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divine-knight-hand · 10 months

Text

Now, You’re Mine

Loki Masterlist || Full Masterlist || Read on AO3

Pairing: Loki x Female Reader

Summary: A competitive sparring session leads to spicy times with Loki.

Content Warnings: Little bits of fluff, Loki does a fair amount of mind reading, Soft Dom!Loki, Sub!Reader, oral (f. receiving), p in v (missionary), unprotected sex, a touch of cockwarming, and explicit consent

Notes: I originally wrote this for sarahscribbles’s Birthday Celebration before I went in a completely different direction and decided to write and contribute Worshiping the Masterpiece instead. Even though this didn’t end up as my official contribution, I figured I’d still finish it and post it for you all.

It was honestly a little daunting. This was definitely a difficult write for me, and there were times where I thought I wouldn’t finish it. Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy what I came up with!

Since this was originally for the Birthday Celebration, I had used some of the listed prompts for this work. The prompt that sparked the writing of this was "Is that a threat or a promise?", but I also snuck in the fluff prompt “Are you really so oblivious?”. What can I say? I’m an overachiever in all things where writing is concerned. Hehehe!

Word Count: 3,781

Dividers by @cafekitsune

“Umph!” With a flick of his wrist, Loki sent me tumbling to the floor once again.

Once every week, Loki and I sparred in the training room of the tower so I could practice fighting more powerful opponents. I figured that I would eventually sharpen my skills and prove useful on more intense missions. Unfortunately, I typically did more falling on my own ass than actual sparring, so I haven’t improved much since we first started.

Against my better judgment, I slammed my fists on the padded floor. “Son of a bitch!”

“Is that frustration I sense, agent?” Loki stood across the room from me, clearly entertained by my lack of temper. He didn’t even break a sweat, seeing as he barely had to move a muscle to defeat me. He just stood there, folding his arms behind his back as the corner of his mouth twitched upward in amusement.

I heavily sighed and slowly rose back to my feet. “No, no. I’m fine.” I dusted off my behind as I returned to where I stood right before getting knocked off my feet. “Let’s just start from the beginning… again.”

“How do you not tire of repeatedly falling before me?” He began to close the gap between us in large strides. “Though I find it rather amusing, I can’t help but wonder why you remain so persistent in the face of failure.” He stopped a few feet away from me. Too close and too far at the same time.

I scoffed. “You can condescend to me all you like, but I don’t plan on quitting until I at least manage to reach you.”

That was when it hit me. I hadn’t given much thought to my battle plan. I haven’t had the time before being thrown off balance every time. What exactly would I have done if I managed to reach him? How could I best someone who towered over me, even as I stood upright? Would I sweep him off his feet? Would I aim an attack at his perfectly chiseled face to disorient him? Would I wrap my arms around him and fall into the feel of his body against mine, desperate to never let go? Or would I just be too drunk on the air around him to even make it all the way, stuck in the stupor of my own attraction?

Get a grip! I chided myself. This is Loki, you’re thinking about! Do you honestly think he would feel the same way about you? He’s a god, for crying out loud! But I knew that. I was drawn to the danger of that feeling like a moth to a flame. There was nothing sensical about the way I felt for him, but regardless of how risky my feelings were for him, I would indulge in them.

“Condescend to you?” Loki held a hand over his heart in a show of mock hurt. “I would never. Honestly, the way you fell to the floor just now was truly remarkable. The Avengers are lucky to have you.”

“Ha. Ha. Ha.” I enunciated each dry laugh. “Very funny. Now, are we talking or training?”

Loki was unmoving, instead staring at me with an intensity that made me wonder if he could see straight through me. “You seem eager to return to our little session. Why is that?”

Wow! He’s intuitive. I thought, anxiety buzzing under my skin. But there’s no way I can answer that.

And why not? I jumped at the sound of Loki’s voice in my mind.

Too surprised to muster my own voice to speak, I formed the words in my mind. Loki? Are you in my head right now?

No, agent. I could hear him chuckle aloud as he responded. I’m right in front of you.

I physically shuddered. That is so creepy…

It’s natural to fear what you don’t understand. He raised his eyebrows at me.

“Can you cut that out?” I finally spoke up, shaking my head as if I could shake him out. “I don’t appreciate these mind games.” Nor did I appreciate the possibility that he could have heard me mentally rambling about how he truly made me feel. The thought of him having access to the secret I worked so hard to keep from him made me nauseous, so I focused on the part of me that was annoyed.

“I appear to have struck a nerve.” Loki commented matter-of-factly. “How odd. That wasn’t even my intention.”

Damnit! I thought. Why is he so good at pissing me off?

I appreciate your acknowledgment of my prowess, agent. Loki’s voice sounded in my head again. But, as I’ve said, my goal isn’t to infuriate you. I’m truly curious as to why you’re so passionate about our sessions.

“Ugh!” I threw my hands in the air. “Fine, we don’t have to spar if you’re going to ask a million questions. Just forget it. I’m done.” I turned away and began to storm off, eager to get away from the situation, and pausing only to call back, “And stop doing that talking-to-me-in-my-mind thing! It’s extremely invasive!” before continuing away.

I only took a few more steps before freezing again at the sound of Loki’s voice. “What exactly are you chasing, agent?”

Even as I faced away, standing across the room from him, I felt cornered. “What do you mean?”

“Our weekly arrangement seems to matter to you so much.” He began again. “Anyone would walk away in utter surrender after being so easily defeated the first few times. You differ. There’s a spark in your eye, and though it flickers and threatens to fade, it doesn’t extinguish. Why is that? What are you seeking to gain from facing off with me every week? What are you chasing?”

That was it. I had nowhere to run. I was completely vulnerable. I couldn’t get out of this situation without at least explaining myself to him. I just wouldn’t reveal too much.

I turned back to him, giving myself time to steel my nerves before responding. “My potential.” He cocked his head in curiosity, prompting me to continue. “Lately at work I felt… stuck.” I slowly began to make my way back over to him. “I know I can still improve, so I figured that sparring with you would make me stronger. But, now I just feel stuck fighting with you. I mean, I couldn’t even land a single hit on you. At all. I couldn’t even reach you!”

I stopped a few feet away from him and looked down at my feet in shame. “So, yes, I am a little frustrated that I’m not improving. I can’t help but feel like I’m on my way to being a failure.”

I suddenly saw a familiar pair of leather boots settle in front of my tattered sneakers before Loki tilted my chin up to face him. “I’ll hear none of that. You are not a failure. Far from it.”

My heart leapt up to my throat. Our faces were mere inches apart. Loki’s bright blue eyes kept mine glued to them like those of a hypnotizing serpent. I could almost feel our breaths intermingle between our mouths. His raven hair fell forward ever so slightly to frame his angular face as he tilted it down to focus on mine. For the first time, I saw Loki wear an expression of concern, and it was for me.

When I didn’t immediately respond, he continued, “You are more formidable than you know, agent. I never anticipated your persistence to be so drawn out, but as long as you believe you can grow, then it shall be. I will admit, I haven’t been very fair to your pursuits. Do forgive my hindering of your goals. I simply didn’t wish to let you go once you felt satisfied with what resulted from our sessions.”

My voice wavered more than I would have liked it to. “I- I don’t understand…”

“The only reason you felt stuck here was simply because I made it so.” Loki explained. “I knew that once you received the training you were working toward, you wouldn’t require my assistance anymore.”

“So, you weren’t just trying to make me look stupid?” I was genuinely surprised, especially considering the smile that graced his lips each time I hit the floor. I thought he enjoyed seeing me make a fool out of myself. I didn’t exactly hate the idea, either, if it meant I got the chance to see him smile down at me.

“Gods no!” His lips slowly spread into a grin. “Although seeing that little vein in your temple pop each time you grew agitated was quite amusing, that wasn’t my intention at all.”

“Jerk.” I breathlessly laughed, still struggling to keep my composure. I gulped, feeling his hand still on my chin. Sparks ignited under my skin where he touched me. I wanted him more and more with each passing second.

“I simply couldn’t resist.” Loki chuckled. “There’s something rather endearing within your vexation.”

“Ha. Ha. Ha.” I dryly laughed again. “But, besides you enjoying my annoyance… Why did you want me around so much? You put in a lot of effort just to keep me here.”

His voice lowered as his gaze grew intense. “Are you really so oblivious?”

My breath hitched as he seemed to grow closer to me, despite having not moved an inch. “I- I- I-”

“Darling,” He cut off my useless stuttering. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to ensure you remain by my side. Your presence is invaluable to me.”

Is this really happening? I felt myself growing redder by the second. I couldn’t believe it. Was this Loki’s way of telling me that he loved me?

Curiosity got the better of me, and I decided that making my own confession would help me know for sure. “Loki… I feel the same way. That’s why I asked you specifically for help. I did really want help, but I also wanted to see you more often. Work doesn’t really let us cross paths as much as it used to. Now that I know what it’s like to exist with you, I can’t imagine a life without you.”

His lip twitched up into another smile. “I’m glad we can agree.”

Then, he leaned in and kissed me. It was a short and sweet kiss, but once I wrapped my arms around the back of his neck, he deepened the kiss, slipping his dexterous tongue into my eager mouth. Oh my god! Pinch me, I must be dreaming.

No, darling. Loki’s voice sounded in my mind, and I happily welcomed it this time. This is as real as you are.

I felt my stomach flutter with excitement. This was real! I loved him and he loved me. I was so excited, I gained enough confidence to slide my hands into his hair, holding his face to mine. I felt that if he let me go, I would have nothing left to anchor my soul to my body. I willed our kiss to last as long as possible.

When we finally broke for air, I breathlessly giggled. “I guess it’s safe to say we don’t need to spar to spend time with each other anymore.”

“Oh, my darling pet.” He purred, sending a tremor down my spine. “I don’t need a training session to indulge in the luxury of seeing you fall before me.”

I instantly felt arousal pooling between my thighs at his comment. “Is that a threat or a promise?”

“It’s a guarantee.” He growled before effortlessly sweeping me off my feet—no magic required—and speeding out of the training room with me in his arms. I lightly giggled all the way, allowing myself to fall into in the feel of his touch and the mischievous glint in his eyes.

══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══

We practically crashed through the door of his bedroom as we were locked in a mess of kissing and touching. We stumbled into the room as Loki just barely managed to slam the door behind him. He finally pulled me away from him and tossed me onto his bed. I fell onto my back with a very unflattering “Umph!” before propping myself up on my forearms to look back at him.

“There you are.” His mouth curved up into a sly smirk. “Fallen before me, just as I knew you would be.” I felt the beating of my heart quicken at his words.

There was something new about the look in his eyes. Something ravenous. His hair was ruffled from the way I ran my hands in it as we kissed, and his pupils were blown with lust, just barely rimmed by the usual electric blue color of his eyes.

“I must have you now.” His voice grew husky as he spoke to me. “Are you willing to give yourself to me tonight?”

“Loki,” My words were just barely over a whisper. “I’m willing to give myself to you, always.”

Then, a charged silence hung between us, and I felt Loki’s eyes possessively scour over my body. My skin was aflame and I felt my panties growing wet with my dripping arousal as the time passed.

I silently looked him over as well, my eyes trailing down his sharp cheekbones and jawline, and the leather draped over his towering frame, before freezing at the monstrous bulge forming between his legs. I mindlessly spread my own at the sight of it.

“You look absolutely ravishing, darling.” He finally broke the silence. “I can tell you hunger for me the same way I do for you. Let’s not waste another minute, hm?”

“Yes,” I breathlessly whispered. “Please.”

“Begging already?” Loki’s mouth cracked into a mischievous grin. “I’ve barely touched you, my dear.” He let out a low playful chuckle before he leaned in to push me back down onto his bed.

We kissed again, and even as my eyes were closed, I could see the green flash of Loki’s seidr before I felt a fresh draft over my body. He pulled away, and I opened my eyes to see that he was equally bare. My breath hitched as my eyes traveled down his body, taking in each inch of his beautifully toned figure. Between us, hung his large, throbbing cock. I wanted to reach out and trace each bulging vein with my fingers.

I let out the breath I forgot I was holding as my gaze returned to Loki’s eyes. “You’re gorgeous.”

“Oh, darling~” Loki purred before trailing kisses down my neck and breasts.

“Mmm, Loki,” I sighed. “I want you so badly.”

He settled between my legs with a devilish grin, propping them up on his shoulders. “Oh, how it excites me to hear you say that.” He began trailing kisses up my inner thigh. “You’re already so wet for me… Mmm, I can’t wait to taste you.” He lightly nipped my inner thigh, eliciting a small yelp from me before teasing his tongue at my entrance. “How divine~” His last words were a soft whisper against my cunt. I almost didn’t hear them. Almost.

I let out a soft moan as Loki continued to tease me. “Mmm, Loki… Please… More…”

“More?” He playfully tutted. “We’re needy tonight, aren’t we?”

“Only for you~” I mewled.

A deep growl rumbled from the back of his throat. “It would do you well to remember that.”

He licked an agonizingly slow stripe up my dripping cunt before deepening the work of his tongue, adding his fingers to circle my clit as he did.

“Ah- Loki! Mmm…” My back arched, and I resisted the urge to grind against the friction he was giving me. “Yes- Ohhh, that feels so good…” The transition from a little stimulation to a lot almost made me dizzy. I could have gotten drunk on that feeling.

Loki just hummed in satisfaction as he tightly gripped my hip with his free hand. I knew his fingers would bruise my skin, but I didn’t care. I was focused on the pressure mounting in my core, and how rapidly I was hurtling towards my peak. Bruises and body aches would be a tomorrow problem.

I gripped the sheets beneath me, trying to find something to anchor me to the moment as my quickly approaching finish threatened to carry me away from this plane of existence. As it would turn out, my anchor wasn’t the feel of the sheets between my fingers. It was the sight of Loki’s head bobbing between my thighs as he greedily ate me out, accompanied by the lewd slurping sounds that emanated from the act.

“Loki…” I all but squeaked. “Getting- Ah! C- close…”

He gave my hip an affectionate squeeze, keeping his pace on my aching cunt. Just a moment later, my eyes rolled back, and I came with a moan that nearly rattled the bedroom walls.

Loki slowed, but never stopped, helping me ride out my high before finally coming up to wipe his face on the back of his hand. My legs tingled as they slid off of his shoulders, and I could barely feel them as he climbed back to face-level with me.

“I’ve waited so long for this moment, pet.” He lifted a hand to cup my cheek as he kissed me, and I could taste myself on his tongue. While we kissed, he dragged the length of his throbbing cock between my folds.

When we broke for air, a string of saliva momentarily connecting our mouths, I was left panting. “Loki, please, I need you inside me.”

“Is that so?” He began to slowly stroke his length as he lined himself up with my entrance. “Tell me how much you need me. I want to hear it from you.”

“Loki, I-” I instinctively bucked my hips, desperate for more friction, as his tip teased my folds. “Please… Please, I need you so much. Ah- I’ve been dying for you!”

He pulled me into another kiss, our mouths crashing together as he finally began to slide inside. We moaned into each other’s mouths, and my hands found their way to his back. When I bucked my hips, he tightly gripped them, stopping me from rushing into bottoming out.

I was wet enough for him to slide in easily, but the excruciatingly slow pace he took nearly brought me to tears of frustration. He finally bottomed out, and I felt my walls clench around him as the full sensation registered in my core.

He pulled away from our kiss, cheeks glowing pink under a light sheen of sweat. “Mmm, you take me so well.” I felt my cheeks lightly blush at his praise. “Are you ready, love?”

“More than ready.” I breathed. I wasn’t sure how I was managing to speak as pleasure seemed to be slowly taking over each of my senses.

Loki buried his face in my neck, softly groaning as he began to trail kisses down my neck. “You are more formidable than you know, agent.” He sucked on the sweet spot on my neck, leaving another mark on my body before continuing. “You managed to penetrate the innermost walls of a god’s heart.” His voice was laced with both the most innocent love and filthy seduction. “Now, I shall never have my fill of you, but I will always return to you for more.”

He slowly slid out of me, leaving just the tip of his cock inside of me before ramming his hips back into mine, setting a brutal pace. I let out a loud moan, my voice clipping with each snap of his hips as my back arched off of the bed.

In response to his beautiful declaration, I could only manage to speak one word. “Pr- Promise?”

Loki dragged his warm tongue up my face, stopping by my ear to murmur. “I guarantee it.” The brush of his lips against my ear sent a shiver down my spine, adding to the immense amounts of pleasure I was experiencing.

I squeezed my eyes shut and raked my fingernails down his back, earning a deep growl from the god on top of me.

“How could you be the death of me- Mmm… and my whole life- Ah- at the same time?” I hesitantly opened my eyes to see Loki’s wildly looking into mine.

His hair dropped to surround both of our faces in dark curtains. Loki was all I could see, all I could smell, and all I could feel. The fire burning under my skin served, not as a distraction, but a reminder of the sensations he was able to create in me. As his calculated thrusts grew just the littlest bit sloppy, I could tell he was getting close, and that fact only brought me to my own peak faster.

“Loki…” I whimpered, struggling to voice my warning.

“I know, darling.” He breathed. “Let go. I’ve got you.”

Suddenly, I was seeing white as Loki helped me ride out my second orgasm of the night. As the waves of pleasure coursed through me, I was faintly aware of his cock twitching as its seed spilled inside me. We both let out moans that bordered on screams before coming down from our shared high.

As we both took a moment to catch our breaths, I wrapped my arms around Loki, holding his body against mine. I could feel him still inside me, our combined spent slowly dripping out, and I didn’t want him to move just yet.

“Mmm, darling…” Loki hummed as he buried his face in my neck. “You’re truly remarkable.”

I breathlessly chuckled. “You flatter me with that silver tongue of yours.”

“Really?” I felt Loki’s impish smile as it formed against my neck. “I seem to recall doing something else with it merely moments ago.”

“Alright, alright.” I couldn’t help smiling at his filthy comment. “I’ll give you that one.”

“Allow me to clean you up.” He offered.

Before I could form the words to protest anything that involved me having to move apart from him, he waved his hand, and his seidr once again bathed us in green light.

Rather than the sweat we worked up in bed, we smelled like fresh lavender soap. Though Loki’s cock was still inside me, I no longer felt our cum dripping out.

“Wow,” I reached up and gave his head an appreciative scratch. “You’re just full of surprises.”

Loki just hummed in content, softly kissing my neck until I found it difficult to keep my eyes open. Just before I fell to the lull of sleep, I heard his voice, low and sultry, in my mind.

Now, you’re mine.

#loki laufeyson #smut #marvel #marvel fanfic #loki fanfic #loki #loki x reader #loki x y/n #loki x female reader smut #marvel smut #loki mcu #mcu loki #mcu fanfiction #loki fic #loki smut #loki fanfiction #loki odinson #smut fanfiction #fem reader

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blouisparadise · 9 months

Text

Upon request, today we have the fourth part to our enemies to lovers rec list! You can also find part one here, part two here, and part three here. If you enjoy our rec lists and would like us to continue making them, please be sure to like and reblog this post to help spread the word! Happy reading.

1) Say My Name And Everything Just Stops | Explicit | 5,089 words

Harry and Louis are enemies and their friends leave them behind on a camping trip to sort out their differences. In a short amount of time, they do.

2) It’s Hard To Fight Naked | Explicit | 11,189 words

Prompt 6: Louis and Harry are roommates, but they cannot stand each other. When Harry heard Louis moan his name while Louis was riding a dildo in Harry’s room (Louis thought he was alone at home), Harry couldn’t stop himself and so he ended up fucking Louis against the mattress. Happy ending!

3) Works Like A Charm | Explicit | 18,088 words

Ever since Louis joined the team in fifth year, a few facts have become set in stone. One: Louis is the best chaser in Hogwarts. Two: Harry is the best beater in Hogwarts. Three: They do not get along. So it’s really unfair of Liam to think that forcing them to spend time together as Louis recovers from his injury will make them the best of friends. The last thing Louis would do is get along with that git.

4) Uncomfortable Truths | Explicit | 18,125 words

Louis (a sophisticated asshole with a god complex, according to Zayn) is confident, bored out of his mind and in a desperate need of a challenge. Harry moves back to the city, ready to provide him one. Things go sideways. Obviously.

5) Angel Of Small Death And The Murder Scene | Explicit | 20,634 words

Ever since Louis read about the new up and coming Detective in town, he had immediately disliked the man, despite never having met him. So, naturally, it can only be the worst thing that could have happened to Louis when he gets stuck with Detective Styles trying to solve a murder during his supposed to be relaxing vacation over the seas.

6) Manners And Misjudgements | Explicit | 21,178 words

“Everyone you mention the Duke to raves about him, just like you are defending him now. But no one looks behind the façade he so ably maintains to deceive you all.” Liam sighs deeply. “You sound like a crazy man right now, Louis.” “I will prove to you who the Duke really is, just wait.”

7) Help Me, Help You Find Love | Explicit | 23,789 words

The one where they all attend a university for supernaturals and Werewolf Frat president and resident heartthrob Harry approaches on campus matchmaker Louis to help him find love.

8) Strong Enough To Get Us Wrong | Explicit | 24,289 words

Omega Louis have always considered the soulmate etching on his left thigh to be a curse. It takes a world tour, the bustling city of Tokyo, a hike to see Mt. Fuji, some hidden feelings, sea urchin sushi and the alpha he hates most in the world to change him.

9) Like It’s A Game | Explicit | 32,223 words | Sequel

There is little Harry hates more than truth or dare. And Louis.

10) Spoonful Of Sugar | Explicit | 42,900 words

Note: We'd recommend reading the prequel to this fic first.

Louis Tomlinson cares for his family above all else, a fact that’s led him on a twisted path peddling drugs to support them. Just as he’s made the decision to jump ship, Louis gets snared between the two largest crime syndicates in the city. To keep his family safe he’s forced to trust the man that failed to keep his promise two years ago, the resident drug lord he’s unknowingly been working for, Harry Styles.

11) From Dust To Lust | Explicit | 45,437 words

From the moment Louis set eyes on the gorgeous stranger across the airport terminal, he knew the guy was trouble, which was the last thing he wanted. He wouldn’t have thought spending two days cooped up in a car travelling from the Australian Outback to the East Coast would change his mind. It’s funny how things work out.

12) Catch Me If I Fall | Explicit | 47,099 words

Lovers when on the stage but bitter rivals as soon as they step off, Harry and Louis have butted heads from the moment they first met. Locked in a stalemate that they hope to ride out until graduation, things take a turn when Harry learns that Louis is hiding a secret.

13) Hold Me How the Deep Night Has | Explicit | 48,018 words

Louis Tomlinson needs a change. Stuck in a cycle of going to the job he hates, spending time with his friends, and avoiding the one man he hates most in this world, Louis' in desperate need of something new. So when he discovers an abandoned notebook on the way to work, the decision is easy to take it for himself and begin a journal amidst the empty pages. What can't be expected are the words that appear overnight directly beside his own, written on the same day 400 years in the past. What are the consequences of a magical connection between two men of different centuries? And who, among it all, is the mysterious E who only exists on the other side of Louis' journal?

14) Falling Without Caution | Explicit | 50,350 words

Louis Tomlinson, a wanted criminal, was captured by the FBI after years of chasing. Instead of being locked up in a high-security prison, he was offered a deal. What was supposed to be the end of a decade long chase turned into a morally grey circumstance for Agent Styles.

15) A Place With Skeletons | Explicit | 50,765 words

“I would choose anyone other than you,” Louis says, picking up his train of thought again. He feels a lot more cornered and defensive when they’re in Harry’s house, for some reason. It doesn’t really make sense, considering that this time, Louis was the one who couldn’t hack it any longer. He broke first. There’s something about being in Harry’s space, though, the green and earthy feeling of it. It should feel like open space with all the plants, but Louis has never felt more claustrophobic than he does when he’s here. Harry’s chest moves against his back, a sharp intake of air. Before he can open his mouth to defend himself, Louis keeps going, “If I had a choice in any of this, I would have been saved by that elderly security guard over you. I wouldn’t mind having to have the occasional cuddle with her.”

16) We Are But Dust and Shadows | Explicit | 51,468 words

Louis is part of a well respected Shadowhunter family, and Harry is the Mundane turned Shadowhunter who just can’t seem to get it right.

17) Lunar Waltz | Explicit | 56,795 words

Louis has to replace his (missing) twin brother and marry one of the most dangerous alphas of the kingdom.

18) The Luna of Which Pack? | Mature | 72,696 words

When Harry's wolves accidentally kidnap the intended Luna of Simon Cowell's pack, he must decide what to do with the irritating omega that does not want to return home. With the elders disagreeing with the new ‘naive’ pack alpha Styles, a war erupts due to his opposed decisions. And Louis finds himself right in the middle of it.

19) Echoes & Omens | Mature | 100,707 words

Echoes of the dead come in many forms. Their imprints forever tied to the ones who'd killed them. Louis Tomlinson is able to track the dead using their echoes, they call to him. He's used that gift to aid Scotland Yard in their investigations, with the hopes of studying Criminology at Cambridge University. He's lived a life of privilege and good fortune as a Marquess, son of the late Duke Tomlinson, with his life mapped out since day one. Until two terrible truths are revealed. One, he's adopted. Two, his biological parents are London's most notorious serial killers. Against his family's wishes, Louis travels to Chicago to uncover the truth of their incarceration. Much to his dismay, his biological mother's Lawyer, Harry Styles, wants to take his case. Together, they work to uncover what really happened all those years ago, but perhaps more is revealed than they could've ever anticipated. Trapped in a whirlwind of portents and omens, Louis and Harry find themselves pitted against an enemy they'd not foreseen.

20) Where I Burn To Be | Explicit | 143,346 words

There were very few people who managed to get under Louis’ skin as effortlessly as Harry had, and even fewer who had done it in only a day and a half. It was quite an accomplishment, really. They’d only interacted a handful of times and yet Louis had the insatiable desire to slam the locker into that frustratingly well-defined face that never seemed to hold any expressions other than contempt and arrogance. “That’s right. I do own the skies. And you wanna know why?” he sneered. Without his boots on, Louis was a fair bit shorter than Harry, his eyes pretty much level with Harry’s chin and his socked toes bumping into the boots of the other man, close enough that Louis could make out the tiny scar on Harry’s brow and the individual shades of emerald in his irises. He was handsome, but that only made Louis hate him more. Heart thumping heavily against his sternum and his hands balled into fists, Louis lifted his chin defiantly and plastered a coldhearted smirk across his lips. “Because I’m the best goddamn pilot here.”

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

#fic recs #bottom louis #top harry #blp #blp fic recs #enemies to lovers #larry stylinson #larry

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callsign-joyride · 10 months

Note

Could I request prompts 9 and 13 with Javier for Summer of Smut please?

Object of My Desire | Javier Peña

Summary: Being forced to share a room with Javier while traveling was less than ideal. It was even more of a nuissance when you had to share a bed.

Content warnings: SMUT (18+), oral (f receiving), protected p in v

Prompts: “Stop wiggling around, I’m trying to sleep! Wait… what’s tha… oh!” + “I know you said no marks… But what if I put them where nobody except for me will see them?”

Author's note: This is my first time writing for Javier. I made some changes to my taglist form but I will still be tagging people from my TGM part of the taglist. If you don't want to be tagged in my Javier stuff, let me know.

This was written for my Summer of Smut writing event. Feel free to send in requests!

Taglist form (Google form, email is not asked)

You fucking hated traveling with Javier Peña. Aside from the fact that he was generally annoying to be around, he liked to backseat everything that he wasn’t in charge of. You wanted to travel alone but Steve wouldn’t allow it, saying that it’d be “too dangerous” even though you had the same training and experience. Needless to say, you were almost at the end of your fuse when the plane landed. You wanted to sleep on the plane but Javi wouldn’t shut up about how horrible the pilot was. (You didn’t even think he knew how to fly a plane, anyways.) When you tried to read your book, he still wouldn’t stop complaining about everything and a baby started crying. There was a moment of relief as you checked into the hotel for the night.

“You got lucky tonight, miss. This is our last room available,” the lady at the front desk said. You smiled and took the room keys, handing one to Javi and making your way to the elevator with your bag. Javi ended up being in front of you as you walked to the room, so he was the first one. He opened the door to the room and laughed, and you knew that couldn’t have been a good sign.

“Get out of the way. I wanna see what’s so funny,” you said as you shoved him and blindly walked into the room.

There was only one bed. Of course there was. The receptionist never clarified that. She probably thought that you and Javi were a couple.

“Give me that phone book. I’m calling other hotels,” you said as you sat on the bed.

“I’m sure they’re all booked out, too. Plus do you really think the government is gonna pay for you to get a room by yourself?”

“You’re an insufferable asshole. I’m not sleeping with you. I’ll pay for a room myself if that’s what it takes.”

“Fine. Have fun trying to look for hotels. I’ll be right here if you need anything,” he said as he laid on the bed and started reading his book. He was trying not to laugh as you sounded angrier by the minute. You put the phone on the receiver for the last time and glared at him.

“Well, I just called every hotel within a ten mile radius and they’re all booked out. Congratulations on being right, I guess.”

You started to unpack your things while Javi flipped through the channels on the TV. Most restaurants were closed when you checked in to the hotel, but Javi offered to go and get some tacos from one of the food trucks in the area. It took a few minutes of arguing for him to finally leave on his own. You laid on the bed with the phone and the receiver on your chest, dialing Steve and Connie’s number, hoping that someone would pick up. Connie picked up and, even though you loved talking to her, you were more focused on yelling at Steve.

“Can you put your husband on the phone? I’m gonna kill him,” you said. She chuckled and you heard some mumbling before Steve’s voice was in your ear.

“How was the trip?” He asked.

“Murphy, you’re fucking dead. First of all, Peña likes to think that he can control everything. He wouldn’t shut up on the plane about how ‘it’s not how you’re supposed to fly’. Does he even know how to fly a plane? And then we get to the hotel and the receptionist tells us that it’s the last room available. There’s only one bed in this hell hole. I spent thirty minutes calling every hotel within a ten mile radius and they were all booked, too.”

You rolled your eyes as Steve laughed on the other end of the phone.

“Wait a minute, did you plan this?” You asked.

“What if I did? Give him a chance. He’s not as bad once you get to know him.”

“I think he is. You didn’t have to suffer on a six hour flight with him next to you, babbling about how horrible it is that things aren’t going his way. Guys like him are why I like to do all of my work alone. He might be on his way back. I might kill someone.”

Steve chuckled.

“You’re not gonna kill anyone. Have fun. I’ll see you in a couple days, okay?”

“Yeah, whatever.”

Javi came back with tacos and you quickly ate before getting your pajamas and heading for the shower. He had his eyes on you as you opened the door to the bathroom to let the cool air in while you brushed your teeth.

“Those are your pajamas?” He asked as he gestured to the tank top and shorts that you were wearing. You spit your toothpaste into the sinking and rinsed off your toothbrush, leaving it on the counter.

“Yeah. I didn’t think it’d be a problem. This is what I always sleep in,” you said.

“You might as well not be wearing pants, princesa.”

It was going to be a miracle if both of you walked out of the room in the morning with both of your lives intact at this point.

“Don’t be a pig, Peña.”

You decided to read the book that you brought until you were going to fall asleep. Javi got up and brushed his teeth and took his clothes off at some point, but you were too invested in your book to notice.

“What are you reading, anyways?” He asked. You showed him the cover of the book while you were still reading.

“A western? Are you serious?”

You sighed and put the book down.

“I bought it at the airport because I knew I’d need something to do.”

“You didn’t get a classic like Frankenstein or Pride and Prejudice?”

“I can’t believe you just put those in the same sentence. And no, I didn’t, because I wanted something that would actually keep me entertained. Look at where that got me. I couldn’t sleep or read on the plane so, if you don’t mind, I’m gonna turn my light off and go to bed. I hope you do the same. At least you’ll be quiet.”

“Ouch.”

Javi turned off his lamp and wrapped his arms around you once he got in the bed. You didn’t object. It felt nice to be held by someone. But you couldn’t get to sleep because he wouldn’t stop wiggling around.

“Will you stop wiggling around? I’m trying to sleep. What’s - oh.”

Now that you had drawn attention to it, you were both aware that Javi was turned on. You could feel his length press up against your ass but you weren’t sure if you wanted to do anything about it. You were almost positive that you’d scoot away from him and act like it never happened, but it seemed like Javi had other things in mind as he turned you in his arms so that you were facing him. He took your hand in his and guided it to the bulge in his boxers. The primal urge to kiss him took over and you pulled him in by the hair on the back of his neck. The kiss was a battle of tongues and teeth as he slid your shorts and panties down your legs. He shoved his boxers down and rested his cock against the inside of your thigh.

“So wet for me,” he said as he rubbed his fingers between your folds. He started to kiss your neck and you winced and yanked his head away as he started to suck on your sweet spot.

“You can’t leave marks. We gotta work, y’know?”

He sighed, “alright.”

He lifted your leg onto his shoulder and left kisses down your chest. You let out a shaky breath as he was level with your glistening cunt. His mouth was on you in an instant and you would’ve been lying if you said it didn’t feel good. He looked into your eyes while he ate your pussy like a starved man and you started moving your hips with the rhythm of his tongue. Your thighs tightened around his head as you came when he ran his tongue along your clit.

“You’re so pretty when you cum,” he said.

“Want you inside of me.”

Javi nodded his head and got up to grab his wallet. He pulled a condom out and put it on the nightstand before standing in between your legs and leaning down to kiss you. He stopped for a moment to slide the condom on and move you up the bed with a pillow under your back for extra support.

“Fuck,” he said as he eased himself inside of you, “I know you said no marks, but what if I put them where no one except for me will see them?” He asked. You moaned a yes and he was beginning to slowly thrust while he put love bites on your chest.

“Fuck - please, go faster,” you said. He nodded and groaned into your ear when he started to really pick up the pace.

“You’re so tight. I don’t know if I’m gonna last,” he said.

“It’s okay. You’re big and I’m already close.”

Javi nodded and started thrusting into you faster. His thrusts became more erratic and you knew he was close. You wrapped your legs around his hips while he rubbed your clit, making both of you cum. He laid with his head in the crook of your neck for a few minutes before pulling out of you and throwing the condom away in the bathroom trash can. He came back with a warm towel and helped you clean up before going back to holding you in his arms.

“I wonder how long it’ll take for Murphy to notice,” he said.

“Don’t say that.”

Steve didn’t need to figure it out. You let it slip to Connie when you were getting drinks one night and she obviously told him. Only, you didn’t know that until he strolled by your desk one morning saying, “What did I say? He’s not so bad once you get to know him,”.

Taglist:

@littlebadariell @cycbaby @luckyladycreator2 @idontcare-11 @blue-aconite @maverick-wingman @shawty-fenty @littlemisstopgun @rosiahills22 @katieshook02 @justanothermagicalsara @caitsymichelle13 @smoothdogsgirl @adoringsebstan @cherrycola27 @alexxavicry @mrsjaderogers @mak-32 @thefandomimagines @tallrock35 @caatheeriinee07 @bradshawseresinbabe @atarmychick007 @3sriracha @genius2050 @halstead-severide-fan @withakindheartx

#javier pena smut #javier pena x reader #narcos fanfiction #javier pena fanfiction #x reader #reader insert #pedro pascal characters #javier pena #narcos #callsign joyride's summer of smut #javier peña smut #javier peña imagine #javier peña #javier peña x reader #javier peña fanfiction

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barnesafterglow · 1 year

Text

can't wait to have you

summary: you love carter, and carter can never wait to have you

pairing: carter baizen x fem!reader

word count: 1.5k

warnings: first person pov, sex in a public setting, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), the gossip girl timeline is blurry but these are all adults i promise, rich kids being rich kids, implied voyeurism

a/n: here's another installment of kinktober! i know it's past the usual dates but i loved all these prompts so much and i wanted to make sure i got all of them. this is also my first time writing a fic in first person, so i hope it's good! thank you to anyone who's still reading, and please make sure to reblog and comment if you enjoyed!

you can follow @theafterglowlibrary to stay updated on when i post!🤍

kinktober masterlist ─ main masterlist

“Stop that,” I hissed as I slapped Carter’s hands away. “You do realize that my grandmother is right across the room?”

“Baby, half your family is in this room,” he said as he crept his hand back up the material of my dress.

When I asked Carter to come with me to this charity event tonight, I made him swear there would be no funny business. I shivered as I remembered the last time I had let him come to an event with me - it ended with me wrapped in a blanket, half-naked, in the back of a police car, and the loss of a pair of very expensive shoes. Not to even mention the bail I had to post for Carter in the morning.

I was not letting that happen again. But I was also a sucker for Carter Baizen.

“And you can put your hands wherever you want after,'' I said as I grabbed his hand and shoved it into his lap, “we get through the night.”

“You’re no fun when your mom is around.”

“My mom isn’t fun to be around.” And, as if she could hear me besmirching her name, she appeared on the other end of the table.

“Dear, why don’t you come with me?” It wasn’t a suggestion, no matter how polite she made it seem. “I have someone I want you to meet.”

She turned to walk away, knowing I had no choice but to follow, and of course she headed directly towards Nate Archibald.

Nate and I had never dated - his parents had been planning on him marrying Blair since the moment he was born - but my mother seemed dead set on changing their minds. No matter the fact that I had been dating Carter since I was 18, right after he got through his “I’m giving up the family money and creating my own fate” phase, which, let’s be honest, was not his smartest move.

“Nate,” I greeted politely as I approached him and Blair. “Blair, I’ve missed you.”

I gave her an air kiss on each cheek and pulled her in for a tight hug, whispering in her ear, “I’m sorry in advance for whatever bullshit my mother is about to say.”

She laughed, squeezing around my shoulders before pulling away.

“I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

Despite what nearly everyone in our lives thought - though we never gave them any reason to - Blair and I had always been good friends. It had been rocky for a bit, when my mother first started to push Nate and I together. But she quickly realized I had no interest in him outside of keeping my mother off my ass, and her, Serena, and I bonded closely. Nothing like insane mothers to bring three girls together.

In addition to not caring about Nate, I had been in love with Carter for as long as I could remember. Long before he had become mine.

Speaking of, I turned my head to look back at him - even as Nate and I chatted in order to appease my mother - but my heart dropped when I saw he wasn’t at our table anymore.

Then I felt his warm hand on my waist, and the worry melted from my body.

“Sorry to steal her away, but there’s something urgent she has to attend to.” The smugness in his voice was evident even without seeing the smirk on his face, and I rolled my eyes.

“You know how Carter is, can’t go five minutes without my attention,” I laughed, pressing a kiss to Nate’s cheek and saying my goodbyes before linking my hand with Carter’s and letting him pull me along.

Of course, he was headed straight for the double doors that led to the lobby of The Empire.

“Baby, what are you doing? I can’t leave yet.”

“Don’t worry, we’re not leaving.” Right outside the doors, he pulled you into a dimly lit hallway, and I knew exactly where this was heading.

“Carter, no.” But the giddiness in my voice betrayed my real feelings as he pushed me against the wall, lips coming down over mine.

I could already feel his hand rucking the skirt of my dress up, wrapping my leg around his waist.

His lips moved down my jaw, latching onto my neck. I was glad for the cool weather finally coming down in the city so I could wear a turtleneck and not have to face the speculation of the tabloids - they were forever trying to say Carter or I were cheating on each other, despite the fact that he had been my first and would be my last.

“Look so pretty, baby, you can’t expect me to keep my hands to myself,” he said hotly against my exposed collarbone, leaving a mark there too.

“Can you not wait for me to at least grab my coat and get home?”

“Absolutely not.” And I believed him without a doubt. He was insatiable.

One hand remained on my waist while the other slid under my dress, tracing its way along my thigh until he reached my core.

“You’re not even wearing any panties, don’t tell me you don’t want this.”

“Of course I want it, asshole. I always want you.” My hands came up to his shoulders, pushing lightly. “Now get on your knees or get off of me.”

He was quick to obey - he always was, with me, though no one would believe it unless they saw it. And without hesitation, he pushed the fabric of my dress up, lifting my leg to rest on his shoulder, until I was exposed to him.

He stared for a moment, as if I were something he hadn’t seen a thousand times, before he looked up at me, pressing a gentle kiss to my clit. That alone was enough to draw a whine from me.

That was another thing people didn’t expect - how gentle he was. Don’t get me wrong, he could manhandle me just as well, but he also loved to take it nice and slow, dragging out my pleasure until I was begging him.

Which, apparently, he was not interested in doing tonight. He wasn’t gentle for more than a second before he was completely buried in between my thighs. He lapped at my pussy like a man starving, expertly swirling his tongue around my clit while one hand pushed harshly on my hip to pin me to the wall and he slipped two fingers inside me with the other.

I had to bite down on my fist to keep my moan contained when a group of people walked out of the ballroom. It hit me then just how close we were to the potential of being caught. The light of the opened door stopped mere inches before it could expose our figures, and that only served to turn Carter on even more.

He moved his mouth with even more vigor, and I gripped his hair and clenched my teeth as I came around his fingers.

As I came down from my orgasm, he wasted no time in standing up - keeping my leg to wrap around his waist again - and unbuckling his pants as he kissed me.

I moaned again at the taste of myself on his lips and he swallowed the sound. He kept his lips steadily moving against mine as he pushed into me, and the sweet burn of him stretching me out was dizzying.

He rocked his hips, still keeping his lips on mine, and I whimpered into his mouth. No matter how many times I had him, he never failed to make my head spin with pleasure.

That was the best thing about being with someone for so long - you got to know each other so well that making the other feel good was second nature.

Because of the time constraint, he moved even more quickly than normal, reaching his hand between us to rub circles on my clit, and I dropped my head onto his shoulder, letting the feeling build inside me until the tightly wound coil in me snapped.

The feeling of me squeezing around him pushed Carter over the edge and his thrusts stuttered until he was spilling into me, still pumping his hips until he was so oversensitive he let out a pitiful moan.

When he finally pulled out, he kept his hand on my center, using two fingers to push his release back into me.

“Can’t let my girl walk around all messy,” he said, kissing me sweetly, as if that wasn’t exactly what he wanted.

I rolled my eyes and helped him fix his pants, slipping my hand into his to step back into the light, when I saw Chuck Bass standing right outside the doors to the ballroom.

“Thanks for the show,” he said, patting Carter on the back as he walked past us.

kinktober taglist *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

@treatbuckywkisses @sgt-barnesveins @bucky-barmes @opheliastark @sweetascanbee @writing-for-marvel @christywantspizza @hi-sarahh @highlyintelligentblonde @jjbunny14 @buckysfavoritereader

#carter baizen #carter baizen fic #carter baizen smut #carter baizen x reader #carter baizen x you #carter baizen x fem!reader #carter baizen x y/n #gossip girl #gossip girl fanfiction #carter baizen fanfiction #tiff writes #tiff's kinktober #kinktober 22 #can't wait to have you

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mbakuetshurisprincess · 1 year

Text

Love for Duties Sake Part 3

AN: Hello loves and happy valentines day! Wow when I say I went literally feral writing this I mean I started writing it last night inspired by my bae @pinkwright and the words just flew out idk. Consider this a valentine's treat from me to you. I hope you all enjoy and MWAH theres a very big kiss for all of you.

Summary: As the only daughter of Genelia, there were things you just had to do, and marrying the Queen of Wakanda was one of those things.

Pairing: Shuri x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Cussing, guns, mentions of death and grieving, that’s it I think.

Word count: 3,744

Part 1. Part 2. Masterlist. Taglist.

Suggested listening: Kingston - Faye Webster

“Every single word you say makes me feel some type of way It's the thought of you that slightly scares me But it takes my breath away, forget what I was gonna say The day that I met you, I started dreaming Now I write 'em down if I remember in the morning time”

The ride to the restaurant was quick, you didn’t even pay too much attention to your surroundings as you rode in the back of the SUV next to Shuri. Your mind was too preoccupied with what prompted her to ask you to dinner all of a sudden and why the prospect of spending quality time with her made you feel warm on the inside. That was why you didn’t recognize the path you’d traveled countless times until the car was parked right outside and Shuri was helping you out of the car.

Taking your hand gently in hers as you stepped out, pulling your skirt down to maintain modesty in case any news outlets were there. And of course, they were, but they kept a decent distance away, while they snapped photos of the interaction between you and Shuri; fearful of Okoye, Aneka, and Ayo who flanked you two. Your mind finally made the connection as your eyes read over the name of the restaurant Mamie Bidoche. The same French-inspired quaint restaurant you practically lived in when you spent time in DC.

“Shuri!” You squealed, overcome with excitement to be back at your favorite restaurant. Joy ran through your body and you couldn’t help but jump a little while you still held her hand. “How did you know about this place? Who told you about it?”

Shuri wished she could take a photo of you right then and there with her kimoyo beads just so she could savor the genuine smile on your face. This was the smile she didn’t get to see often, the one you seemed to only reserve when talking to everyone except her. At that moment the Queen swore to do whatever she could to make sure that smile never left your face. “You mentioned it once in an interview when we were first courting, our second with Asha I believe.”

Blush now added to the smile on your face as you recalled the interview. Asha asked where your favorite place to eat in the States was and you replied without hesitation Mamie Bidoche, saying that you’d sell your soul to have a plate of their food again. That was so long ago, how could she remember that?

And that meant she was paying attention to you at the time too. For a long while you’d assumed Shuri had been zoning out during your interviews, not caring what you had to say until it was time for her to play the part of the doting wife. It was part of the reason you built up a dislike for her early in the relationship. But this disproved all of that, she had been listening.

“And that one time I asked you for a hair tie, you told me I should light my hair on fire and offered me a matchbox from here,” Shuri added with a laugh for more emphasis on her point. You had forgotten about that time, not your brightest moment but still funny considering everything.

“You remembered all that?” You asked, your smile had faded into a softer one but Shuri still found it beautiful. Your hand now only connected to hers through your fingertips, both refusing to let go of the other.

“Of course sthandwa, why wouldn’t I? You’re my wife.” The response Shuri gave you made you almost feel silly for asking the question.

Words didn’t feel like they could quantify your feelings so you simply wrapped your arms around Shuri’s neck and pulled her in close to you. Your reaction surprised Shuri but instinctively she wrapped her arms around your waist pressing your body against hers. The cameras snapped, capturing the pure moment between you two. Ayo, Aneka, and Okoye all shared a knowing glance, taking this moment as confirmation of Aneka’s previous theory. “Thank you,” You whispered as you pulled away, the soft smile never leaving your face.

“Nothing to thank me for my love,” Shuri replied, matching your smile. The sound of cameras shuttering reminded Shuri that even though this was a private moment between the two of you, it was subject to be blasted all over the internet at any moment. Plus the sound of one camera that seemed to be clicking more rapidly than others was starting to make her uncomfortable. “Do you maybe want to go inside now?”

You could sense the nervousness in Shuri’s voice, you couldn’t figure out what brought it on but you wanted to do your best to make it go away. Grabbing her hand you replied with a smile “Yes,” before dragging her into the restaurant with Ayo, Aneka, and Okoye tailing behind.

The interior looked just as you remembered it, small and homey with a clear view of the kitchen so you could watch your food be prepared and cooked. Typically lunchtime in DC meant this place was packed but strangely no one else was there aside from the chefs and the waiter who guided you to your table. Shuri held out your chair and pushed you in, sitting in the same corner you sat in when you would come all those years ago.

“Did you have this place shut down?” You ask seriously once Shuri takes her seat across from you at the table.

Unfolding the napkin into her lap she chuckled. “And what if I did?”

You groan and shoot her a look she’s familiar with, level one annoyance. “Shuri,” You state firmly. “You can’t just buy out a restaurant for the two of us, they’re going to lose money!”

“My love,” Shuri scoffed. “It is not just the two of us. Aneka, Okoye, Ayo.” She called the names of the three Dora’s and they all came to your table in an instant. Quite frankly you sometimes found their haste and devotion a little scary, they were always popping up places in the blink of an eye.

“Yes, my Queen?” Ayo spoke first.

You and Shuri maintained eye contact while she spoke to Ayo. You were curious about what she would say and she was determined to prove a point.

“The three of you grab a table together. Take advantage of this fine cuisine my wife raves so much about.”

Okoye tried to refuse. “Our job is to be focused on you, having a meal would only distract us.”

This time you spoke up. “Take a break please, all three of you. You work so tirelessly to protect us all the least you could do is eat lunch. On Shuri’s dime of course.” You added the last part in and caught the smile that Aneka tried to fight.

The three women all looked at each other deciding if they were going to comply or not. One swift head nod from Okoye confirmed that you had won them over. All three walked away and sat at a table far enough away to not disturb you but still close enough that they could keep an eye out in case anything went awry.

“Five people are not the same amount of money as a DC lunch rush.” You remarked. Level two annoyance detected.

“Did you wear that skirt for me?” Shuri asked seemingly ignoring your comment in favor of talking about something she wanted to discuss.

“What? No, I wore it 'cause I like skirts.” Eying Shuri up and down you continued. “We’re hurting their profit margins, Shuri.”

“I don’t like it when you say my name like that. Shuri.” She repeated the way you said her name. “So much contempt, I used to think you might actually hate me.”

Your wife's comments made you pause and you took a sip of water while you digested your thoughts. “Shuri,” It came more softly from your mouth this time. “Have you listened to anything I’ve said? We can’t just shut a place down for five people.

The Queen sighed, as much as she loved her wife's strong will it was times like this that she wished you would just drop things. “Of course, I have listened to what you said, I didn’t just shut the place down. I’m paying double what they normally make per hour for however long we’re here, plus a tip for taking on Ayo, Aneka, and Okoye.”

“Oh,” You said quietly.

“Mhm,” Shuri replied, taking a sip of her own water. “Now are you ready to drop this so we can have a nice lunch?”

“Yes.”

The conversation flowed well between you and Shuri. She was able to delve into some details about current council debates that were stressing her and you offered your insight on how to best achieve what she was looking for. You made everything seem so simple and Shuri appreciated it in contrast to how she overthought everything. The conversation died down as you two finished the last bites of the meal, savoring every drop of sauce left on your plate.

Shuri nibbled the inside of her lip and pushed the remaining food around her plate as she watched you. Something was on her mind and you knew it.

“Out with it already.” You commanded dabbing the napkin at the edge of your mouth. Shuri’s confused face only made you laugh. “This marriage thing means we’ve spent a lot of time together, willingly or unwillingly. I can tell when something is on your mind so spill, let it out.

The young royal shifted in her seat, unaware of how obvious her actions had been. She was so used to being able to pick up on everyone else’s patterns of behavior due to her enhanced abilities but never had someone picked up on hers. Thinking for a moment, she shook her head no. “It’s too personal, I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable. Especially after the beautiful lunch we had.”

“Shuri, we’re married, if I really don’t want to, I just won’t answer.” Your response was simple and Shuri appreciated that.

“You um never talk about Genelia?” It came out like a question more than a statement like it was intended. “I noticed that today, when the President’s idiot self brought it up you, seemed almost a little upset. Is there a reason you don’t want to talk about it?”

You tensed up once Shuri finished her sentence, in all honesty, Genelia was not on your list of topics you wanted to discuss today, or any day for that matter. But the way Shuri spoke, her question seemed genuine like she wanted to really know what happened.

Clearing your throat you started. “Genelia and I have a complicated relationship, a majority in part due to my parents. I’m sure you know from interviews and just the public perception of me pre us, I hadn’t been home in years. I lived between France and the United States comfortably I might add for the end of my teen years. What you don’t know however is what made me leave for so long.” You paused here allowing yourself to breathe, these aren't memories you revisited often.

“I know I say a lot that I’m the only daughter of Genelia but that’s technically not true, I’m the only living daughter of Genelia.”

A look of confusion danced across Shuri’s face, she knew you had plenty of siblings but never had you mentioned a sister. You constantly cracked jokes in interviews about how growing up surrounded by all boys made you tough, so to hear about this mystery sister didn’t quite add up.

“Her name was Yara and she was only a year older than me. We did everything together, she was my best friend and we didn’t spend a day apart. I mean I think my mother had to get us separate rooms because I would crawl into bed with her at night.” That smile Shuri had seen earlier crept back up on your face as you reminisced on the good times with your older sister. Imagining what she would say if she saw you now all grown up and married.

“But Yara you know, she was too good for this world I think, that’s the only justification I can come up with. Her little body just wasn’t built to hold all the light she had, she was too much for it. Over the years she became weaker and weaker. And when I was sixteen she uh passed.” The memory of the day she finally passed still stuck out in your mind, how your parents kept you from her until the last minute. How you sat and held all of your tears because you knew Yara didn’t like to see you cry. Her death had been a long drawn-out process and it had been painful to watch your sibling slowly deteriorate.

“My parents didn't really know how to let me grieve like I should’ve been able to. We fought almost every day, just over the stupidest shit. Eventually, they pulled me aside and said I was becoming a bad influence on my younger siblings, that I used Yara’s death as an excuse to act up.” Your voice got quieter as you continued speaking. “My parents told me they had other children to raise, other children to help grieve and I was getting in the way of that. They sent me to France the very next morning.”

Shuri looked at you with the first expression of hers that you couldn’t track. There was a sadness in her eyes but the corners of her lips were tight as if she was mad. “I am sorry to have made you dredge up something so personal, sthandwa.” Reaching across the table she took your hand in hers rubbing it soothingly. “Yara sounds like she was a beautiful girl and an amazing older sister. I am sorry that your parents didn’t allow you to grieve her properly, I know how important that process is.”

At that moment, looking Shuri in her eyes while she held your hand in hers, you never felt closer to her. Not when you two shared your first kiss in front of millions on your wedding day, not during the countless interviews you too had done, not even during the rare times you did share a laugh when you were both home. No, none of those times compared to the connectedness you experienced with your wife at that moment. It scared you how being this connected made you want to be vulnerable to Shuri, you couldn’t let that happen, to tell all of your secrets to her after just one dinner.

You broke eye contact and Shuri took that as a sign to pull her hand away from yours. “It’s okay, I’m not as upset as I used to be about it. Honestly, I’ve been thinking I might want to go back someday.” You said the statement so casually but Shuri’s eyes shot up from the table.

“What?”

“I think I might wanna go back someday, to Genelia.” You repeated.

“No, my love, I heard you, I just can’t understand why you would want to go back to a country that treated you so poorly.” Shuri’s comments made sense and you nodded.

“I’m not saying tomorrow Shuri,” You were careful how you said her name remembering her earlier comments. “I just mean before I die you know? I’ve still got siblings over there that I need to repair things with.”

The morbidity of your comments got Shuri’s eyes rolling but she understood your sentiment nonetheless. The end of your comment piqued her interest but she decided against asking as she had already made you delve into your personal life. The queen allowed a few beats to pass, just admiring your beauty before she spoke, “I have to say entle I enjoyed this dinner with you.”

Shuri’s comments made you smile from ear to ear. “Thank you lovely, I did too.”

Lovely? That was the first honorific you had ever used for her when a camera wasn’t present. Shuri couldn’t help the blush that crept onto her cheeks, you thought she was lovely?

“A shame it has to come to an end though, maybe we could do this more when we’re back home?” Shuri asked the question hesitantly as she rose from her chair holding her hand out to you.

Now it was your turn to blush. The idea of getting to spend quality time with Shuri, uninterrupted like you just did, was a dream you honestly thought was never going to be possible. You took her hand as you stood. “I would love that, but who says that we have to end it here?”

“What do you mean?” Shuri asked, still holding onto your hand.

“Yes, what do you mean my Queen?” Okoye was very quickly approaching you and Shuri with Aneka and Ayo flanking either side of her. Shit, trying to convince Shuri of your plan would be easy, but getting it passed those three would be a difficult process.

“I just mean there's a walk-up ice cream shop, not even a block from here. Like literally right up the street. You batted your eyelashes at Shuri. “We could all get ice cream before we go, my treat!”

Shuri laughed at you and you couldn’t tell if it was because the idea of you paying for something was comical or if it was because you thought Okoye was going to go for it.

“No,” Okoye answered simply, blinking at you unfazed by the puppy dog eyes you were trying to give her. “The area hasn’t been swept; there is no way for us to ensure your safety.”

“And we’ve been in one unsecure location for too long, our whereabouts could be known by anyone at this point,” Ayo added to strengthen Okoye’s point.

“It was secure enough for all of us to have a meal.” You argued back, the taste of the insane flavor combinations the shop was known to mix up already on your tongue. “It’s a Mom and Pop ice cream shop, just one scoop and we’re done!”

Shuri shifted in her heels, rocking back and forth trying to decide if this was worth it. On the one hand, Okoye and Ayo were right, her last-minute decision to take you out here had caused a lot of disruptions to their normal security protocol. And the pictures that had been taken of you two had surely already made their round through the internet meaning your location was public. It was a risky idea. But on the other hand there you were, blinking up at her with your beautiful brown eyes, the ghost of that smile appearing on your lips as you anticipated her response. How could she say no to that?

“One scoop can’t hurt can it?” She turned to Okoye who stared back at Shuri dumbfounded.

“My queen, I cannot advise that this is the safest decision.” Okoye was always honest with Shuri. “But if you two insist, we can do ONE scoop in a cup for you to take back on the jet. Deal?”

You squealed in excitement for the second time in the day. “Thank you thank you thank you!” You repeated the statement over and over to Shuri and Okoye who watched you with boredness and amusement respectively.

The three women escorted you and Shuri out of the restaurant after Shuri had paid, you watched her leave a healthy tip on both of the tables before leaving. Just as you promised right up the block there was an ice cream shop with just two windows, one to order and the other one to pick up your cone. You stood reading over the menu, mulling over what you were going to get when Okoye’s voice cut in.

“You two hurrying up would be ideal. I do not like how exposed we are right now.” Okoye stood directly next to Shuri, while Aneka and Ayo had disappeared, presumably protecting you and Shuri from other areas of attack.

Hearing Okoye’s words, Shuri wrapped her hand around your waist and gently pushed you in front of her so that her back was to the street and you were shielded. The gesture made you blush, she was always so protective of you.

“I’ll have one scoop of your double chocolate coffee crunch in a cup please.” You said to the white man behind the counter who gave you a curt nod. His being there felt a little funny to you, you could have sworn this was a black-owned business who specialize in hiring specifically previously incarcerated black people. Although to be fair it had been years since you’d been there, their policies could have changed due to demand or the job market.

“And I’ll have just a scoop of your chocolate please, in a cup as well,” Shuri added in behind you before placing her card to pay before you could bring yours out. She quelled your protests with a quick kiss on your forehead.

You two stood off to the side while you waited for your ice cream. Shuri’s arms had now moved to rest around your neck, pulling you against her once again with her chin resting on top of your head. Take full advantage of the height difference between you two even though it wasn’t that big. You felt safe like this, wrapped up in her.

The bell dung signified your order was ready and before Shuri could move to get it, you were already slipping out of her arms making your way over to pick it up. All of your attention was on Shuri as you turned away from the counter and stuck your tongue out at her. Earning a laugh from your wife, one of your favorite sounds.

You turned back to take the cups from the man but were instead met by the barrel of a gun aimed directly at you. Fear overtook you and the most you could get out was “Shuri!” before two shots rang out hitting you in the abdomen.

Everything seemed to move in slow motion after that, your body fell back against the concrete with a harsh thud. You blinked and Shuri was at your side, hands pressing kimoyo beads into your stomach. Another blink and you saw Okoye jumping through the window at the counter in an attempt to apprehend the man who had so carelessly tried to take your life. Your wife was speaking to you in jumbled sentences, mixtures between Xhosa and English. The recurring sentence you could make out was her plea to you,

“Stay with me.”

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#shuri x y/n #shuri x reader #shuri black panther #shuri imagine #shuri udaku #shuri fanfiction #shuri x you #black panther #black panther fanfiction #black panther imagine #black panther fic #black panther fandom #wlw blog #wlw ship #wlw fanfic

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bloody-bee-tea · 1 month

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IntiMarch 2024 Day 16 - Only on me

The prompt for this was "Come closer"

Suguru has known that Satoru is a vampire from the very beginning. He kind of has to, being a regulator and all, and in all honesty, Satoru wasn’t trying to hide it much.

At least Suguru hopes it was a deliberate choice because otherwise Satoru just sucks at keeping secrets and they really can’t have that, not when it would impact so many people if it ever came out that all the mythological beings are real.

And Suguru hadn’t been stupid about it, either. He didn’t quite monitor Satoru—he’s old enough to care for himself even if he’s still in the somewhat human and aging stage—but Suguru kept a close eye on suspicious deaths or disappearances in the area.

He’s not proud to admit it, but he breathed a sigh of relief when he realised that Satoru wasn’t going around mindlessly killing people and that there would be no reason for him to interfere or god forbid collar him.

So, all in all, things are great.

Except they are not.

Because something is happening with Satoru, something Suguru can’t put his finger on and it’s a constant worry in the back of his head.

“You okay?” he asks Satoru one day, when they are on the couch, watching a movie or something—Suguru long stopped paying attention—and Satoru’s leg continues to bounce long past the initial sugar rush has worn off.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” he asks, not even meeting Suguru’s eyes and that more than anything is a dead give-away that something is bothering him.

“Because you’re being strange,” Suguru says and just as Satoru opens his mouth he adds: “Stranger than usual.”

“Oh, wow, thank you very much,” Satoru gives back, but he doesn’t elaborate and he doesn’t explain or offer any other kind of answer as to why he could be off like that and Suguru has had enough.

He switches the TV off.

“Hey, what the hell are you doing?” Satoru demands to know and he finally turns around to glare at Suguru.

“There you are,” Suguru breathes out and drops the remote control. “Now tell me what the hell has you this nervous.”

“It’s—nothing,” Satoru tries again, even less convincing than the first time he deflected and Suguru glares at him until Satoru caves under his gaze.

“I’m handling it, promise,” Satoru whispers out, turning his head away and curling up small on the couch. “No need to get all bossy on me.”

“Then let me get all friend-y on it,” Suguru says and waits for Satoru’s confused look before he goes on. “Let me help. Like a good friend does.”

“This is not something you can help with,” Satoru whispers out and Suguru immediately knows that there is something he might be able to help with, Satoru is just too prideful to say it.

“That’s a lie and we both know it. Tell me what it is.”

“Why are you so—” Satoru cuts himself off and throws the pillow he was clutching to his chest straight into Suguru’s face.

“Why am I so what?” Suguru catches the pillow easily. “Helpful? Concerned? Such a good friend? I really don’t know.”

“Haha, very funny, never laughed so much,” Satoru grumbles under his breath and Suguru softens, leaning against Satoru and dropping his head to his shoulder.

Maybe this approach will get him better results.

“Satoru, please,” he quietly says. “You seem stressed and I don’t like seeing you like that. What’s bothering you? I really just want to help you.”

“Yeah, right,” Satoru mutters out. “And then you’re going to report to your family and then what? I’ll be collard in no time, just like my family said.”

Now that took a turn Suguru didn’t expect.

“Why the hell would I collar you? What is going on?”

Satoru stays quiet for a worryingly long time, but Suguru decides to wait him out. Sometimes, Satoru responds well to being pestered, to being prodded and annoyed until it all spills out of him in an annoyed rush, but sometimes he needs to sit and gather his thoughts and think about how to say something and Suguru learned to read those two different moods rather well.

Right now, it’s a thinking mood.

“Shoko is no longer getting blood bags,” Satoru finally whispers out and Suguru’s eyebrows fly up in surprise.

“She didn’t mention anything like that,” he gives back, because it doesn’t seem like a topic Shoko would keep quiet.

It sounds more like something she would complain about.

“Yeah, well,” Satoru shrugs awkwardly with one shoulder. “Apparently Yaga is asking why so many blood bags are disappearing and she said she couldn’t risk it anymore.”

Now that brings Suguru up short.

“Wait,” he says, straightening up and turning fully to Satoru. “Are you—is this how you feed yourself?” Suguru wants to know and it doesn’t make sense.

They leave the campus often enough that Satoru can get something to eat down in the city, it shouldn’t be a problem.

“Of course it is,” Satoru snaps out. “What do you think? At least, I used to. Now I can’t anymore and it’s making me itchy. Mind you, it’s not yet that bad that I’m going to randomly attack people,” he rushes out. “But—it’s hard. I haven’t figured out how to get a new supplier yet.”

“No, wait, back up,” Suguru says, and the urgency in his voice seems to be quite audible because Satoru finally turns around to him.

And now Suguru can see it, the signs of hunger on him. It all makes sense, except for how it definitely doesn’t.

“Why don’t you just—feed?”

“On what? Did you not listen, there are no more blood bags.”

“But—Shoko is there. I am right here. We go down into the city several times a week. You could easily find someone to feed on. How are you not feeding at all?”

Satoru reels back as if he’s been hit at those questions, before a look of pure hurt flashes over his face. It’s almost enough to make Suguru take back whatever hurtful thing he just said, but in the end the confusion wins out.

“Satoru—”

“You could have just said that you want me gone,” Satoru suddenly hisses out and Suguru is horrified to see tears in his eyes. “Why would you say these things? Is this a test? Are you going to call my Clan the minute I say yes?”

Suguru takes a deep breath. Something is going very wrong here, and it’s not going to help if they continue their talk like this.

“Satoru, let’s calm down,” he carefully says and immediately goes on when it looks as if Satoru wants to protest. “You and me both. You’re upset and I am very confused and I don’t think we’re having the same conversation at all.”

“Of course I’m upset!”

“Okay, I can see that. Tell me why,” Suguru cajoles him but Satoru only stares at him with huge eyes.

“What do you mean why?”

“I mean just that. I don’t understand why my questions would upset you like that, so you have to explain it to me. Please.”

“What is there to understand? You know the rules,” Satoru hisses at him and Suguru struggles to keep calm.

This is not going to get them anywhere.

“Let’s assume I don’t.”

“Huh?”

“Let’s just assume for a second that I don’t know the rules. Explain them to me.”

“So you can send me away?” Satoru asks and Suguru knows he wants to sound stern and annoyed but it comes out so scared and so hurt that Suguru pulls him into a hug.

“Satoru, I would never send you away. Don’t—don’t tell this to anyone but I would cover up a murder for you. So whatever it is, I’m not allowing anyone to take you away from me.”

It’s not even a lie; Suguru never gave it much thought before today, never thought he had to, really, but if hiding a body or covering up Satoru’s trail means he gets to stay right where he is, by Suguru’s side, he’d probably do that and maybe even worse.

No one is going to separate them.

“What are the rules?” Suguru asks when Satoru stays quiet and Satoru slumps more heavily against him, clearly giving in.

“It’s not allowed to drink from humans directly,” Satoru mutters, his hands tightly tangled in Suguru’s shirt. “If someone does, they lose control and then they need to be collard by you, your line. My Clan made it very clear that they’d put me under a controlling spell before they let me be collard but—that’s not any better.”

For a moment, Suguru sees red.

Satoru must notice something because he stiffens in Suguru’s arms.

“I know my rules,” Satoru whispers, as if that makes anything better and Suguru forces himself to be calm again, even though there’s so much rage swirling in his chest.

“Who told you that?” he forces himself to ask and wonders just who he has to kill for this.

“My Clan,” Satoru gives back and Suguru tightens his arms around him.

Satoru is never ever going back there, not if Suguru has something to say about it.

“Satoru, it’s not true,” Suguru starts and hides his face in Satoru’s whispy soft hair. “That’s not true at all, those are not the rules.”

Satoru practically radiates surprise so Suguru is quick to go on.

“You’re allowed to feed on humans. It’s expected that you feed on humans, actually, because this—fuck, Satoru did you ever have anything besides blood bags?” Suguru asks and a new kind of horror settles into his bones.

“No,” Satoru admits and Suguru wants to weep.

They are basically starving Satoru that way.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry,” Suguru mutters. “Blood bags are a last resort when you can’t find anything else. The blood in there is—dead, or so I’ve been told. It’s not the same, it’s not the same at all. It doesn’t have what you need to properly survive!”

“I’ve survived fine until now,” Satoru mumbles but Suguru shakes his head.

“You haven’t. If this powerlevel is you with blood bags, you’re at least twice as strong if you feed properly, trust me.”

“How do you know so much? You’re not a vampire.”

“But I am a regulator. We’re there to help. Teach control if a vampire is abandoned after their siring. Help abused vampires.”

Like you, he doesn’t say, because he can’t bear to say it, even though it’s exactly what’s been happening.

“Of course I would know a lot, I’m here to make sure things go well between humans and vampires.”

“Are you—can you help me?” Satoru whispers and Suguru holds him even tighter.

“Of course I can help you. You’re going to feed on me, today, but we’ll go down into the city later this week, no worries.”

“Suguru!” Satoru moves away from Suguru, his eyes huge with surprise. “I can’t feed on you! What if I lose control?”

Suguru’s instinct is to tell him that that’s not going to happen, but if Satoru has never tasted warm human blood then chances are he might.

“I’m strong enough to stop you, should that happen,” Suguru gives back, because it’s the truth. “Unlike unsuspecting humans. You can’t hurt me, I won’t let you, but you really do need to feed.”

“Promise. Promise me, Suguru, that you won’t let me hurt you,” Satoru begs him and Suguru is quick to comply.

“I promise, Satoru. I won’t let that happen.”

Satoru bites his lower lip, worrying it with his teeth and Suguru nudges him.

“What else?”

“Promise me you’re telling the truth,” Satoru says, barely audible in the room and Suguru’s heart hurts for him.

“I promise you that I am telling the truth. I promise you’re allowed to drink of people, as long as you don’t kill them. It won’t make you lose control and it won’t make you a bad person or whatever bullshit your Clan told you.”

It’s an effective way to keep a vampire under control, keep them sheltered and scared and weak, but not for much longer.

Suguru won’t allow it.

“Alright,” Satoru whispers. “What do I do?”

“First of all, come closer. It’s best to drink here,” he points to the place where neck meets shoulder. “You need to break the skin, so don’t hesitate to bite down. It won’t hurt—much—because you’ll automatically administer something that numbs the pain and stops the blood from congealing. You drink until you feel like you’ve had enough or until I tap you to pull away.”

“And you will. Tap me, if you have to.”

“Of course.”

Satoru still hesitates, but his gaze is already fixed on the point where he’ll have his teeth in just a few moments and Suguru knows that he’s not strong enough to move away now.

It’s already a wonder Satoru has gone this long with attacking anyone, and Suguru is not at all worried.

If Satoru has never attacked a person, his self-control is stronger than he gives himself credit for.

“I’m sorry,” Satoru says, right before he moves in, and the pain when he finally sinks his fangs into Suguru’s skin is blinding for a moment, before everything goes pleasantly numb.

Satoru makes a surprised noise against his skin and Suguru guesses that’s fair. It is a lot to take in, first time feeding, and he reassuringly strokes Satoru’s hair.

“That’s it, just like that,” he encourages him, feeling Satoru drink from him and Suguru didn’t even stop to think about how that would feel.

No vampire has ever fed from him, and now he’s glad that Satoru is the first. They can be each other’s firsts like that.

Satoru stops way before Suguru thought, though he doesn’t retreat completely. He takes his fangs out of Suguru’s skin, but then he moves his lips over the spot, as if he wanted to kiss the ache away.

Suguru feels hot all over.

“How was it?” he forces himself to ask after a long moment, Satoru’s lips still exploring his skin and he shudders when Satoru lets out a deep sigh.

“Good. Very good. You’re—tasty,” Satoru admits. “You taste like my favourite treat.”

“I do, huh,” Suguru weakly gives back. “So, you’d want to do it again?” he can’t help but to ask, because maybe he just needs Satoru to say yes to that.

“If I’m allowed to,” Satoru replies and climbs fully into Suguru’s lap. “If you’ll let me.”

“Always,” Suguru whispers, using his hand still in Satoru’s hair to raise his head.

Satoru makes an unhappy noise when his lips are detached from Suguru’s skin, but Suguru barely gives himself a second to notice the healthy flush to Satoru’s cheeks before he reels him in for a kiss.

“I hope I’m allowed to do that more often, too,” Satoru rasps out when they part and Suguru laughs.

“You can do that as often as you want. For the feeding thing, we’ll have to see how much blood you need and how well I take it, but as often as possible. I—” Suguru briefly bites his lip, but then decides that they already kissed, so what is there to hide. “I don’t want you to feed on anyone else,” he admits and Satoru’s eyes sparkle.

“I wouldn’t want to do that, either,” he agrees and nips at Suguru’s lips until he can’t take it anymore and kisses him again.

“Glad we’re on the same page about that,” Suguru murmurs against his lips when there’s the space to do so and Satoru takes that chance to nuzzle his cheek.

“Thank you,” Satoru says, accentuating the words with kisses.

“Always,” Suguru promises again, because he means it.

And going by the way Satoru blushes—fuelled by Suguru’s own blood—Suguru would guess he understands.

#bt writes #jjk #satosugu #geto suguru #gojo satoru #vampires #blood drinking #getting together #hurt/comfort #first kiss

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thestalwartheart · 3 months

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fascination

Prompt fill for @ithinkthereforiamfandom who gave me a bunch of prompts from the soft fic prompt meme. I went with 'slow dancing.'

Read below or on AO3. Comments/kudos/reblog tags are much appreciated 💖

“Now, with your right—no, right—” With a huff and a laugh, Bond stopped moving.

“Shit. Sorry.”

Bond looked down to see scuffs on his shoes from several encounters with Q’s two left feet. He would have been more annoyed about that, but it was hard to be in a bad mood when the Quartermaster’s hair was in wild disarray and he was flushed pink from embarrassment. He looked, for all intents and purposes, like he was on the better side of a lazy afternoon shag.

“This is hopeless, isn’t it?” continued Q, pushing up his glasses. “I’ll just—thank you for your time, but I should really…”

He moved back and tried to extricate himself from Bond’s grip. Bond held on tight. The clock over Q’s shoulder read nine pm. They’d been at this for two hours—give or take—in Q’s garage-cum-lab, and though Q had so far displayed only marginal improvement as a dancer, they had been two of the better hours of Bond’s life. It was safe to say he wasn’t keen to wrap this up too quickly and face his empty flat, not with Q so deliciously dishevelled and unguarded. The man was, for once, exactly where Bond wanted him.

Besides, Bond never quit, not even when the mission seemed insurmountable. What sort of agent would he be, packing it in at the two-hour mark of teaching someone to dance?

“You’re not giving up that easily,” he said to Q as much as himself.

“Sometimes, it’s abundantly clear that some things are best left to the professionals.” Q winced at the state of Bond’s shoes. “If you take those in tomorrow, I’ll get them fixed up.”

“Forget about my shoes, Q.” Bond leaned in. “You know, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were afraid of me being better at something than you are.”

“Rubbish. You’re better than me at plenty of things.”

“Oh, I am, am I?”

“Yes.”

“Go on.”

“Ah. Well. There’s the hand-to-hand combat for a start.”

“For a start.”

“And all the jumping out of helicopters and such.”

“Naturally.”

“And a one-hundred percent equipment loss rate. It’s really quite impressive. I don’t think I’ve managed to be so forgetful of thousands of pounds worth of belongings in my life.”

“I brought back that radio last week.”

Q gave him a look. This was more familiar footing. “You’ll forgive me if I don’t throw a party.”

“No, you might have to dance at a party.”

“Oh, for—”

Q tried to pull away again. Bond was quicker this time to pull him back in.

“What was it you said earlier? It was imperative you learn how to dance.”

“Did I say that? I might have been a bit hasty.”

“You told me,” said Bond, his voice low, “that this bloke you were going to your cousin’s wedding with, Billy or whoever—”

“Bailey.”

A stupid name, thought Bond, “—was a proper gentleman and an excellent dancer, and that he’d murder you or some such nonsense if he found out you couldn’t dance.”

“It’s been a rather stressful day, Bond. It’s possible I was slightly dramatic about the whole thing.”

“I should hope so. I wouldn’t want to accuse you of having terrible taste in men.”

“Oh!” Q straightened. He was, for the first time in this argument, feeling properly righteous. “Oh, that’s not a road you want to go down, Bond, if we’re talking about partners with murderous intent.”

“No,” conceded Bond. “Probably not.”

Mostly instinctively, though not without a plan, Bond began to sway slowly to the song coming from Q’s speakers. It was one of Bond’s favourites.

“I suppose they knew how to dance, though,” said Q, beginning to sway too. “Your partners.”

There was a funny expression on his face. A twitch of self-consciousness, perhaps. Bond got a quick look at it before Q cast his eyes downwards, once again, to their shoes. The quip Bond had lined up died on his tongue.

It was time, he knew, to exercise a bit of caution.

“Anyone can dance, Q. Given the right mood, the right music, the right partner.” Bond hummed. “A good glass of wine.”

“Or a martini.”

“Or a martini, yes. But there are things more exceptional than dancing.”

Q’s head snapped up. “I thought you said you liked it.”

“I do.” Bond’s hand travelled lower, over Q’s waist and down to his belt loops. “Don’t you?”

“I can’t—” Q seemed astonished to realise they were making a go of it, moving in time to the music. The footwork was minimal, but dancing—the best kind—was never about the bloody footwork. “Oh.”

“Anyone can dance,” said Bond again. “But not everyone’s you.” His thumb stroked the bony protrusion at Q’s hip. “Just make sure Bill—”

“Bailey,” breathed Q, though he no longer seemed affronted or, indeed, particularly concerned about the man.

“Make sure whoever you end up dancing with never forgets it.”

Bond turned them around, still swaying, while Q scrutinised him. The newly curious look in his eye was familiar. All of this was familiar, except in the ways it wasn’t, not quite. They were in Q’s lab rather than a chandelier-ed ballroom, for a start. They were both down to their rolled-up shirtsleeves, and their suits were crumpled after a long day of desk work. Bond was sober and unarmed. There were no martinis in sight. The lighting was, frankly, awful. But the mood was right, and the partner was definitely right, and—

Q cleared his throat. ”If I was to—”

“Christ, yes.”

And then Q was kissing him, and he was kissing back, grabbing fistfuls of those irresistible curls and tugging Q’s shirt out of his trousers to get at his soft, velvet-warm skin. Q kissed like a wild thing, and his hands were everywhere. The lab amplified every sound they made: the huffs of breath against each other, the rough pull of silk and cotton against a callus or two, the wet suck of Q’s mouth around Bond’s bottom lip. And incredibly, they were still dancing.

With his hands on either side of Q’s face, Bond brought Q to a slow stop. Around them, Nat King Cole crooned about fascination, and Bond thought, yes. Yes, quite.

#00q #00q fic #my fic #james bond

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player1064 · 1 month

Note

for the carraville prompts: jamie’s pov of your fic it’s just not what’s done, and him doing/saying increasingly gay things that fluster gary who thought he’d never have a chance with the straight boy

honestly I could write a full length fic of this I LOVE this idea but I am exercising restraint (read: i am too sleepy to keep writing but want to post it anyway) and cutting it off at 1.3k words. Jamie is so so annoying in this god bless xx

---

1996.

There’s a weird buzz in the air when Jamie arrives at Melwood in the morning, and not the usual frustration he’d expect the morning after the first team have lost a game. Everyone’s grouped in little huddles, hushed whispers that cut out when anyone else walks by, but the weirdest part by far is that everyone is holding a fucking newspaper.

He walks into the apprentice’s dressing room and snatches a paper out of one of the other lads’ hands. He turns straight to the back page, but there’s nothing particularly noteworthy there – United won the league, big fucking whoop – so he frowns and flips the paper back to the front page.

Jamie would normally dismiss anything The Sun prints as garbage, but a quick glance around the dressing room shows a few other papers scattered around, all with similar headlines. All with the same photo, printed to take up most of the page, full colour even on a weekday.

The Sun’s headline is not a particularly creative one, but is does get the point across quite succinctly: there, right above the grainy, dimly lit photograph, are the words GAY NEVILLE?

“Oh my fucking God,” he hears Michael whisper from behind him.

Gary Neville, right-back, Jamie’s brain helpfully supplies. Manchester United, 21 years old and already eight caps for England.

His next thought is: what a fucking idiot.

He doesn’t give a shit about the gay thing, not really – he did spend two years at boarding school, he knows what some of the boys got up to there. No, his issue is more that United have just won the league, and everyone knows in a few days they’ll be getting the double when they win the FA cup too. 21 years old, a starter for a team that’s about to make footballing history, a spot in the squad for this summer’s Euros, and the stupid prick’s just thrown it all away because he felt like getting off with someone at a club where anyone could see him.

Maybe he should ask his coaches about practicing in right-back. He has a funny feeling a spot’s about to open up on the England team.

2004.

“Not so brave now that yer boyfriend’s fucked off to Spain, are ye?”

Neville gives him a disinterested look from across the tunnel.

“Not my boyfriend,” he says flatly, rolling his eyes like he’s recited that line a thousand times before.

He probably has, actually. Jamie needs to come up with better insults, something more original. He’ll workshop some for next time.

Still, better to dig in on this one. “No, I s’pose he’s not now that he’s traded you in fer better things. Yer not exactly a Galactico.”

Neville’s expression is still blank but there’s a hint of fire behind his eyes, which tells Jamie that he’s on the right track, that if he pushes just a little bit more he’ll be able to tip him over the edge.

He sees Keane step out from his place at the front of the line, turn to Neville and mutter “d’you need me to –”

“Couldn’t give a fuck, he’s not worth worryin’ over,” Neville replies, raising an eyebrow with a smirk.

There’s no time to say anything back, because the referee walks to the front of the tunnel and then it’s time to go start the game.

2006.

“How’s it work, then?”

Neville looks up from the bowl of Weetabix he’d been intently focused on and glances around the room, like he doesn’t believe it’s him Jamie’s talking to.

He shrugs. “How’s what work?”

“The gay thing. Did yous get to bring a WAG over too, or is that only for the normal lads?”

“Wouldn’t be a WAG, would it?” Neville mutters snobbishly.

He’s right, Jamie supposes. But that’s obviously not something he can admit, so he decides to lean in to the ‘stupid Scouser’ bit. “Why not?”

Neville squints at him suspiciously. “’cause he wouldn’t be a wife or girlfriend, would he?” He clears his throat, looks back down at his bowl. “If he existed, that is. Only brought my dad over for this tournament, does that answer your question?”

“Hmm,” Jamie says, ignoring the obvious cue to leave and taking a seat opposite Neville instead. “What would they call ‘im, if you weren’t a sad lonely old spinster… husbands and boyfriends… HABs? Doesn’t ‘ave quite the same ring to it, does it?”

2013.

“Why’d you never get married?”

Neville – Gary – looks up from his iPad to give Jamie his familiar ‘I can’t tell if you’re having me on or if you’re actually just stupid’ squint. “’s only been legal a few months, give us a break.”

“Civil partnered then, whatever. I don’t get it. You’re rich, you were a footballer. I know you’re ugly but looks don’t really factor into it, if your brother’s marriage is anythin’ to go by.”

Gary scowls at him. “Different measures of attractive when you’re gay. I’ll ‘ave you know men find me quite good looking, actually.”

“Do they fuck,” Jamie snorts, because he’s willing to bet that there isn’t a single man on Earth, gay or otherwise, who finds Gary Neville in his current state attractive. Maybe in his playing days, when he was all lean muscle and intense glares, but not now. “They’re just queuin’ up to get a piece a’yous, are they?”

“Maybe they are. Not that it’s any of your business, but I actually ‘ave a date tonight.”

“And that’s after he’s had a look at you?”

2015.

“Don’t go.”

Gary looks exhausted, pale skin and dark shadows under his eyes. His hair needs a trim, his stubble needs a shave, and he needs to not move to fucking Spain.

“Don’t look so stroppy, Carra. You’re about to become Sky’s number one pundit.”

“Don’t want it. C’mon, Gaz, what’m I gonna do for my Monday mornin’ entertainment without tales of your endless bad dates.”

“Most people just read the news.”

“What’re you gonna do, you’re bad enough at pullin’ as it is without a language barrier makin’ things harder. It’s like you want to spend the next five months celibate.”

“Yer awfully concerned about my personal life, James, for someone who not two weeks ago was tellin’ me that I needed to, and I quote, ‘spend less time thinkin’ about fit men and more on thinkin’ about fit footballers instead.’”

“And I stand by that.”

2016.

Jamie’s changing out of his gym clothes when his conversation with Gary earlier in the week echoes in his mind, the dreamy way Gary had said his arms…

The guy probably doesn’t even train as much as Jamie does, probably just exaggerates because for some reason he’s trying to impress Gary. As if Gary is someone you’d want to impress.

He stands in front of the changing room’s mirror and flexes his bicep, notes with pride the bulging vein that leads up from his elbow. It’s a shame, really, that he has to wear suits when he’s on Sky. He’s sure viewing figures would go up if he was allowed to wear something a little more form fitting, maybe he should pitch it to the wardrobe people.

Gary would probably have a fit, his tends to get in a tizz at the suggestion of any change to the strict set of rules he’s got in his head. Jamie had once tried to wear his suit without a tie (because he’d spilled coffee on the one he’d brought, not that he’d told Gary that), and Gary had screeched at him for a good half an hour about professionalism until he relented and went to wardrobe to find a spare tie he could use.

Imagine if he wore a t-shirt. Gary’s head would probably explode.

All the more reason to do it, really.

#jamie's love language is bullying. obviously.#carraville #drabbles #thanks for the prompt! sorry it took me so long to get to but I am slowly working my way through my inbox again

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minty-mumbles · 1 year

Text

And the Universe Said I Love You (Ch. 1)

Summary: Late one summer night, a half fairy being hunted for their magical blood stumbled into the temple of the gods and claimed sanctuary. Years later, Hyrule is still living in the temple, working to keep it tidy and operating smoothly. And for some reason, the gods have taken a keen interest in them.

AN: I put a list of all the gods and their domains at the end. This was inspired by this prompt

(Read on AO3 )

~~~

“Hail, great mother of the gods, great mistress of the skies. In all ways, I honor your name. I come bearing offerings, in hopes that you will hear my plea...”

Hyrule hummed a pleasant tune as they listened to the prayers of the young boy, who looked to be only eleven or twelve. The boy was across the room from Hyrule, kneeling in front of a statue of the god he was praying to. He was praying to Sky, the god who ruled over divinity, the sky, sleep, and- most importantly in this case- children, among other things.

From what Hyrule could overhear from where they swept the floor in the back of the room, the boy was praying to Sky for the health of his sick younger brother.

It was very sweet, and it was always nice to see younger children come to worship the gods. Usually, it was only the older folks who came to the temple on days that weren’t specifically designated for worship. Hyrule hoped the Sky would grant the boy a blessing, and aid in his brother’s recovery.

“Hear my prayer, oh mother god, and answer. Amen.” The boy dipped his fingers into the bowl of water that sat at the feet of Sky’s statue, and brought his wet fingers to his forehead, one shoulder, the other shoulder, and then back to his forehead. His movements were clumsy and unpracticed, but they served their purpose to form a triangle to symbolize the mark of the triforce. The gesture was a sign of respect toward the gods, and also signaled that his prayers were finished.

The boy rose to his feet, taking one last look at the serene face of the god. The artist who’d carved the statue had depicted Sky kneeling, hands clasped piously in his lap. His eyes were closed and he had a small smile on his face as if he were two seconds away from nodding off.

As the boy turned and walked out, Hyrule finished up their sweeping, following him out of the mother god’s shrine room.

Hylians called Sky the mother god, and they weren’t entirely wrong. Sky had been the first god and had existed long before all the others. Eventually, he’d grown lonely. He’d been tired of the endless sky and storms surrounding him and had started to wish for companionship.

So Sky had created Four, the god of earth and the forges. Four had been the God who had tended the fires at the beginning. He was the one who had forged the world that Hylians lived in today.

And after that, when Sky had gotten bored of time standing still and become tired of nothing growing or changing, he’d created Time, the god of time and the seasons. Time had started the clock ticking, and it had been his hands that induced the turning of the seasons, fall into winter, winter into spring.

And so it went, for most of the gods. When Sky saw a need, he made a new god. Twice, Sky had instead blessed a mortal with divinity, gifting them with godhood. This was how the god of the ocean, Wind, and the god of hearth and hunting, Wild, had risen to power

No one knew why Sky had chosen to bless mortals to create the gods of the wild and the ocean. Usually, Sky crafted the gods from nothing.

Sky didn’t create life like a Hylian would create life. Hyrule didn’t know exactly how it worked, but they imagined that the knowledge was far beyond their comprehension.

Regardless Hyrule thought it was a stretch to call Sky a mother, but the god didn’t seem to mind it. In fact, most of the gods seemed to find the concept of Sky being their mother rather funny. (Hyrule wouldn’t want to be too presumptuous and ask, however. Just because the gods liked him for some unknown reason didn’t mean that he could ask them about things that likely weren't for mortal ears.)

Sky didn’t seem to mind being referred to with feminine terms, either. Gender was a Hylian concept that gods played with occasionally, but never took very seriously. Even the few statues in the temple that portrayed Sky as a woman didn’t seem to bother the god, even though he usually chose a male form when appearing to Hylians.

Of course, most of the general public didn’t know all this information.

Hyrule was just a bit of a special case.

Hyrule and the boy left Sky’s shrine room, pushing aside the fine white silk draped over the doorway to do so. The boy turned left, towards the temple’s exit. Hyrule turned right, toward Warriors’ shrine room. As they walked, they passed an old man and a young mother with an infant strapped to her chest. Standing near the doorway. The old man, seeing that the boy was done with his prayer, entered the room to do his own business there.

The young mother remained hovering nervously by the doorway, not daring to enter while the old man was inside. It was rude to enter a shrine room when someone else was praying. Whatever business they had with the gods was their own.

Again, Hyrule was a special exception to this. As the temple’s keeper, they had to enter the rooms to clean and take care of offerings, so they were exempt from such etiquette.

As they passed the mother and child, Hyrule could see that the mother was very nervous, and seemed to be holding a package wrapped with brown paper and tied with string. A red feather was tucked under the string.

Ah.

She was a new mother, then, coming with an offering to ask for blessings for her baby and future family.

As much as Hyrule wanted to stop and say hello, try to ease the mother’s nerves, and greet the baby, they had work to do. So instead they simply nodded as they passed her, and continued on.

Warriors’ shrine didn’t have anyone waiting outside of it. Secretly, Hyrule hoped that meant it would be empty. Not because they didn’t want Warriors to have worshippers!

It was just… There had been issues recently with some of Warriors’ worshippers.

Instead of silk covering the doorway making the room more open and inviting like Sky’s was, there was a heavy stone door. It had always reminded Hyrule of the gates to the castle in the middle of the city. The door took some effort to open, but Hyrule managed eventually. They slowly entered the dark room, shutting the door behind them.

Instead of the large skylight, silks draped across the walls, and the delicate offerings like feathers and wood carvings that decorated Sky’s shrine, Warrior’s shrine room was dark and almost gloomy. The air inside was still and felt warmer than it should have. The only source of light was the large stained glass window directly behind Wariror’s statues, and a few flickering torches and candles.

The air smelled like smoke from the torches, but underneath that, there was a metallic tang to the air. Some might argue the scent was from the weapons that hung on the walls, but if anyone asked Hyrule- though no one ever did- they would say that it smelled like blood.

It wasn’t the kind of place Hyrule would usually find comfort in. It was too reminiscent of the dark summer nights they’d spent being hunted for their fae blood. The darkness and the scent of blood reminded them too viscerally of the night they’d ran into this temple for the first time.

It had been a last-ditch attempt to find safety. They had asked for sanctuary from the gods, and Hyrule had fully expected the temple doors to remain barred against them. They’d expected to be slain on the temple steps as the uncaring gods looked on.

Hyrule thanked the gods every day that that didn’t happen. Thanked them for letting the doors open and allowing him inside where the hunter wouldn’t dare follow. The gods had granted Hyrule clemency and even allowed them to stay in the temple permanently.

So even though the dark room brought back unpleasant memories, it had never felt oppressive to Hyrule. In fact, it was quite the opposite. There was a protective feeling in the air that made Hyrule relax, knowing no one would hurt them here.

Hyrule was sure that if they sat down in this room, it wouldn't be long before they started nodding off. They wondered if that was the doing of Warriors xemself, trying to make them feel welcome.

Recently though, Hyrule had started to dread coming in to clean Warriors’ shrine during the day. Worshipers were only allowed into the temple to pray during the day, and that was usually when Hyrule cleaned. Recently they had started to think they should clean Warriors’ shrine after hours.

Warriors usually didn’t get as many visitors as the other gods, as was expected for a god of war and battle. But recently, there had been one worshiper who was coming in much more frequently than Hyrule liked.

Specifically because she didn’t bring any offerings…. Besides herself.

Hyrule exhaled heavily when they saw that said worshiper was indeed in the shrine room. She was kneeling at the base of Warriors’ statue, wearing a dress that left very little to the imagination. She didn’t even look away from the god’s statue when Hyrule entered the room. Hyrule turned away, beginning to sweep the floor with their back to her. She, meanwhile, completely ignored them.

Cia… irritated Hyrule. They couldn’t exactly say why besides the fact that she conducted herself with no shame in the temple.

She was a beautiful woman, perhaps even the most beautiful in the city. At least that’s what people said. Hyrule wouldn’t know. They’d never held any love for physical beauty, anyways.

But Cia knew how beautiful she was. Maybe that was why she was willing to keep offering herself to the god even after it became clear xe was rejecting her.

Perhaps that was what irritated Hyrule. She just kept trying. Over and over, even though she must know it wouldn’t work. Either Cia didn’t understand her offering wasn’t pleasing to Warriors, or she simply didn’t care.

Hyrule didn’t know what Cia wanted so badly, but whatever it was, it was ultimately a fool's errand. No matter what she did, she wasn’t going to tempt Warriors into taking her as xyr wife.

The commonly held belief that the gods would take a mortal bride if the person were beautiful enough was only rooted in the stories of liars.

The myth of how Malanya had risen to godhood probably also played a role. But the truth was that she had never been a mortal.

Malon was beautiful, yes, but she had not been a mortal, even before she had become Time’s wife and the goddess of horses. She had been a wood nymph, already an immortal being. That part of the story was lost to time though, so most mortals thought Malon had been mortal and had managed to catch the eye of the god of time.

Hyrule knew this was false. They also knew that gods usually didn’t often interact directly with mortals. Much less take them as brides.

Hyrule pulled a face when they heard a rather breathy sigh from Cia as she finished her first prayer. In any other situation, Hyrule might have been flustered, but now they were just embarrassed for her. Perhaps they should say something. It would save them the ordeal of having to deal with her, and save her the ordeal of coming to the temple so often on a fruitless endeavor.

When Cia paused in between prayers, gathering herself up to start another one, that was when Hyrule spoke. “You should stop trying to gain the god’s favor like that. Stop trying to give yourself as an offering, I mean.”

The sweet smile that had been on Cia’s face the entire time she had been praying turned into an irritated scowl in the blink of an eye. She shot to her feet, turning away from Warriors’ statue to face Hyrule, who only calmly continued with their sweeping.

She sneered “Why? It’s worked for others before-”

It hadn’t, but Cia continued, not giving Hyrule a chance to correct her. Not that they would have, anyway. “Why do you care so much? You aren’t supposed to interfere with the prayers of people who come to the shrines!”

Again, she was incorrect but had no way of knowing that.

The gods had never taken a mortal to tend to any of their temples before. Usually, they employed the help of wood nymphs and forest spirits. Those types of immortals didn’t like to be seen by mortals. They cleaned the temples and dealt with offerings during the night when no one was around to see them. However, being adverse to being seen by mortals meant that they had no recourse to correct inappropriate behaviors from the worshipers.

Hyrule had no such restrictions.

How Hyrule had gained so much favor from the gods that they had offered them protection and a job at the temple was beyond them. But they’d managed it somehow. So now Hyrule kept the temple clean and took care of the offerings the gods didn’t accept. They gave shelter, healing, and protection to those who sought sanctuary at the temple. Along with all of that, though, they were also here to make sure that the actions of the temple-goers were proper.

Prostrating herself in front of the shrines was not proper. Hyrule felt quite certain that Warriors would only feel relief if xe didn’t have to watch Cia do it anymore. Hyrule certainly would. Cia was no doubt a beautiful woman, but it got embarrassing after a point.

Cia huffed when she got no response from Hyrule- who wasn’t even looking at her- and stalked closer. She stepped close enough that Hyrule had to stop sweeping to avoid smacking her ankles with the broom.

“Or you just don't want the gods’ attention on anyone but you? I bet that's the reason they keep you here. Not good enough to take as a wife, but pretty enough to keep around all the same.”

Hyrule ignored the hurtful words and the implications that came with them. They were more than used to such things being insinuated about them by now.

Most people who heard of the gods taking on a mortal to tend to their temple were confused by it.

Hyrule themself was confused about why it had happened, so they didn’t blame other people for their assumptions. Though it did confuse Hyrule that people thought the gods had chosen them because they thought Hyrule was pretty. Hyrule knew they weren’t considered that attractive, so they didn’t know how that line of thinking held up.

Speaking of…

Hyrule wasn’t phased by Cia’s insult, but they did blink in confusion at Cia’s backhanded compliment. No one had ever called them attractive before, let alone pretty. Usually, people called them unique-looking and left it at that. Their fairy blood influenced their appearance a bit too strongly for most people's tastes. They’d been told that their innumerous golden freckles were particularly unnatural and off-putting.

Regardless of her odd compliment, Hyrule was getting sick of Cia. “No. I’m not trying to keep the gods all to myself. I’m trying to warn you before Warriors’ patience wears out and xe curses you.”

An exaggeration- Hyrule doubted Warriors would curse her- but Cia didn’t need to know that.

Cia puffed up at that, her face flushing. Hyrule was honestly kind of impressed. Even angry and looking like she was two seconds away from hitting them, she still managed to look composed and well put together. “How dare you call a god by their true name! They choose you to sweep the dirt out of their temple, so you think you're special?” She hissed venomously. “You need to learn to respect those who are better than you.”

For some funny reason, Hyrule didn’t think that Cia was talking about the gods anymore. Especially not when she raised her hand in the air, open-palmed and ready to strike them.

Her fingers glittered prettily as she swung her hand down. Hyrule let themself get distracted for a split second by the twinkling of the rings that adorned her fingers. They couldn't help themself. Fairies loved sparkly things.

Their distraction lasted only a moment, though. As her hand swung down to strike them, Hyrule’s hand shot up to meet it, grasping her wrist firmly but not harshly.

Hyrule only sighed, exhausted already. Part of this was their fault. They really needed to start referring to the gods by their proper titles while in public. Most of this situation was entirely Cia’s fault, though.

“Cia, I think you should leave.”

“What? No!” She protested, yanking her hand back away from their grasp. They let her. “How dare you! You can’t kick me out, I have every right to be here.”

“You tried to attack me.” Their protest falls on deaf ears. They see her hand raise once more, and they prepare themself to catch it a second time.

Gods, couldn’t they catch a break?

Perhaps invoking the gods- even in just their head- while also being in one of their shrine rooms was a bit of a mistake. Before Cia could even start to bring her hand down again, her wrist was caught, but this time it wasn’t Hyrule who grabbed her.

Both of them were startled, and Cia spun around to face the newcomer who had seemingly appeared out of nowhere.

The stranger was difficult to look at. Neither one of them had noticed that Warriors’ statue had started glowing over the course of their argument, but it was indeed glowing. Golden light played along the statue’s features, lighting up the room much better than the stained glass window did. It had become so bright that it was difficult to make out the features of the person who was haloed by the light.

But Hyrule already knew who it was.

It took Cia a few moments, but as her eyes darted from the person’s face- a perfect mimic of the war god’s statue- to the statue itself, and then back again, and Hyrule was sure she had figured it out.

Hyrule was more than accustomed to seeing such a glow, but Cia remained silent and trembling. Hyrule could tell she was terrified. Not that they really blamed her. Warriors could be terrifying when xe wanted to.

When xe spoke, xyr voice rolled through the room like the distant sounds of an approaching thunderstorm. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. It wouldn’t end well for you if you try to assault one so favored by the gods.” Distantly, Hyrule could feel the deadly pressure building in the room, but it wasn’t meant for them. They knew that Cia could feel it much more directly.

Cia wavered for a moment, before yanking her hand out of Warriors' grip. Xe let her go easily. She ran from the room, looking very frazzled and more than a little afraid.

The figure in front of Hyrule paused for a moment to insure she was really gone, then the light slowly faded away. Soon the figure- looking less godly but still exactly like xyr statue- stood in front of them without an unnatural backlight.

“Hello, Warriors.” Hyrule greeted politely, hoping that the god wouldn’t make a big deal out of the incident. Thankfully, Warriors didn’t seem to think that one mortal was that big of a deal, even if she had tried to hit Hyrule.

Xe smiled, greeting Hyrule, then turned to look at their altar. Cia hadn’t brought anything with her, as per usual, but there were a few offerings from earlier in the day. A small knife with a wooden handle, a gleaming golden apple, and an unfortunate scrap of fabric that looked like it was stained with blood.

An offering like the fabric usually meant that the worshiper had a loved one who was off at war or had died in battle. Someone had been here, praying either for their loved one’s safe return, or for their safe passage to the god of the ocean. Wind was the one who guided souls into the afterlife.

Hyrule couldn’t make heads or tails of the other offerings, but Warriors would know what the worshippers had asked for.

Warriors frowned as xe leaned over the table, fingers fluttering over the offerings. The knife and the scrap of fabric disappeared, while the golden apple remained untouched. That offering had been rejected, and the worshiper’s prayer would not be answered. Hyrule would have to clear the shrine of the rejected offering, but they could do that later. It would be a little rude to take the offering from Warriors’ shrine when xe was standing right there.

When Warriors turned back to them, Hyrule asked, “Are you sure you should be here?”

Warriors waved away their concern. “Relax, It’s getting late and it’s almost time for the temple to close. No one will see us. And if anyone does,” Here, xe paused and grinned, xyr features twisting and warping slightly as xe did so. Xyr formal clothes also melted away, turning into a more normal-looking outfit, although xe did keep the scarf.

Xe was still recognizably Warriors, especially to Hyrule who spent a lot of time around xem and knew xyr appearance. But anyone else who saw the god wouldn’t be able to match xyr features to the statue that loomed behind xem.

It was always disconcerting to Hyrule when they were reminded that their friends didn’t truly look the way Hyrule thought they did, but they brushed it off. Hyrule would never be able to witness the gods’ true forms. Hyrule was mortal. Witnessing the gods’ divinity in its pure form would burn their eyes out, and they would rather avoid that fate.

“See? No one will recognize me.” Xe continued, satisfied. “It’s the same as we usually do, yes?”

“Hmmm, yes,” Hyrule agreed. “Sorry, I was just worried about Cia.”

Warriors snorted in derision but sounded more amused than anything. “You shouldn’t worry about her. It’s not like she can do any true harm.”

Hyrule rolled their eyes. “No true harm except to me,” they complained. “What if she says something? Her family is rich, you know. If she decides she wants retribution for her embarrassment, she can easily come after me.”

Warriors waved off their concern. “I doubt she’ll be back anytime soon, and I doubt she’ll say anything. No one would dare touch you. You're under our protection. We wouldn’t let you tend to our temple if you weren’t.”

This was true enough.

For all that people were baffled that the gods had chosen a mortal to tend to their temples, most people left Hyrule alone. People were fearful of the gods’ wrath if they messed with Hyrule.

Hyrule was glad. They liked living in the peace and quiet of the temple, and they loved not being bothered. It was a stark contrast from the time when Hyrule would constantly be harassed and even hunted because of their obviously fairy features.

But just because Hyrule loved peace and quiet, that didn’t mean they didn’t have room for some chaos in their life, and the gods were more than adept at providing that.

~~~

Hyrule sighed deeply from where they were standing in the doorway of their small room, their hands on their hips.

This room- which more than likely had originally been a storage closet- had been theirs for the past several years. It was small, yes, but it was home. A bed tucked into the corner, a chest to store their clothing sitting at the foot of it, and a small personal shrine was all the furniture in the room.

And currently there was one more addition to the room: a wolf laying in their bed like it belonged there.

“If this is why I keep getting dog hair in my sheets?” Hyrule tries to keep a stern expression on their face as they scold the wolf. Given the way the wolf lifted his head to look at them and then promptly started wagging his tail, Hyrule wasn’t successful.

“Twilight.” Hyrule stresses, which only causes the wolf to roll over on his back and show his tummy. He was doing an excellent imitation of a shit-eating grin as he stared at Hyrule, even though he was currently a wolf and wolves could not grin.

A wolf, and laying in Hyrule’s bed.

If Hyrule wasn’t so acutely familiar with the god, they would be terrified out of their wits. As it was, they were more than used to situations like this. The gods usually took up Hylian forms, but some of them liked to take the forms of animals sometimes. Twilight, as the god of animals, was one of those, and he was particularly fond of canine forms.

Hyrule had gotten more than used to random dogs in the temple.

After another few seconds of silence from Hyrule, the wolf raised his head to look at them. It made no move to get off their bed. Hyrule contemplated him, but eventually decided trying to get Twilight off the bed was too much work. They were tired from the day, and wanted rest.

They flopped down onto the bed and partially on top of the wolf. Twilight chuffed at them, but still made no move to leave. Hyrule took it as a sign Twilight wasn’t actually uncomfortable with Hyrule laying on top of him. They buried their face in his fur, and closed their eyes.

In no time at all, Hyrule was asleep, curled up next to the divine beast.

~~~

“Will you take me to the festival? Please?” Wind’s eyes were big and watery as he begged Hyrule to bring him with them.

It was late autumn, which meant it was time for the harvest festival, when people gathered together to celebrate a successful summer and a bountiful harvest. The past few years- ever since Hyrule had come to stay at the temple actually- had seen particularly generous harvests. This year had only continued the trend.

Once the harvest was finished, the farmers and craftspeople from surrounding towns would gather in the city to sell their wares. They also came to give thanks to the gods at the temple. For some, it was the only time of the year they managed to make it into the city, and the only time they were able to pay respect to the gods.

As the god of the seasons and by extension, the harvest, worship for Time skyrocketed during harvest festivals. Twilight, although he was mainly the god of the night, day, and the moon and sun, was also the god of animals which meant he was worshiped more during this time as well.

So the temple was busy at this time of year. Time and Twilight got plenty of attention, but the other gods got their fair share as well. Because of the influx of worshipers, Hyrule always has more work than usual to do. That meant they hadn’t had much time to enjoy the festival itself in the last few years. It always felt like a waste to go galavanting off to have fun when they had a job to do.

This year though, the gods seemed to think that Hyrule was overworking themself. Legend had visited last night, needling Hyrule until they begrudgingly agreed to take a break from their duties. He had even slipped a small purse of rupees into Hyrule’s hands. They had tried to return the purse, but Legend had glared at them into submission.

Hyrule had to admit that there was little chance that anything would go wrong in their absence. The temple had always run smoothly without a mortal attendant before Hyrule had arrived, even during festivals. It would survive without them for a few hours.

That was why Hyrule was preparing to go to the festival now. They had no doubt that Legend had sent Wind to insure Hyrule was actually taking a break and annoy them into doing so if it were necessary.

“Uh, are you sure going into the city is the best idea?” Hyrule asked the young god. Not that Hyrule was opposed to Wind’s company! The young god could be strange at times, like all the gods, but he was still fun to be around. It was just… Well, most of the gods weren’t the best at pretending to be mortals.

Wind seemed to understand exactly what Hyrule was getting at, and he scoffed. “Oh, please! I used to be mortal before I was a god, you know. I’m a lot better at blending in than the others are. You don’t have to worry about me.”

When he saw that Hyrule was still reluctant but had started to soften their resolve, Wind grabbed their hand. He looked up at them with big watery eyes and went for the kill. “Please?” His voice was softer now as he pleaded. ”I kinda miss it. Festivals like this remind me of my mortal family. And the other gods don't want me wandering around without supervision,” An irritated look flickered over Wind’s face, “Which is dumb because I’m literally a god. I can handle myself!”

And yep, Hyrule couldn’t say no to that face. It just wasn’t possible. (They also didn’t want to start the argument that, yes, Wind was a god and could take care of himself, but most of the time he looked like a thirteen year old. That put a target on his back, especially when he was wandering alone. It was better to let the older gods try and convince Wind of that. It wasn’t really Hyrule’s place.)

“Fine,” Hyrule allowed. They continued before Wind could celebrate too much. “If you do anything weird, I’m telling Time. No stealing either.” That caused Wind to deflate a little, but he still looked more than pleased with being allowed to tag along.

Hyrule turned away to get themself ready. They pulled on their cloak to hide their features and not draw attention to themself, and grabbed a basket to carry their purchases. Meanwhile, Wind sat nearby, swinging their legs back and forth absently.

After ensuring that their money pouch was tied securely to their belt, they turned to Wind. “Okay,” Hyrule said. “I’m all set. Are you ready to go?”

“Yep!” Wind replied, hopping down from his chair.

As he did so, he changed.

His form shifted and warped until instead of a blonde teenage boy in front of them, it was a young girl- probably eight or nine- with curly chocolate brown hair that fell untamed down their back. Bright green eyes shone up at Hyrule from under their curly bangs. They even had a smattering of golden freckles across their nose. In short, they looked like a spitting image of Hyrule themself, when they had been younger.

Wind skipped forward, grabbing Hyrule’s hand. He looked like a perfect example of innocence. “There! We look like sisters! Now no one will look twice at us.” Wind sounded proud of himself for the disguise.

Hyrule felt their breath stutter involuntarily, feeling like they’d just been punched in the chest. All of Hyrule’s sisters in real life had been immortal, having taken after their fairy mother. Hyrule had been the only one who’d taken after their mortal father.

Was this what it would have looked like if they had a little sister? If they had had some small piece of their family they could have clung to? All of Hyrule’s sisters had stayed with their mother when Hyrule had to set out from home. Hyrule’s eyes started to mist over as they looked into Wind’s big green eyes. Was this what it would have been like if they had a little sister they could’ve held onto during those long lonely nights?

Wind looked regretful when he saw Hyrule was close to crying. “If you want, I can turn back!” He exclaims worriedly, tugging on where he was hanging on to Hyrule’s hand.

“No,” Hyrule denied. “You’re fine. You don’t have to turn back.” Their voice sounded a little fragile. Wind didn't protest. He didn’t try to herd Hyrule towards the temple’s door either, letting Hyrule continue to hold him. Hyrule also didn’t try to get the two of them moving, despite the fact they were losing daylight.

The two of them stayed where they were for a while, standing together. Wind continued to hold onto Hyrule’s hand and lean into their legs. Hyrule hesitantly put their free hand into Wind’s hair. When Wind didn’t protest, they ran their fingers through Wind’s curls gently.

Hyrule eventually sniffled, shifting away from Wind. “Alright. I guess we should head out if we want to get to the market before it gets too busy.”

No one glanced twice at the pair of them as they walked down the steps of the temple and into the market square, which set Hyrule’s heart at ease. They must really look like siblings.

Although it wasn’t even noon, the market was already decently busy, and Hyrule knew it would only get busier as the day wore on. Most of the square was taken up by stalls, some of which were already open to serve the early morning crowd. One small section was taken up by vendors selling hot food made to order, and one corner of the square was dominated by festival games.

Wind didn’t seem to have any preference on where to go, although he made some not-so-subtle hints about visiting the confectioner’s stall at some point. Hyrule decided it would be best to visit the stalls first, before it got too crowded, and they could go find something to eat later in the morning.

It was nice to just blend into the crowd and browse what goods were on sale. No one looked twice at the two of them, and even if they had wanted to, the crowd ensured anyone who caught sight of the pair's golden freckles and took issue with it would quickly lose sight of the two of them.

The pair passed by a leather worker’s stall with only a cursory glance. Hyrule didn’t need any leather goods today. And if they did need to buy something, they could buy it at a lower price at a later date. Merchants always upped the price of their goods at festival time. With demand being so high, Hyrule couldn’t blame them, but some things just weren’t worth it.

The next stall they passed smelled heavenly, and Hyrule didn’t use that word lightly. The temple was nearly always filled with the scent of incense and flowers, so Hyrule was more than used to smelling good. At this point, the scent of incense had seeped into their clothing and hung around Hyrule even when they left the temple.

But the smell from this stall gave them pause anyway. It was a warm scent, like spiced cider on a cold winter evening. It was nothing like the incense that burned inside the temple.

The stall was selling bottles of shampoo and conditioner, bars of soap, and even some bottles of perfume. Hyrule paused at the stall, eyeing the soap bars consideringly. The bar Hyrule was currently using was getting kind of small, so they did need to buy a new one sometime soon.

It was festival time, after all. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to spend a little on a new one. And whatever scent they were smelling was worth splurging a little on.

It didn’t take long for Hyrule to flag down the merchant and get their hands on one of the bars of soap. It took a bit of haggling to get the price down to a more reasonable level. The merchant wrapped the soap up in paper, thanking them for their purchase. Hyrule smiled at him, turned around to find Wind so they could move on, and their smile slid off their face

When they turned around, Wind was nowhere to be seen. Hyrule choked down their initial panic. Just because Wind was no longer clinging to them didn’t mean the god had somehow managed to get himself into trouble in the five minutes Hyrule was distracted. Not that Wind wasn’t capable of finding trouble in that amount of time, but hopefully he hadn’t.

Hyrule almost missed the small blue-clad figure as their eyes skimmed over the crowd. They did a double take when they spotted Wind- still in the form of a young child- making very rude gestures that a child as young as Wind appeared to be should not know.

Hyrule choked, hurrying over to Wind. They caught his hands in theirs and yanked them down. “What are you doing? Are you trying to cause a scene?” Hyrule hissed quietly at Wind, who seemed completely unapologetic. Hyrule turned to try and see who Wind had been flipping off.

But when they turned around, they saw no one Wind could have been gesturing at. There was a throng of people surrounding them, but none of them were paying any attention to Wind.

Looking back at Wind, Hyrule saw he wasn’t even looking at any of the people in the crowd around them, but glaring upwards. Following his gaze, they saw a little red bird, probably a cardinal, perched on top of a nearby noticeboard.

Hyrule blinked in confusion, looking back down at Wind. They almost opened their mouth to ask why Wind was flipping off a bird, but then their head whipped back around to stare at the creature.

It was a red bird, it was staring at Wind and Hyrule in particular, and it was a bird that Wind seemed to be intimately familiar with.

With those facts in mind, Hyrule squeezed Wind’s hand and tugged him away in the direction of the rest of the stalls. Their lips were pressed tightly together to keep themself from laughing.

“You know,” Hyrule started casually after a moment of silent walking, “You probably shouldn’t be flipping off the god of divinity himself.” They didn’t worry about anyone overhearing them. The crowd was thick, and a stranger’s odd conversation wouldn’t draw any attention. Even if it did draw attention, they were moving through the crowd and would be gone before anyone tried to listen in.

Wind pouted, stomping his feet a little. He looked exactly like a grumpy little kid throwing a tantrum, and Hyrule had to suppress another laugh. “That’s not even Sky! It’s just his stupid messenger bird.”

Hyrule hummed understandingly, and pulled them to a stop so they could inspect a display containing a rainbow of different yarns and threads. Their spare tunic had gotten a hole in it, and Hyrule was out of thread. They should buy some more. “I thought you liked Crimson? I’ve met her and she seems nice.”

Wind grew quiet, almost sulking. “It’s not that I don’t like her- especially not when she’s in a smaller form like that. Her bigger forms kind of freak me out, it's not natural- But Legend asked me to come to the festival with you-”

I knew it, Hyrule thought, locating some shades of green thread that were pretty similar to his tunic color. The tunic that had a hole in it was the same shade as the one they were wearing now, so they used it to compare colors.

Wind kept talking. “-And it feels like Sky won’t even trust me with this one thing! I can take care of you! I don’t need my own babysitter!”

“Hey now,” Hyrule protested. “I don’t need a babysitter either. I’d be just fine on my own.”

Wind huffed. “It’s not the same. You’re so fragile. I’m a literal-”

Hyrule’s heart skipped a beat in dread, and they acted quickly. Before Wind could continue, Hyrule shoved the two spools of thread they’d been contemplating into Wind’s face and asked, “Which shade of green do you think matches my tunic the best?”

Wind shot him a nasty look for the interruption, but Hyrule only lifted an eyebrow at him, unimpressed. Wind rolled his eyes and pointed to the one on the left.

”Careful what you say.” Hyrule whispered warningly. People might not listen in on the conversation of others here, but that wasn’t any reason for Wind to go around declaring to all and sundry that he was a god.

“Whatever.” Wind said, rolling his eyes. “You know what I mean. You’re not even two decades old yet. You’re young.” Wind stressed his last word, and Hyrule tried not to feel a little insulted. What Wind was saying was true, from his point of view. Hyrule wasn’t even twenty yet, although at nineteen, they were close. To a god such as Wind, who’d lived for millennia, they would be incredibly young.

Instead, Hyrule only said, “You’re young too, you know.” They waved over the merchant and paid for their thread, tucking it into their basket with the soap.

“I’m not even the youngest!” Wind protested hotly as they moved away from the stall. He was flushed in anger that, frankly, just looked adorable in his current form. If this was how Hyrule looked when they were angry when they were hung, they don’t know how their mother ever took them seriously. “Wild and Wars are both younger than me!”

Hyrule lets the conversation trail off after that, as Wind starts telling stories about how adorable Wild and Wars had been as new gods, back when they were unsure of themselves and unused to their powers. Wind was right- he’d been made into a god before Sky had needed to create Warriors, and long before Wild had even been born a mortal.

Hyrule didn’t know exactly why Wind was considered to be the youngest of the gods. The way gods aged was strange though, sometimes not even following a linear pattern. It was further complicated by the fact that they could appear to be whatever age they wanted to be.

Hyrule thinks they might have heard Warriors mention that Wind was the youngest because he had still been a child when he’d been turned into a god. He hadn’t had the chance to grow normally. Hyrule could understand that dying and becoming a god might stunt that sort of development.

Wind had to grow up as a god, which took a lot longer. Sky had created the other gods in the form of teenagers, and Wild had at least been of age when he’d been given godhood.

So while Wind might have been alive longer than Warriors and Wild, he was still mentally the youngest, and treated as such by mortals and gods alike.

Hyrule was pulled out of their thoughts by tugging on their hand, which slowly led them away from the direction they’d been walking. Wind was steering the two of them slowly but surely over towards the confectioner’s stall.

Hyrule snorted when they realized what he was doing, and dragged Wind back on course. In his current form, there was no way Wind could overpower Hyrule, so he resorted to pouting at them. Hyrule chuckle at that.

“Come on. We have to at least get lunch first before we have dessert.”

The pair wandered the festival until they found a nice stall that was selling meat pies. Hyrule paid, despite Wind’s protests. “What are people going to think when they see me making my little sister pay for her own food?” Hyrule said. Wind opened his mouth to protest but shut it again, seemingly not having a response to that.

If Hyrule’s money pouch somehow suddenly felt as heavy as it had before they paid for the food, they said nothing. They had told Wind not to steal, but they didn’t think reverse pickpocketing Hyrule themself counted. Hyrule would just have to pay Wind back somehow. Maybe a nice offering tonight in the temple after the crowds left.

The two of them ate as they walked and people watched. This time, when Wind subtly tried to steer their direction to the sweets stall, Hyrule let him.

The stall was already being browsed by a family with three young children when they reach it, and Wind and Hyrule join them in looking at the selection. Wind only had eyes for the honey candy, but Hyrule took a bit more time sorting through what was available. Being part fairy, they had more of a sweet tooth than most, and they couldn’t help but spend more of Legend’s rupees on candy than they’d intended.

They managed to buy a small package of sea salt taffy without Wind noticing. They hid it beneath the package of soap in their basket. Tonight, they could place it on Wind’s altar to repay the god for the food Wind had refused to let them pay for. Honey candies flavored with blueberry syrup joined the taffy, to be tucked away for a rainy day. To munch on now, Hyrule ends up buying a bag of chocolate-coated nuts.

The chocolate was sweet on their tongue as they and Wind wander through the rest of the fair. It's well past noon by now, and things were starting to get busy. People throng tightly around them. Hyrule would feel crowded, but every time they started to feel anxious, Wind squeezed their hand tightly, as if he could sense their turmoil.

He probably could.

The reminder of the protection the god offered soothed Hyrule a great deal, and they managed to push away their anxieties.

Eventually, the two end up wandering around the second of the market set aside for

There’s a dunk tank set up nearby. Wind pays for three tries to hit the target. He doesn’t succeed, and that alone told Hyrule that he wasn’t really trying. But his gleeful giggles make Hyrule’s heart squeeze, and they smile at the god’s joy. It’s more than infectious.

They don’t see any games they're interested in paying themself. Most of these games Hyrule can guarantee are rigged, and the prizes usually aren’t of interest to them.

That was until something sparkled in the sun out of the corner of their eyes.

It was a small necklace. A small blue stone was set in the center of it, glittering attractively in the sunlight. Silver filigree filled with green-tinted glass created tiny wings surrounding the stone, mimicking fairies wings.

That. Hyrule wanted that. They know it was their fairy blood that made them want it so badly. (The irony of the necklace being in the shape of a fairy was not lost on them.) Everyone knew that fairies were attracted to shiny objects. Even half-fae like Hyrule were affected by that particular biological quirk.

The necklace hung on a peg inside one of the many game booths, a prize for one of the shooting games where you were given a small bow and three arrows, and targets popped up that you had to attempt to hit.

Hyrule didn’t even wear jewelry, most of the time. But the necklace sparkled so prettily in the sunlight they couldn’t take their eyes off it. They tried to caution themself. The game was probably rigged, and they're not that great a marksman anyways.

But Hyrule wanted that sparkly necklace, and by the gods, they were going to try to get it.

It took them three tries before they finally gave up. They eyed the necklace with longing, but their purse was starting to feel a little bit too light for their liking, and Wind was starting to look impatient.

The man running the stall offered the bow back to Hyrule for them to try again, but they gave a polite smile and shook their head.

A sudden voice coming from behind them made them startle. Wind remained nonplussed. “Here, let me try.” The voice was familiar, and Hyrule was both surprised and not to turn around and see Four standing behind them. They are a bit surprised to see Time, though. The god wasn’t really the kind of person that liked festivals.

But on the other hand, this festival was dedicated to Time. If there was a festival dedicated to Hyrule, they’d want to go out and see it, even if they didn’t like crowds. So maybe it shouldn't be a surprise to see the older god out and about.

He looked much less stressed than the last time Hyrule saw him. The harvest was over, and Time could return to his usual duties until next year. Hyrule was glad. Time always seemed like he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders during harvest season.

The game master was more than happy to take Four’s rupees. Only once the man disappeared behind the back of the booth to operate the targets did Four turn to Hyrule with a wink.

As Hyrule expected, Four was able to hit a target on their first try. Wind rolled his eyes. “Show off,” he complained but didn’t look all that bothered. Time, who seemed unimpressed and uninterested in watching Four demonstrate their archery skills, clapped Hyrule on the back with a nod, and then wandered off in the direction of the Temple.

“That’s hardly showing off.” Four insisted. Suddenly, their eyes flickered, a deep blue color flooding their irises. Their hair color shifted ever-so-slightly to become more of a strawberry blonde than true golden as it’d been before, and Hyrule swore the god was an inch or two shorter than they were before.

Hyrule twitched, but after spending a certain amount of time around the god of the four elemental spirits, you start to get used to sudden appearance changes. This time the change wasn’t even as dramatic as it usually was. Four had kept the change rather subtle compared to what they usually did when one of the elemental spirits decided to surface.

Four’s eyes had gained a competitive glint. “This is showing off.” Their next arrow not only hit the same target they had struck before, but it split the previous arrow they’d landed on that target. The last arrow once again landed on the same target, splitting the second arrow.

Four turned to Wind with a smirk. “How about that, then?”

Wind rolled his eyes. “Anyone could do that.” Hyrule resisted telling him that not everyone could do that. Not everyone was an immortal god who had eons to hone their skills.

When the game master returned from behind the curtain, his mouth dropped open at the sight of the perfect bullseye and the two split arrows.

“O- oh,” He stammered, eyeing Four- who still had a slightly dangerously competitive gleam in their eye- warily. “That’s very impressive, kid. Well, I suppose you can choose any prize you like.”

Four turned to Hyrule, waving an offering hand. Hyrule, not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, gestured towards the necklace.

The gamemaster, still looking a bit baffled, shook his head in disbelief, but pulled down the necklace from where it hung on its peg, and handed it over to Hyrule. They wasted no time clipping it around their neck. They grinned stupidly at the necklace, flicking it back and forth across their chest to make the light dance along the glass of the wings.

When they looked back up, Four had already vanished. Maybe literally, or perhaps they’d simply wandered away in the crowd. Wind, inpatient, wasted no time in dragging Hyrule away from the still gawking game master.

Later that night, after giving an offering to both Wind and Four’s shrines, Hyrule lay curled up in his bed. Maybe it hadn’t been a waste to go to the festival after all.

~~~

The temple of the gods that Hyrule served was located in Castle Town, the capital city of Hyrule. Castle Town was notoriously hard to invade. As far as Hyrule knew, no one who tried to lay siege on the city had ever been successful.

The Great Sea lay to the east of the city, allowing the city to get supplies during a siege. Sprawling docks and beaches made up the eastern side of the city. Under the tutelage of the ocean god, Hyruleans had become masters of the sea, both above and below the waves, in the case of the Zora (Worship for Wind was, unsurprisingly, more popular in that part of the city.)

To the south the land became more arid, the landscape past the city slowly shifting from forest to a large desert. It was impossible to traverse unless you knew the right routes to travel and had the correct supplies. Invading countries who tried to cross the desert had to carry their own supplies and bring enough water for a whole army. They very rarely made it very far.

Out west, a mountainous landscape gave shelter from potential invaders. Death mountain oozed lava across the southern half of the mountain range. The lava and heat made it impossible to cross to everyone except the Gorons.

In short, Castle Town was an impenetrable fortress of a city. It offered safety to those who lived there. The citizens of Hyrule were more than used to the natural barriers that offered them protection and knew how to harness them. They knew the dangers and how to minimize them.

That was, besides the Lost Woods. The Lost Woods was kind to no one who carried pure mortal blood, Hyrulean or not. The nymphs and other forest spirits that lived there didn’t like to be seen by mortals.

Those who entered the woods brought with them thick fog that confused their senses. The Skullkids would dance through the mist, giggling and disorienting the mortals. If they were lucky, mortals would stumble out a few days later, exhausted and starving but ultimately fine. Those who weren’t so lucky never came out at all, remaining in the woods forever, becoming a wandering lost soul.

Those who’d survived the woods told tales of it being a dark and haunted place, unwelcoming and horrifying.

To Hyrule, the woods were home. They were technically mortal, yes, but their fairy blood gave them a bit of a pass. They might not have inherited their mother’s immortality or fairy form, but they had still been born in these woods. The forest recognized them as one of its own, even if they were mortal. To Hyrule, the forest was never hostile. The nymphs and spirits were shy but didn’t hide away from Hyrule as they did from other mortals. The Skullchildren left them alone besides trying to goad them into an occasional game of hide and seek.

Hyrule’s mother’s fairy fountain lay safe, deep within the trees. She still resided there with their immortal sisters. Hyrule visited sometimes, but the visits were almost always brief and strained. The chasm that had been created when their mother realized Hyrule was mortal had only grown since Hyrule had left the safety of the fountain to strike out on their own.

But even if they could never truly go back to how it was when they were a child, the forest still welcomed them with open arms, magic reaching out and twinging around them. They had grown up here, and the forest knew that.

Their ability to enter the forest made them popular with the apothecaries in Castle Town. Usually, the doctors and potion brewers who wanted to harvest magical plants had to creep along the outer edges of the forest to do so, all while remaining cautious of the ever-present fog.

If the mist started to creep in too much or the whispers of the skullkids became too loud, they knew they’d wandered too far in. It was a delicate balance between getting the plants they need, and not becoming trapped

Hyrule’s fairy blood allowed them to freely pass through the woods and collect as many of the needed plants as they wanted, and they were more than happy to do so, and sell them to the apothecary shops. For a price, of course. This was how they got most of their money. Their jobs at the temple were paid in room, board, and protection from the gods.

That was what they were doing today. It was a sunny day, but the sun’s warmth was cut by a brisk wind that blew between the trees. It was getting a little late in the afternoon, but they still had plenty of time before they had to start heading back.

Hyrule shivered and drew their cloak tighter around them to block out the chill. They were crouched at the base of a gnarled old apple tree, picking a few stems off of a cluster of warm safflina. They were careful not to take too much of it, leaving enough of the blooms for the plant to thrive. They had to be cautious not to over-harvest if they wanted the safflina to continue to flourish in this part of the forest. They tucked the safflina into their foraging pouch, standing up to move on to find another plant.

A sudden rustling from the tree above made them startle slightly, but they dismissed it as a bird or squirrel, or maybe even a curious skullkid. They hadn’t even taken two steps before they were proven wrong. A louder rustle this time followed by a gloopy-sounding thud sounding from behind them, and they whirled around to see what had fallen from the tree.

It was an electric chuchu, glowing a sickly yellow in the shadow of the trees. The creature gurgled for a moment, bugling green eyes locked onto Hyrule. Instinctively, Hyrule took a few stumbling steps backwards to get out of its immediate shock range.

If it had been a regular chu, Hyrule would have probably dealt with it themself. Chuchus, as a general rule, weren't that dangerous. Anyone with a knife could deal with them, as long as they were quick enough to avoid getting trapped in their acidic ooze.

Electric chuchus, on the other hand, were much more dangerous to the average Hylian. Their shocks were the real danger, making them able to paralyze their victims. Those who got caught by the electricity remained conscious but unable to move. By the time the chuchu’s victims regained movement in their limbs, they were usually halfway dissolved and well on their way to becoming the slime’s dinner.

Hyrule shuddered. The forest might love them, but there were still dangers in the woods, who didn’t care if Hyrule had fairy blood in them or not. Personally, they thought that was one of the worst ways to go. Forced to watch in terror as you were sucked into a chuchu’s slime, but unable to so much as scream for help.

It was somewhat easier to deal with electric chuchus if you had a ranged weapon like a spear or bow. Unfortunately, all Hyrule had brought with them was a small metal knife. Even if they managed to land a hit on the chuchu, the electricity coursing through the metal would cause them to drop their weapon, which would be the last thing they wanted.

Hyrule turned to run, a bolt of pure fear shooting through them. Chuchus were slow, but when they were close to their prey they could put on terrifying bursts of speed. And for eclectic chuchus, those bursts of speed came with waves of paralyzing electricity coursing through the ground. They could hear the gurgling sound of the chuchu getting ready to spring them before they had made it more than a few steps.

Hyrule eyes squeezed shut. Was this how they were going to die? Alone out in the forest, destined to become a skeleton stripped clean by a chuchu’s acid. Hysterically, they thought that at least their remains would be returned to nature when they died, and not burned like Hylians tended to do with their dead.

Just as the sizzling behind them grew to a crescendo and Hyrule was expecting to get hit with a wave of electricity, there was another sound of rustling above them.

Another chuchu in the trees? Oh gods, no-

But what followed wasn’t the wet sound of another chuchu landing on the floor. There was a whoosh of something falling from the tree, a loud pained gurgle, and then silence. When they had run a good distance away, and no electricity overcame them, Hyule slowed down cautiously, taking a quick look behind them.

It hadn't, in fact, been another chuchu. It had been Wild.

Hyrule slowed to a complete stop, staring in shock at the god. He was crouched in the middle of the remains of the chuchu. His back was to Hyrule, so they couldn't see what Wild was doing, but that long blonde hair and scarred ear peeking out of it was unmistakable.

A sword- still dripping with sparking goo- was slung on his back. The blade seemed unaffected by the acid, leaving it as clean as ever when it dripped off. Hyrule didn’t have to ask to know who forged that blade. No mortal smith could have made a blade like that. At least not without the blessing of the god of forges.

Hyrule pressed a hand to their chest, feeling their racing heart. They let out a slow and steady breath as they tried to calm themself. Their legs felt weak. They offered a silent but honest prayer to Wild for the protection given to them.

That seemed to catch Wild’s attention from whatever they were doing with the chuchu jelly. He looked up, sending a mischievous smile at Hyrule. “No need to thank me. It wasn’t a big deal, it was just a chuchu.”

“Well, still,” Hyrule protested, walking back over towards the god. “I’m pretty sure you just saved my life. So thank you.”

Wild didn’t respond to that. His attention had wandered away, as it often did. He seemed distracted by something up in the tree above, pulling himself upward by a low-hanging branch. Hyrule left him to it. Worrying over the wild god never got anyone anywhere. He would do what he wanted to, and it's not like falling out of the tree would actually hurt him.

Hyrule took a seat below the tree. They were more than rattled by their encounter with the chuchu, and not willing to wander too far away from Wild just yet. They would wait until WIld came back down again.

After a few moments of Wild moving about in the leaves, he called down to Hyrule, His voice sounded slightly wistful. “I wish your fairy blood had won out over your mortal parentage.”

Hyrule blinked at the seeming non sequitur but didn’t bother about it too much. Wild was scatterbrained on the best of days. One could never know how a conversation with him would go. If you wanted to keep up with him, you had to be ready to change topics at a moment's notice.

When Wild saw Hyrule had stopped to sit, he dropped out of the tree. When he landed, he was crouched on all fours like a lithe cat. For a moment, Hyrule swore Wild’s eyes glowed a bright teal as he looked up at them.

Then they blinked and the moment was gone. Wild flopped dramatically over Hyrule’s lap, handing them an apple he had picked from the tree. Hyrule, more than used to Wild’s lack of respect for the concept of personal space, simply hummed.

“I would’ve liked to have your company when I go out hunting,” Wild admitted. “You’re fun to hang out with. A lot more fun than some of the old nymphs can be. They’re always complaining about Hylians encroaching on their territory. It’s not like I can actually do anything about it, though! Forest spirits already have the Lost Woods, I can’t claim any more land in their name.”

It was commonly said among the gods that Hyrule should have been born a fairy, not a mortal. Hyrule couldn’t bring themself to be offended by it. They couldn't even say they disagreed, necessarily. They especially couldn’t disagree with what Wild had said. Being a part of the Wild Hunt sounded fun.

They didn’t often get to hang out with Wild. He was the god that Hyrule saw the least of. He was somewhat willing to enter the city, and therefore didn’t come to visit the temple often.

Maybe they could convince Wild to let them join the Hunt, just for a few hours. They probably wouldn't be able to keep up, not without the wings that true immortal fairies were blessed with, but it would be enjoyable all the same.

For now though, they could settle for relaxing under the tree with Wild, happily munching on the apples he had picked.

~~~

The Pantheon:

Sky: God of the sky, divinity, sleep, and children (The first god, Mother of the gods)

Four: (They/Them) God of the four elemental spirits, and the forge. (They created the world out of the endless cloudy void Sky had been living in. The void is now the realm of the gods, the world is now the realm of the mortals)

Time: God of time, the seasons, the harvest/farming (He began the turning of the seasons)

Twilight: God of the night/day, animals, and the sun/moon/stars (He created the stars, planets, moon, and sun, and helped populate the world with animals)

Legend: God of myths, adventure, and music (He worked together with Twilight to create mortals. He also helped create the constellations)

Wind: God of the ocean and the dead (He helped deal with the overpopulation of mortals. Psychopomp. Started out as a mortal)

Warriors: (Xe/Xem/Xyr) God of war, strategy, and battle, (Also a psychopomp, but only to the effect that xe delivers souls of those who die in battle to Wind. “Battle” is very widely defined. Lots of things can be battles Ie: childbirth, battle with sickness)

Wild: God of the hearth, hunting, and the wilds (He moderates how much Hyians encroach on nature. Started out as a mortal)

Malon: Minor god of horses. Used to be a forest nymph before marrying Time

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rancidpancakebatter · 1 year

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Aaaaah congrats for 200 followers! 🎉🎉🎉 You're incredible writing and deserve even more!

My idea is: 🎵 - IDFC, by Blackbear & TASM Peter Parker. I know it’ll be amazing ❤️

Happiness: and Other Frightening Concepts-[P.P.]

Pairings: College!FWB!Peter Parker x College!Female!Reader

Prompt: IDFC By Blackbear, a song full of angst

Summary: You and Parker have fallen into a situationship of sorts, but that's fine, it's okay. He won't give you anything more and you don't fucking care.

Word Count: 5k words

Content: MINORS DNI: 18+ Swearing, Smut, P in V sex, multiple orgasms, praise kink, dick riding, allusions to Gwen's death,

A/N: Sorry, this took so long. I was gonna write something short but I guess that's just impossible because I can never stfu about this man

You met Peter in your Intro to Sociology class. He was funny and cute and had a lot to say. He sat at the desk next to you. You never talked much, he would come in late sometimes and be quick to leave. But one day he asked if he could borrow your lecture notes and you slipped your number with them.

At first, it was great. You would switch off bringing coffee to class, study in the library, and text all through the day. To say you were easily smitten would be an understatement. He was smooth with flirting, commenting on both your brain and your body. You quickly noticed that you got more compliments when you wore skirts, and now they were a staple in your wardrobe. You really liked Peter, and you thought he liked you too.

Study dates moved to your apartment. The both of you would crowd around your coffee table filled with papers adorned with red ink and smudged highlighter. Slowly they turned less studious, opting to watch a movie on the couch together instead. You would lay under a fluffy throw curled up into him while his hand would rest on your thigh. You had never felt so special.

Ferris Bueller's Day Off was playing, but you couldn’t focus on anything other than the circles Peter was tracing up your leg, getting closer and closer to where you wanted him most. His fingers were toying with the side of your panties and your lungs hitched as you felt his warm breath against your ear.

“(Y/N)...”

It sounded decadent, indulgingly alluring. When you turned to look at Peter his eyes consumed you like a black hole. You could feel yourself being slowly pulled apart and you surrendered to the void.

His lips on yours were everything you had dreamed of and more. Pillowy soft and a lingering taste of something sweet you couldn’t place. His tongue made you dizzy and his fingers made you weak. He plucked you like a violin, knowing just how to play you. He showed you beautiful melodies and you committed them all to heart, entirely at the mercy of your maestro.

That was almost eight months ago. You thought, after that night, everything would change. How silly and naive you were. The “study dates” continued and ended the same: mind-shattering orgasms and poor excuses for why he couldn’t stay, why he wouldn’t be more.

You had convinced yourself that this was fine. That you were fine. That you didn’t care. You didn’t care that you were just a hookup. You didn’t care that he would pop up late at night covered in bruises and no explanation of why. You didn’t care about the empty promises he made. Promises to see you for more than sex. Promises to text you back. Promises that he cared for you.

You sat in your room, reading a book. The summer sun had fallen below the city skyline and now you sat with your friend, the moon. She had held your shaky hands as you remade your empty bed and you as you cried through sleepless nights. She listened to your woes, a silent spectator to your breaking heart.

You were emersed in your reading when your phone went off. A quiet ping, one you recognised all too well. Despite everything in your body telling you not to: you picked it up.

Peter P. :

Can I see you tonight?

You could have said no. You could have chewed him out for not responding to your text from three days ago. You could have put down the phone and not responded at all. But Peter Parker had made you a fool. A fool for him.

(Y/N) (L/I). :

Yeah thats fine

You thanked the moon for her lack of judgment towards you. You had enough for yourself to spare.

Peter P. :

Be over in 30

You freshened up your makeup and put on cuter clothes all while berating yourself for doing so. Peter didn’t care what you were wearing or how you looked. He would pounce you as soon as he got in the door. He would tell you half-truths about how good you felt and how perfect you were. You continued getting ready; you continued to pretend you didn’t care.

Thirty minutes later, you heard a knock on your door. It’s frustrating to know that there are some promises he can keep. You opened the door and Peter grabbed you by the waist, pulling you in for a deep kiss. It was sloppy, teeth knocking together as his tongue felt its way through its second home. He guided you through the doorway, closing the door with his foot before pining you against it.

Your morals and attempts at self-respect blurred when you felt his leg slip between your thighs. You remembered all the reasons you wanted him, needed him. His grip loosened around your waist so his deft fingers could roam your body. His kisses move down the collum of your neck as you run your fingers through his hair. His breath tickled your throat.

“Well, hello to you too.” You giggled.

Peter paused, lifting his head to look deeply into your eyes. A sweet smile stretched across his face.

“Hi,” he whispered softly as he pecked your nose. “How was your day?”

“Boring, you?” His eyes darted across your face fondly.

“Entirely too eventful.”

You took notice of a scratch on his cheek, a small bruise on his jaw. You brought your hands up to trace them. You wanted to ask how and why. You wanted to know what had made his day so “eventful”, but you knew he wouldn’t tell you.

His lips descended back onto yours as you pushed away those thoughts. His hands cupped the back of your thighs and you jumped, knowing this routine well. Once you were in his arms he would grind against you, driving you mad as he kissed you dumb. You would feel how hard he was against you and feel pride.

Then he would take you to your bedroom. He would place you on your bed keeping you pinned against him. He would rip off his shirt and start pulling at yours. Every time you would stop yourself from staring at him, the lean cut muscle. He would lavish your stomach and breast with kisses as he worked on taking off your skirt.

He would render you witless as he lapped at your folds, by now, knowing precisely what to do you make you this way. And if you thought about it, that’s why you continued to do this. That’s why you let him in, night after night. Because you spent every waking hour wondering why you weren’t enough, and in these moments he made you forget. He made it so you didn’t care. A temporary nepenthe; you had become addicted.

You gripped the sheets as he took you for all you were worth. You wanted to grab his hand, to weave your fingers together, but that amount of intimacy wasn’t what he wanted. You compromised, gripping his hair instead and giving it a gentle tug. Peter allowed you to lead him away from you and pull him closer.

You could taste yourself on his tongue, could feel your slick on his lips. You made quick work of unbuttoning his pants. He only pulled away for only a moment to take them off and put on the condom from his back pocket.

He swallowed your moans as he entered you. Your walls stretched around him, clinging to all he would give you. He moved slowly but with force, each time bottoming out and making your toes curl.

Sometimes Peter was sweet and soft, other times quick and rough. It changed depending on what he needed from you. Sometimes he just wanted to feel cared for; other times to forget. Today you weren’t sure what he was using you for, maybe a bit of both.

He worried your nipples with his tongue, his hand coming to hold the one not in his mouth. Dazed, you lay your hand on his back, raking your nail up the expanse of muscle to draw him in. He seemed to understand what you were asking for and picked up the pace.

Your moans filled the room as you clung to him, wanting him closer and closer still. His hands pulled at the back of your thighs once again, resting them on his shoulder. Folded in half, all you could do was take it. You let out a scream as you felt him go deeper. He adjusted his position hitting right where you needed. He had made you a babbling mess, words slipping from your lips you didn’t recognise.

“Ah, fuck. Peter please!” He chuckled at your plea. Peter loves seeing you like this, absolutely desperate for him.

“Yeah, baby? What d’ya need, hmm? You wanna cum again?” He pressed his thumb against your clit, teasing you with a small taste of what he could do.

“Please, please, please” You were whining, begging.

“Always so polite for me.” He started moving his thumb and you almost couldn’t breathe.

Peter opted to kiss your neck, not wanting to miss a single sound you made. God, you were close, so so close. You didn’t have to tell Peter this. He could feel the way you were squeezing him; he could hear your breathy moans raising in pitch. He bit down on the spot he knew was most sensitive and revelled in your broken cry. He could feel you gush around his cock.

“There you go, good girl.” You moaned at his praise, not all there as you tried to catch your breath. Peter moved his thumb away but continued to fuck you slowly.

“Do you think you can keep going?” He punctuated his question with a particularly hard thrust that had you arching your back.

His kisses were soft and patient as he waited for your response. He knew what you were going to say. It’s what you said every time; he just liked hearing you say it.

“Yes, yes, please, don’t stop.” You felt him smile against your neck.

He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into his lap. His hand tangled in your hair as he brought you into an earth-shattering kiss.

“Then work for it.”

As you ground down against him, he placed his hands on your hips. His grip was firm; you were sure if he pulled his hands away you would be able to trace marks left by his finger pads.

You did a teasing bounce and the loud moan from both parties made you momentarily concerned about getting a noise complaint. You felt so full with Peter so deep inside you.

“Fuck baby, you feel so good. Do it again.”

You dug your nails into his shoulders and used them as leverage as his cock speared into you. Over and over and over again. Peter threw his head back, soft grunts leaving his puffy, pink lips. He looked so pretty like this: curls stuck to his forehead, eyes closed, mouth open, neck flexed, and altogether lost in you.

Your legs were getting tired and you started slowing down. Peter felt this and wrapped his arm around your lower back, raising your body and slamming it back down. If your mind was even a little clearer, you would have questioned how he was able to do this. But for now, your mind was swimming in the mix of post-orgasm fog and the desperate pre-orgasm haze.

It wasn’t long until the coil in your stomach snapped, relief washing over you. You brought Peter’s lips to yours, devouring him as you came down.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m close.” Peter’s brows were furrowed tightly as he continued bucking into you.

You wove your fingers through his chestnut curls, gripping them tightly so his gaze was focused on you.

“Please, Peter-I need you to cum.” Your words washed through him and he revelled in your silent permission.

He surged forward, once again pinning you on your back. Peter had unexplained stamina and once you had gotten your fill you let him use you to get off. You got off on it too. The way he man-handled you, throwing you around. The way he seemed to move with ungodly speed and force.

Your legs were thrown lazily over his shoulders as he grabbed your hips, keeping them slightly elevated as he pistoned into you. He kept you still as he gave you all he had. Your back arched and your body squirmed, overstimulated as you were drowned in pleasure. Galaxies burned through your veins as Peter continued to thrust into you.

He could feel you pulsing around him, squeezing him. He brought his thumb down to your poor, battered clit once again, knowing you were close. Your brain was effectively shut off, a string of “please” leaving your mouth, though you had no idea what you were asking for. More? Less? Peter? Who's to say?

It wasn’t long until you felt him “lock up.” He stilled inside you, muscles taught, as a deep grunt left his throat. You came then too, feeling him pulse inside you.

“Fuck,” was all he said as he crashed into you, completely wiped from all the work he did.

The sweat from your bodies stuck together as he draped himself across you, his head buried in the crook of your neck. You lay there in the quiet, soaking him up, running your fingers through his hair. You pretended the heavy throbbing of your heart was due to sex, nothing more, nothing less. That didn’t work for long. He felt so right in your arms and you wanted him to stay, to be more.

“Do you wanna order some food? We can have it delivered, maybe watch a movie or something.” You offered the same olive branch you had many times before. The bark was stripped and dead by now.

You felt the silent sigh he let out against your skin and the quiet groan as he began to sit up. You hated that you did this to yourself. Every time it ended the same. You would offer yourself to him and he would graciously decline. This was no different.

“I would but I’ve got some work I need to catch up on. Jameson wants those new photos and I’ve still gotta edit them and…you know how it is.”

Unfortunately, you did.

You move to grab your shirt from the floor, precipitously throwing it back on. Your back faced Peter as you tried to fight off the tears that threatened to fall. Peter didn’t want to stay. He never wanted to stay. Why would you think this would be any different? He doesn’t want you. But that’s fine. You don’t care.

“What?”

Peter’s tone caught you off guard. Well, all of it caught you off guard, but he sounded so…small. Like you had hurt him in some way. You turn to look at him, not sure you had heard him at all. His eyebrows were knitted and a frown overtook his once peaceful demeanour. His eyes darted over your features, probably just as confused, but for why you had no clue.

“What do you mean you ‘don’t care?’” You flinched as he mimiced the venom you unintentionally spit at him.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.” Peter looked genuinely hurt and you hated yourself for feeling so bad.

“Oh, so what did you mean? That you don’t care that I’m busy? Or that you don’t care about what’s going on in my life? Because if you don’t care you don’t have to ask.” You turned away from his piercing gaze, wiping at your face.

How dare he? How dare he accuse you of not caring? As if you didn’t constantly ask him for this information, as if you didn’t constantly pry for more. Was it not he who always cut you off, he who refused to share?

“Don’t- don’t say that. Of course, I care…I care so much. I just- how could you even say that?” Peter scoffed and you heard the familiar sound of him jumping in his jeans.

“Uh, I don’t know, maybe because you literally said you don’t care.” You felt your anger rise with his.

“You know what? Maybe I shouldn’t! I have been trying for so long to get you to care and you just…don’t! I don’t know why I keep expecting you to change!” He turned to face you, exasperation is the word you would use to describe his face now.

“Wha- change? What do I need to change? What is it that I don’t care about?”

You had never fought with Peter. You weren’t in a relationship so it was never warranted. You couldn’t see a way out of this without shattering every illusion you had built. Your castle was crumbling and you didn’t see any point in trying to save it. Hell, you were this far now.

“Me…You don’t care about me. I’m just some quick fuck to you, gone as fast as you come. Every time I want to hang out, be anything more than this, you make an excuse- push me away. The only texts you respond to are about when you can come over. The only time you wanna know how I’m doing is when I’m under you. You don’t care and you know what? I’m done. I’m done. I’m done caring about where you’re off to. I’m done caring about who or what gives you all those scars and bruises. I’m done pining after someone who obviously only wants me for my body. You. Don’t. Care. and I’m done. I don’t fucking care.”

You wiped angrily at the tears that had fallen. All your cards were on the table and if you knew anything about Peter, you knew he would leave them there. He would walk out the door and text you in a few days asking to drop by and you would say yes, and then you would be right back here. Or maybe he could change. Maybe he wouldn’t text you at all. Maybe he would decide this wasn’t worth it and leave.

You felt a hand on your shoulder, his gentle hand shocking you from your spiralling thoughts.

“(Y/N)...that’s not- that’s not true. I do care. You’re not just some ‘quick fuck’, okay? I just…don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how to be more than this. I’m sorry.”

You wanted to believe him so badly, but a small part of your brain was screaming at you that this was a cop-out. Because if he tells you that he cares but he can’t, then he gets to keep coming back- to keep stringing you along.

“Peter, I can’t do this anymore.” You wish you hadn’t said that. You wish you had said anything else because this felt final. You weren’t ready to say goodbye.

You felt his hand retract and could sense him stiffen. You expected him to leave, to say something along the lines of “fuck this, I’m out”, but instead he sat down on the edge of your bed with his head in his hands. You stood silently, unsure if there was anything else you should say- anything you could. After a moment he raised his head, a look of pure determination on his face.

“Okay…so we don’t do this anymore. We can do something else instead.” You looked at him confused.

“Peter, what are you saying?” He grabbed your shoulders, leaning down to meet you at your level.

“I’m saying we stop doing this whole…situationship…friends with benefits…thing. Yeah- we drop the benefits and just become friends. Actual friends.” You considered his proposition for a moment but you knew in your heart it was too late for that.

“I can’t be just friends with you, Peter. It’s too much. It would hurt too much.” Peter took his hands off you again and threw them behind his head.

“Fuck!” He cursed loudly, you had never known Peter to raise his voice.

“I can’t date you (Y/N). I can’t.” There was a fire in his eyes that almost frightened you.

“Why not?” You had hoped that your voice wouldn’t come out so shaky. You didn’t want to seem any more pathetic in front of him. You almost regret asking, not knowing how devastating his answer will be, but you coax yourself into thinking this will give you the closure you need to move on and forget him.

“I- you…look, I just…I’m not…safe. If I date you, if I care for you, If I love you…that could be really bad. I can’t lose you, I can’t, okay? I refuse to go through that again. You are a light to this world and I will not be the reason it goes out. Absolutely not.” You couldn’t help but feel like you were being scolded.

“I don’t understand. How is loving me a bad thing? Are you going to hurt me?-”

“No, I would never!”

“Then who? Who is going to hurt me, Peter? And why do they get to rule so much of your life? How is it fair that they make you fear a chance at happiness? My chance at happiness? Why do they get a say?” Peter looked frenzied, his eyes wild and full of unfallen tears, while his hair was mused and sticking up in all directions from pulling at it.

“You’re not listening to me-”

“I am Peter, but all I’m hearing is more excuses. I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep pretending that I’m fine with this. I want more, I need more, and if you can’t give me that then…I think you should leave.”

Your heart broke as he did just that. You were convinced he took it with him, bloodying his back pocket. Or maybe he crushed it into the carpet with his heel on his way out. Either way, he left and you didn’t hear from him again.

Classes had started back up, and you were so close to graduation that you could almost taste it. Your degree only a few more credits away. You were on your way to class but due to your early start, you had half an hour to kill. You decided that was as good as any reason to stop into your favourite coffee place before Ancient Grecian Philosophy.

You ordered your favourite pick-me-up and a pain au chocolat to go. The weather wasn’t too bad so you chose to sit outside, enjoying your breakfast and your book. Your headphones drowned out the hustle and bustle of New York, and, evidently, its favourite spandex-clad crime fighter.

You only noticed him when you saw his glove wave in front of the pages before you. You looked up only to meet the eyes of Spider-Man. You were amazed, to say the least. You hastily pulled out your headphones and set down your book.

“Oh my god, Spider-Man. You’re- you’re Spider-Man.” He chuckled at your response.

“Yes, I am. What gave it away?” Your shock was lessening, probably due to the comfort he seemed to radiate.

“The spider on your chest is kinda obvious.” He made a show of looking down and acting almost surprised to see it there.

“Yeah, I guess you’re kinda right. Without it though, I could be any old schmuck.” You chuckled again as he rested his hands on his hips.

“Even with it, there’s no telling which old schmuck you are.” He brought a hand to his chest, a gasp ripping from there.

“I am not old! I’ll have you know I’m only a few months older than you!” You brought a hand up to cover your laugh. He was funny, you’ll give him that. But then you felt a twist in your gut, apprehension nestling in your sternum.

“How would you know that?” Spider-Man tilted his head at you.

“How would I know what?” You started to rise from the table, looking at him more head on.

“How would you know if I’m younger than you?” He remained silent and you cursed his mask for hiding his facial expressions.

“Why are you here? Do I know you?” His gaze fell to the floor and you felt your fight or flight start to kick in. Your eyes darted around for the best escape route.

“Look, I just wanted to talk to you. I can explain everything just-” He paused to look around, you noticed then all the people crowing the window of the coffee shop. “Just not here.”

He extended his hand to you, “I know it’s crazy but I’m asking you to trust me.”

Despite your better judgement, you took his hand. I mean if your going to die, being murdered by spider-man isn’t the worst way to go. He swung you to an alley nearby before throwing you on his back and scaling up the side of a tall building.

Once you reached the top he let you down and began to pace. You could hear him muttering to himself, but you couldn’t pick up on what he was saying. The entire situation was making you increasingly nervous.

“I don’t know when you plan on explaining but I have to get to class soon, so the quicker the better.” You watched as he scratched at the back of his neck before turning to you.

“Okay, so, you do know me, but you don’t like me much, and for good reason. But I miss you and I think I’m ready now, like, I think I can be what you need me to be and I want- I want to try.” You always thought the expression “Staring at someone like they had three heads” was a bit dramatic, but in this moment you were sure you were doing just that.

Before you could question the man he ripped off his mask revealing a face you had tried to forget. His smile seemed nervous and you felt like you might pass out.

“Peter? Wha- How? What is happening?” You took a step back and Peter dropped down almost comically. His hands were spread out in front of him to show he was no threat, but your heart thought otherwise.

“I needed to talk to you but I knew you wouldn’t want to talk to me so I sent in the uh- the other guy.” You scoffed.

“I can’t help but feel a little manipulated here,” You laughed coldly. Peter’s eyes widened at your words, panic seeping through him.

“I- well, I-uh…I’m not trying to manipulate you. If you wanna leave I’ll drop you off right where I found you and can go back to pretending I don’t exist, but I meant what I said before. I do miss you, I do think I’m ready. I’m ready to show you I care.”

Peter watched as you sat on the concrete below you in wonder. You tilted your head up to the sky, saying nothing in response. He worried for a moment that he may have sent you into shock, definitely damaging his chances at getting you back. You sighed and patted the ground next to you and Peter took a seat.

“I cannot believe you thought this was a good idea. Was your best plan really ‘grab her off the street and info dump until her brain breaks?’” Peter felt his cheeks start to burn with embarrassment but then you nudged him with your shoulder, “And here I was thinking you were smart.”

You were teasing him, that’s good. That’s a start.

“I don’t know what gave you that impression. I was pretty stupid last time you saw me.” You gave a soft hum in agreement but offered no other reply.

“Speaking of…I’ve spent the last few months thinking about you, about what you said. I wanted to be with you but Spider-Man is kinda a package deal. And it’s not a good deal, it’s kinda a rip-off. I couldn’t be with you and not tell you about him. It wouldn’t be fair. But telling about him puts you in danger. There are a lot of people who want Spider-Man dead, a lot of people who want to hurt me, and that means people who would hurt you to get to me.” He paused as if having to convince himself to keep going, to not back out again.

“You’re right. I shouldn’t be cutting off any chance of happiness just because someone might not want me to have that. I do so much for everyone in this city and May says I get to be a little selfish. I think she’s right too. (Y/N)...I care about you a lot, and if you’re willing to give me the chance, I wanna make you happy. Like really happy. Like the kind of happy that makes everyone so annoyed but really they’re just jealous. And I think, I could let myself be happy too.”

You let his words wash over you. If he did walk away with your heart that night it seems now he was trying to give it back, and he offered his too. It was vandalised and tender, but you didn’t mind the mess. You reached between you and took his hand in yours, a ghost of a smile dancing across your lips.

“I think I would be willing to let you do that.” Your soul felt brighter when Peter smiled at you.

“Really?” You nodded your head and Peter placed his hand on the back of your neck. For a moment you thought he might kiss you, but instead, he rested his forehead against yours.

“Thank you.” You weren’t sure what he was thanking you for exactly, but his words felt rich with significance.

You stayed there for a while, neither of you moving before Peter spoke up again.

“You mentioned something about class earlier, I could drop you off?” You agreed as he pulled away and helped you stand. “And then maybe after I could take you out for brunch, I feel bad for interrupting your breakfast.”

You chuckled, “That would make me very happy.”

Tag List: @heejinw0rld, @jedisstark, @Possiblydeads-blog, @rudy-the-winged-wolf, @scorpiolystoned, @wannapizzamymindposts, @whoreforklitz, @greek-mythsnthings,

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laurenairay · 11 months

Text

gotta trust how you feel inside - J. Skinner

Summary: Jeff Skinner had never met anyone like Cameron Marlow before. Turns out, he had a lot to learn.

A story of accepting someone for who they are, as well as accepting yourself.

This is my entry for @wyattjohnston’s summer fic exchange 2k23, for @nhl-stories! I decided to do something a little different than I’ve ever done before, based off of your prompts and answers to my questions, so I really hope you like this. I researched so many articles and blog posts and videos on coming out and acceptance and all the different ways people have felt and reacted in their own journeys, so I really hope I did Cam’s story justice. Also heavily inspired by Mae Martin and their wonderful self!

Warnings: angst, slow burn, friends to lovers, fear of coming out as non-binary, change of pronouns part-way through.

Words: 4.8k

Title from Green Eyes by Arlo Parks.

Thank you to @tippedbykreider for being a wonderful beta reader!

Some of these folks wanna make you cry, But you gotta trust how you feel inside, And shine, and shi-ine, yeah, yeah, yeah.

“Jeff! Pizza or tacos?”

“Tacos please!”

“On it!”

Jeff smiled to himself as his neighbour Cameron disappeared from her balcony, back into the apartment below his. Their Friday night tradition of take-out and movies – whenever he was in town, that was – was something he treasured. Most of his teammates over 30 years old had a wife and kids at home for their Friday nights, but not Jeff. Maybe it was something that bothered him a lot when he was younger, not having someone to come back home to like everyone else seemed to, but since he’d been traded to Buffalo, it was something he was learning to let go of. There were plenty of other things in his life, plenty of other people, to fill what society deemed him missing, and he appreciated all of them. Loved all of them.

Cameron Marlow included.

She had been a breath of fresh air when he’d first moved into their shared apartment building back in summer 2018. Single, like he was, and only a year younger, so at least he didn’t feel completely out of place. And she was an introvert much like he was slowly growing into, meaning he didn’t have to put on a fake extroverted energy all the time, didn’t have to be ‘on’ 100%. The two of them bonded over just wanting someone to hang out with sometimes, someone who wouldn’t judge a depleted social battery. He knew that her work was intense, that she was damn good at her job too, and that the hyper-focus she had to have on all the time during her workdays left her pretty drained by the time she got home, much like hockey sometimes left him socially inept, so he appreciated having her as a friend he could just be himself with.

It didn’t hurt that she was blonde, blue-eyed, and completely & utterly beautiful. But that wasn’t something he wanted to think about right now. Cameron was so out of his league it wasn’t funny. Her intense corporate work aside, she was so interesting as a person that he barely felt like he could keep up. She was part of a book club, reading fiction about all kinds of different topics that he barely understood, leaving him feeling like more of a dumbass every time he attempted to follow along. She always volunteered during Pride month at the parade, making sure teenagers felt safe and secure and hopeful. She introduced him to plays and movies and poetry readings that he never would’ve thought of going to. He tried to keep up with her, loving the time they spent together too much not to, and it always seemed like she appreciated it anyway.

At least her dating life was as much of a disaster as his was. That was always something he could console himself with. Her type seemed to be tall blonde beefcakes, typical douchey gym bros, and every time a series of dates ended with the two of them eating ice-cream on one of their sofas, Jeff felt their friendship bond grow just that little bit more. He knew that his friendship with her was one of the best and closest and most genuine friendships he’d ever had, and over the past five years he’d grown to cherish it over anything else.

Cameron Marlow was in his life to stay, and there was nothing he ever wanted to change about that.

“Alright, tacos should be here in 30 minutes. Do you have beer?”

“Of course, I’m not a heathen,” Jeff scoffed.

Cameron just laughed, blonde waves swinging over her shoulder as she shut his apartment door behind her. She was dressed similar to him, tank top and sweatpants with fluffy socks, and she wasted no time in pulling her hair back in a messy bun after passing him a beer and sitting down next to him on his oversized sofa.

By the time their tacos arrived – Jeff went down to the lobby to pick them up, of course – Cameron had all but sunk into the sofa, all tension disappearing from her body. It was a good look for her, to be honest, peaceful and relaxed and content. And the fact that it was in his apartment that she was able to feel this way? Well, that meant everything to him.

However, by the time they’d finished eating, Cameron had flicked through her phone a few times, and a frown had grown on her face, her body a line of stiff tension again. He didn’t think it was because of him – he knew he hadn’t said anything out of the ordinary to her – but it still concerned him all the same.

“You look like you’ve got a lot on your mind,” Jeff said, “Want to talk about it?”

“I don’t know if you’d want to hear it?”

Jeff found himself frowning as he shook his head. Why would he not want to hear what she had to say?

“I always want to hear what you have to say? Why would I not?”

Cameron seemed to hesitate for a moment, eyes filled with something that he couldn’t read. Despite their five years of friendship, there was still so much he didn’t know about her, he knew that much. But why would she think he wouldn’t want to know what was bothering her?

“It’s just…okay, so you know I’m part of a book club, right?” Cameron blurted.

“Yes.”

He didn’t have a clue where this was going, but he was just going to roll with it. The book club met every other Sunday, he knew that much.

“Well we’re reading I Wish You All the Best by Mason Deaver, and naturally the conversation turned political,” Cameron started.

“As it would, sure,” Jeff nodded.

He didn’t know if it would be rude to pull out his phone to google what the book was about while she was talking, so he just decided to wait to see if she would explain.

“And like, a few of the group can relate to the main character Ben’s struggle, right? Coming out as non-binary to his parents only to be immediately kicked out of the house, so the topic was pretty personal for some of my friends…”

So that was what the book was about. Huh. He could only imagine how difficult that kind of situation would be. And Cameron said it had also happened to some of her friends? Damn.

“…and with the political climate right now, things just got so heated. As it would.”

“As it would,” Jeff agreed.

Well, not that he actually knew much about the political climate around gender. It was gender she was talking about, right?

“Gender is always an emotionally difficult topic,” he said, hedging his bet.

“Exactly!” she nodded.

Oh good, he’d gotten it right.

“The discussion is still bothering you though?” he prompted, eyes flicking to the phone she’d put down on the coffee table.

“Well, yeah, because New York still has so far to go in terms of making things equal for non-binary people. Like, shit, it took until late 2021 for driving licenses to get non-binary options on, and even now official government departments might not have options for all forms until 2024!”

“That seems unfairly restrictive?” Jeff said, frowning.

“It is! And of course, it’s started so many debates and discussions from hate groups and just generally horrible people about whether any of it should even be allowed. Like, what the fuck? All these absolute fuck-up debates about non-binary recognition, how non-binary people are basically invisible, it makes me so mad! How is it okay that a tiny group of people decide that I don’t exist?”

As she wound herself up angrier and angrier, Jeff froze slightly at Cameron’s words. That I don’t exist.

Not they.

Cameron was talking about herself.

No, if Cameron was talking about herself then that would mean she was non-binary…

Whatever was showing on his face made Cameron stop in confusion, before absolute horror flooded her expression.

“I mean, I, heh-”

Cameron cut herself off with a whimper, eyes desperately darting around like she was looking around for an exit from his apartment, and in that moment, Jeff’s heart broke a little. Cameron was trying to get away from him, because she was scared of his reaction. Scared of him. That was the last thing he ever wanted.

Jeff swallowed heavily, before smiling lightly. “I can’t imagine you ever being invisible. No-one should ever make you feel that way.”

The tears that filled Cameron’s eyes caused Jeff to panic slightly. Had he said the wrong thing? Had he ruined their friendship? Had he ruined…everything else?

“Fuck. Fuck, that wasn’t how I ever wanted it to come out,” Cameron murmured, “You don’t hate me?”

The last few whispered words broke his heart all over again. Jeff quickly shook his head as he put his beer down, taking Cameron’s hands in his.

“I could never hate you. I may not understand much about what you’re going through. Like, as a non-binary person. But I could never hate you, okay? You’re still Cameron to me,” Jeff said firmly.

Because it was true.

He might not know much about what it meant to be non-binary, or understand Cameron’s struggles, but the fact that she was scared he would hate her said all that he needed to know. Cameron was still his friend, still the same person he’d always known – he just knew a little more now, that was all, right?

Cameron bit her bottom lip for a moment, seeming to hesitate about something, so Jeff just squeezed her hands reassuringly.

“Actually, I prefer just Cam,” Cameron said.

“Okay. Okay, Cam it is,” Jeff nodded.

“And they/them pronouns,” Cameron added.

Cam.

They/Them.

Cam. They/Them.

He could absolutely do that.

“Cam. They/Them. Got it,” Jeff said firmly, still smiling.

Cam seemed to hesitate for a moment again, looking confused now.

“Just like that? You have no questions or reluctance or anything?” Cam asked, frowning.

“Well, no? Not really? I mean, you know yourself better than I do, right? So if you tell me that you won’t be using she/her any more then that’s not my choice? It’s you and how you are in yourself. It’s only right that I follow what you need,” Jeff said, frowning in response, “Is that not okay? I know I’ve probably been getting things wrong for years now, but I’ll do better?”

Cam laughed softly in disbelief, shaking their head.

“Of course it’s okay. And it’s only been a couple of years really but that’s because I purposely didn’t tell you. Haven’t really told many people, if I’m being honest. I just…I wasn’t expecting you to just accept it straight away? Like, you’re a hockey player right, and…”

“And hockey players have a reputation of being homophobic assholes? There’s a few prominent names popping out lately, yeah. But that’s not me. My older sisters played hockey on women’s teams while we were growing up and there were a few lesbians out and proud with their friends, so it’s not like I haven’t been around the LGBTQ+ community? And I know that non-binary is your gender, not anything with your sexuality, but what I mean is that I’m not that kind of asshole?” Jeff explained, “I might be a dumbass hockey player most the time but I’m not that full stereotype.”

“No, you’re right. I shouldn’t have painted you with that brush. I’m sorry,” Cam said, wincing.

“It’s okay. No, really it is. I get that you have to expect the worst from people and I hate that you have to, but you don’t have to with me, okay? I’ve got a lot to learn, I know that. So much. But you don’t have to be scared or nervous around me. I promise,” Jeff said, smiling.

Cam smiled shakily, nodding their head, finally losing a bit of tension in their shoulders.

“Thank you. I just…thank you,”

“I accept you for who you are, Cam Marlow. Exactly how you are,” Jeff said firmly.

Cam choked out a sob, hand flying up to cover their mouth, and it was all Jeff could do to let go of their hands and open his arms wide. Cam wasted no time in flinging themselves forward into his body, letting Jeff hug them as they cried into the crook of his neck. Jeff felt tears sting at his own eyes, but he just held them tight, rubbing their back to reassure them.

Everything would change from here, he knew that. But he wasn’t going anywhere.

Skinner Siblings

Jeff: A friend of mine recently came out to me as non-binary. Obviously I support them and I'm so proud of them but I haven't got a clue where to start to understand it all better? I just want to be a good friend.

Andrea: Firstly, congrats to your friend. I won't ask who because that's none of my business. Secondly, do you want some resources?

Jeff: Yeah I won't say their name because they haven't said I could. But yes please to resources!

Erica: Good start on using their correct pronouns Jeffy.

Jeff: I'm trying. It's literally the least I can do.

Erica: More than a lot of people would! Just as a tip, more than anything else, follow whatever your friend says is right for them. And if you mess up, correct yourself and move on. You are a good friend, even just by wanting to learn.

Jillian: Love you Jeffy. Proud of you!

Andrea: I’m proud of you too. I found a bunch of resources for definitions and reading material and even blog posts. Let me email you.

“Sex is what you’re assigned at birth, based on bodily characteristics. Gender can be completely separate from the sex you’ve been assigned at birth. That’s the best thing about gender: it’s free, flexible and completely yours to decide.”

“A recent Stonewall study found that 31% of nonbinary people have experienced hate crime as a result of their gender identity.”

“60% of Americans have at least heard about gender-neutral pronouns, many people may still be kind of unsure of what to say or do. According to the survey results, 52% of Americans report that they would be somewhat or very comfortable using gender-neutral pronouns with someone they know. But 47% said that they would be somewhat or very uncomfortable doing so.”

“A common misconception is that all non-binary identities sit somewhere in the middle of male and female, and that if you’re non-binary you’ll fit neatly into a box labelled ‘androgynous’. But this really isn’t the case – and one of the most liberating things about being non-binary is that there are no set rules around how you express or experience your gender.”

Jeff’s head spun as he read through all the resources that his sister Andrea sent over to him. There was so much new information to digest, and yet still not enough somehow. Sure, GLAAD was a great place to start for definitions, but he knew there was still so much further for him to go.

Baby steps though, right?

If Cam could take things step by step, so could he.

One of the first things that Jeff did was to add his pronouns to his twitter and Instagram bios. A simple he/him. It wasn’t much, but it was a start – and at least hopefully, if anyone asked him (not that he expected they would), then he could start a positive conversation about pronouns and representation. It was, quite literally, the least he could do. It was also likely that Cam would never notice either, but if they did then he wanted them to know that this was another way he could support them – it was important that everyone and anyone could use the pronouns they knew were correct for themselves, he knew that now. So if he could show people that with his level of publicity then he absolutely would.

He had to use his privilege for something good, right?

In the weeks following Cam’s accidental non-binary announcement, aside from his own research journey, it seemed like a new side of Cam’s life opened that he’d never been privy to before. Sure, he’d liked and treasured the time that the two of them spent alone over the past five years, but now it seemed like they were comfortable enough to let him into a whole new level. He wasn’t entitled to it in the slightest, he knew that, so he made that they knew exactly how much he appreciated these new steps they were taking.

Cam also opened up more to him about their discovery journey. About how they had felt just ever-so-slightly wrong in their body for so long, not understanding why until they stumbled across an LGBTQ+ poetry slam one night not long after he had moved into their apartment building, not knowing what to do about how they felt until a few years ago. Cam had insisted that they hadn’t kept things separate from him maliciously – it was more of a case that they had still been figuring it out for themselves while they were getting to know him too, and part of their process had been compartmentalising. He wasn’t mad. He literally had no right to be, but he genuinely wasn’t mad. The fact that they finally felt comfortable enough with him and within themselves to take down those barriers? That was all that he cared about.

They had even introduced him openly to a few of their friends. Jeff hadn’t understood the side-eyes and the smirks or even the money exchanged between a couple of the group, but he finally in on the jokes about Cam being a social disaster, finally able to have them smiling at him like he was in on the secret. He was part of a whole new world – one that confused him heavily sometimes, but one that he appreciated being able to be within – and he loved that his friendship with Cam had only grown from strength to strength with each new thing he learned about them.

None of that changed how their smile still gave him butterflies.

“You cut your hair.”

That was the first thing that came out of his mouth when Cam opened the front door of their apartment. It had been only a little over a month since their unintentional coming out, but it seemed like each day Cam was a little more settled in their skin, and it made Jeff feel so happy that he got to be part of that. Their hair though – that was a big change.

“I…did. Is it bad?” Cam asked, a little nervous.

Cam’s hair had previously been down to their waist, naturally tousled and dirty blonde. But now…now it was short. Super short. A pixie cut, maybe? At least that’s what he remembered from one of his sister’s magazines. A white-blonde pixie cut. Huh.

“Not bad. Like, at all. It really suits you,” Jeff said firmly, as he walked past them into their apartment.

“You’re not just saying that?” Cam asked hopefully.

“I’m a really bad liar, you know that,” Jeff shrugged, smiling a little sheepishly as Cam laughed, “And I wouldn’t lie to you about this. It’s different, sure. But it feels like you.”

Cam exhaled shakily, shoulders losing a little tension as they nodded. “That’s what I thought. That it feels like me, more than anything else ever has.”

Jeff hesitated slightly as some of the reading he’d done came back to him, before he took a deep breath to steel himself.

“Was this a gender dysphoria thing? Is there still anything else you want to do to feel more comfortable in your body?” he asked.

Cam’s eyes widened slightly before they smiled fondly at him. “You really have done your reading, haven’t you?”

“I just…wanted to be a good friend,” Jeff said, feeling a little awkward.

Was he not meant to have tried to learn more? Did Cam not want that?

“Oh Jeff, you are one of the best friends a person could ever ask for,” Cam said, shaking their head as they smiled, letting Jeff breathe a little sigh of relief.

“You deserve it,” Jeff shrugged.

Interestingly, Cam blushed a little, before they laughed softly, moving to pull some coffee mugs out of the kitchen cupboard.

“Right, to answer your questions. The hair was kind of a gender dysphoria thing? My long hair just felt so feminine, and that obviously isn’t me anymore. Or maybe was never me? I don’t know, I’m still figuring out how I feel about it. In terms of anything else…I’m not trans. I don’t want to transition from female to male, because I genuinely don’t feel like either of them. That isn’t my journey. I’ve been dressing pretty androgynously for a few years so that covers most of what I feel like I need? And it’s not like my boobs are particularly big anyway so I can just wear a tighter tank top if I have days where they are a trigger,” Cam explained.

Jeff’s eyes dropped to their chest before he could even stop himself, and he felt his cheeks flare in horror at his reaction as he quickly looked back up to their face. What was wrong with him? Why would he…bleurgh.

Cam politely ignored his reaction, their mouth quirking in a slight smile.

“Periods might be an issue I’ll have to face at some point, but that’s something I’ll deal with as I get to it,” they shrugged.

He’d heard all the horrors of periods over the years from his sisters, so while he wasn’t quite desensitised, he didn’t grimace.

“There’s birth control you can go on to stop them for a few years though, right? Like, the implant or the coil?” Jeff said, tilting his head, “That’s always an option.”

Cam’s eyes widened slightly again, before they shook their head. “You are a gem, Jeff Skinner. Don’t let anyone ever tell you differently.”

Jeff found his cheeks heating up again, but he just smiled, shrugging. It’s not like he was looking for a gold star for being a half-decent human being after all.

Cam finally finished making their coffees, sliding Jeff’s over the counter to him while they sat down on the stool opposite.

“Oh, here, I got you something,” Jeff said, reaching into his bag, “It’s a little lame now that I think about it, but I already bought it so here we go.”

“This is…a cupcake?”

“A coming out cupcake. In your colours,” Jeff nodded, smiling.

White, yellow, purple and black swirled icing on a vanilla cupcake, the colours of the non-binary flag, from a tiny LGBTQ+ friendly bakery that he’d found in the city. The day he’d ordered it, he remembered the tiny smile that cracked on the terrifying butch woman’s face behind the counter, probably because he’d been rambling about wanting to celebrate and support Cam. He’d tried to find a date in the last month that felt right, but with Cam still settling into themselves publicly combined with his travelling schedule, it had taken longer than he wanted. But when he’d picked it up this morning he felt good about it. It might only be a silly little thing, but Cam loved cupcakes, right? So it felt good just to show Cam a little appreciation.

“This might be the sweetest thing ever. My god, Jeff. Why?”

“You deserve something nice? To mark this new chapter? The world is full of terrifying things that happen to people when they come out as non-binary. I’ve read some really awful blog posts about people whose lives were turned upside down just for being brave enough to be themselves. And I know you’re going to have to keep coming out over and over and over again even in just the tiniest of ways, so this is just me saying that I see you and I appreciate you.”

“Damn it Jeff, you’re going to make me cry again,” Cam

“Sorry?” he offered.

Cam just laughed, shaking their head as tears sprung to their eyes.

“I just hope that coming out to my parents will be as smooth as coming out to you was,” Cam said softly.

“You aren’t out to your parents?”

“No,” Cam murmured, shaking their head, “I’m so nervous.”

“Hey, no, don’t be, okay? Your parents love you,” Jeff said, frowning.

“You know just as well as I do how badly parents can react. It’s such an unknown reaction. And it’s not like they would’ve had any kind of idea that this is how I felt about myself over the past few years, right? No build up or lead in that they would have to prepare themselves,” Cam sighed.

They were right. Jeff had read the blog posts, the articles, the statistics. He hated that Cam had to go through this, but it wasn’t his place to pretend that everything was going to be a-okay.

“All you can do is be honest with them. That’s literally it,” Jeff said softly.

“I’m 30 years old, I shouldn’t be this scared to tell my parents who I really am,” they said, laughing a little dryly.

“It’s a natural reaction, Cam. From what I understand anyway. You love them – they’re your parents. You don’t want to lose them, it makes sense. But you also wouldn’t be doing yourself justice in not living your truth,” Jeff said, smiling sadly, “I’m here for you, no matter what happens, okay?”

They nodded, sniffing slightly. “I don’t deserve you.”

“You deserve everything and more. Never let anyone tell you differently,” Jeff said fiercely.

Cam choked out a laugh, blinking away their tears as they nodded again.

“Alright, if Jeff Skinner says it, then it must be true,” they said, wry smile on their face.

Jeff just grinned, making them laugh properly this time. He couldn’t bear the thought of them feeling like they didn’t deserve the whole world. Even if it wasn’t him that was able to give it to them, he still wanted them to be happy. That was all that mattered, right?

Then Cam’s smile slid into something a little more serious. A little more earnest. Jeff finished his coffee, sliding the cup to the side as he waited for them to collect their thoughts, knowing they would speak when they were ready.

“You make me want to be brave,” Cam said softly.

Well that was the last thing he expected. Those sweet simple words made his whole chest warm with happiness. He made them want to be brave? They were already so brave all on their own.

“Me?” Jeff asked, surprised.

But Cam just nodded, glancing over at him with their big blue eyes as they bit their bottom lip, and the look in their eyes made his heart start beating a little faster. Oh. Oh. Him?

“Me? Really?” he asked, a little breathless.

“Yeah, Jeff. Who else?” Cam said, cheeks flushing lightly.

Jeff inhaled sharply, reaching his hand across the kitchen counter to rest on theirs, his heart pounding so hard in his chest that he felt like it would fly out. Was this what his sisters meant when they’d described how it felt when they fell in love? Was he finally getting his chance to love someone too? When Cam clutched his hand back, smiling back at him so sweetly and shyly, he knew he had his answer. This was Cam – his heart had fallen for them a long time ago.

“You make me want to be brave too.”

He knew that this wasn’t going to be easy. He knew that the two of them would face so many questions, so much scrutiny, and most likely so much hatred. But what Jeff knew most of all was that he wanted to try. Cam was worth that. Cam was worth everything.

“Hey Cap, do you mind if I bring my partner Cam to the end of season barbecue?”

“Cameron? Your neighbour? Of course bud, glad the two of you finally got your shit together. How is she?”

“They.”

“What?”

“They. Not she. And it’s Cam, not Cameron.”

“Huh. Okay, good to know. Do you want me to say anything to the guys?”

“No, I’m just going to introduce them as they are. If anyone is shitty, I’ll deal with it.”

“Alright bud, but let me know if you want any help. You’re not alone, okay? Either of you. I look forward to meeting Cam. And Jeff? I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks. And, uh, thanks.”

“Any time.”

Baby steps.

#my writing #jeff skinner fic #summer fic exchange 2k23 #jeff skinner fanfic #jeff skinner imagine #jeff skinner x oc #nhl fic #nhl fanfic #nhl imagine #hockey fic #hockey fanfic #hockey imagine #non-binary oc

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