#if I wanted to be somewhere where it’s too noisy all the time and impossible to talk to ppl I’d go stand on an airport runway or smth IDK

[airborneice]

thinking abt the time I was at my work’s xmas party a few days after s3 aired & one of my coworkers came up to me and immediately asked if I’d seen the new hilda and I tried to tell her I rly liked it but the music was up so high and I physically couldn’t project loud enough for her to hear a word I was saying so in the end I just pulled out my phone & showed her this

i think we all know who the REAL star of season 3 is

i'm making a vague attempt to pace out this season by doing a drawing after each episode, so anyway here's my new fave character

[lila-lou]

✨His true fate - Part 22/?✨

Summary: Jensen hasn't been happy for years. But it seems almost impossible for him to escape. After another nasty argument between him and his wife, he decides to visit his ´former´ best friend for his birthday. Back in Austin, an encounter awaits him that will turn his life completely upside down.

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only!, SMUTTTT, Language, age gap, fluff

Word Count: 7322

A/N: English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

You bit your lip, glancing down at Jensen, who was still seated in his chair, absentmindedly rolling his fingertips around as if lost in thought. His brow furrowed slightly, and you could see the traces of tension that lingered in his features despite the banter with Misha and Jared. There was something about the way he sat there, quiet and contemplative, that tugged at your heart.

You ached to be alone with him, to feel his arms around you and to kiss him in the way you could only do behind closed doors. It wasn’t something you could do in public—not with his friends so close by and the attention that always came with being around them. You understood that there were boundaries when it came to his world, boundaries you respected, but that didn’t make the longing any less.

You knew, though, that there were still many weeks ahead of you—weeks where you and Jensen could simply be together, away from the eyes of the public, away from the teasing remarks and the protective glances. There would be quiet mornings, late-night talks, and moments when it was just the two of you. That knowledge grounded you, helped you push aside the urge to retreat somewhere private with him right now.

Jensen must have felt you looking at him because his eyes slowly lifted to meet yours. The softness there—so different from the playful teasing just a few moments ago—said everything. He gave you a small, knowing smile, his hand reaching up to gently squeeze your fingers where they rested on his shoulder. His touch was reassuring, and you knew he felt it too—the desire to be alone, but also the patience that came with the understanding of your current situation.

You smiled back at him, trying to convey through that look how much you understood. He squeezed your hand one more time before slowly standing, his arm instinctively wrapping around your waist once more.

"Alright", Jensen said, his voice steady but warm, pulling himself back into the moment. "Let's go get those drinks".

Jared grinned, clapping Jensen on the back. “That’s the spirit!”.

Misha smirked, leaning toward you both. “And maybe we can find a place with a dimly lit corner where Jensen won’t feel so uptight about showing some PDA”, he teased.

Jensen rolled his eyes good-naturedly but couldn’t hide the grin tugging at his lips. “Don’t push your luck, Misha”.

The four of you headed out of the room, the tension from earlier almost forgotten as the night awaited. And while you couldn’t indulge in everything you wanted to right now, you knew that those moments with Jensen—when it was just the two of you—would come soon enough. For now, you were content with the warmth of his arm around you and the promise of what lay ahead.

A few hours and a few drinks later, the four of you found yourselves tucked away in the back corner of a dimly lit bar. The atmosphere was warm, loud enough to provide privacy but not so noisy that you couldn’t hear each other. The low lighting gave the booth a cozy, intimate feeling, even amid the bar’s hum of activity. Drinks in hand, you all relaxed into the easy rhythm of conversation, the earlier tensions long forgotten.

Misha, ever the instigator, swirled his drink and leaned back against the booth, his eyes still wide with disbelief. “I just can’t believe no one knew about this whole… arrangement”, he said, looking pointedly at Jensen, shaking his head. “You and Danneel have been doing this for how long? And not one person in our circle knew?”.

Jensen sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, his usual sign of discomfort when the topic veered into tricky territory. “Yeah, well, we kept it under wraps”, he said simply, his voice steady but cautious. “It wasn’t anyone’s business, you know?”.

Jared raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. “Wait, so all this time, while the rest of the world thought you two were the picture-perfect couple, you were…?”.

Jensen shrugged, taking a sip of his drink before continuing. “Like I said, we had an understanding. It wasn’t… what people thought it was. It worked for us. For a while”.

Misha shook his head again, clearly still processing. “So, you could just… do whatever you wanted as long as it was behind closed doors?”, he asked incredulously, his voice lowering slightly as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing.

Jensen chuckled lightly, more out of discomfort than humor. “Pretty much”, he admitted.

Misha leaned forward slightly, his eyes narrowing with curiosity. “So… does Danneel know about her?”, he asked, nodding toward you with an inquisitive raise of his eyebrow.

Jensen paused, his fingers toying with the edge of his glass as he considered how to answer. He hesitated for a moment longer before mumbling, “Partly”.

You furrowed your brow at that, shifting slightly in your seat as you looked at him. You weren’t aware there had been any partial knowledge, or what that even meant in this situation. Jensen glanced at you, reading the curiosity and mild confusion in your expression.

“She knows there’s someone”, Jensen began, his voice a bit quieter now, a touch of strain beneath the casual tone. “It’s not just the same kind of… casual arrangement we’ve both had before. This is different, and she knows that much. She knows it’s not just me fooling around”.

Misha’s eyebrows shot up, his mouth opening in a knowing “ah”. He took a long sip of his drink before saying, “And that’s what’s bothering her, huh?”.

Jensen nodded slowly, his gaze dropping to the table as he swirled the amber liquid in his glass. “Yeah, it bothers her. She always knew we were both seeing other people—it’s part of the deal—but the idea that I might actually be serious about someone… well, that’s something different for her”.

You felt a pang of realization hit you. While you knew that Jensen and Danneel’s relationship had been unconventional for a while now, you hadn’t really thought about how it might impact her to know that what he had with you was serious. It added a new layer to everything, one that was more complicated than you had anticipated.

Jared, sensing the shift in the conversation, leaned forward, his tone more thoughtful now. “So… she’s okay with the arrangement as long as it’s just casual, but now that she knows it’s not, things are getting messy?”.

Jensen nodded, letting out a small sigh. “Yeah. That pretty much sums it up”.

Misha shook his head, leaning back in his seat. “Man, that’s gotta be tough. I mean, for both of you. Knowing it’s more than just a fling changes the whole dynamic”.

Jensen’s eyes flickered over to you again, his gaze softening as he reached for your hand under the table, giving it a gentle squeeze.

Jensen took a deep breath, his fingers tightening around your hand as if drawing strength from the connection. He hesitated for a moment, clearly weighing his next words before finally speaking, his voice low and filled with a weight that hadn’t been there earlier in the conversation.

“Yesterday, before I flew out here”, Jensen began, his eyes fixed on the table, avoiding everyone’s gaze for a moment. “I told Danneel that I wanted to end things… for good. Divorce”. He let out a small, bitter chuckle, shaking his head as he continued. “And… well, she didn’t take it well”.

There was a heavy silence at the table, everyone processing the gravity of what Jensen had just admitted. You could feel his tension radiating through his grip on your hand, and you shifted slightly closer to him, offering him as much comfort as you could.

Misha, always direct and curious despite the sensitivity of the subject, leaned even more forward, his voice gentler than usual. “What did she say?”, he asked, concern and a bit of hesitancy in his tone. It was clear that even Misha, usually the joker, understood the seriousness of the situation.

Jensen sighed deeply and shook his head slightly before speaking, his voice low and tinged with frustration. “She said a lot of things”, he began. “Mostly about how I was ruining everything—her life, our family, the image we’ve built together. She said I was making the biggest mistake of my life and that I’d regret it”.

He paused for a moment, swallowing hard, clearly still processing the confrontation himself. “She was angry, of course. She felt blindsided, even though we’ve been living separate lives for a while now. But the thing that really stuck with me… she didn’t talk about us or about love or anything like that. It was all about what she stood to lose”.

Jensen let out a bitter laugh. “I think that’s when it hit me—when I realized that this wasn’t about our relationship anymore. It hasn’t been for a long time. It’s about the lifestyle, the reputation…”.

Jensen exhaled deeply, as if trying to physically push away the weight of the conversation. His grip on your hand softened slightly, and he forced a small smile, his expression shifting from the earlier tension. He looked at you, then back at Misha and Jared, and gave a dismissive shrug.

"But, you know…", he mumbled, his voice lighter now, trying to brush it off. "I’ve made up my mind. I’m filing for divorce. It’s just a matter of time now. She can say what she wants, but I’m done living that way".

He ran his fingers through his hair, and for the first time in the conversation, there was a small glint of determination in his eyes, mixed with something else—maybe relief. "So now… I’m here. I’m here to have a good time, especially with you", he said, turning his full attention to you, a real smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

You smiled back at him, grateful for the shift in energy. You could see the relief in his eyes as he allowed himself to focus on the present moment, on being with you and his friends, rather than the complications waiting for him back home.

Misha caught the change in tone immediately and leaned back with a grin. “That’s what I like to hear”, he said, raising his glass once again. “To a good time, then. No more heavy stuff tonight”.

Jared followed suit, raising his own glass. “Yeah, man. We’re here, you’re here, and it’s time to relax. Let’s make the most of it”.

Jensen chuckled, the sound lighter and more genuine than it had been all night. He clinked his glass against Misha’s and Jared’s before turning to you, holding your gaze for a beat longer. “Here’s to that”, he said quietly, his voice warm.

The four of you raised your glasses, the earlier weight of the conversation dissolving into the background as the mood lightened. Jensen, now more relaxed, leaned back in his.

Eventually, after a night filled with laughter and drinks, you and Jensen found yourselves back in the bathroom of your hotel room. The atmosphere was calm now, the lingering tension from the evening finally melting away. You stood in front of the mirror, gently wiping away your makeup, wearing nothing but a soft silk robe that hugged your body.

Jensen stepped into the bathroom quietly, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed above his chest. His eyes watched you with a quiet intensity, taking in the sight of you as you focused on your routine. The soft lighting of the bathroom made the scene feel intimate, the quiet hum of the night contrasting with the lively energy you’d both left behind downstairs.

You caught his reflection in the mirror, his gaze soft but filled with that undeniable spark of admiration and something deeper—something more vulnerable than what he usually let others see. You smiled softly, finishing the last of your makeup removal and placing the wipe on the counter.

“You’re staring”, you teased gently, turning to face him, your fingers lightly adjusting the silk robe tied around your waist.

Jensen chuckled softly, his arms still crossed as he shifted his weight against the doorframe. “Can you blame me?”, he asked, his voice low and warm, filled with a mix of affection and something else you couldn’t quite place.

You stepped toward him, the smooth fabric of your robe brushing against your skin with every movement. When you reached him, you placed a hand on his chest, feeling the warmth of his body beneath your palm.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?”, you asked softly, looking up at him with curiosity. You could tell there was more behind his gaze tonight, something deeper lurking beneath the surface.

Jensen uncrossed his arms, one hand gently brushing a strand of hair from your face as he let out a small sigh. “Just… thinking”, he said quietly, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw. “About tonight. About everything”.

Jensen’s hand moved gently across your back, his touch sending a warm shiver through you despite the soft tension in the air. His fingers grazed your spine lightly as if grounding himself in the moment with you. You noticed he was still dressed in his clothes from earlier in the day—jeans and a simple t-shirt that had somehow made him look effortlessly put together, even after everything the night had brought.

You tilted your head slightly, looking up at him through your lashes, your voice quiet and teasing. “I don’t know if I like this deep-in-thoughts Jensen”, you mumbled, a playful smile tugging at your lips as you tried to break through some of the lingering heaviness.

Jensen let out a small chuckle, his lips curving into a gentle smile as his thumb continued to trace the line of your jaw. “Yeah?”, he murmured, his voice soft. “Well, this version of me seems to show up more than I’d like lately”.

You placed a hand on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart under your fingertips, and you could tell he was still working through everything that had happened tonight—everything he’d been carrying for a while now. But even in the midst of all of that, there was a quiet intensity in the way he was looking at you, as if you were the calm in his storm.

“I think I like the relaxed Jensen better”, you teased, your fingers tracing light patterns over his chest. “The one who smiles more… laughs more”.

Jensen’s smile grew a bit wider, and he leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “I’ll work on that”, he whispered against your skin.

His hand slipped under the loose fabric of your robe, resting on your lower back now, and he pulled you closer. You could feel the heat of his body radiating through his clothes, grounding you as you stood there in the quiet intimacy of the moment.

“You know, you help with that”, he admitted, his voice still low but with a warmth that made your heart flutter. “It’s easier to let go of all the other stuff when I’m with you”.

You smiled up at him, your heart swelling at his words. “Good”, you whispered, resting your head against his chest for a moment. “Because I like seeing that side of you”.

Jensen’s arms tightened around you slightly, holding you close as the weight of everything seemed to melt away in the silence. It was just the two of you now, wrapped up in the quiet comfort of each other’s presence.

After a few moments, he leaned back just enough to look down at you, his gaze soft but more relaxed now. “Why don’t we change that deep-in-thoughts Jensen into something more fun?”, he suggested, his voice playful now.

You raised an eyebrow, smirking up at him. “Oh yeah? What did you have in mind?”.

Jensen’s grin turned mischievous, and with a swift but gentle movement, he scooped you up into his arms, making you let out a surprised laugh.

Jensen’s grin widened as he carried you effortlessly out of the bathroom and towards the bed. You wrapped your arms around his neck, still giggling from the sudden movement, feeling a surge of warmth spread through your chest. There was something about the way he looked at you now—playful, yet filled with an intensity that made your pulse quicken.

As he laid you down gently on the bed, hovering above you, he leaned down and brushed a few soft kisses along your jawline. His breath was warm against your skin, sending a shiver through you.

“You know”, he murmured between kisses, his voice low and teasing, “earlier tonight, you said something about me… neglecting you”. He moved his lips down to your neck, his kisses feather-light and deliberate.

You felt a thrill at his words, biting your lip to suppress the smile threatening to spread across your face. “Mmm, did I now?”, you teased back, your fingers sliding into his hair, pulling him closer.

Jensen pulled back just slightly to meet your eyes, his gaze darkening with playful intensity. “Yeah, you did. You said I didn’t take my time with you. That I was too rough, too fast”, he continued, his fingers gently tracing the edge of your robe, teasing the fabric.

You could feel your heart racing at his words, your breath hitching slightly as he looked down at you with that mix of desire and affection. “Well, you were”, you teased, your voice light but carrying a challenge. “You didn’t exactly take your time earlier…”.

Jensen chuckled softly, shaking his head as he trailed his fingers down your side, leaving a heated path in their wake. “I suppose I owe you an apology then”, he murmured, leaning in closer again. “But maybe I can make it up to you… if you let me”.

You shivered under his touch, your lips parting slightly as you felt the weight of his words. He was close now, his face inches from yours, and you could feel the warmth of his breath on your skin.

“I’m listening”, you whispered, your voice barely above a breath, anticipation buzzing between you.

Jensen’s eyes darkened with a mix of desire and mischief as he hovered just above you. His hand slid slowly from your side to your waist, fingers grazing your skin lightly, sending shivers through you. He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke, his voice a low, sensual murmur.

“You know”, he whispered, his breath hot against your ear, “I could take my time with you. Make sure every touch, every kiss, is exactly what you need. I want to feel you tremble beneath me, see you lose control”.

His lips traced a line down your neck, his breath warm and teasing. “I want to make you forget everything but how good it feels when I’m inside you”, he continued, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. “I want to draw out every moan until you’re begging for more”.

You felt your breath quicken, your body responding to his words with a mix of eagerness and anticipation. His hand slid up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly across your lips before leaning in to capture them in a tender kiss. It was a kiss that started slow and deep, building in intensity, just as he promised.

“You like the sound of that?”, he asked, pulling back just enough to meet your eyes, a teasing smile playing on his lips. “I want to make sure you get exactly what you need tonight. Tell me what you want”.

You pulled Jensen closer by his neck, your fingers curling around his strong, warm skin. Your lips found his with a sense of urgency, the kiss deep and hungry as if you were both trying to make up for lost time. Jensen responded instantly, his hands moving to frame your face, his fingers tangling in your hair as he kissed you back with equal fervor.

The world outside seemed to disappear as you lost yourself in the intensity of the moment. The kisses were both tender and demanding, a blend of passion and affection that had your heart racing and your body yearning for more.

“Tell me what you want,” he murmured again, his voice low and rough, brushing his lips against yours lightly as he spoke.

“I want you”, you breathed, your hands sliding down to grip his shirt, pulling him closer again. “I want you to show me exactly how you’re going to make it up to me”.

Jensen’s smile widened, a mixture of satisfaction and anticipation lighting up his face. He leaned in, capturing your lips once more, his kisses becoming more insistent and heated. His hands roamed over your body with a renewed sense of purpose.

Jensen’s kisses trailed down your neck again, each touch light and reverent. His fingers delicately traced the edges of your silk robe, gently parting the fabric as he explored the skin beneath. His breath was warm against your collarbone, causing a shiver to run through your body with the gentle contact.

As the robe fell open, Jensen took a moment to look down, his gaze sweeping over your body. Each time he saw you like this, it was as if he was seeing you anew, and his reaction was always the same—a deep, overwhelming admiration mixed with a hint of disbelief at his own fortune. His face softened as he leaned against your collarbone, his lips pressing a tender kiss there.

You pressed his head gently against your skin, guiding him closer as your legs wrapped around his hips, pulling him flush against you. The closeness heightened the electric sensation of his touch, making your heart race faster.

“I need you, Jay”, you whispered, your voice trembling slightly with the depth of your desire. The words were barely audible, but they carried the weight of your need and longing.

Jensen’s breath hitched at your plea, his body responding to the urgency in your voice. He nuzzled against your neck, his hands gripping your hips with a firm, yet tender pressure. “I’m right here”, he murmured. “I’m here”.

His lips traveled from your collarbone to the hollow of your throat, his kisses growing more fervent as he continued to explore you. His hands moved to your back, drawing you closer, as if he were trying to meld himself with you.

“I’m not going anywhere”, he promised, his words mingling with his kisses, his touch both comforting and thrilling. “You have all of me, right here”.

He tilted your head slightly to access your mouth more fully, his kiss deepening, expressing the intense desire he felt for you. Every touch, every kiss was a testament to the connection between you both—a connection that was as passionate as it was profound.

You broke the kiss, your breath coming in soft, uneven bursts as you gazed up at him. With a determined look, you reached for his shirt, your fingers deftly working to undo the buttons. Each movement was filled with a mix of urgency and tenderness, as you sought to remove the barrier between you.

Jensen’s eyes never left yours, his expression a mixture of anticipation and affection. He lifted his arms to assist as you pulled the shirt free from his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor beside the bed. The sight of his bare chest made your heart race even more, and you could see the same admiration and desire reflected in his eyes.

He leaned in again, his lips finding yours in a searing kiss, his hands moving to cradle your face. The warmth of his skin against yours intensified the connection between you, making every touch and kiss feel even more significant.

As the kiss deepened, Jensen’s hands roamed over your body, exploring the newfound freedom of skin against skin. His touch was gentle yet assertive, a perfect balance that made every moment feel electric.

You wrapped your legs around his hips tighter, urging him closer, feeling the heat of his body pressed against yours. The intimacy of the moment was palpable, a blend of passion and tenderness that made everything else fade away.

As Jensen’s body pressed against yours, the sensation of his hard erection rubbing against your already heated and wet core sent waves of pleasure through you. His movements were deliberate and teasing, his clothed hardness sliding against your sensitive skin.

“You feel that?”, Jensen murmured, his breath hot against your neck. He shifted his hips slightly, the friction intensifying the delicious pressure. “Can you feel how much I want you?”.

You moaned in response, the sensation making it difficult to form coherent words. Jensen’s lips pressed against your skin, his tongue flicking out to taste you as he continued to move against you. “Use your words”, he urged, his voice low and insistent. “Tell me what you’re feeling”.

The pressure of his body, combined with his teasing movements, made it hard to focus. “It feels… so good”, you managed to gasp out, your hands gripping his shoulders tighter as the pleasure built. “I can feel how much you want me”.

Jensen’s smile was almost predatory as he continued to kiss and suck on your neck, his hips pressing firmly against you. “That’s right”, he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “I want you so badly".

You bit your lip, trying to hold back your moans as his movements became more intense. “I need you”, you finally managed to say, your voice trembling with urgency. “I need you inside me”.

Jensen’s groan vibrated against your neck, echoing the growing need within you both. His hands briefly left your body, and you instantly missed his touch. He sat back, eyes locked on yours as he quickly unbuttoned his jeans.

He returned to you in a heartbeat, his movements even more purposeful now.

Jensen hovered above you, his eyes dark. The heat from his body radiated onto you, enveloping you in a cocoon of warmth and anticipation. He gripped himself firmly, his hand moving slowly over his length, preparing himself with a meticulous, deliberate touch that was as much for your arousal as it was for his readiness.

“You see what you do to me?”, he murmured, his voice low and husky. His eyes never left yours, holding your gaze with an intensity that made your heart flutter. Slowly, he aligned himself with you, the tip of his hardness pressing gently against you, teasing the promise of what was to come.

His other hand moved to trace the contour of your face, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. The tenderness of the gesture juxtaposed with the raw, palpable desire in his movements. He leaned down, his lips barely touching yours, breathing you in, his control almost slipping but not quite.

“Tell me if you want more”, he said, his breath a warm whisper against your lips. The restraint in his voice contrasted sharply with the evident need in his body, visible in the way his muscles tensed, ready to claim the intimacy you both craved.

Jensen waited for your affirmation, the air charged with electricity, your shared breaths the only sound in the quiet room. As you nodded, whispering your consent, he gently pushed forward, enveloping himself in the warmth of your welcome.

The moment Jensen began to move, the sensation was intoxicating, each slow, deliberate thrust designed to heighten the sense of union between you. His eyes stayed locked on yours, watching every flicker of pleasure, every slight shift of emotion that crossed your face.

The rhythm he set was unhurried, allowing each sensory detail to be amplified—the slick sound of skin meeting skin, the soft bedding beneath you, the dim light casting shadows that played across Jensen’s focused expression.

His free hand never stilled; it roamed from your face down to your shoulders, tracing the line of your collarbone with a featherlight touch that caused shivers to ripple through your body. His fingers then danced downwards, circling around the delicate skin of your breasts, thumb brushing lightly over a nipple, eliciting a soft gasp from your lips.

“Does this feel good?”, Jensen whispered, his voice a mere breath as he adjusted his angle slightly, hitting a depth that made you moan in response. He took your moan as an affirmation, continuing his exploration, his movements growing incrementally more firm, more assured.

Jensen’s pace gradually built, each thrust becoming more insistent, though never losing the smooth, controlled grace that he had maintained from the beginning. The tension in your body began to coil tightly, pleasure pooling and spiraling with each pass of his body against yours.

Your hands reached up to his shoulders, nails digging slightly into his skin as a wave of intensity washed over you. He responded to the slight pain with a deep groan, his own control beginning to fray at the edges as he felt your body responding so viscerally to his.

“Look at me”, he commanded gently, and you fixed your eyes on his.

As the intensity of your movements grew, Jensen's breath became heavier, matching the rhythm of his thrusts. He leaned closer, his lips just a whisper away from yours, his gaze never leaving your eyes. "Tell me you feel me", he murmured, each word punctuated by a deep, purposeful stroke that sent waves of pleasure coursing through you.

"I feel you", you gasped. "Every inch".

Jensen's smile was both triumphant and hungry. "Good", he replied, his voice thick with arousal. "Because every part of me is yours tonight". His hand slid from your breast down to where your bodies joined, his fingers expertly teasing, heightening the sensation that pulsed through you both.

"You're close, aren't you?", he coaxed, his movements becoming even more targeted, designed to push you over the edge. "Let go for me".

Your response was a moan, high and needy, and it seemed to drive him even more. Jensen’s thrusts quickened, his fingers moved with precision, and his eyes burned into yours, intent on witnessing every moment of your surrender.

"Come for me", Jensen commanded, his voice a seductive growl that vibrated through your core. "Show me how much you need me".

The room spun as you clung to his words, your climax building rapidly. With a few more calculated movements, you felt the dam break, waves of intense pleasure rolling over you in a relentless tide, leaving you breathless and quivering. Jensen followed close behind, his own release overtaking him as he buried his face against your neck, his body tensing, then shuddering with the force of his orgasm.

As you both caught your breath, Jensen’s kisses became softer, more tender, tracing a line along your jaw as he whispered, "Perfect, just like always". His words wrapped around you, just as his arms did, holding you in a gentle.

As Jensen's lips found your neck again, softly sucking at the tender skin, you felt every residual pulse from him—a quiet aftershock of the intensity you'd both shared. Your fingers curled into his hair, tugging gently, encouraging his gentle exploration.

He chuckled softly, the vibration against your skin sending a shiver down your spine. His body still joined with yours, he felt every subtle clench of your body around him, even as he softened.

"You're making it hard to stop", Jensen murmured, pressing a kiss to your collarbone. "Literally", he added with a mischievous grin, feeling a reactive twitch that contradicted his earlier softening.

Your laughter mingled with his, the sound light and full of warmth. "Maybe I don't want you to stop", you whispered back, playful yet sincere, drawing him in for another deep, lingering kiss.

His hips shifting slightly in a slow, teasing motion that suggested the evening was far from over. "Then we won't", Jensen said, his words a promise as his gaze locked onto yours with renewed desire and a hint of challenge. "We'll keep going as long as you can take it".

With a mischievous twinkle in your eye, you arched an eyebrow. “Can you get hard for me again?”, you teased, a smirk playing at your lips, challenging him with a tone laced with both amusement and desire.

Jensen’s eyes darkened as his pride kicked in. He gave a low, confident laugh. “You really want to test me?”, he replied, his voice a mix of amusement and arousal. He shifted again, aligning his body more closely with yours, his expression turning determined.

With a slight thrust, he repositioned himself, his hands roaming to caress the curves of your body, rekindling the fire that had barely simmered down. “Watch me”, he whispered huskily, leaning in to capture your lips in a passionate kiss that spoke volumes of his intent.

His kisses trailed down your neck, each touch lingering longer, more provocatively, as if he were painting an invisible trail with his lips. His hands were equally persuasive, stroking and teasing, building the anticipation between you.

You felt him responding to your provocations, the physical proof of his arousal growing once again. His breath caught slightly as he felt the change, a grin spreading across his face. “Looks like I’m up for the challenge”, Jensen murmured against your skin, a hint of victory in his voice.

He pressed his hips deliberately against yours, his hardness unmistakable as he made his point clear. The firm contact made you moan softly, the sound a mixture of surprise and pleasure that fueled his confidence further.

“I think that proves it”, he teased, his voice low and husky, thrilled by your reaction. He maintained the pressure, moving his hips in a slow, grinding motion that had you gasping, each movement precise and calculated to remind you of his physical capabilities.

“Does that feel good?”, Jensen asked, a rhetorical question wrapped in a growl, as he adjusted his angle to press even more insistently against you.

Your hands clung to his back, nails pressing into his skin as a way to anchor yourself against the wave of sensations he was expertly drawing out of you. “Jensen”, you managed to utter, your voice breathy and laden with desire, urging him on without needing to say much more.

Jensen’s grin grew even more knowing as he heard the breathy urgency in your voice. With deliberate intent, he reached for the headboard of the bed, gripping it tightly as his muscles tensed.

He slowly withdrew from you, each inch of separation heightening the anticipation between you. The moment he pulled back, you felt a pang of longing, an almost unbearable need for his full presence. Jensen seemed to savor the sensation of you clenching around him, your body craving the return of his depth.

Without warning, he thrust back into you, but this time it was with a single, slow, and incredibly deep movement. The depth of his penetration was thorough, stretching you to the limit and causing a gasp to escape your lips as you felt every inch of him inside you. His eyes were fixed on yours, watching the transformation of your pleasure with an intense focus.

The sensation was overwhelming, a potent mix of fullness and the slow burn of pleasure that seemed to stretch every second into an eternity. Jensen’s grip on the headboard was tight, his breathing heavy.

“Feel that?”, he murmured, his voice a low growl, both intimate and commanding.

Jensen’s slow, deep thrusts continued, each movement sending ripples of pleasure through your entire being. The depth of his penetration and the deliberate pace had you gasping and moaning breathlessly, the sensations so intense that you could barely contain them.

With every thrust, you felt him stretch you, each push hitting the very core of your pleasure. The combination of his steady rhythm and the overwhelming fullness made you clench around him, the intensity of the moment causing you to curse softly in a mix of pleasure and frustration.

“Fuck, Jensen”, you breathed out, your voice strained and desperate. Your fingers gripped the sheets tightly, knuckles whitening as you anchored yourself against the relentless waves of sensation he was drawing from you.

He kept his eyes locked on you, taking in every reaction, every shiver of your body as he continued his deliberate pace. “I want to hear you”, he urged, his voice rough with desire. “Let me know how good it feels”.

His command only intensified your moans, each sound a testament to the overwhelming pleasure he was providing. You could feel yourself getting closer to a breaking point, the pressure building with each slow, deep stroke.

Jensen seemed to sense your rising climax, his movements becoming even more controlled and calculated, ensuring that every thrust was exactly what you needed to reach the peak of your desire.

"Let me hear you", Jensen demanded, his tone insistent. "Louder".

His words were a direct challenge, stoking the fire of your arousal. With each deeper, faster thrust, you couldn't help but respond. Your moans grew louder, filling the room, a mix of pleasure and the sheer intensity of the sensations cascading through you.

Jensen's hands moved from the headboard to your hips, gripping them tightly as he adjusted the angle, aiming to deepen his thrusts even further. The new position hit just the right spot, sending sparks of pleasure zipping through your nerves. Your back arched off the bed in response, pushing against him, seeking more.

"That's it", he growled approvingly, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction at your vocal response.

The room echoed with the sound of your combined moans and the rhythmic creaking of the bed. Jensen's control was impeccable, managing to balance on the edge of his own release while focusing entirely on your experience. His every move, every sound, and every touch was designed to bring you both to a powerful climax together.

“Come on”, Jensen urged, his voice low and gritty with desire. “I want to hear you scream for me”.

You could barely manage a coherent response, your voice a breathy, desperate mix of moans and gasps. “Jensen, I’m… so close”, you managed to plead, your body arching in response to each powerful thrust.

“Good”, he growled, his voice rough as he pushed deeper. “Let go for me. Show me how much you need me”.

The pressure in your core built rapidly, each of his movements pushing you closer to the brink. The relentless pace and the intensity of his touch were overwhelming, your climax imminent.

“Tell me how bad you want it”, Jensen demanded, his voice a harsh whisper against your ear.

“I want it so fucking bad”, you cried out, your voice cracking with the force of your release.

With a final, powerful thrust, both of you reached the peak simultaneously. Jensen’s groan was deep and primal, a sound of raw satisfaction as he felt your body convulse around him. Your own climax hit with explosive force, your cries of pleasure mingling with his as you both succumbed to the overwhelming wave of ecstasy.

After the climaxes subsided, Jensen’s breathing gradually slowed, though the intensity of the moment still lingered in the room. He pulled you closer, his touch now gentle and affectionate as he began to catch his breath. His gaze was both amused and satisfied as he looked at you, a playful smirk forming on his lips.

“Funny”, Jensen murmured after a while, his voice low and teasing, “you were complaining about me being too rough earlier”. His fingers lightly traced along your damp skin, a contrast to the roughness you’d experienced moments before.

You looked at him, still catching your breath, your face flushed but smiling. “You were”, you replied, though there was no real annoyance in your tone, just the lingering thrill of pleasure.

Jensen’s smirk widened further. “Yet here you are, coming the hardest when I fuck you exactly like that”, he teased, his voice a warm rumble that seemed to vibrate directly into your heart.

The comment made your cheeks heat up even more, a deep blush spreading across your face. In a playful attempt to hide your embarrassment, you covered your face with both hands.

Jensen’s eyes softened with a mix of adoration and amusement as he watched your cheeks flush deeply. He gently took your hands away from your face, his touch tender despite the teasing nature of his words.

“That’s exactly what I adore about you”, he murmured. “You can be so innocent and still such a dirty little mess at the same time”.

Jensen noticed the subtle changes in your body as you responded to his words—your breath catching, your body tensing slightly. The faint but unmistakable clench around him drew a deeper grin, his eyes darkening with renewed desire.

“Like that, huh?”, he teased, his voice a silky whisper that made the air between you crackle. He shifted slightly, adjusting his position to maintain the delicious pressure that elicited such an honest reaction from you. “You can’t hide how much you love this, can you?”. Jensen’s tone was both cocky and warm, a combination that made his teasing all the more intoxicating.

You could only nod, your breathing heavy, as every word he spoke seemed to resonate through you, deepening your arousal. Jensen’s hands moved from your face, tracing down your neck, over your shoulders, and along the sensitive skin of your sides, his touch light but deliberate, designed to tease and provoke.

He leaned in, his lips hovering just above yours, his breath mingling with your own.

"You're something else", Jensen murmured, his lips brushing against yours with each word, barely touching yet sending shivers down your spine. His voice was a blend of wonder and desire, thick with emotion that resonated deeply within you.

His gaze held yours, intense and unyielding, as he paused to study your reaction, seeming to relish the slight quiver of your lips and the quick rise and fall of your chest. His fingers continued their exploration, now sliding down to trace the curve of your waist, coming to rest at the small of your back, pulling you closer into him, erasing any space that remained.

The closeness intensified the connection, the heat between you nearly tangible. Jensen's control was palpable, yet so was the affection and genuine admiration he held for you, making his allure almost magnetic.

"I mean it", he continued. "You captivate me like no other".

The sincerity in his voice, combined with the deliberate movements of his body, stirred a profound response within you. You felt enveloped not just by his physical presence but by the intensity of his emotions. His words, laden with affection and admiration, seemed to echo through you, heightening the intimacy of the moment.

Jensen finally closed the scant distance between your lips, sealing the words with a kiss that was both a promise and a claim—a slow, deep melding of mouths that spoke of shared desire and the unspoken acknowledgment of the bond between you.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰

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Part 23

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Taglist: @cheynovak @chriszgirl92 @jenniferr0323 @angelbabyyy99 @cevansbaby-dove @muhahaha303 @jackles010378 @suckitands33 @n-o-p-e-never @mayafatimakhan @ladysparkles78 @viviandarkbloom06 @jassackles @evasmlp @acklesaddict67 @mostlymarvelgirl @emma1998sblog @mishaesque @headinthemoon87 @hobby27 @winchesterwild78 @impala67rollingthroughtown @manicjk @kr804573 @zaratahir @djs8891 @winchesterwild78 @jamerlynn @whimsyfinny @libby99hb @deansimpalababy @deans-queen @kawaii-arfid-memes @faephoria @stoneyggirl2 @fitxgrld @luvr4miya @yikeschoices @lyssalvus @soab1967 @luvr4miya @didi0666 @impala67rollingthroughtown @cheekygirl2309

[johnathanstatue]

I messed my diaper pretty bad at the grocery store a few hours ago. It was one of those messes where you sort of know it's going to happen but not sure when. I was having the absolute worst stomach cramps and I knew something was coming. I've been getting asked to mess a diaper somewhere more public instead of a store bathroom or a dog park. And it felt right to start today. I woke up early and already had the urge so I knew this was the day. I'm pretty secretive, though. So I didn't want to wear my big Tena diapers. But I wanted to be protected enough so I didn't want to wear my little pullups that can't hold a normal pee so. I decided I'd wear a pullup under a big diaper and tie a sweater around my waist so you couldn't see the diaper bulge in the back. I was fighting not messing myself the whole time too it was so painful but I know it would be worth it. I even taped my diaper up with ducttape so there was no chance of it coming off. I was so ready to go. I ended up driving there incase something catastrophic happend. The cramps and pains surprisingly went away when I was driving there though. I was just thinking whether I should mess in the bathroom there then walk around and find stuff or if I should let loose In one of the isles. I was also thinking Maybe I should do it in self checkout. I couldn't decide. Anyways the drive was only a few minutes and I got there and I felt like I had to go but the painful urge wasn't hitting me. But man when it hit me it hit me hard. I was grabbing a frozen pizza out of the freezer and it just hit me and I had this cramp thst hurt so bad. I would have let go right then and there but the isle had a decent amount of people in it. So I pretended to bend over and look at something farther down the rack and it was nearly impossible to hold on to! I ended up saying screw this and stood up and just walked out of there. Barely holding on at all. But I pulled through and man these cramps wouldn't go away i found an isle with no one in it and it happend to be the isle with toilet paper and cleaning supplies. I knew there was no chance I was fighting these cramps this time. I just looked around, spread my legs a little and went to the classic shitting myself stance and just let go completely. It filled up so much and it was quite solid.. so I thought. It was rough. I had this massive log in my diaper then I started peeing out of my butt and it was so noisy. I straight up put down everything I was going to buy and just started walking towards the door. I got out of there quick and oh my god that was my first public mess. I'm planning on going out again it's just so much more of a rush. The cleanup wasn't anything fancy just a shitty ass in the shower but you know.. anyways thanks for listening

[watatsumiis]

The Winged Yaksha - (Xiao x gn!reader)

A little drabble I decided to do, based on the idea of if Xiao had wings in his more humanoid form!

Content: gender neutral reader x xiao (with a pre-established relationship, can be read as platonic or romantic), xiao has some funky adeptus powers and a big nest in Wangshu Inn, Xiao is kind of dismissive/withdrawn (as usual).

Word count: ~2k

The Dihua Marsh is dark and gloomy today - the tension in the air promises an oncoming storm as well as the bouts of rain that have been pouring down intermittently throughout the day. 

You pick at your food restlessly, watching people walk in and out, but none of them the person you are searching for. 

After a while, somebody finally approaches you. You recognise her as Verr Goldet, the owner of the inn. “If you’re searching for the adeptus,” she tells you, her voice a low murmur. “He prefers not to use the main entrances. Check up on the roof.” She cocks her head in the direction of the stairway leading up. 

“Ah.” You sigh out, setting your empty bowl down as you nod. “Thank you.” 

With your new destination in mind, you set off immediately. Stepping foot outside, you’re met by a strong wind - not too bad yet, but it’s easy to tell that it will only get worse as the night wears on. 

The top balcony is void of people. Seems like nobody wants to be out here on such a dreary night, when the moon is hidden behind a thick veil of clouds. You’ve seen Xiao loitering here a few times in the past, keeping a careful watch over the surrounding lands. 

You stand close to the boughs of the tree, sheltering from the wind and occasional rain. 

Luckily, it isn’t long before you hear someone join you. A noisy, clumsy fluttering, followed by the rustling of branches and the fluttering of leaves as a figure all but crashes down onto the balcony with you, grabbing ahold of the railing for balance so that it doesn’t knock you over. 

“Xiao?” You ask hesitantly, turning around as you try to pinpoint exactly where the noise came from. You see a hulking figure somewhere to your right, and take a small step back. 

“I am here.” The voice is unmistakably his, but the figure you see before you isn’t one you recognise. He seems shaggy and bulky, an imposing silhouette against the rapidly darkening sky where he sits, perched precariously on the railing.

“What’s…What happened to you?” You ask before you can stop yourself. You catch a glimmer of his amber-coloured eyes on you. 

“Ah.” With a rather violent jerk of his shoulders and a grunt of effort, the large protrusions seem to fold in on themselves, disappearing from sight entirely. “...Apologies.” Is all he says as he drops deftly onto the balcony, walking right by you without so much as a hello. 

“What was that?” Curiosity is burning inside you as you follow quickly in his footsteps. You’ve known him for long enough that you know full well he’ll disappear from any social interaction at the first given opportunity. 

“It’s…none of your concern.” He sounds a little less annoyed than he usually might when telling others to keep their noses out of his business. If you didn’t know any better, you’d probably assume he was… embarrassed? 

“You can tell me.” You reassure him kindly. Though you dislike pressuring him, it’s nigh on impossible to get him to tell you anything otherwise. 

Xiao sniffs as he turns and steps up onto the railing once more, setting one hand on a thick tree branch before stepping off and seeming to disappear entirely. 

“Wait, come back!” You’ve been waiting so long to see him that you can’t help but feel distraught at his sudden disappearance. “Xiao!” You call out, after a few moments of no response. 

The adeptus pokes his head out of a bushel of golden-brown leaves and blinks at you expectantly. “Are you coming?” He says expectantly before ducking back out of sight once more.

You learnt long ago not to even begin questioning the strange things that adepti can do. You clamber awkwardly onto the railing, holding the branch tight as you lean forward. Immediately, there’s a difference in the air - a strange kind of stillness, accompanied by that odd, fuzzy feeling that comes hand-in-hand with the magic that illuminated beasts possess. 

Your legs shake as you step out onto the thick branch, tip-toeing your way across and ducking under a large tuft of leaves. You’re pleasantly surprised to realise that Xiao seems to have set up a nest of sorts in the treetop. A rounded platform with raised edges, filled with all manners of material belongings that you’d always figured Xiao had found were beneath him. 

You reach up to brush your fingers over a delicate set of wind chimes, sending them tinkling softly in the still air as you step onto the thickly padded platform. Despite how high up you are, and how windy you know it is outside, something about this place gives you a sense of security and warmth. 

“Wow…” You murmur softly. “This is… This is so lovely, Xiao.” You say. Xiao has his back turned to you, but the way his shoulders stiffen and his pointed ears twitch up and down makes it almost painfully obvious that he has no idea how to respond. 

“You’ve decorated it so well.” You turn a circle as you look around. The roof is open to the sky, the cloud cover you’d seen outside is gone entirely, replaced by a clear view of the moon, which casts gentle beams of moonlight onto the ‘nest’ around you, dappled by the still leaves of the tightly woven branches that surround you. 

Xiao still doesn’t even look your way, but you can tell by the slight arch of his back that he’s puffing his chest out proudly. 

“How did you get all this stuff?” You know from experience that sometimes it takes a few tries to prod Xiao into a fully fledged conversation. 

He ducks his head and sets something down on what looks like a small stone shelf jutting out of the branches in front of him. “Offerings. From mortals.” His voice catches in his throat somewhere in the middle, and he won’t meet your eye.

“That’s so sweet.” You smile warmly. “Do you mind if I sit?” 

Xiao dips his chin and gestures to a corner of the nest filled with various soft things, laid out neatly upon a woven reed mat. 

You wordlessly nod in thanks and make your way over, pulling a pillow out of the strangely stacked pile to sit on. 

“Is there… a reason you’re here?” He asks, grimacing as you unbalance his secondary nest of bedding. 

“I just wanted to visit you.” You blink innocently up at him and try to manage a smile, but it’s a little hard to do when he’s staring so intently at you, as if you might disappear the moment he pulls his gaze away. 

“Visit me.” He echoes, as if utterly unfamiliar with the concept. “I see.” 

You sit in silence for a little while as he paces back and forth a few times, rearranging several things that had been hanging off of the upper branches around his nest, mostly manoeuvring them to different places, even swapping a few out for ones that had been sitting in a small wooden box beneath his shelf. 

After a while, he seems to settle down, walking over quietly and stepping into the pile of pillows in a slow, deliberate way, then sinking down until he’s crouching with his knees to his chest, pausing for a few moments before he begins to adjust his pillows and blankets, patching up the gap your current seat had left behind. 

“So, uh…” You begin hesitantly once he’s fallen still again. “What was with the…?” You make a vague gesture with your hands, trying to imitate the strange, looming shapes you had seen coming off of Xiao when he’d first landed on the balcony. 

He looks away so quickly that it almost seems like he’s dodging an attack of some sort. You watch him cross his arms over his chest, the almost down-featherlike hairs on them reflecting in the pale moonlight. “Those were…” He hesitates, then gulps, before spitting the words out like a foul taste. “My wings.” 

You stare for a few moments, utterly awestruck as you question how you never knew this before. “Wait, really?” You can't help but be a little taken aback at this newfound fact.

“Mm.” The noise isn’t particularly helpful in discerning a clear answer, but you figure that Xiao has no reason to lie to you. 

“Can… I see them?” The question is out of your mouth and hanging in the still night air before you’re able to stop it. 

“You’ve already seen them.” Xiao mutters, hunching his shoulders as he roughly pokes and prods at a blanket, using it to fill in any draughty little gaps in his nest of bedding. 

“I bet they’re gorgeous.” You sigh wistfully, trying instead for a gentler approach as you aim for what you want. It’s easy enough to tell the difference between Xiao being annoyed versus him just being bashful, and you’ve quickly deduced that he’s displaying symptoms of the latter. 

“Hmph.” Xiao puffs out an annoyed noise, turning away as he sits up a little straighter. 

It’s hard to explain the way Xiao’s wings seem to fold out of nothing and into existence, surrounding you both with large, soft feathers. The colours are a little difficult to distinguish in the dark - the moonlight makes them seem wispy and silvery, but on closer scrutiny you can make out hints of the same shades of blue-green that are in his hair, and the golden-amber of his eyes.

“Woah.” You breathe out, a little taken aback by the sheer size of his wings. They only just have enough space to unfurl fully in this nest of his, and even then his left one is almost suffocatingly close to you, curled inwards ever so slightly as if to protect you from the elements that don’t seem to be able to get into this little pocket-dimension Xiao resides in. His feathers seem a little ruffled, some even bent in places, but overall they seem well-groomed and shiny. It seems as if he takes a lot of pride in how they look. 

“They’re amazing, Xiao.” You tell him gently, a smile tugging at your lips as you realise how much trust the adeptus must have in you to be willing to show you something he seems to want to keep so private. 

You watch a few soft, downy feathers fluff up close to where his feathers meld into his shoulder blades, and one of his wing-spurs clanks against the same wind chime you touched when you walked in earlier. A soft sort of crooning noise escapes from Xiao’s throat as he opens his mouth to speak, and he clears his throat quickly to try and cover it up. “Thank you.” He says softly, making fleeting eye contact with you, only to look away the moment he spots the unadulterated admiration in your eyes. 

He straightens up where he sits, and his wings flare out for a brief moment before folding back in on themselves rapidly and disappearing once more - you can hear a few of Xiao’s belongings clanking about due to the disturbance of the air, but he doesn’t seem to care, too busy looking your way as he tries to gauge your reaction. 

You can’t help but be a little disappointed, but you can understand his shyness about them. “Thanks.” You smile at him as you catch his eye. 

He tilts his head to the side ever so slightly as his brows furrow. 

“For showing me your wings.” You specify, blinking slowly as he stares you in the face. 

“Ah… I…” he seems to fumble a bit for the correct thing to say. “You’re welcome.” He mutters finally, tearing his gaze off of you to look up towards the moon, perfectly framed by the branches surrounding you that reach up towards the stars.

Please don't repost, steal, copy or otherwise plagarise my writing! This includes posting translations to other sites.

[bawdybooster]

HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY!!!

Here's a lovely little story I comm'd from Duth Olec a while back, featuring their characters Jb and Wren going on a Hypnotic Blind Date. Perfect for Valentine's Day!

This Piece Duth commissioned from ONO-FIRE was the inspiration for this story, featuring Jb pulling Wren close in her grasp.

BINDING BLIND DATE

Wren goes on a blind date. Little do they realize their date knows them from another life, and won't let them leave this time.

CONTENT WARNING: Non-Con Hypnosis and Coils, Blind Date that kind of becomes a Kidnapping

Wren stared at their menu. They’d never stared at a menu harder in their life, even though they didn’t perceive a single word on it.

The short human sat in a busy restaurant amidst chattering patrons, hiding behind the menu, wearing a suit a size too big that still felt too snug. Tonight was the first night in years Wren had gone on a date, let alone a blind date. They felt every short hair out of place on their head like a spider telling them they weren’t good enough. As soon as their date saw them Wren was sure they would bail. They almost wanted to have the date somewhere vacant to avoid the embarrassment, but then they were nervous about meeting a blind date alone.

“Wren Huppe, I presume?”

As soon as Wren heard that rolling voice tickle their ears their heart fluttered. They remained hiding behind their menu.

“Y-Yes, I’m Wren.” They peeked out. “And you must be—gorgeous. I mean—no—yes—that is—Janan! You must be Janan.” The dazzling beauty who stood before Wren laughed.

Wren stared—tried not to stare—stared at their blind date, her figure bulging in her tight red top and hotpants. Peachy pink gloves held the muscles of her arms, as did thigh-high stockings for her long legs that looked toned enough to crush somebody. The only part of her body that didn’t look too thick for her clothes was her bare midriff. Her lips looked full enough to use as a pillow, and her bright brown eyes looked crimson against her pink hair trailing in twin tails. In comparison, Wren felt downright dumpy.

Hearts adorned Janan’s outfit: heart collar, heart armbands, heart goggles and gloves and stockings and orbs around her shoulders. Something about her overwhelming heart theme felt familiar to Wren, but so focused were they on Janan they couldn’t think of where.

“And you must be the cutest thing I’ve ever seen,” Janan said. Wren blushed as she sat across from them and leaned close.

“Th-Thank you,” Wren said, staring at the table, “but I’m not really—I mean I guess I—” Janan placed a finger to Wren’s chin and tipped their head to look at her eyes. Wren stared—they looked brighter, or darker, or just so fascinating and lovely.

“Oh, yes, you are,” Janan said. “You’re so cute I could just eat you up.”

She leaned closer and pulled her hand to draw Wren closer, who could only assume the hearts they saw were a sign of love.

“In fact,” Janan said, “why don’t we go somewhere a little more private? Public restaurants like this are so impersonal, don’t you think?”

“Uh-huh.” Wren could only mumble, mouth agape, as they stared at their date. Far away Wren’s mind wondered what was going on, but all their nervousness, concern, fear, worry, anything negative faded as Janan spun through their head.

She stood and beckoned Wren to rise, and they followed her out the restaurant, watching her hips move as she walked. Wren followed in a daze, the city falling into a rosy haze as Janan led them astray, a sweet scent of spicy perfume drawing Wren closer to her. They swore the orbs around Janan’s shoulders glowed, but nothing seemed impossible for her. She spun around on occasion so Wren could see her full body, beckoning them onward.

The city faded. Wren realized they’d entered a park and followed Janan to a corner packed with trees out of sight. She pulled Wren close and wrapped her arms around them.

“Now, this quiet little corner is much nicer than a noisy public place where we’ll be seen, isn’t it?” Janan said.

“Uhh.” Wren’s mind overloaded as Janan gripped them tight against her soft, toned body. Janan grinned.

“A quiet little empty place where no one will know what happened to you.”

Wren blinked. They looked up at her.

“What?” They were muffled as Janan pressed their head down against her breasts. Wren moaned as the gaseous perfume from Janan’s orbs swirled around them, soaking their senses with submissive passion. Her voice kneaded Wren’s mind, the words less important than the melody she strung with Wren’s thoughts.

“Oh, yes, you’re a cute little Wren, you are.” Janan petted Wren’s head. “I thought I recognized you. Of course, you wouldn’t recognize me now, and I haven’t used my old name in years, so now you may call me”—she pulled Wren’s head up to stare into her eyes, which pulsed with bright and twinkling pink and red hearts—“your love goddess Jb.”

“Love . . .” Wren mumbled as they stared into Jb’s hypnotic eyes, their mind sinking into divine molasses slowing their thoughts and transforming them into love. The park fades from their mind. The date fades from their mind. They only recognize Jb as a goddess bestowing upon them divine pleasure.

Jb’s hips expand against Wren, and they feel her legs grow wider, curvier, slithering, curling around them. Jb’s arms hold Wren tighter as her snake body wraps around them, wider and bigger than Wren’s entire body. Wren gasps as Jb squeezes them tight, but their mind is so steeped in Jb’s intoxicating hypnotic spell they only recognize it as the divine hug of a love goddess. Another squeeze and Wren smiles, all their fears and reservations about lamias dissolved away by Jb’s hypnotic love.

“You ran away from me once, long ago,” Jb said.

Wren gasped as she slipped her tail under their suit and slithered her soothing, massaging, divine scales against their skin.

“You won’t run away this time, little Wren.”

She squeezed her thick coils tighter, pressing Wren’s legs close as she grasped their hips and enveloped their chest. Wren gasped with each squeeze, breathing in more of Jb’s hypnotic perfume drowning their mind into bliss.

“I’ve caught you, mind and body, and you’ll be mine for good now.”

Jb curled her tail under Wren’s suit around their torso before she slipped it down Wren’s pants, wrapping around their hips and sliding between their legs. Wren’s gasps grew erratic, their smile wide and open as drool dripped onto Jb’s spinning coils. Their wide eyes pulsed faster in a mirror of Jb’s as her hypnotic spell gripped Wren’s mind stronger, blocking all thoughts and feelings not subservient to Jb’s divine love.

As Jb drowned Wren’s mind in her hypnotic control she gripped their body tighter and heavier, enveloping their shoulders. Wren’s body sank in her grip, the weight overwhelming them. Their legs buckled, but Jb suspended them in her coils and wiped their senses of all but her. Wren gulped as Jb’s tail squeezed their neck, pressing her cool, velvety scales closer against their skin.

They gasped as Jb continued to slink and slither her tail under their clothes, wider loops around their chest and hips and between their legs.

“Now worship your love goddess, little Wren,” Jb said. Wren gasped and sighed a moaning acquiescence.

Jb grinned. She pressed her tail tighter between Wren’s legs and pushed them up closer to her.

“My dear, this was a lovely date. Now for a kiss to seal your fate.” She pressed Wren’s lips to hers and kissed them, wrapping her honeyed tongue around Wren’s and pushing her influence down their throat until Wren was nothing but a vessel to pour her passion into.

---

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As well, you can also visit Duth's website! You can find all their regular and commissioned stories here, plus profiles of all the characters in their cast.

If you've liked this story enough that you want your own story, you should ABSOLUTELY consider commissioning Duth! You can read all about how to do it here.

[myckicade]

Thoughts on the Finale Double-Header

Because I have so many, I want to corral them into one post, instead of the fifty or sixty I could make.

I'm genuinely surprised by all of the posts concerning dislike - and even hatred - for the finale. Not calling anyone out! Everyone gets their own opinion, and I stick by that, 100%! While I feel that it could have benefitted from another episode or two, or even another week for the final episode (which was surely impossible due to the Season Opener of the NFL next Thursday night), I loved this season. I think it contains some of their best stuff yet. The inter-character growth has felt fantastic, everyone getting closer, even without openly admitting it in audible words. Every episode made me feel something positive, which was nice. (See my notes on Mayans M.C. for how I react to negative feelings... Heh...).

I'll dive into the Nandermo first, because why not? This entire season has been about hiding betrayal, which has been just delicious. Like a group of friends who uncover infidelity amongst a long-married couple, unsure of what to do, but not wanting either party to get hurt. (They knew the guilty one had it coming, but they still tried to keep things hush-hush). I loved that Nandor knew not only what would draw Guillermo out of hiding, but he knew where to find Mama de la Cruz. (Because, let's face it, he was never going to hurt the woman. Fucker nearly got staked because he was so distracted). The intensity of Nandor's forgiveness, for lack of a better term, the whole time they had that stake between them? MM. It was better than makeup sex, because it was heartfelt, and genuine, if a little raw and drowning in hurt. Nandor getting everyone together for his turning-back ceremony? Happily staking the fucking guy who turned his familiar? Knowing Guillermo wasn't ready. The glasses. The effort. The love. That is the kind of Nandermo I enjoy seeing. Would I be upset if they (eventually) got to something romantic? Of course not. But now is just... not the right time. There is so much healing to be done now. Regaining of trust. Rebuilding of bonds. A romantic relationship right now would be the equivalent of a divided couple having a baby to save their union. It wouldn't look good, and it would be a set up for utter failure.

Speaking of that damned ceremony. The fact that everyone came together to save that boy's bacon? Come on. Come on. That even Baron Afanas and Goëjlrm turned up? Even if that part was just for sake of realism, they could have easily said no. They all give a damn about Guillermo, and that was wonderful to finally see. Words are a dime a dozen. Actions are where the proof hides.

FURTHERMORE, everyone checking in on Guillermo made me so happy. The kids coming to see him. Nadja scolding him for speaking to Derek in a manner ill-befitting his station. Even if they were mostly shit at it, aside from the Guide and the Kids, they kept a close eye on him, and that warmed my heart.

"We have a babysitter at home." That made me simultaneously AWWW!!!!, and wonder whether the poor sitter was going to be alive by the time they returned. Y'all know I'm all for their domesticity, so that little snippet was just perfect for me.

While Derek got the short end of the stake, he now has what he has always wanted. Friends. Community. Somewhere to belong. It's just a terrible, ugly way to have to get it.

I want so much more for the Guide. I do. I do agree that they all collectively suck nut at being good to anyone, more than 90% of the time, but that chick was well within her mind to pull her stunts at the Manor. I really do wish we could have had a twelve-episode season, at the very least. Both of last night's episodes deserved to be two-parters. Mm.

Good on Nadja, too, turning the noisy neighbors into an opportunity. She's an enterprising, resourceful broad, that one. Just love her. <3.

I'm still fucking floored, by the way. If someone had asked Nandor from the fucking beginning, this whole season could have been avoided. Granted, yes, that was the point, but it deserves the spotlight for a moment or two. He's such a dumbass, but he knows his vampiric shit. And really, so much good came out of everyone else being dopey as shit for a change. Guillermo learned a valuable lesson. New little lives were created. (R.I.P. to the one those that were ended). The secret surely broke up the monotony for the household for a little while. And, of course, my personal favourite... There are new parents in New Jersey! I'm so giddy for that one!

Liked it or hated it, one thing is for sure. Season Six is going to bring so much inner conflict for Guillermo, and a change of dynamic amongst the household, that I just can't wait!

[yuriko-mukami]

Maniac 04

Yuriko’s Story

⚠️ This chapter has content that is not suitable for minors or people who are uncomfortable with abusive and toxic relationship behavior. Avoiding reading for your own good if you are either. ⚠️

Maniac 04

Yuriko had been doodling in her notebook during classes for the whole evening. It was also difficult to focus on the subject at hand; lately, her mind had been more of a whirlpool than ever before. Finding her mother’s diary opened a whole new side of her history and finally confirmed the existence of Yuuto. Not to mention the blood magic that explained why Yuriko wasn’t showing any signs of being a kitsune.

It was difficult to decide what to think or feel about the whole thing. While Yuriko’s thoughts kept whirling, she still felt numb like she wasn’t connected to her mother and her deeds in any way. Like everything was just a tale in a novel, a story she had read and then moved on to other matters.

Except it seemed impossible to move on.

Nibbling her bottom lip, Yuriko kept doodling. The teacher’s words ran past her ears. For a moment she had hoped she could be something special. Then all her struggles in life hadn’t been for nothing, and she would have been more equal to Ruki. While her father had kept calling her monster, she had remained a regular human being, with no sign of kitsune in her, perhaps aside from her blood, since, according to Ruki, it had an intoxicating taste. Though Yuriko wasn’t quite sure if that was the case with any blood when it came to the vampires. Was kitsune blood anything special compared to human blood?

And why did it even matter? Yuriko sighed. She should focus on finding the gate her mother had mentioned in the diary. Yuuto had spoken about it too, but there weren’t any notes about where it actually was.

The shrine is almost non-existing, hidden well, and only the ones with kitsune blood can open the gate.

The words echoed in Yuriko’s mind. A shrine and kitsune blood. She had the latter but didn’t know where the place was. Her mother had mentioned traveling through the forest when she had come to Kaminashi City for the first time, so that could be a clue.

I wonder if Dad missed that part… 

Yuriko’s gaze traveled through the classroom full of people focused on the subject at hand. Pencils scratched against the notebooks, book pages were turned, and every so often, someone couched. Everything in the classroom was normal like nothing had happened, yet Yuriko’s life seemed to turn upside down. And as if that wasn’t enough, Ruki had suddenly left somewhere. He had only mentioned that he needed to meet someone very important and while he was away Yuriko was to stay in the care of his brothers at all times.

Shaking her head slightly, Yuriko continued doodling. She didn’t mind being with the brothers around the house but at school that was a bit uncomfortable; it hadn’t taken long for others to notice that the Mukamis didn’t suddenly leave her alone. The most worrying thing was the glares from Kou’s fans who seemed to be as fanatic as any idol’s stans could be, and Yuriko surely didn’t want to cross with them. It would be the same kind of disaster as in her previous school, though the reason would be different this time. Nevertheless, she wished to stay under the radar and concentrate on her own matters.

When the lunch break arrived, Yuriko took out a lunch box from her school bag and put it on her desk. The salad, omelet roll, and rice made a perfect combination, yet it was difficult to enjoy the meal in a classroom full of noisy people. Usually, Ruki took her to somewhere less crowded for lunch, and even now and then he had let her eat with Elizabeth – though Yuriko was pretty sure he had been keeping an eye on them both during those times.

But there was no way Yuriko would want all the other Mukamis to have lunch with her and Elizabeth, risking the zombie girl getting in trouble with Kou’s fans. So, she pulled out the Sarashina Diary and read it while eating. They would have to finish their school project with Ruki soon anyway so she decided it would be wise to go through the book again.

Absorbed in the hidden beauty of poetry and the daily life of a Heian Period girl, Yuriko was finally able to relax a bit. The lunch disappeared as the words carried her to the past. But soon her bubble was burst by the voice that sailed into her ear.

“Hey, M-kitsune-chan~ Come here and spend time with me since you’ve already eaten.” 

The blond vampire clapped an empty chair beside him and smiled at her most charmingly. Unfortunately, Yuriko wasn’t the only one who noticed that; several heads turned first in Kou’s direction and then the eyes pierced Yuriko with hostile curiosity she recognized all too well. Hastily, she shook her head.

“Umh, I’m sorry, Kou-kun, but I think… I mean… I have something else I need to do…”

“No, no, M-kitsune-chan. Ruki-kun said directly that you should hang with me tonight~”

“Hah!? Ruki said Vixen is supposed to be with us all, not just with you, Kou!”

“Yes… we should… all take care of… Yuriko-san…”

Twitching in her seat, Yuriko's gaze jumped from one brother to another. They all seemed a bit too eager to hang with her. She understood it was important to Ruki, but still, she could have used the rest of the lunch break chatting with Elizabeth. It was just… It still didn’t seem a good idea to drag all the Mukami brothers with her.

“Actually, I need to go to the bathroom, so…”

Yuriko stood up, fixing her skirt. While she did so, all three brothers were instantly on their feet, not caring about their classmates who were still having their lunch and glancing at all of them. The whole situation must look very weird.

“Umh… it's the girls' bathroom so…”

“We’re gonna wait for ya outside, Vixen,” Yuma stated.

“I don’t think you all need to come. You know, it would look bad if you all just stood there…” Yuriko said, pondering how she should play this out. Her eyes met Azusa’s, a sudden realization budding in her mind. “I think… it’s enough if Azusa-kun comes with me.”

I’m already sorry. But I really want to see Eli-chan…

It was clear to see that neither Yuma nor Kou liked the suggestion but Azusa gave Yuriko a warm smile that clenched her heart as they walked out of the classroom. She slipped into the girls’ bathroom, thinking about how she would be able to escape Azusa and sneak to check if Elizabeth was in her classroom eating lunch.

The opportunity came in an odd way. Just a minute later, two girls walked in, and when they opened the door, Yuriko couldn’t help but hear Azusa speaking in the corridor.

“That’s right… Justin…”

Who’s Justin?

Yuriko peeked into the hallway, seeing Azusa absorbed in a conversation with no one other than himself. Noticing that was somewhat worrying, and in another situation, Yuriko might have asked about it, but right now, her mind was wandering elsewhere. Very quietly she sneaked out and tiptoed toward the first-year student’s hallway. A couple of minutes later, she was already in Elizabeth’s classroom, but the zombie girl was nowhere to see.

Disappointed, Yuriko turned around only to notice three girls approaching her. All of them used much more makeup than her, looking both stunning and intimidating at the same time. All of them Yuriko had seen hanging around Kou many times. And all of them had been glaring daggers at her for the whole evening in the classroom.

Oh gosh, no!

The girls were blocking the way back to their classroom. After some wild pondering, Yuriko turned tails and hurried towards the library. Giggles and steps followed her along with a rather unpleasant mix of three different perfumes. 

To Yuriko’s distress, the library was as silent as ever. For once, she hoped there had been someone, anyone. Almost. A little breathless, she rushed between the shelves further in the space until suddenly she noticed a male standing in front of a window, staring into the night.

“Umh… Shin?”

The last meeting with the Founder hadn't gone too well, but right now, he offered a tiny sparkle of hope for Yuriko. She heard how steps behind her stopped. So, maybe the girls would leave if she kept talking to Shin, who turned around, glaring at her as if he wanted to remind her of their latest encounter. Yuriko flinched but didn’t back down. Maybe it was stupid but she was more scared of the girls than the Founder.

“I really… umh… am sorry about the last time,” she mumbled. “I hope we can… put that behind us.”

“What makes you interested in me? We have no connection other than that one incident. Aren’t you Ruki’s little obedient prey?”

“Umh… I wouldn’t… use those words…”

Shifting in places, Yuriko tried to gather her thoughts. While she was at it she listened to the sounds of the library. Hushed voices were discussing; Yuriko couldn’t make out the words but she got the tone. The girls were unsure how to proceed now.

“Did you make a deal with him then? Kitsune blood for… what? Protection?”

“I…”

Hastily, Yuriko gazed around. The situation was bad enough already, the girls shouldn't hear them.

"They are leaving," Shin said as if he knew what was happening. Yuriko nodded and swallowed. 

“I live with him,” she whispered the secret she had yet to tell Elizabeth. “He is my… boyfriend.” The word boyfriend made Yuriko remember something now that the imminent danger had passed. A tiny smile rose on her lips. While she knew it wasn’t any of her business, she couldn’t help but think how happy Elizabeth would be if things would take a turn in the right direction. “Umh… Shin. You know the girl I was with the last time?”

“Yes. Elizabeth, the stalker, Virnien.”

Stepping closer, Yuriko smiled again. She nodded slowly, wanting to show Shin that she hadn’t anything bad in her mind. She simply wanted to help her friend a bit.

“Her methods… umh… I guess they can be somewhat peculiar, but she means well, I’m sure.” Now the smile on Yuriko’s face spread wider. “She is so friendly and sweet; she truly is amazing. Maybe you’ll realize that someday. You should give her a chance~ Or even ask her out, you know? I bet she would love that.”

Oh my gosh! Now I said too much!

Heat covered Yuriko’s face as she realized she had been blabbering to Shin, who didn’t seem even a bit interested in her thoughts. If anything, there was a slight annoyance lingering around him.

“Why is there always nonsense when you appear in front of me, Yuriko? What do you care about this or anything else?”

“Eh…? I just want to be friendly… and get along with everyone. Also, help Eli-chan, because she has helped me a lot.”

“So, you are a simple idiot. No wonder Ruki was able to capture you. Your stupidity explains a lot.”

With that, Shin rushed past Yuriko and left her standing alone in the library.

I said something wrong… right?

Of course, there wasn’t an answer. Yuriko sighed, leaning her back against a bookshelf. At least the library was now hers alone; she could stay here until the time for the last class would come. The silence was music to her ears after noisy hallways full of students, and the pleasant scent of books embraced her as gently as ever. Or would have… but just in that very moment, a sappy fragrance sailed into her nose.

“So, you want to get along with everyone, Little Bitch~”

Yuriko almost jumped as the high-pitched voice reached her ears. She straightened up and glanced around, not seeing anyone. Yet cold shivers ran down her body. And just when she was about to run from the library, the emerald eyes appeared in front of her. Hands landed on each side of her head. The male leaned in, sniffing the air around her.

“Your scent has changed. Ruki-kun has made you his, fufu~ This makes everything even more fun~”

Yuriko lifted her hands, pressing them against Sakamaki boy's shoulders. She pushed with all her might, yet the pureblooded vampire didn't flinch. The green, gleaming eyes came closer and closer, thin lips opening and revealing a sharp pair of fangs.

"I wonder what you taste like now… Too bad I couldn’t have a sip earlier, nfu~"

"You can't have it now either! I… I… belong to Ruki. He is the only one who… who can bite me!"

Yuriko lifted her leg, stomping it down directly to Laito’s toes, but not even that made him back down. He simply laughed at her, inching his face towards her neck.

"I'm going to take a long and slow sip of your blood, Little Bitch~ Moan all you want, make noises for me, fufu. Let me hear how you cry for Ruki-kun~"

As tears rose to her eyes, Yuriko kept pushing the Sakamaki boy away. Yet she couldn’t help the closing fangs or the tongue that slid along her neck. A high-pitched moan reached her ears, and he pressed forward. The smell of sappy cologne dulled Yuriko’s senses, making her head spin and her stomach turn. A hard hand left the shelf and grabbed her waist, forcing her hips against his. Even through her skirt, she could feel how much the Sakamaki was enjoying her presence. She started to squirm and hit his shoulders over and over again, wishing him to disappear from the surface of the Earth.

“Come on, Little Bitch, moan and cry a bit, fufu~”

"No… please, don’t do this…"

“Oi! Hands off on Ruki’s prey!”

The Sakamaki boy’s grasp released Yuriko. He flew across the corridor. With a thud, a book fell off the bookshelf. 

Then another.

And another.

More.

Yuriko’s legs gave up, and she glided down, trembling all over. Why? Why did the Sakamaki boy always come after her?

“Yuriko-san… I am sorry…”

“Not nice, M-kitsune-chan, leaving Azusa-kun like that. Ruki-kun isn’t going to like this when he hears that you disobeyed him.”

“I… I… I… just wanted to see… Eli-chan…”

A low growl and loud cursing drowned Yuriko’s shaking voice. 

A curtain of tears almost blinded Yuriko. Still, she saw it. Yuma and the Sakamaki boy. At each other’s throat.

All because of Yuriko.

Because she had sneaked away.

So stupid… a huge mistake.

Azusa reached out, and Yuriko took his hand, letting him pull her up, but her eyes couldn’t leave the scene as Yuma was trying to hold back the Sakamaki boy.

“I… I… am sorry. I didn’t mean to cause any harm…”

“We should go home. Yuma-kun, let’s leave.”

“I’m just gonna give this spoiled brat a bit of what he deserves!”

“We… need to… take care of… Yuriko-san…”

“Azusa-kun is right, Yuma-kun. He’ll teleport M-kitsune-chan to the limousine while I’ll get our stuff. You should leave the jerk to be.”

If Yuma objected, Yuriko didn’t hear that anymore. The world around her twitched and whirled, turning her stomach upside down. It forced her to cling to Azusa until her back met the soft seat of the limousine. She yelped and released her grasp, whimpering against the seat, as Kou and Yuma appeared in the car as well. Kou dropped all the school bags on the floor and slid into a sitting position along with Yuma who still radiated angriness. 

Yuriko nibbled her bottom lip, feeling the unwanted touch on her skin. She remembered perfectly well what had happened after the last time Sakamaki Laito had attacked her. Shaking her head, she tried to push disturbing thoughts away. She should focus on the diary and figuring out things with Yuuto. This evening had been simply a series of misfortunes.

“Damn those aristocrat bastards! We should punch the air out of ‘em!”

Yuma’s yelling made Yuriko flinch. She blinked, staring at the ceiling of the limousine. She had caused such a problem only because she had wanted to see her friend…

Suddenly, Kou leaned in. Yuriko turned her head to meet the light blue, curious eyes. The right one was covered with Kou’s blond hair, yet she was sure she saw a quick red glimmer. What on Earth —?

“You reek of a Founder too, M-kitsune-chan.” There wasn’t a hint of joking in Kou’s voice. “Ruki-kun won’t like that either. What were you doing in that library?”

“Umh… Shin just happened to be there when I entered…” …and he kind of saved me from your fans but I can’t tell you that… Yuriko swallowed. “My friend, Eli-chan… umh… likes him… so… We talked briefly. Nothing happened. I’m not interested in him…”

“Then why is your heart jumping like this?”

Because you intimidate me…

Yuriko let her gaze sink toward the floor. She couldn’t explain anything. It was not like she was interested in Shin, but she was worried because she had seen him in such a bad state weeks ago. Yet that wasn’t her secret to tell, and she probably had already said too much about Elizabeth.

Before Kou had time to interrogate her more, the limousine reached the Mukami manor. Yuriko grabbed her bag and hurried out of the car. She was almost sure someone would try to stop her, but the brothers let her step out without saying anything.

“Welcome home, Yuriko.” The icy voice made Yuriko stop right then and there. First, her gaze met the shoes, and as she slowly lifted her face, she saw that Ruki wore his home clothes, staring at her with stern and angry eyes. 

Cold fingers grabbed Yuriko’s wrist. Ruki pulled her along him. Inside. To upstairs. 

Into his bedroom. 

Out of breath, Yuriko let her school bag slip from her fingers. The memories of cold water washed over her. 

“Umh… Ruki…”

“Kou texted me and told me about your foolishness, Livestock.”

With a swift pull, Ruki hauled Yuriko against his chest. The bridge of his nose curled slightly.

“That Sakamaki Laito and Tsukinami Shin too. You dared to run to them the first day I was not there.”

“But… but… I didn’t…!”

“I can smell them both on your skin. I must wash away any traces of them.”

Not again…

But before Yuriko could even say anything, the air whirled around them. The squeezing feeling ran through her, and they were in the bathroom. Ruki shoved her toward the shower, grabbing the showerhead in his hand.

“Ruki, please…”

"How many times do I have to tell you to stay away from those filthy dogs? You are such troublesome livestock. Haah... It seems I have to repeat your training. Disobedient livestock has to learn its place. Do not ever dare to defy your master's command again. Understood?"

“I’m not livestock, I’m a human being!” 

This was too much. Yuriko had done nothing wrong.

“Right now, you are nothing but livestock.” Ruki’s voice was as cold as the freezing water.

Yuriko gasped. Her cardigan turned heavy. Dress shirt glued on her skin; skirt on her thighs. 

Soaked. Completely soaked.

With ice-cold water.

“I will wash any traces they have left on you, and after that, I will make sure you will remember who your one and only master is.”

Yuriko wheezed and shivered, trying to dodge the icy water. It splashed around her from the wall of the bathroom, covering her glasses with tiny dots that made it difficult to see around.

Stuttering, Yuriko tried to push past Ruki. He grabbed her arm, shoving her back to the corner.

“I… I… I only wanted to see… Eli-chan!” Yuriko’s quivering voice echoed from the tile walls, mixing with the sound of the shower. She tried to explain her reasoning, but water drowned her voice while her curls ran on her face, and damp clothes made her feel colder than ever. 

Yuriko slid down on her knees on the floor, covering her head with her hands as hot tears burst out. 

The only warmth she had right now. 

“Ruki… please… stop… I can’t… It’s too much! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Please, I beg you!”

Shaking all over, Yuriko whimpered and whined. Coldness sank through her skin, deep within her muscles as the water kept pouring over her.

"I was going to go back but Kou-kun's fans…!" Sobbing, Yuriko tried to gaze up. The water hit her face, and she couldn’t see anything. With trembling fingers, she reached for Ruki, until she met his pants and curled her digits around the fabric. "Please… I'm sorry… I didn’t mean to cause any harm…"

Suddenly, the water stopped. 

Silence in the bathroom was almost painful. 

Ruki stepped past Yuriko, forcing her to release her grip by simply moving. He put the showerhead back into its place and crouched next to her. "Can you not see that you caused all this to yourself? You forced your master to purge you by seeking the company of those two. I cannot leave you for a single moment if you are like this."

Yanking Yuriko more upwards, Ruki shoved her cardigan down her shoulders. The loosely tied ribbon went flying, and so did the buttons of her shirt as he tore it open. 

Yuriko’s skin was so numb from the water that the touch of Ruki’s fingers didn't feel cold anymore as he pushed aside the strap of her bra, tearing the lace as he removed every single piece of clothing from her upper body. 

Before Yuriko realized it, Ruki had even torn away her glasses. Not that it made the situation any worse since she hadn’t been able to see through them anyway.

Without a warning, Ruki pierced Yuriko’s neck. 

Note: CG edit made by @cutelih. The uncensored version will be released in the pdf version of the story.

The grunting sound vibrated on Yuriko’s skin. Sobs turned into cries. 

Harsh sucks. Blinding pain. 

"Ngh… Never forget who your master is."

"I… I… don’t … Oh my gosh, Ruki! You're hurting me!" 

Yuriko pressed her palms against Ruki’s shoulders, but the strength had already left her. All she could do was whimper in his grasp as rough blood-sucking turned slowly into softer lapping. 

Ruki’s tongue slid over the fresh bite mark, sealing it yet not completely healing it. Judging by the intensity, Yuriko was sure that her skin would have blue shades around the bite when she would wake up in the morning.

“You drive me crazy, Yuriko. I cannot let them have you…”

“Nobody else is going to have me… Ruki… I simply… I simply wanted to see Eli-chan, but things happened…”

But did Ruki even listen to her? Yuriko had no idea. 

Ruki stood up, pulling the girl onto her shaking legs by her arm. The remains of her clothes dripped water on the tile floor as she shivered in front of him. Without words, Ruki yanked the skirt down and the rest soon followed, forming a pile between them.

As she stood naked in the middle of the bathroom, Yuriko wrapped her arms around her body. Not to hide, for Ruki had already seen her, but trying to gather a little warmth. Ruki took her arm again, pressed her against his cold body, and once more, air whirled around them. When he released his grip, Yuriko stumbled into her own room. 

Roaming to the closet, Yuriko started to dress up in the warmest clothes she had, shudders running all over her body and covering her skin with tiny bumps. She pulled on shorts, for once wishing she would have more pants, but even her running leggings were probably still at her former home. It was impossible to avoid quivering as she zipped her hoodie all the way to her neck and put on the thigh-high socks she usually wore when the weather was colder. Still, it felt like the coldness had rooted deep into her bones.

The second Yuriko stopped dressing up, Ruki grabbed her arm again and dragged her out to the hallway and into his room. The door slammed shut behind them. Yuriko turned around to face Ruki but couldn’t find any kind of emotion on his face.

“You are not to leave my room unless I give you permission to do so.”

“But Ruki… I need to go to school… My grades… I can’t fail again…” Even if Keisuke wouldn’t care anymore about Yuriko’s education, she still wanted to finish high school and move forward with her life. But if Ruki didn’t allow her to go to school, she would be doomed to fail once more.

“Perhaps that is something you should have considered before you decided to disobey.” Ruki’s words lingered between them in the otherwise silent room. 

Blinking, Yuriko could barely hold back the tears that burned in the corners of her eyes. Yet a tiny sob escaped. 

“Haa… I will make sure that you do not fail your studies, but for now, you will stay here. I cannot allow other men to even look at you.” With that, Ruki was gone from the room, and only silence remained as Yuriko climbed to his bed and covered her still shaking body with the blanket.

Thanks: To @elizabeth-virnien who helped me with Yuma and Shin, @best-mukami for the help with Kou, and @ruki-mukami-dl for the help with Ruki. You are awesome!

[7r0773r]

My Rock'n'Roll Friend by Tracey Thorn

And suddenly there is Lindy, who is unlike the English girls I have met, who is older than me, who talks and listens and shouts and smokes and shakes me out of my stupidity. As much as I'm drawn to her outrageousness and loudness, I'm drawn to her positivity. She is constantly upbeat, which is also in my nature. We are both full of a curious, almost gauche enthusiasm about the world. We are cheerer-uppers, bounce-backers, irrepressible, determined — me in a quiet way, her in a noisy way.

Within the world of The Go-Betweens she finds Robert and Grant endlessly depressing, describing them in an interview as 'the most boring and sad people ... That's why they write the most boring and sad songs. They're moody and sad. That's our day-to-day existence and it comes out in our songs.'

She understands and appreciates the beauty that also comes out in the songs, but living and working with their introspection and angst is draining, exasperating, she thinks it is very self-indulgent boy behaviour. A woman wouldn't get away with it. A woman has to try harder socially. Has to placate, keep things running smoothly, not make unnecessary demands. There is no room for her bad moods, which will be called hormonal. Men experience existential despair while women have periods. Lindy and I both take the view that you can be existential some of the time, while also concentrating on having the time of your life. When The Smiths' The Queen Is Dead album comes out, Robert listens incessantly to 'I Know It's Over', and Lindy hears those dismal lyrics about soil falling over someone's head all day long until she is driven mad by it. In defiance, she puts on at full volume 'Shout to the Top' by The Style Council. (pp. 113-14)

***

I start questioning how relationships work, how they can survive so long. When I find a diary from 1988 I realise I have thought about these things for a long time. This is what I wrote, thirty years ago, and once again, Lindy is part of it.

Monday, 4 January 1988

I'm reading Simone de Beauvoir's The Prime of Life, the second part of her autobiography, which Lindy gave me. It's very interesting to read about her relationship with Sartre — at one point she says that they decided to sign a two-year lease:

'I could arrange to live in Paris during these two years, and we would spend them in the closest possible intimacy. Afterwards, Sartre suggested, I ought to take a job abroad too. We would live apart for two or three years, and then rejoin one another somewhere — Athens, maybe — where we could, for a longer or shorter period, live more or less together. We could never become strangers to one another, and neither would appeal for the other's help in vain; nothing would prevail against this alliance of ours. But it must not be allowed to degenerate into mere duty or habit; we had at all costs to preserve it from decay of this sort.'

Is that what I had wanted for myself? Could it have worked? It's a fantasy, isn't it? A crazy dream, a mad idea of how love can be, almost certainly impossible. Definitely idealistic, and romantic in its own way. But did I want to try? I don't remember.

I feel a strong need for solitude and independence, a reaction to the child-rearing years. All that self-sacrifice, all that self-effacement. The children have been at the centre of my life, but who, or what, should it be now?

I feel claustrophobic, and at the same time I have lost the ability to compromise. I am less malleable. My clay has set hard, and I have become more myself, or a new version of myself, one with sharper edges. But I don't like these feelings, and I fear that indulging them will lead only to loneliness. Is the choice between being lonely or annoyed? Do I want comfort or excitement? The uncertainty churns, until all I am aware of is an unspecified rage.

I talk to other women friends who report feeling the same. Now that we are no longer just mothers, who are we? What is our role? Who needs us now? And what do WE need? Or want?

I keep noting down quotes that speak to me.

From Agnès Varda: 'In all women there is something in revolt that is not expressed.'

From Anita Brookner: 'I feel quite deeply, I think. If I am not very careful, I shall grow into the most awful old battle-axe.'

The uncertainty feels like it is connected with my age, and yet reminds me more than anything of my adolescence and young adulthood. It is like an uncomfortable return to youth, with all of its vexing questions about how to become a person, a whole person, the person you most want to be. Or the person you have to be.

I turn these thoughts upon myself, cursing my indecision, my passivity. I read Kim Addonizio's poem 'Good Girl', and I think it is talking about me.

Look at you, sitting there being good. After two years you're still dying for a cigarette. And not drinking on weekdays, who thought that one up? ... don't you want to mess it all up, to roll around like a dog in his flower beds? Aren't you a dog anyway, always groveling for love and begging to be petted?

Late at night, when I've had drinks, I feel loose and like my wheels are coming off, and I'm not sure if it's a good or a bad thing. I go out in the evening, dressed up, talking, getting drunk, dancing, feeling a bit wild and young, feeling alive. I miss euphoria, and am euphoric when I find it again. I have to ration myself, and not do it too often. It's an escape, not a solution.

I see planes overhead and I want to get on them.

In the midst of feeling like this, I book a flight to Australia. What better test of our boat than to swim away from it as far as possible and see if it pulls me back. (pp. 195-98)

[not-bcring]

Though it was particularly normal for Nicky to be scarce come time for the Frozen Four, the star hockey player near killing himself with the overwhelming need to skate drills and suicides, practice his puck handling, and meticulously go over every part of his playbook with a fine toothed comb, he somehow managed to disappear somewhere in the mid afternoon. The rink, his room, the cafeteria, they were all void of the large man, and only Kichiro and maybe Fuyuhiko would be able to know exactly where he was.

Hiding under the covers in the smaller man's room, it was the only place Nicky felt safe, which perhaps was odd given the amount of dead things he was currently surrounded by, the rink and his room reminding him too much of expectations, and the cafeteria being far too noisy to even think about fueling his already haggard body. It was rather easy to see that he was shaking, given the size of the lump he made under the blankets, Nick not even reacting when he heard the door open and close where his back was too it. //the pressure gets to him sometimes 😔

-  ✩   「 @from-across-the-stars 」   ✩  

「 ☆ 」   It’s odd being an Ultimate… Most people have the assumption that it’s an inherent trait rather than a skill. That people were born to do whatever specific thing they’re acclaimed for. Which is true for some. Kichiro has heard about Ultimates who succeed as effortlessly as breathing. As if it’s impossible for them to fail even if they tried. A purpose imbedded deep within the very fiber of who they are. It’s impressive to say the least. Frightening, to say the most. Kichiro can just imagine how terrifying it must be for those cursed with such stringent reason. To feel as if you were created for a singular task… Far too many Ultimates wonder what’s left of them if that task is taken away.

Sometimes, Kichiro does wonder if they would be considered one of those unlucky people. Taxidermy is not without its obstacles and they definitely didn’t start out inherently knowing how to do it. Yet, it never felt like learning a skill. More like learning the steps needed to make what they already felt they could. True, they’ve gotten better with time and practice. It’s only natural. But Kichiro can’t recall making anything they’d consider shoddy work. So, does it really count as working towards something if the struggle isn’t apparent? When their hands move with unearned certainty, are their creations the fruits of their labor… or merely them breathing?

Kichiro supposes it doesn’t matter how much they deserve the opportunities they’ve been given. Only that they make the most of it… and remember that they are still MORE than it.

Stepping into their room, food precariously balanced in their arms, door is closed with a soft click as if not to startle the lump under their blanket. Setting the sustenance down onto their desk, scooting over the pieces of their newest project, concerned gaze turns to their boyfriend’s shaking form. It hadn’t been hard to guess where Nicky was taking refuge. Kichiro had tried to prepare themselves for whatever could be waiting for them. As much as they wished it was them reading into things too much, Nicky hadn’t seemed to be doing too great lately. It still hurts though, seeing him like this.

Sitting down beside the boyfriend-sized lump, they rest a hand atop it, quietly saying,  ❝  Hey, hon…  ❞  Not wanting to intrude on Nicky’s hiding place unless wanted, Kichiro drapes their body across Nicky’s back as if they’re a weighted blanket giving him a hug. A bit unorthodox, but they don’t question their instincts. Not when it comes to Nicky, anyway.  ❝  I brought food in case you were hungry. I made sure it was something that could sit out for a while, so you can take as long as you need.  ❞  Making Nicky feel rushed isn’t going to help anything.

Breathing calm as their words, Kichiro manages to radiate an aura of calm despite their internal worry. Glancing where they guess Nicky’s head should be, they ask,  ❝  … Can I join you under the blanket?  ❞     「 ☆ 」

[princessscarlettli]

Chronicles of two days without electricity, water, heating and communication after russia bombarded my country again.

09.03.23

10.00

I woke up with the feeling that I somehow slept too long. grandma says that there was shelling, blackout again.I drank a sleeping pill last night, slept soundly and did not hear any explosions.

the first wave of panic, there is no connection, I don't know if everything is okay with my friends

it's nothing, by evening it will be light as usual

10.30

I brush my teeth, wash myself, we have supplies of technical water. I prepare a simple breakfast so as not to dirty a lot of dishes.

12.00

the house cools down, it gets colder, I put on a second sweater and cover myself with a blanket. reading a book.

14.00

go to a store that runs on a generator, buy food to prepare dinner. we discuss with the neighbors exactly where the bombs fell.

17.00

it is already dark outside, i took out a lamp, grandmother lit candles. there is still no connection, the phone serves as a flashlight.

17.30

finished the book, tried to start reading another one, it didn't work.

18.00

I've had some instant noodles that didn't taste good and it was disgusting.

20.00

the lamp is almost discharged, it is impossible to read with such lighting. editing fan fiction while the laptop is still charged.

21.00

a strong panic attack, I drink a sedative pill.

wash with wet wipes, hug the cat and try to sleep.

10.03.23

9.00

there is still no light. We took all the food out into the hallway on the first floor of the house so it wouldn't spoil, even though it's warm today

10.00

we went to my old school, there are generators and you can charge phones and laptops. there are many people, but two free sockets were found.

11.00

we were told to come back in two hours when they would charge the generators.

Grandma is cooking dinner, I'm going to the store for wet wipes.

13.00

the second time I went to school alone, took a free seat in the corner at the table. it's cozy here, I'm writing fanfic. I charge all phones, a lamp and a laptop in turn.

13.15

a bomb flew over us, people no longer pay attention. I don't care after the pills either

17.00

school became too noisy and I went home. we use candles, we save on the lamp, now we have one for three (and a cat)

17.45

grandfather lit the stove, we quarreled, it is not very cold in the house, but the heat of the stove spoils the food

18.00

technical water has run out, we wash the dishes with bottled water. tomorrow I will collect more water to wash my head.

20.00

water in a cup again to brush my teeth, wet wipes, I want to shower so much.

22.00

a sleeping pill and I fall asleep. there is no hope of getting light in the coming days

.unknown time somewhere at night.

I woke up from someone walking around my room. I thought that someone was looking for the lamp I had left.

there was too much noise, I asked something. grandmother answered that the light appeared, she took my phone to charge it.

I did not believe that the light would remain until the morning, so I fell asleep again

11.03.23

7.00

the alarm clock rang, I have to go get water.

7.05

I heard that the TV was on in the next room. finally.

8.30

a hot shower seems like heaven on earth

[1kook]

crunchyroll & rail

the 10th installment of my netflix & chill series !

SUMMARY Never mind the fact you really like Sailor Moon, or that you really want to pay attention to every little detail; the moment becomes Jungkook and his big smile and his red cheeks and the tiny box he produces from within his pocket. WARNINGS smut in the forms of making out, jk nipple play, some 69 action, cunnilingus, blowjobs, brief choking, jk trying his best to listen to oc but he doesn’t rlly :/, fingering, missionary bc his eyes are pretty, unprotected fuckin raw, its romantic but when is it not… MISC fluffy and domestic <3, weekend getaway <3, the Big Question, shy jk, sailor moon supremacy, jk makes this big elaborate speech about the sun and moon, mentions of 240p YouTube quality, RATING m (18+) WC 8.7k

NOTE (!) the smut in this chapter is relatively short ! I was more concerned with writing this monumental step in their relationship, so sorry to all the lads who come here specifically for the p0rn but today we focus on the l0ve <333 anyway nc 10!!!!! Can u fuckin believe….

Jungkook mentions it at the dinner table one night. You’re not eating— well, you are not eating; Jungkook has been stocking up on his protein intake like a madman —but finishing up some work you had brought home. Your back aches, your eyes burn. The mere sound of his soft voice has all those feel-good endorphins shooting through your nervous system like a shot of adrenaline. “We should take a trip,” he says, fork clattering against his plate to signify the end of his feast. 

Your fingers tap across your keyboard, eyes flickering between an Excel sheet and the report you’re typing out. It takes you a moment to respond, a delayed, “huh,” that even Jungkook doesn’t find convincing.  

In the background, you’re listening to what has to be one of the worst voiceovers of the original Sailor Moon series in a language you don’t even understand. But you know the series like the back of your hand, know what exactly is happening even if you don’t understand what they’re saying, because you’ve watched it only about a million times. It’s mostly just there for background purposes anyway, some white noise to try and replicate the noisy soundtrack of your office. 

To make matters worse—complicated?—, you had been too lazy to get onto your usual pirating sites and had settled for the five minute, five part, 240p clips of Sailor Moon on YouTube (you know the ones), and Jungkook has to wait until Episode 74: Part ⅖ ends before you grace him with a proper response. “Where do you wanna go, baby?” you ask, giving your eyes a break from the data as you move to scour YouTube for Episode 74: Part 3/5. 

He’s stretching back now, arms wound up above his head. His hair— god, his hair —is an ashy color now, a faded version of its golden ancestor from a few months ago. Soon, he’s planning on going back to brown, claims he’s getting too old to be dying his hair, whatever that means. For now, you watch his inked fingers run through his scalp; he looks delectable. Maybe you’re hungrier than you initially thought. Or at least thirstier. “A cabin,” he suggests, and he offers this little half shrug that would otherwise seem normal had you not been well-versed in the art of Jungkook Body Language. His front teeth nibble at his lip, eyes laser focused on his empty plate. Even now, he still gets nervous asking you out. That thought alone makes your ego soar as high as an airplane. “Just something small.”

Usually, “something small” with Jungkook ends up being something big and, in most cases, something expensive. Which you’re totally not opposed to— you’re at the point in your relationship where you don’t even bother trying to dissuade Jungkook from showering you with gifts. It’s one of his many, many, many, many forms of loving you and, well, he knows you like the back of his hand. He rarely misses. 

Lo and behold, it is a grander affair than a simple cabin. “Well, it’s more like a resort,” he confesses, reaching across the table for your hand. Immediately, his thumb finds itself rubbing over the simple band of your promise ring. “Just wanna do something nice for you. I know you’ve been tired lately,” he adds on, voice a quiet murmur that nearly gets lost under the intensity of the pout that appears whenever he becomes even the slightest bit bashful. 

You smile, the fondness in your heart skyrocketing to impossible heights when he lifts your hand to press those pretty petal lips against your knuckles. “Well, just let me know when,” you tell Jungkook. “So I can request time off from work.” 

Episode 74: Part 3/5 starts playing after an ad, and you’d pause it for the sake of preserving this moment with Jungkook, but it’s hidden under so many tabs on your laptop that you lose it the second you leave the tab. Jungkook’s head tilts to the side, sending his ashy locks cascading beautifully. “You know that show is on Crunchyroll,” Jungkook says, seemingly moving past his bout of shyness now. “And you have the password.” 

“Do I,” you murmur, but he’s lost you once more, your true talent of typing with one hand showing itself as you return to your Excel sheet, the other still firmly squeezed in his grasp. Jungkook releases soon enough anyway, cleans up the table quickly, and disappears off into the kitchen. He sings when he washes the dishes, likes to pretend he’s a terrible singer even though you’ve told him countless times he could easily take X Factor by storm. (And you know exactly what it takes to wow those judges— you spent the entire last month psychotically watching multiple X Factor seasons from multiple different countries, nearly considered joining the damn audition yourself.) The horribly dubbed Sailor Moon is yelling now, shrieking really, and Jungkook calls from the kitchen, “don’t forget to take your contacts out, sweetheart.” 

It’s domestic and it's nerve-wracking. 

You want Jungkook, that much is a fact. Aristotle and Socrates and that other guy could debate the philosophical intricacies of the world, turn this dimension in on itself until it was a scrambled mess of emotion and thought, but the one thing they could never change, could never even question, is your love for your boyfriend. You want Jungkook badly, but more importantly, you want Jungkook forever. 

And you’re sure Jungkook probably, maybe, hopefully feels that way too. But the way you feel is… slightly concerning to say the least. For starters, you’re convinced your love for Jungkook was meant to be, and that’s saying a lot coming from you. You’re not one for cheesy, soulmate tales— that was more Jungkook’s thing —but the more you think about it, the more you become convinced that you and Jungkook were destined to meet. Like the planets aligned one year, the stars conferred, a tectonic plate somewhere in California shifted; whatever it may have been, something happened somewhere that led to the birth of this beautiful romance of yours. 

Lately, being with Jungkook has this inexplicably fiery feeling blossoming in your chest, these waves of emotion that sometimes have you fantasizing about the weirdest of scenarios with him. Like yelling at him for not taking the garbage out on time, or bumping into each other as you make dinner in the kitchen, or buying a new rug together. 

(Most drastically, the other day, you had a dream where you were pregnant and Jungkook was there and there was a house and a dog and an annoyingly friendly neighbor and this god-awful tile in the bathroom.) 

Long story short, you’ve been fantasizing about a forever with Jungkook. The concerning part is the timing; was this too early? You’re nearly halfway through your second year with Jungkook now, and you know most people date for many, many years before the mere thought of union even occurs to them. In another life, maybe you were the same, would have held off until the very last moment. But with Jungkook things just feel right (at least for you), like there wasn’t going to be anyone else after him. And you sincerely hoped there wouldn’t be. 

You slump back into your seat, eyes fluttering shut. Too many thoughts swirl around your mind, and the screech of the Sailor Moon voiceover on screen certainly doesn’t help. How you managed to spiral that far down your thoughts in the span of one 240p, five minute clip of a larger episode amazes even you. To add onto your worries, the clip abruptly ends and Episode 74: Part ⅘ is nowhere in sight, a fact that draws a frustrated moan out of the already sensitive you. 

Luckily, Jungkook eventually returns, standing closely behind you. His presence is enormous, the room suddenly overflowing with a shit ton of those feel-good endorphins all over again, except this time they reach an all-time high when he leans over and quietly shuts your laptop. “Come sleep,” he says softly, and it’s a pleasant mixture of his genuinely caring voice and that horndog purr of his that lures you into bed. And it’s that same voice that croons softly into your ear, fingers nestled between your folds until you’re orgasming yourself into a deep slumber. 

Much to no one’s surprise, the cabin turns out to be quite the luxurious lodging; two floors of dark oak everywhere you turn, a stunning stone fireplace in the bedroom, and a truly breathtaking view of the resort’s snowy hill (read: front row seats to watch all the snowboarders and skiers wipe out in the snow). Jungkook had splurged quite the pretty penny on it, so you make a point to clap it up for him when he first opens the door to your temporary home for the weekend. 

The main bedroom is beyond words. It’s got an attached balcony (that you doubt you’ll be using in this chilly weather), and a wooden canopy bed that makes you feel like a royal (that you will certainly be using). It’s separated into two areas, the bed space and a tiny entertainment area on the other side of the room. Perhaps the best thing about the room— and the cabin itself —is the huge, smart TV mounted above said stone fireplace and the fact it allows the phone mirroring option in lieu of not having any streaming sites. And as is with every and anything to do with televisions, Jungkook is the most excited of the two of you. “Baby, look,” he beams, pointing excitedly at whatever he’s got mirrored onto the television this time. Knowing him, it’s probably another documentary. 

You had the forethought to finish your work before the trip, spent two days in the office going absolutely ham on this month’s final reports until your department head promptly sent you home to finish the rest there. You had given yourself a fright upon entering the bathroom that night, the state of your under eyes so severe, you feared it was sufficient cause for a national emergency. Similarly, Jungkook had done the same with his work, cooped himself up in his study until he was free from the shackles of capitalism for the weekend. All this to say you’ve missed him these past few days. 

But even though you’re sorely malnourished in the affection department and craving a good kiss or two, you wouldn’t dare interrupt one of Jungkook’s little nerdy, tech-induced fanboy moments. They’re cute, in their own geeky way, providing some insight to a mellower side of your boyfriend who looks on with childlike wonder; Jungkook’s eyes always get so big when he talks about nerdy stuff. You get to work hanging up the silk shirt he packed for tomorrow night’s fancy dinner at the resort, listening to some British narrator’s detailed description of the functionally extinct Northern white rhinos living under 24-hour surveillance in Kenya.  

(Jungkook’s really into nature documentaries again, had spent a few nights sniffling as he watched that one Koko the gorilla film.) 

The original plan was to head to the nearest store and whip up something small to eat at the cabin. But Jungkook is a little tired from the long drive, slumps down into the couch in front of the now lit fireplace like a limbless blob as he tunes into his documentary. His nose is a little red from the outside chill. It’s so cute. He’s so cute. You love him so much, you fear you’ll accidentally squeeze his cheeks to death. It’s a thought that occurs more times than you’d like. 

According to the pamphlet on the nightstand, the resort has its own room-service to order from. Normally you would do that, but not this time; you had gotten into a bit of a squabble with the man at the front desk after he had tried to withhold Jungkook’s reservation for arriving two minutes past your check-in time, called each other all sorts of names before he backed down and gave you your room key. So you’re still a little salty, to say the least. Instead, you settle in for some pizza in front of the huge TV, calling up the nearest place to order some of Jungkook’s and your favorites. 

You plop down beside him, instinctively cuddling closer when he wraps an arm around your shoulders. “So,” you start, flipping through the rest of the resort’s introductory pamphlet. There’s a loud roar on screen. In all honesty, you didn’t even know what Northern white rhinos sounded like until then, and you probably never would have if not for the man beside you. “What are you in the mood for tonight, sweet boy?” 

You’re not sure if it’s the fatigue or the overall relaxed vibes he’d been exuding since the moment you entered the cabin, but Jungkook is weirdly cooperative today. “Whatever you want,” he responds, head on your shoulder. He even places the remote in your hands, gives your enclosed fist a gentle tap as if he’s just handed you the secret to eternal youth. In other words, it’s a rare sight to behold. “This is your trip, pretty girl.” 

You appreciate the sentiment, but feel the need to clear the air, tucking your feet up onto the couch as you snuggle closer. “Our trip,” you clarify, and snatch the remote anyway before he changes his mind. 

Jungkook releases a quiet huff of laughter, head rolling back against the couch cushions to display his thick, juicy neck that definitely doesn’t awaken any vampiric tendencies in you. “We can even watch some anime if you want,” he murmurs, casually throwing an arm around your shoulders in a way that would have made any teenage girl in the early 2000s squeal with excitement. It’s one of those barely there touches, but the way he holds you makes you feel so safe and warm and loved. So loved and in love. “The ones on Crunchyroll, though.”

For the sake of preserving these good vibes (and your ears [and Jungkook’s sanity]), you navigate to the Crunchyroll app on your phone, quickly finding your latest obsession and mirroring it onto the big television before Jungkook can react. “Sailor Moon?” he asks with a tone that implies a feigned interest, mostly out of respect for you; he’s, sadly, still not the big dorky anime fan you had hoped to convert him into. 

“In the name of the moon, I’ll punish you,” you recite dutifully, snatching up the throw blanket on the end of the couch. It’s barely big enough to cover the both of you, has Jungkook’s outstretched legs and your booty subject to the chilly air. Who cares, Jungkook is a furnace anyway. 

He snorts. “Punish me,” he mumbles, as if he doesn’t believe it. His snarky comment wins him a playful pinch against his doughy cheek, not that he particularly defends himself against it anyway, eyes fluttering shut as you tug at the pale skin. 

“Don’t fuck with the moon, Jungkook,” you warn him, snuggling closely against his side as your favorite opening song begins filtering through the speakers of the television before you. It’s infinitely better than the 240p YouTube clips you had subjected yourself to the entire last week, the graphics scarily clear. 

“Right, of course,” Jungkook says, but a hint of amusement seems to curl around the sound anyway. Nevertheless, he lets it go, cuddles into your side as you pour your full focus into watching yet another group of ragtag teenagers with supernatural abilities kick some ass. 

You can tell Jungkook isn’t really into it, and you’re torn between just snuggling him into a well deserved nap or taping his eyelids open so he can become a fan of this show with you. 

The loving, caring, adoring side of you says Jungkook deserves the entire world and more (the more in question preferably being a fluffy blanket and a nap). He worked hard this week, just like you, and on top of that he was the one who planned this entire weekend getaway for the two of you to enjoy. You want him to rest up.

The obnoxiously in love girlfriend-slash-best friend in you says Jungkook is sorely missing out on one of the greatest shows on planet Earth and that naps are for the weak. 

Your jumbled thoughts are interrupted by a loud sound on the television, a yelp from Ms. Sailor Moon herself that has you jolting up in surprise. Jungkook welcomes you deeper into his embrace, chuckles at your little fright. “Scared?” he teases in that low voice that makes you feel like you’re going crazy, really. So crazy and irrational, and the only thing that stops you from bombarding him with an unexpected outpouring of love is that hard and sharp thing that pokes your side when you get too close to him. It’s not Jungkook, sadly, but something in the front pocket of his hoodie instead. 

And for some reason, part of your brain is stuck all of a sudden, rewinding the last two and a half years like a broken cassette tape that had the tape reel hastily stuffed back inside by a toddler. It’s choppy to say the least, and it certainly doesn’t help when Jungkook calls your name softly, tenderly. “__,” he murmurs. It’s a little weird; it’s not often he says your name, mostly referring to you with one of the many pet names from that part of his vocabulary that focuses exclusively on terms of endearment. Your heart skips a beat. 

Now, if anyone were to ask, it’s approximately around this time that you begin to spiral. The pink curve of his bottom lip is just too close, the mole on his nose too prominent. Paired with the obnoxious tittering of Usagi on screen, you can feel your thoughts begin to overlap, bumping into each other within the realm of your brain until all that comes out are the messiest of messy thoughts. 

They go like this: 

Most episodes of any anime run for approximately thirty minutes. Take out the commercial breaks, the opening and ending credits, and it becomes something closer to twenty. Twenty minutes per episode, filled with plot and gags and tears and whatever else necessary to make you feel something, anything really. 

“What’s in your pocket?” you ask tentatively. 

In contrast, it takes approximately two seconds for Jungkook’s lips to quirk up— first the right side, always the right side —and his eyes to crinkle. Two seconds for him to smile, a sweet expression that reminds you of Netflix and college and quiet laughter and tattoos and silly YouTube videos and cookies and cell phones and job applications and blond hair; two seconds to make you feel everything all at once. 

“There’s nothing,” he says, but his cheeks are pink, and it’s not from the cold anymore. His smile is so big it makes your own cheeks ache just looking at it. You can’t even hear the television anymore. Never mind the fact you really like Sailor Moon, or that you really want to pay attention to every little detail; the moment becomes Jungkook and his big smile and his red cheeks and the tiny box he produces from within his pocket. “It was supposed to be for tomorrow,” he admits, unwrapping his arm from around you. 

It’s a little funny, somehow, because his hands are covered in ink, in tiny doodles and intricate pieces of swirls and words that ooze this aura of strength and toughness. But they tremble when he opens it, as unsteady as a wispy dandelion on a windy day, fumbling with the box. And when you look closely, he’s been biting at the skin along his thumb again, that nervous habit you’ve been trying forever to help him overcome. 

Someone is saying something on screen, something important to the plot. The volume is loud, but not as loud as your heart. Not as loud as Jungkook’s quiet murmur when he speaks again. “Will you marry me?” he asks softly, looks at you with flushed cheeks and big eyes and his heart on his sleeve. 

The answer has always been the same, hasn’t changed since the first time he planted the seed in your mind. Still, it catches in your throat, nearly loses out to a surprised and emotional sob that you barely manage to bite down. You had just been speaking, had just been ready to deliver a whole spiel on the importance of him watching Sailor Moon with you. But when you try now, it’s raspy and dry, as if you haven’t used your voice in years. “I— yes,” you exhale, surprised by the lonely tear that trails down your cheek. You go to wipe it away, but Jungkook beats you with a gentle hand cupping your cheek. 

His smile is wobbly, patches of red blossoming across his face that eventually consume his entire appearance as he leans his forehead against yours. Only then do you realize he’s crying, and you laugh out of reflex. “You’re crying,” you say, and Jungkook snorts. 

“You cried first,” he sniffles, smiling. “You made me cry.” 

He looks like a wreck, but, like, a hot wreck. An engaged, hot wreck who’s eyes flicker back to the TV to remind you to pause your anime, always so considerate. You do, hastily smashing buttons on the remote before remembering it’s controlled by your phone, hands flying back and forth as your nerves actively work to retire themselves after Jungkook’s proposal. “Easy there,” he soothes, eventually catching your hand in his, drawing it up for a kiss against your knuckles. 

The ring fits perfectly, snuggly. Vaguely, a memory drifts through your thoughts of Jungkook and Doyeon on a rampant mission to reorganize your jewelry box a few months ago, but it disappears as quickly as it came. You’re taken by the ring, a simple band with a pretty diamond on top. It’s a good mixture of you and him; flashy yet mild. 

“You love me,” you marvel, a revelation you’ve had the honor of experiencing time and time again with Jungkook. Still, it never fails to render you speechless. He hums. 

“I do,” he says, taking your hand in his. “It’s the easiest thing for me. Like breathing, or existing. I think I was made to love you.” And normally, you’d be the first one to correct him. Jungkook was made for so much more, a fact he’s proven time and time again with his abilities and the sheer size of his heart. He was your golden boy, could do anything he set his mind to. Always amazing you, always making you fall in love all over again. 

But now, with the weight of his words sitting heavy in the air, you find yourself incapable of negating the fact, instead sniffling at the meaning. 

Pleased with your silence, Jungkook places another chaste kiss against your ring. “I love you, __,” he confesses, voice nearly a whisper. Your entire body feels as if it is doused in gasoline, lit aflame over and over again. Your heart threatens your rib cage, pounds away with the strength of a world renowned boxer. Jungkook’s hands curl around your wrists carefully. “I used to think we were like the moon and the sun,” he admits, “that you were my sun and I was your moon. In love but always separated by those thin veils of the sunrise and the sunset.” He pauses, nuzzling sweetly against your palm once more before gently guiding them down between the two of you. “But that really sucks— saying goodbye to you every night? I hate that, __. I hate watching you leave, I hate watching you run off in the mornings or halfway through the day, having to drive back and forth from your place to mine. I hate having to be away from you when all I wanna do is hold you. I— I want to be by your side,” he rambles, eyes nervously meeting yours. They’re still glassy, dark lashes framing his chocolate irises wonderfully. “Forever.” 

Your heartbeat stutters, the simple word looping itself in your mind like that night in his dining room all over again, all the fantasies of having a forever with Jungkook bubbling to the surface. Jungkook pushes on. “You are my sun,” he says softly, mostly to himself. “But… I don’t wanna be the moon anymore. Being the moon means, eventually, I’ll have to say goodbye. In the night or in the morning, it always comes to an end. And I don't want there to be an end with you,” he insists, clutching your hand tightly. “I wanna be another star, the closest one to you. The one who gets to be with you forever. I wanna be by you and shine with you and—“

“Explode into a gazillion little fragments of cosmic dust with me,” you offer, and Jungkook nods along eagerly, too amped up on his speech to bother scolding you for your playful comment. 

“Yes, I want to— to—“ The words catch in his throat. So much emotion from the man you once thought was the dictionary definition of calm and collected. “To—“ 

“Marry me,” you fill in, and Jungkook practically blows a fuse from how emotionally fired up he’s become, exclaiming a resolute, “yes!” that leaves you stupidly grinning back at him. 

His outburst leaves him with flushed cheeks. “I do,” he reiterates in a softer tone, averting his gaze from you as if embarrassed by his cheesy outpouring of emotion. Usually, it’s the other way around; you make all the corny declarations of love and Jungkook laughs along suavely. It feels nice to have the tables turned. 

There’s so much to say, but the words all fade away when Jungkook shyly looks at you again. You settle on tackling him back onto the couch cushions, taking his surprised little yelp in stride as you suffocate him in your embrace. “Save those words for the big day, superstar,” you giggle, peppering his red face with tiny kisses that make him scrunch up cutely. “I can’t wait to blow up into one huge supernova with you.” 

Beneath you, Jungkook groans. “I’m sorry,” he huffs, voice muffled against your shoulder. Begrudgingly, his arms come up to envelope you, pulling you closer until the blanket scrunches up uncomfortably between you two. “That must’ve sounded so lame.” 

Leaning back so you’re not completely squishing him, you carefully push his silvery hair away from his forehead. “Don’t be,” you assure him, placing one chaste peck against his pouty lips. “I thought it was cute. I didn’t know you were into astrology.” 

A sigh. “Astronomy,” he corrects, “astrology has to do with zodiac signs and placements.” 

You run your thumbs over his cheeks, collecting any of the drying tears that paint his face. “Oh, like how you’re a Virgo and I’m a“— 

The TV remote you had lost somewhere along the way is suddenly rematerialized beneath your knee, sends the speakers blaring to life with a deafening screech that has both you and Jungkook leaping up like two frightened cats. “You always do this,” he laughs, that loud boyish sound that makes you feel like you’re sitting on a cloud. He watches you with a gentle smile as you hurriedly shut off the television, the remote haphazardly tossed somewhere behind you afterwards. You return to his embrace, wrap your arms around his waist and snuggle into his warmth. His heart thumps a steady rhythm beneath your ear. 

“You’re gonna be stuck with me forever,” you warn him, clutching at the fabric of his shirt like he’ll suddenly disintegrate before your eyes.

Above you, Jungkook hums, placing a kiss against the crown of your head. “I look forward to it,” he responds, pulling you impossibly closer, until you can feel the wrinkles in his shirt imprinting themselves against your cheek. He’s back to being that suave bastard again, and you find yourself wishing you had milked those big crocodile tears out of him for just a little bit longer. 

Fingers gently press against the muscles in your nape, push themselves in deeply until you can feel all the tension seeping out, turning you into a limbless blob over Jungkook. “Jeez,” you sigh, eyes fluttering shut. “And you wanted to wait until tomorrow.”

He huffs out a laugh. “I just thought you’d rather get engaged at a fancy restaurant with a pretty dress,” he defends, and you can hear the grin on his face. “For the photos.”

“Fair point,” you concede, eventually pushing yourself up so you’re not entirely squishing your boyfriend beneath you. Jungkook is already looking at you when you lift your head, has got this funny double-chin from this angle that makes his normally sharp jawline disappear. You find yourself tapping a finger against his chin, on the chocolate chip mole that hides itself beneath his plump bottom lip. “If anything, just propose to me again tomorrow at the restaurant.”

It wins you an eye-roll. “I’m not gonna propose to you again tomorrow,” he laughs, doesn’t even push you away when you become annoying and start tapping your fingers against all his beauty marks like you’re playing Whack-a-Mole. 

“Booo,” you frown, but let it go soon enough, foregoing your little game to press your lips against his. “Then I better make this a night to remember,” you murmur, tilting your head to the side.

Your hands dip into his luscious locks, fingernails tracing thin lines along his scalp that are certain to send tingles down his spine. As predicted, Jungkook releases a quiet groan soon after, a sound that’s muffled against your own lips. He’s pliant tonight, but not in a way that would elude fatigue. Pliant in a way that suggests he wants you to take the reins tonight, exhaling softly against you as he parts his lips. 

“Let me take care of you,” you hum, the hand that had been mindlessly hovering along his cheek drifting down to caress the side of his neck. Jungkook nods, his irises swimming in lust. You smile at his silent compliance, give his throat a light squeeze that makes his breathing hitch in surprise. 

He’s always at his prettiest when he’s beneath you like this, limbs moving in slow motion as you guide him along. You can already feel the beginnings of his arousal stirring beneath the front of his sweats, his cock slowly making its presence known against your thigh. You press your lips against his once more, making sure to make it rougher than the first kiss. Your tongue is met with little resistance, slips past his lips and dips into the hot cave of his mouth where Jungkook releases another trembling breath. 

Two hands come up behind you, trail themselves over your back and down to your ass, where he gives the two globes a tight squeeze. It draws a whimper out of you, one that Jungkook greedily swallows up. His tongue rubs up along yours, the wet muscle daringly pushing back against yours. His rebelliousness is only quelled with another press of your fingertips around his throat.

“Slow down,” you tell him. The first roll of your hips against him is slow, cruel in that you cut the motion short just as Jungkook begins to push back. A bratty huff escapes him, swollen pink lips pushing out into that endearing pout you love so much. It makes you grin, releasing the grip around his throat to carefully brush a stray strand of hair away from his eyes. 

It’s a gesture that works to soften Jungkook as well, the petulant look on his face melting away as you trail your pointer finger along his cheekbone. It’s replaced with a more tender one, dark lashes blinking up at you slowly. “Open,” you command upon reaching his mouth, finger pressing down against his pink lower lip. Jungkook obeys, opening his mouth until you can see his pink tongue and the dark abyss that leads down his throat. Your finger pushes itself in, and Jungkook certainly doesn’t try to resist. His lips suction around the digit fairly quickly, tight enough to keep you there but loose enough for you to slowly draw your finger in and out, each short plunge pressing down against his tongue. 

It’s a rather short affair, one that comes to an end when he accidentally bucks up against you, pressing his hardened member against your core. You retract your finger.  “Can you,” he tries, but his cheeks are stained red and he refuses to meet your gaze. “Just…” 

You intercept him with a chaste peck, maneuvering your legs until your knees are firmly pressed into the couch cushions beneath him, his thin waist trapped in between. When you sit up, you feel drunk on power and the way Jungkook looks up at you certainly doesn’t help. “Can I sit on your face?” 

He chokes. “I— sure, please,” he blurts out. His gaze follows you as you slip off of him, quickly discarding your pants and top on the floor. One pat against his thigh has him hurrying to shimmy out of his clothes, his sweatpants caught around his ankles. 

“You’re excited,” you laugh, stripping him of his bottoms when the frustration takes him over. 

Jungkook scoffs. “Well, yeah,” he mumbles, tugging his shirt off with one smooth motion. The ink around his bicep is as dark as ever, contrasts wonderfully against his warm face. “My fiancée is gonna sit on my face.”

The title makes you preen, quickly finding your place on his lap once more. With your clothing out of the way, Jungkook really does become a furnace. Every inch of his body is hot to the touch, soft too. “Fiancée,” you giggle, hands on his chest. They slide down, fingers playfully nudging his brown nipples. Jungkook flinches at the touch. “Gonna sit on my fiancé’s face,” you parrot back, delicately pinching one nipple between your fingers. A moan spills from his lips, his cock pushing against your thigh once more.

It’s the reminder you need, pushing back dutifully against him as you continue to toy with his chest. He’d look pretty with piercings, you find yourself thinking, watching on in fascination at the way his pert nipples stand at attention. Beneath you, Jungkook begins to grow desperate, his hands finding their place on your waist to encourage you to grind down against him once more. 

Jungkook swears up and down that he’s not particularly sensitive about having his nipples touched. But when you’ve got him like this, sinfully laid out before you, you can easily confirm that his claims are nothing but lies. He loves having his nipples touched, squirms beneath you impatiently with each playful tug and twist you bestow upon them. 

You duck down, pressing a kiss against his pectoral, just beside his nipple, and Jungkook’s entire body shivers. A few careful drags of your tongue against his warm skin only serve to string him along further, the prettiest whimper pulling itself from his lips when you finally envelope one of them in your mouth. “Wait,” he gasps, clawing at your clothing as if he both wants to push you off and push you closer. You grin, brandishing one mean nip at the sensitive nub. 

Eventually, your incessant need to play with Jungkook’s chest is fulfilled. “Lay back,” you instruct, watching as he shuffles down flat on the cushions, silver hair tumbling away from his eyes. He’s so red, eyes hazy. Your panties are discarded, joining the ever growing pile of clothes on the floor. 

Once upon a time, the idea of sitting on Jungkook’s face had terrified you, filled you with nightmares of crushing his windpipe or breaking his nose. For the most part, they’re pretty unrealistic fears, ones that can be easily shut down after one careful Google search on safe sexual practices. These days, it’s all too easy; in the mornings, especially, it’s become natural for him to guide you on top carefully, holding your hand as you whimper and sob over his face. 

In the current moment, you find yourself stroking a hand down the side of his face, completely enamored with the huge puppy eyes he levels your way. Jungkook likes having your pussy in his face just as much as you do, loves making you feel good in any way he knows how. But there’s a separate matter at hand, one that stands at attention beneath his black boxers and successfully wins your attention. 

Truthfully, there is no dilemma to ponder over; you want both to ride Jungkook’s face and suck him off. The solution?

“We’ve never done this before,” Jungkook mumbles in amazement, his voice slightly muffled from his position beneath you and slightly behind you. Still, his arms dutifully wrap around your thighs, guiding you closer to his mouth where his hot breath fans against your glistening folds. You rock back willingly, hands preoccupied with pushing his boxers down and away from his engorged cock. 

“Really?” you ask, suddenly feeling overwhelmed with the cock before you and the tongue that gently laps at your folds. Jungkook makes a sound, something between a hum and whimper, his mouth slowly getting to work against your folds. “M- Maybe,” you stutter, all thought processes coming to a halt as you carefully take him in your hand. 

His cock is hard and long, his tip an angry shade that weeps with precum. From this angle, you get to watch Jungkook’s huge thighs twitch at the sensation, the tattoo that marks up one of them doing little to hide the fact. Your hand squeezes him, watches in awe as another fat droplet oozes out of his tip. A moan tears itself from his throat, and it’s so goddamn sexy it nearly drives you insane. 

It’s one particularly long lap of his tongue over your clit that sends you into action, back arching at the tingles that shoot down your spine. Wasting no more time, you guide Jungkook’s cock into your mouth, let your own tongue shower his mushroom tip in kitten licks that have him bucking upwards. He releases your clit with a lewd pop, hot breath fanning across your lips. “Fuck,” he gasps, voice harsh. 

Admittedly, it’s more difficult than you thought it would be. 

You’re not one to be easily overwhelmed (says you), but with Jungkook’s twitching cock in your mouth and his teasing tongue dipping into your entrance, it becomes hard to juggle your attention between the two. Even Jungkook, who is quite frankly the master of cunnilingus, seems torn between the two, his breathing shallow and quick against your folds. 

With each slow descent around his cock, he shudders, thigh muscles tightening in anticipation. It causes a lull in the pace of his tongue, the generous kisses and licks against your folds subject to a somewhat uneven pace that, surprisingly, leaves you more on edge than you’d ever expected it to; right when you think he’s about to suck your clit into his mouth, you’re met with a harsh exhale instead, one that makes your lips flutter. 

You’re both disappointed in yourselves for never having tried this mind-blowing position before, and equal parts understanding as to why you haven’t tried this position before— it’s a lot. His cock is halfway down your throat when it twitches, sends a gush of precum into your mouth that has your eyes rolling backwards, a whine slipping out around him. Jungkook appreciates the vibrations, letting it fuel him as he plunges his tongue into your hole. It’s a two way street, you realize, one that is constantly experiencing traffic. 

“Baby,” you gasp, pulling off of his cock with a slick sound, hypnotized by the trail of saliva that connects your lips to his tip. Jungkook’s tongue prods along your slit, makes your eyesight go blurry when the tip of his nose brushes along you as well. The idea of his cute nose buried deep someplace it shouldn’t be has you grinding down on him. “We can— we should stop,” you stutter, your trembling hand reaching forward to grasp the base of his cock. 

He’s slick with your saliva and his precum, and your hand makes a squelching sound upon contact. It must feel good, because Jungkook moans against your folds, his thighs unconsciously falling farther apart as you slowly jerk him off. You think you might’ve heard your name slip from his lips, but your mind is fuzzy, lost in your lust as Jungkook licks a sinful line from your hole to your clit, curling his tongue at the end. “J- Jungkook,” you cry, flinching away because it’s become too much, your toes curling as the beginnings of an orgasm threaten you. 

Before that can happen, he relents, leaning back with a heavy exhale, his hands loosening their grip against your ass and plopping back down against the cushions. “Fuck,” he pants, his cock twitching in your hold. A lonely droplet of precum trails down the side, your knuckles coated in the glossy substance. Beneath you, Jungkook rubs one soothing palm against your hip. 

You slink off before he can get any funny ideas, maneuver yourself around until you’re kneeling between his parted thighs, his fat cock standing at attention between the two of you. From here, he looks ravenous, and you begin to question who exactly is taking care of who. Jungkook looks like he’s a second away from pinning you down and swallowing you whole, a thought that makes your toes curl. 

It’s with a cautiously horny hand that you reach for his cock again, holding him with both hands. Jungkook growls, head lolling backwards until all you can see is his neck and his chin, thick veins protruding along his skin. Jungkook doesn’t waste a moment longer. “C’mere,” he purrs, hauling you up until you’re clumsily leaning over him, palms framing his face. A lone finger runs down your spine, its faint touch making you arch forward. “Sorry,” he says, securing an arm around your waist. “I know you wanted to take care of me, but…”

You roll your eyes, submitting yourself to his clutches as he masterfully rolls the two of you over. The couch is soft beneath your back, and Jungkook looks pretty from above too. “You just can’t sit still, can you?” you murmur playfully. 

Jungkook’s forearms find their place beneath your thighs, the fold of the back of your knee perfectly slotted against his warm skin as he shuffles closer. “Maybe another time,” he laughs along sheepishly, his hard cock gliding over your slit, teasing your clit. You gulp, eyes scanning over his lean build as if it’s the first time. “Sorry,” he repeats, but he’s got this stupidly dopey grin on his face as he glances down at your pussy; he’s insane, he’s got to be, what man makes heart eyes at a pussy?

Your man, apparently. Grasping the base of his cock, Jungkook takes care to drag it along your folds collecting your wetness along his length, a deep shudder wracking his body through it all. “I knew you would do this to me,” he mutters, so low you nearly miss it under the thundering sound of your heartbeat.

“Huh,” you mumble, and you’d like to defend yourself and say you weren’t as cock-crazy as Jungkook was coochie-crazy, but that would be a lie. You’re staring at his cock as if it holds the secrets to the universe right now.

Jungkook juts his head to the side, a motion similar to the one he does when he’s trying to crack his neck. His tongue prods along his cheek, eyes laser-focused on the point where your two bodies meet. “From the moment you walked into my house,” he grunts mindlessly, finally lining himself up with your entrance. He chances a glance up, meets your gaze with a patient look, “all good?”

“All good,” you hurriedly reply, fingers finding their place against his broad shoulders. With the way he had prepared you earlier, mouthed along your clit and your folds until you were pleasantly aroused, the glide now is too easy. Tight, but easy, has the two of you releasing twin moans that echo off the wooden walls of the cabin. 

Jungkook’s forehead is covered in a thin veil of sweat, one that glistens when the evening sunset pours in through the balcony doors, highlighting him in a golden light that makes you dizzy. The angry tip of his cock sinks into your walls, Jungkook’s ashy strands sticking to his forehead and his cheeks. For some reason, you find yourself reminiscing on the aforementioned moment Jungkook had spoken of. Of the soft sweater he’d worn that day and the dinner he had made, the blond tips on his chestnut hair and the way he’d clung onto every word you’d said. 

It makes you tear up, and, after laughing at Jungkook early for crying, you quickly turn your face away. 

Jungkook isn’t dumb. “What now,” he chuckles, though his breathing is labored, every inch of his cock that penetrates you further bringing with it another rush of adrenaline. At the hilt, you’re embarrassed to say there’s multiple tears streaming down your face, so you can’t even play it off as you usually do. “Crybaby,” Jungkook teases, but his voice is so soft and tender you don’t know what to do with yourself. 

“Just move,” you bite out, shamefully covering your face with your hands. Jungkook leans over you, the movement pushing his dick deeper inside of you, your walls clenching around him. A kiss is placed over your knuckles, just shy of your engagement ring. Your chest lurches with a silent sob. “Jungkook,” you whimper, sinking further into the cushion, “please, just—“

“I got it,” he assures you, placing one final peck against your handmade (literally) shield. And then, so quietly you almost miss it, he makes sure to whisper, “love you,” before unsheathing himself. 

You shudder, your heart feeling so full, you fear it’ll burst. You both love and hate when he treats you like this, like an ice sculpture in the scorching heat that has him doing everything he can to keep you solid. His touch is soft, the roll of his hips too slow for your liking. You feel so small and vulnerable— too pampered. “Harder,” you beg, your voice an airy whine that has Jungkook chuckling above you. 

He lives to please you, hiking your leg over his shoulder with a renewed vigor. His hands find themselves on your waist, forcefully pinning you down against the couch cushions as he sets upon fulfilling your latest request. The next series of thrusts are jerky, have you jostling in his grip as Jungkook pounds into you with an all new mindset. “Lemme see you,” he huffs, thumbs painfully digging into your skin. You tremble in his arms, heart swayed by the quiet plea in his voice. “Let me see your face, pretty girl.”

Reluctantly, you do, brandishing your tear-stricken face his way. Jungkook smiles, that stupidly handsome smile, his hips snapping into you roughly. “Fuck,” he moans, the expression never leaving his face, even when run your nails over his chest harshly. “You’re so pretty.”

You ignore him for the sake of your already weakened mental state, focusing instead on the brutal force of his hips, the way his cock stretches your walls out. Each push has you seeing stars, thighs quivering from the sensations that shoot up your spine and down your toes. “Oh,” you mewl, hands gripping his biceps as you lose yourself to him. Your eyes roll back, vision a mess of colors and nothingness all at once. 

“Is this hard enough?” Jungkook husks out, and he sounds so close. His proximity is confirmed when his mouth slots against yours, his harsh breath mingling with your own as he continues to frantically buck into your inviting heat, each new round of thrusts leaving you weaker and weaker than before. “God,” Jungkook cries, the sound nearly lost beneath your own moans and whimpers. “Gonna k- keep you forever,” he spits, tongue slipping into your mouth.

He’s messier than usual, moves with unrefined movements unlike his normal self. You don’t care, you love him all the same. His sloppy kisses turn into desperate ones, matching the pace of his hips. “Kook,” you sob, arms wrapping themselves around his neck, pulling him close until his thrusts are reduced to a shallower depth. 

“I’ve got you,” he croons, lips against your jawline. His cock presses in and you swear you feel it alongside every inch of your walls, a warmth blossoming in your stomach. He’s layering messy kisses down your face now, lips sucking dark marks any chance he gets. 

True to his word, Jungkook indeed has you. His cock pistons in and out at an astonishing pace, each surge into your folds making you dizzy over and over again. It’s a feeling you fear you’ll never grow tired of, in fact, it’s a feeling you fear you’ll begin to crave even more in the future. The good thing is, that future will extend into forever. 

You yank him towards you, swallow his low laughter with your lips. Jungkook doesn’t complain, lowering himself until he’s practically squishing you beneath his beefy body, cock ramming in and out despite all that. His tongue glides along yours, makes it his mission to muffle each of your cries. 

It doesn’t take long for you to be fulfilled. Given the fact you had sucked him off like a lollipop whilst having him eat you out, you’re not entirely surprised. That and the emotions of tonight have you melting into him sooner than you’d like, his name falling from your lips as your thighs clamp down around his waist. Jungkook takes it in stride, slows the maddening pace of his hips to cradle you in his arms. You’re like jelly, practically flop back into the cushion when he slips an arm beneath you. “You’re so good for me,” Jungkook praises, lavishing your throat in tiny pecks as his orgasm circles around. “My pretty girl.”

“Love you,” you sigh, and your body feels numb, his intrusion but a small touch now that he’s tired you out once more, your walls tender and raw. Jungkook presses a smile against your throat and, moments later, releases inside of you. 

Even minutes after the deed, the feeling refuses to return to your legs. He didn’t go that hard— well, you’re not entirely sure. The memories always become blurry toward the end of your escapades. Everything rushes back in waves, and for some reason, your first thought is, “where’s Sailor Moon?”

Your post-rump conversations have never been the most coherent, usually filled with pretty weird thoughts and ideas. Still, more grand things have happened tonight for you to be worried about a magical anime girl. Jungkook draws himself out of your core with a huff of laughter. “On the TV,” he answers, unfazed by the oddity of your question. 

That’s how you know he’s a keeper.

It takes a while, but eventually Jungkook responds. “Avocado toast,” he says, though his answer is dripping with uncertainty. He’s naked as the day he was born, snuggled up beside you in bed. He’s propped up on one arm, looking down at you over the ample swell of his manly bosom. It takes everything in you to keep your hands off his chest. 

“Correct,” you respond, “and what movie did we watch?”

Without missing a beat, “Transformers, the first one.”

You nod, glancing at the ceiling as you rack your brain for any other trivia questions to ask your fiancé. “The title of the playlist you made?”

A flush paints his cheeks. “Date Night playlist,” he answers through a pout, reprimanding you for bringing up such a memory with a flick to your forehead. You wince. “I was young and silly,” he defends.

You beam, cuddling into his side until he’s forced to lay back down. “Yeah, yeah,” you tease. “We’re only gonna get older from here,” you lament. You’d say it’s difficult to picture him with a gray head of hair, but his current silvery locks don’t leave much room for your imagination.

Jungkook pulls you close. A beat of silence passes, and then, “so who are we telling first?”

Definitely Namjoon.

Copyright © 2021, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[fandommissingmoments]

Learning to Live (Mike Munroe)

Mike leant on the railing overlooking the river, facing the skyline with lights twinkling across the other side, but saw none of it. All he saw was the bleakness of the sky buildings protruded up into, the expanse of space sprawling before him, and tried to keep the monsters in his memory at bay. His breath clouded slightly in the air before him, a reminder along with his heaving pants that he was still alive. That he’d survived. The jogging sometimes helped to clear his thoughts, to dispel the demons that threatened to overwhelm him. But sometimes it was meditation; the ability to be still that had saved him that night. And sometimes finding peace was impossible, but he had to try otherwise what was the point?

‘I thought I’d find you here.’ Sam’s voice was soft, tentative because she knew even that would startle him; knew that his attention would snap to her with fear behind his eyes that he didn’t need to hide, and yet still occasionally he found himself trying to stifle the truth of all they’d been through.

What they’d faced together.

She moved to stand a little to his left, her forearms resting on the barrier and her attention shifting out across the water. Mike followed suit, loosening another tense breath. He’d tried to leave the apartment quietly, tried not to disturb her because he thought she’d been asleep. He should have known better though. None of them really slept any more, too plagued by nightmares and the inability to ignore the lingering question of “What if?”

‘I just needed to clear my head,’ Mike admitted, finding it easier to say the words when not looking at her. The cityscape before him suddenly came into sharper focus, the moving lights of cars, the vague noises of life drifting on the wind. All of it a reminder that they were no longer fighting for their lives at the lodge. That they weren’t trapped. He could leave the city any time he wanted, try another place. Not that it would help; the monsters would follow him.

‘Want to find somewhere noisy?’

Mike shook his head. Sometimes the press of other people, the reminder of everything still around them, were good ways to ground himself. But sometimes, like tonight, he just needed quiet.

‘Talk to me,’ she murmured softly.

It felt like somebody had stuffed his mouth with cotton wool. His throat was suddenly dry and Mike didn’t even know where to begin. He knew Sam would understand, that if anybody would know all he’d been through it was her, and yet there were still times when the words wouldn’t come. He guessed it had more to do with not even wanting to voice them to himself, more than not wanting to tell Sam about it.

‘We’re still here,’ he managed to say, exhaling slowly once the words were finally free. So much had happened and yet they were still there, still fighting to survive each day. To live with the trauma.

‘We’re still here,’ she agreed, and right now that was enough for him. Enough for him to turn towards her properly.

‘We should head back,’ he said, offering her a small smile.

Sam surveyed him for a moment, her attention lingering on her eyes as if she could read everything there, before she nodded once.

He just hoped that the apartment wouldn’t feel so claustrophobic when they got back this time.

[unluckyhoneybee]

Juri’s first f1 win and he uses it as an opportunity to finally admit his feelings?

Note: NOT EDITED. Englush is not my first language

There he was for the first time on the podium. Your eyes were full of tears, seeing him so happy celebrating his first F1 win.

You had been with him during his whole career. Everytime you could, you had gone with him to the GPs. You knew that he will get it one day and you couldn't be more proud.

The whole team was celebrating in the garage and everything was messy and noisy. You hadn't barely see you friend, but you were so happy for him. He was finally where he was supposed to be. He was a grand prix winner now.

As you filled your cup with more champagne, you felt a hand on your waits. Looking up, you saw his blue eyes and rosy cheeks.

"Can we talk for a second?" He whispered getting impossibly closer to your ear. You could feel his breath on your skin and your heart getting faster.

"O-of course."

He took your hand and tangled your fingers, pulling you away from the garage.

"Were are we going, Jüri?"

"Somewhere more quiet"

Soon you were on the finish lane, right on the fence.

"Why are we here?"

You were getting nervous. Recently being alone with Jüri had become more and more difficult. He was so sweet, so handsome and so nice to you.

"Em... I have seen this photo and... It made me think"

He showed you the photo. It was you on the same fence you were then cheering at him when he crossed the line.

You smiled. You hadn't feel as happy as you did in that moment for a really long time.

"I'm so proud of you, Jüri" You said caressing his biceps. He smiled and got a step closer to you.

You took a deep breath and your shaky hands fell on his chest.

"I want to tell you something. I have for a while, actually" He said nervously.

You were probably as nervous as him suspecting what he may had to say.

Jüri grabbed one of you hands and kissed your knuckles.

"I-I think I'm in love with you. Well no, I know I'm in love with you. I want to celebrate my wins with you, all of them. As my girlfriend if you'd want to."

You felt tears in your eyes.

"I want to come here each weekend with your hand on mine and... Yeah. I love you"

Your heart felt like if it would jum out of your chest.

"I'm in love with you too, Jüri."

He closed his eyes for a second and then looked at you. His hands cupped your face.

"Are you?"

"Mhm. You are so talented and... Cute and... You have a charm, my friend" You both laughed a bit. "Being here tonight has been one of the most special things I have ever lived"

"I will win more races if that makes you happy"

You laughed a bit.

"I'd like that pretty much."

"Would you be my girlfriend?"

You smiled and bit your lip. Grabbing onto his sides, you pressed your lips against his and gave him a deep and lovely kiss.

His lips were sof and his kiss sweet, his hands caressing the skin of your cheeks with care.

"I'd love to be your girlfriend" You muttered on his lips.

He smiled and kissed you again.

"This is probably the best day of my life"

"Wait till you win the championship"

"I will ask you to marry me then"

[thefanbasewhore]

“You can hold my hand if you want.”

Summary: [Number 45 from the prompt list, "You can hold my hand if you want."] Din's search for a bounty leaves reader tired and unable to keep up with him but Din has an idea that will slow him down. 

Warning/Content: soft fluffy din 🥺 relationship is not established between characters (yet lol) but yeah, Din is a touched starved beskar babe 🪐

Paring: Din Djarin/female reader

click here for my tag list! || Masterlist. 

“Let’s go.” The words catch the static of the hissing vocoder making her eyes shift to him with confusion. The planet they landed on was one she never heard of before somewhere far in the galaxy but none the less looked like any other planet. The Mandalorian had been tracking this bounty for weeks but that’s not was surprising, no man or woman is a matching for him. It’s the fact he pushes the button on his arm and sunlight squints eyes as it lower with a slow hiss. “This planet is a scumhole, I’m not leaving the kid or you here on the ship alone, let’s go, he’s close.”

The fob beeps with flashing red to prove him right. She doesn’t reply just nods an understanding while the child is tucked into the bag that lies across the beskar clad chest. She tries to move but the sudden close proximity of him only inches away from her face makes her freeze, gloves reach for the sling of the bad lifting it over his head to lay it against her shoulders watching the way it forms between the valley of her breast - it’s tempting, hard not to tilt his head when they’re so close but with a deep breath he manages to keep his eyes against hers. “I want him to stay with you. Use your blaster if you have to and if I said run, you run, understand?”

It’s a silent nod, eyes averting his gaze at all costs while it’s not intentional she can’t help how nervous she feels under the gaze of the visor but gloved fingers bump the point of her chin to gently lift to what she guessed is his eyes. “I need to hear you say it. You and the child’s safety comes first.”

“I understand Mando..Shoot anyone that’s not you and run.” Even through the gloves he can feel the softness of smooth skin and wishes he could stay here forever with his fingers pressed against her cheeks but the act is too intimate for just partners. There are so many lonely, sleepless nights Din has to remind himself that it’s not more than that, nothing more then a business deal. 

The sun was bright, temporarily blinding the trio as the reach the threshold of warmth from the outside, the heaviness of his boots already carry on before she can even realize he’s heading towards the woods, taking long strides that still were no match for the Mandalorian. 

By the time they reached civilization the sun started to set over the horizon, a small yawn from the woman a few feet behind him has him turning over his shoulder to see the exhaustion etched across soft features. He stops for a second as he squeezes his first with frustration, it’s aimed towards himself mostly guilt because well he’s been trained his whole life to be a warrior, to be able to endure walking for hours but the woman who doesn’t realize he’s stopped and crashed into the hardness of his back with a soft ‘oof’ isn’t built for such things. 

“Are you...” He turns to face her, eyes shifting from drooping eyes to watch her cross her arms around her chest to rub palms against the bare skin of her arms, goosebumps rising as the body’s attempt to keep internal heat as she feels fingers beginning to numb from the last few hours. “Are you cold?”

Before she can even answer leather gloves reach behind his head to bunch the cape and pull it from the collar and drape it over her shoulders. It’s thick, dirty and torn in some places but was instantly warms the tingling skin.

“Just a few more hours, he’s in town and then we can go back, I know you’re tired.” His hands never leave her shoulders as an attempt to warm the skin, press closer for his body almost flushes against her own shivering body. 

“I’m fine, baby is asleep though. I’ll be right behind you, promise.” He doesn’t like the though of leaving her behind, drifting unprotected behind him all because he didn’t know how to slow down. No matter how much the helmet helped enhance his senses it wasn’t always guaranteed especially with the linger presence of the woman that scrambles his brain, he couldn’t concentrate with her so close.

“Come, I want you in front of me.” She knows the hand against her back doesn’t mean much just a means of a way to direct her towards the front of him. One foot in front of the other, he wonders how someone can be so slow but still manage to be so noisy. It can’t be stopped, the way his chest hits her back with accidental force, long nights of discipline make it almost impossible to not walk over here.

He takes a deep breath, stopping just to give her a few feet to walk before his one stride meets with her again, he let’s out a frustrated huff that makes her turn towards him. “I’m sorry Mando, I’m trying. I don’t -.”

The way her voice falters as her voice drops with frustration to meet his own. Despite not being able to keep up with him, running through the woods for hours with no food or water but still managed to fight against screaming legs and an aching back, he was impressed to say the least, she’s always filled with such an intense fire and he couldn’t help but drift towards it. He wishes she would realize how strong she is, see herself through his eyes. 

Din tenses behind as the words almost fall effortlessly from his lips, “You can hold my hand..if you want too.” 

Cheeks turning red under the helmet and for more times then he can count he’s glad for the shield that separates him from the outside world. It’s starting to get hot, her gaze across his skin heating the nape of his neck, words fumbling out in embarrassment, rejection as moves his extended arms back towards him. “This way I know I’m going to fast.”

One heavy boot touches the ground as his attempt to get as far as possible from the lingering silence. She knows it takes a lot from his to offer this, to say those words and for the moment is too shocked to move. It’s uncharacteristic, the way his fingers touched her chin early, took his own source of heat to wrap it around her shoulders as well as rub the smooth skin of her hands and then offering this. 

Before he could manage to stride ahead, small fingers reach for his forearm to stop him, a small smile makes his heart jump in his chest. He’s thankful they’re still in the wood, no one here to see how ridiculous he looks stiffening with her touch, his throat drying as the hand slides down the whole length of his arm to fill the gaps of his fingers with her own. Din tries not to stare, a heavy haze of tension filling the air.

It’s unspoken but truthfully had been lingering for months but even though it’s not bare skin, it’s intensified and he can’t help but stare at the roundness of her bottom lip as his other hand reaches up to press a thumb against the plumpness, moving closer and closer but stopping with as his helmet bumps against her forehead with a small gasp of pain.

His cheeks are ablaze as he can’t believe he forgot that the helmet was there. Her touch temporarily blinded him, all senses void the only thing that mattered was how beautiful she looked in that moment, tiredness weighing down eyelids, lips swollen from sucking on them. A breath is stuck inside his throat with realization, her own curious gaze lifting to meet his eyes then down to his lips exposing just what he wanted to do. “Kifff, are you alright I didn’t mean-.”

His own words drop as the small fingers press against the coldness of the helm, the decreasing temperature didn’t help the shivering but at the moment she can’t care less. Her head tilts slightly pressing a kiss against the coolness of the beskar right where he lips lie under it. It’s not what he wants but all that can be given in the current predicament. It’s the way unsure eyes roam over the helm looking for any reinsurance but is only met with the coldness of zero emotions but the lingering is so sweet he feels his ears ring, lips twitch with the briefest smile.

He pauses, can’t move due to the way the linger thought of how those lips would feel against his own, against his skin. If this was the feeling he got from just them lingering against his helm he can’t imagine the way his body will explode with goosebumps, he feels something stir deep inside him. He wants to turn around and return to the crest to continue this in the dark, wants to feel his skin flushing hers but he hesitantly pulls his fingers from her cheeks with a shaky sigh.

“Let’s go.” Fingers tighten their hold on his own, pressing his forehead against the heated one in front of him. “Stay close sweet girl, I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

tags: @victias , @altarsw, @coonflix, @mudhornchronicles, @buckysalefty, @capsheadquaters, @ilikemymendarkandfictional, @maileecabudol, @mermaidbrina​, @godohammers​, @nikkixostan​, @fangirlmendes 

[starlingflight]

@thisismegz as requested, the missing scenes from Everything I Wanted of Ginny dealing with her guilt over how things went between her and Dean. 

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The sun felt especially bright contrasted as it was by nearly a full day in the dungeons with no one but Snape for company. Harry savoured the way the light summer breeze tickled his uncovered arms and the way Ginny’s hand felt in his as they made their way out into the grounds. 

It seemed the majority of Hogwarts’ population had decided to take advantage of the good weather, for the lawn beside the lake was crowded with huddles of students. Their usual tree was already taken by a noisy group of fourth-year girls and so Ginny led him to a free patch of grass not far from the lake's stony shore. She sat cross-legged on the ground, pulling Harry with her. 

He went to position himself beside her but Ginny clearly had other ideas, she shuffled slightly, placing her hands on his shoulders and smoothly guided Harry’s head into her lap so that he was lying on the soft grass with Ginny above him, her fingers tracing lightly across his forehead. 

“If your brother sees this he’s going to lose his mind,” Harry warned, though in truth he was finding it difficult to care. The headache that had been building behind his eyes, caused by a long day in the dark, stuffy dungeon was receding with every stroke of Ginny’s fingers over his skin.

Unsurprisingly, Ginny seemed to care even less about Ron’s reaction than Harry did. Her only response to his warning was to gently slide his glasses off and place them carefully on the grass beside them, making it easier for her fingers to trace the features of his face without obstruction. 

Neither of them said anything for a while, Ginny was now little more than a blur of creamy skin and striking red hair above him. Eventually, Harry let his eyes slowly drift closed, revelling in the feel of her fingers on his face and the sweet, floral smell of her shampoo drifting to him on the summer breeze. 

Snape became nought but a distant memory under Ginny’s careful attention and Harry was vaguely considering that there was a strong chance he was going to fall asleep, warm and content as he was, when Ginny broke the silence between them. 

“I think I'm going to apologise to Dean," She declared. 

It took Harry a moment to register what she’d said, his brain felt fuzzy from the heat. When his wits finally caught up with him, Harry almost asked her why but he immediately realised he didn’t need to. 

He’d seen the guilt on Ginny’s face last night and he’d felt the same thing himself. They’d both admitted they’d been in denial about their feelings for each other for a while and maybe that was no one’s fault but it didn’t change the fact that Dean had been caught up in it. 

“If I tell you I think it’s a bad idea are you going to think it’s because I’m jealous or threatened or something?” 

Ginny's fingers were still stroking lightly across his cheeks, over the bridge of his nose, across his forehead and Harry found that it was almost impossible to feel jealous given his current situation. 

“No,” She said mildly. “I’m going to ask you why you think that, though.” 

He’d rather she didn’t but if Harry was being honest with himself, he knew her better than to expect Ginny to blindly accept what he was saying. “I’ve been in his position. I watched you with him for months, and I didn’t expect you to break up or begrudge either of you your happiness or anything but…” 

Harry trailed off, still not used to telling anyone his deepest feelings and still not entirely comfortable with it. 

"But?" Ginny prompted, one of her hands working its way up into Harry's hair, massaging his scalp. He felt himself relax immediately. 

"But there isn't anything you could have said to me to make me feel better about the situation, to make me not want you." 

Ginny's hands didn't stop their slow exploration of his hair for even a second. "It's not the same thing," She said without missing a beat. 

"How isn't it?" 

"It was never like this with Dean," Ginny unwound one of her hands from his hair in order to gesture between the two of them before quickly returning it, much to Harry's delight. "I was never this happy, not even at the start. The thing that you were waiting for is so much better than what Dean lost." 

Secretly, Harry wholeheartedly disagreed with this. The thing that he'd been waiting for, the thing that Dean lost, was Ginny and there were no words on the planet that could ease the devastating blow that Harry already knew would come from ever losing her. 

"You really want to talk to him?" Harry asked, knowing it was pointless to argue with her when she'd already made her mind up. 

“I really do,” Ginny responded and Harry knew the matter was settled. 

“Okay,” He agreed. “Did you want to go now?” He added reluctantly, he could quite happily stay in this spot for the rest of his life. 

“No,” Ginny said quickly, leaning forward and placing a soft kiss to Harry’s lips. “I’ve been waiting all day for you to get out of detention, you’re staying right where you are.” 

**

Ginny and Dean did not cross paths for the rest of the weekend. Nor was he anywhere to be seen at breakfast or lunch on Monday. Ginny was beginning to strongly suspect that he was avoiding her when she quite literally walked into him on her way out of Ancient Runes on Monday afternoon. 

“Sorry - oh!” Dean’s apologetic smile faltered as he took Ginny in. 

“I’ve been looking for you!” Ginny said with as much enthusiasm as she could muster, though Dean still didn’t look cheered at her pronouncement. 

“Er, have you?” 

“Yeah, do you mind if we go somewhere and talk?” 

Dean’s eyes narrowed suspiciously in a way that made Ginny’s heart sink. They’d been friends for years, they’d been close since the first D.A. meeting and now the two of them had reached a point where the prospect of holding a conversation was enough to set Dean on edge. 

“It’ll be really quick, I promise.” Ginny tried again, hoping her face held as much sincerity as she currently felt. 

“Alright,” Dean said reluctantly, gesturing for Ginny to lead the way. 

There was a low wooden bench halfway down the corridor, under a row of mullioned windows which revealed the sweeping vistas of the Hogwarts grounds and the lake. If nothing else, at least the view would be pleasant. 

Ginny took a seat on the bench and Dean followed her lead; she couldn’t help but note he was sitting as far away from her as physically possible. One good shove and he’d topple over onto the castle’s stone floor. 

“How have you been?” She began cautiously. 

“Fine,” Dean responded. Ginny raised a sceptical eyebrow. Dean had always been forthcoming with his feelings, one-word answers weren’t his style at all. “I’ve been good, Ginny. I’ve been working on my art - I’ve had a lot of emotion to channel into my drawings, I think I’ve got some really good ones for my portfolio.” 

Ginny nodded, trying not to think too hard about what emotions Dean may have been using to fuel his creative pursuits. “You were always very talented.” 

It was Dean’s turn to raise a dubious eyebrow at Ginny now. “Is that what you wanted to say to me? You like my drawings?”

“No, I wanted to apologise,” She said slowly, half-expecting Dean to shut her down before she’d explained herself. When he said nothing, but continued to look at her expectantly Ginny took a deep breath before continuing. “I should have ended things between us long before I did. I knew your feelings were stronger than mine and I shouldn’t have kept stringing you along.” 

Dean listened patiently as Ginny spoke, but he began to shake his head in disagreement as she finished. “That wasn’t what bothered me. It was that I could clearly see where things were going between the two of you, but you were so adamant that I was seeing things that weren’t there. It was frustrating.” 

Ginny began to fiddle nervously with the ends of her hair, slipping the long strands between the ends of her fingers. “You’re right,” She said quietly, looking not at Dean but out of the window where she could just make out the Giant Squid’s tentacles rising out of the water in the distance. “I know it probably doesn’t help, but I hope you know I wasn’t lying to you on purpose - I really believed our banter and joking was innocent, it was unbelievable to me that Harry might actually have liked me.” 

Dean made a noise halfway between a snort and a chuckle; Ginny looked back from the window to find that he was smiling at her. “Of course he liked you, have you seen you?” 

“Stop it!” Ginny exclaimed, reaching out and shoving Dean lightly enough that he didn’t fall off the bench as she’d been worried he might earlier. “I’m trying to have a serious conversation with you!” 

“You stop it!” Dean argued through a laugh. “Serious conversations don’t suit you at all!” 

Ginny grinned, it had been so long since they’d joked with one another. Even in the weeks before they’d broken up all they’d done was argue. “Does that mean we can be friends?” 

“Honestly, I think friends will suit us better than a relationship ever did,” Dean said sincerely. “No offence, but I didn’t find the constant fighting particularly enjoyable and I don’t think you did either.” 

Ginny chose not to answer, there was no point in going over their old fights now. When she looked back on her time with Dean it was as though she was remembering something from a different lifetime. Instead, she pushed herself up from the bench and waited for Dean to join her. “Come on, let’s go and set the Hogwarts rumour mill alight by walking into dinner together.” 

Dean fell into step beside Ginny without protest, the cautious, guarded look that had been upon his face at the beginning of the conversation was no longer in sight. 

[yuriko-mukami]

His Possession Maniac 04

Yuriko had been doodling in her notebook during classes for the whole evening. It was also difficult to focus on the subject at hand; lately, her mind had been more of a whirlpool than ever before. Finding her mother’s diary opened a whole new side of her history and finally confirmed the existence of Yuuto. Not to mention the blood magic that explained why Yuriko wasn’t showing any signs of being a kitsune.

It was difficult to decide what to think or feel about the whole thing. While Yuriko’s thoughts kept whirling, she still felt numb like she wasn’t connected to her mother and her deeds in any way. Like everything was just a tale in a novel, a story she had read and then moved on to other matters.

Except it seemed impossible to move on.

Nibbling her bottom lip, Yuriko kept doodling. The teacher’s words ran past her ears. For a moment she had hoped she could be something special. Then all her struggles in life hadn’t been for nothing, and she would have been more equal to Ruki. While her father had kept calling her monster, she had remained a regular human being, with no sign of kitsune in her, perhaps aside from her blood, since, according to Ruki, it had an intoxicating taste. Though Yuriko wasn’t quite sure if that was the case with any blood when it came to the vampires. Was kitsune blood anything special compared to human blood?

And why did it even matter? Yuriko sighed. She should focus on finding the gate her mother had mentioned in the diary. Yuuto had spoken about it too, but there weren’t any notes about where it actually was.

“The shrine is almost non-existing, hidden well, and only the ones with kitsune blood can open the gate.”

The words echoed in Yuriko’s mind. A shrine and kitsune blood. She had the latter but didn’t know where the place was. Her mother had mentioned traveling through the forest when she had come to Kaminashi City for the first time, so that could be a clue.

I wonder if Dad missed that part…

Yuriko’s gaze traveled through the classroom full of people focused on the subject at hand. Pencils scratched against the notebooks, book pages were turned, and every so often, someone couched. Everything in the classroom was normal like nothing had happened, yet Yuriko’s life seemed to turn upside down. And as if that wasn’t enough, Ruki had suddenly left somewhere. He had only mentioned that he needed to meet someone very important and while he was away Yuriko was to stay in the care of his brothers at all times.

Shaking her head slightly, Yuriko continued doodling. She didn’t mind being with the brothers around the house but at school that was a bit uncomfortable; it hadn’t taken long for others to notice that the Mukamis didn’t suddenly leave her alone. The most worrying thing was the glares from Kou’s fans who seemed to be as fanatic as any idol’s stans could be, and Yuriko surely didn’t want to cross with them. It would be the same kind of disaster as in her previous school, though the reason would be different this time. Nevertheless, she wished to stay under the radar and concentrate on her own matters.

When the lunch break arrived, Yuriko took out a lunch box from her school bag and put it on her desk. The salad, omelet roll, and rice made a perfect combination, yet it was difficult to enjoy the meal in a classroom full of noisy people. Usually, Ruki took her to somewhere less crowded for lunch, and even now and then he had let her eat with Elizabeth – though Yuriko was pretty sure he had been keeping an eye on them both during those times.

But there was no way Yuriko would want all the other Mukamis to have lunch with her and Elizabeth, risking the zombie girl getting in trouble with Kou’s fans. So, she pulled out the Sarashina Diary and read it while eating. They would have to finish their school project with Ruki soon anyway so she decided it would be wise to go through the book again.

Absorbed in the hidden beauty of poetry and the daily life of a Heian Period girl, Yuriko was finally able to relax a bit. The lunch disappeared as the words carried her to the past. But soon her bubble was burst by the voice that sailed into her ear.

“Hey, M-kitsune-chan~ Come here and spend time with me since you’ve already eaten.”

The blond vampire clapped an empty chair beside him and smiled at her most charmingly. Unfortunately, Yuriko wasn’t the only one who noticed that; several heads turned first in Kou’s direction and then the eyes pierced Yuriko with hostile curiosity she recognized all too well. Hastily, she shook her head.

“Umh, I’m sorry, Kou-kun, but I think… I mean… I have something else I need to do…”

“No, no, M-kitsune-chan. Ruki-kun said directly that you should hang with me tonight~”

“Hah!? Ruki said Vixen is supposed to be with us all, not just with you, Kou!”

“Yes… we should… all take care of… Yuriko-san…”

Twitching in her seat, Yuriko's gaze jumped from one brother to another. They all seemed a bit too eager to hang with her. She understood it was important to Ruki, but still, she could have used the rest of the lunch break chatting with Elizabeth. It was just… It still didn’t seem a good idea to drag all the Mukami brothers with her.

“Actually, I need to go to the bathroom, so…”

Yuriko stood up, fixing her skirt. While she did so, all three brothers were instantly on their feet, not caring about their classmates who were still having their lunch and glancing at all of them. The whole situation must look very weird.

“Umh… it's the girls' bathroom so…”

“We’re gonna wait for ya outside, Vixen,” Yuma stated.

“I don’t think you all need to come. You know, it would look bad if you all just stood there…” Yuriko said, pondering how she should play this out. Her eyes met Azusa’s, a sudden realization budding in her mind. “I think… it’s enough if Azusa-kun comes with me.”

I’m already sorry. But I really want to see Eli-chan…

It was clear to see that neither Yuma nor Kou liked the suggestion, but Azusa gave Yuriko a warm smile that clenched her heart as they walked out of the classroom. She slipped into the girls’ bathroom, thinking about how she would be able to escape Azusa and sneak to check if Elizabeth was in her classroom eating lunch.

The opportunity came in an odd way. Just a minute later, two girls walked in, and when they opened the door, Yuriko couldn’t help but hear Azusa speaking in the corridor.

“That’s right… Justin…”

Who’s Justin?

Yuriko peeked into the hallway, seeing Azusa absorbed in a conversation with no one other than himself. Noticing that was somewhat worrying, and in another situation, Yuriko might have asked about it, but right now, her mind was wandering elsewhere. Very quietly she sneaked out and tiptoed toward the first-year student’s hallway. A couple of minutes later, she was already in Elizabeth’s classroom, but the zombie girl was nowhere to see.

Disappointed, Yuriko turned around only to notice three girls approaching her. All of them used much more makeup than her, looking both stunning and intimidating at the same time. All of them Yuriko had seen hanging around Kou many times. And all of them had been glaring daggers at her for the whole evening in the classroom.

Oh gosh, no!

The girls were blocking the way back to their classroom. After some wild pondering, Yuriko turned tails and hurried towards the library. Giggles and steps followed her along with a rather unpleasant mix of three different perfumes.

To Yuriko’s distress, the library was as silent as ever. For once, she hoped there had been someone, anyone. Almost. A little breathless, she rushed between the shelves further in the space until suddenly she noticed a male standing in front of a window, staring into the night.

“Umh… Shin?”

The last meeting with the Founder hadn't gone too well, but right now, he offered a tiny sparkle of hope for Yuriko. She heard how steps behind her stopped. So, maybe the girls would leave if she kept talking to Shin, who turned around, glaring at her as if he wanted to remind her of their latest encounter. Yuriko flinched but didn’t back down. Maybe it was stupid, but she was more scared of the girls than the Founder.

“I really… umh… am sorry about the last time,” she mumbled. “I hope we can… put that behind us.”

“What makes you interested in me? We have no connection other than that one incident. Aren’t you Ruki’s little obedient prey?”

“Umh… I wouldn’t… use those words…”

Shifting in places, Yuriko tried to gather her thoughts. While she was at it, she listened to the sounds of the library. Hushed voices were discussing; Yuriko couldn’t make out the words, but she got the tone. The girls were unsure how to proceed now.

“Did you make a deal with him then? Kitsune blood for… what? Protection?”

“I…”

Hastily, Yuriko gazed around. The situation was bad enough already, the girls shouldn't hear them.

"They are leaving," Shin said as if he knew what was happening. Yuriko nodded and swallowed.

“I live with him,” she whispered the secret she had yet to tell Elizabeth. “He is my… boyfriend.” The word boyfriend made Yuriko remember something now that the imminent danger had passed. A tiny smile rose on her lips. While she knew it wasn’t any of her business, she couldn’t help but think how happy Elizabeth would be if things would take a turn in the right direction. “Umh… Shin. You know the girl I was with the last time?”

“Yes. Elizabeth, the stalker, Virnien.”

Stepping closer, Yuriko smiled again. She nodded slowly, wanting to show Shin that she hadn’t anything bad in her mind. She simply wanted to help her friend a bit.

“Her methods… umh… I guess they can be somewhat peculiar, but she means well, I’m sure.” Now the smile on Yuriko’s face spread wider. “She is so friendly and sweet; she truly is amazing. Maybe you’ll realize that someday. You should give her a chance~ Or even ask her out, you know? I bet she would love that.”

Oh my gosh! Now I said too much!

Heat covered Yuriko’s face as she realized she had been blabbering to Shin, who didn’t seem even a bit interested in her thoughts. If anything, there was a slight annoyance lingering around him.

“Why is there always nonsense when you appear in front of me, Yuriko? What do you care about this or anything else?”

“Eh…? I just want to be friendly… and get along with everyone. Also, help Eli-chan, because she has helped me a lot.”

“So, you are a simple idiot. No wonder Ruki was able to capture you. Your stupidity explains a lot.”

With that, Shin rushed past Yuriko and left her standing alone in the library.

I said something wrong… right?

Of course, there wasn’t an answer. Yuriko sighed, leaning her back against a bookshelf. At least the library was now hers alone; she could stay here until the time for the last class would come. The silence was music to her ears after noisy hallways full of students, and the pleasant scent of books embraced her as gently as ever. Or would have… but just in that very moment, a sappy fragrance sailed into her nose.

“So, you want to get along with everyone, Little Bitch~”

Yuriko almost jumped as the high-pitched voice reached her ears. She straightened up and glanced around, not seeing anyone. Yet cold shivers ran down her body. And just when she was about to run from the library, the emerald eyes appeared in front of her. Hands landed on each side of her head. The male leaned in, sniffing the air around her.

“Your scent has changed. Ruki-kun has made you his, fufu~ This makes everything even more fun~”

Yuriko lifted her hands, pressing them against Sakamaki boy's shoulders. She pushed with all her might, yet the pureblooded vampire didn't flinch. The green, gleaming eyes came closer and closer, thin lips opening and revealing a sharp pair of fangs.

"I wonder what you taste like now… Too bad I couldn’t have a sip earlier, nfu~"

"You can't have it now either! I… I… belong to Ruki. He is the only one who… who can bite me!"

Yuriko lifted her leg, stomping it down directly to Laito’s toes, but not even that made him back down. He simply laughed at her, inching his face towards her neck.

"I'm going to take a long and slow sip of your blood, Little Bitch~ Moan all you want, make noises for me, fufu. Let me hear how you cry for Ruki-kun~"

As tears rose to her eyes, Yuriko kept pushing the Sakamaki boy away. Yet she couldn’t help the closing fangs or the tongue that slid along her neck. A high-pitched moan reached her ears, and he pressed forward. The smell of sappy cologne dulled Yuriko’s senses, making her head spin and her stomach turn. A hard hand left the shelf and grabbed her waist, forcing her hips against his. Even through her skirt, she could feel how much the Sakamaki was enjoying her presence. She started to squirm and hit his shoulders over and over again, wishing him to disappear from the surface of the Earth.

“Come on, Little Bitch, moan and cry a bit, fufu~”

"No… please, don’t do this…"

“Oi! Hands off on Ruki’s prey!”

The Sakamaki boy’s grasp released Yuriko. He flew across the corridor. With a thud, a book fell off the bookshelf.

Then another.

And another.

More.

Yuriko’s legs gave up, and she glided down, trembling all over. Why? Why did the Sakamaki boy always come after her?

“Yuriko-san… I am sorry…”

“Not nice, M-kitsune-chan, leaving Azusa-kun like that. Ruki-kun isn’t going to like this when he hears that you disobeyed him.”

“I… I… I… just wanted to see… Eli-chan…”

A low growl and loud cursing drowned Yuriko’s shaking voice.

A curtain of tears almost blinded Yuriko. Still, she saw it. Yuma and the Sakamaki boy. At each other’s throat.

All because of Yuriko.

Because she had sneaked away.

So stupid… a huge mistake.

Azusa reached out, and Yuriko took his hand, letting him pull her up, but her eyes couldn’t leave the scene as Yuma was trying to hold back the Sakamaki boy.

“I… I… am sorry. I didn’t mean to cause any harm…”

“We should go home. Yuma-kun, let’s leave.”

“I’m just gonna give this spoiled brat a bit of what he deserves!”

“We… need to… take care of… Yuriko-san…”

“Azusa-kun is right, Yuma-kun. He’ll teleport M-kitsune-chan to the limousine while I’ll get our stuff. You should leave the jerk to be.”

If Yuma objected, Yuriko didn’t hear that anymore. The world around her twitched and whirled, turning her stomach upside down. It forced her to cling to Azusa until her back met the soft seat of the limousine. She yelped and released her grasp, whimpering against the seat, as Kou and Yuma appeared in the car as well. Kou dropped all the school bags on the floor and slid into a sitting position along with Yuma who still radiated angriness.

Yuriko nibbled her bottom lip, feeling the unwanted touch on her skin. She remembered perfectly well what had happened after the last time Sakamaki Laito had attacked her. Shaking her head, she tried to push disturbing thoughts away. She should focus on the diary and figuring out things with Yuuto. This evening had been simply a series of misfortunes.

“Damn those aristocrat bastards! We should punch the air out of ‘em!”

Yuma’s yelling made Yuriko flinch. She blinked, staring at the ceiling of the limousine. She had caused such a problem only because she had wanted to see her friend…

Suddenly, Kou leaned in. Yuriko turned her head to meet the light blue, curious eyes. The right one was covered with Kou’s blond hair, yet she was sure she saw a quick red glimmer. What on Earth —?

“You reek of a Founder too, M-kitsune-chan.” There wasn’t a hint of joking in Kou’s voice. “Ruki-kun won’t like that either. What were you doing in that library?”

“Umh… Shin just happened to be there when I entered…” …and he kind of saved me from your fans but I can’t tell you that… Yuriko swallowed. “My friend, Eli-chan… umh… likes him… so… We talked briefly. Nothing happened. I’m not interested in him…”

“Then why is your heart jumping like this?”

Because you intimidate me…

Yuriko let her gaze sink toward the floor. She couldn’t explain anything. It was not like she was interested in Shin, but she was worried because she had seen him in such a bad state weeks ago. Yet that wasn’t her secret to tell, and she probably had already said too much about Elizabeth.

Before Kou had time to interrogate her more, the limousine reached the Mukami manor. Yuriko grabbed her bag and hurried out of the car. She was almost sure someone would try to stop her, but the brothers let her step out without saying anything.

“Welcome home, Yuriko.” The icy voice made Yuriko stop right then and there. First, her gaze met the shoes, and as she slowly lifted her face, she saw that Ruki wore his home clothes, staring at her with stern and angry eyes.

Cold fingers grabbed Yuriko’s wrist. Ruki pulled her along him. Inside. To upstairs.

Into his bedroom.

Out of breath, Yuriko let her school bag slip from her fingers. The memories of cold water washed over her.

“Umh… Ruki…”

“Kou texted me and told me about your foolishness, Livestock.”

With a swift pull, Ruki hauled Yuriko against his chest. The bridge of his nose curled slightly.

“That Sakamaki Laito and Tsukinami Shin too. You dared to run to them the first day I was not there.”

“But… but… I didn’t…!”

“I can smell them both on your skin. I must wash away any traces of them.”

Not again…

But before Yuriko could even say anything, the air whirled around them. The squeezing feeling ran through her, and they were in the bathroom. Ruki shoved her toward the shower, grabbing the showerhead in his hand.

“Ruki, please…”

"How many times do I have to tell you to stay away from those filthy dogs? You are such troublesome livestock. Haah... It seems I have to repeat your training. Disobedient livestock has to learn its place. Do not ever dare to defy your master's command again. Understood?"

“I’m not livestock, I’m a human being!”

This was too much. Yuriko had done nothing wrong.

“Right now, you are nothing but livestock.” Ruki’s voice was as cold as the freezing water.

Yuriko gasped. Her cardigan turned heavy. Dress shirt glued on her skin, skirt on her thighs.

Soaked. Completely soaked.

With ice-cold water.

“I will wash any traces they have left on you, and after that, I will make sure you will remember who your one and only master is.”

Yuriko wheezed and shivered, trying to dodge the icy water. It splashed around her from the wall of the bathroom, covering her glasses with tiny dots that made it difficult to see around.

Stuttering, Yuriko tried to push past Ruki. He grabbed her arm, shoving her back to the corner.

“I… I… I only wanted to see… Eli-chan!” Yuriko’s quivering voice echoed from the tile walls, mixing with the sound of the shower. She tried to explain her reasoning, but water drowned her voice while her curls ran on her face, and damp clothes made her feel colder than ever.

Yuriko slid down on her knees on the floor, covering her head with her hands as hot tears burst out.

The only warmth she had right now.

“Ruki… please… stop… I can’t… It’s too much! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Please, I beg you!”

Shaking all over, Yuriko whimpered and whined. Coldness sank through her skin, deep within her muscles as the water kept pouring over her.

"I was going to go back but Kou-kun's fans…!" Sobbing, Yuriko tried to gaze up. The water hit her face, and she couldn’t see anything. With trembling fingers, she reached for Ruki, until she met his pants and curled her digits around the fabric. "Please… I'm sorry… I didn’t mean to cause any harm…"

Suddenly, the water stopped.

Silence in the bathroom was almost painful.

Ruki stepped past Yuriko, forcing her to release her grip by simply moving. He put the showerhead back into its place and crouched next to her. "Can you not see that you caused all this to yourself? You forced your master to purge you by seeking the company of those two. I cannot leave you for a single moment if you are like this."

Yanking Yuriko more upwards, Ruki shoved her cardigan down her shoulders. The loosely tied ribbon went flying, and so did the buttons of her shirt as he tore it open.

Yuriko’s skin was so numb from the water that the touch of Ruki’s fingers didn't feel cold anymore as he pushed aside the strap of her bra, tearing the lace as he removed every single piece of clothing from her upper body.

Before Yuriko realized it, Ruki had even torn away her glasses. Not that it made the situation any worse since she hadn’t been able to see through them anyway. And her mind was going as blurry as her view. How had things escalated this way? Was it everything her fault after all? If she only had been better… the good girl Ruki wanted her to be… But now he didn’t see her as such. She had failed completely…

Without a warning, Ruki pierced Yuriko’s neck.

CG edit made by @cutelih

The grunting sound vibrated on Yuriko’s skin. Sobs turned into cries.

Harsh sucks. Blinding pain.

"Ngh… Never forget who your master is."

"I… I… don’t … Oh my gosh, Ruki! You're hurting me!"

Yuriko pressed her palms against Ruki’s shoulders, but the strength had already left her. All she could do was whimper in his grasp as rough blood-sucking turned slowly into softer lapping.

Ruki’s tongue slid over the fresh bite mark, sealing it yet not completely healing it. Judging by the intensity, Yuriko was sure that her skin would have blue shades around the bite when she would wake up in the morning.

“You drive me crazy, Yuriko. I cannot let them have you…”

“Nobody else is going to have me… Ruki… I simply… I simply wanted to see Eli-chan, but things happened…”

But did Ruki even listen to her? Yuriko had no idea, for she was sinking into a whirlpool of pain and regret.

Ruki stood up, pulling the girl onto her shaking legs by her arm. The remains of her clothes dripped water on the tile floor as she shivered in front of him. Without words, Ruki yanked the skirt down and the rest soon followed, forming a pile between them.

As she stood naked in the middle of the bathroom, Yuriko wrapped her arms around her body. Not to hide, for Ruki had already seen her, but trying to gather a little warmth. Ruki took her arm again, pressed her against his cold body, and once more, air whirled around them. When he released his grip, Yuriko stumbled into her own room.

Roaming to the closet, Yuriko started to dress up in the warmest clothes she had, shudders running all over her body and covering her skin with tiny bumps. She pulled on shorts, for once wishing she would have more pants, but even her running leggings were probably still at her former home. It was impossible to avoid quivering as she zipped her hoodie all the way to her neck and put on the thigh-high socks, she usually wore when the weather was colder. Still, it felt like the coldness had rooted deep into her bones.

The second Yuriko stopped dressing up, Ruki grabbed her arm again and dragged her out to the hallway and into his room. The door slammed shut behind them. Yuriko turned around to face Ruki but couldn’t find any kind of emotion on his face.

“You are not to leave my room unless I give you permission to do so.”

“But Ruki… I need to go to school… My grades… I can’t fail again…” Even if Keisuke wouldn’t care anymore about Yuriko’s education, she still wanted to finish high school and move forward with her life. But if Ruki didn’t allow her to go to school, she would be doomed to fail once more.

“Perhaps that is something you should have considered before you decided to disobey.” Ruki’s words lingered between them in the otherwise silent room.

Blinking, Yuriko could barely hold back the tears that burned in the corners of her eyes. Yet a tiny sob escaped.

“Haa… I will make sure that you do not fail your studies, but for now, you will stay here. I cannot allow other men to even look at you.” With that, Ruki was gone from the room, and only silence remained as Yuriko climbed to his bed and covered her still shaking body with the blanket.

Beta read by @ruki-mukami-dl