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twizzie-lairs · 7 months

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My Darling, My Honey

Alastor X Fem!Reader (Part 11)

Have a nice big chapter/part for the weekend! :D

Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11

Part 11:

Did.. did Charlie just say... Alastor?

You felt someone poke your face, multiple times, all at once, "Hey, Hey, miss bandage face, you good?"

You blink rapidly, being pulled out of your stupor and laugh awkwardly, "Ah haha, uh yeah. Yup, I'm good... Haha, thanks Angel.."

Angel just squints at you, not convinced of your act at all but just sighs and says, "Alright, whatever you say, weirdo.." and then returns back to chatting with Husk.

Vaggie, who was sitting next to you struck up a conversation, "Are you really sure you're okay to be up and around already? You look like you saw a ghost or something."

You briefly glanced at the radio that was sitting on the mantle on the wall before returning your attention to Vaggie, "Yeah, being up was much better than sitting doing nothing, I thought I was going to waste away if I didn't do something."

Vaggie sighs and nods her head, "I know the feeling."

"And.. I swear I thought I heard Charlie mention the name Al-"

"Alastor! You're back! We have a new guest staying at the hotel! Come say hi!" Charlie shot out of her seat as soon as she saw Alastor's shadows start to manifest, signaling his return.

You felt your blood run cold as your suspicions were confirmed. Yes, she just said Alastor. How common could that name be down here? This is just a coincidence, surely- Of all names!

"My, my dear Charlie, you seem quite excited! I haven't seen you bouncing off the walls like this in ages!" Alastor chuckles as he allows Charlie to practically drag him over by the wrist to the group.

He sounds like a radio host...

Your breath starts to quicken as Charlie guides him over to you, his aura feels so oppressive, unlike any Overlord you had ever met before... But what made your hair really stand on the back of your neck was the static noise that filled the air as he got closer. You felt your eyes shake and your gut sink in your stomach.

What was this feeling?

You gulp and look up, eyes wide, looking like a deer in headlights as you make eye contact with this "Alastor".

"Go on! Introduce yourself!" You felt Charlie nudge you excitedly, in an attempt to nudge you out of your frozen state.

On his face, a large, creepy grin/smile- (if you could even call it that) grew even larger on his face - a feat you didn't even know was possible. You felt like you should be scared but then... It dawned on you.

That feeling in your gut dissipated instantly and it felt like a weight got suddenly lifted off your chest.

This was Alastor. This was your Alastor.

Tears start rolling down your face uncontrollably as your body is racked with sobs.

"Heyyy! Hey! It's okay, (y/n)! I know Al can be a wee bit intimidating sometimes but I promise he's not a bad guy! Well... mostly.. haha..." Charlie trails off with a nervous chuckle as she scrambles around the lobby to find you some tissues to dry your tears.

Upon hearing your name said out loud, a loud record scratch filled the air.

"Haha... ha...Charlie, dearest! My, you'd think the years are catching up to me! Was that some sort of joke? Why, I didn't know you wanted to become a comedian! Did you say.. (y/n)? That must be a mistake. I've only ever known one person by that name and they surely couldn't have ended up in Hell of all places!" Alastor chuckles, the laugh track coming from his staff warping as he hovers over Charlie with an intimidating aura- thinking she was playing some sort of sick joke on him.

Charlie whips around to see Alastor up in her face and then she scrambles back, "Woah! What? Alastor! Gods, no, why would I joke about our new guest? That would go against everything i'm trying to do here!"

Alastor's gaze darts over to you, "You see, I think this '(y/n)' and I need to have a chat..." His eyes narrow as he makes quotation marks with his fingers as he says your name.

He walks towards you and grabs your wrist with force, finger like claws starting to dig into your arm- despite protest from Charlie and Vaggie to let you go- to stop harassing their new guest because you were still quite injured and fragile. Even Angel and Husk got up from their seats at the bar after hearing the commotion in the lounge and started yelling at him to stop hurting you because it was very apparent that you were in pain with how rough he was handling you.

Then, with a snap, he teleports you and himself up to his radio tower- away from all the commotion.

Alastor slams the door shut with a fury that you've never seen before, and locks it to make sure you won't even try to make a feeble attempt at an escape.

He was powerful. Alastor knew he didn't really need to lock the door because with his power, he could vaporize you before you even thought of making a dash for the door. He did it as an intimidation tactic because he knew the fear it instilled in his prey.

Now, walking towards you, he pointed his staff at your chest, and leaned in close to your face. Strange static and symbols fill the air as he and his antlers grow in size, towering over you.

"Now... who are you really? You get one chance to make a feeble excuse before I kill you and broadcast your screams for all of Hell to hear, for making a mockery of my dear (y/n) by taking the name of my beloved and masquerading around Hell- thinking you can show up here like this to try and mess with ME- tHe RaDiO DEMON."

You see dark shadows and tentacle-like masses appear, and you stumble backward until your back hits a wall, never breaking eye contact with him- your lip quivering in fear.

"I.. But- It... is me...hun... I missed you so much..." You whisper with a somber smile that's quickly warped into an ugly crying face. The unrelenting tears keep rolling down your face, and your left hand reaches up towards his even more demonically altered form that towers over you in a desperate attempt to get him to recognize you.

Before you can touch his face, one of his hands snatches your wrist and pulls it closer to himself to examine the sparkle that caught his eye as you started to reach out to him, roughly jostling you and lifting you up in the air by your wrist as a result.

You wince briefly at the pain in your wrist and shoulder joints as he examines your hand when you remember you were wearing your ring. You never took it off all these years.

You could hear his breath hitch just ever so slightly over the static as he gently put you down and let your feet touch the floor again.

Alastor realized that the ring on your left ring finger was the exact one he had gotten for you- the one he put on your ring finger right before he buried you right the night you were brutally assaulted and murdered back when he was alive.

He slowly morphed back into his "normal" form. (Normal for Hell, that is, this was an entirely new look for him from what you remembered when he was alive).

The shock dawning on him that it really was you was apparent as he took a few steps back, still holding your hand. He looked at you in disbelief, the look of pure shock was just like how you had looked at him initially in the lobby.

Then suddenly, he pulled you into a warm embrace, "My dearest... I am so sorry for hurting you. My darling... whatever are you doing here? Someone like you doesn't belong here!"

Now, holding your face in both of his hands, he wiped your tears with the most gentle expression on his face, a stark contrast from the nightmarish demonic one just a moment ago. and you could almost swear you could see the slightest traces of a misty look in his eyes as he held you.

His claw-like fingers slightly dug into your face, but not enough to hurt, as he examined your new appearance, his gaze turning from soft into a hardened expression once again. Almost snarling, he began to ask you again, "Tell me, darling, tell me the name of the gods forsaken angel bastard that cast you down from Heaven. I will find a way to make them pay. I'll make them ALL pay for this... NO ONE will ever harm you again..." The strange symbols and glitchy auras were threatening to come out again.

You sniffled, still trying to calm down your tears, which immediately made him halt in his tracks and turn his attention back to you at this moment.

You looked at the ground, and you knew you couldn't avoid this conversation forever, "Hun... I... Before we met... there was something I never told you-" Before you could finish, you felt your legs start to wobble underneath you- the adrenaline was starting to fade and you were starting to feel some of the pain from your previous injuries come back to you.

"Please, my love, take a seat first." He guided you to a set of a table and two chairs. Ever the gentleman, he pulled your chair out for you and helped made sure you were alright before he sat down across the table from you.

You put your hands on the table, a signal he immediately picked up on as a sign to envelop your hands in his. You looked at him in the eyes with a look of shame that scrunched up your face as you prepared to tell him the truth, "Alastor, hun... I never went to Heaven..."

You swore you heard another record scratch before a quiet hum of static filled the air again. Alastor chuckled, "Oh my dear, never lost your sense of humor, I see!"

A look of even deeper shame washes over your face as you break eye contact with him and stare at his hands that held your's on the table, "It's true. Alastor..." You sigh deeply, feeling an aching pain in your chest, not only from your injuries but also from the mental anguish you were dealing with as you shakily begin to explain everything about your past. Your shitty family and messed-up inlaws. Your narcissistic, unloving, and abusive ex-husband that you killed.

You painstakingly revealed every single minute detail. You told him everything.

-> Part 12

Tag List:

@mysticwitchcraftco @lil-bexie @lonely-burger @cherry-cola-100 @angelxx7 @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 @avitute @justhellacesome @mcrtrashfan @spookysisters

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dcxdpdabbles · 9 months

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So Danny is just a bunch of good that takes a humanoid shape, and we've seen him stretch and warp himself. What is sometimes he just leaves bits of himself behind. He has restoration so he can heal himself and others so when he realizes he left a foot behind he just grows a new one.

Batman: We've found more of the meta, 3 left feet all genetically identical, either were dealing with a cloning operation or someone using a regenerative meta as an organ farm. The most recent finds washed up between Gotham and metropolis.

Meanwhile Danny: I've gotta visit Dani more Madrid was beautiful can't wait to show Jazz the photos, tried to land and eats it, Damn it I though I fixed this!

Danny loves his new power- he likes to call it "Play-Boo" as a pun on playdough because it allows him to shift and change his body as he sees fit.

It was hard to mentally change his appearance as his core was tied to his idea of himself. Still, he can make his hair longer at will, shift to a younger or older version of himself, and even slightly change his coloration, though that takes a bit more concentration.

Danny is sadly unable to shape-shift into someone else. He thinks being able to regenerate is an okay trade-off. Especially when Danny accidentally leaves bits of himself behind with his new warping technique.

It's not the kind of warping he would like- seeing as he could only go a few yards from his original spot- but he hopes with time and practice, he will be able to fling himself from one side of the country to the other, much like opening portals.

But unlike the portals, he won't have to step into the ghost zone as a layaway.

One day, he'll be able to think, "Star City!" and bam will be there without having to destabilize his whole body or lose limbs. Or some internal organs. Like his left kidney.

Which was currently somewhere in Gotham as his warping has developed to the point that he can send himself to the area within eyesight, and he had traveled to metropolis in this method instead of flying to try to perfect it.

"Shoot," He grumbles, falling into a booth across from Dani. She had asked that he visit the big city with her, do a few sights, and then the two would fly downstate to check out some national parks.

"Lost something again?" She asks, sipping the soda she had ordered while waiting for him. Dani had been in the city for about three days and had fallen in love with the diner they were eating at.

She insisted they meet up there just so Danny could try some of their roast beef sandwiches. The favorite food of the two siblings.

"My left Kidney." He sighs, patting his side. Thank goodness his Play-Boo allowed him to not feel pain. He hated to have to feel every time he lost one of his body parts. "I need to eat my troubles away until a new one grows back."

"I'm not paying for your meal."

"But Dani! I'm down a kidney!"

She snorts. "It'll grow back by the time we leave, and you know it. But fine, you big baby, I'll pay for lunch. You have to cover the diner."

Satisfied, he lets her call over a waitress who quickly takes their orders and vanishes to the back, where the cook will likely make "the best damn roast beef" for him. He leans back, asking Dani about her travels.

She eagerly starts talking about the local art she has taken pictures of. At one point, her travels had turned into photo albums, documenting everything she saw and experienced.

She made some money this way, selling some of her photos, but mostly, Dani preferred to keep them for herself or the family.

As she talked about the light reflecting on some large News building- the daily planet- and the great lengths she had to go to get close enough to capture the sunlight, the door to the dinner chimed.

Two men in suits ushered in, one wearing a dark blue that seemed far cheaper than the deep black of his companion. Danny instinctively turned towards the sound, but he quickly looked away as the two men found a seat in a booth furthest away from him.

"I met this guy, Jimmy, who promised to have my photos submitted for a junior photographer contest. It's to help promote tourism, so it's based on the "Metropolis' beauty," but first place is five hundred!" Dani eagerly tells him, her eyes sparkling.

"I know you'll win. You'll make a name for yourself in no time as the best photographer of our era." Danny smiles at his little sister. He lowers his voice "Maybe with that money you win we won't have to sell my organs for a while."

She laughs, adding to the joke like it's second nature, "But you're so fun to harvest! Side's it's not like Vlad will allow you to walk away from the operation. He already has two more kidney orders from Gotham waiting for you."

Danny grimces. "I just lost one this morning. Why does he overbook me so much."

"I can do it if you-"

"Not on your life. I can regerate. You can only cry."

Dani kicks him hard in the shin. She waves her coffee spoon at him like a wizard banishing a wand. "Are you calling me a crybaby?"

"Well, I'm not calling you a cry-lady." He laughs as she scoffs. She opens her mouth to say something when her eyes lock with something over his shoulder. Her face closes down at once, hardening into someone who has traveled through the roughest parts of cities and towns.

Danny used to be worried that her instance of traveling alone at such a young age would ruin her childlike wonder and innocence, but he knew it would be worse to keep her at home.

Even with Vlad finally getting the much-needed help, the fact that Dani has existed for two years now didn't mean she was comfortable with being tied down.

Twisting around, he doesn't see anything out of the ordinary. The two men are casually eating their meals by the far window- too far for them to hear, the waitress is sitting behind the counter flipping through a magazine, and the chef can be seen through a little window making something at his gril.

What had alarmed Dani so much?

"We have to go," She hisses in ghost speech, eyes never leaving the man in the blue suit. Was it him? He seems to unthreatening with his big bulky glasses and easy smile. "I don't know why, but I don't like that guy's vibe."

Well, he won't argue with her about her gut feelings. Those were never important to ignore. "Let's take the rest of this to go."

She raises her hand, calling over the waitress, flipping open her wallet to leave enough to cover their bill and leave a generous tip. Danny quickly gathers their food in take-home boxes, keeping his body in front of Dani to block the men's view of her.

He's grateful that he had pulled on his hood, as his ears had gotten cold from the warping. With the fact he never turned around once since they walked in and his trusty hood, his face has been kept hidden from the men.

A small victory.

Hopefully, he won't see them again after this.

"Come on." He tells Dani, as she quickly gathers her stuff. "Vlad is going to have my arms and legs if we late meet him. I don't want to be just a torso again."

"I mean, it's your fault for trying to run away." She sighs. "You know how he gets. At least you didn't have to entertain his guests."

"Yeah laying in a dark room hoping to regrow my limbs is much better than letting those freaks touch me." Danny agrees thinking back to the big gala Vlad had invited them to.

To show goodwill and try to move past their hostility, the Fentons' children- Jazz, Dan, Danny, and Dani- had all agreed to go with him, under the condition that they be on their best behavior.

Danny had been running late due to a ghost attack and had chosen to use his wrapping far past the agreed limitation his parents, and Vlad had set for him.

He got to Vlad's castle but none of his limbs had followed him. Mom had been so outraged by his reckless behavior he's been grounded staying in one of the guest rooms without tv to "think about what could have happened!"

Dad and Vlad had merely nodded to their wife's punishment for their child. (And he was still getting used to the idea of Vlad being married to his parents.)

Jazz, Dan, and Dani were left to the gala, where Jazz had intellectual conversations with college professors Vlad was funding or where Dan was talking up some pretty men and women with a drink in hand, Dani as the youngest was left to affluent old ladies pinching her cheeks and giving her backhand compliments on being a "lady."

The Dannies hated being touched by strangers, and those higher-class old ladies had no concept of personal space.

"Don't worry, I'm almost too old soon." Dani chirps, holding the door open for him. "Soon Vlad will have to find other kids to flaunt in front of rich people."

"That would be the day." The two exit the dinner, switching the conversation to the idea of dessert- deciding to search on their phones a local frozen yogurt place.

Neither notice the two men- one whose fork has crumbled in his grip and another who is clicking away on his phone with a look of outer disgust on his face

"Bruce?"

"I'm already messaging Babs. She's following them with the city cameras as we speak. Don't worry, Clark, this "Vlad" isn't going to get away with it."

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #Practice makes perfect Au #Basically Clark started heard them with his superhearing #He thought it was cute when she talked about the photo contest that quickly grew into alarm at the rest of the convo #Misunderstandings all around #Vlad married Jack and Maddie two years ago #Now he the chill step dad #Danny is 16 #Dani is 14 #Jaz is 18 #and Dan is 17

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thatlittlered · 4 months

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time warp | aaron hotchner

warning(s): none, just hotch being delicious

GIF by @katebeckets

part one

author's note: I have never updated a story this fast in my life. Another part is coming tomorrow.

Follow me @MadeofLilies on Ao3 and let me know if you want to be tagged here.

-.-.-

The door to his office is open, chatter from the bullpen reaching him when you all get too loud. He can tell Morgan is pestering you about something and the others have gathered around to listen.

“You only have one watch?”

“How many watches do other people have? You act like it’s insane.”

Spencer, like always, feels the need to interject, “I have three.”

You sigh, abandoning your pen and notes.

“I have another one but that’s my grandmother’s, I can’t wear it to work.”

Derek is not satisfied with your answer.

“You have a thousand pieces of jewelry.”

“I know!”

“You are wearing most of them right now.”

“I know, Morgan, you can stop bullying me now.” You pout at him and he pouts back, but his grin is indicator enough that he’s not even close to finished with you.

“Where do you even spend your paychecks, sweetheart?”

“Important stuff. Like shoes.”

“I only have one pair of shoes aside of my trainers.”

Emily laughs, “Yeah, we know that, Spence. Their time is coming to an end, by the way.”

Morgan zeroes in on you again, poking a finger into your knee to get a reaction.

“How many pairs of shoes do you have exactly? Fifteen? Twenty?”

“They were twenty… at some point.”

Triumph.

You almost can’t stand his shit-eating grin.

“There you go. Too bad you don’t get to wear them here.”

“Where do you spend yours? A lifetime’s supply of V-necks at GAP?”

You stand up from your chair, eager to get away from this conversation.

“You’re only mean to me because you know I’ll love you anyway.”

“Maybe.”

He puts his hand over his heart in feign hurt. Garcia mutters something about a woman’s right to shoes in your defense and you kiss her cheek to thank her on your way to the kitchenette. Aaron still watches from his seat and squirms uncomfortably when he sees Morgan follow you.

You take his mug and pour you both some coffee while he takes a seat, thanking you. You don’t even see Hotch come in.

“Did your watch get lost?”

You almost spill your coffee at the baritone of his voice. Everything he says comes out so official, so professional, as if speaking orders, but not at that beach under the sunrise. Who was he then?

“Yes, it did. Totally on its own and not because I keep leaving my stuff in random places and not looking after them properly.”

“Maybe that’s why you spend so much on stuff, if you keep losing them.”

You quirk a brow at Derek, leaning over him menacingly from your position.

“I swear to God, Morgan, this might be the day you officially lose my affection.”

He takes the cup you’ve poured for him from your hand and slowly walks backwards in resignation.

“No, please, I didn’t mean it.”

You smile at each other and you point a finger at him. Hotch watches with a frown.

“Tread lightly.”

When Morgan’s gone, he can finally step closer to you. Getting to the coffee machine is only the excuse.

“You know, you’re really good at keeping him in check. Maybe you should be in charge here.”

You smile into your cup, “That’s alright, we already have a boss and he’s okay.”

“Oh, is he? Good to know, I can’t wait to have that all over my evaluation files next year.”

You nod. The fabric of his suit jacket brushes against your arm while he pours.

“Some might even use the words ‘pretty good’.”

He hums, “So eloquent.”

Your smile deepens, nose wrinkling upwards in a way that now really can’t be hidden in your cup.

-.-.-

It’s almost time for everyone to head home and for once, he’s trying really hard to make it out of the office before sundown; maybe spend some quality time with Jack.

There’s a knock on his door before it opens and he’s about to send whoever it is away but-

“Hi, sorry, am I interrupting?”

He looks up, uncharacteristically disoriented.

“Uh, no-no, come in.”

“Are you coming to Rossi’s tonight?”

He’s dumbfounded.

“I’m not really sure yet, I have some errands to run when I’m done here.”

“Oh, okay… I just found some old Marvel comics and I thought Jack might like to have them, but I didn’t bring them with me. Maybe I could give them to you tonight? That is, if you make it.”

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“Do you mind?”

“No, of course not, I just-”, he exhales, “I’ll be there.”

You smile and nod, ready to leave.

“Maybe I could give you a ride and you can give them to me then. I mean,” his thumb scratches his bottom lip uncomfortably, “your place is practically on the way.”

“Have you ever been to my place?”

Aaron laughs awkwardly, “No.”

“But you seem to know what you’re talking about, so I’m going to put my faith in you. Pick me up at seven?”

“That works.”

-.-.-

It’s not even half past six when he rings your doorbell and you open the door still clad in pjs.

“You are so early.”

Hotch suddenly looks so small for such a usually imposing man. He stands in your doorway with nervous hands in his pockets and you don’t think you’ve ever seen him act like this before.

“I’m sorry, I can wait in the car if you’d like.”

“No, it’s okay, come in. I think I knew deep down that you would be; just not by this much.”

He clears his throat and moves inside to now stand awkwardly at the apartment’s entrance, “I’m sorry, I started way too early from my house. Overestimated how long it would take to get here.”

Your interactions do something to warp his sense of time.

“That’s okay, Aaron, really. You’re just going to have to give me a few minutes because I haven’t had the time to get ready yet.”

He watches, frozen in his place, while you walk towards the kitchen.

“Do you need anything? Coffee, orange juice?”

He almost smiles to himself. He just knew you’d be the type of person to always keep the fridge fully stocked even if you’re barely ever home. He likes the confirmation that he knows you, despite his inability to really make conversation and establish familiarity. He grasps at straws; little pieces of you that he sometimes finds and keeps them close to his heart.

“I’m fine, thank you.”

You still bring him a glass of water, freezing cold, just like he likes it, and rest it on the coffee table.

“You can sit, if you want.”

“Right.”

He smiles and sits almost robotically. When he picks up the glass, he softly wipes the ring of water that’s formed underneath with his hand but you don’t see it.

“Let me just grab the box.”

“It’s a whole box?”

“Yeah, I got it at a yard sale.”

“You bought it? You really didn’t have to do that.”

“Well, now that him and I are officially friends I have to do something to maintain the relationship, seeing how I never actually get to see him.” You sit beside him while he looks through the various issues. There have to be at least fifteen in here.

“Yeah, neither do I,” he really appreciates the comforting hand on his shoulder, “This was very nice of you to do, thank you.”

You smile and nod at him.

“Actually, I also have something I wanted to give you; I just need to get it from the car.”

“Me?”

“Yeah, give me a moment, will you?”

He’s out and back in a second. Practically runs back into your apartment when you open the door; a small gift bag in hand.

“I would have brought in with me, but I chickened out at the last minute.”

His fingers linger when he hands it to you. It’s almost a caress in passing.

“You got me something?”

It’s a digital watch, neatly sat on soft velvet.

Was that the errand he had to run?

“Oh, Hotch, thank you so much, but you really shouldn’t have. I know I joked around today, but I would have actually gotten around to getting one. I am not that financially irresponsible.”

“It’s nothing really, it’s not an expensive watch.”

“Oh, okay, as long as it’s the cheap, trashy stuff. Phew.”

He laughs and you realize you’re both standing in your doorway again.

“I just wanted to do something nice.”

“You’re nice to me all the time.”

His brows furrow, “It doesn’t feel like I am.”

“It must come easy then.”

“It does with you.”

He meets your gaze and you stay there for a while.

“Can you help me try it on?”

“Of course.”

He clasps it high on your wrist, just like he’s seen you wear the previous one. The color matches your jewelry and it’s excruciatingly sweet just how much attention he pays to details.

“I just wanted to thank you, I suppose, for the other day. It meant a lot to me.”

Aaron’s hand doesn’t leave your arm, instead wraps gently around it instead, as if one of your bracelets.

“It meant a lot to me too.”

His breathing is heavy, his voice barely a whisper. What you are doing feels like a secret; like it’s meant to be hidden from the rest of the world.

“I’m not sure you mean that in the same way that I do.”

Your other hand comes to rest on top of his, thumb passing softly over protruding veins and scars. He thinks, for a moment, it might wipe them away.

“Then you’re not the people expert that you think you are.”

His laugh is heartbreaking.

“Guess I’m not very good at that either.”

You hum, “You’re okay.”

Neither of you is moving but it feels like you’re getting closer.

“So eloquent again.”

You can’t help but beam with pride at how comfortable he’s getting with your banter. A whole world unlocked and open for you to see. His body is drawn to you, almost folds over and around you to be closer. As close as he can possibly get without touching you more.

“It’s the worst moment possible now, when you’ve just given me a gift and picked me up from my place, but I think it deserves to be said that I would very much like to be kissed by you.”

His eyes flutter close.

“It really is the worst moment possible,” his hand slides slowly from your wrist to elbow, taking in the feeling of bare skin, “but I would very much like to kiss you.”

“But you won’t.”

His hand stops traveling up your arm, drops back onto your wrist and without really meaning to, pulls you closer.

“No.”

You stay like this for a while. Nothing but soft breathing to be heard in the room.

“I should probably go.”

You look up in surprise, “Are you not coming with me?”

“I’m sorry, I just…” he touches the inside of your palm and traces the lines as if to remember them, “I wouldn't know what to say or do after this.”

You smile, but it doesn’t reach your eyes.

“It’s alright, I understand… I’ll see you tomorrow.”

The loss of his touch is like a sudden drop in the temperature around you. You both feel it.

He doesn’t meet your gaze again, simply gathers the box and clears his throat as if that will magically return him to what he’s used to being.

“Yeah. Tomorrow.”

You see him press his lips together before he turns to leave.

When you get to Rossi’s, the team is disappointed to know he’s not coming after all, but they’re not surprised. JJ asks you about the new watch and you lie. You can tell Emily is not convinced but she doesn’t say anything about it, merely smiles at you and inches closer with her chair.

Aaron spends another night alone. Jack is at a sleepover with a friend that he didn’t have the heart to pick him up from all of the sudden.

That’s the cost of being a stone, he supposes.

part three

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #criminal minds #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #thomas gibson

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hughiecampbelle · 2 months

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The Boys Preference: Being An Assassin Who Joins The team

A/N: I'M OBSESSED WITH THIS IDEA :D I have so many ideas attached to it, so many posts brewing, so I really hope you like it!!! I kinda think of it similar to Red Room from MCU and also the Aunts from The Handmaid's Tale, if that makes any sense lol. Feedback is always appreciated 💜💜💜

Butcher likes you. He sees the emotion you evoke from the rest of the team and he thinks you're a perfect fit. You're not sure what to think of him. If he was one of your siblings, he wouldn't have lasted long. Selfish, arrogant, self-righteous. That's the kind of thing that got you punished, that got you killed. Beneath it though, to a degree, you can tell he really cares for everyone. It might be twisted and warped and at this point unrecognizable, but it was there. He enjoys hearing about your kills, especially when it was Supes. You weren't just good at what you did, you were the best. You were creative, too. Imaginative. He brags to you about killing Translucent, how they did it. You're not terribly impressed, but for his benefit you put on a show. You're a little weird, but he likes that. You're except in some areas (like going undercover) and mediocre in others (like figuring out how to befriend Hughie). He doesn't judge what you've done. It's just how you were raised. He tries to do a background check on you, but there's nothing. The name your mentors gave you wasn't the one your parents, if there even were parents, gave you. You were a blank slate. It was both riveting and terribly dangerous.

Hughie has the most questions. He can see just from your appearance, all the scars on your face and neck, all the ones he can't see, that you've been to hell and back. You hold yourself rigid, tight. Even when you seem relaxed you aren't. You're constantly looking for the nearest exit or weapon, scanning every room you walk into. It spooks him a little. He lets his imagination get the better of him, something he knows he shouldn't do, but just can't help it. You like Hughie instantly. And not just because he's too awkward and frail to get in a proper punch, too soft to ever truly hurt you. He seems sweet, naive, like he needs protecting. He reminds you of the kids in the program who didn't make it. You protected them, too. Or, at least tried to. You're as friendly as you let yourself, taking an interest in whatever he's doing, becoming his shadow. Everyone takes notice, but he doesn't seem to mind. He likes your company. The rest of the team hopes you'll open up to him, tell him what you won't tell everyone else, but he refuses to pry. If you talk, that's great. If not, oh well. If you want to hang out by his side, that works too.

Annie has nothing against you, but you definitely keep your distance, especially at first. You've killed more than enough Supes to prove your competency, more than you can name. You're not sure what they tell each other, but you imagine it similar to the system you grew up with: word spread quickly, you all felt it when one of your own were killed. There was an alliance that went unsaid. If you could avenge your fallen siblings, you would. If she found out who you killed, how many, would she come after you? Eventually you learn they're not all connected like that, that Annie's on your side. Still, you kind of see her as the embodiment of everything you're not. She's sweet, caring, and honest. You've been lying all your life, you can't tell what's real and what isn't. Hughie likes her, loves her, so that definitely helps in developing your relationship. Annie knows about your past, what little you share of it, but she doesn't judge. Maybe, at a time, she would have, but after being part of The Boys so long, that kind of thing kind of loses its shock power. You did what you had to, what you were trained to. Weren't you all guilty of a version of that?

M.M., similar to his initial feelings about Kimiko, isn't too fond of you. He doesn't mean to judge as harshly as he does, but just by the looks of you, you mean trouble. Hughie tries to talk to him, but he just can't get past your quirks. You're so naive about certain things (what music you like to listen to, shows you've never seen, how to form normal friendships, what jokes are funny) and so knowledgeable about other things (the fastest way to bleed out a man, how to make a murder look like a suicide, the amount of languages you were taught to better go after your targets). It just doesn't sit right with him. Knowing this, sensing this, you keep your distance, knowing not to further upset him similar to how your mentors were. Be invisible to him, them. It isn't until you give him sound advice for protecting Monique and Janine, something he never would have thought of, does he reconsider his feelings. He's still not a big fan, but he can see why you belong on the team, why your skills are beneficial, even if some of the stuff you say so lightly gives him the heebie jeebies, like the time you reminisced about killing someone with just a wooden spoon.

Frenchie doesn't really see you as an assassin. They've all killed people, it didn't seem like such a big deal. He doesn't love the idea of you being around Kimiko. She's made a life for herself beyond what she's gone through. It feels like you're still learning how to be without it. Without your mentors, your siblings. He knows there's no one better to give you a chance than him, so he's very open, inviting. You talk to him exclusively in French. You tell him small parts of your past, and he's grateful for that. In return, he tells you about his own childhood. When he shares the scars from his father, you tell him about the ones on your face and neck, how you deserved them for disobedience. He doesn't tell anyone else, knowing it was only meant for him to hear. You even speak affectionately about your mentors, the ones who were kind and only hurt you when you needed it. He wasn't shocked, at least not outwardly, not wanting you to feel strange or odd. Because you don't speak French with an accent, it's hard for him to decipher where you're from. All over, you say, and though you know it's a non-answer, it's the truth. You've been all over the world. You just happened to end up in New York.

Kimiko becomes your friend immediately. Though you gravitate towards Hughie because he's sweet, you like Kimiko because you can tell you're very similar. She doesn't have to say anything, you just know. You recognize the signs. The rest of the team doesn't think it's a great idea, you are alone with her, namely Frenchie. When you aren't cold and standoffish, you're far too casual about what you've done, pointing to old movies with famous Supes back in the day or old politicians, reminiscing how you killed them, made it look like a suicide. Or you talk about growing up, how you were punished for crying even when your friends were killed, pointing out the scars they left. She's not upset by it, she's glad you're talking about it. It makes her upbringing feel normal. You learn sign language quickly, another language you can add to your list, telling her more than anyone else. In return you listen to her, whatever she wants to share, grateful for someone who doesn't look at you like a monster or a freak. You like listening to her go on about Frenchie, her feelings for him. It's a piece of childhood you never got to take part in. It's nice.

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thoughtsfromlayla · 6 months

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26 Ways of Taking You: D for Doggy

Summary: How does an Endless teach you a lesson? Maybe on your hands and knees.

Notes: ~2.9k words, your girl needs to get laid 눈_눈

Warnings: MDNI - 18+, unprotective sex (do you think Endless can get STDs?), fem!reader, dom!dream, p in v, no foreplay goin' in dry babyyyy, jealous dream, unintentional cheating, slight angst but it gets fucked out, enjoy

⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄

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The world warps around you once again as your body stretches to a singular dimension. You are the beginning and end of everything. You will be there even when Death leaves and then you will take what she has left and open the next universe. Rebirth and repurpose.

The Traveller. The One Who Knows. The Singularity.

You have a name, you think, but it’s so old you don’t even remember how it feels on your tongue.

It’s lonely being you, your sole job is making sure that everything works out in the end for every being, dead, alive, or yet to exist. And in your lonely existence, you often wander to different universes and realms. Your favorite was the Dreaming, a large realm that spread several different universes ruled by the Lord of Dreams, Morpheus.

The familiar essence of the Dreaming greets you when you’re done warping into the realm. You feel each cell of your body rebuilding itself, from quirks to cells, from cells to living organisms, you are reborn. With a blow from your lips, your hair made of star systems and nebulas float back into place.

The familiar corset you wore before you warped cinches around your waist and a breath leaves you, the ivory bones poking into your ribs. It was the necessary fashion for the realm you went to where a sneakily placed seed was enough to end a war that would come in five decade’s time. The rest of the time was spent entertaining the fae prince in his court. A good way to pass the time, but it eventually got boring, hence here you were.

The smell of tea and leather bound books indicates that you managed to weasel yourself into Lucienne’s library. You run your fingers across the spine of old and new books alike, occasionally itching your back when the markings annoy you. The corset dilutes the relief and you’re left with a slight vex for being denied scratching an itch. Lucienne is fast to find you, or you her, it’s all the same to you. You greet each other at a long table. Scrolls, books, and maps laid out before you.

“Lady Singularity,” She greets with a familiar smile. “It’s good to see you again. It’s been a few decades now, has it?”

“It has.” You agree as you turn your attention to the worn book in her hands, noticing the familiar face of the fae prince you met. “I was just with him.” You comment off handedly.

“Of course, the Dreaming catalogs everything. You have been busy.” Lucienne comments as she continues to flip through the pages of your recent adventure.

You look over her shoulder and read along with her, chuckling to yourself at the fun you had. When a familiar scene starts to unfold on the page, blush creeps up your cheeks and down your neck, a few of the stars in your hair exploding from your outrage.

“Don’t read that!” You exclaim as you yank the book from her hands. You close it shut and the sound echoes in the library.

“Oh, please, I’ve read everything. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about.” Lucienne takes the book from you and no matter how hard you grip, the librarian has some weird power over the book and takes it easily.

“Okay, well don’t read it when I’m in the room. I don’t need a friend to know what I did with… him.” Your words taper as you give yourself away the more you speak. “I’m leaving.” You say quickly as you run away from the situation.

The sun is setting when you make your way up the winding and seemingly never-ending stairs of the castle. The halls were cast in warm pinks and oranges when you reached the room the Dream Lord had given you the first time you visited several millennia ago. The room is the same as you left it, the open window giving to a soft breeze as dusk turns to night.

You walk to the mirror, noticing slight changes to your physical form when you jump through that wormhole. You’ll stay the night and then go back to your own realm, the dimension between past and future, but for now, the present is much needed.

You pull at the string of your outer dress and start to breathe easier, the heavy fabric dropping and pooling around your feet. Your shoes come off soon after and then your stockings. Your fingers grasp at the strings that tie your corset together but each time comes just an inch short. You’re becoming breathless from the struggle when your room door opens.

“Singularity.” A voice calls out to you. His shadow blocks the entire door before he slinks into the room. His robe flowed behind him like a wave of black ink.

“Hello, Morpheus.” You greet back, looking at him through the ornate mirror.

You go back to trying to loosen your corset, the markings on your back growing more and more itchy the longer you struggle. You give up with a huff, and your shoulders sag in defeat.

“Allow me,” Dream offers and his cold fingers run across your upper back, moving the nebulas over your shoulder, then trailer down your shoulder.

Goosebumps follow the fingers and down your arms before his slender fingers go to untangle the corset strings. You feel his exhale on the back of your neck and you close your eyes, afraid of what you may look like to him through the mirror, or worse yet losing yourself if you were to see him. You do end up peaking and watching intensely at how his expert fingers unfasten the strings of the constricting clothing.

“I have missed you.” Dream confesses.

His lips press against the base of your neck when the corset finally comes off. Despite it slowly coming off, you find it hard to breathe still. His proximity was going to kill you if the end of time didn’t. He looks at you through the mirror, keeping eye contact with you as his fingers land on your waist.

“Will you stay the night?” He murmurs against your neck, kissing the soft skin beneath it again. His hands go over your shoulder again, pulling at the chemise and letting the thin fabric fall off by itself. The final piece of clothing joining the others at your feet.

You turn around, his hands guiding you, and place your arms around his neck, resting them there on his shoulders.

“Maybe a few nights, if you shall permit it?” You grin up at him with a slight tilt of your head.

He chuckles and leans in for a kiss and you meet him halfway, standing on your toes to reach his height. Oh, how he has missed the taste of you, the softness of your lips pressed against his. You have been gone too long, he thinks with a groan.

You jump and find it to no surprise when he catches you easily, your legs wrapping around his waist comfortably as he moves the two of you towards the bed. Morpheus is all hands, running them over the roundness of your ass, up the curves of your hips, back down to caress the plumpness of your thighs.

His lips continue, running his tongue across your bottom lip and leaning into you when you answer with a whine. The taste of you drives him crazy, his mind is in swirls as he tastes faerie pomegranate and figs.

“Did you visit the Faerie Prince of Khoné?” He pulls away from your lips despite the difficulty of being away from you. Instead he finds solace in the shape of your collarbone, pressing open mouth kisses onto the thin skin. “I can taste it. I can taste him.” His voice rumbles with danger, the voice of a jealous lover.

Oblivious, you settle your arms around his neck, playing with the small loose hairs at the base of his head. “I did, why?”

“And you visited him?” He asked again, emphasizing the word to ask you indirectly of what he really wanted to know.

You look at him, eyes dark and swirling with emotion, his hands on your hips holding you harder as the seconds tick by.

“Yes?” You answer unsure. “I visited him.”

A frown etches onto his face as he stays silent.

You scoff at his reaction. “Of course I have multiple lovers, as I expect you to as well?”

Your fingers wander upwards into his unruly hair, twisting a few strands between your fingers. Still, he stays silent. The only indication was the brief flick of his eyes leaving yours.

“Oh,” You say when you understand. “Oh.” You say one more time when the weight of the conversation dawns on you again.

You’ve never felt more exposed than you have now, an emotional wedge driven between you and Morpheus. You get up from his lap and it hurts when he lets you, you feel the way your stomach drops at how easily he lets you go. Your arms cross over your chest and you step further away from the bed, and from him. The two parts of the equation are something you no longer saw yourself allowed to be a part of.

“Forgive me, I presumed you had other lovers,” You meekly say.

Morpheus saw you now, no longer the confident entity that you usually were. You didn’t even meet his gaze. The stars in your hair turned blue and dull, a few dying at the fraying ends.

“You presumed I had other lovers?” He echos, his voice tipped with anger. He stands now, looming over you, peering at you down his nose. His question was obvious, accusatory, and somewhat downright demeaning.

“Forgive me, I’ll just…” You turn to leave, running away just as you’ve always done when things get too hard. You feel the way your body begins to warp, unraveling strand by strand.

The warping stops when cool hands wrap themselves around your waist once again. One moment you are between realms and the next you are pulled back on the plush bed. You stare, dazed, at the equally ornate headboard and try to backtrack what just happened. Morpheus comes behind you, watching with lust filled eyes of you on your hands and knees, at the way your hair falls over your shoulders. You turn your head and look at him over your shoulders, unsure what was happening. Morpheus’s face gives away nothing, even his clothes disappeared, an act that you didn’t see him do.

“What’s–” Your words are cut off as he leans and his hand comes entangled in your hair, firmly grasping it. A gasp leaves your lips and you notice the way your body couldn’t stop the way your back arched at the pleasurable pain.

“Bow your head,” He growls as he shoves your head into the pillow. Your arms give out beneath you at the slight force. Heat travels easily down to your core and you feel the wetness slide down your inner thigh.

“It’s Lord Morpheus for tonight, darling. You will do well to remember that.” His voice gravels as he runs a finger down your spine. He traces the markings lightly, causing a ticklish sensation across your back and a whine follows. Your ass pushes back on him impatiently at which he clicks his tongue at.

“You do not get to ask for anything tonight. You will only take what your rightful lover will give you, understood?” His fingers trace your opening teasingly as his other hand holds down your hip in control,

“Yes, my lord,” You gape, your eyes rolling and you swore you could see the back of your skull. A plea rests heavy on your tongue, but you bite yourself so as to not break his rules tonight.

Dream of the Endless is a gentle lover, but even his patience can run thin. His eyes run over your figure, curves prominent at the position he has placed you in. He loved you like this, vulnerable, exposed, and ready for him to do as he pleases with you tonight.

The hotness of him presses against your entrance, sitting comfortably between your lips and he pushes forward once, twice, neither times entering you. You only whine in distress as he dances the line between teasing and pure, unadulterated pleasure. He caresses his hand over the curve of your ass, against the softness of your thighs, just like before, and you understand that he isn’t mad anymore, but you will be taught a lesson tonight nonetheless.

He grabs the base of your hair again, the nebulas leaving shimmering stardust over his finger and presses a third time. His other hand grounds you on your hips and he pushes in. Without any proper foreplay his size stretches you uncomfortably. But, Dream of the Endless is a gentle lover so he stays still, fighting every urge in his shaking body as he looks down at your ragged breathing and uncontrollable shivers.

He waits until you push back into him before he begins to move, taking you in inch by thick inch. He pulls out and a groan vibrates in his throat at the drag of his cock in you. The sound of your muffled moans spur him as he stares at how he enters you again. One more drag of his cock and he starts to fuck you in earnest as your whimpers grow louder.

The sound of skin slapping against skin bounce around the room accompanied by the sound of your wonton, muffled moans. He pulls at your hair, pulling your face away from the pillows and the sounds grow louder. Each thrust he gives you makes your moans grow higher in pitch. You don’t think he’s ever been this deep in you as he scrambles the thoughts into your brain into nothing more than pleasurable gibberish.

His hands were everywhere they could get a hold of. You’re chanting now, anything that comes across as a thought in your mind leaves your mouth in a haste of gibberish and repeats of his name like a mantra. Your clit begs for attention and with the last bit of clarity you had left, you moved one hand down towards your core.

Morpheus is quick to stop you, giving a sound slap on the meat of your ass cheeks, the sting enough for you to yank your hand away.

“Please,” You whine. “Please, please, please, my lord.”

“Will you return to the Faerie Prince of Khoné?” He asks between pants.

Your pussy tightens around his cock as his fingers and trusts do not slow down. Your orgasm was imminent and just barely shimmering under your skin. The question he asks sounds muffled in your mind, distorted amongst the thoughts of his unrelenting pounding and your clit pulsing from attention.

“Hah… who?” You managed to choke out.

“Perfect answer, my star.” He whispers in your ear.

“Please,” You beg again. “I need it.”

He thinks for a bit, considering if you deserve it as he watches you try to fuck yourself harder by meeting his thrusts. With a hum he leans over you, enveloping you in the warmth of his body as his fingers slide between your legs. He taps it once, enough to make you jump slightly in your skin, before he draws tight circles around the enlarged clit, your arousal making the action easy and slippery.

Somewhere along the lines of your moaning, drool seeps out of you, wetting the pillow with your spit. Morpheus notices, of course, and grins at the sight.

“Let me cum, please let me cum!” You plead into the air, obscenities of his name following soon after.

“Very well, I shall give it to you.”

Morpheus fucks you harder, just the way you like it, just the way he knows how to give it to you. Your orgasm is ripped out of you with a high pitched wail, sparking down your spine as little firecrackers light up in your hair, your teeth buzzing with the force of it all. The wetness of your orgasm soaks the inside of your thighs and drips down onto the sheets. Morpheus watches closely as it leaves you in a panting mess and feels himself become undone, releasing himself into the deepest part of you.

He stays like that for a few moments, relishing in the warmth of your sex. When he does pull out, the mixture of your two arousals slowly seeps out, joining the puddle on the sheets. He calms his breathing, going back to tracing the art on your spine. You collapse in a heap of flesh and bones, using the last bit of your energy to turn over and lay on your back. Morpheus crawls over you, his hand never leaving your skin as he cups your face.

“No more lovers but you,” You promise as he places a soft kiss on your lips.

“I could never control you even if I wanted to, but… thank you,” He says as he accepts your promise.

Morpheus falls beside you and pulls the blankets over both of your bodies, pulling you close so you would be flushed against his side. By now the sun has long since set and the two lovers share each other’s embrace in the company of stars.

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This was my poor attempt at understanding physics and trying to personify a concept like a singularity

♡ Yours, Layla

#the sandman #dream of the endless #morpheus #morpheus x reader #dream x reader #the sandman fanfic #dream of the endless x reader #the sandman x reader #sandman x reader #morpheus x reader smut #dream of the endless x reader smut #dream of the endless smut #26 ways of taking you #dream the endless #dream the endless x reader #morpheus smut

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mercurycft · 2 months

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𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 - 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆

series masterlist - here!

OLD FRIENDS REUNITED IN LONDON

HALLIE KING REUNITES WITH MELBOURNE CITY TEAMMATE, STEPH CATLEY, AFTER FOUR YEARS APART IN THE FOOTBALL WORLD

•°. *࿐

LONDON, ENGLAND

HALLIE.

at the start of the session, after everyone had dispersed from the circle; jonas made it clear that i didn't need to push myself for todays training, told me to take it easy and try to just get into the arsenal rhythm. to be honest, i wish i had listened to him - because now, im laid flat on the grass. the sun bombarding me, heat pricking at every square inch of my skin.

i felt like a rookie all over again, as if i was watching my idols for the first time. i saw them sprint, so i sprinted. if i saw a ball coming to me, i made damn sure i was going to be on the end of it. i tried my hardest, and put my all into everything i did on that pitch. as well as in the gym. now, however, i was regretting it.

steph came and flopped next to me on the grass, laughing at my disheveled state as i inhaled my drink. "i told you it got hot here!"

"yeah but aussies have a warped view of hot, steph! i actually think i'm melting!" we laughed in agreement, steph tapping my forehead condescendingly before i shoved her off. we sat in a comfortable silence, listening to the heaving of our chests.

after a few minutes, we were joined in our spot. katie and caitlin sitting to the right of me, beth and viv next to steph and jen ahead of me.

"how did you find it, pops?" caitlin asked, hand on her foot as she stretched out on the grass.

"it was good, it felt nice to be pushed for a change," i smiled up into the nothingness of the big blue above me, arms outstretched beside me.

"you did great," steph said from beside me, cheesing with her eyes closed.

"you really did, glad to see you slotting right in." jen added, patting me on the ankle.

"big moments coming with this one, i can feel it!" beth smiled to me, raising her eyebrows.

"thank you all, i really appreciate it, feeling the love," i added, lifting my hands to fan myself- partially from the head, partially to fight away the blush that had crept onto my already red face.

"oh you are so welcome, pops," steph teased, poking me in the side of my thigh until i swatted her hand away.

"does anyone actually ever call ye' your name?" katie asked after a minute or so of our shoving and pushing, making me and steph laugh. i sat up to face her and the others.

"only my grandparents," i started, smiling fondly. "steph only ever called me hals, which then turned into hallipops, which then turned into pops, and now sometimes i only get p," i laughed, poking steph in the ribs every time i listed a new nickname. "but i like it, it's never really been an issue," i continued, lifting my hand to shield my squinting eyes as the afternoon sun semi-blinded me.

we carried on our conversations, exchanging humour and jokes until jonas requested the attention of the group once more. almost everyone had retreated outside after the gym session, gagging for fresh air and the occasional summer breeze.

"well done today ladies, see you all tomorrow afternoon!"

back in the changing rooms, everyone had migrated into groups, changed into their 'normal people' clothes and began chatting among themselves. most of the team is still present, some still packing away their things. steph sits beside me, shoving her boots into her bag and chatting away.

"do you think they'd like that?"

"hals, they would love that! i swear, just say it and worst case scenario it's just me and you, okay?" i nod in acknowledgment of her words, taking a moment to look around before i speak up.

"everyone? hi, hello, yeah really gorgeous aussie girl trying to get your attention," i joke, waving my hand and ignoring steph's eyes almost rolling out of her head. the girls around us turn to face me, laughing and shaking their heads. "first, i wanna say thank you for all being so welcoming-"

"bumlick," steph grunts, then slaps a sickly smile on her face when the room laughs. she's met with my middle finger.

"-and nice! secondly, i have a lovely new garden which needs breaking in. i'd love to have you all round this afternoon, or evening, if you'd like to! i'd love to get to know you all over barbecue food.. and maybe a few drinks," my new teammates littering the room cheer, and laugh as katie whistles through her fingers at the announcement of drinks.

"i'd love to,"

"count me in!"

"ill be there,"

"we'll come!"

"great! ill see you all later, ill have steph text you guys my address and any details! make sure to let anyone not here know they are also invited!"

•°.

three hours later and im home, stressed. steph lays on my bed unfazed by the chaos unfolding around her. my clothes litter the bedroom floor, jeans and dresses scattered across the bed as i try and dig through my wardrobe to find something to wear.

"pops, i don't know why you're stressing!"

"i'm stressing because i need to make a good first impression!" i huff like a child, throwing myself onto the floor.

"you've already made a good first impression! you've already met them for god's sake!"

"that's not the same and you know it!" i whined, "i made the house look nice, i can't look like a slob!"

"you don't!" i nodded with a frown towards her. "right, put on those denim shorts," she pointed, "with that big top," pointed again "with that belt, put on some socks, put your hair down, wear the sunglasses you got in malta- done! you don't need to fuss all the time!"

i groaned knowing she was right, yanking each of the pieces she had pointed out off of the floor and stomped into the bathroom. i took a breath to compose of myself, and pulled each of the articles on clothing onto my body.

i emerged from the body with an exaggerated expression, fanning my hands about and posing for steph. i don't know why i was so stressed, i wasn't going to the ritz - i'm only going downstairs.

i pulled a pair of socks on as we chatted, and slipped the sunglasses onto my face. announcing to an overly hot steph, who now laid sprawled out on my bed on top of all my crap, that i was ready. we made our way downstairs, steph connecting her phone to my speaker as we started taking things outside ahead of people's arrival.

my house isn't big, but it's enough for me right now. tucked away into a small residential area, away from the hustle and bustle of the big city. the garden is my favourite, probably the main reason i chose the place. it's the perfect size, with a slabbed path and sections of fake grass on either side. there's a little sheltered area over the decking by the back door, which makes a perfect home for my plants and a little bench.

on the grass is some deck chairs, some wooden, some plastic, some probably as old as me. i set them out in no real pattern, placing cushions on some of the seats and the rest on the grass- i try to circle around the coffee table we've taken outside, which is covered in coasters, crisps and some sweeties.

the barbecue is in the corner, which isn't actually mine, its actually gary's from next door - who was nice enough to let me borrow it for the evening.

after a bit of altering, i smile at my cosy creation and make my way back inside to steph; who seems to have helped herself to the cider in my fridge.

"didn't get me one then," i roll my eyes, making my way to grab one for myself. i pour it into a glass with some ice as the doorbell rings, i take a calming breath.

"it's open!" i pause "unless you're a murderer!"

"not a murderer, just scottish," jen humours me as she shuts the door behind her. "sick house mate, literally unreal," she compliments as she walks into the kitchen area where me a steph are currently residing, listening to the gentle hums of music through the downstairs.

"glad you came!" i smile and give her a hug, "anything for the fridge?" i ask, pulling away and noticing the bottle in her hand.

"house warming gift," she smiles, jutting the bottle towards me as she leans to give steph a small side-hug and kiss on the cheek.

"you really shouldn't have! thank you," i blow her a kiss and open the fridge again, it opens with a clang from all the bottles stuffed inside. "can i interest you in a drink? cider? beer? wine? other?"

she thinks for a minute, "what beers you got?"

"corona?"

"sorted then." i grab one for her, opening it and handing it to her - which she accepts gracefully and pulls up to her lips.

"lets go outside! i don't want to miss the sun,"

we take our drinks and conversations outside, i sit on a beanbag and jen sprawls on a pillow on the floor. steph on the other hand, sits on a chair, back straight and legs crossed. we chat about our afternoon's apart, laughing occasionally.

over the next hour or so, the rest of the girls arrive. frida and stina first, who i greet with a hug and offer them anything that they fancy from the fridge or ice box. beth and viv are next, who walk in with another box of chocolates and some flowers for me - i think them both profusely and scold them for the unnecessary gifts. alessia, lotte, manu and vic follow them in, thanking me for the invite. teyah, katie and caitlin arrive together too, adding another bottle to my fridge for me to enjoy in my own company. kim and chloe join us after twenty minutes, giving me a hug and taking their positions in the garden.

the sun is beaming down and we're all basking in it, spread around the garden listening to music and enjoying our drinks. we all talk together, some breaking off into their own conversations- others still discussing recent events and sharing humorous stories.

another hour seems to tick by, time completely lost in me in their company. the doorbell sounds throughout the house and i furrow my eyebrows, taking note of almost everyone already in the garden. still, after hesitating, i shout.

"come in, its open!" through the back door, hoping it can be heard over the house. i shrug and turn back to my conversation, listening to kim talk about her time in the last world cup.

"i could hear the music half way down the bloody street," a voice emerges through the back door, bottle in hand and sunnies on her head.

"here she is then!" jen shouts, laughing along with the other girls.

steph perks up from her place on the floor and raises to her feet, rushing to hug the woman in my doorway. "leah, come meet hals!"

i turn my head at the drop of her name, pushing my up and onto my head - pulling my hair away from my face. i study the figure in front of me.

her hair, her clothes, the way her eyes squint in the sunlight as she looks around the garden and says her hello's. the way she chews her gum, smiling tightly at her friends.

eventually she makes her way to me, and i stand up - smiling kindly at her. i swear my heart felt like it was going to break a rib, my lungs seemingly unable to draw a full breath in her presence.

"so you're the mythical hallipops," she teases, smile pulling up beneath her eyes as she opens one of her arms to embrace me.

"that would be me," i laugh, giving steph a middle finger behind leah's back as i accept her embrace. she smells sweet, like fresh vanilla. she pulls away after a moment and hands me another bottle with a smile.

"as an apology for missing your first training, and a welcome to arsenal."

i smile at the gesture. "thank you, ill pop it in the fridge. grab whatever you fancy, make yourself comfy!" i speak as i walk away, hiding myself away in the comfort of my kitchen.

i place the bottle in what tiny bit of room i have left in the fridge and shut it, resting my forehead on the cold of the exterior - hoping it will calm the heat spreading along my skin.

"jesus christ, get yourself together woman!" i hear in a whisper shout behind me. steph. i whip around to face her, raising a finger to my lips to shush her.

"shut up!"

"been here one day and already got the hots for your vice cap, jesus!" she teases.

"i will hit you!"

"you love me,"

"i do, but piss off!" we whisper argue for a minute or two, like teenagers scared to get caught by our parents all over again.

"im going back outside now," i say with a sarcastic smile, flipping her off as i walk out the door.

this isn't a big deal, so i shouldn't make it one. right?

— RG x

181 notes · View notes

cherrychilli · 4 months

Text

18+ Living painting! Steve x F! reader, supernatural AU, monsterfucking (kind of), lil bit of angst, mentions of blood, mentions of bodily injury, oral sex (f), allusions to unprotected PIV sex

WC: 2.9K

A/N: So, I found the painting in the middle on Pinterest and couldn't help thinking that he looked pretty similar to Steve and this happened to be during the time I became interested in writing a monsterfucking fic of my own. It all kind of fell into place that night and I pretty much fell in love with the idea of a Steve who's a literal work of art that comes to life at night and becomes your secret supernatural boyfriend💛 I'm still figuring these two out but this is what I've come up with so far. Enjoy!

One week had passed and the remains of the old picture frame still sat in the waste basket in your kitchen, the ends of splintered poplar jutting up and out of the rim like jagged teeth.

It taunted you like a sneer but you made no move to empty it. Not until you knew for certain if he'd come back or not.

The new frame you'd selected was made of polished, treated pinewood. Sturdy and reliable, you were assured. You only hoped your glassy eyes had nothing to do with how strongly the sales lady had urged you of the frame's durability. Anything to clear you out before the other customers noticed the beginnings of tears wetting your lashes, a part of you suspected.

But the brand-new frame felt firm in your trembling hands. Solid. Sleek. Unbreakable, you hoped. Now all you had to do was wait while doing your best to disregard the many whispers of your neighbors as you passed by them in your apartment building.

"He must have found someone better", Mrs. Owens had muttered haughtily to her husband as you departed the elevator after exchanging forced smiles with the older couple, never knowing how close she'd come to having one of her gaudy gold earrings ripped right out of her lobe had you not managed to contain yourself at the last second.

"I think they might have broken up", you caught Tiffany from 20F's whisper directed at her boyfriend when you walked by them in the hallway, their tight, sympathetic smiles making your stomach churn as you hauled in your grocery bags containing only beer, instant noodles and a pack of cigarettes. The first pack you'd touched in a long time.

"Seriously? I never even got a look at the guy", he'd whispered back to her in a whine.

Sometimes you wondered what kind of image they'd conjured up of Steve. After all, there's only so much you can imagine when all you have to go by is what you can sometimes hear through the walls of your apartment.

That night, you stared at his painting while you sat at the foot of your bed like you had every night for the past week, waiting.

The rip in the canvas that ran up the length of his forearm stared back at you. Looking at it made your own arm sting, like fishing hooks in your skin.

Around you, your apartment had fallen into clutter but you didn't dare try to dust or clean again until you knew for certain if what you'd done had ruined everything for good or not.

"Please come back", you chanted under your breath as the minutes passed, waiting as patiently as you could for 12.00am to arrive. You hoped he'd come out of his frame like he had all those nights before. You hoped those brushstrokes would warp into flesh and blood once again despite the unintended gash marring the painting's canvas. You hoped to feel his warmth under your fingertips tonight.

You craved it.

You needed it.

But he doesn't come.

The clock ticks past 12.10am and you let your eyes slip shut before the tears start again.

When you wake, you see that the time’s 12.56am once you'd managed to blink the sleep fog away from your eyes, finding a sheet draped over your body and your cheek resting on a pillow you hadn't placed there yourself.

Springing up, your throat grows tight, like rope around your windpipe and you very nearly choke at the sight of the empty framed canvas hanging on your bedroom wall, nothing but swathes of buttery yellows, whites and greys pictured where there once was a pale brunette in the foreground too.

The five inch long cut that'd been made when the painting had scraped against the edge of your dresser was absent from the canvas as well, you notice, frantically kicking off your sheets to begin searching your apartment.

He's peacefully clearing up in the kitchen when you find him, a fresh kitchen towel wrapped securely around his forearm but you can see the blood stains seeping through the pale blue cotton from where you stand.

"You're out of bandages", he smiles when he sees you and it nearly makes your knees buckle, the doorframe holding you up as you lean against it for support.

"Does it hurt?", you manage to ask, eyeing the bloodied towel sadly, guilt scraping at you from the inside out like a saw grinding against your bones. It was all your fault.

"Barely", he answers and you almost believe him. Almost.

It's Steve who crosses the distance first because your legs have grown too weak to do so, reaching out with his injured arm to cup your cheek lovingly.

He notices too late that the blood from his wound has managed to trail down to his thumb. A crimson thumbprint stains your cheek and he attempts to wipe it away from your skin but you stop him before he has the chance.

"Don't", you plead. You didn't want to wipe that trace of him away, not after thinking you'd lost him. Not when you want to wear it on you like rubies.

"I could see you the whole time", he tells you, looking all kinds of apologetic for the worry he’d caused you. "Wanted to tear through that damn frame and be with you. I needed to hold you and tell you that I was okay – that you didn't need to cry anymore but this–" he clutches his injured arm. "I don't know why I couldn't come out sooner– I don't understand this– I still don't understand this", he gestures to himself and it's with a deep pang of sympathy that you understand his frustration.

His entire existence was an anomaly. For all the months you had spent together since you'd first discovered him, the both of you were yet to know how it was that Steve came to be. What had brought him to life? what other kinds of limitations were there? what did this all mean for your relationship? The thing is, none of these questions would be answered tonight because none them mattered to you right now. He was here again and that's all that really mattered.

"We don't have to. Not right away at least", you tell him, fisting the front of his white shirt with your hands, clutching him. "Just promise me you'll always come back", you plead softly, voice cracking as you sniff back a sob.

Smiling again, Steve cradles your face with both hands then, returning your adoring gaze with his mossy, cinnamon eyes. "I promise."

You're quick to lean into him after that, your arms winding tight around his waist as his drop lower to wrap around your back, pulling you in closer as you hold each other for a while.

It's no ordinary embrace. You spend those few blissful minutes memorizing every detail; his scent, his warmth, the gentle beat of his heart as you press your cheek to his chest, relishing all the little things about him that you thought you'd lost forever.

And then you're reminded of his injury, the thin, still bleeding slash running down his arm that the two of you are yet to attend to.

"Let me patch you up", you pull back to look up into his eyes, thinking of the spare first aid kit you had tucked away somewhere deep in your closet.

He only smiles back at you in that way that makes it impossible not to feel so cherished, like you’re the only thing he’ll ever treasure in this strange life he’s been granted.

"Later."

Gently, Steve interlaces his fingers with yours, pulling you into the kitchen and guiding you towards the kitchen dining table.

You watch closely as he pushes the clutter that'd gathered there off the table with his free hand, letting the empty grocery bags and more fall to the floor. You don't even have it in you to feel ashamed of the mess, too relieved to have him back, too pleased to give yourself to Steve as he wraps his large hands around the back of your thighs, lifting you up and placing you down on your table with your legs dangling off the edge.

Neither of you are surprised when things begin to take on a feverish, needy haze as your legs spread further for him to step between. His hands find the hem of your old, oversized t-shirt so he can pull it up over your bare breasts and over your head, stripping you of it and tossing it aside, leaving you in just your panties.

Five and a half hours remain until the sun is due to come up and he'll have to climb back into frame again.

It just doesn't feel like enough.

With how badly you've missed him this past week you feel like you'll need an hour just to kiss him, another to let him explore you, one more for you to return the favor and the rest to wrap yourselves around each other – both of you connected, exchanging the same shaky breath back and forth, fanning the flames of each other’s' fire as you take him so deep inside that you'll carry the forthcoming soreness between your legs with a smile.

For now, though, Steve's kisses start off slow and lazy. Soft licks swipe along your bottom lip before you grant him entry into your mouth and his tongue finds yours, wrapping around it all languid and sloppy. It doesn't take long for him to begin sucking on it gently, eagerly swallowing down the many moans that rise up from your throat when his fingers start to pinch and pull at your hardened nipples.

It's impossible to keep from squirming when he touches you like this, knowing exactly where you're most sensitive and how best to stimulate you. It almost feels like he's weaponized all the knowledge he’s accrued during your time together, circling your nipples with his thumbs, bringing you right up to the cusp of just enough but purposefully withholding more – dangling your pleasure out of arm's reach

Unable to tame your greed because, how could you? how could anyone after what you’ve been through? you try to seek out more. You arch your back and push your chest out to meet Steve’s hands but all that does is make him pull away from your lips, a gentle chuckle working its way up his throat.

"Not yet, baby, not yet. Be a good girl and I'll treat you right."

You’re just about ready to pout and give him your most imploring, desperate Bambi eyes but he attaches himself to your neck next, teeth grazing your pulse point, lips forming a tight seal on your skin as he sucks fresh hickeys on to the surface.

Head lolling back, you can already imagine the sour scowl sure to twist Mrs. Owens' face when she sees the result of Steve’s work tomorrow, a grin emerging on your face as you plan to display the hickeys proudly instead of make any kind of effort to conceal them later.

But just as quickly as the thought had emerged, it falls to the wayside as Steve begins to grow less gentle, his lips leaving your neck as he urges you to lay your back flat against the table. Your own touches are growing more insistent as you help him rid himself of his shirt too, running your hands up the plane of his soft stomach, fingers trailing through his thick chest hair, loving the way it tickles your palms when you do so.

Leaning over you, he begins his descent down your body by pressing one last hot kiss at your neck and then two more between your breasts and on your stomach, gently pushing your knees further apart as he brings his mouth closer to your clothed cunt. You yield to him easily, soft and pliant under his touch like a bud unfurling its petals, ready to bloom. Your breath catches as his lips kiss up your inner thigh, his tongue seeking out your core, dragging over the damp cotton of your panties when he finds it.

Your reaction is instantaneous, hips twitching and whining for him just how he likes when he hooks his finger around the gusset of your panties, pulling it up so that it sinks firmly between your folds. The bump of your swollen clit is so obvious and easy to find underneath the stretched-out fabric and the curls between your legs peek out around the now tight, narrow strip of material. It feels so vulgar when he plays with you like this – so right because you’ve come to love it so much, even to the point you can’t imagine being touched any other way.

“Steve”, you can’t help the high-pitched rasp your voice has taken on, hips twitching again when he smirks and pulls on your panties hard enough for the material to drag over your clit and make you yelp.

And even now, when you're both so desperate for each other, he takes the time to tease you – loving the way you try to urge him on by wiggling your hips and the near pitiful way you whimper out "please".

"I promise. I'm going to treat you so good, sweetheart. Can you hold on a little longer for me, please? I know baby, I know – I just need to play with her a little bit first, okay? Gonna have my tongue on you soon", he coos sweetly in an attempt to placate you as he reaches for the waistband of your panties next.

You lift up your hips to help him get them off, a fresh flare of heat surging through your cheeks when you notice how he has to peel the sticky cotton from your cunt, catching sight of the glistening webs of slick that stretch from your pussy lips to your ruined underwear.

That self-conscious burn doesn’t remain for very long though because during your time together you've learned that Steve likes it messy. So, you're not surprised when you look up to find his face bright with delight, spreading your legs again once he's got your panties off from around your ankles, placing his thumbs on either side of your puffy lips and pulling you open.

"That's my girl", he mutters, his face so close you can feel his breath fan over your naked cunt. “So beautiful.”

He watches your wet hole clench and flex with an unquenchable fascination while you prop yourself up on your elbows and bite down on your lip, both of you unblinking when he gently pulls up your hood to get a good look at your throbbing clit.

“Aw baby. You’ve needed me badly, haven’t you?”, he looks up from between your legs, licking the pad of his thumb before pressing it against your swelling clit to rub slow circles into the sensitive bead.

You sigh out blissfully at the much-needed stimulation, thankful for it as your toes curl and you begin to nod your head. “Missed you so much”, you tell him through a whimper, nails dragging across varnished walnut.

At your admission, you see him reach between his legs to rub at the tent in his pants, lightly grinding his crotch into his palm for some relief. "I missed you too”, he tells you earnestly, letting loose a deep groan that makes your belly twist and somersault with want.

Watching him only makes the ache between your own legs worse and as if sensing that, Steve gathers your thighs in each hand, placing them over his shoulders.

"I'll never make you wait again", he promises, leaning down low, his tongue slipping inside where you needed him most and just like that, after a week of feeling utterly fractured, like you were nothing more than a collection of shattered pieces in shambles, you’re suddenly made whole once again.

You hated that he couldn't stay with you in bed, both of you naked, sweaty and sticky, legs tangled together. Steve’s chest is practically pasted to your back as you both lay on your side, his arms around your waist, his soft cock against your bare ass, his cum leaking from between your legs and his lips busy at your neck.

His cut has stopped bleeding too, you were relieved to notice, a layer of scar tissue already forming in its place. Add that to the list of peculiar things you were yet to understand about Steve.

With a quick glance at the clock that shifts into a glare, you realize how quickly Steve must leave you with only ten minutes left until sun up. You wanted those minutes to stretch on as slowly as molasses, anything to keep him here beside you just a little longer.

"Let me help you clean up in here tomorrow", he kisses your cheek, pulling you away from the previous bitter thought.

You can still smell yourself on his lips the same way you're sure he can probably smell himself on yours, your tongue heavy with the taste of his spend as you keep swirling the muscle up against the roof of your mouth, sucking the remnants from it.

"Okay", you sigh contently, nuzzling your cheek against your pillow, pressing yourself against his naked form a little more.

"Don't drop me again, okay?", he chuckles against your skin like he can’t help it, his warm breath fanning over you.

You’re quick to pinch him on one of the arms he’s got wrapped around your waist. "Don't even joke about that. I thought I lost you", you turn to face him with a pout, one he's quick and plenty eager to kiss away with a smile.

"You didn't. You won't. I'm yours, always."

#steve harrington #steve harrington smut #stranger things #stranger things smut #steve harrington x reader

230 notes · View notes

deathshallbethelastenemy · 1 year

Text

something's made your eyes go cold (6)

TEEN!gojo x FEM!reader but mostly TEEN!geto x FEM!reader (platonic) - soulmate AU

TW⚠️: geto suguru defects soooo be warned, reader is not a sorcerer, geto is beyond mean, angst/hurt, gojo does not show up at the end, friends to enemies, mentions of sex, and loss of virginity off screen (from gojoxreader)

a/n: special chapter for my fav criminal💜 this is not proofread!!!!!

something's gone terribly wrong

Geto Suguru appreciated Satoru's soulmate, besides him, his best friend would have another constant in his life. Someone else who would care for him unconditionally, and just like Suguru vowed to protect Satoru - he vowed to protect her. He was strong after all, and the strong must protect the weak.

When Satoru wasn't there, it was Suguru who would keep her safe from curses; curses that reared their ugly heads when Satoru wasn't around. They were far more daring when she was alone, even if Suguru was with her. He was nowhere near as fearsome as his best friend, but he handled the curses just fine without him.

Let the curses underestimate him, it made them easier to deal with, easier to keep her safe from harm.

If Gojo Satoru was on a mission and Suguru was still in the city, then he would routinely check up on her - Satoru couldn't warp at long distances yet, so if anything happened to her, he would not make it in time, so Suguru took it upon himself to be her protector. She needed it and Satoru needed her, and Suguru cared for them both deeply.

Sept. 19, 2006

' ' it's getting dark and it's all so quiet ' '

A curse tried to latch itself onto her when Satoru was cities away on mission, Suguru exorcised it expertly, with her back turned to him without even realizing she was ever in danger.

A soft smile graced his lips, "Everything alright?"

She jumped at his gentle voice, not realizing he was behind her, "Ah, Geto," she returned his gentle smile, "I didn't see you there. I'm alright, you?"

"I'm doing fine," Suguru looked up at the cloudy sky, "Come on, it looks like it's gonna rain. I'll walk you home."

The walk was full of light and awkward chit chat, despite Suguru's best efforts to be friendly. He supposed he shouldn't be too surprised, they had only met a couple of times; he supposed it would take time for her to warm up to him, at least she wasn't given him the cold shoulder like had been to Satoru. Suguru never put in a good word in for his best friend, he had said awful things about her - Satoru deserved her silent treatment.

Suguru wasn't too worried about it though. They were soulmates and while he didn't understand it, he had always admired it. He was even proud of Satoru for discarding his old and stupid opinions of her and actually putting in work to try and win her over.

"Thank you, Geto," She awkwardly waved goodbye to him when they arrived outside her family's bakery.

Suguru only smiled, "No problem."

He turned to leave and scrunched his nose up the gray sky. He was going to get caught in the rain for sure.

Oh well, "See ya."

Suguru's phone buzzed in his pockets:

Gojo.S: thank you :)

The shops bell chimed, and then, chimes again, and she yelled for him.

Suguru tilted his towards her, half-shocked, she had never called out to him before, but there she was with her hands outstretched towards him - a clear plastic umbrella and a styrofoam to go box.

Suguru gingerly took them from her hands, "Thank you."

Her cheeks were slightly pink when their hands brushed, "It's the least I could do. Thank you again for walking me home."

With that, he left with the protection of the umbrella from the rain and hot pastry warming up his hand.

His phone buzzed again:

Gojo.S: no way, she likes you more than me, right???

Gojo.S: I'll fight you >:( don't think that I won't

Suguru chuckled and rolled his eyes.

Geto.S: guess that means she has better taste than I thought

A flurry of rushed texts blew up his phone - worth it.

Nov. 28, 2006

' ' i thought i had you figured out ' '

A text had woken him up in the morning. Suguru was expecting it to be Satoru, sending him photos of his lastest mission away from Tokyo, but no, it was ______.

____._: sorry to bother you so early in the morning, but do you know what sweets are satoru's favorites and his favorite flavored cake???

____._: he never says he just eats anything sweet

That certainly sounded like Satoru.

Suguru yawned as he typed out:

Geto.S: He's a glutton

Geto.S: I'm sure anything will be fine but he does prefer kikufuku as for the cake - angel cake seems to be the best option

He rubbed his eyes and slid his phone closed, he needed to change into his uniform - wait... no, he needed to shower first.

His phone buzzed in his night stand. He gave it a quick look over, before he ridded himself of his clothes and hopped in the shower:

____._: thank you!!!! I owe you big time :D

____._: you like soba right?? My treat!

Suguru was glad, she felt like she could rely on him. He wanted to be relied on, if she relied on him, the easier it was to keep her safe from anything that tried to grab her in the darkness.

There had been too many close calls and it all reminded him of - No, she was not Riko. Suguru would not make the same mistakes.

When he got out of the shower and changed, he texted her back.

Geto.S: We can go shopping together

Geto.S: Are you free at 4:15?

Thirty minutes later she texted back:

____._: yep, where do you wanna meet?

Geto.S: I'll meet you at your school

Geto.S: We'll leave from there

____._: See you then :D

Suguru was right on time waiting outside of her school gates. He kept his eyes trained on curses energy residuals, and the curse dwelling on at the school - none of them were powerful, none of them posed a real threat to anyone.

Good, he could rest easy for now.

A bag slung around her shoulder, she enthusiastically waved at him as she ran up to him with a bright smile quirking her lips up, "Geto!"

Suguru's smile was as it always was soft, but this time he wasn't tip-toeing around her, afraid he would scare her away.

They were friends.

Of course, he kept things from her like the curses that tried to hurt her, but so did Satoru, but he supposed, Satoru didn't need to - nothing dared to touch her while he was around her. She couldn't even see them, so Suguru didn't feel the need to worry her about it, especially when he would protect her from it. She was already worried about Satoru as it was, no point in adding something else on to the list.

She chewed on her lip, "His mission isn't too dangerous is it?"

Suguru placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, "No, he will be back in two days tops."

Still, she closed her eyes to check on him. He didn't blame her if he had felt Satoru die, he would check on him all the time.

She quickly blushed in embarrassment when she realized Suguru was watching, "I'm not a stalker -"

Suguru laughed.

Her cheeks burned into darker and brighter shade of red, "Don't laugh at me! I'm just -"

"Worried?" He chuckled out, "Come on, worry wart. If I remember correctly you owe me a soba."

Today, a curse user tried to sneak up behind her. To take her or kill her, Suguru didn't know. Not that it mattered, he pummeled him into a bloody pulp and called a window to take him back to jujutsu tech where he would wait trial by the higher ups.

Execution, no doubt. Suguru didn't care that's what the curse user gets for trying to pick on the weak, and on his best friend's soulmate no less. If anything, Suguru considered him lucky - it would've gone worse for him if Satoru had been the one to catch him. Forget about being beatened to a bloody pulp, imagine getting erased with a shot of hollow purple? Very lucky.

"Geto," she called out to him as she showed him a shirt, "what about this one?"

Suguru pocketed his bruised knuckles, "Yeah, he'll like that one."

She cheerfully skipped to the cash register and waited for the man to ring her up.

Suguru's eyes narrowed at the man, he seemed normal, but something was bothering him. Suguru was behind her in a few quick steps, his face seemingly expressionless when he took the bag from the clerks hand, before she could even raise her hand to grab it for herself.

The clerk waved them off as both teenagers said thank you, but Suguru lagged slightly behind her with his hand on the small of her back, keeping his senses trained on the clerk until they were at a safe distance, but then he saw a woman standing ominously a little ways away from them. A glance behind him and he saw the store clerk - shit. This was fine, nothing he couldn't handle, but his friend would no longer be blissfully ignorant about the dangers that were lurking around her.

"Yo!"

Suguru's shoulders visibly relaxed. The grip on her waist loosened as he waved at Gojo Satoru. The girl's smile widened into something more joyful as she wrapped her arms around Satoru's torso, pulling him into a warm hug.

Satoru rested his head on top of hers as he always did now and only kept one arm around her, but still hugged her close to his chest.

"You're back early," Suguru raised his fist and Satoru fist bumped him in greeting.

Satoru grinned, "It was easy peasy."

She peered her head up from his chest with the warmest smile, "So you're not hurt?"

"Nah," Satoru placed a gentle kiss on her forehead, "nothing can touch me."

But Suguru was the flicker in his best friend's eyes, not much concern for himself, but for her, and Suguru knew why Satoru had come back early and why he had no doubt finished his mission as quickly as possible; Satoru had seen the store clerk for what he truly was through her eyes.

Suguru remembered the time, he had asked Satoru, if closing his eyes would leave him vulnerable. Satoru had smirked and smugly said:

"Nope, my six eyes work just fine. It just takes a little more focus."

Satoru's smugness was all Suguru needed to know that it took no effort at all to do what he does when he looks through her eyes, especially when he does it constantly.

Suguru casted his gaze back in front of him, the woman was gone and he could no longer sense the store clerk.

Of course, they were gone. One thing was fighting Geto Suguru, it was another fighting Gojo Satoru.

She tip-toed and kissed Satoru's cheek.

Suguru smirked, "I thought you two weren't dating?"

She turned pink, "We're not."

"Yet," Satoru added with a smug smile.

After they dropped her off home and Satoru begrudgingly let her go, (Suguru didn't know why he was pouting so much seeing as he was most likely going to see her tonight) Satoru pout widened into a grin.

"I have a plan."

Suguru let out a hearty laugh when he explained what his plan was - Operation: Love Quest.

Oh, he couldn't wait to tell Shoko.

Feb. 12, 2007

' ' i have known it all this time ' '

Valentine's Day was approaching and Suguru was now a victim of Satoru's incessant shopping sprees. Nothing was too much for his soulmate, he needed to get her everything.

Flowers (she liked pink peonies the most, Suguru learned recently), chocolates, sweets, dresses, jewelry, more sweets, and god knew what else.

"You've gotten her enough," Suguru yawned sleepily, "don't you think?"

Satoru was looking at a simple princess cut diamond ring, scratching his head.

Suguru playfully shoved him, "And it's a little too soon for an engagement ring."

Satoru tilted his head toward him with a frown and was slightly offended, "I would never get her a 0.10 carat diamond for an engagement ring," he grumbled, "It's far too small."

Suguru leaned against the glass counter, "I get this is your Valentine's with her, but you're over doing it just get her something you know she'll like."

"What type of girl doesn't like diamonds?"

"The type that'll feel bad when you get her a mountain of presents, when she only got you like three." Suguru said, "Not everyone has generational wealth to sustain them."

Satoru's pointed look softened as he smiled widely, "She got me three?"

Shit, Suguru wasn't supposed to tell him, "Yes, and I'm not telling you more."

"That must mean she really likes me, huh," Satoru's eyes glittered brighter than any precious stone in the store, "as the best boyfriend ever I have to at least get her twice as that."

"You already have." Suguru sighed, "Triple, I'd say."

Satoru ignored him, "Yo, sir! Sir! Sir!" He tapped the glass annoyingly, "That one!"

The jeweler smiled, "What size?"

"Shit, I don't know her ring size."

Satoru turned Suguru and before he could say anything, Suguru had slid his phone open and called her.

She answered at the second ring, "What's up?"

"You free right now?"

"Yeah."

Satoru started whispering, "Don't tell her to meet you here."

Suguru pushed his face away from his and gave her a meeting time.

The jeweler gave him a ring size measurer and with that Suguru left to meet her.

When she wasn't looking he would look at her fingers and take out the measure trying to gauge which size it was after careful deliberation, be concluded a size 5.

After an hour or so, she had to leave - something about an essay and homework she had to work on before Valentine's Day.

Suguru sent one of his curses with her to make sure she got home safe.

Satoru berated him when he got back, "What size?"

"Five," Suguru handed the measure back to the jeweler.

"That one," Satoru grinned out and then dragged Suguru to another shop.

It was going to be a long day of shopping again.

Apr. 4, 2007

' ' oh, holding my breath ' '

Shoko had stolen ______ for the day, claiming she needed a break from Satoru.

"You're beyond clingy," Shoko said, "Don't want her breaking up with you because you never gave her space right?"

Satoru's eyes widened, "Did she tell you that?"

Shoko being Shoko, said, "Maybe."

So there Satoru was fighting the urge to call or text his soulmate.

"Shoko was lying, right?" He asked Suguru, "Ain't no way, she wants to break up with me, right?"

Suguru drank his hot tea, "I'm sure she was just joking."

Or maybe she wasn't, but Suguru didn't want to tell Satoru what ______ had told him in private.

It wasn't that she didn't like him anymore, it was the incessant thoughts in her mind. Thoughts she couldn't push away any longer and as much as she cared for Satoru, he would never understand. Suguru would do though, he always understood.

She had been nervous at first, texting him to meet with him privately at a cafe without Satoru knowing, he was out on a mission anyway, he was focusing his six eyes on finding the curse, instead of closing his eyes to see where she was, but in the end, she faced up, after Suguru coaxed it out of her with soft smiles and a promise not to laugh.

"You have to promise again, not to laugh," She said.

He wanted to laugh now, but he knew she would shut down if he did, "I promised already."

"Again."

"Alright," pressed his lips together to keep himself from chuckling, "I promise, will you tell me now?"

She wondered a lot about how she should phrase it. Worthy? Good enough? Holding him back? Which word encapsulated what she felt when she saw a curse through Satoru's eyes, but could never see them on her own.

Worthless was the word she was looking for, she realized that a few weeks ago.

She bit the inside of her cheek, Suguru would for sure tell Satoru, if she started the conversation like this, so instead, she said, "It's not a problem, is it that I'm not a sorcerer," she played with the straw in her drink, "or that I can't see curses - I mean -"

Suguru stopped her before she could get in any farther, "Satoru was an idiot when he said that." Suguru smiled in the way that made everyone feel accepted, "He never meant any of that."

Yes, he did. At the time they both knew that he did, but she didn't say anything.

"Things are different now," Suguru scooted his chair closer to hers, "Satoru cares about you a lot, I know he does." He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder and rubbed soothing circles on her, "He'd throttle even me if it meant to keep you safe."

And Suguru was proud of him. His best friend was finally turning into the person he knew he could become - he was still annoying and arrogant, but he was no longer cruel and dismissive of others.

She let out a laugh, "I don't think he would go that far."

"I do," Suguru said firmly. "A lot of people can't see curses or jujutsu, it's not something to be ashamed of and Satoru has enough cursed energy and strength for the both of you."

She shook her head, "And when he's not here?" She looked at Suguru, "What then? I'm not stupid, you know, I may not be able to see curses, but I know whenever Satoru shows up randomly or when you show up to walk me all the way home - It's for a reason." She crossed her arms, "Shoko does it too, but she has a better poker face."

Suguru should've known that she knew. It had been months, it would've been odd if she hadn't noticed their overprotectiveness from even Shoko.

"You're our friend, ______," Suguru said, "we just want to make sure you're safe."

"I know. It's just -" She let out a long breath.

"Frustrating?"

She nodded, and then a bashful look, "Promise, you won't tell Satoru?"

Suguru smiled again, "I promise, but I do think you should talk about it with him." He drank some of his tea, "I'm sure he'll listen if it's coming from you."

But until then, Suguru was there to listen. Sometimes all someone needed was a friend.

Satoru's voice brought him back to the present, "She hasn't said anything to you right?"

Suguru rolled his eyes at him, "She's not going to break up with you."

"Did she tell you that?"

"Satoru," Suguru warned, "she's probably just stressed. Exams are coming up, aren't they?"

Satoru nodded, "Yeah..." He pulled out his phone from pocket and flipped it open as a smile graced his lips, "I'll help her study after she's done hanging out with that traitor that should relieve some of her stress."

Suguru doubted that would help since exams weren't what was plaguing her mind, but other more complicated things. If it got too far, he would tell Satoru. He might get punched in the face or a reversal Red shot at him, but it would be for the best.

Jul. 24, 2007

' ' something keeps me holding on to nothing ' '

Satoru had punched him in the face when Suguru told him. All this time Suguru knew why she was acting weird, he had known for months and he hadn't told him. It would've been different if she had told Shoko and Shoko didn't tell him, but Suguru? Suguru who was always supposed to have his back - it was betrayal.

Satoru put up two fingers and almost chanted: Curse Technique Reversal: Red, but stopped himself.

"Is she still talking to you about it?" He gritted out.

"No," Suguru rubbed his swollen cheek, "she wanted to tell you herself, but I think she's scared to bring it up."

Scared? Why would she be scared of bringing something like this up to Satoru? He was her boyfriend, her soulmate - she shouldn't have, had to feel scared to tell him anything. He would have listened, he promised to himself that night when he was all bloody that he would.

"I promised I wouldn't say anything," Suguru said, "but you two do need to talk about it."

Satoru ran his hand through his soft white hair and closed his eyes. He frowned when he saw her writing an essay down on a piece of paper - she was home.

Suguru spoke up again, "Do you want to hit me again?"

Satoru sighed and opened his eyes to look at his best friend, "No," he fixed his glasses, "just don't keep something that important from me again."

Satoru warped away, no doubt to talk to his soulmate. Suguru only hoped he had told him in time, before more damage could be done for his friends.

It was night when Yaga had knocked on Suguru's door.

"Where's Satoru?" Yaga gruffed out, "He hasn't been here all day."

Suguru always covered for him and he wasn't going to stop now, "He went for some sweets, you know how he gets."

Yaga shook his head, not believing a word that came out of Suguru's mouth, but he left anyway.

Suguru looked at his phone and thought about calling Satoru, but shook his head. He probably wasn't coming back til later, so Suguru fell asleep instead.

He woke up at noon with a grinning Satoru at the foot of his bed instead.

Suguru blinked as he assessed him, at least he didn't look heartbroken, instead overjoyed and a little smug. Satoru's snowy white hair was a mess as if someone had raked their hands through it roughly, his glasses were askew, and his lips were swollen and smudged with pink lip gloss smearing across cheek to his neck as his neck had deep red and purple marks that shaped into a heart, and his clothes looked a mess.

Suguru chuckled, "I take it things went well?"

"She said she loves me," Satoru squeaked out in glee.

Suguru pulled his long black hair back, "And?"

Satoru's grin had softened, yet it stayed plastered on his face, "I said I love her too."

Suguru pointed at hickeys that shaped into a heart, "That's all?"

"We had sex," then, Satoru playfully shook his head and sang lowly, "No, we made love."

Suguru almost vomited at that, "Go take a shower lover boy."

Satoru walked backwards as he skipped happily into his dorm room and yelled, "I am a lover boy!"

Sept. 2007

' ' come on, don't leave me like this ' '

She had just finished mopping the bakery's floor when Suguru came in, his long hair was down with only a small bun tying some of the more unruly parts of his hair.

She waved at him, "What's up, Geto?"

His smile wavered when he saw her like this was the first time he had seen her.

"Is something wrong, Geto?"

"Yes actually," Suguru frowned, "I want to talk to you."

She dropped the mop in the bucket and wiped her hands on her apron, "What is it? What happened?"

Maybe, she should text Satoru - No, he was there for her a couple of months ago, she should be here for him now.

"I think you were right before," Suguru pocketed his hands, "about it being a problem - you not being a sorcerer."

"What are you saying?"

Suguru ignored her, "I think you weren't saying the right words before," his eyes told and black, "instead of a problem, I think you meant a pest, a worthless one."

Her eyes widened, "Geto -"

Suguru's eyes hardened into a glare, "Don't interrupt me," he paused for a second like he was about to add something else, but stopped himself, before continuing, "all this time you were worrying that you were holding Satoru back, you were right."

Tears welled in her eyes, "I told you all of that in confidence." She flinched back when Suguru took a step toward her, "You're my friend."

"I was never really your friend," Suguru spat out, "I realized that I only ever really tolerated you for Satoru."

"Stop," she whispered putting her hands up as if she could stop his words from reaching her, "just stop it. Satoru and I talked about this already - he loves me."

She blinked her tears away. If this is how Suguru truly felt, then he wasn't allowed to see her vulnerable, only Satoru and people she trusted were allowed to.

Suguru stalked up to her, until she was backed up against a wall. She quickly flinched to the side when Suguru's hand shot up to the empty space behind her and for a second, she heard something squirming and writhing in his hand.

Suguru gave her one last cold look before purple blood splattered on the walls, "This is the last time I save you, ______."

' ' i can't turn back now, i'm haunted ' '

Gojo: You really hurt her feelings and she's been crying non-stop -

Geto: Womp-Womp

Gojo: Did you just FUCKING say womp-womp?!

@phoenix666stuff @96jnie @mr-underhills-things @whatamidoing @wbad-world @ancientimes @whippedbyikemen @sammyiguess (can't find you sorry) @pumpkindudeishere @witchofthecoffee @arminswifee (another one that cannot be tagged sorry) @weebotaku21 (another one I do not understand why) @nevermoresworld @jjk97091 (cannot tag you sorry) @toshirolovebot @marblesphere @sabo-has-my-heart @laurenzitaa

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tgirlrobot · 26 days

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Karyn Felicidae, Third Floret was a very sneaky floret. She knew that if Mistress had caught her in the act she'd probably be punished in an absolutely embarassing way, but she didn't want to dwell on that while she carefully cut a small piece of ribbon. The last time Maryn was caught with scissors, and god forbid, cutting some material, she was put into a doll-body with no motor control for a week! Mistress was especially mean to her during that time, making her say such embarrassing things like how she "loved her Mistress so much" and that "she would always be a good girl" and and and...

A small mental hiss of xenodrugs stopped the thoughts from going off-course. her spine-friend, her Haustoric Implant, she reminded herself. She needed to stay on travk while she built this... what was it she was building again? No matter. She laid the ribbon into a bath of ichor-black goop before placing it on the handheld structure, smiling as it contracted into a small, loose curl before the substance grew transparent, showing the shining silk underneath.

"Darn 'fini and their dumb... stuff." Karyn muttered to herself as she placed a green rod into the contraption, nodding to herself as she watched everything warp around it, accepting the additional mass and shifting it about, adding onto the figure in front. This was absolutely helping her escape plans of finally rejoining her crew before launching her attack on the stars-darned evil plants that gave her this pretty dress and fancy collar...

Who knows what they've done to her head, though! She might be a brainless slave working in the mines and all this was right now was a machination of her mind! Perishing that simply idioitic thought, Karyn simply fitted the final piece of glass into the masterpiece of an escape tool before leaning back, taking in the full thing in all its two-foot wonder. Green strips of material swung around and around, creating ropes and intricate patterns implying a greater depth to the humanoid model. Moss and red ribbon laid on the top, creating a facsimile of terran hair. Half-moon glasses sat in front of a pair of diamond gemstone eyes.

"Perfect!" A voice harmonied Karyn's, looking upon the mkdel figure of herself. "Look at all that detail, pet! Aren't you proud~!"

Karyn turned around to see her. Mistress Dandel Felicidae, 12th bloom, clapping a pair of woven vined hands together excitedly. The doll in her hands being a significantly downscaled version of the being towering over her. "Fear me, plant lady! My escape is assured woth this!" Karyn pushed the doll towards Dandel, who simply laughed in reaction.

"Of course it is, sweetie! Now come on, let's get you to go for a bath~ then you'll totally get rescued by your pinnates!" Dandel replies, picking up the doll with a single vine, to add to the collection on a shelf of "escape tools", like the adorable knitted sweater she got for her Coreday, or a bookmark made so she wouldn't lose her place in the adorable floret's domestication contract.

"Can we use the purple class A shampoo again? Please?" Karyn batted her eyes as the both walked to the bathroom. "The overnet said it makes me immune to head scritches! And the "class A" meant "Anti-Affini"!"

Dandel laughed jovially. Making a closed overnet where it was only her and the floret was the best decision ever. "Of course petal. You're surely going to be unstoppable if you're immune to head-scritches~"

Funnily enough, Karyn Felicidae was never immune to head scritches, and lost tonight's game of "can she escape the compact" (she never wins~)

#human domestication guide #hdg #fluff #had the idea of floret who thinks their building a weapon only to see it as the cuddle-nator 3600 like it should have been and ran with it #oops

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ms--lobotomy · 2 months

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First comm done, this one some headcanons for a fem!Perpetual!reader from the 3rd millenium for anon! Guilliman and Fulgrim included, SFW and NSFW. Hope you enjoy!

(Themes of enemies-to-lovers in both relationships, but nothing too violent. Some fireballs. Some shibari.)

GUILLIMAN

SFW

There is no way that this relationship is healthy at first. Even before they begin to date, they clash often. Her strong sense of justice goes against his ideals of serving his purpose without question, but their respective statuses make it so that they are forced to rub elbows more than they would like.

Since the dating market is so small for people like them, they have to make do with each other. Guilliman comes up to her first, and she is appalled at the proposition. She accepts.

At first he’s constantly telling her how to act in public, much to her dismay. This may end up with a fireball to the head, but not one so severe it singes more than the top of his hair.

He doesn’t like when she makes eye contact with him. He knows she’s looking into his soul, and it makes him feel something resembling guilt. As the relationship goes on, the guilt is less that he’s been caught and more genuine.

One time, he takes her to the side and tells her how he loved that she makes him feel human. She is taken aback at first, but the rare show of sincerity is a welcome gift. She takes care to be more gentle towards him after he tells her.

She has millenia on him, and he is well aware of it. But just because she has more time on him doesn’t mean she’s spent that time making merry with partners. They can learn how to be good partners together.

NSFW

Sometimes, when everything bubbles over, she and Guilliman need a bit of… stress relief. They need to find a room that can fit a Primarch. The standard 8-foot ceilings of her past are something she’s used to, but something that Guilliman can’t bear with.

One time, she tried to take Guilliman to the warp. It was too much for him. He chides her for it playfully on occasion until she admits to him that she genuinely feels bad. This stops then.

Once they find somewhere private, their grievances with each other melt away as their faces meet. Her small hands reach his hair, and he bites her bottom lip as soft as a Primarch can.

He was elated when he found out that she could grow in size. He could lay with her, and it wouldn’t hurt her nearly as much as if she were her normal height. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t glad she didn’t go often above eight feet tall.

He loves getting his hair pulled, especially when he’s eating her out. Sometimes the laurel wreath slips off. He gets too into the task at hand to care, or even notice sometimes.

He goes wild for her bit of stomach. He loves to run his fingers over it, pressing kisses to it while he closes his eyes and loses himself in loving her body. Having a nice bit of fat is a beauty standard on Macragge, after all.

FULGRIM

SFW

Slightly better than that with Guilliman, as Fulgrim is less outwardly genocidal. He is, however, still a Primarch complicit in the ways of the Imperium. And for that, he is accustomed to getting an earful.

He doesn’t take it sitting down, though. Fulgrim the Perfect is no doormat. He’ll keep up appearances in front of the socialites of the planet, but behind closed doors, he’ll express exasperation at her for ruining a perfectly good diplomatic meeting.

Passive-aggressively leaves her clothes more “becoming” of “someone of her status.” Sometimes in her closet, but as he watches her wear the same strange article of clothing, he gets a little more brazen. The clothes all fit perfectly, even though he’s never asked for your measurements.

One day, she sits him down and explains that it’s a piece of clothing that’s survived ~28,000 years. This fascinates him immensely, and almost immediately he asks his personal tailor(s) to make him one for himself.

Surprisingly soft when she gets to know him. He’s more willing to change than some of his brothers, because the definition of what’s perfect is always changing, and he is more interested in that than maintaining the status quo.

Fulgrim is also an excellent cook, and you’re the first to try each new meal he’s done. Not all of them can be winners, but more often than not, you’re left with a pleasant smile on your face.

NSFW

One thing can be said for certain about their sex life: she has helped Fulgrim get over his need for perfection in the bedroom. Leave that knot, it doesn’t hurt. Or maybe, Your pace is fine. I promise.

He loves to tie her up, especially when she’s closer to his height. He’s already an expert knot-tyer, sometimes his partners of the past have also been into that sort of thing. She convinces him that he doesn’t have to spend ungodly amounts of time on each knot.

He won’t admit that her millenia of experience on him is intimidating. As a Primarch, he prefers to be in control, even in the bedroom. Yet, he’s gentle. He presses into her chest with utmost care, running his hands along her light as a feather.

The foreplay runs long with this man, as he loves the act of preparing his partner. But when he finally starts to fuck her, it’s slow, methodical, and heavenly. More often than not, she’ll find a hand or two held, or Fulgrim’s face pressed to her own.

Ironically, he loves when she lets go in the bedroom as well. He loves hearing all of the little noises she makes, watching her face scrunch up in pleasure as she bounces underneath him. He loves her.

Aftercare is also a must. He’s bigger than Guilliman by a few feet, so he’s more likely to accidentally hurt her. He’ll clean her off, undo each carefully done knot, and cuddle with her. It’s like his experience with his past partners has prepared him for each moment with her.

#warhammer 40k x reader #roboute guilliman x reader #fulgrim x reader #primarch x reader #roboute guilliman #fulgrim #warhammer lobotomy

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remembrancer-of-heresy · 2 months

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His Sun

Summary: After the Monarchy, the Emperor takes Lorgar's wife as punishment. He finds out that she is pregnant and for the first time in millennia remembers love.

Emperor and Lorgar's daughter (OC, platonic), Lorgar/fem!Reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, kidnapping

Word count: 729

Song: Rammstein - Sonne

This fic was born because of this beautiful post.

Of all His sons, Lorgar was most like Him. Every detail of the appearance was amazingly similar. Even facial expressions. And it was this son who became the biggest disappointment. The Primarch of the Word Bearers was too slow to annex worlds to the Imperium. He tried too hard to restore the planets by staying on them for a long time.

But worst of all was the cult of worship of the Emperor as God. The Emperor could not allow such... heresy to spread. Fully aware of what lies the Warp. And the decision to destroy the Monarchy was carried out immediately. Besides Lorgar’s “wife” on Terra will serve as a good lesson for the primarch. He is a weapon, not a man.

The fact that the mortal was pregnant... The Emperor was not a monster. He had no intention of killing a child, especially in the womb. But it could become a hindrance. A distraction for Lorgar. Fortunately, although the child was affected by the warp, it was much less than the primarchs due to a mortal mother. In addition, it later turned out that it was supposed to be born a girl. She won't be much of a hindrance.

Or rather, that's what He thought.

The creation of the primarchs was pragmatic. They were created to protect humanity. The Emperor had no intention of getting rid of them and even planned to create a comfortable life for them on Terra... of course, after they had completed their task. For some of His sons He even felt a similar feeling of affection. Especially to Horus.

But this girl. This girl was not born according to the plan of the Emperor or Chaos. The natural way. She had no task other than just to live. And when the Emperor heard the triumphant cry of life. Something broke in Him. He remembered.

He once had children. Real and beloved from mortal women. In times of peace, when he gave up trying to move humanity forward and allowed the Earth to develop on its own. He adored them and raised them with dignity and intelligence. His sons were His pride. Although He liked girls more. They always looked at their dad with such adoration.

And they all died. They all left Him. And it hurts. A void that nothing can fill. He could no longer allow Himself to love. And yet, seeing this girl, knowing that she should have lived longer because of her father, if not live forever... He gave up.

He simply could not help but look at her sleeping in her cradle. He couldn't help but sing her songs from His childhood. Hold her in His arms. Kiss her forehead when she starts crying. She developed so slowly, so normally, completely humanly. She needed all of His care and love.

Lorgar will get his “wife” back as soon as he starts leading the Crusade properly. A mortal woman was of no value to the Emperor. But the daughter will distract the primarch. He should not hear her first word, see her first steps, tell fairy tales, teach her the wisdom of life, console her and give her his soul.

But the Emperor can do this.

He will make sure that Lorgar's daughter has the best of everything on Terra. His little sun will be raised with dignity in a beautiful Palace. He will help her find her path and purpose, but only on the condition that she will be by His side. Of course, someday a girl will want romance and build her own family. But it won’t be soon and the Emperor will come up with something.

The girl bursts into laughter as soon as her stomach is tickled. Soon her teeth will begin to cut and her wonderful eyes will become moist with tears. But He will always help relieve her pain as long as she is happy. He smiles back, continuing to bathe her small body, continuing His story about centaurs. She doesn’t understand Him yet, but that doesn’t stop Him from having a conversation with her.

He will show her all the wonders of the world. His little treasure will see all the beauty of the galaxy and grow up in a world where humanity will flourish. They will have so much time. A month of Sundays.

He will never let His daughter go.

#warhammer 40k x reader #primarch x reader #emperor x reader (platonic)#tw: kidnapping #tw: yandere #tw: obsession #The Emperor ‘Droit du siegneur’ plotline

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dunmeshichilchuck · 3 months

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For That One Guy on Tumblr part 6

Chilchuck x !fem !halffoot reader

The party trudged through the icy floor they'd found you on.

At one point Laois pointed out where they'd dug you out of the ice. There were what looked like explosions, signs of battle, and a dead ice golem. Ahhh so they'd been fighting something else and your body had just happened to have been uncovered. That made sense.

You spotted a chunk of fabric attached to...something, and shuddered. Looks like they hadn't collected everything. The experience of seeing your own flesh, disconnected and dead was surreal. Maybe you should take it along with you as a souvenir. Laois would probably be all too ready to help you pickle it.

You felt a hand on your shoulder and jumped. Turning, you saw Chilchuck.

"Hey, come on, you're starting to fall behind."

You hadn't even realized you'd stopped to stare at the remains of your death, but the party had indeed started to pull ahead.

Chilchuck turned without another word and you fell in step beside him as you both caught back up to the party.

The door to the next part of the dungeon opened into what looked like one long hallway, bending to the right off in the distance. You stepped through the threshold and immediately shucked off the blanket you'd had to borrow to use as a jacket. It felt wonderfully warm in here.

As the party continued walking you noticed that they had been working together long enough to automatically sort themselves into an order that made sense for combat. Laois was up front with Senshi, the two most durable heavy hitters. Then Marcille, presumably for quick backup and/or healing. Then Chilchuck, who would need to be out of the way of any fighting, and would be best equipped to hear anything sneaking up from behind. Izutzumi drifted around wherever, up in front, back behind, racing ahead and then flopping down and digging a stone out of her shoe. You weren't sure what her role in the party was yet, but she seemed extremely agile and confident, so you'd guess she could hit a lot harder than her skinny frame and lack of obvious weaponry would suggest. They really were all very well coordinated and used to working with each other.

You kept in line with Chilchuck. Both because of all the tactical stuff you'd just run through, and because it was nice to get to chat with another halffoot again. It'd been a year since you'd seen another halffoot when you went into the dungeon, and then another six months or so in the dungeon.

Up ahead Laois and Senshi appeared to be in excited conversation about cooking the remnants of the barometz. From the sounds of it Senshi was looking forward to taking advantage of the tender meat to make delicious stir fry, and Laois was theorizing about the best way to use the plant as bait for larger monsters.

You glanced at Chilchuck. "Laois and Senshi seem to be having fun."

He chuckled. "Yeah they do that. They're both kinda freaks about monsters, Laois MUCH more so. That guy..." He shook his head ruefully. "I mean don't get me wrong, he's a good fighter, and the monster knowledge helps him fight and survive, and he's even picked up some healing magic so he's a good guy to have on your side, but he just does not understand social or cultural norms or how to deal with people. Plus he's just kinda a freak about it."

You nodded. Up ahead, Laois and Senshi dropped their voices a bit and started discussing meals that would be suitable for you to eat until you recovered from revival sickness.

You grimaced. "Ah, have they not..."

"Realized we can hear them even if they think they're too far away? No they haven't, they still think of me as a tallman child after all, I doubt they clock that we can do stuff they can't." He snorted and said. "I bet they think of you as a toddler. After all they already think I'm a kid and you're so much shorter than me."

"Wha- hey!" You spluttered. "I'm not the one that's short, you're ridiculously tall! Being around the tall races has warped your idea of whats normal for sure."

Chilchuck grinned. "Regardless of what's normal for us they're still gonna ruffle your hair first chance they get. Mark my words."

You'd interacted with enough of the other races to know he was probably right. You'd been able to work people underestimating you to your favor sometimes but that didn't mean it wasn't annoying.

Up ahead there was a strangled yelp, like a cat being sat on. Marcille gasped. "Izutzumi!" And started sprinting ahead to where the corridor took a sharp right turn.

Laois and Senshi followed suit. You and Chilchuck followed but quietly dropped back to keep some distance.

You came skidding around the corner to see a very mangled walking mushroom and Izutzumi standing over it looking cranky.

"Izutzumi!" Marcille gasped out. "are you okay?? What happened??"

"I can't stand these things." Izutzumi growled. She turned to Senshi, who was already inspecting the mushroom. "You better not be thinking about putting that into my food! I will NOT be eating-"

You heard a faint series of "chunk" sounds, like a series of very large stones softly falling into place. You whipped your head around, looking for the source. Chilchuck also started glancing around, but no one else reacted. It must have been out of their hearing range.

it didn't take long to find the source. A solid wall had risen up in the corridor you'd just come down, and doors and turns had opened up in the corridor you'd just entered.

Chilchuck turned to Senshi and Izutzumi. "Stop squabbling about that! We've got bigger problems."

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