#him and they have an actual conversation and he can see that hes actually the one treating serizawa like a child. and that hes like a shitt | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

studiogrimm810 · 3 days ago

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pairings/characters: (pining)dean winchester x gn!reader, sam is also there

summary: in a desperate attempt to back burner his feelings for you, dean tries to fill the void with pointless sex. and goddamn does that hurt

warnings: miscommunication and clarification, not too much, ANGSTY THO and happy ending ^.^

word count: 3,265

A/N: this is a request!!! i had a blast writing this one, love me some pining winchesters heheh. to get added to my tag list just send me an ask!! <3

(p.s. i realize this story set up isn’t exactly how it was worded in the request and i’m so sorry i’m just now noticing this T.T,, if you want a redo, pls lmk and i’ll correct my ways. okay ily)

———————

Light conversation murmurs over a steady 80s country song selected on the jukebox of this oddly cozy dive bar. Another successful hunt, with the help of your beloved Winchesters, lead the trio to celebrate amongst a round of drinks. The past few weeks, you’ve been tagging along for hunt after hunt and have really enjoyed the time with the boys. However, the closer proximity to the older brother only worsens the ache in your chest.

You watch him now as he throws back an amber shot of burning whiskey. His face hardens in a subtle growl at the sting as he slams the empty glass down. You follow his lead, letting the pungent liquid scrape down your throat and settle into your stomach, already warming with alcohol.

“Damn, they’ve got some cheap whiskey,” Dean blows out air through tight lips, cringing at the lingering singe of the alcohol. You nod, eyes scrunched in disgust.

“Whiskey is all pain, next time it’s vodka,” you declare, shaking off the burn and taking a swig of your less threatening house ale.

“Vodka is a young man’s game. Weak,” Dean mocks, taking a few fries from the communal basket in the middle.

“Are you so insecure that you have to validate your drunkenness with the more painful whiskey? Vodka drunk is where it’s at, I’m sick of pretending it’s not,” you shrug, taking a few fries as well.

Sam just chuckles at your bickering, tapping his fingers with the beat for the song. After back-to-back cases like this, you’ve noticed Sam is more inclined to let loose and relax with you and Dean.

The waitress comes back to the table and your body tenses as Dean's eyes trace her curves, landing on her face.

“Hey, sweetheart, can we get another round?” Dean holds up his empty shot glass. You force your gaze away, trying to ignore the sizzling discomfort under your skin.

There’s a few lines exchanged between the two and you have to bite your tongue to keep your emotion off your face.

Soft footsteps echo away and you look up to see Dean's eyes lingering for a beat too long. You try to ignore the ache in your chest, it’s not your place to feel so strongly for Dean. He’s not yours to call you own and you have no right to feel as blindingly jealous as you do when he throws his fucking googly eyes at a girl you couldn’t beat in a lineup.

It doesn’t stop the way the pain halts your lungs though because you’re still forced to watch the man you love ogle the most beautiful woman in the room.

“God, I could use a night to just unwind,” Dean hints into his beer, taking a sip and setting it back down with a refreshed hiss.

You don’t respond, instead taking a deep gulp of your ale, trying to drown the words so close to crawling out of your throat. Part of the burnout you’re starting to experience has fallen victim to Dean and his goddamn charm. He can’t help but flirt with anything shiny, it’s his nature, but you wished he thought you were someone worth flirting with.

And unfortunately, what you didn’t know was that it killed Dean to have you around like this. The pent up tension of having you so close makes him itch. He wants so desperately to give into the pull he feels between you two but he’s scared. Actually scared of making you uncomfortable or messing it up. So instead he deflects all of his affection he pleads to shower you with and points at whoever else is in his line of sight. It barely keeps him contained.

Another hour or so passes and you’re drunk enough to feel the absence of pain for the man next to you. Dean is drunk enough to pretend the pretty waitress can spackle the crevasse you’ve cracked into his sternum.

As Dean bids a goodnight and charms the waitress into an early cut, you chug the rest of your ale and turn to Sam.

“Are you present enough to drive us back to the motel?” You ask, fluttering a toothpick between your fingers.

“You got it,” Sam sits up, pulling out a wad of cash and planting it on the table, taking one last swig of his water and- well, you don’t remember him ordering a water- leading you out the front door that Dean and the mystery woman disappeared through just a few minutes ago.

You toss Sam your keys, Dean having taken the Impala, and climb into your passenger seat, letting the soft hum of the radio melt your mind.

Sam helps you into the motel, you may have drunk past your feelings tonight. You claim Dean's bed as your own since he won’t be here tonight, it’s the least he owes you- soberly though, you knew that’s not true.

“You good, can I get you anything?” Sam asks, untying his shoes and loosening his flannel.

“Nah, ‘M good,” you shake your head, sitting up and taking off your uncomfortable layers. You successfully get down to your undershirt and jeans, stretching your sore muscles.

“You can always talk to me, yaknow,” Sam says passively as he digs in his duffle, pretending to look for something. He knows you, and he knows that you aren’t openly ready to ever share your deeper feelings so he tries not to make a big deal out of it but he wants to offer his support regardless.

“You’re too kind, Sam,” your breathy voice flows out as you settle in the bed. “Just a little frustrated. Don’t worry about it,” you say, settling into the cushion. Sam wants to press but leaves it be. He cares for you and he recognizes how stupid his brother is being, but unfortunately there isn’t anything else he can do other than offer his moral support.

With lack of overthinking anxieties for the bright green eyes that stain your lids, sleep takes you easy.

———

The next morning, god is kind as she doesn’t punish you with a hangover but instead a dry mouth and the need to piss like a racehorse. With such a quick dash to the bathroom, you don’t notice Dean passed out on the couch.

Handling your business, you follow up with brushing your hair, teeth, and washing your hands and face- readying yourself for the day.

You trudge to the kitchenette sink and go through two glasses of water before slowing down and turning to finally notice Dean on the couch and Sam’s absence. Your heart nearly stops at the unexpected placement of bodies in the room and lack thereof. Dean is snoring peacefully and you don’t remember hearing him stumble back in this morning.

Last night. Ugh, you don’t want to think about whatever Dean got up to last night after leaving the bar.

It’s almost 10 am at this point and if you wanna make good time, you should probably leave soon. You hope Sam will be back in time for you to say goodbye, but you need space, bad, and don’t think you can hold out much longer.

You set the glass in the sink and head over to pack up your items. The rustling wakes up Dean.

“What time is it?” He asks with a groan, rubbing his eyes. You look over your shoulder at him, his sleepy voice rubbing you like kindling, filling you up quickly with haze smoke. You shake your head, trying to exhale the heat.

“9:54am to be exact,” you clear your throat, stacking some books of yours you had shown Sam yesterday morning sometime.

“God, this couch sucks,” he complains, sitting up with a grunt. Your lips, against your will, curl in amusement at his inconvenience.

“I’m sure your hot date had a bed comfortable enough,” the words feel like poison on your tongue. Your comment is meant to be lighthearted and ‘wing-man’-y but the silence indicates that it didn’t land.

“Yeah, well, I wouldn’t know,” he grumbles and you feel sick, thinking of how else they made it work. The Impala? A different motel? Hell, maybe the bar bathroom. Your thoughts full-circle back to the Impala and you’re bombarded with intrusive thoughts of how many men or women he’s taken in the back of his precious possession. In the same seats you’ve traveled in.

You start to miss the warm wave of alcohol in your belly. You need to be far from this man.

You don’t entertain the comment.

“What’re you doing?” He asks, looking lazily at your items as they’re shoved loosely in your duffle that’s on its last leg.

“Thinkin’ of heading west, maybe hit the strip, try and rack up some cash,” you say, trying to remain casual.

“Sammy’s got another lead,” Dean says, confused like you had forgotten about the suspicious deaths across state.

“And you two are more than capable, I believe in you,” you look over your shoulder and scrunch your nose in a joking manner. He’s not amused.

“You can’t just ditch us,” he stands, crossing his arms over his chest. That caught you off guard.

“Ditch you?” You scoff, turning to face him. “I’m not ditching you, I just have other matters to attend to,” you argue, tilting your head in anger.

“Oh what, betting your $200 and busting? We both know you suck at gambling. You’d be better off taking a handful out a damn wishing well,” he rolls his eyes, shaking his head.

“Oh shut up, I’m entitled to time for myself,” you defend, attitude spitting off of you in waves.

“‘Entitled’- that’s one word I’d use,” he squints, seething in anger. You drop your jaw and spin around, slamming items into your bag with impressive speed.

The air is thick and if your own anger wasn’t buzzing so loud in your chest you’d be able to sense his regret. You zip the bag, avoiding him on your way to the bathroom to retrieve your toiletries bag.

He calls your name as you pass him but your feet don’t react like your stuttering heart does.

“I’m sorry,” he sighs, annoyed with his own burst of anger.

“Whatever, Dean,” you deadpan, grabbing your smaller bag and walking around Dean again, his eyes stay on you like a sunflower in the presence of the sun.

“Just- slow down,” he practically begs, “what is up with you?” He asks, face softened and eyes warm as he tries to figure you out.

“Nothing of your concern,” you state simply, hooking the bag on your arm and slinging the other on your back. You turn to head to the door but Dean sidesteps your track and you bump into his chest. He hands land on your biceps, steadying you. His face is mere inches from yours and you can practically taste that half handful of mints Dean chowed on on his way back to the motel- whenever that was.

“Talk to me,” it’s more of a demand, but his voice is so sweet when he says it- he practically lures it out of you.

“I can’t stand it,” your voice betrays you. Fucking betrays you as it spills out your stupid little thoughts. You snap your jaw shut and turn away, trying not to let the pebbling goosebumps from his radiating heat take over your skin. As if you could even stop them if you tried.

His head tilts and his sparkling eyes search yours. They’re like green apple Jolly Ranchers. So crystal and so sweet. You’re in it now.

“Can’t stand what?” His first concern is that he’s made you uncomfortable in some way and it makes his hold on you loosen as his confidence drains in that fear. He’s tried so unbelievably hard to make sure his feelings for you weren’t overwhelmingly obvious. He had never felt for someone like he felt for you. He didn’t want to woo you and make you melt with a simple smirk- he couldn’t, as far as he could tell. Just like he couldn’t use his charm to cover his cavern of self-loathing from your view, and he couldn’t put on the façade that he would for any other interest of his. Maybe it was respect, maybe it was fear, he just hoped it wasn’t love.

“You,” the word takes an entire lungful of breath to get out, deflating you like an exhausted pufferfish, sick of pretending to be some big-bad to deter prying eyes. Especially the emerald ones that make you salivate.

Your single word hurts him. His grip on you vanished like he was stung from the touch and he took a step back. He’s wounded.

“I just need some space,” it’s still a lungful of breath but at least this puff is more efficient than the former. He’s speechless, he doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t want to argue- he can’t. He knows the burden he is on others and for you, of all people, to outwardly admit it really puts him in his place.

Your eyes hold so much obvious raw emotion that if anyone else but Dean could see, they’d knock him upside the head for how dense and self obsessed he’s being.

His eyes hold so much pain at the unnoticed miscommunication on your end that someone should do the same to you. If you could both get your heads out your asses and just accept the heat- this spark between you- all would settle like sand in a calm lake.

Unfortunately, it’s hurricane season and you bypass him without a second glance as you get in your car and drive until your tears cloud your vision.

———

“And then they just left,” Dean sighs, rubbing a hand down his face. He sat on a squeaky chair supplied in the kitchenette of the generously rated 2-star motel.

“Did they say why?” Sam asked, arms crossed but one lifted to gesture as he spoke.

“It’s my fault,” Dean can’t keep the pain at bay, not even to hold up the big-brother-that-can’t- be-stung persona. He’s too distraught over your words. Well, word.

“Why? What did you do?” Sam says, his shoulders slumping with a sigh of grievance. Almost like he had expected this to be Dean's fault.

He’s quiet, shuffling through his memories, trying to pinpoint when exactly he had hurt you in such a way to cause the outburst. Was it his own words?

“Just said they couldn’t stand it. Couldn’t stand me,” Dean leans back, looking up at the ceiling. Sam’s eyes squint, a thoughtful look clouding his eyes. Once he seems to piece it together, his arms fall and he rolls his eyes.

“Dean, you’re so dense,” Sam pinched the bridge of his nose.

“No need to hammer it in,” Dean shrugs with both his arms and a scoff.

“No, you-. Dean, think about it,” Sam presses, shifting on his feet. “Remember the officer you were talking up to get info for last week's case? How agitated they got? And what about last night- that waitress you took home. Dean, they care about you,” Sam lays it all out, hoping that Dean will actually take it how it's presented to him.

Dean just stared at Sam, not wanting to believe that all this time he’s been shoving down his feelings for you that have actually been mutual this whole time. That he had a chance and how he may have just ruined it.

Suddenly, he doesn’t seem to give his fear another thought. He needs to see you.

Dean doesn’t spare Sam an answer, jumping to his feet and darting out to the Impala, snatching the keys along with his jacket. He roars Baby to life and whips out his phone to check your location. Something the brothers made close friends agree to in case anything ever happened. Of course, this isn’t what was initially in mind when they implemented the rule.

Surprisingly, you’re only a 20 minute drive by now- some diner in the next town. He wasted no time.

Oh, by the way, one of the great skills in Dean Winchester's self-proclaimed ‘Ego Arsenal��? Cutting drives down by at least 20% in desperate situations, sometimes 30% if traffic is forgiving.

He sees your car on the far end of the lot. You’re rustling through the trunk and you look sporadic. Screeching tires alert you to the fresh presence of the Impala and your stomach flips.

“Dean?” You ask, straightening up from your trunk and hoping to seem calm and collected- as if you didn’t just get done crying your eyes out for a love that will never be in your hands.

“I’m an idiot,” Dean stumbles out of the barely parked car, not bothering with latching the door. “I didn’t sleep with her,” he’s breathing heavily but that doesn’t stop him from coming right up to you.

“What?” You ask, completely lost.

“The waitress- I couldn’t,” he shakes his head, breath hitting your face. Damn, he got close.

“Why would-?”

“I couldn’t- because of you,” his sentences are patchy but it almost seems like it’s because his thoughts are so disorganized and not due to the panting breaths.

You’re silenced. Is he blaming you? Is he upset with you? You did nothing- that you recall- that would’ve gotten in the way of him and her. You open your mouth to argue but he’s quick to eat your words as his lips crash into yours, holding you still with both hands on your face. His palms practically suffocate you with how much ground they cover but you couldn’t think enough to care.

He steps as close as he can, pressing his body into yours. His arms are at a more awkward angle for how he’s still holding you but he doesn’t seem to care. Almost afraid that if he lets go then you’ll melt through his abandoned hold and disappear from his life forever. He can’t risk it.

He kisses you until he’s breathless again, pulling away in time for his vision to not threaten giving out on him.

He plants his forehead against yours, breath dusting your face as he just takes in the way your skin ignites his own.

“Where the hell did that come from?” You finally ask, your legs a little weak and thanking god that he’s got a hold on you.

“I couldn’t take it anymore,” he scoffs a simple laugh with a smirk, his eyes still closed. “Just couldn’t stand it,” he teases, eyes still closed. Maybe if he doesn’t open them he won’t have to risk this being a dream.

You press your lips into his again, a sweeter kiss of adoration for his simple joke, as if you two already have your own bit.

“I’m sorry. I never even realized that-,” he sighs, finally opening his eyes and pulling away enough to fully appreciate your face. “I never realized what I felt for you was what it is.” He likes being close enough to admire the blemishes of your skin- freckles, hints of wrinkles, a scar along your temple.

“And what’s that?” You ask, face splayed with a teasing smirk but on the inside you feel like a preteen watching the bouncing bubbles that proceed a romantic text you were bold enough to send.

“Infatuation,” you’re almost convinced he invented the word on the spot with how much emotion he fit into a few syllables.

And although the look he’s dawning is pure and adorning, a neon spark behind his mossy glass shows a devious excitement. God, you’re really in it now.

———————

thank you so much for reading!! <3

>pictures are not my own, i have the originals linked here (pinterest)

>>check out my other works here

>tags: @blossomingorchids @areswasneverhere

#supernatural #fanfiction #fandom #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester #dean winchester hurt/comfort #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester one shot #dean winchester angst #dean winchester is bi #dean winchester fanfiction #supernatural angst #spnfandom #spn fanfic

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fireinmoonshot · 1 day ago

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strawberry danishes | joaquin torres x fem!reader

Pairing: Joaquin Torres x Fem!Reader Summary: Joaquin Torres has a crush on the cute girl that comes to the coffee shop he frequents. Little does he know, you've been crushing on him too. He's never regretted eating a strawberry danish more than the day you finally come up to him and start a conversation. Warnings: TW for food/coffee etc. Word Count: 2.7k A/N: I saw Captain America: Brave New World last Friday and honestly I spent the entire time staring at Joaquin. I've loved him since TFATWS but I loved seeing more of him in this movie and I immediately wanted to write for him after but I was away for the weekend without my laptop, so literally as soon as I was home I knew I needed to start working on something for him. This was inspired by the song Coffee Cake by Benson Boone. I really hope you enjoy and please let me know if you guys want me to write more for Joaquin!

Joaquin Torres knew your coffee order before he even knew your name.

It wasn’t in a creepy way – he wasn’t stalking you or anything. The two of you just happened to frequent the same coffee shop. Whenever Joaquin was home, he had a routine of stopping by a local cafe by the park near his apartment for a coffee and a pastry after his morning run. The small cafe obviously had a place in your morning routine too.

The first time he saw you he couldn’t help but think about how gorgeous you were, and it wasn’t just the fact that the sun was shining through the window beside you, coating you in the warm, golden light. He was a fairly confident person but for some reason, he couldn’t find it in himself to approach you that day and talk to you.

He told himself that he’d do it the next time he saw you, but the next time you were in and out of the cafe so quickly he barely even saw you from his spot across the room, his mouth full of a bite of blueberry danish.

Then, work called him away and he was gone for weeks. Any time he made himself a coffee over the next few weeks, he thought of you. He was fully aware that it was probably incredibly creepy of him to be doing so – he didn’t know the first thing about you, and you had no idea who he was – but he had a crush. He had to admit that to himself.

When he was back home, he looked forward to his morning coffee more than anything simply because of the chance that he might see you. Luck happened to be in his favour, too, as when he walked in and joined the line to order, you had lined up behind him. He had no idea, of course, until he’d ordered and stepped off to the side. The poor boy had almost choked on air itself when he turned to see you ordering after him.

“Just an iced chocolate to-go, please,” you said.

It was the first time Joaquin had heard your voice and he was pretty certain that it was the actual sound of angels coming down from the heavens. He had to force himself to look away from you so he didn’t get caught staring. He was so stuck in his own head, focused on your beauty, that he didn’t even hear the barista calling his name and order out for collection.

He felt a slight tap on his shoulder and looked down to see you looking up at him.

“Hey,” Joaquin managed, his voice a little breathless. Oh, this was so embarrassing. The first thing he can think to say to you when you initiate a conversation with him and it’s hey?

You pointed towards the counter. “I think that’s your order. The barista keeps looking at you when he’s calling out Joaquin.”

Joaquin cleared his throat. “Oh, right. Thanks.” He chuckled awkwardly and moved to grab his coffee, planning to turn around afterwards and introduce himself properly. By the way, the name is Torres. Joaquin Torres. And what would your name be? Something beautiful, I’m sure.

It was probably for the best that by the time he turned around – oblivious to the death stare the barista was giving him, irritated at having to shout his name out multiple times – you had moved across the room to take a seat at a table by the window. Now it would just look weird if he was to walk all the way over to you and introduce himself. You’d excused yourself from the conversation.

Disappointed, Joaquin took a sip of his coffee and forced himself out of the cafe, berating himself in his thoughts the whole way. It was only when he’d gotten back to his apartment that he realised he’d left behind the pastry that he’d ordered alongside his coffee.

More time passed and Joaquin had been working so often he hadn’t had any time to get back to the cafe. He started to wonder if possibly this was all just nothing more than a silly crush on a passer-by. That maybe, you weren’t destined to say anything more than the words that you’d shared at the cafe that day a month ago.

Joaquin wasn’t going to stop going by his favourite cafe though. If you spoke to him, of course he’d speak back to you. But he wasn’t going to go out of his way to talk to someone that clearly wasn’t as interested in him as he was in you, judging on your past interaction.

He settled down at a table by the window, placing the plate containing his strawberry danish down in front of him. It wasn’t long before the staff brought over the coffee he’d ordered and he could dig into his danish without being interrupted. He’d missed these mornings while he’d been working. There wasn’t much else that filled him quite like the peace he had when he was in the cafe.

He wasn’t watching the door when you walked into the cafe and went to order. He was too preoccupied with his danish, taking a rather large bite of it and almost moaning at the taste of it. There was nothing as good as a danish from this place, he was sure of it.

He was still too busy eating the danish to notice you walking over to his table, a plate of your own in your hands. It was only when he noticed someone stood beside the table that he looked up, swallowing the mouthful of danish – and luckily not choking on it as his eyes settled on you. He’d assumed it might have been another member of staff, maybe they’d given him the wrong coffee, but he had not expected you.

“You’re in my seat,” you said simply, looking down at the man and trying so hardly not to smile at the sight of him, sitting there looking up at you with wide eyes and sugar all around his mouth and even on the tip of his nose.

Joaquin was lost for words and it took him a moment to find something to say. “You can sit here! I didn’t realise this was your seat. Do you want me to move? Hang on, let me just get this sugar off my hands and I’ll–”

“Hey, it’s fine. Really,” you smiled, pulling the chair out on the opposite side of the table and moving to sit down “You can stay here. Actually, I’ve kind of been waiting to have an excuse to talk to you, so thanks for sitting in my seat. Joaquin, right?”

He stared at you for a moment. “How do you know my name?” He didn’t even know your name, so how was it possible that you knew his? Unless you’d asked the barista about him… wait… you’d been waiting for an excuse to talk to him? Was his brain short circuiting? Was he dreaming? Surely he was dreaming. Under the table, he pinched the skin of his arm between his fingers… nope… not dreaming…

“Last time I saw you in here, you were spacing out and the barista was calling your name. I had to tell you that your order was being called,” you said, a little sheepishly. “I guess you don’t remember that.” Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all… he was cute, sure, but if he didn’t remember that, he clearly wasn’t as interested in you as you were in him.

Recognition sparked in Joaquin’s mind. “Oh, I do remember that! I wasn’t spacing out, I was just distracted by y– by something.” Admitting he was distracted by you was probably not the best way to start your first proper conversation. “But that makes sense now. I don’t know your name, though. I guess you listen more carefully when they call your order out.”

“I try my best,” you admitted, before introducing yourself to him properly. It was hard not to admit the fact that Joaquin was probably the cutest guy you’d ever seen, especially with the sugar on his face. “You, uh… you have some sugar on your face by the way. Here and here.” You motioned to the spots on your own face so he could tell where to wipe.

His eyes widened again as he grabbed for the napkin and started to wipe the sugar off.

“So, what were you distracted by that day?” You attempted to change the subject.

“Uhhhh…” Joaquin thought for a moment. “You know what? I actually can’t remember. It’s been a while, lots has happened between then and now, I guess.” He laughed a little. “Anyway, let’s not skip over what you said when you sat down – you’ve been looking for an excuse to talk to me? I’d like to know more about that, actually.”

He watched, intrigued and entirely enthralled by you, as you became slightly shy at his words. Like the ones you’d said had been spoken on accident and that you’d been hoping he wasn’t going to bring them up again. But if there was one thing you’d learn about Joaquin, it was that he was always going to bring up the things you thought you could forget.

“Okay, well… I’ve noticed you in the cafe a few times over the last few months and I figured we must both come here pretty often in the mornings for me to see you so often. And… well…” You trailed off, your eyes falling to the plate in front of you.

Joaquin leant forward. “You can’t just leave me on a cliffhanger.”

“I thought you were cute!” You admitted, probably a little louder than you should’ve. “I thought you were cute and I’ve been trying to get the courage to talk to you ever since I first saw you. But you haven’t been in here for a while and the last time I saw you, I chickened out of having an actual conversation with you and ran away.”

It took every part of your strength not to get up and leave the table straight away out of sheer embarrassment. Admitting to a total stranger that you thought they were cute was not the kind of thing that you usually did. But something kept drawing you to Joaquin and today you’d just been given the perfect opportunity to do something about it.

You couldn’t meet his eyes for a while, meaning you missed the look of shock on his face and the way his face gradually broke out into a smile of disbelief. You thought he was cute? He thought you were cute! Luck had somehow been on his side today.

“You think I’m cute?” Joaquin replied, a smirk on his lips and the confidence he’d been missing over the last few months whenever he was around you returning immediately.

Your eyes flickered up to his, surprised to see that he actually seemed to be happy about it. “Well, yeah…”

Joaquin couldn’t keep the stupid smile off his face. “I swear I’m not just saying this, but I’ve been trying to get the confidence to talk to you, too. I’m a confident guy but for some reason, every time I’ve seen you in here I suddenly become the least confident man on earth.”

You didn’t doubt his words. They seemed completely truthful and you knew right away that Joaquin was not the kind of guy to lie to you. He was inherently honest.

“I haven’t been in here for a while cause of work,” Joaquin continued. “I’m in the Air Force. Means I’m not home too often, so I make the most of it when I am.” He decided to leave out the part about him practically being an Avenger. That was something he could ease you into. He had a feeling that dropping the whole Oh yeah, by the way I’m also the new Falcon would scare you off more than intrigue you.

“Well, that explains why I haven’t seen you lately,” you nodded. “So, you just come here for breakfast when you’re in town?”

He nodded. “I have a bit of a routine of a coffee and a danish after my morning run. I’m pretty glad that I do now, especially since you came to talk to me today. Even if I had sugar all over my face and embarrassed the hell outta myself when you did.”

Joaquin was pretty sure he was never going to live that down. It was certainly something that Sam Wilson was never going to hear about or he would tease him about it for the rest of his life, he was sure of that.

You laughed. “Okay, but the sugar on your face was actually kind of cute, and if I knew you better I would have just wiped it off for you instead of embarrassing you by telling you so you had to do it yourself.”

“Why don’t we get to know each other better then?” Joaquin saw his chance and took it. “Let me take you out on a date, somewhere that isn’t this coffee shop and somewhere I won’t eat something that covers my face in sugar. What do you say?”

He was pretty confident that you were going to say yes, especially when he saw your lips curl into a smile. He could almost see the cogs turning in your mind as you tried to figure out what to say to answer him.

“C’mon, let me take you out. I promise I’m not some kind of creep – and yes, I’m well aware that is exactly what someone who is a creep would say – but I’m really not,” he laughed. “All I am is a guy who’s been crushing on the cute girl who keeps coming into my coffee shop and trying to convince myself to talk to her.”

“Okay, okay – fine, I’ll go on a proper date with you,” you agreed, unable to keep it in any longer. Watching him try and convince you was so incredibly endearing but you couldn’t keep him waiting when he was clearly so eager to take you out.

Joaquin grinned. “So… can I pick you up at 7, then?”

“Tonight?”

“You got other plans?”

You shook your head. “No, I just didn’t expect you to be so quick with it.”

“Well, with my job, I could be gone tomorrow and I feel like we’ve already wasted enough time, don’t you? I mean… we’ve both liked each other for months without knowing a single thing about each other apart from our coffee orders. I’d like to change that,” he admitted.

“All right,” you agreed with a nod. “You’ll pick me up at 7. But right now, I am going to eat this pastry that’s been sitting here in front of me the whole time and I’ll let you finish your danish cause after all, you did steal my seat and I did come here to eat some breakfast.”

Joaquin chuckled and picked up his danish again. “You promise to tell me if I get sugar all over my face again?”

“Maybe,” you grin. “Like I said, you looked pretty cute with sugar all over your face.”

He shook his head and took a bite of his danish. He’d thought he wasn’t going to live this down if Sam ever found out about it, but he hadn’t counted on you being one to keep reminding him about it. But… you found it cute, so Joaquin was pretty sure he could live with that… hearing you calling him cute.

You smiled to yourself as you watched him bite into the danish and end up with sugar on his face again. It wasn’t everywhere like it had been before but it was on the corner of his mouth.

He looked over at you. “I have sugar on my face again, don’t I?”

“You trying to get me to tell you that I think you’re cute again, Joaquin?”

“Can you blame a guy for liking the fact that a pretty girl thinks he’s cute?”

Smiling, you reached over and swiped your finger over the corner of his mouth, removing the sugar from it. You almost laughed at the way Joaquin froze and the look of shock on his face. He was pretty sure he’d just died and gone to heaven, actually.

“You just had a little bit of sugar there,” you hummed, picking your own danish up.

Joaquin let out a long, shaky breath. Who knew a strawberry danish could be so dangerous?

#captain america #captain america: brave new world #captain america x reader #joaquin torres #joaquin torres x reader #joaquin torres x you #falcon x reader #falcon #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel x you

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kyeomofhearts · 1 day ago

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Bad Boy!Wonwoo x Reader Headcannons

[☻] found this little gem while going through my (various) drafts! this was honestly what pushed me to create back for more sooo… why not post it while you guys wait for part 3? just think of it as a little prologue hehe <3

Bad Boy!Wonwoo who would almost always come to class late. Not caring about the attention he would get for disrupting the class.

Bad Boy!Wonwoo who would come into campus with a sleek black motorcycle, helmet in hand, and a face that rarely displayed emotion.

Bad Boy!Wonwoo who never actually caused any trouble, well, at least not anymore. But there was something that made people wary of him—including you.

Bad Boy!Wonwoo who you've known for almost your whole life—having gone to the same elementary, middle, and high school…and now university. You both even shared the same group of friends but you two were never particularly close by any means.

Bad Boy!Wonwoo who was always just there. He was the quiet kid who never stood out too much, always hanging around your shared friend group but never making an effort to be the center of attention.

If you had to describe him back then, you would say he was reserved. You knew how he could get when he was with his close group of friends so it wasn’t like he was shy, he just wasn’t open with everyone.

You don’t remember ever having a full-blown conversation with him either. Just small interactions here and there, nothing too serious.

Which is why his new behavior is odd to you.

Bad Boy!Wonwoo who had eyes all over him for the first few months of school—but he didn’t mind them.

Not when he had his sights set on you.

It started off small. A glance that lingered for too long, a smirk that felt too intentional, or a passing comment that seemed designed to get under your skin.

Then, suddenly, he was everywhere.

Showing up at the same campus cafe you normally went to. Catching your arm just as were about to walk past him. Even walking you to your classes—you felt like it was nearly impossible to escape Wonwoo these days.

Even when you talked with him, you noticed just how close he was. It was just enough to make you move back, just enough to make you aware of him.

It wasn’t flirting, not really, but the way he watched your reactions made it feel like some kind of game.

You don’t understand why he’s suddenly interested in you (if you can even consider it like that).

But… after all these years, why now?

What you didn’t know was that Wonwoo had liked you for many years by now. It wasn’t anything crazy, just a small hallway crush if anything.

He never planned on acting upon his interest in you, if he was being honest. Preferring to admire from a distance.

But then, he saw you again. Attending the same university as him. And maybe, just maybe, it wouldn’t hurt to try.

So now he’s making sure you see him.

Read [Back For More] here.

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napoftustar · 22 hours ago

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diphylleia grayi, the skeleton flower is a species of perennial plant in the family berberidaceae‚ it is native to northern and central Japan.

known scientifically as diphylleia grayi, this rare plant grows in cool moist mountain regions‚ adding a touch of magic to the forest floor. the flower’s petals have unique cell structures that absorb water‚ allowing light to pass through and create their glass-like appearance, its petals become transparent when in contact with water and once it’s dry, the petals return to white.* and probably the reason why it’s called skeleton and not glass (although its scientific name origin actually means glass/clear flower) or transparent flower is because it’s not fully transparent and you can see the flower’s ‘veins’, you can still see its ‘skeleton’?

*“The flower has air spaces between its loosely packed cells. The air in these empty spaces reflects all the wavelengths of lights. It is this reflection that makes the flowers appear white. Now, when it rains, water replaces the air space between the cells. Water and the fluid inside the cells of the cells (the cytolymph) have the same refractive index. Thus, when light passes through the water filling the spaces and the cells, it only refracts through the liquid, without much being reflected. Without reflection, you can’t see any colors. The flower is like glass made of water.” source

and there’s also a beautiful song about this flower that i discovered while looking up for its name. i want to share some interpretations of the song because as i read, it touched my heart. lyrics translation here

“Jonghyun's entire song uses the extended metaphor of the skeleton flower to describe the relationship between external causes of grief and the internal strife they leave behind. Diphylleia grayi is a white flower that turns transparent when wet. Jonghyun likens this phenomnenon to the transformation of the outward effects of grief to an inward loneliness which cannot be seen but still remains.” source

an interpretation from a reddit entry: “I personally like this translation more: “Dear flower in front of me // With that deep scent that bewitched me // You lock me up in the room of eternity, so that I cannot find you, and simply smile your white artful smile.”

In the song, the skeleton flower represents the human experience of love and loss. When it gets drenched “in tears” it becomes invisible, meaning the regret and the pain - “of letting go knowingly” in this case - become invisible too. However, this pain and regret are still there even though we can’t see them. With time the importance of this experience changes: As his “fault” and his “regret” become invisible, the invisible skeleton flower in front of him, bewitches him with its scent and locks him in it for eternity, so that he can’t physically find this flower, which represents this particular fault and pain, ever again and he can “simply smile the flower’s white, artful smile” as time passes and things change. Basically meaning that all things pass, all things change over time, and pain becomes bearable (-> “With time, even the white petals will wither. Without remembering that they were once transparent”)”

another interpretation from another reddit entry: “Jonghyun mentioned on Blue Night that the song was inspired by the listener question that was something along the lines of, “Can you describe your feelings on life using nature?” Because of this and the lyrics, I’ve always interpreted it in a depression vein too, how sadness and emptiness can cause you not to see some of the more beautiful aspects of life - that it causes them to go invisible, dew on petals - but conversely seeing those beautiful parts of life makes it more painful when they end or are corrupted in some way, especially if it’s your own fault and inspires regret. It gives you something to cherish and then be ruined by your own hands, or others. It’s a song that, in my eyes, is a gorgeous representation of the dual-nature of vulnerability, how being open and exposed can bring joy in life but also agony, but letting those things go and becoming numb is its own hell. This is something I think everyone struggles with throughout their lives - I know I have - which is why I so frequently tear up at this song and the repetition of, “As time passes…” in the end.”

#diphylleia grayi #the skeleton flower #i was so scared that the pictures were ai generated and the flower doesn’t exist. but thankfully. it does exist #and it’s a beautiful flower🥺 i hope i can see it in real time one day. it’s added on my “flowers must to see once go to japan” list heh #and the song is also beautifully heartbreaking..... tears and souls‚ rain and flower’s petals #:(#sighs #🌸

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kheprriverse · 2 days ago

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I mentioned Volga’s family at the end of this post and wanted to get into it a little more, it just took a LONG time to finish the refs I needed for it. But now I think I got what I wanted done. There are a few I maybe wanna work on in the future but for now… Volga family/lore dump!!!

I like lore-dumping through him since he's Ares's way of learning about dragons. It's not often you'll get a fire dragon willing to share his experience with you and I like making Ares the know-it-all mouthpiece.

I mentioned he was born from a clutch of 6 eggs. The eldest is his sister, Scorn, who is also the largest and most fierce.

I want her to make an appearance eventually, relating to this post funnily enough (I’m actually reworking when this meeting even takes place so while that post will still be sorta relevant to their relationship it’ll have nothing to do with Scorn). He knows the most about her which... is not much tbh. Usually after dragons migrate away from families they'll likely never see each other again.

The second oldest are his sisters Blitz and Blaze, twins born from the same egg. He doesn't know much about them aside from what Scorn would tell him in the future. That they continue to be inseparable, insufferable, and downright wacky. They rule their territory together and don't have (or don't want) mates, unlike Scorn who had her own family at one point.

He knows his three other siblings; Flare, Sear, and Burn, all of which are female. He knows of them, but doesn't know what they've been up to since they all migrated. He's the youngest, the runt, and funnily enough (one of) the most odd. He's had to exaggerate just about everything about him in order to keep his siblings from treating him like he's weak, which happened to play into his current arrogant and prideful self now. Though, sometimes he lets that facade fall when alone with Ares.

They're in no way the only hatchlings their parents had, but Volga wouldn't know any of them outside of his clutch.

Then there's his parents: his mother Smolder, and his father Gargoyle.

He's not exaggerating when he says they're the largest dragons someone could meet. They've lived and ruled their territory for many years unchallenged. Though he does make an off comment about Smolder being bigger than Hyrule Castle sometime in a future conversation, but he never makes it clear to Ares if he's truly joking or not.

Fire dragons don't leave their eggs, nor do they leave their hatchlings out to survive on their own unless there's some crazy exception that would make them think abandoning is the best choice. Could be from the current situation being unsafe, like having just been driven out of territory (in Scorn's case) for example. Or it could be the hatchling has some mutation or is too weak. Though not every fire dragon will abandon their hatchlings unless they think there's no other choice.

They're raised for about a year, taught what's important (how to hunt, how to breath fire properly, how to defend oneself and fight, what is honor and how to have an honorable fight, territory and what it means, how to hoard, social cues, etc). After that initial year the hatchlings, now fledgling dragons, will migrate to claim their own territory or challenge another dragon for theirs.

Volga was actually going to have a snide comment at the end here like "not anymore at least". This is just snippets from a storyboard so it may or may not appear in the future.

Some instances, dragons may stay with their parents and help defend the nest and hunt for future siblings. I'm sure if Volga ever went back to his birthplace he'd maybe see a few siblings still, but it doesn't always happen. Sometimes they'll stay on the off chance that they can challenge their parents for their territory when they're older, but Smolder and Gargoyle aren't really dragons you wanna challenge.

Volga chose a rather dangerous route when migrating and that was over the Great Sea. Likely to prove a point to his family. The ocean is much too large for a 1-year-old dragon, especially his size at the time, to fly over. But he managed to do it anyways, whereas the rest of his siblings likely stayed within reach of their parents, or each other, or even just within the same continent.

His decision to migrate across the ocean likely caused his family to believe he probably died before he got to the other side because of how difficult it is to get across. Which is something I plan for Scorn to point out when they finally reunite. if I ever get to drawing it.

He arrives in Hyrule when its already established, but manages to keep himself hidden long enough to find Eldin Volcano -- the perfect home for a fire dragon. But before he can become comfortable he meets another fire dragon! An old one even, burrowed deep within the volcano with its hoard of monster bones and jewels, and a large community of lizardfolk working for it while it sleeps.

The dragon is much too old to fight, and Volga at the time is much to small to challenge anyone. So he ends up blending into the lizardfolk and bringing the elder food, though its likely the dragon knew he was there. It would be a couple years of Volga running random errands the lizardfolk give him before the older dragon finally leaves its burrow and makes himself known; Obsidian, as the lizardfolk would call him.

Volga was pretty lucky the dragon was so old. He had built up the territory for multiple centuries, had a deal with the gorons and lizardfolk, but was having difficulty keeping peace with the rito and newly settled hylians. Because of his age, Obsidian didn't see a need to feel threatened nor threaten the 3-year-old fledgling, instead he found potential in Volga and decided he'd be a good successor. So he took the smaller dragon under his wing (haha) and its been history since.

Volga learned much of his prowess from Obsidian and many of his current techniques as well. Many fire dragons have potential to shift into an alternate form and this is who Volga learned and perfected his from. It wasn't until this ability was practiced to perfection before Obsidian decided Volga was ready to challenge him and take his place.

Often times when fire dragons are trying to find territory and encounter another dragon, they much "challenge" the current dragon. Challenges are done honorably, either ending in death or when one of the opponents forfeits. When a dragon challenges another, they unfold their wings and hang their head high to make themselves look larger before letting out a "challenge roar". The fight starts when the second dragon initiates.

Volga has kept his word to Obsidian to keep the peace between the gorons and lizardfolk, as well as repair the relationship with the hylians and rito, and keep the territory running for the rest of his life. And a dragon's word is unbreakable.

#loz au #Hyrule Warriors #Volga #dragon #Scorn (Kheprriverse)#Smolder (Kheprriverse)#Gargoyle (Kheprriverse)#kheprriverse #kheprriart #note: will probably add a height chart to this soon #lore dump #long post

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vbecker10 · 2 days ago

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What Were You Going to Ask Me?

Pairing: Bucky x female reader (Y/N)

Summary: Sam & Steve push Bucky to ask you out on a date but every time he tries to ask you, something or someone interrupts him. After several failed attempts to find out what Bucky needs to ask you, he acts as if he forgot his question when he mistakenly thinks you have a daughter and husband.

Sam rolls his eyes as he turns on the lights in the empty gym, "Okay seriously Buck, I'm tired of hearing about Y/N. Can you give it a rest for like ten minutes?"

"Why? What's wrong with Y/N?" Bucky asks defensively, following Sam over to the boxing area.

"Nothin'..." he explains with a sigh. "But you haven't stopped talking about her for a solid week."

"I don't talk about her that much," Bucky argues, folding his arms across his chest as he drops his gym bag at his feet.

"It's literally all the damn time," Sam insists. "I mean come on, I know how Y/N takes her coffee and her favorite pizza place-"

"It's good pizza," Bucky interrupts.

"That's not even close to my point," Sam opens his bag and digs around for what he needs.

"I hate to say it but Sam's right," Steve joins the conversation finally, putting his gym bag down at the end of a row of punching bags.

"Really man?" Sam asks as he takes offense to Steve's comment. "I'm right pretty often."

"Yeah, like when?" Bucky counters with a smirk.

"Stop it, we're getting off topic," Steve says in his Captain America tone before Sam can start an argument with Bucky. "Look Buck, we both know you like Y/N, it's painfully obvious."

Bucky kneels down and unzips his gym bag, pulling out a long wrap for his hand. Keeping his head down, he ignores Steve who continues to talk with Sam. He really thought he was hiding his growing feelings for you better than this. If his friends noticed, were you able to tell too? Maybe you did know and you didn't feel the same and that's why you never brought it up.

"Dude really?" Sam stands over the super soldier and finally gets his attention.

"What?" Bucky looks up then stands slowly.

"Would you please just ask her out already?" Sam asks desperately.

Before Bucky can explain all the reasons why that's a bad idea, his oldest friend puts his hand on his shoulder, squeezing it lightly and looks him straight in the eyes. "If you don't ask her by the end of the day, I'm doing it for you," Steve says. "You're driving me nuts Bucky."

After training, Bucky goes back to his apartment to shower then heads straight for your office before he loses his nerve or worse... Steve makes good on his threat. He knocks on the door and waits anxiously on the other side.

You sigh, looking up from your screen as you pinch the bridge of your nose and close your eyes tightly. You had spent the last two hours training the new SHIELD intern but you have a feeling he didn't retain a single thing you told him. That better not be Josh with more questions already, you think.

"Come in," you call with as little annoyance in your voice as possible. Picking up your cup, you finish your second lukewarm coffee of the day as the door opens. "Oh, hi Bucky," you say cheerfully as soon as you see the super soldier walk into your office. He smiles at you and you immediately forget how aggravated you had been only seconds ago.

"Hey Y/N," he smiles back as he closes the door, his nervousness easing slightly by how excited you are to see him. He takes a seat across from you, his eyes leaving yours momentarily to take in the tall stack of case files and two empty coffee cups. "Busy day?"

"Always is," you shrug and you notice his smile fade slightly which is the last thing you want. You can't explain how much you love to see him happy, it gives you butterflies anytime he smiles, especially when you are the one who caused it to happen. "I always have time for you though. What can I help you with?" you ask. "I didn't think you had any up coming missions, did I miss one?"

"Uh, no. I actually have a question for you," Bucky replies. He shifts on the chair and runs his metal fingers through his hair.

"Oh, okay. What's-" you start to ask what he needs but your attention is pulled away from Bucky to your phone ringing. You groan when you see who it is, "Sorry, I need to get this, it's Agent Hill."

He nods and gets up to leave. "It'll just take a second, you can stay," you tell him but he's already out the door.

At lunch you decide to go looking for Bucky, still curious about what he wanted to ask you. You head up to the Avengers living quarters and make your way to the kitchen. He's standing with his back to you as he digs through the fridge for something to eat, when he turns and sees you behind him a smile spreads across his face.

"Hey," he says, carrying the ingredients for a sandwich over to the island.

"Hi again," you smile back and walk closer to him. "I was hoping I'd find you here." That was only a little lie, you knew you would find him here. Bucky always eats lunch in the kitchen unless he's on a mission or stuck in meetings.

"You were looking for me?" he asks as he assembles his lunch.

"Yeah, I was wondering what you wanted to ask me before," you explain.

"Oh, umm..." his cheeks redden and you can't help but wonder if he's blushing or if you're seeing things. "Well I was wondering if-"

Tony walks in and Bucky's mouth clamps shut tightly which only makes you more curious. "Hey," Tony greets you both as he makes his way to the fridge to grab a drink.

"Hi," you respond but keep your eyes on Bucky who suddenly seems overly focused on his lunch. He gathers the remaining ingredients and quickly puts them away. "Oh, did you still need to talk?" you ask Bucky, hoping he won't leave yet.

"Yeah, maybe later. I'll come by your office in a bit," he says without looking at you as he walks past Tony and heads towards his apartment with his plate.

"So that was weird even for him," Tony says when you two are alone.

"It was right?" you ask. You're tempted to follow him but before you can leave the kitchen your phone alerts you that you have a meeting starting in fifteen minutes. With a sigh, you head back to your office.

Two hours later, you've completely given up on the idea that Bucky will come visit your office and finally ask you his question. The fact that he didn't want to talk about it when Tony was there just makes you even more curious. It obviously doesn't have anything to do with work so what the heck is it?

You bite your lip and just as your mind begins to wander, your phone vibrates. The initial disappointment you feel when the call isn't from Bucky vanishes when you hear your sisters voice on the other end of the line.

You check your watch to make sure you're not late while the coffee maker works on your third cup of the day. You need to be down in the lobby in the next ten minutes or so.

"Hi Y/N," Bucky's voice fills the previously empty kitchen.

"Oh, hey," you give a small wave and your smile brightens when you see him, Steve and Sam. "I've got a few minutes until I need to do something, can we talk about whatever your question was?"

"You didn't ask yet?" Sam looks at Bucky as you reach for the sugar in the cabinet above you. Your back is turned to the trio so you miss the disappointed look Steve gives his friend but not the sound of Bucky smacking Sam's shoulder to quiet him.

You laugh, "I've been trying all day to find out what the heck he needs to ask me."

"Yeah, about that-" Bucky starts, shoving his hands deep in his pockets.

Your phone vibrates and you take it out to check the new message. "Sorry Bucky, I need to head to the lobby," you interrupt him.

"Right," he nods. "I'll uh... I'll ask you later."

"Come with me," you tell him. "You can ask me on the way. I'm dying of curiosity here."

He laughs nervously, "Yeah, sure." Steve pats his back hard as he walks past his friends and follows you.

The elevator is crowded with people leaving to go home for the day and you frown knowing Bucky won't even give you a hint as to what his question is. On a more positive note, the cramped elevator means your back is pressed against his chest for the duration of the ride down. This is as close to the super soldier as you've ever been, you've thought about giving him a hug once or twice before but you always held back.

Bucky closes his eyes, keeping his hands in his pockets to ensure he doesn't reach out without thinking to hold you tighter to his body. His mind wanders briefly as he wonders if you'd let out that adorable giggle of yours if he kissed your cheek or put his arms around you.

When the elevator reaches the lobby, you hear what sounds like Bucky sighing in relief behind you. You bite your lip at his reaction and take as big of a step away from him as you can while you wait for everyone else to get out.

Bucky follows you, curious about who you are meeting since he had been so wrapped up in his own thoughts he forgot to ask. Maybe one of your friends? Hopefully not a boyfriend, you hadn't mentioned one but there was a lot he still didn't know about you. He stops walking and his heart sinks when a little girl runs over to you, hugging you tightly as you kneel down to greet her. You stand up, holding the child then walk a few steps closer to a man Bucky fears is your husband as he's obviously the girls father. He hands you a small backpack and kisses the little girls head which makes her giggle. The sound reminds Bucky of you and he does his best not to let his emotions show on his face as he watches you.

"Say bye to daddy," you tell the girl and she waves as he leaves through the front doors. You turn back to Bucky with a smile. "Ready to go back up?"

He doesn't answer, his mind swimming. He thought for sure you were flirting with him but maybe you were just being nice. Had he read the whole situation completely wrong?

"Bucky?" you ask to get his attention.

"Bucky," the girl repeats and giggles.

"Yes, that's Bucky," you put her backpack over your shoulder and wave at him. The little girl copies you.

Bucky wiggles his metal fingers as he waves back which you find far too adorable. His bright smile returns and he pushes the button for the elevator as he takes the pink unicorn bag from you. "Hi there, what's your name?" he asks.

"Lucy," she answers with a wide smile, showing off a missing front tooth.

"It's nice to meet you Lucy," Bucky tells her as you follow him onto the elevator.

"Okay, so what did you want to ask me?" you ask and laugh a little. "Sorry we keep getting distracted."

"Oh, I forgot what it was," he shrugs. "I guess it wasn't important."

"Seriously?" you ask not believing him. "All day I've been trying to figure out it and that's all I get?"

"Sorry," he responds, his eyes focus on the elevator buttons and he remains quiet until you reach the common floor.

"Oh my goodness, who is this?" Nat smiles when the three of you enter the kitchen. Sam and Steve sit across from her, their discussion about what to order for dinner coming to an abrupt end.

Lucy bites her lip, looking at all the new faces and turns in your arms, hiding herself against your shoulder. "Aww, are you feeling shy?" you say to her gently.

She nods and Bucky rubs her back slowly which takes you by surprise. Lucy looks up at him and he smirks, "Don't be shy, everyone's so excited to meet you. Want to show them your missing tooth?"

She giggles excitedly and smiles wide as she faces your friends, pointing to the little hole between her teeth.

"Wow," Sam says. "You get a dollar from the tooth fairy?"

Lucky nods quickly as you set her down now that she seems more relaxed.

"Y/N, she looks just like you," Nat states, looking from you to Lucy.

"Right?" you laugh. "I always thought that was funny cause my sister and I don't really look alike."

"My brother-in-law got called into work early and my sister got stuck in a late meeting so I told them I could watch her for a few hours," you explain.

Bucky nearly drops the backpack when he goes to place it on the island and the sudden slip doesn't go unnoticed by the spy or his friends. You, however, don't notice as your preoccupied watching Lucy wander over to Bucky.

"Wait, so she's not your daughter?" Steve asks, his tone a mix of confusion and surprise.

You laugh again, "What? No, I'm on aunt duty tonight." Looking around, you see Bucky's mouth hanging open and Sam shrugging at Steve. "Wait, did you guys really think I had a daughter I forget to tell you about?"

"No, of course not," Steve says quickly.

"Absolutely not," Sam says at the same time.

Bucky remains quiet but you see the smile return to his face and wonder if that's why he had been so awkward in the elevator. "The three of you are idiots," Nat shakes her head, voicing your thoughts perfectly.

"Well yeah, but I just thought..." Bucky's thought trails off when Lucy grabs onto his pants leg and tugs to get his attention. "Hi," he smiles down at her.

She giggles up at him and reaches her arms up, "Bucky."

"I don't mind," he smiles as he sways a bit back and forth. "I think someone is tired."

"You tired of me already?" you pretend to pout but it doesn't get her attention, she continues to smile up at him and he kneels down to be at eye level. "Oh I get it, you just want to tall, handsome, soldier to hold you?" You blush when you realize you said that last part outloud and you can tell by Nat's expression and the way Bucky's head snaps in your direction that they all heard it.

Bucky gently lifts her up with his right arm and she cuddles against his chest. "You don't have to..." you tell him.

"Are you ever going to tell me what you wanted to ask me?" you look up at him as the elevator doors close, leaving you alone and him with no way to escape the question that's been following you around all day.

"I-" you try to process a question that wasn't anywhere on your list of possible topics. He bites his lip as he watches your brain slowly catchup. "Yes! Yeah, yes I'd love to," you giggle and notice his smile returning but then yours fades. "Ooh no... I can't, I'm sorry."

"Now seems as good a time as any," he says with a nervous smile. He clears his throat, "I was wondering if you'd like to go on a date this Friday?"

"What? No, I mean, yes I still really want to but just not this Friday. I promised I'd watch Lucy so my sister and her husband could go to a wedding," you explain quickly before he thinks you aren't interested in him.

His smile disappears completely, "It's okay, I'm sorry. I knew I shouldn't have asked."

He nods, putting his hands in his pockets. "Maybe next weekend?" he suggests with a shrug almost as if he's not sure he believes you.

"Or you could come over and help Friday?" you counter and he looks at you curiously. "Please? She already loves you and I get really bored after I put her to bed. I really want to spend more time with you. We could watch a movie or something."

"Sure," Bucky relaxes and you grin happily. "You think your sister will be okay if I come over?"

"I don't think she's going to mind an Avenger watching over her kid while she's out," you tell him.

"Fair point," he takes a step closer to you as the doors open. "Its not quite a date, but I'm looking forward to it."

"Bucky!" Lucy screams excitedly when your sister opens the door and sees you with the super soldier.

"Wow, I'm forgotten about already," you say trying to sound overly hurt when you close the front door.

"She's been talking about him coming over since you called," Rachel laughs and gives you a hug as Bucky picks up your niece.

"Can we braid your hair?" the little girl asks with a smile as she pulls his hair gently.

"Maybe," he says with a smile that very obviously means yes.

"Glitter?" Bucky repeats nervously and you giggle with your sister as she puts on her coat.

"Oh and decorate your arm?" she asks as she reaches to play with his metal fingers.

"You going to make his arm pretty?" you joke with your niece who takes your question very seriously.

She nods, "Glitter."

"No glitter," your brother-in-law thankfully steps into the conversation. "Be good for aunt Y/N and Bucky okay sweetheart? We'll be home before you wake up."

She nods quickly, "I'll be good daddy." Bucky sets her back down so she can hug both her parents goodbye.

He leans over to whisper to you, "If I see one piece of glitter, I'm picking the movie and what we're doing on our date tomorrow."

"That was the worst threat ever," you smile back at him as the front door closes. "So, where's the glitter Lucy?"

I hope you liked this!! Please like, share and comment if you did 💙💙 Please let me know if you want to be added to my taglist!

@soubi001 @lokiswife-dark-fox-queen @animnerd @cabingrlandrandomcrap @icytrickster17 @mjsthrillernp @holdmytesseract @lulubelle814 @alexakeyloveloki @siconetribal @ash-muses @loz-3 @firedrakegirl @wolfsmom1 @sabspoetic @peaches1958 @catsladen @michellewgrt @crimson25 @jaidenhawke @mochie85 @itscomplicatedx

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jburrgf · 2 days ago

Text

Friends III, The Love Trope Series

EVERYTHING HAS CHANGED, PART III

◦pairing: bengals¡joe! x best friend¡reader!

◦summary: friends to lovers, childhood friendship. slow burn, soulmates.

◦description: it’s been five years since you saw joe for the last time. your life went another way, at the same time joe’s life went too. but everything changes when you find yourself needing somebody, and your best friend it’s the only one that you know it can help you.

◦ playlist: Friends, Ed Sheeran From Eden, Hoozier 21, Gracie Abramns You Belong With Me, Taylor Swift I Couldn't Be More In Love, The 1975

part I/ part Il

FIRST TRIMESTER OF 2019. – LSU & BENGALS.

Y/N

The sound of the door unlocking pulled me from my thoughts as I sat at the kitchen counter, finishing a cup of coffee. Ryan stepped in, his hair slightly disheveled, his scrubs wrinkled from the long hours he’d just endured. He looked tired—exhausted, actually—but his smile still found its way to his face when he saw me.

“Hey, babe,” he said, dropping his bag near the door and walking over to me. He leaned down and placed a quick kiss on my forehead before sighing heavily. “What a day.”

“You look beat,” I said softly, standing up to grab the cup of tea I’d made for him earlier. I handed it to him, and he gave me a grateful smile.

“Yeah, it was a long one. Surgery went well, though. The patient’s stable.” He sank onto one of the bar stools, taking a sip of the tea. “What about you? What’s on your agenda for today? Didn’t see you at the hospital.”

I hesitated for a moment, brushing an invisible crumb off the counter. “I’m actually meeting Lauren for lunch,” I said, trying to sound casual.

Ryan raised an eyebrow, but his expression remained neutral. “Oh yeah? Where are you two headed?”

“Just the café near her office,” I replied, leaning against the counter. “It’s been a while since we’ve caught up, so I figured we could spend some time together.”

“That’s nice,” he said, his tone light. “You’ve been working a lot lately. You deserve a break.”

I smiled, feeling a twinge of guilt as I looked at him. He was always so supportive, so steady, even when I knew he was running on fumes.

“Thanks,” I said softly.

“Don’t mention it,” he replied, finishing the tea and setting the cup down. He stood up and stretched, his muscles stiff from hours in the operating room. “I think I’m going to crash for a bit. Don’t let me sleep too long, though, or I’ll be up all night.”

“Deal,” I said with a small laugh.

He kissed me again, this time on the lips, and headed toward the bedroom. “Have fun with Lauren, babe,” he called over his shoulder.

“Thanks, love.” I replied, watching him disappear down the hallway.

As the door to the bedroom closed, I found myself staring at the empty tea cup on the counter, an inexplicable weight settling in my chest. It wasn’t that anything was wrong—Ryan was kind, caring, and everything I’d ever thought I wanted.

It’s been weeks since I started feeling like this again. I don’t know what triggered me, but some weeks ago, I realized that I was thinking too much for things that I used to do normally.

So why did I feel like something was missing?

[...]

The café was bustling with the usual lunch rush, the hum of conversations and clinking plates filling the air. I sat across from Lauren, sipping on my iced tea as she animatedly recounted a story about her latest work trip. I was listening—really, I was—but my focus wavered every now and then.

My life felt… stable. Almost too stable, like the kind of perfection you don’t question because you’re afraid it’ll crumble the moment you do. Ryan and I had been living together for over a year now, and things were good. He was sweet, dependable, and everything I thought I needed.

“And then he knocked over the entire display!” Lauren exclaimed, her laughter pulling me out of my thoughts.

I smiled, shaking my head. “You always end up with the most chaotic coworkers.”

“Tell me about it,” she replied, taking a sip of her coffee. “But enough about me. How’s work? How’s Ryan?”

I shrugged, playing with the straw in my drink. “Work’s good. Busy, but good. Ryan’s… Ryan.”

Lauren raised an eyebrow. “That sounded less enthusiastic than usual.”

“No, it’s not like that,” I said quickly, waving her off. “We’re fine. Really. Working in the same hospital where your boyfriend is an intern? Crazy, but we are working on it. It’s good to know someone from outside over there. But I don’t know, Ren… everything feels too norma to be right. I’m so scared."

She gave me a knowing look but didn’t press further. Instead, her attention shifted to the TV mounted on the café wall, behind me. “Oh, hey, isn’t that—”

My eyes followed hers, and my breath caught in my throat.

There was.

Joe.

My Joe.

Dressed in LSU’s purple and gold, he stood in front of a row of microphones, his helmet tucked under one arm as he answered questions from reporters, still in the middle of the field, after another game. His hair was slightly longer than I remembered, and his face had matured in the years since I’d last seen him. But it was undeniably him.

My heart twisted in a way I hadn’t felt in years.

He was… there. After five years, that was the first time I was seeing his face. Still with the same deep blue eyes, the playful smile, the same face… It almost felt like home.

“Holy crap,” Lauren said, her voice low. “He’s… different.”

My breath got caught on the top of my throat and I couldn't say anything. I missed seeing his face so much that my whole body felt numb. I wanted to cry so bad, that my eyes felt heavier cause of the tears almost running down my face.

I nodded, unable to tear my eyes away from the screen. The headline at the bottom read, “Joe Burrow leads LSU to a decisive victory, securing their spot in the NCAA final.”

“He’s at LSU now,” I murmured, more to myself than to Lauren.

“Have you talked to him since… you know? I just remember you saying to me that things fell apart.” she asked carefully.

“No,” I said quickly, shaking my head. “Not since college. Not since Ohio State.”

Lauren didn’t say anything, but the look on her face said enough. I turned my attention back to my drink, trying to ignore the ache in my chest that seeing him had stirred up.

I missed him so much. I spent almost half of my life putting in my head that I didn’t miss him at all, but everybody knew it was a lie.

Even myself.

JOE BURROW.

The rain battered against the windows of my apartment, the sound almost drowning out the action movie playing on my TV. I leaned back on the couch, my feet propped up on the coffee table, the remnants of a takeout dinner sitting beside me.

It had been a long week, filled with practice, media obligations, and the weight of knowing that the championship game was just weeks away. But for now, I had the rare luxury of a quiet night to myself.

My phone was in my hand. I’ve been chatting with my mom

the whole day, missing the feeling of being by myself at my own house in Ohio. Some messages from my friends,

I was just reaching for the remote to turn up the volume when the doorbell rang.

Frowning, I glanced at the clock. It was almost 10 PM.

I got up, padding to the door in bare feet. When I opened it, my breath caught in my throat.

“Y/N?”

She stood there, drenched from head to toe, her hair plastered to her face and her clothes clinging to her frame. Her eyes were red, like she’d been crying, and she was shivering from the cold.

“Can I come in?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Of course,” I said quickly, stepping aside to let her in.

She walked past me, her arms wrapped around herself as she stood awkwardly in the middle of the living room. I grabbed a towel from the bathroom right by the living room and handed it to her.

“Here,” I said. “You’re soaked.”

“Thanks,” she murmured, taking the towel and rubbing it over her hair.

I watched her for a moment, my mind racing with questions. What was she doing here? Why now, after all these years?

“Y/N,” I said carefully, “what’s going on?”

She hesitated, clutching the towel like it was the only thing holding her together. “It’s Ryan,” she said finally, her voice breaking. “He… he cheated on me.”

My chest tightened, anger and disbelief flooding through me. “What?”

“I found out a few hours ago,” she continued, her voice trembling. “He’s been seeing someone else for months. I confronted him about it, and he didn’t even deny it. He just—” Her voice broke, and she covered her face with her hands, shaking. ‘ I had to see you. I saw you on Tv and found that you were over here, so I just took the first flight. You were right, Joe. He wasn’t good for me.”

“Hey, hey,” I said softly, stepping closer and placing a hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay. You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

She nodded, taking a shaky breath as she lowered her hands. “I didn’t know where else to go,” she admitted, looking up at me with tear-filled eyes.

“You came to the right place,” I said firmly. “I’m here, Y/N. Whatever you need.”

She let out a small, broken laugh. “You always say that.”

“And I always mean it,” I said, my voice soft but steady.

For a moment, we just stood there, the sound of the rain filling the silence between us. Then, without warning, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around me, burying her face in my chest.

I froze for half a second before wrapping my arms around her, holding her tightly.

“It’s going to be okay,” I murmured, resting my chin on the top of her head.

She didn’t say anything, but I could feel her shoulders relax slightly, her grip on me tightening as if she was afraid I might let go.

I didn’t.

Y/N

The sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a warm, golden hue over the room. My eyes fluttered open, and for a brief moment, I forgot where I was. The couch I’d slept on was soft and warm, and I snuggled deeper into the blanket, catching the faint scent of Joe lingering on the fabric.

Then it all came rushing back. I was at Joe’s apartment.

I stretched lazily, my body still heavy with sleep, and glanced down at what I was wearing—a slightly oversized gray T-shirt with LSU printed across the front. It was Joe’s. He had handed it to me last night, insisting I’d be more comfortable in it than my own clothes. I smiled faintly, letting my fingers brush over the soft cotton.

Something about wearing his shirt felt intimate, grounding even. Like I belonged here. Like this was how things were always meant to be.

I pushed the thought away quickly, sitting up and wrapping the blanket tighter around myself. But the idea lingered, unshakable. This felt so natural—waking up in his space, surrounded by pieces of him. For a fleeting moment, I let myself imagine what it would be like if this wasn’t just a one-time thing.

If this were our routine.

If every night ended with us laughing together on the couch, and every morning began with me wearing his shirts, making breakfast, and waiting for him to wake up.

If I were his.

The thought made my chest ache, a bittersweet longing settling deep inside me. Shaking my head, I tried to push it aside. It was dangerous to let my mind wander there—dangerous and entirely pointless. Joe and I had spent years apart, and so much had changed.

But a part of me couldn’t help but wonder if he ever thought about it too.

I stood quietly, padding over to the kitchen on bare feet. His apartment was small but cozy, filled with little reminders of who he was. A football sat prominently on a shelf, surrounded by LSU memorabilia. A framed photo of him with his parents and brothers hung near the door, and his signature cleats were neatly tucked under the coffee table.

It all felt so Joe, and it made my heart squeeze painfully.

I busied myself in the kitchen, pulling out eggs and bread from his fridge. The smell of coffee filled the air as I brewed a fresh pot, and I started scrambling the eggs. The motions were easy, comforting. For a few minutes, I let myself sink into the simplicity of it, pretending this was just another day in a life we could’ve had together.

The sound of footsteps behind me broke me out of my thoughts.

“Something smells good,” a familiar, groggy voice mumbled.

I turned to see Joe standing in the doorway, rubbing the back of his neck as he yawned. His hair was a mess, sticking up in every direction, and his eyes were still heavy with sleep. He was wearing sweatpants and a plain white T-shirt that clung to his broad shoulders.

I couldn’t help but smile at the sight of him.

“Good morning,” I said softly, trying to keep my voice steady.

He stepped closer, leaning against the counter with a small grin. “Morning,” he murmured, his voice rough with sleep.

Without warning, he pulled me into a quick hug, his arms warm and solid around me. His chin brushed against the top of my head, and I froze for a moment, caught off guard.

“Thanks for making breakfast,” he said, pulling back and giving me a sleepy smile.

I nodded, my cheeks warm as I turned back to the stove. “It’s no big deal. Figured you’d need something good to eat after last night.”

He chuckled, grabbing two mugs and filling them with coffee. “You spoil me, Y/N.”

I tried to laugh, but the sound came out weak. I couldn’t stop my mind from wandering back to the thoughts I’d had earlier. The way this all felt so much like a life I wanted but could never have.

“So, what’s the plan for today?” I asked, my voice light as I plated the eggs and toast.

Joe took a sip of his coffee, his expression thoughtful. “Coach gave us the day off,” he said. “A little break before the chaos kicks in again.”

“That’s good,” I said, glancing at him as I slid his plate across the counter. “You deserve it.”

He smiled, taking a seat on one of the bar stools. “I was thinking… Maybe we could spend the day together. Just us. Get out for a bit, catch up. It’s been a while since we’ve had time like this.”

My heart skipped a beat, and I quickly busied myself with my own plate to avoid meeting his gaze. “That sounds nice,” I said quietly.

He nodded, his eyes lingering on me for a moment before he started eating.

As we sat together in the quiet kitchen, sharing a simple breakfast and easy conversation, I couldn’t help but feel like I was exactly where I was supposed to be. And for the first time in a long time, I allowed myself to enjoy it.

JOE BURROW.

The diner was exactly how I remembered it—small, cozy, and buzzing with the sound of clinking dishes and quiet conversation. The familiar scent of coffee and fried food hung in the air, and the bell above the door jingled as Y/N and I stepped inside.

We slid into a booth near the window, and I handed her a menu from the stand. She scanned it quickly, her fingers tracing the laminated surface absentmindedly.

“You come here often?” she asked, her eyes flicking to mine.

“Yeah,” I said with a small smile. “It’s nothing fancy, but the food’s good. And the people are nice.”

As if on cue, Patty, the diner’s longtime waitress, approached our table with her usual warm smile. “Joe! Long time no see,” she said, setting two glasses of water down in front of us. Her gaze shifted to Y/N, and her smile widened. “And who’s this lovely young lady?”

“This is Y/N,” I said, glancing at her. “An old friend from Ohio.”

“Nice to meet you, sweetheart,” Patty said, her voice warm, the southern accent hitting hard. “What can I get you two?”

After we placed our orders, I leaned back in the booth, studying Y/N as she gazed out the window. The sunlight caught her features in a way that made her look almost ethereal, and for a moment, I found it hard to look away.

“So,” I said, breaking the silence. “Tell me everything. What have you been up to these past few years?”

She hesitated, her expression turning thoughtful. “Where do I even start?”

“From the beginning,” I said, my voice gentle. “I want to know it all.”

She smiled faintly, her fingers tracing patterns on the edge of her glass. “Well… after college, I started working as a physical therapist. It wasn’t easy at first, but I loved it. I started working in the same hospital as Ryan right after graduation.”

Her words stung more than I cared to admit, but I kept my expression neutral, nodding as she continued.

“For a while, everything felt perfect. But, I guess, things don’t always stay that way.” Her voice grew softer, and she looked down at her hands.

I wanted to reach across the table and take her hand, to offer some kind of comfort, but I stopped myself. “And now?” I asked instead.

“Now… I’m figuring things out,” she said, meeting my gaze. “One day at a time.”

I nodded, my chest tightening. “You’ve always been good at that,” I said softly.

She smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “What about you?”

I hesitated for a moment before answering. “I dated Emily for a while in college,” I admitted. “But it didn’t work out. We were… more fucking around than anything else. She thought she was pregnant right before I transferred to LSU. It was crazy. She wasn’t, by the way. ”

She nodded, her expression unreadable. “ I remember the gossip about her and a football player, I didn't think it was you. At least you realized that.”

“Yeah,” I said, leaning forward. “And now, here we are.”

The silence between us was heavy but not uncomfortable. It felt like there were a million things left unsaid, but neither of us knew how to voice them.

“You should come to the game,” I said finally, my voice steady. “The final. I’d love for you to be there.”

Her eyes widened slightly, and a small smile tugged at her lips. “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely,” I said firmly. “It would mean a lot to me.”

She nodded, her smile growing. “Okay. I’ll be there.”

For the first time in years, it felt like we were finding our way back to each other, like it was supposed to be this whole time.

Y/N

The room smelled faintly of powder and lavender as I stood in front of the mirror, my fingers deftly applying blush to Robin’s cheeks. She sat patiently on the cushioned chair, her eyes twinkling with warmth as she glanced at me every so often. I couldn’t help but smile at her reflection. The soft hum of country music played from Robin’s phone, resting on the vanity. My reflection in the mirror made me laugh—an apron tied over my casual outfit, my hair in bobs, and a few smudges of eyeshadow on my fingers.

Robin smiled warmly, her eyes crinkling at the corners as she looked at herself in the mirror. "You’ve got a real talent for this, sweetheart," she said, her voice soft and filled with affection.

"Thank you, Robin," I replied, dabbing lightly on her cheekbone. "I don’t get to do this often, so it’s a nice change of pace."

She chuckled, tilting her head slightly so I could finish blending the blush. "I’m so glad you’re here, Y/N. Joe’s been... different lately."

I paused for a moment, meeting her eyes in the mirror. "Different? What do you mean?"

Robin’s smile grew, her gaze warm and knowing. "He’s happy. Truly happy. I haven’t seen him like this in months, not since the two of you stopped talking."

Her words hit me harder than I expected, a mix of guilt and warmth spreading through me. I smiled softly, focusing back on her makeup to avoid the lump forming in my throat. "I missed him too," I admitted quietly.

Robin’s hand reached up to pat mine, resting gently on my wrist. "You don’t know how happy it makes me to hear that.” Robin opened her eyes, meeting mine in the mirror. “I could tell. And let me tell you, sweetheart, he missed you too. I’ve never seen him this happy in years—not even after his biggest wins.”

Her words sent a warm ache through my chest, and I bit my lip to keep the emotion at bay. “Joe and I… we’ve been through a lot,” I said quietly, setting the brush down. “But I’m glad we found our way back. It feels… right.”

“It is right,” Robin said firmly, watching me with an intensity that caught me off guard.

I finished her makeup shortly after, standing to gather my brushes and palettes. As I zipped up my case and turned to leave, Robin’s hand gently caught mine, pulling me back.

"Y/N," she said, her tone soft but firm. “Stay with him.”

I turned to her, surprised by the intensity in her expression.

I blinked, unsure of what was coming. “Of course,” I said softly.

Her hand tightened around mine, her eyes locking onto mine. “Stay with him. Be there for him. You and Joe—you’ve always been meant for each other. Even when you were kids, I could see it. Your parents saw it too.”

My breath hitched, and for a moment, I couldn’t find the words to respond.

Robin smiled gently, her other hand patting mine. “You’ve always been his anchor, Y/N. And he’s always been yours. Don’t let anything take that away from you.”

My breath caught in my throat, and for a moment, I didn’t know how to respond. Her words hung heavy in the air, laced with a kind of certainty that shook me to my core.

"I—" I started, then stopped, unsure of what to say. Finally, I gave her a small, shaky smile. "Thank you, Robin. That means... a lot."

She smiled warmly, patting my hand once more before letting go. "I just needed to say it," she said.

I nodded, swallowing hard as I left the room. Her words echoed in my mind as I made my way back to my room to get ready, my heart heavy with emotions I wasn’t quite ready to face.

JOE BURROW.

The locker room was buzzing with energy, the kind that made the air crackle before a big game. I pulled my jersey over my head, adjusting the fit as I glanced around at my teammates. Justin was joking with Chase about his pre-game ritual, and Clyde was busy tying his cleats, muttering something about a lucky pair of socks.

I leaned back against the bench, checking my phone for the time. But instead of closing the screen, my eyes caught the notification at the top—a message from Y/N.

Y/N: Good luck tonight, Joey. I’ll be in the stands, cheering for you like always. You’ve got this.

A smile spread across my face before I could stop it, and the warmth that filled my chest was impossible to ignore. It wasn’t just the message—it was the fact that it came from her.

“Alright, what’s with the grin, man?” Justin’s voice cut through my thoughts, and I looked up to see him smirking at me, his arms crossed.

“Yeah, you’ve got that lovesick puppy look again,” Chase added, chuckling. “What, did Y/N text you or something?”

Clyde raised an eyebrow, joining in. “Bet it’s her. You always get that look when it’s about her.”

I shook my head, trying to play it off, but the heat rising to my cheeks betrayed me. “You guys don’t know what you’re talking about,” I muttered, sliding my phone back into my bag.I rolled my eyes, leaning back against the locker. "You’re all imagining things."

“Oh, we know exactly what we’re talking about,” Justin teased, nudging Chase. “You’ve been hung up on her forever, dude. It 's obvious. I Don't even know the girl, but you talk about her like we know. I know you, dawg.”

"Are we, though?" Chase added, walking over and clapping a hand on my shoulder. "You’ve been different since she came back into your life. Happier."

Chase nodded. "And don’t think we haven’t noticed how you’ve been turning down every girl that’s thrown herself at you lately. We’re not blind, Joe. You’re saving yourself for her."

I opened my mouth to protest, but no words came out. I didn’t know how to respond, because deep down, I knew they were right.

"I’m just... happy she’s here," I said finally, my voice quieter than I intended.

Justin grinned, patting my shoulder. "That’s all we’re saying, man. You’re different with her around, and it’s a good thing."

“Yeah,” Clyde chimed in, grinning. “The way you turn down every girl who comes your way? Like, come on, Burrow. We’re not blind.”

I rolled my eyes, though I couldn’t deny the truth in their words. They didn’t need to know that Y/N had always been different—that she wasn’t just some girl I liked, but the one person who made everything else feel… right.

“Alright, leave him alone,” Clyde said with a laugh, slapping me on the back. “He’s got a game to focus on.”

I nodded, grateful for the out. But as I laced up my cleats and joined my teammates in the huddle, Y/N’s message lingered in the back of my mind, fueling me in a way nothing else could.

I didn’t say anything, just nodded as they walked away. My phone buzzed again, and I glanced down to see another message from Y/N.

Y/N: See you after the game, okay?

Because no matter how much time had passed, one thing remained the same: she was still the person who mattered most to me.

Y/N

The energy inside the Mercedes-Benz Superdome was unlike anything I’d ever experienced. It felt alive—every cheer, every chant reverberating through the walls and into my chest. I stood on the sideline with Robin and the rest of Joe’s family, surrounded by a sea of purple and gold on one side, orange and white on the other. LSU versus Clemson. The 2020 College Football Playoff National Championship.

Robin was gripping her program so tightly that it was starting to wrinkle, and I couldn’t blame her. My nerves mirrored hers, every muscle in my body tense as I watched the game unfold. Joe was out there on the field, his figure distinct even in the chaos of the game. He moved with a calm confidence that I knew all too well, every play he called executed with precision.

"Did you see that pass?" Robin asked, nudging me with her elbow after Joe threw a perfect spiral to Ja'Marr Chase, resulting in yet another touchdown for LSU.

I nodded, my voice caught in my throat. "He’s... unbelievable," I finally managed, my chest swelling with pride.

But Joe—Joe was unstoppable. Watching him was like witnessing a maestro conduct a symphony, every throw precise, every play executed with absolute confidence. He’d already thrown for multiple touchdowns, including a jaw-dropping 52-yard pass to Ja'Marr Chase that sent the crowd into a frenzy.

By halftime, LSU was leading 28-17, and the air around us was electric. Robin leaned toward me as the players disappeared into the tunnel. “He’s locked in,” she said with a knowing smile.

I returned her smile, trying to ignore the butterflies in my stomach. “He’s got this.”

The second half was when LSU truly took control. Every time Joe stepped onto the field, it felt like magic. His connection with his receivers was flawless, and the defense held Clemson at bay. The tension that had gripped me earlier started to ease, replaced by an overwhelming sense of pride.

By the fourth quarter, LSU was up 42-25, and the reality of what was happening began to sink in. I found myself holding my breath as the clock ticked down. The final moments seemed to stretch on forever, the roar of the crowd growing louder with each passing second.

When the clock finally hit zero, the stadium erupted in chaos. Purple and gold confetti rained down from above, and the sound of the LSU fight song filled the air. Robin threw her arms around me, her laughter mixing with tears as she hugged me tightly.

"He did it!" she exclaimed, her voice almost drowned out by the noise.

I laughed, my own eyes misting over as I hugged her back. “He really did.”

My eyes scanned the field, searching for Joe. He stood in the center, his hands on his hips as he looked around, taking it all in. The confetti swirled around him, and for a moment, he looked almost frozen in time, like something out of a painting.

And that was the moment that I realized that I never stopped loving Joe Burrow.

JOE BURROW.

The confetti was falling, the cheers were deafening, and I stood in the middle of it all, trying to make sense of what had just happened.

We’d won. LSU was the national champion.

We’d worked so hard for this moment, sacrificed so much, and now it was real.

I took a deep breath, my chest rising and falling as I tried to steady myself. Around me, my teammates were celebrating, their voices blending into a cacophony of joy and triumph. Ja'Marr slapped me on the back, shouting something I couldn’t quite hear over the noise, but I nodded and grinned, my own excitement finally breaking through.

“Let’s go!” Ja'Marr shouted, slapping me on the back, pulling me out of my daze.

We made our way to the stage that had been set up in the middle of the field, the trophy gleaming under the bright stadium lights. I stood at the center, my hands gripping the trophy as I lifted it high above my head. The roar of the crowd was deafening, a wave of sound that seemed to shake the very ground beneath my feet.

As I lowered the trophy, my eyes instinctively scanned the sideline, and there she was.

Y/N.

She was clapping and cheering, her smile wide and radiant. Even from this distance, I could see the pride in her eyes, the same pride that had always been there, even when we were kids.

Without thinking, I handed the trophy to Ja'Marr and jogged toward her, my heart pounding for reasons that had nothing to do with the game.

“Joe!” she called as I reached her, her voice cutting through the noise like a beacon.

I didn’t stop to think. Wrapping my arms around her waist, I lifted her off the ground, spinning her in a circle as she laughed. Her laughter was warm and bright, a sound that made everything else fade into the background.

“You did it,” she whispered, her arms wrapping tightly around my neck as I set her back on the ground. Her voice was soft, but the emotion behind it was palpable. “I’m so proud of you, Joey. So, so proud.”

Her words hit me harder than anything else that night. I rested my forehead against hers, my hands still on her waist. “Thank you,” I said, my voice rough with emotion. “Thank you for being here. For always being here.”

She smiled, her fingers brushing against my jaw. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

For a moment, it was just us. The noise of the stadium, the chaos of the celebration—it all faded away. It was just me and Y/N, standing together in the middle of a championship.

DRAFT NIGHT, 2020.

Y/N

Joe’s childhood bedroom was cozy, almost nostalgic, with its Star Wars-themed decor still intact. The soft glow from the television screen illuminated the room, casting faint shadows over the familiar posters of Jedi knights and starships on the walls. It felt surreal to be here, lying beside Joe, knowing that tomorrow his life would change forever.

I rested my head against his shoulder, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest as we watched some random movie he’d picked. Neither of us was really paying attention to it; the sound was more of a background hum to our shared silence. His arm was draped lazily over my shoulders, holding me close. It was a small gesture, but it was enough to make my heart ache in the best way.

Turning my head slightly, I looked up at him. His face was calm, his lips curved into the faintest of smiles as he stared at the screen. I knew him well enough to recognize that he wasn’t truly focused. “Hey,” I said softly, my voice cutting through the quiet. “How are you feeling? About tomorrow, I mean.”

He shifted slightly, his gaze lowering to meet mine. “I’m good,” he replied after a beat, his voice steady but tinged with a trace of nervous energy. “Excited, mostly. I'm a little anxious, I guess. It still doesn’t feel real, you know?”

I smiled, reaching up to brush a lock of hair away from his forehead. “It’s real, Joe. And you’ve worked so hard for this. I always knew you’d be the first pick. You were born for this.”

His eyes softened at my words, the corners of his mouth lifting into a smile that made my chest tighten. “Thanks,” he murmured, his voice quieter now. “For saying that. For... always believing in me.”

I shrugged, trying to play it off as casual, though my cheeks warmed under his gaze. “It’s easy to believe in someone like you, Joe.”

The conversation fell into another comfortable silence, the kind that only existed between us. I felt his breathing slow and deepen as the minutes passed, and when I tilted my head to look at him again, I realized he’d fallen asleep.

I couldn’t help but smile at the sight. He looked so peaceful, so at ease, even with the weight of tomorrow hanging over him. Gently, I reached for the remote and turned off the TV, plunging the room into darkness save for the faint moonlight filtering through the blinds.

“Goodnight, Joe,” I whispered, snuggling closer to him. His arm tightened around me unconsciously, and I closed my eyes, letting the steady rhythm of his breathing lull me to sleep.

JOE BURROW.

The next day felt like a whirlwind. Hours blurred together as we prepared for the moment that had been years in the making. My parents’ living room was full of buzzing energy, with my family and a few close friends gathered around. The NFL Draft was finally here, and I was sitting on the same worn leather couch I’d grown up on, surrounded by people who had supported me every step of the way.

I glanced over at Y/N, who was perched on the armrest beside me. She was calm, her presence grounding me in a way I couldn’t explain. Every time my nerves threatened to creep in, I’d catch her eye, and she’d smile, a quiet reassurance that everything was going to be okay.

The draft began, and the room grew tense with anticipation. The first pick was announced, and hearing my name—"With the first pick in the 2020 NFL Draft, the Cincinnati Bengals select Joe Burrow, quarterback, LSU"—felt like an out-of-body experience.

I shot to my feet, the room erupting into cheers and applause around me. My mom was the first to hug me, her arms wrapping tightly around me as tears filled her eyes. My dad followed, clapping me on the back and grinning proudly.

As the celebrations continued, I noticed Y/N standing off to the side, clapping and smiling so brightly it could’ve lit up the entire room. I crossed the space between us, pulling her into a hug that was equal parts relief and gratitude.

“You did it!” she exclaimed, her voice full of pride. “Joe, I’m so proud of you. I knew you’d be number one.”

I pulled back just enough to look at her, my hands still resting on her waist. “I couldn’t have done it without you, Y/N. Thank you. For always being there, for... everything.”

Her smile softened, her hand brushing against my arm. “You don’t have to thank me, Joe. I’ll always be here for you. Always.”

Her words settled over me, grounding me in a way nothing else could. As I moved toward the computer for the online press conference, I couldn’t help but glance back at her, standing there with that same unwavering smile. She wasn’t just my best friend—she was my constant, my anchor, the person I trusted above all else.

When the conference ended, I didn’t go back to the crowd of family and friends. I went straight to Y/N. She stood as I approached, meeting me halfway, and for a moment, we just stood there, staring at each other.

“Thank you,” I said again, my voice quieter this time, meant just for her.

She reached up, her fingers brushing lightly against my jaw. “You’re going to do amazing things, Joe. I hope you know that.”

I smiled, leaning down to press a quick kiss to her temple. “Only because I’ve got you in my corner.”

Her cheeks flushed, but she didn’t pull away. “Always,” she repeated, her voice soft but certain.

At that moment, with everyone else celebrating in the background, I knew that no matter where this new chapter took me, as long as Y/N was by my side, I’d be okay.

BENGALS, 2023 – WRIST INJURY.

Y/N

I was there when the injury happened.

Not physically, of course—I wasn’t at the stadium. But when Robin called me, her voice trembling with an urgency that sent chills down my spine, it felt as if I was standing right there on the field, watching it unfold in slow motion. My heart felt every second of it.

“He got injured at the game. Come to our house as quickly as possible.” The words echoed in my mind as I sat in my car, gripping the steering wheel so tightly my knuckles turned white.

The phone call from Robin had come in the middle of my shift at the clinic. I had just finished helping a patient with their rehab exercises when my phone buzzed in my pocket. Seeing her name on the screen sent a chill down my spine. She rarely called, and never during the day.

Her words hit me like a ton of bricks. My knees wobbled, and I leaned against the counter for support, my chest tightening at the thought of what Joe must have been going through. Robin went on to explain that it wasn’t just a sprain or something minor. His wrist was fractured, the damage severe enough to require surgery.

I didn’t think twice. I grabbed my bag, clocked out without explanation, and headed straight for my car. The drive to Joe’s house felt like an eternity, every red light and slow turn taunting me. My thoughts spiraled as I imagined him sitting there, his dreams for the season crushed. Joe never let injuries get to him—he always pushed through—but something about Robin’s tone told me this was different.

When I arrived, the house was unsettlingly quiet. Robin greeted me at the door, her face pale and drawn, her eyes red from crying. She gave me a small, tight hug, whispering, “He’s in the living room. He hasn’t said much.”

I nodded, my throat too tight to form a response. Walking into the living room felt like stepping into a space that wasn’t meant for me—a room filled with tension, unspoken words, and too much pain. Joe sat on the couch, slouched forward, his injured wrist heavily bandaged. His head was bowed, his eyes fixed on the floor as if it held all the answers he was searching for

I hesitated at the doorway, taking in the scene. Robin, his dad, and a few others from his team stood nearby, their expressions somber. It felt as though the room itself was mourning with him. I swallowed hard, fighting the tears that pricked at the corners of my eyes. He didn’t need my pity. He needed me.

Slowly, I walked over and sat down beside him. The couch dipped under my weight, and for a moment, neither of us said a word.

“Joey...” My voice came out as a whisper, thick with emotion. “I’m so sorry.”

His shoulders trembled, and then, without warning, he broke. His head dropped into his uninjured hand, his entire body shaking as quiet sobs escaped him. I didn’t think—I just acted. I reached out, placed a hand on his back, and gently guided his head to rest on my lap.

“It’s okay,” I murmured, running my fingers through his hair in soothing strokes. “You don’t have to say anything.”

He didn’t resist, letting his head fall into my lap like we’d done countless times before, though this time was different. His shoulders trembled with silent sobs, and I felt his pain as if it were my own.

“They said it’s bad,” he finally croaked, his voice muffled against my leg. “The surgery... it’s tomorrow. They don’t know if…” He couldn’t finish the sentence, and my heart broke for him.

“You will,” I said firmly, my voice steady despite the lump in my throat. “You’re Joe Burrow. If anyone can come back stronger from this, it’s you. And I’ll be here every step of the way.”

He looked up at me then, his blue eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Why do you always believe in me so much?”

I smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair away from his face. “Because you’ve never given me a reason not to.”

JOE BURROW.

The hum of the hospital lights was a constant background noise as I lay on the gurney, staring up at the stark white ceiling. My wrist was throbbing under the layers of bandages, a dull reminder of everything that had happened. The thought of the surgery—of what came next—loomed over me like a shadow.

This wasn’t just a game. This wasn’t just a season. This was everything I’d worked for, everything I’d built my life around. And now it all felt like it was slipping through my fingers.

The nurses moved around me, their voices low as they prepared me for surgery. But the only person I cared about—the only person I wanted near me—was Y/N. She hadn’t said much since we arrived, but her presence was enough.

But then I looked to my right, and there she was. Y/N stood just a few feet away, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed, watching over me like she always did. Her presence was steadying, grounding, even in the chaos of the hospital.

“Yes, I’m his Physical Therapist.” She said for the nurse, filing some paperworks that they asked her to do it.

When the nurse left the room, Y/N moved closer, her sneakers squeaking softly against the tile floor. “Hey,” she said gently, her voice breaking through my haze of anxiety. “How are you holding up?”

I shrugged, trying to play it cool even though my nerves were shot. “I’m fine,” I lied, though the crack in my voice betrayed me.

She tilted her head, giving me that look—the one that told me she didn’t buy a word of it. “Joe, it’s okay to be scared. This is a big deal.”

I sighed, letting my guard down just a little. “I guess I’m... anxious. I don’t know what’s going to happen after this.”

She reached out, her fingers brushing against mine. “You don’t have to know right now. Just focus on one step at a time, okay? You’re not alone in this.”

Her words sank in, and for the first time all day, I felt a glimmer of peace. “I chose this hospital because of you, you know,” I admitted, my voice low.

Her brows furrowed in surprise. “Joe...”

“You’re the only person I trust with this,” I said, my eyes locking onto hers. “You’ve always been the one who kept me steady, even when everything else felt like it was falling apart.”

Her expression softened, and she gave my hand a gentle squeeze. “I’ll always take care of you, Joe. You know that, right?”

Before I could respond, the nurse returned, signaling it was time. Y/N walked beside me as they wheeled me to the operating room, her hand never leaving mine until the last possible moment.

“I’m going to be with you the whole time, ok?” She told me, as they walked me down to the surgery room.

I layed on the bed, seeing Y/N on the top of my head, backwards. She put her hands on my face, tracing my figure. She was the last thing that I remember before vanishing.

[...]

When I woke up, the world felt hazy, my thoughts swimming in and out of focus. The first thing I noticed was the absence of pain. My wrist was heavy, wrapped in layers of bandages, but the sharp ache was gone.

As my vision cleared, I saw her. Y/N was curled up in the recliner by my bed, her head resting against the armrest, her arms wrapped around herself. Her hair was slightly messy, and there were faint shadows under her eyes, but she was still the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. She looked exhausted, but even asleep, she was beautiful.

“Y/N,” I croaked, my voice hoarse.

Her eyes fluttered open, and the moment she saw me awake, her face lit up. “Joe! You’re awake.” She quickly got up and came to my side, her hand instinctively reaching for mine. “How are you feeling?” she asked, her voice soft and full of concern.

“Better,” I said, managing a small smile.

Her lips curved into a small smile, but I could see the worry lingering in her eyes. “I’ve been here the whole time, Joe.”

“I know,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “That’s why I’m okay.”

The room was quiet for a moment, the weight of everything that had happened settling between us.

For a moment, we just looked at each other, the silence between us filled with unspoken words. Finally, I took a deep breath, my heart racing as I decided to say what I’d been holding back for years.

I needed to do it. I couldn’t hold it anymore.

“Y/N,” I began, my voice steady despite the emotions swirling inside me. “I need to tell you something.”

“What is it?” she asked, her brows furrowing slightly.

“I love you,” I said simply, the words tumbling out before I could overthink them. She looked at me like I was saying I love you, you are my best friend “I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember.”

Her eyes widened, and for a moment, she just stared at me. Then, a slow, radiant smile spread across her face. “Joe... I love you too. I always have. You are my best friend.”

“No, Y/N, not like that. I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember,” I continued, the words pouring out of me. “And I know I should’ve told you sooner, but I was scared. Scared of losing you. But I can’t keep it in anymore.”

For a moment, she didn’t say anything, and I braced myself for the worst. Then, she smiled—a soft, radiant smile that made my chest ache.

“I love you since you showed up at my house wanting to play with your new neighbor. I love you since the time that you made me work with you to prom, or since the days you started cooking my after-game meals. God, I’ve been in love with you for ages. Since I can remember.”

Relief flooded through me, and I reached for her hand, pulling her closer until our foreheads touched. “I don’t know what I’d do without you. You are my first love, and you’ll always be, Joey. Every person that came to me was making me ready for you.”

“I don’t know how my life was supposed to be without you.”

“You’ll never have to find out,” she whispered, her voice full of certainty.

She got close to me, her lips touching mine in the most perfect kiss ever. Her mouth, all the memories, all the awake nights, all the jealousy and all the fights, it just faded away. I held her through her neck, making her get closer to me every second that was going by.

“We kissed each other at prom.” I told her, giving her another quick kiss. “I spent years of my life thinking it was just a dream, but one of my friends kinda told me it was true, last year. And I just kept it a secret waiting for the perfect moment to tell you.

‘You’re such a douchebag.” She laughed, “And that’s why I love you.”

“I’m never going to leave you anymore. Y/n, you are the best part of my life. It was always you.”

At that moment, I knew that no matter what the future held, as long as she was by my side, I’d be okay.

I finally had my girl in my arms.

#joe burrow #cincinnati bengals #joe burrow fan fic #joeburrow #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow fluff #joe burrow x reader #bengals

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iturmom · 1 day ago

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fuck it i'll explain myself real simple like line by line so everyone can understand because i'm sick of thinking about this.

1 idk who anthony bourdain is. my tags are not in response to him as a person or his character but what he is saying in this snippet of an interview. i still haven't looked him up and it doesn't matter because i am not making a character judgement of him. i don't give a shit about his character. his words were a conversation starter for me, nothing more.

2. it gives off alpha male vibes. does that mean he's an alpha male? no. am i suggesting he's friends with andrew tate? never. again i am saying nothing about his character, just the vibes of his words. people are so much more than just one out of context conversation.

3. judging a woman for how she eats is inherently misogynistic. she's been literally trained like a fucking animal since birth to eat dainty and be ashamed of everything. and now you're judging women for the way they were socialized in a patriarchal society where boys are allowed to eat like animals but girls get shamed for it. now a man is shaming girls for the way they've been conditioned. he's not only talking about his wife he is talking about women as a whole as if women are a monolith. because when you say something in a public forum like an interview in a famous publication i assume that is obviously seen by many people, when you suggest things about women, it can be internalized by every woman or afab who reads it. he should know this when he is speaking in public platforms. any public facing person should know this, i mean they make money off this fact

4. no one seems bothered by this one thanks

5. or this i guess?

6 7 & 8 i think i explained pretty well? i can clarify further tho

9. i don't eat for a man's entertainment or lack thereof i don't eat for men! fuck anthony bourdain for the tiniest annoyance of the slight implication that women's eating habits have anything to do with a man. i'm sure someone has said fuck anthony bourdain before and got drinks afterward with him. i imagine that's how celebrities live sometimes idk? so yeah i think he can handle an internet stranger saying fuck anthony bourdain on a post he'll never see? i don't think he cares really he has a lot of money

10. the implication is there bc he gave many examples which were exclusively meat, and one cheese which is. idk not much better? cause like i don't eat meat so is he suggesting that when i go on a date i'm supposed to order a whole block of cheese and just bite straight into it like an apple? no he's not bc he's not thinking about vegetarians bc it's impossible to go feral over a vegetarian burrito, over a veggie burger, is what i'm kinda taking from where his focus lies. doesn't eat meat= dainty= unsexy= bad. not necessarily in that order but these things seem to be implied.

after that i just devolved into irrational anger for the drama. i thought that was pretty obvious by wishing he steps on a lego and not wishing actual suffering on him..... sorry it didn't play very well i guess

also never said it was a joke. i don't do comedy. i was exaggerating my emotions for the drama. if you don't like people who exaggerate their emotions sometimes then my blog is not for you and that's okay!

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revelboo · 12 hours ago

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no requests, just wanna show my appreciation for your transformers x reader stories and your writing in general. keep up the amazing work and take time for yourself when you can 🩷

also have a sillie meme cuz your starscream x reader content feeds me well lol

Thank you! 💕 I’m glad you like my nonsense!

Bottom Feeder Pt 7

TFP Starscream x Reader

• Yawning, you settle more into the crook of his arm as he strides down the hall. Almost positive that he sees you as the alien equivalent to a tiny, purse dog and you want to be offended by that, but no one’s ever fawned over you like he does before. And it’s kind of nice even as a part of you is aware that you should be trying to escape for the sake of your dignity, not playing pet to an alien. “Oh, he acts all high and mighty,” he’s saying in his raspy voice as he rubs a servo between your shoulder blades. “But everyone knows he’s fragging Breakdown.”

• “No,” you whisper, sounding absolutely scandalized as you look up at him and his wings flick. Nodding at Knockout snarling at a couple of Vehicons for getting in his way and when you make a noise. Watches you break into a grin, barring those little teeth at him. And you’re cute for a little savage. How long has it been since he’s had this? Someone to talk freely with without the fear of them running to Megatron to repeat everything he says? He’s missed this. “You know you have to explain fragging.” Wings flaring slightly, he almost stumbles. “I need context.”

• Your big turkey somehow knows all the alien gossip. And he’s too eager to share. There’s just the issue of words not translating right. Like fragging. Because it almost seems like it’s alien slang for fucking and if these guys have sex, you’re morbidly curious about it. How does that work exactly? Oh, it absolutely means sex. It has to for how flustered he looks, grimacing and looking around like he’s afraid someone will overhear. “Don’t be obscene,” he hisses and you bite into the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing. Definitely sex.

• “You can’t just leave it at that. Inquiring minds need to know,” you counter, grinning up at him. Not caring. And that’s something he’s already figured out about humans, you’re inquisitive. Constantly asking about everything. “Do you guys have stuff downstairs?” Wings tucking close to his frame, he vents. Are you really asking about spikes and valves? You really are a little savage.

• “This isn’t an appropriate conversation,” he growls, looking nervously around. And he almost looks like he might blow a gasket, wings flicking. Alien sex and alien dick? He’s not going to just pretend he didn’t bring it up. You absolutely have to know now. Fascinated as you try to imagine if it’s actual dick or if it’s some weird, sci-fi lovecraftian horror going on downstairs.

• “That’s what makes it awesome. I need details,” you insist and he swallows a groan. Why had he let that slip about Knockout? Knows you well enough by now that you’re not dropping this ever. “Can I see yours for scientific reasons?” And he almost drops you, his loud, horrified ‘no!’ drawing everyone’s attention. Heads turning to stare at him as his wings tuck close to his frame. Speed walking away and pressing a servo over your soft mouth in case you blurt out any more wholly inappropriate things, he shudders. Don’t you have any sense of propriety? You don’t just ask to see someone’s spike. Who does that? Humans apparently.

#transformers x reader #starscream x reader #armada starscream

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ahgasegotarmy116 · 2 days ago

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Just Take It | Bonus Drabble 8

Summary: Your ex fiancé Jared has the audacity to show his face again, and no less showing up at your boyfriend's house asking you to take him back...and that just won't do. Pairing: Inexperienced f!reader x Best Friend's Dad Jungkook (20 year age gap) Word Count: 1.1k~ Warning: Mentions SA (didn't actually happen) a/n: barely edited per usual Requested by an anon 💜 Start from the beginning

"I got it" I call from downstairs, the doorbell resounding throughout the house with Jungkook yelling out a quick thanks from his office.

I open the door, forgetting to check the peephole and my face goes from friendly to shocked, not expecting to see his face again.

Or at least hoping I wouldn't.

"Who told you I was here?" I ask, crossing my arms over my chest, a defensive stance necessary to greet the terror that is my ex fiancé.

"Jina kinda let it slip when she called me the other day. Told me you had shacked up with her dad" he says, looking behind me to see if he's around.

"He's in his office and my relationship with him is none of your business, so if you wouldn't mind" I say and start closing the door on him.

"Wait! Wait okay I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said it like that. What I meant to say is that I miss you. I miss us" he starts and I couldn't hold back the eye roll even if I wanted to.

"You should've thought about that before you put your dick in my best friend" I say, not pulling punches and he sighs as if I was the one who did him wrong, infuriating me even more.

"I guess I deserved that" he says, looking disheartened, an expression I had never seen from him before, catching me off guard.

"You deserve a lot of things and my time isn't one of them" I say and try to close the door again but this time he places his hand on it, preventing me from doing so.

"Come on baby, you know you're the only one I care about. It was a mistake. I never meant for it to happen" he says, his tone a lot deeper and condescending as if he was trying to coax me into his way of thinking.

"So you just magically undressed her and yourself, slipped, fell and came in her? Is that it? I would say that's a pretty big fucking mistake there" I scoff, giving up on trying to close the door since he's clearly not gonna go down easily.

"And don't call me that" I growl, gritting my teeth, the pet name falling from his lips as though he expected me to take him back without any opposition.

"Can I come in? I just wanna talk" he asks, and before I can answer I feel Jungkook's strong hand on my waist, a wordless sign saying he'll take it from here.

"Wanna run that by me one more time?" Jungkook says, his possessive touch and the clear height difference between them laughable, Jared's lame efforts of winning me back being futile at best.

"I just wanted to talk to y/n" Jared mumbles to Jungkook, acting as if he wasn't the bastard that impregnated his daughter and is clearly trying and failing to win back the woman that he now calls his girlfriend.

"You wanna talk to him Bunny?" he asks me, completely disregarding Jared's wants and leaving the decision up to me even though he would rather shoot the boy where he stands.

"No, not at all" I say and turn to walk away leaving Jared calling after me but Jungkook steps in his line of sight, completely blocking me out.

"A word of advice, don't come around here again if you value your life" Jungkook warns looking down on him, Jared clearly uncomfortable and not expecting this kind of treatment because he's fucking delusional.

"What are you gonna do? Kill me?" Jared scoffs nervously, not knowing if Jungkook would truly be capable of something like that. "No, but I'm sure I could convince Jina to report you for raping her" I hear Jungkook say, his restraint wearing thin as this conversation continues.

"That's not true, plus you have no proof even if it was" Jared scoffs while staggering back, knowing that something like that could ruin him. "I'm sure I could find some. You know, being in my line of work and all" Jungkook says, crossing his arms over his chest as if begging Jared to try him.

"I thought lawyers were supposed to present evidence, not twist it to fit a false narrative they've come up with" Jared says, trying and failing to call Jungkook out on his bullshit. "Then you obviously know nothing about lawyers or the law" he scoffs and takes a step towards Jared, further intimidating him.

"Now I suggest you leave while you still can. I might not be able to keep my daughter from having to suffer through dealing with you but I sure as hell will keep you from y/n" he says, his jaw tense and posture stiff, visibly holding himself back, his patience with him wearing thin.

"She'll leave you eventually when she gets tired of your old ass" Jared spits out cowardly, his hand already reaching for the door handle on his car.

"That's a risk I'm willing to take" Jungkook says, cocking his brow while walking the tiniest bit closer. Jared hurriedly tries to open his car door but fumbles with his keys as he's forgotten to unlock it in his flustered state.

Jared's pursed lips contract, clearly trying to hold back the insults he'd like to throw out in fear of Jungkook making good on his threats before sucking his teeth and getting into his car, speeding recklessly down the road.

"He's gone?" I ask once Jungkook's come back in, sitting down and looking spent. "Yeah" he sighs, laying his head down on my lap, no doubt wanting me to play with his hair which I do on reflex.

"Seeing him makes me so angry but I could only imagine how it makes you feel" he says while flipping onto his back and looking at me from his reclined position.

"I've learned to let it go at this point" I say, giving him a soft smile. "Am I still repulsed at the thought of him? Yes, but I don't want to give him that power over me you know? Plus, no matter how horribly he went about it, he kept me from making the dumbest mistake of my life in marrying him and ultimately as a result led me to you" I say and caress his face, smoothing out the crease between his brows.

"You know, for being so young you can be a hell of a lot more mature than me half of the time" he chuckles. "Only half?" I smirk, knowing we both have our moments. "Some of the time then, happy?" he says pinching my cheek while looking up at me adoringly making my nose scrunch.

"I guess I'll settle for that" I roll my eyes, leaning down in the next moment to kiss him, the angle although awkward is no less meaningful and it's a kiss I know I'll cherish. One that reminds us both that no matter what life throws at us we know in our hearts that we'll make it.

Series Masterlist

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sunshine-dies · 23 hours ago

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hell yeah actually. i quite like the thought of SQH's System jamming out and glitching and randomly going "[...]" during the few times it talks to SQH because it's aware of the absence of another System which is supposed to be running. it's probably aware of an anomaly and can occasionally detect its effects but can't find it. maybe it coulld scan the whole world for errors - in that case, SY probably knows how to evade it, or to hide from it. maybe SQH's System only detects him if he's active, moving and interacting with the world, but if he freezes, kind of imitating a coma, he can't even be processed. SY should be able to sense the scanning process, he literally consumed his own System, which is now technically part of him, i'm shamelessly giving him all the benefits that could possibly entail. he probably knows that SQH is a transmigrator but he doesn't know who exactly he is. imagine when bingyuan run into SQH in the demon realm and SY reveals himself and addresses SQH as a transmigrator, to be exact imagine the moment SY realises WHO SQH really is. SQH is already fucking terrified of SY because, as he exclaimed upon first seeing SY take form, "what the fuck is that thing". now imagine his reaction to an eldritch-horror-god-creature-being raging at him for being a horrible money-grabbing writer. top tier comedy (he shits his pants). SY would probably help him out anyway? i don't know how he feels about systems, but the idea of him being conscious while he was left to fester in limbo, aware of the System running, maybe even able to interact with it and experience how apathetic it is - yeah. i imagine he'd have some pent up rage. that would make him all too happy to get rid of SQH's System although i suspect that, softie that he is, he'd do it anyway. it would also make so much sense for MBJ to just take control over the Demon Realm from then on, especially with his only real competitor uninterested in the throne. that is, if TLJ is still under the mountain. maybe SY would end up interfering with that too? take LBH there, have a weird charged and questionable conversation about father figures? much to think about. (imagine the catharsis of SY explaining what happened in HHP to TLJ. infinite knowledge in the hands of a compassionate person my beloved.)

repost of earlier svsss AU minus the art because i was rudely flagged down smh

art is now available on twitter!

my train stop for the arbour discord event! a lovely little monster!Shen Yuan AU with some classic obsessive affection from both Shen Yuan and Binghe, classic! i gave it the title "PIDW Playthrough: Easy Mode"

in this au Shen Yuan actually transmigrates well before Binghe is born. he's supposed to transmigrate into Shen Qingqiu's body (hence some silmilarities in facial shapes, as much as Shen Yuan currently has discernible facial shapes) but Shen Qingqiu is still very much alive and kicking (and still a street urchin), so the System hits a wall with where to put him. this causes Shen Yuan's soul to "fester" in a way, and grow into a virus that then turns on the System.

yes, he eats the System. as a treat for all the system haters out there. this means that he successfully consumes everything the System contained, including the mandatory story structure and information on nearly every parameter of the PIDW world, among other things. the only issue is that this information takes a lot of time and effort to actually digest, and it puts him in a kind of coma, which means he wakes up approximately a year into Binghe's tutelage and abuse on Qing Jing Peak.

Shen Yuan wakes up as a creature that exists in the blank spaces of PIDW, in the shadows and beneath rocks and in the dark night sky. he also wakes up incredibly weak, with barely any power and in a body that is formless and so undefined that he has trouble interacting with the world around him. he has knowledge though, a lot of it, and he uses it to find his way to Qing Jing Peak and to the woodshed where Luo Binghe sleeps. their first encounter begins with Shen Yuan sneaking in through the gap beneath the door, tugging a small jar of medicine with him. Luo Binghe's body recognises his presence as something ancient and eldritch, even as his mind struggles to see what's so scary about a puddle of shadows with two bright blue, rectangular eyes. and so the saga of Shen Yuan living in Luo Binghe's shadows begins. Shen Yuan gathers his strength while following Luo Binghe around, giving him advice after advice, teaching him, helping him practise. for every punishment Shen Qingqiu doles out, Shen Yuan commits a petty crime or two, although Binghe insists that it's fine. he's loyal to Shen Yuan now, who seems happiest when he manages to help Luo Binghe, and who teaches him more and better than any other hallmaster.

Shen Yuan goes on all available side-quests, saving Liu Qingge in the Lingshi-caves and assisting Luo Binghe and Cang Qiong as a whole during the demonic invasion. he's pulled into the dreamscape Meng Mo builds for Luo Binghe, where Luo Binghe once again refuses to take Meng Mo as his Shizun. when the Immortal Alliance Conference rolls around, Shen Yuan helps Luo Binghe in his battle with the Black Moon Rhynoceros Python when his cradle seal breaks, but hesitates when Shen Qingqiu is about to push Luo Binghe into the Abyss. he ultimately lets him, if only so that Binghe will finally be free from Shen Qingqiu's abuse. they fall together, Shen Yuan cushioning Luo Binghe's landing, and then they search for Xin Mo together. with Shen Yuan's knowledge it's laughably easy, and they resurface in the Demon Realm a few months later, where Shen Yuan insists that they spend some time in seclusion so that Binghe can grow into his new body and his new sword (which Shen Yuan somehow bullies into being relatively docile. he's an omnipotent eldritch monster, he can totally do that. i don't make the rules). neither of them says anything about how nice this seclusion is, or how they kind of don't want to go back to society ever again.

demonic heritage and Xin Mo mastered, they go on a roadtrip to absolutely demolish Mobei Jun and every other Demon King/Demon Noble/etc. and gain power in the Demon Realm. Shen Yuan insists that they do so for the sake of reaching Luo Binghe's "bright, glorious fate" (minus the wives, which he bristles at the mere thought of. his sweet Binghe is too good for those shallow women!). Luo Binghe is not sure he cares enough so long as he gets to curl up among Shen Yuan's silky-soft, gentle tendrils every night and gets to hear him ramble on about this or that random monster they came across. one day, as he's cleaning Xin Mo at the edge of a bloodied battlefield with Shen Yuan at his back telling him what a good job he did, he says so. Shen Yuan is confused - doesn't Binghe want power and riches and revenge? but Luo Binghe tells him he doesn't really care at all, so long as Shen Yuan stays with him.

that's as far as i thought, so cue the obligatory Shen Yuan freak-out (can a mass of non-binary but male-identifying shadows be gay? maybe it's better not to put a label on it) aaaand yeah they totally get married. they probably get a small cottage in the middle of nowhere relatively close to a village and live a quiet, happy existence for the rest of their lives, occasionally interrupted by this or that demon or cultivator appearing to kill Luo Binghe the demon emperor and bring his head back as retribution for his or her ancestors (Binghe totally ditched his half-assembled empire for that monster D. he does not give a fuck). maybe they go on adventures together. Shen Yuan gets infinite chances to infodump, and Luo Binghe stares at him with heart eyes as he listens. win-win.

cut to Shang Qinghua frantically panicking about where the protaginst is. nothing gets resolved, but at least bingyuan are happy, i guess. maybe Shang Qinghua gathers his energy and helps Mobei Jun usurp the throne instead. or not. what do i know.

#i didn't realise there was such a compelling prompt in my tags #i should probably check my tumblr more often #thank you for the opportunity this was fun #maybe i should write a fic about this #i definitely should #wish i could just manifest a fic with my thoughts wdym i have to write it

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peachyparkerr · 2 days ago

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spring into summer | art donaldson x female! reader

or loving art even if it hurts <3

based off the song by lizzy mcalpine!

tags: yearning, fluff, angst, no use of y/n, stanford!art to atlanta!art, love "triangle", kissing and stuff, maybe not 100% true to the lyrics might even be out of order, hopefully this is not too long and not too many mistakes lol i dont want to proofread, i made my own challengers timeline because i can, challengers will always be on the mind <3

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ a/n i hope you enjoy <3 plz be kind to me

Spring into summer, and the winter's gone I try to hold on to it, but the current's too strong Somebody finds me in the state I am Love you like I mean it when I know I can't

it’s a rainy day in late february at stanford. it’s cold, the fog’s coming in thick over the trees, and it’s hard not slip on the ground. all outdoor sports practices have been canceled or moved inside, and it’s probably the worst day to not have an umbrella or a rain jacket. art’s team practice had been canceled but he still wanted to work on his serve so he decided to practice at the indoor courts, he needed to blow off steam after being around patrick and tashi so much these days. their relationship is really weighing art down these days, so getting in the practice instead of taking a break seemed like an obvious time killer, he just hadn’t realized it was pouring this much. there was no way he was going to make it all the way to his dorm without being majorly drenched, so he decides to tackle the rain for the shorter walk between the indoor courts and the library and wait it out there. he’s definitely drenched when he enters the building, and it could be worse so he accepts it. the library’s fairly empty but he can’t quite decide where he wants to sit and if he actually wanted to do any studying at all, and then he sees you.

you, who is sitting cross legged in one of the big window nooks, headphones on with a book and laptop in your lap and in front of you but long forgotten as you watch the rain fall. he's seen you around before, but knows nothing about you, but you've always caught his eye. and seeing you right now watching the rain, in your own little world, is making his heart skip a beat more than it usually does when he sees you. suddenly, however much it sucks for him to always be around his best friend and his best friend's girlfriend that he secretly has been pining for all this time doesn't even matter to him. he doesn't even know your name, not yet at least, but he decides that he needs to. his legs are moving on their own accord as he makes his way to sit opposite of you in the nook.

he doesn't say anything at first, doesn't even ask if it's okay to sit there he just does even tho there are many open spots, and after what feels like forever of just looking at you looking out the window, you finally look his way.

"hi" he manages to speak out, voice just barely over a whisper.

"hi." you say back taking off your headphones. you have a bit of a confused look on your face but otherwise friendly. he'd never even heard your voice before but he thinks it's the most wonderful thing he's ever heard.

"i'm--" he goes to introduce himself nervously, but you interrupt him.

"i know who you are, art." you point out all soft and sweet and now he's embarrassed that he doesn't know who you are.

"you do?" he's flushing and running a hand through his wet hair.

"of course i do. we had a class together last semester and this one. you're also on the tennis team, right?" you laugh and say with ease. he's even more embarrassed now that he hasn't realized that he's had class with you this whole time but doesn't know your name, but the fact you're still giving him the time of day is encouragement enough for him to not run away right now.

he asks for your name and you give it to him with a smile and shake his hand. your hand fits perfectly in his, and he thinks your name is like a melody. the conversation that strikes up between the two of you is casual and easy, and you make him laugh in a way he hasn't in awhile. you tease him for not bringing an umbrella on the rainiest day, and he shakes his wet curls in your face like a dog just so he can hear your laugh again. if he could bottle up the sound and save it forever he would. but you offer to share your umbrella since as it turns out, you don't live that far away from him, and who is he to say no?

you guys huddle under the shared umbrella as you walk through the pouring rain, your hands brushing each other, making him feel all sorts of things. he's been in love with tashi all this time even if she can't be his, but something about your smile and simple kindness has him thinking just maybe he's not doomed at love. maybe he's getting ahead of himself, but as you guys reach his place and he insists on making it up to you for sharing your umbrella, he can't help but think this could be something good. who cares about tashi and patrick anyway?

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆

Hold it against me, cool to the touch Nobody knows what it's like to be us Somebody finds me in the shallow end Love you like I mean it just because I can

it starts slow. art can't quite decipher where his feelings for tashi end and where his growing ones for you begin, but he knows that he's drawn to you in a way he's never experienced before. he needed a distraction but thats not just what you are, what you're becoming to him, he thinks.

so he seeks you out more. finds a way to sit next to you in class. shares his notes with you, not that you need notes from him but he offers anyways. notices when you're feeling tired in class so he suggests getting coffee or a bite to eat after. sometimes you say yes, but other times you say no. you know he spends a lot of time with tashi duncan, star tennis player of the whole university, and sure she's dating his best friend, but you've heard the rumors. art's cute, but you don't want to get caught up in whatever that is.

but art's not just cute, he's sweet and effortlessly charming. he somehow just knows when you don't bring a drink to class and has one for you. he seeks you out in the library even though you know he's not really a scholar, and he offers to share his umbrella when its raining, which he always remembers to carry around now, even if its not raining hard, and even if he knows you have your own.

he's spending more time with you than he is with patrick and tashi. they don't really mind, even if part of them wonders what's going on with him. them not really minding has art feeling weird, because part of him still wants them to care, he wants tashi to care. but the rest of him is just glad that he's getting you to give him a chance. when it comes to you, the rest of the world seems to fade away for him.

before you even realize it, you've started to say yes to him every time he asks you to do something. you don't wait for him to seek you out in the library, you ask him to join you. you "forget" your umbrella just so you guys can share his. he takes the opportunities presented to him to shyly keep an arm around you or hold your hand, and when you don't tell him not to, he's never shy again.

the two of you are dating, even if it's not explicitly said. it's june now, and it seems like everything's really good and he's barely even thinking about tashi anymore. you're a welcome distraction but you're also everything and more to him. he wants to make you his, officially, and he's scared out of his mind to put a label on it but nothing would make him happier.

he plans this nice picnic on a rare sunny day. after indulging in some of your favorite snacks, he's laying on his back on the blanket, a baseball cap you got him on his head blocking the sun from his eyes, and you're on your stomach but resting your head on your hands on his chest, and you guys mindlessly talking about something. the sun's shining down on you so perfectly, the wind in your hair. he has no idea what you're saying at this point because he just can't stop looking at you. you're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen, and he longs to be with you even if you weren't with him. he feels so warm inside and out when he's with you.

he moves hair out of your face and he's interrupting whatever you're saying before he even realizes what he's saying.

"do you want to be my girlfriend?" he asks suddenly, still moving hair behind your ear. this wasn't part of the plan he had in mind today but here goes nothing.

"what?" you question with a confused and disbelieving laugh. he realizes what he's asked but he doesn't take it back, just smiles at you.

"i want to be your boyfriend, so i was just wondering if you'd want to be my girlfriend. like officially." he repeats, a little shy, a little nervous, albeit anticipating what you have to say.

"hmm like officially?" you tease, sitting up a bit, but smiling at him nonetheless.

"yea, like officially." he says simply, sitting up too, and gazing at you with that stupid grin he always has when he thinks knows he's getting what he wants.

you answer him by turning the hat on his head that you got him backwards and kissing him, soft and sweet. it's not the first time, but its definitely better than all the other times. he cups your face and kisses you back slow, happily and deeply. you hold a hand over his, your touch making him melt as usual. maybe everything is going to be fine.

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆

Taking a picture of all the people close to us Head below the surface, almost never certain of the truth (mm) I'm always, forever, runnin' back to you (you, ooh) Runnin' back to you (ooh) Runnin' back to you

you had become a plus one to art's place in his little trio. he had made it a point to include you whenever it felt like it was something he thought would be good. patrick was kind to you and was always willing to spill art's secrets to you. tashi talked to you, was friendly enough, but it's not like you were friends outside of this. you didn't have anything in common outside of your boyfriends. you didn't need her approval, but sometimes it felt like art did. you didn't want to question it, at least not out loud. it was just weird when you would go to his matches and after talking to you he'd ask her what she thought. maybe it's 'cause you're not a tennis player. that had to be the only reason. right?

but he was glad to have you come anyways. when you'd join for hangouts he he always said he played better when you were there. with you, he could hold his head high on and off the court. he wasn't always sure of himself in life or when playing tennis, but if he was almost certain of one thing it was that his heart beat for you. he kissed you like you were the oxygen filling his lungs before every match, always running to wrap you up in his arms as soon as it was over, win or lose. he always assured you you were his good luck charm, his best girl, the most important thing to him besides tennis. and you believed him. even when sometimes it felt weird to take pictures of just him and patrick and tashi when celebrating a win. they were important to him, you understood that, you just wanted to feel important too.

patrick and tashi weren't perfect individuals or a perfect pair but they fit. when he was away you didn't think it was that weird for art and tashi to get lunch just the two of them. art would relay to you that patrick and her sometimes fought, mostly about tennis, but other stupid stuff, and lunch was just a way for him to check in on her for his best friend since he couldn't be around. it was the truth. at least what he believed it was.

but when her injury happened, and patrick and her broke up, patrick's presence in art's life disappeared too. art wouldn't explain so you didn't want to pry more. you and art were still together, but this pit in your stomach started to form the more he was there for her during this tough time. he started being late or missing plans with you because he wanted to help her get back on the court or she didn't want to go to her physical therapy but obviously needed to so he'd take her to make sure she went.

one day, you and him were sat in your room. him on your bed, you leaning against your desk, keeping a distance from him. he wanted to reach out to you and pull you into his arms, make it all go away and show you that you were the one he wanted, but he knew he'd been messing up. you guys were supposed to do stuff today, but that didn't happen because he was with her.

"she had a rough day. i just wanted to be there for her." he said, defending himself after missing yet another hangout with you. he did feel guilty. he loved you. more than he could really put into words, but this felt like something he needed to do for her.

"i get that, i was just really looking forward to our plans. and you didn't call so i was just waiting around." you explained. you weren't mad, just disappointed, again.

"i promise we can go tomorrow. just you and me, i'll make it up to you." he pleaded, standing up and grabbing your hands. "i'm sorry. it won't happen again." he rested his forehead against yours, urging you to look at him. he believed in what he was saying. he knew he was pushing you away unintentionally, and he hated it, he just didn't know how to fix it sometimes. he just hoped it would work itself out and he didn't have to lose you. after all, he always came back to you at the end of the day.

"okay, tomorrow then." you sigh out softly, squeezing your eyes shut and squeezing his hands in yours three times as if to say the three words that seem impossible to say these days. he brings your hands to his mouth to adorn each individual knuckle with a kiss, before he presses a lingering one your forehead and hugs you, trying to make it all better.

and the next day, he follows through with his promise. but something has shifted. you both can't quite put your fingers on it, but it's there hanging over your heads.

he doesn't miss any more hangouts, but the amount of hangouts that get planned decrease. it's clear that tashi's not going to play tennis again. and she probably does need someone to lean on, more than she'd like to admit. sometimes she's seeking him out, but more often than not she doesn't have to because he's going to her anyway. you can't even hate her because it's not even her fault. it's not her fault that your boyfriend would do anything for her, the way he's supposed to do for you. the way he used to.

he loves you, and you love him, but it doesn't mean love is enough. not when this is happening. he'd never break up with you first, so you have to rip off the bandage.

it's february again and its raining out when you meet him outside his room. he doesn't exactly know why you asked to come here, or why you won't come in despite how wet you guys are becoming, but he has a feeling that it's not good.

"it's over, art." you say simply to him. his heart sinks in his chest, and he feels like he's going to throw up.

"why?" he asks, even if he knows the answer. he's getting drenched by the rain, the clothes he's wearing and the hat you got him sitting on his head probably getting ruined, but at least maybe the rain will conceal how he's about to cry.

"I just...can't anymore." you sound defeated and sad. he hates everything about this. he knows he's hurt you, but he doesn't know how to fight for you either.

"i'm sorry." that is all he can say, resisting every urge to pull you close and make this right.

"me too." you sigh out before leaving.

everything about this sucks. he knows a lot of it is his own fault. but he just can't do anything about it. so he goes back inside.

by june, him and tashi are already officially dating. he wishes she was you sometimes, often wonders how you're doing. but he doesn't reach out. he wanted to be the one to tell you that him and tashi were dating, he felt guilty about it and for some reason couldn't stand the idea of letting you find out through the grapevine. but he also knows you probably wouldn't want to hear from him anyway. so he doesn't.

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆

You're always gonna be someone that I want (oh) We have too many years between us If I could jump into the past, I'd only change one thing I'd never hurt you first, I'd never let you leave And now I'm here forever, runnin' back to you Always

two springs and summers had passed since the spring that you broke up with art. yet there's parts of him that are still holding onto the year you spent together, to the first spring he laid eyes on you in the library. him and tashi have been together for almost all this time. she never was able to play tennis again like she used to, but she'd become more than his girlfriend, now she was his coach. she shaped him into the player he needed to be to win the high profile titles he now holds. it wasn't that they weren't happy, the whole tennis community knew them to be a rising power couple, but the dynamic was different than it was with you.

tashi was beautiful, determined, rough around the edges and strategic. everybody knew her and wanted to be lucky enough to catch a glimpse of her light. he'd stood by her in her darkest time and she'd been standing by him at every win. pushing him harder than he'd ever been pushed towards greatness. she knew he needed tennis, especially if he couldn't have you, even if he wouldn't admit it. she wanted the greatness she couldn't have for herself for him and she was grateful to be able to be part of tennis and his life in this way. so sometimes it was easier for her to pretend they could love each other the way they should. the way he loved you and the way she loved tennis and patrick.

which brings him to the atlanta open. spring on this part of the east coast was nice and art was trying to enjoy it even he's still been feeling cold. his grandmother had died a couple months ago, leaving him her engagement ring, telling him to save it for someone special. those two things were weighing on his mind pretty frequently, especially because when you'd heard the news you reached out to him to give your condolences. you didn't have to say anything, but you were always the bigger person. it was one of the few times you and him had spoken over the years since you broke up. every single time fleeting and politer than he knew had earned and god did it make him miss you.

you, him, and tashi weren't at stanford anymore so there was no reason to see each other anymore, but the passing moments of inevitable running into each other on campus were things he looked forward to. but now you're all graduated, he hadn't seen you in person in about two years and ever seeing you again seems like it would never happen. his only choice is to focus on his skill, winning this open and the next, and tashi. he just wasn't sure if tashi was the special person his grandmother was talking about.

he had actually been looking for tashi when he headed down to the hotel lobby. he could've sworn he saw her sitting by a window, across from patrick, but not really wanting to deal with that he turns his attention to the fan that's called his name to ask for his autograph. when he turns back she's gone and he decides to get a drink anyway to wash down the long day he's had. he orders and that's when he now spots you on the other end, suitcase in hand and ordering the same drink he knows you always have.

art doesn't even know how long he's been frozen in place, taking you in, until you notice him too. you smile and before either of you notice you're sitting next to each other at the bar. you're the same, but different, better, even, if that was even possible. he's always thought you were perfect. he knew he loved you for all that you were before, but he's sure now more than ever that he's never stopped.

by pure coincidence, you're passing through on a work trip and are being put up by your company in the very same hotel. the more the two of you talk he doesn't think this is coincidence, he's convinced its fate. that the universe wants the two of you to be together. when some hair falls in front of your face as you laugh, a sound he hadn't realized he's missed so much even if it's been on replay in his mind all this time, he instinctually moves it behind your ear. he's barely realized he's done it until you're looking at him all wide eyed and he pulls his hand back. suddenly you're pretending to be tired, telling him it was great to catch up and to give tashi your best, and trying to leave.

his heart drops to his stomach at the possibility of losing you again and before he can convince himself it's a bad idea, he's begging you to meet him here tomorrow after your conference and after his match.

"i don't know...what about tashi?" you voice your concern and he hates that you're hesitating but he understands.

"i have no right to ask you to do anything for me, but i promise that if you meet me tomorrow i'll figure it out. i just can't let you go like this. not again." he's pleading with you, grabbing your hand. your skin is cool to the touch but he's burning up inside at the chance to be with you again.

you don't know if you can trust him, and you're not sure if you can handle being hurt by him again, but you've always had a soft spot for him, so you agree anyway.

his heart's racing as he returns to his own room. seeing you is something straight out of a movie, and he knows he's making no sense but he'd messed up once and he rather take a risk now then hate himself for the rest of his life. when tashi returns with patrick's cologne on her skin and asking if that was me she caught a glimpse of earlier, her and art both know its over. they'll keep it out of the press and if he'll find another coach if that's what he wants. usually they'd fight each other on this but they know they can't go on like this.

the next day he waits anxiously. watching the clock tick away. it's only ten minutes after the time you agreed to meet and he's scared you're not coming. he's bouncing his leg as a coping mechanism until you're walking in. he's nearly falling out of his seat as he stands up to meet you.

"you came." he stammers out taking you in.

"i wasn't sure if i should." you admit quietly.

he nods and momentarily takes off the baseball cap he's wearing to run a hand through his hair nervously. you know it's the one you gave him in college but you don't point it out.

"i get it. but i'm glad you came."

"so...you wanted to talk?' you ask awkwardly, unsure of how to navigate this. he nods again and suggests walking outside.

it's quiet at first, even as your arms brush each other's as you walk. but he stops suddenly, turning towards you, knowing that if he doesn't say anything now he might never.

"i'm sorry. for everything. " he begins to say, you try to interrupt and tell him it's been a long time but he doesn't let you continue, needing to say this. "i need you to know that i regret everything. that it's over with tashi, that it has been long before today. i had this idea that i needed her and i could still have you and i was wrong. i never needed her and i wasted so much time thinking that when the only person who was ever it for me was you. "

art's words are earnest and the tears in his eyes match the ones in yours.

"i don't hold it against you. i just wish you would've fought for me. for us. all i've ever wanted was for you to see yourself the way i did." you sniffle out. art's always had this sincere side to him, but it's been so long since you've seen it that it's just a lot to process.

"i know and i'm sorry. i'm so goddamn sorry that it took me losing you to understand that i've never wanted anything else than to be yours. " he cries, cupping your face, his thumbs wiping the tears there away.

art realized too late that he should've fought for you. you, who was always so patient and kind and accepting of who he was in and out of tennis. you, who was soft and thoughtful in ways he didn't think he deserved and taught him you can want things and get them without being so hard on yourself. he was the one who was lucky to be in your light, and he couldn't even blame you for leaving. he just wished he hadn't pushed you away, that he wasn't simultaneously an ass and a coward for letting you slip through his fingers. but this is him fighting for you now, and he was praying to a god he wasn't sure he always believed in that this was his chance to make it right.

"if you'll have me, i want to fight for you. i'll spend everyday for the rest of my life fighting for you, proving to you that i want you, that...i love you. i can't lose you again." he's still holding your face in his hands, gazing into your eyes and hoping that you can understand just how much regret he's been holding in, that you'll say something that'll make him stop shaking right now.

you bring a hand to move some hair that is stuck to his face from under the brim of his hat. he leans into the touch as you rest your hand on his own cheek, shivering at how it feels after all this time.

"you're always going to be someone that i want." you say softly.

and that's all it takes for him to surge forward and press his lips to yours. from that point on, he never feels cold again. and by next summer, his grandmother's ring is on your finger.

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆

Summer is falling, it's a distant dream If I turn around, you're runnin' back to me

a/n i kinda hate this but i needed to write it! plz be kind! likes and reblogs appreciated!

#art donaldson #challengers #mike faist #patrick zweig #art donaldson x reader #josh o'connor #zoewrites<3 #luca guadagnino #challengers 2024 #challengers fic #zendaya #tashi duncan #lizzy mcalpine #spring into summer #challengers movie #art donaldson fanfic #art donaldson fluff #art donaldson angst

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