time she couldn’t hold back a moan or her own body’s reaction, which was to hook a leg around one of his and move against him to ease the pressure that had started to build. She was already so wet it was embarrassing, but she didn’t much care at the moment.

Miroku rubbed himself against her once more, pressing harder, and earned another moan from her while letting out a groan himself. Fuck, they had only just begun and he was already on fire with need for her. 

He captured her lips with his once more and released his hold on her ass, sliding his hands up her back, finally undoing the clasp to her bra. Breaking away, he slid the straps off her shoulders and she let go of him to remove it, allowing it to fall and exposing her bare breasts to his eyes. She resisted the urge to cover herself and let him look his fill, blushing and feeling slightly shy in spite of everything they had done moments before. He looked at her as if wondering if she was real, hungrily devouring the sight of her. Her body felt heated from where his gaze had passed over.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” Miroku said, reaching for her again and he took hold of one of her breasts, gently squeezing and massaging the mound, causing Sango to let out a sigh of pleasure. He flicked the pink nipple with his thumb and she gasped. Continuing his ministrations, he moved his lips to her neck where he alternately pressed kisses, nipped at her, and gently sucked. She let out a small moan, running her hands up and down his back. That moan turned into a loud cry when he moved his mouth from her neck to her breast, taking her nipple into his mouth and sucking while tracing circles around the sensitive bud with his tongue.

It was time to move this to the bed, Miroku decided. With the arm curled around her, he caressed her back before reaching her ass again and giving it a possessive squeeze. Reluctantly, he released her nipple from its captivity in his mouth. Then he lifted her and she grabbed at his shoulders while he carried her to the bed, laying her down. He took the opportunity to rid himself of his jeans and she watched him, her eyes lingering over the noticeable bulge in his boxers. Noticing where her eyes were fixed, Miroku smirked.

Sango rolled to kneel on the bed in front of where he stood and she ran her hands over him again before letting them rest on his shoulders, leaning in for another kiss. He returned it, tasting her and drinking her in. As they kissed, Sango slid her hands south, pausing at the waistband of his boxers hesitantly. Just as she felt bold enough to take him in her hand, Miroku gently took hold of her wrist, holding it in place.

“No. Not yet.” He said, breaking the kiss and breathing hard.

“What?”

“Your pleasure first.”

With that statement, Miroku undid her jeans and, lifting her up, helped her remove the rest of her clothing. She knelt in front of him, totally naked, and for a moment he thought this must be what nirvana was like. Or heaven. This woman right here before him, totally bare to his eyes and looking at him with eyes glazed over with desire, was paradise.

“Uhm, Miroku?”

“Yes?”

“If you keep staring at me like that...it’s making me…” She trailed off, clearly too shy to finish the sentence, but he didn’t miss the way she squirmed slightly, rubbing her thighs together. 

He felt an intense spike of arousal rush through him at her own blatant need for him and he had to remind himself not to go too fast with her. She wasn’t just some random girl he met at a bar, only good for a few nights of meaningless sex; she was the woman he loved. He had never really been in love before her and it made everything so much more intense. And while she was technically not a virgin she might as well be, considering she had done it one time only, and that one time had been a terrible experience for her. Miroku was going to make sure that this time, with him, would be nothing like that. He wanted this to be all about her, her pleasure, and making her feel loved and wanted. But first...

“Sango, before we go any further, I want you to know this. If at any point you don’t like anything I’m doing, or change your mind, tell me and I’ll stop. It might kill me, but I’ll stop.”

“I’m not going to ask you to stop.” Sango told him, reaching for the waistband of his boxers and giving it a small tug. “I...I know I’m not very experienced, and probably won’t be as good as-- as others you’ve had, but I’m a fast learner and--”

“Stop.” Miroku shushed her with a finger to her lips. “Your experience, or lack thereof, doesn’t matter to me. Sango, none of the others I’ve been with could ever hope to hold a candle to you simply because they are not you. You’re the one I love; the only one I want.”

“I just don’t want to...to be disappointing.” Sango admitted.

“That would be impossible.”

Miroku joined her on the bed, kneeling beside her and kissing her again as he caressed her all over, paying careful attention to her breasts. His fingertips trailed lightly up and over her soft thighs but stopped just short of touching her where she was aching for him. She made the most beautiful, breathy sounds against his lips, burying a hand in his hair and the other clinging to his back.

“Spread your legs.” Miroku told her and she hesitantly obeyed. Still kissing her and holding her to him with one arm, he used the other to trace a path over her leg before reaching her inner thigh. The wetness he encountered there made him suck in a breath. The insides of her thighs were covered with the evidence of her arousal and he felt his cock twitch again, straining at the fabric of his boxers. 

“God, you’re so wet.” He whispered and she blushed.

“I-it’s your fault...with the way you’ve been touching me, looking at me, speaking to me...” Sango breathed back, squirming.

“In that case, I accept all the blame.”

His fingers slipped between her legs and he stroked her slowly, exploring her sopping wet folds. She let out a low moan and he swallowed it with another kiss. Running his fingers over her labia, he teased another moan out of her, his fingers drenched in her juices. Then he parted her lips and his fingers found her sensitive nub, rubbing a short, taut circle around it.

“Ahh!” Sango cried out, breaking their kiss. Her body jolted at the touch and she spread her legs wider. Any shyness left in her quickly disappeared as his fingers played with her. “Fuck! God, right there...”

“You mean here?”

Miroku plucked once more at her clit before stopping and Sango let out a whimper of need. He was teasing her, deliberately not giving her what she wanted. She needed him to touch her there, again and again. And then he did, and it was heaven.

“Mmm, ahh! Yes, there--” Sango barely managed to get out the words as Miroku pressed against her clit with his thumb in slow motions while one of his fingers slipped inside of her. The sound she made as he inserted a second finger to join the first was so loud she feared the neighboring rooms would hear her. Miroku began to slide them in and out of her, continuing to rub at her clit in excruciatingly slow circles.

Miroku didn’t think it was possible to get any more turned on than he already was but he was wrong. The cry that had just escaped her lips, the way her body was beginning to undulate against his hand...fuck.

“That’s my new favorite sound. I want to hear you make it again, and again.” Miroku told her, his voice almost a growl. He began to move his hand faster against her, his thumb frantically rubbing small whirls around her bundle of nerves, his fingers thrusting more quickly and Sango’s moans and cries grew in volume.

Grabbing onto his shoulders for leverage, Sango began to move her hips in time to the movements of his fingers, panting in between her groans and gasps of pleasure. She was so wet, so turned on, and his fingers felt so good on her, inside her. None of the times she had ever masturbated had ever been like this and she wondered if it was because this was Miroku touching her, or if his hands were really that talented. It didn’t matter, though. All that mattered was finding her release.

She rode his hand, rolling her hips against him as he fingered her. Pressure began to coil tightly in her abdomen and she could feel she was close, so close, to coming undone, wetness spilling from her. Her head fell back, eyes partially closed.

“M-Miroku...fuck...I’m going to…”

Miroku sped up his movements, rubbing at her clit faster and fucking her with his fingers harder, building her up and taking her body to the precipice, where she was on the verge of falling over.

“Cum for me, Sango.” Miroku whispered the command in her ear as he gently scraped his nail across her overly sensitive nub, sending her over the edge. With a loud cry Sango came, the orgasm taking hold of her body as she shook from the pleasure, her walls clenching and releasing rapidly around his fingers, fingers that continued to stroke her, wringing out every last shudder, until at last the aftershocks had faded and she leaned her forehead against his. They stayed that way for a couple minutes while she recovered until at last she was able to speak.

“God, Miroku...that was…”

“Incredible? Amazing? The best thing you’ve ever felt?” He half joked and she let out a laugh.

“Yes, actually.” She said, still panting a little bit and leaning in to give him a short, sweet kiss. Not that Miroku’s ego needed a boost. “I’ve never felt it so...so intense before.”

“It will always be like that with me.” Miroku told her in a self-assured voice, removing his fingers from her. 

Sango wanted to return the favor and make him feel as good as he had just made her feel, and she reached down between them to stroke at the bulge in his boxers. Miroku groaned at her touch. Feeling a little less hesitant after that, Sango felt him up more firmly, moving her hand over the length of him. She could feel he was large, but not so big that she felt concerned about him fitting inside of her. Somehow she knew they would fit together perfectly.

“S-Sango…”

“Take these off.” She commanded, more confidently than she was actually feeling. She honestly had no idea what she was doing, but she had read books, heard things…

They broke apart briefly and Miroku removed the last of his clothing and then knelt before her on the bed, as naked as she was. The last part of him was finally laid bare to her and she took him in, savoring the sight. Miroku was confident in his looks and his body, knowing he was an attractive man and having used that fact to his advantage many times. Still, he all but preened at the appreciative way she studied him before her eyes settled on the area between his legs. He felt himself grow even harder at her intense scrutiny.

He was so erect his cock was jutting out from his body, precum on the tip. Reaching out with a hand she carefully wrapped it around the base of his shaft and gave a small squeeze and then moved along his length to the head and back down again. Miroku’s body jerked at the touch and she repeated her motions more quickly this time, beginning to develop a rhythm. He let out a choked gasp and she looked up into his face.

“I--I’ve never really done this before, but I want to make you feel good too.” She confessed. “Tell me what you want.”

“Fuck, Sango, your hand feels perfect.” Miroku groaned as she continued to pump him. “Just like that. Uhn! But faster...more firmly.”

Sango began to stroke his cock faster, squeezing harder as she worked the length of him and Miroku groaned and panted at her ministrations. Despite her inexperience he would swear this was the best handjob he had ever received and he felt the pressure of his release begin to build. Maybe it was because he loved her so much, wanted her so much, fantasized about it so much that to have her here on this bed, with him, jerking his cock furiously with her hand...it was fucking heaven.

Emboldened by the sounds of pleasure he was making, Sango moved her hand even faster while her other hand reached under to gently cup his balls and softly massage them. Miroku shuddered at the sensations and gripped her tightly, letting out a long, low groan as his hips started to involuntarily move against her hand. He began to meet her strokes with thrusts of his own, fucking her hand, unable to control it. It felt so fucking good.

“Fuck...God, Sango…I’m going to...”

Sango brought her grip back to the head and lightly ran her thumb over the tip, pressing gently, and Miroku exploded. His body jerked as he came all over her hand, letting out a cry that turned into grunts and gasps. She continued her motions until his climax subsided, after which she removed her hands.

“Sango, you’re amazing.” He told her, and she smiled, clearly pleased at how she had just brought him his own pleasure.

Panting, Miroku watched as she brought the hand covered in his cum up to her mouth and tasted it, her tongue licking it from her palm and fingertips before swallowing it all. His own mouth went dry and his dick gave a painful twitch at the incredibly erotic sight. Fuck. Already getting turned on again, he felt lightheaded for a second.

“Did you actually just...?” He asked her, unable to believe what he had just seen her do. Her smile faded and she began to look unsure.

“I-I thought guys liked it when girls did this, and...I was curious how it tasted--”

She broke off as Miroku pulled her to him in a heated kiss, taking her mouth with his own hungrily. As he kissed her he pushed her back onto the bed until she was laying on her back with his body over hers, her head against the pillows and her long hair fanned out around her like a halo, which was fitting because she was an angel. An angel come to send him to nirvana with her sweet body. Nibbling her bottom lip between his teeth and tasting himself on her lips, Miroku gave it a small tug before releasing it and stared into her eyes.

“Sango, that was probably one of the most erotic things I’ve ever fucking seen. I just couldn’t believe you would do something like that, or want to.” Miroku assured her.

“Why not? Especially if you like it. I mean, it honestly didn’t taste so bad, just really salty.” 

That’s it. He was going to marry this woman, and have her bear all of his children. She was fucking perfect. 

“Have I mentioned I love you?”

She laughed and gave his shoulder a playful smack before soothing the sting with a caress, her fingers trailing over his muscled back.

Miroku kissed her again then broke away to trail his lips over her body, stopping at every scar to press a kiss to it and telling her how beautiful she was. Eventually, slowly, he made his way down her belly, reaching her pelvis. He paused, looking up at her and she raised her head to lock eyes with him.

“Miroku?”

“Seeing as how you've tasted me, it's my turn to repay the favor.” He told her, giving her a wicked smile and spreading her legs.

Sango watched as Miroku settled himself between her thighs and then his mouth was on her and oh God. His tongue slipped between her folds and found her clit, flicking it with the tip and earning a cry from her as her body jerked from the sensation. He repeated the motion several more times, coaxing a keening sound from her that ended in a moan. Moving away from her bundle of nerves, his tongue lapped at her opening, darting in and out, teasing and tasting her for a while. Then his tongue reached her nub again and flicked at it some more.

Reaching down with one hand, Sango grasped at his head between her legs and buried her fingers in his hair, pressing down and urging him on. Her other hand clutched wildly at the sheets around her as she began to writhe under Miroku’s mouth. Sounds she had never made before were spilling from her lips and she couldn’t seem to stop it. Didn’t want to. Her moans seemed to spur him on.

Miroku alternately laved at her clit and teased at her opening, pausing momentarily to simply drink her in, figuratively and literally. He swallowed a mouthful of her juices that were continuing to flow freely from her core. She tasted divine.

“Miroku! Ahh! Please, ah... right there... so good…” Sango cried out, barely able to form the words around all her moans and gasps of need. She could feel her orgasm building, feel the coil winding tightly in her belly, begging for release.

He began to use his lips, kissing and tugging at her folds while his tongue continued to stroke her most sensitive places. More moans escaped her mouth, raising in pitch and volume as he worked her. Her hips started to move and soon she was gyrating against him uncontrollably, the hand in his hair pushing down hard in silent demand. Miroku slid his hands from her thighs to her hips to pin her down and hold her in place as his mouth continued to devour her mercilessly. 

Sensing she was close to the edge, Miroku gently took hold of her clit between his lips and sucked at it hard while his tongue drew quick circles around and over it. His dick was achingly erect again, all her moans and thrashing turning him on beyond all reason and he rubbed himself against the bed to ease the pressure. No other woman had ever driven him as wild before. But he hadn't ever been in love with any other woman. They hadn't been Sango.

“Ahh! Ah! Fuck…Miroku...please...let me-- Aahh!! I need--Mm!” Sango begged, almost incoherently, and Miroku sucked at her clit harder, faster, then softly nibbled at it with his teeth and fuck. Sango came hard, almost screaming her release as her body convulsed with her crashing orgasm. The spasms of absolute ecstasy tore through her and when it finally passed, she lay there, utterly spent and panting hard.

Miroku kissed his way back up her body then took her mouth again in a slow, deep kiss and she tasted herself on his lips. He positioned himself above her, supporting his weight on one knee, his cock at her soaking wet opening and finally broke off the kiss to stare into her eyes.

“Sango, I’m going to put it in now. Are you ready?”

She nodded her consent and he pushed, slowing entering her. Miroku groaned through gritted teeth as he forced himself to take his time, but fuck she felt so good. Her pussy was so hot and so wet.

Sango stiffened at the intrusion, her earlier languor replaced by discomfort and slight pain. She breathed sharply, holding back a whimper and shutting her eyes. Miroku noticed and stopped, only a few inches in, giving her body time to adjust to him. After a few long moments the pain faded a bit and she opened her eyes again, meeting Miroku’s concerned face. She knew he had to be using all his self control to hold back from taking her as hard and as fast as he no doubt wanted to.

“It’s okay. I’m okay. You can keep going.” She told him and he released the breath he had been holding. He entered her fully and the pain disappeared entirely. Sango wrapped her arms around him, hands running over his back.

As he had suspected, her body resisted the intrusion of his cock inside of her, unused to the sensation or any kind of sexual activity. Moving slowly, he withdrew his dick until only the head remained inside her then, after a slight pause, pushed himself back in just as slowly. Continuing like this for a few minutes, Miroku breathed heavily, groaning at the sweet torture.

Sango’s body finally relaxed, accepting and even welcoming his cock and she began to shift herself against him every time he entered her fully. It was a strange feeling but it also felt good. She hoped he would get the hint and start to move faster but he kept the same pace. 

“Faster. Please...move faster.” Sango gasped out as pleasure began flowing through her. He felt so good inside of her and she wanted more.

At her command, Miroku increased his pace and she gave a moan from beneath him. That only fueled his own need but he still didn’t totally let go of his control, trying to be careful with her. At least not until Sango moaned again and started to raise her hips upwards against him, matching his thrusts, and almost pleading, “M-Miroku...I said you can move faster. Don’t hold back...I want it.”

Fuck. He let go of his control and thrust into her wildly, taking her as hard and as fast as he had been dying to and she felt so fucking good around him, her tight pussy practically milking his cock as he slammed himself in and out of her. 

“Is this what you want?” He panted.

Sango clutched at him as he moved, shivering at the delicious friction of his cock rubbing against her walls and his pelvis pressing against her clit with each frantic thrust. Cries began to escape her lips and she tried to respond but moaned louder instead.

“Tell me, Sango, what do you want?” Miroku demanded, and he forced himself to slow down, teasing her by deliberately withdrawing from her hot core, pausing a moment, then slamming back into her. He repeated the motions, playing with her as she became as desperate for him as he was for her, writhing beneath him. Her fingernails scratched at his back and she looked at him, panting and gasping.

“D-don’t… tease me...Mmmm!…” Sango managed, needing him to go faster again and continue to increase the incredible pleasure wrapping itself tightly around her.

“What do you want? Say it.” He growled, wanting just as badly to lose himself in her again, to fuck her senseless. 

Sango grabbed at his face and pulled him down towards her, speaking brokenly in between the gasps.

“Just...fuck me...Miroku! Do me...hard and fast...please!”

Any semblance of control was lost at hearing those words from her lips, his cock pulsing with sharp arousal as he began to thrust into her furiously. Her breasts bounced in time to his movements and her cries increased in volume. He pounded himself into her, grunting and groaning as she urged him on by wrapping her legs, those perfect legs, around him, allowing him to go even deeper. Moving his hands beneath her, he cupped her ass and lifted her up against him as she held onto him tightly.

“S-Sango...fuck, I’m going to…” Miroku grunted as he drove himself into her. He gave it to her harder, pressing into her and finding her sweet spot, causing more moans and cries to fall from her lips. She was incredible.

“M-me too..” Sango breathed back. She could feel her own release was close and squeezed her legs around him, trying to meet his breakneck pace but unable to keep up he was going so fast. The lower part of him was rubbing frenetically against her clit again and she had never felt so fucking good before. It was pure rapture. He pumped his cock in and out of her with an urgency and that wonderful friction of him built itself up again until she was on the edge. At his next thrust the pleasure exploded and she screamed his name as she came. She almost saw stars as her body shook from the force of the orgasm rolling through her.

Miroku watched her orgasm with reverence, finding it the most entrancing thing he had ever seen. Then her walls clamped down hard around his dick, shaking and twitching, and it triggered his own climax. He gave a hoarse cry as he came hard, choking out her name and spilling himself inside of her. They held each other through the waves of ecstasy coursing through both of them as it wrung them dry. When it passed they stayed that way for a few minutes, simply catching their breath and looking into each other’s eyes. Then Miroku pulled out and lay on his side next to her, still holding onto her ass possessively. He gave it a gentle squeeze and kissed the top of her head, earning himself a smile as she curled into him.

“I love you.” She told him simply as he leaned in, kissing her sweetly while she ran her hands over his back, trying to soothe the scratches she had no doubt left behind.

“Fuck, Sango, you're incredible. I may not have been your first but I intend to be your last. I hope you realize I’m never letting you go now. You’re mine.”

“I intend to hold you to that. You're mine now, too.” She replied, still smiling.

“I’ve been yours since the day I met you, my dear Sango.” Miroku returned and she gave a laugh.

“Is that so?”

“I assure you it is.”

“I’m glad you were patient and waited for me to come around.”

“You were more than worth it.” Miroku told her, and she practically glowed with happiness. Then his gaze turned mischievous. “Alright, now I have to ask. How does the real thing compare to your dreams? I’m dying to know.”

Sango removed her hands from him and gave the back of his head a smack before turning an unamused stare on him, her cheeks pinking.

“Seriously? Ask me that again and I’ll push you out of this bed.”

“Are you still embarrassed about that? That’s adorable.”

“Shut up.”

My dreams couldn’t even hope to compare to the reality that was you on me, around me, and inside me. But she didn’t say it, just continued to give him a look and he chuckled.

"So much better you can't even speak, I see." Miroku teased, dodging another smack from her. "Fine, fine. I'll stop. For now."

"Good. You're ruining the moment."

Miroku broke apart from her briefly to pull the covers down and then situated himself beside her under them. Sango settled herself on his chest, and he held her, wondering how he had gotten so lucky. As one of his hands gently stroked through her hair she took comfort in the steady sound of his heartbeat at her ear.

~☆~

The sound of knocking woke Sango up and she came alert, becoming aware of a few things all at the same time. Her and Miroku were naked in bed together, the clock on the nightstand read 10:02, and Kagome’s voice was calling for them on the other side of their hotel room door accompanied by more knocking. Oh shit. They had been supposed to be ready to go at ten. 

“Looks like we’ve overslept.” Miroku remarked calmly from behind her. 

“Hurry up and put on your clothes!” Sango ordered as she shot up, throwing aside the sheets, and making a beeline for her own.

“Kagome, give them a few minutes. Trust me.” Inuyasha’s voice could be heard saying through the door, and it sounded amused.

“Sorry, Kagome! We’ll be right out in five minutes!” Sango called back, and the knocking stopped.

Miroku was a little disappointed they hadn’t been able to take time to enjoy the morning after, or even go for another round. However the sight of her dashing around the room naked as she rushed to pick up the clothes he had left strewn all over the floor last night almost made it worth it. When they were both dressed and had their bags in hand, Sango opened the door to see Inuyasha and Kagome waiting for them on the other side. 

“Sorry for the delay. We forgot to set an alarm.” Miroku said smoothly.

“Sango, aren’t those the clothes you were wearing yesterday? I thought you brought a change.” Kagome observed, and Sango froze, silently cursing and her face flushing.

“I, uh…” Sango didn’t have a good excuse, and she didn’t want to tell her best friend that she had had sex with Miroku while Inuyasha and her afore-mentioned boyfriend were standing right next to her. Yeah, I just threw on the first things I could find so it totally didn’t look like I was naked moments before. 

“Are you blushing??” Kagome questioned.

“They mated.” Inuyasha stated, smirking. “Their scents are all over each other. That’s why I told ya to wait a bit.”

“Mated…? What does th-- oh. OH.” Kagome’s eyes widened in realization. Then she grinned, happy for Sango, knowing what a big step this had been for her. She was slightly jealous but she didn’t allow that to take away from her excitement for her best friend. And she was definitely going to ask her all about it later.

“You can smell that?!” Sango exclaimed, embarrassed and slightly scandalized. And then immediately realized what a dumb question that was. He was a dog demon, after all.

“Inuyasha...a little tact would be nice.” Miroku sighed.

“Kinda hard when you’re reeking of sex.” Inuyasha returned unapologetically. “Besides, I heard you last night.”

“What??” Sango’s eyes grew large. 

“Parts of it, anyway. You weren’t exactly quiet.”

“I didn’t hear anything.” Kagome assured her.

“You don’t have demonic hearing. I tuned it out after the first couple times. You guys really went at it.”

“Can you please just stop talking!” Sango yelled, resisting the urge to bury her face in her hands. Inuyasha had made it sound like she and Miroku had done it all night long when in reality it had only been three times. Miroku didn’t seem to be bothered but why would he be? The man was shameless, after all. Knowing him, he was probably feeling rather proud of himself. 

“Inuyasha, that’s enough. You’re embarrassing her.” Miroku admonished, but Sango could see his lips twitch as he fought back a smug grin. She had to resist the urge to elbow him in the side. Ugh, men.

“Come on, Kagome. We need to check out.” Sango said, grabbing hold of Kagome’s arm and rushing to the elevator without waiting for the two men. Suppressing a smile, Kagome allowed Sango to steer her down the hall while mentally making a note to ask Inuyasha what exactly he had heard. She was dying to know, and wondered how it would match up to what Sango decided to tell her when they talked later. Because they would talk about it; as her best friend Kagome considered herself entitled to all the details.

A little while later they were all packed into the car and headed back to Tokyo. About halfway there an idea occurred to Kagome.

“We really need to find Tsubaki, right?” She spoke into the momentary lull of conversation.

“Duh. I thought that was obvious.” Inuyasha snarked and she had to close her eyes for patience and remind herself she loved him.

“Would you let me finish?”

“Well, you asked.”

“It was obviously rhetorical.”

“Then be more clear.”

“Anyways,” Kagome pressed on, shooting the half demon an annoyed glance. “I was thinking about trying another location ritual. Let me finish.” She stressed the last part when Inuyasha began to voice his protest to that particular statement.

“What are you thinking?” Sango prompted.

“The last time I wasn’t fully prepared and I’ll own that. I didn’t shield myself and left myself and Inuyasha open to attack. This time would be different. And I would need your help, Miroku.” Kagome continued.

Miroku glanced at her in the rearview mirror. “What do you need?”

“For you to perform the ritual with me. If we combine our reiki we could double the protection and also the potency of the spell. And this time actually get a real lead on her. Of course, Inuyasha and Sango would be standing by just in case anything went amiss.”

“Okay. I’m willing.” Miroku agreed easily and Sango voiced her own agreement. Inuyasha was the only one silent and Kagome looked at him. He sighed heavily. 

“Fine. It’s a decent idea.” He conceded, albeit grudgingly and Kagome rewarded him with a dazzling smile, grabbing his hand, holding it tightly. She raised herself briefly to brush a quick kiss onto his cheek and he gave her a soft smile.

“Thank you.” She told him simply. “This time will be different. We can do this.”

Soon they would find Tsubaki and put a stop to her diabolical plan. They wouldn’t allow her to succeed. They couldn’t afford to.