#and I am prepared to wreak havoc

[slimylittlemaggot]

Be gay, do crime. The crime I mean is arson. I am going to commit arson.

[lexalovesbooks]

checking in how's it going. u okay?

I think this might actually be my favorite fantasy series I’ve ever read

[baeshijima]

— spoils of war

as heir to the throne, you were more than prepared to face the consequences of losing a war. your duty will forever remain for as long as you breathe, and if that meant bearing the weight of countless sacrificed souls and carrying it with you for the rest of your life, or even being forced to watch your land burn before your eyes was the price you had to pay, then so be it.

the last consequence you could have ever expected and were the least prepared for, however, was an offer of marriage from the ruler of the victorious nation.

CONTAINS : gn!reader, 3.5k wc, fluff, slightly suggestive ending, royalty!au, marriage of convenience (kind of), vague mentions of war & blood, mentioned assassination attempt, mentions of having children (very vague and in the "heir to the throne" kind of way), use of "mydeimos" and "mydei", reader is having an existential crisis; mydei is, um, mydei-ing, written pre-3.0

A/N : is this ooc? um... we will find out haha !! (the moment i saw this man i was wondering how i could royal au-ifiy him (outside of him already being a crown prince, that is). i thought of him being a mercenary or personal guard, but @sfznyxio ty for putting the words 'king' and 'mydei' in the same sentence when u showed his drip in the server bc this idea was born and now i am terminally unwell for him 🙏 but also how did this turn into an actual fic when it was literally a 2 para brainrot in discord... where did this plot come from...)

King Mydeimos, present ruler of Kremnos Kingdom, is infamous across the lands. He is a rumoured tyrant thought to have killed his bloodline in order to obtain this position, whose name alone strikes fear into many, and the very same being who just won the war against your own kingdom.

When marching through the capital to reach the steps of the palace after seizing victory and bathed in the lights of glory, his troops following close behind, you thought he would demand for the materialistic spoils such as the kingdom’s trove, maybe choose to seize control over the defeated land and its troops, or perhaps even wreak further havoc within the castle walls. Given the name he has built for himself, it certainly wouldn't surprise you if he decided to forgo all formality and instead brandish his sword like a blood-bathed barbarian.

And so when he appears in the palace entrance, the setting sun giving his rugged appearance a far more... put together look than expected (you refuse to admit the enemy's ruler to be... handsome, of all things), a recitation of prayers hammered into your head throughout the years of etiquette training spring to mind. If you're destined to fall here, you at least wish to perish with thankful thoughts!

...At least, that was the original plan.

So why is it now you're hearing him ask your father and mother, the king and queen of this now defeated kingdom, for your hand in marriage? Where did this sudden formality come from? No, why is he suddenly bowing to his defeated enemies? And— lord almighty above, did he really have to do this here and now? In front of your nation's high council and his own men, no less!

It is safe to assume every jaw except for Mydeimos' dropped into the nether realm, all eyes gawking at his tall, unperturbed figure bowing in respect towards your parents in the centre.

Having probably sensed the rather awkward air bubbling amidst the dumbfounded troops, your parents turn to you in wait for your decision. Despite the apparent pleas in their eyes for you to not agree to such a ludicrous turn of events, what choice do you really have other than to accept? Who knows what this so-called tyrant could do should you refuse this offer when he is being so lenient!

An audible gulp escapes the base of your throat the moment his scalding gaze locks onto you after your hesitant words of approval, searing a trail of where his eyes trails onto your skin.

Seriously, you haven't been on the receiving end of many — if any — wars, but you're almost positive they don't end this... pleasantly, for a lack of better words.

(Who would've thought you would be a spoils of war, as opposed to the national treasure trove...)

Set to depart when the sun rises, there is little time to gather your bearings and your belongings. Servants are bustling while your parents crowd around you, asking if you're really going to go through with this and, “You can say no! If they don't take your rejection well, we can smite them with our army!”

To that, all you have to say is, “...What army? They're all dead.”

They didn't take that very well, if their concerning increase in flowing tears have anything to say about it.

The send-off is nothing too grandiose, save for the entire palace standing at the gates shouting farewells through tear-streaked wails and blowing handkerchiefs. Your parents are at the forefront of it all. Your mother holds your hands as she tells you to return promptly if it gets too much regardless of the consequences (you appreciate the sentiment, but you don't want to burden your family nor your nation because of a dislike), while your father stands before Mydeimos with an order for him to treat you well and respectfully and, “If you damage even a mere hair on my beloved child's head, I will have your head on display!”

...Perhaps that would have been more threatening if not for the slight tremble of his legs and waver in his voice but, again, you appreciate the sentiment. Mydeimos, if anything, takes it in stride with a calm nod of his head and a promise to take care of you. Really, does anything other than the battlefield phase him...?

Soon you're in the carriage and settled opposite your soon-to-be husband, on your way to your new life with a heavy heart. Is this what all your training to take over the throne has surmounted to? Have all your efforts and dedication spent on being the perfect heir for your kingdom simply come down to being wed to an enemy nation's ruler?

Well, perhaps “enemy” is not the right term anymore; not when both your kingdom's are now in a mutually beneficial alliance, along with the promise for one of your heirs becoming next in line for your kingdom's throne.

Ha! What makes him so sure you will have more than one between you?

...Was what you had asked back when he first made the declaration to your parents, only for him to respond in kind with, “If you'd rather adopt, then we can do so.”

(Bastard. Can't he break composure at least a little?)

As the ride drags on, silence permeates. Whether it is the lingering nerves you hid from your parents or this suffocating intimidation confined within the small carriage space, one question still remains at the forefront of your mind: why did he decide to marry you? Truly, it miffs you. He could have just left you to suffer in the downfall of your nation if he wished to do so, or even let you stay as the heir to the now-allianced kingdom.

Upon questioning his motives for your hand in marriage, his response was merely a slow blink before uttering, "The council wouldn't stop pestering me about getting married."

Oh. Was it really that simple of a reason?

Lips pursed, you press a little more. “Then why did you add benefits, such as an alliance with my kingdom? Even if you, King Mydeimos, were to just—”

��Mydei.”

“—just cut down…” trailing off at the sudden interruption, you blink at his cross-armed figure seated across from you. “Oh, um, what?”

“Mydei,” he repeats once more, attention solely focused on you. “No need to bother with formalities. Just refer to me as such.”

“Oh, well, alright... Mydei?” At your uncertain tone, he nods, as though urging for you to carry on. “Right, well, as I was saying... What was I saying...?”

Without missing a beat, he responds, “You were asking why I offered your kingdom a mutually beneficial alliance when I have the means to cut down the nation with brute force and take what I want through violence.”

“Oh, right…” Huh. Did you say all of that? Well, you certainly were thinking of it, but were you that harsh in your wording? Considering how he recited it all without hesitation, you probably did say all of that, with him being a pretty good listener and you perhaps needing to think over your words before you speak them. “So what is your answer to my curiosity?”

“I simply thought you would be happier if I spared your land and made an offer both of us would benefit from.”

“...I see. Well, thank you for your consideration.”

“Think nothing of it.”

And so the ride continues in silence once more, though this time you find yourself more at ease compared to the prior situation. You, however, still have your doubts about the benefits he gave with the alliance proposal, amongst the absurdity of this entire situation.

...Is the man sitting before you really the feared tyrannical ruler people made him out to be? Surely he is being far too merciful for someone of such reputation. There has been no threats, no coercion (well, if you don’t count the whole marriage fiasco as such, but you did willingly agree to it…), no usage of violence — did people perhaps badmouth the wrong monarch?

Then again, the majority of his prowess and achievements stem from the battlefield. Was all this information just mere hearsay from those jealous of his noteworthy feats, or do their words truly hold some merit in their claim? And really, what do you know about Mydei? From his thoughts, to his motives, to the reasoning behind each action… you know nothing.

Well, considering how he has entertained each of your whims thus far, he has the ability to entertain one more, right?

“Mydei, if I may,” you start, looking to him for approval to continue. When he nods encouragingly, you continue. “You said you made an offer we would both benefit from. While I acknowledge the military and protection we receive from you, what benefit do you reap from us?”

Had you not been eyeing him so intently, perhaps the subtle stiffening of his muscles or twitch of his fingers would have remained unnoticed. 

“Apart from the high quality agricultural and material trade, I have obtained one more thing. Rather than a benefit, however,” he trails off, gaze shifting to the carriage floor. His voice tapers slightly, subtleties of fondness seeping into his tone. When his eyes move to meet your own once more, your mouth runs dry at the undeniable warmth which swirls within his gaze, the rapid pounding of your heart betraying your thoughts. “I consider meeting and having the privilege of marrying you to be the most priceless of rewards I could have obtained.”

(...Who knew a subtle smile could be so beautiful.)

Settling into your new role as the co-ruler of Kremnos was a far easier transition than you’d anticipated. Despite some initial apprehension at your sudden intrusion into the citizen’s lives and you being from another nation, the reactions you were greeted with upon arrival were well-within your expectations.

Apprehension? Sure. Skepticism? Great. Concern over your abilities? Fantastic! Immediate, wholehearted acceptance with preparations already made for your arrival? Um… Come again?

Yes. Compared to the civilian’s very normal, completely expected doubt and uncertainty about you being thrust into the role of their new co-ruler, the same cannot be said about the palace staff. The moment Mydei helped you out of the carriage, a line of servants were at the ready, lined up with the necessary preparations already made to look after you. Your dumbfoundedness must have been quite obvious for Mydei to take note, squeezing your hand with enough pressure and warmth to anchor you down and fill you with comfort before guiding you through the tunnel of awaiting servants ready to receive his orders.

While a little unnerving the palace staff’s ready acceptance and preparation for your arrival may have been, you cannot deny the flicker of warmth which surges when spotting something that reminds you of home.

That particular fruit you enjoy only found in your homeland? An abundance has been procured with the palace gardener equipped with all the necessities used to grow it, alongside a bed of your favourite assortment of flowers already beginning to show signs of blooming.

There was a certain dessert you enjoyed partaking in? Look no further, for the palace patissier has already mastered all the techniques needed to make it the most delicious version you have ever tasted!

Oh, you’re used to having a certain textile in each of your fabrics and certain colours are more to your preference? Don’t worry, the temporary bedroom used until your wedding is made to your liking, and once the wedding is complete your shared bedroom will have all the necessary arrangements!

Truly, the experience of having practically everything needed for your stay to be comfortable already prepared was an… interesting one, to say the least.

It doesn’t escape you, however, the manner in which everyone is rigid in demeanour and stiff with etiquette when in the presence of Mydei. Ducking their heads to avoid eye contact, tensing their bodies as though afraid one subtle movement will trigger his wrath, rushing away as quickly as possible once given their respective orders.

He doesn’t appear bothered; if anything, matters outside of you and battle don’t seem to move him at all. He merely regards everything as a duty to be carried out, an honour to uphold and see through so long as he bears the weight of his title. 

Despite his admitted nonchalance for most matters, you have seen him be expressive on several accounts.

Like that time you were both strolling through the extensive garden holding pleasant conversation about each other’s day, stopping to admire the roses and ready to sing the gardener’s praises, only to catch the smile and unfairly soft expression directed towards you. (Seriously, the difference a smile and relaxed expression can make on his features should be criminal.)

Or the days you choose to visit the training ground and catch the battle-hardened fervour of a warrior which radiate so starkly within his typically stoic demeanour, easily parrying and holding his own against even a large number of his knights rushing to best him, only to hastily avert your eyes when he takes note of your presence and amble his way towards you with a towel in hand. (Well, his torso is practically on full-display all day, but somehow seeing him entirely shirtless after a particularly gruelling training is a little… different.)

Not to mention that one night during your third month in Kremnos wherein an assassin managed to slip through surveillance and sneak into your room, only to be thwarted mere moments before the fatal strike as a sword pierced their torso, their cries of agony quickly silencing and the flecks of warmth clinging to your skin promptly discarded as the deafening hammering of your heart drowned out everything in the vicinity. You weren’t sure how long you were out of it for, but the image of Mydei’s distraught expression and uncharacteristic loss of composure is a sight you’re certain will never leave, much like the rare vulnerability found in his fragile, broken whispers of, “Not again... I thought I’d lost you again. Why must fate be so cruel? Please… Just this once, stay with me until the end.”

(You never really questioned how Mydei caught wind of the attempt or what he meant by his whispered words, too caught up in your near-death experience to properly process anything, but the immeasurable relief upon being embraced within his familiarity was undeniable as you melted into him, allowing him to stay by your side for the night and then the following nights soon after as his attentiveness only grew.)

The time from your first arrival has flown, and now, five months later, the long-awaited wedding is finally being held.

The ceremony itself was nothing too grand. Despite Mydei asking for your thoughts and preferences on how the ceremony should be held, the ideas he’d suggested aligned perfectly with your own preferences: a simple ceremony with the necessary guests in attendance for privacy, a ceremonial carriage ride through the capital to honour the matrimonial bond between you alongside quelling any uncertainties the citizens may have, and to end it all off with a banquet to diminish the doubt brewing from within the nobility of high society.

Thankfully, everything went off without a hitch. Your parents attended the ceremony and greeted you with a tearful embrace upon seeing you in your wedding attire. As it turns out, they will be staying as guests within the palace for about a week, all thanks to Mydei’s preparations. Apparently.

(Upon asking your parents who is taking care of the kingdom’s affairs in their place, you probably should have suspected it to be the trusted, overworked aide who has been by your father’s side since young. Despite his already cushy salary, he should get a raise for having to deal with all this.)

And as you stand here now, chatting idly with some of the knights in attendance who were present in the whole proposal fiasco, you find yourself believing that perhaps your new life here will not be as bad as you feared.

You have to admit, letting loose every now and then is rather rewarding. After all those mental and passive aggressive battles with some of the nobles before eventually gaining their respect and approval (you didn’t have strict heir training just to have nothing to show for it!), you can now relax and let the night pass by. With the knights talking joyfully amongst themselves, you’re sure the night will fly by.

Their topic of conversation shifts constantly, ranging from battle tactics to which is the best amongst savoury, sweet, or spicy to debates about whether that one maid and apprentice chef are secretly dating.

Eventually, the topic of conversation loops back around to your newly sealed marriage; you know, the whole premise for the current celebration. One of the knights, tickled a light pink in the face from the warmth of the venue and the drink half-emptied in hand, turns to you with a jovial grin.

“Y’know, until you came into the picture, I’ve never seen our king so happy and expressive. It’s a nice change.”

Another chimes, “Yeah! I’ve definitely seen him smile a few times when you visit the training grounds! Though he still glares daggers into my soul when we spar…”

“That’s because you suck and His Majesty gets a migraine just from the sight of your sloppy footwork.”

“Wha— hey! You’re the one with a weak swing and can’t even break the training dummy in one strike!”

“I’m telling you the material is tougher on the ones I’m given!”

A breathy laugh escapes you at their back and forth. Sometimes you forget how playful the knights can be outside of their intimidating demeanour, though you suppose their leader is similar in his own right.

Taking a light sip from your drink, the chatter of the knights slowly die down. Just as you’re about to ask if everything is alright, a warmth you have become able to identify looms over your back. It doesn’t take a genius to know why they stopped their bickering.

“What were you all discussing?” Mydei asks, moving to stand beside you with a drink of his own in hand. You weren’t expecting to see him until later, what with how swamped he appeared with greetings and talks of his own.

His knights seemed to have thought the same as you, if their apparent dumbfounded reactions were anything to go by.

“Oh, um, well…”

“We were, uh…”

“We were just chatting like good ole pals, haha…”

Stifling a laugh at their poor attempts, you decide it would be best to give them a helping hand. Mydei’s curious gaze certainly isn’t helping their case.

With an amused sigh you begin, “Nothing much. Just how much they admire and look up to you—”

“We were discussing how your dear spouse thoroughly enjoys the sight of your body at the training grounds!”

A deafening silence.

…You take back every nice thing you said about them. You hope Mydei exchanges all the training dummies except for his own for super-ultra-mega tough ones, just so they can feel the embarrassment you currently do when they are unable to break a mere training dummy.

First off, how did they even know this highly confidential information?! You most certainly were not openly ogling at your now-husband! (At least, you hope you weren’t…)

Second of all, here you were trying to help them save face from all their bickering, and what do you get in return? A loss of your own!

And third of all, that is blatant slander! In front Mydei, their king and commander, and your spouse, no less!

Ha ha. You don't know whether to laugh or cry at this turn of events.

In hopes of salvaging what remains of your thoroughly battered and bruised image, And there it appears, you quickly turn towards Mydei, a myriad of retorts ready to fire on the tip of your tongue. It fizzles out just as quickly as it appears upon what you find yourself gazing at. Though barely noticeable, the lingering remnants of his laughter which spill from that wretched curve of his lips never fails to speed up this traitorous heart of yours. And when his unabashedly amused gaze meets your own mortified one, your mind regains its former desperation.

Before you can think up a retort in a last-ditch effort to save face, he swiftly leans into your ear and whispers, “I would like to hear more about this. Perhaps you can enlighten me when we return to our quarters later.”

…Nevermind. Perhaps it is Mydei who should be getting the super-ultra-mega tough training dummy so he can taste humiliation for the first time in his life.

(However, despite the horrendously dizzying flush you are currently victim to, if it meant seeing his warm gaze and heart-melting smile more often then, perhaps, you wouldn’t mind embarrassing yourself in front of him every now and then.)

(Not too often, of course. That would be too much.)

if you enjoyed this, reblogs and/or comments are greatly appreciated <33

trivia !!

wanted to add this section in case some might be wondering why i went with the timeloop trope yet again (if u did not figure that out from the bits and pieces throughout the fic + mainly the assassination attempt scene then, um, oops. haha.) BUT !! i actually decided to do a spin of his lore for it.

so in his drip market post, it says:

Kremnos, swallowed by mist! City riven between chaos and war! The blood of patricide flows through its royal line, and its god bears the title of calamity.

The undying Mydeimos, the lion apart from the rest. O Chrysos Heir that seeks the Coreflame of Strife, you must suffer a thousand deaths, be bathed in blood on the path home, and bear the madness of fate alone, for one was must slay a god to become one. Iron-hooves pound across the wilderness for the campaign, and must eventually soak in the blood of their homeland.

and mydei is also known by the following aliases "the last prince" and "the undying". now all of this info is more than likely referring to his ability to survive torturous pain, as opposed to dying and and resurrecting a thousand times (or maybe i am right... who knows...), but my first thoughts went to how he had the ability to come back to a certain point in this past after the so-called fate drove him to madness which he alone must bear.

in this context, i wanted for him to be a king who suffered a thousand deaths, but lived through a thousand lives of the same never-ending fate, doomed to watch the fall and bear the madness and watch as you in each and every lifetime suffer at the hands of a fate he cannot save you from. and that is why he marries you because he knows you even if you do not know him and will always choose to lead the same path if it means he has you by his side once more.

...does this make sense? maybe it does, maybe it does not, but what matters is it made sense to me ;w;

oops got a little carried away there with lore and theories um !! haha !! anywho that is enough from me ,,, if u read this trivia then hi !! ty for sitting through and reading my deep dive into the crumbs of lore and how i put my own spin on it :'D

[honey-on-your-tongue]

FWB

Part two Logan Howlett x fem!reader Series masterlist

You and Logan avoid each other for as long as you can. If you know he's in the kitchen or in the simulation room, you will go around the entire mansion just so you don't run into him. If he hears or smells you're in a room he's about to go into, he won't. He'll leave and wait until you go somewhere else.

A few weeks come and go like this. You and Logan don't even look at each other and it's all fine.

Until you go on a mission. There's no avoiding each other now.

It's not even necessary for the two of you to go. Most likely, Storm could handle it on her own. But she needs backup and Scott is too out of it, so you both have to go with her.

You understand Scott. Really, you do. But you kinda wish he'd be in condition to go with Storm and Logan so you wouldn't have to.

That's the only thought that adds bitterness to your day as you get in the jet. And then you see Logan, sitting in his seat, and your mind goes blank.

You remember him, lying in his bed, hard cock in his hand, precum on the tip. You blush at the memory and glance away.

Flustered, you rush to your seat, sit and buckle up and make a point out of staring out the window. You can feel Logan's eyes on you, but you refuse to react at all. Last thing you need is him getting the wrong idea.

But what is the wrong idea? You can't deny that you felt strangely flattered, and also extremely turned on. You'd had to touch yourself that night before you even considered getting any sleep.

You try not to think about it as Storm takes the jet into the air.

The thing is, you and Logan work together and if things go too far, it'll either end real good or real bad.

Most likely, real bad.

You push the idea away and instead try to focus on the mission at hand. You're supposed to find a group of mutants gone astray, wreaking havoc around a small town. Supposedly, their headquarters is in a warehouse, the remnants of an abandoned factor in a long-since forgotten part of the woods. It's in the middle of nowhere.

Storm lands the jet far from where the warehouse is located and glances back at the two of you. “We'll camp here for tonight. We'll move in on them tomorrow morning, the earlier the better,” she says.

You each get to work, setting up your tents, readying your suits, preparing yourself mentally for the coming day.

Night falls. You're in your tent, reading by the light of a flashlight, when you hear something outside. At first, you worry that maybe the trouble-making mutants have found you, but then Logan's head pops in through the flap of your tent.

-

He'd spent hours debating on whether or not to approach you. He knew it would be easier to let the whole thing blow over, but you two wouldn't be able to work if this doesn't get resolved.

So. What better way to resolve things than by sneaking into your tent long after he knows Storm is asleep?

He didn't think it through. He realizes that when he sees the look on your face at his sudden appearance.

“You scared me,” you tell him, huffing softly.

“Sorry,” he mumbles sheepishly as he crawls into the tent, zipping the flaps closed. He sits across from you, awkward both because he's a rather large man in a tent and also because of the situation. “Didn't mean to scare ya. I just...wanted t'talk.”

“Oh,” you say quietly, a soft blush rising on your cheeks. “Yeah. I guess we...we do have to talk.”

He nods. “Okay. I'm...Look. I'm sorry. Really. About...the other night. I didn't mean—It was disrespectful of me. And I definitely didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. I really am sorry. And, for what it's worth, I think you're gorgeous, in case that wasn't, y'know, evident.”

You hold his gaze for a moment before laughing softly. “It's okay. It's...Yeah, it's alright. I guess I should've knocked too, I just didn't imagine you'd be...doing...that.” You nod softly, another blush covering your cheeks.

“So we're...good?” he asks softly.

You nod. “We're good.”

He hums, a weight lifted off his shoulders. He glances at his lap before looking up to meet your gaze. He studies your face, your soft lips, your beautiful eyes, the perfect curve of your nose...

He's gawking without realizing it. He only comes to his senses when you laugh and bashfully ask, “What?”

He shakes his head, somewhat embarrassed, and says, “Nothin'. Just...you really are gorgeous.”

You giggle, a soft smile on your lips, and before he can stop himself, he reaches for you, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

You slowly fall silent, your eyes on his.

Logan takes a soft breath. “Let me kiss you, bub. Please, you have no idea how much I need it,” he whispers, his gaze falling to your plump lips.

You open your mouth to refuse, to remind him that you two work together and to tell him that you don’t want things to get weird. Instead, you hear yourself plafully say, “Only if you promise to never tell.”

Logan smirks and before you can proces your own fucking answer, he’s tugging you a little closer. “I promise,” he whispers before his lips crash onto yours.

He kisses you hungrily and demanding, his mind whirling from the taste of you.

He knows it's a bad idea. You know it's a bad idea. But the way he kisses you, the way his hands grab onto your body and tug you closer…

How are you supposed to resist?

He shamelessly shows you he wants you in the way his hands trace your body, the way he's basically panting.

He licks your neck, kisses it softly before sucking to leave a hickey. And you let him. God, you let him. How could you not? He's everything a girl could ever want.

He maneuvers you with ease, laying you down on the thin mattress before crawling on top of you. His fingers trace the skin of your waist, your hip, while his other hand holds him above you.

“This okay?” he asks you as his hand slips inside your pants, rubbing at your cunt through your panties.

You nod, breathing hitching. “Yeah.”

“’f you wanna stop, just lemme know,” he says, his mouth focusing on your neck as his fingers work your pussy until you've soaked through your underwear.

He's grinding his hips against your thigh meanwhile, his cock aching for more.

He pulls away for a moment to pull your pants off, then your panties. His eyes fall on your cunt, all slick with arousal, and his cock twitches.

Your scent is so sweet, so strong. He runs two fingers up through your folds, gathering the wetness before bringing them to his lips. He tastes you on his digits and loses whatever was left of his rational mind.

His head is between your thighs in a second, his mouth devouring your cunt like he's never gonna eat again.

You gasp, back arching, pretty mouth open in ecstasy, and Logan just has to watch.

He groans, his large hands moving your thighs to rest on his shoulders as his tongue slips up to your clit, flicking it a couple of times before replacing it with his nose. His tongue traces your entrance, licking up all your slick arousal.

Your fingers tangle in his hair and you don't pull at first, afraid of hurting him. But the more the pressure builds in your womb, the more you lose awareness of being gentle and pull his head where you want it.

Logan groans as you tug on his hair, his fingers digging into your thighs. He traces your clit with his teeth, relishing in the tremor that washes over you.

Smirking slightly, he does it again and again and again until you're pushing him away, moaning as you come on his mouth.

He helps you down from your high before pulling away, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“You good, bub?” he questions, hand gently caressing your thigh.

You nod, breathing heavy, body boneless from your orgasm. “’m fine.”

Logan adjusts his hard cock in his pants, his breath hitching at the little bit of friction. He's never wanted it this bad…

He stares at you, all spread out, half-naked, blissed out, and he loses it.

“Lemme fuck ya, bub,” he begs, eyes wild, pupils dilated. “Need to put my cock in that pretty cunt ‘f yours.”

You hold his gaze, cheeks flushed a pretty pink. “Do you have a condom?”

He grins. “You bought some f’r me, remember?”

You giggle softly. “I—Yeah, I did, huh?”

He licks his lower lip. “Does that mean I can fuck ya?”

You nod. “Yes.”

He almost growls in relief, his hands quickly undoing his pants. He tosses them aside, then grabs a condom from the pocket of his jacket. He takes the jacket off as well, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths.

He rolls the condom onto himself, his cock hard, the tip an angry red as precum drips from it.

He kneels in front of you, grabbing your legs and tugging you closer to him, making you gasp. His eyes darken at the sound and he jerks himself once, twice, before aligning his cock with your sopping entrance.

“You tell me if you want me to stop,” he says firmly.

“Okay,” you reply, breathless.

He holds your gaze for a moment before he thrusts into you, filling your sweet pussy smoothly.

You cry out, gasping, eyes fluttering shut.

He grunts as you clench around him tightly, his eyes rolling back. “Fuuuuuck, bub. Such a good pussy.”

He glances down as he starts thrusting, watching your cunt stretch to fit him. He grabs one of your legs and moves it onto his shoulder, allowing him to go deeper.

You squeal, eyes wide. “Fuck! Fuck!”

He fucks you hard and deep, the sound of skin on skin loud. He's grunting and groaning like an animal, his dog tags clinking with each thrust.

“Look at ya, bub. So pretty. Such a good girl for me,” he says, voice low and rough. “Look at that cunt. She's so greedy, look how she clenches around me.”

You whine, tears of ecstasy in the corners of your eyes. “L-Logan! Logan!” you moan, thighs quaking.

He chuckles. “Such a pretty slut f’r me. You enjoying yourself, bub?”

You whine, eyes rolling into the back of your head. “Logan!” you squeal.

His hand slips between you, thumb finding your clit and rubbing it in messy circles. He laughs lowly when your pussy tightens around him in response.

“Yeah, you're enjoying yourself.” He smirks, proud of himself, and he fucks you harder.

You begin to mumble, blubbering incoherently, unable to form words. You're just a gasping, sobbing, moaning mess and he's loving it.

“Gonna come already?” he mocks. “I just started with ya. Has no one ever fucked you this good?”

You squeal, gasping. All he can make out is a chorus of please please please please please that you repeat over and over again.

Eventually, he caves. “Yeah, alright. Go on, bub, you can come.”

His words are the final straw. Your orgasm hits you with so much force that you're left seeing starts for a minute or two. Your ears are ringing and your body is weak.

Logan wasn't prepared for how gorgeous you looked as you came. The sight of you along with the way you tightened around him sent him over the edge beforehand, making him gasp and grunt as he spills into the condom.

“Fuck,” he gasps, body shaking as he recovers from the climax. He glances down at you, watching you regain your breath.

Slowly, he lowers your leg from his shoulder before pulling out of you gently.

“You alright there?” he asks you, his knuckles rubbing your cheek tenderly.

You manage a weak nod and he smiles. “Can you talk, bub?”

You open your mouth to try and decide you cannot. You shake your head and he chuckles.

“Fucked dumb. ‘m gonna have a lotta fun with ya, bub. A lotta fun.”

---

Taglist

@nerrivm @rosiahills22 @d3vils-adv0c8 @thychuvaluswife @18lkpeters @daddy333 @e-nonsense @ch3rryblossms @ayamenimthiriel @thesecretlifeofmo @simming4sims @raideaters-blog @1cam8 @angelicbbsblog @giuliahowlett @lemonsquaredd @meadow-field @secretpandaconnoisseur @givenoutlaw @wunder-blunder @aredheadednerd @fictionalmen-dilflover @insanesociopath @m1cky-y-y @fictional-hooman

---

Blog masterlist

[violetflowerswrites]

Taking it Slow

Summary: An unexpected explosion severely injures you, and Jim Street, your LAPD SWAT roommate, comes to your rescue. The life and death situation makes you reevaluate the status of your “just casually dating” relationship.

Pairing: Jim Street x (Female) Reader

Disclaimer: Cannon violence and danger. Mentions of fire, explosions, and bombs. Location is an elementary school, mentions of danger to minors, but reader is the only one injured. Gruesome descriptions of bodily injury and blood. Some angst and mentions of divorce. BUT ALSO consensual kissing and touching. The smut in this is absolutely filthy as usual. Oral sex (female receiving). Consensual P in V sex. Street has a big cock. 18+ for explicit smut, violence, and language

Word Count: 4.5k

A/N: I finally got around to watching more SWAT after taking a break from crime dramas and I gotta say, Season 4 has been SO good. The commentary on our Covid and post-Covid society especially with race and Black Lives Matter is so thoughtfully done. I was re-inspired to make a part 2 of my Jim Street fic from back in July 2022! This fic can be standalone but it is technically a continuation from “Too Complicated.” Enjoy!

Part One Here - “Too Complicated”

Part Three Here - “I’ll Be Here”

Masterlist Here

…

“All Units please respond, bomb at Harriet Tubman Elementary, repeat bomb and fire at Tubman Elementary.”

The police scanner radio squawks to life in the leather-scented interior of Sergeant Daniel “Hondo” Harrelson’s sliver Dodge Charger.

Hondo locks eyes with Jim Street, LAPD SWAT. His expression falls immediately, drawn and serious.

A school bombing?

Not on their watch.

”20 David, Sergeant Harrelson responding. Let’s roll!”

…

Your pink highlighter squeaks across the tiny Times New Roman text of each signature line on the paperwork you’re preparing.

A tightness in your neck forces you to pause and lean your head to the side, trying to release the tension in your body.

It’s another tough case. The student was expelled out of a previous school due to repeated fighting. His current teacher is young and inexperienced, and the counselor is definitely overwhelmed. You were called in to take over his case and then recommend him to a therapist, a behaviorist, a specialist, someone before he was expelled again.

Who knew that an 8 year old could wreak so much havoc at a school?

You glance out the window of the 2nd floor classroom, watching the poor kid get into a screaming match with a yard duty. The bright red digital display of the classroom clock shows 9:00 am in blinking lights that seem to say…

tick

tock

It’s

only

9

freakin

AM

on a Monday.

But, no one could have predicted what would happen in the next ten seconds.

One

A thunderous boom echoes across the playground, so loud that all the kids freeze, balls dropped and forgotten.

Two

Thousands of shards of shattered glass fly through the air as the school building collapses into itself from the roof downwards.

Three

The ear-splitting screech of the fire alarm forces everyone to cover their ears, eyes squeezed shut.

Four

Smoke rises in thick gray plumes into the sky, followed by bright orange flames.

Five

The stampede of three hundred little feet shakes the earth as panicked children run towards the grass field, away from their burning school.

Six

Bewildered shouts across the blacktop try to account for all the children, staff members still running out of the smoke.

Seven

Wide-eyed stares fill with tears as it dawns on the kids what had happened.

Eight

A dozen simultaneous calls to 911, all trying to be heard over the crying, screams, and shouts.

Nine

A terrifying pop pop pop makes everyone flinch and duck for cover, as the heat from the fire breaks even more windows. But it could have been gunshots. Everyone doesn’t dare to move.

Ten

After those ten, chaotic seconds, you finally open your dust-filled eyes, ears ringing, sounds muffled as if you were underwater, and your dazed mind takes several agonizing seconds to comprehend the scene around you.

Fallen desks and books scattered haphazardly across the classroom.

Shattered glass reflecting the flickering flames of a fire somewhere above you.

Looking up, a gaping hole in the ceiling leading to a smoke-stained blue sky.

The incessant blaring of the fire alarm doesn’t help your clearly concussed head make sense of it all.

You deduce that there had been some kind of accident. An explosion maybe.

And that caused an industrial AC unit to collapse through the ceiling, knock you out of your chair, and pin one of your legs from the waist down.

And now, an alarming pool of blood was starting to seep from under the crumpled gray metal.

Even more alarming, you couldn’t feel a thing underneath the crushing weight.

“Oh. I’m dying.” You huff out loud, your logical deduction giving way into dark humor.

You twist your neck around, the soreness long forgotten, and try to find something, anything, to help yourself survive.

You grab your cardigan, covered in drywall dust, and slip it under your upper thigh, tying the sleeves together as tight as it could possibly go. The makeshift tourniquet immediately soaks up your blood, turning the cream-colored yarn into a horrific deep red.

Bile rises in your throat as panic sets in, but you push it down, desperate to get out of this.

You look down, realizing that your phone fell out of the pocket of your jacket when you grabbed it. The screen is cracked, but usable.

Without hesitating, you press a number on your phone and it starts to ring. There’s only one person in the world you want to talk to before you lose consciousness. Maybe forever.

…

“Street! What do you think you’re doing?”

“What? You’ve never played in one of these as a kid?”

You’re out on another casual date with Jim Street, LAPD SWAT. Also known as your impulsive, annoying, immature, and absolutely adorable roommate.

That you had accidentally-on-purpose kissed one drunken night. Which led to much more…for several hours.

And now, the two of you went out most every weekend, casually dating, but not trying to label it…yet.

“Come on, Y/N! It’ll be fun!”

Street ducks into an arcade, which immediately deafens you with a cacophony of beeps and honks, electronic character voices, and techno dance music. It’s an overstimulating nightmare so you focus on the leather-clad back of Street, who is leading you deeper into the room.

A couple of surly teens throw judgemental side eyes at the two of you, grown-ass adults screaming and shouting at basketball, skew-ball, and claw machines.

You clutch a small blue plushie, from Lilo and Stitch, courtesy of Street’s claw machine skills, as he whoops upon seeing another game, his childhood favorite.

“Yes! We have to play this next!” Street grins at you from ear to ear.

You hesitate for a split second, but shake your head, chuckling, “Okay NASCAR, wait for me!”

You tease him, knowing that Street’s name is all too fitting, his long history of all things on wheels that can go faster than 100 miles per hour is well known.

You sit behind the plastic wheel of the racing game as Street quickly punches in a couple quarters.

“Think you can keep up?” Street teases you immediately.

“Mhm.” You reply, your face dead serious, all traces of amusement long gone.

Street takes in your expression and furrows his brow.

“Oh shit!” He exclaims as you leave him in the dust, your digital car screeching as the wheels fight against the tight turns.

You’re silent, the only sounds are the quiet clicking of your foot pressing on the fake gas pedals of the game.

Your car peels around the track, going into the final lap, with a 3 second lead on Street.

“Oh my god, are you seriously drifting?” Street shouts in frustration, watching your vehicle slide sideways against the last tight turn and across the finish line with a flourish.

He smacks the wheel and laughs.

“That was crazy, Y/N. I didn’t expect you to be so good! I thought you said you didn���t really go to arcades growing up.”

“Can we go home?” You grab your jacket from the armrest of the racing game chair, turning away from Street.

“Uhh…yeah sure.” Street says slowly, confused.

You walk quickly out of the arcade, a mix of frustration, shame, and sadness filling you.

Hands clench into fists at your sides as you suck in a shaky breath, trying to steady your whirlwind of emotion.

Street half-jogs to catch up with you, calling your name. He reaches out a hand to grab your wrist, but the instant he makes contact you snatch your arm back abruptly.

“Don’t touch me!” You snap, more harshly than you intended.

Street’s face flashes confusion, hurt, and a bit of anger all at once. You see him stifle the urge to snap back at you, and instead, he shoves his hands into his pockets, his shoulders slumped down and he quietly pleads with you instead.

“Talk to me, Y/N. Don’t keep it in again.”

You know you’re acting like an asshole and ruining the date. Street surprised you with being the mature one in this situation while you’re the one taking out your emotions on him.

So you slowly reach out to take one of his hands in both of yours. It’s warm, heavy, and sure in your grasp, a reassuring anchor. You clutch his hand close to your chest and duck your head down, unable to make eye contact.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Just tell me what’s going on. Please?”

“It’s just—I’m not used to opening up like this.”

“I know. We’re learning how to, with each other.” Street slips his free hand under your chin, lifting your head up to kiss you affectionately on the cheek.

“Take your time.”

You sigh into his touch, releasing some of the tightness in your chest.

“Can we get ice cream first?”

…

Over a double scoop of cookies and cream, you confide in Street more of your life story.

How there was a period of time in middle school where you used to spend hours at the arcade after school to avoid going home.

Your parents were fighting constantly and you just couldn’t take all the screaming. Your older sister was in high school and worked part time, so she would drop you off with a handful of quarters and get you after.

For some reason, that racing game became your focus, your obsession. You channeled all your frustration, all your hurt, all your pain into that game.

It was your escape.

“It feels silly to freak out now. It’s been well over a decade since I’ve played that game.” You mumble into your ice cream.

“It’s not silly,” Street reassures you, “It’s a painful part of your life.”

You scrunch up your nose and murmur in agreement, not really wanting to think about it anymore. You take another lick of your ice cream, accidentally getting some on your cheek.

Street reaches out with a finger to wipe the smudge of the sticky treat off your face and instead of cleaning his hands on a napkin, he decides to lick it off instead.

You raise your eyebrows in surprise, the gesture unexpectedly sexy, but Street just chuckles.

“What? You taste good.”

…

You clutch Street by the collar of his leather jacket, slamming his broad back against the apartment door.

He drops the keys with a clatter, slides a free hand up to lock the door before gripping the back of your neck roughly, returning your desperate kiss.

“Y/N. Are you sure?” He releases your lips with a pant, pressing his forehead to yours and checking in with you.

Consent is so sexy, especially coming from him. Your previous boyfriends always took what they wanted, when they wanted, and you thought that’s how sex had to be.

It was only after being with Street that you realized how gentle, how considerate, and how trustworthy someone could be during sex.

Street treated you with respect, with reverence. He took his time to worship your body.

You were his queen, his goddess, and even if he didn’t say as much in words, he sure as hell showed it with his actions.

So yes.

You were fucking sure you wanted him.

You pulled off your clothes as you walked ahead of him towards your room, dropping fabric across the hallway on your way there.

Street followed quickly, stopping at the foot of your bed with his jeans still on. His chest visibly flushed red as he stared in wonder at your naked form. And he half-laughed, half-groaned out loud.

How did you manage to get your clothes off so quickly and look so damn delicious on the bed for him?

He grabs both of your ankles and drags you down, lifting them up above his shoulders so he can taste you.

You lean back on both elbows, your hair splayed across the sheets as you tip your head back in delight.

“Oh shit, that feels so good.” You breathe out, a moan slipping through your lips.

“Mmm, I can tell.” Street smiles into your pussy as he licks long strips up your core. He finds your clit within a few moments, and starts alternating sucking and licking the sensitive nub.

Your thighs start shaking as the stimulation shoots down your legs.

Street’s chin grows slick as your arousal throbs out of your core, but he simply holds down your thighs with his strong grip, and dives his tongue into your center even more.

It’s only when you spasm particularly hard, almost kicking him in the head that he finally releases you, chuckling as he swipes a thumb across his lips, wiping off some of your juices.

Your body is still twitching, your nerve endings shooting electricity from your core all the way down to your toes and you throw an arm back across your forehead, trying to recover.

“Come on, you can’t be done yet…” Street teases.

“Absolutely not.” You laugh out in a huff, “j-just…give me a minute.”

“Nah.”

Street lifts your legs again, this time crossing them behind his hips, so that he can line himself up to your entrance.

He pushes in slowly, but just the round head of his cock stretches your pussy to the point that you have to grab his arms and stop him.

“Hold on, Jim.”

Street freezes. You only call him by his first name when you’re being serious or something’s wrong.

He pulls out immediately and lifts you up into a sitting position. He immediately grabs your face in his hands, searching your eyes for pain.

“I’m so sorry, did I hurt you? We can stop— I didn’t mean to—“

You grip his wrists and gently remove them from your cheeks. Instead, you press a gentle kiss to his lips, your gaze at him soft and reassuring.

“I’m okay. Let’s try a different position.”

“Are you sure?”

You turn around, holding up your weight on your hands and knees, and spreading your hips back. You flip your hair over your shoulder and glance back at him with a smirk.

“You haven’t made me cum yet, have you?”

Slowly, Street’s concerned look spreads into a smile.

“No, I haven’t.”

“So fuck me.”

Street holds his cock steady while you carefully push back against him, controlling the pace.

When you’ve fully taken him in, now adjusted to his size, Street still hesitates.

“It’s okay. I’m ready now.” You brace yourself.

“Be as rough as you want.”

A sound akin to a growl escapes from the man who is balls deep in your pussy.

He places a bruising grip on your right shoulder and left hip, and slams you back, knocking the wind out of your lungs.

He does that again and again - pulling out almost all the way before slamming your body back against him almost violently.

“Oh fuck!” You yelp each time, your pussy throbbing around him.

Street then pushes your neck down, and you fist the sheets in your hands as you press into the bed, your ass in the air as he thrusts into you relentlessly.

You can hear your bottom smacking against his strong abs, as he swings his hips into you over and over.

And that cock, his huge, delicious cock, spears your pussy in just the right place every time.

“Oh my god, Street. That feels so good!” Your muffled voice can barely be heard over his grunting. God, you love it when men are loud during sex.

Before you know it, you’re close. Street must be too because he snakes a firm arm around your tummy and lifts you up, holding you tightly to his chest. Your core is still clenched in a vice grip around his member as he thrusts upward into your pussy.

“Street! Oh wow! You’re so big!” You praise him, feeling his cock hitting your cervix from his position.

“Yeah? You like it when my cock hits your pussy. Just. like. that?” Street punctuates his question with a hard bounce into you.

“Mmph!” You moan, and you grab his arm, still trapping you against his sweat-slicked body.

“Street,” you pant.

“Yeah?”

“Go faster.”

With a guttural groan, Street grabs the flesh around your hips and drills up into you. His cock drives in and out at a speed that could only be described as mechanical, a piston that pumps as deep as it could possibly go before pulling out and slamming back in as far as it can go.

You fall onto the bed again, unable to do anything but hold on far dear life as Street rails you like a rag doll.

Within seconds, you feel that familiar tingle spread from your core to your entire body, washing over you in waves of pleasure.

“Oh god— I’m cumming!” You scream, gasping for air.

You are answered with a growl as Street collapses on top of you, cumming inside your throbbing core, your pussy milking every last drop from his twitching cock.

Fuck, that was incredible.

After a few moments, you crawl out from under him, and stand up to head to the shower. He leans up on an elbow, watching you with a blissed-out smile. You tie your hair up into a messy bun, the simple action somehow sensual as hell as he sees your bare shoulder blades squeeze together as you reach up to your head.

You turn, catching him admiring you.

“What?” You ask, totally unaware.

“You’re beautiful.”

Your already hot skin somehow flushes even hotter at his words. You have a love-hate relationship with Street’s compliments.

So you just lean down and peck his cheek with kiss-puffed lips.

“Go to bed. We both have work tomorrow.” You whisper before pushing him back onto the mattress, shaking your head in laughter.

…

Your current reality is a universe away from yesterday’s date night with Jim Street.

You stare at his name on the phone, willing him to pick up.

“Y/N?”

Before you can explain to him, you hear the police radio in his car announce your school site and the bombing.

“Jim. I’m there.”

Street is speechless, the dots connecting with several torturous seconds as his worst fears become true.

One

You had told him that morning that you weren’t going into the office, but visiting a school today.

Two

You never call him, preferring to text. If it’s a call, something must be urgent.

Three

You almost never call him by his first name.

Something was wrong. Very wrong.

Hondo responds to the radio but Street barely hears it as he shouts into the phone.

“What happened? Are you okay?”

“There’s been an explosion. A bomb? An AC unit fell through the roof. I’m trapped on the second floor.”

“Are you hurt?” Street repeats his question, desperation seeping into his tone.

Somehow you hesitate to tell him. So instead, you switch to video call and show him your leg.

Street’s eyes widen in horror as he sees the bloodied, crushed flesh.

Hondo glances at Street’s phone, his siren already screaming down the streets of LA.

“We’re coming.”

…

“You can’t keep me here, Hondo! Y/N is hurt, I have to get to her!”

“Street, you’re compromised. You’re gonna take risks and I can’t have you do that, not when there are kids here who need your head straight.”

Another sudden crash makes both men instinctually duck for cover. They had just arrived into a horror scene, with a blazing fire, fire trucks dousing the building with water, police holding back hysterical parents, ambulances treating kids and staff for smoke inhalation, and a soot-smeared principal talking to the fire marshal.

Hondo makes a beeline for her, Street on his heels.

“Sergeant Harrelson, LAPD SWAT. Is everyone accounted for?”

“Yes, all the kids and staff, but we’re missing one visitor, a social worker.”

Street chokes your name out, to which the principal nods, confirming that it’s you.

Meanwhile you breathe out a sigh of relief.

“Thank god everyone is safe.” You remark weakly, still on the phone, hearing their entire conversation.

Street is astonished you can think about others but his train of thought is interrupted when Chris in his comms crackles to life.

“There! I got eyes on the bomber! He’s on the roof, east side!”

“We have to go!” Street yells desperately.

“Okay.” Hondo huffs out, making a split second decision.

“Tan, go with Street and get Y/N out. Weapons hot, masks on, the bomber might run into the building. Deacon, you’re with me, let’s trap this rat.”

Street wastes no time running inside the smoke-filled building, his flashlight barely penetrating the ash and dust as he finds the stairs and runs up, Tan covering his back, sweeping his gun back and forth just in case the bomber decides to come their way.

“I’m coming, Y/N. Ten seconds out.” Street speaks into his comms, and his phone, for your benefit too.

But he doesn’t hear a reply.

“Shit!” Street curses. “She was losing a lot of blood, she’s not responding!”

Tan makes a game plan immediately as they keep running.

“I got the AC unit, you start CPR!” Tan shouts.

They skid to a stop at the destroyed classroom, and Street’s heart almost stops at the scene.

Your limp body, lying in a pool of dark blood, trapped under a giant hunk of metal, your phone still clutched in one hand.

Street kneels next to you, his own heartbeat reverberating loudly in his ears.

Thu-thump

He presses his fingers to your neck, feeling for a pulse while leaning down, trying to feel your breath on his face.

Thu-thump

Nothing. He immediately rips his smoke mask off his face and breathes into your mouth.

Once. Twice.

Thu-thump

He braces his hands against your chest and pushes down forcefully, starting CPR compressions.

Thu-thump

With a grating screech of metal, Tan manages to tip the AC unit off of you, revealing your upper thigh soaked in blood and your leg clearly broken in at least two parts.

Thu-thump

Street barely glances down to look, focusing on bringing you back to life. He feels for a pulse again, finally feeling a weak heartbeat, but a heartbeat nonetheless.

“She’s stable! Let’s get out of here!” Street shouts, throwing his smoke mask back on, and another for you.

Tan has already tied your leg down into two splints, one for your thigh, and another for your calf and ankle.

“Ready!” Tan replies in a voice muffled by his smoke mask, wiping his blood soaked hands on his tactical pants and gripping his gun again.

Street lifts you up, carefully draping your injured leg over his forearm, and cradling your concussed head gently against his shoulder.

He flies down the steps, Tan covering his back.

“This is 25-David, Y/N is secured, coming out of the school now.” Tan communicates to the team.

The moment they step out onto the front lawn of the school, their comms crackle again.

“Don’t do it man, don’t!” Hondo yells out. He must have found the bomber.

“Second bomb!” Chris warns, just as another explosion on the far side of the school collapses the roof completely, burying the spot where you were just trapped, and taking the bomber along with it.

“Hondo! Deacon! Chris!” Tan shouts into comms. The two of them shield you from the debris, holding their breath as they wait for a reply.

After a few moments, they hear Hondo coughing into the radio.

“20-David. We’re okay, we’re coming down.”

Street and Tan breathe a sigh of relief, as the EMTs run up to the three of you, carefully putting you on a stretcher.

Streets hurries alongside them, and jumps up into the back of the ambulance, glancing back at Tan.

“Go!” Tan shouts at him. “I got it covered.”

The last thing Street sees as the doors close is Tan standing with his back illuminated by a school on fire, his hands hanging at his sides, bright red with your blood.

…

Bzzt Bzzt Bzzt !

Vision blurry, it takes a few seconds for your eyes to focus and notice the late afternoon sun streaming through plastic blinds in a white-washed room.

A hospital room. That’s right, you were injured in an explosion at the elementary school, and your leg…

You looked down to see a full cast, from thigh to ankle, keeping your leg locked straight. A thin, polyester blanket covers the rest of your body.

Bzzt Bzzt Bzzt !

The insistent vibrating of a phone turns your attention to where a sleeping Jim Street, still in full SWAT gear, rests his head on his folded arms in the empty space on your bedside. One of his hands holds yours gently, even as he dozes.

You slip your hand out from his warm grip and brush his hair back, still flecked with a bit of ash and dust from the rescue mission.

Your gaze softens as you look at his peaceful face. You must have worried him so much with the accident.

Bzzt Bzzt Bzzt !

You see his phone lying on the table and you can just make out what it says.

5 missed calls from Hondo. 2 texts from Chris and Tan saying he missed the debriefing.

And currently, Commander Hicks is ringing, ready to ream his ass for being irresponsible, you’re sure of it.

“Street.” Your voice cracks. Clearing your throat, you try again, louder this time.

“Street!” You shake his shoulder insistently.

He shoots up, awake in an instant. “Y/N! You’re up!”

His eyes dart over your face, checking for any signs of pain.

“You’re in trouble.”

Street takes one look at his phone and mutters “Shit.” Without thinking, he presses a kiss to your clammy forehead and ducks out the door, phone pressed to his ear.

You bring a tentative hand up to your forehead, a lot dazed and a little shocked. The two of you haven’t really discussed the nature of your relationship after that weekend of crazy sex, trying to take it slow.

But it’s not every day that you get gruesomely injured and your hot as fuck roommate rescues you from near death.

As you hear Street’s muffled apologies outside of your hospital room, fuzzy memories start coming back to you.

White letters of a SWAT vest hovering over you as firm hands push down on your weakening heart.

Strong arms holding you up as you feel yourself being carried down a flight of stairs at a ridiculous speed.

The smell of smoke, and the unmistakable smell of Jim Street as he cradles your head into his chest, keeping you safe.

A warm hand never letting go of yours as sirens squeal in the ambulance, your consciousness fading in and out.

A reassuring voice, his voice, telling you that you’re alright, that you're safe.

“I got you, Y/N. I’m right here.”

Fuck taking it slow.

You’re not a girl who normally falls in love with a man in an uniform but damn. You sure as hell get it now.

The door opens with a quiet click and Jim Street steps back inside.

“Hey—“

“I love you.” It comes out a little louder than a whisper. ”I love you, Jim.”

Street's words die in his throat as his eyes widen. He crosses over to you in two strides and simply lifts up your chin so that he can press a kiss to your lips.

A desperate, urgent, love-filled kiss that says just how scared, just how terrified he was to lose you.

And just how much he loves you too.

….

[cuntdestroyer3000]

Godless

moodboard not meant to be a physical description of reader, just her vibes/clothes

western au! dark!outlaw!Joel Miller x f!prostitute!reader playlist part two here

My contribution to dead dove December hehehe. I love dead doves so I'm very happy to participate! @romana-after-dark

Summary: You work at a brothel that operates above a saloon in your town. Joel is the leader of a group of outlaws that come periodically to collect payment and wreak havoc. One visit, you catch Joel’s eye and he decides he has to have you.

word count: ~5.6k

DARK, dead dove: minors dni!! rough smut, prostitution, reader gets called a whore, sexual slavery, being bought/sold, angst, being owned and considered property, descriptions of men being violent with each other, Joel is possessive and very dominant, reader is very submissive, stockholm syndrome. dubcon, reader obeys but she doesn't have a choice. It's only gonna get darker from here mamas. Unprotected sex, STDs don’t exist in this universe, yeehaw. No use of y/n

A/N: Prepare for light old timey language. Yeehaw shit, in my heart I am a wild west man. Also I have no fucking idea what kind of money they used in the wild west so I just wrote gold coins lmao. Reader doesn't necessarily have a specific accent but she talks like an old timey western person, reader is just a girl in the world, god bless her. set in old west California LAWLESS LAND CALI WAS CRAZY BACK THEN BRUH

-

You tried to even your breathing as you hurriedly did your makeup, slapping your powder onto your face frantically. The other girls scurried around you, the collective energy was tense and you all shared a feeling of anxiety that was rising as the minutes ticked on.

The bar always went into a frenzy whenever Joel Miller and his men rode through town. You hadn’t been working here for that long but you’d already been here long enough for their visits. His men were animals, every girl dreaded it when they came to the brothel.

Joel and his men are shameless, getting drunk in the saloon and picking fights, riding through town and plundering all the folks living there, demanding "payments" in the form of money, food, jewelry, anything they could find that was worth taking. Payments that the people of your town made so that he would let them keep living there. He made it clear that we could wipe out the whole town if he wanted to, leaving you a people without anything. And that's if he left you all alive.

-

You hadn’t been living in the town that long. After your father died, you set off west with a man who you thought had loved you. Things had fallen out with him when you finally reached California, and he had left you all alone in this scary new world.

Luckily the people of the town had taken you in, but your shelter and safety came at a price. When you arrived, you had nowhere to live, no money, nothing.

The town brothel seemed like the only solution. You had a place to live, a job, a community. You made peace with having to let men defile you. Most of them were nice enough and your pimp took good care of all of you.

This world was cruel, you did what you needed to do to get by.

-

You adjusted your breasts where they sat in your low cut dress, pushed up by your corset. You fixed your hair and adjusted the garter on your stockings.

“Well at least we look nice.” A voice snapped you out of your deep thoughts.

You turned and tried to muster a smile for your friend, Anna-Leigh, who was pinning up her blonde curls.

She clocked your fear and reached out her hand to take yours. You couldn’t look at her because if you did you’d cry, and you couldn’t afford to smudge the black pigment you’d put on your eyelashes.

“I know you don’t want to, honey.” She said softly, “But we’ve gone through this before.” Her southern accent never failed to soothe you.

You nodded,

“Yeah.” You sniffled.

“They’re gonna do what they always do, we just gotta deal with it and then they leave.” She said firmly.

“And if they really give us trouble, Mr. Polk will put a stop to it right quick.” 

You nodded a little more confidently, remembering that your pimp, Mr. Polk kept a gun on his hip every hour of the day.

No longer able to delay the inevitable, you took a deep breath, and followed your friend and the other girls out of the vanity area and down to the saloon.

-

Walking down the stairs, you analyze the chaotic scene. You’ve managed to understand how to navigate it so as to not cause any trouble. Keep your head down, be a good girl, let them do what they want and then they leave. Your pimp paid you all extra whenever Joel's men came through. Sometimes he’d give you all new dresses, it does make you feel better but it does little to ease the aching between your legs that persists whenever he and his men visit.

You all disperse and walk among the crowd. Usually most girls will immediately go and talk a man up but now you all just stand around awkwardly, letting men approach you and take you upstairs, or just take you right down here.

You’re taken upstairs a few times by a few different men. And later on, you’re sitting in a very drunk man’s lap down in the saloon with your breasts out, smoking a cigarette. He's playing a poker game and slowly losing everything.

Your eyes scan your surroundings: men brawling, naked women bent over, their legs splayed open. The usual.

Through the clamor around you, you can feel his eyes on you.

Joel Miller.

You'd seen him before, and his cold gaze had made your skin crawl.

You knew he was dangerous and you’d heard the stories about him. You’d never talked to him, only seen him when he came by. After making his rounds through the town, he’d just sit at the bar and drink as his men ran wild. To your knowledge, he didn’t even have sex with any of the girls.

You tried to avoid his gaze but you could feel his eyes on you through the thick haze of smoke. It wasn't fair that he was so handsome, weathered from the desert sun. His soft brown hair was laced with gray, just like his short scruffy beard. He looked like could've been a man that was kind, if it wasn't for the dead stare in his eyes. Meeting his eyes you could see how cold blooded he was, how merciless.

After a while, Joel instructed his men to gather everything up. The barkeep and your pimp seemed like they couldn’t wait to get rid of them, their regulars bloodied and slumped over, the bar a mess.

You were pulling the top of your dress back over your breasts when you spotted Joel speaking to your pimp, who was looking distressed. Your stomach churned. That couldn’t be good.

You were on your way up the stairs when you heard your name being called, panic flooded your system.

You turned, frozen. Your heart was pounding as the other girls ran by you.

Anna-Leigh tugged your arm, "C'mon!"

You turned and the only thing you could do was shake your head.

"What's wrong?" She asked, confused.

Your pimp, growing impatient, walked up the stairs and grabbed your elbow, dragging you down.

"I know y'don't want to." He grumbled, "But I'm not bein' given much of'a choice."

Your feet dragged on the wood as you struggled to catch your footing. Did Joel suddenly decide he wanted to fuck you? Mr. Polk yanked you over to him.

Joel's broad form towered over you as you approached. You felt small under his gaze, you'd never been this close to him before. You took in his scent of desert dirt and sweat. His broad shoulders, hulking biceps and soft stomach stretched his stained white button down. The fringe on his cowhide jacket swayed as he took his hat off his head and ran a hand through his graying curls.

You stood looking up at him, eyes wide. He looked down at you without a hint of warmth and grabbed your arm roughly, spinning you around.

You gasped at his touch and anticipated to be bent over and have your skirt hiked up. Instead he just looked at you and turned you back to face him. He made an approving grunt and nodded his head.

"Yeah." His voice was deep and gruff, "This one."

He reached into his bag on the bar and pulled out a sack that he let fall open, gold coins falling out all over the counter.

You started to feel sick.

"Give you this for her." He said casually.

A spike of fear bolted through you.

"W-what?"

Your pimp sighed and turned to you,

"Go get y'things honey."

"What?" That felt like all you could say, "N-no."

You turned to see Anna-Leigh and the other girls staring at you. Your friend looked just as terrified as you felt. Tears freed themselves from your eyes.

"God damnit girl I said go get your fucking things." Mr. Polk yelled and gave you a shake. You looked at Joel who simply nodded his head up, as if telling you to go upstairs.

You sniffled and ran up the stairs, your sobs breaking through as you graced the landing and echoing as you flung yourself into your room.

-

You hiccuped as you threw your few belongings into a suitcase, everything blurred as you cried.

You were only able to get a few items packed before you broke down and sobbed uncontrollably.

You suddenly felt the arms of your friend wrapping around you as other girls gathered around you, all stroking and hugging you.

You blinked back tears and tried to speak but you couldn’t. They just held you as you all cried. There wasn’t really anything they could say to make things better anyway.

You gasped and shuddered, trying to catch your breath. Anna-Leigh took your face in her hands,

“It’s okay, baby, breathe.” She said, tears falling down her face as well. You shook your head and kept crying.

Your pimp appeared in the doorway, looking mournful as he held his hat in his hands.

“How dare you!” Anna-Leigh screamed at him from where she held you.

“I’m sorry.” He said, looking down, “It’s either her or they take all a’you. Destroy the bar, hell maybe even the whole town.”

You cried harder, realizing that there was truly no way out of this. If you didn’t go with Joel, you’d be damning your sisters. You let out a final anguished cry before you got up shakily and continued to pack your things. You went down to the bar which was quiet, the men all watching with bated breath.

Mr. Polk escorted you down and you walked over to Joel again, whose smirk made you nauseous. You looked down at the floor as one of his men took your bag from you.

“Alright sweetheart.” Your pimp murmured, “You be good for Mr. Miller now.”

You nodded as tears ran down your face silently.

“Move out.” Joel addressed his men.

It hit you again that you were really leaving and you started sobbing again.

“No please!” You begged your pimp, “Don’t let him take me please!”

Joel reached out and grabbed your arm,

“I ain’t got time for this girl!” He sneered and ripped you away.

“No…” you cried as he dragged you along.

Anna-Leigh ran up and hugged you one last time. Joel let her, but made an irritated noise and squeezed you painfully when she took too long.

She pulled away and grabbed your face in her hands.

“You can do this.” She said, her voice breaking, “You’re gonna be strong.”

You hiccuped and shook your head,

“Be strong ok?” She nodded at you as Joel finally wrenched you away.

“That’s enough!” He barked, “I’ve already been mighty patient with you folks. Stop fuckin�� testing me!”

Everyone stared at him, silent and full of fear.

You could only cry harder as he dragged you outside. He picked you up and set you on his horse, untying its reigns from the post. 

“Hey!” You heard a voice call out and turned on the horse to see one of your drunken regulars, stumbling towards you,

“Thas’ my favorite whore!” He slurred, “My favorite fuckin’ whore, y’can’t-“ he hiccuped and stumbled. The people of the town shuffled out of their houses to watch the action.

Joel smiled at the man coldly,

“That’s your favorite whore, huh?” He asked, standing over him. He rolled him over with the toe of his boot.

“M-my whore.” The man warbled.

Joel didn’t really know why but white hot rage shot through him. He inhaled sharply and stomped on the man’s face, hard. He heard you gasp from the back of his horse which only ignited him further.

“She’s my fuckin’ whore now!” He yelled and spat in his face.

Fueled by rage and power, he turned to his right hand with an idea.

“Get me the rope, John.”

The man writhed on the ground, moaning and clutching his face. Joel approached the back of his horse with the rope, making you shuffle back in fear.

“Relax darlin’ this ain’t for you.” He breathed and tied the end of it to the saddle. Then, he turned to the man and bent down, tying the rope around his hands above his head.

You watched in shock and heard people around you, whispering.

“Alright!” Joel said after he was done. He got up onto the horse in front of you.

“Hold on baby.” He said softly and you reluctantly wrapped your arms around his middle.

Adrenaline coursed through him at the thought of the freedom of the mountains, of riding out of this stupid town with a pretty girl on his horse and a worthless drunk at his mercy. He turned to see John, who was giving him a knowing smile, the one he always gave him before they rode.

“Let’s ride.” Joel said, his voice gravelly like the desert sand. Before you could blink, they urged their horses onward and took off at high speed. You couldn’t help but let out a little scream as you startled and grabbed at him.

Your noise of shock was substituted by the agonized screams of the man being pulled by Joel’s horse. Begging and crying just like you had earlier.

You turned and watched the town get smaller, Anna-Leigh stood at the front of the crowd and gave you a pitiful wave. You looked down and saw the bloody body of the man.

You squeezed your eyes shut and turned back around, whimpering as you buried your face in Joel’s broad back.

Your tears stained his jacket as you rode away from the place that you had made your home. Towards a terrifying, shackled future.

-

As you journeyed on, you sat behind Joel on his horse, your hands clinging to his weathered leather jacket. His silence only made you more uneasy.

You feared for what the future held, gone was the stability of the brothel, the protection of your pimp. You were in a lawless land with a man who answered to no one. You’d heard the stories about Joel Miller, about the things he’d done.

You didn’t know how he’d treat a woman, if he’d be rough or gentle. Or if he’d throw you to his men. That was what you were the most afraid of.

You traveled for hours, eventually setting up camp as the sun began to set. As the air grew colder, Joel passed you a thick blanket to wrap around yourself. You sat in front of the fire with him as his men kept themselves occupied.

You brooded as you stared into the fire. You were still kind of in shock. This man had taken you away from everything, your life was gone. You didn't know if you were ever going to see your friends again.

You didn't realize, when you'd started spreading your legs for men, that this could happen. That you could be bought and sold like cattle.

You were scared for life with this godless outlaw. You didn't even know where you'd be living. Would you just sleep out in the desert like this? Would you spend the rest of your days being pounded by vicious men into the hard, dry earth?

"Want ‘sum meat?" Joel's gruff voice broke you from your thoughts. You turned to him apprehensively. He held out a piece of dried meat, offering it to you.

"Go on."

You slowly took it from him and took a bite like a scared wild animal. It was pretty good.

"Thank you." You said softly.

Joel looked satisfied with your response, you were both quiet for a while longer until you finally couldn't help yourself.

“Is this uh…” You spoke and he looked over to you, the fire casting sharp shadows across his handsome features.

“Is this how you normally live?” You finally asked, hoping you weren’t being disrespectful.

Joel shook his head after a moment.

“We’re travelin’ now.” He said, “but we got a place, nice and comfortable for a lady.”

You smiled a little bit at that last part.

“Thank you sir.” You wished you didn’t sound so scared, “I was just curious.”

“S’alright.” He grumbled out and began focusing on whittling a piece of wood.

-

The journey was hard but you tried your best to keep up. Joel never raised his voice at you, he didn’t really talk to you all that much in general. He hadn’t even touched you yet either. It seemed he was focused on getting everyone home.

His strength and capability drew you to him, but he still scared you.

After days of traveling, you finally reached where he and his men lived; a small grouping of cabins a mile or so away from a small village. It was just as well, since the sun was beginning to set over the horizon.

You still weren't sure what to think. Joel has been gentlemanly towards you so far. He still scared you though. His smoldering silence made you more uneasy than any unsavory man you'd ever encountered. He kept all his cards concealed, barely spoke, only when he needed to. His calm felt like that which preceded a storm, he commanded respect.

You didn't know what to expect from him.

You entered one of the larger cabins with Joel. It was nice, modest, and smelled of carpentry and tobacco. He set down his lantern on one of the wooden tables and dropped your things down with a slight groan.

His men unloaded everything, then they all nodded at each other and all left, closing the door and leaving you with Joel.

He moved purposefully, picking up wood from a corner and moving to the fireplace.

"Need to get a fire goin'." You heard his deep voice in the near darkness. The shadows thrown on his broad back made him seem even larger than he already was.

You didn't move, unsure of what to do, not wanting to make him mad.

After a fire was crackling he moved towards you silently, the wood creaking under his heavy footsteps. You resisted the urge to shrink away from him.

He was so close to you now, right in front of you.

"You were a real good girl on that trip." He said, his gravelly voice soft, the sound immediately went to your cunt and you were shocked at how aroused you suddenly became. 

You weren't sure what to say, you kept your eyes down, your hands behind your back.

He held your jaw and tilted your face up to look at him.

"You need to keep bein' good." He said, his tone a warning, "You don't cause any fuckin' trouble, you do what I say."

You felt breathless, the feeling of his hand on your face setting you on fire.

"Yes sir." You said quickly.

He smiled softly, "Good girl." He said gently and, to your shock, leaned forward and kissed your forehead. You gasped a little.

"Remember," His voice was still soft and velvety, "I own you now." He gripped the back of your neck tightly, "That means you're mine and I decide what to do with you."

You swallowed the dry lump in your throat. You wanted to cry. You never liked being a prostitute, but at least at the brothel you were free, not a man's property. At least, you thought you'd been.

But Joel had paid for you fair and square. You were his now.

You whimpered a little at the thought and he grabbed your hair, yanking your head back,

"Answer me when I talk to you girl." He spat.

"Yes sir, I'm sorry!" you choked out.

Seeming satisfied, he let go and patted your cheek, then moved away. It felt like you could finally breathe.

"I'm gonna get us some supper ," He said, "You stay here, make yourself at home."

With that he was gone. You stood in the single room cabin, your heart rate finally slowing down.

You looked around, the place was big enough, it felt cozy. There were some old chairs by the fire with a small handcrafted table in front of them.

The other side of the room had a big soft looking bed, then there was an area to the right with pots, pans and other things for cooking. Besides a small room off to the side with a basin of water and a cracked mirror, that was it.

It wasn't much, but it was nice. It felt normal. There were blankets everywhere. Cotton, knitted, animal hide, what have you.

It all made you feel a little better, but not by that much.

Joel came back in and gathered fixings for dinner. He had you both sit in front of the fire outside along with his other men. You all sat on logs gathered round. His men were boisterous and shameless as usual, but they only did so much as leer at you.

The food was pretty good, and you appreciated the hot meal.

When you shivered a little bit, Joel slipped off his fringe jacket and put it around your shoulders. You looked up at him and couldn't help but smile a little. How sweet, how...considerate.

He looked down at you, and smiled back. The wrinkles around his brown eyes became more pronounced, making his normally dead piercing gaze softer, kinder. A warmth bloomed in your chest.

-

After dinner was done, you both returned to his cabin. He cleaned up as you got comfortable, changing into a long, off the shoulder white cotton dress that held your breasts nicely.

You settled into his bed. It smelled like wood, tobacco, whiskey, him. The blankets and pillows were soft and you tucked your legs up, opening your diary. Beginning a new entry, you didn't even know where to start. Your entries were definitely going to get more interesting.

You wrote for a while before you heard a man enter the cabin. Looking up, you saw Joel and began to stand up but he put up a hand, stopping you.

You watched him walk over to the fire, his knees creaking a little as he bent down and threw a fresh log in. 

He sighed and slumped back in one of the chairs, kicking off his boots, unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning his shirt.

You observed him for a while, his beautiful hooked nose illuminated by the firelight, his hair looked soft, his tough expression relaxed a bit.

You finally lost interest and returned to your diary, desperately trying to explain to it how you came to be in this situation.

Joel took swigs from his flask and worked on his whittling as you wrote. He liked the peacefulness, he liked that there was a pretty girl in his bed. You had come with him so easily, been so obedient. Sure, you'd been upset initially, but he hadn’t expected you not to be.

You'd been good, so far. You followed his orders and you were thankful for all the things that he gave you.

Compliant little thing.

He suddenly got an idea.

-

You had already covered two pages in writing when he called your name.

You sat up quickly and set your diary on his bed, slid off and walked across the wooden floor until you were in front of him.

“Yes sir?” You asked, your heart pounding slightly.

“Take off your dress.” He said quietly.

The command caught you off guard and you froze for a moment.

“I-what?”

“Take off. Your dress.” He repeated flatly, “Wanna take a look at what’s mine.”

His words both made your stomach hurt and your pussy ache. It felt like your feet and hands were going numb.

You took him in, his hard stare, the yearning and darkness in his eyes. You realized you had been fooled earlier tonight by his chivalry.

You swallowed and nodded, you were used to this business. You took a deep breath and untied the top of your dress, letting the bodice fall loosely around your chest. You gathered the fabric and pulled it over your head. You weren't wearing any undergarments so as your white dress billowed to the ground, you were left completely naked for him.

You heard him make a noise of approval and he nodded, smiling.

"Knew you were a good girl."

He eyed you up and down. His gaze made goosebumps erupt on your skin, causing your nipples to harden as he examined you. He stayed in his chair, his legs spread. You could see his bulge straining against his jeans.

You could feel your heartbeat pounding in your cunt...maybe Joel Miller would be gentle with you?

He finally stood up. Looming over you, he ran his large, rough hands over your arms, then your stomach and finally, up to cup and squeeze your breasts.

You couldn't help but let out a soft moan, Joel chuckled softly,

"I know baby," He rasped, "You've been waitin’ so long, been so patient."

You nodded quickly, your eyes wide as you looked up at him. Your complete submissiveness to him was due to his power, but you couldn't help but feel a little excited for this strong, terrifying man to take you.

"Go get on the bed for me."

"Yes sir." You said softly and he let out an almost inaudible groan. You walked over to the bed and laid on your back, immediately spreading your legs.

Joel laughed a little and shook his head as though in disbelief,

"Damn, I picked the right fuckin’ girl didn't I?"

-

He sat on the bed beside you as you lay, your pussy still on display for him, your arms on either side of your head.

Completely his, ready to be taken by him. It kind of shocked you that you had surrendered and accepted this role so quickly. But then again, you didn't have much of a choice, this was the easy way.

"Damn." He sighed as he let his eyes fall over you. He took his time touching you, slowly playing with you. You let your eyes flutter shut as you let him explore you, taking in his newest possession.

He touched you everywhere, except where you needed him most. You squirmed and whimpered, moving your hips to get his fingers anywhere near your wet cunt.

Joel quickly landed a harsh spank on your pussy and you cried out.

"Cut that shit out." He growled, "You're gonn' take what I give you and be a grateful little whore."

You nodded quickly.

"Say it."

"I'm-I'm gonna be a grateful little whore."

"Thas' right."

His thick fingers dragged through your dripping cunt and you let out a moan. He drew closer to you, inhaling the dizzying scent of your arousal and spreading your slickness up to your clit.

"Joel..." You whined and rolled your hips against his fingers.

"Good girl," He said huskily, "Jus like that."

He moved his fingers faster and you moaned and arched your back. No man had ever taken his time with you in this way.

You felt the pleasure wash over you and you let your moans echo around the cabin freely. You'd learned it wasn't a bad thing to be loud, your old pimp had always told you it was good advertising.

After taking in your reaction to that, Joel shifted his focus and curiously buried two thick fingers into your cunt. You moaned and gasped at the way he stretched you, it felt fucking amazing.

"Joel!" You cried out and rocked your hips in time with his hand. Following his movements and somehow doing exactly what he wanted.

He liked how responsive you were, how obedient.

He pulled his fingers out of you without warning and you whined at the sudden emptiness.

Joel got on his knees on the bed, towering over you. He pulled his shirt off and undid his jeans, pulling them down just enough to free his cock.

You audibly gasped when you took in the sight of it and he laughed a little.

"What? Not expectin’ me to be this big?"

"I-no-sir I didn't-I mean-" You stuttered.

"S'alright sweetheart." He murmured, "You wanna touch me?"

You stared at his thick manhood. You had no idea how fucking big it was, you reached your hand out and wrapped it around him, your fingers just meeting each other around his girth.

Oh fuck.

You whined and pumped his length, spitting on it and letting it spread over him.

His cock was beautiful, powerful and imposing, resting rock hard and heavy between his strong thighs. His balls hung heavy, his dark hair running wild up to his round stomach.

You sighed, contentedly.

Joel smirked, his large hand resting on the side of your head, cradling you as your hand worked him.

You looked up at him submissively, your eyelashes fluttering. Joel moaned at the way you pleaded for him without even saying anything. You were like a siren. He'd known you were the one the minute he saw you down in that saloon.

He suddenly pushed you back, roughly. Making you yelp out in surprise as your head hit the soft pillows. He looked at you hungrily and grabbed your hips, flipping you over so you landed on your stomach, bouncing up off the bed a little.

He yanked your hips up so you were on your knees, grunting and breathing heavily. You moaned and arched your back, spreading yourself for him.

You felt the head of his cock swipe through your folds and your heart raced with anticipation. He took a sharp inhale before slamming into your cunt with a snarl.

"FUCK!" You cried out, not expecting the sudden burn or stretch. Even with how wet you were, his massive cock split you open.

You gasped and whined as Joel kept himself buried in your pussy, groaning as he rocked his hips, getting harder and more forceful.

You let yourself become undone by him and he started sliding out and slamming into you more, getting faster and more enthusiastic.

He grunted and breathed heavily through gritted teeth as he pounded into you. He threw his head back, using his grip on your hips to move you and fuck your pussy. The way you moaned and screamed for him only spurred him further, abusing your cunt.

He was in control. He bought you, he owned you, you were his whore. Forever.

"Oh fuck!" He groaned, gasping as those thoughts brought him even closer, along with the squeeze of your cunt.

You couldn't even speak, your face was pressed into the pillow as you cried and drooled. You'd lost track of how many times you'd come, just letting yourself be used by him at this point. You couldn't deny that it felt amazing.

Joel leaned over and put a paw-like hand over the back of your head, crushing your face into the bed as he leaned over. Putting his weight on you, he used that to fuck you even harder.

Your cries were muffled and you almost couldn't breathe. Joel's thrusts became sloppier and you heard his breathing turn into desperate moaning. He finally came, thick ropes of cum shooting directly into you making you gasp and moan. The men at the brothel were never allowed to cum in you. If a girl got pregnant, she either got it taken care of or she was out.

But you were Joel's now. And Joel was the one who decided what happened to you.

He fucked his cum into you more, causing it to spurt out. Then he pulled back, you took a deep breath and relaxed onto the bed, his cock still keeping you plugged up.

"That's right baby." He murmured, "Good girl."

You let out a beautiful whine, your cunt tightening around his cock as he stroked your hair away from your face.

He sighed as he knelt over your limp form, his cock still keeping his seed in you.

You didn't move, When he finally eased out of you gently, you winced and cried out at the loss.

"I know, I know." He said softly, petting your hair.

He grabbed a cloth and wiped at your cunt, getting most of the mess cleaned up. When he decided that was good, he eased your hips down and turned you over.

You wriggled into a comfortable position, tucking your hair behind your ear and smiling up at him shyly.

He smiled at you again, the same one he'd given you at dinner. His normally cold eyes looked warm and safe.

You slipped your hands up around his neck, your eyes falling down to his lips under his scruffy beard.

He ran the rough pad of his thumb over your cheekbone,

"Such a good little whore." He said softly, then he leaned down and kissed you.

His lips weren't pressed against yours for that long but it still sparked electricity through you.

He pulled away and breathed out a laugh, "Alright, let's try an' get some sleep now."

"Yes sir." You said softly.

He put out the fire and the lantern and stripped off his pants before getting under the covers with you. His strong arms wrapped around you, pulling you into him, his softening cock pressing against your ass.

He buried his nose in your hair, each hand covering your tits, keeping them warm.

You nuzzled into his hold, you couldn't remember the last time you'd been held like this. You turned around and buried your face in his hairy chest. 

You had…liked that. You really liked it. You knew how wrong this all was. You knew that to him you were just a whore, his property, but…maybe you could make peace with that? Maybe Joel Miller would be a good owner.

You hated that you were even thinking that.

His large hand rested on your back, holding you close to him as your exhausted mind finally succumbed to sleep.

-

THANK YOU FOR READING I LOVE YOU

This is my first Joel fic AND my first dead dove fic which I didn’t think I’d be able to write but I had sm fun writing this!! Thank you to @toxicanonymity and @romana-after-dark and all the girlies with their scary Joels who inspired me🖤

YEEHAW LETS RIDE🐎🐎🐎

[viridwns]

The way I've been daydreaming about an innocent and go lucky darling slowly being caged by demon!Chrollo.

Also I wrote this at 2 AM so expect spelling mistakes and the plot making no sense. Tbh this sounds like regular Chrollo as well.

Demon!Chrollo, who was summoned by some low ranking mob boss. The idiot thought that with a demon by his side, he would quickly rise the ranks.

Demon!Chrollo, who manipulated said boss in summoning his troupe as well. After he didn't even need to flick his wrist or bloodsplatters already tainted the walls

Demon!Chrollo, who has waited millenias to be summoned again. Being locked away by the zoldyck's for messing with their affairs was a greater problem than Chrollo would've liked.

Demon!Chrollo, who kept a low profile, preparing him and his troupe to start hoarding things from the human world again. Especially rare ones that were not easy to obtain. He was crazy about that.

Demon!Chrollo, who slowly but surely gained power again, wreaking havoc on everyone who did him wrong. He stayed in the shadows while he did, pouncing on human souls when they least expected it. Oh, how he missed feeding of the people from earth.

Demon!Chrollo, who first saw you in your pretty white sun dress wearing a big white bow in your hair to match. You were sitting by a window reading in a smalltown bookshop. He had been planning on taking over this town soon enough. He needed to gain as much strength as he could before terrorizing the big cities like York New.

Demon!Chrollo, who grows curious of you. The bookshop itself was deserted. It also didn't help that you were wearing something so bright in contrast to the dim shop. Even the town was somber, so why were you dressed all pretty and light?

Demon!Chrollo, who couldn't help but focus intensly on your soft face. You honestly looked like the human version of a bunny. Is this what humans meant with cute?

Demon!Chrollo, who is amused by your lack of awareness. He's been standing in the middle of the shop for 10 minutes staring at you, and you were totally captivated by your book

Demon!Chrollo, who can't help but clear his throat. Biting back an involuntary smile when your head moves into his direction, but your eyes stay on your book a while longer.

Demon!Chrollo, who says he didn't mind when you apologize vigorously for making him wait once your focus shifted on him. He finds it strange how he didn't kill you yet. You were alone in a deserted place, this was the perfect opportunity, but yet he can't help to find out more a about you.

Demon!Chrollo, who finds out you were the owner of the shop, but business has been running slow. You were still weirdly upbeat, even when you were on the verge of going broke.

Demon!Chrollo, who buys a few books based on your recommendations, you just keep rambling on to him, not a care in the world. He lets you reach for books on the highest shelves, just to see you stand on your tippy toes. Your frilly dress lifting ever so slighty for him to see where exactly your stockings stop. Mid thigh. He swoops in last second, when you were about to get a ladder, leaning over you from behind and getting the book; apologizing for letting you do so much work.

Demon!Chrollo, who can't get enough of your soft smiles, small giggles and your sunny personality. When you're from a world that has only seen the worst of mankind, you were a welcomed refreshment.

Demon!Chrollo, who thinks it's stupid how fast you trust him, but it bothers him more to think about how quickly you would trust others. You just don't seem to think you can get hurt.

Demon!Chrollo, who takes the initiative to visit you every day. He must protect his angel.

Demon!Chrollo, who is surprised by how little you know about the actual world. You see the world in rainbows and glitter, not having seen what's out there beyond this smalltown life. When he told you one of his 'adventures' (leaving the not so pleasant details out) you couldn't get enough of it.

Demon!Chrollo, who has to hold back when you listen to him with your eyes wide and big, your mouth slightly parted, and your overhelming load of questions.

Demon!Chrollo, who secretly wants to corrupt you. Every time you wear a pretty bow or a white dress with lace stockings hugging your legs so nice, he can't help the urge to bend you over the cashier, lift up your so easily accessible dress to find out you are wearing silk panties and fuck you so hard your purity ring shatters right off your finger.

Demon!Chrollo, who wants to show you what he is, what an angel like you has been spending time with. He wants to drag you with him to hell, to consume your soul and make you like him.

Demon!Chrollo, who likes to show off just a fraction of his strength to you by moving furniture where you want it. Or who uses his speed to steal some of your stuff from right under your nose. You won't know it was him, you're too oblivious.

Demon!Chrollo, who never had such intense attractions to a human before. He wasn't inexperienced when it came to mates, but those were all to quench his needs. He couldn't help but want to lock you up and keep you at his side forever.

Demon!Chrollo, who uses his alluring voice to make you do what he wants. You won't even remember the next day. Thinking the bruising on your thighs is just from bumping into too many corners (even though some bruises look like very clear bitemarks of something that has sharp canines)

Demon!Chrollo, who won't penetrate you just yet. He wants you conscious for that. He uses his outwordly looks to seduce you. You're very playful, he finds. He never knows if you are flirting or just being...you. When you steal his book from him and he responds with cornering you, coming up all nice and close in your face, but you only respond with giggles, slapping the book in his chest and booping his nose before escaping his trap.

Demon!Chrollo, who also wants to keep you the way you are. Who wants to keep you as his little human who fills his day with a lovely smile. He wants you at his side as he destroys town after to town, as he becomes stronger and more powerful.

Demon!Chrollo, who keeps his cool with you but slowly cages you in. You don't leave the bookshop that much anymore, not when he is there most of the time, keeping you company and somehow taking care of your every need. He has taken a personal claim on your pure soul, and demons are very posessive of what is theirs.

[tomionefinds]

Fluff/Soft Fics

Things are hard. Here are some softer Tom, some humorous, and some fluffy fics to cuddle with. Graphic by Mod April - TF Team

Just Another Girl Alone at the Bar by Spork_in_the_Road

M | Complete | 8k

“Oh Ron-Ron, you’re too funny,” a feminine voice says, giggling. Hermione thinks she might vomit. In which Hermione pretends Tom is her boyfriend until he actually is.

Hot Lips by nauticalparamour

E | One-shot | 3k

When Tom Riddle finds out that Hermione Granger has a phone sex line, his first inclination is to use it to blackmail her. But, once he gets her talking, he doesn't want it to end.

Forever Means Forever by cocoartist

T | Complete | 7k

If she ever saw Unspeakable Number 37 again she would kill him with her bare hands: Hermione's research into the Veil has an unexpected side-effect. COMPLETE.

A Naughty Niffler by bunnystealsyourcarrots

E | One-shot | 2k

Hermione finds herself sucked into an unknown world with an old familiar face

Youth in Retrospect by provocative_envy

E | One shot | 8k

She’s buying a box of condoms when she meets him. “Those are shit, you know,” he says, jerking his chin at the pale purple box in her hand. “Can’t feel anything.” She stares at him for a moment too long. The bell above the door jingles merrily as a rowdy group of schoolboys enters the store. “Excuse you,” she replies, cheeks turning pink.

Nerve Damage by januarywren

T | Complete | 6k

“Working late again?” Hermione asked, leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, her raised eyebrow daring him to make a smart remark. That look had sent more than one ex fuming—but not him. Never him. Tom glanced up from his paperwork, his usual mask of indifference giving way to a slow, lazy smile. “Someone has to keep things running smoothly around here. I thought you’d be fast asleep by now, Miss Granger.” She let her gaze wander over the surprising disarray of his desk, piled high with case files and pages dotted with notes in his precise handwriting. She'd teased him more than once about his borderline obsessive need for order, how every pen, every scrap of paper, had its place. But she didn't mention it now or comment on the faint stain on his collar. Losing a patient did things to a person—things no textbook or professor could ever prepare them for. House M.D. Inspired AU | There’s a sickness between Hermione and Tom that neither has any desire to cure. (It isn't love. It isn't. 🖤)

communication errors by esotyric (devilrie)

T | Complete | 7k

sender: tmriddle@walpurgis.net recipient: hermionegranger@gryffinsdor.org subject: Today’s Meeting Granger – Attached is the dry-cleaning bill for the shirt you ruined when you threw your tea at it. I’m not sure if you noticed, but I happened to be wearing the shirt at the time. You are lucky it was cold. Pay the bill and I won’t sue you for assault. Regards, Thomas Marvolo Riddle CEO of Walpurgis Corporate sender: hermionegranger@gryffinsdor.org recipient: tmriddle@walpurgis.net subject: re: Today’s Meeting Riddle – I did notice, because unlike you, I can identify when something is being inhabited, you forest-destroying monster. You do not require a dry cleaner to get herbal tea out of a shirt. The shirt was black, the tea was camomile, and you have no grounds on which to stand nor sue. Your company, however, WILL be exposed for the havoc it is wreaking upon our natural world. Sincerely, Hermione Jean Granger CEO of Not being a Twat

Domestic Bliss by airgloweffect

M | one shot | 693

A snapshot into the life of Tom and Hermione Riddle.AU

Avada Kedavra Anonymous by Speechwriter

K+ | Complete | 8k

No one missed Riddle's pale fist tightening around the useless wand in his lap. "I am Tom," he ground out. "I am here for the sole reason that the alternative was community service." / Hermione moderates a post-Avada Kedavra support group. Chaos ensues.

A Nose that Can See by Colubrina

Hermione Granger has found herself inexplicably tossed back into time to Tom Riddle's Hogwarts. And he's a Veela and, wouldn't you know it, she's his mate. Could life get worse? But he seems to have an endless supply of out-of-season fruit so it can't be all bad, right? Tomione. Major character death, musical theater, and all that fruit. COMPLETE. Hermione Granger has found herself inexplicably tossed back into time to Tom Riddle's Hogwarts. And he's a Veela and, wouldn't you know it, she's his mate. Could life get worse? But he seems to have an endless supply of out-of-season fruit so it can't be all bad, right? Tomione. Major character death, musical theater, and all that fruit. COMPLETE.

Tommy Played Guitar by PacificRimbaud

E | One shot |3k

Tom Riddle takes his coffee black and plays in a rock and roll band.

Playing Cupid by Meowmers

M | Complete | 14k

"I'm beginning to think that I would love to hear you scream." Tomione. Regency AU. Rated-M.

A Four Letter Word by elizabethriddle

E | One shot | 4k

Tom Riddle was not impulsive. He was a planner. He never did anything without carefully considering all possible outcomes and controlling all of the variables. And he never let emotions impact his decisions. He had planned, meticulously, for the post as DADA Professor. How did it all go so wrong?

Sailor Trouble by The-Empress-of-Snark (uleanblue)

Not Rated | Complete | 9k

Hermione Granger attempts to restore the Founder's Relics, with unexpected results.

you did some bad things, but i'm the worst of them by coffeepolariod

E | Complete | 22k

“You want to watch your back, Miss Granger,” Dolohov gestured to Tom with his head. “This man won’t go easy on you, won’t entertain your parlour tricks, and most definitely will not hold back as he tears your confidence down: brick by brick.” or: Hermione Granger needs to win this poker game but Tom Riddle is there at every turn.

Tempora Abducto by Flaignhan (almost anything by this author)

T | Complete | 53k

Inconveniently it's the things that need fixing the most which are often irreparable.

[homoquartz]

it's the first day of fall!!

🍂🍃🍁🍂

i am back, i am alive, this is the season when i scrape and claw my way from the grave to wreak havoc on the heterosexual.

i got my queer, season-appropriate shows lined up. i have pumpkin spice muffin mix and scented pinecones locked and loaded. i am prepared to be a problem.

all hail homoween!! 🎃💀

[lucisfavoritedemon]

Through The Portal: Chapter 3

Series Masterlist

Chapter Summary: Stan finally learns what really happened to Y/n back in 1973. Stan realizes the sweet girl he once knew isn’t as bubbly as she used to be, but is determined to bring her back however he can.

Pairing(s): Stan x reader (platonic present, romantic past), Ford x platonic!reader, Dipper x best friend!reader, Mabel x best friend!reader Bill x reader

Warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of hopelessness, mental manipulation, unrequited love, flashbacks.

A/N: The events and ideas are based on a theory I have about the Nightmare Realm. This is in no way canonically true, just my theories based on what we canonically know about the Nightmare Realm.

“Wait, New Jersey?” Mabel and Dipper questioned simultaneously.

I nodded as Stan gave me a look of, ‘don't tell them just yet’. I guess in a way Stan was right, I probably shouldn’t tell them about the fact I technically am 61 years old. So I decided to tell them a little white lie.

“Yeah, I grew up in New Jersey. Just like Stan and Ford did.”

“So, how did you end up here? Did you work with Ford?” Mabel asked curiously.

“Don’t be silly Mabel, she’s not old enough to have worked with Ford on the portal.” Dipper interjected.

“Then you must be his daughter!” Mabel beamed.

“No! I-I’m not Ford’s daughter.” I quickly tried to correct her.”

“Then are you Stan’s daughter?” Mabel questioned.

“No, I have no relation to them at all. It’s a long story that I’m not ready to share just yet.”

“But, you do know Stan. You said that you were sorry you left. So, what happened?” Dipper asked, ready to write it down on a notepad as if he was interviewing me.

Stan walked up behind the two kids before I had the chance to protest, “why don’t you two go wreak havoc or whatever somewhere else. I need to speak with Y/n.”

Mabel and Dipper groaned, but didn’t protest as Stan shoved them out of the gift shop. Stan walked back over to the chair he was sitting in. He gave a questioning look before he finally spoke up, “so, now that the kids are gone, tell me what you meant by you didn’t mean to walk through that stupid portal.”

I take a deep breath before speaking, “look, Stan, it was an accident. I was just doing some test runs on the mechanics. I was not prepared for it to start up and suck me in. I spent years trying to get back to you. I knew you’d be upset with me…I didn’t want to leave…” I answered.

“Then why were you building it in the first place!?” Stan was agitated.

“I…I wanted to win a Nobel prize or a huge patent so you and I could get out of that town. I wanted to give you the one thing you always talked about…to sail around the world on the adventure of a lifetime.

“I-I know I’m not the person you wanted to do that with…but I wanted to make you feel like you finally had someone who cared about you. I did care about you, more than you knew Stan.” I finally confessed.

Stan couldn’t even think of what to say. All these years he had blamed me for leaving him alone in the world again, but he didn’t know I had planned it out thoroughly. He felt like a jerk for judging me without knowing my true plan.

“Y-you were doing it…for me?”

I nodded, “I knew that either you could use the money to sail around the world, or bring the fortune to your family and make up for your mistake. Either way, I didn’t want the money or the fame, I was doing it because I thought it would make you happy.”

“And now I’m the jerk for blaming you after all these years…and I never really asked why you were doing it.”

I smile softly at hsi response. It wasn’t completely wrong. I wanted Stan to be able to rid himself of his guilt and move past his mistake. I had also been tricked into doing so, but I wasn’t ready to confess to him that if I had succeeded that he never would have gotten what I wanted him to get out of it.

“I think I was more upset that I lost the girl I was crushing on more than anything…” Stan confessed, rubbing the back of his neck.

“W-wait…y-you were crushing on me?” I was taken aback by his confession. I knew Stan liked me, but I never imagined he thought of me in that light.

He just nods, “that seems like a lifetime ago though. I’m different now than I used to be.”

“You and me both…” I look down at the floor knowing I probably opened a huge can of worms that I won’t be able to stick back in.

“I could tell. Whatever you saw in there, whatever you went through, must have been rough for you.”

“You have no idea.”

I floated in a daze. This place had no gravity, no sense of time, it was utter chaos.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t dear ol’ sweet Y/n. What brings you here sweetheart?” Bill’s voice seemed to boom as it had really nothing to bounce off of.

“B-Bill? Where am I?”

“You’re in my dimension. Too bad your invention failed because if it hadn’t this would be released upon your dimension, and you and I could rule over everything! I could just imagine it.”

“Y-your dimension? This is where you live?” I was horrified at what I saw.

Bill was surrounded by strange and weird beings of chaos. I couldn’t believe I had been tricked. Had I truly succeeded, it would have meant the end of the world as I knew it, everyone I cared about would have been put in danger, and It would have been all my fault.

Bill starts to laugh his demented laugh, “yes! Welcome to the Nightmare Realm! A place where chaos reigns! Too bad you failed med, I could have used a partner in crime to help create chaos with me.”

“You tricked me! I trusted you!”

“If I told you my true plans you would have backed out of it. I had no choice, sweetheart.”

“Stop calling me that! I’m not your sweetheart anymore, Cipher! You tricked me, and almost made me destroy my world!”“Not my sweetheart anymore huh?” He looked like he was starting to get angry.

I knew I needed to get away. I started to float away from him as he called his henchmaniacs to catch me. I floated towards an asteroid field and was able to avoid getting caught. I slipped into the hole looking for sanctuary. That’s when I realized I wasn't alone.

After Stan and I talked things out, I needed to find something mindless to get my mind off of everything. I decided to try and get to know the young Pines twins better. They were both sitting in the living room watching TV.

“Hey kids.” I say softly, announcing my presence.

“Y/n!” They both exclaimed excitedly.

“I thought Stan was going to tell you to stay away from us or something?” Mabel blurted out.

I giggle softly, “no, Stan doesn’t mind me trying to get to know the two of you. Just, no questions about where I came from or about the portal, okay?”

“Ah, come on, just one question each, please?” Mabel begged.

“I’m sorry, but I’d rather not talk about what I’ve seen or been through. Not to mention, Stan and Ford both think it’s best you two stay away from that subject.”

“One question each, and then no more after that, please Y/n?” Mabel begged harder, flashing the biggest puppy dog eyes I’ve ever seen.

I sigh and give in, “okay, okay. One question each, but if I think it is too personal, I have the right to refuse to answer it.”

“Deal!” Dipper and Mabel exclaim enthusiastically.

“I’ll go first, how do you know Stan?” Mabel blurted out.

“Stan and I were friends at one point,” I see Mabel go to say something, but I stop her, “no Mabel, you cannot follow up with a question. The truth I’m sure will be revealed in due time.”

“Okay, can I ask how you knew I was going to ask that?” Mabel questioned.

“That’s an appropriate question and allows you to get to know me, so yes, that’s okay. I am a very perceptive person, I can read a person by just looking into their eyes.”

“That’s so awesome!”

“Okay, Dipper, which one of your billion questions are you gonna ask me? I can tell you’re the curious one.”

Dipper smiles and flips through his notepad, “where were you before you came out of that portal?”

I had to think about how to answer that without revealing too much. Luckily it was a fairly broad question, so I felt like I could answer this without revealing too much about myself, “I was in a place that I wish no one else to see, not even my mortal enemies.”

“Yeesh, that sounds horrible. You seem so…optimistic, how did you maintain that?”

“Is that too much of a revealing question!?” Mabel yelled as I went to answer.

“No, again it helps you two better understand who I am and how I function in difficult situations. Well, to be straight to the point and sort of sappy, the thought of returning home kept me optimistic. I’ve always been that way I guess, so maintaining that mindset was fairly easy considering the strain I was under.”

The kids continued to go back and forth on questions to get to know me as a person, the person I was before I went into the portal. The person I hoped was still in there somehow. In turn, they told me more about themselves, and I felt like I was really starting to bond with them.

“So, did you go to college?”

I shake my head, “as egotistical as it sounds, I felt like I was too good for college, like there was nothing it was going to teach me that I didn’t already know, you know? So, rather than spending thousands of dollars on education I felt was futile, I spent time doing what I loved, and looking for grants in other ways.”

“That’s possible?” Dipper questined, intrigued.

“Uh…sure. I definitely think you should pursue higher education. Don’t end up like me.”

Mabel went to ask another question when someone behind us cleared their throat. I turned to see who it was. Ford stood there and gestured for me to come with him. I nodded and stood up, “sorry kids, we can finish this later. It’s been really good talking to you two.”

The kids waved as Ford and I walked back into the gift shop and down to the basement. He didn’t say anything the entire walk down, and I was getting concerned. “Did I say something too revealing to the kids?”

Ford shakes his head, “no, I know you would try to protect them as much as Stan or I would. No, this is something much more serious. I found this while dismantling the portal.” Ford shows me a base and globe containing colorful glowing matter.

“I-is that what I think it is?”

Ford nods, “an interdimensional rift. I contained it, but I’m afraid that Bill may know about this…and will do anything to get his hands on it. I think this may also be the cause of your vivid dreams.”

My eyes widened, “you think that Bill might be heightening my connection to him and tormenting me into possibly making a deal so he can possess me to break the rift?”

Ford chuckles lightly, “it’s like you took the words right out of my mouth. I always forget how perceptive you are. Unfortunately, because of the connection Bill has with you already, encrypting your thoughts is going to be a difficult task to undertake.”

I take a deep breath, “I want to erase my memories then.”

[pillow-anime-talk]

where you go, i go.

request: i saw write for kagaya and as a simp for him, thank you! if i may, request a scenario where before the confrontation with muzan, kagaya had begged for reader to not be there with him but reader refuses. she takes a hold of his hand, bring his knuckles to her lips, pressing a gentle kiss on his hand. gently but firmly stating that he’s her companion in life. the love of her life. she will not leave him alone. she will stay right by his side no matter what may come to pass. [i had gotten the idea from the quote “we have lived together for many years. where you go, i go” of ida straus to her husband isidor straus. i think that this would suit the relationship] 

# tags: scenario; current marriage relationship; soft romance; drama; mostly angst; mention of death and crying; kagaya and reader have children; sfw?

includes: female reader ft. kagaya ubuyashiki {kny}

author’s note: it was a beautiful request and i’m sorry you waited so long for it! love u, anonnie ♥

These were hard months for people, for whole Demon Slayer Corps, and most of all for you and your loved one, who buried many of his combatants, many of his ‘children’. Both you and your husband knew that it was a matter of several hours before Muzan would reach your current place of residence and start wreaking havoc and murder innocent people, destroy crops and houses, and kill animals grazing in meadows or resting in stables and cowsheds. The Demon King wanted to catch both your partner and Tanjirou’s little demon sister, and you had to be prepared for that; both mentally and physically.

Your husband begged you to take your children and hide in a safe place for you (preferably underground with a supply of food and water), to run as far away as possible from the King walking towards you and forget about what has been going on for the last few months (e.g. to find someone better, someone with whom your future will be bright and peaceful). But you were stubborn, Kagaya knew it very well.

“...I’m begging you, Y/N. Just go away and live safely without me.” The blind man turned his head in your direction and you just frowned. The chirping of the last birds reached your ears, and you muttered something unintelligible under your breath.

“... Why would I leave a person who is my whole world?” You asked rhetorically and the man only sighed in response. You were really stubborn and stuck to your point. “We have lived together for many years, Kagaya. Where you go, I go. Do you remember? We promised that to each other on our wedding day.” You smiled softly, and the twenty-three-year-old seemed to sense your changing facial expressions. His heart, though it shouldn’t have, was beating faster.

“Yes, I know, my dear. But I don’t want anything bad to happen to you and kids, you need to understand that, Y/N.” He said, listening to the wind and the sound of flowing water from the tiny stream in front of your property. The rustle of leaves and bushes was also pleasant to the ear.

You moved closer to your husband and then took both of his hands in a strong grip. Kagaya obviously appreciated the gesture, and the moment you lifted his hands to your own warm lips and placed a tender kiss on both of his hands, he understood that you would not leave him, even if you go to certain deaths. It wasn’t your style, it wasn’t in your genes.

“So let’s get through this together.” He said in a low voice so as not to wake your sleeping children at home. You nodded your head, thanking him for his understanding.

“...Let us also die together.” You replied with a confident face and then hugged the man, inhaling his characteristic, pleasant smell reminiscent of old pine and fresh peonies. “Where you are, there I am.” You said, closing your eyes, dreaming of life and a world where there are no demons, death and war. About such a life where there are only you two, your offspring, laughter and love. 

It was a beautiful vision.

[icequeenbae]

Hii! This is a more slow burn request so I’m sorry if it’s a little difficult, but could I request Heartsteel Ezreal x reader who’s knowledgeable and quite sarcastic and quick witted with their replies? I just wonder how their meeting would go with the whole Black cat, golden retriever vibe!

And maybe the reader sometimes suffers from low self-esteem and burnout.

Pairing: Heartsteel!Ezreal x Reader ft. all members

Heartsteel AU, attempted humor, fluff

Warnings: grumpymanager!Reader, Kayn is annoying as fuck… language? lol

Word Count: ~1.4k

© Please do not copy/ post on other platforms without permission.

Author’s Note: Hiii~ Thank you for the Ezreal request, sweetie! I do have my favorites in Heartsteel to write for, and he is definitely at the top of that list <3 Not sure if this is exactly what you wanted, but let’s give it a try! As usual, let me know via comments/ asks/ reblogs, I try stay on it~ P.S. The stuff I post for requests is usually not beta’ed, so pls bear with me…

You rubbed your tired eyes and cursed, checking if your fingers had any mascara on them. There was an issue to resolve, and you had hoped to finish up before the Heartsteel members returned to the waiting room after their rehearsal. But your plan failed miserably.

‘Our dearest manager!’ Kayn appeared next to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. ‘Always working, what a busy little bee!’

You raised your eyebrow at him and stayed silent until he cleared his throat and retracted his arm, while the rest of the members scattered around the room, minding their own business.

‘Someone has to work around here,’ you replied, typing away on your laptop.

‘You should take a break and go grab something to eat at least,’ Yone suggested.

His amiable comment made you release a desperate sigh.

‘They messed up the mic backup, Yone. Not to mention that we have the music video budget due tomorrow and someone screwed up the calculations. I cannot let you film without the drones or the special effects crew. If you do everything yourselves, you’ll be dead before you go on stage again, and I will be ripped into a million tiny pieces by the company or your fans. And I don’t know which one’s worse…’

‘If that’s Sett’s fans you’ll live. They all twinky as shit, look at Phel.’ Kayn cackled, and Yone glared at him.

Sett and Aphelios exchanged looks, probably deciding to give their most annoying member a proper thrashing another time just for the sake of your emotional wellbeing. At least someone understood how dire the situation was.

‘How can I help?’ The producer asked.

Although you appreciated the offer, you knew that they had to perform tomorrow, so Yone would have to supervise the last of preparations starting early morning. You could not allow him to spend the night helping you and then go straight into tomorrow’s work. The price of a screwup was too high on this one.

‘You can help by taking them out for dinner and making sure they’re tucked in later. I don’t want anyone out wreaking any havoc while I’m not around to settle everything.’

‘That I can arrange.’ Yone nodded, giving the rest of the members a solid onceover. ‘You heard Y/N, boys. No fun for you tonight, we have a very long day tomorrow.’

‘Ugh. Buzzkill…’ Sett sighed, and Phel pinched him on the arm, hard. ‘Ow!!’

‘I think we can live with one night in, guys,’ Ezreal interjected. ‘We’re so tired anyway.’

‘Speak for yourself, young man. I am full of energy!’ K’Sante retorted.

What a traitorous blow! You’d expect it from anyone but him.

Noticing your flabbergasted expression, K’Sante quickly continued.

‘…which I can spend by working some iron in the gym before bed time.’

You shook your head, trying to focus on your spreadsheet again. It was a little- no, it was extremely overwhelming, trying to fix several urgent issues at once, while running on a couple hours of sleep, half a sandwich (had to donate the rest to Sett – he’s still growing, after all… or so he thinks) and way too much coffee.

‘Are you going to stay here though?’ Ezreal asked, sounding too quiet for his usual bubbly self.

You assumed he was afraid to get the short end of the stick and make you explode with his question. But you were too tired to even yell at any of them.

‘Not that I have any choice,’ you answered dryly. ‘Not everyone can teleport, Ezzie.’

He pursed his lips, probably realizing that it was best to leave you alone before you gave him the same glare that Kayn had earned earlier. Unlike the demonic bastard, Ezreal was among the members who preferred to stay away from you when you were fuming, as opposed to irritating you further to poke some fun. Yone had already spent a week negotiating for you to take back your resignation once, so they were on their best behavior ever since. Well, the best they could muster, which wasn’t that great but in the grand scheme of things… you’d take what you could get.

After they all vacated the premises, you finally managed to send the updated budget numbers for approval, and made a few calls about the mic replacement. It was unbelievable, but you really had to find someone to get the necessary equipment and fly in to bring it on time. So you stayed at the venue to be able to check whether everything worked fine right away.

But later that night, a mystery visitor woke you up while scooping you off the chair to get you onto the sofa.

‘Mhm- what… Who’s here??’ You jerked up from your uncomfortable sleeping position, accidentally hitting someone in the face with your head.

‘Ow!’ You heard someone squeak and turned around, finding Ezreal in pain, holding his hand to his nose.

‘What on Earth brings you here??’ You instinctively pinched the bridge of his nose as if that would help with the pain. ‘Wait, what time is it? Where is my phone??’

‘I took it,’ he said, wiping under his nose to check for blood.

Thankfully, there was none, and he was okay. Your nervous system, however, was not as lucky.

‘What do you mean, you took it??’ You frantically checked the time on your laptop. ‘3:23? I was supposed to meet someone an hour ago! Why didn’t you wake me up?!’

You grabbed your phone from blabbering Ezreal, but he clung to you like a koala.

‘Y/N, I-’

‘I know. You didn’t think properly, and now I will have to find a way to get that guy to come back if he isn’t sleeping in his hotel already… Shit, Ezzie, you fucked up! No, I fucked up. How could I have fallen asleep?? Stupid, stupid, stupid!’ You knocked on your own head with your knuckles to make a point, and Ezreal caught you by the wrist with his two hands, looking as if you had hit him and not yourself.

‘Y/N, I already met with him and took the mics. We ran a test downstairs with some of the overnight technicians. Everything is set up and working fine.’

You blinked at him a few times, still confused.

‘Uh- You… did?’

‘Yes. I came back earlier and you were asleep. Then someone called you, so I figured- And then I went down and checked everything,’ he delivered anxiously. ‘I also brought you a sandwich- but I didn’t want to wake you, so…’

He grabbed a paper bag from the sofa and shoved it into your hands. You looked at it, and then back at Ezreal, your sleepy and stressed-out brain still catching up with everything.

‘Um- so you brought me… a sandwich?’ You asked.

‘Yes,’ he nodded, strangely bashful. ‘And a juice box.’

His cheeks became rosy, and you couldn’t help but burst out laughing. Ezreal looked like a stray puppy, unsure about whether it was safe to express his affection.

As your laughter settled, you finally exhaled. Everything was okay, thanks to your unexpected little helper for tonight. And now that he’d mentioned the food…

‘I hope you got me an extra-large one.’ You hummed, sitting your butt down.

‘I got two,’ he beamed. ‘And a chocolate bar.’

‘Good. You look like you could have some chocolate right about now.’

And of course, after such an eventful night, as well as the previous few days, having a full belly made you dozy again. Although you did notice Ezreal’s head slowly tilting towards your shoulder through the layer of drowsiness, you didn’t catch your own head leaning onto his.

Due to your carelessness, you were in for a rude awakening in just a few hours.

‘Now, isn’t that adorable?’ Even from the depths of hell you would have heard Kayn exclaim in the most obnoxious voice possible.

‘I’m taking a picture. For the family album!’ K’Sante announced, quick to utilize the camera on his phone.

‘Or future blackmail…’ Kayn sneered evilly.

‘Maybe I should post that picture of you stuck in the vault with your pants down, Shieda Kayn.’ You mused out loud, eyes still shut.

There were a few sounds resembling muffled cursing, and then Kayn walked it back.

‘Hey man, we shouldn’t take pictures of people sleeping. It’s illegal or some shit. Let’s just go check on the preparations, come on.’

And so, they went back to where they came from. ‘Manager…’ You heard Ezreal whisper, head still laying on your shoulder. ‘You’re amazing.’

Non-EXO masterlist

Masterlist

A/N: Thank you for reading and happy holidays my sweethearts!! I have just a couple more requests to go~ I don't think I will take more for the time being but I might come up with another requests event for 900 or 1000 milestone! Please don't forget to comment and reblog if you want to support me 💜 And check out my masterlist for more of my HEARTSTEEL and kpop content 💕

[lisalamona]

𝐀𝐌𝐁𝐈𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 - V

Chapter V: Warrior Of The Mind

. Summary: Despite your brother's insistence, you stubbornly decided to join him and his men in the war. Now, are you prepared to face the consequences of your actions? . Pairing: Various x Fem! Reader (platonic) . Warnings: graphic depictions of violence, death, trauma, and other sensitive content. . Notes: I'm starting to upload this story here on tumblr, I am really sorry for clogging the tags.

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Masterlist

The buzz of the town was impossible to ignore. Voices swelled and clashed, rising higher and higher until they formed a chaotic symphony of excitement and unease. Conversations overlapped, each one trying to be heard over the next. The streets were alive with movement, a current of people flowing together toward what seemed like a singular destination, their footsteps quick and purposeful, filled with excitement and curiosity.

You, Polites, and Odysseus had just wrapped up your morning training and were wandering through the marketplace. The lively stalls were bursting with bright produce, fragrant herbs, and the scent of fresh bread wafting through the air. Your stomach growled faintly, and the sight of a vendor warming something delicious up over an open flame made Polites steer you all toward the stall.

While Odysseus lingered behind, his sharp eyes darting between the flurry of townsfolk, you leaned against the stall's counter, swapping bits of gossip with Polites. He chimed in with his own comments where he saw fit.

"—they want her to marry the shepherd's son," you said, the words heavy with disbelief. Polites shook his head, dropping a few coins into the vendor's waiting hand.

"Wasn't she in love with Damianos?" he asked, his tone tinged with quiet sorrow for the girl whose future had already been decided.

"I know! That's what makes it so heartbreaking!" you replied, your voice rising slightly with the injustice of it all.

Odysseus stood nearby, silent but attentive. As your conversation continued, his sharp eyes began to roam, scanning the market and the shifting crowd. His brow furrowed, the chatter of distant voices pulling his attention away from your words.

His gaze lingered on a growing crowd in the distance—close enough to see, though their voices were faint. Tilting his head, he strained to catch fragments of their murmurs.

At last, curiosity overtook him. "What is going on over there?" he asked, his voice cutting through your exchange like a blade. He turned to the vendor, who paused mid-motion to follow his line of sight. You and Polites, now drawn from your exchange, also turned to look where he was pointing.

"They say a wild boar is wreaking havoc near the edge of the forest, my prince. They've been trying to subdue it for hours," the vendor said, resuming the task of handing you three your food.

"Oh! We have to go see it!" you exclaimed, your voice brimming with excitement as you grabbed your brother's arm, shaking it with a childlike insistence. A small smile tugged at his lips, as though you'd just voiced the very thought he was entertaining.

Without a word, he took your hand, threading his fingers securely through yours to keep you close. The bustling crowd surged like a tide around you, but your brother carved a path through the chaos, guiding you toward the commotion.

Polites trailed not far behind, attempting to wedge himself into your other side—though he struggled to match the brisk pace you and your brother had set. "I—I don't think this is a good idea," he stammered, his breath hitching as he tried to keep up. "The poor creature is probably terrified."

You arrived at the gathering, where a crowd had formed in the open space between the edge of the forest and the boundary of the kingdom. They stood in a loose semicircle, their faces alive with anticipation. Some cheered, their voices rising like a victorious chorus, while others whispered in hushed tones, their words just out of your reach. Yet, what commanded your attention most was not the crowd but the boar. Its cries pierced the air, a sound unlike anything you had ever heard—raw, primal, and haunting. Overlaying this were the shouts of a few men, barking frantic directions to one another as they struggled to take the beast down.

Odysseus guided you and Polites toward the front of the crowd, weaving through the tightly packed throng of onlookers. He pushed forward with determined ease, clearing a path so you could all get a better view. Once at the front, you caught sight of the chaos just as one of the men was hurled to the ground by the boar. At this point, you weren't even sure if it was truly a boar, as the vendor had claimed. It looked nothing like the creatures you and your brother used to hunt with your grandfather—not that they ever let you get close enough to truly study them, but still.

The men struggled desperately against the boar, their movements a chaotic dance of fear and determination. One lunged with a spear, only to have it batted away by the beast's gnarled tusks. Another tried to flank it, his shouts drowned out by the boar's enraged snorts, but he was quickly forced back, tripping over himself as the creature charged. Their efforts seemed disorganized, and the boar, wild and untamed, appeared to grow more furious with each failed attempt to subdue it.

As you focused on the scene, you noticed Odysseus looking off into the distance, his expression thoughtful and almost puzzled. Following his gaze, you saw what had caught his attention—an owl perched silently on a branch. It was an odd sight; owls weren't common in Ithaca, much less during the day. Before you could speak, the bird spread its wings and took flight, disappearing into the bright sky.

You nudged Odysseus, pulling him from his reverie. "What are you staring at?" you asked, your voice cutting through the din of the crowd.

He blinked and shook his head, as though shaking off a strange thought. "Nothing," he muttered, his tone distracted.

Curious, you turned back toward the tree just in time to catch a glimpse of the owl's shadow retreating into the horizon. "You're weird," you teased with a playful smirk, your words colored with the casual sharpness of sibling banter.

Odysseus rolled his eyes but said nothing, his focus already returning to the fray before you.

The three of you lingered, watching the scene unfold as the men continued their struggle. Each attempt to tame the boar ended in failure, their exhaustion evident in their staggered movements and labored breaths. The beast was relentless, its every charge scattering the men like leaves in the wind.

Odysseus's brow furrowed in thought, and you recognized the gleam in his eyes—a spark of determination you'd seen countless times before.

"Oh, he's going to do it," you leaned close to Polites, your voice low as you whispered into his ear.

"Do what?" he asked, his brow furrowing as he tried to follow your gaze.

"Something stupid," you replied, your tone laced with dry amusement. "That's his 'something stupid' face."

Without a word, he stepped forward, weaving through the edge of the crowd until he reached one of the men standing off to the side. This man looked weary, his shoulders slumped, his face streaked with dirt and sweat. A few weapons lay discarded at his feet, a sign of desperate measures tried and failed.

"Excuse me," Odysseus said, his voice steady but tinged with urgency. "I have an idea. Do you mind if I try something?"

The man looked at him, his gaze a mixture of skepticism and fatigue. He sighed heavily, running a hand over his face before nodding. "Sure, kid. Be careful," he replied, his voice rough but not unkind. He stepped aside, motioning toward the weapons.

Odysseus flashed a quick, reassuring grin and picked up a spear, its shaft worn but sturdy. You exchanged a glance with Polites, both of you silently wondering what, exactly, your brother had in mind.

Odysseus beckoned Polites to his side, his voice low but firm. "I'll need your help for this," he said, his confidence unwavering. Polites nodded, stepping forward without hesitation, though you could see the flicker of nerves in his eyes.

The weary man called out to the others, his voice cutting through the noise. "Hey! Over here! The kid's got a plan!"

The men turned, their faces a patchwork of exhaustion and skepticism. They exchanged incredulous glances, some muttering under their breath. To them, Odysseus was just a boy—a bold one, perhaps, but still a boy. What could he possibly do that they hadn't already tried?

You followed close behind, eager to see what your brother had in mind, your heart pounding with both curiosity and concern. But before you could step any closer, Odysseus turned to you, his expression serious. "Stay back," he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

"But I can help!" you protested, the words tumbling out before you could stop them.

He shook his head, his resolve unyielding. "No. It's too dangerous."

Frustration bubbled up inside you, threatening to spill over. Before you could protest again, Odysseus's gaze shifted past you, his expression firm and commanding. "Look after her. Don't let her get near," he said, addressing a boy around his age who stood nearby.

The boy blinked, momentarily taken aback by the sudden order, but he straightened quickly and nodded. "Yes," he replied, his tone hesitant but obedient.

You shot him a glare, your annoyance directed as much at Odysseus as at this newfound guard. "I don't need looking after," you muttered under your breath, crossing your arms in defiance.

The boy, clearly uncomfortable, avoided your gaze but stepped closer, his presence a quiet reminder of Odysseus's command. You bit back another retort, resigned to watching from the sidelines as your brother and Polites prepared to act.

Sensing your tension, the boy hesitated for a moment before attempting to make conversation. "Hello, I'm Eurylochus," he said, his tone cautious but friendly.

"Uh huh," you replied absentmindedly, barely glancing at him. Your focus remained fixed on the back of your brother's head, as if staring hard enough might make him change his mind.

Eurylochus shifted awkwardly, clearly uncomfortable with your lack of interest. Picking up on his unease, you sighed and softened your tone. "I'm sorry. I'm [Name]. It's just... my brother drives me crazy sometimes."

"I'm sure he does it because he cares about you," Eurylochus offered, though his words felt more like an attempt to fill the silence than genuine reassurance.

"I know," you admitted, your frustration slipping into your voice. "But he keeps acting like I'm made of glass, like I'm going to shatter if something goes slightly wrong."

Eurylochus glanced at you, his expression earnest but a little awkward. "Well... you look strong," he said, the compliment tumbling out clumsily.

You blinked, caught off guard by his words, then chuckled softly. "Thank you? So do you," you said, reaching out to pat his arm in a gesture of affirmation.

For the first time, a faint smile crossed his face, and the tension between you eased just a little.

──────🗡️──────

Odysseus crouched down, tracing the end of the spear in the dirt as he quickly outlined his plan to the men. They listened with skeptical eyes, but his confidence and precision seemed to sway them. The goal was simple but dangerous: corner the boar into a spot where it could be struck without risking any injuries to any of them.

The group spread out, encircling the boar cautiously. Polites, holding a shield and spear, was positioned as bait to distract the beast. Odysseus and a few others crept into strategic positions, their weapons at the ready. You watched from the edge of the crowd, heart pounding, as the plan began to unfold.

Polites took a shaky step forward, banging his spear against the shield to draw the boar's attention. The beast's ears twitched, and it let out an earsplitting snarl before charging toward him. Polites stood frozen, the shield trembling in his grip as the boar bore down on him with terrifying speed.

"Polites, move!" Odysseus shouted, but his friend was paralyzed with fear.

Eurylochus, standing next to you, didn't hesitate. He sprinted toward Polites, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him out of the boar's path just in time. The boar's tusks grazed the edge of Polites's shield as the two boys tumbled to the side, the impact leaving a gouge in the dirt where he had stood moments before.

'Oh, so he gets to join?!' you thought, utterly dumbfounded.

With the boar momentarily distracted, Odysseus seized his chance. He lunged forward, spear in hand, aiming for the beast's exposed side. The spear found its mark, sinking deep into the boar's flank. The creature let out a guttural scream, thrashing wildly as it tried to shake off the pain.

But it wasn't over. In its frenzy, the boar twisted and lashed out with its tusks, catching Odysseus across the thigh as he stepped back. He stumbled, blood staining his tunic as the gash began to bloom crimson.

Gritting his teeth, Odysseus steadied himself, gripping the spear tighter. With one final, precise thrust, he drove the weapon deeper, ending the boar's fight. The creature collapsed with a heavy thud, its labored breathing fading into silence.

The crowd erupted into cheers, but you barely heard them. Your eyes were fixed on Odysseus as he pressed a hand to his wounded leg, trying to stem the bleeding. Eurylochus and Polites ran to his side, the latter pale and shaken but alive.

"You did it," Polites said, his voice a mix of awe and guilt.

Odysseus offered a faint grin, though his face was pale with pain. "We did it," he corrected, his gaze sweeping over the group. But as the adrenaline faded, he winced, leaning heavily on Eurylochus for support.

You surged forward, no longer willing to stay on the sidelines. "Let me see that," you said, kneeling to inspect his wound despite his protests. "We need to get you to a medic."

──────🗡️──────

Once your brother's wound had been cleaned and stitched, your group began the walk back to the palace. The atmosphere was lighter now, the earlier tension melting away into teasing and banter.

"I can't believe you actually listened to me this time," Odysseus said, his tone playful and tinged with surprise.

"I can't believe you were stupid enough to do what you did, but here we are," you shot back, your voice dripping with mock exasperation.

"Aww, come on!" he said, grinning as he lunged to pull you into a hug.

"Ew, no! You're all sweaty and bloody!" you protested, trying to dodge his outstretched arms. But it was no use; he managed to trap you, his embrace sticky and suffused with the smell of sweat and iron.

"Ugh, Odysseus!" you cried, squirming in his grasp, the cold, clammy feel of his skin making you want to gag. Your futile attempts to push him off only made him tighten his hold, laughing as he did so.

"Polites, help me!" you pleaded, casting an imploring look at your friend.

"Why?" Polites replied, smirking. "This is adorable."

"It's gross!"

"Alright, alright," Odysseus said, finally releasing you. But before he let you go completely, he gave your hair a rough ruffle, leaving it thoroughly disheveled.

As you resumed your journey to the palace, you noticed the boy from earlier, Eurylochus, walking in the opposite direction. Without thinking, you called out to him. "Hey! Come with us!"

He stopped, looking a little startled. "Oh, I wouldn't want to intrude—"

"Nonsense!" Odysseus interjected, his grin infectious. "You saved our friend! The least we can do is invite you to come with us."

Eurylochus hesitated for a moment before offering a small smile and falling into step beside you.

Polites sidled up to you, nudging your shoulder and wiggling his eyebrows in a way that made you frown. "What?"

"Nothing," he replied, the smirk on his face betraying him.

You rolled your eyes but said nothing, and the four of you continued toward the palace, the day alive with the soft hum of camaraderie.

[wei-smiler]

I'm trying to create my OC, and this is an introduction about her

My English is not very good, so there may be some translation mistakes.:¯ᯅ¯:

Shiro is the 11th mask hidden away. Unlike the other generals, Shiro was not one of the oni during Taratudo's rule in Japan. She is approximately over 600 years old. In her self-narrated origins, 200 years after the end of Taratudo 's rule in Japan, as a princess of the emperor, she accidentally stumbled upon stories about oni and became intrigued, delving deep into them over time. As time passed, her research into oni became increasingly profound, gradually leading her to obsession. She then used her self-created black magic to transform into an oni, wreaking havoc in Japan for 60 years single-handedly before being subdued by a benevolent wizard into the mask.

Now, by a stroke of luck, she has been discovered and worn by vanish. Vanish wears the mask, her thoughts are controlled by Shiro. As a shrine maiden, Shiro, relying on her acquired witchcraft, releases the shadow generals. However, being a natural witch, Shiro's ability to wield dark powers is somewhat insufficient. She can only manage to create the physical bodies of the generals with great difficulty. Consequently, the generals must rely on themselves to regain their powers. Compared to the Vanish's body, Shiro prefers her own. Therefore, after releasing the shadow generals, she takes back her own body.

Just before being subdued, Shiro was determined never to go solo again if given another chance. So, after possessing Vanish, she immediately rushes to undo Taratudo's seal based on Vanish's memory, marking Shiro and Taratudo's first formal encounter.

"Because I am powerful, it is only natural for many men to pursue me; because I am powerful, only equally powerful people are worthy of me." Shiro holds such a belief. Therefore, in her first encounter with Taratudo, Shiro mistakenly believes that Taratudo would definitely become one of her many suitors.

It's worth noting that the stone slab in the Temple of the ShenDu that records the history of oni is actually a ceiling mural in the shrine built by Shiro for the oni. Shiro visits her family home and exclaims: "Haven't seen each other for centuries, and my family hall has turned into an open-air one!"

Also, because Shiro has delved deep into the history of oni, she knows their habits well. However, the oni know nothing about Shiro.

Moreover, Shiro enjoys boldly questioning the oni about the authenticity of some scandalous tales, but most of the questions are too inappropriate. Each time they are questioned, the oni eagerly try to prove their innocence, which Shiro enjoys seeing.

Shiro's third eye is not just for decoration; it can indeed see things. And it doesn't close when she sleeps. So if someone wants to play a prank while she's asleep, getting caught is just a matter of minutes.

Shiro also assimilates despairing humans into her Shadowkhan.

Her lower half is a shadow. It can morph into any shape. For example, she morphs her lower half into the shape of a horse. When Ikazuki sees this, he instinctively pulls out a saddle and prepares to jump on.

[ficthots]

Bonded: Chapter Six

A/N: Hello everyone! My absence has ended and I am back writing once more. I've missed you all and I hope this makes up for it. Please remember, this is a hobby and sometimes life overtakes hobby time. Luckily, things have seemed to even out for the time being. As always, enjoy and let me know what you think!

Word count: 5.2k+

Chapter Five

Weather holds more power than most people will ever realize. A planet’s atmosphere has wondrous effects on the life below which is why with each planet you travel to, you will experience a climate you never have before. It was one of the first things you noticed on this galaxy trek.

How one day you can look up and see the crystal skies beaming back down at you, offering immaculate views of the horizon far off in the distance. Yet, landing on another planet just the following cycle, storms wreak havoc over the innocent civilians down below unleashing a fury that blows eyes wide open in surprise and fear.

Demolishing anything that stands in its way, altering life as you knew it right before your very eyes. Watching as lives are ruined, some spared, others continue as before with little to no change.

Packing for such weather was difficult to do. Hence why nearly your entire wardrobe had been brought with you on this trip. As your cruiser descended on a tiny spec in the sector, the humidity pummeled you immediately. The condensation formed on the windows as a repulsive greeting and then dripped downwards towards the forever soggy ground.

A small sigh escaped your mouth as you knew how uncomfortable this short day was about to become. This wasn’t even a planet on your list. A courtesy stop if you will. An unplanned detour that you knew would only last the afternoon and early evening before continuing on with your actual planned route.

“I can only imagine what sort of creatures thrive in this type of environment,” Calista murmured with her nose almost pressed flush to the glass. Briefly looking up from your notepad you watched as Tamsyn began preparing for landing.

Only humming in response, there wasn’t much enthusiasm in your reply. You were exhausted. Having been traveling for nearly two entire months, your journey was finally nearing the end. Another week and you would be back home.

Home.

It was odd to think of the ship in that way, but that was what it was. Home. A sense of longing to go back to it, sleep in your bed, see Kylo. You couldn’t believe that you missed him.

Your eyes drifted to the string on your wrist. A gift before your original departure. A safety measure. A token of thought. That you were occupying his thoughts just as much as he was yours. As your thoughts descend into him, the rough landing of the ship jolted you out of your little world.

Tucking the bracelet under your thin gauzy sleeve, you stood as the ships door opened, allowing you to step into the jungle terrain. This was their opportunity to sell themselves to the Order. Explain how they could be of use. With what you could see, it wasn’t much.

Yet as you walked down towards the small gathered crowd to greet you, they were all beaming with enthusiasm to see you, the Empress, actually here visiting. Tamsyn and Calista were hot on your heels, your personal guard so close the armor he adorned nearly pressed into your side.

A precaution courtesy of Kylo and General Waylan. One you didn’t believe was necessary, but your own thoughts fell onto deaf ears. You weren’t even offered his name. No indication about who he really was.

He was just…there. All of the time. A shadow stapled to your own. When you moved, so did he. He was in charge of all the safety measures in regards to this trip. And he was certainly displeased to discover you made a decision to stop on this desolate crater without informing him earlier.

The leader stepped forward enthusiastically, his robes trailing on the moss ridden steps he descended to reach you. “Empress, we are beyond honored to welcome you here. Thank you for taking the time to join us.” As your eyes settled on the thin man, you nearly fell backwards. The striking resemblance had you hesitating to utter your own greeting.

An immediate cold sweat erupted over your body. The man looked eerily similar to the one who had lost his head at the gala. The gruesome memory flashed in your mind as you watched the lifeless eyes stare at you. Courtesy of your husband, but almost as fast as it hit you, the feeling faded. Almost as if he disguised himself when he saw your discomfort with his appearance. Those fully black eyes now had irises, the color still coal, but some ivory peeked out.

Perhaps your mind was playing tricks on you, you thought to yourself.

As he spoke, he clasped your hand within his own and brought it to his grayed forehead. There was something different about them as you took in the odd faces of the civilians. All looked different than each other, but it was as if they weren’t entirely real. A mask over their true selves. You weren’t entirely sure. But your guard was immediately up.

For being in such a bright and warm environment you couldn’t help but fight the chill that shot up your spine from the ice cold grasp he had. Their eyes almost one solid color, bordering on black, but not quite fully gone. They all appeared grey, no hint of color anywhere on their forms. The palace behind them appeared desolate.

The stark green vines enclosed around the sandstone brick that was almost completely gone beneath the never ending greenery. The varying creatures and animals chirped through the forest, cocooning the group in a symphony of songs. Not one of comfort, but one of warning.

A warning you ignored to heed.

Your hackles were raised without so much as a second thought. “It is our pleasure, Monton. I hope you don’t mind the short visit. We don’t have much time together, but I am looking forward to getting to know you and your people more intimately.” His smile stretched across his taut skin, making him appear less human as he did. Your pleasantries second nature to you despite the overwhelming sense of dread filling each of your senses.

A few hours was all you needed to muster through. Then back to the scheduled trip. You echoed that lifeline in your mind over and over to keep your nerves rested.

Stepping to the side, he gestured towards the ancient building. “Shall we?” Nodding in reply, you turned toward your guard. “We won’t be long, if we need assistance I will call.” His helmeted head only bowed before turning on his heel and ascending the stairs back aboard the ship.

You prayed you wouldn’t need his assistance. A few hours.

Tamsyn and Calista trailed behind you, not interested in any of the information this man was offering. Yet, they did not seem the least bit put off by their odd appearances or behaviors. It ran through your mind that you were being overly cautious. His similarities to the man from the gala had knocked you off your game, but no one seemed to pay that any mind.

You were hardly listening either. The entire time he spoke your thoughts were occupied with what rubbed into your wrist. The bracelet so delicately clasped around your skin felt as though it was burning an indentation, leaving its permanent trace behind in its remembrance.

“Your presence has been requested by the Supreme Leader, Empress.” You were sat in your living quarter, the final details of your galaxy journey had been finalized that afternoon and you were beyond spent. Pulling yourself up from the comfortable cushion, you followed the Order official to wherever they were leading you.

When you arrived at a section of the ship you didn’t recognize, you spoke. “Where is the Supreme Leader?” He stopped walking as he approached to extremely large doors that were monitored by three different entry systems. “Supreme Leader Ren's quarters, Empress.” He turned towards you with a subtle bow before turning and leaving you standing alone in the darkened corner.

You could recall the doors from your private tour with Kylo, but you had been brought an entirely different way and didn’t recognize where you were.

Not sure what you were supposed to do, you walked towards the different identification panels and attempted to solve how to enter. You weren’t entirely certain how long you were stood there, but when the door receded into the walls with a loud whoosh accompanying, you jumped up.

There he stood, helmet removed, gaze immediately pinned to you. “What are you doing?” He spoke, not a crack of emotion on his face, voice the standard deep monotone you were accustomed to. “Um, they said you requested me. I couldn’t figure out the door,” you nervously responded.

A slight tilt to the corner of his mouth was all you received as he returned inside. “Come with me.” You followed a few steps behind him. Eyes darting around to the new sights, the smell of him wafting over you entirely. It was incredibly neat, like no one had ever resided there.

The dark furniture was exactly what you expected. Everything drenched in reds and blacks, his signature colors of course. Almost cliche, you giggled to yourself. The sound alerted him, causing him to turn and face you to see what had you laughing. “What?”

Only shrugging you were still smiling. “Nothing. Just that your quarters are exactly what I expected. The blacks and reds, you know?” Your fit of giggles continued as he eyed you, eyes narrowing in your direction, a slight tilt to his head. Faded remnants of a smile graces his plush lips for only a mere second.

His head dropped, a small box sitting on the corner of a table. “Come here.” You immediately followed his orders, walking towards him and closing the distance. Knowing better than to try and battle him, you were nearly flush against him.

Grasping your wrist with his bare hand, electricity jolted through you. You despised when that would happen. Unable to hide the effect his simple touch had on you. This had been happening more and more. The more time you two spent together, which was occurring much more frequently, it only riled you up more.

His touch was incredibly delicate, the long and nimble fingers worked quickly and effortlessly. It was gone as fast as it had appeared. A slight twinge of sadness nestled in your stomach at the loss of contact. Your eyes never left the new addition on your arm.

It was simple, just a black string with a fabric you were not sure of, a small gemstone sitting squarely in the middle. A glow cast out around the unidentified stone, sitting on your skin. Eyes finally peeling away, you cast your gaze upwards to see his features already studying your own.

He never faltered despite the close quarters you two were currently in. “Specially made by request of myself.” Your brow furrowed in question, looking back down at it. “It’s a beautiful bracelet, Kylo. Thank you.” Offering a genuine smile, you felt warm.

Kylo had specifically gotten something made for you. Gifted to you by Kylo himself. You couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit more…special. That he was going out of his way to please you, bring a small sense of joy. Even if it was a stretch to anything more than him trying to appease you.

“This is for…my piece of mind while you’re gone, dove. If you are in danger, I can only use the Force to communicate with you when I feel the need to. I cannot always sense if something is wrong. I’m still attempting to sort out what this bond means and how to use it. For now, this will do.” His hand cupped your wrist once more, his thumb hovering over the gem.

Clearing his throat he continued. “You press this gem down and to the right. It will immediately track your location and notify me that you are not well. Promise me you’ll wear this the entire time you’re gone, dove?” The gentle tone in his voice had butterflies erupting in your stomach as he spoke so plainly with you.

A knot formed in your throat, but you nodded eagerly. “Of course. Thank you for this. So, just down,” he nodded, his hair lightly falling forward at his motion. “Down and to the right.” You smiled at the demonstration and peered back up at him.

Holding eye contact for the following few seconds was the most intense interaction you two had yet. Peering into one another, it was almost like you were able to communicate with him through look alone. A silent heartfelt thank you for caring about my safety. A glimmer of an unknown emotion first registered in his eyes, then his entire face, before fading.

Admiration? Joy? Something you didn’t quite know how to label because, well, it was Kylo. He only ever showed two emotions. Rage and annoyance. Nothing more, nothing less. A side to him that no one else ever got to see. Reserved solely for you. In these private moments.

Pride bubbled in you at the knowledge that no one else in the entire galaxy saw Kylo in states like this. His hardened facade broken. Not without great effort on your end. In fact, it had been painstaking work for months on end.

After Kylo request to attempt a new beginning with you, you decided to agree to his offer. Whatever that meant for him. After the first couple of days and no changes, no sightings of him, you reached out.

An invitation to accompany you at dinner that evening in your quarters. No response had been given and you were quickly losing hope that anything was going to change, an empty guarantee from him. Then, just as the table had finished being set and you were notified that dinner would be served as soon as you were ready, he entered your quarters.

Not able to fight against the smile that took shape on your face, Kylo looked extremely awkward. Unsure what he was supposed to be doing. Yet, attempting to make the effort. Even though it was almost pitiful to see his obvious discomfort.

Deciding to take the lead for the night, you welcomed him in. You weren’t quite sure of yourself enough to try anything physical like a hug, but you lead him into the dining room. Sitting at opposite ends of the table, you mainly ate in silence.

But he was there and that was a victory all in itself.

You didn’t ask him back the following evening, but he came back anyways. And nearly every night since then. Unless he was gone on a mission, it was almost a grantee that Kylo would be at your dining room table, enjoying a dinner with you.

As these meals happened more frequently so did the conversation. At first, extremely basic and generic, testing the waters to see how well you two could communicate. It didn’t take much time for you to warm up to him enough that you were constantly sharing stories of your childhood, upbringing as a royal, funny experiences you had since joining the Order as their Empress.

Kylo pitched in with conversation despite choosing to let you fill the void of his lack of words a majority of the time. Even cracking smiles, his eyes and features more life like and softened with happiness. You know you had made great progress when you got a laugh out of him for the very first time.

It had been like striking gold. A melody of tone you had never heard and weren’t sure you would ever again. Such a beautiful sound you never wanted to forget it, never wanted it to end.

The following night he had arrived at your quarters for dinner, you eyed the table set up. Grabbing your plates and utensils, you ushered yourself down to his end of the table, sitting on his left side just like at the meeting tables. His eyes watched your movements daringly, unsure of what exactly you were doing.

But when you seated yourself and gave him a large smile, he felt an almost sense of…relief. Having you choose to be so close to him. Something no one had ever done. Dinner carried on like nothing had changed.

The new behaviors of the infamous Kylo Ren had started to bleed out into other aspects of your relationship as well, including professional. One afternoon, you two walked the corridors of the ship together, chatting about your upcoming travel plans, when his hand landed on your hip, pulling you away from a wall of storm troopers rounding the same corner. His hand firmly pulled you into his side, his helmeted demeanor seething at the group. “Watch your movements.”

Instant apologies to Kylo and you were spoken. Your heart rate never went back to normal after that. At one supper, Kylo had asked you if you had ever flown a ship. He was instantly taken aback at your response of no. “When I return from this mission I will be teaching you how to pilot a ship.” You were giddy for his return, counting down the cycles until we was due back home. Unable to contain your excitement when Kylo had entered your quarters for dinner, you crossed the room and embraced him. A warm smile greeted him in accompaniment despite his entire body stiffening the way it did.

It didn’t phase you in the least. Speaking about how you had missed his presence at dinner. His cheeks warmed to a pink hue at the terms of endearment. He spoke, clearing the waver in his voice as he did. “I’m taking you flying tomorrow.”

The following day had been the best you two had ever spent together. That morning, Kylo appeared at your door and you followed him. What was supposed to be just a flying lesson turned into an entire formal tour of his section of the ship. He showed you where his training facilities were, where the Knights of Ren were located, the entry to his residence. You didn’t enter, but at least you now knew where he was located at.

The tour wrapped at the massive bay of ships in the hanger. You were nearly jumping for joy when you knew what was next. Wandering eyes monitored the two of you as Kylo led you towards the ships. A duo that was unanticipated. The Kylo Ren watching as the Empress of the First Order looked like an excited school girl.

You truly didn’t care. As you approached one of the ships on the fleet, you turned and beamed at Kylo. “This one, right?” He shook his head, motioning for you to follow him. Stopping in your tracks, your jaw hung ajar.

“You’re going to let me fly your ship?” The smirk that danced across his mouth had your heart doing somersaults. A squeal escaped your lips, rushing towards the tall man and crushing him to you in a hug. Your arms wrapped around his neck, feeling the soft locks of his raven black hair tickle you, your cheek pressed against his neck. It ended as quickly as it had happened. You didn’t look at his reaction before quickly climbing aboard the Supreme Leaders personal ship.

With only one seat in the cockpit, you weren’t sure how this was going to work for you to learn. Kylo followed you in and within a minute was situated in the pilots seat securely. Standing off to the side, you were about to ask where you were supposed to sit when his arm wrapped around your waist.

Grabbing you from behind, he dragged you effortlessly to his lap. You were in a fit of giggles at the fast motion. Adjusting yourself to sit comfortably for however long you two were about to fly, you were ecstatic to get on with your lesson.

Both of Kylo's arms came from the sides, caging you in as he grasped the controls and swiftly left the hangar. Despite thinking you were going to be taking up too much of his space and view, he flew the ship like it was nothing.

He was silent behind you despite your constant chatter and observations of the planets that flew by. As you two settled on a desolate planet, you were ready to begin. His warm breath fanned across your cheek and neck as he spoke, goosebumps erupting over your entire body.

Fighting the chill that shot up your spine, the slight tremble in your hands you were able to play off. “I’m nervous,” you chuckled, rubbing your hands across your pants. “It’s simple. Here,” he lifted your hands to grab the controls, his sitting over your own.

Given the nature of his sheer size in comparison to your own, you could hardly see your own flesh beneath his own. “Alright dove, you always want to make sure that these lights are on,” Kylo fell into his detailed explanation of the control panel and what each thing meant.

You weren’t sure you could place the exact moment he called you dove for the first time, the term of endearment awarded to you by friends and family, but it was almost second nature to him now. Mainly using it instead of your name or your titles.

It sounded different coming from him. Felt different. Like you only wanted him to use it. Holding a different meaning than everyone elses uses. You adored it. Waited for it to fall from his lips with baited breath each time. Knocking the wind out of you with each muttered dove.

It was safe to say that the flying lesson had not gone well. Apparently it was more of a natural talent activity than you realized. After nearly driving it straight into the ground, you erupted in laughter.

Kylo held onto the controls as you lost control of your laughter. He chuckled smally to himself. “Alright, we’re done for today. I don’t need you destroying the best ship in the fleet.” As your chuckles faded, still seated firmly in his lap, you smiled widely at him.

“Thank you for today. It was a lot of fun,” without so much as a second thought, you leaned in, hand cupping his jaw and turning his head towards you. It nearly happened in slow motion, that first kiss. Feeling the soft, tender flesh of his lips meld to your own. The shock waves that exploded over your body was unlike anything you had ever experienced. You never wanted to stop. But you did and when you pulled back and opened your eyes, you watched as his grip tightened on the controls, you smiled to yourself.

He cleared his throat, refusing to look at you. “You’re welcome.” Kylo left the next day for a mission that he desperately needed. Some space from you so he could catch his breath, readjust his bearings, figure out what was happening between you two. Why he wanted to be sitting at a dining room table with you instead of making progress that he needed to make.

Why he was dreading your trip. That he wouldn’t be near you for so long, unable to do anything to protect you while you were so far. He had his own copy of your schedule, but that wasn’t enough.

Instead, he assigned one of the highest regarded troopers to be your personal guard through the duration of the trip. One he knew you wouldn’t accept unless it came from someone other than himself. Waylan quickly agreed and you accepted with little word otherwise.

Perhaps he was slightly obsessed. Which is why he constructed the bracelet on his own. Something that would allow him direct access to you should you need him. Not that he wanted to bother you, but he still didn’t know the limit of the bond you two shared. Wanting nothing more than your protection covered while away from him.

Seeing your reaction to it as he placed it on you was a relief. Seeing that you seemed more sure of yourself wearing it. Knowing that you could contact Kylo as quickly as possible. A slight weight off your shoulders.

If only you knew what was in store for you.

The tour had dragged for so long and was so dull, you had sent Tamsyn back to the ship to prepare for your departure. The stories shared with you were sending alarm bells tolling your head. Far too similar to the mans from the gala to be purely coincidental. You knew at that moment why they had wanted you to come here.

When you had returned back to the palace you began to take note of some alarming things. Guards blocking each doorway and nearly every window, being led further and further through the maze of doorways and twisting hallways, the men that were directly behind you and Calista were seemingly moving closer and closer.

You knew something was seriously wrong when you entered what appeared to be a drawing room with no furniture present in it. Offering as polite of a smile and interruption you could, you spoke. “Would you mind allowing myself and my lady speak privately for a moment?”

The king nodded, ushering his men out with him, one last eye locking glance in your direction before shutting a door. You wasted no time, whipping around to face her, fumbling to unclasp the bracelet.

“I need you to listen to me very carefully, Calista. I need you to remember every thing I’m about to tell you.” She looked bewildered as you began to speak quickly. “You are going to leave this room as soon as I am done talking,” as the bracelet fell off, you cupped it. “You are going to board the transport and tell the pilot to not, I repeat, not go to the next destination.”

Calista had no idea what was happening. “What are you talking-” you cut her off. “Calista, please we don’t have a lot of time. They are going to be back any minute. These are the same people from the gala just with some sort of disguise on. They are going to attempt to track the transport which is why you are not to go to the next destination.” Her eyes quickly began welling with tears.

Stuffing the bracelet into her palm, you forcibly closed her hand around it. “You are going to get as far away from here as possible. An unknown world or moon or something, okay? As soon as you get there the Order will have already been notified that we have not arrived at our scheduled destination.”

She sighed, going to speak. “But Kylo-” You shook your head. “They won’t tell Kylo because they know he will not be happy and they will want to solve it themselves. When you get to wherever you go, you will activate this.” Calista opened her hand to look at it.

“Push down and twist to the right. It will immediately send a signal to Kylo with your exact location. He will get there very fast and when he does, he will be furious. Kylo will read your mind after you tell him about the events that have happened. You must tell him this was my plan, do you understand?”

She sniffled as you continued on. “I’ll be fine. I want you all to get to safety.” Calista pulled you into an embrace, whispering in your ear as she did. “I’ll-I’ll tell him everything,” you offered a relaxed smile to try and qualm her nerves. “Kylo will find me. Now, go. You need to go.” Pushing her towards the doors, she glanced once more at you before rushing away.

A shaky exhale escaped your lips, fear pummeling you at what was about to happen. The leader returned mere seconds later, a large inhuman smile on his features. “Ah, where did the beautiful Calista go?”

Smiling politely you spoke. “To ready the ship for us. I want to thank you for your generosity and enthusiasm today, but we do have a schedule to keep to.” As you took a step back, the leader and his men made one towards you.

“So soon, Empress? We were hoping to enjoy supper and share more tales of our people. Our traditions.” Sweat dripped down the back of your neck. “Unfortunately, it was a fast trip. Perhaps next time we can extend it.”

His smile fell immediately. All warmth snapped from him in an instant. “No. I think you don’t understand.” In the blink of an eye, both of your arms were restrained by the guards he had brought back with him.

The king crossed the room leisurely. “You need to let me go. You know they will look for me.” He smirked as he approached you. Twirling a strand of your hair around his straggly finger, he inhaled deeply. “No, I don’t think they will, Empress. None of you will be leaving here today.”

As soon as he finished, the roar of the transports engines flooded the palace. Barking out an order in an unfamiliar tongue, you let a devilish smirk cross your face. A snarl emulated from him as he whipped his hand back before making contact with your cheek, drawing a surprised gasp.

It was just the start.

Nearly two full days later, their transport ship collided with the rocky terrain of whatever desolate planet they had found. Calista activated the gem as soon as they landed and just as you had said, Kylo ship touched down not long after.

The burnt landscape around them displayed his anger that he had unleashed with his saber upon discovering you hadn’t gone with them. Almost the entire area around them had been decimated.

What you didn’t realize was that Kylo had been unable to connect with you. Despite all of his efforts, the moment he had been notified of your missing status, he couldn’t find you. Connect with you. Speak with you.

Perhaps too far from him. Given you weren’t Force sensitive, this was uncharted territory. One he didn’t realize had a location cap. When you had sent him the ping of your location, it was lie salvation had washed over him.

Upon discovering you were not onboard that ship and had sent them off without you, it only ignited his rage. Far beyond the point of anger, he couldn’t believe you had put yourself in this situation. One he didn’t know how to solve. Fix. Get you back to him where you would be safe and protected.

Kylo's robes whipped around him as he turned and stalked towards the group who had watched the entire scene unfold before them. “Notify all of the Order that my Empress has been taken and is missing.”

He climbed back into his ship, beginning the search for you. His Empress. His dove.

[allforone-appreciation]

A Look Into All For One's Daily Routine (PRE-potato)

7:00 AM - Rise and shine, for the world trembles at the mere thought of my awakening. 7:10 AM - Morning cuddles and kisses with my precious wife, Inko and indirectly praising her for surviving another night beside the most feared villain-turned-family-man. 7:45 AM – Wake my baby son up, then have a villainous breakfast, consisting of coffee, eggs, waffles, and a side of intimidation. 8:15 AM - Conduct a nefarious board meeting to discuss evil plans for the day. Check on my ‘side businesses’ and make sure I’m ‘making’ money. 9:00 AM - Meet with underworld contacts. Expand my influence and power. Remind them who’s boss. 10:00 AM - Time for some "me" time. Attend an appointment with my personal tailor to ensure my villainous attire strikes fear into the hearts of heroes. A scheduled manicure is included every Wednesday. 10:45AM - Wreak minor havoc upon the city. A villain's work is never done and sometimes the blond idiot stops by. It's all about balance, you see. 12:00 PM - Lunch break: Consume the souls of those who dare oppose me. Wine and steak are the usual. Depends on my mood. 12:30 PM: While I’m having lunch, I usually log into my social media and contribute to All Might hate pages. The villain subreddit is my go-to. Update my Demon King fanfiction while I’m at it. (This entry is completely satire) 1:00 PM - Plotting session: Strategize with Tomura on how to conquer the world then make Kurogiri do all the work and babysit him. 2:30 PM - Business calls. Time to collect those debts and remind people why they shouldn't cross me. A few well-placed threats should do the trick. 3:00 PM - Pick up some "unfortunate souls" from the streets. Gotta keep the operation running smoothly. While I’m at it, I’ll supervise the training of Tomura and young villains-in-training. 4:30 PM - Time to head home. Can't wait to see Inko and my beloved son, Izu-baby. 6:00 PM - Dinner with the family. Nothing beats Inko's cooking, except maybe her smile. 7:00 PM - Quality time with Izuku: Help him with his homework, impart wisdom about the ways of the world, and play hero-villain with him. 9:00 PM - Bedtime routine and tuck my cute son into bed. Goodnight, little one. Daddy's gonna (hopefully) kill All Might tomorrow. 9:30 PM - Quality time with Inko. Sometimes the best evil plots are hatched ‘between the sheets’. 11:00 PM - Prepare for bed: Ensure all evil plans are in motion for the following day and that my reign of terror will continue unabated. Sometimes a book about totalitarianism and tyranny with a glass a wine is included. 11:30 PM – Time for a goodnight sleep. I need my beauty sleep to maintain this dashing appearance. Tomorrow, the world will tremble at my might once again.

Note: Schedule subject to change depending on hero interference, unforeseen villainous schemes, 'business trips' and holidays/weekends.

Please tell me what you think I had so much fun making this 😂😂😂😂😂 I might make a POST-potato schedule. I love this man so much can you tell.

😂 I'm laughing because honestly this very much seems like his schedule. Doing both evil stuff while also being dad for one at the same time is how he rolls. Like awww he loves his famil- Wait he picking up ORPHANS AND PLANNING PEOPLE DEMISE?

LOL, I need more of a Day in the Life of a Demon Lord. Because this is great also seems Inko gets quite a bit of attention at night. Though we can already see he definitely not going to see All Might coming when he comes with a Detroit smash.

But man I love how casual he is about his appearance and his affection for his family being quite wholesome. While also still doing evil things, you anon get it.