#wish I could write that fic so I can tell you she’s was born in Savannah but I’d make myself cry

[madsmilfelsen]

so anyways Rust met Claire when she proctored his GED exam

[hazbinwhoree]

Hiya ! Let me tell you first that I love your writings about Adam ! Our angel deserves some attention

I couldn't help but notice that there is a lack of hurt/comfort Adam fics 😠

Sooo I've been thinking (read this with Charlie's voice from the pilot) what about an Adam x reader arranged marriage fic ?

Like Adam is given a new wife from Heaven, he treats her really badly at the beginning but then kinda develops a soft spot for her ? Ending with the fluffiest softest smut you can make ?

Do we have a deal ? 😈

I Wanna Be Yours

Adam supposed he should be grateful, he wasn’t alone anymore, but Lilith and Eve had fucked him up so badly that he wanted nothing to do with his third wife. If he got too close, he’d fall in love, and then she’d leave him. So Adam did the opposite of getting close. He got mean.

(Name) was born yesterday. Created by God to be Adam’s third companion. She was born with pertinent information already in her brain, memories, and free will. Free will, and she still wanted nothing more than to be Adam’s wife.

He was so lonely, but he’d never admit it.

At first, Adam was just cold to her. But when that didn’t deter (Name) from trying to get close to him, he grew mean.

“I don’t want you, bitch!”

“Leave me the fuck alone!”

“Piss off, I hate looking at you.”

It started wearing (Name) down. It hurt, he hurt her, constantly. She was growing to dislike him. She wished she could hate him, but she just couldn’t. It didn’t help that they lived together, though Adam had banished her to the guest room, not willing to share his king size bed.

One day, (Name) gave up. She decided she was done being verbally abused as she followed Adam around like a lovesick puppy. So that day, she didn’t follow Adam. She didn’t leave her house. In fact, she didn’t even leave her bed.

To Adam’s dismay, he was disappointed and slightly concerned when (Name) didn’t show up that day. She always followed him around. All day, every day. Adam hadn’t realized how comfortable he got with it.

When he came home that day, he peaked into her bedroom, finding her asleep. His brow furrowed, wondering why she hadn’t followed him today. Adam was going to ask, but (Name) didn’t wake up until morning.

By day four, after three days of cold silence from (Name), and her still not following him, Adam decided to go home early. He got home around noon to catch (Name) off guard, he was never home around noon.

He snuck into the house but didn’t see her anywhere downstairs. He climbed upstairs and peered into (Name)’s bedroom. Once again, that’s where he found her, still in bed.

“Okay, what the fuck,” he asked loudly, barging into her room.

(Name) jumped. When she registered Adam, she scowled. “Don’t scowl at me, bitch,” Adam spat. Something died in (Name)’s eyes and she just looked tired and sad. Adam softened.

“...Sorry.”

That got (Name)’s attention. Adam had never, ever said sorry to her before.

Adam came over and sat on the edge of the bed. “What’s wrong?” he asked. “What’s wrong? What’s wrong?” (Name) was appalled. “I’ll fucking tell you what’s wrong.” She sat up.

“I was created for the sole purpose of being your wife so that you would no longer be alone. That is my entire purpose, my whole identity. And you hate me. You’re literally all I have in life and you want nothing to do with me. You weren’t even just cold, you were mean. Nasty. I wish I hated you. But I still love you, and that fucking hurts.”

Adam was quiet for once in his life. He had never really thought about the consequences of his actions. He hadn’t seen (Name) so much as person as he did an annoyance that followed him around. Now here she was, a person. A being with thoughts and feelings. A being he’d been abusing.

He reached a gentle hand towards her and she recoiled. Adam winced. “I’m sorry,” he admitted. “I really am. I thought… if I got too close, you would leave me like Lilith and Eve did.” (Name) blinked at him. “I know that’s a shitty excuse,” Adam mumbled. “I wish I could tell you how sorry I am. I was a fucking coward, in trying to prevent myself from being lonely I made you lonely.” “You did more than that,” (Name) scoffed.

Adam looked ashamed. “Yeah… I’m so sorry. I want to start over. If… if you want that. I understand if you’re done with me, I definitely deserve it.”

(Name) contemplated for a moment. “We can start over,” (Name) said eventually. “But we start slow. I don’t like or trust you right now.”

Adam nodded eagerly. “That’s fair. (Name)?”

“Yeah?”

“Just start coming with me when I go about my day again.”

(Name) did, and over the next two weeks she would accompany Adam everywhere, not follow, because he kept his stride slow so that she could keep up. He talked to her, asked questions about her, got to know her. She quickly became a soft spot for him. It took a lot to not sabotage it out of fear, but Adam managed.

Two months in, and they’d kindled a relationship so well that they had sexual tension. They had yet to act on it, neither realizing that the other wanted it as much as them.

But this was the longest Adam had gone without sex in a long time, and with his high sex drive, it was incredibly difficult. It wasn’t much longer before he couldn’t contain himself anymore. He burst into her room randomly and announced, “I think I love you and I want to fuck you.”

(Name) put down her phone, wearing nothing but short shorts and a tank top, ready for bed. “I think I love you too, and I would very much like you to fuck me,” (Name) replied after a beat of silence.

Adam wasted no time, coming up to her bedside and picking her up bridal-style. “Adam, what–” “You’ve had your own room long enough. It’s time we share a bed. And what better way to consecrate it?” He smirked.

(Name) smiled, holding onto his neck. When they entered Adam’s room, he gently laid her down on his bed. He was going to take his time with this, he’d waited for so long he was going to savor every second.

He shed his mask, and (Name) gasped. She’d never seen him without his mask before. Adam looked slightly unsure of himself. “Kiss me,” (Name) breathed. Adam stood between her legs and bent over the bed to press his lips to hers sweetly. She ran her fingers through his hair.

“You’re so pretty,” she whispered when he pulled back. Adam wanted to make a cocky comment, but decided against it for the sake of the moment. He pulled his shirt off, then undid his belt, kicking off his pants. Then he gently pulled (Name)’s tank top over her head, thrilled to finally see her bare rack.

But before he went for her chest, he pulled her shorts down and off. When they were both in their underwear, Adam picked (Name) up and threw her further on the bed. Then he climbed onto the bed and on top of her.

He connected their lips while his hands groped her chest. His tongue invaded her mouth and (Name) moaned. Adam kissed down her neck, her chest, until her reached her left tit, and latched on with his mouth. (Name) gasped as he sucked on her nipple, his hand reaching to roll her other nipple between his forefinger and thumb. (Name)’s fingers tangled in Adam’s hair.

He pulled off with a wet pop and moved to the other breast, taking it into his mouth as well. (Name) hummed sounds of affirmation as Adam gave her chest attention, sighing when he pulled back. Adam’s hand slid down her stomach and inbetween her legs and (Name) bit her lip. When Adam’s hand slipped under her panties and his fingers brushed against (Name)’s wet folds, she moaned. “You’re so wet,” Adam said lowly in her ear. “All for me.”

He entered two fingers inside of her, curling them. (Name)’s back arched a little bit. Adam added a third rather quickly, realizing briefly that her body had been made to fit with his perfectly. The thought almost made Adam sentimental.

Because of this fact he didn’t spend long fingering her. He was impatient, and he didn’t have to. She was already ready for him. He pulled her panties down and off before kneeling back to tug his boxers down. He shed those too and pressed their naked bodies together.

“I love you,” he said quietly, kissing her lips. “I’ll forever be sorry for how I was before. Let me make it up to you~”

(Name) whimpered when she felt his dick pressing at her entrance. Adam grabbed both of her hands in his, pinning them next to her head and intertwining their fingers. “Are you ready?” he asked, not sure how much longer he could wait.

(Name) nodded vigorously. Adam gently pushed his hips forward, slowly sinking into her heat. He groaned, his self-restraint waning. He bottomed out with a heavy sigh. “I love you,” he repeated. “Fuck. You're so tight.”

(Name) couldn’t reply, adjusting to Adam’s size. Once she did, she moved her hips a little bit. “Move,” she begged. Adam didn’t need to be asked twice. He slowly began to roll his hips, thrusting in and out slowly and sensually. It felt good, but it wasn’t enough, so it didn’t last long.

Adam’s hips picked up in pace and intensity. (Name) moaned everytime he drove into her. It was Adam’s new favorite sound. They were in missionary, Adam’s favorite position because he could stare at (Name) while they made love. He could drink in every little expression of pleasure on her pretty face.

(Name) squeezed the life out of Adam’s hands. Adam leaned down to suck love marks onto (Name)’s neck. (Name) threw her head back, giving him easier access while he marked her as his.

When he pulled back, he let go of one of (Name)’s hands, sneaking his now free hand down between them to rub circles around her clit with a slender finger. He relished in the look of pleasure (Name) made, jaw dropping and eyes rolling back. His hips didn’t lose their steady pace until (Name) moaned, “Faster!”

Adam began slamming into her, and with (Name)’s free hand, she clawed at his back. Every thrust hit deep and Adam timed pressure on her clit with every thrust. “Adam,” (Name) gasped. “I’m– nngh~ I’m close.”

“Fuck, me too,” Adam panted. He kept his pace steady, both of their orgasms steadily growing. (Name)’s moans became higher pitched. Adam’s groans grew more frequent.

Eventually, they were on the precipice together, calling out one another’s names as they climaxed. Adam came buried deep inside of her, and (Name) came on his dick. They froze for a moment afterwards, each trying to catch their breath. As they panted, coming down, Adam dropped his forehead against (Name)’s, staring deeply into her eyes. Watching her orgasm had made his euphoric. He kissed her softly, in contrast to the pace they’d just been going at.

“I love you,” (Name) said quietly.

Adam pulled out, collapsing on the bed next to her. “I love you too, (Name).”

[strniohoeee]

ahhh you’re my favorite writer!! can you write something about dad!matt please!! maybe something about the whole family going to the cape

Warm Summers

Pairing: Matt Sturniolo X Female Reader

Synopsis: Fourth of July Weekend calls for fireworks, barbecues and most importantly family. Matt, Y/N and their twins take a trip to the Cape for the holiday weekend☀️

Warnings⚠️: None, this one was kinda cute. Might make more dad Matt fics in the future 😌 to the person that requested this thank you for the support I LOVE YOUUUU😭🖤

Song for Imagine: Tell Me I’m Dreaming- Los Yesterdays

The star make diamonds

Upon your face

The moon smiles down

From outer space

“And the Princess was so so sad because she thought her Prince didn’t want to be with her. He said he was afraid that he would hurt her” I said as I slid the sock on my daughters foot

“No! Mommy… the Princess needs her Prince” She said getting sad

“But then on a rainy cold night the Princess sat in her room, crying and holding her pillow close to her chest. Oh how she wished her Prince would come back” I said as I finished slipping her sneakers on, scooting over to put the socks and sneakers on her twin sister

“And then what?” She practically screeched

“Suddenly a soaking wet Prince ran up her castle stairs and bursted into her room. He fell to his knees crying with a bouquet of flowers in his hand. Begging the Princess to take him back and saying how foolish he had been. He said he wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of his life with her and to make her his Queen” I said watching as her and her sisters eyes lit up

“Did she take him back? Mommy please tell me she took him back” They both screeched as they clung onto their pink stuffed bunnies

“The Princess did! She got up and grabbed the Prince sooo tight and she kissed him” I replied

“Ewwww” they started scrunching their faces up as I laughed

“And they stood there hugging forever. And next thing you know they became King and Queen, they got married and had two twin girls” I replied as I smiled

“Twin girls? Like us!” They said as their eyes lit up

“Just like you both” I responded winking

“Mommy, is that a real story?” they asked

“Yes it is and your daddy was the stupid Prince who almost made the worst decision of his life” Matt suddenly spoke from the bedroom door frame

“DADDYYYYYY” they yelled as they jumped off their beds and into Matt’s embrace. Which caused me to smile

“Daddy you almost didn’t marry mommy? How could you? That’s so silly… she’s the best mama ever” Our daughter asked him

“I know daddy wasn’t so smart when he was younger. I’ll never forget that rainy night. You know that’s why your name is Lluvia. It’s Spanish for rainy season and you so happened to be born during a rainy season” Matt said kissing her on the forehead

“And what about me?” My other daughter asked him

“You’re Luna which is Latin for the moon, the night you both were born it happened to be a full moon and raining” I responded as I took Luna from Matt’s arm

“Mommy and Daddy are so cool” Lluvia squealed as she giggled

“We’re the coolest” I said winking at them

“Now who’s ready for that trip” Matt asked them as they started to jump around in our arms

“MEEEEE” they both yelled

We put them down and let them run down the stairs. Watching to make sure they got to the bottom we both let out a sigh.

Matt looked over at me and pulled me into a hug. Pulling back slightly I leaned in and planted a kiss to his lips.

“I can’t believe we’re 26 with a house and kids” I said reminiscing on our teenage years

Matt and I had been together since we were 18 and friends our whole life. It’s so crazy that this gross sticky boy I used to be neighbors with is the father of my kids and my husband….full circle moment

“Twins at that…. Want one more?” He asked me as he cocked an eyebrow

“With our luck I’d pop out another set of twins or even triplets” I said laughing as I grabbed the girls mini suitcases

“We’d have a herd of Sturniolos” he said giggling

“A herd is insanity, the girls are 4… so another one or two wouldn’t hurt” I said looking over at him

“Good thing we’re all going to be in separate rooms up in the Cod” he responded winking at me

“You are sickkk” I said smacking him playfully

Loading up the car we buckled the girls in. Matt and I’s family always went to Cape Cod during the summer months. It has been a tradition since before we were born. So naturally we thought now was the perfect time to start taking them.

Lucky for us Matt purchased a cabin out there near his parents and my parents so we’d be able to have family get togethers and always be around one another.

Given it was Fourth Of July weekend we thought it was perfect for a whole family get together.

Our hour and a half drive flew by as we spent most of it listening to Disney hits and stopping the girls from fighting with one another. They were just like Matt and his brothers.

We arrived after everyone and settled our stuff into our cabin. Taking the short walk over to his parents where everyone was at.

“Yooooo” Chris said as we walked out back to where everyone was sitting

“Hey guys” I said as I put the girls down

One ran to my mom and the other ran to Mary-Lou. As they hugged their grandparents I said hi to mine and my in laws.

“How was the ride out here?” Jimmy asked Matt

“Not too bad for holiday weekend to be honest” he said opening up the cooler and getting a juice pouch out for each of the girls

“Y/N how are you? Matt driving you crazy?” Justin asked me

“I’m good and honestly he’s been better” I said winking at Matt

Nick came over to play with the girls as I chatted with everyone.

“Okay but who’s the best uncle?” Chris asked Luna

“You both are” Luna said

“What? Not fair I’m better” he said crossing his arms over his chest

“I like Nick the best” Lluvia said as she hugged Nicks arm

“Only because he lets you do whatever you want” Chris said

“nuh uh” she said shaking her head

“Yuh huh” Chris said shaking his head

“He went from fighting with us like a child to fighting with our kids like a child” Matt said laughing

“You’re a meany uncle Chris” Lluvia said sticking her tongue out

“La La La La I can’t hear you” he said covering his ears and sticking his tongue out at her

“Will you quit being a child” Nick said smacking Chris

Giggling at them it was closer to dinner time. We all sat at the large table outside as we chatted.

The girls sat on my lap and Matt sat next to me. Turning our chairs towards each other Matt was feeding the girls while I ate.

Cutting up their hotdogs into bite size pieces he fed them as I held on to them. Wiping their mouth and giving them a sip of their waters

“Babe do you want the rest of my burger”I asked Matt

“Yeah, leave it there I’ll finish it” He said nodding his head

“All done” Matt said in his baby voice as the girls finished eating

“Grandma” Luna said as she began to slide out my arms

“You want to go with grandma” Matt asked her

She nodded her head and rubbed her eyes, anytime Mary Lou was around Luna had to lay on her and fall asleep. Lluvia reached out to my dad and so I gave her to him. Somehow within 10 minutes she landed in Justin’s arms and was dozing off.

Matt sat down and began to eat, standing up I headed over to the cooler and grabbed him a root beer. Opening it up for him I placed it next to his plate.

“Thank you baby” he responded winking at me

“You’re welcome, thank you for feeding them and letting me eat” I said blowing him a kiss

“Always my love” he said taking a sip of his soda

“It’s so funny to me watching you all grow up together. Sitting here at this table since birth and now two of our babies are married with babies” My mom said

“It’s so interesting to watch. I for sure thought Y/N hated all of them. I never imagined Matt and her to end up together” Justin said giggling

“I always thought yall had cooties and that’s why I never liked hanging out with you guys till we got older. I never thought Matt and I would need up together it’s so funny” I responded

“You guys just work so well together, I love you guys” Chris said reaching over and hugging Matt

Laughing at this we all finished our dinner. Having dessert with coffee as we watched the fireworks. The girls enjoy all the pretty colors.

We laid in the grass with the girls as we watched the fireworks. Reminiscing about our past.

We spent the rest of the weekend there jumping between houses for hangouts. And even getting alone time with Matt’s brothers as our parents took the kids. It was beautiful and peaceful, and I loved Matt and the girls with all my heart…

The End

Idk how I feel about this, but I hope you enjoyed it!!!! Can't wait to post more akekekek. Love yall dearly I’m almost at 2,640 followers which is insanity to me. Thank you sooo much🥹🖤🖤

-J💅🏽

[fleurriee]

— protection duty ; neteyam sully

pairing ; neteyam sully x fem!pregnant reader

synopsis ; it had been a few months now since you found out you were pregnant, and the paranoia of your mate can either be sweet or... annoying.

word count ; 4.3k

themes ; fluff, slight angst???, established relationship (mates).

warnings ; reader experiencing abdominal pains, overbearing neteytam if that counts but we'll continue to love him anyway???

author’s note ; the entire time i was writing this i had baby fever... what do i need to do to get my own neteyam?? this is part of my dad!neteyam series, which you can find in my masterlist below!

previous part ; next part

dad!neteyam series masterlist main masterlist request a fic!

"Here, let me."

For almost the entire day, you had found yourself confound to the same surrounding walls of the Tsahik tent. The predicament of being pregnant - let alone with the heir to the Olo'eyktan of the Omitkaya clan - was something you definitely hadn't seen coming. Of course, you understood their worries, but when it started to become a constant reoccurrence, it seemed a little too much.

You absolutely appreciated every gesture the clan offered you - whether it was helping you walk across the way, helping you sit down, helping you collect your food. It was endearing, but sometimes, you wished you could go back to the girl you were before, the one who could do things for herself without the fear of being coddled.

Obviously you had regular check ups with Mo'at to ensure everything was going smoothly with both yourself and your baby. This mainly included instances where she would poke and prod against your body, keeping her ears close to hear anything particular, calling out signs from Ewya that spoke of a blessing.

Today, however, was different.

Stupidly, you had accidentally let slip that you had begun to feel slight aches around your stomach. There wasn't anything specific about these pains, either, which made them more difficult to hide - they could occur at any part of the day, no matter who you were with or what you were doing, and you could only discreetly wince so much until it was becoming too much to bear on your own.

A small part of you was relieved by your own slip up to the Tsahik - that way, you had someone to confide in, who you could talk your problems away to and would understand. You were too nervous to tell Neteyam, already knowing the exact reaction he'd have. It wasn't as though you could have asked for a better mate by your side as you slowly started to take this journey together, but he was extremely protective.

And, you could understand his protectiveness when it came to the two of you - this was your first child, the first time you would be experiencing this path, and thankfully, you were doing it together. But, when his hands wouldn't leave your figure, keeping his steps directly next to your own, you had to start biting back your snaps. You didn't want to fight with him, after all, this was his baby, too, but despite doing this together, the stress hanging upon your shoulders and aching against your lower back was becoming too much.

So, when you let slip of your pains to Mo'at, the protectiveness you had seen in Neteyam had slowly started to transfer to his grandmother, clear as day as to where both himself and his mother got such a trait from in the first place. In an instant, she was rushing over to your figure, hands pressing against your stomach to spot the signs that you couldn't even if you had tried. You could see it clear as day when her gaze lingered on your own - this was her grandson's first born child, and all she wanted was for her family to be happy.

Thankfully, nothing had been wrong. With a smile full of reassurance directed solely at you, Mo'at had ensured you that the pains were natural due to the position your child was laying in - they were putting more pressure against your back than normal, but it was nothing to worry about. Such a revelation had you feeling insanely relieved, hands resting gently against your stomach as you rubbed your fingers to and fro. Already your child was up to no good.

But, in the end, her worries won over, and she insisted that you spend the day with her, just to hold any precautions necessary. You had sighed in reluctance, not wanting to get in the way of the Tsahik with her day-to-day tasks, but one warning look was all it took for you to agree, albeit, grumbling under your breath.

It wasn't too long after that when Kiri entered the tent, ready to work alongside her grandmother. Upon spotting you, she gave you a questioning expression, one you just answered with a subtle shake of your head, insinuating you'd rather not get into it right then. She didn't mind, instantly beginning her training as you watched on.

That was how the day panned out for you - sitting comfortably with your legs crossed, hands resting on top of your stomach, secure, back finally getting the rest it was screaming out for as you leant against a table. Every now and again, you would share input based on the training you were receiving before having them put on hold due to falling pregnant. It was nice, calming.

It wasn't as though there was much else you could do, especially considering your condition. Neteyam was out all day - he had grumbled and hissed at his father for forcing him away from his mate when she needed him the most, but all it took was Jake insisting that he needed to provide for his family more so than ever before, meaning he had to go out and hunt with the rest of those responsible with such a task. Leave it to Neteyam to step up to a mighty, protective role - he'd do anything for the two of you, that much was obvious.

Towards the end of the day, you had received another visitor - Neytiri. Throughout your pregnancy so far, your mother-in-law had been nothing but kind, understanding, nurturing. You felt at peace when you were around Neytiri, the woman always ensuring you were happy and okay before asking any other questions. She knew first hand what it was like to go through what you were, especially as a figurehead to the entire clan, and she'd be damned if she were to let you crumble under the weight of it all.

Neytiri greeted both her mother and her daughter before making her way over to you, squatting down and asking how you were. The question bought you ease and solace, wrapped within the comforts of a fellow mother's warm embrace. She'd brought you some fruits, too, for your dinner that night, stating that not only were they deliciously beautiful, but that they had properties within them that could help ease any potential pains you may been feeling. For a split second, you panicked, wondering whether your winces hadn't been all that discreet in the end, and waiting for the inevitable scolding you'd receive for not seeking help immediately. Instead, she only continued to smile softly at you, placing the bowl down near you and subtly asking for permission to place her hands against your stomach.

This was something Neytiri loved to do - she said being close to a child still in the womb like this was comforting for both the mother and the baby, the both of them relishing in the embrace of knowing they were never alone, that they had a family - an entire clan - standing behind them, ready to receive them home. And, she was right, like she always is. Such a gesture caused you relaxation, the constraints dispersing within the seconds until it was like they were never there at all.

You had left not long after that, stating that you needed to get back home before Neteyam did to ensure he had some food waiting for him after a gruelling day of hunting. Before you could leave the tent, Mo'at had shot up from her position, gesturing you closer to her and doing something similar to what Neytiri had done earlier. Mo'at was breathing in deeply, eyes closed as she spoke to the will of Ewya. When the Tsahik did this, you couldn't help but worry for a short second that maybe something was wrong, but the pleasant smile etched into the elder Na'vi's lips forced all those thoughts away into oblivion.

Finally, you were on your way home, a small bowl of fruits in one hand and the other on top of your protruding stomach that was beginning its little renditions of rumbling. The sweet scent of the food just below you were invading your scenes, and you were sure you had never smelled anything sweeter, a pure smile of bliss painted upon your features.

That was when Neteyam came.

He was by your side in an instant, the warmth of his body radiating through to your own, hands moving subconsciously towards the bowl to take it from your own grasp. Looking over at him, it was clear as day he hadn't been to a healing tent like they were supposed to after every hunt, even if it was just to get checked out. Neteyam had no scratches on him, of course, but he was a little filthy, chest heaving with panting breaths, sweat beading upon the top of his head. He must've seen you on your way home.

"Neteyam," you chastised him, keeping the bowl tight in your hold. "I can carry it-"

"It's fine, yawne (beloved)," he replied, shaking his head, adamant. His gaze was piercing as he looked intently down at you, unrelenting in his actions - it was obvious he wasn't going to give in, not like you wanted him to. "I'll do it for you."

You grumbled to yourself, eyes rolling in disbelief at such a level of protectiveness emanating from your mate - you understood it sometimes, but this was ridiculous. "It is only a bowl of fruit."

With a playful shrug, he smirks, knowing he's starting to get on your nerves with the way he's acting, but clearly not caring enough to stop himself. There was nothing on both the world of Pandora and all the galaxies around that could stop him from treating you with the upmost care and compassion as a mate and father-to-be should. If anything were to happen to you, he'd never forgive himself, even if the perpetrator was a bowl of fruit. "And, what type of Na'vi would I be if I didn't help my pregnant mate?"

There's no chance to retaliate against him - in an instant, he's moving over to your tent, opening the flap of the entrance open with his arm as he gestures you to walk through. The sight of him sends shivers down your spine, your mind creating images of nights you'd spent intimately together - the way he was such a gentleman towards you, so caring and doting, had you practically frothing at the mouth. Not that he'd do anything with you now, though.

Shaking your head in mock displeasure, you walked into your tent, grumbling as you went, eyeing him with slight annoyance of him prohibiting you from practically everything. You loved him for it, of course you did, but no matter how annoyed you'd become at each overbearing action, the two of you knew he wasn't going to stop, so what was the point in arguing when it was only going to be a losing battle?

Moving further into your tent, you walk around the middle where a small table had been both built and set up by Neteyam just after you moved in. It was ritual that you always ate together there, sharing stories of your day and wondering what the next one would bring. It always brought you sadness when Neteyam couldn't make it - there had been several times since moving in together that he had to go out on a hunting trip for days, but his family were always sure to invite you to their meal, not wanting you to be alone.

Standing in your usual spot, you watched in your peripheral as Neteyam started to tie the entrance closed, wanting the two of you to have as much privacy and time to be your true selves together. You started to bend your knees, arms preparing to catch your weighted figure on the way down when another sharp pain pierced right against your abdomen, sending jolting sensations right to the bottom of your toes. An agonizing hiss escaped past your lips before you could remember to stop yourself, too busy focusing on the pain bearing down on you, knees wobbling as you struggled to hold yourself up right.

Immediately, Neteyam was by your side, bowl shoved to the floor carelessly, its contents spilling about the place. His protective side washed over him, glazing him over in a red light until all he was doing was panicking. He took note of your scrunched up features, the way your brows furrowed, eyes wrenched shut, legs unsteady. Gently, but with a rush of urgency, he placed one hand to the back of your neck, willing your head to look up at him, to focus on him, and the other on top of your plump stomach, fondly caressing the skin with his thumb. "What is it - what's wrong, yawne (beloved)?"

You give yourself a minute to catch your breath, shaking your head and willing yourself back to the present, mind relentlessly reminding yourself that it's okay, Mo'at said it's fine. Still, you don't move, staying in his arms that brought you such a strong feeling of safety. "It is nothing, my muntxa (mate), just a bit of pain." You swallow deeply, the pain beginning to subside. "Your grandmother said it is normal." Looking up at him, you instantly recognised both the hesitance and concern rooted deeply within his gaze, eyes slightly crinkled and a crease between his brows. It didn't matter how many times you told him the same thing now, he'd be by your side constantly. "It's okay, ma'teyam. Let me just-"

You attempted to unwind yourself from his arms, going to try and sit down again so you could start the meal that should have been completed ages ago now. But, Neteyam wouldn't let you, noticing exactly what you were doing and not allowing it. Whilst his grip on your delicate figure tightened just a little, he shook his head vehemently. "No, no. I will do our food tonight, muntxate (wife)."

Guilt started to cleave away at your mind - Neteyam had surely had a long day, no doubt only wanting to be home and within your arms, surrounding by his own growing family, appetite full from a meal you had made. Yet, here he was, insisting he make the food for the two of you - well, three of you - despite the tiredness clearly shown on his features. "Neteyam, really-" you sighed.

"Please, my syulang (flower)." He begged, the desperation evident in his tone of voice, and it only ached your heart more. The soft sensation of his thumb continuously rubbing against your stomach paired along with the compassion in his gaze, never once faltering from your own, already had you agreeing with him. "Let me do this for you." His voice was soft, words spoken tenderly, like speaking any louder might've hurt you or the baby.

With his head resting gently upon your own, you felt yourself beginning to fall down the path that was only filled with him. How could you say no to such a request when he was desperate to provide for you, wanting to be the head of his own family that he couldn't wait to watch grow with you by his side?

You nod, causing a slow but bright smile to be casted upon his lips. His hands don't move from your body, instead making their way around your figure until he has you turned around, situated in front of him and guiding you over to the mat the two of you share. Actions considerate of the potential pain you could still be in, he starts to help you lower yourself down, one hand against the small of your back, and the other not having once moved from your stomach, from your baby. His touch was as though he was protecting them from the world, from anything daring enough to threaten them - Ewya help whoever would when they cross Neteyam.

Placed gently upon your mat, comfortably in the same position you continue to find yourself in - legs crossed over one another and arms wrapped around the entirety of your stomach - your mate stood above you, looking down at you lovingly. Sending you a warm smile, he placed a lingering kiss to the top of your head, before eventually parting and moving back over to the bowl of discarded fruit.

You watch him as he works, preparing his family's dinner, hands moving deftly about the table's surface. He made sure to give you a bigger portion now that you were technically eating for two, adding in the fruits he instantly knows were from his mother after having seeing them all the time when growing up. Every now and again, he'll aim his attention back over to you, no doubt checking on you and making sure you're comfortable and okay, only to find your eyes automatically following his every move. He chuckles to himself, his tail twitching at the way he can gain such a loving reaction from you, willing his attention back to his task.

You just can't help yourself when he looks like that - the way the domesticity oozes from him so deliciously only has you buzzing with excitement. Just the thought of what he'll be like when the baby eventually does arrive causes your flesh to rise, your heart fluttering widely. If you'd have known he could only get more attractive during a time like this, you might've given yourself more warning - then again, you knew nothing could really prepare you for the man before you.

Before you know it, Neteyam is up and making his way over to you, gently cupping your portion of food and handing it over to you. Hurriedly, he goes back for his own, settling himself down beside you, knees touching and warmth excruciating. You smile widely at him at the way he's treating you, slowly beginning to come to terms with his protectiveness - as he said, it's his job as both your mate and the soon-to-be father of the family. Bringing the food up to your mouth, you take a small bite, relishing in the tastes it exudes, loving the mixture Neteyam had made just for you.

A moan of delight falls from your lips, eyes peeling back open to fall upon him, attention already locked on you. "Thank you, ma'teyam."

He smiles warmly back at you, savouring the way you look at him. Happiness washes over him that you enjoyed the meal he rushed for you, only now hoping that his baby enjoyed some of it, too. Nodding, you watch as some of braids fall into his face. "Of course, my muntxate (wife). I'll always take care of my girls."

Such words have you raising your eyes, pointedly looking straight at him. You can feel your ears twitch as you process the exact thing he had just softly spoken to you. "Your girls?" you question, teasingly smiling, but unable to hide the pure adoration peeking through your façade. With a free hand, you start to rub against your stomach, part of you hoping against all odds that your unborn baby could hear their parents. "Who says they are a girl, hmm?"

Shrugging, Neteyam takes another bite of his food, speaking with his mouth full. When he's outside, in front of the clan, he can't do things like this - he can't show off his childish side and be the Na'vi he feels he truly is. He has to put on a front, but not with you - never with you. Allowing him to show himself off like this, has only ever made him love you more. "Father's intuition."

You laugh loudly at his reasoning. "Father's intuition?" you repeat, shaking your head at him. "And, what about the mother's intuition?"

The teasing between you only continues to go back and forth, a smile full of adoration playing on his lips. Shaking his head, he leans closer to you, voice quiet but tender. "I know I'm not normally right about these things," he begins, giddiness starting to wash over you as you watch his every move, "but, this I definitely am."

Heart warm and mushy, your mind begins to show you quick images of a future that could be waiting for you - Neteyam swinging your unborn daughter in the air, her little, high-pitched giggles loud within the clan; Neteyam walking around with her all day, showing off everything her sempu (father) does to help provide and feeling proud when she shows interest; Neteyam wanting to teach her absolutely everything, wishing her to be fierce and independent, but not so much so she was unsafe or didn't feel the need to confide with her parents.

You can't help but look up at him like he's the one who hung all the stars in the sky, like he was the embodiment of Ewya herself.

Eyes still penetrating him, mind still hazy with beautiful images, you bite your lip, unable to hide the growing smile that's evident of the way he speaks about your family. "I guess a girl does sound nice."

Breathlessly laughing, he finishes off his portion, gesturing for you to each as much of yours as you could - he knew sometimes, despite always ensuring you gave yourself a larger portion, that you struggled to finish a full meal. When you ate all you wanted, he took the discarded leftovers, placing them in the bowl his mother sent and leaving it on the side. Now back with you, you look up at him, wondering what his plan is to do next. You can't say you're entirely surprised when he bends low beside you, picking you up in his arms and beginning to lay you back against the mat with care, assuring that you weren't in any pain.

Since moving in together and decorating your tent exactly how the two of you loved it, making sure it felt exactly like home, Neteyam had insisted that he would be the one to sleep on the outside of the mat, leaving you encased between your mate's body and the side of the tent. You never had any disagreements with his arrangements, but you'd asked him why out of curiosity, with him explaining that if anything were to happen, he could protect you before they could threaten you. You remember feeling giddy at his confession at the time, and now that you were pregnant, that had only reached ten-fold.

You lay on your back, waiting for Neteyam to make himself comfortable beside you; one arm placed under your head, acting as a pillow, and the other situated right where it always found itself - upon your stomach. His hand moved almost subconsciously, rubbing soothingly against your skin, drawing patterns and wondering if his baby could tell he was near.

Like a routine now, Neteyam doesn't allow himself even a single moment to think about falling asleep, no matter how tired he is or how much he wishes to float away, dreaming of you and your baby. Instead, he lifts himself forward, resting his head just inches away your stomach, and speaks softly, whispering the words into your skin so they can hear every word he has to say to them. "I love you, ma'evenge (my girl). Goodnight, and make sure to be kind to your mother so she can get some good rest, too."

Chuckling at his words, Neteyam lies back down, situating himself right by your side, snuggling in closer to you. He cups his hand against your cheek, bringing you in for a loving kiss, one that had you feeling a tingle of excitement.

Pulling away from you, your mate stares intently into your eyes. "Promise me you will tell me when you feel pain like that again."

You melt into his embrace, head snuggling into the palm of hand, sighing in defeat. "Neteyam," you relent, bringing your own hand up to run up and down his chest in smoothing patterns, attempting to calm his worries. "Your grandmother - the Tsahik - said it is perfectly normal to get them every now and again when-"

Neteyam shakes his head, refusing. His eyes are narrowed, adamant. "No, I do not care if they are normal, for whatever reason." His words have you stumped, watching him without breaking away from his gaze. "I need to know what you are feeling, and I need to help you through it." Blinking, you can feel a build-up of tears at the way he speaks to you, so caring, so devoting. "As your muntxa (mate), and as a sempu (father)."

You can't help but feel bad for having put him in this situation in the first place - you know now, with how achingly clear it is, that telling Neteyam of your growing pains was always what you should've done to begin with. It didn't matter how protective he got over the two of you, because his intentions were always clear - to keep you safe and healthy. For you to have denied that of him was wrong.

Licking your lips, you breathe in relief, looking up at him tenderly, eyes alight. "Okay, ma'teyam," you relent, "I will - I promise."

Leaning up slightly, you press a feather-light kiss along his jaw, feeling him starting to relax from beneath your touch. You pull away and spot the tiredness beginning to take over him entirely, so you snuggle in closer to him, your head nestling into the crook of his neck and allowing him was to engulf you whole. His tail moves against you, wrapping itself from around Neteyam and coiling over your bulging stomach, body subconsciously feeling the need to protect his mate and baby.

With a sigh of relief, the two of you allow sleep to invade your senses, slipping off into a world of pure bliss that you can only hope will be a part of your futures.

taglist ;

@monahiiii @bakugouswaif @andraga12 @draiochtwrites

[justwinginglife]

-request-

Hey!!! I‘m Reading your one shots for a while now, and I have to say that I LOVE your work!! Keep going and I love you pooks🎀

So, I wanted to ask if you could write about y/n who’s in love with soshiro and he finds out about her feelings (or she confessed to him about her feelings), but he doesn’t feel the same

I mean it’s heartbreaking but HEAR ME OUT-

Would be nice💞

Xoxo

AHH thanks so much! Also LOL I will totally do this for you, but I will be so sad about it. I need to get with Soshiro, if I don't get with him, I die. I will probably immediately write another fic about getting together with him after I write this so I can feel better lol. But thanks so much for reaching out to me!

Joy Of My Life

For the longest time, your feelings for Soshiro kept you company. They held you afloat when you had nothing else to look forward to, filling your days with pleasant thoughts, taking you back to your schoolgirl days when you'd giggle under the covers, gossiping with your friends. When you got older, other men made their futile attempts at seeking entrance into your heart, but your feelings would lock the door and throw away the key, barring admission to anyone but Soshiro Hoshina.

It was physically impossible for you to love anyone else, not with the way he was. Not when he'd saved your life over and over again. And not just from the kaiju. From yourself, from dark thoughts that swirled like a torrential storm in your mind. From your so-called parents and your family that proved that blood did not matter in the slightest. He was more family to you than anyone else. Even the small things he did- they saved you, little by little, until your soul felt whole again.

You'd think about the way he'd take you anywhere you wanted in his free time, always being the driver because he knew you hated driving. And then he'd drive like a grandma and you'd tease him for it, saying maybe you'd overcome your fear of highways just so you could show him what real speed was. He'd laugh but he'd continue to drive cautiously all the same. You were shocked when one day you learned from someone else that he actually usually drove like a maniacal, road-raging, speed demon. He was just safe for your sake.

You'd think about how he never took a day off of work except on your birthday so he could remind you how grateful he was that you were born. Even when sometimes you wish you'd never been born at all. But you couldn't think that way now. Not when you had someone waiting for you, someone laughing with you, someone to hold you, to care for you. Even if it wasn't the way you wanted him to care for you, you were still thankful for any part of him that was yours. Any piece of him that belonged to you, any moment you'd shared with him alone.

Maybe one day, he'd give you his smile and you'd store it away in your fondest memories. And the next day, he'd tell you a joke and you'd preserve it in your mind exactly the way he said it, save it for a rainy day when you were in need of a laugh. A wrinkle of his nose, a raised eyebrow, the curve of his lips, you stole anything you could from him and you were happy with it. Happy with the little that you got because it was better than the nothing that came before him. Better than the emptiness and the loneliness and the silence.

Slowly, you felt all the jagged, unwanted, broken pieces of you mending themselves. Repairing the damage to your heart so you could have something worth giving to him.

And so, for awhile, you were content just allowing your feelings to be nothing more than just warmth in your chest, kindle for the fire of your love. But then the Hoshina clan started spreading word that their youngest son was in need of a wife and that fire within you began to burn more erratically, flames sputtering and trembling at the thought of him being with another woman. You knew you had no choice but to release your longtime companion from the confines of your heart, and finally confess your feelings to him.

Once they'd been set free, you wondered if your feelings would ever be comfortable shrinking back into their hiding place again, or if they'd never be the same after getting a taste of the outside world. You were scared to find out but you knew you couldn't keep going on this way forever.

By the end of the day, the delicious, familiar pang of your one-sided love would either transfigure itself into endless tidal waves of crushing agony at being rejected, or endless rays of blissful sunshine at the joy of being accepted.

But rain or shine, you are determined to move forward into this uncharted territory so you find yourself on Soshiro's familiar doorstep once again.

Hey Soshiro, thanks for fixing my front porch, by the way I'm in love with you.

Hey Soshiro, when you took me out for dinner the other day because my stove broke, I imagined it was a date in my mind.

Hey Soshiro, I know we've been friends for awhile, but I've always seen you as more.

You'd think that with how long you'd been in love with him, you would've at least thought up a better way to confess to him. But not once did you ever even imagine that you'd be doing this, so it never occurred to you to unscramble the mess of your feelings and produce a reliable means of conveying them to him.

You wonder if your heart is sprinting laps inside your chest because you feel it bursting when you finally manage a weak knock on his door. Part of you hopes he didn't hear it and you can go home, forget you ever wanted to confess to him. But part of you knows this has to be done and that part of you knocks again, louder this time.

He is surprised to see you but he eagerly lets you inside anyway, a grin at the ready.

"What's up?" He knocks his shoulder against yours as you pass by him.

You take in the familiar sight of the inside of his apartment, wondering if he'll ever let you in again after you say what you have to say.

The look he gives you grows increasingly more puzzled with every passing second.

You seem to be ignoring him, the way that you just keep taking in your surroundings as though it's the last time you'll see them.

"Alright, you're acting weird, spill the beans." He sits you down firmly on his couch.

You fiddle with your thumbs as your voice struggles to catch up with your thoughts. "I, uh, have something to say to you."

He raises an eyebrow. "Okay? So say it then."

You cough. "Right. Working on it."

"Well work on it a little faster." He laughs.

You swallow hard and the action suddenly makes him very nervous.

"Sorry, I mean take your time. I was just teasing."

So now he knows you have something serious to say and now you're even more scared to say it. But you say it anyway. "I care about you. A lot."

His brows furrow as he ponders how something so simple can get you so worked up. "I care about you too. What's the big deal?"

"No I mean," You swallow again, this time more painfully, "I love you. I'm in love with you."

Your words seem to find him because suddenly he's sinking into a chair now too.

"Oh shit." He mumbles, steadying himself on the arm of the couch.

You bite your lip as you wait for his verdict.

It seems like hours since he last spoke. It's been a few seconds.

But the silence itself is a response and you're taking every painful second of it like a knife to the heart. You wonder just how long you have to wait before it's appropriate to cry. You wonder what you'll do with this new feeling that's invading your chest. What it'll do to you.

You think you might be drowning because you can't remember what it's like to breathe. The air is so thick and so heavy in your lungs, that you feel like a stranger to oxygen.

You wonder how he'll apologize, you know he'll apologize. He can't help it. He's kind. He doesn't want to hurt you, even unwillingly. You wonder if your eardrums might shatter when you hear his voice again. When you hear his apology, his rejection. He's taking too long for it to not be a rejection.

You wonder if he can tell you're spiraling.

"I can't... I can't return your feelings. As wonderful as they are, as grateful as I am for them, as important as you are to me, I can't return them and I'm sorry."

There is it is. That damn apology. It sears its mark on your chest, but somehow the sting is still bearable. He still loves you. Not in the way you want, not in the way you're desperate for, but he still loves you. Enough to be honest, enough to be sorry, enough to hurt when you hurt. And that makes you smile a little, even through the tears.

You remember all the times that fluttery, jittery feeling in your chest kept you hopeful for better days, kept you eager for tomorrow. All the times you remembered what it was like to wish for something and to dream for something after years of being told you couldn't want anything, shouldn't need anything. These feelings have kept you sane, kept you human, for as long as Soshiro has been by your side so have they. And they were beautiful and they were wonderful and you're glad he finally got to know even a glimpse of them.

You're not sorry for having them and you're not sorry for loving him. If you could do it all over again, right down to his rejection, you'd do it in a heartbeat. He saved you and will probably continue to save you even now that he knows this big secret of yours that you've kept safely tucked away inside the deepest, most genuine parts of your heart.

You're not sorry. And he shouldn't be either.

"Don't apologize, it was the joy of my life being in love with you."

[seeingivy]

Heyy Ronnie! It's my birthday today. I was wondering if you could do a reader x gojo fic where reader is kinda sad on her bday? Like people are showing her love but due to bad previous bdays she feels low sometimes during the day? And she feels like she isn't worthy of the love she's getting now after these years (from friends and parents)? Ofc satoru is by her side telling her good things hehe🥹

birthday pick me up

satoru x f!reader

content: good ol birthday fluff, dad gojo w megs + tsumiki, no evil suguru bc idagf this my fake world we are all happy in it

an: MY BELOVED BABIE!!! I SPEED RAN THIS SO I COULD MAKE SURE IT GOT TO YOU ON YOUR BIRTHDAY. as a fellow emo birthday sharer (the stories in this fic are literally taken from my own birthdays that were horrible lol), i hope you find a way to make this day wonderful. spoiler non spoiler for the fic, another year you fight on is always something to celebrate!!! I wish a wonderful year of happiness and love ahead for you sweetie pie, I hope you have a wonderful, wonderful day <3

--

as you write up the mission report, your fingers splayed right against your temples trying to soothe the tension, the root cause of all problems in your life - your very ridiculous boyfriend - sets something down on your desk. 

you look up to find a very cheeky grin on his face, teetering on that fine line that he toes between bothersome and endearing as he waits for your response. 

“satoru.” 

“yes, my love?” 

“why did you just give me a muffin with wax on it?” 

he frowns, his upper lip jutting out into a soft pout. 

“it’s a cupcake, baby.” 

“where’s the frosting, master chef?” 

he yanks his blindfold down, a guilty smile pressed on his face. 

“in my stomach. you just took so long on your mission and i got so hungry that i just ate some. just a teeny tiny bite.” 

you lift the sad excuse of a cupcake into the air between you two, glaring at him with your eyes narrowed. he gives you a sheepish smile in response, as he leans forward to press a kiss to your forehead in apology. 

“what’s with the wax in the middle?” 

“that’s a candle.” 

“why is there a candle in my non-cupcake?” 

“it’s august first, sweet thing! it’s the start of y/n month!” he responds, so matter of factly like it’s the simplest thing in the world. 

you now realize what’s happening. and you’re going to stop it in your tracks. 

back in december, you surprised satoru and megumi - deeming the entire month of december  their month and giving them little surprises and gifts for the entire thirty one days. it was more for megumi than satoru at first. 

“megs.” 

“yes, y/n?” 

“what flavor birthday cake do you want, kid? we’ll order it soon so it’s all nice and ready to be picked up on friday, okay?” 

you turn around to find him sitting there with a blank face. you walk up to his side, leaning over so your eyes can be level with his. 

“are you one of those kids who hates cake? we can do ice cream, muffins, even vegetables if that’s what tickles your fancy. whatever you want, okay?” 

and when he mutters out those six words, it stops you in your tracks all together. 

“i’ve never had birthday cake before. i don’t know which one i like.”

after he admitted that to you, you made sure that you and satoru went the entire six miles for him, so that he’d love his birthday, so he could feel special. because of course that asshole toji never did it for him. 

you ordered every flavor of cake so he could pick a favorite (vanilla won) and got piles and piles of gifts with the gojo clan money. and since satoru is satoru, you had to make sure he had his fair share of celebration that month too since they were both born in december. 

you never expected them to do it back. and you didn’t want him to either. and it’s not that you don’t appreciate it or don’t love him for wanting to go the extra mile for you because you do, it’s just that…

you hate birthdays. 

after a string of misfortunes year after year, of counting down the days just to be kicked down, has turned you off from the holiday all together. 

after inviting everyone to your fifteenth birthday at the bowling alley, just to have no one show up. to sit there in embarrassment, convincing your parents for hours on end that people will show up, that they’ll eat the cake your mom spent hours making just to take the entire thing home and get an embarrassing reminder every time you opened the fridge. 

or your nineteenth birthday. when your parents had an important graduation party to go to and your siblings were out of town, when you spent the entire day wallowing in your room, your phone absent of notifications. because no one remembered and those who did didn’t care enough to stay. 

year after year, a cruel reminder that a day that’s supposed to be special, that’s supposed to be about you, is anything but. 

you can make sure that megumi, tsumiki, and satoru don’t feel the same. that their special days aren’t tainted. but yours is already far beyond repair and you’d like to keep it where it is. deep in your mind, where no one can touch it. 

“satoru. can we not do y/n month? i-i don’t want to celebrate my birthday.” 

satoru, for all intents and purposes, looks like a kicked dog. 

“what do you mean? you love birthdays!” 

“i love your birthday, ‘toru. and miki and megs too but i don’t want all that for mine. it’s- let’s just pretend its a normal day. i’ll go to work, we’ll eat dinner, and then you can be nice to me and i can get some at the end of the night, if you know what i mean.” you say, giving him a cheeky grin. 

he brings his hands up to your cheeks, cupping your face in his hands. 

“but it’s your birthday, silly. i’ll let you get some, obviously, but we have to do more than that.” he responds, frowning. 

you lean into his touch, his hands moving to snake around your waist as you sigh into his chest. 

“toru. the best present you can give me is if we do nothing. i-i don’t like to think about my birthday because it makes me sad and i just want to have a normal day with the three of you. i-i don’t expect you to understand but can you just do that for me? is that okay?” you ask, looking up at his sparkly blue eyes, in the few moments they’re free from his blindfold. 

he leans forward, to press the softest kiss to your lips, before pulling back. 

“okay. no birthday.” 

you should have known better that satoru gojo does not take no for an answer. 

--

you wake up in the morning to two very smiley faces and one teeny tiny smile staring at you. satoru, tsumiki, and megumi are all wearing matching purple birthday hats, surrounded in a plethora of streamers in your bedroom. the second you flicker your eyes open, they all pop confetti into the air, the sound catching you off guard. 

“oh my-” 

“happy birthday, my love!” satoru responds, excitedly leaning over to kiss you. he leans too hard because then he’s knocked you over, the two of you tangled up in the sheets and the confetti falling on your bed. 

you sit up as megumi and tsumki climb onto the bed with you, tsumki pressing a wet kiss to your cheek while megumi tucks himself into your arm to give you a hug. 

“how did you even do this while i was still in the room?” 

satoru props himself up to pull one of the matching party hats onto your head and press a kiss to your forehead as he explains. 

“you sleep like the walking dead, babe. we literally popped the confetti once before and it didn’t even wake you up.” 

you take in the room in earnest this time, the three of them intently watching you. there are sparkly gold streamers hanging from the wall, a little handmade sign that has tsumiki and megumi written all over it taped to the wall, and a sweet little tray of your favorite breakfast on the side. 

you turn to your left to find satoru looking at you, that stupid, stupid lovestruck grin on his face as he stares you down. 

“you like it, babe?” 

“satoru, you didn’t have to, i just-” 

he clamps his hand over your mouth, feigning his best serious look. 

“i held off for the other twenty four days of august babe. i had so much planned and i threw it all out for you. but you’re going to let me have this one day and do everything i say because it’s your birthday.” 

“shouldn’t you listen to me because i’m the birthday girl?” 

“i only accept that rule when the birthday girl isn’t being stupid.” 

“hey, you just-”

“did you like it, y/n?” 

you place one of your hands in megumi’s hair, who's still tucked into your side, as you crush satoru’s hand in your other hand.

“it really is sweet. thank you. i’ve never had anyone do something like this for me before.” 

satoru gives you a satisfied smile as he leans forward, pressing another kiss to your face. 

“get used to it. you’ve got like fifty more birthdays with me.” he responds, hopping off the bed as he sets the tray in front of you. 

--

satoru wasn’t kidding when he said he was going to go all out. because after breakfast, he takes the three of you out on the town, to go bowling. which is something you were originally against, because in all honestly, you haven’t returned to an alley since your fifteenth birthday. 

but he drags you in by the wrist and you have so much fun that you forget about the entire thing. satoru’s cheater ass runs down the alley when his ball went into the gutter, tsumiki spends the entire time looking for a pink bowling ball and can’t find one, and megumi gets way too excited about the all you can eat nachos that he accidentally ate too many and almost threw up. 

the entire thing is so silly and so genuinely fun that you don’t think about sitting in the alley alone as a kid even once. you’re laughing too hard to even remember.

and when you get home, your entire apartment is decked out this time and all your friends are jumping out at you the second you walk in, pressing warm kisses to your cheek and wishing you a happy birthday. 

of course he did a surprise party. satoru rents out a karaoke machine, makes them all play a game about who knew you best (nanami won, satoru was pissed), made you open gifts, and brought you a real cake with frosting and candles on it. 

and the entire thing makes you so happy, you could cry. 

you stand by the half eaten cake as everyone winds down in the foyer, stuck in their own conversations. and the entire day, the entire ordeal that satoru went to plan this makes your heart squelch as you watch it in front of you. 

but there’s some part of you. thirteen, fifteen, nineteen year old you that still sits in your head. that remembers that pitiful feeling of being alone on your birthday and convinces you that this is a one time thing.

that it’s the exception, not the rule. that your birthday is nothing to celebrate, still. 

you feel a hand snake around your waist and a pair of lips on your neck as satoru wraps himself around you, his voice warm on your neck. 

“did you enjoy today, birthday girl?”

“yeah. I love you, ‘toru. thank you.” 

you lean to the side to press a kiss to his cheek, before you focus back in on megumi and nanami’s very intense chess game that’s going on. 

“princess.” 

“hm?” 

“i know you. tell me what’s going on in that head. you wanted chocolate instead of red velvet, didn’t you?”  

“well, when you put it like that-”

“red velvet and chocolate are the same. it’s just dyed a different color!” 

you laugh as you turn around in his arms, knotting your knuckles together around his neck. 

“no, satoru. you made it perfect and i loved every second.” 

“then?” 

“it’s just weird, love. i’m not sure how to explain.” 

satoru leans down to put his hands around your waist and lift you up onto the counter. you’re both level height now, your face a few inches from him as you try your best to explain the block in your chest. 

“i love that you did this for me, please don’t think i didn’t. but some part of me can’t help but feel less than right now.” you whisper, his eyes washing over in concern. 

“less than what?” 

“i just mean- this is the first time someone has done this for me and i-” you respond, your voice cracking as those hot tears fall out of your eyes. 

he brings his hand up to your cheek, his touch warm. 

“sweetheart. you know you deserve this right? big fancy birthday parties? breakfast in bed and handmade decorations and birthday cards?” 

you can feel the tears pouring out of your eyes even harder at his words, his voice so soft that it makes every untouched wound in your mind hurt. 

“i-i know everyone deserves it logically but it’s just been so many years and no-no one ever wanted to do it for me that i just-no one even cared and i still feel like they don’t-” 

satoru brings his hands around your waist as he leans the majority of his frame into yours, his mouth hovering right by your ear. he’s whispering soft words into your ear as he tells you to calm down, his hands rubbing small circles into your back. 

“y/n. your birthday is very special to me.” 

you bring your hands up to your eyes as you wipe your tears away, pouting at him through the redness on your face. 

“why’s that?” 

“everyday, i’m grateful you were born. that you’re in my life, that you’re with me, that you’re in this world.”

he brings your knuckles up to his mouth as he presses a soft kiss, a beaming, warm smile on his face. 

“the day you were born should always be celebrated. with this intensity, if not more. it’s another day that you, another year that you’re on this earth here with me. with us, living and breathing.” 

he presses a kiss to your cheek before whispering the final words in your ear, that shatter your resolve completely. 

“what is there not to celebrate, sweetheart? it’s just another year i got to spend with you. another year i get to watch you push on past what bothers you, to stay soft when everything around you is hard. another year you keep fighting. that is always, always something to celebrate.” 

you wrap your arms around his neck as he pulls you into his hug, the hold so tight that you can physically feel the pressure in your chest. you must have stirred up some commotion with your crying because they’re all standing at your side now, irritated looks on all of their faces.

“you made her cry, asshole.” shoko says, rolling her eyes at him. 

“you give us a whole lecture about how this day needs to be treated like a national holiday and then your dumbass made her cry?” suguru says, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

you pull away from your hug, laughing at their insistence as satoru starts defending himself, and you can’t help but feel it. 

excited for your birthday next year. 

because you know satoru and you know he’s already planning out the ten miles for y/n month for the next year.

--

taglist: @porridgesblog @k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06 @bsenpai @sweetenertea  @skzismyhome  @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters  @luna0713hunter  @shotenvinsoot  @itzmeme @squirrelspoetry

[nathanbatemanfucker]

In Plain Sight, Ch 5: To Atomize

summary: nathan leaves his house to tell you he loves you.

pairing: nathan bateman x f!reader

contents: 18+/NSFW/MINORS DNI, enemies to lovers (sorta), boss/employee dynamics, mentions of sick/dying parent, pining, dom/sub dynamics, mid love confessions, oral (m + f receiving), p in v sex, creampie, squirting, NATHAN’S SO IN LOVE AND SIMPY AND FREE

wc: 6,138

an: we've sadly reached the end of the main story. thank you thank you for all the support on this fic. a girl watches ex machina once and suddenly is writing 20+k for an asshole simp. i do plan to write the extras fairly quickly (the next month or so) and they'll vary in length. i hope y'all stick around for more of them.

in plain sight masterlist | family dinner | tiana | TIONB | planted | little hamlet

You and Nathan are doing work out on the couch, your legs thrown over his. It’s all very domestic, something the both of you could get used to. 

He doesn’t look up when he asks, “That date out— do you still want it?”

“I do but honestly, I don’t think it’s realistic. You like being out here, Emma and Phillipa shouldn’t be at home by themselves for so long— not to mention my mom.”

“You don’t talk about your mom,” He observes, his eyes rising from his laptop to look at you. 

You continue your work as you talk, “There’s too much to talk about. And nothing at all.”

“And the vagueness returns,” There’s more bite in his voice than he wants there to be, but he can’t help it.

You notice immediately— going rigid like stone before you fix him with an empty gaze. “She’s dying. She can’t work. She sleeps most days. In the mornings before I come here, I read to her and when I get home I tell her I love her and kiss her goodnight. Is that specific enough for you, Mr. Bateman?”

Nathan just looks at you, his eyes for once, void of any emotion to tell you how he’s feeling. Nathan 3 months ago would have stormed away, or said something snarky. But, he just keeps looking at you. The silence makes you uncomfortable and your words replay in your mind over and over, guilt building each time. Your mother’s a tender subject, but Nathan is…more than anyone has ever been to you despite not making that clear to him. You open your mouth to apologize but he shushes, closing his laptop and then yours before he pulls you into his lap and holds you close. 

He kisses at your temple, your forehead, your cheek, “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

It shouldn’t catch you off guard, his affection and tenderness but it does. You melt into him even as your walls go up inside. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not, honey. It’s not. Can you tell me what—“

“Cancer. Off and on since I was in high school.”

“You’ve been taking care of your sisters off and on since they were born?”

You shrug. It was true. In the moment, when you and your mother had made those decisions together— your father wishing and washing his way in and out of your lives whenever he felt like— they hadn’t seemed like a big deal. But, Nathan’s tone can’t help but make you realize how much you’d missed out on because of your duty to your family.

“Shit, honey.”

“It’s alright, Nathan,” You breathe. It’s not, it’s never been okay, but you’ve been telling yourself that for as long as you can remember. 

“It’s not. You’re a good fucking woman. You and your family deserve better.”

“They do deserve better. My sisters don’t have a time remembering her like I do. Before she got sick. That’s fucked up isn’t it?” 

“Yeah, baby, it is.” His hold on your tightens, a hand smoothing up and down your back. “Let me take you out for one night.”

“Nathan, I just said—“

He takes your jaw into his hands, intentional yet gentle with his grip as he guides you to look at him. Those big brown eyes are warm but firm. “We’ll do it in the city. I’ll pick you up from your apartment, you’ll be a phone call away. I’ll bring you home first thing in the morning. C’mon baby, you deserve a break. Let me give it to you.”

—

You agree to Nathan’s advances, like you always do these days. This date takes a lot of coordinating— but somehow it all turned out in your favor. Nathan jokes that it’s because of his god-like will. You’re just happy to take the breather when it’s presented to you. Emma gets invited to her first sleepover, Phillipa’s school is having a lock in. Somehow, Nathan had convinced you to accept him paying for one day of round the clock care for your mother so her usual nurse, Celia, could have a day off too.

You’re realizing that maybe you’re just as gone for him as he is for you. That you believe what he’s said about the depths of his feelings for you and maybe, you’re ready to take the next step and allow yourself to feel them openly for him too. How quickly the tide turns. How quickly Nathan had put in the effort to show how badly he wanted this— you. 3 months ago you could say with sincere surety that you did not like Nathan Bateman. And now…well you were sure you couldn’t deny loving him. 

He tells you to dress formally— it lands you in your favorite black dress, the one that always gives you a boost of confidence and makes you feel good. You’re going to need if your racing thoughts about how your feelings have deepened are any indicator for how the evening will go. And maybe, once or twice, you’ve imagined Nathan peeling you out of it when your fingers slipped beneath your waistband late at night.

When you open the door, Nathan’s in a crisp white button down and slacks, a suit jacket draped over his shoulders— your knees nearly give out. So do his.

“Fuck me,” He breathes.

“My neighbors can hear you,” You remind him breathlessly, your face hot as his eyes slowly trace your figure. 

“They should be lucky we’re not staying here or they’d hear a hell of a lot more. Fuck. You look incredible, baby.”

“My eyes are up here.”

“I’ve seen enough of those.”

“Nathan.”

“Can you fucking blame me? You walk out here in this tight little dress, one I imagine will stay on until after dinner, which is a fucking sin if you ask me. I’m giving commotion for the dress honey, it is what it is. Come here,” He reaches for you, snaking his arm around your waist so he can kiss you thoroughly. When he breaks the kiss he whispers, “Hi.”

Some of your nerves dissipate at his clear attraction to you, his sweetness. You smile against his mouth, bumping his nose with your own. “Hi. You look so handsome.”

“Thank you,” He murmurs, a smug grin spreading across his face. 

“Patience and good manners, you’re a changed man yet.”

“Does that mean if I ask to feel you up in the limo, you’ll say yes?”

“My neighbors, Nathan,” You remind him sternly, though you’re still smiling. 

“Stuffy old fucks probably need a good show.”

“Walk.”

—

The limo ride to the nearby docks is 40  minutes with the traffic — and he helps you out like a gentleman, guiding you to a moderately sized boat. It’s impressive, all cream and blues, the 

“Nathan, why is there a helicopter next to this boat?”

“In case you need to get home,” He says simply, if that explanation is enough. 

“In case— we got here by limo.”

“You’re a phone call and a 10 minute helicopter ride away from your family.”

How were you gonna make it through dinner without dragging him to the ground so you could ruck up your dress and fuck him? He was saying all of this, doing all of this so nonchalantly, like it isn’t the nicest thing anyone has ever done for you.

He leans in, mouth and beard tickling your cheek as his whispers teasingly, “This is usually where people say thank you.”

You lean away, giggling a little. Your tone is suggestive, “What if I’m saving my thank you until after dinner?”

“Finally gonna show me some of those methods? It’s been driving me fucking nuts, honey.”

“Depends on how good you are.”

Nathan bites back a moan. This is all so fucking surreal. Being out of his home, being with you. Learning more and more about you, seeing you. Being yours and you being his. It’s more than he could’ve hoped for. He thought he would’ve fucked up by now— and he has, but you held a selfless amount of patience in your heart. He finds himself feeling…grateful? It’s an unfamiliar feeling, one he pushes away from a young age. 

“Don’t be filthy before dinner,” He murmurs lowly.

“You‘ve been eyeing my tits since you picked me up,” You challenge. 

“I’ve been appreciating them, there’s a difference. You ever been on a boat before?”

You eye the boat thoughtfully, “My mom used to take me on the ferry. Does that count?”

Nathan hums. He hasn’t ushered you onto the boat just yet, the two of you standing out on the docks in the salty breeze. It’s nice, being out in the fresh air like this, the water dark as the sun finishes dipping below the horizon. He’d anticipated much more anxiety given his hermit tendencies but it was just you and him and the few staff he’d hired to manage the boat. 

“Do you want to name it?” He blurts out all of a sudden.

“Name what?”

“The boat,” He nods towards the ship. 

You frown, confused. “You haven’t named the boat?”

“I bought it last week.”

“Nathan, did you buy this boat to take me out on a date?”

“Yes I did,” He says with no shame. 

All of that will be an adjustment, the blasé way that he spends money— especially when he spends it on you. You know that he has a fuck ton of it but still; you’ve never lived a life of luxury. 

“Do all employees get this sign-on bonus?” You tease.

“Hush, cheeky girl. Name the boat.”

You grow thoughtful, and that thoughtfulness quickly melts into a melancholic, wistful feeling. You think about your mom. How she’s been swayed back and forth by the tide of life, doing her best to float above it all. It would be nice wouldn’t it, to name something after the woman you love most?

“Boats are named after strong women. So I think…Tiana,” You murmur, voice full of emotion. You clear your throat quickly, hoping he doesn’t notice. 

But Nathan’s obsessed with you— and now that you’ve let him in, he can sense every push and pull. He maneuvers you so that your back is flush with his front. “I like it. Tiana…is that your mother?”

You don’t trust your voice. You simply hum, nodding a little bit as you press back against him. 

He squeezes you tighter, “It’s perfect, baby. Absolutely fucking perfect.

He cups your jaw with one hand, guiding your gaze to his. He’s never seen you nonverbal like this before, never seen sadness in your eyes like this. It makes his chest ache. He guides your mouth to his, kissing you with gentle reverence you never would’ve guessed he was capable of until recently.

Nathan just holds you, letting you melt against him in silence for an undetermined amount of time. His worry grows. “Do you want to call the nurse before we sit down for dinner? Emma? Phillipa?”

Finally, you speak. “No. No, it’s alright. I spend the entire day away from all of them when I’m working for you— I can do this.”

“Just say the word, okay, sweetheart?”

You lean in to give him a soft peck of appreciation, “Yes, I will. Thank you, Nathan.”

Dinner is much more elaborate than it had to be— but this is Nathan you’re talking about, a man with practically the entire world at his fingertips. Of course a 10 course meal makes sense to him. Not that you’re complaining about a personal sized crawl through Italy; breads and antipasto, pastas of all sorts, wines that are perfectly paired, and to end your favorite dessert from the first time the two of you shared a meal together. Despite his underestimating himself and his chaste manner, you think that Nathan is good at romance. He’s great at romance. By the time you’re finishing the last bite, you’re warm and full, a little buzzed and most importantly— needy for him. 

Your entire body is craving his. You’ve denied your desires and his for long enough. You need him, you feel like you might go insane with lust— with love, if you don’t have him. 

“Are we sleeping here?” 

“There’s a suite downstairs, or there’s a hotel nearby I reserved. It’s your call.”

“Here…here is good. Will you take me to bed?” You ask, nonchalantly. 

Nathan chokes on the wine he’s sipping, setting it down to looking at you more intently. “Take you to bed,” He repeats.

“Yes, Nathan, take me to bed,” You practically purr at him this time, voice low and smoky.

Nathan has had  lots of sex in his life, never been flustered or taken aback by anyone. He’s accepted that all of his past experiences go out the window when it comes to you, but he doesn’t expect such a strong reaction out of himself when faced with the opportunity to finally ravish you. He feels like if he stood up right now, his legs would give out like jello. 

The way you’re looking at him— he’s sure no one has ever looked at him like this in his entire life. Carnal and hungry, like when you kissed him breathless in the forest, but more intense. It’s almost overwhelming. He’s never been consumed before, and that’s exactly how you’re looking at him. Like you’re going to swallow him whole. His cock twitches and he takes a deep breath.

“Come here,” He says softly, pushing away from the table and holding his hand out for you.

You stand, moving closer to him but don’t take his hand. “If I touch you…if we start here, I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop.”

Nathan feels winded. He squeezes his eyes shut, and nods. “Fuck, honey, alright. Follow me.”

Nathan guides you through the dining room and down a hall, not even bothering to mention what doors the two of you pass. His heart is pounding in his chest— he’s ready for this, been ready for so long and he wants this to mean something. He had been ready to wait as long as you needed in order for this moment to be everything it can be. 

The suite he takes you to is larger than you anticipated it to be, but you can’t bring yourself to care. As soon as Nathan shuts the door behind you, you practically launch yourself at him, your hands starting at where his shirt is tucked into his pants. You ruck it up, leaning forward to kiss him.

“Whoa, mmm,” He hums into your mouth. His hands finally fall to cup your ass, kneading and squeezing the way he’s wanted to for hours now. “You been this desperate the whole time?”

“Have you?” You counter as you press him against the door, grinding your hips against his. You can feel him through the fabric of his trousers, and it makes your mouth water. 

“Fuck, baby, lemme get you on the bed at least,” He breathes when he feels the way your hips rut.

You pull away, looking at him with bright but hazy eyes— like he’s just come up with some revolutionary idea. “The bed, right. Come here.”

You start to walk backwards, guiding him with you by his shirt. Once the back of your thighs hit the bed, you switch positions with him, encouraging him to sit down so that you can straddle him. Nathan feels weightless— this is like his dream come true. Just a couple months ago he was jerking himself off imagining a sight like this, and now he was living it. 

Looking up at you, he feels warm. Fuzzy. Like he’s in the safest place he’ll ever be in. With his limited data and hope, trust— things he’s never had with anyone— he knows that he is. This is all he’ll ever need. You’re all he’ll ever need. He loves you so much it hurts. 

“Baby,” He sighs, guiding your mouth down to his. Where your mouth is hurried and insistent, his is lazy and indulgent. He wants to savor every moment.

“Hmm,” You hum grinding down against his clothed cock in a move that makes both of you moan. 

“I fucking love you.”

You lean away, eyes wide with alarm. Part of you, most of you, thought that to be true. Well— whatever he was capable of feeling that was close to love. He’s proved himself to you. All of his intentions, his actions, his words— no matter how haphazard he’s been in communicating them— have been pure. While just a few months ago you were sure Nathan could love no one but himself, you’re sure now that he’s being completely honest. It sends you further into your frenzy. He loves you. 

Nathan Bateman fucking loves you. 

You’re quiet for so long that he feels antsy. There’s no regret, no anger in his heart like he thought there could be when first pursuing you. But he is starting to feel small, like a nuisance like his parents made him feel all those years ago. 

“Really?” You ask breathlessly, unsure if it’s from his declaration or your body’s response to being pressed against him like this. 

He scoffs, squeezing your hips, “Really? You think I fucking—“

“Okay, alright, I love you too.”

“Really?”

You fix him with narrowed eyes. Of course you get scolded but he gets to do the exact same thing as you. It’s very Nathan. It makes you love him more. 

“Nathan.”

“My really is fucking justified, I’m some asshole, you’re…you’re the moon. The sun. The sky. I’m not good at this poetic shit but I mean it.”

“You’re the sweetest, most thoughtful, insightful and just— kind. I know what you’re thinking, I know that something or someone’s taught you not to think that you’re kind and worthy but you are. Even if you’re an asshole and a clown, you are. And I love you.”

“We’re fucking corny and sickly sweet and so cliche. I could vomit,” He says, his grin wide and genuine. 

You nuzzle into him, laughing softly at the tickle of his beard, “You would study it, see if it quantified any of your love for me.”

“So you think I’m disgusting,” He murmurs, using his grip on you to rock your hips down against his cock. 

The pressure is sweet, and you shiver even as you try to get your voice even. “Am I wrong?”

He laughs a little, eyes fluttering when you help him rock you down even further, “No.”

You reach up to remove his glasses, bending to set them on the side of the bed— you didn’t want to break them, now with how you were about to ravish him. “Kiss me, Nathan.”

Usually, he needs to be told things once, twice, and again but this request Nathan obeys immediately. His hands start to travel up your body, fingers sliding under the fabric of your dress to expose inch after inch of your precious skin. His eyes are closed as he bares you to him, pulling down the cups of your bra so your breasts spill out, but he can feel how beautiful you are under his fingertips. Smooth and soft, fitting perfectly in his grasp.  Every touch, every kiss is electric. His hands skate up your stomach, cupping your breasts before he takes your nipples between his fingers, rolling them gently.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck, you feel so good. So good,” He mumbles into your mouth, his fingers still working, eager to hear the soft little sound you made.

You melt into him, nodding frantically as you continue to sip from his mouth. “You too.”

Nathan breaks away from your mouth, biting and kissing his way down your neck, sucking a faint mark into your skin. More. He wants more of you, and you more of him. He kisses a trail between your breasts before leaning in, suckling one of your nipples into his mouth. You taste so fucking good. Like honey and cocoa, so delicious. Not for the first time, Nathan thinks about how much he wants to consume you. Or be consumed. He can’t choose, his head is spinning and he’s getting more frantic, shaking beneath you as he sucks and nips at you. 

You can feel yourself getting lost in him, but this isn’t what you’ve thought about all these months. He feels incredible, his mouth is warm, his hands sure. The pleasure that’s blooming all over your body is one you'll never give up. But, no, for all these months, you’ve thought about turning him into a whining, shivering mess. You’ve thought about making him cum over and over until he can think of nothing but you. 

You lean away, cupping your face in your hands,  “Wait— please, let me touch you. I get off all the time, but I haven’t touched a man in so long. I wanna see you.”

“Honey—“

Your hands fall, gripping his shirt and ripping at it. Buttons scatter as you work him out of the shirt, leaning in to coax his mouth open for you once more.  “Let me make you cum. Please, I need it.”

“That’s what you want?” He asks skeptically.

“Yeah, and you’d give me anything, wouldn't you? You ask, tilting your head at him expectantly.

“I’d give you anything,” He confirms.

You slid out of his lap, reaching behind to unclasp your bra and discard it. It leaves you in nothing but black lace panties. “Then take your pants off.”

All Nathan can do for several moments is stare at you, his mouth agape, ready to drool. He could believe he’s died and gone to heaven, except he doesn’t believe such a place exists. And if he did, he would not end up in a place where he would be so privileged to be met with the sight of you. You're an angel in the most sinful way.

“Nathan,” You coo when he doesn’t move, a soft grin on your face.

“Sorry,” He mumbles, a soft blush rising in his cheeks. 

It’s adorable, it makes the heat in your lower belly burn brighter. You can feel yourself getting wetter for him by the second. “I thought about you like this so much.”

“Could've fooled me,” He heaves, trying to seem less affected than he is. That boat sailed the moment you asked him to take you to bed. 

You laugh softly at his words, dropping to your knees and resting your hands on his broad thighs.  “Don’t be snarky, baby, just let me make us feel good. You want that don’t you?”

Nathan shivers, even as your warm, honeyed voice glides across his skin. God he knew you’d be like this, knew he’d bend to your will so easily but to hear it and feel it. “I do,” He sighs, allowing you to guide him to sit down on the edge of the bed.

Your eyes are dark with hunger, and you lick your lips a little as you look up at him. “God, your cock’s so fucking pretty. Can I put my mouth on you?”

“You can do whatever you want to me,” He whispers earnestly.

You aren’t gentle or patient or thoughtful about letting him adjust. You take Nathan’s cock completely, so deep that he feels like he’s starting to enter your stomach. It takes everything in him to keep his hips down, a will that crumbles when you swallow, your throat tightening around him. The sound you make is a cross between a gag and a satisfied hum. You pull off without missing a beat, spitting on the tip of his cock and lifting a hand to grip and pump him.

“Mmm, shit, that’s really…that’s really fucking—“ Nathan babbles incoherently, words cutting off. 

You start in on him again, your head bobbing up and down as you take him over and over again. The noises he’s making have you squeezing your thighs together. Soft and breathy and so so sweet. You peer up at him wanting to see how he looks. The flush in his cheeks is deeper and redder, his eyes somehow sharp and hazy all at once. Seeing him so vulnerable, gooey and nearing the peak of pleasure you don’t stop, sucking harder, allowing the tip of his cock to go deeper.

One of his hands falls to your shoulders, gripping it gently, “Wait— wait— fuck, hold on baby, just,”

Carefully, you pull off of him, wiping at the trail of spit that connects your mouth to his cock. You look up at him with those sweet little eyes, like you haven’t nearly sucked what little of a soul lies within him. “Hmm?”

“Wanna cum inside you, please.”

“This is you cumming inside me,” You challenge, kissing at the head of his cock.

“Inside your pussy,” He gasps, the vein that trails down the center of his forehead on display as he fights to stay still—as he holds back.

You rest your head on his thigh, looking up at him like he’s hung the moon. The sight alone almost makes him cum. 

“Say, please,” You whisper.

“Please, sweetheart.”

“You’re so good, do you know that?” You ask him softly, reaching up to cup his face. 

“Good?” He asks with a furrowed brow. The word directed at himself feels clumsy in his mouth. 

“Good,” You repeat as confirmation. “So good that you’re gonna lay back against those pillows without another word aren’t you?”

Processing your words, he simply nods, helping you to your feet before he scoots back, propped up against the pillows, looking so devilishly handsome. If you stared at him long enough, you’re sure you could cum from just this sight. But why torture yourself like that, when you’re this close to having him buried inside you? Body humming with anticipation you crawl up the bed, straddling him once more. 

“Do you want to feel how wet I am?” 

“Yes,” He answers quickly before tacking on, “please.” 

That sentence alone shows just how much Nathan Bateman is a changed man. Please without being promoted? Atop apologies and vulnerability and love confessions. 

You hold your panties to the side for him, “Go on then. Touch me, baby.”

Nathan’s eyes track to where your pussy runs along his cock, burning hot. He reaches for you, letting his fingers sweat through your folds, causing both of you to moan. You’re so fucking wet, dripping, glistening in the warm lamplight. 

“For me?” He asks, voice and hands trembling as he finds your clit, pressing his thumb against it.

“For you. Because you’re so fucking good for me. Good to me.”

Every fucking word out of your mouth pulls his closer to his release. He needs to be inside you, he can feel the clock ticking. “Can I fuck you now, honey? Please, I need to feel you.”

“Who knew Nathan Bateman would beg?”

“On my knees for the rest of my fucking life, baby.”

You can picture it, except in your dreams, Nathan’s beard is shining with your slick. Your breath catches, and you grow too needy to continue teasing him. It takes you just a few seconds to line him up with your entrance, giving neither of you time to adjust as you sink down on him completely. His back arches, huffing a heavy, labored breath. He’s sweating, he can feel it, his skin slick underneath your fingertips as your pussy grips him so deliciously tight. You’re dripping down his cock already.

“Fuck, honey—,” He laughs, squeezing at your hip, nearly pushing you off to hold on. “Fuck me, you couldn’t have— warned a guy?”

“Sorry,” You breathe, grinning down at him, “needed to fuck you.”

Nathan’s eyes roll as you rock your hips, completely breathless, “Shit—your pussy’s so fucking tight. So hot, you been saving this all for me?”

You bend, your nose resting against his as you gaze into him, “Savor it— don’t think. Don’t control. Just enjoy it, Nathan. Be with me. Give in to me. Say yes.”

“Yes,” He slurs, drawn out and drunk on you. 

You guide his hands to either side of his head, holding them down by his wrists as you start to move, your pussy taking his cock the way your throat had with even more ease. The two of you fit together so perfectly, your cunt swallowing his entire length over and over, pleasure mounting higher and higher inside you. Nathan’s winning the fight against his body now. He’s happy to submit to you, it feels so good, so perfectly sweet, like he was made to be underneath you like this. But his body screams for release, to roll you over and fuck you hard until you squeeze his cock so tight there’s no choice in his cumming.  

“Wanna cum…wanna cum in your pussy,” He whines, his hips lazily rocking up to meet yours. 

“You will baby, I’ll let you fill me up,” You assure him, slowing the rhythm of your hips, teasing yourself and him for a moment as you close your eyes and let yourself really feel every single inch of him.

Nathan’s lips are parted slightly, pink and flushed, soft gasps leaving him as your hips grind down against his. You remove one of your hands from his wrists, leaning back so you have room to run your thumb over the swell of his bottom lip.

“You okay, baby?”

“Yeah,” He says, his words syrupy, “feels good. So good.”

“Let me in there,” You murmur, tapping two of your  fingers against his lips, and he opens wide immediately. You purposefully clench your cunt around him, a small reward for his obedience and he groans, his back arching as pleasure burns in his veins. 

“I’m gonna soak your cock,” You tell him matter of factly.

Nathan’s eyes go wide, his chest rising fast as his lungs beg for air. No matter what he does its not enough. He’s drowning in you, there’s nothing he can do about it. There’s nothing he really wants to do about it. “Soak my—“

“Nice and wet, all over you. Gonna make us messier,” You whisper, like the sound of his cock gliding in and out of you isn’t already obscene. “You want that don’t you, Nathan?”

He doesn’t have words, just soft, needy sounds. Pleading round eyes. Shallow, noisy breaths. It’s all the answer you need.

“I know, baby. I know. Cum whenever you need to, I’ll make it,” The gentle tone of your voice doesn’t match the devious look in your eyes. 

You know exactly what you’re doing. You know his cock aches with the need to release, know he’s fighting this because he never wants this to end. Know that he’s never been this deep in subspace in his life, that he’ll obey any command you give him.

You shift up on your knees, until you’re taking nothing but the tip, and then rock back, taking him as deep as you can. Bending to your will, Nathan cums with a sound that can only be described as sweet agony. 

As he fills you up, your hips slip into a grind, pressing and pressing the tip of his cock against the sensitive spot inside you. You can feel it coming now, you know just how to twist your hips, just how long to rub at your clit to make it happen. Your thighs grow tight, your cunt clenching as it starts to milk him for everything he’s got. You gush around him, the sound so wet and filthy that Nathan thinks he might cum again. Your slick is everywhere; your thighs, your stomach and all over Nathan, his lower belly glistening with you. He looks down and groans again, need rising sharply in his chest. He wants to taste you. 

“Let me taste you, please. Drown me,” He begs, one of his hands shakily reaching for where the two of you connect.

Your hands fall to the pillows on either side of his head, propping you up from where you’d since collapsed onto him. “Nathan, baby, you’re tired—“

But, Nathan is desperate— as desperate as you were when you asked him to take you to bed, you can hear it in his voice as he pleads, “Sit on my face. Please, please, please, baby. Fucking, please. Let me eat your pussy.”

Your lost to him and his begging. With the little strength you have left, you shuffle up, getting you thighs on either side of his head, gently lowering yourself down through the burn of your muscles. Nathan has another idea, weakly reaching for you and effectively smothering himself in your pussy. Its messy, the sounds of his mouth as he licks and sucks at your clit like a starved man. Like you two hadn’t just stuffed yourselves full at dinner. 

“Nathan,” You mumble, trying to steady yourself by leaning against the headboard. His beard tickles against your thighs, but makes the work of his mouth even better, brushing each and every bit of your sensitive pussy.

Despite your plea, Nathan is insatiable, pulling you down by his grip on your ass. He’s gasping and whining into your cunt, like it's all too much and too little at the same time. He can hardly breathe with how firmly he’s got you pressed against his face, though he wouldn’t change his position for the world. He would happily die here if it was what you wanted.

He can feel your thighs shaking against the sides of his head and knows that you’re close to cumming. Doubling his efforts, Nathan switches from running his tongue through your folds to focusing solely on your clit, circling and circling in a maddening technique. When you fall apart on his tongue, he presses his tongue inside of you, eager to drink up every single drop of your sweet honey. 

He feels like he’s cumming again, his cock jerking behind you though there’s nothing for him to release. He feels like he’s been split right open, all of his tender, vulnerable spots on display.

It takes several minutes for Nathan to come back to himself once you shift off of his face, laying your body against his. He’s gasping for air with tightly shut eyes, his entire body shaking. You run a hand up and down his chest, cooing soft praises as you try to soothe him. 

He stares at the ceiling, steadying his breaths. “Jesus fucking Christ, baby. You’re the filthiest person I’ve ever met.”

You tilt your chin to look up at him, admiring the shine of his beard that’s completely covered in you. A mark that he’s yours. “Thank you.”

The grin on your face— you’re trying to fucking kill him. How many times has he thought since he’s started this endeavor of winning your heart and why is it not over now that he has? Your grin is smug, full of fire, the fire he’s wanted from the moment he laid his eyes on you. He loves you so fucking much. If this is what he gets, he’ll be better for the rest of his life. He’ll move to the city, do the house in the crowded suburbs with the picket fence, get married. Have kids, and attend the most boring PTA meetings that plan bake sales. Bake sales where he’d have to make cookies— real cookies, not the ones with coconut sugar and almond flour, and low sugar chocolate. If it was what you wanted he’d do it all. Any of it at the drop of a hat.

“What are you thinking about?” You trace small shapes on his chest, enjoying the post-coital cuddle. 

“You.”

“What about me?”

“That you’re everything,” He says easily. It’s nice— the reservations, the anxiety that he had about all of this has faded in the shadows. 

With you, Nathan gets to be completely honest, knowing that he’s safe. None of what his parents said was true. He’s not unlovable. He’s not selfish. He isn’t just a fuck up that can never amount to anyone’s expectations. Despite his mistakes, he’s allowed to be loved. 

“Remember when I was just your employee?” You ask teasingly, snuggling further into him.

“Fuck, I was an idiot for months. Best thing I’ve ever had, dangling in front of me in plain sight.”

“Not Bluebook?”

“No.”

“Or buying that property?”

“No.”

“The money?”

“No.”

“Your freedom?”

He snorts, “My freedom?”

“You said I could do whatever I wanted to you,” You remind him. 

“And I fucking meant it.”

“It doesn’t sound very…freeing. Very Nathan,” You muse softly. 

Nathan’s quiet for a long time— so long that you grow nervous, afraid that you’ve said the wrong thing. Just as you’re about to sit up to apologize, he wraps his arms around you, dropping a kiss on your forehead, “This, sweetheart, is the freest I’ve ever been in my life.” 

Fin

nathan taglist: @missdictatorme, @hon3yboy, @runa-falls, @campingwiththecharmings, @toracainz, @steven-grants-world, @clemdango04, @jdbxws, @crispysublimecupcake, @sub-aro, @faretheeoscar, @cupidysm, @whentheskyispinkandabitblue, @nova-ivy541, @sparkypantelones, @veritable-trash, @mangoslushcrush, @thhriller @tenderhornynihilist, @queerponcho

[lovelaurs]

hey could you write a mcd Zane x little sister reader who also never got attention as a kid pls 🙏

AN UNDERSTANDING | part 1

you can find part 2 here!

pairing : mcd priest zane x gn reader synopsis : you enter the church of o'khasis in search of some solace, and find yourself within the confession booth. after living a life of being the neglected youngest sibling, you vent your frustrations to the mysterious church member on duty. but as you continue talking, the advice the person gives you seems almost... personal, and a bond begins to grow. tags : past neglect mention, trauma bonding, confession (as in the booth kind), advice, verbal comfort, slight (sacrligious?) romance word count : 1.2k a/n : first off, i'd like to mention that i am jewish, so if this fic is in any way innacurate, that is why! i decided, "hey, maybe i should delve more into the concept of priest zane a bit more for sillies!". so... here we are! if there is anything offensive about this at all, please tell me and i will change it! it is not in my intent! - also, i'd like to mention that even though the request said "sister", this is in fact gender neutral, as i have stated in my rules that i will not write gendered readers! do not be upset at this.

MASTERLIST

You couldn’t help the frown on your face as you walked to the massive church ahead.

O’khasis was widely known for being the most religious village out there, so it was just your luck that you lived within the confines of the walls.

Almost as lucky as being the neglected fourth born to your family.

That was why you came here; in hopes of speaking to a member of the church to help seek out some sort of solace within your life.

As you pushed open the door to the holy building, you quickly noticed a nun nearby, packing up for the day.

“Um, excuse me, miss?” You asked as you approached the woman. She turned to look at you with curiosity. “I’m here for the confession booth. Is there any chance I could speak to someone?”

She shook her head with a sigh, as someone exited a room nearby, silently praying to themself as they weeped. “I’m afraid you just missed the cut off, hun. That was the last member for today.”

“Oh. I see…” The disappointed look on your face must have been evident considering her hurried followed up words.

“But- We open tomorrow at seven if you wish to seek an audience with one of our esteemed Higher Ups!” She gave a warm smile, hoping to cheer you up.

You nodded, beginning to turn away and go back to your lousy packed house. “Thank you, and I’m sorry for wasting your time-”

Before you could finish your farewell, the door in which the previous person had left had creaked open.

“Relax, Sister Clarice. I do not mind taking in another lost soul.” The voice had sent shivers down your spine as they spoke, and it seemed the same for Sister Clarice as well, who looked almost nervous to be referred to by the Higher Up. “Come now, do not be afraid to share your troubles with me.”

You took one look at Sister Clarice, who nodded in agreement, before you walked over to the room the confession booth was held in.

As you opened the door, you noticed the room was empty, only seeing the door to the confession booth closed as you entered.

I guess this Higher Up valued their privacy.

You slowly walked towards the confession booth as you heard a deep chuckle. “Do not worry, I don’t bite.”

Okay, well that just made you more nervous.

You gulped as you stepped into the wooden box, situating yourself in the cramped space before turning to the little hole provided.

As the wooden plank slides over, you once again heard that chilling deep voice, instead this time from the other side.

“Go on, child of Irene, what is it your mind struggles with?”

The question was so simple, and yet your response was so… complicated. What if they didn’t understand your grief, your struggles, your pain?

“It’s been a recurring thing ever since I was born.” You began. “I was born the youngest sibling, which in some families would garner me more attention… but in my family, all it garnered was neglect.”

You paused as the voice hummed, listening intently to your story.

“I’ve never been the focus of… well, anything. Even my day of birth was more-or-less about my older siblings instead.” You took a deep breath in as you recounted the day. “My parents always focused on my oldest sibling the most, working on helping them harness their craft and knowledge in order to succeed in their name-sake. But, the younger the child was, the less attention we would get. And me being the youngest? Well… I ended up forgotten by the end of the day.”

You allowed yourself to pause, hoping that maybe the church member on the other side would have something to say.

It was quiet for but a moment before the deep vibrato of their voice filled the air.

“I have actually experienced– sorry, heard such things before from others.” They cleared their throat, taking a second of pause. “It seems to be… an often occurrence in which parents would favor their eldest over their youngest.” They paused, before whispering to themself, “Even if the younger child is clearly superior to the elder.”

You couldn’t help but tilt your head at the muttering from the other booth. What did they say?

Again, they cleared their throat, before hesitating to speak.

When they did speak, it seemed to be more of a surprising response indeed.

“I do not wish to break the confidentiality that is my own life, but… I too have experienced this as well.” You raised your eyebrow at the comment. Them? A Higher Up at the Church of O’Khasis? What could they have suffered? 

“My… father tended to ignore me for many years. He always praised and pushed forward my older brother, always seemingly ignoring his other child; me.” And yet again, he began whispering to himself, “The bastard of a child, Vylad, doesn’t count… he never did.” He coughed before continuing. “It wasn’t until I took the reins of my own life into my hands that I finally felt free.”

When you entered this box, you weren’t exactly expecting advice, but more-so a verdict on if you were sinful in the way you did not completely adore your parents. The fact that you’re getting a relatable side back from whoever this was… it meant a lot. Being able to relate to someone in power felt helpful.

“I’m suggesting you work hard to pave your own destiny in life. Prove your parents wrong, and show them that they aren’t holding you back.” Their voice sounded almost softer, not the same grand deep voice you originally were greeted with. “Grow stronger and more powerful than them, so that one day you can overtake their lead.” Okay, maybe this is getting a bit too personal for them. What the hell was this going.

“So… I should carve my own path and prove myself greater than my parents ever thought?” You asked. “Precisely.”

You swallowed deeply, gripping your hands into fists. “Forgive me for saying this, but… you come from a place of wealth. That’s easier for you to say since you’re given more opportunities, even though some less than your older sibling.” You felt sweat pool at your forehead, who were you to question someone of the Church of O’Khasis within the church itself? “I am in no means able to simply make a name for myself without my family’s help…”

“Then allow me to help.” You could hear the opposite side’s door open, footsteps signaling them exiting the booth. “Come out, my dear.”

You hesitantly reached for the handle, slowly opening the wooden door. As you stepped out into the room, your eyes immediately widened as you realized to whom you have been speaking to.

Zane Ro’Meave, the Great Priest of O’Khasis.

Oh my Irene what have you done.

He approached you slowly, his hands held behind his back as he smirked, looking you up and down.

He brought his hand to his chin, seemingly pondering something. “Hm… I could see this working.”

Your nervousness grew even more so at the comment.

It wasn’t until he kneeled in front of you, taking your hand in his and kissing it that your heart started beating even more rapidly, your face flushing with color.

“How would you like a place amongst my staff?”

@lovelaurs, 2024. do not repost this work in any way!

[cuubism]

Hope for the Future

~2k, Dreamling, 1589 era, post-Eleanor's death, dream conversations and revelations. cw death in childbirth

Dream and Hob meet at Eleanor's deathbed, in a fashion.

--

Ages ago I wrote Patron Saint, a fic about Hob's friendship with Death. For a while I wanted to write a companion piece from Dream's POV since Dreamling is a background ship in that fic but their trajectory is different from canon. But lbr it's been 2 years and I haven't done that-- early on, though, I did write one scene from Dream's POV because I wanted to flesh out a potential moment that Death mulls on in Patron Saint, when she was visiting Hob after Eleanor and the baby died:

“So many babies die,” Hob says. “Mothers, too, I—” he runs a hand through greasy, disheveled hair. “Do you think it will be better in the future? Because I haven’t seen that much improved. Not in my time.” “I imagine so, yes,” Death says. Dream would be able to answer this question for him better. Dream would be able to tell him what doctors might be imagining solutions to the problem, what midwives were dreaming of new ways to care for their charges. Hope for the future is Dream’s business, whether he accepts it or not. She wishes Dream were here. She has a strong feeling Hob would find even his stoic pretense at apathy comforting. Caring for others is strange like that.

Anyway I wanted that scene, I wrote that scene, I didn't write anything else to flesh out a companion piece but I think it stands on its own and can be understood even without reading the original fic.

--

Dream would assert that he did not care about Hob Gadling. He was not interested in Hob Gadling, beyond a passing curiosity in his approach to humanity, sated every hundred years. He was certainly not thinking about Hob Gadling, or his wife and small child and knighthood and other life goals he’d managed to accrue in this century. 

And yet, as he felt a particularly vicious nightmare go for Hob in his sleep, not long after their last meeting, he took note. 

He wasn’t sure why he took note. Perhaps because Hob had been on such a disgusting high last they’d met, it seemed strange for this to happen now. Perhaps because he knew this nightmare particularly well, had crafted it from deep in his own soul, as he so rarely did.

He followed the thread of the nightmare. 

Hob was running. Both from and after something at once. A darkness chased him. And another darkness retreated from him.

“Wait!” he yelled, reaching for it. Smoke slipped through his hands. Hob heaved for breath, stumbling to a stop as he ran out of air. He leaned on his knees, panting and coughing. “Wait,” he sobbed, but the darkness did not wait.

The other wave of darkness caught him, knocking him off his feet so he sprawled on the ground, hands scraping on the dirt. It didn’t attack him, just hovered over him like a blanket of fog, blocking the meager light. 

“You weren’t supposed to go,” Hob said into the darkness. It didn’t reply.

It was not an unreasonable nightmare for a father to have, Dream knew well enough. But the sharpness of those dark shadows – this nightmare was not pure fiction. It was drawing more from memory than he’d thought.

“Enough of this drama,” he commanded the nightmare. “Show me the truth of things.”

The scene of darkness faded to reveal an ordinary, if well-appointed bedroom. An air of sickness hovered, and death also – Dream could feel the echo of his sister near. 

A sickly woman, heavily pregnant, lay in the bed, and it was she that Dream knew was calling Death forth. She, and the tiny baby cradled in her womb, not quite ready to be born, and now would never be.

And Hob – not dying, he couldn’t, but he looked about as close to it as a man could come. Ashen, shaky, trembling.

“I love you,” he was saying, kissing Eleanor’s hand. “You know?”

This was still a dream, and this had all already occurred, Dream knew. There was nothing he could do here, not that he would. He turned to go, feeling stiff and cold in a way he decidedly did not like, when Hob looked up, and saw him.

Dream had not meant to be seen.

“My friend,” said Hob, surprise temporarily wiping the grief from his features. “You’re here.”

“I… am,” Dream conceded, and, drawn in despite himself, sat in a chair beside Hob. 

“I’m grateful for it,” said Hob. Dream didn’t know what he could possibly be providing that Hob was grateful for. Then, “There’s no hope, is there? I mean. I don’t know why I’d think you would know.”

Dream looked at the mother and baby before him. Hob had called him friend. A friend, he thought, would tell Hob that there was always hope. But that was not what Dream believed.

“I do not think so,” he said. “I am… sorry.”

Hob sighed. He was still holding Eleanor’s hand. “I have to tell you, I– whatever I might’ve said to you at our last meeting, I’m struggling to feel any of it right now.”

“That is understandable.” More understandable, Dream thought, than his declaration of Life is rich! that Dream had found so hard to swallow.

“I’ve known others who’ve lost wives, children,” Hob said, and Dream looked down. Hob would have no way of knowing who those others might have included. “But I guess I always thought, not me, never me, never my Eleanor. Not until she was old and gray, anyway. But I guess everyone thinks that, don’t they?”

“Perhaps.” Dream thought he himself had always known the cost would come due. Destiny might have said that was one of the reasons it did come due. You make your own end. But that would not help Hob.

“It’s got to get better,” Hob asserted. “It’s got to. It’s got to stop some day, doesn’t it? All these children, and mothers dying.”

The instinct to sneer at his optimism jumped up Dream’s throat, but he managed to bite it off. He did not want to be… cruel, he realized, to someone who was suffering. Especially within a dream; dreamers’ minds were not for him to subject to his own feelings.

“In Guangzhou,” he started slowly, the dreams coming to him like a light rainfall, “there is a doctor who has just crafted a new medicine to ease pain during childbirth. She has been dreaming of it for years. In Oyo, a healer is learning to tell earlier and earlier when a pregnancy is troubled, that they might intervene in time. A few months more, and they will have it. And down the street, here in London, a midwife is just planting the seeds for the hospital she will open to help unwed mothers with nowhere to turn.”

Hob stared at him. He seemed to be holding his breath.

“Dreamers abound,” Dream said, “but it takes time for their work to come to fruition.”

Hob continued to watch him. Something shifted in his eyes, as he looked at Dream. Dream wasn’t certain he liked it. 

“You know everything, don’t you?” Hob said.

“Not everything.”

“You know all of that,” Hob mused, “all these things that are happening. And… you still come to ask me if I wish to live?”

Dream bristled, and Hob raised his hands in surrender. “Never mind, never mind, forget I said anything. You’re entitled to your own feelings on the matter. Thank you, for those stories. It helps. Truly. And I’m glad that I’ll get to see it. One day.”

“‘One day,’” Dream echoed. “‘One day’ is a time when no children die and no famine walks the earth, when soldiers break their swords before the fight, and later bread with their enemies. One day is always one step into the future, Hob Gadling. Ever-moving.”

“Aye,” said Hob. “That’s the point.” 

Dream frowned. What pleasure could be derived from wanting and wanting, and never having, he could not fathom. He had crafted nightmares thus. What hope to find in hope itself continually being dashed?

“I look forward to seeing you every century, you know that?” Hob added. “No matter what else happens. Bad days, or good ones.”

Dream kept frowning, unsure of the connection.

“It’s important to have those things,” Hob said. He squeezed Eleanor’s still hand. “Even now. Especially now.” 

In Dream’s own… aftermath… he could not imagine finding comfort in anything. What help could some nebulous future date possibly be?

“If that is what helps you,” he said. 

Hob cast him a look like he just knew that Dream didn’t get it, and it rankled. But there was no true criticism in that look. Hob looked at him with an unfathomable fondness, always.

He turned back to Eleanor, just gazing at her face with an expression Dream found difficult to witness in its softness. Were this the waking world, she would have certainly passed by now. But moments could freeze indefinitely in the Dreaming.

“Do you think I’ll forget her?” Hob asked quietly, still looking at his wife. “The details of her face, I mean? Her voice? What she smelled like? My memory’s far from perfect, and there’s a lot of time for it to fade.”

Dream knew without having to actively make the vow to himself that he would be sending frequent dreams Hob’s way to ensure he did not. He should not do so. He should not interfere. 

But.

“There are some things one does not forget,” he said.

Hob swiped at his eyes. He was crying now. “S’pose you’re right.”

If Dream was any sort of friend – and he was not sure that he was, though Hob had declared him so – he would end this dream now and spare Hob any further torment of reliving this memory. 

Instead, he sat beside him, far longer than he intended. Sat in silence, listened to Hob’s breaths, his sniffles as he cried, the subtle movements of continued life. He stayed in this sea of human endings and sickness and grief. With Hob. Something unnameable sitting heavier and heavier within him. And more than once he told himself to rise and to end the dream, and he did not. 

“I’m glad you’re here,” Hob finally said, when much time had passed and they still sat side-by-side. And it was this that finally reminded Dream that he should not be.

“I should leave you,” he said, standing abruptly. “This dream is–”

“Wait.” Hob took his hand. Dream should– Dream should yank it away in offense. He should take his leave of Hob instantly for the familiarity, the daring. 

He did not. He merely stood frozen as Hob pressed his hand between both of his own. His touch was very warm.

“Keep all those things in mind,” Hob said. His eyes still glittered with tears, but his words were steady. “Those infinite things you know about the world. Wherever you’re going.”

“I have much in mind at all times,” Dream told him. Hob had no idea how much. 

Hob smiled at him sadly. “I’m sure. Just think about it, okay? Those doctors in those faraway places. Alright?”

Dream studied him, but gleaned no additional information from it. “Very well,” he said at last.

Hob squeezed his hand once more, then let him go.

A friend might comfort him again, in these circumstances. But Dream was not certain it was necessary. He could see in Hob, even now, the spine of a man who would not break, even when he was so far down.

It was… curious.

Hob bid him farewell, eyes just crinkling at the corners. “Until we meet again, dear stranger.”

Dream stepped back into the comforting arms of the Dreaming proper, discomfited by the moment in a way he could not quite pin down, and by his own willingness to stay and engage in it at all. To involve himself in Hob’s life in a way he had not intended. 

“Until then, Hob Gadling,” he said, letting the scene dissolve around them, “this dream is over.”

[storm-angel989]

How would Valentino and the other fees reacting to his daughter being insecure? Btw I love ur writing!

Hi friend, 

Aw! Thank you so much! So I recently did a thing where Vox and Velvette find out they’re going to have a child. This little fic stars Valentino x Reader’s daughter from OTO and Vox and Velvette’s daughter (her cousin).

You asked for insecure- how much more insecure can you be when you feel like your place in your Aunt and Uncle’s life is being usurped? 

Enjoy!

<3 Mandy 

My Aunt Velvette and Uncle Vox were my second parents growing up. As much as I needed my Mom and Dad, I spent just as much time in their studios, in their bedrooms, being babysat and sneaking ice cream. One of my favorite memories growing up was the weekend that both my parents went out of town and my Aunt and Uncle took me for a weekend of fun- Loo Loo World (which was much better than the knock off Loo Loo Land), ice cream, and giant sleepovers in their bed. Looking back on it, I was sure I missed my parents, but my Aunt and Uncle kept me so busy and so happy, I was too distracted to be bothered too much by their absence. 

Now that I had a baby cousin of my own, I was determined to be the cool, fun person that they were to me growing up. So whenever Aunt Velvette asked me to babysit, I took it as seriously as I could. Usually, it was just for an afternoon. But with my Mom and Dad out of town more and more often and both my Aunt and Uncle working, being a babysitter was less of a request and more of a necessity. This weekend was no different than the last. Mom and Dad were gone, and Aunt Velvette and Uncle Vox had to work, leaving me the babysitter. Again. 

“Sweetheart, if you could both come on down to my studio around 11:00, I have some modeling for her to do,” Aunt Velvette said to me. 

A twinge of unfamiliar envy settled over my stomach and I tried to push it down. There was no reason to be jealous of my cousin. Aunt Velvette and Uncle Vox told me before she was born that I would always be their little girl too, and always be loved just as much. It was probably toddler modeling, a clothing line I was too old for anyway. But as I wiped the crumbs off the three year olds face and took her hand in mine as we stepped onto the elevator, the feeling grew ever so slightly stronger. 

“Mommy!” the little girl shrieked as soon as the elevator door opened. 

She released my hand and took off across the studio. I hurried behind her, but to my dismay, she ran right into her Mom and wrapped her head in her skirt. 

“Sorry, Auntie Vel,” I apologized, “she just wanted you.”

“No matter, I need her anyway,” Velvette replied as she lifted her daughter up and cuddled her to her chest. “Did you have a good morning baby? Did you? Tell Mummy all about it.” 

I watched as she carried her across the studio and after a moment, I followed behind. The longer I stayed, the worse I felt. I loved my little cousin, but part of me wished my own parents were nothing more than an elevator ride away. My mom worked in another building, and more often than not was gone for periods of time. And I wasn’t allowed in my father’s studio under any circumstances. There would be no mid-day mom hugs for me- something my cousin was currently relishing in. I could feel the envy slowly start to melt into something else. Sadness, maybe? 

“Hey, Aunt Vel? I know I said I’d babysit, but if she’s doing a shoot with you do I need to stay? If not, I’d like to go swim some laps at school while the pool is still open,” I said as I watched Velvet lace up the back of my cousin's dress. 

“Hmm? Oh, sure, I don’t need you here. Go do whatever it is you want to do,” she replied, her eyes on her daughter. “Baby, smile, you look beautiful darling, Mummy loves you so much!” 

I turned and walked away silently, my heart heavy in my chest. I had two parents who loved me more than anything, so why did I feel so bad? I trudged up the stairs, tossed my swimming gear in my back and paged a limo to take me to school. Maybe a little swim would actually make me feel better.

Two hours later I had more than lost count of how many laps I had swam. Not that it mattered, my VoxTech watch kept track when I couldn’t. Body shaky, I pulled myself up on the deck and took a drink out of my water bottle as I hit the reset button. My body was definitely tired, but the feeling of sadness hadn’t gone away yet. With a sigh, I lowered myself back into the water and slid my goggles back over my eyes. Maybe another few laps would help. 

I dove under and pushed my body through the fatigue. At the end of the lane, I flipped and made my way back down. To my surprise, a familiar hand waved in the water and I stopped and lifted my goggles up as I caught my breath. 

“Uncle Vox? What are you doing here?” I asked.

“Your Aunt sent me to check on you. She said you sounded a little off this morning, and it looks like you’ve been swimming for awhile- why don’t you get out and take a break for a little bit?” He suggested gently. “Come on, I brought you a snack. And if you’re going to work your body this hard, you need to fuel it.” 

Part of me wanted to scramble up out of the pool and take him up on his offer. But another part of me, a bigger part of me, didn’t want his attention. Or Aunt Vel’s, for that matter. I wanted this icky feeling inside of me to go away. 

“I’m fine, Uncle Vox. Really. You can tell Aunt Velvette that too,” I replied as I swam backwards. “I’ll be home later, I promise.”  I slipped my goggles back down over my eyes. Without another word, I dove back under the water. 

Another hour passed. Then two. Finally, I hit my limit. My body shook and any feeling I had was long gone, replaced by sheer exhaustion. I lifted myself out of the pool, swung my body around to face the lanes, and leaned forward as I caught my breath.  I closed my eyes and to my surprise, I felt a towel over my shoulder. 

“You know, you’re going to have to talk at some point. You can’t exercise your problems away,” Vox’s voice was soft. 

“Nothing’s wrong, Uncle Vox. Nothing happened, I just…I want to do really well this season,” I replied as I wiped my eyes with my towel. To my dismay, the feeling of sadness flooded back and I squeezed my eyes shut.  “I’m fine.”

“That’s not the voice of someone who’s fine,” he said softly. “Come on baby, talk to me.” 

“Nothing happened,” I said sharper than I meant to.

“Didn’t say it did,” he replied calmly. “But something is bothering you. Come on, spit it out.”

I bit the inside of my cheek. “No, cause it won’t come out right. Uncle Vox, I just…I just want to go home, okay? Leave me alone.” 

Instead, he sat down next to me. 

“Then don’t worry about it coming out right. Just let it out, sweetheart. You’ll feel better, I promise,” he told me gently. “Come on, we don’t keep secrets from each other, do we?”

Slowly, I shook my head no. 

“Right, sweetheart. Now isn’t any different. So spill, kiddo,” he put his hand on my shoulder. “Come on, I’m listening.”

“It’s not fair that….I just…I wish my mom and dad paid as much attention to me as you guys do to your daughter,” I blurted out. “It isn’t fair that she gets to go and see her mom and dad whenever she wants and my mom isn’t here half the time and I’m not allowed in my dads studio! It’s not fair and I hate it!” 

That icky feeling washed over me and I could feel the tears start to burn.  I scrambled to my feet and turned to run towards the locker room. 

Vox’s hand caught my arm and he pulled me back. 

“Hey, babygirl, it’s okay,” he said softly. “Hey, I’m here. Reader. Reader, listen to me. I’m here.” He wrapped me in his arms and pushed my head to his chest as he held me. 

“I love her and I love you guys and I’m sorry,” I choked out. “I just, I wish…”

“And we love you,” he said quietly as he held me. “We love you honey.”

“I’m sorry,” I said as I tried to rub my eyes. “Uncle Vox, I love her and,”

“And no one thinks you don’t. It’s a hard adjustment, especially when you see her start doing things that you used to do,” he said gently. “But you don’t need to feel insecure or unsure about your place in our lives, baby. We love you very, very much.” He kissed the top of my head and gave me a gentle squeeze. “But whenever you do feel sad, or insecure or even jealous, you need to come tell us. Not work yourself into exhaustion.” He pulled off his jacket and took the wet towel from around my shoulders before draping the dry coat over me. “Come on sweetheart, let’s get you home.” 

One hour, a bottle of red gatorade and a hot shower later, I felt a little bit better. Dressed in my pajamas, I made my way out to the living room. 

“Reader!” My cousin screamed as soon as she saw me. “Reader! I made you a picture!”

I looked down at the pink and purple scribbles etched on a piece of paper. I swallowed as guilt washed over me. How could I have ever been jealous of her? 

“Thanks,” I muttered. “I’m going to go put it in my room.” 

I turned and made my way back to my bedroom. I closed the door behind me, turned off the lights, set her picture on my desk and climbed under the covers. The icky feeling had returned full force and I wanted nothing more than to be alone. 

Unfortunately, my Aunt Velvette had other plans. The bedroom lights flicked on and I shut my eyes tight. 

“Oh stop, we both know you’re not sleeping,” Velvette’s voice scolded lightly. “Sit up, your Uncle made you soup. He said you needed something in your system and you probably weren't up for much. So come on, sit up now.”

Reluctantly, I sat up and she pressed a warm mug into my hands before perching herself on the edge of the bed.

“Drink up,” she told me. “I want every drop gone.”

Reluctantly, I took a sip. The feeling of warmth exploded on my tongue and before I knew it, it was empty. Velvette took the mug from my hand and set it on the nightstand.

“That’s a good girl, now snuggle under the covers,” she told me. 

“Aunt Vel? Did you…did you talk to Uncle Vox?” I asked as she tucked the covers in around me. 

She kissed my forehead. “I did. Love, it’s okay to feel those feelings. But we need to talk about them, not punish our bodies. I wouldn’t be surprised if you still feel icky, but I promise a good night's sleep and you’ll feel much, much better.” 

“Okay,” I replied softly. “Good night, Aunt Velvette.” 

“Goodnight sweetheart,” she replied. 

I heard her footsteps shuffle across the room and the lights clicked off. I snuggled under my covers and closed my eyes tightly. Maybe Aunt Velvette was right. Maybe I would feel better in the morning.

[celestemagnoliathewriter]

Euphemia and James - Writer's Notes

Earlier this year I wrote a fic titled "Euphemia and James," a story exploring Euphemia Potter and infertility. This is the most deeply personal story I've ever written, and it took a few weeks to write it because of the emotions it stirred up for me, but honestly, being able to write this took years of processing emotions. I decided to share some of my notes on this fic in this post, and it includes this lovely cover image from @livelaughlovetoread. This story is also unique in that it's written in second person POV. It wasn't intended to come out that way, but that's how it came out. See below the image for my notes:

Euphemia and James came from these lines from the extra-canonical writings on Pottermore/whatever they call it these days:

"[Fleamont] sold the company at a vast profit when he retired, but no amount of riches could compensate him or his wife Euphemia for their childlessness. They had quite given up hope of a son or daughter when, to their shock and surprise, Euphemia found that she was pregnant and their beloved boy, James, was born."

If you don't know anything about infertility, I envy you somewhat. Studies have shown that a diagnosis or experience of infertility is similar to receiving a cancer diagnosis or losing a close loved one. It took me a while to realize that a lot of the feelings I had surrounding infertility was actually grief and mourning.

So, I put it all into this fic. There are a few points I want to highlight, if you decide to read the fic or want to see some lines, and my feelings around it all:

"When you meet Fleamont Potter a year into your job at the apothecary, you have no intention of marrying him."

I more or less shamelessly wrote Euphemia and Fleamont's relationship to be similar to mine with Mr C. In fact, Mr C aka @rawr-gorg-smash read this work and we were both sobbing messes by the end of it.

"It will happen when it happens, they say. It will come when you least expect it, they say. That’s what everyone says, and you’re ready to punch the next person in the face who tells you to just “relax.”"

Infertile people will get advice like this frequently. It's meant to be helpful or sometimes soothing, I think, but all too often it's an empty hope. Sometimes, bodies just don't work right, no matter how much relaxing you do.

"It’s not polite to ask. Everyone knows where magical, adopted children come from. They are Muggleborn children who are delicately extracted from their birth homes and replaced with Squibs, or sometimes not replaced at all."

This part is world building by me - the idea of adoption in a magical world seemed odd to me. How would infertile magical couples adopt if they can't use potions or charms? I wouldn't put it past them to just take a Muggleborn child, modify memories, and go. I won't touch on real world adoption-there's a lot to unpack there-but this idea gave me some thoughts on magical adoption.

"It seems selfish to want more, when you already have so much. You question, for the first time in your life, if you really want a child."

I have heard people say things to this effect: it's so selfish to want your 'own' children or to want children and bring them into this world, or some variation of that. If this is what you believe, you and I are going to disagree and I'm not going to try to convince you otherwise. But it's something I and many other infertile people have considered. The thing is, people have had children and will continue to have children throughout terrible periods of time. Does it make sense? Not necessarily. Human actions don't always make sense. To me, though, it speaks of hope. Hope for a better tomorrow, for a world that we will build that will be better for the next generation.

"Now you wish for a living child. There are no longer any expectations on your baby or the kind of person they’ll be. You want a living, breathing baby in your arms you can dote on, educate, feed, and guide through life."

I'll say that one of the few silver linings of infertility for me has been re-grounding my expectations of what kind of child I might have. It once was wishing for a boy or girl, or a kid who likes to read, or a kid who won't be into extreme sports, but now it's just a kid I want. I want to love them because they exist. That's all.

"It’s a shame that you only got nineteen years with your son, the one you wished had been born twenty years prior, so you could treasure twice as long with him."

One of my fears for having children later in life is not having enough time with them. Then again, young parents die. Even children die. If nothing else, whatever time I do have, I hope I use it to love whatever family I have to the fullest.

That's all I have for now. If you made it this far, read the fic, commented on it, left kudos, or a bookmark, thank you very kindly for your time. Of all the things I've written, this felt most like putting a piece of my heart into the world.

[echantedtoon]

Demonstober Day 5 Omukade

Ōmukade are monstrous mukade–centipedes (Scolopendra subspinipes) with dark bodies and bright orange legs and heads.

(If you don't know what Kokushibo looks like as an Omukade centaur like Yokai follow the link.

This is half inspired by a comic on Tumblr. Warnings for mentioned death and killing.)

Tagging: @lavenderdropp @six-eyed-samurai @trancylovecraft @cherrysuzaku

Remember if you want to be added to the spooktober taglist lemme know

Once long ago there was a very powerful shogun, and he married a beautiful woman. Together they were happy with no want for anything in their comfortable lives. Except for one thing.

A child.

Even though they tried for many years, they still went without children. One day the woman  of the couple decided to take a long walk in the woods to try to forget about her troubles when she came across a mysterious healer.

"My lady, you seem quite troubled. Would you like to tell me?", the man offered.

"Why? You wouldn't even be able to help me. It's no  use."

"Try me. I might surprise you."

"My husband is happy with life and we wish for nothing but a child however it seems that the gods do not seem to want to bless us with one."

"Oh. Is that all?", the healer laughed before reaching into the folds of his cloak and pulling out a small box which contained three seeds. *I have the exact solution. Take these flower seeds and plant them in your garden in a place only you'll know. One month from now on the night of the blue moon, three flowers will appear."

"What good will flowers do me?"

"They're blessed by the goddess of fertility," the man explained, "Of the three there will be three flowers. A white lotus, a red spider lily, and a black rose. If you eat the white lily you'll gain a son as pure and kind hearted as the heavens. If you eat the red spider lily you'll receive a son as fast and strong as the fiercest warrior. If you choose the black one you'll receive a son as smart as a hundred scholars! Eating any two of the three will result in twins with all the traits of both flowers!"

The woman was so pleased with her gift. It would be the solution to all her problems and she left with the seeds. However the healer gave her a grisly warning.

"These flowers are enchanted by magic no mortal body can handle so there's a limit to how much you can have without a blessing turning to a curse. Remember. You may only have up to TWO. Eating all three will have deadly consequences that even I don't know what could happen. Heed my warnings, My Lady. Or disaster will befall thee."

The woman promised to remember the warnings given to her and that night planted the seeds in a place only she knew about telling no one. A month later on the blue moon she went back out and found the three flowers the man spoke of. She had already decided to eat the lily and lotus, but at the last moment decided to eat all three. It was a blessing from the goddess of fertility after all. Nothing really bad could come from a blessing. And she wanted her children to have all the traits the flowers promised.

Against the healer's warnings, she swallowed the black rose petals right after the first two flowers.  Sealing her fate by her foolish mistake.

Soon after the woman indeed fell with child. Twins. Both husband and wife were so happy and the entire countryside rejoiced with the news. Nothing truly was wrong and the woman forgot about the consequences of her actions. Until nine months later- 

Her husband was called to battle, while away his wife delivered their children in the middle of the night. However the children born that night were not infants.

But horrible monsters from nightmares.

The woman screamed in fear and horror as the doctors looked on in shocked silence as the cursed infants cried out into the darkness. Both grotesque and disfigured. Monstrous and horrifying to look at. 

One they say was born with horns like an oni and eight limbs like a slightly humified jurogumo. The other one was more horrible. Half it's body writhing and squirming like an upsidedown centipede and so many eyes that they were spinning in different directions at once. They cried but no one dared touch them or show them any empathy. Their own mother scrambled away and shrieked out in fear.

"Take them away!," she cried out, "Take them far away! I don't care what you do with them just take them far away and be rid of them! I'd rather have my husband think we suffered a loss than look upon these ugly things! No one shall tell him of this!"

One of the woman's most trusted servants placed the crying children in a chained basket and took them away that very same night. No one knew what became of them. They were never seen again. The maid never did return either. And the woman never told her husband what had happened. No one else who was there that night never dared repeat what they saw in fear of drawing the cursed creatures back to them. 

However they say that they still roam the lands. And if you are unlucky enough, you shall be the next to run into such a horrible monster.

You didn't have any idea of the last time you weren't told what to do. From the moment you were born your entire life wasn't even yours.

"I no longer have need of your services."

"Is that right?"

It had been months since the time you met him. The man who wanted you but who you rejected because he was a monster. An evil monster who would only devour. And you were already spoken for. It was only the beginning really.

Ever since you were a little girl you've done everything right. As heiress and next in line you were prepared for only one thing and that was to become the perfect young lady. You think they resented you for not being born the strong male heir they wanted to have and instead would have to pick someone else from one of the other noble families to marry you and become their true heir. After all a woman in their eyes could never inherit their estate. Not like a man could. So you had done everything you could do to please them. You studied everything you could do to make yourself come off as a proper well bred lady. Learning to dance in those uncomfortable shoes, laugh at suitors' ridiculous jokes no matter how obnoxious they were, making yourself fond over men that your parents expressed interest in even if you hated their entire being, forcing yourself into those ridiculous dresses and make up because that's what you were expected to look like...

And yet it was NEVER good enough for them. Never good enough for anyone. All of your efforts only seemed to make them more angry of you even though you were doing more than they expected.

In the end they were so fed up with your existence that they made the choice to end your life, other than imprison you or vanish you they sold you off to the wealthiest man they could. Both would've been preferable fates, at least then you would've been free to stop pretending to be something else you weren't. And leaving you to be taken off in the back of a wagon as they carted you off like unwanted cargo. If you only hadn't been born in this family maybe nothing would've happened.

It was still better than marrying the destructive monster that kept plauging you in the night. Each night asking you for one thing-

"Give me your hand as my wife."

The same line over and over. Night after night. He asked you for the one thing that you knew if you accepted, you'd never get out. Better the monsters you knew than the monster you didn't. You once asked him why. Why did he want you when there was surely woman far more wealthy and willing and beautiful? His answer was always the same.

"We were lovers in another life. You died then but you're still mine. It just took me time to find you once more. Give me your hand once again as mine. Join me once more as you belong here in my arms, by my side, and continuing to love me."

You rejected him. It didn't matter what you were then, it's a new life and you had a duty to your parents, and you had a fiance now. 

Perhaps you should've accepted because the destruction that followed you when the monster finally reared itself to show in the moonlight and attacked your wagon transport...it was something out of hell.

But now you sat here in what remained of the crumbling mansion and just stared blankly at him. The monster who had done all the destruction. First ones to go were the ones who transported you away, then your parents, then the man who had paid your parents for you, and then anyone the monster dam well pleased. Over and over day after day until the estate and the province as a whole was swallowed up until nothing else was left but a smoking husk of what once was.

You nodded before the red and amber eyes of hellish stoic fury. The one responsible for it all. "Yes. You've done everything you could do to satisfy your vengeance... So we have no more need to be in servitude to one another. I release you from anymore duties you feel you have to me."

Instead of taking the obvious way out, he hummed tilting his head. "Hmm. That would make sense....but I have no interest in in leaving what's mine." Those deadly eyes narrowed. "Isn't that right, my dear little wife?"

Wife.

You'd forgotten about that.

As an heiress you were expected to be married. More like married off. It was your duty to be married off to someone else who you probably would never love. All under the guise of being for the 'better of your people and kingdom' and then to be nothing but the perfect little supportive wife to him for the rest of your lives and produce him many heirs. It was a duty you being trapped didn't want but made peace with doing a long time ago and would've done it at one point in time. Especially if it meant avoiding his destruction and wrath.

To force yourself to wear whatever gown your mother picked and force yourself to smile and laugh in mock happiness as your father walked you down the aisle after the bridesmaids and flower girl and ring bearer. Force yourself to repeat rehearsed vows your mother wrote for you in advance and say I do to a stranger you'd never love. And thank everyone for coming to 'the happiest day of your life' and force yourself to scarf down too sweet wedding cake and cry over tacky decorations you'd have no say in picking.

But now none of it mattered really. You ended up promising your hand to the demon before you.

"Please! Just don't hurt anyone else!"

"Then give me your hand." The claws stained by the blood of many and if you weren't careful, you couldn't accidentally cut yourself if you grasped his hand. "As my wife for eternity."

A princess and a monster. An ironic comical fate but what choice did you ever have? You accepted your fate and reached out to the monster. He was suddenly upon you, grabbing your hand while the other looked around your waist pulling you against him as he grinned a smile that was both malevolent and full of want for you.

"After all all this destruction wasn't a part of just wrath. It was my wedding gift to you Let this be my marriage vow and promise to you, my dear.~"

[mirkwoodshewolf]

No following; Planet of the Apes fanfic Chap. 1

*Author's note*

Okay so we're gonna try something new here tumblr. Ever since I saw the new Planet of the apes film a month ago I got interested in the fandom once again but never thought anyone wrote fics for the fandom. After reading some on FF.net as well as here, it got me wanting to write a series while I'm on a writer's block for my current series. And thus this series was born.

This entire series will encompass the Andy Serkis trilogy and will be a Caesar fic. But it is STRICTLY PLATONIC so if that's not your cup of tea, no hate and just move on. This is my story and I'll write it the way I want to.

Now to those who wish to give this series a chance as you read, leave a comment down below if you wish to be tagged for updates (rn I'll be binge posting cause I've already got 10 chapters ready to go and be read).

WARNINGS: Fluff, angst, swearing, violence. So this won't be for the light of heart (at least until I get to Dawn and then War).

Taglist:

@queen-paladin

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

@psychosupernatural

@plethora-of-things

@gay-and-ready-to-cry

@waddles03

______________________________________________________

Some say that the bonds between human and animal are a unique thing.  That there’s an unbreakable trust between the two and that they are fated to always be together.  Others say that like soulmates, there’s always an animal for a person who needs them the most.  For me, I would end up having the most unique of all bonds with an animal that is closest to my own species of animal.

This is the story of such a bond, this is the story of Lin and Caesar.

It was nightfall and pouring down rain as I rode home with my best friend Gabriella and her mother.  Gabi and I had known each other since Pre-K after we both had a love for the Disney movie Lilo and Stitch.  From that moment on we’ve been inseparable.  Currently I was getting a ride home with her mom after our strings class.

She and I after school go over to the rec center every Tuesday, Thursday and Friday nights and perform with the San Fransisco Strings and Orchestra for minors.  Gabi plays the cello and I play the violin.  We’re both pretty good if I do say so myself, our teacher tells us that we could eventually go far into the world of music if we set our mind to it.  But I think I’m good cause of my genetics, after all my grandpa was a former music professor and conductor.  But he doesn’t really play anymore, or at least he tries to.

We soon stopped at my house and I said grabbing my things and readied my umbrella.

“Thanks for the ride Mrs. Montez.”

“Anytime Lin sweetie. Watch out crossing the dark, wet sidewalk.”

“I will, see you tomorrow in class Gabi.”

“See yah Lin.” I quickly opened the door and opened up my umbrella before quickly racing across the sidewalk and up the stairs to my front door.  I took my key and unlocked the door but not before waving one final time and soon Mrs. Montez drove off down the road.

I entered inside and shook off my umbrella before hanging it to dry.  I also took off my raincoat and hung it up beside it before walking further into the house proclaiming.

“Hello? Grandpa? Uncle Will?” that’s when I heard the sound of cooing, like a baby cooing but it wasn’t human.  I set my violin case down to the banister by the front door and walked into the study room where I found a large box with holes sitting on the table.  As I got closer to it, I heard my uncle say.

“Oh perfect timing, guess that means I can show you both.” I turned and saw both my uncle and grandpa coming around from the kitchen entry.

“Show me what?” uncle Will walked passed me, ruffled my hair and stood over the box.

“Hey grandpa.”

“Hey sweetheart. Get another gold star from Ms. Honey for good behavior?” I smiled solemnly.  Ms. Honey was my kindergarten teacher, my current teacher is Mr. Simmons. 

My grandpa for the past couple of years has been dealing with Alzheimer’s disease.  Uncle Will told me that it’s a disease that slowly eats away at the brain’s cells, affecting memory and sometimes body function.  You see, my parents died in a plane crash when I was just 3 years old and in their will they had the next guardianship be my grandpa.  But two years ago, that’s when the disease started to take its effect on him.

So my uncle Will had to move in with us to help not only take care of me but of grandpa too.  And when he’s at work and I’m at school, a nice nurse comes in and helps take care of grandpa.

“Grandpa, I’m in the 4th grade. My teacher is Mr. Simmons. You know the nice man you and uncle Will met last month at the school picnic.” He looked dazed for a second but then said.

“Oh right, yeah I knew that.”

“Dad, Lin, come check this out.” Uncle Will said trying to redirect the conversation.  We came over and the second we looked inside, there lay a baby monkey.

“Is that a monkey?” I asked with a head tilt.

“He’s actually a chimpanzee, an ape.” Uncle Will corrected me.  Grandpa was in pure awe as he slowly reached in and touched the baby chimp.

“What is that? Is he injured?” he asked as I took notice of a mark right around the right side of his chest.  It was a prominent balding mark in a unique shape, a long oval shape with an additional stripe at the top.  Kinda reminded me of an incomplete cross or an unfinished F.

“No, I think that’s a birthmark.” Uncle Will said as he crossed into the kitchen and started putting some things into the fridge.  All the while grandpa picked up the baby chimp and lifted him high into the air like he was Simba.  The little guy was just small enough to fit between both of grandpa’s hands.

“Listen Lin,” he told me before he began quoting, “‘But as for Caesar, kneel down, kneel down and wonder.’”

“He’s so cute.” I awed as I reached out and touched his little toes.

“Yeah don’t get too attached, either of you.” Uncle Will told us.

“So why bring him here then if we can’t keep him?” I sassed.

“He’s not a dog or a cat, not even a bunny rabbit. He’s a wild animal. My coworker promised he’d try to find an animal sanctuary for him in a couple of days.” I let out a exasperated groan.

“Animal sanctuaries are still prisons.”

“Don’t get smart young lady.” My uncle playfully reprimanded as he pointed at me.

“It’s not polite to point.” I sassed back.

“Polite? Okay, I’ll show you polite.” My uncle said as he shut the fridge and giving me that narrowed but playful look in his eyes.  I took off running as he raced after me.  I got only up four stairs before I felt two arms wrap around me and he swung me away from the staircase and the next thing I felt was a wet finger in my ear.

“GAHH EWW UNCLE WILL!!!”

“Yeah your mom did this to me all the time when we were kids, now it’s payback.” He laughed.

“I’m innocent in this vile act!” I proclaimed dramatically.

“But you must pay for the sins of thy mother young youth!”

“Will, Maria, you two better stop horsing around in there.” At hearing my mom’s name we both settled down and a somber feeling was in the air.

“He’s been calling me that on and off for the past week.”

“Honestly who can blame him. You look so much like her when she was your age.” He said with a soft smile and he ruffled my hair again.

“Really?”

“Yeah. And when have I ever lied about anything in regards to my big sister?”

“Never.”

“Exactly.” He then playfully nudged my side with his before changing the subject.  “Now please tell me you managed to eat dinner cause I’ve had a long day of work and I don’t feel like cooking anything.”

“Lucky for you, the rec center was hosting a pizza party after the past few months prepping for Districts last week. Maestro Fiyero said we earned a little break after working us so hard.”

“Good. Now why don’t you brush your teeth and get ready for bed.”

“Why does my curfew have to be 9 o’clock? I’m 10 years old, not five.”

“Growing girls needs sleep too you know.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Tell grandpa I said goodnight will yah?”

“Will do kid. Sleep tight, don’t let the bedbugs bite.”

“You too.” I grabbed my violin and raced on upstairs and did my nighttime routine before getting into bed and turning off the light.

As the night progressed, I soon heard the sounds of shrieks coming from the hallway.  I opened my eyes and looked at my clock to see that it was 2:30am.  I got up and let out a cough and muttered to myself.

“Need some juice.” Quietly I walked down the hallway towards the stairs but as I came to the bathroom I could hear the shower running as well as the bathroom sink.  Did grandpa accidentally leave the water running again after taking his shower?  No, Uncle Will would’ve turned it off by now.

I knocked softly on the door and I heard my uncle’s voice say.

“It’s just me dad.”

“I’m not grandpa.” I heard footsteps and the door cracked open and when he saw me, he brought me into the bathroom before closing it.  Immediately I was hit with the heat that had been trapped by the hot water that was coming from both the shower and the sink.

“What are you doing up so late Lin?”

“I heard shrieking and then I got thirsty.”

“Ohh sorry, guess this little guy woke you up too huh?” it was then I took notice of the baby chimp swaddled up in my uncle’s arms.  I looked down at him and he looked up at me, moving his grip from my uncle’s finger to mine as he cooed.

“He looks like he has a cold.”

“You think?”

“Yeah, his nose is kinda runny.”

“Well that’s normal for babies sometimes. He’s barely a day old. You definitely had a runny nose when you were born.”

“No I didn’t!”

“Oh yeah you were quite the little snot monster. The original boogeyman, or boogeygirl.” He said taking his free hand that was on top of the baby chimp and playfully gripped my nose.

“Uncle Will!” I whined softly which made him laugh.  Our moment was stopped as the baby chimp let out a few more coos before snuggling up to uncle Will, all the while the grip on my finger got a bit tighter.  I smiled down at him and said as I stroked my thumb over his tiny fingers.  “Are you sure we can’t keep him?”

“I’ll—think about it. Holding him like this….makes me think back to the day you were born. Boy your mom wouldn’t let me near you at first. Feared I was gonna drop you, she always had that fierce mama bear instinct right from the get-go. Even when we were growing up and as she tormented me at times. When I needed it, she was there with her hot-headed attitude.”

“I miss her uncle Will.”

“Me too kid. Me too.” I leaned up against him and he rested his head on top of mine giving it a soft kiss.  “Go on back to bed, I’ll stay up with him.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. I’m used to all-nighters, one day you might get there when you’re composing your first symphony. But for now, head back to bed.”

“Can I still get my juice first? I’m thirsty.”

“Just this once. Just be quiet when passing Charles’ room.” I nodded before leaning down and gave the baby chimp a kiss to which he let out a cute yawn and quiet hoot.

“Goodnight little chimp. Night uncle Will.” I gave him a peck on the cheek and he said goodnight to me as I quietly left the bathroom shutting the door immediately as I got out.  I went downstairs, got my drink and went back to bed.

The next morning I was finishing my breakfast and packing my school books into my backpack as uncle Will was coming down with the baby chimp and set him up in my old high-stool chair that grandpa had kept.

“Where’s my car keys?” grandpa asked as he was patting through his robe and pj pockets.  “My car keys where’d you put them? I need to get Lin to school!” he said urgently.

“Dad.” Uncle Will calmly spoke to him. “You-you don’t drive anymore. And Lin takes the bus.” Grandpa looked at him with a blank stare before turning away and telling him.

“I know that.” It really does make me sad to see grandpa this way.  He always looks so dazed and lost, like he’s here with us but at the same time he’s not.  Sometimes he’ll just sit there and stare off into space, frozen in his spot and not say anything for a really long time.

“Here, why don’t you feed him? Can you do that?” uncle Will suggested holding up a baby bottle filled with milk.

“Of course I can.” Said grandpa coming over.  As uncle Will went to get his coffee (blech!) grandpa came over and grabbed the bottle which made the baby chimp go crazy with hunger as he reached out for it.  As soon as it was in reach, he grabbed the bottle from grandpa’s hand and immediately began drinking it as fast as he could.

I dropped my fork and stared at him in awe.  I was told that babies always needed help being fed for at least several months and yet after just being born yesterday, he was feeding himself.

“Will, look at this.” Grandpa said as uncle Will came back into the kitchen and saw what we saw.  “How old is he? Like a day old, two days old?” Uncle Will sat down as he examined the baby chimp confused.

“Yeah.” Uncle Will said lowly as he kept his eyes on the baby chimp.

“Oh he’s a smart one isn’t he?” said grandpa as he came around and sat on the other side of the baby and gently placed his hand on top of his head.  “What are you gonna name him?”

“I—I don’t know.” Uncle Will said unsure.  That’s when I saw it.  Now I’m no monkey or ape expert but from pictures I’ve seen in books they normally have dark eyes, mostly brown but this little guy.  His eyes were green.

A green eyed baby chimpanzee.  One look into his eyes and I knew that he was something very special.

[star-girl69]

Keep Me Ablaze

Jake Sully x Neytiri x Fem!Reader

—-

complete!! book two: here!

a/n: reader is grace’s niece, and is described as having mid-length hair. reader is a human during some portions, eye color is not described, hair color, weight, etc., and i try my best to make everything as ambiguous as possible.

i apologize in advance if something i write isn’t inclusive. we are all humans and we all make mistakes! please feel free to tell me if you have any suggestions as to how i can cater this fic to the most people possible.

also available on ao3!

my ao3: star_girl69

—-

The only mother you have ever known is the forest. Yes, you have Grace, other women at the base. But they are not quite your mother. It’s hard for your Aunt to talk about her- but how can you blame her? Alone and drifting through the world, a fire burning inside of you that threatens to snuff out, Grace teaches you alongside the Omaticaya at her school. They call her sa’nok, and sometimes you wish you could call her that too. But you feel like you would be betraying your mother. Neytiri is your spark, even while you’re young, shy when Grace pushes you to play with her and even shyer when the two of you form a tentative friendship. But it grows, and she grows into the woman you know now.

Life without her is miserable, but at least you have something new to explore in the form of your Avatar. You run through the forests and help Grace, and soon you are 20 years old and looking out onto your life like it is a prison. You could leave. Go to Earth. But you couldn’t leave the forest, your Aunt, the memories of your mother and father.

Then, Jake Sully comes, a warrior with no legs, who holds the same spark as Neytiri does. But with the weight of impending war looming on each of you, death everywhere, you don’t know if they can keep you ablaze.

—-

Keep Me Ablaze

Chapter One - Josephine

Chapter Two - Savior

Chapter Three - New Blood

Chapter Four - Face It

Chapter Five - Moment

Chapter Six - Just For You

Chapter Seven - Dreams

Chapter Eight - So Blue

Chapter Nine - Burn

Chapter Ten - Clean Kill

Chapter Eleven - You and Yours

Chapter Twelve - Look and Touch

Chapter Thirteen - Change

Chapter Fourteen - We Burn Bad

Chapter Fifteen - Ache of You

Chapter Sixteen - Mothers & Fathers

Chapter Seventeen - Betrayal

Chapter Eighteen - I Know Loss

Chapter Nineteen - After

Chapter Twenty - To Die For

Chapter Twenty One - Love

Chapter Twenty Two - Keep Me Ablaze

Chapter Twenty Three - Cursed

Chapter Twenty Four - Watercolor Eyes

Chapter Twenty Five - Demons

Chapter Twenty Six - Born to Die

—-

headcannons for this series:

the early years (grace edition!)

the early years (neytiri edition!)

[oneofstarkskids]

this has to be perfect!

fluffy birthday fic

*not my gif*

bucky didn't like to celebrate his birthday. all those years in and out of cryo, he just felt like it didn't mean much anymore. besides, he didn't need some crazy celebration. all he wanted was you.

but that didn't stop you from planning a surprise party. sam was in on it too of course. "do i get to do the message on the cake?" he asked a little too enthusiastically.

"absolutely not," you gave him a stern look. "but it'd be a big help if you put the helium in those balloons." you waved towards the big helium tank. sam smirked and got to work immediately.

it was a full proof plan. all you had to do was make sure bucky didn't suspect a thing.

bucky had received a text the night before as the two of you were lying on the couch. "steve wants to go for a run and get a coffee in the morning." he said.

you nodded and tried to hide your smile, "really? that's great! you should go!"

yup. totally not suspicious.

you kissed him before he left the next morning and made sure to wish him a happy birthday. you ignored the eye roll he gave you.

and you were running out of time. "okay people," you clapped your hands. "sam, don't forget the ribbons on the ends of those balloons."

steve had kept him busy for a couple of hours, but he'd already sent you a couple texts about bucky wanting to get back. he was officially running out of excuses.

sam only nodded in response which made you arch a brow, but your attention was quickly diverted when scott knocked over the pile of presents. "sorry!" you ran over to help him pick them up.

"i was just making the card and i didn't know if i should write 'happy birthday, buddy' or just 'happy birthday dude', cause you know...we don't know each other that well and i don't want him to feel awkward-" he began to ramble but was quickly interrupted by nat who tapped you on the shoulder.

you turned to her and she shrugged, "record players not working." your face dropped, "no no no no! please," you ran over to it and tried to clean it, turn it off and back on, whatever you could do. "this has to be perfect!" you begged the device.

"is this a bad time?" a sokovian accent asked softly. you looked over at wanda, who was wearing an apron that read 'my kitchen my rules', with a dispirited expression.

you could tell she had bad news so you waited to hear it. she grimaced, "the cake batter is taking a little longer to brown than expected."

you nodded and pursed your lips.

"that's fine! i'm sure steve can keep him busy for a little longer" you tried to keep it together, but then you heard keys turning in the door.

SHIT!

you waved everyone back to their stations and rushed to the door. you pushed your way through it, causing bucky and steve to take a step back. "bucky!" you said excitedly, but he could tell you were on edge.

you wrapped your arms around his neck and at first it was to keep him distracted out there, but suddenly you just melted. it turned out a hug was exactly what you needed.

you were finally able to take a deep breath. you pulled away from him and grabbed his hand with a smile. "come with me," you said before leading him into the apartment.

"surprise!" everyone shouted. sam didn't notice the two of you walking in, so he turned around late and yelled out a very high pitched, "surprise!"

you couldn't help but laugh.

bucky was smiling too as he looked around the room, but he turned to you with confusion etched across his features. "what's all this about?"

"it's your birthday!" you said as if it was obvious.

"i know, i just mean...you didn't have to go through the trouble. it's just a birthday," he shook his head.

your heart ached for the man who'd been through lifetimes of pain, "james. listen to me. i love you and celebrating the day that you were born is important to me, because i couldn't imagine life without you."

his grinned and looked into your eyes sincerely, "i love you too, doll."

and for a moment it was as if you were the only ones in that apartment, face to face and full of joy.

until scott walked over, "sorry if i'm ruining a moment or something. just wanted to give you this," he winked. he handed bucky a card with a hand drawn portrait of himself and bucky side hugging.

at the top it read, "happy birthday bestie!"

[thoughtfullyrainynightmare]

Hiii can I ask for some fluffy (headcannons or fic your wish) with fuegoleon and nozel comforting an s/o who feels insecure about her body after giving birth?

Oh this is the kind of fluff I needed today, I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I liked writing it! ^^

Pairing: Fuegoleon x f!reader, Nozel x f!reader Genre: hurt-comfort/fluff (?) Fanfic type: Headcanons Total length: ~1.4k Warnings: theme of self-esteem and body image issues, mentions of pregnancy and giving birth, the guys comfort the reader

Fuegoleon

All throughout your pregnancy, your body had been changing, and it was self-evident to him. And never did the changes mean that he would have grown to think that you were any less beautiful or desirable to him.

You were, always were, his beautiful wife.

And… you had given the gift of life to your kids.

Honestly, he was amazed about how… how could you do it. Of course because you’re strong, there was no doubt about that but it was just… so amazing that he couldn’t believe it.

He had no words, for how beautiful it was; you giving birth to your child.

The next few weeks went in a haze, because the baby required all your attention. And your stomach would grow smaller little by little, closer to the size that it was originally.

But… as the weeks went by, it became evident that some of the changes in your body were here to stay. Stretchmarks, saggy boobs… The mum tum.

Of course you weren’t supposed to ‘just look sexy for your husband’, or feel ashamed that you weren’t, in your own opinion, looking sexy for him. But it was a confidence thing. If you didn’t think that you looked good, or desirable, why would he think that you looked like either of those things.

He noticed that something was wrong. Of course he did. Because you spent a while longer next to the mirror regularly while getting dressed, but your weren’t smiling. It wasn’t the same kind of look you had in your eyes as before. But the moment you heard the baby cry you’d awake from the daze as if nothing had happened.

So, when the moment was good, he sat down and asked you about it. He asked you about the look, the way you looked at yourself, the way you held your head a little less high than before.

And you told him. Of course you told him. After all, he was your husband, your rock, and he had seen it. There was no point in lying and telling him that you were alright.

He held his arm around your shoulder and let you speak, let out all the emotions that you had born inside of you as his thumb rubbed up and down against your skin.

When the tears started rolling down, he pulled you into his embrace with both arms and pressed your head against his chest.

“You are beautiful”, was the first thing he said to you to assure your feelings of insecurity. “And I love you, my beloved.” He continued, feeling like it was the next thing he needed to tell you. “We knew that changes would happen in your body, which are only natural. And I promise to be there for you and assure you about how lovely and gorgeous you are with those changes.”

You loved the fact that he said ‘we’. Because you were in it together. But never did he forget to say that he’d be there to love and support you no matter what.

You supposed it was along the ‘grow old together’, which would also include changes in the both of you.

Throughout the moment he continued to hold you; embrace you. He placed a kiss onto your temple and told you that it’d be alright.

He really did love you. And that was what you wished for, to be cherished, desirable on all aspects, but mostly as who you really were.

And he did.

Nozel

Nozel had know that there would be different changed into your body as your pregnancy would progress. Afterall, he still remembered to an extent how it was with his mom when she was expecting Noelle.

But still there was something quite unexpected to how much your body changed. It wasn’t a bad change by any means, and for the most part, he both did and didn’t notice them. Of course he noticed your belly growing and your body becoming more plump so that it could nurture the baby growing inside of you, but he was too immersed in the actual idea of you two having a child soon.

When you went into labour, and were in the middle of the delivery, all he could think about was you being alright and well after the delivery. It worried him to the point of nausea, because he didn’t want to lose either of you.

 And… when the baby was born, it was one of the happiest days in his life. The happiest day in his life. He considered having been more happy the day he married you, because it made this day possible too, but he wasn’t sure.

His mind was everywhere else except on the changes in your body. Not even when your stomach started getting smaller and your body started settling down to what it’d be for the next period of your life, granted that breastfeeding would also have an impact. He didn’t bare mind to the changes.

But you did… Especially now that you were starting to get well enough to appear in public. The events that you were expected to attend because people wanted to see the royal baby.

The clothes you owned didn’t seem to fit anymore. Not as nicely at least. And it made you painfully aware again about the doubts you held in your mind for him, for Nozel, finding you attractive still.

Of course it was unreasonable to think that you’d have the same body as you did back in the day, but … you wanted to look nice. And not just look nice for your husband. The point was to feel confident and attractive for yourself. But also it’d be nice if your husband found you attractive too…

When the day came that you were supposed to attend an event as a new mother, you spent hours upon hours in front of the mirror trying on different outfits, but nothing did the part anymore. Nothing suited you anymore and all the self-doubt and frustration begun boiling up inside of you up to the point where you had just tossed all of the garments onto the floor and sat onto the bed, burying your face into your hands while fighting back tears.

And… when Nozel walked into the room, in the middle of the sea of fabric, his first thought was if he had failed to perform his part. If he had failed to do something, say something… be something…

But still, he sat onto the bed, next to you, and asked what was wrong. The question was clumsy and stiff, but it was genuine.

However, when you started talking your body image and how everything, even in your own body, seemed to change so quickly and how nothing seemed to fit you anymore and… quite frankly, how you didn’t feel attractive anymore, or that he’d desire you anymore.

Which… seemed … unbelievable to him. Surely there had been changes happening in your body, but he, if anyone, knew that a woman’s life doesn’t end when she has kids. Acier was more than fit for battle after 3 children, and would have been just as fit after 4 if not… the curse.

The issue of self-image was different from being battle ready though… but it… But to him, it was all tied to you not being any… ‘worse’ than before having children. You were just as wonderful and attractive to him.

“You’re not…” he begun but swallowed the words. “I don’t… know how you do it… Our child is… healthy and you brought them to us…and… You think you’re not… attractive, anymore?” You could hear the disbelief in his tone, in his very being.

You could only nod as a reply, and he pulled you closer. Wrapped his arms around you and swallowed again.

“I’m… sorry for… not making sure that you feel just as beautiful as you are,” he whispered against your ear. Because that was how he felt. “You are as beautiful as the day we married,” he continued. “And you will be, always.”

And the way he held you, full of adoration and affection, up until the baby started fussing.

Because he was a good father, and spouse, who wanted nothing but the best for his lovely, beautiful family.