#i remember forever ago an anon said i could still make this the fic the one w the highest wordcount in the sampard tag

[shoezuki]

Doctor, the problem's in my chest

Chapter 12

It’s cold outside. It’s always cold outside, a sort of persistent chill on the wind that the Walls and the heaters around Belobog can’t fully extinguish, Gepard is glad for it, though. It’s keeping him awake.

Gepard didn’t sleep much the night before. Serval stayed in his apartment for quite a while, the three of them eating together and talking casually and aimlessly. It was nice, something Gepard had missed more than he had realized. It made him feel guilty for the unending agitation and unease he feels under his skin still. It’s more manageable, watching Lynx and Serval argue over cooking and being shoved back into his chair by the both of them as soon as he tries to help. His apartment didn’t feel so small and suffocating when Lynx was parading her favourite flowers around, scolding Gepard for not taking care of them and ‘abandoning’ them in the infirmary. It was… nice, to have them around, his sisters casual and calming and not suffocating with concern or well wishes beyond the usual ways Lynx huffs at him or Serval flicks his ear when he says something that makes her wrinkle her nose. 

They had left eventually, though, Serval with a yawn and a promise to not stay up late into the morning and Lynx claiming the spare room above Serval’s shop. Gepard had almost asked Lynx to stay but bit his tongue; he's an adult, he should be able to sleep peacefully in his own quiet home, alone. So he bit his tongue, bid them both goodbye, wrinkled his nose at Serval’s coddling and pinches at his cheeks, ducked his head as Lynx asserted that she will visit Sampo whether with Gepard or not. Then he’d closed the door, sucked in a deep breath, retreated to his room and buried himself within Sampo’s blanket. 

Read the full thing on ao3!!!

[heavyhitterheaux]

Favorite Son-in-Law

First Lady of Private Garden Fic

Gif by @jackharlowgifs 💕

AN: First Lady's family absolutely adores her husband

Synopsis: First Lady's parents explain why Jack is their favorite son-in-law 🤭

Pairing: Husband!Jack Harlow x Wife!Reader

Requested by: a beautiful anon 💕

First Lady of Private Garden Masterlist Part 1

First Lady of Private Garden Masterlist Part 2

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

“Baby! You almost ready?” You heard Jack ask you from the bedroom as you were in the bathroom trying to finish curling your hair.

“Give me five more minutes!” 

Just then Jack came into the bathroom behind you and wrapped his arms around you and then leaned down to kiss you cheek which you gladly accepted.

“I’m not rushing you mamas, but you told me to give you five minutes twenty minutes ago. I could have been eating you out for all that.”

“Jackman! Behave!”

“I am behaving! We were supposed to meet up with everyone at 2 and it is now 3:15.”

“Pookie.” You said as you turned around to look at him since you had finally finished putting the last curl in your hair.

“Yes, princess?”

“How long have we been together?” You asked while placing your arms around his neck.

“Umm ten years.”

“And you know your wife is black, correct?”

“What? Where are you going with this?”

“Since when has my family EVER started anything on time? Trust and believe that my parents will be pulling up at the same time we do.”

“I-.....”

All you did was look at him and smirk as he was trying to come up with an answer for when your family had been on time for a function.

“Exactly. Now give me kisses so we can go.”

“Now, don’t start anything you can’t finish.”

“We’ll finish when we come back! Kisses please!”

Jack leaned down to place several kisses all over your face and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Now it’s time to go see my favorite in-laws.”

“Jack, baby, they’re your only in-laws.”

“They’re still my favorite.” Jack answered you while shrugging before leading you both out of the bathroom.

The two of you were now walking hand-in-hand in Cherokee Park to the spot where your parents told you everyone would be. You quickly spotted them along with your grandparents, Dani, Drama, all of Private Garden since your parents considered them their sons, and a lot of your aunts, uncles, and cousins.

“It’s about time you two got here!” 2fo said while walking up to the two of you while eating with his plate in his hand.

“You know what they were probably doing! We actually started at 2:45 this time!”

“Shut up Urban! Or should I say Big Whore!” You exclaimed and he made a face at you.

“Hey! Don’t act up in front of company!” He responded and all you and Jack did was shake your heads.

“The princess took an hour curling her hair.” Jack muttered and you pinched his side. 

“Jackman, don’t start.”

“It looks pretty on you though.” 

“Aww, why thank you, baby.” You said while reaching up to kiss him. 

“See? That’s the type of shit that made yall late in the first place.”

“AHHH! Is that my baby and my favorite son-in-law?” Your dad exclaimed while making his way over to the both of you. He quickly embraced you and then hugged Jack.

“HE’S YOUR ONLY SON-IN-LAW DAVID!” Your mother Ivy said and you couldn’t help but to laugh.

“Is that? Is that what I think it is?” He asked and motioned to the bottle of Hennessey in Jack’s hand.

“Of course, I know it’s your favorite.” He said while handing it over to him.

“Baby girl, keep him around FOREVER. Now I have to make sure your Aunt Cassie don’t see this. I know you two remember what happened last time.” He responded while eyeing the two of you. 

“Daddy, I am so done with you.” You said as you simply shook your head and all Jack was doing was laughing next to you.

“Y/N! Why you always keeping Jack from us?!” Your Aunt Keisha asked as she quickly walked up to hug you both.

“Because yall are embarrassing and I can only take yall in doses. 2FO! THAT BETTER NOT BE THE CHEESECAKE MY MOM MADE FOR ME!” 

“I SAW IT FIRST!”

“Not the white boy bringing the Hennessey to the black function.” Shloob said and immediately busted out laughing.

“I thought it was understood that he was just light skinned! He’s been around us since he was fourteen!”

“Wait, Jack’s white?” You heard your grandmother ask and you looked at her in disbelief.

“What the? Yes nana! My husband is white!” You said while laughing and shaking your head.

“Oh, I thought he was a rapper?”

“Jesus, have mercy. He is nana!”

“You know I heard that First Class song on the radio the other day. Maybe Jack can do a collaboration with him one day.”

“NANA, THAT IS JACK! THAT’S HIS SONG!”

“SINCE WHEN?!”

“I-... baby come on so we can get food because I CANNOT with them.” You said while grabbing his hand again and leading him towards the food.

The both of you made your way over to where your Uncle Julius was on the grill while you saw your Uncle Jason, the youngest of the triplets that your grandmother had making his way towards you.

“Oh shit.” Jack muttered because he immediately knew what was about to happen.

“Ignore him and maybe he’ll go away.”

“JACK! BABY GIRL! LONG TIME NO SEE.”

“Mm hmm.” Both of you said as your Uncle Julius simply handed the both of you plates and went back to flipping burgers.

“Aye! Let me hold something! I got yall the next time I see you! Oh wait, actually Jack lemme get them New Balances off your feet. Those the new 550’s ain’t they?”

“JASON! Get away from my babies and leave them alone! You always acting like a damn fool!” Your mom exclaimed while reprimanding her younger brother while you and Jack stifled a laugh.

“I just need twenty dollars! Oh better yet, Jack can I give you my mixtape? Been working on a few things.”

“Then get a job! And no he doesn’t want to hear your dried up crusty ass bars! You’re over 60! It’s time for jazz music now. The rap career as a goal ship has SAILED!”

“IVY, you always been a damn hater!”

The two of you piled your plates high before making your way over to your best friends and sitting down with them while your parents, sister, and Dani were at the opposite end. 

Urban was currently talking to your younger cousin Demi while 2fo had gotten his fourth plate, Quiiso was talking to your cousin Cierra and you’ve been trying to hook them up for the longest, and Shloob and Ace went to go play basketball with your old ass uncles and put money up to see who would win.

“Now, Demi, go to your grandma Kat and ask her for an eight and give her this entire thing. Don’t short change her now. I’ll give you ten dollars when you come back.”

“Okay, be right back.”

“URBAN!” You exclaimed while shaking your head in disbelief.

“What?!?! Your grandma got some of the best weed I ever smoked in Kentucky! I’m not messing up this business deal.”

“I… I gotta agree baby.” Jack said as he took your soda can from you and opened it and slid it back since he knew you would have trouble doing it with your long nails.

“Yall are a hot ass mess and fit right in with my family.”

“OH LOOK! IT’S MY FAVORITE WHITE BOYS, JACK AND URBAN!” Your Aunt Marisa said while coming over to the table and all you could do was laugh. 

At the other end of the table, your mom was watching the two of you with nothing but admiration in her eyes as the two of you were feeding each other and Urban was making gagging gestures before you threw a spare fork at him which hit him on the forehead. 

“At least one of our kids had a successful marriage.” Your mother said as she eyed Dani and Drama.

“Mom, seriously?” Dani asked as she took another bite of her food.

“Yeah seriously and look how well she turned out. All thanks to me and your dad. Because if it was left up to you, she’d probably be doped up somewhere.”

“Now Ivy…” Your dad David started to say but all she did was shrug.

“Don’t Ivy me. She’s successful because of what we instilled in her and I damn sure will never let you two take credit for it. We raised her, not you.”

“I-...” Drama started to say but was immediately cut off by Ivy.

“Now don’t either of you start with me. I said what I said and you two need to come clean to her because I can already sense that this is about to turn into a shit show. Been telling you two that for years and now the girl is 24.”

“We will when the time is right.” Drama said while looking at them.

“There isn’t ever a right time but she needs to hear the truth and hear it from the two of you. And you know what this means right?”

“What? What does it mean?” Dani curiously asked while glancing at you and seeing you laughing at something Jack whispered in your ear.

“I highly doubt that she’ll ever forgive you two for this.”

Marisa was telling you her latest products that she was selling and Jack was listening to her intently while you were intrigued.

She’s been selling sex toys and anything that has to do with sex for as long as you could remember. 

“So, it’s like the rose toy? Jack bought me that already.” You asked her and she shook her head no.

“No, it’s even better. Rose toy takes about what? Three to five minutes for you to hit your peak? I give this one two minutes and don’t let Jack be in you too, bitch you will see HEAVEN, okay?!”

“Now Aunt Marisa…” You said while trying not to laugh but Jack was all for it.

“How much?!” He eagerly asked and you looked at him like he was crazy.

“You’re my favorite nephew and niece so it’s on the house, just leave a good review for me. You two won’t be leaving the bed the entire night.”

“They don’t do that anyway.” Urban added as Demi came back up to him with his weed in her hand.

“Demi! My girl! Okay, here you go.” He said while handing her a ten dollar bill.

“Grandma Kat said the price went up but since you’re one of her favorite customers, she’ll keep the price the same.”

“Damn bestie, I love your family.”

“I do too even if they are a bit crazy.” You confessed. 

The day was winding down and the sun was starting to set since it was now around eight and your father had gathered everyone around as he was sipping from his Hennesy bottle.

“Now Jack is my favorite son-in-law ever and baby girl, you aren’t allowed to marry anyone else, okay? We just had to make sure that was clear.” Your dad said while throwing his arm around Jack and you knew he was tipsy.

“I just wanted you two to know how proud I am of the both of you and that I admire the way he takes care of you and you do the same exact thing for him. I never worried about you growing up, but that Danielle? Whew, story for another day. Anyway, Jack you better not hurt my youngest and baby girl you better not hurt Jack, understood? Because you damn sure not moving back in with me. Whatever goes down between the two of you, you better fix it! No take backs Jack! You snuck and married her so now you’re stuck with her!”

“What the? DADDY!”

“And since you two finally got caught! Been married since you were nineteen!” Your mom exclaimed while eyeing the two of you.

“But that was URBAN! His fault!”

“I didn’t say I do like the two of you!” Urban said while sipping on his beer. 

“Might as well had, since you are definitely a part of that relationship!”

“But on a serious note, we love the both of you so much and can’t wait to see the success that will come. The way you two love each other is evident in everything that you do and I know this marriage is meant to be.” Your mom said and the both of you went over to hug her.

“Appreciate you saying that, mom.” Jack said and all she did was nod and you knew for a fact that she was about to cry.

“Now… I want my grandbabies so get a move on!”

“I’m trying, but I swear your daughter is dodging me!”

“I am NOT!”

“Then let me get you pregnant!”

“Give me another year!”

“See what I mean?!” Jack said as he threw his hands up in disbelief and all you did was laugh.

Your Grandma Kat then came next to Urban and motioned for him to open his hand.

“Got another eight for you and don’t you go telling all my grandkids. I don’t like them the way I like you, Jack and baby girl. Tell them I’m out if they ask you.”

“If I was older we would have definitely been married. You stay looking out” Urban said while quickly slipping it in his pocket.

“If I was thirty years younger, I might just take you up on that. Just don’t let my husband hear you say that.”

“GRANDMA KAT! STOP TRYING TO SHOOT YOUR SHOT AT URBAN!” You yelled while looking over at them in disbelief.

“HE DID IT FIRST!” 

“I do like cougars though. No shame in it.” Urban said while shrugging.

“Like I said before, all of you fit right in with my crazy ass family.”

Taglist:

@harlowsbby

@babyharleezy

@hoodharlow

@stefansalvatoresgf

@jackiehollanderr

@primadxna-girl

@dessmxsworld

@cockslutslurper3000

@raelorns21

@variety-fangirl

@gbaabyyyy

@kamorsstuff

@harlowthot

@sinsandsuccubus

@curlyhairclub

@bootlegroach

@haylexo10

@thinkingaboutjharlow

@fluidsentiment

@charli123456789

@moody4world

@yourstrulymayah

@yana4life

@beanbagbitch

@alinaharlow

@carma-fanficaddict

@minaxcarter

@arination99

@xjup1t3r

@venusvinc

@jacksmoviestar

@jackharloww

@midnight-star47

@minkookie95

@inluvwithladybug

@exoticr0ses

@jharlowsangels

@jackierose902109

@jackmansbabymama

@cmalass

@megawhoree

@softtcurse

@sia2raw

@miniaturehideoutmentality

@hoya122

@nattinatalia

@jackslover12

@skyesthebomb

@jackharlows-world

@louisianalady

@fdl305

@automaticpeachsong

@harlowcomehome

@gassyandsassy1

@babygirlwilly

@amethyst09

@harrycanyonmoonn

@toocriticalharlow

@tattered-tales

@sisiking99

@dessxoxsworld

@gillybear17

@jacksdaycare

@iheartharlow

@disaster-rose

@babyvinnie

@evansxchalamet

@chtkmyharlow​

@itsyagirljaz

@neon-lights-and-glitter

@awhore4moree

@a-moment-captured

@jackmans-poison

[love-minor-poltergeist]

Are you still taking requests? If so, could I please request the Devil having a sorta flirtatious love hate relationship with fiddler. If you ever heard the Song, The Devil went down to Georgia, you’ll get it but the gist is, the Devil challenges the person to a fiddle competition and lost. But the fiddler offers for him to come on back and try again if he likes, quite rightfully proud of their musical skills even refusing a golden fiddle the Devil offered as a reward… supposedly

A/N: Oh anon your mind!

It took me a while to figure out how to tackle this prompt, and I had opted to make a short fic about it! I'm a little out of practice when it comes to writing something that isn't a set of bulletpoint hcs, so please don't be afraid to let me know what you think!

The Devil Went Down to Georgia Word Count: 2.3k

┍━━━━━♥♠♣♦━━━━━┑

Your daddy had always been a religious man, as were most of the folks in your small town. 

Many hot summer Sundays were spent getting up early to get ready for church. The priest, hair thinning and skin glistening with sweat, shouting his sermon; eyes ablaze like the fire and brimstone he preached. All you could remember from his impassioned screaming was just how crazed he looked– the hellish landscape he painted forever burned into your mind. 

While Pa was nothing like that dreadful priest, he took those words to heart. Always warning to be wary of temptation. For temptation was the Devil’s way of leading you astray. You’ve never truly put your mind into the whole Heaven and Hell business— heck, you stopped coming to church long before your twentieth birthday– but you knew that Pa would never do you wrong. 

“The Devil is a man you don’t wanna mess with,” Pa said one day.

You agreed to help him chop some wood after Sunday mass; you don’t remember exactly what led the two of you down this conversation, but you remember feeling Pa’s watchful gaze focused on you as you dozed off during another sermon. 

“He’ll come to ya in a chariot of fire, taller than any building you’ve seen, and try to take ya away. Using pretty words and empty promises, and by the time ya see through that honeyed haze, yir as good as dead.” 

He finished point with one final swing of his ax, the loud crack of splintering wood causing you to flinch. 

Pa’s face softened, mumbling a small “sorry punkin” as he softly clapped a calloused hand on your shoulder. 

The two of you stood over the work you’ve done. Silently basking in the afterglow of progress.

After a few moments, Pa spoke once more. 

“I’m serious, Punkin,” you felt his hand tighten on your shoulder. “Promise me that if you ever meet the Devil, you do the right thing.” 

And so, you promised your pa. Swore on his and Mama’s graves that you’d turn tail and run if you ever crossed paths with the prince of darkness. 

Of course, a part of you thought Pa was paranoid. That he was letting his fear of god cloud his reason. Cause there ain’t no way that the big bad Devil would ever wander down into the middle of nowhere, Georgia. A part of you wasn’t even sure if he existed. 

But you wouldn’t dare say this out loud. Instead, you meekly smiled and promised your pa. Anything to ease his worries. 

And you kept that promise. Life continued. You fell into a comfortable, if not a little monotonous routine. Get up, help with the farm, play your fiddle for the cattle— rinse and repeat. 

That is until one day, during a dry summer not even a week ago, you met the Devil. 

It happened so quickly. Unexpectedly. One minute, you reclined against a stump, having just finished your chores for the day, and decided to relax while playing your fiddle. The very next minute, you had felt the ground shake.

He emerged from the earth. 

The ground was torn asunder as the prongs of a golden trident scorched the terrain an ashen black; a great gaping maw yawned open. Pillars of flame shot forth into the sky, the cries of birds resounding in your skull as the smell of smoke and tobacco filled your nose. You coughed, head swimming as you reached to cover your nose, nearly dropping your violin to the ground as you braced yourself against the roaring flames. 

Through burning pillars, a clawed hand emerged. With a snap of their fingers, the portal instantly closed, the fiery pillars forced down into their earthly furnace; leaving behind a blackened scar against the grass, and a looming figure. 

And as you slowly lower your arm, fingers tightening their grasp on your bow and fiddle– clutching both to your chest, desperate to get an extra layer of protection against the stranger– a small, foolhardy part of your panic-addled brain couldn’t help but notice one thing:

The Devil was a lot shorter than you’d thought he’d be. 

༻︶𓏶︶༺

You didn’t even know what spurred you to accept the demon’s challenge– beat him against a fiddle-playing competition, and you’ll win a golden fiddle of your own. And if you lose, your soul is forfeit. 

Truth be told, it was quite a crap deal. The prize he offered you was a bit… gaudy. Heck, who were you kidding? The thing was tacky and ugly. The strings looked way too stiff, too harsh for your weathered old bow. It wouldn’t serve much for anything other than as an oversized chachki. 

However, the way the demon looked at you– or rather, how his hooded gaze looked towards his talons…

He looked bored. Was he so confident that he’d win? Did he think that little of you?

You were so miffed that you found yourself saying yes without a second thought. The minute you did, a deep, haughty laughter filled your ear, and a pit formed in your stomach. A devious smile formed on his lips, eyes upturned and alight with arrogance. 

The darned bastard had thought he had it in the bag… 

Well. You did make a promise. 

However— Pa wasn’t there. 

And you’d be darned if some stranger could think he could walk all over you. 

So you may or not have… tried a little too hard in your wager. Just a little! Well, you technically had to. Since you didn’t want to lose your soul. However, despite the circumstances, you enjoyed your little competition. Not to mention that the further you two went, the more you felt that warm, drunken feeling of satisfaction well up in your belly. 

Cause for a demon so darned confident in himself, he was only really decent at it. Well, scratch that– he was good, but you played your beloved instrument almost every day. 

And the difference in skill was apparent. Extremely so. 

The Devil had felt his fingers ache and knuckles burn from how hard he gripped onto his bow, lips pulled into a tight frown as he watched you practically dance circles around him. Your hands were a flurry of movement and a grin steadily overtook your face the longer you played. 

By the time you had finished, the demon had already given up. He huffed, hackles raised and steam emanating from his fingertips. The black flesh of his cheeks was aglow with a deep, rusted red as he grumbled under his breath. 

With little fanfare, he tossed the golden fiddle down at your feet. None too gentle as it nearly hit your feet, forcing a jump for you. He turned away from you, his tail whipping about erratically, and raised his trident. 

Wait, that was it? No goodbye, no afterword? Not even a cliched speech about how “he’ll be back”? Is he just going to give up? Darn, you had a lot of fun— the horrible threat of losing your soul aside. No one indulged in music with you, not to mention keep up with your speed. 

You bit your lip, and you looked back towards the demon. 

Oh, your pa would kill you for this. 

Just as a portal was torn open, flooding your nose with the scent of smoke and sulfur, you made up your mind. 

You grabbed his tail.

The limb felt strange in your grasp. It was thin yet dense with underlying muscle; like grabbing onto a cottonmouth. Not to mention it was hot. Overwhelmingly hot. Practically burning your hand. You watched as the pointed tip quickly wrapped itself around your wrist; coiling itself until you felt the blood circulation become cut off.

Nevertheless, you persisted. Biting through the pain with watery eyes as the Devil immediately stopped. He whipped his bed back to you, nose scrunched and face pinched into a sour frown. A low growl emerged from his throat, annoyance clear as day in his sickly yellow eyes.

You grinned.

“Now hold on, Mr. Devil,”  you start, casually placing your fiddle on your shoulder. “I gotta say, that was probably the most excitement I’ve had in this part of Georgia in years-”

“Get on with it.” 

Yeesh. Someone was a little cranky. 

“Alright, alright, keep your pants on, mister,”  you snort. “Now, before I was so rudely interrupted, I just wanted to say you’re always welcome to come back!

”

The Devil’s face relaxed for a moment. Nose no longer as scrunched as week-old laundry and lips dropping its frown. He didn’t relax his grip on his trident. 

“What.” 

“Yup!” you chirp, your lips popping at the p– an action that didn’t escape the demon’s notice. “Listen, it gets mighty boring around here! You’re welcome to come on back if you want to try again!” 

The Devil turned to face you fully now, brows knitted together as he stared down at you. His mouth fell open, then closed, then open again. This repeated a few times as he silently stared at you. He shook his head, leaning his weight against his trident as he lowered himself to your height; eyes narrowed. 

“What.”

“Ya heard me.” 

“Hold that tongue of yours, yokel,” he spat. “What game are you playing?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Your offer. You do realize the gravitas of this offer, no?”

“Yessir.”

“You said I was welcome to try again. Your soul will always be at stake, do you know that?”

“Yup.” 

“Once you lose it–”

“If I lose it. Ya haven’t beaten me yet.”

“Oh shut it, you little shoehorn,” he jabbed a clawed finger at your chest. “Once you lose it, your soul is mine, and you’ll be cursed to live out the rest of your pitiful existence as a husk. Devoid of any consciousness.”

“Uh-huh.”

“You’ll be a zombie, you moron.”

“Copy that, captain.” 

“Are you normally this stupid?”

He grabbed your shoulder at that point, eyes wild and teeth bared. You felt the hot, piercing tip of the prongs of his trident press against your neck; his breath– rich and hot with the scent of tobacco– hit your face in warm puffs. The demon’s nose brushed against yours, and god almighty if he moved any closer the two of you would be kissing. 

Soft, traitorous warmth found itself seeping into your cheeks. Your heart flipped-flopped about in your ribcage like a trout out of water, and you silently prayed that the demon couldn’t hear it as you mustered up a cocky grin. 

“Nope. I’m just the best there ever was.” 

A growl, low and gravelly, rumbled from the Devil’s throat. A look of annoyance filled his eyes as he clicked his tongue. He let go of your shoulder and rose to his full height. The prongs of his trident eased their bite on your neck, no longer threatening to stab into the pliant flesh of your windpipe. 

Blazing metal slowly traveled upwards, leaving behind whispers of heat in their wake as the Devil slowly eased it beneath your chin. The Devil slowly and methodically craned your head up, quietly relishing the way your throat struggled to force down a nervous swallow. 

The demon remained silent the entire way through. Only breaking it to occasionally growl if you tried to speak; his eyes lidded and lips threaded into a thin line. The Devil's tail moved to and fro in a metronomic pattern as his gaze grew hooded; contemplation weighing the lids down as he raised a large hand towards his mouth. 

The entire interaction lasted maybe only a few seconds, but it felt like an eternity had passed before the silence was broken by another low rumble from the Devil. Not quite a growl, but it wasn’t a purr, either. You couldn’t put your finger on it. However, you could guess it only meant something good, as the Devil finally moved his trident away; and you find yourself shakily releasing a breath you didn’t even know you were holding. 

“Very well.” The Devil shifted his trident beside him once more. “I accept your offer.”

He knocked the butt of his trident against the earth once, twice, and the earth yawned open once more. Red light washed over the demon’s form, illuminating the demon’s back in a crimson halo. 

He grinned, baring sharp teeth, eyes full of malintent, and your stomach rolled as you could only imagine what was going on in that man’s head. 

“I won’t stop until that soul is mine, little mortal.” He pointed a finger towards you. “You best keep yourself sharp. I’d hate to be disappointed after all of that talk.” 

You watched as he stepped a foot within the portal, cheeks pained as you fought to maintain your cocky grin. 

“Lookin’ forward to it, sweetness.” 

The endearment was tacked on at the last minute. You didn’t mean anything by it. After all, you had just beat the Devil at his own game. You were safe. For now, at least. Perhaps it was just the high of victory that had pushed you to be a bit more saucy with the demon. 

What you didn’t expect, however, was the way his face fell. It was hard to make out from the red light of the portal beneath him, but you coulda swore that you saw his dark cheeks become a rusted brown. 

He turned his head before you could look any further, an annoyed huff following after. 

“Good grief you’re annoying.” You heard him mutter. “I cannot wait to crush your pathetic body into the ground.”

“Don’t get too excited, Mr. D.” 

Oh my god, why couldn’t you just shut up?

“Keep talking like that and I’ll start to think that you want to see me again.” 

While a part of you panicked, it was overpowered by a snort as the Devil let out an offended ‘UGH’ before leaving. He had practically leaped into the portal, desperate to get away, leaving behind smoldering earth in his wake. 

As you stood there, heart frantically racing, all you could do was wonder when the next time you’d see him would be. 

And you silently apologized to your pa for looking forward to seeing the Devil again. 

┕━━━━━♥♠♣♦━━━━━┙

[softpine]

This might be juvenile, but do you have any tips on not comparing yourself to others? (Especially when it comes to note count or popularity.) I’ve been posting a story for over a year and it hardly gets any traction. It’s tough for me to see new creators post and get hundreds or even thousands of notes. I hate that I’m doing this but don’t know how to quit it!

this is not juvenile!! i struggle with this myself, especially knowing that i hit my peak years ago and i've been on the decline ever since – but only by numbers alone! i'm more proud of my story than i've ever been, i'm more attached to my characters, i'm putting more love and thought into everything, but i had to be realistic with myself and understand that i'll never pull even half the notes i did in 2020. gone are the days when i would wake up to 3 new anons about my story and dms from people every day (i can't believe i used to get overwhelmed by it...) and i would be lying if i said it didn't make me sad sometimes, because we're humans and our brains are practically wired to crave the hit of happy chemicals you get from seeing the stupid number go up 😭 it does feel demotivating. it makes me feel less urgency to post quicker if i convince myself that no one is waiting for me anyway, which means i post less, which means even less people stick around, which makes me post less, and on and on. it's a tough thing for me to come to terms with in all honesty.

but it helps to remember that i would be writing even if no one is reading. and i know that, because i have! i've written entire novel-length fics that i've never published, i've written countless short stories in the frozen pines universe that i'll never post, i've created alternate universes that will never be shown, etc. i do it because the idea is in my head and it needs to Get Out and i'm kinda just a conduit for that. that might not apply to you, and that's okay! everyone is different. the important thing is to really sit down and think about WHY you write and what you get out of it. which part of the process makes you happiest? what makes you feel a sense of fulfillment / satisfaction? play to your strengths. try not to spend your time doing things you think other people will enjoy and instead, spend more time on the things that make you happy. for me, i haaaaate editing and i always have, so lately i've been trying to speed through it a little bit quicker even if it means the final product won't be as appealing to others. (this is still a work in progress for me...) i have more fun when i experiment with different writing styles, which might not appeal to others because it takes longer and i don't really have a recognizable style, but i don't care anymore because i'm having fun! ask yourself what YOU want from your story, and then write for yourself and only yourself.

essentially what i'm saying is: there will ALWAYS be people more popular than you, and there's no guarantee that when you find the popularity you seek, you'll be able to keep it. so you need to find some sort of intrinsic motivation to continue or you'll just keep comparing yourself to others forever and you'll deny yourself the joy of creation! "comparison is the thief of joy" could not be more true!!

[sukirichi]

black magic [01]

REQUEST. arranged marriage + enemies to lovers (sukuna is a simp and lowkey a housewife)

CONTENT/WARNINGS. some suggestive scenes, but overall fluff and romance! slight crack fic, I guess? I was laughing when I wrote this lol

NOTES. I NEED A HUSBAND! SUKUNA I’M GOING TO CRY GOODBYE THIS HAS ME SOFT. also anon i’m not sure if you wanted something with more ~sexual tension~ since this is kind of just comedic, but I hope you like it anyway!

part one | part two (nsfw)

“This is new,” you comment with a glare, your ankle propped on Sukuna’s knee.

“Shut up,” he rolls his eyes, pushing your skirt aside to clean the wounds you attained through exorcising curses. You’ve taken a particularly strong curse today and you’re caught off guard, barely finishing the mission unscathed. Limping all the way back home isn’t easy especially since you live on top of the darned mountain, but if Sukuna’s going to kneel in front of you like this...maybe it wasn’t too tough a journey. “You should stop going to missions you’re not ready for. Look at you, all wounded and bloody.”

“You sound like you care.”

“You’re my wife,” he huffs while dropping the bloody towel on the floor. Sukuna wraps the bandage around your ankle and carries you bridal style even though you’re perfectly capable of walking, but he shoots you a silencing glare. You’d have knocked him in the face any other day, but he’s particularly warm and smells nice today – plus you’re beat – that you bury your face in his chest, ignoring that stupid fluttering in your stomach. “Of course I do.”

You snicker, mind tracing back to your earlier years of this dreaded marriage.

It definitely wasn’t the best – the memories blurring between strangling each other to making out as if breathing was never a thing – and it felt like forever ago when you first met him.

You’d never say it out loud, but... you don’t regret this arranged marriage. Not when Sukuna is tucking himself beside you on the bed, your head above his muscular chest a place similar to home. He covers both your bodies over with a blanket, pulling your body closer to him with a strong arm, his lips pressing onto the crown of your head.

Ugh, you think to yourself, giving in to the need to cuddle your husband after a long day of work. You still refuse to say it out loud, though, and you irk him further by muttering, “That’s not what you said two years ago.”

“I wasn’t in love with you then.”

 “I refuse to be married to you!”

Sukuna fights back the urge to cover his ears. Ever since your clan decided to visit his land and started exorcising curses one by one, his life has been nothing but hell. Not only are your relatives the most arrogant people ever with a consistent god complex, they just had to let their little mortal child be in charge of taking on the stronger curses. Seriously, what were they thinking, sending you – who’s barely even out of their training bra years – to deal with curses like him?

Everyone knows Sukuna is a no bullshit man. He won’t hesitate to cut your head off the moment you came raging at him, but then he sees how young you are and decides to send you back to your family.

Expecting that everyone would just call it a day and he’d get offerings for his unexpected mercy, Sukuna is beyond stupefied when they send you back to his temple, all dressed pretty with a basket of fruits and flowers braided in your hair. He remembers growling because you look adorable, but that’s easily wiped away when you open your mouth, your voice scratchy against his ears as you stomp your feet like the young mortal you are.

Sukuna pushes a thumb to his forehead to ease the impending headache, and that’s just from your presence. Something inside him tells that you’re going to be a bigger pain than you look.

“You don’t have much of a choice. You should’ve thought of that before deciding to run rampage over my land,” he reminds, turning boredly to his lone servant from above his throne. Sukuna isn’t impressed, to say the least, especially with your clan’s audacious proposition to gain his favour just this once. “Is this really the woman you bring me – the one they insist to be my wife?”

“She is their best fighter, my Lord.”

Well, he can’t disagree to that. You did, after all, single-handedly give him a cut on the cheek. “She’s feisty indeed.”

“Don’t talk as if I’m not here!”

“Mouthy too,” he mumbles to himself, but your sorcerer senses are sharp and easily picks up on it. He sees you flush angry again, looking immensely adorable with your tiny fists clenched like that and he snorts, waving a hand in the air. “Whatever. Get the wedding over with,” he nods to his servant, his sigh loud and tired as he makes his way to you.

You don’t stiffen at each haunting step, his eyes only glimmering harder with entertainment. It’s rare to find a mortal that doesn’t quiver at the sight of him, the urge to break you only growing stronger.

Even as he cups your face, making sure to not let his claws dig into your precious skin, Sukuna smirks. You’ll be entertaining indeed.

So Sukuna makes a promise, four eyes surveying the way your body is starting to fill in curves at the right places, the swell of your flesh just perfect in his hands... He chuckles to himself, daunting you further as he leans down to your ear, taking pleasure in the slight way your breath hitches. “Maybe then I’ll get to teach you a lesson or two.”

You’re definitely something else, taking advantage of each presented opportunity and not wasting any time before you make your move. Right after the wedding and everyone’s left, leaving you alone with your new husband behind closed doors; you push him until he’s on the ground, legs straddling each side of his hips while you growl above him – the sound similar to a battle cry.

Sukuna merely smirks, barely moving a muscle as his large hands come up to rest on your hips to steady you. “I’ve imagined countless ways you’d be on top of me like this,” his eyes light up with humour upon feeling the cold blade on his skin, “None of them included a knife on my neck though.”

“Shut your mouth. I will kill you myself,” you warn, pressing your knife harder until it draws a slight tinge of blood.

You hardly look threatening above him like this, dolled up to look the best in your wedding with this cursed being. If anything, you look more divine than deadly, and Sukuna thinks that perhaps your beauty could be your best weapon. You are bewitching, after all.

“I refuse to be your Queen and sit next to your throne.”

“Then why didn’t you stop the wedding?”

“I—”

Sukuna’s teasing grin grows wider when you pull back, trying so hard to not trip over your words. It takes all of his self-restraint to not take you right then and there, but he does a good job of holding back, enjoying this view above him instead. “Could it be you’re attracted to me after all, hm, little one?”

“Do not test me, Curse. I’m more than capable of exorcising you myself.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that. You’re the strongest in the Gojo clan, are you not?” he prompts to appease you, “I don’t even want to see what you’re capable of, but maybe, just maybe...” just as his eyes darken, the edges of his lips turning up into a smirk, Sukuna digs his claws into your thigh in a possessive show of ownership, a painful reminder that you’re his now. “...You could put on a little show for me?”

“I hate you!”

Experienced and strong as you are, you’re nothing compared to a thousand year old curse who’s killed a lot more people faster than you could blink. Sukuna immediately notices the animalistic way you draw your blade, arm swung back with rage written all over your face. Before you could so much as bat an eye, he easily switches the positions until you’re under him, using only one hand to pin your arms above your head, your blade effortlessly thrown to the other side of the room.

“As I thought, you’re a lot prettier under me like this,” he observes, roaming his eyes shamelessly over the fabric clinging prettily to your body. You’ve fallen silent at his unconcealed attention, your compliance enticing him to lean closer just to inhale your intoxicating scent.

“Not so feisty now, little one? Where’d all your hatred for me go?” Sukuna pulls back with widened eyes, “Oh? Am I hearing it wrong or is your pathetic human heart beating so loud right now?” You refuse to look at him, wriggling your hips in an attempt to leave, completely unaware that the mere movement is hypnotizing the curse above you. Sukuna grips your hips in warning, not wanting to destroy you – not now, anyway. “You know all you need to do is say it. I’d gladly take you right here and then.” His words spoken with that deep, throaty voice immediately sends a wave of heat down your core, but you turn away from him, breathing hard and nervously; something Sukuna picks up on in an instant. “Little one...have you never had a man hold you like this before?”

“N-no...”

“I see. Pure and innocent behind that ferocity, huh?” He surprises you by pulling away, smoothening his white robes down as he leaves you panting still on the floor. “Fine. I won’t touch you unless you ask me to.”

“I’d rather die before that ever comes out from my mouth.”

“We’ll see about that,” he smirks, winking at you before he shuts the door. “Little one.”

There’s a lot of weird – and utterly inconvenient things – about being Sukuna’s wife. The man eats everything, absolutely everything, and it doesn’t help that he sucks at hunting too. For a man so huge and burly, he sure is lazy, preferring to do the laundry in the riverside instead while you go out every day to prepare your meals.

You actually don’t mind, but it’s very fun to complain around him.

You’re on your way back to the temple when Sukuna grabs at you, making you drop the freshly caught birds onto the ground. Your brows furrow, about to scold him for being too eager again when Sukuna stares at your arm, his lips pressing into a thin line.

Following his line of sight, your lips form an ‘o’ shape. There’s blood trickling down your forearm from his claws accidentally cutting you, guilt written all over his face. Another weird thing about Sukuna is that he babbles a lot when he’s emotional, and you’re too tired to hear him beat himself over it that you just drag him inside your room, sitting his ass down before taking a clipper.

Sukuna scoffs when you start cutting his nails. It irks him that you don’t even bother wiping the blood off first and he tsks, eyes narrowed at you. “You should have thicker skin.”

You roll your eyes as you file his nails; you’ve been married to him long enough to know it’s his way of saying sorry. Not wanting to let him wallow in guilt any louder, you pad kisses over his knuckles before swiping the black ink off your desk, using a pen brush to colour your nails instead. Sukuna hovers behind you, head tilted to the side as he watched you. “Are you painting your nails black?” he utters in disbelief, trying to ignore the fact he feels...proud and even a little smug. “Not so fitting for the angelic sorcerer now, isn’t it?”

“I’m only doing this so you don’t feel left out.”

“Maybe I’ll add markings to your pretty face too,” he cups your jaw to make you turn to him, landing a solid kiss flat to your lips which makes you sigh, pretending to be annoyed but leaning over for another peck anyway. Sukuna laughs and pulls you onto his lap, kissing your neck this time around, a little annoyed that you don’t stop in brandishing your nails. “Wife, what do you think?”

“I have work, Sukuna. You flirting with me doesn’t change the fact I need to go.”

“Come home safe for me, at least?” he breathes down your neck, his touch sending shivers down your spine. You’ve definitely changed since the first time he’s met you, starting from a mean (although he stands strong that you are still mean to him sometimes) temperamental little one to a mature, stronger sorcerer who’s secretly weak for his wife.

Unable to resist him as always, you turn around once you’ve finished painting your nails, rubbing your nose over his until your strong, scary husband is turning into putty at your hands. “Of course I will,” you peck his lips one last time, Sukuna’s eyes closing as he dives in for a deeper kiss. “I’ll always come back home to my handsome husband.”

If anyone were to ask how it’s possible that the King of Curses is actually very soft for his sorcerer wife, everyone would claim it’s impossible and a heresy – but if you ask Sukuna, it’s probably just black magic doing its wonders.

[thefanficmonster]

Lover

Jacksepticeye x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: Swearing, Cheesiness and no I’m not sorry for it

Genre: Songfic, FLUFF, Romance, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Yours and Jack’s love story told through Miss Swift’s lyrics.

Requested by Anon. Hi darling! Thank you so much for being my first official Jacksepticeye request, it means the world to me! I apologize for the long wait you’ve had to endure and I hope the fic makes up for it! Love, Vy ❤

We could leave the Christmas lights up ‘til January

“Y/N, are those Christmas lights?!“ Your friend, who you’re on facetime with asks as you give her a tour of the apartment you and your boyfriend Sean just moved into.

“Yup!“ You answer, moving onto the other room, paying the question no mind while your friend is baffled.

“Hun, it’s January. Why are your Christmas decorations still up?“ She questions, taking a sip of her tea as you roll your eyes at her.

And this is our place, we make the rules

“New apartment, new rules.“ You explain, short and sweet before deciding to elaborate, “Ok, they just look good in the background of Sean’s videos so we opted to not take them down a little longer.“

Well, that may or may not have been the complete truth but oh whatever. I mean, what you said was true - the lights did give a nice aesthetic to Sean’s videos and accented the background of each shot. However, you happened to leave out a little detail...

And there’s a dazzling haze, a mysterious way about you, dear

You love the way the lights reflect in Jack’s eyes every time the other lighting in the recording room is off. The way they add a glow to him like either the misunderstood villain or the unknown hero of a story. 

You love the way they’re outshined by his smile when he notices your presence in the room. You revel in the small moments like the that. The way he’d stand up from his chair and come to where you’re standing in an attempt to be out of frame and not be captured by his camera but he’d take your hand and pull you closer, spinning you in the process, just to catch and dip you like the prodigy dancer he is.

“I just came to ask if you wanted a cup of coffee. What is with these formalities?“ You’d tease, still at the mercy of the hold of his arms, being the only thing holding you up.

He’d chuckle, “Nothing but the best for you, darling.”

Regardless if he was the hero or the villain, you’d still be his partner, whether that be in crime or in justice.

Have I known you 20 seconds or 20 years?

You and Sean have known each other longer than you have been dating. You started off as awkward acquaintance, soon moved on to friends, then drinking buddies and then buddies for making out in the backseat of his car. It was the slow burn of the century and it often feels like a century in and of itself when you think back at how long it took you to act on your feelings for one another.

You believe that even if it were a century, if it all went down a hundred years ago, you’d still have it fresh and detailed in your memory. And it’d still feel like it had all flashed before your eyes at the speed of light. No amount of time spent with him was enough for you. Even a forever wouldn’t suffice.

Can I go where you go?

You remember the many times he’d travel to the US or back home in Ireland back when you were still just friends and you vividly remember the gaping hollowness that’d open up in your life while he was gone. You had no way to explain it to any of your friends because you knew full-well they’d tease the shit out of you for your crush on Sean.

Seeing him leave when you started dating wasn’t any easier either. In fact, since he had become an even bigger part of your life at that point, you  found yourself even lonelier than before. Your bed felt too big, the apartment felt too empty and quiet. 

And your days were too bland.

Can we always be this close forever and ever?

But you also remember the warm hugs and cuddles and the inseparableness when he’d return. The way you wouldn’t leave his side and he wouldn’t leave yours, insinuating that he had missed you just as much as you had missed him.

You remember waking up before him and not being able to get out of bed due to how tightly he was holding onto you even in his sleep - something he still does frequently and which can turn into a real nightmare if you need to use the bathroom in the middle of the night. But man, is it worth it.

And ah, take me out, and take me home

Regardless of where the two of you would go, no matter how far away from home you’d be you’d never notice. Why? Because that apartment was and still is your secondary home - you were and still are each other’s home. 

He could make you or break you and he’d still be your home. He could make you upset, which has always been such a rarity, I’m talking once in a blue moon, and yet you’d still find the solace and comfort in his arms because he is you home.

You could piss him off or say some hurtful stuff in the heat of the moment and have him close himself off, but he can never stay away from you. He always seeks sanctuary in your embrace. Because you too are his home.

You’re my, my, my, my...Lover

He indeed is your lover. He’s the first person you’ve ever had such a strong connection to and the first person you’ve ever been so head over heels for. 

He’s the first boyfriend you’ve confidently been able to say you love.

*  *  *  *  *

Ladies and gentlemen, will you please stand?

One of the fondest memories of your relationship you’re more than certain you’ll never forget is the first time you attended VidCon with Sean. It had taken a lot of begging on his end but when you finally agreed to tag along, you immediately knew you wouldn’t regret it, seeing how happy you made him.

It was your first time in Anaheim so whenever Sean couldn’t accompany you for any activities, you’d go on an exploration adventure, enjoying the sights while also making small mental notes to avoid getting lost. It was a ton of fun, despite having to do it mostly alone and only partnered by the music coming from your earbuds as you browed the city, getting an eyeful of it all while never failing to make it to a single one of Sean’s panels as well. You’ve never been the best at managing your time, often a victim of procrastination, but when your boyfriend was in the question, you aimed to be as spot-on with your timing as possible, even making it places early from time to time which would be super out of the ordinary for you but you’d always brush it off, calling it character growth.

This on panel was no different.

You had miraculously managed to drag yourself to it after almost dropping dead of a heat stroke while out on the town. Your legs were practically jelly as you slumped in the seat Sean had reserved for you. You as well as the rest of the audience patiently waited for the panel to be put into motion but you were far busier trying to keep your eyelids open and not fall asleep in the air-conditioned room that felt like your own personal heaven.

It was a Q ‘n A panel for Sean, one he had organized based on audience interest and you were more than happy to be an active watcher of it considering you could never get enough of seeing your boyfriend blush and chuckle awkwardly as though it’s his first time on stage in front of such a big audience. Although, that only lasted the first few minutes, then he’s loosen up, cracking jokes and sharing embarrassing life stories as well as advice with his fans who were just the sweetest.

At the time, you hadn’t been introduced to them but you found that to be for the best seeing as how you could so easily blend into the crowd with your anonymity and enjoy the show without interruptions or dirty looks.

Throughout the whole thing you were half paying attention and half zoning out into battery recharging mode. However, one question - or rather two, got your ears peaking like a  puppy as your whole body seemed to readjust to pay attention to what Sean would say in response.

The question was quite simple, you’ll admit: “Are you dating anyone at the moment and, regardless of the previous question, would you introduce your romantic partner to your fanbase or would you rather keep the romance under wraps?“ - See, perfectly simple. What bothered you were the ten seconds of awkward chuckling and contemplation on Sean’s end.

You yourself didn’t know how you’d want him to respond so you were just stuck sitting there, cheeks red and head swarmed with worry. You even contemplated shutting your eyes to the ordeal but that’s when you heard it...

“I am, in fact, dating someone and they are the most amazing person I’ve ever met.“ Sean starts, voicing his thoughts without much second-guessing, “I’d be lying if I said I ever expected them to be interested in me. I spent too many years stalling on my feelings to protect myself from rejection that I was certain would smack me across the face if I dared act on my feelings but....then they said they felt the same and although they literally made me the happiest in the world in those moments and every following moment up until now, I couldn’t, at the time, get one question out of my head: ‘Why?’ Why would someone as smart, ambitious and driven as them be into someone like me. At the time I could’ve easily been considered a bum, or a scrub, if you will. But they didn’t seem to see it that way. They showed me and keep showing me what love is all about every single day and for that I’ll forever be indebted to them. Darling, I know you’re in the audience right now, you know who you are, of course, so I just wanna say one thing....and don’t feel obligated to say it back but.....I love you, Y/N.“

Only then did you realize tears were streaming down your cheeks while your lips were stretched into the biggest smile that you had partially covered by your hand as a result of the disbelief.

With every guitar scar on my hand...

Before you could think twice, you shot up from your seat...

I take this magnetic force of a man to be my lover

“I love you too, Sean!“

[merlinfic]

group ask for lost fics #43

Hi y’all! Below are a few lost fics that us mods just can’t seem to find. That being said, we’re hoping that you lovely followers are able to help! If anyone knows any of the fics below please reply below or send in an ask with which anon/user and group ask that the fic corresponds with when the ask is back open!

Note: previous group asks and all lost fics!

Anon 1 asked:

I read this fic a while back, and I’m like 90% sure it had background Merthur, but all I really recall is that it had Morgana/Gwen, there’s was a line about them fucking all night when Morgana took over Camelot the first time and how Gwen really was genuine about how she felt, and Gwen sided with Arthur instead because of the two siblings, Arthur wasn’t the one firing into the crowd of civilians (I can’t remember exactly how she worded that, but she does state that that’s why she chooses to side with Arthur)

Anon 2 asked:

hi!! i was wondering if y'all could help me find a fic? it was on ao3, and it was set in a camelot that hadn't banned magic, but had basically banned clothes instead. merlin was the only one to basically wear clothes, and at the end arthur said something about letting him only keep his neck scarf iirc. thanks!

Anon 3 asked:

Thanks for everything you do!

The fic I’m looking for is canon era. Arthur and Merlin are out with some Knights (not the round table nights like Gwaine or Leon). They find an old house to set up in. The knights treat Merlin like crap while Arthur’s away doing something and they make him sleep outside in the cold with The horses and Merlin gets sick.

I remember Merlin and Arthur having a conversation while he was recovering (they’re still in the house and haven’t made it back to Camelot). He tell Arthur about the knightsand says if Arthur didn’t do something about their behavior he was leaving. I think Arthur was only Prince and he knew about the magic (don’t hold me to that though). Any help you can provide in finding this lost fic is much appreciated!!

Anon 4 asked:

Hello there! I am using this feature for the first time so I apologize for any mistakes. I am looking for a merlin fiction that included dragons which I can't find. The dragons were living in a cave and Merlin would sneak to visit them. There were all kinds of dragon who were fascinated with Aithusa. The Knights are aware and help Merlin with taking care of Dragons (feeding, bathing etc). There was also a caretaker which everyone found 'strange'. Merlin was also able to understand dragon speech.

Anon 5 asked:

hi! there’s a fic i’ve been trying to find forever. it’s on ao3 and merlin is like a fairy. he’s small and arthur finds him in the woods and takes him back or merlin comes back on his own volition, and merlin lies and says that there’s like a deal or something to stay i think. it is smutty but i don’t think that it’s like plotless yk? i’ve been looking forever so if you could help that’d be amazing thanj you 

Anon 6 asked:

Hi! I thank you for your work. I've had so much fun with your masterlist. I was wondering if you knew of a fic modern AU where Arthur goes missing and Merlin ends with depression until when visiting his mother he runs into Arthur in a bookstore and finds out that the reason he never came back was because he got in an accident and lost his memory and it goes about how they reconnect and Merlin refusing to tell him about their previous relationship thinking he would leave until the end. Thanks! It was in AO3 if I remember.

Anon 7 asked:

Hello! I have lost fic I have been looking for awhile now. It is on AO3 and it is where Merlin and Arthur are soulmates but Arthur refuses to acknowledge it because he know’s Uther would kill Merlin. Any help is much appreciated!

@tamilhobbit asked:

Hi! I read a bit of this fic many years ago &have been trying to find it since. It was one of those Great Marriage fics. Somehow Merlin got turned into a girl (still looked like himself, new body easily hidden) & was put in the role of High Priestess and had to sleep with/symbolically marry the King of Camelot. Of course he assumes it's Uther and is horrified, esp as he now senses their auras; U feels horrible & dark and he's drawn to Arthur, who feels golden & right. Help? Thank you!

As always, this post will be updated if/when any fics are found!

[majestyeverlasting]

Hi!! Could you write for Bucky prompts 4 and 26??

♡ Hi, Anon!! I love this prompt pairing so much! Thank you for requesting this, and for waiting on me to get around to it! In this one, Bucky and the reader visit a park in Brooklyn that stirs up some nostalgic memories. But what he doesn't know is that, later that night, he'll learn that he's going to be a father. There's some pretty fall imagery and lots of sweet moments. I hope you like it! (Note: this isn’t canon regarding Bucky’s true age)

♡ Prompt 4: "Remember we used to come here when we were kids?"

♡ Prompt 26: “I’m not reading this thing wrong, am I? You’re really pregnant?”

All I Ever Wanted

There was a crispness to the evening air as the beginnings of fall settled within Brooklyn. The trees of Prospect Park, once green, were slowly transitioning into rich shades of orange and red. As you and Bucky walked along one of the pathways, leaves crunching beneath your shoes, there was an absence of car engines and horns—it was peaceful. All there was to be heard was chirping birds, the soft chatter of other park-goers, and the occasional whir of a cyclist’s wheels whenever one passed by.

Upon reaching a wooden bridge, the gentle sound of flowing water emerged as well. Beneath it, was a slender waterfall that fed into a small pond with dead leaves floating on the surface. Bucky wrapped an arm around your waist as the two of you admired it from over the railing. Somehow the whole day, including that moment itself, had managed to feel like a dream.

The two of you hadn’t been to Prospect Park in what felt like forever. Life had a way of sweeping you up in winds of responsibility that kept you from enjoying moments of stillness. But those winds had since drifted elsewhere, leaving the two of you with the freedom to simply be. Venturing out into nature and away from the noise had been Bucky’s suggestion earlier that morning. There was no place like the outdoors that was capable of soothing the soul.

“Look, doll,” he said eventually. Your eyes followed where his free hand pointed.

On one of the big rocks peeking out of the water below, a yellow butterfly had perched itself on a rock. “Yeah, I see it. It’s so pretty.” You smiled when he gave you a gentle squeeze.

“You know what butterflies symbolize?” You met his gaze, willing for him to continue. “Life and new beginnings,” he said, pressing a kiss to your temple.

For a fraction of a second, you froze. You’d managed to keep yourself collected for the entirety of the day, but hearing those words quickened your heartbeat. Enough so that you became all the more reminded of what he didn’t know—not yet.

That morning, as he spoke to you through the bathroom door about going to Prospect Park, you’d been staring at a positive pregnancy test. You barely had enough breath to agree to the outing. And when he’d asked if you were okay, you told him you were fine, but left out the fact that your lives would be changing forever in the months to come.

The two lines on the stick explained weeks worth of your body trying to communicate to you. It explained that deep sense of knowing that refused to go away. To say that you wanted to merely tell Bucky would’ve been the largest understatement of your lifetime. With all the emotions that stirred within you, you wanted to scream, cry, and jump at the same time.

A voice within you encouraged you to make the moment you told Bucky really special and intimate. Especially considering every turn that his life had taken over the years. So you vowed to wait until the two of you arrived home from your evening at the park.

“Life and new beginnings,” you repeated. You were already aware that such was associated with butterflies, but hearing him say it in that moment carried a certain magnitude. “I love the sound of that.”

Later, after walking further, you found yourselves nestled on one of the benches overlooking the lake. The water sparkled in the warm light of the sun as it prepared to set. A couple men stood peppered along the bank fishing. Children giggled as they chased after each other. Paired with the fall trees and colors all around, it was nothing short of a beautiful scene.

You let your head rest on Bucky’s shoulder, and took his real hand in yours to play with his fingers. There was a time, years ago, when the two of you would play along that same lake—throughout the whole park, actually.

You were the first to speak after a while, “Remember we used to come here when we were kids?” You straightened up from his shoulder to look at him.

“Of course I do,” he said, a smile starting on his face. “Especially during the summer. We’d always try to find open fire hydrants to play in after we left. And if we were lucky, our mom’s would let us get ice cream or shaved ice,” he recounted, chuckling. “Those were the days.”

You shook your head. “I know. Now look at us.” About to have a child of our own, you thought.

“Yup. Time flies when you’re having fun,” he said, casting out a brief look around at the serenic evening. Then he focused back on you, his tone shifting, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah...” you tried not to answer too fast. “Why?”

Bucky narrowed his eyes a bit and gave a shrug. “I don’t know, I can just tell that something’s on your mind—ever since this morning,” he noted. “But you have yet to tell me what that something is, pretty girl.”

It took everything not to tell him right then and there, as you sat under a blue and orange sky in the park you knew like the back of your hand.

You offered him half a smile. “I’m that easy to read?”

He lifted a shoulder. “Not necessarily. I’ve been reading you for a long time so it’s easy.” You allowed yourself to chuckle when he playfully quirked his brows. “So am I gonna have to work really hard to coax it out of you?”

You shook your head earnestly. “I promise I'll tell you when we get home… I have something to show you.”

On your way out of the park, there was a mama duck waddling under a tree with her ducklings trailing behind her.

It wasn’t until after you and Bucky made it back to your apartment, and had changed into something comfortable, that you told him you were ready. He sat on the edge of the bed as you went to retrieve the small gift box holding the pregnancy test. It was a miracle that you had had enough supplies left over from birthdays and holidays to be able to make it look as presentable as it did.

You extended it to him from a couple feet away. So much anticipation had built within you that you felt light, and as though you were buzzing.

Bucky accepted the box, and looked up at you. There was a sparkle in his blue eyes. “Why are you standing a mile away from me? C’mere.” You inched closer, and laughed when he pulled you to stand more so between his spread legs.

As he began to undo the white ribbon on the box, your lower lip was secured between your teeth. It seemed as though he was moving entirely too slow and fast at the same time.

As soon as he popped the lid off to reveal the pregnancy test sitting on top of little strips of crinkled, beige paper strips, your heartbeat sped up. Bucky’s attention lingered on the test. When he finally looked up, his gaze attested to the influx of thoughts that had been sparked into motion within his mind.

“I’m not reading this thing wrong, am I?” He briefly looked back down to stick again. Two lines. “You’re really pregnant?”

A smile broke across your face. With the news out, it felt as though you were uncaging a group of birds that had been longing for freedom for way too long. Before you could say anything else, Bucky set the box aside and stood to press his lips to yours. You stumbled back at the intentness in which he gripped your waist. It was a kiss that you felt every part of him through; his love, his passion, his warmth. And an intoxicating mix of joy and expectation.

He pulled away just enough to speak. “We’re gonna be parents?” His breath fanned over your lips. Then he leaned back in to kiss you once more, a soft peck. “You’re carrying our child?”

Bucky’s hands slipped under your shirt, and the feeling of palms against your skin was pleasant in the best way. One was cooler than the other, but they were both gentle and reverent.

“Yes,” you breathed. “I found out this morning.”

He scratched gently at your stomach, sending a shiver through you. “You managed to keep it to yourself the whole day. That’s what was on your mind?” He kissed you again.

“You have no idea how bad I wanted to tell you. No idea.” You brought your hands up to his cheeks, the budding stubble scratchy against your palms. “But I wanted to wait until we came back from Prospect.”

Bucky released a breath after a few beats of silence. “I don’t even know what to say,” he said, voice low. “This is so crazy—a good crazy.”

“I know. I’m happy and terrified at the same time,” you admitted. “I’ve never felt this way in my entire life, but it feels….”

“Good,” he finished.

A laugh escaped you. “Yeah.”

Seconds later, he was getting down onto his knees to be level with your stomach. It wasn’t until he lifted your shirt to press a kiss to your stomach that the reality of the moment set in. For the first time since learning about your pregnancy, tears slipped down your cheeks.

Bucky heard you sniffle, and stood back up to take your hands in his. “This is all I ever wanted, you know that, doll?” A few tears had come to the waterline of his eyes. “A beautiful wife, a family. This is all something I thought I’d never have.”

You sniffled again, nodding. “You deserve everything,” you murmured.

“I have my everything right in front of me.”

Without waiting another moment, you wrapped your arms around his waist and squeezed him tighter than you had in a while. Parents. The two of you were going to be parents.

-

Thanks for reading! Feel free to leave a comment, if you'd like. For more fluffy Bucky Barnes fics, click here.

[nevermindirah]

Do you have any thoughts on the use of AAVE for Nile (or lack thereof) in TOG fanfiction? I've been reading some Book of Nile fic and some writers seem to write her as a Millennial™ (using words like "fave" and "woke") but never acknowledge her Blackness in her patterns of speech. I know we don't see her use as much AAVE in the films, but I would argue she's in situations where code-switching would be valued (first in a "professional" environment in the army, then around a group of non-Black strangers).

Hi anon! I have many thoughts on this and I'm honored you asked me! But I should start by saying I'm white and any thoughts Black fans and especially Black American fans have on this that they want to share would be beyond lovely. (I'm not gonna tag anybody bc that feels rude but please add onto this post if any of y'all see this and want to!)

The main reason I personally avoid AAVE for Nile in my own fics is because I'm not Black. But Nile-centric fics by Black writers tend to avoid using much of it too, at least from what I've noticed/understood, and my guess is it's largely for the reason you mention, that she's in situations that encourage code-switching.

In movie canon Nile is highly competent at tailoring her language to each situation she finds herself in. This fantastic linguistics analysis meta shows how skillfully Nile chooses her vocabulary and grammar to meet her goals with different conversation partners in different contexts. In comics canon Nile had a bunch of different civilian jobs before joining the Marines, so she would've had experience code-switching in the ways that made sense for all those different contexts as well as the Marines and her family and high school and wherever else she spent her time before we met her. And now she's spending her time with a handful of immortals none of whom are native English speakers and a fellow Black American but one with a Queen's English UK accent whose professional experience is in the CIA where high-status code-switching is often an absolute must for success or even survival.

Fics featuring Nile are charged with extrapolating from that to how it might show up in her use of language that she's coping with a traumatic separation from her family and her career and pretty much everything she's ever known and now she needs to be able to make herself understood to people who seem to care about her and each other but are super duper in crisis, three (soon to be four) of whom predate Modern English entirely and the only one who's anywhere near her contemporary she's not supposed to talk to for a century. All of these people are telling her that pretty much any contact with any mortals poses an existential threat to her and the rest of the group. How the FUCK is she supposed to cope with that, like, generally? And would it be a more effective way for her to cope if she talked to Andy Joe and Nicky using the speech patterns that she used to use with her mom and brother, to at least retain that part of her identity even if it means having to do a lot of explaining, or would it meet her needs better to prioritize Andy Joe and Nicky understanding what she means with her words over using the particular words and grammar forms she used with her family?

I've seen several fics, both Nile-centric / BoN and otherwise, explore this a little bit in how/whether Nile uses Millennial™ speak. It's often a theme in Nile texting Booker despite the exile because of the popular headcanon that he as The Tech Guy is the only other immortal who understands memes. But Nile's much-younger-than-Booker mom probably uses Boomer and/or Gen X memes and Andy has been adapting to new communication styles for forever as evidenced by her canon high level of fluency with standard-American-accented English.

Which brings us back to people avoiding AAVE because they're not Black and they don't want to make mistakes (or they're not Black and they don't want to get yelled at for making mistakes, though I think many people overestimate how much they'll get yelled at while underestimating how much these mistakes can hurt). I can imagine some Black fans hold back from using much AAVE in fic because they don't want to share in-group stuff with white people who are likely to then adopt and ruin it, as white people so often do with Black cultural stuff. Some links about this including a great Khadija Mbowe video. I'm saying this gently, anon, because you might not know: woke, an example you cited as Millennial™ speak, is AAVE, and that's gotten erased by so many white people appropriating it and using it incorrectly online.

And also there's the part where fandom is a hobby and you never know when you're reading a fic that's the very first thing someone's ever written outside of a school assignment. This cultural considerations of language shit takes a level of effort and skill that not everybody puts into every fic, or even could if they wanted to because they haven't had time to build their skills yet. It's definitely easier for non-Black fans to project our millennial feels onto Nile than to do the layers of research and self-reflection it requires to depict what Blackness might mean to Nile, and it's not surprising that often people sharing their hobby creations on the internet have gone the easier route. There's not even necessarily shame in doing what's easier. It's just frustrating and often hurtful when structural white supremacy means that 3-dimensional Black characters are rare in media and thoughtful explorations of them in fandom are seen by the majority of fans as not-easy to make and therefore Nile Freeman, the main character in The Old Guard (2020) dir. Gina Prince-Bythewood, has the least fic and meta and art made about her of our 5 main immortals.

I've been active in different fandoms off and on for twenty years and I barely managed to write 5,000 words about Sam Wilson across multiple different fics in the 7 years since I fell in love with him. There's an alchemy to which characters we connect with, and on top of that which characters we connect with in a way that causes us to create stuff about them. Something about Nile Freeman finally tipped me over the edge from a voracious reader to a voracious writer. It's not for me to judge which characters speak to other individuals to the level of creating content about them, but I do think it's important for us to notice, and then work to fight, the pattern where across this fandom as a whole Nile gets way less content, and way less depth in so much of the content that's in theory about her, than any of these other characters.

Anyway, back to language. My two long fics feature Nile with several Black friends — Copley and OCs and cameos from other media — but all of those characters except Alec Hardison from Leverage aren't American. It's very possible I'm guilty of stereotyping Black British speech patterns in I See Your Eyes Seek a Distant Shore. I watched hours and hours of Black haircare YouTube videos in the research for that fic and I modeled my OCs' speech patterns on what I heard from some of those YouTubers as well as what I've heard people like John Boyega and Idris Elba saying in interviews, but the thing about doing your best is you still might fuck up.

I'm slowly making progress on my WIP where Nile and Sam Wilson are cousins, and what ways of talking with a family member might be authentic for Nile is a major question I need to figure out. For that, I'm largely modeling my writing choices on how I hear my Black friends and colleagues talking to each other. I haven't overheard colleagues talking in an office in a long-ass time, but back when that was a thing, I remember seeing a ton of nuance in the different ways many of my Black colleagues would talk to each other. Different people have different personalities! And backgrounds! And priorities! A few jobs ago my department was about 1/3 Black and we worked closely with Obama administration staff many of whom were Black and there was SO MUCH VARIETY in how Black people talked to each other, about work and workplace-appropriate personal stuff, where I and other white coworkers could hear. There are a few work friends in particular who I have in my head when I'm trying to imagine how Sam and Nile might talk to each other. From the outside looking in, God DAMN is shit complicated, intellectually and interpersonally and spiritually, for Black people who are devoting their professional lives to public service in the United States.

One more aspect of this that I have big thoughts on but I need to take extra care in talking about is the idea of acknowledging Nile's Blackness in her patterns of speech. There's no one right way to be Black, and Nile's a fictional character created by a white dude but there are plenty of real-life Black Americans who don't use much or even any AAVE, for reasons that are complicated because of white supremacy. (Highly highly recommend this video by Shanspeare on the harms of the Oreo stereotype.)

Something that's not the same but has enough similarity that I think it's worth talking about is my personal experience with authenticity and American Jewish speech patterns. My Jewish family members don't talk like they're in The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel, and I've known lots of people who do talk that way (or the millennial version of it), some of whom have questioned my Jewishness because I don't talk that way. That hurts me. Sometimes when another Jew tells me some shit like "I've never heard a Jew say y'all'd've," I can respond with "well now you have asshole, bless your Yankee-ass heart," because the myth of Dixie is a racist lie but I will totally call white Northerners Yankees when they're being shitty to me for being Southern, and this particular Jew fucking revels in using "bless your heart" with maximum polite aggression, especially with said Yankees. But sometimes I don't have it in me to say anything and it just quietly hurts having an important part of me disbelieved by someone who shares that important part of me. The sting isn't quite the same when non-Jews disbelieve or discount my Jewishness, but that hurts too.

Who counts as authentically Jewish is a messy in-group conversation and it doesn't really make sense to explain it all here. Who counts as authentically Jewish is a matter of legal status for immigration, citizenship, and civil rights in Israel, and it's my number 2 reason after horrific treatment of Palestinians that I'm antizionist. But outside that extremely high-stakes legal situation, it can just feel really shitty to not be recognized as One Of Us, especially by your own people.

It can also feel really shitty to be The Only One of Your Kind in a group, even if that group is an immortal chosen family who all loves each other dearly. Sometimes especially in a situation like that where you know those people love you but there are certain things they don't get about you and will never quite be able to. I'm definitely projecting at least a little bit of my "lonely Jew who will be alone again for yet another Jewish holiday" stuff onto Nile when at the end of I See Your Eyes Seek a Distant Shore she's thinking about being the only Black immortal and moving away from the community she'd built with a mostly-Black group of mortals in that fic. Maybe that tracks, or maybe that's fucked up of me.

Basically, this got very long but it's complicated, writing about experiences that aren't your own takes skill which in turn takes time and practice to build, writing about experiences not your own that our society maligns can cause a lot of harm if done badly, it can also cause a lot of harm when a large enough portion of a fandom just decides to nope out of something that's difficult and risky because then there's just not much content about a character who deserves just a shit ton of loving and nuanced content, people are individuals and two people who come from the exact same cultural context might show that influence in all kinds of different ways, identity is complicated, language is complicated, writing is hard, and empathy and humility and doing our best aren't a guarantee of avoiding harm but they do go a long way in helping people create thoughtful content about a character as awesome and powerful and kind and messy and scared and curious and WORTHY as Nile Freeman.

[xxwritemeastoryxx]

Hidden Marks

Author: xxwritemeastoryxx

Pairings: Elijah Mikaelson x Reader

Request:  Hii! If you still taking request I want ask for an soulmate au with Elijah, where which one of them have the same mark. He and his soulmate are very good friends for a long time and never have thought about this, but someday he see her mark and find out about this but don't tell her for being afraid of hurting her because of his family -Anon

Word Count: 1.6K

Warnings: Tad bit of angst, mentions of blood, but that's canon at this point.

Author’s Note: I apologize that this wasn't out earlier today. But there was some things in it that were bugging me and I just couldn't let it post without fixing it! It's still the 7th for me so this is your fic for the day! I hope you guys enjoy it!

Feedback gives me life and motivation for future things. ♥

“Oh come on,” Y/N said as she turned and faced Elijah as a smile pulled at her lips. “Are you really telling me that you’ve given up on looking?”

Elijah shook his head slightly as he let a huff of air past his lips. “For as many times as you’ve tried to persuade me to find who my soulmate is, my answer has remained the same.”

“Deep down I don’t think you mean it.” Y/N said with a slight tilt of her head. “You give the advice of your best friend ‘needing’ to find who she is ‘destined’ to be with, but you wont take your own advice or mine for that matter.”

When Elijah was younger, he believed that Soulmates finding each other was something magical. He may have lived with his mother who was a witch, and even a few of his brothers, but this was different. Elijah could remember the stories some of the villagers told him about how they found their soulmates. That the marks they were born with would match the person they were meant to be with.

Elijah had hoped that his soulmate would come along and he’d get to experience that kind of magic that he witnessed. He wondered who his soulmate was. How he would meet them and when they would realize who they were to each other. But when Henrik died, Elijah had felt his opportunity to meet his soulmate had been lost the moment he became a vampire.

The magical feeling he once believed in had been diminished over time. As the centuries had passed Elijah had never once met someone who he would ever be his soulmate. That there was no longer someone out there that would share the same mark as he did. As the years passed, the thoughts of a soulmate had all but diminished.

Elijah’s mark had been just below his left clavicle. The mark is a few shades darker than his skin tone. An intricate design of three circles intertwined in a horizontal line. His clothing always covering the mark from everyone around him. So long as it was covered, he wouldn’t be asked about it.

At least that was until Y/N came into his life. The vampire may have been several centuries younger than him, but they had become close friends over the past century. Elijah had met her during his time away from Klaus. The need to be away from his brother for a while had proved to be much needed. And when he met Y/N there didn’t seem to be anyone else better to spend his time with.

But during that time, he never mentioned what his mark looked like, let alone asked her what her mark looked like. Y/N was like Elijah in some ways. She once believed that soulmates were like fairytales. But when she turned, the notion of having her soulmate found had diminished.

“Was it not just a few hours ago that you reminded me that you’d rather not find them?” Elijah asked as he watched her.

The smile she had on her face faded slightly. “I have my reasons.” she shrugged slightly. “I may change my mind if I see you find yours.”

A light chuckle passed Elijah’s lips as he began walking down the pathway they stopped in moments before. “I wouldn’t hold your breath.”

There were several more conversations similar to that between them. But no matter how many times each of them brought it up, they both believed that they didn’t want to know who their soulmate was. They were content with their lives and it avoided the disappointment if their soulmates were human and lost some time ago. This way, there wouldn’t be heartache.

_____

“Elijah?” Y/N called out as she struggled to keep herself steady as she walked into the compound. She hadn’t ever expected to go to Elijah when she had been injured. But she needed help this time. Someone had attempted to shoot a wooden bullet at her and it was currently lodged in her back.

In a blink of an eye, Elijah was in front of her taking in her appearance. His eyes had widened as he helped her over to a seat in the courtyard. “What happened.” He asked as he took note of the current bullet holes in her shirt.

“Oh you know, failed attempt at making friends.” She tried to brush off the pain that was currently radiating through her. “ I just need you to help take one of them out. The others were easy to do. But this one is lodged in there.”

Elijah moved behind her as came to take note of where she had been speaking about. There had been a tear in her shirt from the attempt to make the bullet hole bigger to get the wooden bullet out. He could see the healed spots from the others that she had been able to take out.

It was as he moved the fabric aside to begin pulling the bullet out that he noticed the mark right above it. He stopped for a moment as he took in the horizontal circles that were intertwined. For as many times as he had seen his own mark, it was replicated on Y/N’s skin.

Y/N could feel how he hesitated; she looked over her shoulder at him. “What is it?”

Elijah shook his head slightly. “I believe that is the first time I’ve seen your mark.” He said before he began to poke and prod at the bullet hole.

She hissed as she felt him digging into her skin and muscle. “There’s a first for everything.”

Y/N knew that while they had joked and pressed the other to go in search of their soulmates, they never once actually saw each other’s mark. For the century and a half that she had known Elijah, she had never once seen Elijah’s mark, just as he hadn’t seen hers until this moment.

Elijah hadn’t said anything in response. If anything he was letting his mind go over everything the last several centuries had shown him. He had been at his lowest, the lowest that he could be as a Vampire, when Y/N had entered his life. They had gotten along so well during that time that Elijah just considered it them having a lot in common.

“I take it now that you’ve seen it, you’re going to go on a mission to find my soulmate for me?” She asked a moment later, hoping to fill the air with voices instead of the sound of blood and muscle being messed with.

“I thought you disagreed with that plan.” Elijah tried to keep his voice normal as he talked with her.

As much as seeing the mark should have made him happy, that he should have stopped right then and there and told her what it was that he realized, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. It had nothing to do with the bullet that he was now pulling out from her back. If that had been the case, he’d tell her the moment he watched her skin begin to heal before his eyes.

“Oh, I do.” Said with a nod as rolled her shoulders, stretching out the muscles of her back where the bullet had been moments before. “That doesn’t mean it will stop you from doing it.”

Her words had caused him to chuckle as he pulled out his handkerchief and began cleaning his hands of her blood. She turned towards him in her seat, watching as he tossed the bullet onto the table a moment later.

“I have no intentions of seeking someone out that you do not wish to meet.” He noted with a nod of his head as he looked over at her. Even after getting into some trouble, she still looked as if she could still take on the world.

There was something in her eyes that changed a moment after his words had pierced the air. “Would you tell me if you saw the mark on someone else?”

“Of course.” He said even though it had been a lie. He knew he wasn’t going to speak of the very mark that was on his chest.

As much as Elijah wanted to express every thought he was having at the moment, he couldn’t allow himself too. Not with the past that he had. Not when there were multiple reasons why he didn’t want her to know.

Not to mention the track record he had with the women in his life. While one would argue that it was all meant to lead up to him meeting Y/N, Elijah knew that even she wasn’t immune to the darkest parts of his family or even himself.

He watched as she stood up from her seat. “Thank you for helping me with that.” She gestured to the bullet. “Would I be able to interest you in a little night hunt?”

There was a smirk pulling at her lips, one that Elijah couldn’t stop one from forming on his own. She was offering him a night of catching those that attempted to harm her. Between the two of them, the sport of keeping each other and his family had been a game of keeping score. His head nodded in agreement at the thought of helping her.

He always promised to help keep her safe. And it was as they began leaving the compound that Elijah realized in order to do so, he was going to have to keep his mark hidden from her.

All WorksTag (The tag to be notified for everything I write):@xoxo-nikki-xoxo @mrs-jackson-kenner @mizzzpink @amariaamaris

Always and Forever Tags (All things TVDU):

@taylordrunkonwhiskey @thewolf-and-thesheep @wayward-dan @neeadinghugs @fafulous @kenmen02 @elizamonet @dora-the-grownup @mschellehitt @xanderling @fandom-princess-forevermore @buckysarm4 @hi-my-name-is-riley @helenasingers @hellotvshowtrash @dpaccione @dumble-daddy @theactressstaringinyourbaddream @maldita-world @nikmikaelsonswife @elijahs-wife @avala-moon @swearingsolemnly @hey-there-angels @akshi8278 @imgoingtofreakoutnow @r13mar @raemikaelson @harpersmariano @ghostwriter20

Stag Tag: (All Things Elijah Mikaelson)

@elejah-wonderland @xxsovereignsarayaxx @asiaaisa77 @astudyoftimeywimeystuff @marvel-at-stucky @silvermercy @cassiopeia-black-brenda @nalledimessi @njeancastro316

The Originals Tag: (All Things The Originals)

@zillahvathek @obsessedwithvampires @malfoys-demigod

Bold tags mean one reason or another I cannot tag you in this. If you would like to be added to or taken off, please do so here!

[idmakeitbehave]

Starry Starry Night

Summary: On a night out stargazing, Spencer can’t help but wish for just one thing. Little does he know, he might not be the only one.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x gn!Reader

Word Count: 855

A/N: this is based on a lovely request that I have somehow lost since then, so anon if you’re still out there I hope you see this!!

There was something about this night that felt different, but Spencer couldn’t pinpoint what it was, couldn’t quite put a finger on it. It was the same as most any other night, really. The stars were the same, the moon was the same―even the distant din of the traffic was exactly as it had been every night before.

So, truly, there was no reason for it to feel like this. No reason for him to feel as though he could almost forget where he was, forget who he was, forget the things that he had seen.

No reason except for you.

With you things always felt different, better. With you, it felt like there was hope.

Spencer knew he was being ridiculous. What an absolutely absurd thing to think, an astonishingly strange way to view your best friend. He was certain that if you knew what he was thinking at this exact moment, you’d up and run. Either that or you’d give him a good smack.

Those were the only two options. He couldn’t even begin to dream up any other outcome, didn’t even dare to hope for a universe in which you felt the same. In which you loved him too. In which there was a future out there for the two of you: a million more nights like this, watching the stars on a perfectly ordinary night in a perfectly ordinary park. A million more extraordinary moments.

The fear that he would never have a moment like this again felt as though it might just undo him, and Spencer blinked back the sudden tears that threatened to fall.

A shooting star flashed above, so quickly that he almost missed it. Despite his knowledge that it wasn’t even really a shooting star after all, that it was just a tiny speck of dust hurtling through the Earth’s atmosphere, he couldn’t help the intrinsic pull to make a wish, just as he had done so many years ago.

And then you reached out to him, taking his hand in yours easily, like you had done it a thousand times before. Your interlocked hands fell to rest between you on the thinly woven blanket, and Spencer barely remembered to breathe.

“I used to want to live in the stars.”

It had been so long since either of you had spoken that it was almost jarring, this perfectly silent moment so perfectly broken.

“Really?” Spencer turned towards you, instantly taken aback by how the moonlight had illuminated your face, highlighting the slope of your nose, the fullness of your lips, your gaze as it met his. He thought briefly to himself that your eyes were brighter than all of the stars combined. He would, of course, never tell you this.

You nodded, blissfully unaware of his desperate attempts to memorize each and every detail of your face. “Yeah, like in The Little Prince, you know? That way, even after I was long gone, someone out there might still remember me. Like they might look out at the night sky and think of me.”

“I would remember you.”

You arched an eyebrow, lips upturned in a smirk. “Oh, yeah? In this hypothetical universe where you live forever?”

“Mhm.”

“That doesn’t count. You’d remember everything.”

He shook his head. “No. Even if I forgot everything else, I’d remember you. Always.”

The teasing gleam in your eye vanished, replaced with something different―something that looked a lot like hope. You gave his hand a little squeeze, and he thought that his heart just might stop. “You want to know what I wished for?”

Spencer had all but forgotten about the shooting star, but he nodded anyway. He wanted you to tell him anything―anything at all.

He wanted you to tell him everything.

“I wished for you.” You said it so quietly that he almost assumed he had imagined it. The pause that followed it felt as though it echoed, solidifying the fact that this was just one cosmic joke that the universe had decided to play on him, but then you continued, “I wished for a million more nights like this―nights with you. Anything with you.”

It took him longer than it should have to process the words that you had just spoken, but the moment that it clicked, it felt as though everything had suddenly fallen into place in a way that he had been certain it never would.

He let out a laugh, bright and brilliant and so full of joy that he thought he just might burst.

You pulled a dramatic frown, a look of feigned offense flashing across your face before that luminous grin of yours returned. “What’s so funny?”

Spencer shook his head, more to himself than to you, before pulling you into him, your head dropping onto his chest as though it had happened countless times before, as though it would happen countless times more―it would. “I wished for the same thing.”

You pulled yourself back up for just long enough to press a kiss to the tip of his nose. “Lucky us then. I think we both just might get our wish.”

+++

Link to join taglist

New List:

@sapphic-prentiss @cynbx @blameitonthenight21 @gublersbooblers @saspencereid @averyhotchner @sweetandsunny @multifandomegan @reidvibes @behindyourbarrette @spenxerslut @homoose @spacedikut

Old List: (will tag for the next fic or so)

@diesinspanishbcimhispanic @myglitteringstardust @sapphic-prentiss @fandom-monium @julialuv1d @howdycharlie @fantastic-fans @saspencereid @whxt-to-write @90spumkin @idocarealot @moonstarrnghtsky @thelovelyrose @closetedreidstan @averyhotchner @rainsong01 @multifandomegan @no-honey-no @bauhousewife @shadybagelsludgecolor @idiotinnit @elldell1204 @gublersbooblers @calm-and-doctor @shadyladyperfection @homoose @wheelsup @lowensashleigh @reidingmelodies @spenxerslut @imdefinitelyfloating @spacedikut @spencerreid9 @sweetandsunny @cynbx

[plsimsuchasimp]

gone (cheating ft. kenma)

an anon asked me to write another version of this post, so here it is. i’m sorry about this, it’s definitely not my best work.

request: “Can you do another cheating fic but with kenma since he is my favorite character”

genre: angst

ft: kenma kozume x gn reader, a little bit of kuroo tetsuro

wc: 1.8k

warnings: fainting, angst, implied cheating

Flopping down on your bed, you picked up your phone and shot off a quick text message to your boyfriend, Kenma.

“hey babe, can we call? it’s been a really long week and I haven’t seen you in forever,” you wrote, pressing the send button with only a moment’s hesitation. 

Sighing, you scrolled upwards a bit, reading through the message history. Recently, his texts had been getting shorter and more abrupt, often making excuses when you asked to see him or talk to him.

1 new message. Distracted, you scrolled down to see Kenma’s text. 

“sorry can’t i was just about to sleep”

Frowning, you glanced at the top of the screen. 10:53 pm. He never went to bed this early, let alone slept. Your throat constricted, but you tried to brush it off, the thoughts whispering at the back of your head like malicious pixies, insecurities and harsh words. You stared at the simple string of words, wondering what to say. Are you okay? you’ve seemed off recently. No, you were probably just overthinking it.

“okay, have a good night! ily” Read 10:57 pm. No response.

Putting the phone down, you tried to push it to the back of your thoughts, but it nagged at you. Turning on your PC, you logged onto discord and noticed Kenma’s status. He was playing a multiplayer game, in a VC with one other person. Right-clicking, you ignored the feeling of distrust and clicked on the other player’s profile. 

You knew her- she was a friend of Kenma’s from school. Kenma had promised you they were just friends, that you had nothing to worry about, but the insecurities crept in again as you realized he’d been spending a lot more time with her instead of you. Biting your lip, you looked back at your phone, the accusing text glaring at you. It seemed innocuous, seemed like you were overreacting. Kenma didn’t really get why you were insecure- he always told you he only had eyes for you, but lately, it didn’t really feel like it.

The last time you two had hung out, he’d laughed at something on his phone, then turned away when you asked to see what it was, muttering something vague about a funny tiktok. You didn’t think much of it at the time, but with thoughts crowding your head, you wondered if it really had been just a video. Kozume had always been distant- you understood that when you started dating him, but was it too much to ask for a scrap of his attention? 

You were torn. On one hand, you wanted to trust Kenma, believe that everything he told you was true and he still loved you like he used to. On the other, your gut was telling you there was something off. Praying that he wasn’t hiding anything, you entered a different browser and logged into his Discord account. You’d given each other the passwords to your socials a while ago, your way of showing that you had nothing to hide.

Incorrect login information. The words appeared in red on the screen, the password field outlined in red. You tried again, ensuring that there were no typos, and it still registered as wrong. Your stomach sank, staring at the message on the screen. He changed his password and didn’t tell you. At this point, you knew something was wrong, but you didn’t want to ask him in fear of seeming insecure or clingy, both traits Kenma disliked. Before you could lose yourself further in the swirling tornado of your thoughts, your phone dinged with a new message. It was from Kuroo.

“hey y/n, are you up? we need to talk.”

Brow furrowing, you responded with “yeah, is everything okay?” He read the text, and then the call icon rang at the top of the screen, red and green buttons buzzing gently. You accepted the call, answering with “Hi Kuroo.”

“Hey y/n,” he said, his voice quieter than normal. 

“Are you okay?” He sounded off, sad somehow.

“Y-yeah, I’m fine. There’s something I need to tell you, though.” You paused for a second, hoping it wasn’t what you thought it was, before he continued. “Kenma- Kenma cheated on you.”

“W-what?” Time seemed to stop. you couldn’t, didn’t want to believe your ears. Your breath caught in your throat, shock freezing your body in place.

“Shit, y/n, I’m so sorry. I just found out.” Kuroo was still talking, but you weren’t hearing him. It seemed impossible, even though you’d seen it coming. “Y/n? Are you okay?” 

Startled, you choked out, “Yeah, I’m okay, just a little shocked.” a little was an understatement. “H-how did you find out?”

“Well,” he sighed, “I saw him kiss her behind the cafe yesterday. I wanted to tell you sooner, but I was still figuring out what to do.” Guilt laced his words, and you got the feeling there was still something he hadn’t said.

“What else?” From his slight intake of breath, you could tell you’d caught him off guard. He was silent for a moment.

“He’s been texting her on Discord for the past month or so. I think you know her, (f/n)?” You felt your heart crash into your stomach, and your worst fears were confirmed. Switching back onto your computer, you saw that Kenma was still playing the game with the girl, and your stomach clenched. 

“Yeah, I know her.” He noticed that your voice was quiet, subdued, and he swallowed.

“Y/n, I’m- I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say.” He was silent then, waiting for you to speak.

“No, no, it’s fine,” You said, your voice oddly calm. “Thank you for telling me.”

“Of course. Hey, are you going to be okay?” He asked, unsure what was really happening inside your head.

“Yeah. I’ll be fine.” Before he had a chance to say anything else, you hung up, mind spinning.

Oddly enough, you didn’t feel anything. You knew in the back of your head that this was your way of coping, that the hurt and anger and sadness would come later, but for now you didn’t care. Methodically, you went to all of your socials and blocked Kenma, hesitating only slightly to block his number in your phone.

You shut off your computer and turned your phone to silent, sitting in silence on your bed. Slowly, your eyes filled with tears that spilled down your cheeks, expressionless besides the gleaming tear streaks staining your face. Your shoulders shook, and everything seemed to crash down at once. 

Your body couldn’t keep up, the sobs overtaking you until you were lightheaded. The room was spinning and the shining moonlight was glinting through the blinds at odd angles, seeming to distort your vision. You couldn’t breathe, and then everything faded to black.

You woke up a few seconds later with your head on the pillow, dazed and hearing the blood pound through your head. You groaned and lay there for a couple of minutes, letting your breathing slow. 

You got up and brushed your teeth, staring at your puffy eyes in the mirror. It hurt, to know the man you loved didn’t feel the same anymore. What did you do wrong? Were you too clingy, not good enough, not there for him enough? Why would he cheat on you? 

Guilt vibrated around you, and it brought back the memories of every other time. It must have been your fault- it always was. 

Sleep took you uneasily that night, creeping in around your obsessive, painful thoughts and lulling you to distraction.

The next morning at school, you wiped the pain from your face and moved through the day in a haze. You saw Kenma in the hallway, leaning against the lockers on his phone, and avoided eye contact. When you saw her, (f/n), anger and hurt swelled up in your stomach, and you tried to swallow it and avoid lashing out. 

Later, Kenma stared at his phone as an error message popped up when he tried to text you. We’re sorry, the number you’re trying to reach is unavailable. A pit formed in his stomach, and he went to his other socials, reaching the same conclusions in other places. 

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath, amber eyes scanning the hallway. You were already gone, though, and he moved through the swarm of people, eyes focused on the exit. Where would you have gone? 

When he showed up at your house that afternoon, you were surprised. He doesn’t waste time, showing you his phone and bluntly asking “Why did you block me?” Your eyes widened to see him slouching there, clearly uncomfortable with going out of his way to do this. “Are you angry at me?”

“Kozume, I don’t really want to talk to you right now.” His face twisted at your use of his last name.

“Why not?” 

At this point, you sighed, tired of everything. “You cheated on me. That’s why.” Your voice cracks in the last sentence, and the world stops.

His stomach drops as you turn away, the weight of the world on your shoulders. “N-no. Y/n. Please don’t go!” 

Kenma’s not good with words, and you understand that. Sometimes, though, it feels like he’s not trying. As he shook his head frantically, chin-length hair swaying around his beautiful face, you could tell he wanted to say something, but he can’t.

“What is there to say, Kozume?” Your eyes were brimming with tears, your heart squeezing at the sight of him.

“I didn’t- I didn’t mean to.” Even he knows how weak this sounds, how pathetic of him, and when he looks back up at you, his eyes are shiny. “I love you.”

His words ring hollow, and you scoff. “Where was that love when you kissed her behind the cafe? Where was it when you were constantly texting her on discord? Where was it when I needed you and you weren’t there?” You shake your head, heartbreak written all over your features. It’s then that he remembers the declined calls, the unanswered texts, the neglect he subjected you to as he pushed you away.

“I hope you’re happy with her, because we’re done.”

He didn’t even have a good reason this time. All he knew was that he wanted you to stay, but he knew he didn’t deserve a second chance. Against his will, a tear slid down his cheek and dropped to the floor, making him sniffle. 

There was nothing you wanted more than to pull him into your arms, cry into his shoulder, but you couldn’t. It hurt too much. You stepped back and slammed the door on him for the final time.

Leaning your head against the door, all of your emotions spilled out. You were silently crying, the ache in your chest almost too much to bear. You thought you heard your name outside the door, whispered just loud enough for you to hear, but you just sank down to the floor and let the tears fall.

On the other side of the door, Kenma’s phone buzzed. It was a text from her, and the disgust and anger that filled his stomach at the sight was enough for him to know he’d never forgive himself for hurting you like this.

“I love you.”

a/n: srry for the anticlimatic ending i was just feeling super bad and not in the mood to write but i wanted to get this out here, hope you like it.

[heavyhitterheaux]

She Gets the Last Word Part 2

First Lady of Private Garden Fic

AN: We all know that the First Lady doesn't play when it comes to her husband and PG do not want to have to feel her wrath again 🤭🤭🤭

Synopsis: After dismissing Anitta from the set of First Class, their paths cross again months later at the VMA's hoping that the message from First Lady is still loud and clear.

Pairing: Husband!Jack Harlow x Wife!Reader

Read Part 1 first

Requested by two of my lovely anons and I combined their requests since both centered around the VMA’s. 

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

“Oohh my baby looks so good!” You say as you were reaching up to kiss him but ended up kissing Urban’s hand instead which resulted in you smacking the back of his head. 

“Cut the shit. We should have been gone ten minutes ago.”

“If you don’t get your ass on and let me kiss my husband.” You made a motion to reach up towards him again and instead Urban got in the middle and you ended up kissing his cheek.

“Urban Henry, I’m about to beat you up.”

“You can kiss all yall want later, for now move it!” You then reached up and wiped the remnants of your lipstick off Urban’s cheek.

“Urb, who left you in charge?” Jack asked while laughing and he was finally able to steal a kiss from you.

“Obviously I need to be in charge because if it was left up to me we would have been in the car downstairs already.”

You immediately rolled your eyes as Jack took your hand in his and the three of you started making your way to the elevator. 

Once you reached the bottom floor, everyone was staring at the three of you as Urban held up his hands in defense. 

“Not my fault, I tried. You know Y/N takes forever to get ready.”

“The hell were yall doin? Fuckin?” Druski asked as he looked between the both of you.

“And if we were? I can fuck my husband as much as I please.” You answered while all Jack did was smirk. 

“Yes, babe you can but not when we’re running on a tight schedule.” Brandi added as she reached over to fix your earring. 

“They can wait.” You replied while shrugging.

All of PG, Druski, Julissa, Brandi, and Neelam piled in two SUVs and were now on the way to walk the red carpet at the 2022 VMAs. 

In the first car it was PG and Druski and you felt as though it was a good time to remind them of one simple request before Jack’s big night started.

“PG, I have one simply request for tonight.”

Everyone exchanged glances wondering what your request could possibly be or possibly be about.

“Anything mamas.”

“Make sure Anitta stays the fuck away from my man otherwise I’ll send her the rest of that video along with the other one. I’ll smack a hoe too. I ain’t forget the shit yall pulled.”

“CORRECTION. THE SHIT YOUR HUSBAND PULLED. WE WARNED HIM NOT TO DO IT!”

“Y/N!!”

“Yall said anything!”

“Shit, say less. I’m not trying to have my life flash before my eyes again.” Shloob exclaimed while looking over at you.

“I would pay to see you fight her though.” 2fo confessed and Jack looked over at him with wide eyes.

“Don’t give her any ideas because her ass will do it.”

“Without hesitations.”

“I’m not going back and forth with any of you. I said what I said. Jack this night is really special for you and I want it to go smoothly. However, I will not hesitate to cut a bitch’s throat. Just make sure yall post my bail.”

“Damn, Y/N! When did you get so violent?” Druski asked while looking over at you.

“She always been violent.”

“Nemo, shut up!”

“Uhh, Jack am I lying?”

You looked over at your husband and saw that he was trying not to laugh.

“BABY!”

“I’m sorry mamas but you have. Yall remember when it took almost all of us to break up that fight between her and what was the girls name?”

“Britney Evans! I ain’t never gonna forget that shit. Y/N pulled out half of her tracks.”

“Hmph, that hoe was asking for it. She kept spreading rumors about me.”

“What was the rumor?”

“That I sucked Jack’s dick behind the bleachers at lunch.”

“Well, was it true?”

You got a startled look on your face before looking over at Jack and the two of you busted out laughing.

“So, what if it was? She still didn’t have any business having my name in her mouth.”

“YALL HAVE ALWAYS BEEN FREAKY AS ALL HELL.”

“BROAD DAYLIGHT AT HIGH NOON?!”

“I was horny.” Jack replied while shrugging not seeing anything wrong.

“Should have been somewhere learning something but noooo you just had to get your dick wet.”

“He was learning that he doesn’t like to be deep throated.”

“Y/N, SPARE US THE DETAILS PLEASE.”

“And then I made her send me the video she took of us before I made her delete it.”

“YOU DIDN’T TELL ME THAT.” Jack exclaimed and looking over at you surprised.

“Oh, must have slipped my mind.”

“How does something like that just slip your mind?!”

“Baby, let’s focus on the task at hand.”

“Nah, I’m definitely about to get you for that later.”

“Can’t wait.”

“Can yall chill for five minutes?!”

The both of you looked at each other before answering 2fo.

“No.”

“I am literally amazed everyday that you aren’t pregnant.”

“I just make sure Jack’s cum goes any and everywhere else. Usually it’s my boobs or my stomach. He got it in my hair one time and I was ready to fight him.”

“Y/N, is nothing off limits?! You just don’t care what comes out your mouth!”

“Uhh yall are my best friends. I shouldn’t have to put on a filter around yall.”

“Umm, wait you said you would send her the rest of the video and the other one. What’s the other one?”

“Jack face fucking me.”

“OKAY THAT’S ENOUGH.”

“Well yall asked!” You replied while moving closer to Jack and him wrapping an arm around you.

“Definitely one of my favorites. You took me so well.”

“Or.. should I send her the cream pie one? What do you think babe?”

“Y/N PLEASE MY VIRGIN EARS CANNOT TAKE ANYMORE.”

“Urban you haven’t been a virgin since you were 14. Get the hell on with that shit. Her name was Crystal and you liked her because she had the biggest set of boobs in our grade.”

“You ain’t have to air all my business out like that.”

“Uhh, we literally all know. Druski is the only one who didn’t.” You replied while rolling your eyes.

“You can send me both. For research purposes of course.”

“Fuck off Druski.”

---

You spent the night looking up at your husband in absolute awe.

You were so proud of him and the fact that he was actually getting the recognition was beyond amazing.

Any time he got nervous, he simply looked over at you and you would give him a small smile.

You knew as well as everyone else that your husband was the shit.

As always, PG were sitting all in a row, but they were now joined by Druski, Lil Nas X, and Dua Lipa herself.

You were conversing with Dua when you heard that Anitta would be performing next.

All of them instantly tensed up and looked towards you to see if you had a reaction.

You simply went back to your conversation with Dua not paying it any mind. 

The two of you were discussing a possible collab in the future as well as you wanting her to possibly model for your new clothing line that you would be starting soon.

PG kept their promise and made sure that she didn’t come within ten feet of your man even though you know she wanted to.

You peeped her looking over at PG on the red carpet, she made a motion as if she was getting ready to come closer to them until Jack turned to the right showing that you were hugging that side of his body. Since Jack’s tall frame was shielding you, she didn’t know that you were there too.

Once she did, she walked in the other direction.

The lights dimmed and her performance started and it looked as if everyone in the row was uncomfortable.

Not you though. You could out perform that bitch any day of the week. 

Druski was in his own little world and trying to sing along even though he had no idea what she was saying.

Jack was massaging small circles on the back of your hand and looking down.

Urban was trying to look anywhere but at Anitta.

Nemo played on his phone.

2fo kept his eyes down and to the right 

Ace Pro was trying to avoid eye contact with you.

Quiiso was trying to find something to distract himself.

Shloob was looking at Cope who also made sure not to look at Anitta.

Even though Cope hadn’t be there on set for the exchange between you and Anitta, he wasn’t taking any chances of your having anger aimed towards him.

Once her performance was over, no one in your row clapped besides Druski.

He then looked over at all of you clearly confused.

Until he made eye contact with you and stopped clapping which instantly made you smirked.

Since you all were literally sitting in the front, Anitta quickly caught onto this and the two of you made eye contact.

You simply sent a small smile her way and she got a solemn expression on her face indicating her frustration but quickly recovered since she knew that the cameras were on her. 

“Is it safe to look up now?” Cope whispered at Shloob who then looked over at you.

All you did was nod and let out a small laugh.

Anitta knew better than to try you again.... or so you thought.

All of PG were now backstage waiting to be seated in the makeshift plane to get ready for Jack’s performance with Fergie when she made her presence known.

She had just accepted an award and thank goodness none of you were out there to hear her speech.

If you had tomatoes, you would have threw them at her.

“Jack.” She called out and everyone went wide eyed except you.

“Oh shit.”

“Nuh uh, she better keep it moving.”

“God, I am not tryna die today by the hands of the first lady.”

She tried to move closer to Jack who still had yet to respond to her, but you stepped directly in front of him before she could get any closer.

All Jack did was rub the back of his neck indicating his nervousness. 

“Did you need something?” You calmly looked up and asked her since she literally towered above you.

“I just wanted to say congratulations Y/N that’s all.” She responded while holding up her hands in defense.

“Okay you did so move on.”

“Hmm, I still see Jack has yet to put his dog on a leash.”

All you then saw was red.

“BITCH!” You immediately took off your shoes and lunged for her and she immediately jumped back and flinched.

“OH FUCK!”

“WORLD STARRRRR!” You heard Druski yell as he took out his phone.

“BABY! DON’T!” Thank God Jack and Urban caught you before you could get to her as everyone was now standing around nervous and not knowing what to do.

“I got your dog you dumb ass bitch. You talk a whole lotta shit for someone who can’t back it up. However, I can and have no hesitations to whoop your ass when the awards are over.”

Anitta then suddenly started to look nervous and simply shook her head.

“Whatever.”

“Naw it ain’t whatever. I will mop the floor with you.”

“Shit, she not lyin. I’ve seen her in action. Don’t let her being little fool you.”

“Take your ass on. I’ve now warned you twice to stay away from him. The third time I won’t be so nice.”

“I was just literally trying to get to my seat on the plane and Y/N is over here choosing violence.” You heard Lil Nas X say before he busted out laughing.

“Well you can thank this bitch for that.” You said while eyeing her up and down.

Without another word, she walked into the other direction but not before letting out a deep breath indicating her frustration.

Jack then reached down to help you put your shoes back on and help you to your seat.

“I’m sorry, babe.”

“No, don’t apologize. Shit was kinda funny actually. I love how you’re always ready to fight for your man.”

“And don’t you ever fucking forget it.” You responded as he reached down to kiss you.

“NO! STOP! We don’t want to be a witness to yall eating each other’s faces off and fucking.”

“Send me the video you were talking about earlier!”

“What video?” Dua then asked clearly confused.

“NO DRUSKI. IT’S FOR ME AND MY WIFE’S EYES ONLY.”

“Sharing is caring.”

“What video?!” Dua asked again.

“Jack was face fucking her! Oh and the cream pie one too!”

“Damn, I’d pay to see that. I know that pretty mouth took him so well” Dua responded while winking over at you.

“I don’t share my wife!”

“But you do with Urban!”

“Imma beat the shit outta yall if yall don’t shut up!”

“Are we shooting a porn scene and no one told me?” Chloe asked before busting out laughing.

“I’m down if I can be the third to Jack and Y/N.” Dua confessed before taking her seat.

“Me first!” Druski yelled and the two of you rolled your eyes.

You were now back sitting in the audience with PG while Jack was still backstage changing from his performance.

Dua was set to present the last award of the night and you just so happen to be nominated.

Right along with Anitta.

For video of the year.

I mean you didn’t really feel a type of way about it since all you were focused on Jack and he had had an amazing night and deserved every award that he had gotten.

All you could think about was those late nights and him feeling discouraged, but you would reassure him time and time again that his hard work would some day pay off.

And you were right.

“And now I present to you the last award of the night for video of the year. Let’s take a look at the nominees.”

“Doja Cat, Woman.”

“Lil Nas X and Jack Harlow, Industry Baby.”

“Harry Styles, As it Was.”

“Anitta, Envolver.”

“Y/N Harlow, Big Energy.”

“Ed Sheeran, Shivers.”

Since your emotional support person was backstage, Urban opted to hold your hand which you did at all award shows when you would be nominated.

The butterflies in your stomach that would erupt would be on 1,000.

The way you looked at it, you would be satisfied if anyone won the award.

Except her.

“And the award goes to....”

Dua looked down at the paper and laughed before revealing who it was.

“The beautiful lady that I keep shooting my shot at, none other than... Y/N HARLOWWW! BIG ENERGY!!”

Your eyes immediately began to water as you stood up and made your way to the stage.

Winning awards was something that you never took lightly and you were grateful that people recognized your talent enough in order for you to be nominated. 

Urban had helped you up the steps and you hugged Dua before taking the award from her.

“So proud of you!”

“Thank you. I’m just..wow.”

You made your way to begin your acceptance speech and was met with nothing but screams and applause.

“Yall... yall are too good to me. I definitely did not expect this and if any of you know me yall know I was rooting for my husband to win.”

“WE KNOW!”

You immediately laughed before shaking your head.

“I definitely did not think Big Energy would be as big as it was and I only have my fans to thank for that. Oh, and make sure yall thank Jack because he’s the first one that heard it and I honestly wasn’t even going to release it.”

Just then you were startled by someone picking you up and bringing you into a bone crushing hug.

No one other than your husband.

“My wife is the shit and don’t yall forget it! What I tell you mamas?! What I tell you?!”

You immediately heard a series of aww’s from the exchange between the two of you. Jack then reached down to lightly kiss you before allowing you to finish your speech.

“Whew yall my man so fine and we just love a supportive spouse,”

“YES WE DO!”

“But, I love yall. PG this is literally only the beginning and I cannot wait to see what the future holds for us.”

Liked by jackharlow, druski2funny, dualipa, urbanwyatt, and 3,459,182 others

y/ninsta: I AM SO PROUD OF MY BABY!!! My husband is the shit and don't you forget it 🥺

jackharlow: I love you mamas. thank you for always being there for me. couldn’t have done this without you constantly pushing me for greatness.

y/ninsta: I love you more and I wouldn't have it any other way. 😘

jackharlow: y/ninsta don't start with an I love you war

y/ninsta: jackharlow you won last time. it's my turn. 🤣😂

dualipa: jackharlow well deserved!!! Now lemme get a copy of that video...

jackharlow: dualipa just when we were starting to be on good terms you just had to act outta pocket

saweetie: what video!?

sza: SPILL IT

druski2funny: I agree with dualipa. I need mine for research purposes.

theestallion: WHAT VIDEO

druski2funny: all imma say is who knew y/n liked to be face fucked 🤭

y/ninsta: druski2funny that's why I don't tell you anything

Liked by y/ninsta, dualipa, urbanwyatt. druski2funny, champagnepapi, and 3,497,861 others

jackharlow: We got nothin but winners in this family. my wife and I respectfully letting yall know. So proud of you gorgeous. 😍😍

y/ninsta: I just knew you and lilnasx were about to win lol

lilnasx: wouldn’t have anyone else but you taking it if it didn’t go to us!

y/ninsta: lilnasx aww thank you honey 💕

saweetie: GO BEST FRIEND! that green on you is amazing!

y/ninsta: saweetie thank you bestie! jackharlow actually picked out my outfit!

saweetie: jackharlow oh so you do have some fashion sense

jackharlow: saweetie what’s that supposed to mean?!

y/ninsta: saweetie he not no fashionista but he fly tho! 😌

normani: look as long as it wasn’t ol girl lol

urbanwyatt: y/n was this close to kicking her ass backstage

saweetie: urbanwyatt SPILL IT NOW. I knew my ass should have went. 

urbanwyatt: saweetie me and jack literally had to hold her back. umm the girl who shall not be named spoke to jack and y/n immediately stepped in front of him making sure she didn’t come any closer. all of us just knew we were about to be posting bail money

lilnasx: BITCHHH when Y/N threw off her shoes I was like AWW SHIT

2forwoyne: and then you had druski2funny’s dumbass screaming world star and instigating the shit and he pulled out his phone to record it

jackharlow: shloob was praying not to die 😂🤣

shloob_: shit that’s what ol girl needed to be doing. when y/n lunged my eyes went so wide

druski2funny: 2forwoyne well somebody had to do it!

nemo: I got flashbacks to when she got into a fight with that Britney girl our sophomore year and got suspended for five days

y/ninsta: nemo IT WAS ONLY THREE

2forwoyne: y/ninsta your ass still got suspended tho

dualipa: thank God for jackharlow and urbanwyatt’s quick reflexes lol

neelamthadhani: when are people going to realize that y/n doesn’t play about jack and jack doesn’t play about y/n

y/ninsta: neelamthadhani it seems like imma have to beat somebody’s ass before the message gets across. oh anitta!!! jackharlow sent you another video!!

anitta: y/ninsta I just wanted to say congrats that’s it 

y/ninsta: anitta you can do that on social media

anitta: y/ninsta he’s a grown ass man that can have friends

saweetie: anitta take your ass on somewhere because y/n is about to tear into your ass. don’t say nobody warned you.

y/ninsta: anitta not friends that are women who like to sit on his lap and want to fuck him. been doing that since we were 15 and trust and believe he wants for nothing. get your own man because jackharlow is taken and has been for ten years. if you want to be a hoe, go somewhere else and do it. not in the Harlow household because you will get your ass beat

jackharlow: what my wife says goes and vice versa 😌

dualipa: jackharlow I can still get a taste tho right or the video? whichever you feel generous enough to give

jackharlow: dualipa see yourself out NOW

Taglist:

@harlowsbby

@babyharleezy

@hoodharlow

@stefansalvatoresgf

@jackiehollanderr

@primadxna-girl

@dessmxsworld

@cockslutslurper3000

@raelorns21

@variety-fangirl

@gbaabyyyy

@kamorsstuff

@harlowthot

@sinsandsuccubus

@curlyhairclub

@bootlegroach

@haylexo10

@thinkingaboutjharlow

@laylasbunbunny

@fluidsentiment

@charli123456789

@moody4world

@yourstrulymayah

@yana4life

@beanbagbitch

@alinadolans

@carma-fanficaddict

@minaxcarter

@arination99

@xjup1t3r

@venusvinc

@jacksmoviestar

@jackharloww

@midnight-star47

@jackharlowsbabe

@minkookie95

@inluvwithladybug

@tynesharandolph8633-blog

@exoticr0ses

@jharlowsangels

@jackierose902109

@jackmansbabymama

[noforkingclue]

Love your dark zemo fics! If it’s possible, could you write something where reader goes to him for protection from something/someone else and realizes he’s obsessed too late?

Aww, thank you anon! I'm so glad you like them! I do enjoy writing them, is that weird???

Oh well, I hope you like this fic!

Title: Too Late

Warnings: stalking, coercion

Daniel Bruhl tag list: @anteroom-of-death

MCU tag list: @geocookie21, @greeneyedblondie44, @purebloodwitch

Everything tag list: @greenrevolutionary, @imjustassaneasyou

You sagged in relief as the door opened in front of you. You practically collapsed into the waiting arms, the rain suddenly sounding a lot louder than it had been. Strong arms wrapped around you and pulled you against a soft chest. You buried your head against him as you were led inside, the door shutting softly behind you.

“They were in my flat again,” you said softly, “I know they were. This time I have evidence.”

You looked up at Zemo. He was wearing his dressing gown, his hair still damp from the shower, and he looked at you in concern. He stroked the back of your head as you continued shakily,

“This time my clothes were missing. My favourite shirt, my bra, my-“ you cut yourself off as you felt your cheek heat up, “Underwear. When is this going to stop? I just want my life back without having to look over my shoulder all the fucking time.”

You couldn’t remember when your stalker first took an interest in you, for all you could know they could’ve been watching you for years. However, it was three months ago that they had made themselves known to you. Sending you flowers, sickening love notes, chocolates, all of which went straight in the bin. Your desperate attempts to go to the police was met with rolled eyes and rude comments.

They haven’t done anything violent so you have nothing to worry about.

Just an ex-boyfriend trying to get back with you. Don’t over react.

You should be happy that someone was paying attention to you. Wealthy from the looks of the chocolates. You should be grateful.

The only person who was somewhat helpful had been Zemo, the last person you ever expected to help you. He opened up his house to you, let you air your concerns, believed you when you thought you were alone. And while you stayed with him the notes stopped and for the first time in months you felt safe. However, you knew that you couldn’t take advantage of Zemo’s hospitality forever and eventually you had to leave and go back to your flat. For a while things had been good but then it had started again but this time far, far worse.

The notes were angry and bitter. How dare you leave him? Didn’t you know you belonged to him? You were going to regret your actions and soon no one could save you. It wasn’t until you had stepped out of the shower and saw your missing clothes that you fled back to Zemo. He was the only one who could help you.

“You’re freezing,” said Zemo, “And soaked. Have a shower and warm up, then we’ll deal with this.”

“But-“

“No,” he put a finger over your lips, “Listen to me. I’ll fix this. You’re going to worry about nothing ever again.”

He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and led you towards an opulent room. You could’ve sworn that this one room was large than you entire flat and Zemo smiled at your reaction.

“Take your time,” he said, “Don’t rush. I’ll make you a warm cup of tea.”

When the door clicked shut behind him you stumbled into bathroom. Products that you could never hope to afford were on the shelves and you absentmindedly opened them and sniffed them. All the scents were ones you loves and you never realised how similar you and Zemo were in terms of tastes. You felt a pang of jealousy at his lifestyle but quickly pushed it down. Now was not the time to be envious.

You did take your time in the shower, savouring ever product that you could possibly use. You let out a soft groan as the hot water melted away the chill and cut through the tension in your shoulders. As you stepped out, and wrapped yourself in the fluffiest towel you had ever touched, you grimaced at your wet clothes. You couldn’t go back to wearing those, time to find something else to wear.

You toes sunk into the soft carpet as you made your way across the room. Zemo wasn’t back yet and you couldn’t help but feel relieved. You didn’t want him to see you like this, just wearing a towel. You were grateful for him giving you some space and as you flung open the wardrobe door you sighed at what you saw.

Elegant gowns, tailored suits, formal wear that you didn’t fancy wearing. Not that they weren’t beautiful, they were, but all you wanted was a pair of warm pyjamas to snuggle up in.

“Maybe I’ll have more luck in here.” You muttered as you walked towards the chest of drawers.

You pulled open the top drawer and immediately your blood turned to ice. Your fingers grazed against a familiar top and you heard a disappointed sigh behind you.

“It’s rare that I make a mistake,” Zemo said, “I realised this a bit too late. My fault I’m afraid.”

You didn’t turn around, too afraid at what you’d see. You heard him put your tea down on the bedside table as he walked over to you. You remained frozen in place even when he stopped behind you. He trailed a finger down your neck, his breath hot against your skin.

“Although,” he said calmly, “Maybe it’s better you find out sooner. I wouldn’t want you leaving me again.”

“You… you stalked me.” You said

“I prefer the word ‘protected’.”

This caused you to spin around. On the outside Zemo was as calm as ever but you could see the discontent in his eyes. You weren’t about to play along with his game.

“Stalked,” you said firmly, “You made me paranoid for months!”

“And remember how good it felt to be with me,” his hands moved to your shoulders, “How safe you felt. I can make you feel like that every day.”

“No,” you said, “You lied to me.”

Once against Zemo sighed and shook his head. You felt like a child being scolded by a teacher and your glare hardened.

“If only things are as simple as that,” he said, “Life is rarely as clear as truths or lies. Soon you’ll come to learn that.”

“I don’t see anything complicated in stalk-“

“Protecting,” Zemo interrupted, his voice suddenly harsh, “And if you want your life to continue to be pleasant here you won’t refer to me as ‘stalking’ you ever again.”

You flinched at Zemo’s tone and his eyes glinted darkly at your reaction. One hand moved and undid your towel causing it to fall softly to the floor. You gasped at his sudden action and your hands moved to cover yourself but Zemo was quicker. He swiftly grabbed your wrists and pinned them against the chest. He took a step towards you and pressed his body roughly against yours. You whimpered as the wood dug harshly into your back and Zemo leant closer and whispered against your ear,

“So are you going to be good for me or will I have to start our first night together punishing you? The choice is yours.”

[lucyintheskywithxanax]

Wilhemina Came To A Halt

Requested by anon: “Wilhemina confesses her love to reader on New Years but the fireworks are too loud”

A/N: thank you anon, I really loved writing this fic <3 Shoutout to @mckennamayfairgoode ; your writing has contaminated mine, there is SO much burning in this one x

Word count: ≃ 5 200

When Wilhemina pressed the doorbell, her heart was beating faster than it had ever beaten in her whole life. Her palms were embarrassingly clammy and left glistening shapes on the head of her cane.

A few weeks ago, this state would have terrified and revolted her. Now she accepted it as her new normal whenever she was about to see you.

The truth was, she – the door opened and there you were, flashing the most beautiful, warmest of smiles at her that annihilated all the thoughts in Wilhemina’s brain. She felt incredibly small and incredibly tall at the same time, as if she could melt at your feet and touch the stars.

A few weeks ago, Wilhemina would have been incredibly embarrassed to think that she was the kind of person who could smile giddily at another person for an incredibly long time, and later remember it as one of the best moments of her life. The knowledge was only slightly unpleasant now. It was made easier by the fact that you always, always did the same. Just stood there before her with a smile shedding light on her and your gaze lost deep in her gaze as her heart thrummed in her ears and her fingertips tingled.

Moments like this were too short and lasted forever. She cherished every one of them, collected them selfishly. For the truth was, she was head over heels in love with you.

The revelation had come to her all of a sudden, bursting free after months of denial. She had no idea what to do with it. She carried the love in her, a burden, stifling her and scratching her and painting the world in hundreds of bright colors. She saw beauty in things she had always despised or found ugly. Once, you had exclaimed at the elegance of a flying butterfly – she had fallen in love with butterflies.

Paradoxically, every other human being she found even more pathetic and idiotic than before, since she knew now that they didn’t have the brains to see how beautiful, how charming, and how kind you were. How could they set eyes on you and not lose their heart? There was only one explanation: they were morons. Hopeless idiots. How empty their life was, how empty hers had been. She despised every single one of them who did not fall at your feet or build a shrine to you.

From Monday to Friday she would wake up with an eagerness to see everything that you would touch, to hear everything that you would say to her at work. She would do her hair and apply her makeup with a beating heart that almost made her forget the ache in her back. Painting her face had acquired a new meaning: she no longer only did it to hide the loathsome but also to please, to enchant, in the hope that maybe you would find a glimpse of the beauty you sowed every day of your life. Surely if your fingertips touched her cheek, her skin would light up and shine, and even the world, taking one look at her, would blush.  

The weekends had to pass as quickly as possible. And then they no longer had to, for you started inviting her to your place, on picnics, to the pictures. Talking to you was easy, listening was a blessing. She found that when she was with you, secrets slipped from her mouth and your hands never hurt, but cradled instead.

So here was the truth. Wilhemina was in love. Deeply, infuriatingly. With all the passion that had lay dormant within her. The tiny part of her that had always held on to hope had known that the day she would fall, there would be no restraint: she would love with all that she had. Her world shook and reshaped itself around you. It chose a new sun, and its light reached dark corners that had never been warmed up before. It threatened to thaw the ice in her head and in her chest. It was dripping already.

Now she treasured the beating of her heart. You had given her life value just by looking at her.

So it was with the weight of her love enlightening her from within that she took off her coat and handed it to you with a small smile. And the people in the room who turned to glance curiously at her as she entered, saw the glow and smiled to themselves, as one does who feels in the air the warmth of the upcoming spring.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” you beamed at her; then added low in her ear: “I don’t know half of the people in this room, and I’m not sure the other half I like.”

A small laugh ran past Wilhemina’s teeth.

Your aunt had given you the keys to her flat for New Year’s Eve, since she was away for work and her windows offered one of the best views on the fireworks show. You had invited a few colleagues and friends from Kineros Robotics, who in their turn had invited a few friends of their own. Before you’d known it, you had lost control over the guest list. But you had shrugged good-naturedly, and merely said that this kind of thing happened all the time.

“Is that the man who tried to sell Jeff and Mutt sexy underwear for the robots?” Wilhemina asked, nodding at a man who sat sipping wine on the couch.

You pressed your mouth against Wilhemina’s shoulder to stifle a giggle. “Yes,” you breathed. “He came with a suitcase.” You straightened up, met her eyes with a flash of mischief in yours. “I’ll ask him to try them on on you.”

Wilhemina waved a hello at Mutt just so she could turn her face away from you as heat flooded her cheeks. She didn’t fool you, though. You bit down on a grin, and wrapped one hand around her wrist as you asked her, as casually as possible, if she wanted a drink.

Wilhemina’s eyes flicked down to your hand, as wide and shining as they always were when you touched her. As your fingertips stroked her skin, her cheeks turned that soft pink that was now and forever your favorite color.

“You are such a tease,” Mutt had once told you, a little reproachfully, after he had passed a very flushed Wilhemina hurrying out of your office. “The poor girl’s gonna die of yearning.”

“No she won’t,” you had answered, a fond, dreamy smile on your lips. “Part of loving her is waiting for her. I bet you she doesn’t even know what’s happening to her.”

Wilhemina tapped her cane on the floor. “I’m sorry I couldn’t make it earlier,” she said, eyes avoiding yours.

“That’s alright,” you smiled. “You’re here.” You tilted your head to the side, trying your best to fight your grin as you waited for her to collect herself and meet your gaze again. “Care for a drink?”

Wilhemina followed you across the room, finally taking in her surroundings. There were people sitting on the couch, people on the balcony, people speaking in groups everywhere. Some of them were wearing fancy, glittery clothes; some were drunk; others were dancing to the mellow indie music that tried to make itself heard over the chatter of voices. Cold air wafted through the French windows that led out onto the balcony. Wilhemina’s eyes fell curiously on a group sitting on the floor before she realized they were playing spin-the-bottle. A boy and a girl pulled away from each other with disgusted laughs.

“Shall we?” you teased, with a mock bow.

Wilhemina shook her head urgently, confusion and nervousness written all over her face. She hurried away from the group as fast as she could, and only stopped when she had reached the kitchen.

You fixed her and yourself a drink, then took her on a tour of the flat. The place was quite small, and very crowded, which gave you an excellent excuse to stand as close to Wilhemina as possible, and brush her arm or shoulder with yours whenever you could. Once, as your fingers grazed her hip, Wilhemina almost tripped over her own feet, and you had to cough to try and hide the smug giggle that escaped you.

Wilhemina delighted in the art reproductions you pointed at, the yellowing plants you bent over quizzically, the carpets your feet threaded, the battered old book you picked up from the floor. Even the handle of the bathroom door your fingers closed around looked to her like the most beautiful handle she had ever seen. She skimmed her fingers over it when you were not looking. Part of her was growling that she was being so very ridiculous, but the voice was very weak, drowning in the sea of joy and giddiness that was her mind.

You took her hand as you led her outside onto the balcony. Wilhemina shivered, so you draped a blanket over her shoulders, which she accepted, even though she hadn’t shivered from the cold.

“Look at the view,” you smiled dreamily, leaning against the railing. “It’s so beautiful.”

“Yes,” Wilhemina breathed, looking at you.

Perhaps, she thought, if she shivered again despite the blanket, you would press her close against you for warmth.

She chased the thought away. But it came back, singing and drunk.

She rubbed her arm exaggeratedly.

“Are you cold?” you asked, straightening up.

“A little,” she answered harshly.

“Then let’s go back inside. I don’t want you to catch a chill.”

“I’m fine”, she retorted, still as harshly.

You eyed her confusedly for a second or two.

Wilhemina rubbed her arm again.

A small, amused smile danced on your lips.

“Lucky for you,” you said, closing the space between her and you, “I’ve been told I’m a very good human heater.”

You wrapped your arms around her waist and pressed your front against her back, your chin coming to rest on her shoulder. Wilhemina was very, very stiff against you. But then, slowly, her body relaxed, as if melting in the warmth that oozed out of you and seeped through her clothes

You stayed like this, watching the city lights. Faint echoes of techno music drafted from somewhere on your right. You heard voices, a car honking. You couldn’t tell whether the quick heartbeat you could feel thrumming in your chest was Wilhemina’s or yours.

When you glanced up at her, her eyes were closed. She looked so different from the Wilhemina you had met so many months ago. There had been talks at work, that certainly Mutt and Jeff were paying her or fucking her to be kinder. Once, she had walked in on you pressing ice on your swollen cheek after you had thrown yourself at a big, tall man who had been making dirty jokes about her. Her fingers had skimmed your skin worriedly, big dark eyes scanning your face for any sign of pain. You had lied, invented an excuse as to why you had punched someone twice your size and weight. But God - no one would slander her on your watch.

You rubbed your chin on her shoulder, and stopped yourself at the last second from pressing a kiss on her cheek. Her skin was flushed from the cold and looked so incredibly soft.

“I’m gonna have to go back inside,” you grumbled. “I’m supposed to be the host.”

Wilhemina hummed her disapproval, eyes still closed.

“Will you manage without me?” you chuckled.

God, if you could just – nuzzle her cheek. If there could be no consequences. No risk of her stiffening, closing up, snapping at you, running away. If you could just – press a kiss.

You watched as her eyes fluttered open, and scanned the jeweled darkness in front of her.

“Of course,” she scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

You gave her a gentle squeeze before you slowly peeled yourself off her. The process was almost physically painful, as if she were a part of you now, a new layer of skin. Your heart protested.

You weaved your way back inside to greet a few people who had just arrived. Wilhemina followed you and planted herself in a corner near the front door. She pretended to scan the small crowd, but her eyes regularly sought your face. Mutt and Jeff came up to her to share a few words and then disappeared into the kitchen. The rest of the guests, most of them Kineros Robotics employees, stayed away from her.

You crossed the living room carrying a bouquet of roses and smiled at her. A few minutes later, as you stepped back into the room talking on your phone, you looked her way and waved. Wilhemina moved to another corner when hers got invaded by two tipsy girls. Next time you appeared, you scanned the room questioningly, and your expression only relaxed when you found her again.

Wilhemina had never before in her life been someone else’s first priority. The idea that she was now, made her feel weird things she couldn’t quite comprehend. As if she were floating, or made of golden light as that of a summer evening. She could have burst into tears or bounced on her feet. Instead she returned your smile, and averted her eyes shyly.

Dear Lord, Wilhemina Venable didn’t get shy. What was wrong with her? She was being ridiculous and pathetic, and what’s worse, she was putting herself in danger. There were people in this room. People with eyes to see the soft pink of her cheeks and the nervous shaking of her hands. She should walk up to you, proud and threatening, tap her cane on the floor to scare you and then she should say something mean, something like “I love you” - no! she scolded herself, with a shiver of terror. Something mean! Something that would hurt! And she would say it loudly, she would make it boom and thunder for everyone in the room to hear and remember how strong and ruthless Wilhemina Venable was.

Here, you were waving at her again, with your face illuminated, and you were weaving your way to her through the crowd. Wilhemina tightened her grip on her cane and raised her chin and thought very hard of what she would say as you came closer and closer, you were here! right next to her, so very close she felt the air shaking and dancing in the joy your presence brought. A hand touching her wrist, warmth everywhere, she was melting into a puddle at your feet. You smirked knowingly at her and she felt herself blush, heart beating madly as you repeated what she had been too entranced to hear the first time: “Mina, I wanted to introduce you to my friend Anne.”

Mina! Her heart burst.

A breathless “Yes” was all she could manage to say.

God, she was pathetic. As more heat flooded her cheeks, as she noticed the amused, knowing expression on Anne’s face, something else rose in her. Something cold. Something all too familiar, that slid up her veins winding like a snake to beat up her heart. It left it bruised and crying.

Wilhemina raised her head and tried to swallow back the self-hatred. Like waves when the tide is coming in, it reached further.

You saw the change on her face and in her posture. You frowned, faltered a little under the sudden hardness in her eyes. As Anne characteristically started to ramble, you stubbornly held Wilhemina’s scowling gaze, and you wondered, as you had dozens of times before, how you could protect her from the blows when the blows were dealt by herself. How to cut open her chest and carefully remove the self-hatred. Put it in a box, throw away the key. And the sadness and the fear. Remove those, too.

Someone called for you, so you excused yourself and left Anne and Wilhemina together. The former set curious eyes on the latter and asked her questions in a cheerful, chiming voice. From behind her shields, Wilhemina spat out answers that soon weakened Anne’s enthusiasm. Anne refused to give up so soon, though. You had told her so much about Wilhemina, spoke of her with such light, such bright happiness in your voice and eyes that a few incivilities weren’t enough to send her away.

And Anne – Anne had been touched by you. She had been made sublime. Try as she might, Wilhemina couldn’t find ugliness in her features or clumsiness in her gestures. And Anne spoke of you with such kindness, in such high terms – when you came back, she let out a happy squeal and took your hand in hers.

Utter, complete idiot, Wilhemina tried to convince herself. Except Anne wasn’t an idiot. She too was aware of your supremacy. Wilhemina could see it, the way her eyes shone with admiration, the way she touched your arm and laughed too loudly at something you said.

Anne sat between Wilhemina and you on the couch as you people-watched and exchanged jokes and sipped your drinks. As minutes ticked by, Wilhemina felt herself slip into silence. Anne’s body next to hers was sending forth burning mockery that made her want to shrink back and curl in on herself. She sat with her back ramrod straight and her eyes glazed, fingers nervously playing with her empty glass, as thoughts she tried to silence nagged and mocked in her ears.

At one point, Anne stretched her body, arms curling up towards the ceiling and back arching elegantly, and Wilhemina had to look away to stop herself from throwing insults at her or bursting into tears – she didn’t know which would be more likely.

At 11:55, people started to sing excitedly. A young man grabbed Anne by the arm and led her into the kitchen. You stood up, and offered your hand to Wilhemina.

She hesitated one second, out of pride, before she slid her palm against yours. You laced your fingers with hers.

Those who were brave enough to stand in the cold had clustered on the balcony. You playful pushed a man to the side to request a place at the railing. The available space was small, so Wilhemina’s side was pressed against yours.

The city spread out below her was vibrating with happy expectation. She heard laughter, she heard joyful cries, she heard music. The cold breeze blew on her cheeks but the cold didn’t harm her. She was made of fire when your body was touching hers like that.

The streetlights went off, and an excited shiver ran through the city. You leaned in against the railing. Wilhemina turned her head to look at you.  

She watched, mesmerized, the fireworks in your eyes.

Your lips parted in silent admiration at the lights, and Wilhemina wondered whether anyone had ever looked as beautiful as you did in this moment. She doubted it. Jealously and selfishly she leaned closer to you to keep this secret treasure hidden from the rest of the world. You glanced at her, and your gaze lingered admiringly on her face before you shook yourself and focused your attention back on the fireworks show.  

When blue blended with red Wilhemina’s breath hitched, and something in her swelled like a wave. It was the genuine happiness on your face, the firmness of your body against hers; one more blue, one more red.

As the next fuse whizzed up the sky, Wilhemina breathed out, “I love you.”

Paw paw paw, mocked the lights. The noise swallowed her whisper.

“Y/N!” cried Anne, appearing out of nowhere with her eyes shining and her steps bouncing, “Y/N! New Year’s kiss!”

Wilhemina took a step away as Anne cupped your face and pressed a kiss on your lips which you, with a giggle, returned.

Red. Just red, this time.

Wilhemina watched the fireworks as they whizzed and exploded, her eyes glazed and her heart ice. She decided her heart was ice and she couldn’t feel anything anymore. Just a prickle - but as you broke the kiss, and Anne, with beauty, laughed, and captured your lips with hers again, the prickle became a blow that broke the ice.

A flower of gold bloomed in the sky and immediately died. Wilhemina looked at the golden dust as it floated downwards.

Something settled in her chest, something new that must have been lurking beneath the ice. It ached. Her fingers started to shake.

It was the finale, she hoped, looking at the fireworks, it couldn’t get worse. There were pink and green and yellow and gold. There were bruises in the sky, and smoke for the lights to choke on.

Like an automaton, Wilhemina turned and walked away from the balcony. She let her brain take over since her heart was dying and making her fingers shake.

In the living-room were people with their faces pressed against the windows, people kissing in corners and on the couch, one woman crying. No one noticed her as she walked past. No one saw her, except a little boy who curiously glanced her way, and immediately lowered his eyes with an awkward, nervous expression, to resume playing with his toy.

Wilhemina had almost reached the front door when her right ankle hit the corner of a coffee table. Pain shot up her leg, making her hiss. She made to bend down and press her palm against where it hurt, realized her eyes were filled with tears, vision swimming, objects and colors blending. Her grip on her cane was shaky and weak. She would sit down just for a second, she thought – Hell no, she scolded. She would push on, put on her coat, reach the door, open the door, and Lord in Heaven if she so much as showed the slightest limp she would, growled the hatred in her chest, the hatred biting everywhere, she would walk for miles in the dark till the pain in her back felt like agony, like molten metal pressed to her skin from within. Shoulders up, chin up, back straight. She forced herself to focus on the pain throbbing in her ankle. Her palm pressed against her chest.

Just as she was about to move again, a hand fell on her shoulder.  

“Where are you going, Mina?” you sang in her ear. Your breath tickled her skin and made her shiver. “You missed the last part of the show.”

Your hand gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. She could feel your touch, burning her through her clothes, spreading warmth from her shoulder to her toes. It set everything inside of her on fire, brought everything back to life and made her feel – she didn’t want to ache.

And yet – how addicting a feeling. She had never felt so alive, body and soul so violently vibrating with life and want.

“Is everything alright?”

You had walked around her to plant yourself between her and the door, scanning her face with a frown of worry deepening between your eyebrows.

From the living-room behind her rose voices. They broke into a song. Applause, laughter. Your eyes stayed on her.

“Do you want to leave?” you asked. Nervously you shifted your weight on your feet. There was guilt flickering in your eyes. “I can give you a lift, if you want.”

“I drove here,” Wilhemina heard herself say.

Your eyes flicked to her lips, before meeting her gaze again.

“I know,” you said with an awkward chuckle. “But if you’re too tired to drive, you know, or just would rather I drove you, I could – what I mean to say is, I really don’t mind. Or you could stay here,” you added quickly, eyes shining at the thought – it was just the light, Wilhemina told herself. Just the light. “There’s a spare room with clean sheets. If you’re too tired to drive.”

From far away, a firecracker exploded. Someone in the living room screamed excitedly.

“Did you like the show?” you asked.

“I don’t care about fireworks,” Wilhemina answered. She had meant to speak coldly, but the ice in her had melted under your touch and she was made of heat.

“You don’t? Is that why you didn’t stay to watch the end?”

More firecrackers. The sound reminded her of her defeat. More bruises in the sky, more green.

“I didn’t want to bother you and your… girl,” she heard herself say. Her throat closed up behind the words, as if in protest, refusing to let any more words out ever again if it was going to hurt like that.

“Oh,” you laughed, waving a hand to dispel the thought, “she’s not my girl. We’re both single and you know, a New Year’s kiss is always nice.” Your eyes smiled – but it was a sad smile. “And you know how it is. You rarely get to kiss the person you really want to kiss.”

You laughed, nervously, ran one hand through your hair. Your other hand was still on her shoulder, holding her as if you were afraid she would disappear. Your eyes fell to the floor as a blush bloomed in your cheeks – and then, you looked up again, and watched her with a new, curious expression Wilhemina had never seen before.

“Did you get your New Year’s kiss?” you asked.

Bold. There was boldness in your voice that scared her.

Wilhemina pressed the head of her cane to her stomach protectively, and tilted her chin up to look taller and stronger. She veiled her eyes, shielded her heart, built up her walls – to no avail.

Your face broke into a soft, sweet smile that was so loving, so incredibly fond, it reached the last dark corner in her.

“Oh, sweetness,” you breathed.

Sweetness! Before she could register what was happening, you had leaned in and pressed your lips against hers. And the world shattered.

She didn’t feel the kiss with her lips, but with her whole body, every inch of her tingling and melting and igniting all at the same time. The sweetness and the softness coursed through her and made her forget she had ever been cold, ever been hurt and hated. You rubbed your lips against hers, chaste and warm and dry. She couldn’t move, couldn’t think. All she could do was feel.

When you pulled away, there was something cheeky and victorious shining in your eyes. A laugh ran under your nose as you saw the completely stunned expression on Wilhemina’s face.

“Breathe,” you smiled, stroking your thumb over her lower lip.

Wilhemina closed her mouth and inhaled shakily through her nose. She couldn’t understand what had just happened. She tried to process it, but it didn’t make sense. She had turned away, walked away, and you had run after her, touched her shoulder, called her sweetness – you had called her sweetness! – like a balm to her heart, and then the tingles and the fire and the melting…  

“Breathe,” you repeated fondly.

“Did you just…?” Wilhemina whispered.

Your smile grew, sewn with warmth and affection. “Yes,” you whispered back, cupping her face in your hands and holding her gaze as she searched your eyes to try and make sense of it all.

Joy sparkled in the black of Wilhemina’s eyes when her mind finally caught on.

“Could you…” Her voice trailed off.

“Yes?” you breathed expectantly.

“…do it again,” Wilhemina breathed back.

You didn’t waste a second. Your mouth met hers again, bolder this time, desperate to taste and to love. A soft moan pushed up Wilhemina’s throat and wrapped around your tongue. She dropped her cane to clutch your collar, lost her balance. You wrapped one arm around her waist and pressed her against you for support.

“Someone’s quite eager,” you giggled against her lips.

She only whined and kissed you again.

And just as you were quite sure you would lose your head, just like you had lost your heart, her body tensed and her hands pressed on your shoulders to push you away.

You refused to let go of her waist, afraid she would fall without support and way too addicted to the feel of her already. Part of you had to be touching her, now and always and forever.

You met her eyes.

For a few moments Wilhemina only stared at you. And then to your utter dismay, her gaze hardened and her face closed up.

You searched her eyes worriedly, but it was like trying to see the ripples of the waves on the ocean’s surface at night under an overcast sky.

“Did it make you feel better about yourself?” Wilhemina spat – voice so cold, so very cold when she had been so warm pressed against you just a second ago.

“Excuse me?”

“Kissing the girl no one wants to kiss. How so very kind and heroic of you.”

She swallowed, blinked; a glimpse at the moon through a hole in the clouds.

“I do not want nor need your pity,” she snapped.

Your thumb started stroking her hip, to ground her, to call her back to you.

“I did not kiss you out of pity,” you said softly, with a reassuring smile. Wilhemina only glared. “I’m not playing with you, I promise. I’ve been wanting to kiss you for months.”

Wilhemina let out a disbelieving laugh. “Then why haven’t you?”

You leaned closer to her, and smiled again when you heard her breath hitch.

“Because you would have run away,” you whispered. One of your hands came up to cup her jaw and greet the warmth and softness of her again.

And just like that, the wind blew and dispersed all the clouds; and the full moon poured out its light on the ocean. And then you saw.

What you saw wasn’t the peaceful floating of stars on lazy waves. There was no white foam grazing sand with a gentle, sleepy sigh. What unfolded instead was a scene of terror. Half-drowned sailors clutching pieces of wood, corpses sinking, screams under the indifferent eye of the moon. And you on the shore, shivering, watching mesmerized and terrified the bodies thrown this way and that, the arms flailing and reaching out towards the sky.

You swallowed past the lump in your throat and gave Wilhemina a smile, so sweet, so tender – just for her? She felt herself tremble.

“You would have freaked out and pushed me away, wouldn’t you? A little like you’re doing right now.” Another smile, so full of adoration it pulverized every single one of her remaining defenses. “Except now,” you went on, voice getting lower to share a secret, “now you know what you want. Don’t you, sweetness?”

Yes, whispered Wilhemina’s heart. Instinctively she pushed the thought away, questioned it. Yes, her heart insisted.

“I love you,” was what she said.

The smile that you gave her lit up the night.

Had the world always been so bright? Had every single thing always been so beautiful? Wilhemina’s heart was bursting with so many emotions and above it all – love. Love was singing inside her. She was shining.

Tag list: @mssallymckenna @supremeinlilac @pluied-ete @rainbow-hedgehog @pearplate @angelxsarahp @paulawand @asktammyr @peggycarter-steverogers   @coconutlipss  @saucy-sapphic @thesupremewife @paulsonpills  @vintagepaulson @billiedeansbottom @lilypadscoven @winslctrg @simpforpaulson @venablesgirl @mckennamayfairgoode

[guardianofrivendell]

You’re My Home

Legolas x human!reader

Requested: Yes! Anon asked for prompts 6 and 25 from my 250 followers sleepover (which was ages ago, sorry for the delay!!).

Prompts: “Your hair is really soft” and “You should probably go home”/”I’m already home.”

Warnings: none, fluffiest fluffy fluff, Legolas declarating his love for you throughout the entire fic

A/N: Slowly working my way through my ask box!  Also Thranduil is reasonable in my fics, so he approves of his son courting a human. 

Legolas hurried through the corridors of his father’s palace, cursing himself for being so ignorant.  He passed numerous servants and nobles but didn’t stop to greet them as he probably should considering his title; too anxious to get to you.  

He should have known something was wrong. It wasn’t unusual for you to miss a meal since you had a habit of losing track of time, especially when you were painting. So he didn’t think much of it when you weren’t present at breakfast. When you also missed lunch, there weren’t any alarm bells ringing in his head.  He did make a mental note to visit you later that day, maybe sneak some food from the kitchens. Perks of being part of the royal family, he smiled to himself. But he still wasn’t worried.

How could he be so stupid?

It was only when the afternoon meeting with his father’s council was interrupted by one of the kingdom’s healers who rushed to Thranduil’s side, that Legolas started to suspect something was wrong.

The healer spoke a few hushed words to his father, but he heard them. You were sick, with a fever so high you were starting to get delirious. They were doing all they could to bring the fever down, but it didn’t seem to work. You were asking for Legolas, otherwise the healer wouldn’t have interrupted his King’s meeting, he apologized. His father casted a quick glance towards him, and Legolas was surprised to see a hint of worry in his eyes. Thranduil immediately dismissed his son from the meeting so he could go see his intended.

Legolas and you were courting, but it was all still very new. You obviously spend a lot of time together, but since you weren’t married yet you both lived in your own quarters. It wasn’t uncommon to only see each other at nightfall. He should have paid you a visit right after breakfast…

It was too late to beat himself up for it, he thought while he flew through the different hallways. But by the Valar, he had already screwed up and you weren’t even married yet.

He ran to the healing wing, but you weren’t there. One of the healers on duty told him you were being treated in your own room. Before he could finish his sentence, Legolas had already bolted out of the hall.

Upon reaching your living quarters, Legolas took a few breaths to calm his nerves. He knocked three times, tapping his foot anxiously while he waited for someone to open the door. He could’ve just barged in, but what if you weren’t decent? He was not risking it.

After what seemed like forever the door opened, and a healer assistant let him in. Legolas rushed into your chambers, straight to your bedroom but stopped dead in his tracks when he saw you.

You were lying in your bed covered in multiple blankets and furs. On your night stand there were several empty glasses and vials, plates with crushed herbs and a pitcher with water.

He slowly made his way towards you and took the chair where you had carelessly thrown your clothes on the night before, so he could sit next to your bed.

“We gave her something to calm down and hopefully lower the fever,” the assistant spoke up. “The healer will be back soon to check in on her, Hîr nîn.” (My Lord)

He thanked the elleth, and she left them to give them some privacy.

Legolas stared at your face for a moment, you looked peaceful with your eyes closed but he knew better. Every now and then a shiver went through your body, but your cheeks were flaming red from the fever.

“Oh nínim,” he sighed, stroking a few hairs of your forehead. (Snowdrop – (it’s a flower)) You opened your eyes and smiled weakly, turning your head towards him.

“Hey,” you croaked. “You’re here.”

He returned your smile and kissed your hair, his lips lingering a little longer than usual. “Of course. I only wish you had called for me sooner.”

“You had important meetings to attend.”

“Y/N, the only thing that is truly important is you. You matter more to me than anything else,” he said, his voice strained because how could you even think you weren’t important to him. He loved you more than he could ever express in words. He reached for your hand and wrapped his own hands around it, kissing your knuckles.

“I didn’t want you to worry,” you sighed and turned your head slightly, staring at the ceiling.

“Right, and getting my meeting interrupted by a panicked healer doesn’t make me worried at all,” he said, quirking an eyebrow. “You should’ve told me, nínim.”

“I will be fine by tomorrow, you’ll see. It’s just a cold or something, maybe the flu. I’ll survive.”

A healer came in to check on you shortly after, and gave you something to sleep.

Once your eyes were closed and your breathing evened out, he turned towards Legolas.

“This will hopefully bring down her fever as well, I’m not that experienced with humans I’m afraid. I’ve send a message to Lord Elrond for advice, just in case.”

Legolas thanked the healer and after he promised not to tire her out too much, he was allowed to stay. Not that they would ever forbid their own prince access to your room, they wouldn’t succeed anyway. Nothing could keep him away from you, if he had anything to do with it.

He kept a close eye on you while you slept.

You were officially courting for just a few weeks now, but Legolas was already hopelessly in love with you. What happened today only confirmed it. The mere thought he could lose you tore him apart. A few years ago, he never would have thought he could love someone so deeply, let alone a human. And yet here he was, completely at your mercy.

He stayed by your side for the next two days.

The healers and assistants visited regularly, bringing your medicines and checking your temperature. On the second day, Thranduil had even come by for a short visit to see how you were doing.

Luckily, the potions they gave you seemed to work, your temperature was slowly turning back to normal.

You woke up every now and then, but not longer than a few minutes before another potion made you doze off again. During those little minutes, Legolas made sure to tell you how much he loved you and that he would stay with you, no matter what.

One of the assistant healers had told you probably wouldn’t remember what he said because of the many potions you were taking, but Legolas didn’t care.

During the fourth day, he finally gave in to his own fatigue and fell asleep in his chair; his head and arms on your bed, your hand still clasped firmly in his own.

When he woke up, he felt someone stroking his hair.

His head shot up and he glanced your way, only to stare into your bright (Y/E/C) eyes.

“Your hair is really soft,” you smile. “You have to tell me your secret.”

“Y/N!” he gasped. “Nínim, you’re awake! How are you feeling?”

His hands flew towards your forehead and cheeks, to check your temperature. You felt cooler than the previous days and he sighed in relief.

“Better,” you smiled, and right that moment your stomach decided to growl loudly. “And hungry.”

Legolas chuckled. “I’m glad to hear. I’ll send someone to the kitchens for some soup and I’ll let the healers know you’re awake.”

Before he could leave the room, one of the healers entered. He was happy to see you were awake and doing better. You were allowed to eat some light food and drink lots of water, but you needed to stay in bed for at least one more day.

When the healer left, you made room in the bed for Legolas.

He gladly accepted your invitation, and took you in his arms, your head on his chest.

“Have you been here the entire time?”

He nodded, and kissed your lips softly. “I guess you should probably go home then,” you pouted, reluctant to let him go.

“Nínim nîn, I’m already home… as long as I’m with you.”