#this is based loosely off one i saw ages ago and what i remember of it

[wannabehockeygf]

No Hard Feelings - Beckett Sennecke

I did it again guys sorry!!! Word Count: 6.6k Pairing: Beckett Sennecke x fem! reader Tags: Fluff, slight? age gap (8 years), inexperienced cute guy!, he falls first Warnings: suggested smut, slight? age gap (as stated above), alcohol Notes: This is loosely based on one of my favourite movies, No Hard Feelings (I love you JLaw), so if you've seen it that's what I was going for. (***) is a general separator/time skip. Yes, I know people under the age of 21 get kicked out of casinos (I had that happen to me in Vegas at the age of 17) but for the sake of fiction! This is not proof read! And sorry if it gets repetitive.

we <3 u baffled duckling! *** This morning

THE BOY YOU WERE KISSING LAST NIGHT WAS BAD.

Not even ‘bad’ as in, damn he was hot, ‘bad’ as in, he didn’t know what the fuck he was doing.

You probably should’ve expected that. A couple of days in Vegas is the dream for anyone over the age of twenty-one, but since you couldn’t afford it three years ago, you were doing it now. Now and alone, since your friends couldn’t book enough time off work to make it out of LA on time.

Making friends isn’t a hard thing for you to do, it wasn’t ever. You always saw the world through rose-colored glasses – energetic, funny, always the life of the party – an optimist, as one would call it. So, going alone wasn’t as scary for you as it would be for others.

You celebrated your birthday at home early, with your friends and family that could make it, before you took a six p.m. flight to Las Vegas. You went to your hotel to simply drop off your bag and put on a party dress before making a beeline for the first bar on the strip.

…That was all you could remember. Now, you were lying on top of the blankets in your own hotel room, thankfully, with your wallet and phone intact. Your head was pounding, your surroundings swirling into a mess of colors as a ringing in your ear wouldn’t go away no matter how loudly you groaned.

You’re hungover. Severely, apparently, and there’s nothing you hate more than being hungover. You always swore you turned into a raging bitch, mostly because of the fact that you didn’t let anyone have more than two words with you before getting upset or angry.

You fumble around the nightstand for your phone, trying to focus your bleary vision on the screen. The bright light makes you wince, but you manage to unlock it and check your notifications. A flood of messages from your friends and family, wishing you a happy birthday, and... oh no.

A text from the hotel’s app, which you for some reason had to download to access the Wifi, warned you that there were 5 minutes until the end of the check-out window. Stupidly, you remember you decided to book separate hotels for the two nights you’d stay, to get the full Vegas experience.

Yeah, well, you were regretting that now.

With a groan, you drag yourself out of bed, every movement feeling like it’s amplified by the pounding in your head. You glance at the time on your phone again, hoping maybe, just maybe, you misread it. No such luck. You have five minutes to gather your things and check out before they charge you for another night.

Scrambling around the room, you shove your belongings back into your bag, not caring if anything is folded or in its proper place. You barely have time to splash some water on your face and brush your teeth before you stumble out the door, clutching your phone and wallet like lifelines.

The hallway is dizzying, the carpet’s geometric pattern only adding to your disorientation. You manage to make it to the elevator and hit the lobby button, praying it gets there fast enough. The doors open, and you step out, wobbling slightly but determined to make it to the front desk in time.

The clerk at the desk raises an eyebrow as you approach, probably used to seeing hungover guests but not ones quite as frantic as you. You plaster on your best apologetic smile and hand over your key card, mumbling something about checking out.

“Cutting it a bit close, aren’t we?” the clerk remarks, but there’s a hint of amusement in their voice. They quickly process your checkout, and you breathe a sigh of relief when you see the charges haven’t increased.

With that hurdle out of the way, you step aside and find a couch in the lobby to plop down on. You figure you need a moment to compose yourself before making the trek to the next hotel.

Suddenly, a tall figure strides in front of you, stopping, and you look up to see the face of a man. A very familiar face.

Oh fuck.

He doesn’t smirk or make a cocky remark like you expect, instead opting to awkwardly rub the back of his neck thinking of the words before speaking. “Hey…” He says, quietly, a good escape from how loud everything around you felt.

You blink a few times, trying to clear the fog from your mind as you stare up at the man in front of you. “Hey,” you croak out, your voice raspy from a combination of last night’s drinks and this morning’s hangover.

He’s tall and lanky, with messy dark hair and a slight scruff on his face. He looks sheepish, like he’s just as unsure about this encounter as you are, but along with that, he looks young. Younger than you remember, and far too young for you. You vaguely know why you remember him, but you’d rather not deal with it, especially with the new revelation of his supposed baby face, so you decide to lie.

“Do I... know you?” you ask hesitantly, wincing at how disoriented you sound.

The man blushes furiously, looking around before meeting your gaze again. His eyes are a dark, sad blue, which have a complexity that you couldn’t even begin to try to explain right now. “Um, yeah… we met last night. The casino.” He fumbles with his words, and you can tell he's not used to this kind of confrontation.

You remember, but you really don’t want to deal with this right now. You stand up, grabbing the handle of your carry-on, before looking back at him and oh god, he may look fifteen but he towers over you, which makes your heart skip a beat. You swallow hard, trying to look past him, “No, sorry, I don’t think I remember,” You reply, taking a step forward.

The man suddenly grabs at your sleeve, stopping you from walking away. You turn back around to face him, an annoyed expression on your face. His blush deepens as he realizes what he just did, and lets go of your sleeve, “Sorry, I–” He trails off, trying to find the right words, “Beckett.”

“What?” You shoot back, your head still pounding.

The man swallows hard, shoving his hands in his pockets while trying to avoid your gaze. “My name. You have to remember me, right?” He murmurs, tripping over every single word in that sentence.

You stare at him for a moment, his awkward demeanor clashing with your hangover-induced irritability. “Beckett?” You echo, the name tugging at the edges of your fuzzy memory.

***

Last night

“Beckett.” He says, shuffling slightly in the empty booth he was sitting in near the casino. You, quite buzzed by this point but not completely wasted, approached this man thinking he was cute, and you were determined to flirt your ass off. And what better way to start then to tell him your name first, then ask for his?

You smile, finding his tense posture endearing as you slide into the booth, right beside him.  “You’re adorable, Beckett. You here with anyone?”

Beckett's cheeks flush slightly, and he looks down at his drink, which seems to just be a coke, swirling the ice around nervously before replying, "Just… with some friends" he stammers, his eyes darting around as if searching for an escape route.

You lean in closer, the chaos of the casino fading into the background as you focus on Beckett. His nervousness only seems to amplify your playful mood, and you find yourself drawn to unraveling more about him.

"Friends, huh? What brings you to Vegas with them?" you inquire, leaning even closer to him just to tangle your hands in his messy hair.

Beckett squeaks, an unexpected noise from his surprisingly deep voice, along with his cheeks burning at your contact. “We’re here for the– Oh god…” He mumbles, his voice trailing off as your fingers began to weave through his hair, ruffling it further.

Your lips curl into a small smile, enjoying how he seemed to melt like butter in your hands, “Cat got your tongue?” You remarked with a playful chuckle, pausing your movements, “Should I stop?”

“No! Please don’t!” He blurted out with a weird urgency. Realizing what he just did, Beckett’s cheeks turned an even deeper shade of crimson as you teased him combined with his own strange outburst, his gaze flickering between your eyes and the drink in front of him. His hand twitched nervously on the tabletop, clearly unsure of how to handle your playful advances. He quieted down, his voice barely audible over the din of the casino, “I’m just… not used to this.”

You tilt your head slightly, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you continue to run your fingers through his hair, enjoying the way he reacts to your touch. "Not used to what? Pretty girls playing with your hair?" you tease lightly, your voice low enough to keep the conversation intimate amidst the surrounding noise.

Beckett shifts in his seat, although he doesn’t dare move away. "Um, yeah, something like that," he admits shyly, his gaze flickering back to his drink before meeting yours again. 

"Well, get used to it," you reply with a grin, deciding to play along with the game of teasing. "You’re very pretty too," Your tone is light, but there's a warmth to it.

Beckett chuckles nervously, clearly flustered but also intrigued by your playful banter. His cheeks remain flushed as he attempts to regain his composure, his gaze alternating between your eyes and his untouched drink. The chaotic atmosphere of the casino seems to fade away as you two engage in this small bubble of conversation, your teasing and his awkwardness creating a peculiar but oddly charming dynamic.

"I... uh, thank you," Beckett stammers, his voice barely above a whisper. His fingers nervously tap against the table, betraying his attempt to appear composed. "You’re very… nice.”

You chuckle softly at his awkward compliment, enjoying the way he squirms under your playful attention. Leaning closer, you tease, “Just nice? Not beautiful or captivating?”

Beckett takes a deep breath through his nose before turning his head slightly to meet your gaze, your body almost completely draped right beside his now. He doesn’t hold eye contact for more than a second, inhaling sharply before looking away again. “No–God, no, you’re gorgeous, I’m just–”

You couldn't help but grin at Beckett's flustered response, finding his nervousness endearing. His attempt to compliment you only made him more charming in your eyes, and god did you want to pounce on him right then and there. "Wow, Beckett," you teased, leaning back slightly but keeping your gaze locked on him. "You really know how to flatter a girl."

Beckett's cheeks flushed deeper, his fingers now nervously playing with the condensation on his drink. "I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to... I mean, I just... You're..." He struggled for words, his blue eyes wide and earnest as he searched for the right thing to say.

You pouted at his stuttering. "Relax, Beckett," you reassured him gently, reaching out to briefly touch his hand, “Take your time.”

Beckett's hand twitched under your touch, his eyes flickering down to where your fingers briefly grazed his before retreating. He swallowed hard, visibly trying to regain his composure as he met your gaze again. "Sorry," Beckett murmured, his voice barely audible over the background noise of the casino. "I… why are you here? In Vegas.”

You lean back slightly, your hand lightly resting on his shoulder now. "Oh, you know, birthday celebration," you answer casually, as if it's the most ordinary thing in the world to strike up a conversation with a stranger in a crowded bar. "Decided to treat myself to a spontaneous Vegas trip."

His eyebrows raise in surprise. "Happy birthday," Beckett says sincerely, his voice softening with a genuine warmth. "That sounds fun… Um, weird question, but how old are you?”

You chuckle at his question, appreciating his attempt to keep the conversation going despite his nerves. "Thanks. And I'm twenty-six today.”

Beckett’s eyes widen, almost to the point where they’re about to pop out of his head, and he tries his best to hide his surprise, although he isn’t doing a very good job at it. Your hand finds it’s way into his hair again, playfully tugging at the strands as you frown at him, “What? You’re not about to call me old, are you?”

Beckett's eyes widened further, caught off guard by your playful tug at his hair and your teasing challenge. He blushed furiously, his nervous laughter mingling with the cacophony of the casino around you.

"N-no! Of course not," Beckett stammered, his hands fidgeting with his drink again. "You... you look great. Really. I just... I didn't expect..." He paused, swallowing hard, “I’m eighteen. Is that… okay?”

"Eighteen?" you echoed with a playful smirk, leaning in closer again. "You're just a baby."

Beckett's cheeks flushed deeper at your teasing, but he managed a nervous laugh. "I-I guess so," he admitted, his fingers tapping nervously on the table. "Sorry, I didn't mean to... I mean, you just seem... more experienced."

You laughed softly, enjoying his flustered attempts to navigate the conversation. "Well, I've had a few more birthdays than you, that's for sure," you replied lightly, your hand still resting on his shoulder. "But age is just a number, right?"

"Yeah, definitely," Beckett agreed quickly, his eyes flickering up to meet yours before darting away again. "I mean, you're... you're really cool, and..." He trailed off, distracted by the newfound feeling of both your hands on him, this time on his chest.

You lean in even closer, your breath ghosting over his ear as you let your hands wander over his chest, feeling the rise and fall of his rapid breathing. "You're cute, Beckett," you whisper, your lips just inches from his ear. "And very sweet."

Beckett swallows hard, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment as he tries to steady his nerves. "Th-thanks," he stammers, his voice barely audible over the din of the casino. He looks up at you, his blue eyes wide and vulnerable. “I’m… uh, my friends are going to be back soon.”

Your smile widens at Beckett's shy confession, and you decide to push the envelope a little further. "Your friends?" you repeat, leaning in close enough that your breath tickles his ear. "Are they going to rescue you from me, or are you hoping they get lost for a while?"

Beckett's cheeks flush even deeper, and he swallows nervously. "I-I don't know," he mumbles, his voice barely a whisper. "Maybe... maybe a little of both."

You chuckle softly, amused by his honesty. "Well, until they come back, how about we make the most of our time together?" you suggest, your fingers trailing down his arm in a gentle caress.

Beckett's breath hitches at your touch, and he glances around the bar, as if expecting his friends to appear at any moment. "I-I guess we could," he agrees hesitantly, his eyes flickering back to yours. "What do you have in mind?"

You pull back slightly, your gaze still fixed on Beckett's flushed face. “You wanna go up to my room?” 

"I-I don't know," he stammers, his voice barely audible over the noise of the casino. "I mean, I... I've never..."

“That’s okay…” You muse, your hand messing with the collar of his white dress shirt, “We don’t have to do anything. Or… I could teach you?”

"Teach me?" Beckett's voice trembles slightly, and his wide eyes reveal a mix of curiosity and apprehension. "Like, what exactly?"

You smile reassuringly, your fingers gently tracing the line of his jaw. "Nothing you're not comfortable with," you assure him softly. "We can just hang out, talk, or… see where things go. No pressure."

He swallows hard, clearly torn between his nerves and his growing curiosity. "Okay," he finally whispers, his voice barely audible.

You take his hand in yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Let's go then," you say with a warm smile, standing up and guiding him out of the booth. Beckett follows you, his hand trembling slightly in yours as you lead him through the bustling casino.

The elevator ride up to your room is filled with a tense silence, broken only by the soft hum of the elevator music. You steal glances at Beckett, noticing the way he fidgets nervously with the hem of his shirt.

"Relax," you murmur softly, giving his hand another gentle squeeze. "This is just about having a good time, okay?"

He nods, taking a deep breath and trying to steady his nerves. "Yeah, okay," he murmurs, his voice a little stronger now.

When the elevator doors open, you lead him down the hallway to your room. Once inside, the door clicks shut behind you, and the noise of the casino fades into a distant memory. Beckett looks around, his eyes wide with a mix of awe and nervousness.

"Nice room, I–” Beckett starts, only to get cut off by you literally pouncing on him, grabbing his face and pulling it down towards your lips.

Beckett's eyes widen in shock as your lips press against his, his hands frozen at his sides. For a moment, he remains still, unsure of what to do, but then he slowly starts to respond, his lips moving tentatively against yours. The kiss is awkward, and he uses way too much tongue, but as he relaxes, it becomes more confident, his hands finding their way to your waist.

You pull back slightly, just enough to meet his gaze, and smile at the sight of his flushed cheeks and wide eyes. "See? Not so bad, right?" you whisper, your voice teasing but gentle.

Beckett nods, still looking a little dazed. "Y-yeah," he breathes, his hands tightening slightly on your waist as if to anchor himself. "Not bad at all. But can we–”

Once again, you kiss him before he can respond, tugging at the hair at the nape of his neck. He kisses back, not any better, but he definitely tries. "Beckett," you murmur against his lips, your voice a soft whisper that sends shivers down his spine. "Shut up, please.”

Beckett's lips part slightly in surprise at your bold request, but he quickly recovers, his hands tentatively exploring your waist as he deepens the kiss. You pull away, standing on your tip toes to trail sloppy, open-mouthed kisses down his neck, which cause a whimper to escape from him. 

You guide him to the bed, pushing him down gently so that he's sitting on the edge. Standing between his legs, you run your hands through his hair again, tilting his head back so you can kiss him deeply. This time, his response is more confident, his hands finding their way to your hips and pulling you closer.

Your fingers work deftly, undoing the buttons of his shirt one by one, exposing his skin inch by inch. He shivers under your touch, his breath coming in short, quick bursts. "Is this okay?" you murmur, your lips ghosting over his jaw.

"Yes," he breathes, his voice barely audible.

You smile, pressing a soft kiss to his neck before continuing your exploration. His shirt falls open, and you take a moment to admire his lean physique, your hands running over his chest and stomach. His skin is warm under your touch, and you feel his muscles tense and relax as he tries to steady his breathing.

You push him gently back onto the bed, climbing on top of him and straddling his hips. His hands find their way to your thighs, his fingers digging into your skin as you lean down to kiss him again, this time your tongues tangling in a heated dance.

Your hands move to his jeans, undoing the button and zipper before slipping your hand inside, feeling the heat of his arousal through the fabric of his boxers. He gasps into your mouth, his hips bucking involuntarily at your touch. "Relax," you murmur against his lips, your voice a soothing whisper. "I've got you."

Your fingers tease the waistband of his boxers, and you feel his hips twitch in anticipation. Leaning down, you press a trail of kisses along his jawline, down his neck, and over his chest, your lips and tongue exploring every inch of his skin. Beckett's hands move to your back, his fingers trembling slightly as they slide under your shirt, seeking out the warmth of your skin.

But, as soon as you tug at his jeans, wanting them completely off, he squeals and pushes you off of him, breathing heavily.

You land beside him, your breath coming in quick, shallow bursts as you try to make sense of his sudden retreat. Beckett sits up, his eyes wide and panicked, his chest rising and falling rapidly. For a moment, neither of you speaks, the only sound in the room the muffled thrum of the street below.

“Sorry,” Beckett whispers, his voice trembling. He runs a hand through his hair, looking more lost than ever. “I… don’t think I can do this.”

You take a deep breath, forcing yourself to calm down as you look at Beckett, his face flushed and his eyes wide with panic. “Are you a virgin or something?” You ask, gently although your patience is wearing thin.

His eyes widen as he shakes his head panicked. “No! I’m not!” He exclaims, “I mean… barely, I just... I didn't think... I mean, I didn't expect..."

You sigh, frustration bubbling up despite your attempt to stay calm. You sit up, running a hand through your hair as you try to compose yourself. "Look, Beckett," you start, your voice more controlled now. "It's okay to be nervous. Just, do you want to hook up or not?”

Beckett freezes, caught off guard by your direct question. His eyes widen as he processes your words, his mind racing with a mix of uncertainty and desire. He opens his mouth to reply, but the words catch in his throat, his nerves getting the better of him. Finally, he takes a deep breath, his voice quiet. "I... I want to," he admits softly, his cheeks flushing deeper with embarrassment.

“Really? Because it really doesn’t seem like that,” You say, crossing your arms defensively.

Beckett's shoulders slump slightly, his cheeks burning with embarrassment as he realizes he's disappointed you. He looks down at his hands, unsure of how to salvage the situation. "I... I'm sorry," he murmurs, his voice barely audible over the hum of the air conditioning in the room.

You sigh, falling back onto the bed. “It’s fine, whatever. Just leave, please.”

Beckett sits there, visibly conflicted and unsure how to proceed. He watches you retreat to the bed, your frustration palpable in the air. Eventually, he begins to button his shirt back up and stands up. “I’m… sorry. Happy Birthday.” He decides to say, plainly, and without another word, leaves the room.

And not long after that, you fall asleep.

***

This morning

“Oh… my god.” You murmur, your cheeks burning at the memory as you face him right now. You immediately feel bad, as you didn’t remember what you did with him, but at the same time, a part of you thought it was a little bit immature of him to not know what he was doing at all. Especially since he said he wasn’t a virgin.

Beckett raises an eyebrow, slumping slightly. “Um, so I take it you remember now…?” He asks, quietly.

You groan inwardly, unable to hide your frustration as the memories from last night flood back. It wasn’t just that Beckett had been inexperienced, but the way the encounter had ended left you feeling awkward and unsatisfied.

“Yeah, I remember,” you mutter, rubbing your temples as you try to shake off the lingering embarrassment. “Look, I’m sorry for how things went down last night. It was just… really unexpected.”

Beckett nods, his eyes downcast. “I know, I was a mess. I didn’t mean to ruin your night. I mean, you seemed… really horny.” He replies, his voice getting smaller.

You sigh heavily, trying to push down the frustration bubbling up inside you. "Yeah, I was," you admit bluntly, not wanting to sugarcoat the truth. "I was looking for a good time, Beckett, and you... well, you weren't ready for that."

Beckett's cheeks flush even more, his eyes darting away from yours. "I know, I'm sorry," he mumbles, clearly feeling the weight of your disappointment. He takes a deep breath, mustering up all the confidence he has before continuing, “Can I ask you something, though?”

You take a deep breath, trying to rein in your frustration. "Yeah, what is it?" you ask, crossing your arms defensively.

Beckett hesitates, his eyes flickering nervously to yours before looking away again. "Do you think we could try again?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. "I mean, not like, hook up, but a date or something.”

“A date?” You echo, as if the word itself is foreign to you. You were never one for serious relationships, your last one ended when you were Beckett’s age, and you never tried again, instead opting for casual, no-strings endeavors. 

Your laugh echoes through the room, cutting through the tension like a knife. Beckett flinches, his expression shifting from hopeful to crestfallen in an instant. His cheeks flush even deeper, and he looks down at the floor, his hands fidgeting nervously.

"A date?" you say, again, unable to hide the incredulity in your voice. "You think after last night, we should go on a date?"

Beckett swallows hard, his eyes still downcast. "I just thought... maybe we could start over. Get to know each other better."

You let out an exasperated sigh, running a hand through your hair. "Look, I get it. You're a nice guy, and maybe in another life, things would be different. But I don't do dates. I don't do relationships. I'm here for a good time, not a long time."

He looks up at you then, his blue eyes wide with a mix of hurt and determination. "But why not? What's so bad about trying to get to know someone? To see if there's something more?"

You can feel your patience wearing thin, the frustration bubbling up inside you. "Because I don't have time for that. I have my life, my career, my friends. I don't need complications. Last night was supposed to be fun, simple. And it wasn't."

Beckett takes a deep breath, clearly gathering his courage. "I get that, but maybe... just maybe, we could be good together. I felt something last night, even if it was awkward and messy. Didn't you feel it too?"

“Look, no hard feelings, but I believed stuff like that at your age too. All that ‘meant to be’ shit, but, guess what? I got dumped. Shit happens, Beckett, and I don’t want you wasting your time on someone like me. I mean, look at me, I get drunk and pounce on random guys in Vegas. I’m a mess.” You end up monologuing, pacing along with it, the words endlessly flowing as Beckett looks at you wide-eyed.

Beckett flinches at your tone, his shoulders slumping further. "I understand," he says quietly, though it's clear he doesn't. "But I thought maybe we could be different. That we could... I don't know, figure things out together."

You stop pacing, turning to face him with a sigh. "And what if we can't? What if this ends up being another mess? I'm not looking to fix anything, Beckett. I'm not looking for someone to fix me."

"I'm not trying to fix you," he insists, finally meeting your gaze. "I just... I like you. I think you’re beautiful, and even though you were absolutely wasted last night, I can tell you’re a good person, too.”

You scoff along with a chuckle. “Just because there’s an Eiffel Tower outside, doesn’t mean that we’re in the city of love, babe. Now, can you just go live your life and leave me alone, please?”

Beckett's shoulders slump, and he takes a deep breath, clearly gathering the last of his courage. "I get it," he says softly, his voice barely audible. "I really do. But I still think you're worth the risk." With that, he turns and walks away, leaving you standing there, your frustration boiling over.

You watch him go, a mix of anger and confusion churning in your gut. You can't believe this kid—this barely-adult—had the nerve to suggest something so ridiculous. Who does he think he is, trying to swoop in and "fix" you? The very idea makes your skin crawl.

***

Tonight

After a long day of walking the strip, where the neon lights blazed and the city’s cacophony thrummed through your bones, you finally trudge into your new hotel, exhausted. Your feet ache from the endless parade of shops, your senses are dulled by the not-so-discreet drinks you indulged in, and all you crave is the solace of your room, a comforting meal from room service, and the promise of sleep before your flight home in the morning. But that’s when you see him.

Beckett is sprawled out on one of the lobby couches, limbs askew, wearing a hockey jersey that makes you cringe. The garish colors clash horribly with the elegant decor of the lobby, and for a moment, you consider just leaving him there, not wanting to deal with the hassle. However, the outline of his phone and wallet in his pocket catches your eye, and you can’t help but imagine how terrifying it would be to wake up and find them gone, lost to the myriad of opportunistic thieves in Vegas.

With a resigned sigh, you approach Beckett, shaking your head at the sight. "Hey," you say, gently shaking his shoulder. "Wake up."

Beckett stirs, blinking groggily up at you, his eyes bleary and unfocused. "Huh? Oh, it's you," he mumbles, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. "What time is it?"

"It's late," you reply, your voice softer than you intended. “Why are you in my hotel? Stalker much?”

Beckett's cheeks flush with embarrassment, and he shifts uncomfortably on the couch. "I'm not stalking you," he mutters defensively. "I was already here. After party. I went to an… event.” He says groggily, sitting up.

You laugh, crossing your arms, “Oh yeah? What kind of event does some eighteen-year-old kid have to go to in Vegas?” You question, gesturing to his jersey, “An Anaheim Ducks watch party?”

Beckett frowns, blinking sleep out of his eyes as he sits up straighter. “No, it’s not even hockey season,” he corrects you, running a hand through his tousled hair. “You know the team?”

You sigh, softening a little. “I live in LA. Would be kind of weird if I didn’t.”

Beckett’s eyes widen, and he immediately leans forward, “Really?” he asks, his expression lighting up.

You raise an eyebrow as you study him, “Yeah? What, you gonna try to find me now? Take me to a romantic dinner?”

Beckett shakes his head again before gesturing to his jersey, “No, I uh… just got drafted. Hence, the jersey.”

Your eyes widen in surprise. "Drafted? Like, to the NHL?"

Beckett nods, a shy smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Yeah, the Ducks picked me up,” he says, holding up three fingers, “Third overall.”

Your eyes widen even further, your initial frustration beginning to melt away. "Third overall? That's... wow, that's impressive," you admit, genuinely impressed despite yourself.

Beckett shrugs, trying to downplay it, but there's a proud glint in his eyes. "Yeah, it's pretty crazy. Still getting used to the idea."

You nod slowly, taking in the news. "So, you're not just some random kid," you muse aloud. "You're actually going places. That’s why you’re in Vegas?”

Beckett nods, his expression a mix of pride and nervousness. "Yeah, for the draft," he replies, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "I was celebrating with a few friends here tonight, but... well, they left early."

You raise an eyebrow, noting the slight defensiveness in his tone. "Left you hanging, huh?" you remark, a hint of sympathy creeping into your voice despite your earlier frustration. "That sucks."

"Yeah," Beckett admits, his shoulders slumping a little. "It does. But... it gave me some time to think."

You watch him carefully, unsure where this conversation is heading. "Think about what?" you prompt, genuinely curious now.

Beckett hesitates, chewing on his lower lip as he searches for the right words. "About us," he admits finally, his eyes meeting yours with a mix of vulnerability and determination.

Your heart skips a beat, caught off guard by his honesty. "Us?" you echo, your voice softer than before. "Beckett, there's no 'us.' Last night was... a mess."

"I know," Beckett agrees, his voice earnest. "And I'm sorry about that. I was... overwhelmed. But I can't stop thinking about you, about how things could've been different."

You sigh, torn between frustration and a strange sense of curiosity. "Beckett, I'm not looking for anything serious," you say, trying to be clear despite the conflicting emotions stirring within you. "I told you that."

"I know," he acknowledges, his gaze unwavering. "But maybe we don't have to define it right now. Maybe we can just... see where things go."

You hesitate, chewing on your lower lip as you consider his words. A part of you wants to push him away, to stick to your rules and avoid any potential mess. But another part of you—the part that felt a spark of connection last night—wonders if there might be more to explore.

“Goodnight, Beckett,” you finally say, quietly, patting him on the shoulder as you begin to stride off. “I’ll see you on TV one day.”

***

The next morning - Las Vegas International Airport

Well, this was it. You were going home after a weekend in Vegas that was both uneventful and extremely eventful at the same time. The vibrant lights of the strip and the distant echo of slot machines still linger in your mind as you sit at your gate, the screen flashing ‘Los Angeles’ in bold letters. The cacophony of announcements, chatter, and the occasional wail of a child fills the air, but you try to tune out all the noise and relax.

Suddenly, someone slides into the seat beside you, and you look over. Immediately, you groan. Beckett settles into the seat beside you at the airport gate, looking a bit sheepish but determined. His hair is tousled from a night of restless sleep, and he's wearing a hoodie emblazoned with the Anaheim Ducks logo. You feel a mix of annoyance and curiosity as he sits down without a word. Before you can speak, he breaks the silence.

"Fancy seeing you here. I’m on this flight too,” Beckett starts, speaking confidently. This is different from the shy, flustered young man you met two nights ago. This man knows what he wants and he’s making sure you know it.

You raise an eyebrow. “Is this that ‘professional athlete’ superiority that all of you eventually get?” you reply, your tone sarcastic.

Beckett chuckles softly, shaking his head as he looks at you with a playful glint in his eyes. "Nah, this is just me trying not to let you slip away without giving me a fair shot," he replies, his voice earnest yet laced with humor.

You roll your eyes, trying to maintain a semblance of annoyance despite the warmth spreading in your chest. "Give you a fair shot? We barely know each other," you retort, crossing your arms defensively.

"That's true," Beckett acknowledges with a nod, his expression earnest. "But I want to change that. I want to get to know you better."

You sigh, feeling conflicted. "Beckett, I told you—"

"—that you're not looking for anything serious," he finishes your sentence, his voice gentle yet determined. "I remember. But I’m not asking you for much. One date.”

His sincerity catches you off guard. You study his face, searching for any hint of insincerity or game-playing, but all you find is genuine earnestness and a touch of nervous hope.

"You're persistent," you remark finally, unable to hide a small smile. "Most guys would have given up by now."

Beckett shrugs, a self-deprecating smile quirking his lips. "I guess I'm not most guys," he replies softly. “And when I tell you you are the most gorgeous woman I have ever seen, I mean it. I would never forgive myself if I let you leave without another word.”

You pause, surprised by Beckett's sudden confession. His words catch you off guard, and for a moment, you're at a loss for what to say. The sincerity in his eyes is undeniable, and despite your reservations, a part of you is intrigued by his persistence.

"I... Beckett, I appreciate your honesty," you begin cautiously, your voice softening. "But you barely know me. Why are you so sure about this?"

Beckett takes a deep breath, his gaze steady as he meets your eyes. "I know what I felt when I met you," he admits earnestly. "It's rare to meet someone who challenges me like you do. And... I want to take that chance, even if it's just one date."

His vulnerability tugs at something inside you. You've always been guarded, especially after getting heartbroken all those years ago, but Beckett's openness is disarming. You end up laughing, “Okay, are you sure that ‘feeling’ wasn’t just you being horny?”

At that moment, the boy you met a few nights ago comes back as his cheeks tinge pink. “No!” he exclaims, nervously, “I mean… maybe a little, but that’s definitely not why I want to take you out.”

You chuckle softly at Beckett's flustered response, finding his awkward honesty oddly endearing. Despite your initial annoyance, his sincerity begins to chip away at your defenses. “You do know how old I am, right?” you question, still wondering why he’s so sure about this.

Beckett's cheeks flush deeper as he nods, clearly embarrassed but determined to continue. "Yeah, I know," he admits, his voice steady despite his nervousness. "You're older than me, but age doesn't really matter to me. What matters is getting to know you better, seeing where things could go."

You tilt your head, studying him intently. His earnestness is undeniable, and despite your initial reservations, you find yourself intrigued by his persistence and sincerity. "You're quite the charmer, aren't you?" you tease lightly, trying to lighten the tension that's built between you.

Beckett chuckles nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm trying," he admits, his gaze earnest as he meets your eyes. "Look, I get that you've been through some stuff. So have I, in different ways. But... I can't stop thinking about you. And I don't want to wonder 'what if?'"

His words strike a chord within you. The familiarity of unresolved questions and missed opportunities resonate, and for a moment, you find yourself considering his proposal. "One date," you finally concede, your voice softer than before. "But I'm not making any promises beyond that."

A bright smile spreads across Beckett's face, genuine and relieved. "One date is all I'm asking for," he agrees eagerly. "Thank you."

And as he smiles at you, all boyish and bright-eyed but with a deeper maturity within, you know he’s right. 

This isn’t like anything you’ve felt before.

[gretavanmoon]

A Perfect Ten - Part 1

Josh x female reader - FWB

8.4k words

+ So this story started out as part of the Fidelity Series, but after a few asks for a part two, I figured why not, let's rebrand it a little bit ;) Story loosely based off of "Finish What Ya Started" by Van Halen

+ After befriending your coworker Josh at your new workplace, the both of you realize you need each other in more ways than one. Things might get a little cloudy as an ongoing judge of actions takes place, leaving the both of you wrapped up in a back and forth neither of you saw coming.

Warnings: Smoking, Drinking, Cursing, Drug Use, Mention of Breakups and Heartbreak, Sadness. Smut: Kissing, Touching, Dirty Talk, Praise, Heavy Flirting, Oral M!receiving

New town, new job, new life. 

That’s always how things went in the movies, and every time, the girl always got her happy ending.

The idea is there, and you were beyond ready to do whatever it took to make it happen. How hard can it be, right?

After you’d managed to knock the first new off your list when you moved out of your ex’s house and to the next city over, the “job” part was next in line. After a week of filling out applications, you finally landed on the perfect selection, a serving job at Angelo’s Pizza.

You’d started this new job about about three months ago, and you finally felt like you were getting your footing with the flow of things. You’d been a server for as long as you could remember, but getting used to a new restaurant with new people and new menus and management could sometimes prove to be difficult. You were handling it with as much grace as you could, and the money was killer, so you stuck it out.

“You coming to the bar with me tonight?” your new favorite coworker, Josh asked as he stared into the kitchen from the expo window, rolling a pile of round coasters across the countertop. 

“Mmmh…” You mumbled under your breath. “I dunno, I’ve been here since lunch and my feet are absolutely killing me.”

”Ugh don’t be such a prude, Y/N,” he responded, taking a pepperoni and cheese in one hand, and a supreme in the other. “We’ll be sitting down the whole time. Ya know. In barstools.”

“Shut the fuck up,” you teased, elbowing him in the ribs. “I guess so, but I can’t stay out late like last weekend. I open tomorrow.”

“Oooo, a clopen. That sucks. Well, I don’t. So I can get drunk, and you can watch me.” He flashed you a giant smile before taking off with the pizzas in hand, disappearing into the sea of people seated in the crowded restaurant.

Josh had befriended you on your very first day, comforting you after your manager harshly scolded you for ringing something in incorrectly. 

“Don’t worry about it,” he’d said as you pouted in the chilly walk-in. “I still fuck my shit up all the time. The cooks don’t really care, plus if you mess somethin’ up, we get to eat the fucked up pizza.” That was the only thing he said to you the entire day, but it really stuck with you, immediately making you feel a lot better about your tiny mistake. 

Now, after a few months of working side by side with Josh, you’d actually gotten to know each other fairly well, and you’d even go as far as calling him one of your good friends. You’d managed to get to know all your coworkers on a surface level, but Josh actually took the time to listen to you when you spoke, and showed real interest in the things you had to say, no matter how menial. 

He was cute, and around the same age as you, but there was something about Josh that you couldn’t put your finger on. It was something that struck you, making him stand out from the rest of the guys you worked with. His aura pulled you in, and the way his eyes sparkled in the neon that covered the walls of the restaurant didn’t help the fact that he sometimes made your heart skip a beat. You decided that it was just his looks, though, catching you off guard every once in a while as you were around him more. Most importantly, he made you feel welcome. Like a good friend should. 

The more you got to know Josh, the more open he became with you, and you quickly learned that his real personality outside of work was a little bit different than when you were on the clock. It’d become almost a habit, now, joining Josh at his favorite dive bar down the street when you’d both end up on the same closing schedule. It was like Groundhog Day, Josh would ask you to come out, you’d find an excuse to turn him down, but you always left Angelo’s with your hand in his as you tiredly dragged yourselves down the street. Sometimes other coworkers would join you, but it was always the two of you left shutting the bar down, joking and laughing with one another as you waited for your Ubers.

Josh was quickly becoming a norm for you. A fun, platonic norm. And though you were both flirty with one another, it never felt as though it would go past anything but that. Just friends. And you were very content with that. 

So tonight, as things wound down and the patrons closed out their tabs, you felt as if you really could use a nightcap or two to reward yourself for not making even one mistake on your orders today.

As you tied the oversized trash bag closed, you met eyes with Josh as he skillfully swiped the mop across the sticky, sauce-covered floor. 

He grinned when he saw you looking, making your stomach drop. “What?” He asked, biting his lower lip in as he staved off a full-on smile.

“Nothing. Just thinking about how you roped me into going out again tonight,” you said with faux aggravation.

Josh sucked in his teeth as he plopped the mop back into the big yellow bucket, rolling it over to where you stood. “Actually, I asked you out with me for another reason. I wasn’t kidding when I said I was gonna get absolutely shit hammered, tonight.” His tone was serious rather than silly, and you instantly felt like something was wrong.

“What’s the other reason?” You pressed, lifting the bag from the can. “Everything okay?”

He shook his head and swallowed, opening the double doors to the kitchen to go and dump his bucket. You followed closely behind him with your trash. 

“Eh, not really. I’ll tell you all about it when we get there. Let’s lock this bitch up.” He flashed his eyes to the floor as he spoke, which was unlike him. He always spoke with such confidence and effortless ease that his dismissal of looking you in the eye struck you as strange. 

The two of you finished up your closing tasks and said goodnight to the line cooks, grabbing up your things from your lockers and stuffing your aprons back inside. Josh was quiet the whole time, again striking you as out of the ordinary. You hadn’t known Josh long, but you did know him well enough to know that something was off, and he wasn’t handling it well.

“Think I’m going straight for liquor tonight,” he said as you walked arm in arm down the crowded sidewalk to the bar. He tilted his head back, blowing a puff of air above you as if he was trying his hardest not to cry.

“Damn,” you answered. “You must really be going through it, friend.” It was also unlike Josh to drink liquor; each time you were around him, he’d always chosen draft beer. 

You both stepped inside the dimly-lit dive bar, letting the old smoky smell and sticky floors envelop you in their right-at-home feeling. You both took up camp on two stools at the end of the bar, closest to the back wall. The bartender Roy approached you, throwing down two bar napkins in front of you as you got comfortable in your seats. 

“Evenin’, guys. Sex on the Beach andddd, Josh, we’ve got a Kolsch and a pale ale on tap, and also a—“

“Jack Daniel’s. Neat, please,” Josh interrupted Roy, causing him to contort his face with surprise. 

“Been waiting on you almost five years and never known you to drink liquor. But, alright…” Roy responded as he left for a minute, returning and placing your drinks in front of you. “I’ll keep the tab goin’.”

It was silent between the two of you for the first couple of minutes, both of you sipping your drinks as you relaxed your muscles from the long workday. Finally, you decided you would have to be the one to speak first, for once. 

“Okay, spill. What’s got you on the hard stuff tonight?” you asked, turning to face Josh in your stool. 

He leaned on his elbow, his tight black t-shirt squeezing his toned arm just right. “I got dumped last night.” 

You felt your eyebrows jump to your forehead. “What?! Oh my god, I’m so sorry, Josh…I didn’t even know you had a—“

“Nah, it��s okay. I could kinda tell shit was going sideways, anyway, ya know? Almost expected it. But, still doesn’t make it hurt any less.” He disconnected his eye contact, tilting his glass back all the way and finishing off the last bit of his whiskey. 

You were almost stunned speechless. You hadn’t seen Josh show any emotion that even came close to sadness before, and you struggled with how you were going to react. 

Roy brought the bottle of Jack over, filling Josh’s glass with another two fingers. Roy gave you a quick look of intrigue, questioning Josh’s actions in the same way that you were.

“How long were you together?” you asked, tiptoeing with caution, given that he might not want to go into much detail. 

“Four and a half years,” he said blankly. 

“My god, are you serious?!” you choked out with disbelief. 

He nodded hard as he kept his eyes trained on the bar in front of you, spinning his stool in tiny tight circles. “Yeah. Long time.” He sipped his drink again. 

“I really am sorry, Josh. That’s a long time to be with someone for it to just...” you placed a hand on his arm as you spoke. 

He crossed his arms in front of him. “Yeah, it’s fucked,” he growled, leaning back in his stool. 

“You wanna talk about it?” you asked. 

“No, that’s why we’re here.” He slammed his hands on the bar top, motioning for Roy to refill your already almost empty cocktail. 

Roy brought your new drink over, stirring the drink with the tiny straw for you. Josh lifted his glass into the air, forcefully clinking it against yours. “To moving on!” He said, finishing the drink off once again. 

——

An hour or so later, you and Josh had managed to find yourselves significantly intoxicated again, engaged in a deep passionate debate. 

“Ever since they banned smoking indoors, the American bar scene has been fucked!” Josh drunkenly yelled overtop of the loud music and large crowd that had joined you inside the bar. 

You had to laugh. “Josh, not everybody loves breathing that shit in! It makes some people really sick!” you challenged. 

“Ah, hell. You come into a bar, you expect to be around smoke, all there is to it. All there is to it!” He crossed his arms and shrugged his shoulders in defiance of your argument. 

“You can go outside and smoke, Josh. Easy as that. Just get over it!” The two of you were glassy-eyed and giggly, feeling your liquor take hold of you as you talked. Josh brought about a warmth in you that you’d never experienced before, and you’d be lying if you said your…attraction? to him wasn’t amplified when you were drunk. 

No, not attraction. 

Something else…

You had no idea what to label the feeling, because you’d never felt it ever before. You took it in stride, though, embracing the completely new emotion as it came. It was almost like you craved his attention, and fed off of him engaging with you. You wanted to please him, but not in such a way that was sexual. 

…You didn’t think. 

No. You just craved his recognition. Wanted his eyes on you and no one else. Wanted to make him laugh, be the one who made him forget about everything else. It wasn’t a jealousy thing, it was a matter of possessiveness. You wanted to protect him like a best friend. And anyone who dared cause him unhappiness would have to deal with you. 

‘Is this insane thinking?! Am I crazy for this?’ You drunkenly asked yourself as you washed your hands in the bar bathroom sink, giving yourself a disapproving look in the mirror. Probably, maybe…but he seems to feel the same about you... You had noticed that the second you’d inadvertently struck up a conversation with another guy at the bar, Josh quickly stole your attention away again, bringing up a whole new topic of conversation that had nothing to do with the last. 

He charmed you. Drew you in. Challenged your thoughts and opinions…made you talk like you’d never talked before. Laugh like you’d never laughed. 

“You’re really smart, Y/N. I didn’t really notice that about you, before,” Josh smiled as he leaned over toward you on the bar. His cheeks were tinted the prettiest pink from the alcohol, his eyes twinkling from the flash of the old TV above you.

“Uhh, thanks, I guess?” you chortled, feigning being offended. 

“No I mean, you surprise me. Keep me guessing, every time I turn around. Never had a friend like that before. I’m usually so bored with everyone I meet. You make me like, think. Ya know?” He explained as you nodded sweetly in understanding. You knew you were blushing. 

“Last call!!” You heard Roy yell across the still-crowded room. You made blurry eye contact with Josh again. 

“Damn, we didddit agin,” you stammered. “Let me pay, you’ve had a hard couple’a days.” 

“No no no, no you don’t. I asked you here, my treat. Plus, my drinks were fuckin’ pricey tonight.”

“But Josh, let me treat you, for once...” You jutted your bottom lip out as you begged him. You watched as his eyes landed on your lips, stealing his attention again. Suddenly, you felt excited. 

“Alright, alright. But I’m leavin’ the tip,” he agreed. “I just needed some sympathy…that’s all I wanted tonight.”

“And you got it, didn’t you? You forgot all about your messy breakup?”

“For the most part, yes,” he laughed. “But I like to look at the long run, ya know? Like to take each step, one by one. Let myself live in the sadness, as long as it helps me heal.”

You scoffed as you signed your name on the receipt and pulled your coat on. “Psh, Josh, didn’t you just cheers me and say ‘to moving on’?”

He stood from his stool, wrapping his right arm around your neck tightly. The smell of his cologne mixed with the remnants of pizza filled your senses, temporarily making you dizzy as he squeezed you in his grip. 

“I did, Y/N, I did. But I’m also drunk, now. Sooo. And also, I don’t really wanna go home yet. ‘M gonna walk you to your Uber then hit up Chauncey’s…they stay open ‘til 2.”

You turned in his grasp, your face within inches of his as he still held you tightly. “Don’t go back out, Josh. No sense in drinkin’ your sorrows away by yourself.” It felt like you were outside of your own body; all you wanted was to go home and strip down and crawl into bed, but for some reason, your mouth told Josh that apparently you didn’t want to go home, either. “Come back to my place. We’ll have one more drink, and we can share the blunt that TJ gave me yesterday.”

“TJ? The line cook?” Josh seemed surprised. “You letting strangers give you drugs now, Y/N?”

“He’s hardly a stranger, Josh. Why, you jealous?” You teased, while also testing the waters of what the hell this feeling the two of you apparently shared could actually be. 

“Fuck no, I’m not jealousss. I’m…I…” Josh opened his mouth, but nothing came out after that. “I don’t know, I just—“ You were still tightly wrapped up in the crook of his elbow, his face so close to yours that you could smell the liquor on his breath as he struggled to speak, his hooded eyes bouncing around the room as he slurred. 

You decided to save him. “It’s alright Josh. You don’t have to come over. I’ll smoke it allllll by myself…” you sneakily wrapped your arm around his back, giving it a couple playful pats. 

He looked down at you through his lashes, his jaw clenched tightly together as he pressed his mouth to your ear. “You really want me to come over?”

You nodded. “I do. Come on, it’ll be fun.” More than anything, you wanted him to know you were the reason he had such a good night, and the reason he was able to forget about his breakup.

“Okay, jackass. You talked me into it. Let’s go get high.” He released you from his grasp as you confirmed your Uber on your phone, and your overwhelming satisfaction of claiming his attention again propelled you out the door. 

——

“Cute place. You decorate it yourself?” Josh teased as you both entered your apartment. It was only half-decorated and you hardly had any furniture, spending most of your days working and saving up money to finish furnishing it. 

“Shut up, dick head!” You shoved him backwards as he laughed. “I haven’t finished making it cute yet.” You pulled the bottle of liquor from the cabinet, shaking the little bit that was left. “I know you’ve been drinking whiskey, but…vodka’s all I’ve got.”

“Ah, it’ll work.” Josh responded, plopping down on your couch. “M’already fucked with a hangover tomorrow, might as well do it up.” You caught sight of his pretty light brown curls sitting on top of his head, and you felt another rush of that strange excitement soar through you. 

You made the two drinks and joined him on the couch, pulling the blunt up under your nose as you breathed in its earthy scent. Josh took the drink from your hand, raising his eyebrows as he watched you smell the rolled marijuana. 

“TJ usually has good shit, I will say,” he winked, sipping his drink. 

You pulled your feet up underneath you on the couch, scooting yourself closer to him. “Thought you said I shouldn’t take drugs from strangers…”

“I never said you shouldn’t, I just meant that next time you should get your weed from me.” He spoke without a care, taking the blunt from your hand and bringing it to his own nose. 

“Ah, well I was unaware I could do that, Joshua.” You snatched it back from him, taking the lighter from the table in front of you and lighting the end of the blunt. You inhaled the smoke slowly, noticing that Josh hadn’t responded to you. 

You glanced at him, finding the most devastating half smile on his face. You swore you felt your skin tingle. 

“Did you just call me by my government name, Y/N?” He whispered, leaning his head down to you. 

You exhaled the smoke you didn’t realize you were holding, nodding slowly. “Yeah, you mad about it?”

You passed him the blunt. “Nah, kinda liked the way it sounded, actually.” You watched as his lips made a perfect O around the tip of the blunt, and you found yourself wondering what kind of lip balm he used to get them to look…like that…

You felt your eyes grow heavy as your first hit found you, the THC entering your system quickly. Josh must have noticed, as he giggled at your appearance. “Told you TJ had good shit.”

“I swear to god I’m already fuckin’ high…” you laughed, taking another big hit. 

“Mmm, no baby, you’re crossed. But not all the way. Yet.” Josh’s voice was gritty and buttery all at the same time. And the fact that he called you baby had you feeling that same feeling again. He calls everybody baby, though…all the girls at work…you’re not special. 

The two of you sat and smoked until the blunt was a roach, and the air around you was thick with haziness. Your entire body was heavy and floaty, and you swore you could feel the blood pumping through your extremities. The conversation with Josh was so easy, so effortless, and the way the two of you held the complete attention of one another continued to astound you. 

“So tell me about you. What’s your real story?” Josh asked, the both of you sitting facing one another completely, now. 

You sipped your vodka drink. “What do you mean, real story?”

“I only know a little bit about you, where did you come from? What’s in your past?”

You took a deep breath. “Well, believe it or not, Josh, I kinda just got broken up with recently, too.”

“No way, you’re kidding. When? What happened?” He pressed. 

“Ahh, about a month before I started at Angelo’s. I’m from about twenty miles away, up north a bit. Came here looking to start completely fresh. Still close enough to my family, if I need them. Ya know…” you trailed off. Josh’s eyes were telling you to continue. 

“I got dumped, too. After a year of being with him. I thought we were serious, but apparently not. It didn’t hurt me too bad, I’m alright. Liking my new life pretty well, actually.”

Josh dramatically leaned back on the couch cushion, throwing his free hand over his face. “Ugh, god…how embarrassing. You handled bein’ dumped like a goddamned rockstar. I’m over here down in the dumps.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “It’s okay, Josh. Four and a half years is a lot longer than one…”

“You’re right, I guess.” He sat back up, bringing his attention back to you. “So what was his reason? What was his last straw?” He asked, moving his face closer to yours. Your body was vibrating from the alcohol and the weed, and the presence of Josh sitting so close to you on your couch. You were positively buzzing. 

“He uh, didn’t really give me one. Just said it was over,” you whispered, feeling your emotions flying all over the place. Josh’s hand reached up, twirling a piece of your hair between his fingers. “He also said I was a bad kisser, or something stupid.”

Josh winced at your words. “A bad kisser? I highly doubt that, Y/N…” 

“And why do you doubt that?” You giggled. 

“Because. I have a hard time taking my eyes off your lips, I can only imagine how hard it would be to take my lips off of them…” he smirked a little, laughing through his nose. 

“You’re fuckin’ stoned,” you laughed, leaning your face onto his hand. 

“And? I speak nothing but the truth, baby.”

“Mmmhm, yeah. Shut up,” you complained. 

“I’m serious. I bet you really are a good kisser. That guy was just…stupid.”

“Maybe I’m a horrible kisser, how would I ever know?” You shrugged, feeling your body about to jump out of your skin simply from having this conversation with Josh. 

He held his first two fingers up, motioning for you to come here. “Come on. Show me how you like to kiss.” 

“What?! No, I’m not gonna do that,” you blushed, pulling away from him with shyness. 

“Baby, it’s me. I’m just trying to judge your kissing skills. I’ll be completely honest with you, tell you if that guy was right or not,” Josh said, holding his hands out to the sides. 

You stopped, staring at him through your slit eyelids, trying to figure him out. He met you with sincere eyes, and though you were both extremely intoxicated, you didn’t feel uncomfortable in the least. 

“I’m serious. Just kiss me,” he ordered matter of factly. “S’no big deal.” 

You took a deep breath, feeling the air surrounding you heavy with normalcy, but also heavy with yearning. 

You slowly pulled yourself in closer to him, gently wetting your lips as your mind went back and forth on whether or not to do this. Your breath became a little chopped, nerves bursting through the wall of your drunken carelessness. 

Finally you were close enough to feel his breath on your lips, and your hands naturally shot up to cup his jaw. He clenched it, his eyes falling heavy again as his breath caught. Your heart was absolutely pounding from your chest being in this close proximity with him. 

“Do it,” he whispered. “Show me.”

You finally let your lips press gently to his, your hands still cupping his jaw, as his hands sat comfortably in his lap. The feeling of them was exactly what you had imagined. Soft, supple, and sweet, with the tiniest bit of sting on them from the leftover liquor. You finally exhaled, pulling away a bit to gauge his reaction. 

“You can get into it, baby,” he smiled, urging you to push through your nerves. “I’m just here to help, s’just me…” his voice was like honey, the sound of it tearing through your body as he motivated you. 

You leaned in again, this time letting yourself be a little more brazen, a little more steadfast as you worked to prove your ex wrong. Worked to impress Josh. Worked to show him. You opened your mouth a little, letting your tongue skirt across his bottom lip. The flavor of him almost knocked you down. 

You began to get into it some more, letting your high take over, and letting your guard down as you found yourself really, really enjoying kissing him. You perched up a little bit, moving to your knees to get a better stance. 

“Mmmhmm… keep goin’ baby…” Josh mumbled when you broke away for a second. His words urged you on, and you felt brave enough to push your tongue further into his mouth, but only a little. You didn’t want to overwhelm, just experiment. His tongue met yours in the process, tasting each other for the very first time. 

Your hands curled up in his hair, squeezing at the roots a bit. He let out a little whine, so quiet that you almost didn’t even hear it. It ignited something inside you again, and you knew you had to drive it home. Had to prove yourself. You pulled away for a second, hissing in air as you bit his bottom lip, pulling it out a little and making eye contact before pressing into him again, both of you moving in such unison that you were fully involved in the sultry kiss, now. 

At this point you felt like you were teetering on the thin line of platonic kissing; you were still trying to prove yourself, but also…he tasted so good…

You felt the need to be touched. You reached down and grabbed Josh’s wrists, pulling them up to rest on you- one hand on your thigh, and the other around the back of your neck. You wanted reciprocation. He obliged, and as you licked into his mouth, his hand squeezed into your thigh, strong and needing. His fingers felt like burning embers on your leg, and you wished that you had changed into shorts when you got home. 

His hand pulled at the back of your neck, burying your mouths further into one another for a few seconds as you watched his brow furrow, his eyes peeking open just a little to take you in. 

“Fuck, baby…he was wrong, you proved him so wrong…” Josh said, smiling against your lips as he delved back in. Your mind was swimming from his words of praise, and you decided that though this was simply an act between friends, you knew that you could kiss him all day long, never tiring of the feeling of his lips on yours. You were completely surrounded by him, by his warming presence. His scent, his sounds, his touch… It was all too much. You felt like you were drowning in him, but you didn’t dare try to pull yourself from his waters. 

Your hands squeezed at his hair one last time as you let them drift down his cheeks and neck, tickling the back of it before rolling across his shoulders. You slowly brought them down to his pecs, and finally rested them on his cheeks again, pulling his face away from yours for a split second before landing one last peck. 

When you finally disconnected, you took in the sight of him…hair disheveled, eyes black and glazed, and his hands still rested gently in the places that you put them. 

“Holy fuck…” he breathed. 

“Oh my god, was it bad? It was bad, wasn’t it? He was right, I’m a horrible kis—“ you were completely cut off by Josh’s lips on yours again, this time forcefully pulling you into him. This kiss was pleading, unbridled, and wanting, and each time you pulled away, you both were panting with want. 

“What the fuck are we doing?” You breathed when you broke away. 

“Kissing contest,” he answered, his hand respectfully staying on the back of your neck. “I think I’m winning, though…” 

“Mmm, I don’t know about that…” you said with a bit more confidence in yourself after seeing how you made him feel. 

“Yeah you’re right,” he agreed through an inhale. “You’re kicking my ass at this experiment.” He drove his tongue into your mouth again, but it didn’t make you want to retract…it made you want to pull it in further. You began to feel the heat that the two of you were emanating, and the sweat that was forming on your skin. 

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t completely turned on, but you would never let him know that. You couldn’t. You’re just friends. One friend helping another get over his ex by having a kissing contest. Makes total sense. 

Finally you pulled away again, covering your mouth with your hand. You laughed, making Josh in turn laugh with you. “Well? What’s the verdict? Was he right?” You asked. 

“Fuck no, he wasn’t right. You’re a hell of a kisser, Y/N.” Josh’s smile stretched all the way across his face, completely blissed out in his high. His hand came up to shyly wipe at his eyes as he huffed a breath. “God damn, you left me a panting mess, baby.”

Your heart stopped at his words, feeling more confidence in yourself than you’d felt in a long, long time. Suddenly, the wildest idea to ever come across your mind escaped right through your lips. 

“Josh, we’re just good friends, right?” you asked. 

“Yeah, baby. Real good friends,” he wiped his hand across his mouth before extending both arms across the back of your couch. 

“Do you—do you care if I finish what I started?” you asked in an absolute moment of weakness. The look on his face turned up into surprise, and you weren’t sure how he was going to react to your question. 

“What uh, what do you mean, Y/N?” 

You moved toward him again, wanting to feel him again. Feel his hands on you again. Be the center of all his attention again. 

“Can you judge something else for me, Josh? I’ve always wondered how well I…performed…and who better to be the judge than my very good friend? Who will be completely honest with me?” 

WHO even are you?! You felt like a person outside your own body. The confidence he was giving you was…

“This ain’t no way to treat the broken-hearted, baby…” he replied, his voice a soft breath of air as his head lulled backwards. You paused again, unsure how to take him. “But I’ll be your judge…”

“Really? You will?” You asked, feeling vulnerable, but also wanting to show out for him. 

“Mhm. If that’s what you really want…” He bit his lower lip into his mouth, letting his eyes fall onto your lips like they had been doing all night. 

“Just friends…” you reiterated. 

“Just friends,” he parroted, lightly tapping your cheek with his hand. 

This was absolutely something you never did, and definitely wasn’t something you could ever even see yourself doing with Josh, of all people. You were supposed to be making him forget about his ex, letting him talk through it… hell, he was just dumped twenty-four hours ago. But there was something other-worldly spurring you on, whispering in your ear to just do it. And he was letting you. Was it wrong? Maybe, probably… but honestly, where was the harm in it? You were both obviously into each other, and as long as you were just making each other happy, you didn’t see anything wrong with it.

Besides, this new need to make him think about nothing but you at every single second was making your head spin, and you wanted his focus completely on you, right now. You moved to press your lips to his again, letting things naturally heat up so that you could continue on with your intentions. You took a deep breath, confidently removing yourself from the couch, placing yourself in the floor in front of him. It was at this second that you were extremely thankful for your liquid courage, and the fact that you were too stoned to care about much else besides pleasing Josh. He almost made it easy. 

“Ten,” Josh said out of nowhere. 

“What?” you asked. 

“I give your kissing a ten out of ten. Seriously,” he said, smiling from the corner of his mouth as he ran his hand along your arm, peering down at you as you kneeled on the floor. 

You felt your face turn beet red, and you halfway didn’t really believe him. 

“Stop playing, you don’t have to be nice,” you erred.

“M’not just being nice. Seriously, I rate it a ten,” he stated, and you knew by the sincerity in his voice that he was telling the truth.

“Wow. Didn’t expect that, honestly,” you pulled a few strands of hair behind your ear. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Now, you gonna finish what ya started, or not?” There was a darkness in his tone that you hadn’t noticed yet, and it made your stomach turn over with nerves. But even more so, it lit a fuse in your chest that was slowly burning, ready to explode at any given second. And with each passing minute, you wanted to impress him even more. 

You maneuvered yourself on your knees, gripping his thighs and pulling them apart so that you could place yourself between them. Your hands stayed there on his legs, squeezing and kneading at his muscles as you moved your hands closer and closer to where you both really wanted them to be. You could almost physically see him getting harder through his dark jeans, and you could hear his breathing picking up, too. 

You let your hands drift to his groin, squeezing the muscles there as he leaned down in his seat, giving you extra space as his head fell back on the cushions. You found the button on his jeans, pulling the fabric sideways and undoing the button with one hand and unzipping the zipper. 

“Damn, alright…” Josh laughed, holding his hands up. “Show off.”

You took that as a tiny win, and decided to keep it going, playing on his words from earlier. ‘You keep me guessing at every turn…’

You pushed your hair back behind your shoulders, and leaned yourself down, letting your mouth meet his boxer-covered dick. You nipped your teeth lightly at it, making him hiss. You could tell just from this little bit of contact that he was well-endowed, and you felt your mouth physically watering for him. You needed to taste him. Your lips bounced around, peppering little kisses all over… the indirect contact making his hips jut up a little. 

You sat back, motioning with your hands. “Pull them down for me,” you demanded of him, and he gave you the sneakiest smirk, leaning back and pushing his pants and boxers down far enough to spring himself free. 

You weren’t wrong. He was perfectly sized, and it reassured you that you were okay with going forward with this. What you did notice, though, was he wasn’t as hard as you wanted him to be. Your hands rested on his thighs again as you sized him up, licking your lips as you prepared yourself. 

Josh had been the one urging you on all night, but suddenly, it felt like there had been a little bit of a shift. You finally brought your moistened lips to him, licking little circles around his tip, starting slowly at first, then picking up a little bit of speed. You swirled and gently suckled, and you felt him take in a big breath of air into his lungs. You glanced up at him, finding him looking up at the ceiling as he bit his lips. 

“What’sa matter, Josh? You okay?” you pressed, knowing that you could stop at any second, if that was what he wanted. 

“No, yeah. I’m fine. I’m sorry, I just… this is the first time someone else…since…” he didn’t need to say anything more.

“God, yeah. I’m sorry, your breakup is so fresh, I’m sure this is more mental than anything, for you…” you agreed as you sat back. “We don’t have to–”

“No. Yes we do, Y/N. I’m just…” You could tell Josh was having a hard time with his words again, for the second time tonight. 

“Just what? You can tell me…” you tried comforting him, placing your hands lower on his knees.

He swallowed, placing a sweet hand on the side of your face. “This is the first time I’ve um…been…with a woman…in a very long time.”

“Oh,” you muttered, his sentiment catching you off guard a little. You hadn’t realized you never even asked the name of his ex, let alone any details about the relationship.

“But it’s okay, Y/N,” he smiled, letting his thumb brush your cheek. “I may be wallowing in my sorrows, but it doesn’t mean I don’t want this, want you to do this. Just…in my head a little bit,” he admitted, putting a hole through your heart.

You sighed. “It doesn’t feel wrong?” Your voice was tiny as it escaped you. 

He quickly shook his head side to side as he layed back on his elbow behind his head. “No. That’s what’s making me freak out a little, it doesn’t feel wrong in the least,” he swallowed. “Maybe I…Maybe I wasn’t as in love as I thought I was.”

You smiled a pitiful smile as you rested your elbows on his knees, taking a deep, recentering breath of your own as the heavy air fell silent around you.

“You’re really fuckin’ pretty, Y/N,” he complimented you out of the blue, his thumb still grazing your cheek. “And I’m really into you.”

“You are?” you asked.

“Yeah. I know we said we’re friends, but friends can do this. Right? Doesn’t stop the fact that I’m attracted to you.” His glossy words made your stomach do flips again as you realized maybe his feelings were the exact same as yours. Unexplainable, but still overwhelmingly good.

“Yeah. I really think friends can do this,” you agreed. And you were serious. If you were going to be this person for Josh, then he could also in turn be this person for you. 

“Plus, the feeling of your lips on my cock just now…” He laughed through his nose. “Might be in competition with your ten out of ten kissing. And you hadn’t even shown me what they could do, yet.” He stopped there, biting both his lips into his mouth as he slid his hips down again, cocking an eyebrow. 

Good god, you’d hoped he would have a little bit of a dirty mouth. 

“You want me to keep going?” You asked. 

“Fuck yeah, I do. I gotta judge your skill, don’t I?” He played, removing his hand from your cheek and running it through your hair. He gripped it a little, making you stiffen your neck. Your eyes flashed to his, and you didn’t even need to say anything, he knew what you meant. He nodded, giving you the go ahead, and you prayed that he wouldn’t remove his hand from tangling up in your hair. 

You slowly leaned down to him again, starting things up just as you had before. Your tongue swirled on his tip, wetting it in circles as you let the saliva build up in your mouth. Around and around you took it, descending further and further onto him with every rotation. You heard him breathe out, his hips shaking a little beneath you. As you got as far as you could get, you pursed your lips down, tightening them around the base of his dick before sucking hard, pulling up and off of him completely. His hand tightened in your hair, showing you that he was liking it so far. 

He let out a groan, followed by a little laugh. “Fuck yeah, Y/N…”

You quickly found a rhythm, letting your head begin to bob as you worked your tongue and cheeks, alternating forceful suction mixed with light little pops of your lips. His hips were jutting with every movement, and the sounds that were coming from him were enough to keep you going, keep you striving to impress him…

You took him in your hand, gripping at the base and using the saliva that had dripped down as lubrication to move your hand, twisting and pumping it. “Jesus Christ, you’re…” 

You took a second to glance up at him, seeing his jaw tightly clenched and his chest heaving with labored breaths. He brought his other hand down, pulling the hair that had drifted down away from your face, pulling it all back to the nape of your neck and holding it tightly there. You nodded, letting him know you were okay with him guiding your movements. 

“Mhm,” you hummed on him. “Show me how you like it.”

He let out a choke of breath and readjusted in his seat, spreading his legs wider for you. He gripped a little harder on your hair, pulling you up and across his stomach, your faces almost touching as he brought his mouth close. He didn’t say anything, just hissed through his teeth as he scanned over your face. He then used a little bit of force to push your head back down to where it was, and you resumed your work. 

Fuck, what the hell is happening… your chemistry with Josh was absolutely off the chain. You felt like you would follow every command he would ever give you, let him use you in the worst ways, completely trusting him to do as he pleased. You were absolutely yearning to satisfy him. 

“I’ll show you exactly how I like it baby, but this is your show, remember? You’re calling the shots…” he growled, his voice deeper and more grating than it was earlier. You shrugged one shoulder, replacing your hand around his base. You moved it up and down opposite of your mouth, making his whole body start to shake. Your tongue worked on him, as your mouth drifted down as far as it could possibly go, with the help of Josh’s light guidance.

The weed had contributed to your slow, languid movements while the alcohol made your inhibitions fly out the window… the beautiful combo of the crossfade sending you both into a blurry and slow-motioned entanglement. You swore you could listen to his noises and praises on repeat as they dripped from his lips, quiet and comforting, as devious as they were.

“So fuckin’ pretty, Y/N… so fuckin’ pretty…” he mumbled, lightly thrusting himself into your mouth as your neck began to ache a little. “Slow and steady, just like that…”

He puffed out a quick breath with a blow of his lips, and you could tell that he was enjoying himself just as much as you were. Normally, you would finish up the job, and expect repayment, but getting Josh to even feel the tiniest bit of pleasure at your hand was enough. It was that draw, that need to make him feel good. Keeping him and him only in the spotlight. And if you had to guess, you were doing a pretty good job at it.

After a few seconds, his movements became jostled, and his once slow grinding movements started to falter. You felt him start to throb in your mouth, and you knew it wouldn’t be long until he was crumbling beneath you, all at the mercy of your mouth. 

“Hey, you want me to–” he said, suddenly shuddering. 

You nodded again, pleading with him to let it all go. You wanted the whole thing, wanted him to have the full experience. You needed to see what he tasted like. 

His breath started to pick up as he gripped your hair tighter, his hips pushing his dick further into your mouth as you let him graze the back of your throat, tears pouring from the sides of your eyes. “Come on baby, come on… just a little bit longer…fuck…” 

Finally, he was letting it all go, filling up your mouth as you swallowed his bitter-sweetness down, savoring the taste of him on your tongue. His whole body went rigid as he came, shaking and jerking as you worked to make sure not a drop was left behind. You squeezed your hand around him, pulling him up into your mouth. His whines were like music to your ears, pathetic and pitiful as he worked to come back down to earth. 

“Son of a bitch, Y/N… that was…” he said as you sat back up, wiping your mouth off with the back of your hand. He caught your jaw in his grasp, squeezing your cheeks together and forcing you to open your mouth. He pulled you closer, bringing you in for a heated kiss that left you smoldering for him. 

When you finally pulled away, you met eyes with him, and you could tell he was completely blissed out. “S’been a long time since I’ve had anything like that.” He admitted, pulling your back up to sit by him on the couch again. 

He tucked himself back in his boxers but decided to forgo buttoning back up. “Really? Even in a four and a half year long relationship?” you asked. 

“Ah, I dunno. We were long distance, so… it was few and far between but. Really I meant being with someone who actually showed passion about making me feel good. You know what I mean?”

You couldn’t help but smile. That was exactly what you wanted out of this. For Josh to feel that you wanted to be there. 

“Yeah, I know exactly what you mean. I just…wanted to make you feel good,” you admitted, shrugging one shoulder up as you brushed your disheveled hair back into place. “So, what’s my rating, huh? Give it to me straight.”

Josh closed one eye and looked up with the other as if he was thinking really hard. “Uh, nine and a half.”

Your mouth fell slack, and you felt the soreness in your jaw joints. “Ah! Why the half?!” you argued. “Not a ten?”

He chuckled. “Would be a ten, but I only took away the half because I know that I won’t be able to feel you like that all the time.” You both stared at one another as you let his words sink in. 

Could you, though?

“And because I feel like you were holding back, a little. Weren’t you?” he pressed. His statement took you by surprise, because he was right. 

“...Maybe…”

“You shouldn’t have. It’s just me, remember. Guess you’ll have to show up and show out next time. See if you can get a perfect ten,” he said with nonchalance. 

“Next time?” you spat without a thought. 

He shrugged, squeezing his hand around your thigh. “Sure, why not? If you want to, of course. Might be fun to have a little situation we’re both comfortable with… no strings attached type thing…”

You ran over the idea in your head, not really seeing anything wrong with it. You nodded, agreeing with his outlandish proposal.

“But, there is one thing, Y/N,” he swallowed, awkwardly rubbing the back of his head. “Obviously I… um. I didn’t make you feel good, tonight. But, just give me some–”

You cupped your hand over Josh’s mouth. “Josh, honey, shut up. You don’t have to explain it to me. I understand, and it’s okay. If we’re gonna do this, it's all gonna be in good fun, right?”

He nodded from behind your hand. “Right,” he mumbled. 

“And I certainly didn’t feel uncomfortable with you, so. I’m pretty positive we could just sit here and look at each other and we would have a good time,” you laughed, pulling your hand from his face. He caught your hand in his, and gave it a sweet squeeze. 

“Not sure I’d be able to sit by you for too long without something happening. You’re a fuckin’ treat, Y/N. I swear.” His eyes traveled down your body again, and you watched his gears turn as his gaze drifted over your breasts. “Thank you, for tonight.”

“Thank you,” you whispered. “We still friends?”

He took your chin between his fingers. “Yeah. Good friends.”

As the air between you finally started to settle and the intoxication turned into sobriety, you realized that the night was nearly about to turn into morning. You didn’t have to be at work until 11, so you were going to be able to get at least a little bit of sleep before your shift tomorrow. 

“It’s too late to get an Uber, Josh. Just stay here,” you more demanded than suggested, pulling the blanket from the back of the couch and tossing it overtop of his lap. You stood, stretching your body as you made your way toward your bedroom. 

“What, you not gonna invite me to your bed?” He asked, throwing you off. 

“Uhh, I mean, sure–”

“I’m kidding, Y/N. We’re friends. Friends don’t sleep in beds together. Friends sleep on couches.” You watched as he burrowed himself under the puffy blanket and made himself horizontal.

“Maybe one day you’ll end up in my bed.” You tossed the joke over your shoulder, walking down the short hallway. 

“And maybe one day you’ll get a perfect ten.”

xoxoxo jules

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[trekmupf]

"We're all mad here" 🐇👸🔫🐯

Pro

The famous massage intro

Sulu and McCoy taking a lovely little walk together

Sulu is such a botany nerd; I love these small character moments

McCoy thinking he's loosing his last marbles

Spock literally thinking that humans go on shore leave to run up and down meadows like dogs

The way Kirk smiles when he thinks Bones is pranking him is lovely

Kirk's facial journey when he realizes McCoy and Spock played him

The first time Kirk calls McCoy Bones

The way the running is filmed and the way they run – and boy do they run in this episode

Sulu, gun enthusiast

The easy friendship between Kirk and McCoy- the way they joke and laugh with each other is so beautiful

McCoy is so beautiful in this episode, I could screenshot every second. He smiles so much and is so at ease, I mean

Continuing what we know from E3 Kirk wasn't the super cool Bro at the academy but actually the bookworm people bullied

Kirk saying that Ruth hasn't aged a day since they last were together ages ago, and the actress being the same age as Shatner when we see her... canon Kirk being into older woman okay.

McCoy rolled a natural 20 on charisma

me @ yeoman Borrows being super into McCoy's flirting: same girl same

Also I actually like that for once McCoy is the one having a little romance and getting to flirt / be desired, which is rare (because he's older and not the leading man; Tumblr, of course, disagrees)

every time the tiger is on screen I remember that Shatner literally wanted to fight it and it makes me laugh

fake character death trope! (also Bones is a beautiful corpse)

Spock like no offence lady, I'm to gay for this, Spock out

“Did you have fun guys?” “Yes we did Mr Spock” wink emoji implied, like you guys know it sounds like you had group sex right

the setting and scenery is beautiful and a nice change

the score underlines the whimsy and lightness of the episode

the premise is so silly but works well. I miss episodes like this on modern TV, just some downtime with no large scale danger, war or plot, just silly crew shenanigans that gives us more time to spend with our guys

sometimes Sci-fi has great special effects, and sometimes they just hold an antenna really close to the camera and call it a day and I love that

I'm Yeoman Borrows; Look at him being all happy

Con

McCoy's death has no lasting impact on anyone, it's just a short time plot device and then gets shelved for more adventure / silly time; Even though he does come back, I wish it wouldn't have been so trivialized here

weird wind chime sound effects of the planet

Finnegan as a character is super obnoxious and too over the top (which is saying something in the episode with Alice in wonderland)

especially the second confrontation takes ages, especially as we now have more pressing matters in the narrative

treatment of yeoman Borrows (We already know weird things are going on based on what McCoy saw, yet Kirk doesn't believe her and shows zero empathy towards her distress), also her main purpose is damsel in distress

Kirk is a bit slow to unravel the mystery and almost stupid at times? It might be excused by him using the opportunity to let go of his responsibility and being with Angela / letting out his anger with Finnegan

the amount of references and jumping between visions is too jumbled and all over the place, which is why the pacing is off. some bits are so short, they'd better be cut (Rodriguez side adventure) and some just go on (Finnegan)

Counter: Shirt rip Kirk

Quote: "You've got your problems, I've got mine. But he's got ours, plus his, plus 430 other people" - McCoy about Kirk Moment: Opening Scene, where Kirk thinks Spock is massaging him and being super uncomfortable when its a female crew member

Summary: Silly and light episode with no deeper meaning but some great character moments, funny scenes and further development of the interpersonal relationships

In another universe this is a classical painting

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[oliversrarebooks]

Hi!! so i recently just found your blog and i am literally in love with your work! i recently just saw a prompt that was like a musical villain who has the power to hypnotize their audience (and especially hero) through their stage performance or just by singing, and i was wondering if u you would like write anything based off that? totally fine if not, thanks queen!😁🤍

Excellent taste in prompts!

TW: mind control, imagery of restraints

She had to admit, she was happy to have a night off for a change.

Hero had been working very long shifts lately. Between the glue factory explosion two weeks ago, the string of bank robberies carried out by perpetrators who couldn't remember what they had done afterwards, and the return and subsequent defeat of notorious supervillain Radioface, it felt like she hadn't gotten more than a few hours of sleep in ages, much less time off.

The commissioner had noticed Hero's deterioration, as well. That's why she insisted that Hero take the tickets to the hottest musical act in town, the one that was sold out every night. She'd seen the act a week before, loved it, and decided that the only way to force Hero to take some time off would be giving her tickets she couldn't possibly refuse. After all, they were impossible to get unless you lined up all day or had connections.

So that was why Hero had dressed up in something other than her costume or training sweats for the first time in a long time. She was standing in the crowd near the stage, and everyone around her was buzzing with excitement.

"This is my fifth time here!" said a young woman wearing a bright yellow tank top.

"You're so lucky," said her friend. "I could've never even gotten tickets if it weren't for you."

The anticipation was so thick in the air that Hero felt like she was getting swept up in it too. How often did she just get to be a civilian, dressed in cute clothes among a big crowd, anonymous and mercifully free of responsibility? A night like this didn't come often, so she might as well cut loose and enjoy herself.

The lights cut, and instead of the commotion Hero expected, the crowd immediately went dead silent. The tension hung in the air for a moment before the stage lit up in a kaleidoscope of neon rainbow shapes. Synthwave music was fading in from the many amplifiers, and just as it reached a crescendo, a spotlight hit center stage, illuminating the city's biggest pop sensation, Siren Waves.

Her voice rang out clear and strong above the synths, launching into her first song, and Hero was immediately captivated. Her opening number was an aggressive song about power and control with a catchy beat and a great hook, and her voice was the sort that was borderline addictive to listen to. In her peripheral vision, Hero could see that the entire crowd around her was entranced and hanging on to her every word, and she could see why. She'd have to look up the artist on streaming later so she could listen to this during workouts.

Siren strode across the stage with flashy confidence, her glitter-encrusted outfit sparkling in the multi-colored lights, her cocky grin showing that she knew very well how much the audience was eating out of her hand. She went straight from her first song to her second without a break, this one with an intense, driving bass line that made Hero want to dance. Indeed, a good portion of the crowd was dancing in place to the beat, and Hero felt her own head bobbing before she could stop herself.

It really was fun to lose herself in the crowd, the beat, the colorful light show, and especially Siren's fantastic voice. She was singing about building something, hard work and devotion, and while Hero couldn't follow all of the lyrics, the way Siren sang them just made her feel good.

"Thank you everybody!" said Siren once the song finished. "For this next song, I want to slow things down a little. This is a song about feeling powerless."

A good portion of the crowd cheered.

"We all feel powerless sometimes," Siren continued. "And what a lot of people don't want to admit is that feeling powerless can be nice. It can be nice to have no responsibility, to relax and float along and let things happen to you. This is a song about that very special feeling."

The music started up again, but even though it wasn't loud and intense like the previous two songs, it was no less compelling. The slower song was a fantastic showcase for Siren's versatile voice. It was if all of Hero's cares and worries were melting away, and the only thing that existed was the music, the flashing lights, and the electrifying presence of Siren Waves.

Powerless... Hero certainly had experienced her fair share of that. Tied up, caught in traps, subdued with power suppressants, injured, knocked out... it drove Hero crazy when she had nothing to do but endure and wait for a rescue.

But...

...it could be nice, sometimes, too.

The beautiful voice and the lyrics were stirring up feelings in Hero. Feelings she normally liked to suppress. The idea that it could be nice to be powerless... that it wasn't so bad to be tied up, helpless, subdued... it wasn't as if she hadn't thought that before. She just had to save any of those thoughts and urges for when she wasn't doing heroics, for obvious reasons.

And these days, she was pretty much always doing heroics. No time for any of that.

No time to think about being powerless... bound... relaxing... letting go...

Siren's voice really was impossibly beautiful. Hero could listen to this all day. Hero could listen to this forever, really.

The thought stirred something in Hero's hazy mind. This voice... this song... it sounded familiar, didn't it? Siren was using her amplifiers to turn her voice into something synthetic, but the underlying quality of it... it was something Hero was increasingly certain she had heard before.

Where had she heard this voice? It was hard to concentrate, especially when it was so nice to stop thinking and drift along on the song. It was nice to think about times when she'd been captured and at the villain's mercy, writhing against ropes and waiting for a chance to escape, the villain whispering threats and promises in her ear.

Wait. Hero knew that voice.

Two years back, Hero had faced down a young woman with an irresistible mind control voice. It'd been one of her hardest cases yet, owing in part to the fact that each time Hero failed to catch the villain, she'd captured Hero and put her under her spell. Hero could still remember so clearly how it felt to be bound and gagged, listening to the villain's sweet hypnotic voice, her mind becoming hazy and floaty, her fight fading away as she succumbed to the villain's control. 

So good to be powerless. So good to relax. So good to stop thinking and be guided under a gentle hypnotic spell. 

Hero shook her head, trying to snap herself out of it. This was that same voice, she was sure of it. It was obscured with voice modulation, and the woman had disguised herself in flashy clothes and heavy stage makeup, but that was a voice she could never forget.

But wasn't she still in jail...?

...It was probably fine... she was here to have a nice evening off... she didn't need to do hero work... she just needed to pay attention to the concert...

She shook herself awake again. The amplified music was impossible to escape from, and she was already halfway under its spell. 

Powerless... so powerless...

No...! She wasn't powerless at all. She could storm the stage, take down the amplifiers, even just clamp a hand over Siren's mouth.

She was right in the thick of the crowd, though. All around her she could see glassy-eyed people staring up at Siren with utterly enraptured faces, swaying gently back and forth to the slow song. As she tried to gather herself and get closer to the stage, the zombie-eyed fans were unwilling to budge.

Why fight it...? Why fight it at all? Why fight it when it was so, so nice to just let the beautiful music take her away...

"Hey," said Hero weakly, shaking the shoulder of the woman in the yellow tank top. "You have to let me through. We're all being brainwashed by the music."

The woman managed to tear her eyes away from the stage, blinking slowly at Hero. "Yeah..." she said with a blissful smile. "I just love being brainwashed by Siren..."

Well, that definitely wasn't going to go anywhere. Hero was trapped in the hypnotized crowd.

Might as well give up...

No, she could use her powers to... to...

Sway gently to the rhythm of the music... let her mind relax... give in...

Hero looked up at the stage, the swirling lights, Siren's glittering makeup, and it seemed almost like the singer was singing directly to her. 

And all Hero could think about was how badly she wanted to be captured, to relax helplessly into inescapable binds, to hear that hypnotic voice whispering seductively in her ear. To give up all control, to not have to worry about the fate of the city or the danger she was in, to just let the music...

Let the music in...

A blissful, hazy feeling settled over her as she fell completely under the music's spell, forgetting why she was struggling. Why struggle against something that felt so, so good? The music was filling her head with all sorts of delicious, buried desires. As she stood there watching, letting all the tension drain from her tired muscles, she could practically feel the pull of soft bonds on her wrists, the touch of a hand on her head, the dizzying thrill of being at someone's mercy.

God, yes, this was what she wanted. So perfect.

The mesmeric song came to a close, but nothing was about to break the spell laid on the audience. "Thank you all for listening so very closely," said Siren. "My next number is a song I think a lot of you already know. It's a song about obedience and pleasure."

Hero felt a shiver run down her spine.

"Now, for this song, when I sing 'obey me,' you sing...?"

"Yes, mistress!" called out the crowd in unison. Someone very near Hero was yelling very, very enthusiastically.

"Very good! Let's try that again. Obey me...!"

"Yes, mistress!" 

"Obey me!"

"Yes, mistress!" Hero realized that the enthusiastic yelling was her.

"And we have a very special guest in the crowd today."

Siren was looking right at her and smiling, a wicked Cheshire Cat grin that made Hero weak in the knees.

"Come on up to the stage, sweet thing," she said, beckoning. "That's right, I mean you."

The crowd, which had been completely impenetrable just a few minutes before when she was trying to escape it, parted immediately to let her through. She took a few hesitant steps towards the stage, feeling as if she were sleepwalking, or deep in a dream. Hands were nudging her forward, encouraging.

Siren reached a hand down.

Her touch was electric, being so near to her intoxicating, and Hero helped herself be swept onto the stage.

"My special guest. I'm so glad to see you here," said Siren, and now that she was close, Hero could recognize those sparkling eyes, the ones she still thought about far too often. Without a doubt, it was that same villain. And judging by Siren's cat-that-ate-the-canary face, she knew that Hero knew.

Hero's mind struggled very, very briefly against the chains of trance ensorcelling her, as Siren drew her closer and turned her towards the audience. "Here she is! The city's pride and joy, the most hardworking superhero in the state. Everyone welcome Hero!"

The crowd went wild, and Hero stared out at all the blissed-out smiles, trying to pull her mind into gear. She was in her civilian clothes with no mask, and Siren had just announced to the packed venue that she was Hero. This seemed bad, really bad... but trying to think of how it was bad left Hero's mind hitting a wall of fog.

"I wanted to show my appreciation for everything you've done for the city, Hero," said Siren, pulling Hero in close and petting her hair, and oh, hearing her voice so close, her real voice with no distortion or amplifiers, was like having liquid honey poured in her vulnerable mind. "So this next song is dedicated to you."

Siren wrapped her arms around Hero as she sang the first sweet notes of her melody, and whatever remained of Hero's willpower was gone. Siren was singing to her of obedience, of vulnerability, of the sweet, irresistible pull of submission. 

Hero had been so, so exhausted. So stressed. This was what she needed, what she craved. She needed to rest her mind, let someone else make all the decisions for her. She needed the song to wash all her worries away. 

And she deserved it. She must deserve it, because Siren had brought her up on stage to sing so beautifully just for her.

"Fall to your knees for me," she sang, and Hero sank. The crowd felt like a distant memory as she surrendered to Siren in front of thousands of civilians. It all felt so completely and utterly right.

From her position kneeling at Siren's feet, Hero had the best possible view of the concert. There was nothing between her and the source of her euphoria. Here, she could lose herself entirely in the music, letting her mind ebb away with the hypnotic melody.

Hero didn't know how long the concert went on. She didn't care. As far as she was concerned, it could go on forever, the music driving her further and further into obedient trance, lights flashing all around her as her new master sang.

And then, it was quiet.

"Thank you all for coming!" Siren called out to the crowd, bowing. "Keep an eye on the mail for further instructions or free tickets!"

Hero blinked slowly as the neon light show stopped and the stage lights dimmed. She could hear the crowd shuffling out, far quieter than one would expect for so many people exiting a loud pop concert. 

She felt so disappointed that the concert was over already. It felt like it was over in the blink of an eye. Still, she had to do what her master wanted. She began struggling to her feet, her knees sore from the stage floor.

A hand on her head stopped her. "Oh, no, not you, my little hero," said the delicious voice. "I have a special encore for you and you alone to hear."

Hero's breath hitched with excitement.

"You're going to join me backstage, and I'm going to sing you into being my willing puppet to overthrow the city. Doesn't that sound perfect?"

The music was too deep in her brain for her to say anything else. "Yes, master, yes, it does."

[emeritus-fuckers]

„Souls on Fire” ♡ Yandere!Papa Emeritus I x Reader oneshot

Loosely based on the song Souls on Fire by Mad Gallica.

CW: gn reader. a feminine term used for reader. yandere themes. mentions of rituals. mentions of human sacrifice. mentions of blood. primo gets delusional. primo and reader have a significant age gap. yandere typical delusions. stalking. kidnapping. suicide. somewhat implied belief in reincarnation.

i. do you feel the burn between our hearts? souls on fire a strange desire

He remembered the first time he's met you. You were both in your twenties. He wasn't sure of your exact age back then, but he was twenty-seven years old. Secondo was nearing his first birthday, with Terzo's following three months later.

Both of his younger brothers adored you. You were a young Sibling of Sin, used to babysitting your younger siblings and cousins back at home before you had to escape, hoping to avoid a marriage your very religious parents have planned for you. You missed all the kids you'd take care of, so once you found out there was a nursery in the Ministry, you quickly signed up to work there.

You were amazing with the kids, they all absolutely adored you. Which, of course, didn't escape the attention of the higher ups. You were eventually made the nanny of Papa Nihil's two younger sons. They were such little sweethearts, you considered it more of a pleasure than a job. And as protective as Primo was of them, he trusted you with his brothers.

Perhaps... he felt something for you, too. Despite the little ones having a father (although giving Nihil that title was too much, in Primo's personal opinion), they didn't really have parents. Nobody knew where their mothers went.

Primo had to step up in hopes of saving his baby brothers the terrible childhood he had. He wasn't just their older brother, he was a fatherly figure to them, too.

Just as you filled in the motherly role, with how caring you were. And he adored that, adored you. He'd often hide somewhere, just to fondly watch you and the little ones. He loved to see them both snuggled up to you as you read them fairy tales.

You weren't as fond of that as he was, however, considering he never even spoke to you. He'd just watch you until his brothers noticed him and ran to him, hugging him tightly and giggling.

This lasted years. You'd take care of his brothers and he'd observe you. For the first few months, at least. After about half a year of taking care of the little ones, Primo started watching you even when you were alone. If he couldn't watch you himself, he'd get the help of one of the Ghouls he summoned.

You were always watched. No matter what you were doing, there was at least one pair of eyes on you at all times.

All because despite never speaking a single word to you, he believed your souls were connected.

And he fully believed that your heart burned just like his.

ii. have you given in to this ancient ritual? i don't know how long we've been apart but we're the same old souls playing different parts

The next time Primo saw you was many, many years later. It was his very last Ritual, the day Secondo was meant to replace him not only as Papa, but also as the new frontman of Ghost.

He saw you there, in the crowd. Very briefly, but he did. You haven't changed a bit since you escaped the Ministry all those decades ago. He remembered just how upset he was back then when one of his Ghouls informed him that you managed to disappear.

He had all the Ghouls hunt you down, only to find out that you decided to escape his gaze... permamently. He could only weep, holding your cold body...

Until now. Tonight.

You were there, right in front of the stage. As beautiful as you were when he first saw you, playing with his brothers in the garden. You didn't recognize him, but that was alright. It's been years, after all.

At yet, after all those years, Satan connected you again. It would seem that all the rituals and all the sacrifices have finally paid off. He was re-united with you. After all the blood he spilled for you... you were back.

And soon, you'd finally be in his arms, his lips on yours. Just as he has dreamed for all these years.

iii. same old souls playing different parts picking up the broken pieces of our hearts

You were scared, weren't you? You poor thing... You didn't remember him, did you? You didn't remember the love he had for you for all those years.

You had no idea who he was, but that was alright. He knew who you were. You were the one destined for him. You were his most precious darling.

He knew you felt your soul burning with passion, just like he did.

You just needed some time to realize your love for him.

You didn't have a choice in the matter.

~

Written by Nosferatu.

Taglist: @copias-fluffy-asscheeks @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @calliedion-dungeon @callmeicaro @thecuriouss @dio-niisio @ethereal-maniac @firefirevampire @mybotanicaldemise @emo-mess @natoncesaid @sirlsplayland @kirschface @lightbluuestars @igodownjustlikeholymary

[localspacelesbian]

SO MANY of your wips intrigue me but i must know:

andi mack merlin au ?!?! 👀

can you doordash a woman?

reggie’s song (oh my my my)

yeah, so obviously merlin is cyrus and arthur is tj, but it took me a bit to come up with a convoluted backstory to explain why they're in middle school lol (my initial idea had them in college, but it was a bit too far removed from either canon, so that got turned into something else) (basically, merlin accidentally de-ages himself and blows up his house, so his very kind child psychologist neighbors norman goodman and sharon frank, assuming he's an orphan who just lost his home, decide to take him in) i don't really know where i'm going with this, but here's a snippet:

Merlin put a hand over the spot on his head where it had hit the wall behind him when the potion exploded. His ears were ringing; his vision was blurry; his head was foggy; he felt like he was going to throw up. He recognized a concussion when he felt one.

He had a potion for that, but given the state of his kitchen, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to find it.

He sighed and rested his head against the wall. Great.

All he wanted was to go to go to bed, sleep it off, and try again tomorrow. But first, he should probably clean up his mess. Between the melted cauldron, the burning herbs, and the various other ingredients he didn’t like to think about, the smell was starting to get to him. He held out a hand and muttered a spell he’d done countless times before.

Nothing happened.

Merlin frowned and looked down at his hand, as if that was the problem. And actually, it kind of was? At least, it was a problem. 

Either he’d hit his head even harder than he thought, or his hands were smaller than they’d been before. He pulled up one sleeve, noticing it was now both longer and wider than his arm. Or, more likely, his arm was smaller. For some reason. And it wasn’t just that. His skin was smooth and virtually hairless, and his scars had faded almost entirely.

Huh.

That was… weird.

can you doordash a woman is actually loosely based on a true story about my friend sitting outside her apartment playing the bass while waiting for a doordash order, and then she and the dasher ended up flirting or something (i don't remember if they actually ended up doing anything more than that). and also another story from the same friend in which i learned that you can, in fact, order sex toys on doordash. so, uh, this one gets a little spicy... it's a modern au morgana/gwen. here's how it starts:

Morgana was alone in her apartment, scrolling absently through her phone, bored and maybe a little drunk. It was a Friday night, and she had nowhere else to be. She tried to tell herself that this wasn’t because the only person she had to go out with was her arrogant prat of a brother but because she simply didn’t want to go out tonight.

She definitely didn’t want to cook for herself either, though.

Without even really thinking about it, she found herself opening up the DoorDash app. She swiped through all the restaurants nearby, briefly considering trying something new before just getting the same thing as always.

Once the order was placed, it immediately suggested adding something else from other nearby stores. Normally, she just ignored this, but one of the suggestions gave her pause.

reggie's song is based on mary's song by taylor swift. it's an au where the boys didn't die, so they end up becoming friends with rose, and then julie grows up with them as like her cool gay uncles, so this is basically her writing 'reggie's song' about him and luke. i wrote this like 3 years ago and never finished it, but here's the beginning

“Hey kid. Whatcha workin’ on?”

Julie startled for a second and then sighed when she saw it was Reggie, pushing her glasses up and sitting back. “I’m trying to write a song for class, but I have no idea what to write about. It’s like, no thoughts, head empty.”

He laughed and made his way over to sit next to her on the couch. “What’s the assignment?”

“It’s supposed to kind of tell a story, but from someone else’s point of view. At first I thought maybe I could write about my parents, but that just made me sad.” Reggie nodded. She looked up at him. “Hey, you probably have a lot of stories that one could write a song about.”

He snorted. “Yeah, but I think Luke wrote them all already.”

She frowned, but then quickly looked back up at him with a mischievous smile. “How’d you and Uncle Luke meet anyway?”

“You’ve heard that story before.”

“Come on, please? Maybe it’ll give me some inspiration.”

[ask-serendipity-sky]

Het agenda who?

This was a surprise. A bold statement that Jk doesn't usually do by using clothes.

I never really thought that Jungkook dressed genderless like many think. I attributed it to being comfortable (being picky with fabrics and scents and all that) and possibly being sexualized at a young age so in a way, rebelling against that by wearing loose clothing during his own time.

So when I saw this photo, I thought it was interesting considering the fact that not too long ago, literally 2-3 weeks ago, Jk was being seen as heterosexual alpha male type due to the lyrics in his song and participation in a very tame mv.

Did you all happen to read this article by the Korean Herald:

They addressed Jk's new image:

I found it amusing that ran with this new image of Jungkook based on one song only. I'm remembering other recent fashion shoots and projects and he doesn't really come off as hot guy who ditched his pretty boy vibe. He was both.

It makes sense that the het agenda was pushed. But this all makes me wonder if they (Scotter and friends) were aware that this campaign was coming.

Because this whole look invalidates the Jk they think is needed for the western market. It's easy for Jk to fit the mold they have created because of his piercings and tattoos but he seems to revert back to soft masculinity. Like he's done in the past.

It makes me wonder if they see the mold is not needed? That what Jungkook has been doing and would do without their intervention is enough.

[writtengalaxies]

hey hey! im down for a little chat <3

-

i only found this blog like, 2 days ago but i can already feel myself getting the urge to go back and reread everything here. content of the highest quality over here <3 /gen

all the fics on AO3 would be really nice as well imo! although i cant say that i use the site that frequently, it could be a good way for others to find your works! at least thats how i see it

i think its due to how much i simp for this man, but i really love love LOVE the memory files. the trope is fairly common (from what ive seen) but the way you write it? chefs kiss. i am patiently but eagerly waiting for the next part mwah <3

the cup god chronicles were also a really fun read. i dont fully really see content (READ: fics) for him regularly so i was immediately intrigued and when i tell you, i was HOOKED. big fan, i love this doofus <3

-

now imma ask you something. who's your fave ego? my guess is engineer lol

also, whats your pronouns? i havent seen them listed anywhere ^^"

if you dont mind me asking, how long have you been writing? just in general. it seems like a basic Q but the answers are fascinating.

-

and as a last little tid bit of me im willing to share for the night, i read most of your works in around 2 hours. what that says about me is irrelevant,, goodnight, i hope this isnt too big of a text wall to answer <3

WAAAH thank you!! Also all of that in two hours?! Oh gosh! (And you're all good! I like big text walls!)

That was more or less my thought with posting them on Ao3! I know a lot of writers do cross-post them, so I figured "hey, why not". I...might end up doing that today, since I managed to pull a muscle in my back real bad in the night and I'm laid up in bed. gfhj

Ooooh, Lost Memory Files does tend to be a fan favorite. XD I'm really happy people like it! It...actually spun out of a similar idea but with Engineer and a Captain who can't remember wormholes and looping...heh. The next part, based on my loose notes, is likely going to continue the hurt.

Cup God Chronicles was really my first attempts at writing Night, the smug bastardass. The reader being a sarcastic little shit is in part I'm a sarcastic little shit, and in part based off of @ghostf1ux. I did notice there aren't a ton of fics for him that aren't...uh. Spicy. I have a couple more fics planned for it!

Favorite ego is 100% Engineer. "The smartest dumbass" was how I saw him described at one point and I'm like "yes. THIS ONE." There's something about like...realizing that even through all the hurt on both sides of that, he still fully trusts the captain? Despite everything. Never knowing the full extent of everything the captain goes through, despite his own misconceptions...

And well, hope is very important to me. So ISWM being very centered around never giving up hope kind of hit real hard, you know?

I DIDN'T REALIZE I DIDN'T PUT PRONOUNS ANYWHERE. ghjk WHOOPS. Honestly, almost anything! (My one exception is it/it's, and that's just because it doesn't feel like me. Big love to everyone who does though! Y'all rock it!)

I'm a genderfluid menace so they're always changing anyway!

How long I've been writing...the first thing I really clearly remember writing was either HP or Yu-Gi-Oh! fanfic waaaaaaaaay back in the day. I must have been about 10 or 11? So...20+ years at this point.

If I had to think about creative writing and doing it more consistently, that's closer to about...16 years? (I had to think about when I graduated high school and I felt like I aged SIGNIFICANTLY in an instant.)

One of my English teachers really drove a lot of confidence in my writing! Shout out to Mr. Craig, who liked some of my original stuff I had written for his class so much, he still has it and checks in from time to time on what I'm up to.

He's a big reason as to why I have an 111k original fiction novel and a novella I self-published for a while. He also did a front-flip off a stage with a lightsaber for a student-written play.

[justmilah]

Once Upon a Sailor Moon

So, no one asked for this idea I had literally years ago, but it was a way I could bring Sailor Moon (which I was watching at the time) to Once Upon a Time (which I was also watching at the time) in a way that was very Oncey. And it had actual little to do with the modern day Sailor Senshi goings on but had more to do with the mythos of what happened before. And since this is Once, the origin would have changed a bit.

So Princess Serenity, daughter of the moon goddess, fell in love with Endymion, the prince of earth. (Yes, it is loosely based off the Selene/Endymion Greek myth.)  There is a war over this, because a powerful sorceress loved him and felt scorned, and Endymion is killed. That’s all true to Sailor Moon. But after that, instead of Serenity ending up dead as well, she is so struck by grief that she cries for day and night for over a month and it floods the earth. (I was going for a Gilgamesh tie in I can’t remember any more, I suck at outlining.)

Realizing that humanity is about to be wiped out, the moon goddess herself banishes magic and whisks her grieving daughter home. The floods recede only now there are vast oceans and seas and rivers and lakes, and they’re all connected to the moon because they’re the daughter’s tears and-- okay it was just me going ‘hey this would be a neat way to tie in why the moon has an effect on water.’

So, since magic can’t disappear, the realms are created by accident. And it’s why the moon looks so similar in all of them - there is only one moon and it connects them all.

Then I had the idea that she would like Killian because when he burned the sail it returned the wings to her Pegasus friend, Helios. And she warns him that her cousin Poseidon is angry with him, but promises to protect his ship in repayment for saving her friend.

Then in modern times Regina remembers she’d caught her in a lamp before casting the curse (she’d been trying to catch the pegasus) and she’s now feeling guilty about it. And without magic in the land, the silver light around Serenity fades and her hair is now gold and she’s clumsy as heck because she doesn’t float anymore. And she is freaking out because she isn’t allowed to BE here, because she’s almost destroyed the world once.

Then it turns out the sorcerous had cursed Endymion to be born and die at the age of his original death for an eternity or until true love came for him, believing if enough lifetimes went by he would come around, but the problem is he never remembers her because it’s always a new life with new memories so he can’t, but he always dreams about the moon.

I think I was intending this to be between 4a and 4b, so just when Killian was starting to be trusted but still not quite trusted, so it would have been kind of...fun to see this tiny, bubbly, clumsy, friendly, so very extroverted moon goddess latch onto this guy a lot of people still saw as a murderous pirate because he once accidentally saved one of her best friends.

And then Season Seven had their own thing and I went ‘whelp, guess this will just live only in my head forever now’ only now I was finally able to share it because I remembered enough to do so! 

(And I don’t think Milah was involved because I got the idea for it before I even started writing her. I started plotting this 20 June 2017 according to Drive and my first Milah sideblog came about  6 July 2017.)

[winter-soldier-vibes]

I wasn’t there

Bucky x reader

Word count: 2510

Warnings: self harm/self harm scars, little bit of angst, mostly comfort, tears

Summary: Reader self harms and Bucky sees her scars one day on a mission by accident. He feels guilty and wants to help her as much as he can now that he knows. 

Based on the quotes: "Show me your scars, I want to see how many times you needed me and I wasn't there"

A/N: Thank you SO MUCH to the anon who sent this in! Not going to lie I was bawling writing this, I love it so much. This deals with heavy topics and mental health so as always, if you feel that reading this will be harmful to your journey in any way, please feel free to skip it. As always, I am here to talk about anything you guys may need. 

A/N 2: Ok there’s a part at the end that I don’t think is technically canon but it’s rumored and has been talked about before in regards to some of Bucky’s scarring on his left arm. I know it’s not a confirmed canon thing but it honestly works so well and I believe it’s true, please don’t come at me for that. <3

Tags: @buckys2thicc @thatfangirl42 @mardema @stucky-on-spiderman @barnesplums @peggycarter-steverogers @abitgryffindorky @buckfics  @freigeistundanderes  

Main Masterlist 

------------------------------

You trudged back to your room in the compound, exhaustion taking over your body. You had just gotten back from a mission that had taken the life out of you, more so than any others on the team. You had the power to control elements, but whenever you did it drained the energy out of you. At one point you had been surrounded, forcing you to lift the ground around you to knock everyone back. 

It was more than you had ever done at once, and nearly made you pass out. 

You were able to finish the mission, but you were absolutely exhausted, the worried eyes of Steve, Bucky, Bruce, and Natasha looking over at you. Nat was flying the quinjet, but still glanced back at you from time to time. Bruce was there mainly for medical help, as there wasn’t need for a code green. Steve was just Steve, being worried about you as your Captain. And as the friend of your boyfriend.

Bucky meanwhile would not leave your side. He was concerned, even after Bruce had determined you were nothing more than completely exhausted. He insisted on you lying down and him staying next to you. It was nice to know that he cared about you so much, he would do anything to protect you.

Which is what made your heart ache when you saw his face drop when you had said you were fine, and walked off to your room when you had arrived home.

It wasn’t that you wanted to be around him, not at all. It was just that you wanted to take a shower and wash the sweat and grime off of you, and you didn’t want him to see. Not yet, you hadn’t told him yet.

When you closed the door to your room, you peeled off your uniform, exposing your skin littered with scars varying in depth and age. You turned the water on and leaned against the countertop as you took in yourself. 

God, you hated them. 

You had struggled with self harm for a while now, but it was better than it had been before. It had been really bad before you had started dating Bucky. It’s not like it magically went away when you did, not at all, but just being around him made it easier. Him telling you how much he loved you, spending time with you, you helping him feel more secure. You weren’t alone in your head as much, 

He helped and he didn’t even know it. 

You traced your fingers over the most recent ones on your wrist from a few days ago. They had scabbed over by now, but the memory was still fresh in your mind. It was a panic attack in the middle of the night, and you didn’t want to wake anyone. You knew this would help you and it did. It grounded you back to the moment, calming you down as you focused on the stinging sensation rather than the panic. 

You looked down at all the other marks you had made. Most of them were on your thighs, because they were the easiest to hide. It was easier to wear pants in the summer than long sleeves. But you were running out of room, moving to your arms instead, trying to stay away from your wrists. But a few days ago you couldn’t even think about it through your panic attack. Sometimes you couldn’t think about it, being so overwhelmed that you weren’t quite aware of what you were doing until you saw the blood.

 You remembered making every single one of them. They all had a story, a reason. And all of them were different. 

You wanted to tell Bucky, you knew you would have to eventually. The two of you had avoided intimacy up until now, and slept in different rooms unless either of you was having a rough night and asked the other to stay. It wasn’t that you didn't want to be intimate with him, you had been together for months. But you had to tell him about this first

And you couldn’t find a way to quite yet.

You just couldn’t find the right time or words. You didn’t want to scare him off, and you didn’t want him to look at you in the sad, concerned way that people usually do with this sort of thing. You didn’t want to put this on him. And you for sure didn’t want him to blame himself.

You sighed, tearing your gaze from the mirror. You stepped into the shower, letting the warm water wash over you. You stood there like that for a few minutes before you moved to wash your body, taking your time. You had no plans tonight other than going to sleep. 

Bucky had watched you walk slowly back into the tower, wanting to follow you but also wanting to respect your boundaries and space. You were exhausted, but he wanted nothing more than to comfort you the entire night. But you didn’t want him too, and he wanted to respect that.

Still, it broke his heart to watch you limp away. He felt helpless. 

He couldn’t help but wonder if something was wrong with you. The way that the two of you had been together for as long as you had without some form of intimacy. He was patient, he would never want to push you, but he wondered why. Whenever the two of you had a conversation you had seemed to stiffen slightly and get uncomfortable. 

He never pressed it. Just dropped it and hugged you, telling you it was fine to wait. 

But the more time passed, the more helpless he felt. He felt like you were hiding something from it. He just wished he knew what it was so he could better help you. But in a way he understood. Everything that he had gone through - forcing someone to open up usually unintentionally makes them shut down. 

Even so, as he went back to his room he couldn’t stop thinking of you. He took his own quick shower, putting on sweats and a T-shirt before he came to check on you. He just wanted to make sure you were alright.

You had gotten out of the shower yourself, slowly drying yourself off before going back to your dresser to find something comfortable to wear. It was brutally hot and you were exhausted, pulling on a tank top and shorts. You were about to go back to lie down when you heard a soft knock on the door.

You sighed in frustration, closing your eyes for a moment. “Yeh, just a minute,” you said, exhausted, grabbing a pair of sweatpants and a loose sweatshirt to pull over yourself. You walked over to the door and opened it slightly, giving the man in front of you a tired smile.

“Hey Bucky.”

Bucky’s face softened, a small smile spreading on his face. “Hey doll. I - I know you said you wanted some time to yourself but I just wanted to check on you.”

You smirked at him slightly. “I’m just about the same as when we walked off the quinjet Bucky.” You shrugged, tugging your sleeves down - nervous habit. “I’ll be fine, I’m just really tired.”

Bucky looked you up and down quickly. “You sure?”

You hesitated a moment longer than you should’ve, quickly bringing yourself out of it. “Yeah.”

“You don’t sound sure,” he said gently. “Can I stay with you tonight?”

“Look I’m fine, I just want to go to sleep. I’m exhausted.”

“Please? Let me take care of you, it’s been a long day,” he said.

“You don’t have to Bucky,” you started, shaking your head lightly.

“I want to,” he assured you.

Sighing, you opened the door more to let him in. it wasn’t that you didn’t want him to stay, you did in a way. You always slept better with him there. You just really wanted to take off the sweats. But that would mean having a conversation that you weren’t ready for.

Sweat was better than tears.

You climbed into bed and Bucky laid down beside you, wrapping his arm around you. He kissed the temple of your head as you relaxed back against his chest. “Try to get some rest sweetheart.”

You hummed, already feeling exhaustion overtake you as you closed your eyes, drifting off to sleep faster than you ever had.

-----------

You woke the next morning feeling much better than the night before. You shifted slightly, feeling Bucky’s arms still around you. 

“Good morning sleeping beauty.”

“What? What time is it?” you asked sleepily.

Bucky chuckled behind you. “It is almost noon.”

Your eyes widened as you started to sit up. “What? I slept that long? How long have you been awake, I’m sorry -”

“Hey, sweetheart, don’t worry about it. I've been awake for a while but it’s no problem. You needed the rest and I’m glad you got it.”

You hummed again in acknowledgement, reaching your hands up to rub your eyes. What you hadn’t realized was that while you were asleep, your sleeves had ridden up slightly. You never had to worry about your wrists because you had never gone down that low on your arms. 

“Angel, what’s that?” Bucky asked, grabbing your arm gently to get a better look. You took your arm away quickly, tugging your sleeve down. You shook your head and crossed your arms as you stood up. “It’s nothing, really. I’m gonna go shower.”

“It doesn’t look like nothing,” Bucky said, standing and walking over to you. You tensed, and he noticed. “Did someone hurt you?”

“Please drop it Bucky,” you pleaded, still unable to meet his eyes. 

“Y/n I swear if someone hurt you -”

“I did it.” you blurted out, surprising you both. You took a shaky breath, and Bucky felt his heart drop, praying he had heard you wrong. 

“What?” he asked, barely audible. The only noise was your heart hammering in your ears. You swallowed, looking down at the ground and fiddling with your sleeves again. 

“I hurt myself sometimes,” you said with a small shrug. “It helps.”

“With what?” he asked, carefully. 

You met his eyes, tears pricking your own. “Everything.”

Silence. Bucky walked towards you slowly, pulling you into a hug, as you closed your eyes, silent tears falling. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t know how to.” you said simply. “I was embarrassed and ashamed, and I didn’t want you to blame yourself.”

He held you tightly, rubbing a hand up and down your back as more tears fell despite you trying to hold them back. “Can I see?”

You pulled back and tensed up, looking at him. “What?”

“Show me your scars,” he said.

You shook your head slightly, confused. “Why?”

“Because I want to see how many times you needed me and I wasn’t there,” he whispered.

You looked at him for a moment. “Bucky, I can’t do that, I -”

“Please y/n,” he whispered. “It’s just me.”

You studied him for a moment before nodding. With shaky hands, you pulled the sweatshirt over your head, dropping it on the floor and resisting the urge to cross your arms. You stepped out of your sweatpants next, keeping your eyes downcast. You heard a sharp intake of breath from Bucky, but you weren’t able to look at him yet.

Bucky felt his heart shatter at the scars littered across your arms. There were so many marks, he didn’t want to even think about how many there were. He felt tears prick his eyes but he knew he had to be strong right now. It pained him how much you were hurting and how oblivious he was. He took your hands in his, you still unable to look at him.

 “I’m so sorry it took me this long to be there for you.”

You shook your head, looking at him. “Don’t do that to yourself, please, it’s not your fault Bucky. You’re the reason it’s not worse.” You turned around and crossed your arms. “ I’m sorry, Bucky, I didn’t know how to tell you. They’re ugly, they’re disgusting. I’m disgusting. Who’s so fucked up that they have to slice open their skin to make themselves feel better? I hate myself more than anyone I’ve ever known. How pathetic is that?” 

“Y/n, can you look at me?”

Trying to blink back tears, you met his gaze again, his eyes glassy. “Your fight is our fight. None of this is your fault, don’t apologize for how you had to fight on your own. I’m here now, okay?” His hand ghosted over your scars. “These scars right here are your battle scars. They tell your story of how strong you are. Never be afraid or ashamed of that, okay?” 

You looked down, still embarrassed. 

“Hey, y/n. It’s okay.”

Before you could respond, Bucky took off his own shirt, something he had never done in front of you. Your eyes found the scars where metal met skin, most of them faded but had obviously been deep. You reached your hand out to trace over his scars.

“When they gave me this arm and they were starting to tortue me I would scratch at it. Whenever I had been out of cryo for long enough I would start to remember and claw at it too, before they wiped me again. I thought I was a monster.”

You shook your head. “No, Bucky that wasn’t your fault, you didn’t ask for Hydra to do all those things to you.”

“You didn’t ask for your mental struggles either. So why are you ashamed?”

“You didn’t ask for the metal arm, you wanted to get rid of it. It wasn’t in your control. This, what I do, I choose to do it every time. It doesn’t feel like a choice but I still pick up the knife.”

“But I bet if you could you would choose to put it down, yeah?” he brushed a piece of hair out of your eyes. “It’s okay y/n. Don’t be ashamed of how you helped yourself survive.”

You nodded, taking a deep breath. “I’m sorry.”

He shook his head and pulled you into another hug. “Don’t apologize for letting me be a part of your story.”

[some-kindofgnome]

meet me in the afterglow

After college graduation, you took an all-summer backpacking trip around Europe with your best friend. Now you've got one last night together before coming home as lovers.

characters: eijirou kirishima x f!reader

wc: 2.4k

tags: smut (18+ please!), aged-up characters, quirkless au, implied friends-to-lovers, fluff, mentions of drinking/the sliiiiightest bit of tipsiness, swedish condoms, no beta we die like that bottle of wine

notes: @the-moons-raes and I discussed travelling with BNHA boys at some length a lil while ago, so I wrote this sweet lil scene for her! Consider it a (very) belated birthday present my dear. 💖 xoxoo

MASTERLIST

The sky’s faded from powder-blue to apricot by the time you stumble together into the bedroom.

“Oh my god,” you giggle. You’ve been grinning all night, so hard it’s starting to hurt your wine-warmed cheeks. But this is the happiest you’ve been in a very long time.

“That was,” Eijirou starts, “one of the- no, the best meal I’ve ever had.”

“We should’ve ordered another bottle of that wine,” you muse. He’s got his hands on your hips and you twist in his grip, curling your fingers around his palms. His face has gone pink, but his eyes are sparkling and you’ve already decided you want to preserve this feeling for the rest of your life.

“I don’t think you need anything else to drink tonight,” he teases smoothly, pulling you close with his fingertips digging into the gauzy fabric of your dress. He leans down and pushes his lips against yours, the last tartness of the strawberry gelato you finished on the boardwalk still lingering in the tender flick of his tongue.

Tonight falls at the tail end of a long backpacking trip across Europe that you’ve been wanting to take for as long as you can remember. You’d never planned to take anybody with you at all, let alone the man you’d wind up falling for.

But Eiji’s always been pretty good at defying your expectations.

The rest of the summer hasn’t been this glamorous. You’d spent most nights shacked up in rickety little hostel beds, bunking together in rooms of six or camping out in the backseat of a tiny rental car. But the sleepless nights and sore backs and restricted luggage hadn’t changed a thing. You’ve been in heaven all summer long.

To celebrate your last couple of nights in this hemisphere, you checked into one of Naples’ top-rated hotels. It’s still not the most luxurious room on the market, but compared to the military-issue bunk beds you’ve been sleeping on for the past eight weeks, it might as well be paradise.

Especially now, given the changed nature of your relationship.

You got on the plane together two months ago nursing a deep, intense crush on your best friend. You’ve been close with Eijirou since your first year in college together, when he was assigned to the dorm room beside yours. And for as long as you’d known him, you assumed you’d be loving him from a distance.

But somewhere between Brussels and Berlin, the line between friend and lover started to blur. Since then, it’s been completely erased.

“Come on,” you protest, flinging your arms around his neck and clasping them together behind his head. “I can hardly feel a thing.”

He ran out of hair gel two weeks ago and he’s been wearing his hair down ever since, tied into a loose little ponytail at the nape of his neck. The dark roots of his natural colour are starting to show at his crown after going nearly two months without so much as a haircut.

To you, he’s never looked sweeter.

“That’s my point,” he insists, descending into tipsy, cheerful laughter. “You’re so drunk y’can’t feel a thing. C’mere, it’s time to get you to bed.”

His euphoric grin twists around the edges with mischief as he stoops, sweeping you off your feet with a quiet little grunt of effort. You burst out laughing, letting one arm drop around his neck as your head falls back in deepening mirth.

“Take me to bed,” you swoon, dropping purposely limp in his arms. You haven’t been able to do any of this since that night in Athens a couple of weeks ago where you miraculously had an entire hostel bunkroom to yourselves.

Even then, those cots didn’t make it easy.

Tonight you’ve got a king bed all to yourselves, which Kirishima plants you on before crossing to the window and throwing it open. The night air is velvety and sweet, rolling in like heady steam and waking your senses as you watch him ditch his shoes and crawl across the plush bedspread to settle down beside you.

“You are insanely beautiful,” he croons, propping one head on his arm and smoothing his fingers affectionately down your temple. “I can’t believe I get to tell you that.”

He leans in to kiss you after that, tasting you carefully as his hand drifts from your cheek to your neck to your side. He’s a careful kisser, tasting of the last hints of that sweet summer wine that’s filled both your heads.

Picking up on your eagerness, he breaks from your lips to push attentive little kisses down the side of your neck. But as he reaches the hem of the floaty little dress you wear, he pauses and finds your eye.

“Can I?”

He’s already sliding one palm down over the curve of your hip, but it pauses at your thigh, and the earnest little quirk in his brow is so cute you can’t help but giggle.

“Do you really need to ask?” you quip.

He hums thoughtfully against your skin, already mouthing at your collarbone. “Just making sure.”

There are oversized buttons lining the center front of your dress, and he takes his time popping open every single one. He opens the dress far enough that he could have easily pulled it down over your hips, but he doesn’t stop there. Instead, you get to watch as he works open the last button with quiet, deep concentration, and when he finally does, he pushes the folds open around your body with a loving little triumphant smile.

“There’s my girl,” he croons as he crawls atop you once more, shedding his sweaty t-shirt in the process. You’re chest-to-chest when he catches your lips again, and his skin is still a little warm from the afternoon you’d spent at the beach before dinner.

He kisses you long and low and slow, giving you plenty of time to let your thighs fall open around the slope of his hips. Eiji presses naturally forward, pushing the ridge of his pelvis and the stiff denim of his shorts against your flimsy underwear. He huffs quietly into your mouth, and as you shift and squirm beneath him you can feel his cock stirring against you.

“Eiji,” you whimper, turning your face sharply to one side. “Don’t make me wait.”

In the absence of your mouth, he noses attentively down the column of your throat. His eyelashes flutter at your jaw and you feel it when he purses his lips and swallows hard.

“Okay,” he rasps. “Okay, I gotcha.” He rears back, sitting up on his haunches to unbutton his shorts. Before he gets up to shed them, he rests a hand on the plane of your belly, smiling so innocently down at you it shouldn’t make you throb.

But it does.

“Ready for me already, pretty girl?” Eiji muses, and you have to bite your lip hard to keep from rolling over and screaming into your pillow as loudly as possible.

“Been ready for you since the beach,” you tease back, and it works, since his ears are turning red as he slips out of bed. He hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his undershorts and shucks both garments in one smooth motion, hunching over to let them drop to the floor while he steps unceremoniously out of them.

His cock’s half-hard already, sitting full and heavy between his thighs and swelling self-consciously under your gaze. He’s exactly as big as you always sort of knew he was. He’s not shy about it, either. He can’t afford to be.

But he doesn’t know how beautiful he is, sunburned and sweating in the fading golden-hour light of your last sunset in Italy. You want to pet the soft little bristle of dark hair that dusts his chest, follow the taper of it all the way down to that perfect trail that always used to disappear under his shorts.

Not anymore. You get to see him at his most vulnerable now.

And you will not misuse that trust.

“Come here,” you purr, pushing yourself onto your elbows so he can see the desire burning in your gaze for him.

He leans instinctively toward you, hands twitching by his sides. He snaps out of a little reverie with a hard blink, stooping in front of his shorts and fishing out his slim little travel wallet.

“Hang on.”

He flips through the creased euros and museum tickets, carding out a wrapped condom. He climbs back onto the bed and passes it to you with a shy little grin.

“I know you like to do the honours.”

The condom comes from a packet you bought in the wee hours at some twenty-four hour roadside convenience store before bedding down in a rented car together. The instructions are in Swedish, but you know what you’re doing.

By the time you get the condom unwrapped, Eiji’s on his knees in front of you and his cock is fully hard out of sheer anticipation. You reach between his thighs and wrap your fingers around his warm flesh, making him shudder. And you drop one sweet, warm kiss to his mouth before you focus.

He rolls his hips quietly into your touch as you handle the job with delicate precision, unrolling the condom all the way to his base.

“Ready?” He asks you, but you’re already laying back against the pillows and thumbing off your underwear, slick and aching for him.

“Get over here before I start without you,” you tease, and he is powerless to resist you. He anchors himself on his knees, hooking each of your legs over one of his powerful thighs. He reaches for you and his cock sweeps the inside of your thigh as it bobs between you. You’ve been wanting this from the moment you saw this room, the perfect ending to a life-changing trip.

Eiji sinks lower, letting the barrel of his chest rise and fall with a deep, steadying breath. He reaches between you to line himself up with you, casting his eyes up to yours when he feels you.

“Ready?” He repeats himself, and this time the humor’s gone. You nod quietly against the pillow and reach for his free hand, lacing your fingers together tightly.

You squeeze hard as he starts to slot himself inside you. He stretches you deeply, especially without any preparation. But he knows how to keep you comfortable, moving slowly and smoothly. He braces a hand on your belly as he bottoms out, but he does not pause there. Instead, he starts to ease into a lazy rhythm, sweeping his thumb between your folds to find the swelling nub of your clit.

“Fuck,” you whine, and he flinches a little inside you.

“God,” he gasps, bending over to press his forehead- sticky with sweat- into yours. “Tell me I’m not dreaming, yeah?”

You reach up and lightly pinch his chest with your free hand, and he grins above you.

“You’re good,” you confirm, hearing the breathlessness echo in your own voice.

“I’m not gonna last long like this,” he brushes. You shake your head.

“Don’t care. Just fuck me.”

His brow lifts against yours. After a chuckle of disbelief, he sits up.

“Aye aye, captain.”

He squeezes your fingers tightly and begins to thrust.

He does not hold back with you, keeping the pad of his thumb winding tight circles into your clit as he fucks you with eager diligence. You revel in the slap of your bodies, the fact that you can spread out and make noise, moan for him like you’ve always wanted to. Finally alone together for real. No stolen moments of privacy here. You can take as much as you want.

“Eiji,” you beg, beginning to clench around him as you feel the first twinges of your climax approaching.

“I’ve got you, baby,” he huffs, borderline incoherent as the flush spreads down his neck and chest. “Let go for me, I gotcha.”

In a dozen thrusts he’s got you falling, letting high whimpers escape your throat as your pussy clenches and flutters around his thick shaft. He rubs you diligently through your climax, fucking you steadily until you whine and paw his hand away, overstimulated and sensitive.

“I’m there,” he promises. “I’m there, I’m there, I’m….. f-fuck!” His jaw falls slack as he throws his head back, thrusting headlong into a tight climax that has him trembling against you. His hips go still, but you can feel the way his cock twitches inside your spent walls as he fills the condom.

When he’s finished he stays there for a moment, shoulders dropping while the rest of his body goes slack. He reaches up, scraping sweaty strands of hair off his forehead before he grins sleepily down at you.

“Did you…” He starts, eyes turning inquisitive. Someday he’ll be able to tell, but for now you’re just glad he’s asking.

“Yeah,” you hum, eyes bright despite the weight setting quickly into your limbs. It’s worth it for the pride that surges visibly through him, and he pulls out of you with a triumphant grin spreading his lips.

“Good,” he gushes, slipping quietly away to dispose of the condom. He’s hardly gone for a handful of seconds, and when he comes back he crawls eagerly up to your side and pulls you into his arms, curling his body attentively around yours.

“This is nice,” you confess, drifting pleasantly in the wine-and-sex-induced fog that rests heavy in your brain.

“Hmm?” Eiji’s already half-asleep above you, eyelids drooping as the light fades from the window beside the bed.

“This,” you prompt again. “Not having to get dressed again right away. We should do this more often.”

“I sure hope we do,” he enthuses. “When we get back, I’m not letting you unpack until we consummate our relationship on the right hemisphere.”

That was the longest you’d gone around him without laughing in a while. Even half-asleep, though, his wisecracks are enough to make you snort.

“Deal,” you hum, letting your eyes fall shut as the world bleeds out of focus around you. It’s not even eight o’clock and you’re sure you’ll have him again before nightfall. But for now, you’re more than happy to bask in the afterglow with the one person in the world you never thought you’d make it there with.

[adenei]

Wingardium Leviosa

Written for @romioneweek's Traits and Trinkets Theme - Day 3.

Post War/Domestic Bliss One-Shot

*******************

Ron knew it was a long shot, but he had to try. He ambled down the familiar corridors that he'd traipsed through only a few years ago, his footsteps echoing against the portrait-filled walls. Most of the students were outside on the grounds, enjoying the late-spring sunshine as he made the long trek from Headmistress McGonagall's office to Professor Flitwick's classroom.

By the time he reached the classroom door, he paused and considered doubling back. The idea was too far-fetched. The trip was pointless—

“Ah, Mr. Weasley! Come in. Headmistress McGonagall informed me you wished to meet with me,” Professor Flitwick’s high, squeaky voice startled Ron.

So much for a quiet escape.

“Er, yeah. Thanks for making the time, Professor.”

“Please, call me Filius, Ron. You’re no longer a student walking through these halls. And I believe congratulations are in order?”

Ron’s face flushed. “Thanks.”

He wasn’t sure whether it was for the upcoming nuptials or that he’d just graduated from the three-year Auror Academy training program last month. “That’s actually why I’m here. Er, about the wedding, that is. I was hoping you could help me with something.”

Flitwick’s eyebrows lifted in question. “I’ll do my best, though I’m not sure I can be of much help unless you’d like to hire the Frog Choir to sing at the ceremony.”

Though it was meant to be a joke, based on the tiny man’s jovial laugh, fear washed over Ron at the prospect. Mainly for the fact that Hermione might kill him. She already didn’t like surprises, and if he tried to pull something like that…

“N-no, Hermione’s got the music covered already. It’s actually about—well, you see—” Ron stopped, taking a breath to gather his thoughts. “Back in our first year, you taught us Wingardium Leviosa.”

“Ah, yes, that part of the Charms curriculum has remained unchanged.” An amused chuckle escapes the older man’s lips.

“Well, you see, I know it was a fairly straightforward lesson, and you might not even remember this, but Hermione got the charm on her first try—”

“Oh, on the contrary, I remember that quite vividly! And if my memory also serves me right, her partner was a bit agitated over her success,” he smiled knowingly.

A smile crept over Ron’s face. “Er, yeah. I was in a right foul mood, and I didn’t treat her very well after class either. She ended up hearing me say some things and—” Ron came to an abrupt stop.

Without realizing or planning it, he was about to give away the real reason Hermione found herself in the bathroom with the troll that evening.

“She overheard you, I presume?” Professor Flitwick supplied as Ron nodded. “Would this have anything to do with the real reason Ms. Granger was in the bathroom that night when the troll was loose?”

Ron’s jaw dropped. “Y-you knew?”

“Ah, Minerva always had a sneaking suspicion Hermione never went after the troll on her own. And don’t think we didn’t notice the change in loyalty between the three of you after that night. I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to know what really possessed you three to fight off a Mountain Troll on Halloween.” He chuckles.

“In fairness, sir, I was the reason Hermione was in the loo in the first place, so that’s why we went after her—to warn her. But then we saw the troll enter the bathroom and thought we were clever enough to lock him in until we realized that’s where Hermione was too. So, we really had no choice.”

The aging professor shook his head, amusement plastering his face. Ron hadn’t come here to admit the entire story, but it felt oddly relieving to get that off his chest. It’d been a secret between the three of them for so long that it felt good, to be honest.

Laughter bubbled up in his chest. “We were barmy first years, weren’t we?”

“You were,” Flitwick agreed, “and as much as I’ve enjoyed the trip down memory lane, I assume it all has a purpose as to why you’re here?”

“Er, yeah. Right! I know it’s a long shot, but I was wondering if you still had the feather she used that day in class. I remember exactly what it looked like. Most of the ones you passed out were solid, but she’d received—”

“The white one with the brown speckles. Yes, I remember.”

“You don’t still happen to have it, do you?”

“I do.” The professor was already two steps ahead of him, pulling out a box and lifting the feather in question out to show him.

Ron could hardly believe his luck as Flitwick placed the feather in a separate box and extended his arm out to pass on the feather. “It seems as though you’ve put a lot of thought into this, Ron, and I’m sure Hermione will appreciate this more than any future student may.”

“Th-thank you, Professor.” Ron took the box and held it close. He didn’t even have to ask.

He knew without a doubt that this would be the gift to beat all others, the missing piece of the puzzle for his upcoming vows. It was the gift that symbolized how far they’d come from that fateful day when he’d called her a nightmare, the day that changed his life forever. He couldn’t wait to present her with what would be his favorite gift in just a few short weeks.

[thesquidkid]

Make it purr (3x09 coda)

It will get a title later so I can post in on AO3. This little fic is coincidentally an answer to this ask that @bisexualalienblast got, and loosely based on prompts that @ober-affen-geil gave on discord (thanks again Riley! ❤️)

Enjoy this little missing scene between Michael and Sanders 😁

Edit: it has a title! And you can read it on ao3: Make it purr

Michael was working on Mrs Santor’s car, the sun bright and hot in the sky on this afternoon, making him sweat. But he wasn’t paying much attention to it, repeating the movements he knew well by now, his mind focused on something else, someone else.

He didn’t hear the footsteps coming behind him, not the man standing by his side, with his arms crossed over his chest, until he cleared his throat, making Michael jump.

“Jesus,” Michael said, waving the wrench he was holding in his hands and pointing it to Sanders, “no one ever told you not to sneak on people, old man?”

Sanders chuckled at him, “I’m paying you to fix cars, kid, not to unscrew batteries.” he said pointing to the open hood of the car.

Michael looked down, and saw that indeed, by repeating known movements, he screwed a new battery in, but proceeded to unscrew it afterwards. He looked back at Sanders and took a step back from the car, “Well, I was distracted, won’t happen again,” he said, instinctively.

Sanders waved him off with his hand, and walked towards the main house, indicating with his head for Michael to follow him. “Yeah right, seems to happen a lot these days,” Sanders said walking away.

Michael was frozen next to his car, and when Sanders’ words finally reached his brain, he nearly ran to his level, “What are you talking about?” he asked, eyebrows frowned in confusion.

Sanders breathed out a laugh and turned to look at Michael, “Kid, I told you, I ain’t blind.” he said, stopping to open the door once they reached the house. The two men headed for the worn out sofa, Michael using his powers to get two beers from the fridge and open them. After taking a sip of his bottle, Sanders spoke up again, “You finally figured you and your boy are a thing?”

Michael stared at Sanders, barely stopping the smile forming on his lips. Sanders closed his eye at him, something he guessed was meant to be a wink, but didn’t quite land that way.

“Why - why would you think that?” Michael replied, stuttering and trying to hide the small blush on his cheeks. He and Alex had only kissed the night before, and he hadn’t seen Sanders since. They hadn’t really talked that much, but it was still more than what they were used to. Namely, they agreed that this relationship would be a new one, that the effort they had both done individually wouldn’t be for nothing, and that they would take things slow. Starting by an in-public date.

Sanders looked at him with one eyebrow raised, “You gonna tell me that I’m wrong?” he asked, rhetorically, but Michael chuckled and shook his head. There was no point denying it after all.

“That’s what I thought,” Sanders said, taking a sip of his beer, “and for how I figured it out? Kid, you got that same look on your face you had before.”

At Michael’s confused look, he continued. “When you thought you could sneak in n’ out of this junkyard to hook up with your boy without me noticing.”

Michael took a second to process. He sat further into the sofa, remembering all the times he and Alex had been in the junkyard, all the times he drove off with Alex to see the desert. “You knew?” Michael asked, turning to Sanders with his eyes wide open, “all this time, you knew and you never said anything.”

“Not my place,” Sanders shrugged, as if it was that simple.

“Not your - seriously?” Michael laughed out, not believing it, “so few days ago, when I talked about Alex as a friend and you asked if we were a thing, what was that?” he asked, voice clearly teasing, glad that Sanders had understood that he needed space to figure things out with Alex.

“I got fed up with your bullshit,” he answered, making Michael huff, somewhat agreeing. “So you’re gonna cook him dinner? Or did you forget you had manners?”

Michael laughed at that, his head falling back, “Not today, uh, we have a date planned for tomorrow, and uh, we’re taking things slow?” he said hesitantly, cursing himself for his lack of confidence.

Either Sanders didn’t notice Michael’s voice going higher in the end, or if he didn’t didn’t comment on it. “A date uh,” he pointed out instead, “that’s new.”

“Yeah, yeah” Michael breathed out, with a chuckle, “usually it was junk food at the back of my truck, but not anymore!” He was determined to not fall back into their old habits. Not that he didn’t want them to hang out on the bed of his truck, maybe even make out, but he also wanted them to do new things too, like public dates, movies, proper dinners, and all the things they haven’t done yet.

Michael brought the beer bottle to his lips, feeling Sanders looking at him, silently.

“We, uh, don’t have the best history when it comes to dating,” he started to say, not quite looking at Sanders, “and I don’t want to mess it up, you know? But I don’t really know how - if - we can have this?”

Michael breathed out a shaky breath, sinking deeper in the couch. He didn’t really expect Sanders to give him relationship advice, but he needed to express his doubts about the future. He didn’t have any doubts about his feelings for Alex, but historically, they didn’t always express themselves, and no matter how much he wanted this relationship, craved it even, there was still a little voice, reminding him of all the hurt.

“I ain’t the person to give you relationship advice, kid,” Sanders said, making Michael chuckle and shake his head with a smile. “But I do know how to make machines work.”

At this, Michael turned his head, his eyes meeting Sanders’, a look of confusion on his face. “You don't walk away from a broken engine. You find a way to make it purr again."

On that note, Sanders stood up, leaving Michael sitting on the couch, replaying those words in his mind. He made his way to the door, opened it, “And speaking of engines, I ain’t paying you for nothing!” he shouted back inside, before closing the door behind him.

Eventually, Michael went back to work on Mrs Santor’s car, Sanders’ words never leaving his mind. After he finished work, he said his goodbye to Sanders and drove off to Alex’s house, ready to pick him up for their date.

Their date didn’t quite go as planned, but he wouldn’t change it - well maybe he’d change the part where Alex nearly died or could’ve ended up with a melted brain.

[void-inked-pen]

The Mandolin

ROTTMNT Fantasy Fic Collab Between: Me and @undercoverwizardfanfiction​

Above art by: @imaginashon​

Inspired by: @thehandleisjammed​

Characters: Mikey and Donnie

Pairings: holds charmy back if you know what’s good for you, you’ll know the answer is never (or do you want this one at your throat?)

Summary: in so many ways they are still strangers to one another but if they keep a open heart to one another they might someday call each other brothers

---

He is the master of focus.

Were words no one had ever spoken about Mikey ever. But right now, his eyes were focused (well, cross eyed) on a large red beetle situation on an even larger flower. He is only vaguely aware of Raph calling after him before he leaps out from his hiding spot like a chimera pouncing on its prey. His hands are only about to close around the bug when the beetle takes off in surprise (Mikey is only mildly sure he heard the bug ‘meep’ as it went) before he landed in the flower bush. After a few moments, and after a few of Infinity’s concerned coos, he pops his head back out of the bushes.

 “I almost got him that time!” Mikey says with a wide grin. Raph and Leo both give him a look that’s between two degrees of confusion but Donnie, under his hood, shakes his head with a tremble to his shoulders in what was probably suppressed laughter.

“Mikey” Raph calls tiredly, “we’re almost to town, can you please keep up?”

“Yeah on it!” He jumps out of the bushes and hurries over with a skip to his step.

Donnie watched his younger brother skip up to them with mild amusement. He had only known his youngest brother for a few months now and his upbeat attitude and absolutely innocent curiosity was both endearing and only slightly envious. When was the last time I was like that? The thought came out of nowhere and almost completely wiped his decent mood. But the answer that came bothered him more than the initial question; he couldn’t remember.

Trying to return to the present and not follow that train of thought any further, Donnie rubbed his tired eyes and continued following his brothers into town. Leo and Mikey were chatting away about the differences between some sort of bird, while Raph remained vigilant like some sort of escort.

“You know,” he said walking up beside the oldest. His sudden appearance startling the larger turtle. “This trip would be more enjoyable if you relaxed a bit, big guy.” Don smirked as Raph just huffed in response.

Mikey tries his best not to to smile at Raph’s tired expression that clearly says ‘how the hell can I relax with three loose hyperactive hooligans to look after’ but is grateful when Raph doesn’t say anything (except for sighing with the exhaustion of someone three times his age and on their deathbed).

Donnie and Raph walked in comfortable silence for a while before they both realized they couldn’t hear chattering behind them anymore and turned around to see the two youngest entranced by an expensive stall of goods.

Mikey turns back to is conversation partner after watching the oldest pair ahead of them settle into a calm stride. What had he been talking about again? “The Waxing Owl!” Mikey exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air suddenly returning to his train of thought, “the Waxing Owl is totally cool! You have no idea!”

“And….it’s different from a Full Moon Owl?” Leo asks. Though his expression is confused and only borderline condescending it’s a massive improvement to just a few days ago, “I mean i just wanted to know the difference between a african swallow and a european swallow-“

“Yeah yeah! Cause Moon Owls can tell the future! And if you see one during a certain moon phase that’s the kind of luck you’re supposed to get! I’ve heard entire groups of people scouring the Mist Forest trying to see one during a Waxing Moon! Its so cool and- and if you see a Waxing Owl AND a Sun Burst flower in the same month then-“ and just as it was a moment ago, Mikey loses his train of thought as his mouth drops open. Normally it would be a weird dessert he had never seen before or an extra snuggly puppy that would get his attention. But what has him now is a large storefront, he barely notices the elaborate lettering or the shopkeeper out front shining up his new door. Mikey is already standing in front of the glass with both hands pressed against it. Through the now misting up glass he can see a wooden box with a long neck and strings , “Woooooooooooow” He says “What’s that thing?”

“Hey!” the store keeper snaps hard enough at Mikey he flinched away “Off my window cretin, I just had those refinished. “

Mikey stumbles back and bumps Donnie, who nearly loses his balance as he tries to use his bad leg to keep from falling, “So-sorry Dee.” He says quietly, shoulders hunched and sad. But he looks back towards the window , “I-I've never seen anything like that before.”

Donnie steadied himself before looking up at the store window.

“You… Mean the mandolin?” He looked back at his brother for confirmation and could have sworn he saw twinkles in his eyes. “It’s an instrument you strum with your fingers and part of the lute family. I heard a famous musician used one to serenade a rich maiden into marrying him.” Donnie left out the part about how the musician was actually the family's hired fool, mainly because the story also didn't end well.

Mikey appeared to practically be vibrating in excitement as he stared at the string instrument. “I’ve always wanted to play something like that, Todd used to tell me stories about a caravan that performed music as they traveled but he didn't have an instrument of his own to teach me.”

Donnie looked at him thoughtfully before glancing back up at the mandolin again and almost balking at the base price. He subtly looked back at the store owner who appeared to be getting more and more annoyed with the four yokai’s presence. Ever so gently, Donnie grabbed the smaller turtle by the shoulders and shifted him away from the storefront.

“I think... we’re gonna have to pass on this one Mike.” He said, observing the store with a critical eye.

The younger turtle gave off a disappointed whimper and looked away sadly before hopping back into a conversation with Leo. Don could have sworn when they were leaving the storefront, the blue turtle also seemed unhappy with the price of such a simple instrument. With one more glance back at the snooty storekeeper, Donnie made a decision.

After some discussion, they (Raph) decided that staying in town was far too expensive on their already limited funds. Mikey wasn’t entirely sure why Raph was suddenly so eager to leave, especially since they hadn't visited the library yet. But it probably had to do with the wary look that the large turtle was giving Donnie, who had stayed silent after their run in with the shopkeep.

What Raph DID allow, however, was for Mikey to pick out some sweets at a baking booth that they could enjoy after dinner. It wasn’t long after that that the four of them left the town behind them. Not far enough to be gone from its sight but far enough for Raph to give a sigh of relief.

“Ok boys, let's get camp set up and dinner ready.”

“You know, if I was in proper attire, I probably could have talked that man into giving us his entire store and thanking us for it.” Said Leo with a stiff upper lip as he gathered the smallest branches humanly possible.

“yes, and attract every bounty hunter and well meaning lawman in town.” Donnie made a show of reaching over and pulling up Leos’ hood. The red slider pouts at him before readjusting his hood to allow him to see better. “Rude.” He scoffs.

Don smirks in turn before going over to where Mikey was pouring over a pot of vegetables.

“Here,” he hands over the herbs he had gotten earlier, “Keep it up. I’m going to go see if I can find any more in the forest.” Donnie says. He’s grateful when Mikey only gives him a beam in response before going back to his cooking.

Donnie makes sure to glance and ensure he hadn’t gotten Leo and Raph’s attention (Raph was too busy brushing Buddy to babysit him) as he stepped back in the direction of the town they had come from, and in a blink, disappeared…

-----

“Hey, has anyone seen Donnie?” Mikey looked up from his ministrations after hearing the slight panic from the blue turtle. Leo was looking around with a worried look, one he’d been expressing a lot more lately after they had met back up after the ‘missing ring’ incident.

“OH! He just went to gather some more herbs for me in the forest. Don’t worry, he said he’d be right back~” He said in order to calm down Leo, but somehow agitated his other brother instead.

“Wait, he said what?” Raph looked up from brushing Buddy with alarm. “Son of a- okay, here’s the deal. Leo, you stay here an watch Mikey and I’ll go after Donnie before he does something stupid!” Raph stood up quickly, dropping the brush as he spoke his orders.

“I’m sorry, but whomst are you calling stupid?” Everyone jumped as the purple turtle in question, hopped down from a tree.

“Seriously Dee, you gotta stop doing that.” Leo breathed in relief. Donnie only raised an eyebrow in confusion before walking over to Mikey.

“Okay, then explain. Where were you?” Raph crossed his arms with a knowing look.

“Gathering these,” Donnie turned around and held up a small cluster of herbs, “like I said I was.”

The two oldest glared at each other for a few seconds in silence before Raph grumbled away in defeat. Donnie, feeling victorious, turned back towards his younger brother only to see something he wasn't expecting. Mikey was looking at him with a blank expression.

“...What?” “... Why did you lie?” Mikey asked in concern. Donnie tensed up.

“I...” Don paused, looking back to where Raph had returned to his chore before putting the herbs down in Mikey's hand, “I didn’t-”

“Yes you did.” In a way, Donnie hates that Mikey can usually see right through him. And he happens to be looking through him with those eyes that still held the softness of a child far younger than Mikey. Somehow it feels harder and harder to lie to him by the day.

Donnie manages a sigh, before sitting down by the fire to give his leg, and the new stinging wound on his side, a break. “For the record, I technically didn’t lie. I did get more herbs.” Again those eyes bore into him like a truth telling light, “But, I didn’t like the way that shopkeep talked to you earlier.” He reaches into his bag and pulls out the mandolin that Mikey had been admiring.

The youngest lets out a soft gasp, hands over his mouth for a moment before he reaches out as though to take it before drawing his hands back, “W-why did you steal it thought?” Mikey asked quietly.

“I just told you, you wanted it and that shopkeep was a–”

“No-I...” Mikey pauses again, “I mean why do you steal? At all?”

Donnie felt something in his chest tighten. He had to look away in order to calm his breathing and stop the dust around him from shifting. Why do you steal? The question rang in his head so loudly it was beginning to get harder and harder to hear the crackling of the fire.

A hand gently placed itself onto his shoulder and he couldn’t stop himself from flinching and tensing up hard at the touch. But the hand didn’t move away.

“...I… I’m sorry I didn’t mean to upset you I just… I wanted to know” Mikey said softly.

It took a few more calming breaths for him to finally look back into those kind eyes.

“... You could say… it was the family business that helped me become the thief I am now,” Don sniffled, “but truthfully… It's how I managed to survive so long. Mike, not everyone has the option to follow a path of honest work. If I had tried to follow any number of opportunities towards something I was passionate about… I wouldn’t last long.” Donnie said that last line almost too quietly to hear.

“What do you mean?” Mikey’s face scrunched up in confusion.

With another deep breath Donnie prepared himself. “If i tried to follow a path academically, like I had always wanted… She would find me.” He shivered as he continued, “If I had tried to make ends meet as a crafter, I would have failed due to my magic limitations… Mike, I never had the option for much else.”

“B-but.” Mikey tries to start back up again even as he interlocks his fingers and lowers his head, “That’s not fair.”

When he looks up again he’s surprised to see Donnie giving him a soft smile. His eyes could easily be mistaken for either pity or some other emotion that Mikey doesn’t understand. But the thief reaches out and places a rough but soft hand on Mikey’s scalp, rubbing it in the same way one might ruffle someone’s hair.

“Just please enjoy it? If Raph asks where it came from you can blame me. He blames me for everything else.” Which wasn’t entirely true, but often days he felt Jupiter James’s words spoke through Raph more then Raph’s own sense of morals. And, considering Raph was one of the kindest people Donnie had ever met, made his heart ache. But as he does with everything else, Don smiles.

For a moment Mikey feels the hand on his scalp twitch like he’s considering tapping their foreheads together but instead he hands over the earned prize that Mikey takes, unable to hide the excited smile on his face, already strumming the strings with giggles in his throat. Testing them to see what noises it’ll make. It won't be long before Mikey teaches himself how to play.

Donnie has to wait until the middle of the night before he finally sees the arrow wound in his side (It was a cheap, extremely lucky shot). But as he tends to the wound, he still smiles.

To steal for himself was just for survival.

But to steal for his brother, to make him smile was an act he’d never regret.

----------------------------------------------------------------

Thanks for reading! 

also thank you Ash for the beautiful art for this fic~ all of this was kinda spur of the moment and im glad this turned out so fun!

we had fun writing this together~ The fantasy AU is one of my personal all time fav au’s and I highly recommend reading more in the ao3 collection

- Pen

[h2bakugou]

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: hii, new look oo, also first genshin post. i wrote this a while ago, and it’s loosely based off of tangled. i’ll probably keep this look for the genshin posts but mha posts will stay the same!!

at the time of writing, these characters do not have official ages, all characters are written within an aged up (18+) alternate universe.

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you’re a little more than determined to spend time with the so called ‘vigilant yaksha’ and he’s a little more than persuaded at the mention of almond tofu.

𝐤𝐞𝐲: (y/n) - your name / (f/n) - first name / (l/n) - last name / (e/c) - eye color / (h/c) - hair color / (y/e) - your element

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: swearing, fluff

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.4k

;cut for length;

The air was crisp as you trudged on through to the Wangshu Inn. The once clear blue sky had begun to melt and mix with the purple and pink hues of a sunset. Stars began to hang in the sky, illuminating millions of constellations for you to glance upon on your journey.

You had made plans for the evening. To spend with Xiao. That was if you could drag him down from the Inn to come with you. You had little hope you could actually manage the task ahead of you, but you just had to believe. It wasn’t as if you were asking him to come march into Liyue Harbor with you.

You had other plans. While a calming stroll through the lit-up city of Liyue would be nice with the so-called ‘Vigilant Yaksha,’ all you really wanted to do was spend some alone time with him.

As you step foot onto the lift that would bring you into the treetop that held the Wangshu Inn, you could feel your nerves beginning to grow. Maybe this was a bad idea? What if he was busy and already had plans to do something? What if-

“Are you just going to stand there and go back down?” Xiao’s voice cut through your intrusive thoughts when you realized you were still standing on the wooden lift, now stopped on the top floor. You quickly darted off, turning to see it begin to lower.

“I was lost in thought. Sorry.” You apologize and smile, forcing your nerves down as you stood in front of him.

“What brings you here?” Xiao asked, beginning to walk around the wooden terrace, over to where he usually gazed out upon the landscape of Liyue.

“I came to see you, actually.” You spoke softly, admiring how Xiao’s features seemed to glow from the sun’s setting rays. His amber eyes gleamed as he turned his head to look at you, taking in your own seemingly glowing appearance in the sunset.

“It’s always something with you.” Xiao commented, looking back over the land. He preferred to be alone, yet there was a little piece of him that did enjoy your company. Although you were persistent and rather eager to spend time with him, he secretly enjoyed your surprisingly quiet presence whenever you bought him Almond Tofu.

“Whaddaya’ say we go take a little boat ride? Just the two of us, the water, and maybe some yummy Almond Tofu?” You’d said the magic words.

“Almond Tofu?” Xiao had been captivated yet again by the mortal dish. He’d say it was your superpower to make a dish so well, but with how many times you’d prepared it for him, he could only say it was just from practice.

“I know you prefer to be alone, but just for a little while? It wouldn’t hurt to dine elsewhere tonight.” You knew he hadn’t eaten yet. He had a set schedule of eating dinner promptly at 7:05 pm. You’d made it on time with about an hour to kill, which would give you plenty of time to get to where you had planned everything out, time to eat, and a few minutes to spare to talk.

“Fine. But only for a little while.” Xiao was staring at you. You were making those puppy-dog eyes that he found hard to resist. You were one of the few mortals Xiao was ‘fond’ of.

“Great! Let’s go!” Your hand darted to his, pulling him along quickly as you rushed over to the lift which had returned up again. Xiao was unfamiliar with the warm feeling of your hand in his, but he swallowed his snide comments and let you be contempt with the sudden gesture. It was his job as a Yaksha to ensure your safety and comfort.

The small journey there didn’t take long, your destination was right near the bottom of the Wangshu Inn. Getting into the wooden boat was a bit tricky, but all was well when you sat down.

Xiao glared at you as you sat in front of him on the wooden boat, asking him nicely to use some anemo power to push the small wooden boat off of the land and into the water.

“Pretty please?” You begged, fluttering your eyelashes. Xiao groaned and in a swift few movements, the boat began to float on the water, moving slowly down the river.

Sitting back down across from you, Xiao took in the sights. A small lantern adorned the bow of the small wooden boat the two of you sat in. The water around you was clear and blue, reflecting the stars that twinkled in the sky above. It was ethereal and beautiful. Xiao couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen something so gorgeous.

“I’m sorry, it’s a bit tossed around, but it’s still Almond Tofu.” Your rather long journey to Wangshu Inn had proven to be a bit difficult, running into a Ruin Guard had certainly thrown you off the beaten path. You handed Xiao the container that held the meal you cooked up, thankful that it still looked appetizing.

Xiao didn’t hesitate, digging into the delicious meal that you’d made from him. Even when you didn’t have any ulterior motives when you showed up to see him at the Inn, you always brought or made him Almond Tofu, as a thank you for his protection.

It was an unusual bond, the one you shared. Xiao could ignore you, or tell you to go away, and you’d give him a nod, giving him an offering before parting ways. But you always came back, the same familiar bright smile adorning your lips.

Even on the days when Xiao could tell you weren’t okay, you always wore a smile. Because you got to see him. He would never understand, or at least at the moment, would never understand how seeing him brought you so much joy. Perhaps it was beyond him. He didn’t wish to be a burden on someone who seemed so happy, that’s why he distanced himself from you. But it never stopped you from climbing up that big tree right to where he sat on the branches, an eager smile on your lips as you hoisted yourself over the branch.

The sky had finally tuned a deep dark navy blue, lit up by the stars and the rising moon. You had finished your own helping of Almond Tofu and patiently awaited Xiao to finish his. You didn’t say much, only commenting on the beautiful sky as you quietly pointed out stars.

When Xiao finished eating, you stored the containers back into your satchel and glanced over at him. Xiao’s amber eyes met with yours and for a few seconds, he swore he saw your face grow a bit redder. You quickly looked away, worried about making him uncomfortable.

“Now that we’ve eaten, I can head back.” Xiao said curtly, ready to turn the boat around and return to where you’d departed from.

“Wait!” You quickly stood, attempting to stop him which only rocked the boat more, causing you to become unstable and fall over onto him.

Lifting your head, you were met with those cold amber eyes, only ten times closer. Your noses were just about touching as you stared at him. You couldn’t help but ogle at him, your heart beginning to beat faster.

“Are you, um, alright?” Xiao asked bluntly, his words were sharp and unfamiliar to his tongue. You nodded and quickly sat up, regaining your composure on the wooden bench of the boat you had been previously sitting on.

“Sorry! I just uh, can we wait a little longer?” You ask softly, glancing out in the distance. Xiao sighs and returns to his own wooden bench, crossing his arms over his chest.

A few minutes go by of complete silence. It was beginning to feel deafening as you waited. And then, just over the horizon, a singular lantern floated into the air from behind a hill.

Xiao peeked an eye open at your gasp, glancing over to where you were looking. His eyes widened as he began to see dozens, no hundreds of paper lanterns flood the sky, illuminating it with an orange glow.

“I’ve waited years to see this.” You said softly, carefully leaning over to try and get a better look.

Today was a celebration. For some unknown reason to you, thousands of lanterns got released into the night sky, adorning it with a warm glow from the small flames that burned inside them.

You had always heard rumors of the celebration, but every time you came around to ask, you were met with news of having missed it by a few days, or you were simply not there in time to see it.

But tonight, with Xiao, you were witnessing it for the first time, together. As lanterns littered the sky, you were mesmerized by the beautiful sight. A few lanterns drifted toward you, Xiao extending an arm to catch one. He glanced over at you as you reached for one as it touched the water.

Xiao huffed quietly, catching your attention. You glanced and smiled at him as he offered you the lantern in his hands. You took it graciously, your fingers grazing across his as you lifted it back into the air, watching it rejoin the others it had parted from.

“Is this what you wanted to wait on?” Xiao asked, watching as lanterns drifted all around you. You nodded and looked down at your reflection in the water.

“I thought you might like to see them too.” You glance back at Xiao and then at your lap.

“I know you think you’re a burden to those you’re around, but to me, you’re special.” You confess. Xiao is quiet for a while as he admires you. The glow of lanterns that floated on the water lit up your skin, appearing to give you some sort of aura. Xiao’s muddled feelings made him only more confused.

He wasn’t supposed to feel such attraction, let alone to a human like you. Yet, he felt a strange, warm sensation in his veins.

“Special.” Xiao repeated, earning your attention.

“I couldn’t have asked for a better protector. Thank you for always being here for me.” You felt giddy and warm inside, your heart racing as you bit your bottom lip.

“You’re welcome.” It wasn’t the first kind words he’d ever spoken to you, but they were nonetheless surprising. After all these years, living in a blur, Xiao could see perfectly clear, someone who truly enjoyed his presence.

Shining in the starlight, he laid his amber eyes upon you. You were right here, right in front of him. It was all crystal clear now. His thoughts and feelings, although still new and unfamiliar, were brought to the light.

Leaning over, Xiao placed a nervous hand on your waist and pulled you into him, his lips meeting yours.

He balanced on one hand which rested beside you on the wooden bench, his body bent over you as he kissed you. You kissed back, both surprised and contempt. Kissing back, you moved your lips against his, leading him through the kiss with ease. When he pulled away, he stayed frozen over you, staring into your eyes.

“Your lips taste like almonds.” Xiao commented. You couldn’t help but giggle.

“Well of course they do.” You reach a hand up and twirl a strand of his hair between his fingers. Xiao feels fuzzy as you do so. He’s so used to people being so cold and being cold to them. Being blunt and harsh would usually scare people off, which is exactly what he wanted.

But here you sat, that same goofy smile on your lips, giddy and flustered after just one kiss. Xiao placed one more kiss on your lips, it was short and straight to the point. After he leaned back and glanced back out at the lanterns.

Xiao didn’t want to speak out loud on the topic, but he did think the lanterns were beautiful. It was soothing, mixed with the sound of trickling water from the river, it was a sight to behold, one he was thankful you’d shared with him.

After returning to the shore, you made your way back to the Inn. The two of you walked side by side quietly, your pinky laced with his. When you reached the foot of the large tree which held the Inn, you let go and stood beside Xiao.

“I had a lot of fun tonight, with you.” You spoke quietly to not disturb the peace around the Inn. Xiao glanced at the ground and then to you.

“It would be foolish if you tried to journey back home, you should stay at the Inn for tonight.” Xiao knew you could be stubborn as well. You were planning on traveling toward Liyue Harbor, but that journey alone would take hours.

“Oh, I’ll be alright, I’ll make it at least halfway before I need to stop-”

“You can stay with me. I won’t say it again.” Xiao’s grip on your hand was strong, but gentle. He wasn’t hurting you, but you could tell by the tone of his voice, he seemed concerned for your journey.

“It’s not safe. And I’m not going to save you a second time today.” Xiao’s comment was humorous in intention, but it sounded more like saving people was a chore.

“Alright, I’ll stay.” You sigh and begin to head up toward the Inn’s front desk. Xiao followed suit, bringing you up to his own room. It wasn’t anything super lavish, like what people would’ve expected for a Yaksha.

There was a rather large bed and many war-type relics and artifacts littered the room, from swords to pikes you swore you’d seen him use before.

“Sleep. And you better not snore.” Xiao changed quickly behind a room divider and waited until you said you were decent to step out. You both wore simple sleep clothing.

“I thought you didn’t get tired.” You huffed, smiling as you crawled into the bed,  a yawn leaving your lips.

Seeing Xiao in something so plain looked almost criminal. He looked like a normal human. Xiao crawled into the bed and scooted as close to the edge as he could. 

“Just because I don’t tire doesn’t mean I can’t sleep.” Xiao’s tone shifted as he sat down on the edge of the bed, debating on whether to lay down beside you or stay sitting up, eventually he caved and laid beside you, as close to the edge as he could get, leaving you plenty of space to sleep.

But as the night carried on, you inched closer to one another, eventually ending up in his arms, held tightly, it made Xiao feel secure to hold you in his arms. He was safe, you were safe. It made him feel at home. Like he still had a piece of tranquil mortality inside him.

He knew he’d ‘wake’ up tomorrow and play the role of the ‘Vigilant Yaksha’ but for now he’d hold you in his arms as you slept and hope for this to be a glimmer of redemption for a better, more peaceful, kind of karma.

masterlist

[reginaofdoctorwho]

if anyone wants to recommend musicals to me I would fucking adore that. Until then, here are some suggestions:

Love in Hate Nation-- LET’S GO LESBIANS! 1960s sapphic love story taking place in a girls’ reformatory. Also, trans girl played by trans actress!!! Some of the amazing songs are “I Hope” and “Oh Well”. Susannah Son wants to be a singer, her performative activist boyfriend is gross and also wants her to marry him so he’ll have better options politically. Sheila Nail is so fucking cool and I love everyone in this. My brain cuts out about this I’m so sorry babes. There is not a cast recording but there IS an original cast bootleg on youtube.

Holy Musical B@man!-- If you liked the goofiness of 1960s Batman and Robin, but think “man, these guys should’ve been able to swear! And also should have had a candy themed villain!” this is the musical for you. Also if you’ve heard of the very queer Harry Potter musical that JK herself tried to sue over, it’s made by the same group <3. As usual with Team Starkid, whole thing is up for free on youtube by the creators.

Firebringer-- Speaking of the same group... Cave people sapphics who I think are bi or pan. I love them and they’re all so dumb. Also, if you’ve seen the “I don’t really wanna do the work today” vine, that comes from this. I do not remember any of the second half other than one of them taking the ring the other is proposing with... to propose. And the “*blows kiss*” “fuck no, Zazz” “duly noted”. Kind of like a shitpost musical. Once again, free by creators. Actually, check out any of their musicals.

The Prom-- In Indiana, Emma just wants to take her girlfriend to the prom, and in response, the PTA cancels it. With some help from some broadway actors looking for good publicity, they manage to pull it off. So, to summarize, teen lesbian gets gay uncle who knows what she’s going through!! This musical makes me cry every goddamn time. There is a movie now, and I’m very happy about that because *high profile gay rep on netflix*, but I personally did not like the direction they took with it. They put a weird amount of emphasis on biological rather than found family in the movie, and were a little too forgiving when it came to trauma from family for being gay. Also, they took away Emma being butch. This was sadly (loosely) based on a recent true story from I think 2012. Also, was the first gay kiss in the Macy’s parade. You know those movie musicals the straight girls in theater like? The music is similar, but gayer, and for some reason that makes me so fuckng happy. I think it’s because non-queer people have had musicals for so long, and those normally have a 60s vibe, and the music in this does too and it feels more classic?? Sapphic promposal song (het at the beginning). “Unruly Heart” and the end of Act 1 will break you. Please ignore the bad wigs.

Spies Are Forever-- GAY SPIES GAY SPIES GAY SPIES!! Curt Mega (played by... Curt Mega) lost his partner Owen during a mission. Now, he’s just trying to get back into spying like Owen would want. I fucking weep every time. Also, a song about comphet (at 6:36)!! And here is a video essay on how it relates to the Lavender Scare. I want you all to know that everyone also headcanons the femme fatale spy in it as either a lesbian or aroace, which uh, makes sense. Also high quality videos put up by creators. They had Jewish people making fun of Nazis while writing this, but “Not so Bad” is... kinda bad. “Torture Tango” has so much goddamn sexual tension and becomes devastating.

Hadestown--  If you know the myth of Orpheus and Eurydice, it’s like that, except capitalism part 1. Orpheus is a poor musician, Eurydice dies, just like the myth. Except, the Great Depression post-apocalyptic setting that works better than it probably should. There are actually 3 soundtracks: the concept album, off-Broadway, and Broadway. I personally don’t like the concept album purely based on vibe. Off-Broadway has an absolutely gorgeous sounding Orpheus, and if you’ve heard of the disaster that was Spiderman: Turn Out the Dark, then you’ve heard of surprisingly amazing Broadway Orpheus Reeve Carney. The Fates are gorgeous and I’ve decided they’re queer. Tony’s performance link here. Explores relationships, with Hades and Persephone’s aging relationship mirrored by Orpheus and Eurydice’s relatively new one. Anyway, unionize.

Jasper in Deadland-- If you know the myth of Orpheus and Eurydice, it’s like that, except capitalism part 2. Jasper is a teen who’s best friend Agnes is pretty much the one good thing left in his life. His mom left, he got kicked off the swim team (he’s manic pixie dream boy in this, especially for swimming), and Agnes dies at the beginning trying to show Jasper that she’s brave and he should be too. So, he bravely ventures into Deadland to find her, meeting Gretchen the tour guide along the way. He also finds out that since he’s still living, he can bring memories back to the dead. Songs like “Stroke by Stroke” (he’s uh, definitely a teen, guys) and “Living Dead” (I shared a prinxiety animatic of that on here a while ago).They blend Greek, Norse, Egyptian, Christian, and whatever Dante’s Inferno counts as together to create Deadland. Story’s kinda hard to follow from the soundtrack, so if u wanna learn how it all ties together message me.

Death Note Musical-- Okay babes, here’s where it gets tough. It was written originally in English, and there is a spectacular English concept album, but the only productions have been in South Korea, Japan, and I think Taiwan. Listen to it anyways, find a bootleg of it with english subtitles. It has so much gay tension and also a truly ethereal character who seems to be a lesbian who is also either demisexual or demiromantic. If any of y’all saw the anime like me, it kind of cuts out the arc after episode 26. I personally thought it was actually a better story for it.

Alice by Heart-- Okay, this one makes me fucking cry every goddamn time. In WW2, these poor goddamn kids are all alone in the Tube System (is that what y’all call it? genuinely asking here) with none of their parents but still some grownups. Alice’s best friend Alfred is dying of tuberculosis, and to try to have one last thing together they start reading Alice in Wonderland, only for Nurse Hart to rip it apart to try to separate healthy Alice from dying-from-TB Alfred. It doesn’t work, and Alice proclaims she “knows it all by heart”, She tries to linger in the story with Alfred to have more time with him, he keeps trying to move it along because he’s dying and wants to finish it one last time. Themes are growing up and grief I guess.

Last I checked, there is a bootleg for all of these on youtube. Have fun!