#you might have taken 'you take your pleasures where you can when life is good. to expect anything more would be reckless' from me

[proffbon]

AAAAAAAAAGH ❤️

[2hightocare]

NO NUT NOVEMBER.

Synopsis: Jungkook didn’t think stuff through when he made a bet for “No Nut November” he seemed to forget that he can’t say no to you.

Pairings: dilf!jungkook x fem!reader

Warnings— SMUT! cussing, kind of drunk sex?, dirty talk, anal, squirting, spanking, size kink!!!!, jk is pussy whipped, jk eating you out, fingering, creampie, unprotected sex (wrap it up!!) rough sex!!, crying from pleasure, hair pulling, fluff at the very end,

a/n: someone lock me the fuck up… this is in the KUWTB universe, jus wanted to get into jk and oc sex life more… enjoy🥹🤍

m.list

“I am not betting a thousand on Jungkook for no nut; November be fucking for real; he’s going to lose twenty minutes in.” Namjoon says knowing his friend and knowing how you have him wrapped around your pinky will have him losing money.

“I can go a whole month without sex, motherfuckers.” Jungkook gasps, running a hand through his wet hair from his previous shower.

It was Halloween night, and the boys just came back from accompanying Iseul and Ye Joon trick or treating down the neighborhood.

“I’m taking my baby to the rich neighborhoods so she can get the full-size candy bars.” Jungkook squeezes Iseul's cheeks, trying to avoid the cute bunny face paint you had drawn on. Your husband, without thinking twice, matched her outfit with the big fluffy bunny ears on the top of his head, bobbing on his head whenever he would move around.

"You literally live in a rich neighborhood.” Ari scolds, sending Jungkook's arm flying up in his defense.

"Trust, I won’t fuck up!” Jungkook defends himself while the boys have a hard time believing him; the boys only sighed before agreeing.

…

 

Jungkook couldn’t do it; his dick immediately hardened as he saw you walking down the stairs in your playboy bunny costume, the small black leather skirt that barely covers your ass, and your black thong visible to everyone. The black long-sleeve crop top and the bunny ears had him stressing and wishing he wouldn’t have made that bet.

“Fuck, you look beautiful, baby." Jungkook wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you in possessively. His hand lowered to your ass before giving a soft squeeze; you didn’t even bat an eye.

“Thank you, my love.” You give him a quick peck before looking down at his all-black outfit. “You look handsome, daddy,” you wink before walking to the kitchen where Eunbi and Jia were.

You had taken a new habit of calling Jungkook Daddy a joke, and he knew that, but right now the word just worsened the hard problem he has in his pants.

It’s around three in the morning now, and the house is a mess. Iseul is staying with your mother-in-law, who volunteered to take care of her for the night. You were definitely drunk; Ari and Lora came in the house already fucked up, and them being bad influences made you and all the girls take shot after shot, so here you were dancing in your living room as the guys sat on the couch watching you all.

“I think I might owe you all a thousand." Jungkook sighs at his friends. Who’s head snaps at him in shock? “You fucking lost already; are you serious? It's been like three hours!?” Seokjin gasps, and Jimin giggles beside him.

That’s when everyone pulls their wallets and drops wads of cash in Jimin's hands. “I fucking told you he wouldn’t last." Jimin snickers as he counts the money in his hands.

“You guys have no faith in me! I haven’t done anything."Jungkook whispers the last part, "Oh." Jimin says he is disappointed before handing the money back to the corresponding boys.

“Then why do you say that?" Hoseok sighs, putting the hundred back in his wallet before tucking it in his back pocket.

“She’s dressed as a playboy bunny!! A sexy ass playboy bunny.” Jungkook whispers, “Please come on; you would fuck y/n in a garbage bag.” Yoongi says, before sending a signal to Eunbi to stop drinking, to which she only nods 'no', making Yoongi stand up and march her way.

“She would look good in anything—better without anything, actually.” Jungkook says as he sees you down, another shot making him shoot up his seat.

“No more alcohol for you, baby.” He takes the shot glass out of your hands, putting his arm around your waist to keep you stabilized. "Babyyy,” you pout, looking up at him, fisting his shirt, and pulling him closer to your face. 

“What princess?” He says softly, your faces almost touching each other; he can smell the alcohol. “I’m so drunk.” You slur with a goofy smile on your face, gripping onto his shoulders, raising your legs behind you, and reaching for your heel, making you stumble backwards just for Yoongi and Jungkook to stabilize you.

"Yeah, we’re leaving,” Yoongi says as he holds onto Eunbi, who’s slurring a bunch of nonsense, “but I don’t want to leave!" Eunbi whines as Yoongi chuckles as he drags her to the front door.

“We should leave too, then,” all the boys say, standing up and wishing everyone goodbye. “Let’s go, my love,” Taehyung tells Ari, who’s lying on the ground, her police officer outfit long gone, replaced with the big t-shirt you had handed her earlier.

"Nooo, I want to stay with y/n!” She gets picked up by Taehyung, who shushes her with a kiss. “You reek like alcohol,” he chuckles before giving Jungkook a head nod and walking out, Jimin and Namjoon following behind them, being the last ones out, the rest long gone.

Jungkook lays you on the couch, kneeling down, unstrapping your heels, and taking them off before kissing the top of your shin. Making you moan in relief.

“My feet hurt so bad!” You whine loudly before bringing your feet into your chest, making your skirt ride up, giving Jungkook a perfect view of your covered pussy. 

He wanted nothing to open your legs, put your panties aside, and eat you out at that moment, but one, you were drunk, and two, the stupid bet he made yesterday. So instead of doing all that, he stood up and made his way to the main door, locking it before making his way back to you, taking his dirty shirt off in the process.

“You are so hot... Could you maybe have my baby?” You pout, looking up at him, who’s hovering over you with a smile on his face. “You already had my baby, princess.” He chuckles at you, making grabby hands up at him.

“Then another one?” You slur with the goofiest smile on your face as he picks you up, your legs immediately wrapping around his torso as your arms wrap around his neck. “You would slap yourself if you heard yourself right now, baby.” He laughs as you snuggle your face into his neck. 

“If it’s a girl, what would we name her?” You slur your words as Jungkook starts making his way upstairs to your guy's room. “I don’t know, princess, do you know?” He asks you, taking one step at a time. 

“I like Nabi," you giggle. “I like Nabi.” Jungkook repeats after you, giving your puffed-out cheek a wet kiss. “And if it’s a boy, we can name it Junior.” Jungkook suggests entering your guys room.

“Ew no!” You shake your head, sticking your tongue out like you just ate something disgusting. “That’s offensive; you don’t like my name?” Jungkook puts you gently on the bed, crossing his arms in front of him, making his muscles flex as he watches you bite your lip while you look up to him.

“Of course I do. It’s just that’s the name I scream out when I’m getting railed. I don’t want my son to have that name." You shiver from the thought, leaving Jungkook speechless from your boldness.

“Y/n!” He chokes out, "What? I’m being honest!” You slur, trying to put your shirt over your head, only to get stuck with your hands up in the air. “Help me!" you whine.

Your husband laughs immediately, helping you take your shirt off before throwing it somewhere in the room. He watches you struggle to reach behind you to unclip your bra. 

“Turn around, baby; let me help.” He orders, and who are you to say no?

“Mkay,” you say, turning around and letting Jungkook unclip it with his hand, making your bra drop onto the bed. And with that, you fall face-first into the bed. "Yeah, no, get up. We need to brush your teeth and take your makeup off. Come on.” Jungkook picks up your frame as you whine loudly. 

As Jungkook drags you to your guy's shared bathroom in only your skirt, Jungkook sets you up on the sink, and you bring your knees up against you again, making Jungkook want to run into a wall.

Seeing you with your smudge eyeliner and mascara has his thoughts running wild. You are topless, and the tiniest skirt he has ever seen you wear has him imagining how he could bend you over, lift your skirt up, and fuck you raw.

He shakes his thoughts off, getting your light pink toothbrush and lathering it with toothpaste before passing it to you. You lazily brush your teeth with your eyes closed, making small sounds at random times as Jungkook brushes his teeth as well.

“I'm dizzy.. My head is spinning.” You giggle as toothpaste is still in your mouth before spitting it out. Jungkook makes a little bowl with his hand, putting his palm underneath the water and accumulating a good amount before bringing it into your mouth, which you then swish around your mouth before spitting it out into the sink.

“All done," you clap your hands, trying to get off the counter.

“You need to take your makeup off; where are your makeup wipes?” Jungkook asks as he goes through all your skincare and makeup.

“How the fuck do you know what a makeup wipe is?" You slur, your brows furrowing, as you wrap your arms around your legs and up your chest. “Baby what?” Jungkook laughs at your question, knowing he has taken off your makeup countless times before this one.

“I'm mad now.” You pout, pushing your husband's hands off your knees. "Baby, please, I have only taken your makeup off. I promise." Jungkook raises his pinky, which you only glare at.

“Did you fuck her in the legs-up position? Because that’s our position.” You slur once again, making Jungkook chuckle in front of you.

“Baby, trust me, I would not fuck anyone in any position that isn’t you,” he reassures as you stare at his pinky that’s still in the air. “Okay,” you pout in defeat, interlocking your pinky with his.

“You can’t be lying because that’s a pinky promise,” you warn. “Of course, baby,” he says, giving you a kiss on your forehead before opening the small packet. “Be gentle," you whine as you stare at your shirtless boyfriend, who takes a wipeout.

He only nods, holding your neck like a necklace to keep your head straight, and starts taking off your makeup. “I’m hungry,” you say as your eyes flutter closed.

“It’s three in the morning, princess; there's nothing open right now.” Jungkook smiles at your scrunched-up expression. “Did you eat all the cookies?" You peek your eye open. “Maybe..” Jungkook whispers, dropping the dirty wipe in the trash can beside him.

“What! You don’t even share with me anymore.” You mumble as Jungkook picks you up and makes his way to your shared bed, dropping you on it. “I share everything with you, baby,” he says as he undoes his pants to slide into bed with you.

You stare at your husband through your eyelashes as you struggle to take off your skirt. “Need help?” Jungkook chuckles under breath as his pants fall to the ground, leaving him in only a pair of black boxers, his print clearly visible.

"Mhm," you nod, biting your lip as you tilt your head to the side to get a better view in between his pants as he reaches for the zipper on your skirt, pulling it down. "Up, baby,” he orders. You do as he says and raise your bottom up, letting him pull your skirt off, leaving you in your thong.

Jungkook drops the skirt on the floor as he watches you lying on the bed with nothing but the black piece of clothing covering your center. His breath rises as he watches you reach between your legs and move your panties to the side, giving him a perfect view of you.

“I’m so wet, baby, help me,” you whine as you run a finger through your drenched slit. "Baby, I can’t,” he hushes as his dick twitches in his briefs. 

“I’m not that drunk anymore, I promise.” You mumble, giving your pussy a little slap. “Fuck,” you moan.

Jungkook very much wanted nothing but to slam into you in this exact moment, but did he really not have self-control when it came to you? He thought to himself.

"Please... if not, I’ll just fuck myself with my fingers.” You giggled, bringing your index and middle fingers up to your mouth, sucking and twirling your tongue on the tips, all while remaining eye contact with your husband, who’s fighting with himself whenever he wants to control himself or fuck you into the mattress.

But when Jungkook saw you insert a finger, he realized he didn’t have self-control when it came to you, and actually, he could give zero fucks about it, plus one thousand was nothing compared to you.

“Fuck it!” Jungkook grabbed a hold of your hands before pinning them up to your head, making you giggle loudly. “Hi.” You giggle as his face is just a few inches away from yours, and his eyes scan your face. “Hi.” He chuckles and smashes his lips against yours.

You moan softly as he wastes no time inserting his tongue into your mouth. His tongue glides along yours, making noise each time you part apart to breathe. Jungkook abandons your lips, moving to your neck, licking, sucking, and blowing.

“I want to eat you out,” he mumbles into your neck between sucking, leaving purplish red marks. He slowly makes his way down your body, all while remaining in eye contact with you. You use your elbows to prop yourself up, getting a clear view of your husband between your legs.

He chuckles, blowing a kiss to your clit making your hips buck forward, a choked moan leaves your mouth. “You’re dripping for me." He runs a finger through your puffy slit, spreading your arousal all over your pussy. 

You feel your wetness ooze down to your puckered hole and maybe even to the gray sheets underneath you. Jungkook tauntingly hovered over your aching center. “Please, fuck,” you buck your hips up again, making him pin you down.

Jungkook gives your cunt a long and slow lick, “shit.” You whine, your legs squeezing around his face, as he starts lapping on your clit, swirling and sucking. His saliva and your juices mixing together.

He pushes your legs up, spreading your pussy more for him. As he continues to suck harshly on your clit your fingers rake in his hair, pulling roughly whenever he would non-stop flick his tongue on your bud, making you shake. "Fuck, you’re going to make cum.” Your eyes roll back into your head.

Jungkooks cock is painfully hard in his briefs; he shifts from his position in hope to relieve some of the pressure, but it only twitches in return. Your husband brings his tattooed fingers in front of your face and says, "Suck.” He orders, and he doesn't have to ask twice.

You grab ahold of his hand and insert his three large fingers into your mouth, twirling your tongue on the tip and sucking like you would if you were on your knees in front of him.

A rush of blood rushes to his cock as he watches you suck on his fingers. You pop his fingers out of your mouth.

He tugs on your clit one last time before rubbing your sensitive bud slowly. You choke out a moan.

Jungkook inserts one of his finger pumping it in and out of your gummy walls, sending you back into the mattress. “Fuck yes,” you cry. He inserts a second finger, pumping them out quickly, curling them inside you, and hitting your spot each time. You grip tightly onto the sheet as you start to feel dizzy. “I’m coming, shit shit shit,” you cry out. You try to push Jungkook off you as he slides his fingers in and out of you repeatedly, with his tongue flicking your clit sending you over the edge.

Your mouth hangs open as your body shakes uncontrollably. Your pussy clenches around Jungkook's fingers. A rush of fluid squirts out of you, leaving you shaking and gasping for air.

“pretty.” Jungkook chuckles under his breath, giving your pussy a small slap and making you whine from the overstimulation.

Jungkook stands up, watching you squeeze your legs together with your eyes closed and chest heaving. “You good, baby?” He leans over, kissing your face over and over again until you peek your eyes open, and you giggle nonstop.

“Fuck!” You giggle, making Jungkook raise an eyebrow. “So good,” you giggle, “yeah?” He smirks, leaning in to give you a kiss.

“Mhm.” You nod, kissing him back. “Let me return the favor.” You reach for his huge hard on, squeezing.

“Let me just fuck you.” He whispers into your mouth as you giggle in response.

“Okay.” You nod. Jungkook slowly stands up from the bed as you watch him push down his briefs, letting his cock spring free. He grabs ahold of the base, giving it a squeeze, and runs his thumb along his aching red slit before walking closer to you. You bite your lip in anticipation, and you feel yourself getting wetter by the second.

He spits down, letting his saliva drip down onto his cock before giving it two pumps, “legs up. ” He taps your thigh for you to do as he says.

You giggle, pushing your legs up, giving your husband an amazing view of your drenched spread out, dripping core.

“Fuck,” he says, aligning himself with your hole and slapping his cock on your pussy multiple times. "Shit, ah,” you moan, digging your nails into your thighs.

Jungkook watches as you clench your pussy over nothing, making his cock twitch. He runs his length over your slit before sliding into you. “Oh shit.” You gasp, biting your lip harshly.

Jungkook has always been too big for you, always stretching you out deliciously every time you had sex. Your pussy always took him so well.

"Shit, shit, shit,” you say, closing your eyes as you feel the burn of him sliding deeper into you. “You can take it, baby.” He hushes, pushing in deeper, and he rubs your clit with his thumb, trying to ease you. 

You can feel him all the way into your belly as he finally is all the way in you. “You take me so well, fuck, baby.” Jungkook groans as you clench non-stop around him.

"Move, fuck, ah,” you cry. You didn’t have to ask twice, as he started sliding out of your hole before slamming back in. Your nails dig into your thighs, leaving marks as he continues to slide in and out of you repeatedly. 

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as he slams roughly into you. His hands push your legs down to your chest as he fucks into you, his cock spreading your walls and his tip hitting your g-spot with each thrust.

Jungkook watches his cock disappear into your messy wet cunt; he watches how you spasm every time he pounds into you; your pussy squirts every time he pulls out; but he doesn’t stop; he continues to slam back in.

Tears stream down your face from the immense pleasure in your core as you reach between your legs, rubbing your clit furiously. “Such a good fucking girl, taking my cock so well.” Jungkook says between gritted teeth, as you only reply with a moan.

“Look at you squirting all over my cock.” He pulls out, spurs of liquid come rushing out of you, and your legs shake as your pussy convulses from each spurt. “Ahh fuck.” You moan as Jungkook rubs your pussy; your hands reach for his, trying to push him away, but failing as you orgasm with a long, loud moan.

“Good girl.” He groans.

“I can't... fuck,” you choke out, trying to catch your breath. "Yes, you can." Jungkook flips you over to your stomach. “Ass up.” He demands giving your ass a spank. 

You bring your ass up in the air, leaving your upper body laying on the bed totally spent. “Fuck pussy, so messy." Jungkook runs his cock through your pussy before sliding back in.

"Shit, this angle fucks me up,” he groans, getting ahold of your waist and squeezing roughly, probably leaving marks, as he slams into you. You dig your head into the mattress, biting onto the sheets, silencing your screams. The wet sound of him pounding into you and your screams are the only things being heard in the room.

“You love being fucked like this, huh?” He moans, pounding into you from behind. You don’t reply. 

He pulls out and pulls your hair up. “Answer me. You love being fucked like this, huh?” He whispers into your ear, your back arched against him.

“Yes.” You cry, and tears stream down your face. “Yes what? Baby.” He chuckles from your disheveled state, “I love being fucked like this.” You stutter over your words; the only thing your brain can comprehend is that you wanted to come again for the third time.

And with that, he lets you go. As you fall back down onto the bed, Jungkook spreads your ass cheeks, watching your pussy and asshole clench over nothing. “Spread open.” He orders you.

Jungkook watches how you do as he says and spread yourself open for him. He takes the base of his cock and aligns himself with your other hole. He rubs over some of your arousal to your asshole, inserting the tip of his cock before pushing the rest of his length inside you, “Fuckk.” You moan loudly, "Relax, baby.” He groans loudly at how tight it is.

This is not the first time Jungkook has fucked your ass, but the stretch of his cock always feels like the first time. He stays for a few moments, still waiting for you to adjust. "Go," you whimper. A green light for him to thrust.

He spreads you open more, watching his cock slip out of your hole before thrusting back in slowly. You moan under him, and you reach under him, rubbing your clit softly as tears run down your cheeks.

“Such a good fucking girl.” Jungkook moans, squeezing your ass and restraining himself from pounding into you at that very moment.

You insert two of your fingers into your pussy, sliding them in and out as Jungkook slides his cock into your ass. "Faster, please,” you whine, fucking your fingers into you as Jungkook speeds up his movements.

Your legs shake barely holding up as he pounds into roughly moaning loudly each time you clench, “You fucking like that?” He chokes out each slam he thrusts into you. “Keep taking it, baby.” His balls slam into your pussy, which each push.

“Fuck so good.” He moans, not stopping his movements. Both of you are sweating as you bite down on the gray sheets, feeling your pussy spasms with liquid with each thrust. “I’m coming.” You shriek,

“Go ahead, baby.” Jungkook's eyes roll to the back of his head, watching you shake underneath him. His body locks up, and black and white spots fill his vision as his dick twitches in you before spilling his seed into you with a loud groan.

“Oh fuck.” Jungkook pants as he slides out of your ass, his come oozing out of you. You fall onto the bed, your legs shaking uncontrollably as you whimper softly from the outstanding orgasm you just went through.

"Fuck, are you okay, baby?” Jungkook makes his way to you, flipping you over to be able to see your face. You whimper softly with your hands covering your face. "Shit, baby, did I hurt you?” He panics, shooting straight up and taking your hands off your face.

He sees the tears streaming down your face, and that sends a blow to his heart. "Baby, where does it hurt?” He scans your body and tries to soothe your shaking legs, rubbing his palms up and down your thighs.

“I’m okay.” You whimper between cries. 

“Then why are you crying, my love?” He pulls you up into a sitting position before kissing your tear-stained cheeks. "felt so good.” You cry. A wave of relief hits Jungkook. "Baby," he chuckles, giving you kisses all over your face.

“I won’t be able to walk tomorrow.” You cry as he laughs softly while standing up, finding his briefs on the ground before stepping into them. He goes into your guys' shared closet looking for a pair of underwear for you and one of his shirts.

"Here, baby, let me help you.” He makes his way to you; he sits beside you as he helps you put on your panties and his shirt.

“Do you need anything?” Jungkook asks, putting your hair behind your ear. “No, I'm super tired; I want to cuddle.” You say snuggling under the covers with a big smile on your face, and Jungkook follows in beside you.

…

The next morning, Jungkook called in for an emergency meeting as he was waiting for the boys to come in. Taehyung arrives first with a guilty expression on his face, and before Jungkook could ask what’s up, Hoseok and Namjoon come striding in. And not long after all the boys started striding in.

“So..” Jungkook starts, “I fucked up.” And with that, he drops a thousand on the table in front of the boys. Nobody moves, and nobody says anything until,

"Oh, thank God, and I thought it was going to be just me." Taehyung drops a wad of cash, with the rest of the boys following along, dropping cash on the table.

“Are you fucking serious!?” Namjoon stares at his friends with his jaw wide open. “Am I the only one who took this seriously?” Namjoon shook his head at his friends.

“Honestly, I don't regret it at all.” Jungkook shrugs.

[zepskies]

Outlander - Part 3

Pairing: Dean Winchester x OFC��

Summary: Dean Winchester has been stripped of his military rank, but he’s living happier with his new wife, trying to adjust to a new life in her tribe. What will it take for her people to accept him, especially when the battle for her heart might not be completely won? 

AN: Back into the saddle, so to speak. 😏 Plus, we have a very special guest joining the cast...

Disclaimer: I first got inspired to write The Honorable Choice for @jacklesversebingo after a recent rewatch of Spirit: The Stallion of the Cimarron (with a tinge of Yellowstone in the mix). I’ve done a fair bit of research for this now ongoing series, both on the Native American Lakota tribe, and on American history during this time in the late 1800s; AKA: the Old West, during the American Indian Wars.

Jacklesverse Bingo24 Prompt: Western AU

Song Inspo: The Spirit Soundtrack

Word Count: 8.1K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, blood and character death.

🐎 Series Masterlist || Bingo Masterlist

Part 3: A Warrior’s Death

Mila has never enjoyed being an early riser, but sometimes, it has its benefits. In the rare times that she wakes up before Dean, she’s taken to counting the small nicks and scares that mark his body, from his chest and arms and back, down to his calloused hands. They mark him as a warrior.

Today, she slips her fingers through his brown hair. It’s grown a little more, and it’s easy to spike wildly in all directions. His breathing shifts from the deeper, slower ones of sleep to shallower ones.

“What’re you doing?” he grumbles, despite the way his lips twitch at a smile. His eyes are still closed. 

“It’s morning, and I’m lonely,” Mila teases. She leans in to kiss his chin, then slowly and sensuously across his prickly jawline.

“Can’t you entertain yourself until the sun comes up all the way?” he says, in a voice laden with grit and sleep.

“That is what I’m doing,” is her cheeky reply.

Dean releases a deep breath that’s more like a sigh. Mila continues, smoothing her hand across his shoulder and squeezing warmly as she makes her way down his neck with kisses. She takes to nibbling his skin, then soothing it with her tongue. He makes a throaty sound of pleasure, gripping her hip.

“Wake up, my love,” she whispers.

Dean feels the shape of her smile against his skin. His lips tug upwards too, before he chuckles and finally succumbs to her wily ways. He twists onto his back and takes her with him, guiding her leg to slip over his lap. She squeals in surprise to be moved, but it ends with her smiling down at him as she straddles his hips. His hands travel under her the thin fabric of her shift and squeeze the supple flesh of her thighs.

Her fingertips drag down his chest, teasing his nipples along the way. She begins to tease him in other ways too, subtly rolling her hips, rocking against his hardening length. She wears a heated, playful look he knows all too well. He smirks up at her lazily.

“You’ve been more demanding than usual,” he remarks. His hold on her hips tightens, encouraging her to grind down harder onto him. He groans in pleasure at the feeling of her bare, wet folds against his clothed erection. Still, he can’t help but tease her too. “You already got what you wanted. I got you good and pregnant.”

His knees slide up to press against her ass, angling her more firmly against his cock. She hums in pleasure at the feeling of him, nice and hard and ready to fill her. It doesn’t matter that he’s right.

She’s pregnant, and has been for over a month now, according to Eyota. Even so, Mila still craves her husband. She wants to take advantage of a good morning, one where she doesn’t feel sick to her stomach.

“Yes,” she agrees, “but you think that means your duty is done?”

She takes his hands from her thighs and moves them up her body underneath her shift, until he can palm her breasts. He obliges her, rolling the sensitive buds under his thumbs.

Dean chuckles deeply. “Haven’t you had enough?” 

“I will say when I’ve had enough,” she quips back. 

He smiles, more genuinely this time. “Yes, ma’am.”

He takes back control of his hands. One holds her steady by her waist, while the other drags back down her body, brushing over the thatch of hair covering her mound. His fingers slip between her wet folds, and they find what they’re looking for.

She utters a keening moan when the pads of his fingers probe gently at her entrance, pushing inside for a few pulsing beats. He gathers some wetness there and begins to circle the sensitive bundle of nerves above her entrance. She grinds her hips down as she tries to press into his hand. A shudder of pleasure tingles down her spine and throbs deliciously in her core.  

She grips his arms tight. “Please,” she says, “I’m ready for you.”

“Already?” he smirks. “I’ve barely touched you.”

Instead of answering him, she drags down his pants herself and reaches for his heavy cock. He moans at her touch, demanding, but still careful as she pumps him to full readiness. Then she notches him at her entrance. Dean grabs her hips and slowly guides her over him in one smooth plunge.

Their breathing becomes more labored as they take beat, just to revel in the connection.

During the day, they both lead busy lives. They each do their part for the tribe to make sure there’s food to eat, clothes to wear, and that the tribe stays protected—but the time they spend together here doesn’t need to be rushed. This is their time.

Mila hesitates to move though, her hands flexing on his shoulders. Her thighs squeeze his hips experimentally.

“How should I move?” she asks in a whisper. “I’ve never…ridden you.”

Dean grins. He rubs her thighs encouragingly. “Trust your instincts, baby. Try just rocking on me.”

He helps her by guiding her hips in a smooth, rolling rhythm, in and out. Mila moans as the shallow friction builds a slow momentum inside her.

“See,” he pants, “you’re a natural.”

She smiles, her face warming in a blush. As she craves more, she becomes bolder, letting his cock drag out of her almost to its tip, before she pushes all the way back in. Dean utters a faltering moan, and tries not to let his eyes close in pleasure. He wants to keep watching the way she gets herself off on his cock, the way her full breasts bounce with her movements.

Dean’s hands slide up her back to feel the gentle slope. He leans up to kiss and suck at her tightened nipples, his teeth catching on them. She gasps and arches against him. Her nails scramble for purchase between his shoulder blades.

Dean chuckles into her skin. “So sensitive. Being so fucking good for me, huh baby?”

Mila nods, half out of her mind. He blazes an upward path, kissing and sucking between her breasts, along the line of her collarbone, and then at her neck. He stops there to suck hard at her pulse point, burying his fingers tightly in her hair.

She moans and clings to him as she rocks a harder rhythm on top of him. She chases her release, and tries to help him reach his. But when his fingers slip in between them to massage her clit again, she shudders deeply and gasps. “Dean.” Her inner walls clench tightly on his cock and begin to flutter and pulse around him.

He drives his hips up into her with a few wild, harsher thrusts with his own release. He grunts sharply into her neck as he spills deep inside her.

Mila holds him tightly to her while her heart races. She pants for breath, huffing because her hair has fallen into her eyes. Dean brushes the strands behind her ear as he too catches his breath. He lays back down and takes her with him, gratefully stroking her back.

“Well, good morning,” he says. His voice is like hot gravel. “Fuckin’ hell…”

She giggles breathlessly against his chest. By now she’s learned many of the English curse words. They often sound both harsh and funny to her. Though she knows that right now, it’s a compliment.

They lay together for a while, even after she untangles herself from him and grabs a washcloth to clean them both. She finds herself led back into Dean’s embrace under the warm furs. His large hand spans her lower belly, resting there.

“You want a boy or a girl?” he asks. His deep voice is still a bit coarse with sleep.

Mila considers his question while pillowing her cheek against her folded arms.

“I want to give you a son,” she says.

Dean’s lips twitch into a smile. He hums thoughtfully while he slips his fingers through her hair.

“I guess that means I’ll have to teach him things. Things about the world,” he says. She turns in his arms to face him.

“What would you teach him?” she asks, with a smile of her own. She asks the question not only because she genuinely wants to know, but because she likes the soft glow of optimism and possibilities reflected in Dean’s eyes. In some ways, he’s already different from the hardened soldier she first met. Or maybe she’s just continuing to learn more and more of who he really is—layer by layer.

“Well, how to learn from his mistakes, for one thing,” he says. “How to protect himself, and his family. How to survive, but also how to live.” He thinks about it a bit harder for a second.

“Come to think of it, I’d teach my daughter all that too,” he says. “So I guess I’ve got no preference.”

And we can always try again, he thinks.

“He will be strong, like his father,” Mila says. 

“Or like his mother,” Dean playfully replies. She smiles back, and she leans forward to kiss his lips. She cups his cheek with a gentle, loving hand. Dean squeezes her waist and pulls her tighter against him.

“Are you two going to sleep all day, or are you going to join the rest of the world and start working?” Šóta interrupts, loudly from outside their tipi. “The horses need to be fed, Horsemaster.” 

Dean and Mila break apart from the kiss, and they share a look, hers more annoyed than his. Her cousin has taken what she said to him before about being a leader to heart, if in some unexpected (and annoying) ways. 

She sighs, but unfortunately, Šóta has a point. It prompts them to get up and start getting dressed. 

“What do you got planned today?” Dean asks, while he tries to find a clean shirt. 

“I have some mending to do and laundry to take down. Then I will help my aunts skin the hides and prepare the vegetables for lunch and supper,” she says.  

He pauses, leveling her with a warning look. “Hey, remember to take it easy, all right. Don’t strain yourself.”

She just smiles and touches his cheek. This man is a protector in all senses, and it seems, also a worrier.

Dean takes pride in corralling the horses and making sure they’re fed, brushed, and given water. Just like he suspected would happen, Mato and Baby have been getting along a little too well. She’s now pregnant too.

Ironically enough, it means she’ll give birth to her foal around the time Eyota believes Mila will deliver their child, maybe a month or two after.

Ain’t that just life, he thinks.

There’s another colt that Dean has spent the past week breaking in. He’s wily and precocious, giving Dean a challenge, but that’s what he likes about the guy. 

“You’ve got spirit, kid, I’ll give you that,” Dean says. 

He has a rawhide lead tied around the horse’s neck while he runs around the corral. He’s waiting until the horse tires himself out, so Dean can really begin training him, getting him used to a bridle, teaching him verbal cues, and all the rest. 

Back at Fort Laramie, there were those like Colonel Sanderson, who believed that breaking a horse meant you had to break his independence, his spirit. Dean’s father had always taught him that a bond between him and an animal, a bond based on trust, will serve him better with a loyal horse rather than just an obedient one. He’s glad that the Lakota here share his views on horse rearing. 

At about mid-morning, Chatan comes over to inspect Dean’s progress. His ankle has healed, mostly, but he’s allowed Dean to take over the harder work when it comes to breaking the horses. Chatan is still teaching him their ways in training them, making bridles and simple saddles, and all the other ways they care for their horses here. He inspects Dean’s work with the colt and nods. 

“You’re doing well,” he says. 

That’s a big improvement from all the times he’s given Dean some form of correction or instruction. Dean is about to reply, when Šóta and Takoda come over the hill on horseback. Šóta calls for both Chatan and Dean—especially Dean. 

“You should see this,” Šóta says. 

“Are the other men coming?” Dean says, keeping his voice low as Baby plods along beside Šóta.

“No,” Šóta replies. “We must keep the group small.” 

Dean namely meant Otaktay, who still tries his best to ignore him.

Takoda has warmed up to him more though. He doesn’t call him Outlander anymore, let alone wašíču. He’s also the tribe’s best fisherman, and when they eat lunch together, he’s started to save Dean the second-biggest fish after Šóta.

Takoda even showed him how to fletch his own arrows. And when Dean broke his whet stone while sharpening his knife, Takoda gave him his own whet stone.

“I make new one,” he said, in broken English, even with a smile. “This one old anyway.”

At first, Dean used to wonder why some people in the tribe seemed to have better English, like Mila, Tahatan, and Šóta, but others didn’t. After he thought about it more, he supposed he wouldn’t want to learn his enemy’s language. He asked Šóta about it once.

“It’s the opposite for me,” Šóta told him. “I want to know what my enemy says behind my back. Then, I will be ready when he strikes.”

He now leads them away from the forest and across the grasslands. In an hour, they reach a desert valley, where Dean already hears the construction. A new stretch of railroad is being laid out, courtesy of the U.S. government. Dean even spots Benny, Jack, and Colonel Sanderson himself supervising the construction. 

Shit, Dean thinks.

They stealthily crept back into the forest and returned to the village. They bring the news of what they saw to Chief Tahatan in his tipi. His wives are there, along with Chatan, Weaya, Mila, Eyota and her husband Hanska. The last two are the medicine man and woman of this tribe, but Hanska is also their wiseman. He advises the Chief.

“We should move the village again, farther north along the river,” Hanska suggests. 

“And what? They will keep pushing us back until there is nothing left—until we fall of the edge of the earth!” Šóta shouts. He’s getting more and more angry as the conversation becomes a deliberation on what to do next. 

“It’s the Northern Pacific Railroad,” Dean says. He doesn’t know if it’s place to speak, but he feels that he has to. “They mean to keep building until they reach the coast in the Northwest.” 

“See? They will rape more and more of the land to do it,” Šóta says. “Our land. We cannot let this stand.”

Dean gives him a wary look. “This is bigger than the tribe. If you try to hit them, they’re just gonna hit back harder. And they’re going to bring the full weight of the U.S. Army on top of you.”

“So what do you suggest we do, Dean Winchester?” Tahatan says. “Sit and do nothing while they continue to carve into our home, where we have lived and died for generations?”

“I think…you should look at the faces around you,” Dean says. “Ask yourself how many of them you’re willing to lose.”

That evening in the privacy of their tent, Dean tries his best to soothe Mila’s worry, but his own trepidation and sense of urgency wins out as he paces back and forth. 

“Just moving up the river won’t be enough,” he says. “We could go southwest into Montana, towards the Yellowstone River.”

Mila shakes her head warily. She sits by the fire and watches him cross the room again. He makes her anxious, and so she grabs onto his hand and leads him to sit beside her.

“The Crow people live along Yellowstone,” she says. “The Lakota have fought them for generations.” 

“About what?”

“Land,” she admits. “Our tribes are proud and do not like to share hunting territory. The Crow are bitter enemies. They will not accept us there.”

That is putting it mildly. She shudders to think what the Crow would do to them if they crossed paths in their own land. 

Dean nods. “Okay, well, what about if we go further north?”

She ponders the idea. Even though she doesn’t like the idea of leaving the river, where her people have settled for decades, she believes what he says is true. Her people wouldn’t win in a head-on fight against the U.S. Army.  

“East of Big Cheyenne, there is a bigger territory of land. Other Sioux tribes live there,” she says. “The path is long from here to there, but it could be the answer.”

“Okay, that’s good,” Dean nods. “…I just don’t know how Tahatan and the rest of ‘em are gonna take the idea coming from me. To them, I probably sound like a coward.”

Mila shakes her head and grasps his arm. “You are no coward, Dean. I will help you talk to my father. When he understands, then we will speak to my uncle.”

“And Šóta?” Dean says wryly. 

“Šóta is young and wants to prove himself to my uncle. He is brave and strong, but doesn’t consider what we could lose,” Mila says, holding a hand over the small swell of her stomach. Dean covers her hand with his. 

“Whatever comes next, I’m not letting anything happen to you. You understand?” he says.

Her face, and the tension in her shoulders, relax. She doesn’t quite manage to smile, but she rests her head against his shoulder. 

“Yes,” she nods. 

Days become a week, and the men of the tribe begin to notice Cavalry patrols edging closer to the village. Too close. 

Dean tries to convince Šóta to let them pass by in ignorance. Attacking them would not only heighten the risk of the military discovering Dean’s alive, but it would just put the entire tribe in more unnecessary danger. 

It’s getting harder and harder each day to persuade Šóta to stay his hand, so it becomes even more important to convince the Chief to mobilize the tribe.

While Dean and Mila manage to get Chatan to see the wisdom in the idea of moving the village north of the railroad, Tahatan isn’t so easily convinced that they should leave the river where their tribe has tilled the land, fed their families, built their traditions and their way of life. It’s understandable, but it leaves Dean with a worry in his gut that only grows with every new day.

Mornings are no longer peaceful for him, and while he knows Mila’s beginning to notice, it’s something he can’t help.

They dress for the day in silence after breakfast. He straps his gun to his right thigh and his knife on the other—a new precaution he’s started taking. 

“Don’t go past the corral by yourself,” he warns Mila, when he sees her piling up a bundle of clothes for washing. She glances up at him with raised brows. 

“I’m only going to the river,” she says.

“Take someone with you,” Dean says, shaking his head. “Like your mom, or a couple of your aunts. Hell, take Šóta with you. Or at least Takoda.”

She gives him a look that says she’s trying to be patient. “I will see if others have washing to do.”

Dean stops her with a hand on her arm. 

“Or you could wait ‘til I get back,” he says. “I don’t mind going with you.”

“Dean,” she replies, her brows furrowing. “I may be with child, but I don’t need a caretaker. I’ll be fine.”

Again he stops her from moving past him. “Hey. Just listen to me, damn it!”

She gives him a sharp, surprised look. He stops himself short and realizes he’s losing his temper. He takes a breath, his face tight with frustration. 

Mila frowns at him, trying to keep her own temper from rising to the surface. She knows he only wants to protect her, but nothing has even happened. Cavalry patrols haven’t gotten more than a couple of miles close to the village as the railroad construction continues. She’s begun to wonder if it’s necessary to move north after all. 

Dean sighs, raising his hands in apology. He gently grasps her arms and looks down at her, meeting her gaze. 

“Sorry,” he says. “Just…humor me, okay?”

Her brows furrow. “Humor? You want me to laugh at you?”

At that, he actually breaks into a chuckle. It eases some of his tension, but doesn’t completely expel his worry.

“What I mean is, I know how I’m being right now. I just want you to be safe,” he says, staring into her eyes. “Actually, I need it.”

Mila softens with a sigh. She reaches up and caresses his cheek, and she nods in agreement. She reaches up for his kiss, and he holds her tighter, more securely. 

Okay, he thinks. 

Dean leaves her to see to his responsibilities, caring for the horses, while Mila goes her own way to resume her daily chores. But when she asks her mother, Misae, and even Eyota if they want to go with her to the river, they say they’re too busy with other tasks to wash clothes. Her mother does give her an extra bundle to do for her though. 

So even though it makes her uneasy to go against Dean’s wishes, she carries the bundles by herself to the river. Honestly, she prefers to do this alone sometimes, so she can be alone with her thoughts. Dean’s being overcautious. 

Sure, it takes extra effort for her to get down on her knees at the riverbank, considering her protesting back, but she manages to do it. Because in her tribe, one does what they need to in order to live and eat.

She settles into her work after a few minutes, and bit by bit, she feels settled enough to relax. She even hums a little tune to herself. It’s part of a lullaby her mother used to sing to her when she was little, and now Mila sings it for her child, even before she gets to meet him…

Or her, she thinks, smiling to herself.

Her smile drops with a sharp inhale of breath. 

She hears hoof falls on the earth. A horse treads nearby. 

Slowly, she lowers the wet clothing back into the basin. She sees two reflections growing on the water: a horse and a man. The man gets down from his horse first. 

“Hey there, miss—”

Mila swiftly turns and unsheathes the knife she keeps strapped to her ankle. 

Dean finally takes the colt out for his first ride out in the open. He’s a little twitchy, but he responds well to Dean’s commands, enough that he chances leading the horse farther out of the village. 

Maybe he’ll join Šóta and the rest of the men. They’re likely planting in the fields today, some of the women too, if they’re done at the river. Dean thinks of Mila then, and he hopes she’s finished her work there. He wonders if she got her mother to go with her, or maybe a couple of her friends. They’re new mothers, just a few years older than her. 

I’ll just check on them, make sure everything’s on the up and up, Dean thinks. He guides the horse towards the river. He’s relaxed and focused on how the colt is behaving, until he hears a man’s voice on the wind. Dean looks up sharply and sees his wife there alone, crouched down on the riverbank. 

A man stands just a few feet away and towers over her. 

Dean’s gun is in his hand before he realizes it. With a small but purposeful kick, he urges the colt to a full gallop. 

The man seems to be approaching her, taking meaningful steps forward. Mila says something sharply to him as she brandishes her knife and prepares to use it. He stops short.

“Hey!” Dean shouts.

He aims for the dead center of the man’s chest. His hair is long enough to brush his shoulders and obscure his face, but the closer Dean gets, a certain twinge runs up his spine and triggers his senses.

When the man looks up and raises his hands in shocked surrender, it’s like a physical blow to Dean’s chest. The man staring back at him is broad-shouldered, slightly taller than him in his dark brown duster coat, Stetson hat, and boots. He’s scruffier than usual, but unmistakable; he too stares at Dean like he can’t believe his own eyes.

“Dean,” he says, a hint breathless. His gaze drifts from Dean’s face to his pointed gun. He chuckles. “You gonna shoot me?”

Slowly, Dean lowers his weapon. He quickly moves to Mila first and slips an arm around her waist to help her stand with him. He makes sure she’s all right by the silent conversation that passes between them, through their eyes.  

Then, he looks over at his brother and smiles, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Hey, Sam,” he says. His gaze roams over the younger man’s face, sporting what he’d call half a beard. “What the hell’s that ferret on your face?” 

Sam laughs. It ends with a too-bright smile that’s a little teary. Dean’s throat begins to close up on him a bit as well, but feeling Mila stir at his side, grasping his arm with a questioning look on her face, he gives her a reassuring look. 

“Sweetheart, this is my brother. Sam,” he says. 

Her eyes widen, but as she looks between the men, her face dawns with understanding. She smiles and releases him, only to guide him towards his brother with a gentle push. 

Dean needs no further encouragement. His grin widens as he goes to meet Sam, who’s already coming straight for him. They meet in a warm, solid embrace, even if they’re both still on shaky ground on the inside. Sam’s grip is just as strong and desperate as Dean’s is reassuring, cupping the back of his neck. 

“They told me you were dead, you bastard,” Sam says. His laughing words have a suspect shake in them.

“Yeah, my fault,” Dean says. He chuckles too, as if that can make this easier. “Why’d you come all the way out here?”

Sam pulls back after a moment. “Because I didn’t believe them.” 

Dean’s smile falls. How the hell is he going to explain this? To Sam, to the Chief and the rest of the tribe…

He notices Sam looking past him, and finally Dean remembers himself. He keeps a hand on Sam’s shoulder and beckons Mila over to them. She’s hesitant, but she trusts him. She goes to him and leans into his side while he wraps his arm around her waist. 

“Sammy, this is Mila…my wife,” he says. 

Sam brows raise high, his mouth nearly falling open. Dean recognizes the question in his eyes.

You married…an Indian?

Dean just raises his brows.

To his credit, Sam gets ahold of himself and internalizes most of his reaction.

“Ah, right. Nice to meet you…ma’am,” he says, chuckling awkwardly as he extends the offer of his hand. She just looks at his hand curiously.

Sam clears his throat and takes his hand back.

“So, when did—uh, how…”

Dean smiles slightly. He can’t remember the last time he saw his brother this tongue tied; maybe since the time Jessica Moore kissed his cheek when he was nine after he gave her his last juice box.

“Come on,” Dean says, tightening a hand on his shoulder. “I’ve got a lot to tell you before we get back.”

“Get back? Where are we going?” Sam asks. 

Dean doesn’t answer him just yet, but he wishes he had brought Mato. He doesn’t trust putting Mila up on the colt, who’s still being broken in, but he doesn’t think she’d feel comfortable riding with Sam. So they walk back together to the village while leading their horses. Dean tells Sam the story of how he and Mila met—the good, the bad, and skimming over most of the ugly. Though he does admit to killing Dick Roman. And Dean admits that he made a choice to help her based on gut instinct alone.

“I knew what I was supposed to do, but…” Dean trails, glancing over at Mila. She’s been holding onto his arm as they make their way up a grassy hill, and now, their eyes meet. “I guess I’m just not the man they wanted me to be.”

She smiles a little at that, squeezing his hand. 

Sam watches them together. He’s unable to stop the wonder from crossing his face, along with his smile. But his smile fades.

“You let us believe you were dead, Dean,” he says. Anger creeps into his voice, earning Dean’s sigh.

“It’s not like I could mail you a letter, Sam. It was…easier this way.”

“Easier?” Sam scoffs. “You think it was easy for me? Easy for Mom?”

Dean looks away. This chips open every part of his grief.

“We had a funeral for you,” Sam says. “Not that we had anything to bury.”

“Okay, I get it,” Dean says, rubbing at his eyes. “Maybe easier was the wrong word…safer is. For you, for me, for my wife, and for her people.” 

Sam glances at Mila, who stares back at him with reservation in her eyes. She understands his anger, but she’s grateful to Dean. She knew what he’d done to protect her all this time. However, faced with part of the family he let go for her sake, she now feels guilty. So she doesn’t speak as she walks beside Dean.

Sam also stays quiet for a while. The gentle plodding of the horses and their boots on the grassy earth are the only sounds for a while, along with the wind in the distant trees of the forest. 

“So, her tribe just…accepted you?” Sam asks. 

Dean chuckles, shaking his head. “Well, it hasn’t been that easy.”

“He has worked hard to earn the Chief’s respect, and the respect of everyone in our tribe,” Mila says. It’s the first thing she’s contributed to the conversation, but she feels that this is something that must be said. 

Once again, she and Dean share a meaningful glance. He’s going to need all of that respect and goodwill if he’s going to bring Sam to meet the Chief.

Dean is actually glad Šóta is gone on a hunt with most of the other men. Tahatan, Chatan, and Hanska are enough of an audience when he brings Sam to the Chief’s tipi. He and Mila explain why his younger brother came to find him, and Sam fills in the rest of the blanks from his point of view.

Apparently, he and their mother, Mary, received a letter from the U.S. Cavalry that Dean had been killed in the line of duty, but when Sam reached out to military personnel through his law connections, no one could tell him specifically how Dean had died. 

So Sam took a train out of Lawrence, Kansas and headed to Wyoming. He travelled the rest of the way on horseback to Fort Laramie. There he requested to speak to Colonel Sanderson, but the only one who would talk to him was Captain Benny Lafitte. 

“Captain now, huh?” Dean remarks. He smiles to himself. “Good for him.”

“He’s the one who told me that you had fallen into the canyon…in pursuit,” Sam says, tactfully when he glances at Mila. “But I looked all over that canyon. I never found your body, or your horse. So I just kept looking.”

Dean sighs. He can’t fault Sam for not leaving it alone, because he knew if he’d been in Sam’s shoes, he would’ve been searching all over the state for his little brother too, even if it was just a body to bring back to his mother. 

“What if they followed him here?” Chatan speaks up. It reminds Dean that it’s not just him and his brother here. In fact, his father-in-law and the Chief are wearing similar grim looks while they seize up the younger Winchester. To see if he’s a threat to their tribe.  

Dean meets his brother with a firmer look. “What did you tell them, Sam?”  

“What do you mean?” Sam asks. “They lied to me.” 

“Yeah, but what did you say to Benny? To Sanderson. To anyone. Did you tell them you didn’t believe I was dead?” Dean asks. 

“No, I didn’t even talk to Sanderson. He couldn’t be bothered with me,” Sam says. “All I told Captain Lafitte was that I was going to find your body.”

Dean breathes out in relief, but the feeling is short lived. Šóta and Otaktay bring in a wounded Takoda into the tent. He’s bleeding and groaning in pain, clutching at his chest with a hand covered in scarlet. Blood drips to the ground where they lay him before Hanska. Tahatan calls for Eyota, the healer. Mila and Dean go to help Takoda. 

“What happened?” Tahatan demands to know. 

Šóta can’t look his father in the eye at first. He opens his mouth to reply, but Takoda groans in agony. Mila pillows his head in her lap and brushes her half-cousin’s hair from his face. She feels someone’s gaze on her, and she finds that it’s Otaktay. He hasn’t spoken to her since his fight with Dean several weeks ago, and she’s certainly not gone out of her way to speak to him. But there’s no time for awkwardness right now. Takoda writhes in pain while Hanska examines his wound. 

Dean recognizes what it is right away. Takoda has been shot twice—once in the shoulder, and once all too close to his heart. Dean looks up at Šóta with furrowed brows.

“These are bullets, not arrows. Where did it happen?” he asks.   

“I warned you not to engage the White Men!” Tahatan reproaches angrily. “Now look at what has happened!” 

Šóta looks like he wants to bow his head, but he holds stubbornly to his convictions. 

“They’re starting to build closer to the village. We were just watching them at first, but we were spotted,” he says.

“You got too close!” Chatan growls. 

Eyota arrives with more supplies to help stem the bleeding. Dean is no doctor, but he knows a gunshot wound better than the others do, even Eyota and Hanska. The problem is, they don’t have the tools to get at the second bullet in his chest, and he’s bleeding out fast. 

“I gotta dig it out,” Dean tells Šóta in English. He translates to the others. Dean looks down at Takoda and tries to reassure him. “This is gonna hurt like hell, brother. Just hold on.”

Takoda nods. He literally holds onto Dean’s shoulder and pleads without speaking. Help me.

His jaw clenching tight, Dean tries his best to find the bullet with the thinnest utensil Eyota has for him. Takoda attempts to keep still. His writhing is too much though. Even Sam comes to help hold him down. He’s a lawyer, not a doctor, but he knows what Dean is doing is the man’s only chance. 

It just takes too long. Dean eventually does find the fat piece of the bullet and pulls it out, but the fight has drained from Takoda along with his life blood. His sweaty chest stills in its movements. His grip on Dean’s shoulder and Šóta’s knee become lax, and then limp. 

His dark eyes stare up at the ceiling of the tipi, now unseeing as the light drains out of them. 

Takoda. His name meant Friend to Everyone. And so he was.

After Hanska and Eyota clean his body, they dress him in his best clothes and wrap him in robes. Then they bring his body to the highest point near the village, at the top of the grassy hill. Under the night stars, it’s the closest they can bring him to the heavens, where the Lakota believe his soul will ascend to the spirit world. They won’t bury him in the ground, but instead will give him an “air burial” for a warrior’s death. 

When a member of the tribe dies, usually the night is spent telling stories, laughing at old jokes, and food passed around. But this isn’t a night for joke-telling. The whole tribe is gathered in mourning at the foot of the hill. 

Tahatan sings a somber song for his second son, and his voice rises high over his second wife’s wails. She kneels beside her son and cuts her long hair jagged with a knife while she weeps. Mila grieves more quietly, but she tells Sam and Dean that hair cutting is part of the custom, and even cutting at their own bodies if their grief is that great.    

Eventually, the tribe disperses for the night. Tahatan leads his wife away, but Šóta and Otaktay stay with his body. They will sit in a vigil with him all night.

Meanwhile, Mila and Dean take Sam to their tent. She finds bedding and furs for Sam to sleep on, and Dean helps her lay it all out. 

“Thank you,” Sam says to her sincerely.

She offers him a small smile, then she prepares to sleep herself. Dean stops her by taking her hand. He leads her into a comforting embrace. She lets out a shaky breath as her fingers curl into his clothing.

“I’m sorry…I couldn’t save him,” Dean confesses quietly. 

Mila shakes her head. “It was not your fault.”

In her mind, she can’t help but put that blame on Šóta. It hurts to have that anger in her heart, but it’s there, no matter how hard she tries to let go of it. She clings harder to Dean, pressing her face into his chest while her body shakes with silent sobs. He caresses her hair, kisses the top of her head, and then her cheek. 

After a little while, she pulls away from him and rests a grateful hand over his heart, before she goes to bed. Dean helps her settle down on the ground and pulls the fur blanket over her form. He squeezes her shoulder one more time before he joins Sam on the other side of the room.

All the while, his younger brother has been watching him, admiring the way he’s always been a protector, but also a man who takes care of the people around him. Sam remembers it well, when they were kids. 

Dean gives him some bison jerky to snack on, and for a few minutes they eat in silence while a small fire burns in the coals piled in front of them.

“You’re all in danger here, Dean,” Sam says, breaking the silence. “It’s only a matter of time before the Army finds this place.”

Dean nods slowly. “I’ve been trying to convince the Chief to move the tribe up north. Other Sioux tribes have been able to settle there, but more and more, they’re being forced out of their land.”

Sam considers that with a slow nod. A grim realization dawns in his eyes.

“It’s not fair,” he eventually agrees. He falls into his thoughts for a moment, trying to decide how to say what he wants to. “You should come home, Dean. Come back with me.”

Dean sighs. He knew this was coming. It might as well be now. He glances over at Mila, who finally seems like she’s sleeping peacefully. He rests an elbow above his knee and looks back at his brother.

“You’re asking me to leave my wife?” he asks. “She’s pregnant, Sam.”

Sam’s eyes widen. That news probably shouldn’t have surprised him as much as it did, but he’s a little hurt that Dean would think he’d suggest leaving her. 

“No, Dean, of course not,” he says. His frown fades, turning into a smile. “Congratulations.”

Dean lightens, his lips curving slightly into a smile as well. He nods in thanks.

Sam sighs. “Look…ask her to come with you. With us. You can live out with Mom on the farm and raise your kids there.”

“You forget that I’m supposed to be dead? Hell, for God’s sake, you already had my funeral to prove it.” Dean rubs tiredly at his face. “Lawrence is a small town, and Mom has, what, fifteen, twenty people working that farm? Word’s gonna get out, one way or another. If the Army hears it, I’ll be court martialed for desertion, not to mention all the rest of it.”

Sam opens his mouth to argue back with that earnest, determined look in his eyes. Dean expects nothing less. It’s what makes his brother a good lawyer, but Dean raises up a hand against whatever he’s going to say. Again, he glances back at Mila.

“Sam…this is what she knows. These are her people, her family,” he says. After a hesitant pause, he adds, “They’ve become my family too.”

Sam’s jaw clenches. He glances down at the ground between his feet, before he’s able to meet Dean’s eyes again. There’s hurt and anger in his own.

“And me?” he asks. “What, I’m not your family anymore?”

He doesn’t know just how deeply that hurts Dean. He shakes his head, drops his jerky into the dirt. He reaches out and grasps Sam’s shoulder.

“Sammy,” Dean says. For a moment, he can’t speak. His throat constricts, and no matter how tight he presses his lips together, he can’t stop the slight tremble in them. “You don’t know how hard it’s been…to convince myself that I wasn’t ever gonna see you again. But I’m happy. I’m so fucking happy that you found me.”

Dean tries and fails to blink past the way his eyes burn with tears. Sam’s eyes are getting just as red and shiny. He lays a heavy hand on Dean’s knee, and they sit like that for a while in silence, until the embers on the coals dim from red to black.

Šóta hasn’t slept. It’s evident in his red-rimmed eyes and unkempt, dirty clothes, but he’s still adamant about hitting back against the railroad construction.

“Father, they stand at our doorstep!” he argues to the Chief. “They take our horses, run off our wild game with their machines, cut down the forest, and now they build iron tracks through our lands. You went to war against the Crow for less!” 

Tahatan seems heavy in his thoughts as he listens. The words of his eldest son, and from his first wife, have weight—not just with him, but with the entire tribe as they sit together in the place where they typically have group feasts. Otaktay stands behind Šóta in support. 

Dean is reluctant to single himself out, but after sharing a look with Mila, he stands.

“Chief, what happened yesterday was more than just a tragedy or a crime. It’s a warning,” he says. “We need to leave, before the Army finds this village.”

“You suggest we run like cowards,” Otaktay says. His tone is icy and angry. 

Dean shakes his head. “I’m not doubting your courage or your skill. I’m not doubting any warrior here. But this ain’t a fair fight.”

He shifts his gaze, addressing Tahatan directly. 

“We’re out-manned and out-gunned, literally. Arrows and knives against bullets—pistols and rifles,” Dean says. “They’ll tear through this village until there’s no one and nothing left. We have to go north. It’s the only way we’ll survive.”

Chatan sides with Dean, and Mila stands with him too. 

Tahatan thinks hard. After a long, silent moment, he stands from his chair of whicker and wood.

“We will pack the caravans today and move out tonight,” he says. 

Then he commands Šóta and Dean to start preparing the horses. Šóta shoots Dean a hard, angry look, but Mila steps in and pushes at her cousin’s arm. 

“Don’t look at him,” she warns tersely in their language. “This is the cost of what you have done.”

Šóta is affronted by her words, but he doesn’t answer her. He just turns away with a sharp pivot on his heel. Otaktay glances back at Mila and Dean impassively, but he follows after Šóta, his friend and his leader.

Dean understands what she said; he’s spent enough time here that he’s able to follow every word. He gives her a look that’s mostly resigned, but he holds her to his side in comfort. He knows this isn’t easy for her either.  

“I will start packing,” she says.  

Dean nods. “I’ll come help you in a bit.”

He watches her leave his side to make her way back to their tent. Sam approaches him, and together they walk to the horse pen, where his horse is grazing with the others under the great sycamore tree that shields them. 

“We’re leaving tonight,” Dean says. “You should head home.”

“What if something happens to you on the road?” Sam says. 

Dean smiles ruefully. “I could say the same thing to you…but it looks like you don’t need me to protect you anymore.”

“Yeah well, doesn’t mean I won’t always need my brother.”

They share a smile, followed by a strong embrace. Dean thumps his back.

“Take care of yourself, Sammy,” he says, a coarse whisper.

Sam chuckles weakly. “You’ve got a harder road than I do.”

“Hey, you’re the one who’s gonna have to face Mom.”

Dean says it as something of a joke, but all it does is sober both of them. Sam pulls away reluctantly.

“I’m not going to get to meet my niece or nephew,” he says. 

“I’m sorry about that too,” Dean says, meeting his brother’s glassy eyes. “I’m sorry about a lot of things.”

Sam jaw clenches, and he shakes his head. “Don’t do that.”

Another beat passes between them. He clears his throat.

“I’ll tell Mom…”

“Take care of her,” Dean says. 

Sam nods his agreement. Dean finally releases his brother’s shoulder, and there below the sycamore tree, the brothers part ways. Sam straps up his provisions and climbs up on his horse. Dean opens the pen for him, long enough for Sam to ride through.

He stops at the foot of the hill and looks over his shoulder at Dean, who gives him one more lax salute. Sam smiles, nodding back at him. Then he keeps riding.

Dean watches him cross the grassy plain until it becomes too hard to look straight into the afternoon sun. Distantly he hears Šóta’s voice behind him, giving out orders to other men. Dean looks away from the sun.

He has work to do.

He locks up the rest of his grief to begin with the horses, not knowing that Otaktay watches him. 

Dean doesn’t want to load up Baby with too much cargo. She’s still early in her pregnancy, and he could even ride her if he wanted to, but he can’t help but want to protect her more. It’s going to take days to move the tribe across the state, maybe longer. So instead, she can help pull one of the caravans with the colt and a couple of the other horses.

He saddles up Mato to ride. Hopefully he actually cooperates with Dean this time. 

Mato begins to stamp nervously though, like he senses something coming. Dean perks up and notices the way the horse’s ears flick back and forth. Baby makes an anxious sound as well. Dean turns his head in the direction of the village with furrowed brows. 

Šóta draws near to find his horse, who’s just as unsettled as the rest of them.

“The horses are spooked,” he says.

“Something’s wrong,” Dean nods in agreement. His gut tells him so, while a spark of unease licks up his spine.

And then he hears it. A warning blow of a buffalo horn on the air, followed by screaming, shouting, and gunfire in the village down below. His eyes widen. 

Mila.

AN: 😬 Sorry about the cliffhanger, but we're almost to the end! What did you think of Sam's big entrance into the story? 😉

Coming up, the grand finale...

Next Time:

Gritting his teeth, Dean brings Mato to a short stop in front of the Chief. Dean aims his gun at the Colonel. By now, the man is clutching his bleeding shoulder and staring at his former captain in disbelief. Benny is maybe a little less shocked to see Dean, but there’s conflict in his eyes—happiness mixed with turmoil.

The other officer is Jack Kline. He recognizes Dean too, with wide eyes and a gaping mouth.

“You…” Sanderson trails. He blinks, his brows furrowing. “Dean Winchester.”

Pronunciation Guide:

Wašíču ("wash-ee-jew") Šóta ("sho-tah") Chatan ("chat-tan") Tahatan ("ta-hat-tann") Otaktay ("ogh-tac-tay") Weaya ("we-ayy-ya") Takoda ("ta-koda") Mato ("matt-toe") Misae ("mee-sah-eh")

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[yandere-paramour]

What if darling and Atalanta were childhood friends? But darling moved out of the country when she was in high school but came back after she finished her studies. Now she’s a whole new person, way different than how she acted back in high school.

So your dad is a diplomat deployed across the globe in the middle of your first year of high school. You've only been here 2 years but... your life is here. Your clothes and books are hung up in the closet or stacked neatly on your bookshelf, you have a routine of Thursday night hot chocolates and Sunday afternoon studying, and you have friends you spend your time with.

Friends... You're not even really sure if you can call her back. You're not even sure you like her, but she sure likes you. Atalanta Montclair. She spends all her time around you, even subverting your real friends to get closer to you. She's always bothering you, demanding to know whether you've had some exercise as she scoops an extra helping of carrots onto your plate at dinner. You don't even like carrots. She acts like she's your mom or something, constantly harping on you, and you frankly can't take it anymore.

If there's one good side in all of this, at least you'll be away from her.

When school lets out for winter break, you live it up one last time with your friends, then vanish into the wind. Wherever your family is going, you'll get a new start there, and as painful as sneaking away is, at least you're protecting yourself. Like most people at school, that girl has more than enough resources to follow you, but this way you can prevent that. She would show up on January 14th like everyone else, find out you were gone, and get over it like a normal person. And that would be that.

As you lay back in your first-class seat, you sighed in pleasure. You had your own little cubicle, courtesy of your doting father, a screen pre-loaded with 10,000 videos and movies, and the stewardess was bringing you a drink. Life was good.

Well, life was not good. You hated that godforsaken country. It was too hot, your dad was more interested in governmental affairs than you, and the other kids at school laughed at your accent. You're 23 now. You finished high school AND college; it's time to be an adult. It's time to go back to where you belong.

The city is gorgeous, better than you remember. The buildings sparkle, the flowers are vibrant, and the children at the playground laugh and play in a language you can understand. This might be the best walk you've ever taken.

"You've returned," An astonished voice came from behind you.

The best walk... until now. You almost didn't recognize her at first. She was much taller, stronger, hotter frankly. You felt your face blush. That annoying, nagging little kid had grown into a frankly beautiful woman. But there was no mistaking the look in her eyes. It was muted now, covered by something else, but it was still crazy.

"Yeah. I'm back."

"Where did you go?" The question could have sounded accusing if it wasn't so soft, "Why did you leave me?"

"My dad got a new job," You flipped your hair, "It wasn't a big deal."

The short, blonde lady beside Montclair put a hand on her shoulder, looking at her strangely. She whispered something in Montclair's ear and Montclair stiffened and stood back up, a cool mask coming back onto her face, "You're right. I-I apologize. Please forgive me for my behavior, both past and current."

"It's fine," It's not, but you want to leave this conversation and get back to your new life.

"Please," Montclair held out her hands and the blonde deposited a business card into it, which she then held out to you, "Let me buy you dinner to properly apologize. Anywhere you want. My treat. I'll even bring an appropriate gift."

You took the card because you had to, "Uh... fine?"

Montclair's face lit up with joy, surprising the tiny blonde woman, "Thank you, thank you so much y/n. You won't regret this. I will make appropriate preparations for this weekend, and I will send the details over to you as soon as possible.

You bid them both a polite goodbye, Montclair with a wide smile on her beautiful face, excitedly speaking to the short one about contacting someone named "Zachary" or "Jeremiah" or something like that, you weren't listening too closely. Ah, but it didn't matter. You had a great new life to live, and Atalanta Montclair was only a bump in the road.

[radioactiverats]

Thoughts: Nsf/w Ratchet 🌶️ 18+

Ratchet, being a medic, knows the ins and outs of every life form he studies. With humans in the base, he has taken it upon himself to study the human body (his grumbling doesn't fool you, you know he cares).

That being said, as part of his study, he is... adequately acquainted with the erogenous zones of the human form.

There has been something going on between you two for a while. An unspoken understanding, a closeness between the two of you that is different from your relationships to the others. What if? Your anatomy was surprisingly compatible. Ratchet chastises himself for letting his mind wander, and files the information away.

A few rocky misunderstandings and a heartfelt conversation later, you are... together. It's not as earth-shattering as you might think. You fit together like puzzle pieces, anyway - a sense of comfort settles between you both, a cornerstone in your relationship.

Ratchet's not exactly young, and you are mature enough to savour the entire aspect of taking it slow.

Shared kisses, to pressing yourselves together in berth - his warm chassis, hard, angular planes against your soft body as he cradles you to him and kisses you like you're the only thing that matters.

Touching - "I know what I'm doing, you know," Ratchet grumbles, even though you know it's just for show. "You have a perfectly capable medic here." And if that doesn't send a delicious shiver down your spine. He has indeed done his research. The first time he slides a finger into you - even mass displaced, one finger has you arching your back and gasping for breath - "Where is... should be around here... aha," Ratchet mutters, optics fixated on your expression - and you hear the sound of steam venting from his intake as he feels you clench around him, a moan tearing unbidden from your throat.

You agreed to work your way up together - to actual interfacing. With Ratchet's talented servos already having you trembling and on the edge, you deliriously wonder what it would feel like to take his spike.

Ratchet slowly glides his fingers in and out of you - hungrily taking in every gasp, every moan, every time your eyes flutter closed and your back arches in pleasure - chasing more of him, wanting more of him inside you.

"Humans... also have a node," he mutters to himself, and you nearly wail as he finds your sweet spot - Ratchet himself groans when he feels you tighten impossibly around his fingers. Primus, what would you feel like around his spike?

"That's it, sweetspark," he encourages, voice low. "Show me what you look like when you feel good."

He's a billion year old medic - he's seen it all. The idea that you can let go, without fear of embarrassment - when he murmurs to you that you're the most beautiful creature he's ever seen - you finally allow yourself to crash over the edge, face screwed up in pleasure, - and you manage to catch sight of Ratchet fixated intensely on your face, ex-venting heavily, realizing that your pleasure is precisely what he wants to see.

He works you through your release - motions gentling as you whine with overstimulation - yet, somehow, he knows you're not at your limit yet - his fingers continue their gentle ministrations until you're riding the wave again, gentler this time, moaning against his chassis as another release overtakes you.

You want to reciprocate, of course. You may not have the same resources to study cybertronian anatomy, but you hope Ratchet will allow you some hands-on lessons.

[dark-night-hero]

Sealed deal (Rowan Theodore)

⤷ One day when your parents came up to you and told you that you would soon have a fiance, you already had a certain person in mind. So why the fuck is this guy in here?

You: Dude, guess what.

Theo: What?

You: Mom and dad told me I have a fiance. Ngl, I knew this day would come but come on now. I'm not even 18, I have yet to fuck someone I like. Why should I get tied up to someone I probably don't even know let alone like.

You: Lucky you, your mom and dad doesn't force you to get engaged to some spoiled brat here and there.

Theo: Pity.

You: I know right? I knew I could count on you.

Theo: Pity the person about to become your fiance.

You: You know what, fuck you. U ain't invited to my wedding.

Seen.

Looking at the text messages between you and your childhood friend a couple of days ago. You cannot help but to frown and throw you head back in frustration fingers reaching out to losen your tie as you felt suffocated. What a fucking bastard, you thought. Currently on your way into the fancy restaurant that you are meet your fiance. And there was already someone in mind in that matter. The child of your mother's friend, someone who was in the same circle as you and Theodore. What was the name again? Matil.. Sanda.. you forgot.

You groan, wishing everything was just a dream. Honestly you cannot believe your parents who dragged you in here out of your own will. Making you wear these uncomfortable clothing just make up a good impression. What was the rush? You were only seventeen, it is not like you would run out of fiance once you turn old. And even if you did run out of fiance, that would be an even more pleasure for you who can live your life the way you want, out of romance and just by yourself. You cannot even take care of yourself properly, what more would you treat your fiance?

"We're here young- wait! Where are you going?! The madam and master was already inside-?!" Startled, your chauffeur shouted after you once you make a run for it. Running away from the restaurant and was about to call for a taxi when you felt your getting lift up by your collar. "What are you doing?" "Theo!" Your eyes sparkled upon meeting with a pair of green ones. "I knew you wouldn't abandon me! Quick, get me out of here!" You beam at him only to be faced by harsh reality once he started dragging you inside the restaurant and you upon realizing what he was doing. "Traitor! Let go of me!"

"Oh my! Just in time you two, Theo, my dear. What took you two so long? We were about to get worried you two might not make it in time." ??? "Come on you two, sit. Sit here, we were just talking about the time and date of your engagement party as well as the families to be invited..." What the hell is happening? You are so fucking cofunsed as you sat down on your seat across his. You were pretty sure you were to be engaged to someone else, not him. Not him. You were to sure because you heard your parents talking. There is no way in hell he was your fiance. But there he is, right in front of you. You are so fucking confused and taken a back. At the same time, you felt a huge amount of relief.

Looking at the man right across you, his fluffy brown hair stays in place despite his movement. The way he cuts his steak gracefully and elegantly. Then your (eye color) iris met with a pair of green ones. 'Eat' he mouthed you causing you to pick up your utensils with trembling hands. Nevertheless, you woukd never forget the way your heart beats widely on your chest as he reminds you to keep your smile after that. This guy... was not so bad after all. "So what do you think you two?" "I'm fine with it if (First name) is." Suddenly all attention turn towards you and with no hint of urgency. "I like it, let's proceed with that. Mom, dad, aunt, uncle." You smiled.

"Gahhh! That drained me. I thought I was about to throw up." "Dramatic." He roll his eyes at you before slamming the car door behind him. The two of you where right in front of a city view on a hill side. The one the two of you would often go, all kudos to Theo having a drivers licence. "No, because you didn't even told me you were the one I was supposed to be engaged to. I was genuinely about to run away." That earn a flick on the forehead from him. "I was only told this morning, I knew nothing about this. Who would have ever thought I was the pitiful bastard I was talking about?" He spoke but you swear you saw him smirk for a moment.

"So? What's the plan now smartass?" You asked as silence passed by. Just the two of you looking at the stars. "Plan? Why do we need a plan? Rather than that. What are your thoughts about this?" He asked, looking at you for a moment before bring his attention back into the view. Onec again there was a moment of silence. "My thoughts? Well I must admit I was relieved that it was you." "Really?" "Yeah. It makes things much easier. It's not like we actually wanted to get married to each other so let's cancel the engagement once we reach 25!" Maybe it was because you were too focused on the stars, but you missed the way his green eyes had such dangerous gaze on them when you said those words. "Why?" "Why? Whats you mean why? No offence but I do not want to get married. I could not even take care of myself. Besides, you are not really my type." You roll your eyes at him. "Perhaps if you have a black hair, things would have been different." You whispered.

"So? What do you think? Let's break off the engagement once were 25, in the mean time, no one is allowed to have another in those years. I doubt our parents would let that be. We could also go on occasional dates, well we do hangout regularly, let's just treat that as a date. That would be enough to fool our parents for a decades." "And if you fall for me?" "Huh?" You scoff at him and laugh. "Then I guess I might end up marrying you. But I doubt that." You roll your eyes at him. "And that matter about you wanting to fuck someone else?" "What?! Why would you bring that up now?!"

And so you decided to tease him. "Oh well whatever, that should be none of our business. I already fucked with them yesterday-" "Who?" "Huh?" Why does he look so damn scary right now? "Who is it that you fucked with?" "Who- the who- you look like you're about to kill someone! Why should I tell you?!" Seriously what is up with this guy who cannot even take a joke? "Mon chère, answer while I'm asking nicely hmm?" Mon chère? Argh whatever! He started talking insane again! "You! I'm just kidding! I'm kidding! Why do you kept taking things seriously?!"

"You should have said that earlier!" He suddenly laugh and messed with your hair causing you to protest. At the same time in that swift moment, he mouthed the man watching from afar 'cancel mission' in which they quickly disappeared as if they were never there. "Whatever. So enough nonsense- do we have a deal?" You spoke, holding up your pinky finger. "Whatever you say (First name)." He roll his eyes nevertheless linked his pinky with you before quickly letting it go. "Hey! Take this seriously will you!" "Yeah yeah whatever."

[ⓒdark-night-hero] 2024°

: badly want to make this rowan x m.reader but sure, let's get this gn as possible lmao.

[jwanniie]

That soyeon fic was so good I love your works sm 🥹 I’m not sure if you’re taking requests right now but can you do reader asking stepsis soyeon how to eat pussy properly and sy just eating her out on her bed?

Aww, thank you so much love! I really appreciate that!!💋🤭

Pairings: Stepsis Soyeon x fem reader!

Warning: pussy eating, cum eating, reader gets caught masturbating, Soyeon smokes, drinks etc… , stepsis x stepsis, fuck girl Soyeon, not proofread, typos, fingering,Oral, and just pure smut!!

Word count:1k (1,047)

Jwans note: I’m sorry babe! I posted this late😭 hope you still enjoy!!😘

—————————————————————————

Whatever the fuck you are feeling for your stepsister soyeon wasn’t something normal to feel. As soon as Soyeon walked into your life, you couldn’t help but drool at her.

To say she was unbelievably hot was an understatement. The way she took the joint between her fingers while blowing the steam off her lungs never failed to make your panties drenched. Or the way the smoke found its way to your nose, intoxicating you.

Her room always smelled like weed, cigarettes and alcohol, three things that ruined humans health but managed to make them feel the way too good but short euphorias. You honestly never liked the smell of this combination or even found anyone who smoked attractive, it was a big turn off for you. But the way this jumped out of the window as soon as you saw soyeon was crazy. It was only Soyeon who looked hot doing it.

One thing you disliked about Soyeon was the chicks that went in and out of her room every day. They went inside with a little to no clothing and came out with one of her oversized shirts early in the morning, their hair open and their nipples pattern visible.

Now you might wonder, where was your parents? Your father and her mom met at their workplace, and since the wedding day they have been occupied with work and trips. So you meet them once every few months and Soyeon has all of the chances to be as rebellious as she wants. The jealousy would linger inside you every night, the way her bed was right against your bed, just a thin wall between it, you could hear every little noise those girls let out, how good Soyeon was fucking them.

You wished she could look at you the way she looked at those random chicks that visited every night, or maybe no, you don’t want to be a one night thing, you wanted her to actually feel something for you. Not just her stepsister who she can fuck with when she’s feeling extra freaky.

—

You were laying flat against the soft cushioned surface while your fingers worked messily inside you. You huff in frustration, your fingers not giving you the satisfaction you desperately need. You tightly shut your eyes imagining Soyeon eating you out while her fingers worked inside you, your own hand found your cunt again and the scenario in your head and your fingers making it more pleasurable.

The scene that was playing in your head worked effectively and the knot in your stomach was soon untightening, your digits continued working sloppily and you started ranting Soyeons name continuosly.

"If you wanted me this bad you could have just asked princess!" Your eyes quickly opened and the embarrassment washes over you, your fingers never stopping nonethless. Without realizing your juices spill out of your hole, wetting the bedsheets and now the embarrassment is 10x worse. Wasn´t she supposed to be out with her friends?

You look everywhere but her face. Wanting to miss the shit eating grin. Her figure was leaning on the door frame. Her eyes were looking at you amused and the cigarette between her index and middle finger. The only thing you can smell now is the strangely arousing smoke smell. Slowly washing the shame away off your mind.

She walks towards your shivering frame, sitting at the edge of the bed, her eyes studying your features. "You have not been taken care of, and im here to make you feel so good, Princess!" she cups your face, her lust but tired filled eyes looking at your embarrased ones.

The ciggarette was at this point already wasted and she throws it somewhere deep in your room. She gently nudges your shoulder back, making you lay back. Your head deep into the pillows. She tries to position herself between your legs but you were quick to close them, feeling shy at someone seeing you this close.

“Open your legs for me baby. I want to take care of you!” She gripped your knees before spreading your legs apart. The sight in front of her got her head spinning. The excitement rushes through her body and without a warning, her tongue lays flat against your swollen clit. A shiver runs down your spine and you try to close your legs around her head. The pleasure too much. Her hand travels from your knees to grip your inner thighs, her strength making you unable to even move.

Her tongue starts lapping your clit while her other hand start to tease your hole. Spreading your gummy walls apart or thrusting inside to only pull out quickly. Her fingers leave your pussy and her tongue starts thrusting inside you. Your head sinks deeper into the pillow while you suck a deep breath in, your hand found her hair, tugging on it gently.

“F-fuck Soyeonie I want to know how to eat a pussy properly like y-you.” You managed to blurt out, she looks up at you with a big smug expression.

“I will show you how to eat a pussy properly baby!”

She dives back into your cunt, sucking on your aching bud harshly while her fingers started pounding your pussy again, curling them deep and slow. Hitting all of the spots that had you weak. The squelching and lewd sounds encouraging her to do better and your high pitched moans making her hump your bed, wanting some friction.

You raised your head up looking at what was happening. The sight was so fucking hot, better than what you have dreamed off, she was way too good, eating you like a starved woman.

She picked up her pace, now rough and fast, her long slender fingers managing to hit your g-spot effortlessly. You soon were over the edge and your cum covered her face, she licked you clean. The way your pussy was clenching and unclenching around her tongue only made her to go harder before letting you rest.

“You did so good for me baby.” Her thumb now caressed your cheeks while kissing the top of your head.

“Now it’s my turn to make you feel good!” You slid between her legs before copying everything she did to you, trying to make her feel good.

[waltzingwithyourenemyattheball]

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🪈 Take what resonates and leave the rest

🪈 Disclaimer in highlight applies here

🪈 Thank you for letting me read for you, it has been a pleasure

🪈Personal readings are paid only.

🪈No one is allowed to copy my work under any circumstances.

✨111✨

You live life in defined stages, set in their ways, dislike change. Anal personality, structured, to-do lists that must be crossed off and any step out of the system creates irritation. You are doing something you don’t want, to get something you don’t want, simply because you once decided. You are being told to embrace partnership, learning how to dance would help, choose a dance style in which it involves two people going in a rhythm like salsa. This will help with adaptability and flexibility which you really need. Tightness in body will be gone to. You take the road taken while yearning for adventure, you think, but you never act. hesitant energy due to defeated mindset: first the world defeated you and now you defeat you. You need love, you like love, you crave love and affection but darn it if you show this. You crave intimacy. You like to seem tough. You want softness. A go-getter. Someone who says they don’t have time for love and will focus on their career. A free thinker who doesn’t like changes. Theme of  love life: opposites attract like rebel meets high school sweetheart, princess and the frog, forbidden romance. Loyal to a fault. MAIN MESSAGE: Embrace partnerships especially romantic, it will change your life. Don’t rush but embrace, go out on dates, meet people, BE VULNERABLE. Now listen carefully: there is no shame in wanting to be loved, it’s the most human thing to feel. Work on this and many of your problems will vanish, like literally be banned from your life. 

COMMENT ‘111’ To claim this! 🌙DM for a personal tarot reading🌙

✨333✨

*If all this isn’t happening currently, it means you must make it happen* NEW BEGINNINGS. All the conflict and shame is in the past, all the cold wars, all the over analysis, complaining and gossiping, all the plans are out the window. It is a fresh new start. ‘Beautiful’ by NCT might be relevant for you. You have worked hard to save relationships, biting your tounge and all to the deterioration of your own happiness. No more. You are done. You are done in a good way. ALL YOUR focus and all you energy is being invested in changes, changing decor, moving homes, letting go of the stuff in your house that doesn’t bring you joy, a de-clutter. It’s like moving into a new environment where no one has a pre-concieved notion of who you are, so you can begin anew. You can be who you want to be. You are being told to not rush the process, it might already be at a good velocity, learn from your past but not let old experiences get in the way of making new ones. LEAVE THE BAGGAGE. CUT CORDS. It seems like you are moving away from family and siblings for some of you. A year from now, it’s a different story, a good one. CHANNELED PHRASES: new home, relief, reminiscing past as simply past with no negativity. You are a hard worker and it will be rewarded and I know you are tired of hearing the word patient, but you will be rewarded soon. Fight for your place in the world, don’t let people walk over you. Remember Energy flows where attention goes, if you constantly keep replaying the past in your head like a cassette and its like asking ‘Why won’t the music stop when I hit replay’, its because you are replaying it, and harbouring resentment. LEARN TO FIGHT BACK. Don’t show the other cheek, and make do. Make the best of the situation but that doesn’t mean you let go of your rights, please communicate your desires and work towards it, instead of running away from conflict.   COMMENT ‘333’ To claim this! 🌙DM for a personal tarot reading🌙

-

EL TAROT

[scoonsalicious]

Unwanted: Chapter 1, Unarmed - Pt. 2

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Mild language, Bucky and Reader being Tolkien nerds, light fluff, mention of rabies (it's a super scary disease and we should all be vigilant, okay?!)

Word Count: 1.6k

Previously On...: You just had the pleasure of meeting the very handsome Bucky Barnes. Despite a little bit of awkwardness during your first encounter, you have a feeling your life is about to get a lot more interesting now that he's been introduced into it.

A/N: You know what? I said I wasn't going to do this, but I thought "fuck it!" and decided to post all of Chapter 1: Unarmed. My anxiety is too high to just sit on it. So, please enjoy Ch1. Pt2! Pts 3 & 4 to follow!

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917

Taglist: (Please let me know if you’d like to be added!) @blackhawkfanatic

The next evening, you were making your way back to your suite after a productive, albeit exhausting, day in your lab. You were working on a crisis prediction real-time monitoring system to anticipate global threats. You were convinced it would allow the Avengers to respond to trouble faster, but perfecting the privacy algorithm had been an absolute pain in the ass, and you still hadn't gotten it quite right. Technically, you could have farmed the project off to a subordinate; hell, even a team of subordinates of a subordinate, but this was one of your pet projects and you insisted on being hands-on in its development.

You had your tablet open as you walked, chewing on your thumb and reviewing the dataset from the run of your latest algorithm model one more time. Closer, but not good enough. If you were going to convince Tony that this was a program worth implementing, especially at its projected cost, everything had to be perfect. "Damn it," you muttered to yourself.

You rounded the corner and ran smack into Bucky's chest, dropping your tablet and causing him to drop the three books he'd been holding under his remaining arm. "Oh, shit-- I'm so sorry," you uttered as you bent down to retrieve the dropped items. Bucky leaned down to assist you, but you waved him off.

"’S my fault; I've got it," you told him, piling up his books for him. "I wasn't paying attention to where I was going. I didn't hurt you, did I?"

Bucky leaned up against the wall and chuckled while you stood up and handed the books back to him. "I doubt you could hurt me," he said, smiling softly. "No offense."

You let out a small laugh. "None taken." He was a super soldier, after all. Stealing a glance at book spines, you couldn't suppress the smile that crossed your face. "Lord of the Rings," you nodded appreciatively. "Have you read them before?"

Bucky looked down at the books tucked under his arm. "No, first time. I read The Hobbit back when it was first published in '37, but these didn't come out until after..." he trailed off, but you knew what he meant. After he'd been abducted and brainwashed, turned into a murderer.

You nodded in understanding. "I'm actually really excited for you," you told him. "What I wouldn't give to be able to read them again for the first time."

"You a Tolkien fan, then?" he asked you. When you nodded, he continued: "When I finish them, maybe we can talk about them sometime? Steve's not really into fantasy."

"Yeah, I'd like that," you said. "If you're interested, we could watch the movies. I'll warn you though; they're long as hell, but their masterpieces. I mean, they didn't need to turn The Hobbit into three separate films, but still, they'll blow your fucking mind."

Bucky ran his tongue over his lower lip and you couldn't help but follow the motion with your eyes. "That sounds like fun," he said, his eyes twinkling with... something. "Your place or mine?" Was he… flirting with you?

"How 'bout you finish the books first, then we'll talk logistics," you teased. "Hey, speaking of, what floor did they end up putting you on?"

"Um, this one, actually," he said, tilting his head toward a nearby door.

"No shit," you remarked, laughingly. "You must have done something to piss Rogers off, because he put you right across the hall from me."

Bucky looked down, scuffing the toe of his boot against the carpeting. "He said it was the quietest floor, thought I'd prefer that."

You pursed your lips, considering. "Yeah, that makes sense; it's just been me on this level for ages. It'll be nice to have some company for a change."

Bucky looked surprised. "Stark's kept you down here all by your lonesome? That doesn't seem very nice."

You shook your head and dismissed his concern with a wave. "Oh, no-- Tony hates that I still live down here, actually. He put in all new living quarters a few years back. Everyone migrated upstairs, but I was the only one who didn't want to move."

"Why's that?" Bucky asked, appearing genuinely interested.

"I've lived here since I graduated college," you admitted, "back when it was still just Stark Tower. When Tony relocated here from Malibu to rebrand it for the Avengers, he wanted to redo everything, which meant fancy new suites for everybody. But I love my rooms, so I asked to stay put. They've been my home for so long now and I guess I just like the stability, you know?"

Bucky nodded thoughtfully. "And Tony thinks highly enough of you that he let the blow to his ego slide?"

You raised an eyebrow. "Maybe I have enough dirt on him that he felt like he didn't have much of a choice." You snorted, not able to keep up the pretense. "No, but seriously, I know you and Tony have a complicated... history, but he's not a bad guy. Ego as tall as this Tower, yes, definitely, but he's also incredibly kind and generous. He paid for my entire college education-- undergrad, post-grad, doctorate. I owe everything I have to him."

Bucky shifted against the wall. "That is pretty generous. And he never expected anything from you in return?" He didn't say the words out loud, but the implication was there. Had you slept with Tony in exchange for your diplomas? The innuendo should have bothered you, but it had been posed to you so many times over the years, you'd stopped being offended by it. Before Pepper, Tony had had quite the  reputation, after all, and an MIT education didn’t exactly come cheap. Most people couldn’t understand why he would offer a full ride to someone who, at the time, had been a complete stranger.

"Tony appreciates talent," you clarified. "When he finds it, he cultivates it, nourishes it, does everything he can to help it grow to its fullest potential. But he does like to get a return on his investments, and my skills have helped him make a lot of money." You shrugged your shoulders with a chuckle. "I love my job, I love the work we do, I love the stupid weirdo family we've built here, so I've always considered meeting Tony to be the best thing that ever happened to me. He's kind of like my own fairy godfather."

"So, what exactly does he have you do around here?" Bucky asked. "I know Steve said you did computer stuff, but you said it was an over-simplification."

You ran a hand up to rub the back of your neck while you considered your answer. How best to explain your position to someone who was born before the invention of the television? "Okay," you exhaled, "so, short answer is that I'm the CTO, the Chief Technology Officer, of Stark Industries and, under that, I run the Avenger’s Technology and Innovation Department. It's sort of our take on Research and Development. I've got a lab where I'm in charge of about 450 scientists, engineers, computer programmers, analysts, et. cetera. And our entire job is coming up with cool new ways of making things easier for the Avengers. Like, new features for suits, developing useful programs, coming up with new defenses and weapons, that kind of thing. And if we've got missions that require heavy computer- or tech-work, I come along for on-site support. I'm combat-trained and good with languages, so that comes in handy in the field. There’s probably a ton of field agents that could go in my place, but for Tony, it’s a matter of trust."

Bucky let out a low, appreciative whistle. "Damn. That's impressive. You're a little intimidating, you know that?"

Laughing, you tucked your tablet under your arm. "Please. I'm about as intimidating as a hamster." You paused to think. "Maybe a hamster with rabies, but still a hamster."

A series of beeps emanated from your tablet. As you pulled it out to check the alert, Bucky moved away from the wall. "I'm so sorry-- you were heading back to your room and I've basically been holding you hostage this entire time."

"Actually," you said, silencing the notification alarm that had distracted you, "That was just a reminder I set for myself to eat. Sometimes I lose track of time in the lab and completely forget to have dinner. Are you hungry? You could join me."

Bucky pulled his head back, regarding you as though he wasn't sure if you were serious.

"Or, if you don't want to, that's cool," you said quickly once you noticed his hesitation. "I mean, you wanted a quiet floor. Annoying neighbor is probably the last--"

"I'd love to," interrupted Bucky with a grin. "I'm just surprised someone like you would want to spend time with someone like me."

"Someone like me? Hey now, for all you know, I could be an absolute trash person," you teased, playfully punching him on the shoulder.

Bucky chuckled, his eyes sparkling with a newfound warmth. "Well, I highly doubt that, but I guess I'll find out soon enough."

"Don't say I didn't warn you when you do." You cocked your head toward the door to your room. "I'm going to change out of my work clothes. While I do, how about you decide what you're in the mood for, and we'll go from there. That sound good?" Bucky nodded as you let yourself into your room. The evening had taken an unexpected turn, but you found you were looking forward to spending more time in the company of Bucky Barnes.

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

[leosficlist]

Post S3 Getting Together

Here for your reading pleasure are the fics I had bookmarked that take place after Series 3 or diverge from canon somewhere in there. Post-Mary, some acknowledging the wedding, a few with Rosie.

Lines Written In Kensington Gardens by CaitlinFairchild 6.1k words

Thirty-five was the established boundary, Sherlock decided after extensive calculations. He would be dead by thirty-five. That was the kind of man he was. That was the kind of life he lived.

At thirty-four, a year before his appointed rendezvous with oblivion, Sherlock met a man. Nobody special, or so he thought, an ordinary man--who soon proved extraordinary, a man who killed without hesitation to protect a life Sherlock cared nothing about.

This is the story of how Sherlock Holmes lived long enough to grow old.

Vena Cava by SilentAuror 27.4k

Sherlock has been shot in the chest; John has been shot in the heart. Though everything is broken, they do their best to heal the wounds that Mary left on them both.

All Wrapped Up by ThorntonsHeart 4.9k words

“John is back in Baker Street where he belongs but the Christmas present wrapping isn't going well! Of course, it's just another one of Sherlock's amazing gifts that he can wrap anything. John challenges him to prove it. Silliness ensues, chances are taken and the boys finally get everything they ever wanted for Christmas.”

notes: slight pwp, but romantic and lovely getting together

Nobody, Not Even the Rain, has Such Small Hands by miss_frankenstein 3.6k

“Will you need fresh socks?”

Sherlock’s voice immediately brings John back to the present. “What?”

Sherlock gestures irritably to the wet socks clutched in John’s hand. “Socks,” he says again sharply because he hates repeating himself, “Will you need fresh socks?”

notes: set somewhere in S3, John finally seizes his chance with Sherlock, Mary be damned. kinda arguing pre-confession

Your Daughter by agirlsname 9.3k words

Five times Sherlock held John's baby and one time he held John.

John didn't forgive Mary for shooting Sherlock, so the end of HLV didn't happen. When the baby comes John lives with Sherlock at Baker Street, and they take care of the newborn together. Sherlock adores her more than he's prepared for. Oh, and he might have something important to confess to John...

notes: absolutely beautiful devotional from Sherlock to the babygirl, who has no name mentioned.

Right Hand Man by SilentAuror 42k words

When John's left arm becomes paralysed after a car accident, Mary asks Sherlock to take him back to Baker Street to recuperate, as she's about to give birth. Despite the fact that the search for Moriarty is ongoing, Sherlock takes John in and takes responsibility for overseeing his rehabilitation as he adjusts to the loss of his arm.

notes: loved their slow paced getting together, heart clenching intimacy. post s3 in that it acknowledges that Mary shot Sherlock.

Are you happy? by amateurwriter 2.9k words

"The only option is, that you have some sort of a plan. Some crazy, brilliant plan that requires me living with her. So please, Sherlock. Tell me. I won't even be mad that you're keeping such essential things from me again. I promise. Just tell me. Tell me it's not much longer and I can come back here and just be with you like we were before. Tell me, Sherlock."

notes: porn with plot

Inked in Memory by 221b_hound 9.7k words

John has been back at Baker Street for a year, following the debacle that ended in Mary's death. Things are good. Back almost to what they used to be. Sherlock might wish they were something else, now, but he only has himself to blame, he thinks. It's too late, now, for the things he first denied before he'd ruined any chances he might have had.

Sherlock also thinks that people who get tattoos are idiots. But perhaps he's about to learn a thing or two, not least of which might be it's not as late as he thinks it is.

Many Happy Returns by sussexbound  5.5k

One did not surprise Sherlock Holmes on his birthday. It was not his ‘thing’. It was rarely appreciated. John knows this. He knows, but… [] But John can’t forget. [] All those things only made John love him more, but therein lies the problem, and the source of all his current turmoil. John loves Sherlock.

The Romance Was There by apliddell 4k words

In which Sherlock reveals his merits as a housekeeper, and a few other things, too.

notes: christmastime, domestic fluffy, harry over for the holidays, sharing a bed, sherlock writes a love letter

Eggs and Toast and Love Confessions by allonsys_girl 10.3k words

These two really are such idiots, but they figure it out in the end.

notes: loved their characterizations and their chemistry, realistic first time after getting together, john's bad at talking about his feelings

State of Flux by Atiki 24.6k

John’s marriage is over and he is finally back home (i.e. at Baker Street, where he belongs). Sherlock is awfully insecure and John is awfully hesitant, and they're both awkward idiots, of course, but they figure it out. Many First Times happen.

notes: love how they talk about their feelings, slowburn that doesn't drag

The Date (reprise) by distantstarlight 1.9k words

Sherlock Holmes is feeling low and blue but John is having none of it. It's Christmas Eve, and things to do.

notes: fluffy christmas getting together, mentions of mary so putting it in post s3

The Dread Pirate Roberts by loveanddeathandartandtaxes  1.2k words

"We first need to know if this new Moriarty is as… zealous as the last.” “I bet your boyfriend wasn’t secretly a lying assassin who tried to kill your best friend, though,” I can’t resist grumbling. Ever the drama queen, he throws his hands in the air and sighs loudly. “Can we please - just - focus, John?” Putting my hand to my face, I shake my head. “I’m sorry, I just thought having boyfriends wasn’t a thing you did.”

notes: if you like john leaving mary for sherlock

[yandere-sins]

have you ever thought of the scenario where the reader is eventually released in some of your prison projects? Mostly pertaining to the guards since they wouldn’t be able to get to the reader much. As an aside of sorts, I’m glad you’re doing better.

I thought about this more than I want to admit if I'm honest lol! 

♡ It probably comes down to the personality of the yan! There are always those imprisoned yandere that would go absolutely crazy and mad with heartbreak now that the darling is gone. They are irritable and moody, and the other prisoners learn to avoid them for their own health. The yandere are restless, searching, trying to replace the missing piece of their heart with violence and superficial pleasures, counting down the days until their release with the image of you always at the forefront of their mind. They'll be bursting through the prison doors once they open, hunting you down like rabid dogs high on adrenaline and their need for you. They'd do anything to hug you again, and it's the only thing keeping them alive while they anxiously await their time. But once you are back in their sight, they'll make sure to never let go of you again.

♡ On the other hand, are the imprisoned yans that won't let you be taken from them. They will try to prolong your sentence for as long as possible, pulling the strings in the back while you cry to them about how awful the judicial system is, happy to comfort you. If you do manage to slip from their grasp, they have the freedom to decide to finally play nice. They'll be a paragon of a model prisoner, so helpful and well-adjusted to society that they can quickly be released sooner. And until then, they'll have someone they know outside of prison follow your every step and report back, salivating over the pictures of you doing mundane tasks. They imagine the picture-perfect life you two will have after their release, and the anticipation is such delicious torture for their mad minds that the line between their sweet imagination and the horrific reality grows blurrier by the second.

♡ It's somewhat the same with the guard!yandere. Some of them might resort to more crude tactics like becoming your stalker whenever they are off work, breaking into your home for souvenirs to fawn over while they are at work, and watching you dance around your kitchen from across the street, imagining themselves being by your side. They have the means and skills to work undercover, so you will barely perceive the changes their presence brings to your life. Or, if available or by pretending, they'll take up the job of being the officer assigned to ensure you're following your requirements for your release and that you won't relapse into your crime. Hence, they still have a chance to be around you with no one suspecting anything. You will know, they will know, but their track record is better than yours. Who will believe you if you complain about an upstanding officer? How about, instead, you just try to enjoy the alone time the two of you finally have, just like your yan does?

♡ Others will do anything in their power to make you stay right where they can watch you—in prison. It's easy to prolong a sentence when they can connect you to a crime, like paying some thugs to instigate a fight to ruin your good reputation that would allow you to leave early. Or maybe they'll leave a door open that you and some others can find and try to 'escape' from so your record will have an attempted breakout in it. How about they just kill your cellmate and smear the blood on your hands? It's so easy for a corrupted guard who knows what they want to make sure you'll never get out as long as they are there. Most of them are not shy to let you know why your sentence was prolonged and why your life has become an even bigger hell; more prisoners now angry with you since they have all been punished as well. You'll need to stick close to your guard if you don't want to get hurt! Not that they'd let anyone hurt you; they are your guard in shining armor, after all. But they'll wait eagerly until you search for their protection and comfort, even if their patience is wearing thin.

[thezombieprostitute]

Garbage Men - Mafia AU

The “Garbage Men” are the guys in the mob who get the dirt on others and clean up after the higher ups. They have many different ways of gathering intel, including running legitimate businesses, keeping ears to the ground, knowing who to bribe and more.

Curtis Everett

Dream Come True (Arc 1)

Summary: One legitimate business is Jefferson/Jensen’s cyber cafe where you regularly go to work. You’ve actually become good friends with Jefferson’s daughter and Jensen’s niece. You even volunteered as their after-school tutor. One day, there’s a robbery attempt where you get hurt protecting the girls. This is how you are introduced to Curtis Everett, the guy in charge of the “Garbage Men”.

💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚

Nightmares (Arc 2)

Summary: You and Curtis are having to deal with literal and figurative nightmares while working to make sure the Garbage Men operation runs smoothly.

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Asks/Drabbles:

Curtis's Dreams

Reader's Dreams

Rough Day Cure

Relationship Asks - Clothing & Nightly Routine

James Mace

Sparks Fly (Arc 1)

Summary: After working as an engineer for Wilford & Gilliam Trust for several years you find evidence of seedy dealings and burned books. After turning in the evidence you find yourself in danger and seek help. You're taken into the protection of a mob family where you run into your high school best friend, Mace.

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Frayed (Arc 2)

Summary: There are so many new things happening in your life that the only two things you can count on are your boyfriend, Mace, and that your life almost always in danger.

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Asks/Drabbles:

Caught in the Rain

Guilty Pleasure

Ticklish

Relationship Asks - Apologizing and Separation

Nick Fowler

Changing Minds (Arc 1)

Summary: Your long time work acquaintance Nick Fowler offers to take you to a fancy fundraiser as a way of cheering you up. He insists it's only as friends but when he sees you falling into the grasp of someone he knows is no good, he might change his mind on that.

🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼

Constant Change (Arc 2)

Summary: You and Nick must navigate the new territories of pregnancy and parenting while managing the continued hostility from Clark Kent.

🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼

Ask/Drabbles:

Relationship Asks - Initiation, Separation and Nonverbal communication

Steve Rogers

Hummingbird (Arc 1)

Summary: You didn't want to break into someone's party but you were desperate to see the art at the gallery before it was gone. You're so busy trying to make sure no one sees you that you miss the ever present gaze of Steve Rogers who is wondering why you crashed his party.

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Dragonfly (Arc 2)

Summary: Steve has just about everything he could ever want in life. He's got you, a baby on the way, and a successful Family. No one would dare interfere with that. Right?

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Asks/Drabbles:

Hummingbird's Favorites

Kisses

Steve Sees You

Thief AU

Relationship Asks - Love languages - Nonverbal communication and Separation - Sleeping and Cooking

Nonspecific Asks and Drabbles

Fall Activities

Handling the Heat

Honey Pot (Hal Carter)

Kink Matching

Reader Swap (Hal Carter, Nick Fowler)

What If?

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

The triplets kittens snuck in to NRC to see their big sister figure Crewle daughter, and seeing her they all are happy and admire her alot, and she adore them as if they are their siblings

What's more that childhood friends knows if you're close when they called you big brother

Vil, Leona, Azul, Jade, Floyd, and Deuce be when the kitties calling them big brother and quietly said " can you marry big sis (yn)?? We think you'll be a good mate/husband for them "

The Kittens | Crewel Daughter Reader

The kittens would rather infiltrate the princess academy because that is where you usually are

And when they do they’re pampered beyond compare

So its entirely different when they end up in NRC

Now the thing with NRC is that the school is on a private island

That takes a lot to travel to anyway 

So the only way they’ll end up there is through nefarious means

Beating up and apprehending their kidnapper

They don’t know what to do but they recognize their beloved godfather

“Ah my little kittens, what are you doing here?”

Appalled by their journey 

he takes good care of them and eventually the beast children meet your obsessive suitors:

Vil Schoenheit 

“So Miwster Vil?”

“Yes, young Marie?”

“Awr you taken by anyone?”

“You mean…romantically? Well, you know me and (Y/n) have been together since the beginning.”

“Ooooh so you’ll marry godsiwster one day?” 

“Hehehe, yes.”

He knows he’s destined to be with you

He’s just happy your godsiblings can recognize him as your lover already

He treats them well despite Toulese and Berlioz puffing their chests at him 

Whipping children into beautiful shape is his expertise

Naturally, when Duchess is finally able to pick them up she recognizes him 

“Oh thank you, Vil! Their hair! And their dress! They look divine! But even in your youth, you were such a proper gentleman!”

“Why thank you, Duchess. Your praise is an honor.”

He expects this will carry over when Duchess and Marie talk next

Leona Kingscholar

“Hey! Big Bwother!”

“Ugh what?!” 

“Are you gonna marry (Y/n)!?!?”

“What?”

“Big sis! Are you gonna be her mate fwor life?”

“...Yeah, if anyone tells you different bite them for me.”

“Yes th-thwir!”

Toulouse the little orange cat boy is set on following the strong lion around

Similar to Cheka in that he endlessly follows Leona around

But his energy is more like Jack in that he admires the dorm leader’s strength and coolness

He doesn’t immediately push him away because he’s so familiar with you

He knows this kid will be singing his praises to you when he finally meets back up with you

“Y-your highness!? I apologize for any trouble my son might have given you!”

“It’s fine. The little tiger is definitely going places.”

“I’m so grateful! Thank you, your highness.”

Yeah, he better deliver

Maybe putting the wall of you visiting if the little tike ever wants to see him again

Azul Ashengrotto

“You’re vewy smart big browther!”

“Why thank you!”

“Will you marry big sis (Y/n)?”

“E-excuse me?”

Berlioz takes to his side right away

Proudly wearing his tie as he cutely escorts guests around

His glasses fog up in heat as he imagines what your kid would be like

Not only will this kid give him rapor with you 

The Duchess is a renowned noble in the Shaftlands

A wonderful investor and corroborator for any romantic ventures

“It was an honor tending to your child, he was a pleasure.”

“Well, that certainly puts me at ease. You’re such a bright young man it's hard to believe your so young. Your maturity reminds me of (Y/n) do you know her.”

“Oh I do. More than you’d believe”

Jade Leech 

“Well here you are little lady.”

“Why thank you Jade! You truly are quite the gentleman. Big Sis (Y/n) would looove you.”

“Oh would she?”

“Mmmhmm I’ll tell her about you when I get home. But! You have to let me be the flower girl at your wedding, okay?”

“Yes, m’lady.”

He’s got his gentleman butler+ act on lock 

Perfect for catering to Marie’s little lady personality

And like a little noble lady she makes promises and is bound to gossip

Which seems to be in favor of Jade 

Who smiles as he recognizes the behaviors that she’s copied 

From you of course

“Duchess your daughter was a lovely guest.”

“I can’t help but thank you for taking care of her.”

“And I humbly accept.”

Floyd Leech

“Oi oi where ya going so fast?”

“I’m running because I know I need to train to be the fastest tiger ever!”

“Ah? Then let me help you!”

“Wow! You're so fast and strong! I’d say you're a perfwect mwate for Big Sis (Y/n).”

“Yeah I think so too.”

He enjoys the seemingly endless energy of Toulouse 

He only runs faster because he’s pumped just thinking about you in the future

Sitting back while he runs with your little one

It's just a matter of time

“Thank you, Floyd. Toulouse is tired out but it seems he had fun.”

“Yeah we did! He was a blast!”

He thinks fondly of him but doesn’t expect much until you thank him later

Deuce Spade

“Ya ever think about marryin’ Big Sis (Y/n)?”

“W-what?! What are y–”

“I think you should. I'd like to have more fun with you!”

He doesn’t connect that Berloiz and you are related in any way

Until the little cat boy flicks his ears as Deuce offhandedly swoons as he talks about you

When he does he gets flustered 

Before getting laughed at and going back to playing with him

He bows deeply to Duchess when she returns

“T-thank you for being there for (Y/n)! Consider this a small thank you for that!”

“Oh? Such vigor for a young man. Well, I am grateful you watched over my little gent. I’m sure (Y/n) would be pleased as well.”

“R-really?!” 

He can’t help blushing aggressively at your name

He hopes the duchess doesn’t laugh at him when she tells you

[hedonists-den]

Not really a POV for this one. Just sharing some musings and a scenario where I condition you to be a mindless, pleasure/hunger-driven fatty!

Enjoy! 💜

TRANSCRIPT:

There’s a part of me that wants to make sure you always have more than enough food, no matter what, at all times. A good, doting feeder that doesn’t ask anything of you.

But every now and then, there’s this urge to give you just shy of enough. I know how much you really need, but I want you to tell me how you're still hungry even after all I've fed you. I want you to hear yourself admit to me that you need more, even when you’ve eaten more than the average person could. But will you admit it? I suppose it depends on how long you've been mine. 

When you first start this hedonistic life that I offer you, I can imagine you're shy about it. Timid about your rapidly increasing appetite. Or, maybe you’re a brat about it. Can’t accept giving up control so easily. Either way, you’re hesitant to lose yourself to it just yet. You're dipping your feet in, but you worry about what might happen if you fully accept your life as a domestic glutton.

But when you're sitting there, in the aftermath of the first round of gorging yourself one night, you can't help but want more. Your greed is undeniable. You don't want to admit it, but you can't stop yourself this time. You’re just too hungry for more. You ask me for a second full meal, just after your first. 

"I guess enough food for two people isn't enough for you, is it?"

I drink in the adorably embarrassed look on your face as you squirm over what a greedy little pig you’ve admitted that you are. It may not seem like a big deal this time, but you’ve taken the first step, and there’s no going back. Not now that there’s precedent.

The next time, I’m a little more direct about it. You finish your second meal, as you’ve become accustomed to, and I have dessert ready for you. But you don’t get it that easily this time. 

“Ask nicely,” I demand. 

You look up at me. I can practically feel how badly you want the tray of brownies in my hands. Homemade, warm and soft, still a little gooey in the middle, your favorite. You ask for them, even adding a sweet little “please” at the end. I reach down and grip your belly roll. 

“Again,” I urge, fondling your pretty gut.

You ask again, very nicely, through heaving breaths. I decide that’s good enough, give your belly a nice pat, and set the tray on it. You start digging in immediately. Like a hog at the trough. You’re getting more and more willing to do whatever I ask, so long as you can feel the rush of complete indulgence. 

But I want to make sure that the sensation doesn’t stop at just a rush. It has to be a deeper craving. More primal. More intense.

So when I began slipping my hand under your mound of a gut, between those cellulite-ridden thunder thighs of yours, and pleasuring you for every bite you take, oh you started really packing on weight, didn’t you? And there hasn’t been a feast since where you weren’t stimulated the whole way through. I admit, I never let you cum until I’m satisfied with how full you are, but you never disappoint, and you always earn it. 

It’s like you’ve had this in you all along. You just needed the right person to enable you and push you to be the best hedonist that you could be. Sure, I play the part of the good feeder a majority of the time. But I think we owe it to the dominant feeder in me for how desperate you are to eat and grow now. And I want to see just how fat you’ll let me make you.

[alwaysonthemend]

Author's Note: Requested by the lovely @mindastreamofcolours Please don't throw tomatoes at me I know this has taken FAR too long (I'm the worst I'm so sorry) But I hope the length is enough of an apology for the wait. If you see any typos... no you didn't

Also sorry if you got tagged twice. Tumblr was against me posting this apparently and I was ✨struggling✨ but I think I got it fixed now.

Warnings: Fem!reader, threesome (no slash) / unprotected sex / spitting / spanking / oral (m. and f. receiving) / hand jobs / masturbation / voyeurism / arguing / josh being josh / jake being a little shit / dom and sub jake / dom and sub reader / soft!dom josh / MINORS ABSOLUTELY DNI. 18+ ONLY PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD

Word Count: 7k+

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽ ✺ ☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

It started years ago – this little… arrangement that the three of you have. And at this point, none of you can even really remember how it had started. But, you suppose, the why and how don’t really matter anymore. 

All that matters is them. 

All that matters is that your life had changed from the very minute you were hired as their makeup artist. Your life changed to revolve around them and their needs. 

And you love every second of it. 

The rules (though none of you have ever really stated them outright) have always been simple. 

One: Don’t talk about it with anyone else. No one needs to know what goes on behind closed doors and no one needs to concern themselves with something they won’t understand. This works for you three and involving others would only complicate things. 

Two: No jealousy. At least, no more than a little showing out here and there. They work together (and they love each other more than anything else in the world) and this cannot ever get in the way. No questions, no pissing contests, no anger, no holding it against each other. There are nights where you leave with Josh and there are nights where you leave with Jake. There’s nothing else to it. 

And finally, three: Never at the same time. 

The arrangement is simple, really. You’re there to help them get their frustrations out now that they’re far too famous to be sleeping around with just any old roadie like the old days. They trust you. And you trust them. It’s easier this way for everyone. They get to blow off some steam and you get the most mind blowing sex of your life – all while getting to travel around the world doing what you love (for a handsome paycheck). 

Plus, there’s satisfaction in knowing that despite there being thousands of men and women out there who would give anything to have them the way you do… it’s you who they go to. It’s you who they trust. 

And anyways, you’re fairly certain that none of those screaming fans would be able to handle them like you can. 

Though it had taken time, you had learned over the years what makes each of them tick – the thing that drives each of them absolutely crazy. 

They’re both so similar and yet so different at the same time. Sun and moon, yin and yang… whatever you might call it – they balance each other in a way that few can understand. 

Their differences are subtle, and yet they make all the difference in the world. 

Josh loves to watch you. He wants to see how your face contorts in pleasure and how your tits bounce when he fucks you. He wants you on your back with your knees up to your chest so he can watch his cock slide in and out of you. He wants to watch you unravel around his cock as he whispers sweet things into your ear. Good girl, clever girl, beautiful girl. All you have to do is lay there and take it – let him pleasure you with his skilled tongue and big cock. Call him baby and Joshy in your sweetest voice and he falls apart inside your cunt, whining and moaning so prettily for you. Josh will give you orgasm after orgasm after orgasm until your body just can’t take it anymore and when you’re finally spent – laying there in a daze,  he’ll grin and kiss you softly. 

And then there’s Jake. Ever the dark to Josh’s light… he wants you to beg for it. He wants you cock drunk and desperate as he brings you to the edge over and over and over again until you’re left as nothing but a whiny mess beneath him. He demands respect. You call him sir or you will receive punishment. You do not cum unless he tells you to. You are obedient to him and him alone (though he always remains a slave to your pleasure despite himself). He likes you on your hands and knees where he can grip your hips and reach around to squeeze your throat as he pounds into you mercilessly. And his mouth. The vulgar things that spew from those plump lips of his leave you blushing like a schoolgirl. You’re his whore, his slut, his pretty little hole that he gets to use for the night. And when he finally, finally lets you cum…it’s the closest to Heaven on Earth that you’ll ever get. 

But yet, as different as they are from each other… they’re the same in all the ways that matter. Your pleasure is at the top of their priorities. As much as you are there to help them relieve themselves on the road… they never take you for granted. At the end of the day, you call the shots and you have both of them wrapped around your finger completely. They’ll follow you into the depths of Hell if you ask them – which you’re sure is where all three of you are headed anyway. It’s an addictive little dance that you all play and you’re sure that it can only lead you all down the path of destruction. And yet… none of you can find it in yourselves to care. 

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽ ✺ ☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

You already know that they’re pissed. You can practically smell it in the air as you wait patiently in the green room, waiting. 

They had already been having one of those days – where everything seems to go wrong and they’re both intent on blaming the other for it. You’d been watching them do their dance all day. Listening to their bickering and passive aggressive little remarks at each other as the hours wore on and on. As close as they are… as inseparable as they are, there are days when they can’t seem to stand each other. 

And unfortunately, the tension between the two of them had manifested itself on stage tonight. Of course, you’re 100% certain that none of the members of the audience had even noticed, but you had. And they sure had. 

Josh had been late to the curtain drop. Perpetually late to everything else, he’d always had the decency to at least be on time for his own concerts until tonight. Jake’s shoulders had tensed practically up to his ears at the confused sounds of the crowd as they realized that they were one man short and though you couldn’t see him, you’re sure that the glare that Josh had probably received had been pointed and harsh. 

And then of course Jake’s equipment had malfunctioned briefly, causing him to angrily gesture at his tech to get the problem fixed. It hadn’t taken longer than two minutes and few even noticed the mishap, but the shit eating grin that Josh had given Jake only added to his building rage. 

And finally, the nail in the metaphorical coffin for the night… Jake had decided that it would be a wonderful idea to cut Josh off in the middle of one of his little bits, effectively silencing his joke with a piercing whine from his guitar. 

You’d known immediately that it was over. They'd pushed each other far enough and you would be the one to suffer the (delicious) consequences. It’s just a matter of who gets to you first. 

If Jake reaches you first, you know that you’re in for a night of complete sexual agony and he’ll push you to your limit until he deems you’ve begged him enough for it before finally giving you an orgasm that you’re sure to remember for months to come. And you’ll surely be waking up tomorrow with a bright red ass and a hitch in your step. 

And if Josh gets to you, well… it’s harder to tell with him. Perhaps he’ll decide on a vibrator for the night – getting to watch you fall apart serving as the perfect distraction from his troubles. Or perhaps his tongue will instead be his weapon of choice, using it to make you cum until you physically can’t anymore. 

Either option sounds wonderful and you can’t quite tell which one you want more. The wait will be well worth it no matter which boy is the one to reach you first. 

– 

The sound of the door opening stirs you from your thoughts. You turn to see Josh (the lucky winner for the night) eyeing you like you’re the most incredible thing he’s ever seen. At this point, you’re pretty sure that you are. 

“Y/n.” 

That’s all he says. It’s all he has to say. Even from here you can see his eyes are blown wide and his chest heaves as his eyes drink in your form. Standing there, cloaked in velvet, he’s the picture of sin. The gemstones on his suit glitter as he stands there and you meet his hungry gaze with an innocent smile. 

“Hi, Joshy. Something wrong?” The lilt in your voice is sickly sweet, building up the tension that will inevitably make him snap. 

He only hums – the sound rumbling deep in his chest. 

“I think you know what's wrong, baby.” He whispers, dropping his hand down to palm his hard cock through the velvet. 

Well shit you think to yourself, an excited thrum coursing through your veins as slick pools between your thighs. If he's starting something here… he's desperate enough to not be able to wait for the short ride back to the hotel. All the signs are pointing to tonight being one that you won't forget. 

“Bad day?” You question, leaning back on the sofa where you're sitting and giving him your very best doe eyes. 

He nods, a sigh escaping from between his teeth as his hand grazes his crotch– his throbbing length obvious to you through the tight material. 

“Anything I can do to make you feel better?” This game is making you even wetter… the promise of what you know is to come. Without another word, you slide your body downwards until your knees hit the floor. You glance at him, patting the sofa with your palm. “Bet I can make you forget all about today, baby.”

“Fuck.”  He practically moans, biting his lip as he stalks across the room to look down at you. “You gonna be my sweet girl? Help me relax?” 

You nod, your mouth watering at the sight of his cock straining the fabric of his jumpsuit.

He grins devilishly, unzipping his suit and pulling the fabric down so that it rests around his thick thighs. With grace, he eases himself down to sit on the sofa, leaning back and spreading his legs. 

He never wears underwear in these tight suits and you’re grateful as you sit and stare at his cock. Flushed red and rock hard, it curves upwards to rest against his belly. 

Making a show of it, you hold your palm open and allow a string of saliva to drip from your mouth into your waiting hand. Josh groans at the sight and you waste no time as you wrap your palm around his length, slowly pumping him as you keep your eyes fixed on his. 

A flush has overtaken his cheeks and a light sheen of sweat beads at his hairline. He's got his plump bottom lip caught between his teeth as he fights to keep his eyes from rolling back. He wants to watch you stroke his cock. 

You drop your focus to his throbbing erection, flicking your wrist as you continue to tease him. You press your thumb into the spot just beneath his head and a whine escapes him. You keep the pace slow – too slow for his liking. Working him up until he can't stand it anymore. 

“Don't tease, baby.” He whispers, his tone soft but demanding. 

His hand covers yours, halting your movement as he gazes down at you. You know what he wants. You open your mouth and stick out your tongue, flattening the muscle as you look up at him through your lashes. 

“Fuck, there she is. My wonderful girl.” He mutters, placing the head of his cock on your tongue. He doesn't push in yet, instead taking a moment to admire the sight before him: you, on your knees, tongue obediently extended and your eyes glittering in the dim light. 

Slowly, teasingly, he slides his length into your mouth and you close your lips around him. Relaxing your jaw, you allow the blunt head of his length to hit the back of your throat. You gag slightly around it, exhaling strongly through your nose. Placing both of your palms on his thighs, you dig your fingers into the meat of them as you start to bob your head up and down. You keep your tongue pressed into the underside of him, drawing a loud moan from between his pretty lips. 

You pull out all the tricks you know, making sure to gag every now and then because you know it drives him wild. Tears stream down your cheeks and saliva drips from the corners of your mouth and Josh is quickly coming apart beneath you. 

Just as his cock begins to twitch, signaling his impending orgasm, you’re both broken from your moment at the sound of someone clearing their throat. You pull off him, wide eyes turning to be met with none other than his twin – a dark, dangerous look on his face. 

“What a fucking sight.” He says with a grin, stepping further into the room. 

Josh eyes him warily, his cock softening at Jake’s interruption. 

“What do you want, Jake?” You ask him, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. 

“You’re kinda interrupting something, here.” Josh says snidely, sitting up straighter and pulling his jumpsuit back up to cover his cock. 

“I didn’t say you had to stop.” Jake shrugs, taking a seat in the chair opposite the sofa. “Just patiently waiting for my turn, is all.” 

You quirk a brow at him. He’s never done this before – neither of them have. You can sense the tension and anger radiating off Josh – and Jake seems entirely too comfortable as he sits there watching, a smug little smirk on his face. 

“Wait somewhere else, then.” Josh demands, sitting up straighter and glaring at his brother. 

Jake only meets him with a grin, sitting back in his seat and spreading his legs to get more comfortable. 

“I’m good here. Won’t take long anyway.” 

Despite yourself, you huff a laugh at his joke and then it's your turn for Josh to glare at you.

“Fuck off, Jake.” Josh tells him, jerking his head for the door. “Be fucking thoughtful for once in your life.” 

Jake sits forwards suddenly, placing his elbows on his knees and narrowing his eyes. 

“That’s rich coming from you, brother. Easy for you to say when you always get your fucking way.” 

“That’s not true and you know it.” Josh snaps, eyes fiery. 

Jake scoffs. 

“Fucking diva.” 

“Asshole.” 

“Boys.” You cut in, wiping your palms on your thighs. “Enough. I’m not doing anything with either of you if you’re going to act like children. You,” you glance at Josh, “now you know that you can be controlling and nitpicky sometimes.” Josh’s eyes narrow at you and he opens his mouth to protest but you start in on Jake instead. 

“And you” You glare at Jake, washing the smirk off his face. “You know that you like to stir shit up and make people mad on purpose because you think it's funny. You both have been acting unreasonable all day and you will not be using me as a piece in your little games with each other.” 

Josh looks suitably chastised and Jake too has the decency to look a little guilty. You rise from your place on the floor, knees protesting slightly. Both of their brown eyes track your movements, their facial expressions exactly alike. Fucking twins you think to yourself. 

“Can you please make him leave?” Josh begs, pleading with you with his eyes and a tiny pout on his lips. 

“No. I’m the one who’s leaving. I’m not fucking either of you until this” you gesture between the two of them, “gets resolved. You both know what room I’m in. Get your shit together and figure it out.” 

With that, you stalk confidently across the room, throwing open the door and making your way to the exit of the venue. Just as you round the corner, faintly you can hear Josh’s voice – angry and high pitched, “You couldn’t even let me have one fucking moment with her, could you? You asshole!” 

Rolling your eyes, you call an Uber and wait for it to take you back to your hotel. 

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽ ✺ ☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

You take a nice, hot shower as soon as you get back. You take your time, allowing yourself to relax and forget about your idiotic twins. Once you get out and dry off, you check your phone to see a text from Jake. 

I’m sorry.  

You just giggle at the message. You know he’s never being malicious. But he does enjoy stirring shit up sometimes without really thinking about the consequences. You figure you’ll leave him on ‘read’ for now so he can sit there tonight and stew for a little bit.

Just as you turn it off, the screen lights up again with a text from Josh. 

im sorry baby

You figure you can answer him. He hadn’t been the one to try and involve you in their pissing match anyways. You send him a quick ‘It’s okay.’ before turning your phone off for good. Once changed into a pair of comfortable cotton panties and a tank top, you slip under the covers in the hopes of getting some good sleep. 

–  

A loud knock wakes you. 

Sitting up, you rub your eyes and try to get your bearings. You’d been sound asleep. 

Another knock against the door. 

“Fuck, coming!” You call, climbing out of bed and making your way to the door, fully expecting one of the twins to be waiting on the other side. 

The door swings open and you stop dead in your tracks. Both twins stand across the threshold, matching twinkles in their eyes. 

“Hey, angel.” Jake says kindly, as if both of them showing up at your door in the middle of the night is perfectly normal. 

“Um. Hi?”

“May we come in?” Josh asks you, grinning slightly as he takes in your state of (un) dress. 

“I guess?” You step aside, allowing them both to step into the room (annoyingly in sync as they walk). You close the door and lock it behind you. “Is everything okay?” 

“Wonderful, actually.” Jake says, plopping himself down in the desk chair and swiveling back around to look at you. 

“You and Josh figure things out, then?”

“Yup.” Josh says, popping the ‘p.’ 

“Great.” 

They’re both silent for a minute, making you squirm slightly under their dual gazes. They know something… or want something. You can feel it in the air. They’re up to something. Whether good or bad… you have no fucking clue. 

“Is there a reason that you’re both here?” You ask, sitting on the edge of the bed as Josh comes to stand in the middle of the room. 

“Yes. Though whether or not both of us stay is up to you.” Josh starts, glancing back at his twin for a moment before continuing. “See, we realized that we were both being a little overly dramatic today.” 

“Which Josh started.” Jake butts in. 

“Shut up, Jake.” Josh says, narrowing his eyes again and you’re worried that they’re going to start all over again. But Josh lets it slide. “And neither of us really want to give you up for the night seeing as how we’ve both had such a shit day.” He pauses and looks pointedly at Jake. “Regardless of who started it.” 

“And see… we thought that maybe – just this once, neither of us should have to wait. Figured that maybe we could share you for tonight.” Jake cuts in. 

“Share me?” You ask slowly, brain working a mile a minute as it tries to make sense of his words. Surely he doesn’t mean… right?

“Only if you’re comfortable, of course.” Josh says easily, hands moving about slightly as he speaks. “Or you can tell us to fuck off and we’ll leave you alone for the night.”

You swallow thickly, heart thrumming. 

“Share me…” You echo, brows pinched together. “As in, you both… with me. At the same time.” You speak slowly, still trying to wrap your head around the idea.

“In essence, yes. If you’d like to.” Jake says. 

You’re silent for a long moment – each of them waiting patiently for you to speak again. You’d be a big fat liar if you said that you hadn’t thought about it before. Having both of them… the ultimate sin that your mind loves to throw at you whenever you’re alone. Nights in between touring when you lay alone in bed, your own hand between your thighs to relieve the ache that the twins leave in their absence. Your thoughts – unable to choose, swirling between both of them. Their faces, the same but not, plaguing your mind’s eye and making your aching pussy soaked. Josh’s sugary words and Jake’s dirty compliments echoing through your ears all mixed up. The thought of having both of them at once – as wrong as it may be… just the thought alone usualy has you coming apart in seconds. 

And now here they are, offering you your deepest desire on a silver fucking platter. 

“Okay.”  You breathe out, voice shaky but sure. 

“You’re sure?” Josh asks, stepping towards you and brushing his fingertips down your cheek. “It’s your choice.”

“You won’t hurt our feelings by saying no.” Jake adds, smiling ever so softly at you. 

“And I’m saying yes.” You tell him with all the confidence that you can. Because you do want this. More than anything. You want to be fucking ruined. 

And yet… you’re not sure where to start. This is new territory – one that feels as though it’s too good to be true. Perhaps it is. 

“I believe I interrupted something earlier.” Jake says, once again leaning backwards in his chair. “Perhaps we can start by letting you finish what you started.”

Jake must have sensed your hesitance, deciding instead to tell you where to start. You’re infinitely grateful for him and his ability to sense when you need guidance.This is familiar for you – letting him take control. It’s natural the way his velvet voice tells you what to do. It makes this easy. 

You nod, gaze sweeping to where Josh stands, his face eager as he watches you slide off the bed to come and stand before him. 

“On your knees for me, sweet girl.” Josh whispers, easing his sweatpants off his hips and then hooking his fingers in the elastic of his boxers and pulls them down as well. He’s already hard and leaking, probably aching to be touched after being interrupted earlier. Slowly, you ease down onto your knees. 

“Suck his cock, angel. Make him feel good.” Jake’s voice is smooth as whiskey, just barely above a whisper. 

You do as he says, opening wide and letting Josh slide his cock back into your waiting mouth. 

“Shit.” He hisses, tossing his head back as his tip hits your throat. His hand comes up to tangle in your hair as he begins to thrust into you softly, giving your throat a moment to adjust to the intrusion before picking up his pace. 

You can feel the wetness between your thighs as you sit there letting him use your mouth – the cotton of your panties surely completely drenched through. Something about the noises Josh is making coupled with the feeling of Jake’s dark gaze on you has you feeling like you could come completely untouched before the night is over. 

The sound of a zipper being undone has you pull off Josh and snap your gaze over to Jake – Josh whimpers at the loss of contact but you’re more concerned with the sight of Jake easing his own hard cock from his pants and wrapping his fist around himself. He strokes his hard length lazily, eyes never leaving you. 

“Did I tell you to stop?” He asks, a sharp edge to his voice. “Keep sucking him, angel. You look so pretty like that.”

Josh’s finger hooks beneath your chin, forcing your focus back onto him and you gasp at the sight. His eyes, normally a soft brown, are blown almost black with lust. His cheeks are flushed and his breathing is heavy as he gazes down at you. 

“Focus on me.” He says softly, his thumb coming down to caress your bottom lip. He tugs at it, dragging it downwards slightly before gripping your jaw a little harder. 

You take the hint and open your mouth again. 

“Good girl.” 

This time, you do give him your full attention as his thrusts into your mouth grow more confident. You gag around him and you hear Jake let out a quiet little groan at the sound. Spurred on, you relax your jaw even more, taking Josh even deeper. 

“Oh fuck.” Josh whines, head tossed back in pleasure. “Good fucking girl.” 

His cock twitches on your tongue and he pulls out, a string of saliva connecting his flushed tip to your mouth. 

You pout slightly, having wanted to taste his release but he only smiles at you. 

“Not yet, baby. I wanna savor this.” He caresses your jaw lovingly. “On the bed.” 

You hastily comply, scrambling to sit in the middle of the large bed and looking at your twins – waiting for them to tell you what to do. 

“Look at that.” Jake says with no small amount of pride in his voice as he stands up and begins to strip from his clothes before striding over to the side of the bed. You take a long moment to admire him. 

You eye the way his biceps and forearms flex as he moves, your mouth waters as you admire his plush thighs, and your own thighs clench at the way the strength of his body is balanced by his curves that are so rare to find in a man. He’s nothing short of breathtaking.

“Always so eager to please. Just waiting to be told what to do.”  He hums, hand still lazily stroking his leaking cock. “Strip.”

“That’s a good girl.” Josh mutters, watching you with hungry eyes as you pull your tank top over your head and slide your soaked panties down your legs, kicking them to the floor. 

Josh, the only one still clothed, begins to strip himself – but your focus is ripped from him as Jake comes to stand at the edge of the bed. He grips your calf in his strong, calloused hand, using it to yank your body around and onto your back. There’s no finesse to his movements as he manhandles you into the position he wants, the hunger in his eyes infinitely clear. 

Once on your back, Josh climbs into the bed between your thighs. He settles his weight between them, using his palms to spread your legs wider and exposing your glistening folds. His back muscles flex as his lithe form settles, his amber eyes glittering up at you. 

“She’s dripping.” Josh murmurs, tongue darting out to lick his plush bottom lip. “Stunning.” 

You whine, inching your hips towards him slightly, your core aching to be touched. 

“Desperate little thing.” Jake’s velvet voice rings out through the room, his hand coming down to tangle in your hair. He stands at the edge of the bed, his hard cock merely inches away from where your head hangs off the edge.

Another pulse of need rocks through you as your brain catches on to the possibilities that this position grants you. With Josh nestled between your thighs and Jake’s aching member so close to your mouth, you have no doubts about where this is going. 

As if in answer to your sinful thoughts, Josh swipes a finger through your folds, just barely brushing against your swollen clit and making you jolt. 

“Josh, please.” You whine, spreading your legs wider for him – begging him silently to give you more. 

“She just loves to be eaten out, don’t you?” Jake murmurs, looking down at you squirm on the bed. “Go ahead, Josh. Give her what she wants.” 

Josh relents, delving into your core and circling your bundle of nerves with his tongue. The feeling is sudden – aggressive even, and the stimulation makes you cry out loudly. He hooks his arms around both of your thighs as he begins his assault, using his talented tongue to completely unravel you. 

Jake, never one to let the spotlight last on Josh for too long, taps the head of his cock on your lips. Without hesitation, you open your mouth and let him slide his member between your lips. With your neck hanging downwards, he reaches all the way to your throat with ease. You moan and swallow around him, making his composure crack slightly as a groan escapes him.

“Fuck. Perfect little mouth.” He praises, beginning to thrust delicately into you. “Tap on my thigh and I’ll stop.” He says through clenched teeth and all you can do is moan around his cock in response. 

Josh’s slender fingers suddenly join in the mix as he plunges them into you – curling them in a way that makes your legs feel like jelly as he keeps lapping at your clit with your tongue. He moans as he does so, his hips rutting into the mattress below him as he pleasures you. 

If your mouth wasn’t otherwise occupied, you’re sure that you’d be screaming from the pleasure. Between Josh’s menstrations and the sound of Jake’s breathy moans as he fucks into your mouth, your orgasm is already rapidly approaching. 

Your arms thrash about widely, finally coming down to fist into the sheets as the crest of pleasure builds within you. Josh is unrelenting, using all the things that he knows makes you fall apart. Jake is faring no better than you, his face twisting and contorting in pleasure. 

“Come on, Y/n. Be a good slut and cum, baby.” He encourages, voice shaky with his own pleasure. “Enjoy it. You’re not gonna get another one for a long while.” 

With that, the band snaps and your orgasm rips through you – drenching Josh’s face as he works you through it. Jake pulls from your mouth, allowing you a chance to get a full gulp of air as you writhe beneath them. 

Josh sits up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and grinning from ear to ear. 

“Tastes like candy.” He says, licking his lips as he gazes at your spread out form. 

All you can do is lay there stunned for a moment as you recover, chest heaving. 

“She’s a sight for sore eyes.” Jake murmurs, caressing your jawline with his pointer finger. “Bet that pretty pussy is just aching to get fucked, isn’t she?” 

You nod, body already aching for another orgasm. 

“Does my beautiful girl want my cock?” Josh asks, gripping your ankles and pulling so that your head now rests fully on the bed. 

Just as you open your mouth to reply, Jake cuts in with a dangerous lilt to his voice. 

“Don’t assume, brother. Maybe she’d prefer someone else’s.” 

“Doubtful.” Josh snarks, glaring daggers at his twin. 

“Fuck, stop.” You breathe out, sitting up to glare at both of them. You try to keep your face stern, but the thought of both of them arguing over who gets to fuck you has more slick pooling between your thighs. “No arguing.” 

“Your choice then, baby.” Josh grins, a smug smile on his face as if he already knows your answer. 

But in truth, even you don’t know. In fact, you have half a mind to let them continue arguing if only to further fuel the fire between your legs. But you figure that encouraging them would only end in all out warfare. Instead, you just grin at them, a wonderful idea coming to life in your mind. 

“Jake.” You start, turning to meet his dark eyes. “Get on the bed.” 

He grins and complies, eyes glittering thinking that he’s going to get his way. He always does when it comes to the bedroom, but tonight you want to challenge him – remind him and Josh who’s really in charge here. 

Jake crawls over to you, a dominant air about him as he moves to smother your body with his own. But instead of allowing it, you press your palm into his chest and push – shoving his back roughly into the headboard. 

Air escapes his lips in a shocked huff as he stares at you – completely taken off guard. Josh, seeing his expression, laughs quietly.  

“Angel, what-” 

You shush him. 

“Quiet.” You glance between him and Josh. “You both said that I’m in control, didn’t you?” You ask, though it’s not really a question. You all know the answer. 

Jake nods and Josh whispers a quiet ‘yes.’

With a grin, you turn your eyes to face Josh, his lips parted and eyes watching your every move – just waiting for you to tell him what you want. 

Without a word, you nudge Jake’s legs further apart before settling yourself on your knees between them. His chest moves up and down rapidly as he looks up at you. Though he’s letting you call the shots, you’re sure that you’ll pay for it some other time. But for now, you’re going to enjoy it.

“You know, Jake…” You murmur, sweeping your palms up his thighs and feeling the muscle twitch beneath your fingertips, “You love calling the shots. Maybe even more than Josh does.” You drop your hand to play with his cock – lightly pinching his tip between your fingertips and making his hips buck upwards off the bed. “I feel like maybe it might be time for a taste of your own medicine, yeah?” 

A delicate, almost silent whimper escapes him. It’s so quiet that you might have thought you imagined it… but the way his cock twitches and his chest heaves gives him away. 

“Josh?” Josh, sitting silently and watching you, perks up as you finally turn your attention back to him. “Come here, baby. Right behind me.”

Josh complies, crawling over behind where you sit between Jake’s thighs. Without a word, you slowly ease your chest downwards, spreading your own thighs and allowing your ass to stick up invitingly in the air for Josh. You wiggle your ass and a shaky exhale punches out of him, his hands coming to rest on your hips. 

As he does so, you sweep your gaze up to meet Jake’s eyes – his pupils blown wide with want. Opening your mouth, you teasingly lick up his shaft, swirling the tip of your tongue around his head, before pulling your mouth away again. 

“You don’t get to come until I say. Understand?” 

He nods and you wrap your arms around his thighs and dig your fingers into the soft flesh. 

“Words.”

“I understand, angel.” 

Tossing your head back over your shoulder to look at Josh, you ease your hips back towards him again. 

“Let me fuck you, pretty girl.” He begs, his hard cock pressing into your ass cheek as he waits for your permission. 

“Go ahead, Joshy.” You tell him, keeping your voice nice and sweet just like he likes. “Make me feel good.” 

You descend your mouth back onto Jake’s aching cock as Josh enters you with one long thrust. You moan, causing Jake to groan at the vibration. 

“Fuck, just like that.” Jake moans, his hand coming up to grip your hair but you swat it away. You want to enjoy the control for a while longer. 

Josh’s hips slam into yours rhythmically, his pace slow and precise. With each glide of his cock against your walls, his head nails that special place inside of you. It takes all of your focus to keep bobbing your head up and down Jake’s length, making sure to keep your tongue pressing up into him – making him writhe and moan as he fights to keep himself from rutting his hips up into your mouth. 

“Baby,” Josh moans, his voice sounding wrecked as his hips increase their speed. “Fuck, I can feel you fluttering around me.” 

The wet sound coming from between your thighs coupled with the sound of Josh’s skin hitting yours and the sound of your mouth moving up and down Jake’s cock makes a delightfully symphony of pure lust and sin. You know already that this night will forever be cemented in your mind for years to come. You will never be able to think of it without growing wet. Josh’s cock is stretching you so wonderfully and Jake’s pretty noises are making your clit throb. 

Saliva dribbles out of the sides of your mouth, drenching Jake’s cock and just by the sound of him alone you can tell that he’s close. Josh’s pace is beginning to grow frenzied, his breaths coming out in tiny little moans as his own orgasm approaches. Hearing both of them, Jake’s hot, aching cock twitching on your tongue, Josh’s cock hitting all the right places… it’s like every one of your senses has been overtaken with them. Their sounds, the feel of them. Fuck it’s the best feeling in the whole fucking world. And as much as you don’t want this to end, you just can’t fight your orgasm anymore. 

You cry out around Jake’s cock, throat constricting around him as your release rips through you. Josh is a moaning mess as his own orgasm overtakes him, his cock painting your walls as he buries himself inside of you. His hips keep going, overstimulating himself with your clenching pussy as he fucks you through your orgasm. 

Finally he pulls out, murmuring praises for you as he tries to calm down. 

Through the haze of pleasure clouding your mind, you register Jake’s cock twitching on your tongue. He needs to cum, his whines echoing over the roaring in your ears as he holds himself back, waiting for your permission. 

You pull off him, robbing him of his finish and a feral growl escapes him at the loss. You’ve enjoyed not giving him what he wants and the power has gone to your head it seems. But you’ve pushed it too far. 

Faster than what you thought possible, Jake sits up and fists your hair in his grasp. He yanks backwards, exposing your throat for him and you can’t help but moan. 

“Brat.” He whispers, leaning in close to you. His eyes look over your shoulder to Josh, who’s eyeing the both of you warily. “Move.” Jake demands, but Josh doesn’t do it. “Move.” He demands again, eyes blazing. 

A fresh wave of slick escapes you, dripping down your thighs and drenching the bed below at the anger in Jake’s voice. Making him wait, telling him what to do… it had been wonderful while it lasted but this is the Jake that you want. 

“Josh.” You whine, unable to face him fully because of Jake’s hold on your hair. “Do as he says.” 

Gingerly, Josh moves up in the bed. As soon as he’s out of the way, Jake grips your waist and flips you, pushing your back into the mattress as he hovers over you. His cock, neglected and no doubt aching, grazes your stomach and your thighs clench together in the hopes of soothing the ache there. 

“I agree to share you for the night, I let you call all the shots. Fuck I even let Josh be the one to fuck you…” He says darkly, his fingers gripping your sides and digging into your skin harshly. “And this is what I get in return, huh?” He laughs, sitting up just a bit to grip his cock in his hand and pump himself a few times, his precum making it easy for him. “No more nice. You’re gonna lie here,” he says, sliding his tip through your wet folds. “And you’re gonna fucking take it.” 

Josh, breaking his silence at last, leans back onto the headboard and spreads his legs. 

“Be good for him, baby girl. Just lie there and look pretty doing it.” 

The shock of his words has you momentarily breathless but then Jake spears you with his cock, effectively silencing your thoughts of anything other than the feeling of him stretching you. You cry out, hands fisting in the sheets at your sides as Jake starts a merciless pace. His hips are like lightning, pounding into you at a pace that you’ve never experienced before. 

From the corner of your vision you can see Josh, his hand dropping between his thighs, his dick rock hard yet again despite having only just cum moments before. He moans your name at the first glide of his hand over his cock, his knees falling open wider and his jaw hanging slack with pleasure. 

"You look so fucking pretty like that, baby." Josh's words come out shaky thanks to the pleasure coursing through him. "Fucking hell."

Jake, his face contorted in almost a snarl, snaps his hips into yours like a man possessed. It’s so fast and so soon after your last orgasm that your pussy feels like it's on fire – icy hot sparks mixing with the pleasure as your body trembles beneath him. You open your mouth to speak – to demand more or for him to stop you have no idea, but all that comes out is a high pitched, whiny moan. 

“I don’t fucking care.” Jake grits out, licking his thumb and dropping it to circle your clit. Your body jolts, the pain of overstimulation finally melting away to fiery pleasure.

Josh’s moans grow louder, the sound of his fist over his cock matching the pace of Jake’s hips – brutally fast and unforgiving. Your name falls from between his lips, interrupted only by groans and whimpers as he brings himself to the edge yet again. 

"Cum for us, baby. Make a mess." Josh encourages, his hand never slowing.

"Give it to me. Come on, angel." Jake's demand is firm but his voice wavers and cracks as he holds himself back.

The band that has been building and building in your lower belly finally snaps and your whole body goes taut, your muscles contracting and shaking uncontrollably as your release washes over you. Jake’s pace finally falters, his hips stuttering and a loud, feral groan falling from between his plump lips as he finally finishes. Josh’s voice rings out as he paints his hand and belly, his own release hitting him at the sight of you. 

– 

As the fog of lust and wanton, filthy desire finally begins to dissipate, the three of you are left lying there trying to get your breathing back under control. As harshly as Jake had been fucking into you just moments before, he’s delicate and soft as he slowly pulls out of you. His hands caress your sides, his rough fingertips ghosting over your skin and making goosebumps rise in their wake. Josh sits up and leans forward to brush your sweaty hair from your forehead. 

You smile lazily up at them, body still buzzing with pleasure but tiredness leaching into your muscles. 

“Better now?” You murmur, a lazy smile on your lips. 

“Infinitely.” Josh answers you, eyes glittering.

“Thank you, angel.” Jake says, pressing a feather light kiss to your belly. “So good for us.” 

“The best, even.” Josh adds, tone equally soft as Jake’s kiss. “And all ours.”

“All yours.” Is all your tired brain can come up with to answer. And it's the truth. You’re theirs. Completely. 

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽ ✺ ☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

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[shini--chan]

Hello there! Can I request a yandere light yagami blackmailing a smart classmate into working as assistance in his ministration and falling for her or a yandere karasuma falling for a normal female teacher of class E? Thank you and have a good day regardless!

Of course you may, and both ideas will be addressed. 

Yandere Light Yagami - The Tree of Insight

What a wondrous day it had been, thinking that you had gone mad. The worst part of it was that that monster had taken the greatest pleasure in taunting, floating above you and quipping and giggling the longer the hours drew by. Not even covering your ears had blocked out the rasping voice, as it had mused that you were awfully particular for a mortal. 

When you got back home, you would go through your family's medical records to see if schizophrenia infected one of the branches - that might explain the hallucinations then.

Ryuk, or that was at least what he called himself, bobbed up and down as he floated to your side. The other students that were walking up and down the road didn't bother him, as he simply fazed right through them. Suddenly, the apparition flew sideways, and out of reflex, you imitated the apparition out of reflex. 

"Keep going that way, kid. You have somebody waitin' for ya", the raspy voice of that… thing, said loud and clear. As fried as your nerves were, you were tempted to lash out, to disobey out of petulance. Today had been a rough day, and it had been reflected in your demeanour.

Your peers had constantly been casting worried glances your way, and even a teacher had pulled you aside to inquire if everything was alright. As touching as you would have normally found it, it had just been annoying and had exacerbated your mounting irritation. By the end of the school day, you had just wanted to be left alone. Maybe that's why you solemnly followed the floating clown’s instructions - yelling out loud would just make you appear mad, and you were also curious to where heeding the directions would lead to. 

There really was somebody waiting for you - a little to the side of the road, at the  edge of the park that was directly next to the school, was Light Yagami. Now that was strange - he normally went home with his friends. Then again, he had been acting weird for the past few weeks, his slightly standoffish nature being amped up to 11. 

As you approached him, he lowered the book that he had been reading, and raised a questioning eyebrow. All of this seemed like a bad idea. Then, the monster ripped the book out of the boy’s hands and added: “Not act so oblivious. You’re gonna get nowhere by playing coy now, kid”. 

Light shot it a baleful look. “Getting bored already, Ryuk?”, he asked slightly. Brown eyes focused on you the entire time, gouging your reactions. Before this conversation could continue without you, you butted in:

“You can see him too, Light? What is your connection to this … thing?”

It was comforting that you weren’t seeing things that weren’t really there, but on the flip side it meant that more sinister things were afoot. Judging from the plotting expression on your classmates face, he surely wouldn’t disappoint when it came to the latter. 

“Ryuk here is a shinigami, and before you ask, he’ll be in your life a while longer. How, that is up to you to decide.”

Why was he being so unusual to the point? Though, his statement did imply that he had a measure of control over this shinigami. An interesting tidbit that you would dwell and muse over in the future. 

“And why that? What do you want from me?”, you asked.

At your sides, your hands balled into fists, with your nails digging into the tender skin of your palms. With each passing second, this situation was becoming worse. While you were quick on your feet, both mentally and physically, the matter at hand was devolving too fast for you to keep up well. There was no chance of you darting a few steps ahead and taking control, and that was probably intended by Light.

“You truly are a delight. It is wonderful to converse with somebody that can keep up so well. In other circumstances, I would have to spoon feed the whole matter bit by bit”, Light mused, his eyes crinkling in a strangely genuine smile. “What I mean, is you either work for me, or I’ll have Ryuk haunt you until your sanity slips.”

Your heart pounded in your ears upon his words. Turning your head slightly, you stared at the shinigami, at those wide bulging eyes, at that too slim face and the staples at the collar. Today has been hell in its own way, with that spirit dogging your every step, holding its one-sided conversation and making life just difficult in general. Since it could interact with the physical world, as it had just demonstrated a few moments ago, which meant it could even drive you to madness. Today just had been a foretaste, and the demon had been holding back. 

This was too much, too fast. As it was, you were tired, and frustrated and disappearing to go live in the middle of nowhere sounded very attractive right now. What other choice did you have but to give in? 

As indicated above, Light would put you in a position where you wouldn’t be operating at full mental capacity and offer you a deal that you can’t refuse. Since there would be many roads to Rome, in this case, he wouldn’t resort to threatening you with the Death Note. If anything, with L tailing him, having you suddenly die or report him as Kira and then die would be very suspicious and make things more complicated than needed. So he would blackmail you the old fashion way, or use Ryuk to some capacity. 

Next to his feelings for you, having you at his side would serve another purpose - you would act in his stead should he be incapacitated. With two people on the job, the whole thing would go even faster, and give the appearance of an organisation to L. Asides, while Light is arrogant and under a lot of scrutiny and thus makes mistakes, you wouldn’t be, or at least not to the extent that Light is. 

Perhaps he’ll even draw you to his side, and make you see things his way. In that case, it would eradicate some of the fears that he would have about you acting against him. Also, with you looking at the other woman in Light’s life, like Misa, you would come to the conclusion that being the goddess of the new world wouldn’t be a really good position to be in. Best stay the secretary. 

Yandere Tadaomi Karasuma - Normie 

Karasuma would be drawn to you exactly because you are normal. You are no government agent or super spy or assassin-in-training. You are just a normal person, caught up in something far too big for you to handle; way out of your depth in many ways. To him, you would represent an opportunity to just switch off from all the official business for a few hours, touch grass and all that jazz. But because you are worlds apart in many a sense, he would start to dig his claws in you. 

Through the whole experience with Koro-sensei, you would be forced into a world where you would have to hit the ground running, and learn fast. Though you’d probably never be on the level where you would be able to go toe-to-toe with any of the special staff, or even the students for that matter, you would still have to be aware of the basics. With that, two things would become a reality - you would gain an understanding of all the spy and agent shenanigans, and therefore would understand Karasuma when he would complain about his day to you. Secondly, it would probably be him that reached out to you to help you with the situation, and thus a bond would form. 

At first, he would tell himself that he would have to be more privy to your daily going-ons for security reasons. If anything, you would be the weak link in the chain, and he would have to make sure that you don’t spill the tea or become a chess piece of third parties. Then, he would convince himself that he would have to spend so much time for you to ensure that you don’t have a mental breakdown. The whole situation would be never stressful in any case, and the last thing that would be needed would be for a normal staff member to become out of commision. 

These would all be excuses and justifications that he would formulate to distract himself from his own feelings for you, and why he is spending so much time with you. This problem would just be exacerbated by the fact that the octopus would ship the two of you - hard. It might even be that, that would force him to acknowledge his own feelings to you. 

With the pressure of the world ending, the secrecy and his own disposition, the agent would find himself spending an unnatural amount of time with you. Since he’d be one of the very few that would be in the know about the whole situation, you would find yourself embracing it - to a certain extent. Beyond a certain point, he would start spending too much time with you, maybe even going so far as to make you move in with him. All your concerns and protests would be waved away due to “security concerns” and the like. 

Due to that exact reasoning, he would do background checks on your family and friends, and start dictating who you can see and not. When the attacks on the school would start, this point would become all the more relevant. All that would make his protectiveness over you increase. The worst part of it would be that you wouldn’t be able to do a lot against him, since he would have the power and the skills to control your life and make all his arguments seem plausible to third parties.