He was coming home soon and that was all that mattered right now. The house was dark, making it seem as if you weren’t home. You lay on the bed, imagining him already home. Trying to remember when last he kissed you, touched you. You’re restless and you hope he’s not too tired from his trip.
You’re so engulfed in the thought of him that you don’t hear the front door open. You sit up quickly, not expecting him home so soon. You’re not even dressed in what you had picked out.
“Y/N?” he calls for you. How nice it was not to hear his voice through a phone. You almost answer him. You’re only in a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. So much for this plan of a seductive surprise.
You get in bed, pulling the covers over you. He opens the door, flicking on the light and you don’t make a move. He sighs, disappointed to see that nothing is prepared for him. But he moves beside you, hand on your cheek. You feel him lightly kiss your lips and forehead affectionately and you fight yourself to not hold onto him.
“I’m home,” he whispers and you release a heavy sigh as if you’re in a deep sleep. He heads into the bathroom and once the water runs, you throw off the covers to get ready.
You can’t pick between the red, blue, or black lingerie. But you have no time. You choose the red one. You remove the pins from your hair, letting the curls down while hoping they’ll still have some life in them tomorrow. You apply light makeup, nearly messing up your winged eyeliner when you hear the water stop. You pull on your pajamas that cover you from head to toe and jump in bed.
When the door opens, you sit up sleepily, “B/N?” You keep your eyes on his, fully aware of what’s beneath that towel wrapped around his waist.
He smiles, walking towards you, “Did I wake you?” the room is too dark to see the details of your face, but he touches your hair, knowing it wasn’t like this ten minutes ago. His skin is still warm and damp. You’re this close to forfeiting your plans.
He kisses you longingly, while lightly sniffing you after, “Are you wearing perfume to bed?”
“Figured you’d be home, wanted to smell good while I slept,”
He laughs because that’s something you’d probably do, “Give me five minutes and I’ll join you,” He goes back into the bathroom after getting his clothes, probably thinking you’re both about to go to sleep. You place two chairs in the room, tapping your computer to play the song. Thanks to the enhanced external speakers, the sound flooded the room from all corners. You sit crosslegged on the bed as you wait for him.
You’re nervous, having never done this before. Will he laugh at you and not take you seriously? What if he’s really tired and not in the mood? What if he doesn’t like this sort of thing?
You’re about to change your mind when he opens the door, looking around for the source of the music, “Why are you sitting there? You’re not tired anymore?”
He stands before you, pushing against the bed with his knees, “Then what?” You shrug, “Can I get a hug at least?” he asks and you shake your head. He trails his fingers down your arm and you fight the shiver that follows, “No? Why not?”
“You have to work for it,” you don’t sound as sultry as you’d like, but the music helps out. Slowly you uncross your legs, gently kicking him back to where his leg bumps the chair. The light is dim, which allows him to see you a bit more clearly. He’s still standing.
“What? Do I have to spell it out. Sit,” and he does. You like your tone now. Commanding yet suggestive. Of course he’ll do as you say.
“What’s going on?” he smiles, but you can sense his curiosity. You hold the rope you had behind your back.
Now he laughs nervously, “Wow, didn’t know you were into that kind of stuff Y/N,”
“Behave yourself,” you tie his wrist behind his back, “Is it too tight?”
“More like not tight enough,” he says and you smack his arm as he laughs, “I don’t need these, I can control myself,”
“Where’s the fun in that?” You sit on the bed, completely nervous now. If there was no music you’d fail completely. But he’s patient, watching you with unwavering eyes. The movies were way easier than this.
You had put together a good playlist, so the next song to play fills you with confidence. How many times have you danced to this song?
You follow the simple choreography you put together in your head. Movements that aren’t difficult, that emphasizes every word. You walk to the beat of the music as you sit in the chair. Still in your pajamas, you put your hands on your knees, spreading your legs before bringing them back together as he smirks at you. Leaning your head back, you ruffle your hair up before standing. You’re close to him, but he still can’t touch you.
You continue to dance, sliding down the chair. Your back is facing him as you teasingly pull your shorts down. You walk out of them without tripping. Perfect. You sit in your chair, kicking your shorts that hit him in the face.
“I want to die…” you whisper to yourself.
The shorts fall off of his face, but he’s still watching you. Walking towards him, you sit on his lap, with your back towards him. He’s in boxers, but he’s not excited enough yet.
Slowly, you pull your shirt over your head, displayed now in your red bra and panties. You will channel your inner Dita von Teese. You bend forward, your movements slow and purposeful. You stand up, parting your legs as you bend even deeper, your hands touching your ankles.
You turn around, allowing him to get a good look at you. You tilt your head to the side, posing for him.
“Do you like what you see?” you ask.
“Oh really?” you place your foot on the chair between his legs, “Cause last I checked, you didn’t seem too excited,”
He bites his lip, glancing from you to where your foot is.
Lightly, you rest your foot on his thigh, slowly dragging it to the center.
“Is he not happy to see me?”
“You know I am,” his voice is husky, watching your movements carefully.
You inch closer, until you can feel the stiffness beneath your toes.
“There we go,”
He’s breathing a little heavier now, his eyes looking you up and down, lingering on all the right areas. His lust for you fills you with satisfaction.
The power of a woman.
You lightly caress yourself, loving the look in his eyes. How you missed teasing him.
You step towards him, realizing how much you enjoyed playing a seductress.
You hear him sigh once you take a seat on his lap once more, this time facing him. He’s ready for you. He leans forward in an attempt to kiss you, but you turn your face to the side, his lips connecting with your jaw. He takes this window of opportunity to kiss your neck, burying his face into you.
You almost give in. But you take hold of his chin, “Uh uh,” He sighs, sitting back, “You listen well,”
Slowly, you move your hips back and forth, focused on rising him up and not yourself. His jaw is tight, his gaze piercing, the muscles in his arms flexing. You speed up your pace, but drag your hips against his.
“Did you miss me?”
His eyes flutter before he closes them in defeat with a sigh, leaning his head back, “Fuck, I missed you,”
You kiss his exposed neck, one of your favorite places on him to kiss. He held out well. He lifts his head up and you reward him with a kiss on his lips, but he’s ravenous.
You slide from his lap to the floor, your hands on his thighs. You peak through the hole in his boxers, reminding yourself that this is to tease him, not to please him.
You remove yourself from him, seeing him lurch forward.
“Oh, bad boy,” you turn your back towards him, “I was gonna free you but you’re just so eager,” you unhook your bra, sliding the straps off your shoulders. Covering your breasts with one hand, you look over your shoulder, tossing your bra to him.
“Y/N, you can’t do this to me,”
“But I like it when you watch me,” you face him, revealing yourself as you lean against the bed. His eyes are stuck at one place and the way that he looks at you is arousing in itself.
“My wrists are hurting. Untie me,”
“Where’s your self control?”
“I have none,” he admits without hesitation, “Untie me, please untie me,”
You linger for a moment longer before you walk behind him. With a smile, you glide your hand down his chest, before reaching inside his boxers. He sighs, the feel of him is your own last straw. You sit on him, reaching around him to untie the rope.
As soon as he’s free, he pulls you against him even closer, his mouth on yours. He doesn’t know where to put his hands or his lips next, but he picks you up, walking you to the bed.
“What did you think?” you manage to ask him as his mouth trails over your nipples. You’re feeling so many sensations at once, you can hardly think straight.
“You’re so cruel to me, Y/N,” he’s kissing you all over. His fingers tug at your underwear, his face buried against your neck, “I love you, but you’re so cruel,”
Part two of my honest headcanon on what would’ve happened had Naraku never interfered with InuKik (part one here).
Because the jewel failed to be purified, Kikyo still has to protect it and therefore is still often being targeting by evil youkai/people.
We’re all familiar with Inuyasha’s drive to protect his girl, and being human doesn’t change or stop that (see: Peach Man arc). But now that he’s been made human permanently, he doesn’t just have to survive until dawn and then rely on his youki to heal him–he has to heal slowly like any other human.
And if he really gets himself into one, he might not make it long enough.
So…yeah. I think Kikyo would ask him not to get involved, but he’d try to do it anyways because he just wants to keep her safe…and without his former youkai powers, it ends up leading to his death.