#or when its windy i like to take a moment to actually Feel the wind in my skin and hair

[sunset-bridge]

What, to you, is the best time of day? I’m a fan of dawn, when the soft sun is slowly warming everything

OOOOH.... dawn is really cuuuute and nice..

hmmm....i think... well sunset is nice to look at, but to actually, be there and exist, i think i like. midday-evening? maybe im a little weirdo but i tend to enjoy the sun on my skin and the air and the light etc etc . when i spend too many days at home i really enjoy even when the sun burns a bit. its like. yyyyyyes .... deadly lazer...... yum...

yeah like. to be at home i guess sunset and night is fine. but to be outside.. i like when the sky is still blue, but the sun isnt as strong so. yeah EVENING... sometimes i just like to flop on grass and look at the plants and the clouds and the sky etc etc yknow remember im alive and shit

[whelmed-birdie]

Whispers in the Rain

Prompt: Dick Grayson x f!Reader find themselves caught in a sudden rainstorm while on patrol.

Tags: fluff, that’s it really :)

1k words

_________________________________

Y/V/N = Your Vigilante Name

(the only reason i put f!reader is because of the picture at the end, its not specified in the story)

________________________________

Luckily it's been a quiet night, which usually only serves to heighten your nerves, but you can't help but be thankful tonight as rain pelts your body- the warm and calm night vanishing into windy, freezing conditions. Usually, you share Nightwings' desire to finish patrol each night, but the normal feigned annoyance quickly melts into true annoyance along with what feels like all the warmth in your body. You can't help but swear when your foot slips as you jump from one building to the next. Luckily you still stick the landing, but you aren't completely off the hook.

"Language."

The voice to your left startles you, but you recognize it immediately and roll your eyes.

"Your siblings aren't even here to hear me, what do you care?"

"Habit I guess, also just know it annoys you"

You hate the way you can hear his smile as he responds even though you aren't looking at him.

"Typical. Anyways while you're here, consider this my two-week notice." You say, only half-joking, as you suppress another shiver.

"Ha. Funny. We're almost done, it's not that bad"

"Says the one with the fancy self-heated suit."

When you don't hear a reply you turn your head in his direction, you meet his eyes, which look even brighter than normal contrasted with his dark hair plastered to his forehead. He studies you for a moment,

"Let's find a place with shelter until the storm passes and we can keep patrolling."

You give Dick a weird look, you're about to question him but a particularly strong gust of wind that only worsens the chill makes you decide to simply agree.

__

It doesn't take long to find an abandoned building that blocks the wind and rain. It's already 4 am and you would be lying if you said you weren't slightly irritable

"Dick I-"

"Names." He scolds but you can tell by the brightness in his eyes that he's just trying to annoy you, like always.

You flip him off and continue talking through his snort, "Nightwing. I swear if we end up sitting here until sunrise I will cut off your toes and feed them to you."

Dick feigns shock, "Oh dear. Well, I better hope the storm lets up before then." He says.

"You better." You say, absentmindedly running your hands up and down your cold arms, glaring at the sky. You kinda feel bad about your sour mood, but you can't help it. You're tired, cold, and also kinda hate storms.

Suddenly you feel hands that aren't your own, and significantly warmer, rubbing your arms.

"Uhm. What are you doing?"

"Well like you said, you don't have suit warmers. You look freezing. And angry."

Your eyes narrow as you scrutinize Dick, you've learned to always be prepared for a joke with him, but you find only sincerity.

"Hm. I'll allow it. Just because I am really cold."

"Of course."

After a few moments, Dick wraps his arms around you, and you can't even find the strength to argue. His warmth contrasts so strongly with the chill of the air. You accidentally let out a little noise of contentedness, earning a soft chuckle from Dick.

"Has the mighty Y/V/N been defeated by a hug?"

You feign a dramatic gasp, "Has this been your plan all along?" You pretend to push yourself out of his grasp, not trying nearly hard enough to actually separate yourself from his warmth.

Dick continues to play along, though, "You've figured it out. But it's too late! You shall be trapped in my clutch forever!" He fakes an evil laugh and you laugh genuinely with him, still pretending to try and break free.

During the faux fight, his large hands clasp your wrists and he holds them between your bodies, your movements slow down to a stop as your eyes meet Dicks.

Both smiles melt away into a look of desire, you glance at Dicks lips for a split second, wondering if he feels the same tension you do.

Your question is answered when his lips crash into yours, none of the hesitance you might have expected for your first kiss with him, and the desperation in his movements causes your knees to go weak. Dicks hold on your wrists has loosened and you use the opportunity to gently grasp the sides of his face. You're not sure how long you have been kissing at this point but long enough that you can feel the drastic change of temperature on your lips when you finally pull away. You both catch your breath and when you open your eyes you find his still closed, and you take the moment to admire this man in front of you. His lips are always beautiful but there's something about seeing them red and bitten, knowing it was your doing, that suddenly you want to see them like that indefinitely.

Finally, Dick opens his eyes and when he sees you already looking, you watch as his cheeks redden and you both wear matching smiles. Suddenly Dick looks off to the side, towards the skyline, and he chuckles lightly and looks back to your face.

You keep your eyes on him with a confused expression, but his smile only grows,

"So what's the verdict? Are you gonna...what was it again?...cut off my toes and feed them to me?"

You are utterly confused until the memory of what you said comes back, it feels like years ago even though it was only an hour or so, but you feel like your life has completely changed. You look to the horizon, and sure enough, the sun has started peaking out.

You let out a laugh, but school your expression into one of contemplation, "Hmm, I'm not sure yet. But you might be able to sway your odds?" You say and raise an eyebrow.

Dick nods in fake dejection, "I see," he sighs, "Let me know when I have paid my penalty." Dick says, leaning in to kiss you again.

You grin, "You might be here all day"

"If you insist."

[rockingrobin69]

Goodness (grief)

It’s windy. Always windy here, like an omen or a sign or a hill. It’s not a hill (not-not a hill, too) and probably not a sign.

My shoes squeak terribly. It’s so distracting I can barely walk straight. With every step, squeak, squeak. Each pace closer (and further away from the car, from the world) and the squeaking, it’s driving me crazy.

I’m not crying. Not-not crying either. It’s windy, my shoes are annoying as fuck, and I can’t quite remember why I even came here. Thought it’d be a nice moment, somehow? It’s not. There’s construction work on the wall maybe twenty metres away, it’s loud and there are faces staring at me (god, can’t anyone crumble in peace anymore?) is it funny to call for god here? Is it—ooh—blasphemous?

Sorry. Sorry. I know I’m being prickly and hard but god, (haha), it’s windy and I’m tired. Have been tired for a long time. There’s this… fog, in my head, not quite fog, and it makes every movement heavier, but I don’t always notice it. So I carry it around, this ten-stone weight of a not-fog, and then I’m tired? Oh, wait, was this an understanding? Beats me.

I went to an automatic car wash today. First time in my life. I think. Can’t remember ever being behind the wheel while the car goes on its little ride. You just sit there? On neutral? And it carries you through. I laughed so hard when the big roller-thingies came, I actually startled myself. It hurt my throat how hard I laughed. With surprise and delight and mostly surprise. I didn’t expect it to feel like this? I didn’t expect anything to feel quite like this.

So then I came here, with a clean car (and wouldn’t you be so happy. Relieved to know I’m driving a clean car). (How did you raise such a slob? Honestly). It was meant to be a, I don’t know, moment. It’s not. I think I just wanted it to be something, just wanted, just wanted it to be. Something. And it’s not.

So I walk back (squeak squeak), in defeat or in triumph, neither. I just walk and squeak. Back to the car. I’ve always cried the most in the car, shielded from Other Eyes (like faces staring at you from behind a tractor). (Always those issues with being seen).

I manage to drive maybe ten metres before it starts. The crumbling, the crumbling. Park (the car park’s empty, and I barely moved) and bawl and bawl. I’m so used to telling myself to stop it, not now, not here, that in the moment of truth I’m not sure if I’m doing it right. Is this what it’s meant to feel like?

(I always used to have to justify my sadness, to quantify and register and prod. Maybe, if I found its core, the Centre, I’d be able to let it go. When have I ever let anything go? God. No, not god. Something else. Anything else).

So I cry (and cry) and cry (and cry) and cry (it’s honestly tearing my throat apart). No one is here and no one is looking. I can cry all I want, I stop after two, three minutes. This it? Is it over? Not over-over, just, is this fucking fog starting to lift, or—what more can I do, what other, drastic action can I take, how dramatic and terrible do I need to be (when it’s just me here, just me, no one is watching, fucking, fuck, give yourself a fucking break). I don’t feel better.

I drive to your house. Someone still lives here. And I take a few calls and answer an email (it’s a working day after all, I’m supposed to be working. An adult, I think they call it). There’s a dog (I love the dog) there’s a break from the fucking wind. I take it like the coward I am. (A fucking break, please, please).

I write this. I don’t cry, just tear up a little. The dog wants to go outside, so we go. There’s a tiny little bit of sunlight.

I… might feel better after all.

[skinandscales-if]

"it takes me seven days to stop being in love with you" + puck?

Atlas | Skye | Reese

⎯

That day was sunny, so you and Puck visited the sea.

It was a little windy, but not enough to deter either of you, as you both found an isolated slice of the boardwalk and decided to walk down it for the day. Having this much free time was a rarity, and one you were determined to experience at its fullest. Puck wasn’t as busy anymore either, so the break was a breath of fresh air between the two of you. As the wind whips by, you swear you can see dark clouds out on the horizon.

“Looks like we got here just in time. Might rain.” You muse, pulling your jacket tighter to yourself. Puck hums in acknowledgment and peers skyward, catching the same view as they adjust their glasses. 

“Hm. Looks likely.” Their features slowly turn mischievous, a glint in their eyes that you know well by now. You smile even before they speak. “If we have to take shelter, I’m not letting you under if there’s not enough room.”

You laugh, a surprised noise that is gutted in your throat. You elbow into their side a bit and stare at them in astonishment as they grin back at you.

“Where’d that come from? You’re already planning on abandoning me after all I did to plan today?” You chuckle, shaking your head at them dramatically as you heave out a loud sigh. “Wow. I see how it is.”

“Aw come on. You love me.” They snipe back, leaning in a little closer in just a way that makes their presence a bit overwhelming. They block most of the breeze this way, until you can really only focus on them and keeping one foot in front of the other. They don’t seem to notice your plight. Or maybe they do. Instead, they just give you a stunning smile, wrapping one arm around your middle. It’s hard to feel the contact through all the layers but you are still very aware of it. It’s warm and unbroken by your steps.

“Nah… I think I could break up with you easy, actually.” You deflect, rolling your eyes as you scoff at the quick return of their charm. Always the one to dial it up when they’re in trouble. And it’s difficult to ever really find them in trouble, so this attention is all the more appreciated. The bastard.

“Hm? Really? That easily?” They ask, straightening up a bit. You tense a bit as their arm moves away from your back a bit though they don’t remove it entirely. Puck is considering something, a look you know better than any of their others as they wrinkle their nose a bit and their head tilts just slightly enough to not be purposeful.

“It would take me seven days to stop being in love with you.”

“Huh?”

Puck looks back to you, now a bit more serious. Have they really considered this? Your chest tightens a bit before they clear it up.

“The seven stages of grief. I’d go through one each day.” They correct, giving you a slight nod. Your own mood has grown a bit more serious, a bit more solemn. They’re also very good at that. Keeping you grounded when you need to be. This seems like a strange time, though. The waves crash a little harder on the rocks to your side. 

“Isn’t it five? Five stages of grief?” You add, now determined to get to the bottom of this sudden change in mood. Puck doesn’t look very plussed, instead focused on this new topic, eyes wandering somewhere out there beyond the end of the boardwalk.

“Mm… well, yes, for the most part. But the seven stages are for a more complex understanding of grief. They add in shock before everything and one for reconstruction. It allows for a more comprehensive view of things.” 

You stare at them for another moment, incredulous. They continue.

“I think not allowing me those two extra days would be a disservice. Whiskey for shock. Tea for reconstruction.” They glance over to you now, smile slowly overcoming their features once again and the nerves flood out of your system. That shine that catches the edge of their glasses, the same light that reflects so perfectly in the brown pools of their eyes. You lean a bit closer unconsciously, like some sort of magnetic pull keeps you tethered to them. To the here and now. It’s the strangest and most comforting thing in the world, their gravity. It’s all-consuming, warm, and constant. You think if you ever confessed it to Puck they’d have some kind of explanation for it but you don’t want that. Some things are best left unexplained.

“That’d be concise, don’t you think?” Puck finishes. You blink at them, returning to yourself as you register their words and a familiar smile works it’s way onto your face.

“You’re such a nerd.” You chuckle, shaking your head again. You pull from them a bit but don’t let their hand fall away, instead moving to grip it. You can’t even feel the sea breeze anymore. They laugh back and it pulls at your heart until it aches. Damn. “You’re lucky I’m in love with you.”

“Oh so you won’t break up with me now?”

“Oh my god Puck.”

[kayssweetdreams]

A Wonderous Christmas Ch 17

Meanwhile, Back with Team Winds in Wonderworld...

Haoyu grasped onto a large gear for dear life as he braced himself. As it turns out, looking for the Winds of Change was harder than it sounded. Not only did the group have to He able to catch a gust of wind, but they also needed to be careful of the harsh gusts of wind and the hard waves that crashed around them.

Fiona let out a panicked yelp as she grabbed onto a paint splattered chess piece. "HOW ARE WE GOING TO FIND THE WIND?!" She yelled over the crashing waves "I DON'T KNOW!! WHERE ARE CAL AND LUCY?!" Haoyu yelled back. The hard gusts pushed the two of them back and forth, as if they were ragdolls in the wind.

"DARLINGS!! OVER HERE!!" Lucy's voice rang out. The two of them saw her and Cal hiding between a solid wall of plane wreckage, coral and splattered frames. Fighting against the wing, The two of them made their way towards the makeshift shelter. Haoyu let out a sigh of relief when he finally felt himself hear his own thoughts again.

"Thank goodness...But how in Wonderworld are we supposed to get a gust of wind. It's WIND." He said. The others found the task confusing as well, how were they going to catch a gust of wind? Especially one used to cause the Warmth of Wonder...

"No need to be nervous, perhaps I can be of service!" Balan's voice said. The four of them looked around for the source of the voice, until Cal took a closer look at what was INSIDE of their frame like structure. To his relief, it was a portrait of Balan, who began waving at them. Fiona smiled at the maestro "Hey Balan! We were actually wondering if there was you can help us with." Shs said.

"Of course Fiona! I can help indeed! Just tell me what exactly you need!" The portrait said, giving them a wink. "OK, Well 2 things. 1: How do we know what the Winds of Change look like, and 2:How on earth do we even CATCH a gust of wind?" Cal asked. The Balan Portrait gave a chuckle "I guess you have never caught a windy gust. But to stop the Winter, that you Must. The Winds of Change However you can catch with ease, because unlike the harsh gusts, they're a calming breeze!" He explained.

Haoyu scratched his head "Yeah, but how do we CATCH it? It's wind." He stated bluntly. Balan pulled out a cloud shaped bottle from his back "Take this jar, and step into the breeze, then the rest should be easy if You please." He said. The hand holding the jar pushed its way into the physical world from the portait as Cal grabbed it.

"Well then...I guess we just have to feel the wind to determine what the Winds of Change feel like." Haoyu said. The others stared at him "Oh yes. You intend to stand out in THAT." Cal said, pointing at the harsh winds blowing in front of them. "We can't stay in here forever, sooner or later the wind WILL blow this away, Winds of Change or not." Fiona said.

The gears in Haoyu and Cal's minds began to turn. They needed to feel the wind so that they could catch it...but standing out in that dangerous windy storm didn't seem like a good idea. Haoyu snapped his fingers with a 'Eureka!' Moment in his mind "I HAVE AN IDEA!!" He shouted. "Balan! Do you have a costume that protects against strong winds?" He asked the portait.

The painted maestro brought out a clothing rack "I have what you inquire, just choose what you desire!" He said.

Meanwhile, Back out in Timeville...

Walt began to get angry. It's been a full 4 hours, and the Winter had begun to spread across most of the Highland Isle, as well as the rest of the sea. This would normally make him giddy with joy, but he was expecting the Brunos to bring out Mirabella's book and find a way to fix it...and he was starting to get suspicious about their disappearance.

The blonde man growled "WHERE ARE THEY?!" He yelled out in fury. Wilma raised an annoyed eyebrow at him "They probably fled to somewhere warmer. Somewhere that's NOT here." She deadpanned. Walt glared at her "NO! THEY WERE HERE!! I'M SURE OF IT!!" He screamed.

Wilma rolled her eyes "Here's a thought, since the town is frozen over, why don't you just break into the Bruno Mansion, and just take the book? I mean it's not like they're there." She said. Walt was about to retort, until he realized that she had a point, he COULD just get in there and find the book, but then he would need someone's from the Bruno Bloodline to actually get the book open.

"Hmm...Alright. let's go get that book." He sneered

The Keller family belongs to @lovelyteng

[redshift-starfire]

I'm in a mood and I'm gonna sadpost about it

This tiktok almost eerily plays back a ton of my memories from living in Sweden a year or so ago. Like some of these shots look almost identical to the images in my head

I'll list them out in reverse order, cause I feel it tells a story that way:

Shot #12: White cloth held up to the sun

Going out with friends to celebrate Valborg and Midsommar.

Shot #11: Horse running through a courtyard

That time I rode by someone leading a horse while I was biking through the woods. And maybe a little bit of seeing the king visit my town. This one's the least similar to my memories

Shot #10: Wind Farm in the Sea

Visiting Copenhagen and seeing that exact view crossing Øresundsbron over the Denmark Straight in a train

Shot #9: City at Night, Street Level

This one brings up a lot of images. Particularly riding my bike home at night and passing by lakes and city lights. And watching the aurora through my window with the city under it all

Shot #8: Windy Beach on a Cloudy Day

Visiting Kalmar on Christmas Eve and nearly busting my ass trying to walk on ice at the beach. I got this really nice photo tho

Shot #7: Movie Screen on an Airplane

I originally thought this was a regular tv and it reminded me of watching movies in my shared apartment, but with this new context it actually reminds me of trying and failing to watch LotR: The Two Towers on my connecting flight to Iceland (which I apparently thought to photograph)

Shot #6: Oceanside Patio

In the same Christmas Eve visit to Kalmar I also visited Kalmar Castle. Obviously this shot isn't of a castle, but with all the other memories this tiktok brings up it really reminds me of a place just outside the castle I stayed a moment to appreciate (not pictured)

Shot #5: Cat walking across a balcony out a window

The many times I was able to have dinner with my German friend Sweny. They're one of the nicest people I've ever met and I miss them deeply. They were the first person I saw when I first arrived fresh off the train, and they gave me a hug I desperately needed

Shot #4: Foggy hills next to a highway

The first leg of a larger trip up to Lapland / Sápmi. I was riding a bus up by Jönköping towards Stockholm and probably saw this exact view dozens of times

Shot #3: Flowerpatch

One of the paths to one of the grocery stores I went to after moving into a new apartment brought me up a hill that was covered in flowers and overlooked the city. That grocery store sucks but the view always made it worth it

Shot #2: The moon's reflection in the water

The countless times I would go out to the lake at night. For whatever reason, be it anxiety, insomnia, or just to see the stars and be at peace near the water. I actually have this photo as my pfp rn

Shot #1: Looking out a train window moving through the countryside

Looking out the window of a train going home from Malmö at a large expanse of farmland, after just being told that I'll have 7 days to pack my things and leave. I was being deported

I don't know why I took this photo. It's blurry, out of focus, and just pointed at a spot in the sky with a tree branch barely in view. It's not how I take photos. But I'm painfully aware of its context. This was only moments after the swedish border police threatened to put me in detention after I foolishly tried to apply for asylum in a desperate plea to try and stay in a country I felt at home in.

To include my take on the trend where people take Kitchen Fan Lullaby (the sound in the tiktok) and say "'It's just a girl harmonizing to a fan' no it's..." and describe a heartbreaking experience of theirs. This is mine. This is what I think of when I hear that sound.

I hear what it felt like to sit for an eternity at stop after stop, getting on bus then train, then bus again, and staring out at the passing landscape through a constant stream of tears knowing that in 7 days I'm going to lose my home, my friends, my community, and the place I had grown to love over a year of living there. I was going to have to pack all my things, leave a good chunk of my stuff behind, and go back to live in the borderline-abusive household that I was fleeing to begin with.

And here I am, after however many months it's been since I flew back. I don't even know how long it's been, probably because I dissociated most of it away. Since then I've discovered that I am an osdd system and I've been reckoning with that and the deportation all these months, and I'm nowhere close to fully accepting either of them. Healing from all of this and all of my previous trauma while trying to get back on my feet with school in the place I'm in currently is pretty close to impossible. Often times I make a month's worth of progress only to see it fall apart in front of my eyes. I feel like a shell of who I used to be. And I've been so overwhelmed with emotion that I lashed out and hurt one of my closest friends.

I'm trying to keep these memories alive, but a mix of dissociation and my father's seeming inability to acknowledge my time spent outside of the country makes these memories fade more day after day. I am trying to hold onto the good things to pull through, but it's still difficult, especially right now. I really hope this story has a good ending but it's still being written. I'll be sure to update if it eventually does.

If you've read this far, thank you. I hope you're having a good day. Please take care of yourself.

[splendourofrecognition]

I listen to the wind, to the wind of my soul

Yet another song, flitting across my busy mind, without any clear trace as to where it arose from. Well, that's not true actually- it's a very windy day and the wind is currently blowing loudly as I type this, so I've found the link.

I keep thinking "I must keep track of that" or "that observation feels important, I must put it somewhere to reflect on another day." Yet, where to put it, how to track it and when to reflect? It's absurdly confusing and I don't have a systematic way of doing it. Amazing, too, how many moments occur on any given day that feel important. The truth is that I can't possibly track everything I want or mull over something at a later date...so some of this is a discernment predicament. First discern, then decide, THEN keep track/reflect later etc. I think I'm reflecting on this particular point in order to avoid all the others, which are the actual things I need to be reflecting on. Right now.

My NHS job is weighing on my body and soul. It has been, for such a long time. Only as I take small steps to extricate myself am I becoming more aware of the cost of this burden, the way it robs me of my energy, leaving me little left over to show love to myself, my family, my friends- all the things I actually care about. I feel sad and heavy when I reflect on the zero-sum gameness of life; that if your attention is in one place, it is absent in another. How much has already been lost, swept up the torrent of my fears around self-worth and all during the first years of Ruby's life that I (and she) will never be able to return to.

I watched my mom do this and vowed to not do the same. Yet, here I sit. Ravaged by a feeling that I might die soon, both literally and figuratively. It sounds so dramatic, really. But that doesn't shift the truth of it and truth is where I'm trying to make my peace. When I first saw Ros, I knew work (specifically, the NHS job) was a pernicious forcefield pulling me under and likened it to Japanese knotweed; a weed so forceful and rapacious that seeks to find cracks in structural foundations and push its way through. Full of destruction and growth. I knew in that moment, too, that my mom was somehow woven into this weed. During our subsequent sessions, she appeared like an apparition that slowly gained opacity as I ventured back into those painful memories. At one point, going so far as to banish her with the words of Gollum, "Leave now and never come back." What, or who, was I trying to banish? The belief that you must sacrifice all that you love at the altar of "responsibility" (code for patriarchy and capitalism). Uphold the status quo, at all costs, even your own life. Do what others tell you to, even if you don't value their opinion. The measurement of society is real and you will be judged at every move; your worth determined by your ability to uphold your white, middle-class, monotonous life, devoid of creativity, spontaneity and joy.

This has a quality of a self-fulfilling prophecy. By worrying from such a young age that I would become my mom, I thereby put into motion the machinations to do just that. But...why? How did this come to pass, when it was diametrically opposed to what I was seeking in the first place?

And if I'm repeating the cycle, where does that leave Ruby? I'm modelling something to her, just as my mom did to me. The messages are unpredictable and I can only speculate, but what I do know is that she's viewing her mom going to work at a job that genuinely feels as if it is killing her at times and for what? Because she's "supposed to" do it...according to who? It would be all too easy to cite money at this juncture- the undebatable reality that our world requires money, for everything. It also has to be said that I don't have to go to a job that destroys my life force in order to make money and have in fact being going to various other jobs that provide what I need, without killing me in the process. So why have I hung on? Should I just hand in my notice?

[pesterloglog]

Roxy Lalonde, John Egbert

Act 6, page 6453-6459

ROXY: hay look

ROXY: its jake stuffed in a blue windsock

ROXY: heheheh

JOHN: huh?

ROXY: n/m

ROXY: so what kind of hot god tier trix can you teach me

JOHN: tricks...

JOHN: i guess i don't know any actual TRICKS per se, aside from how to use some of my powers.

JOHN: but i don't know if the same tricks apply to using your powers...

ROXY: u said u could help tho

JOHN: i said MAYBE i could!

JOHN: i dunno, i was just throwing it out there.

JOHN: like, maybe if i told you about some of the experiences i had when i was learning to do my windy stuff, you might have some kind of... voidey epiphany?

ROXY: a voidey epiphany

JOHN: yes.

ROXY: k then

ROXY: im all ears johnny windsock

ROXY: let loose ur wisdom whilst i rake in the epiphanies

JOHN: ok, um,

JOHN: i've noticed whenever i learn to do new things with my powers, it's usually in response to something. like something important that has to be done.

JOHN: so why are you trying to make this spike ball?

JOHN: and how important does it feel to you?

ROXY: well at first i was mainly tryin to make it because dog girl was forcing me to

ROXY: but now i think i keep trying because im gettin obsessed with making this dumb spikeball and PO'd that i cant do it

JOHN: i see.

JOHN: what actually IS this spike ball, if you don't mind my asking?

ROXY: its an alien egg

ROXY: 4 tha trolls

ROXY: to hatch em all back to life

ROXY: but only to be ruled by an evil witch so its gonna be shitty for them

ROXY: so yeah its kind of an important thing

ROXY: but at the same time it would probably be terrible if i actually made it so...

JOHN: then maybe the fact that you're conflicted about it is why you're having trouble?

ROXY: yeh maybe

JOHN: if you think it's important to make, but don't want to give it to the bad guys, why don't you just...

JOHN: break out of jail?

JOHN: then you could try to make the egg at your own discretion, and use it however you think is best.

ROXY: idk

ROXY: i broke outta here once already and the fuckin witch just nabbed me again

ROXY: and that was BEFORE she recruited jakes omnipotent goofball grandma to zap me back here the moment i step outside

JOHN: yeah. it is a tricky situation with grimbark jade on the loose, that's for sure.

JOHN: but i've been managing to evade her.

JOHN: i just swoosh the breeze around to hide my scent, and dissolve into wind and fly away if she finds me.

JOHN: maybe you could do something like that too?

JOHN: it seems to me if anyone should be able to avoid detection using their powers, it would be a void player.

JOHN: get it? a void... as in, avoid?

JOHN: heh.

ROXY: that is legit sound reasoning yo

ROXY: + a way lame pun 2 boot

ROXY: but remember how we were just talkin about the fact that when it comes to god tier shit i dont know what the eff im doin??

JOHN: oh.

JOHN: right.

ROXY: anyway

ROXY: i thought you were going to regale me with stories of your ascent through the windsock tiers

ROXY: such that i may through osmosis glean the vagaries of godhood

ROXY: then all i got to do is wait for this rude tidal wave of epiphanies n junk to wash over me and get me hella wise

ROXY: then and only then

ROXY: i will b able to make this shitty egg happen

ROXY: k?

JOHN: ok. where should i start?

ROXY: at the beginning!

JOHN: you mean like when i first became a god tier?

JOHN: that's a long story... i was kind of tricked into that.

JOHN: it might take some setup to understand.

ROXY: dude look

ROXY: i dont have grand illusions that this yarn you spinll be like some actual efficacious tutelage on fuckin pajama spells

ROXY: i just want to hear u talk about stuff

ROXY: wanna kno ur stories!!!

ROXY: go :3

JOHN: alright.

JOHN: in that case, i guess it all started on my thirteenth birthday.

JOHN: which was three years ago, by the way.

JOHN: i heard about this awesome game, or at least one i thought was awesome, and i wanted to play it with my friends.

JOHN: but it wasn't so easy to start. i had to get it from the mail, which meant sneaking around the house while avoiding my dad.

JOHN: which was kind of stupid and childish in retrospect, but blah blah blah.

JOHN: blah blah blah blah blah.

JOHN: blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah.

ROXY: hmmmmm

ROXY: go on

JOHN: blah blah blah blah blah blah blah meteor.

JOHN: blah blah blah.

JOHN: blah blah blah blah blah nannasprite blah blah blah blah oil everywhere blah blah blah blah blah blah imps blah blah blah.

ROXY: m hm

JOHN: blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah.

JOHN: blah blah blah your daughter blah blah at least i think she is blah blah blah blah.

JOHN: blah salamanders blah blah blah.

JOHN: blah blah blah blah blah trolls blah blah blah blah blah rocketpack blah blah blah died.

ROXY: rly

JOHN: blah blah karkat blah blah blah blah blah ectobiology.

JOHN: blah blah blah jack noir.

JOHN: blah blah blah blah blah blah blah queen's ring blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah my dad blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah a girl named vriska.

JOHN: blah blah blah blah windy thing blah blah blah blah blah blah ocean of green fire.

ROXY: wow

JOHN: blah blah blah quest bed blah blah blah blah blah.

JOHN: blah blah prototyped blah blah blah blah blah blah blah jade's omnipotent dog.

JOHN: blah blah chess guy blah blah blah blah blah flying around in my dad's car blah blah blah blah blah blah blah liv tyler.

JOHN: blah the battlefield blah blah blah blah huge wind drill blah blah blah blah the tumor.

JOHN: blah blah.

ROXY: pls continue

JOHN: blah blah blah followed rose blah blah blah blah blah blah blah mom and dad died blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah kissed her back to life.

JOHN: blah blah blah blah the scratch.

JOHN: blah blah huge record blah blah blah blah blah blah giant needle.

JOHN: blah blah blah blah blah green sun blah blah blah blah blah reset blah blah blah blah blah god tier jade blah blah blah blah blah blah blah golden battleship.

ROXY: ur kiddin me

JOHN: blah blah blah blah blah through a giant window.

JOHN: blah blah three years blah blah blah blah blah blah con air.

JOHN: blah blah thought it sucked blah blah blah blah but eventually came to my senses blah blah.

JOHN: blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah ghost busters 2 mmorpg.

ROXY: mm

JOHN: blah blah blah blah blah blah DUEL WITH JACK NOIR!

JOHN: blah blah blah TURNED INTO WIND AND ESCAPED blah blah blah blah blah blah.

JOHN: blah blah blah blah COOL HAT WITH RABBIT EARS!

ROXY: oooh

JOHN: blah blah blah CRACKS IN PARADOX SPACE blah blah blah ENCHANTED DESERT blah blah blah MAGIC RING!

JOHN: blah blah ADVENTURE ON THE HIGH SEAS blah blah blah blah blah blah GHOSTLY TROLL PIRATES!

JOHN: blah ULTIMATE WEAPON blah blah blah blah blah blah DEFEAT LORD ENGLISH!

ROXY: !!

JOHN: blah blah blah blah HOUSE SHAPED THINGY!

JOHN: blah blah POKED MY HAND INSIDE blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah UNSTUCK IN CANON!

JOHN: blah blah blah TURNED BLURRY blah blah blah blah CLOWNS ON TOP OF THE WHITE HOUSE blah blah blah blah VAMPIRE HISSED AT ME blah blah blah blah LITERALLY INSIDE CON AIR blah blah blah GLITCHY BULLSHIT blah blah blah MET MYSELF blah blah blah blah FINALLY FOUND YOU HIDING IN THIS LITTLE GREEN PYRAMID! WHEW!

ROXY: omg

JOHN: so that's...

JOHN: pretty much the whole story?

JOHN: i left a bunch of stuff out though.

JOHN: if more important stuff that i forgot occurs to me, i will let you know.

ROXY: hey no thats fine

ROXY: that was all great and exciting as heck

ROXY: it sounds like you guys got up to a lot more crazy shit than we did

ROXY: for us its been mostly dicking around in a session full of spooky skeletons for half a year

ROXY: then fefeta died

ROXY: the end

JOHN: fefeta?

ROXY: fefeta was a dear sweet precious dear DEAR friend of mine

ROXY: she was beautiful and sweet and lovely

ROXY: she sploded

JOHN: wow.

JOHN: i'm sorry.

ROXY: oh we also became tricksters which as far as things that happen go was sooo dumb

ROXY: i guess thats kinda the epilogue of our story?

ROXY: oh yeah then we had hangovers and went god tier accidentally

ROXY: thats the double epilogue

ROXY: the end ex two combo

JOHN: i don't know, that all sounds pretty interesting to me.

JOHN: sometimes in life, when you look back on things it can feel like it was all boring and uneventful.

JOHN: but when you really think about it, you remember all these cool things that happened you forgot about.

ROXY: hm yeah

ROXY: them wise words j sock

JOHN: anyway, if you remember more about your adventure and want to tell me some time, i would love to hear it!

ROXY: haha ok

ROXY: um but hey

ROXY: i could not help but notice in ur story you was talkin about my mom sometimes

JOHN: your mom?

JOHN: well, yeah. but i know her as your daughter.

JOHN: but i mean, who the hell knows at this point?

ROXY: i know rite

ROXY: the curious case of the mutual moms

ROXY: it is

ROXY: the biggest mystery?

ROXY: u no

ROXY: once i even caught wind of some lore that implied i might even be my OWN mom

ROXY: (fefeta hinted that @ me once during a long spiel DAMN that girl could talk)

ROXY: how messed up would that be tho

JOHN: there is probably something to that actually.

JOHN: you were all the first batch of babies, after all.

JOHN: i think you were literal copies of yourselves?

JOHN: that's what it supposedly means to be a paradox clone.

ROXY: babies

ROXY: wat

JOHN: oh.

JOHN: i guess i kind of glossed over this stuff in my story.

JOHN: but i was the one who made us all in the first place, with a weird cloning machine.

ROXY: no fuckin shit???

ROXY: *is impressed*

JOHN: it was no big deal though. i was just messing around with a control panel, and some babies appeared.

ROXY: so we already met huh

ROXY: and i dont even remember because i was just some idiot bb

ROXY: that aint fair!

JOHN: come to think of it, we met one other time too.

JOHN: but you were asleep.

ROXY: ??

JOHN: you were floating around in purple pajamas, and i pushed you out of the way of a flying fork.

JOHN: i almost forgot about that. but yep, that was you alright.

ROXY: you shoulda woke me up then

JOHN: i might have, but the fork stabbed me in the chest, and dream killed my sleep ghost. or something.

JOHN: you know how it is with dream logic.

ROXY: u mean how it makes lil 2 no sense ever

JOHN: yes, exactly.

JOHN: i guess i didn't think much about it at the time, but i had a sneaky suspicion that's who you were.

JOHN: you really look a lot like rose.

JOHN: she is looking for you, by the way.

ROXY: yeah?????

JOHN: she told me to go find you. and i did.

JOHN: so, she says hi.

ROXY: o man

ROXY: what else did she say

JOHN: uh.

JOHN: she said...

JOHN: she's looking forward to meeting you?

ROXY: awwwwww

ROXY: well if u see her again before i do tell her i cant wait to meet her too

ROXY: though tbh im kinda nervous about it but dont tell her that part haha

JOHN: sure!

JOHN: there's nothing to be nervous about though.

JOHN: she's just a nice nerd who likes to read and knit.

ROXY: i shouldnt be surprised to hear that

ROXY: me and all my friends are a bunch of silly nerds too

ROXY: even dirk who thinks hes 2 cool 4 school

ROXY: when in reality he is nowhere close to clearing the coolness threshold which exempts one from attending an educational institution :p

JOHN: speaking of which...

JOHN: i've been wondering where he is?

JOHN: i know jade's grandpa is in jail too, getting badgered by my evil nanna...

ROXY: u mean jake n jane

JOHN: yes, sorry.

JOHN: but i have not seen hide nor hair of dave's bro yet.

ROXY: i figured he got thrown in jail too

ROXY: although come to think of it i probly would have heard a bloody ruckus by now resulting from his inevitable escape attempt

JOHN: hmm.

ROXY: im not that worried about him though hes good at takin care of himself

ROXY: in fact i feel like all of us will be ok now that you guys are here

ROXY: but

ROXY: there is still one of my friends im worried about the most

JOHN: who?

ROXY: shes my best friend

ROXY: well ok

ROXY: i got a few best friends u know?

JOHN: yes.

ROXY: but she was always kind of a special best friend

ROXY: and last time i saw her she was in big trouble

JOHN: oh no.

JOHN: where is she?

ROXY: in the afterlife

ROXY: being dead

JOHN: ...

ROXY: her bro killed her

ROXY: which is bad enough

ROXY: but now hes out there

ROXY: hunting for her ghost

ROXY: shes doing her best to hide

ROXY: but her bro is an awful and relentless piece of shit and im afraid

ROXY: im afraid she might be already gone :(

JOHN: you're right, that is very concerning.

JOHN: who is she? would i know of her?

ROXY: dunno

ROXY: how in the loop are you on cherubs?

JOHN: oh!

JOHN: surprisingly, i know a LOT about that subject.

JOHN: for instance, did you know they turn into gigantic snakes when they have sex?

ROXY: :O

ROXY: :O

ROXY: :O

JOHN: i know. weird, right?

JOHN: that's probably not very relevant to the topic at hand, though.

ROXY: yeah prob not

ROXY: anyway u know about lord english right

JOHN: uh huh.

ROXY: ok well

ROXY: shes his sister

ROXY: her name is calliope

JOHN: ohhh.

JOHN: ok, this is starting to make sense.

ROXY: yep

ROXY: shes supposed to be critical to defeatin him somehow

ROXY: shes going on some quest out there to find a deadlier version of herself or whatever

ROXY: i dunno that could be all be true...

ROXY: and maybe its selfish of me but all i rly care about now is if shes ok??

JOHN: i understand. she is your friend.

JOHN: i would feel the same way.

ROXY: :)

JOHN: wait a minute...

JOHN: i've got it!

ROXY: got what

JOHN: i have such a good idea that would solve your problem.

ROXY: ????

JOHN: all you have to do is bring her back to life!

ROXY: how

JOHN: easy.

JOHN: i have a magic ring!

ROXY: what

ROXY: u have one too

JOHN: yes!

JOHN: wait. what do you mean too?

JOHN: you have a magic ring??

ROXY: i HAD one

ROXY: fuckin lost it though

ROXY: made peeps invisible who put it on

JOHN: ah.

JOHN: no, mine doesn't do that.

JOHN: it brings ghosts back to life!

ROXY: FUCK

ROXY: no wai

JOHN: yes wai. way.

JOHN: it's back at my house.

JOHN: i could go get it right now!

ROXY: damn son

ROXY: i find this 2 be some truly baller happenstance

ROXY: if ur claim is true im.......

ROXY: im cry :')

JOHN: it is quite true.

JOHN: it should be a piece of cake.

JOHN: you just wear it when you go to sleep, and it comes with you in your dreams.

JOHN: then you find your cherub friend, put it on her finger, and bring her back!

JOHN: i think you can only use it once though. so once she's wearing it, it would be hers forever, or at least as long as she wants it.

ROXY: yo

ROXY: yooooo

ROXY: john thats amazing

ROXY: i dunno though that sounds like

ROXY: such an obscenely precious commodity

ROXY: u sure you want to let me use it?

JOHN: sure.

JOHN: it's no big deal, really.

JOHN: for a while i was hanging on to it, thinking that i might give it to...

JOHN: aw man, this is going to sound dumb.

ROXY: hm?

JOHN: there was a girl who i was considering giving it to, for some reason.

JOHN: remember? she was the diabolical one who figured prominently in my long story.

ROXY: um

ROXY: oh yea

ROXY: fresca right

JOHN: yes, close enough.

JOHN: see, she REALLY wanted that ring.

JOHN: and she found out i had it, and...

JOHN: honestly, i'm not sure why it even crossed my mind to give it to her?

JOHN: i guess i was just used to the idea that i liked her for some reason.

JOHN: at least i thought i did.

JOHN: it was a stupid idea based on hardly anything. like one day of conversations.

JOHN: but since i've gotten to know her better...

JOHN: i don't know.

JOHN: i think i might actually...

JOHN: kind of hate her?

ROXY: yeah?

JOHN: yeah, she's...

JOHN: actually pretty awful!

JOHN: she's so full of herself, and mean to her friends, and...

JOHN: dangerous.

JOHN: really, really dangerous.

ROXY: ouch

ROXY: well what can i say john

ROXY: love sux

JOHN: yeah. it does.

JOHN: anyway, i don't think i can let anyone like that have the ring.

ROXY: but u dont mind trustin me w it?

JOHN: no!

JOHN: it's funny, after spending some time with a person who is legitimately crazy, it becomes easy to tell right away when someone...

JOHN: isn't?

ROXY: lol

ROXY: u sure about that

JOHN: well, yeah, everyone is a little crazy. i just mean not BAD crazy.

JOHN: besides, you don't even want the ring for yourself.

JOHN: you want to give it to someone you care about.

JOHN: that is what makes you one of the good guys.

ROXY: what a nice thing to say

ROXY: i bet sayin stuff like that is why ur their leader

JOHN: what makes you think i'm the leader?

ROXY: come on dude you are obvs the leader of otherkid teamsquad

ROXY: i can just tell

JOHN: haha, ok. i'll take that as a compliment.

JOHN: anyway, i'll go get the ring now.

ROXY: yay!

ROXY: ill wait here

ROXY: no need to set off the alarms with a daring escape just yet

ROXY: lets keep em lulled into a false sense of control over the sitch

ROXY: we can start scheming under their nose while u keep sneakin around undetected

ROXY: the last thing we want is for all hell to break loose before we know what were doin

JOHN: yeah, that's a good plan.

JOHN: if i had to guess, i'd say you must be the leader of your team squad too, right?

ROXY: naaaw

ROXY: that's jane

ROXY: as you can see shes the one with a knack for ruthless executive authority

ROXY: is a shame she only uses it when evil tho :(

JOHN: yeah.

JOHN: but maybe we can do something about that, if we work together.

ROXY: :D

JOHN: alright. off i go.

JOHN: keep practicing your powers!

JOHN: see you, roxy.

[1989nihil]

Aight, but before I do, let me tell you that I woke up at around 10:30 am yesterday, and it's currently 3:02am as of me writing this.

So, I woke up at aforementioned time because I had my first appointment for phyiscal therapy, for an issue I have been having for quite a while now. I had initially planned to take the train, but there was a public service strike going on in Frankfurt, and the train going through my town is operated by the public service authority of Frankfurt. So no train, I take the bus instead, which narually takes a bit longer than the train to make its way trough my town.

Please also note, that my town is sorta plasted on to the foot of a mid-range mountain range, and I live at an elevation higher than where the gym is located. So when I say the gym is in down-town, it quite literally is in down town... (more under the cut)

So I go to my appointment, work with my assigned therapist for about half-an hour, feeling every muscle in my legs as I go through the excersises they show me. and as I leave, my therapist reminds me that I shouldn't be suprised when I wake up with aching muckles tomorrow (today). I leave the gym and decide that I've earned myself a little treat. I proceed to go to that new café that has opend in the old town district, instead of my favourite café as I usually would when I am down-town. After having had a nice cup of coffee and cake, I decide - and here comes the dumb decision - that I instead of taking the bus back home, I could just walk back home. Again, I live at a higher elevaton than where the gym and the old town district is at. Now... I could have chosen to just walk along the mainstreet, which has a much gentler incline. But - and here comes the even dumber descion - I decide to take the route paralell to the mainstreet, which goes up a hill with a much much sharper incline than the mainstreet. But from which, once you've reached the top, you ahve a view like this

that's the skyline of Frankfur in the distance

At this point I am cussing myself out, and decide to wait at the bus top at the top of the hill, for a bus that may not be the line I need to get home, but which crosses the one that does. I check the scheduel and see I'd be waiting some twentey minutes. Which is more than enough time to make my way down the hill on the other side, and wait for it at the stop at the foot of the hill. And then I realise, the point where both lines cross isn't actually that far, so I might as well walk to the stop for the line that I need.

Once I've reached the stop, by crossing the main-street, I check the schedule and realise that I've missed my bus by a whole ten minutes, and that I'd have to wait twenty minutes for the next bus. I sigh, I sit down and well, shrug, open my jacket a littl because I am a bit sweaty, taking a sip from my water bottle. Here's another thing to note: It was rather windy today, and the bus-stop at hwich I was sitting was rather exposed. So I pull up the zipper of my jacket again, because I don't wanna be sick with the sudden difference in temperature. But the wind keeps blowing, gets stronger even for a moment and I decide to walk up to the next stop which is less exposed to the wind... except I don't do that but take a short-cut instead which takes me closer to home than if I had walked to the next stop. So I decide, might as well add to the already huge pile of dumbass descions, and walk the rest of the way home as well...

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Before I started work I mixed two scoops of pre-workout into a Bang energy drink and that was five hours of teaching gymnastics class, two hours of personal parkour workout, and an hour and a half swing dance class ago and like

I’m taking a. Hot bath with some wine and motzart to decelerate out of orbit WHAT

[bahbzxxx]

~Imagine~

One day, Venti's just...he's not really feeling it. When you find him, he's not even in his human form! He's his lil sprite self. He's adorable...but it would be much cuter if he weren't just laying on the ground with his eyes glazed over.

It takes every inch of restraint you have in your body to not speak to him as if he is a helpless little puppy. You ask him what's wrong, but he just gives you a long winded sigh, blowing his floppy little blue leaf out of his squishy lil face. You huff lightly in return, petting his cheek with your thumb gently. Because he clearly isn't going to give you an answer, you decide that you are just going to have to pamper him until he feels a little better. (Without treating him too much like a baby.)

You begin by breaking out the dandelion wine. There's absolutely no way that you would allow him to down a whole bottle at the moment, so you pour some into the smallest cup you can find. Setting it down next to him, you notice that he's oblivious to it. With a look of pity, you dip your finger into the cup and hold it right in front of his face, even dabbling a little bit where his mouth should be. Though he doesn't exactly perk up, he slowly begins to prop himself up. You can't help but smile sadly as you gently place your hand behind his little body, holding him up so he can lap up his precious wine. When he's finished, he just looks up at you, slightly eyeing the bottle.

You cock your head at the little sprite. "Venti, I can't just give you this whole thing! Not right now at least." You giggle softly, giving him a reassuring smile.

He plops himself down and sighs once more, even heavier than before.

Maybe he was just upset because he was hungry? Besides, there was no way you were just going to let him down an entire bottle of wine on an empty stomach. You find an apple, cut it up into the cutest little pieces that you can, and then put them into the cup.

"Venti, I just cut up a nice apple for you! I made it super easy to eat too, since your mouth is kind of...um. teensy." You already have a feeling he's not going to budge, so you prop him up and begin to handfeed him. As you hold a small piece in front of him, he just stares up at you. He's so pathetic and cute right now, you can't stand it.

"Come on, a few pieces won't hurt. In fact, I'm sure you'll feel much better!" As gently as possible, you lean down and plant a little kiss on the little sprite's head. Hes blushing and wide-eyed when you pull away, so that seemed to work at least.

"Pretty please? For me?" You ask, batting your eyelashes at the flustered little venven. He immediately begins to nibble.

He actually eats more than you thought he would, which you find amazing! You make sure to tell him how proud you are of him as you put your hands down, prompting him to nestle in. You know he's not as upset as before, but he still seems a little down. You begin to think about things just a little more~ he's an archon, and he's seen some things. He doesn't have too kind of a past, and you know he's not just some one dimensional happy go lucky bard who only cares about getting himself plastered. If anything, that's just some awful coping mechanism of his.

Maybe... its not because of anything in particular either. Maybe he's just having a rough day, and all he needs is someone to be sad with? He may be an archon, but that doesn't deny him the right to human feelings. That's probably it, isn't it? You bring Venti closer to your face.

"Venti, is it just...one of those days? Hm?" You ask, stroking his back softly with your thumb, even tracing his little wings. There's no reply; he just ups and flies himself over to the crook of your neck. He burrows himself in, tickling you slightly. You laugh softly and squeeze his sides.

"Dont worry, I understand. But dont forget how much I love you, okay?" You kiss his cheek, earning you a little windy kiss on your cheek as well before he shoves his face back into you. You squeeze his cheeks to let him know that he didn't get away with that one~

The two of you spend the rest of the day lazing about your Mondstadt apartment, practically only reading a few pages of a few books and then sleeping for another few hours. At every moment, Venti is snuggled in your arms as you have your cheek pressed to his, occasionally waking up every so often to give him little kisses or nose nuzzles~ he seems to like those from you. Even if today wasn't such a lovely day for him, Venti has you who will make him feel loved, appreciated, and safe everyday, no matter what form he takes. <3

[spikesbimbo]

Drunk in Love

Summary:  Getting drunk and confessing your love for your “boy” friend and fucking him was most definitely not what you expected to go down on the usual night.

Pairing: Issei Matusukawa x Reader

Tags: Timeskip!Tattoed Mattsun, softdom!issei Hurt/comfort, friends to lovers, smut, fluff, virgin!reader, Unptrotected sex, non-penetrative sex, fingering, oral, pussy/thigh job, clit slapping, sweet dirty talk, praise, drunk sex

Word count: 7.2k

A/N: I heard pussy job and I wrote a whole ass novel

18+ Minors DNI

You run your finger over the condensation of your empty drink, drawing shapes (or what you thought to be shapes, you couldn’t tell at this point) waiting for your dear friend, Makki to bring you a refill of your cocktail.  

“Here ya go.” Makki said as he returned with your beloved Malibu Sunset. The smooth coconut rum bringing you back to your first and favorite drink that you ever got drunk on in high school. You smiling at the memory

“Thanks.” you say. Your reply being mumbled by the liquid already in your mouth.

This all started with Iwaizumi calling Mattsun up, you and Makki hearing “You wanna get wasted?” on the other side of the phone. And with pleasure, you two were already packing your stuff up, shoving yalls “pregame” bottles back in the bag. The three of you made your happy way there climbing through the fence of the abandoned skate park you were in. Needles to say it was abandoned for a reason, but what’s life without a little danger.

You three and the rest of the third years have been friends since high school, meeting in freshman year, and now including Oikawa’s girlfriend. You actually didn’t like Oikawa at first, his “pretty boy” demeanor making you internally cringe. But his personality grew quickly on you, being the perfect target to tease you and Iwa clowning him over everything.

Now back to you on your nth drink, complaining about your previous job that fired you because u got injured, even though you know you wouldn’t have lasted long there anyways because you weren’t that academically inclined. Bright? Whatever you wanted to call it.

And as-usual it wasn’t long before your crybaby ass immediately called Makki and Issei and “tried” your best to tell them what happed with your dramatic self-induced tears running down you race, while Makki urged to you to try to calm down and Issei straight up laughing at the state your were in, snot running out of your nose. You recoiling at the thought, hoping they forgot. (Spoiler, they didn’t)

But now you nanny for a rich couple and you get payed good to play with cute babies all day, sounds good to you! Luckily, you had the week off due to them going on a vacation, you think it was France, no, the south of France. Must be nice.

Cue to now, Mattsun chuckling and leaning on you and Iwaizumi; both of you, especially Iwa, being visibly done with his shit. Him reminding you about the times you bought him some random shit, which you went out of your way for since he always payed for you, like that chopper keychain because you said it reminder you of him.

He didn’t know what compelled you to say his 6’2, tattooed built self looked like a tiny reindeer but okay. It still meant a lot to him, hooking it onto his motorcycle keys. But you knew he appreciated it, despite his appearance he’s a softie.

“You wanna try this’” He says gaining his composure offering you one of the shots he got.

You took one of the mini glasses, not being the type to back down and promptly swung the drink to the back of your mouth, quickly coughing before it even reached your throat.

“This shit is fucking gross.” You coughed out bringing the glass down from your lips.

  “Imagine being sober. Can’t relate.” He said taking another shot.

  “I guess I should do that but ive passed the point of giving a fuck” You said sending yall into a giggling fit while somehow Makki was thrown in to support yall from falling over. You two carry on laughing ignoring everyone’s stares at you thinking about how much yall fit perfectly together.  

   Makki rearranges himself to sit back in his chair, far away, from the both of you, whispering “Damn. I’m really third wheeling.” under his breath. Getting a snicker out of Oikawa sitting next to him.

   “When your best friends are ignoring you. Sad times.” He continues bringing his bottle to his mouth getting no response.

  Issei chuckles and gets up shoving his hands in his pocket reaching for the cigarettes. Pulling them out while failing to find his lighter

  “Fuck.” He muttered

  “Any’all got a light?”

  No one responds so you sacrifice yourself “Yeah” you say reaching into your pocket grabbing out your prized possession of a hot pink, bedazzled lighter that you did yourself, reaching out to hand it to him.

  “Don’t lose it” you stated seriously trying not to break a smile.

  “K’ sweet cheeks.” He said smirking into the butt between his lips as he walked away. Your face now burning up, hoping that everyone would think it was because of the alcohol.

  You mind wanders, thinking about the “dates” you two go on, from watching shows you “forcing” him to watch some romantic anime, to going to the skatepark, to playing video games with the rest of the 3rd years (which you don’t really like but you’ll play for him) and him surprising you with takeout, you bringing out candles trying your best to make it cute with him telling u everything you everything about his day.

  And you always tried to remain calm, even though sometimes he deserved to get his ass beat, like that one time he broke one of your favorite pair of heels. It honestly hurt him even more, he wanted you to get mad at him but no, you just acted like nothing happened. Making the guilt rise in him. Let’s just say didn’t have to lift a finger for the next few weeks.

You basically babied him, taking care of all his “chores”, mainly making him food when you were at his place knowing he hated doing it. Makki teasing you for acting like his housewife, leading to you slapping the shit outta him while trying to cover your now red cheeks.

You’ve never been so grateful for your attire at the moment, blessing yourself for not wearing your usual outfits of short skirts and cute tops, defending yourself saying what housewife dresses in beat up vans and baggy clothes. You definitely not imaging yourself in that position for the rest of the day.

 You expressed that you just liked to take care of people, which was true. You always looked out for them, bringing an extra umbrella, to bringing cookies you made at 2 in the morning to school, always carrying band-aids (yes, the paw patrol ones you took from the kids you babysit).

You checked the time on your phone seeing it was late since the sun at last went down, your lock screen being your dogs to their complaint since they have a group photos of you all from high school as theirs. To which you replied “They’re my babies” getting a groan and huff out of them.

  Seeing the notifications of your group chat you grinned at the contact name you and Issei gave each other; yall jokingly call each other pet names, his contact being honeybun and yours being pumpkin, even including Makki in your contacts as pudding bc then it wasn’t weird, right? no.

  “What’re you smiling at y/n?” Oikawa cheekily asks teasing you. You turn to him giving him a dirty look, not having enough energy to deal him right now.

  “Don’t listen to his bullshit.” Oikawa’s girlfriend says. You’re thankful for her. She was always on your side, being the only other girl in your friend group. To be honest you just wanted her and you to hang out most of the time, but of course to your disapproval her boyfriend and his friends had to join in.

  “Fuck this. Fuck you. I’m sleeping.” You say getting up to her objection, the only thing on your mind wanting to retire for the night.

  “You sure you’ll be fine? Let us at least walk you home.” She said already grabbing her boyfriend’s arm.

  “Nah, im good. I live right down the road.” You try to say not slurring. The last thing you want is him teasing you even more, especially in this state, knowing you, you’d probably start crying at the slightest irritation when youre this drunk.

    You started to “walk” towards your house resting  your hand against the brick walls to not lose your balance, leading you to run into Issei. You stopped to watch him lean against the alley holding a cigarette between his index and middle finger.

  “I’m hiding like a bitch” He says noticing you, resting his weight against the wall.

 “Wanna be a bitch with me? He grinned  blowing out the smoke out with his words.

You didn’t reply, just walking over to him, just being around him made you feel warm.

"Fuck its windy.” He says trying to light a new cig.

“C’you make me a house?” He asks.

You go up and put your hands around his cigarette, this not being your first time. Your hands wrap a little tighter to prevent the wind from burning out his flame. He joins you with his free hand helping, finally getting his cig to light.

 “Thanks doll” He smirks.

“No problem princess.” You reply earning a laugh out of him.

He takes his first hit with his and your hands still wrapped around it. He gets an up-close look at your hands, noticing how tiny they were, seeing all the scars that he never noticed, making a mental note to ask you how you got them later.

His head gets close to yours for the first time in a while due to his height. You glance at his face, noticing his features seeing some stubble growing on his face.

“You ain’t shave?” You ask, never seeing it in the past, while he was moving back up, blowing the smoke away from you.

“What, you don’t like my majestic beard? “He jokes. Making you giggle almost losing your balance before catching yourself on the wall.

  “s’too much work.” He starts. “You wanna shave it for me?” he says slightly leaning towards you. Handing you back your lighter knowing you didn’t need him to carry it because your pants actually had pockets in them for once.

You let out a soft laugh not responding again. He catches on, you got quiet when you were tired and he made out that you were walking towards your house.

“You going home?” he asks already knowing the answer.

“Yeah.” You respond more than happy to have him walk you back, him already moving to walk next to you.

He walks you home, you two talking about random shit, both of you forgetting about your skateboards leaving Makki to deal with them. And even though you’re drunk as fuck you’re still in the right state of mind, carrying a normal conversation with him. But just because you’ve built a tolerance doesn’t mean you can do basic tasks, like walk correctly.

When he reaches your house, he types in the keycode, your first dogs birthday, being glad that you, him and Makki have each other’s memorized.

He leads you into you house setting you on the couch, petting your dogs that ran up to him.

“Mommy’s not feeling too good” He said giving them the affection they deserved.

“Yes I am.” You slurred getting them attention on you now.

He walked over to your counter putting on the playlist that you two made together on shuffle, High fashion being the first to play. You didn’t like when it was quiet because too many thoughts would run though your head. You were in no way sad, singing the lyrics while you were laughing barely being able to hold yourself up as proof.

Remembering you were tired, he takes you off the couch and borderline carries you to your room, , setting you on your plush blankets that you had so many of because it was warm and comfy.

 “Easy, there. Try to sit up.”He said, trying to ask you what draws your pj’s were in because he didn’t want to snoop around; neither of you being bothered that you were half naked, what’s the difference between panties and a bikini, he thought remembering the times you’ve been to the beach together.  

Well it was maybe the fact that you were clinging onto him because u stumbled into him and he was closest stable thing around and you wouldn’t let go because it was cold and you couldn’t stop shaking.

 He ignores his thoughts and grabs the shirt he got out figuring you don’t need to change your bra because you told him and Makki that it was normal to keep it on for a few days after they were in awe as you were explaining how expensive they were. You calling Oikawa’s girlfriend to prove your point as she immediately agreed with you…Sometimes you might have got a little too comfortable with them.

You hear the song in the background change to Love Songs, you humming along, “Hope you smile when you listen.”

You were still holding on to him, your boobs squeezing against him, him only being able to put a t-shirt on you, while you looked up at him with your red glossy eyes making him burn up.  

You fidget timidly with your face now in his chest while gripping his sweater. Trying to build up the little courage you had. He tilts your head up making you look at him, wondering what you were thinking about.

  You try to express yourself, but you can’t get the words out him having no idea what is going on in your head at the moment.

“It’s okay to be nervous sometimes. Tell me” He gently says reading your body language. He was intuitive, so there was no way you could hide your feelings from him.

But you knew you could trust him, him having full self-control, always staying collected and following through on what he said he’d do.  He went out of his way to avoid any friction coming between you two, him never raising his voice or starting an argument.

“We need to talk.” You started. “About something important.”

“Ok…What is it?” He questioned rubbing his hands on your back. You were so nervous, were you really about to say this? Confess your feelings that you’ve pushed to the back of your heart for so long?

“I… I l… I love your face. And the stuff in it. and around it.” You spoke, being surprised you did it stutter.

He stood there, hands stopped moving trying to process what you just said.

“Just you, in general…”  You finally confess trying to state three things at once barely getting your words out.

But he understood exactly what you meant, or maybe he was warping what you said to fit what he wanted.

  "I don’t even know when I started liking you, but this shit won't go away." You restated

  Nope. He clearly just heard you say that.

  He doesn’t understand what’s so different about today. Yall have been in this scenario multiple times taking care of each other, sometimes including another into the mix.  

You didn’t understand either. You just felt like the time was right, even though you know it wasn’t the best idea to confess while you were drunk off your ass.

But you couldn’t help it, your feelings overflowing, which you never until this day let get the best of you, being vulnerable and trusting is not your usual . Youve never even had a crush on anyone, him being to only in your whole life to make you blush.

  Who you been vibin' wit and why I can't make you mine?

  You should have seen the signs that you feel for him when he helped that lady that lives down the street from him set up her Christmas lights or when he first met your dog that wasn’t fond of men, but it instantly liked him. And you loved his selflessness it was something you admired and applauded.

  “y/n” He tries talking you down, making sure you weren’t just saying this because of alcohol, deep down knowing he felt the same, you always being in the back of his mind.

You were generous with your time too, always being there for him. You knew he was softer than he appeared, he was tender, sensitive and vulnerable. He tried his hardest to not get into situations where anyone would get hurt, like breakups, arguments, and so on.

Which is why he won’t make the first move. He pushes his feelings to the back of his head. He values your friendship more than anything, but he can see what develops. If love is meant to be, it will happen.

I told you I am down for the worse or the better. But I keep sticking to you cause them four stupid letters

    “You make me so happy. And I’ll always care about you. Okay? He says breaking the silence, trying to reassure you.  

  “You mean so much to me—something I can’t even put into words because nothing can compare- I’ve wanted you since that day you tripped and bust your ass in the school hallway I still want you even though you drive me insane.”

  “Iss-“ You tried to get out only to have him continue talking over you.

  "I love that you can’t leave the house without a jacket. I love the wrinkles that appear on your forehead after you call me crazy. I love that it takes you hours to get ready. I love that you always know how to make me feel better. I love that even when you don’t agree with my decisions you always trust me to make them.  I love that when I spend a day with you, I can still smell you on my clothes; and I love that you are the last person I think of  before I go to sleep at night."

  You stood there awestruck for what feels like eternity until you mustered the bravery to speak “I didn’t expect you to feel the same way-” You said, being dumbfounded because from what you’ve seen treats everyone “nice”, were you really getting special treatment?

  He tilts your chin up, locking his dark eyes with yours. “Baby I don’t know if your notice but you and Makki are my only people that aren’t my family that call me my first name.”

He has a point. You think pushing yourself more into him, trying to fuse your bodies together to hide, not relaxing what you were doing to him. He tries to nudge your legs to the side but you won’t let go still clinging onto him.

“fuck” He groans. You pulling back wondering why until you looked down and noticed. A smirk appeared on your face as you reattached your self to him like velcro. You were feeling bold, the liquid courage still in your system driving you to slide your fingers down his chest, looking him in the eyes before stopping at his waistband.  

He knows what you’re doing, him being in this position multiple times. Does he really want to ruin your friendship like this? He hasn’t even asked you to be his girlfriend. He tries to push you off him already knowing you were gonna complain. But what he didn’t expect was for you to whimper out his name in that pretty voice of yours.

 He tried to keep his calm, blood already rushing down. “You know what you’re doing”

“yeah” You start.

“y’don’t want me?” Giving him your pouty face that you know he’s weak for, hoping that’ll work, insecurity piling up. Was it because your boobs weren’t that big or that fact that you were dressed like man? Was he not attracted to you right now, only liking you when you were dolled up?

“Fuck” You think. You should have worn something cute instead of dressing like a whole ass man even with your makeup fully done. Its not like you were supposed to know you were gonna get fucked today.

His were burning holes into you now, thinking of how to say “No, I would be more that happy to fuck you!” to his best friend, soon regaining his consciousness finally speaking.

“Fuck no doll, ive wanted you for a minute. You know me better than I know myself. How did you not notice my feelings?”

 You got me singing love songs, love songs, love songs

“You’re really hard to read” You replied trying to maintain your seductive act, resting your hands back on his chest.

“So are you.” He said lowering his head, you still looking up at him, taking in your gleaming eyes.

Sex ain't the only thing that's on my mind But you get me so excited, whoa

Your heart was beating so wildly that you could only take little sips of breath. His hands running down your waist stopping at your hips.

“Can I kiss you?" He asks "...yeah” you attempted to say as confidently as you could, nodding your head along with it.

His face bent down, hot mouth breathing over you. His lips slowly moved, brushing over yours, the liquor on his lips that you hated; only choosing fruity drinks even though you got relentlessly teased you for it.  You pushed further into the kiss desperately wanting more. Your teeth clicking his from being impatient, wanting to suck him in. Your hands sliding under his shirt subconscious desires reaching out.

Irreplaceable Tattoos from your neck that drop down to your ankles

“You’re drunk…” he says snapping you out of your trance.

“So are you.”

He dove in for another kiss much more passionate than the previous one, arguably needy, pusing you on the bed to which you more than happily comply. He tugs back not letting his mind get the best of him, disconnecting your spit trial leaving you panting. “You sure this alright?” He says deep down hoping you still say yes.

  You pull him back for your answer, your grabby little hands working their way back up his shirt. He gets the hint and pauses your lips rendezvous, taking off the turtleneck that he looked oh so good in, before seeing his unclothed body.  You’re admiring his body in a new way, before just complimenting him whenever he got a new tattoo, now up under him tracing them like a lovestruck teenager.

“When did you get this one?” You quietly ask, his ears closer to you than they’ve ever been.

“I got it that day you faked sick”

“What! You said were gonna take me!” You sulked, turning your head away from his as much as you could, crossing your arms.

He let out a slight laugh before gently taking your face in his hands, guiding you back into the kiss.

This is not really what he imagined for your first time. He’s an old-fashioned romantic who likes to take one step at a time. But then again nothing was ever normal with you. That said, when he falls in love, he falls deep.

“You’ve done this before?” You uttered.

“Hmm?” He mumbles, unmoving his lips from you kissing you, moving towards your neck.

“You still with that other girl?”

“No. I broke it off her, everything that came out of her mouth was bullshit, and no she wasn’t my girlfriend.”

“You didn’t trust her? You added. Trying to distract him until you could think of a way you could say “hey in my 21 years of life I’ve never got passed kissing a guy.”

“Our relationship was purely built on lies, I’d second guess everything she said. He replied, wondering if you were interrogating him.

“Why’d you wanna know?” He asked bringing his face up from your skin.

“…No one’s ever touched me like this, fuck.” You bashfully admitted, thoughts racing through your head that he didn’t want you anymore because you weren’t experienced.

But he knew what was running through that pretty head of yours, his fingers reaching out to with your hair trying to comfort you.

“You’re a virgin?” He curiously asked dragging his hand to your cheek, you leaning into it.

“y-yeah” you muttered trying to move your eyes away from his looking down at his body.

“I thought you had a boyfriend before” he said, softly turning your jaw to make you look at him. Your eyes diverted from his arms back to his eyes.

“We weren’t actually dating” You quickly say trying to clear up the misunderstanding. “He was my friend and seatmate that pretended to be my fake boyfriend to get me out of some trouble” you spewed out “and I guess I forgot to tell everyone that it was fake.”

“Even if we were that doesn’t mean we fucked.” You sheepishly replied.

“So… what trouble did your fake boyfriend get you out of.” He questioned knowing how much trouble it must have been for you, miss independent, to go to such lengths.

“Umm, well…this guy wouldn’t stop flirting with me even after I told him I don’t like him, even following me to my other classes.”

He wasn’t surprised, you were definitely a sight for sore eyes, in fact the prettiest thing he’s laid his eyes on, your beaming eyes, your dimple when you smiled, your pretty face, your “ugly” laugh, he could go on for days.

“Why are we talking about this” You whined, reaching your hand back out to him.

He took a hint and continued kissing you, bringing you closer to him while you attempted to take you shirt off. His hands helping you seeing as that you were struggling, being lost in his touch, finishing by moving you up more on you bed, pushing your plushies out of the way, to your protested because “they had feelings too.”

He ignored you, bending down to pull your panties off stopping once he saw the slick coming through them.

“Fuck baby you’re wet” He breathed dragging his fingers across your clothed slit earing a whimper from you, leaving his fingers drenched.

 Shawty, you wanna feel good, I wanna feel good too Don't I make you feel good?

“M’always wet.” you responded.

From what? He questions taking off your soaked cotton panties, tossing them to the side.

“From me?” He smirks bringing his hand back towards your heat. You not even comprehending what he just said, just knowing that you’re ashamed of how worked up you were getting.

You were in awe. You’ve always known his hands were big, but in this situation your mind wondered. His fingers were so much bigger than yours knowing you can barely fit two inside your with out it hurting, and not in a good way.

“Do you know how pretty you are? It’s honestly distracting.”. He says kissing down your whole body, stopping at your breasts, licking lazily around and coming back to the nub. The attention on your nipples making you squirm and he finally lets go, you grateful that he stopped or you would have almost cum, how embarrassing.

“I thought you said were gonna get them pierced” He remembered, you going on a whole rant about how cute they were.

“You said u were gnna get em with me” You looked back on, reminding yourself making him promise to get them with you because you were too scared of the pain.

“That was the same day you played sick and I got that tattoo.” He stated lightening the mood, hoping you can calm yourself down before you actually embarrass yourself.

He picks back up and continues kissing all the way down your body, you playing with his hair while biting your lip to muffle your moans and whine until he reaches your entrance.

He parted your legs, your pussy laid out before him, believing you no have reason to be shy about it either. He paused, admiring your swollen cunt and puffy clit, you were beautiful.

The feeling that he didn't want anyone else ever in his position overtook him. He let out a little breath on your clit and you thrashed around. He wasn't going to play. “I’ll take care of you.”

His lips travel over your skin, light and heated before settling himself between your legs, grabbing you by your thighs and dragging you closer. “That tickles.” you giggle, nerves making you kick your legs, almost hitting him in the face before he grabs them. He puts them down locking your legs with his arms, lowering himself until he’s on the ground facing you.

“Does it make you nervous when I stare?” he teases while your covering your face trying to hide the blush he caused.  He puts his mouth on you, quickly gripping your thighs, his hands leaving imprints in your skin dragging you even more into him, deprived kisses taking over your body. 

“yer so pretty” You purred seeing the sight of his big build between your legs, your fingers grabbing onto his curly dark locks, tugging them.

  Issei moans, his voice radiating through your body, forcing out a cry, blessing him with your pretty voice. “I-Issei!” You cry, never feeling like this before, your vibrator and hands doing it no justice.

“Shh, just look at me, doll.”

You can barely make out what he says, so drunk on pleasure. You try your best, doing anything to see the pretty man beneath you. But you get interrupted by your pleasure, your back arching not being able to control your body, grinding down to meet his lips, heat rising in you.

He kisses through your wetness playing with your bud. You choking on your spit, back arching again your body tensing up. “Issei,” You beg, grabbing him knowing what you want but not being able to express it. Luckily he can read you like an open book, knowing what you want, driving you over the edge as he makes you see stars. “Good girl,” he sighs when he feels you let go of his wrist letting him bring you your first orgasm.

“Look at your thighs shaking so much.” He teasingly cooed, wrapping his hands around them, bringing you out of your daze.

Shawty, your body is so exciting

Arching your back into the blankets, letting out a whine “Want your fingers.”.

He lets out a condescending laugh. “You need to learn to be patient. You just came and you’re already so eager for more?”

But by the time he finished your body went limp, you were totally weak, body loose-limbed and pliant. Your mind clouded by lust and deep in your own world. You gasped out a little sob, unable to comprehend anything beyond the discomfort and the need to have it gone. You can’t think straight all you can do is take action, grabbing his arm him easing his fingers into to you.

It’s not too tight, is it?” you ask clenching around his fingers.

 “Just relax… let yourself feel it” He says barely being able to move in you. Fuck so were so tight.

“I love the way you look with my fingers inside you.” He added starting to thrust them inside you, making you let out a string of moans.

“Look how good you take it.”  

“Fuck, you’re so messy.” He groaned feeling the slick running down his hands, before taking them out.

“Issei-i,” You cried when he pulled away, pleasure leaving you, tears coming back.

  He shushes you easily, his fingers wiping your tears. You were so precious to him, your moans music to his ears.  He slows down repositioning his fingers, making you let out a whimper squeezing around them. Your brains so crowded you can’t focus, can’t gather the strength to speak when he thrust them faster inside you.

  Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you fell back, fingers curling inside you, chanting his name over and over, incoherent words coming out of your mouth begging for more. 

You pussy tightens as you cum, unable to breath, letting out gasps and whines. Him still fucking you, fingers not stopping, pushing them in and out relentlessly feeling both pain and pleasure. You lay there, wet in your own cum not giving yourself a break before you went and got what you really wanted, his cock.

His eyes followed the movement of your hands as they pushed down his boxers, revealing the length of his cock, that jutted proudly from his hips. He was so pretty, so virile and handsome. Wondering how lucky you were to be in such a position with him.

You pushed away those thoughts and focused on him, pulling him forward gently, but he followed his encouragement. One of his hands tilted his cock down toward your lips. “Open your mouth for me, baby.”

You parted them instantly, tongue sliding slightly outward, and then you whimpered as the warm weight of his cock slid into your mouth. You let your eyes flutter closed and swirled your tongue around the tip of his cock not knowing exactly what you were doing, but it was working, tasting the salty tang of the precum that wept from his leaking slit. You moved your tongue as the he put his hand into your hair, gripping the strands and pushing deeper into his mouth.

“You look so good on your knees like that. “He says meeting your eyes once again, almost cumming from the picture below him.

“Slowly, baby, I’m not going anywhere.” He says slowing you down by grabbing your hair, making a pace that you follow.

“Yeah, that’s it, baby, just like that.” Seeing that sinful look in your eyes with your redden swollen lips.

You moan feeling yourself drip down your thighs, getting even wetter giving him head. Trying to ease the discomfort by closing your legs, griding them together, trying to find some friction. Your ears hearing “That’s so fucking hot.” watching the scene unfold beneath him.

Your jaw hurts, trying got make him cum faster using your hands and lips together hollowing your cheeks. “Oh fuck, oh, Jesus, fuck yes, there, just like that, fucking Christ" he groans out, his voice sounded beautiful to your ears, knowing he was about to cum.

He finally lets go cumming in your mouth, you swallowing it all, trying not to wince at the taste. “Did I do good” You ask waiting for his reply. Your doll eyes, so red and worn out looking up at him for approval. Fuck he was whipped.

“Yeah…fuck baby”

I love when you get on top and you ride it

You get back under him, his cock resting on you, drenched and clenching around nothing, resting in your cum. You working yourself up against him.

“What makes you think I’m going to fuck you?” He says to your complaint.

“You’re not ready yet.” he mumbles against your whining. Spreading your legs, slapping your clit a few times before letting his cock rest on your folds. Finally getting “seated” he picks up your legs and puts them both on one of his shoulders your thighs warming his cock, your knees touching his cheek not moving, getting a kick out of how desperate your were for him.

“s-stop being mean” You cried reaching out for him to come closer, needing affection after all you’ve been though.

“Aww, poor baby, you want me to take care of it for you? He says leaning into you, reaching your kiss, tasting the remnants of the cum in your mouth.

He plundered your mouth and slowly teased his cock over your entrance, catching it against your clit and making you whimper into the kiss, clearly wanting to be fucked. Your kiss turned you sucking on Issei’s tongue and lips, biting the swollen pout until his lips were red and puffy. He pulled back and looked down at you, a beautiful mess under him.

His fat cock head pushed between your folds. The moan escaping both of your lips was primal. You were turned on beyond imagination and the way he was thrusting forward, spreading his leaking precum on your wet clit was almost too much. He quickly picked up his pace fucking your folds, his warm head brushing against your clit with every movement, but your greedy self wanted more.

The fact that he made you cum so easily made you proud. Just because you’ve never gone this far with someone else doesn’t mean you’ve never cum, you’ve had a lot of practice over the years, being insatiable, the sheets soaked underneath you from your previous orgasms being proof.

“Keep your eyes open, look at me, baby.” He moans getting your attention him.

You tried, you really tried, but the way he was stroking you, imagining what it’d be like to actually sit on his cock, the lewd sounds echoing in the background leaving you unable to focus.

He taps on your cheek eventually getting you look at him, keeping your mind on him by placing his fingers in your mouth you letting him, hazily sucking on them, not being able to close your mouth.

“Oh, baby, you’re drooling everywhere.” He grumbles. Your spit dripping onto his fingers, the friction of your thighs making him feral, moving at an even faster pace. Your body bouncing with every thrust.

“You gonna cum after I cum on your little clit? Come one more time for me, I know you’ve got it in you.” You sob feeling the puddle beneath you, time slowing, fire pooling in your tummy.  Listening to his words you let yourself go. You come with a silent scream as the pleasure ripped through your body, your nails scratching his soft skin. Your vison fading to black feeling him lose his rhythm and moaning a mixture of curse words along with your name, feeling him cum on your tummy before resting his head in your neck while letting your legs go.

“So good for me, look at how much you came.” He says breaking the static. You whining into his shoulder, emotions high, never doing this before.

“I know, baby, I know. I’m right here, just breathe.” He says. You two laying in silence for an unclear amount of time, him rubbing your back while you rest in his chest almost dozing off.

“Are we still…friends?” You croak out trying to hold back your sobs already knowing the answer that you two were defiantly not friends now and never would be just friends again.

“Friends don’t do this type of shit” He maintained grabbing your shoulders to sit you and him up. You were worried, did he only do this with you because he was drunk? You were anxious that you scared him away because you just poured your heart out to him and pushed yourself on him. You left your head down, tears already coming out to your dismay. You moved your hand up to wipe them but he beat you to it.

“Look at me… I love you.” He says holding your cheeks in his palm. You in awe, hoping that you weren’t imagining it, that this was real life.

“R-really” You question making him worry too, preferring to forgive and forget rather than letting this a divide between the two of you in case you went back on your feelings. You were so overwhelmed, never feeling love until this moment, so happy that the person you longed for liked you back. Yours tears running once again.

 “Shh, shh, it’s alright...Don’t cry.”

You don’t even know why you were crying, the hangover already getting to you making you get a headache. You groaning in his arms complaining that your head and throat hurt.

“Ill be back” he says detaching himself from you, letting you know he was coming right back.

He walks to your fridge opening it to see every drink but water, having too dig through all of them, especially the absurd amount of apple juice guessing it was your “once a year craving for it”. He finally got you some cold water, putting It in a cup and waked back to your room.

  “Issei” you whined not picking your head up from the pillow.

  “Shh baby im right here.”

  He sat down beside you on your bed lifting your head up. “Here drink this” he reassured, to which you ignored not wanting anything to go in your mouth, just wanting the day, or night as it was now, to end.

  “It’s just water, honey, look.” You sat yourself up with his help seeing him in just his boxers, you remembering your still naked, not caring enough to cover yourself. He held to glass to your mouth, babying you, tilting it far back enough to where you could drink it. The water hit the back of your mouth feeling like a shot making you cough.

“I know, it hurts. I’m sorry but we have to” He stated. You continued to drink it, feeling the stinging in the back of your throat, him comforting you, calling you “good girl” which was unsurprisingly working.

  He put the cup on your dresser when you finished, climbing back into bed with you leaning your body into his. “Have you ever thought about...us? Y’know, as an...item?” he said causing you to look at him with wide eyes.

 “Call me selfish, but I don’t ever want anyone else to touch you.” He insisted making you cheeks flush. You try to think of a way to respond, not wanting to keep him waiting.

“You’re the best thing that has, and ever will, happen to me. Not only am I deeply in love with you, you’re my best friend.” You stammer out, your shaky hands somehow made there way to his neck, letting them fall slowly before he grabs them dragging you in for a kiss before you got to even see his face.

“Everybody has always thought we’re a couple.” He continued taking his time kissing you all over your face. “Then I guess we should be.” You retort, kissing him back before you could see his reaction, not wanted to be embarrassed anymore today. But he caught you, holding you still “Really “y/n? Like deadass?” He asked.

  “Yes dummy, I want to be your girlfriend” You say causing him to grin swearing you’ve never seen him smile that big, before he gives you one last kiss.

  “I always kiss you on the cheek, why are you blushing now? He teases laying back down, you following along. You just snuggle into him mumbling something along the lines of “m’tired”, he understanding and speaking to you in a soft, gentle voice while helping you to bed, so he doesn’t make it harder for you to sleep by being loud. “I’m here love, I’m not going anywhere.” He whispers into your ear mkanig your heart swoon one last time before you pass out.

  “I l-love you issei.” You sleepily mumble.

“Tell me this when you’re sober.” He says stroking your head.

“Just relax, close your eyes...”He murmurs, your heart beating slower every second. Both of you together, lazy, slow presses. Limbs pressed together, chests heaving, fingers trailing down backs, tracing lazy patterns.

  “Oh!…” He remembers. “If you really wanna get them pierced, we could get matching ones.”

© all content belongs to spikesbimbo. do not alter or repost .

[kimmyyang]

210408 Zhang Zhehan's interview with Elle Magazine

"I want to be like Ah-Xu, be a gentle yet strong person."

On the day of the photoshoot, it was a rare windy day in Bei Hai. The weather forecast reported it will rain, which made everyone slightly heart-stricken. "Can we still take photos by the seaside?", "how about changing the location?", we were worrying, but fortunately it didn’t rain, only left with steer drop in temperature and roaring wind.

On the way to the photoshoot location, Zhang Zhehan recorded the sound of wind outside of the window. To be able to use the last bit of daylight before the sun sets completely, after filming, he only had one hour and a bit to go back to the hotel, have dinner, change clothes, and get his makeup done. And now, when we have done everything, he uses the time in the car to chat with the long-waited fans in the drama interactive zone.

Busy is an expected state. But when we saw him at the location, you can’t tell any trace of being busy from his face. The strong wind blew the gravels on the beach in the sky. During the interval of the photoshoot, everyone couldn’t help but complained about the cold wind and getting sand all over their faces. Only Zhang Zhehan looked more relaxed as if he came back from a different beach as us.

When we moved to the coffee shop, we finally had time to sit down and talk. He asked the staff to give him a cushion for his back, at that moment, it was probably the first time that made us realize that he is actually very tired. "It’s tough and tiring to be an actor, right?" we haven’t even finished the sentence, and he disagreed, "it’s all the same, every job is tough and tiring."

It seems that he has a big heart.

He chose to ride to Tibet with his friend for his graduation trip. Like his mum said he always has the spirit of seeking out suffering. Speaking of this journey, he said: "we’re living too happily, most families don’t have to worry about clothes and food, don’t need to go through a lot of hardships. I like what Huang Lei teacher once said, ‘people will only have faith after suffering, people will understand kindness after suffering.’ I think after seeing the suffering in the world and feel the suffering yourself - you will be kind to others."

After hearing what he said, you will realize that ‘big heart’ could have been a misunderstanding. He can’t dilute ‘sufferings’ more than others, instead, in the moments of ‘seeking out sufferings’, his feeling towards ‘sufferings’ is stronger and more abundant compared to most people.

He has a very meticulous side, he feels, understands, and hides his ‘sufferings’. Then, those experiences and feelings related to sufferings become something that is hard for others to spot on him.

He said, "when we’re going through a hardship, we can only see the hardship itself, you don’t realize that it’s actually reminding you something and teaching you something else." This is also his understanding of being mature – you can see the many sides of one thing.

‘Bruce Almighty’， ‘The Pursuit of Happyness’， ‘The Bucket List’ are his favorite movies. He said, "there’s a line from Bruce Almighty that left a deep impression – do you really hope God will give you happiness? Maybe everyone’s interpretation of happiness is different, but in the movie, the protagonist only realized it at the end, God was giving him happiness, but not the so-called happiness, God taught him the ability to gain happiness." He pressed his thumb again his chin, slightly looking down, earnestly sharing his impression of the movie.

He added, "you’re actually changing your perspective of the problem." Like what he wrote before, "being mature is being able to see the things that you couldn’t see before."

Maybe if the settling time is long enough, you will be able to stay calm in the change of tides and guard yourself in the quicksand under your feet. Speaking of popularity, he was calmer than we expected.

He said, "popularity is very important for an actor. I think it’s complementary, when you’re popular, you will receive more attention. You will be able to carry some things on your shoulders, first, it can prove that you have the ability, second, it can prove you’re acknowledged by the market."

He continued, "as actors, we also need to be acknowledged by the market. I have seen some amazing actors, they put so much effort into every character but maybe haven’t been acknowledged by the market yet, so they remain unknown. Therefore, a lot of great characters won’t fall into their hands.” It sounds cruel but it’s an undeniable fact. He added, “if you’re not popular, good scripts won’t even land in your hands."

The success of ‘Word of Honor’, to Zhang Zhehan, is like winning the lottery.

He said, "the success of a drama depends on timing, geographical and social conditions, none of these is dispensable. There are hundreds and thousands of dramas filmed each year, but in the end, there will only be one or two that everyone would love. That kind of feels like winning the lottery."

Working hard is very common, it’s nothing special, he thinks it’s unreasonable if you just use ‘working hard’ and ask why you are ‘under appreciated’. Just like how everyone praises him for being an experiential actor and praises his immersive acting. But he thinks, this is the passing line to be an actor, this is what actors are supposed to do.

He said, "if you’re an actor and you don’t experience the character, how could you portray it well, if you don’t get into the character, how could you make the character come to life?"

Working hard, experiencing, and immersing… he views them as a refined definition of actor, these are the preconditions of the lottery ticket. As for whether you can win the lottery in the end, no one can predict it. At least in his experience, he waited for 11 years for that winning lottery ticket.

After the filming ended, he wrote ‘jianghu, goodbye’ on Weibo, when the last episode aired, it was exactly 6 months after the last day of filming. His Weibo is on the setting of showing only the recent 6 months’ posts, as if it was a ‘long been destined’ farewell.

Perhaps the character Zhou Zi Shu is destined to be his. During the four months of filming, he had to gradually reveal Zhou Zi Shu’s two thousand layers of gray, he had to find him, become him, and lastly live the rest of his life for him.

Actors are probably all like this, they always must pour in their own life, emotions, and experience to make the character come to life. The process of making the character come to life means the actors get to experience life and emotions once again.

"Life is experience, you need to put some of your experiences into your characters."

Hegel mentioned in ‘Lectures on Aesthetics’ - 艺术通过供观照的形象可以缓和最酷烈的悲剧命运, 使它成为欣赏的对象。(thank you @sixteenthshen for providing the original quote!)

the specific lines zzh mentioned is bolded: If we are in a general way permitted to regard human activity in the realm of the beautiful as a liberation of the soul, as a release from constraint and restriction, in short, to consider that art does actually alleviate the most overpowering and tragic catastrophes by means of the creations it offers to our contemplation and enjoyment, it is the art of music which conducts us to the final summit of that ascent to freedom.

The reason why those so-called pains are endowed with aesthetic tension may lie in ‘being watched with pleasure’. Those most beautiful things aren’t been torn in our real lives, they become one ‘tearing performance’ after another, being shown on the stage, shown on the screen. The existence of aesthetic distance made ‘those so-called pains’ into something that can be bearable, having its own appreciation.

That so-called ‘pain’ experience comes more direct towards actors, there’s not much room for leeway. In his previous interview, he commented that Zhou Zi Shu is the most memorable character, the character that hurt him the most. Talking about ‘getting hurt’ again, he thinks that is unavoidable.

"I say that an actor has to get into the character and get out of character quickly. But when you’re acting in a happy scene, that happy feeling might last for a day or few days. When you’re acting in a sad, heart-broken scene, even you say it’s ok, it’s fine, it won’t affect me. But it will affect your mood, including your actions. When I go back to my room, I can’t help but to think about that scene, I might not be willing to go out and walk around."

"So, do you think acting is a process of wearing yourself out and wearing emotions down?"

"Of course, of course, of course, it’s wearing myself out." He said of course three times consecutively, "it’s not just wearing my emotions down, it also wears my physical strength out, wears my experience out, and a lot of my own things. So, if I want to do well in a piece of work, I can’t go into the next crew right after I have finished filming. Because you will have traces of the last piece of work, it’s actually hard to accept and get into the next character."

"I personally really like to stay in the filming crew, the reason why I said Zhou Zi Shu is great is that we couldn’t have any other work due to COVID-19 restrictions. I was in the crew for 4 months, in peace. I was looking into and experiencing the character carefully."

On the day of the interview, the Q&A part about acting was the most ‘unrestrained’. Every time we throw out a question, we would always get a powerful and resonating reply. From the perspective of a bystander, you could feel that he is the kind of person that is shining in his professional field.

At the end of every drama/ film, he would choose to leave that environment, and go out to have fun for few days. "I’m not insisting that I need to disengage from the drama/ film, I just want to relax, return to myself, return to Zhang Zhehan’s life."

"So, when you’re looking at Zhou Zi Shu again now as a viewer, do you have any different sentiment?"

"Of course, I would think of the funny parts and incidents. A lot of interesting bits that I’ve added in myself, you can see it in the character." Fortunately, as an actor, he can also feel the happiness that ordinary viewers have.

In our conversation, the words that he mentioned the most were 'gentle yet strong'.

"I really like netizens' comments that Zhou Zi Shu is gentle yet strong."

"The quality that I admire the most now is gentle yet strong."

"I feel like now I want to be like Ah-Xu, someone who is gentle yet strong."

"I want to be like Ah-Xu, become a bit gentler."

He thinks this seemingly contradictory combination is very interesting, "strong describes a person who is strong, whereas gentle is soft. These two words may seem to have no connection, but when they’re put together, it’s also a perfect connection."

"I didn’t feel this way before. I used to think people have to be strong, powerful, how can you be gentle yet strong? I think that’s something I need to learn now. This person must make everyone around them feel comfortable and think of others, but at the same time he/ she is also an individual who’s very strong and full of capabilities."

"Like water, it’s like this when it’s calm, it’s like that when it’s surging high."

He used as many hand gestures as he could as he wanted to express what’s on his mind as much as possible.

Gentle yet strong, this is what he saw, felt from Zhou Zi Shu, and it’s also the character experience he most wants to leave behind.

"Speaking of what hasn’t changed for 11 years, is that I’m still acting; speaking of changes there are a lot. All these years of experience, it became my understanding of each character, in contrast, 11 years of acting experience allowed me to learn a lot from my characters."

To him, every big or small character he had in the past 11 years is a mutual encounter, he gave something to the characters, and the characters also left him with something.

Those who have seen his acting praise him that he truly understands Zhou Zi Shu, so we asked how he could stand in the perspective of Zhou Zi Shu to understand his words and actions. He doesn’t think that it was understanding, it just naturally happened.

"I didn’t deliberately try to understand him, I think what he did was just following his heart, that’s how I feel, so that’s how it should be. I would ask if it was myself, can I do that? Is it acceptable? If I think it’s ok, then it’s right. If I think it’s unacceptable, I will definitely tell the director - 'I don’t want to act this way.'"

"I read another book today, the main idea is the most important thing for people is to know themselves. Know yourself, know what kind of person you are, then you will know the world. You need to learn how to reconcile with yourself, learn how to communicate with yourself, tell yourself when you need to keep going, when to compromise, when you need to understand, when you need to be strong… you need to keep being yourself and convince yourself at certain times."

Meeting Zhou Zi Shu, to Zhang Zhehan is also the process of meeting and knowing himself. "But I’m probably not as mighty as Zhou Zi Shu," he laughed.

He thinks that he’s not at the age of looking back, the things that have happened, just let them go. "There’s nothing to remember in particular, there’s nothing memorable. And my occupation, a lot of people will remember for you, they will remember your good, remember your various moments, so I don’t need to remember. What I need to do now is to live well, my current life, future life, and get into the next role."

"When I can’t act anymore, I think I will look back more."

Now, he wants to challenge a new area, "I really want to act in movies, act in more movies. 40 episodes of acting and 2 hours of acting are different, condensed acting is the quintessence. I still need to learn how to act well in the 2 hours."

And "I hope I can be a director one day."

The beautiful scenery in spring is as deep and wide as the sea, it’s fortunate that we get to meet.

"My occupation, many people will remember every moment of yours."

"Immerse into my next character, and live well - that's what I need to do now. "

Translation by: KIMMYYANG

[meistoshi]

the  sound  is  mirrored,  but  satoshi  instead  drops  the  side  of  a  fist  onto  an  open  palm,  nodding  in  understanding.     ❛  oh !!  yeah,  that'd  make  sense !!  me  &  pikachu  have  been  together  since  the  day  we  met,  &  i've  used  mega  evolution  with  lucario  a  handful  of  times.     ❜  a  pause.     ❛  i  might  have  used  it  with  my  greninja ... ??  it  doesn't  have  a  stone,  but  we  had  something  similar  to  mega  evolution  —  y'know,  with  the  whole  —  whoosh  different  appearance  &  bam  power - up stuff.     it  feels  enough  like  mega - evolving  lucario,  so,  might  be.     ❜

he  does  regret  a  little,  not  looking  into  these  kinds  of  things  more  when  they're  the  most  relevant.     often  he's  finding  that  things  that  didn't  matter  in  the  moment,  that  he  simply  shrugged  off  as  broadly  cool  without  a  " need "   for  elaboration, he wishes he knew more about much later on.     maybe  he'll  get  in  touch  with  professor  sycamore  again  some  day,  have  citron  tag  along  so  they  could  review  old  data,  compare  it  with  satoshi's  actual  mega  evolutions.     ... maybe. he's still a little unsure how safe it is for him & gekkouga in the heart of kalos. ah, there's more pressing things.

❛  i  don't  hear  anyone  like  that,  but  i  do  get  that  pokémon  &  really  bonded  people  feel  like ...   more ... ??  it's  kinda  like ...     if  i  think  about  it,  i  can  definitely  feel  both  you  &  pikachu,  &  i  could  tell  who's  who  if  i  had  my  eyes  closed  even  if  you  moved  quietly.     i  can  even  kind  of  feel  lucario  right  now,  even  though  it's  in  its  ball, buuut that might just be 'cause it's lucario, hah.     ❜  as  he  talks,  one  of  his  hands  comes  up  to  where  pikachu's  perched  &  absent - mindedly  scratches  at  it.     pikachu  takes  a  wordless  cue  to  halfway  hop  off,  landing  into  satoshi's  hold,  cradled  as  the  trainer  continues  to  pet  at  it.

now  that  he's  letting  himself  think  about  it,  he  can  feel  the  ripple  of  pikachu's  charge  flow  over  &  through  him,  that  in - between  sense  of  uncertainty  whether  it's  from  pikachu's  body  or  its  spirit.     it's  always  grounding,  though.     ❛  everyone  feels  like  a  different  kind  of  wave,  almost ??  pokémon  feel  more  solid,  like  water  waves,  while  humans  are  more  like  ... wind ... ??  i  don't  usually  try  to  get  a  sense  for  humans,  so  i  don't  have  a  good  frame  of  reference  for  it. ❜

he moves the gaze that had shifted to pikachu back to silva, looks her in the eye & tries to let himself get a better feel for her aura. ❛ i guess we're kind'a the same, 'cause, i  think  because  you've  got  so  many  strong  bonds  with  pokémon,  you  kind  of  feel  like  both.     you're  like  standing  in  a  warm  sea  on  a  sunny  but  really  windy  day. if that makes sense.     ❜  there's  a  bit  of  a  chill  at  the  bottom  of  that  sea,  right  in  the  dunes.     ( he's  felt  similar  colds  from  those  that  have  had  brushes  with  death ) .     he's  not  sure  if  that's  what  it  is,  though,  &  he's  certainly not  about  to  pry.     everyone's  got  their  quirks.

" mmhh--! "

Hearts have always been apart of her life, in a way, despite herself likely having none--not that she knows or entirely understands that part of her being. She had a few theories as to why she could hear Satoshi's heart--one of them was what she usually thought when she heard people's hearts...that they weren't humans at all.

Though honestly she'd been around Satoshi enough to realize that he wasn't a pokemon, so that limited the options quite a lot. Plus when it came to pokemon, even when they looked like humans--however temporary--there was a sense of understanding she got from them that she just didn't get with people, even for as long as she had gotten a handle of language. The one exception to this was the Ultra Humans she had met...and Xerosic. There was an immediate understanding that she got that was similar to how she understood pokemon immediately. Though, she really couldn't quite pinpoint why that was.

Something something...Ultra Space??? She didn't know!! Maybe one day she'd figure it out, it wasn't like she was at a lack for time.

" hmm... "

Silva lifted her hand to her chin, looking down at the ground a moment as she tried to think. After a moment she made an audible 'uh!' sound followed by snapping her fingers.

" usually i can't hear human hearts, i think it's just that they're tu quiet fur me!! buuut...a lut uf peuple whu are really really cluse tu pukemun i have an easier time hearing them!! like mega evulutiun trainers i can hear a little better, but they're still pretty quiet!! yurs is definitely luder than must!! "

Silva let out a giggle, nodding a few times.

" pukemun are kind uf a way fur peuple tu enhance their hearts, and in a way that makes them be luder!! su i can hear them!! "

[qingxintea]

heartbreak avenue (3) || albedo x reader

heartbreak avenue (1) heartbreak avenue (2) -- tell me how, do you do this thing called living? when theres nothing more to gain. gn reader -- ignore the link below idk how tf to hyperlink on mobile but that’s ur part 4 ig

damn. imagine missing mond so much that you visit just for the vibes and accidentally become a one time vigilante for dominating over a couple abyss mages

how oddly specific!

you moment.

TO BE FAIR, you didn't mean to and also ur just strong with that 245% crit damage ugh yeah yeah get it ig

it was night time, like, idk 1am and you were in this cloak because idk look swaggy and comfortable

abyss mage went ŏ̸̡̡̹̘͉̫̬̬̭̘̙̝͐͒̆̈́̒̿̄́͠͝ǒ̸̧̺͕̣̬̝̱͈̭̭̻̮̈̏̔͆̑̀̍ǫ̵̡̜̲̭̠̤̰̹͍̣͎̤̈́̓̍͠ḩ̴̡͍̣̹̯̭̩̮̣̩̭́̔̀̍͊̂͒́̆͘͜͝͝ȃ̷̧̡̢̡̨̛̪͓̤̜͕̳̦̼͊̏̃͆̓̈́̈́̽̈́͌͐̋̚ͅh̸̡̩͍̟͕̥͚̰̰̟̮̖̪̉̈́͛͂̍̾a̸̧̢͕̙̞̳̩͈̲͉͕̒̆̎̐̎̍̀͊͘̚͝h̸̡̼͓̝͕̫̤̰̱̬̣̗͚̙̀͜ and you were like "lmao shut up"

and like it did! because you made it shut up and also mans diluc was watching in his dark knight hero thingy

of course you noticed his presence from the beginning, you just wanted to piss him off and act like he wasn't there at all

you walked. straight past him like he was actually on the bridge in the middle and you just w al ked .

i mean ofc he gonna say something. and he did. dude said "who r u"

stared at him directly in the eye and said "the embryo made of chewed bubblegum."

he stared. sh o ck ed . what were you even saying

"jk im a resident of mondstadt, visiting from my liyue trip."

"and how do i know you arent lying?"

you sighed and grabbed your dendro vision, letting him look at the frame. "its incased in a mondstadt styled frame." after a few seconds, you put it back. "if that is all, i'll be going."

"k"

"literally fuck off" you responded and walked inside.

sometimes you forget how rude mondstadt people are lmao loser.

ok so like this donna girl really went up to you like "JFKLSJFLKSDJFL NUMBER ??? HELLO ?? UMM THE WAY YOU SAVED MONDSTADT RLKDFFC" and you resisted every urge to flip her off on the spot.

you just stayed and let her talk, smiling through all of it. your hood was still on but it was quite windy s ooo

its been ten minutes. girl please let us go. you were literally begging for anyone to cut in because ur too nice (or unbothered) to tell her to shut up even though you totally went off on diluc aadahahhshdf

and someone did! not the one you expected though.

"good evening donna, and... oh? who would you be?"

ALBEDO LMAO GET STICKBUGGED? ? ? ?? AH a hjfkahfjah . im so funny .

guys i meant that ironically please

anyway

you got even more uncomfortable lmao and you just looked at him and smiled. what do you respond? "no one of importance."

he heard your voice, saw your eyes and it registered. it was you...

or was that what he wanted to believe?

cause this whole time hes been waiting for you, only using experiments as a thing to pass time. it got... a little more lonelier, because nothing could replace you.

he decided to not believe it. because 1) you knew well they welcomed you with open arms, so there would be no need to hide yourself

(which is also proof of how much the whole situation fucked up your thinking)

a second of silence before he continues on the conversation with normal evening meeting stuff things idk

then ur like "ahhshaaajk i must be taking my leave now for matters i will not disclose ahaha skidoosh"

skidoosh

so you go to the big venti statue next to the cathedral and just stand. stare. yikes

no ones out right now and theres nothing to do. but you remember this place because its where the both of yall would eat together whenever he had free time (which wasnt that often, but he still made the effort)

you look up to the sky, counting all the stars like you used to.

no ones gonna know that you're here, you decided on that. you only visited because you simply missed it, but after this, you were going back to liyue.

no ones gonna know. because no one needs to know. no one needs to know that you were here. that would only cause more trouble to the situation you tried to avoid

albedo ends up catching up to you later, still having some spark of hope left that it really was you

i mean lowkey there isnt really anything saying it wasnt. he wanted to believe that he was just overthinking when he thought it really wasnt you

like you look the same. sound the same. its just the reasoning of you coming here, but he can push that aside

"(y/n)."

you flinch but didnt react with anything else. he doesnt need to know that its you.

"(y/n)?"

you turn around to meet his eyes as he was approaching you. slightly distancing yourself another inch away as you were not used to the proximity, you responded, "i'm afraid i'm not the one you're looking for."

albedo stops for a moment, and was about to apologize,, but then

yknow that wind i mentioned earlier? like right after donna started bothering you

yeah that same wind blew ur hood off! lmao L

okay time to get serious !

you stay composed and sighed, your breath visible in the cold air.

so your features are exposed, and its so obviously you, like theres literally no way it cannot be you

"it really is you..." he doesnt understand why youre not admitting to it. "(y/n), please.."

you shake your head and walk away but mans grabs your wrist gently

"(y/n), whats wr-" he starts, but youre quick to respond

"im not (y/n)." you flat out said it and looked right into his eyes. and you swear there were small tears even if he was deemed nonchalant.

he doesnt understand, its your physical features, and your same energy, there is no other person that completely matches it.

he pulls you closer to examine this black smudge on your hand, a small yelp of surprise coming from you.

"this is... ink," he studied the properties of the substance. "you responded to my letter a day ago. (y/n)... i know by now. there's no reason to hide it."

you step away, freeing your hand from his grasp. your voice broke, tears forming in the corners of your eyes. "i'm not... i'm not (y/n). i never will be. i'll never be so vulnerable again, i'll never be so naive again, i'll never be so lonely again, i will never ever be anything like they were again."

your vision blurred, but you werent oblivious to the tears streaming down his face as well. reaching to brush them away, you paused and let it drop to his shoulder instead.

"albedo. i... the (y/n) you knew... they're gone now. and if i could revert back to them any time, i would, i swear, but... i'm al-... they..." you buried your head in your hands. "i'm broken. to the point that i refuse to identify as the (y/n) you know me by."

doesnt know what to say, so he almost pulls you into a hug before you move out of the way. something you never did.

"don't... please. it never works out in the end." you shake your head, facing the other way. "for me at least."

"..we could work together, no?" he tried, still oblivious about your feelings towards him.

"only if you're willing to cross your moral boundaries," you looked back and tilted your head. taking a deep breath, you continued, "but you know that neither of us are willing to do that."

he couldn't say anything, because as much as he hated to admit something for once, you were right about that. at this point, he would've thought that literally any extent would've been fine to reach to bring you back.

yet in multiple situations where he's doubted himself before, theres always a line he will never cross.

"...i wish you the best. treat her well because i worked hard." you walked away without him stopping you this time. i worked hard. not we worked hard.

even if you had honestly felt that way, there was no chance the old you wouldve actually voiced that.

and so he watched you slip from his grasp again, only this time, he stopped himself from holding you back from his own will.

yet he swears- the next time he meets you again, he will bring you back.

[preciousthingsareprecious]

Around the Carousel

Catch me joining Damian Wayne Week after it started with some impulse fics. This is for day 2 (I almost made it to actually posting on the 14th my time). I selected the: Undercover prompt.

Summary: Bruce and Damian go undercover at a school fair. They're supposed to be investigating, instead they stop to enjoy themselves.

AO3 Link

~

Bruce tucked his hands into his pockets and smiled down at Damian as the boy adjusted his hat. It was the third time he’d done it in ten minutes as the wind kept pulling at it, trying to tease it off his head.

It was a windy night for them to be out. A steady breeze blew through fair stalls, kicking up banners and tablecloths, and threatening to blow papers and smaller items off of tables. It cut the late Spring heat in a nice way, making the night mild and perfect for a school fair. Which, was exactly where they were at.

“If you’d like, I can carry that for you.” Bruce said.

Damian dropped his hands and looked up at Bruce, “I am fine, Fa--Uncle Matches. It is not bothering me.”

“Alright, whatever you say, kiddo.” Bruce smiled, “You wanna adjust those glasses while you’re at it?”

His son frowned, his nose wrinkling, and sending the glasses sliding a little further down it. It was unreasonably cute. Bruce held up his phone and snapped a photo of his son. The flash went off and when Bruce dropped his phone Damian was looking surprised.

“For posterity's sake.” Bruce explained, examining the picture, it had caught Damian’s expression perfectly.

He attached it to a text and sent it to Dick, anticipating a response of jealousy from his eldest. Dick was in Bludhaven, working his own case, and had to bow out of joining the Matches boys as they went undercover.

“Uncle Matches, are you planning to spend all night looking at your phone or are we to explore the fair? You promised to examine my entry for the art exhibit.”

How Damian had managed to get a piece in an art exhibit at a school he didn’t even attend Bruce was still figuring out. Apparently he’d had Oracle hack into the system and create a profile and enrollment information for one Matthew “Matches” Malone. Damian’s art was set up under the moniker Lil’ Matches, and even thinking about it made Bruce smile.

“Of course, lead the way.”

Damian nodded, the action shaking his glasses loose again. Bruce bit back a smile. It was Damian who’d insisted on going the Clark Kent route with glasses and selecting clear ones to help obscure their identities, instead of the normal shades that paired with the Matches persona. It would be hard to defend sunglasses at a fair that took place mostly after dark.

It had been a good call, so far no one had recognized them in their suits and glasses, and they’d been able to enter the fair and purchase game tickets with ease.

His kid adjusted the glasses again, turned on his heel and began to lead Bruce. He followed at a leisurely pace, enjoying the lights strung across stalls, the smell of food frying, and the calls of students manning games and trying to get them to use their tickets to purchase sketches or experiences.

“I believe our target is one of the art students. Most have been asked to spend time by their pieces at the exhibit.” Damian explained as he walked.

“What time is their slot?” Bruce asked, eyes catching on a bottle toss game.

“He should arrive in approximately an hour.”

“An hour you say?” Bruce hooked an arm around Damian’s shoulders and spun him back towards the bottle toss, “Then why don’t we spend some time enjoying the fair, my dear nephew?”

Damian stopped and looked up at him with open surprise, “But we are on a case?”

“At a school fair. The likes of which I don’t think you’ve ever properly attended. Didn’t the one at your school get interrupted?”

“No.”

Bruce frowned, “You didn’t go, I remember that. What happened?”

His son looked down at the ground, fascinated by the way dust coated his shoe, “There was a Scarecrow attack the night prior. I--was incapacitated by it.”

He remembered now. Damian had taken a dose of toxin for Tim when his brother’s mask had cracked. Both of them had been down for a while, but Damian had been exposed longer than Tim by the time Batman and Spoiler had arrived. He’d been shaky and sick for days after.

Bruce squeezed Damian’s shoulder, “All the more reason to enjoy this one.”

He tried not to think about how Dick would have remembered right away and not pushed the subject, or how even if he had fallen in this pit he’d have figured out how to cheer Damian right away, “We can afford some distraction, you don’t want to be bored for an hour do you?”

Damian hummed, and glanced up, “I would not be opposed to trying a game or two.”

“Perfect, let’s start with the ring toss.” Bruce smiled.

They traded in some tickets for both of them to get a chance at the ring toss. The operator pointed at some green rimmed bottles, “Get at least three rings on the green and you’ll win a prize. If both of you get three onto green you can get one of the big ones or two smaller prizes.”

They had four chances each. Bruce glanced at Damian. He was focused, feeling the weight of the rings in his hands, and eyeing the bottles like he was doing the math in his head calculating what it would take to get them perfectly in place.

After a moment Damian tossed the first ring, it caught at the edge of one of the green bottles and slipped off. He frowned at it, nodded, and then tossed his remaining three in quick succession. All three landed around bottles.

Bruce grinned, and looked up to see the surprise on the operator's face. His son was extraordinary, and Bruce loved seeing him show off.

He took his own time tossing his rings, landing three as well, and missing his last. He shrugged, not minding missing one. They still met the requirements for the big prize.

“Well, kiddo, what do you want?” He asked.

Damian looked up at the racks of plushes hanging from the top of the booth, considering. He pointed at two of the smaller ones. One was a dog dressed as Batman, with a little cowl and cape, and the other was a duck wearing a green deerstalker cap, with a small magnifying glass attached to one of its wings.

The operator handed Damian both animals with a smile, “Good choices, looks like you’re a fan of detectives.”

“Yes.” Damian said, “I am, as is my brother. He will enjoy the duck. Thank you for the diverting game, and best of luck with others.”

As they walked away, Damian handed Bruce the duck, “I trust you to keep an eye on this.” he said, “If you lose it Timothy will be terribly disappointed. I cannot miss bringing him a souvenir twice in a row.”

Bruce raised an eyebrow at him, “It’s not for Dick?”

“Tt, I would have selected a different animal for him, perhaps an elephant or bird.” Damian fiddled with one of the ears of the cowl on his dog, “I promised Timothy a prize if I won one last time, it was supposed to be in exchange for driving Jon and I. Even though the event did not happen, he might still enjoy one from here.”

“I’m sure he will.” Bruce said, resisting the urge to tug Damian into a tight hug, “What would you like to do next? That didn’t take us very long.”

His son looked around the fair, “Perhaps we could try one of the rides? Is there one you particularly enjoy?”

Bruce looked up around them, the fair had a variety of rides. The school had managed to hire a good selection, including a carousel. Bruce pointed at it, they could just see the pointed top from where they were.

“The carousel, you’ll love it.”

This time Bruce led, with Damian close by his side, as they walked, Bruce gave into the desire to reach down and take Damian’s hand in his own. When the boy looked up at him Bruce smiled, “It’s normal for families to do, especially in a busy place like this.”

The crowd wasn’t so thick Bruce was worried about losing Damian, but the move felt natural. He’d held his other children’s hands at events like this before, even Tim’s, though they’d gone well after the boy was the usual age for hand holding when wandering around an event. Damian didn’t seem too upset, in fact he gave Bruce’s hand a squeeze.

“That makes sense. As my Uncle you would be concerned for my safety and wish me to stay close.”

“Of course.” Bruce nodded.

Soon they reached the carousel. Bruce watched Damian with a close eye as they approached. Damian’s face went from cautious and curious, to delighted. There was something about being at the fair and undercover that seemed to let his son react a little more openly than he might if they were somewhere else. Bruce contributed it to the magic of the night.

“It has animals?” he asked, looking up at Bruce.

“Yep, different types. Carousel horses and animals are actually a really unique type of art. There are some horses that have sold for tens of thousands of dollars.” He explained, “And some artists who spend their whole lives making just horses for them.”

Damian’s eyes had gone very wide now, his face open with childlike delight, “And we are allowed to ride them?”

“Most yes, this one probably isn’t as fancy as some, but if you’re interested I’m sure we can visit a few of the more famous ones. I bet Dick’s seen some really cool ones from when he was younger.”

The look on Damian’s face, of excitement and anticipation was enough to melt Bruce’s heart and say yes to anything the kid might ask. Bruce tugged him forward.

“Come on, let’s get in line.”

They didn’t have long to wait, just until the ride stopped and emptied off. From there, they traded in a few more tickets for a chance to ride. Damian wandered the whole of the ride before selecting a white horse with gold trimmings. Bruce took the brown one beside it. They’d taken so long selecting, that almost the moment after they were settled, the ride began to move.

Damian’s laugh when the horse he was on began to rise and fall along with the forward momentum of the carousel was like music. Bruce wanted to take him on every carousel in the world to keep hearing that laugh and seeing that smile.

“May we go again?” Damian asked, the moment the ride stopped.

“Of course.” Bruce told him.

After the second ride, they stepped off and back into the crowd. Bruce checked his watch, they still had some time to spare before they had to be at the art display. He glanced around and caught sight of some food stands.

“Have you had a funnel cake before?” He asked, elbowing Damian.

His son shook his head.

“Then we’re getting one.” Bruce declared, “They’re the perfect mix of fried dough and toppings. We’ve got enough time to enjoy one before getting back on track.”

Damian looked less excited by the prospect of fried dough, but agreed to try it. Soon, the two of them were seated at a picnic table with a funnel cake between them. It was topped with powdered sugar, chocolate, sprinkles, and even some whipped topping. Damian gaped at the concoction, but Bruce passed him a fork with confidence.

“You just have to go at it.” he explained, “Dig in and enjoy.”

His son snorted, “That sounds like something Richard would say.”

Bruce grinned at him, “It should, he told me the very same thing when he introduced me to funnel cakes.”

Together they managed to eat the entire funnel cake. As Bruce set his plastic fork down, he thought finishing it off might have been a mistake even if they weren’t in the middle of an undercover operation. His stomach felt heavy with grease, sugar, and bread.

“That was--a lot.” Damian said, finishing his bottle of water.

“Yes.” Bruce said, wiping at his fake moustache, “It was. But I think we’ll be fine. It’s about time to head over to the exhibit.”

He wanted to get there early enough to see Damian’s piece. The kid had been very secretive of what he’d been working on for it. Taking the project as seriously as he would have as if it were for his own school fair. Bruce wanted to be able to enjoy it before they disrupted everything.

They were here to catch one of the students in the act of trying to blackmail a teacher. Damian had gotten news of it from his friend Collin, letting him know that strange things were going down. After some research, Damian had found some discrepancies in grades with a few of the students, and noted one teacher withdrawing large sums of money on a regular basis. Not enough to make a kid rich, but enough to placate a teen who’d watched too much television.

Damian had brought the case to Bruce, and together they’d worked out that this would be the next best place to find the kid and teacher interacting in a public location. From what Bruce could tell, the teacher hadn’t done anything against his students, instead he seemed to be in the middle of an affair with a seperate teacher. The plan was to bust the student, or at the very least record the exchange and get it in the hands of the administration.

The teacher in question? One of the art instructors.

They tossed their trash into a bin and Bruce let Damian lead him over to where the art exhibit was put up. It was tucked in one of the further corners of the fair, out of the way of chaos, but on a busy enough route that plenty of people were stopping by to look at the art.

“Which one is yours?” Bruce asked.

“Ah, it is this here.” Damian led him to a painting hanging up on a temporary pillar.

It was a painting of the garden outside Wayne manor. Done in bright beautiful colors it looked like you could step right into the painting. Portions of the paint were raised up to create texture and shadows, like the petals on flowers. In one portion, Bruce could see Alfred the cat sleeping in a patch of sun.

“It’s gorgeous.” Bruce said, “the detail is incredible.”

Damian was blushing, “It is nothing, a quick painting.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, I know you were working on this for hours.” Bruce told him, “Do you get to bring it home?”

“Yes.” Damian said, “I was not sure what to do with it.”

“We’ll hang it up, of course. There’s a spot in the library I think will work well. Some greenery in a very brown room.”

At this point, Damian’s ears had gone red, “If you are sure.”

Bruce nodded, “I am.”

They spent a little longer looking at Damian’s painting before they shifted to look at some of the other pieces on display. There were quite a few that were really good, and a number of interesting ones. Some looked as if they had been submitted just for a grade, but all in all it was enjoyable.

Bruce was busy looking over a self portrait when he felt a small sharp elbow jab him in the side. He looked up to see Damian staring at another young man. Probably about sixteen, who’d just walked into the display area.

“That him?” he asked.

Damian nodded, “Let us wait to see if he approaches Mr. Franklin.”

Bruce slipped his phone out of his pocket and played with it, as if he were taking general photos.

“Matches, why don’t you stand by your painting? I want to get a picture of you with it.” he said, affecting a delighted uncle voice, “I’m sure your dad would love to see it.”

They moved over to the painting, and Bruce aimed the phone as he walked. Mr. Franklin was situated just behind the pillar with Damian’s painting on it. He snapped a few pictures of Damian, directing the kid to smile and pose, before slipping the phone’s setting over to video. He shifted slightly so that Franklin was in frame and hit record.

After a moment, the other boy approached him. Bruce inched forward to make sure he could get sound, and glanced over at Damian. The kid was hurrying away, off to find a separate teacher to bring over and hopefully stumble on the blackmail scene.

The exhibit was a good place to meet as Franklin was in charge of it and there wasn’t any reason for other teachers to wander over unless they were just checking things out. Most were too busy for that, with their own booths and class exhibits to care for.

Thankfully, Bruce did catch the conversation clearly from where he was. He hoped that no one would notice he’d stopped recording his kid, and started just recording the area. If he had to, he’d just say it was b-roll for a home video or something.

It wasn’t very long before Damian came back, a teacher at his heels. Bruce shifted the camera subtly back towards Damian’s painting.

“And here is my Uncle Malone. He can vouch for my skills if my piece does not convince you.” Damian was saying.

The teacher opened her mouth to say something, and then suddenly the boy speaking to Mr. Franklin shouted, “This is not what we agreed on!”

“I’m sorry--” she said, “Matches, Mr. Malone I’ll be right back.”

With that, she split from them to intervene on the argument. Bruce stopped his recording, and sent the video to Oracle who was going to forward it to the school.

“Well, that should take care of that.” Bruce said, turning to Damian, “How about we enjoy the rest of the fair? We’ve still got tickets, and there’s some rides we haven’t tried yet.”

Damian nodded, “That sounds acceptable. This fair has been, quite fun. And I am enjoying spending time with you.”

Bruce grinned, and tugged Damian into a hug, “Me too.”

“We should do the carousel again.” Damian said, stepping away to take Bruce’s hand, “And after that there is something that apparently spins you at such a speed you are stuck to the wall.”

“Oh? Well, lead the way, we’ll go until I feel like I’ve had a full patrol.”

Damian grinned at that, and Bruce felt his heart soar. He was going to have to figure out other ways of getting them undercover to things like this. Or just take Damian out to fairs more often as father and son.

[milfgritty]

constellation of asters | m. frost & j. farabee

❀ ⇢ requested: yes | no ❀ ⇢ genre: poly!au | soulmate!au | gender neutral reader ❀ ⇢ word count: 12.9k ❀ ⇢ a/n: yea i have no excuses for this. enjoy.

everyone has a soulmate, it’s just a simple known fact. a red string, a soulmark, first words tattooed on the inside of your wrist, there’s something to help every person find theirs. except, well, you never had any of those. growing up, you (kinda) came to terms with the fact that you might just not have a soulmate at all. it’s not until you meet morgan and joel that you begin to reconsider the possibility that you actually have not one, but two.

⇢ posted: 02.07.21 . | . masterlist

There are the lucky ones in the world who are born with an identifying soulmark. Something that leads them straight to their soulmate, whether it be a red string of fate, or the date of their other half’s birth, or even a tattoo shared only by the two of them. 

You, though?

You wish you were one of them. But alas, no string, no tattoo, no drawings, not even a damn clock. Nothing to ever even allude to the existence of your supposed other half. When you were younger it terrified you, made you think that something went wrong wherever soulmates were paired. Left you alone, destined to never be the perfect match for anyone. You used to watch in envy of all the kids in the schoolyard proudly displaying their tattoos, showing off whatever new their soulmate drew on their skin that morning. Knowing that they would remember that you were one of the unlucky ones soon enough, the ones people whispered about under their breath, never loudly as though terrified if someone heard them their own soulmate would vanish.

Not having a soulmate was kind of a big deal, if you couldn’t tell. 

And still years went by and you grew up with half-assed reassurances of ‘don’t worry, I’m sure your soulmate is out there somewhere, you’ll see’ and ‘maybe you just have an invisible soulmark, didn’t you know those are a thing?’. Years went by, and you grew up, and you rationalized. 

You didn’t need a soulmate. People without them got along just fine, and sometimes people lost theirs without ever meeting them in the first place. Hell, you were actually luckier than everyone else because you had the free will, the agency, to pick who you wanted to spend the rest of your life with. So what if they weren’t handpicked and perfect for you, you would be happy, dammit.

That’s what you told yourself, at least. 

~

Done with a particularly rough day of classes, you figured it was only fair to reward yourself with your favorite drink from your favorite cafe near campus. It was a special treat that you rarely afforded yourself, what with you fitting the stereotypical broke college image to an almost painful extent. Dodging other people on the sidewalk, you clutched your jacket closer around your body to protect from the harsh wind. The bag on your back straining under the combined weight of your single (five subject) notebook, textbooks, and laptop, you cursed yourself under your breath for not at the very least putting it in your car before making the five minute trek. 

Slipping into the tiny cafe nestled on the corner, you allowed yourself a sigh of relief. You took the moment to drop your stuff at a vacant table before making your way to the counter. Waiting in line, your eyes scanned the menu despite knowing exactly what you would get, as you did every time you let yourself come here. Back aching and your hand attempting to massage it from the worst possible angle, the line continued to shorten until you could order and retreat back to your table. 

You were tempted to stay, even after getting your coffee. Free wifi, decent music, and minimal noise? Easily get through at least homework for one class. But a larger part of you yearned for your warm bed and cozy blankets, preferably with pajamas. And so, it was with maximum effort that you picked back up your bag and coffee and slipped out the door and into the windy outdoors once more. 

The walk back to your car was more bearable with the addition of a hand warmer, so much so that you took the longer way through the small park you had walked past on your way there. With the trees above and around you and the dancing leaves raining down, their colors slowly changing from their normal shade to the yellows and oranges of autumn, a smile slipped onto your lips. Your eyes lingered on the flowers lining the pathway, your mind trying futilely to identify which ones they wer—

A body slammed into yours, shoulders knocking violently as you were shoved off balance. Your still mostly full coffee fell from your hand, lid flying off and spilling onto the ground. You landed miraculously not in the growing puddle of hot coffee, but still flat on your ass as you stared up in shock at the man who had somehow remained standing. 

Seconds ticked by as you stared at each other, uncomprehending. The tall and outrageously sturdy stranger broke through his shock first.

“I’m so sorry, holy shit,” he rushed out, hand reaching down to help you up. Gazing unblinking at the outstretched limb, you allowed him to pull you up. Bare skin touching yours, you only allowed a split second of disappointment when there was no discernable reaction before smothering it back down.

Really, you thought, what did I expect? A mark to show up on our hands linking us together? How naive. You really thought you had gotten passed doing that.

“It—it’s fine,” you mumbled, sparing a despaired glance down at your spilled coffee, “don’t worry about it.” How neither you nor your bag didn’t end up in the puddle was beyond you, but you’ll take it. 

His gaze followed yours, landing on the pitiful cup. “Fuck, your drink, I’m so sorry.”

“Seriously, it’s fine. Stop apologizing,” you told him, adjusting your bag and turning to leave. There was no way you were going back to the cafe and getting another drink, this one was already indulging yourself. 

“No, hey,” he lightly grabbed your jacket, stopping you. “Let me buy you a new one, make it up to you for spilling that one.” 

Suddenly much closer to his tall frame, your eyes caught on his brown ones. There was just something about him that you could already feel your resolve chipping away. 

“I was on my way to Starbucks anyway, it’s no problem,” he continued, as though sensing he was breaking you down. At the mention of Starbucks, though, your nose involuntarily scrunched. Something he definitely caught. “Or wherever it was you got that,” he laughed, his smile making your heart catch a beat. 

You shouldn’t, you really shouldn’t. Not when he’s oddly pretty and he could have a soulmate who’s not you and—

“Yea, sure.” You smiled, “Luckily for you, it’s pretty close to here.”

His smile widened, eyes crinkling at the corner, and his hand dropped from your sleeve. It was strange how much you felt its absence, but you pushed the thought away. “After you then,” he stepped aside, gesturing you forward. 

Moving around him, you fell in step together, going back the way you came. 

“I’m Morgan, by the way,” he—Morgan—introduced himself after a beat. Studying him for a split second, you thought the name suited him. 

“Y/N,” you said in response, ignoring the way his smile made you want to smile, too.

“It’s nice to meet you, Y/N.” And the two of you kept walking. 

~

Two months. It had been two months of hearing Morgan talk about Y/N this, Y/N that, and Joel still wasn’t quite sure if he liked or hated you. 

Depends on the day, really.

It wasn’t anything against you as a person; it was just, well. He wasn’t sure what it was if he was being completely honest. Maybe it was the way Morgan brightened at the mention of your name, maybe it was how he always brought you up in conversation, maybe it was how obvious it was that he liked you.

But he definitely wasn’t jealous. Of course not. How ridiculous.

He watched Morgan move around in their shared kitchen, rambling on and on. Something about how you joked earlier when you were hanging out that you would wear his jersey if he bought it for you. At that moment, he couldn’t hold the thing he couldn’t quite identify in anymore. “So have you brought up how you feel, yet?” 

Morgan stopped and closed the fridge door that he had half his body shoved inside and digging around in as he turned to face him. Brows furrowed, he shook his head with a look of poorly feigned confusion. “I—what? No, it’s not like that. Why would you even ask that?” he questioned, staring him down.

Joel shrugged, fidgeting on the stool he had perched himself on when Morgan went into the kitchen. He really wasn’t sure why he had asked. He just had. A part of him didn’t want to know why.

“Just feels like the two of you have been hanging out as much as you can. The way you talk, it’s pretty obvious how you, at least, feel,” he replied. He picked at his sweats, avoiding his roommate's gaze.

Morgan cleared his throat, turning back to the fridge. “I don’t—not like that, man,” he told him over his shoulder. He gave the fridge a second glance before closing the door, walking past Joel and out of the kitchen. 

“It’s not a big deal if you do,” Joel said as he followed him back into the living room. “You haven’t found your soulmate yet, plenty of people date before they do.”

“Why are you so concerned about it, Beezer?” Morgan pivoted on his heel to face him, forcing Joel to stop in his tracks unless he wanted to run him down. 

“I—I don’t, I’m not,” he answered, mind racing, “I just think you’ve been practically obsessed with them for months and I haven’t even met them—”

Morgan laughed sharply, cutting him off, “Is that what this is about? Seriously?”

“I mean, kinda? It’d be nice, at least.”

“Fine, then I’ll ask if we can all do something together this weekend. Is that good for you, Joel?”

Ignoring the sarcasm in his last sentence, he maneuvered around his body and flopped down onto the couch. “It is actually, thanks.” In his head, however, he was less certain. How was he gonna be able to interact with you? Would his jealousy—no, not jealousy—be obvious to Morgan, to you?

Aside from the noise coming from the TV, the next few minutes passed in relative silence after Morgan crashed down next to him. Their previous conversation already partially forgotten, Joel became focused on the shitty reality show that had started to play without them noticing earlier. 

“Look, it’s not like I’m an idiot,” Morgan started suddenly, scaring him slightly. Joel’s head turned toward him, brow lifting in question. Morgan glanced at him before returning his gaze to the TV and continuing. “It’s just, yea. Maybe you’re right.”

He trailed off, leaving him to wait. “And?”

Morgan rolled his eyes and shuffled further into the couch. “And, I don’t know if I even have a soulmate,” he steamrolled on, “Just because I might not doesn’t mean—doesn’t mean no one does, you know? I don’t want to be the selfish asshole who gets into a relationship with someone who might have a perfect match waiting for them, someone that isn’t me.” 

“You don’t know if you have a soulmate?” The piece of information stuck out to him. Hit him in the gut and made his heart jump into his throat.

His roommate shrugged, continued to steadfastly ignore him. “Never had a mark or any of the other shit people had. It’s not—not that big of a deal. But I don’t want to be with someone and always be afraid that they’re going to find what I can’t and leave me behind.” 

Joel swallowed roughly, his heart racing. “Oh,” he mumbled, voice as quiet as Morgan’s had become by the time he had gotten done speaking.

“Yea,” Morgan huffed a bitter sounding laugh, “Oh.”

“You know,” Joel spoke lightly, softly, as though worried that talking too loud would ruin everything, “People always say that things work out in the end, even if it’s shit getting there.”

This time the laugh that escaped Morgan was more real, less cold. “Is that your way of making me feel better, Beezer?”

“Depends,” he smiled, bright at the sound of his laugh, “is it working?”

Morgan threw a pillow at him, it bouncing lightly off his head. “Dude, shut up,” he told him, the smile on his face softening his words. Following his advice, Joel adjusted himself on the couch, heart feeling just a bit lighter than it had previously.

~

“So I was thinking,” Morgan started as you walked down the street together.

“Absolutely shocking, continue,” you cut in, rewarded with a shove as you laughed.

“As I was saying,” he stressed, “You should come over for a game night or something this weekend.”

“Uh,” you stuttered out. “Yea, sure. Sounds fun. Will Joel be there?” You hadn’t meant to sound so shocked, but as it was, you most definitely were. In the what, two, three? Months since you had known Morgan, you never went to his place. Never met his elusive roommate. Sure, you had heard about Joel. It was hard not to when Morgan could—and had—talk for hours about his teammate. 

But you had never met him. And to be honest, at this point you were kinda scared to. 

Sure, he seemed like a nice enough guy. Except he clearly meant the world to Morgan, and well, Morgan meant the world to you. And yea, you weren’t sure when he began to mean so much, but he does. And you want Joel to like you. What if he doesn’t?

“Yea, Beezer’ll be there. Finally get to meet him.” He nudged you lightly, shooting you a smile. Smiling nervously back, you ducked under his arm and into the cafe as he held the door open for you. 

Coming to the little cafe on the corner had become tradition, Morgan falling in love with the shop just as much as you had. It didn’t bother you in the slightest since he pays for you whenever you two come. Which is, to say, far too often.

Placing both of your orders and finding a table, you turned to your friend. “Do you think,” you began nervously, picking at the edge of the table, “do you think he’ll like me? Joel?”

Morgan looked up from his phone and tilted his head. “Of course he will. Why?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged, lying through your teeth. “It’s just, he’s your roommate—and your teammate—and wouldn’t it be, like, a little awkward if he actually hates me?”

Your question seemed to stump Morgan for a minute, his mouth opening and closing, eyebrows scrunched up as he looked at you from across the tiny table. You sat quietly, watching him think over his answer. Eyes wandering his face, your lips quirked as you just managed to pick out the way his lashes curled at the ends. So unfair, you thought, why does he get the long eyelashes? Finally, he seemed to get his words in order.

“Even if he doesn’t like you, which he definitely won’t,” he rushed out the last half, “But if he didn’t, it wouldn’t matter. It’s not like we would stop hanging out or anything. We would just, just keep hanging out the way we have been.”

Watching him, you chewed on the inside of your lip. “Promise?” you asked, voice coming out quieter than you had wanted. You hated the way you feared losing Morgan, scared that he had wormed his way into your life so quickly. 

His foot nudged yours under the table, breaking you out of your thoughts. Eyes meeting yours, your heart gave a tug at the sweet smile dancing across his lips. “Yea,” he told you, “I promise.”

Breath catching, you smiled back. “Then this weekend it is.”

~

The weekend came far sooner than you expected. 

“But you’re on your way, right?” Morgan questioned you over the phone. Figured you were running late today of all days. It was Saturday, dammit, you slept in late. That wasn’t a crime.

“Yes, Morg, I’m on my way. Leaving right now,” you reassured him, grabbing your keys off the counter and making your way to your door.

You heard his—frankly, exaggerated—breath of relief even on your end, gaining a fond eye roll out of you. “Okay, good,” he replied, “See you in like, twenty?”

“Uh-huh,” you muttered halfheartedly in response, more focused on locking up behind you. “I’ll see you in twenty.”

The only downside, of course, is that twenty minutes was definitely not enough time to settle your anxiety. And so soon enough, you were at Morgan’s shared apartment, and walking up to Morgan’s shared apartment, and oh god you were in front of his door, oh no—

This is fine. This is fine. Taking a deep breath, you reminded yourself that no matter what, even if Joel didn’t like you, Morgan wouldn’t drop you. He promised. 

Christ, that sounded lame even in your head. 

Psyching yourself up, you raised your hand to their door and knocked. Ignoring the way your hand trembled lightly, you almost jumped when the door swung open faster than you expected.

“Hey,” Morgan appeared in the doorway, beaming down at you, “You made it.”

A snort left you without your permission. “Yea, you dork, I made it.” 

Catching his eye roll, you grinned as he stepped aside and swept his hand out. “Welcome to our apartment.” Your grin widened at how dumb he was and moved past him, brushing lightly against him as you entered. 

Walking in, your eyes caught on the form draped against the couch. Heart stuttering, all the anxiety that had briefly left you came flooding back. Morgan stepped around you, guiding you over to the living room. 

“Hey, asshole, you gonna say hi or what?” he asked, picking up a pillow and throwing it at Joel. It thumped softly onto his chest and rolled off the couch, causing him to glare up at Morgan. 

You stared wide eyed as Joel huffed and slung his legs over the side of the couch, standing up and unfolding to a height similar to Morgan. Giants, you scoffed lightly under your breath, they’re literally giants. Casually, you maneuvered until your body was just barely behind Morgan.

“Sup,” he did a weird head nod thing, his eyes roaming up and down your body. “I’m Joel, it’s uh—it’s nice to finally meet you.”

You smiled weakly up at him. “Y/—” you tried, cutting yourself off and clearing your throat, “Y/N. Nice to finally meet you, too.”

The two of you stared the other down, silence filling the room as Morgan watched the two of you watching each other. Rocking on your heels, you alternated between looking at him and around the room. 

“You know, uh,” Joel started abruptly, slipping his hands into the pockets of his sweats, “Frosty talks a lot about you. Can’t shut up, I don’t think.”

“Dude,” Morgan hissed at him as a laugh slipped past your lips. You felt your cheeks warm, your smile finally feeling less forced and more genuine.

“It’s funny,” you told him, ignoring Morgan, “he talks a lot about you, too. Once he gets started, it seems like he can’t stop.”

“I hate both of you. Why did I think this was a good idea,” Morgan said, throwing his hands up and slipping in between the two of you into what you assumed was the kitchen. The sound of yours and Joel’s laughter followed him, the pair of you sharing a conspirator’s smile. 

Joel was the first to break, his smile lingering as he spared you a glance and followed Morgan. “Don’t be like that, Morg. We’re getting along already. Isn’t that what you wanted?” 

Giggling, you walked in after them. “I don’t know what I was worried about,” you teased, sidling up to the counter, “Joel is great.” 

“Oh, you would think so,” Morgan rolled his eyes, pulling a sweet tea out of the fridge and handing it to you. Smiling in thanks, you opened it and took a sip.

“Wait,” Joel stopped and shook his head, “were you actually worried about meeting me?”

Eyes widening and head shooting up, you were positive panic flitted across your face. “Uhhh,” you started, shifting from foot to foot and shrugging, “A little? I mean, you’re his roommate and teammate and he talks about you all the time—”

“—I do not—”

“Yea, you do, Morg,” you laughed, glancing over at him before returning your attention to Joel. “But, yea. After so long without meeting, I guess I kinda built you up in my head and I got worried you wouldn’t like me and things would, I don’t know, be awkward for Morgan. It’s dumb.”

It was dumb, you realized, standing there. Joel was...you didn’t even know how to describe it. He was soothing. Calming in the same way Morgan was to you, like a balm to your anxiety. Easy to talk to, joke with. It had barely been ten minutes and already you could tell that. It was the same feeling that made you let Morgan buy you another drink when you first met.

“It’s not dumb,” he told you, lifting one shoulder in a half shrug, “I guess I felt the same way.”

“Really?” you asked, surprised. For some reason, you didn’t really expect him to feel much of, well, anything when it came to meeting you.

Grinning, he nudged your foot. “Don’t look so shocked. Even NHLers have feelings, you know.”

“Shut up,” both you and Morgan chorused, glancing at each other before laughing. It was then you realized how close the three of you were, the kitchen not exactly the largest room. If you moved one way, you’d bump into Morgan. If you moved the other, it would be Joel. 

“Wanna play fortnite or something?” Morgan asked, clearing your thoughts. He knew you well enough to figure out what the scrunch of your nose after his suggestion meant. “Or not fortnite, you have a better idea?”

“What else do you guys have?” You asked, hoping against odds they would have something that wasn’t completely awful. 

Joel and Morgan shared a look, communicating silently. 

“Uhh,” Joel started, “I think we have like, Skyrim? Never got around to playing it, though.”

Eyes immediately brightening, you straightened. You almost didn’t notice how the move brought you that much closer to him. “Dude, Skyrim came out like ten years ago. How have you never played?”

“Looks like Skyrim, it is,” Morgan muttered, squeezing past you to the living room. 

“I don’t know,” Joel tried to defend himself, “It’s not what I usually play.”

“Well, that changes today, buddy.” 

“Did you just call him buddy, oh my god,” you heard Morgan’s voice distantly, covered mostly by Joel’s shocked snort. 

Thirty minutes later found the three of you sprawled across the couch, limbs just barely intertwining as Joel tried still to make his way through the character creation screen. 

“Is that a cat? Do they have fucking furries in this game?”

“I swear, I’m gonna throw my sweet tea at you,” you threatened while swallowing down laughter at Joel’s commentary.

“Do it, I’m not getting you another one,” Morgan told you, his hand lying lightly on the bottom of your calf. 

“Yea, you would,” you smiled over at him. 

A snort came from Joel’s direction, followed by, “Dude, you would.”

“Shut the fuck up, Beezer, I didn’t ask you.”

Mock gasping, you reached over and hit Morgan’s shoulder, eliciting a sharp ‘hey’ from him. “No being mean to each other,” you laughed, settling back down, shoulder brushing against Joel’s side.

“You heard the lady, Frosty,” Joel smirked, sticking his tongue out at him. 

“I’m never letting the two of you hang out again,” Morgan groaned, throwing his head back. His thumb had paused in the motion of rubbing circles into your leg. 

Exchanging a glance with the boys, you smiled. “I think it might be a bit too late for that.”

~

“You know,” you had innocently told Morgan and Joel a few days ago, “it’s kinda funny that two of my closest friends are professional ice hockey players and I’ve never even gone skating before.”

He was shocked at the revelation. Horrified, even. And definitely planning on rectifying that minor fact, something Joel fully supported and helped plan. Sadly, it took a few days before he and Joel were both home and didn’t have practice or a game and you didn’t have classes or homework, leaving the three of you able to hang out. 

He always counted it as a minor miracle when all of your schedules lined up. In the months he and Joel had known you, it happened far less than he would’ve liked. But as much as it felt better, more…more right, for it to be the three of you—which was normal, you were best friends; he didn’t like one of you more than the other—he took what he could get and didn’t complain. 

Much.

That’s how Morgan found himself at an ice rink with his two closest friends on his day off, watching one of them tie the other’s skate.

“You could’ve done this yourself,” Joel told you, fingers making quick work of your laces.

You beamed down at him, a satisfied little smile on your face, “But you do it so much better than me.”

Morgan laughed to himself, bending down to finish lacing up his own skates. Joel had gotten his done first and found himself helping you, not that he exactly put up a fight. Finishing up, he stood and leaned against the boards, peering down as Joel worked. 

“You waiting for us? That’s so sweet,” you smiled up at him, resting your weight on your hands behind you. 

Joel huffed a laugh and half turned to look over his shoulder at him, flashing him a smirk, the asshole. “Our Morgan? He’s just a sweetheart, isn’t he?”

Morgan reached out and kicked him, mindful of the blade of his skate. Rolling his eyes, he maneuvered around both of you and stepped out onto the ice. 

“Just for that, I’m going without the both of you.”

Hearing the teasing calls of his name accompanied by laughter, he smiled and went to do laps around the rink. Slowly he went through the motions, glancing behind him now and then to see if Joel had finished yet. 

When he finally did, Morgan made his way back to the two of you. “You ready to see what you’ve been missing out on?” He teased, eyes catching on the way you wobbled unsteadily and clutched tightly to Joel’s arm next to you. 

“Quick question,” your laugh came out high pitched and as unsteady as your walk, “just how hard is skating?”

“Please, don’t worry,” Joel scoffed, shortening his steps to help you. Morgan watched his teammate stabilize you, the steady rock to your choppy sea. “Skating is one of the easiest things in the world.”

“Okay, let me rephrase,” a cheeky smile flitted across your lips, “how hard is skating for us normal people?”

He shared a fond look with Joel, laughing quietly. “Trust us, you’ll be fine.” 

“I do,” you responded without a moment’s hesitation, pausing in your baby steps before continuing. “Trust you, I mean.”

The breath left his lungs in a quick rush, not expecting that, not expecting how sincere and matter of fact you had said it or how it affected him. It wasn’t fair, how quickly you could throw him off balance with what seemed like barely a thought. 

Joel cleared his throat, his hand tightening around yours. “Good,” he told you, voice remarkably soft and low before returning to normal. “I guess it’s time to get you on the ice, then?”

Morgan had to laugh a little at the fear that filled your face at Joel’s words, the way you immediately clung somehow even tighter to him. Smiling, he reached out to you, offering you his hand.

“You said you trusted us,” he told you, “So trust us. We’re not gonna let you get hurt.”

He watched your eyes meet his and fly down to his outstretched hand, back and forth between the two. One of your hands slowly let go of their iron grip on Joel and settled into his.

“Promise?” You looked from him to Joel, eyes painfully doelike. 

Once again, he shared a soft glance with his teammate before looking back at you. 

“We promise.”

You nodded, taking a deep breath and appearing to steel yourself. “Okay, alright, I’m good. Let’s fucking do this.”

Laughter peeled out of him and Joel. “There’s our Y/N,” his teammate grinned, helping you out onto the ice. The two of them kept their grips on you tight as you shakily stepped onto the ice, making sure you didn’t immediately fall.

Your first steps were wobbly, with the only thing keeping you from eating ice being him and Joel. Slowly, the three of you made your way across the ice. “There you go,” he encouraged you, “just like that. Slow and steady for right now—”

“Head up, try not to look down so much, alright? We’ve got you,” Joel reassured, the two of them going back and forth, offering advice and making sure nothing happened.

It took a bit, but soon you were giggling and flashing them pretty smiles, your grip on them loosening slowly but surely. It was enough for Morgan to speed up and swing around to skate backward in front of you.

Catching your worried glance, he smiled. “Still here, just letting you skate more on your own,” he squeezed your hand, now being held more for assurance than to help keep you up.

And so the three of you kept skating around the rink with you getting more and more confident until you were on your own and no longer needed them to hold on to. Morgan watched proudly as you went from wobbly steps to actual skating, though your arms still stayed out by your sides for balance. 

“Show off,” you yelled and laughed, attempting to shove Joel when he went to skate in wide circles around both of you. 

“What?” Joel threw his hands up, laughing loudly and dodging you. “I’m just skating circles around you.” 

“Ha ha,” Morgan grinned when you sarcastically laughed at Joel’s antics. “You’re simply hilarious, you dork.”

“I know,” Joel smiled happily, swooping in to smack a loud kiss to your cheek before speeding away. The kiss nearly knocked you over, leaving you gawking after him.

Morgan observed the two of you as he glided in front of you, a wide smile stretching across his lips. Small huffs of laughter left you as you skated—still not great, but definitely better—over to him, grabbing his hand and trying to tug him. 

“Morgan, come on,” you giggled, “help me avenge my honor.” 

“Oh, of course,” he replied, nodding his head in mock seriousness. He pulled you along in chase of Joel, the three of you laughing as you went around and around the rink. 

It wasn’t until you two caught him—Morgan suspected Joel had let them catch him, like they wouldn’t have been able to eventually—and Joel decided to try to teach you how to skate backward as Morgan followed that he realized something. 

He realized as he watched the two of you smiling and laughing, as he skated behind while Joel held your hands, as both of you made corny jokes and looked back at him to make sure he was still with you, he realized that—fuck.

He was fucked. 

Because he looked at you and heard your laughter and felt his heart tighten. Because he looked at Joel and the way he looked back at him with a fond look and toothy grin, and his heart stopped.

Because he looked at both of you and felt the same exact thing. And he realized it didn’t feel right when all three of you were together because you were just his closest friends. 

It was because when he was with the two of you, his heart skipped beats and all of these feelings weighed him down and lifted him up and—and—

Fuck. He was well and truly fucked, that’s what he realized.

~

Humming quietly under your breath, you picked up the plates from the table and made your way back to the kitchen. Stepping around Morgan, you reached down to put the dishes into the sink for him to wash. After you let them sit, you hoisted yourself up and onto the counter next to him and watched as he grabbed for one of the dirty plates.

“You think Joel will be back soon?” You asked him, tilting your head and pursing your lips. 

Morgan met your gaze and held it as he washed the plate. “Hopefully, we can’t start the movie without him.”

Dinner and a movie at their place. It was almost like a date if you let yourself think about it. But you didn’t, because they’re just your friends.

Your tall, attractive friends that you had completely platonic feelings for. Okay, mostly platonic feelings for. Fine, not at all platonic and actually very romantic feelings, but you refused to think about it. There were two of them and one of you and that, that was weird. Right? 

Right?

Kicking yourself mentally, you shot him a tiny smile. “Do we even want to know what he chose this time?” Every movie night, a different one of you had complete control over the movie. Tonight was, regretfully, Joel’s night to choose and he refused to tell either of you what you were watching. 

It went without saying that you were a bit scared. 

“I don’t think so,” Morgan made a face, putting another plate in the dish rack. You laughed lowly to yourself, watching a smile creep over his face as he glanced back at you.

“Either way,” you told him, “he needs to get back soon, I’m starting to miss the weirdo.” Shimmying down from the countertop, you walked over to the fridge to get a drink. 

Morgan made a noise of agreement, finishing up and turning off the sink. He turned to face you, grabbing a hand towel from next to him and leaning against the counter. He stared down at you without responding; the action causing you to grin slightly in confusion. 

“What’s up?” You questioned him, stretching your foot out to lightly tap his.

Head shaking slowly, his mouth opened a bit. Closing it, his eyebrows squished together in what seemed like deep thought. 

“Do you ever think about your soulmate?”

The question caught you off guard, making your body physically recoil just a touch. You shook your head, mouth hanging open. “Uhhh,” you stuttered, a startled laugh making its way past your lips. “Not if I can help it, why?”

“What do you mean?” He asked, brows still furrowed and an intent look painted across his face.

Shrugging, your eyes flitted around the room. At your side, your fingers twitched against the counter, creating a muted tapping noise. “Nothing, just...I don’t know. It’s not my favorite subject. You?”

“Yea,” he said with a forced smile, “Same thing, I guess. Not if I can help it.” 

You hummed softly, trying to figure out his expression and the change in subject. You couldn’t recall ever, ever, talking about soulmates with either Morgan or Joel. Not in the entire time you had known them. It was like some sort of weird unspoken taboo topic, never brought up, never talked about despite how popular it was for everyone else. Never asking what your soulmark was, or what date was splayed across your skin. Like there was a sense of fear lingering around it, which made sense for you but never for your boys. 

The boys. Not—not your boys, you scolded yourself.

“It’s just, you and Joel,” Morgan started, scaring you a little. “The two of you get along really well.”

Was he? Was he implying that you and Joel? Soulmates?

For a split second, your mind ran wild with the thought. To be soulmates with Joel, with his smiles for just you and Morgan, and his wild hair and dumb hats, and horrible facial hair and horrible jokes and—

How nice it would be. How irrevocably nice it would be. 

But even as you let yourself think about it for that split second, you knew it wasn’t what you wanted. Not entirely. Because it wasn’t just Joel in your daydream, but Morgan, too. With his pretty eyes and the look of exasperation he always had when he was with the two of you. The three of you. 

Always the three of you.

Shaking your head before you knew what you were doing, you replied, “Me and Joel? No, no, I mean—”

“You’re always happy and smiling around him,” Morgan cut you off, not making eye contact, “maybe the two of you—”

“I’m always happy and smiling because I’m with the two of you, you idiot,” you rolled your eyes as you cut him off in return, ignoring the way your heart pounded in your chest. 

He pursed his lips, about to retort when the sound of the door opening caught your attention. 

“Alright, assholes. I’ve got the goods,” Joel’s voice called out, the door closing behind him and keys clattering loudly into the horrible gritty tray you had gotten them. You and Morgan remained quiet as Joel made his way into the kitchen, digging around in the bag he was holding. 

He paused upon entering, eyes lifting to look from you to Morgan and back. His arms slowly fell, his face screwing up in cautious confusion. “So, uh, what did I...miss?” he asked, stepping inside apprehensively. 

“Soulmates, apparently,” you told him sarcastically when Morgan kept silent. You made grabby hands for the bag, reaching in to grab your bag of peach rings. 

Joel winced, a just barely audible ‘oh boy’ falling from his lips. “What got you on that god awful subject?”

You snorted, already shoving a peach ring into your mouth, “So you agree? It’s an awful subject?”

“Oh yea,” he nodded, reaching over and tugging at the peach ring balancing between your teeth before it tore in half, shoving his stolen half into his mouth and chewing obnoxiously. 

Pulling back, you batted at his outstretched hands, “you should’ve gotten your own. Stop stealing, thief.”

“I prefer the term rogue,” he replied, shooting you a cheeky grin. A soft ‘oh my god’ left you with a groan as you rolled your eyes and set the bag down.

Morgan’s continued silence worried you, and you could tell it unnerved Joel just as much. You stole glances at him, his posture tense and face troubled. The whole soulmates thing wasn’t your favorite, but what was going on inside of his head that had him like this? Was he still thinking about you and Joel—which was a ridiculous idea. But maybe that’s just because you knew the truth you resolved yourself to. That you just didn’t, for some unknown reason, have a soulmate to begin with. 

“What’s going on in your big boy brain,” Joel nodded at Morgan, eyebrow quirking as he watched him.

Morgan startled almost imperceptibly, his attention shooting to his teammate. He shook his head, “Nothing, just the whole soulmates thing.” 

“Still?” You frowned as you crossed your arms, puzzled. 

“Dude, just move on already,” Joel told him.

Morgan rolled his eyes, shifting his weight from foot to foot. You saw his grip on the countertop behind him tighten for a second before relaxing again.

“What’s going on?” You asked him, reaching out to lay a hand on his arm.

He flinched back, a tiny movement that you wouldn’t have noticed if you weren’t already watching. Swallowing roughly, you stopped and let your hand fall, hurt coating your insides. Morgan licked his lips and rubbed at his chin, face screwing up. 

“Don’t either of you ever think about the people you have feelings for being a perfect match for someone else? That it doesn’t matter what you feel in the end?”

Taken aback, you share a look with Joel as you grasped for words. Because you do think about that, about how Joel and Morgan have someone waiting for them that isn’t you and you don’t know when it’ll happen, only that it will and you’ll end up left behind like you always are. Alone. It wasn’t often, but late at night, the knowledge crept over you like thick sludge, refusing to move or leave.

“All the time,” Joel spoke before you could string together a sentence, his voice weak and a frown marring his features. “But it does matter, doesn’t it? Because you still have time with them now, and you can’t waste it for something that might happen.” 

“But it will,” Morgan stressed, the hand that had rubbed his chin flying out to his side with a look of helplessness. “It will happen.” 

“But you don’t know that,” you countered, fighting to get the words out. Your throat was tightening up, your heart pounding away. “No one really does. You don’t even have to end up with your soulmate.”

“Why wouldn’t you,” Morgan laughed without humor, “why wouldn’t you leave to be with the person hand picked for you?”

“Because I don’t have one,” slipped past your lips without your permission, the truth behind your words hitting you like a brick. Tears pricked behind your eyes as you swallowed harshly, stepping into yourself. 

Morgan moved back and hit the counter behind him with a dull thud, staring at you with an unreadable expression. To your other side, Joel looked down at his feet, hands shoved into his pants. 

“I never had one,” you continued, softer, quieter. Weaker. “I’ve always been the person without someone made just for me, but I’ve moved on. Because it doesn’t matter. It’s what I make of it, and it’s the scariest fucking thing, but it is what it is.”

“What if I can’t move on?” Morgan whispered, unable to meet your eyes. 

“Then the people you were scared of leaving weren’t worth it to begin with,” Joel told him, gazing at him sadly. 

Morgan’s face dropped forward into his hands, rubbing harshly. The three of you were silent, the tension nearly suffocating. Waiting, just waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“I can’t just get over it,” Morgan said, shaking his head. 

“Why not,” Joel questioned just as quietly, running a hand through his hair. 

“Because I just can’t,” Morgan threw his hands up, voice raised as he stepped forward. “I can’t stop thinking that my feelings are a waste. That all of this is just a waste.”

“All of this?” You asked, uncomprehending.

“Yes, all of this,” he told you, gesturing wildly between the three of you. “Us. This. It’s a waste.”

“What’s that supposed to mean, Morgan,” Joel was the one to ask this time, his voice low and daring. Daring Morgan to say it, to tell you exactly what he means.

“That I look at both of you and see two people who are going to leave me. Two people that I care about, that I want to be with, and know that it won’t last.”

The shock that came from him admitting his feelings and finally giving you the knowledge that you weren’t alone in your pining all these months still wasn’t enough to overwhelm the rest of his confession. The part that said that we were a waste, that cut a part of you that you kept hidden.

“Did you ever stop and think about how we felt?” The words left you as you stepped away, needing to get away. “That we might, for just a second, feel the same?” 

“But it doesn’t matter,” Morgan nearly cried, voice shaking. “It never did.” 

Nodding, you swallowed down tears. “Okay,” you whispered, maneuvering around Joel, who had remained quiet. “Okay.” 

“Where are you going?” Morgan asked, reaching toward you.

Nearly laughing, you told him, “Away. I’m sorry, Joel, but I can’t be near someone who thinks everything about us, our friendship, our relationship, our feelings, are a waste. Not right now.”

Joel nodded, glancing back at you and offering a weak smile. “Don’t worry, I get it.” 

Returning it, you turned and went to grab your things. 

“Wait,” you heard Morgan before you saw him try to follow you, looking between you and Joel. “No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

“It doesn’t matter, Morg,” you whispered, shrugging lightly. “I’m gonna go for awhile. I need to go.”

“No, please—”

Dodging him, you left the apartment. Vaguely, you heard Joel tell Morgan to stop, to let you go. Silently, you thanked him. You just couldn’t be near them right now, constantly reminded of your feelings and knowing at least one of them thought it was all useless.

All of this is just a waste. Us. This.

You nearly ran out of the building and to your car, just barely making it in before a yell forced its way out.

“Fuck,” you hit the steering wheel, letting your head droop forward to rest on it. You gave yourself a minute to pull yourself together and turn your car on, starting your journey back to the apartment you had slowly considered home less and less. 

And so you drove away from the one you had begun to consider home, and from the boys that made it feel like that, and to the place you could finally let yourself break down.

~

Day after day became a week and then two. There was now this tension between him and Morgan, you weren’t replying to his texts the same way, and he wasn’t even sure if you and Morgan had talked at all since that night. He hated it.

Joel hated this. 

It didn’t help that everything was bleeding over onto the ice and he couldn’t stop it. Couldn’t stop making rookie mistakes, couldn’t do anything when Morgan got yelled at for fucking up on a play. Couldn’t do anything.

The two of them were this close to getting benched, they both knew it. He knew this couldn’t keep happening, but he didn’t know how to stop it. 

He saw his phone light up on his nightstand out of the corner of his eye. Mentally, he debated leaving it and continuing his inner dilemma, but a glance at it convinced him otherwise.

Sitting up in bed, he struggled against the blankets tangled around his legs to reach over and grab it. He crashed back down, lifting his phone above him and pulling up the text.

[10:38pm] armrest ; coffee tomorrow? 

Seeing the name he had you under brought out a grin. You hated it the moment you saw it and argued that everyone was short next to a group of hockey players, which is exactly why both he and Morgan had you listed as it. In a sense, it was a reminder of better times.

[10:40pm] bumblebee ; yea ofc

[10:40pm] bumblebee ; the two of us?

He didn’t miss the fact that you texted just him and not the groupchat—the one aptly named the 3 stoiges, because Morgan made it with a typo and you and Joel kept it there to bully him. Time after time, Morgan tried to change it, and yet every time he went back, there it was once again in all of its dumbass glory. 

[10:43pm] armrest ; yea i wanted to talk about everything. just the two of us for now

[10:44pm] bumblebee ; im there just lmk when

You texted him back the time, and that was that. The entire exchange left him feeling underwhelmed and anxious. It felt wrong. Stilted. He missed the jokes and subtle digs at each other. The goodnight texts that just kept on going. 

He had a hard time going to sleep after that, not that he was doing a good job of it before. Tossing and turning, knowing that his teammate was his roommate and just a door over and that it didn’t matter because they hadn’t actually talked since the fight. And probably wouldn’t, since that was how things seemed to be going.

But tomorrow, maybe tomorrow would change things.

~

Morning came and went and he woke up to his alarm, feeling the opposite of well rested. He had slept like shit, just like he had been for the past two weeks. Getting out of bed, he got ready to go meet up with you, ignoring the absence of Morgan in the kitchen or on the couch. The lack of a good morning and a smile from his arguably favorite teammate. 

He left the apartment in a rush, something he had found himself doing a lot of lately. Not on purpose, he didn’t think. It was just like a lot of other things in his life now; it felt different. Less warm, duller. Void of life, of everything that made it home to him. 

An open bag of peach rings still abandoned on the kitchen counter, never moved. A little shittily made origami crane knocked over on the coffee table, never fixed. Hoodies missing, never returned. Reminders.

He made it to the little rinky dink cafe on the corner soon enough, refusing to admit he hesitated a bit before he went in. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen you at all since that night, but he would be lying if he said it was the same as before. 

You were at their usual table, wearing a recognizable sweatshirt—one of theirs, but at this point he wasn’t really sure if it his or Morgan’s—and clutching a cup in your hands with a cup sitting across from you. Hearing the bell ring, you looked up and spotted him, giving him a tiny smile.

He didn’t want to think about the way the sight made the tension bleed from his body, the familiarity filling him with a rush of warmth. He made the short walk to you, slipping into one of the open seats.

Both of you ignored the still empty third seat.

“You’re late,” you told him, with just enough of a smile to take the edge off. 

He grinned back. “You telling me you weren’t, too?”

Your laughter rang softly through the mostly empty cafe. “No.”

“Thought so,” he replied, taking a sip of the coffee in front of him. His go to order, just the way he always got it. 

God, he missed you. 

A few beats of silence passed with the two of you just soaking up the other’s presence. 

Clearing your throat, you looked down at your hands and picked at your nail. “I think it’s probably time we talk about…”

“That night?” he finished for you. “Yea. I think so, too.”

Another pained smile passed between both of you. Another beat of silence. 

“You know—I mean—” you tried to say, taking a moment to close your eyes and take a deep breath. “I care about you and Morgan. About both of you. Not—not platonically either.” 

He couldn’t stop the smile from spreading, the heat creeping into his cheeks. “Yea, I figured.” You deadpanned at him and he had to resist the laugh bubbling up inside of him. He nudged your foot under the table. “Me, too. Non-platonically care about both of you.” 

“Yea,” you rolled your eyes, grinning, “I figured.”

Letting the laugh out, he shook his head. “Ass.”

You shrugged, taking a sip of your drink, “You started it.”

“I missed you.” 

“I missed you, too,” you whispered back, smile gaining a sorrowful edge.

Staring at you, he felt so many emotions. So many things, and yet something was still missing. 

Licking his lips, he risked a glance to his right, at the empty seat next to him. “It doesn’t—things don’t really feel the same without him, though.” 

“Yea,” you looked at the chair for a second, pain flashing across your face so fast he almost didn’t catch it. “They don’t.”

Hearing you agree, he let the breath he had been holding go. He picked at his cup, resisting the urge to down it. Dimly, he realized you had gotten his coffee before he got there. Which meant you bought it for him. The broke college student who rarely gets anything from here got him coffee without thinking twice. That feeling in his chest grew, fondness for you radiating throughout him. It was a small gesture, one you probably barely thought about, but it made him fall even harder.

“You know, I keep,” you stopped, tilting your head with a jaded smile before steamrolling on, “I keep hearing him say it in my head. ‘Everything’s a waste.’ And I know he didn’t—didn’t mean it like that, but…”

“But it still hurts,” he finished for you quietly, watching you and the way your shoulders hunched forward. 

“Yea, it still hurts.”

“We’re all just miserable anymore, aren’t we?” he asked, knowing the answer and asking anyway.

You laughed softly, glancing up at him. “That we are.”

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”

“No,” you held eye contact, steady and intent, “It wasn’t.”

The bell above the door jingled, your conversation dying down. The two of you nursed your drinks, avoiding the painful subject. Pushing it off and dragging it out just a little more.

“I don’t want us to end here, Joel,” you told him, voice barely a whisper. “Not like this. I don’t think I could handle it.”

“I don’t think I could either,” he replied. He could handle not being everything he wanted with the two of you. He resigned himself to that a long time ago. Could handle not being in a relationship, unable to hold or kiss either of you, to look at you and know both of you were his.

He could handle that. What he couldn’t handle? 

This. 

These past two weeks, the three of you barely talking. The tension, the awkwardness, the lack of everything that made you work. Not having either of you really, truly, in his life anymore. 

“I’m gonna talk to him,” he told you, not letting himself think too hard about it. He nodded, ignoring your unreadable expression, and kept talking. “I’m gonna talk to him and then we’re gonna—we’re gonna—”

“We’re gonna fix things?” You croaked out, gnawing at the inside of your bottom lip.

“Yea,” his throat tightened, making him force out the words, “Yea, we’re gonna fix things.”

~

He cornered Morgan later that night in the kitchen when he finally came out of his room to get something to eat. 

“We need to talk.”

Morgan jumped, keeping his back turned to Joel as he dug through the fridge. “About what?” He asked, the forced casualness of it shining clear.

“I think you know what.”

He slowly drew himself up and closed the fridge. “I don’t think—”

“Yea, we do,” he cut his roommate off, his arms folded across his chest. “We both know we do.”

Morgan turned around, facing him with his eyes closed and shaking his head. “Please—”

“We can’t keep going on like this, none of us can,” Joel forcibly told him, refusing to back down. He was doing this for them, for you and for Morgan and for him. “I was with Y/N earlier.”

Morgan flinched back, ducking his head. “Yea? How—how is—”

“Good,” he softened his voice, uncrossing his arms and taking a step toward him. “Come on, let's go sit down.”

“Okay,” Morgan whispered, nodding and following him slowly to the couch. They sat further away than they usually would, a space left open for the one not there with them. 

Joel opened his mouth to start, but Morgan cut him off before he could.

“I’m so sorry,” he told him, avoiding eye contact. Clenching his hands tightly on his lap, he squeezed them periodically. “I didn’t—didn’t mean anything I said that night. Not really. Not like that.”

“I know.” 

“I was just scared,” he kept going, still not looking at him, “I still am. Fuck, I wish I could go back and just—”

“Morgan,” Joel stopped him, getting up and moving to sit down on the table in front of him. “Look at me.”

It took a second, took him reaching out and nudging his face toward him. 

“We know. We’re all scared. And we can’t take back what was said, but we can move forward. Together. The three of us.” 

Morgan shook his head, tears lining his eyes as he leaned imperceptibly into his hand. “How?” 

He almost laughed, but stopped himself in time. “I don’t know,” he shrugged helplessly, smiling at him. “But we will. Because we care about each other. That’s all that matters.”

“Yea?” 

“Yea,” he laughed this time, his hand pressing further into Morgan’s face, the other coming up to rest on his knee. 

Morgan’s hand found his, and they stayed like that for a while, taking comfort in finally being near each other again. Mentally, physically. 

“I missed this,” Morgan told him, blinking softly up at him. 

Joel grinned back, “Well, I don’t know if we’ve ever done anything like this before, but—”

Morgan scoffed, rolling his eyes and pushing him away. One of his hands came up to subtly wipe at his eyes and Joel pretended not to notice as he reached out and pulled him back to him. 

Hand threaded in his hair, he tugged him in to rest his head against his neck. “Kidding,” he laughed, turning to nuzzle into Morgan’s hair. “But seriously, I did, too.”

Morgan’s hand squeezed his side, the two of them lapsing back into silence. At least, until he broke it.

“So, which one of us is gonna text our better part?” 

~

[8:17pm] frostbite ; come over?

The text from Morgan lit your phone screen and sent your heart into a steady gallop. You knew Joel was going to talk to him, but for some reason, you hadn’t thought it would be so soon. 

Was it bad that you didn’t feel ready?

Honestly, if you thought about it, you didn’t think you would ever feel ready. In a way, this was the buildup of months of dancing around each other. It was terrifying, that tonight everything would be out in the open.

You would be lying if you said a part of you couldn’t wait.

[8:19pm] armrest ; omw over

Rushing around, you put on shoes and threw back on the hoodie you were wearing earlier when you saw Joel. You grabbed your keys and locked the door behind you, making your way to your car. 

The drive to their apartment was short, though it still took everything in you to obey the traffic laws on the way there. The walk up filled you with even more anxiety, your hands shaking despite your best attempts to settle your nerves.

You knocked lightly on their door, unable to manage more than a mediocre tap. Luckily, it was Joel that opened the door, beckoning you inside with a hand on your waist. He pressed a kiss to the side of your head, sending heat into your cheeks.

“He’s in the kitchen making tea,” Joel told you, closing the door behind you. 

You nodded, dropping your keys onto the Gritty tray. Together, you made your way to the kitchen. 

Seeing Morgan for the first time in two weeks, after not having spoken at all was...was strange. It hit you like a fist to the gut. 

You saw how exhausted Joel looked earlier, disheveled and messy. But compared to Morgan, he looked only a bit different from usual. Morgan, though—

He looked rough. 

Heavy bags under his eyes, hair wild, clothes wrinkled. Even his shoulders were hunched in more than usual. Your heartstrings tugged just looking at him. 

“Hey,” he mumbled when he looked up and saw you, mustering up a weak smile. 

Slowly, you made your way to where he stood. He set down the cup of tea he was reaching out to offer you, worry plastered on his face.

He took a deep breath and started to talk, “Look, I’m so sor—”

You caused him to stop mid-sentence, throwing your arms around him and gripping tight. “You’re such an asshole,” you told him, voice muffled in his shirt. Burying your face deeper, his arms came up and wrapped tightly around you.

“I know,” he said, laying his head on yours, “I’m so sorry.” 

You didn’t respond, taking the moment to really let everything sink in. Giving him one last squeeze, you let go and stepped back, picking up the mug that you claimed as yours on one of your first visits.

“Living room?” you asked, smiling at the two of your boys—because you finally let yourself give in and call them that, because they were yours and you didn’t plan on letting go so easily. 

“Living room, it is,” Joel answered, reaching around to grab his mug and guide you over. Morgan followed behind, staying close. 

Like none of you could bear to be more than a few feet anymore. It was just a tad ironic at this point. 

The three of you settled down in your usual seats, with you in the middle, Joel to your right, and Morgan on the left. You put your tea down after taking a sip, smiling when it tasted exactly how Morgan always makes it for you. 

“So, I guess this is where we talk about everything,” Morgan said, putting his cup down next to yours and turning to face the two of you. 

Joel followed suit, nodding. “That it is.”

For a second, the three of you sat there in silence, looking around at each other. 

“Any volunteers to go first?” You ventured finally, raising your eyebrows. Your question earned you a pair of laughs. 

“I’m the one that started this mess, so I’ll go, I guess.” Morgan darted his tongue out to lick his lips, glancing between the two of you. 

“That night, I let my fear take over. And I know I’ve already told both of you, but I’m sorry.”

“Morgan,” you tried, but he stopped you. 

“Let me talk,” he smiled, so you let him. “At that point, I just really let myself consider that I had feelings for the two people I thought of as my closest friends. And it made me scared, because there are soulmates out there and I know—I think—I don’t have one. But as far as I knew, both of you did. The thought of losing you to someone I had no chance against, it made me lash out. 

That was wrong. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. We’re adults, mostly, and I should’ve handled it better. I’m sorry.”

You were aware you were gaping a little, but you were unsure on how to stop. Joel got his bearings back before you.

“Yea, you definitely handled it like shit,” he said, shrugging and getting a snort out of you and a ‘fucking hell’ from Morgan. “But it is what it is. It got the ball rolling and we can’t go back. We can only go on.”

“When the fuck did you get good at talking about your feelings?” You turned to him, an incredulous look on your face. “Seriously, you were like the last person I expected to be spouting off relationship wisdom.”

“What can I say,” he grinned, “I’m a man of wisdom. Isn’t that why you care about me non-platonically?”

“Why do I like you,” Morgan muttered to himself, covering his eyes, “Literally why.”

“Moving on,” you announced, choking back a laugh, “On the subject of soulmates, as far as I’m aware, I don’t have one either, so there’s that. And right now, I don’t know if me having one would even stop me from wanting to at least see if this is something worth having. Which I think it is.”

“Yea, I remember you mentioning the soulmate lack,” Joel nodded, “And I agree, with the second part.”

Bumping his shoulder, you went to pick up your tea. 

“So that’s two out of three?” Morgan asked, looking at both of you.

“Make that three out of three,” Joel butted in, raising his hand. “Like 99% sure I don’t either.”

“So none of us have soulmates?” You looked between Morgan and Joel. “Really?”

“Lucky?” Morgan hazarded a guess. 

“I’ll take it.” Joel grinned.

“And to clarify, there are mutual feelings here? Threeway feelings?” 

“Don’t—don’t call it that,” you replied to Morgan, wincing. “That’s just bad.”

“I don’t know,” Joel told you, grinning, “I like it. Threeway Feelings. New groupchat name?”

“Yes.”

“No.” 

You glared at Morgan, repeating, “No, motion overruled.”

“You’re two to one,” Joel teased.

Smiling sweetly back, you told him, “Cute that you think this is a democracy.”

Laughter rang through the apartment. It was almost like the past two weeks had never happened at all. 

“But let me clarify,” Joel started, sitting up straighter and holding up a hand, fingers up, “All of us think we’re soulmate-less, and even if we’re not, it’s something we’ll deal with when we get there,” one finger down, “All of us have feelings for the other two people in this room,” another finger, “and we’re not dating yet?”

“Correct,” you confirmed.

“Sounds about right so far,” Morgan nodded.

“But we should, though,” Joel said, glancing at you, “Date, I mean. It’s the next logical step, right?”

“Kinda worrying when he uses logic,” you leaned over to stage whisper to Morgan. 

He nodded, leaning close, “I agree.”

“I’m right here, jackasses,” Joel threw a throw pillow at Morgan, apparently taking the name literally. 

“Were you? I couldn’t tell,” Morgan replied sarcastically, throwing it back. 

Closing your eyes, you sucked in a deep breath and tried not to laugh. 

“I agree with Joel, though,” you told them, stopping them in their tracks. “About dating.”

“You wanna date us?” Morgan asked you, Joel pointing at him to back up his question. 

Rolling your eyes, you smiled, “Yes, I wanna date you. Do you wanna date me?”

You felt ridiculous for asking, like a flashback to kindergarten with a note saying ‘do you like me? yes or no’.

“I don’t know, what are the options?” Joel asked, pretending to think about it.

“Yes or yes,” you deadpanned.

“I think I’m gonna have to go with yes on that one,” Morgan told you, leaning in to press a kiss to your cheek. 

“I’m gonna have to go with yes, as well,” Joel nodded, kissing your other cheek. 

“Okay,” you tried to ignore the pulsating heat in your cheeks. 

“Wait,” Morgan stopped, clearing his throat and looking over at Joel, “Are we? I mean—”

“Dating?” Joel asked, lips quirking into a soft smile. 

Morgan nodded, staying quiet. 

Joel shook his head and laughed, “Yea, I think I could manage dating both of you.”

“Yea?” Morgan smiled. 

“Yea.” Joel returned it.

“Cool,” Morgan said, running a hand through his hand before stopping and frowning. “I know that all of that shitshow was my fault, but we’re never doing that again, right?”

“Oh, seconded,” you immediately replied, “Never again.”

“Thirded,” Joel agreed, nodding wholeheartedly.

You looked at your boys—now officially yours—and smiled. 

~

Their first date, it was decided, would be dinner at Morgan and Joel’s apartment, just the three of them. Private, no pressure. 

You showed up, dressed up but not too much, as per Joel’s vague instructions, at 8pm on the dot, making it the only time you were ever on time for something. You liked to think that if it wasn’t at your boys’ apartment, they’d be late, too.

“Well, don’t you look lovely,” Morgan let you in, bending to kiss your hairline. 

“I could say the same for you,” you replied, taking him in, pressing a kiss to his chin.

Not the usual pre-game suit, you noticed, unable to decide if it was disappointment or relief in your stomach. He was clad in a nice pair of pants, his dark blue button up undone at the top and the sleeves rolled up to his forearms. Sans shoes, because of course.

On the whole, a very nice look, in your humble opinion.

He noticed your glance down at his lack of footwear and grinned, “Footwear optional.”

“You should’ve mentioned that sooner,” you groaned, bending down to remove your own shoes that had already begun to pinch at your toes. 

He laughed, waiting for you to finish and take his hand, leading you to the kitchen. 

Joel waited for you there, bent over a pot on the stove. Shirt completely unbuttoned, tie hanging around his neck. Shaking your head, you stepped up behind him to wrap your arms around his back, kissing his shoulder blade. 

“Who let you be in charge of dinner?” You teased, catching his eye as he turned around in your embrace to return it. 

“Say the word and we’ll order pizza,” he whispered back into your ear, lips lightly brushing it.

A tingle ran down your spine as you withdrew, sharing a secret smile and ignoring Morgan’s snort. 

“I’m sure it’s not that bad,” you told him, leaning against a counter. 

A laugh bubbled up and out of you at Morgan’s subtle wince. “Dinner’s just about done, anyway. Guess we’ll find out,” he said, getting out a few plates. 

“So, what exactly is on the menu?” You questioned, unable to quite tell. 

Joel looked up at you, opening his mouth and closing it quickly. “You know,” he answered, hand bracing on the countertop, “I’m not sure if I can pronounce it right.”

Giggles flew out of you even as you felt a sense of apprehension take over. “This is gonna be good.”

Sharing a laugh, you got to work setting the table and bringing over the food, which you cautiously noted smelled somewhat decent. Not—not really entirely good, but decent.

“Not gonna lie,” Joel told both of you once everyone was seated with a plate, “Kinda scared to eat this.”

“You’re really not filling me with confidence here, babe,” you replied, getting a tiny forkful of food. 

“On three?” Morgan proposed. 

“On three,” you and Joel agreed. 

“One,” you started.

“Two,” Joel continued.

“Three.”

You shoved the food into your mouth, barely giving yourself a moment to reconsider. Slowly, you chewed, watching your boyfriends’ faces.

It seemed the general consensus was…not good. 

“I think we fucked up somewhere,” Joel swallowed loudly, grimacing.

“Oh, we definitely did,” Morgan agreed, pushing back his chair and standing. “I’ll get my phone.”

“Pizza?”

“Pizza.”

~

“We’re only here to get essentials,” Morgan reminded the two of you, grabbing a cart. 

You and Joel followed behind, hands swinging between your bodies. “Yea, totally,” you smiled, “Essentials.”

“Of course,” Joel nodded gravely, before turning to you and whispering, “We’re definitely getting the stuff for ice cream sundaes, right?”

Giggling, you nudged into him. “He said essentials, Joel. Obviously, we’re getting the stuff for ice cream sundaes.”

“I can hear both of you, you know,” Morgan called back, looking over his shoulder at the pair of you. 

You shot him a smile and blew him a kiss, knowing Joel was beside you doing something just as cheesy.

The next thing you knew, Joel was speeding up and dragging you along to catch up to your other boyfriend. “I’m getting in,” he dropped your hand, lifting a leg over the side of the cart. 

“No—Joel—oh my god,” Morgan tried to jerk the cart away, laughter spilling out of him.

“Joel, you’re not getting in the cart,” you shoved him, blissfully ignoring the stares coming from the old lady down the aisle. 

Joel pouted exaggeratedly, turning to face you. “Why not?”

In a quick motion, you propelled yourself into the cart. “Because I am!” Your giggles came out maniacal, joined with Joel’s bark of laughter and Morgan’s groan of disappointment. 

“Where’s the food gonna go?” Morgan asked, continuing to push the cart with you in it. 

“In the cart with Y/N,” Joel told him, bumping lightly into his shoulder with a grin. 

You pointed at Joel, agreeing. 

Morgan shook his head, that exasperated fondness prevalent on his face as he sighed and tried not to smile. “Fine,” he relented. 

~

“You know, that monkey kinda looks like you,” Morgan overheard you tell Joel as he paid for the cotton candy. 

“You’re such an ass,” Joel pushed you, laughing. 

“Speaking of asses,” Morgan said, coming up behind you and handing over the cotton candy, “Do you think they have donkeys here?”

You threw your head back with a loud laugh. 

“This is the zoo,” Joel replied, grabbing his hand, “...I actually don’t know. We should check.”

“In the whole zoo, you want to see donkeys?” You asked in bemusement, leaning into him. 

He shrugged, wrapping his unoccupied arm around you. “What can I say, I’m a man with taste.”

“Oh, for sure,” Joel retorted, snorting and squeezing his hand in his own.

~

Limbs tangled, you relaxed on the couch with your boys.

A book in one hand, you carded your fingers through Joel’s hair with the other. Sprawled across your lap as you rested against Morgan, he was the perfect image of relaxation. Rain pattered against the windows as a romcom played in the background, the volume just low enough to zone out. Morgan and Joel—okay, just Morgan, because you were pretty sure Joel was half asleep at this point—were watching, attention set on the tv.

All in all, an excellent night. 

~

Seeing your boys over the summer was difficult, but you made it work. You always did.

It was one of those incredibly rare days where you lounged about in the midsummer heat with them, Morgan and Joel taking a slight break from offseason training to just be together. It was nice, and it was quiet and exactly what you needed. 

You had made the mistake of putting on one of their thinner, more threadbare hoodies last night and the decision was catching up to you. You untangled yourself from the pile of limbs on the bed belonging to your two boyfriends, ignoring their cries of protest, and just barely managed to get up. 

First, you were gonna turn up the air conditioning, and then you were gonna take off this damn hoodie. 

Meandering over to the A/C, you accomplished one mission and moved on to the next one. Pulling the hoodie over your head, you felt your shirt slide up and refuse to separate from it. 

“Hey,” you heard Joel call from behind you, “Did you get a tattoo without telling us?”

Confused, you yanked the hoodie the rest of the way off and turned back to them. “No?” You answered, but it came out less sure than you would’ve liked. 

“I definitely saw something on your back,” Joel insisted, reaching over and swatting at Morgan to get his attention. 

“Hmm?” Morgan grumbled, switching sides to look at you. 

“Come here,” Joel beckoned, an action you reluctantly obeyed. His hand on your hip turned you to face away from him, your back in his line of sight.

You shivered, feeling his fingers glide across your skin as he lifted your shirt. In an instant, you felt his grasp waver, a choked gasp slamming out of him.

“Holy shit,” Morgan breathed, the bed creaking as he shot up. 

Spinning, you turned to face them, grabbing at your back. “What?” You demanded, terrified of their answer, “What it is?”

Adrenaline poured through your veins as Joel lifted his gaze, now wet with tears, to meet yours with a wide smile.

“It’s a soulmate tattoo,” he told you, standing up and cupping your face. His lips came down fast and hard to yours, the emotion behind the kiss slamming into you. 

You felt Morgan come to stand behind you, lifting your shirt to look. His fingers traced down your spine, almost reverently, sending shiver after shiver through your body. 

“Liar,” you croaked when you and Joel split, refusing to believe it. 

Joel shook his head with a disbelieving laugh, “I’m not. Go look in the mirror.”

You pulled away, making your way slowly to the mirror by the door, your boys close behind. You twisted around, craning your head as you pulled up your shirt. Your breath stilled to a halt when scrawled writing along your spine become visible out of the corner of your eye with every inch of skin shown. 

And there, once your shirt was all the way up, was an indisputable soulmate tattoo curving down your spine.

morgan frost ~ joel farabee

The names of your boys—your boys, you nearly cried—written in calligraphy on your body, separated only by three flowers. 

“Soulmates,” Morgan whispered, finger stilling on the flowers. 

Recognition sparked deep in your mind, a memory surfacing behind your eyes.

Your eyes lingered on the flowers lining the pathway, your mind trying futilely to identify which ones they wer—

“I know those flowers,” you mumbled, lips parting as you stared uncomprehendingly. 

Joel laughed a little, fingers running up and down your side. “I didn’t think you were into flowers.”

You shook your head, fixated and unable to look away. “No, I know those flowers. Asters. They were—”

“In the park by the cafe,” Morgan finished for you, catching on, “The day I bumped into you.”

“The day we met,” you said, smiling. “I was trying to figure out what kind they were, it’s why I was distracted. Why we—”

“Met,” Morgan gaped, a smile slowly spreading across his lips. 

You nodded, unable to talk just yet. The sight of those flowers, ones that you hadn’t really given any thought to after you had googled them one day after being curious. Flowers that were now imprinted on your body, a permanent reminder of everything you gained in such a relatively short amount of time.

To your side, you watched Joel take off his shirt and turn around, revealing flowing names down his spine separated by three dainty flowers. 

y/n ~ morgan frost

Morgan mirrored him on your other side and sure enough, there were your names in identical print and the same tiny three flowers. 

joel farabee ~ y/n

A perfect set.

~ fin ~