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cricket-reader · 11 months

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Mutual Agreement

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Summary: whilst on a mission, you and Bucky get caught in the cold. Your body doesn’t handle the temperature well, being you’re not a supersoldier. Your state brings back memories of Bucky’s life before Hydra, making him fear for your health.

Warnings: language, hypothermia, crying, mentions of death, fluff

Word Count: 1,551

Prompt: Delirium | Hypothermia | Stabilisation

A/N: Day 4 of June of Doom by @juneofdoom

Bucky never showed his emotions. He was a closed book, and he intended to keep it that way. But that all shattered to pieces one fateful mission.

You and Bucky had been assigned to take down an abandoned Hydra base in Russia. Bucky had wanted to go alone, but Steve insisted that he went with a partner. That partner just so happened to be you, the girl that Bucky admired from afar.

You were strong, intelligent, and beautiful. He admired you for that and all the good you had done. You were better than him in every single way.

Finding and destroying the base was an easy matter. It was abandoned, therefore, there were no surprise attacks. It was the perfect mission. No injuries, no deaths, and most importantly to Bucky, not even a hair on your head was harmed.

Things only went downhill from there.

The getaway vehicle you had parked in the forest refused to start again. It didn’t matter what Bucky did, the vehicle refused to start up. On top of that, it was freezing in the vehicle. Almost as cold as it was outside, without the wind, of course.

If your shivering was anything to go by, Bucky knew you both couldn’t stay there. On his GPS, the safe house wasn’t far away. The supersoldier could make it on foot no problem. He just wasn’t so sure about you.

Internally, his thoughts were running rampant. On the outside, he looked as calm and collected as usual.

“We shouldn’t stay here. Do you think you can walk to the safe house?”

You bit your lip. “Sure.”

Bucky didn’t trust the tone of your voice whatsoever, but he didn’t let it show. He had to get you to warmth before he lost you.

You both exited the useless vehicle, and trudged your way towards the cabin.

It didn’t take long for your hands to start shaking, and your steps to begin faltering. You had to stay strong, though. You couldn’t face the embarrassment of failure in front of a teammate that you swore hated your guts.

The feeling in your face as well as your feet had long since vanished. Your fingers hadn’t had feeling since you reached the vehicle. These were not good signs, but you resigned to deal with it since the cabin was coming into your view.

Bucky noticed you lagging behind before you did. His heart raced, wanting to pick you up and bolt to the cabin where he could get you warm. He knew, however, that you would not like that notion. You’d probably smite him if he dared lay a finger on you. You liked your space, hating when people invaded it. Because although you were kind, you too had boundaries. Physical touch just happened to be yours.

It wasn’t until you tripped and fell into the snow that he decided, “screw that” and picked you up from the ground. You were trembling so hard, as cold as ice and it fucking scared him.

You let out a small noise of protest as he gathered you in his arms and began to run to the cabin. You could do it yourself. You just needed a little rest, that’s all.

Bucky slammed the door to the cabin open and slammed it shut before running to set you on the ground. He took off your soaked jacket and boots. You gently pushed him away, not really able to put any force behind it. “I can do it myself,” you muttered indignantly.

Whilst Bucky usually loved your sense of independence, it only served to frustrate him. He pouted with his signature grumpy face, arms crossed and all. He watched you peel off your drenched socks. Your fingers were still trembling.

He just wanted to help. You turned to go to one of the rooms, hoping to find a new pair of pants that weren’t wet.

You overestimated your ability to walk. Tripping over nothing probably had to be the most embarrassing thing you had ever done in front of Barnes. He didn’t hesitate to catch you. In Bucky’s arms you wanted nothing more than to melt into a puddle of shame.

Bucky muttered something to himself as he carried you to the nearest room. He set you on the ottoman in front of the bed before going to ruffle through the closet. He found some clothes for you to wear.

He turned around to give them to you, so you could change yourself. When he saw you falling asleep, he dashed to your side. You couldn’t fall asleep on him now. “C’mon, wake up,” he muttered, not a trace of worry evident in either his tone or on his face. He was determined to keep calm in front of you. Freaking out would do no good.

You blearily opened your eyes. It was so cold. Why were you so cold? You were in the warmth now. You should be fine.

“I’m gonna change your clothes now, okay? Is that alright?” Bucky asked. He didn’t want to do anything without your consent, but if worse came to worse, he would have to. He just needed to stabilise you before things got any worse. You just groaned in response. Cursing under his breath, Bucky dutifully peeled off your pants and dressed you in the sweats he had found. He left your shirt on, since it wasn’t affected by the snow. He didn’t want to do anything more. Not without your consent.

In your state of delirium, you barely noticed that he had picked you up and carried you to bed. You barely noticed the way he took care to wrap you in multiple blankets.

When you woke up, you were incredibly warm. You were also practically trapped in a cocoon of blankets. Groaning, you unwrapped yourself from the layers upon layers of blankets.

You tiptoed your way into the hallway. Looking around, you didn’t see Barnes anywhere.

You furrowed your brows when you heard a muffled sound coming from the bedroom down the hall.

You creeped to the door and pressed your ear against it. You could hear ragged breaths and choked sobs coming from behind the door. It had to be Bucky. No one else would be out here. However, you’d never seen him cry. He always was so strong given what he’d been through. He was resilient. So what could have prompted his tears? Did he have a nightmare? You knew from Steve that he was struggling with them. Your hand hesitated at the door handle. How you longed to go in there and comfort him, to wrap him in your arms and tell him he was safe now. But you knew he was a private person. He hated it when people saw him vulnerable, and you didn’t blame him.

All it took to break your hesitance was a sob.

Bucky had a hard time keeping everything in. He didn’t mean to let it out, but god he couldn’t help it. Seeing you look so pale and weak, your ice cold skin and shivering body… it reminded him of Steve. Little Steve back when they were kids. He thought Steve was going to die that cold January night. Bucky had stayed with him the whole night, praying to anyone that would listen to not take away his best friend.

It was like history was repeating itself and just the thought of you dying tore him to shreds. Now, Bucky didn’t believe in any god, not after all he went through with Hydra, but you bet your ass he had prayed. He didn’t get too far before his emotions caught up with him, hitting him head on like a bus.

That led him to the moment where you burst through the door. Your concerned features swept Bucky’s distraught figure. He was in the corner of the room, curled up into a ball. He didn’t even notice you, too busy trying to get air into his lungs.

Your heart tore at the sight of him so broken. You gently moved up beside him and kneeled just a few feet away. “Bucky?”

His red, watery eyes looked up at you like you were a ghost. Those eyes widened as he scrambled to make himself look like less of a mess. He sniffled back his tears and ran his hands over his eyes. Red creeped onto the tips of his ears and the back of his neck, completely ashamed you were seeing him like this.

His body froze when you wordlessly wrapped your arms around his body. He wanted to cry all over again. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had held him as if he were something precious. It took him a few seconds before he returned the gesture, hesitant to touch you. He could hurt you… or what if this was all just a figment of his imagination. Bucky didn’t want your tender hold to disappear.

You both stayed wrapped in each other’s arms for the rest of the night. Not a word needed to be said between you both. In your silence was a mutual agreement. An agreement that no one had to know about Bucky’s meltdown. An agreement that you wouldn’t ask questions. An agreement that this is what both of you needed. Some comfort.

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lets-try-some-writing-draws · 5 months

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Human lives are short.

And that is a harsh reality for young Sirius.

#maccadam #transformers #digital art #transformers prime #fan art #alternate universe #tfp kids as sparklings #jack darby #june darby #I started this like a month ago and it sat in my drafts forever #my hands kept hurting while working on this so I apologize if the quality is less than spectacular #anyway here yall go #angst

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bicheetopuff · 2 years

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Here’s an upsetting realization to leave you guys with before bed:

Katsuki was kidnapped by the league in July

Izuku left UA in April

It’s an insignificant detail but it was definitely intentional. Hori, you angsty bastard🥲

#bakudeku #midoriya izuku #bakugou katsuki #bkdk #bnha #i know we don’t know the exact days they left but I wouldn’t put it past hori to make it so that they both left on each others birthdays #also if you wanna get really technical #Izuku had ten months of training before the entrance exam in February #meaning that the sludge villain attack also happened in April #oh and Japan starts school in April meaning that DvK1 also happened in April #how much you wanna bet Katsuki HATES his birthday now?💀#Izuku probably hates his too even though he’s only had one bad birthday that we know of #although I think it’s safe assume that the arc we’re in now takes place around June or July considering that he left UA in April #hori pls stop my heart can’t take it (read as: pls keep going I love the angst)

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lets-try-some-writing · 8 months

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I had an ANGSTY idea

I imagine a scene where it's just a normal day at the base where the children are just hanging out and talking with their guardians (optimus and ratchet are over seeing decepticon activity)

somehow the topic of how long humans lives are comes up. The kids are oblivious to what they just revealed to the bots and seconds after this fact is shared all the bots freeze with realization and horror dawns on them.

Now whenever the bots are with the kids they act more happier and more willing to do what the kids want (and alot more protective) but under the facade is nothing but depression and sadness (the kids still oblivious)

Oh and optimus has a breakdown since he sees them as his own sparklings

Angst my old friend. I love this concept.

━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙ ━━━━━━━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙

It was not exactly a secret when it came to the short lives of organics compared to Cybertronians. The team were well aware that most organics tended to only live as long as a few centuries at best and possibly a millennia or two with technological adaptations. For them the lives of organics were still but a passing wind, but at least with a few centuries there was time for Cybertronians to grow close to their organic comrades. The team had each met other organics before and during the war, they knew how the organics near Cybertron worked for the most part. Thus they were not particularly concerned with the humans, although they did wonder why they grew so quickly and seemed to deteriorate with such swiftness when they had centuries left ahead of them.

The team largely did not think too much on the biological functioning of the humans and instead focused on their work. Despite that, eventually one particular Prime found himself uncertain.

Optimus found it particularly confusing how humans seemed to die so young all the time. In his free time he took joy in reading documents from Earth and learning their history. It seemed all of Earth's influential people died young. Julius Caesar, Mark Antony, Plato, Socrates, Sun Tzu, George Washington, and so many other influential figures, all dead before their second century of life. It concerned the Prime greatly, especially upon noting how involved the children, June, and Fowler were becoming in their activities. If there was some sort of genetic issue or other ailment that killed off those with influence, he needed to know immediately.

He brought his concerns to Ratchet who in turn gathered the attention of the team. This concern quickly spread and so as one unit the team researched human lives and reasons for offlinement. Before too long they came to the startling conclusion that almost every recorded human life ended when the human in question was around a century old. Some older religious and mythological records indicated that once upon a time humanity could indeed live for centuries, but that seemed to no longer be the case. Seeing this, fear for their charges wormed its way into the sparks of the team. Why were the humans dying so young? What happened to humanity to shorten their lives so drastically? Were their young charges doomed to die in the same manner?

Those questions haunted the team and in the end they decided to simply ask the children to see if there was some form of cultural misunderstanding causing them distress. The children were of course a little confused and it ended up being June who had to explain as the team huddled around, eager to understand and see if there was any way to stop the impending deaths of their wards.

Optimus: I have studied your history and it seems in the last few millennia humanity has failed to live longer than a century at most. Why is that?

June: We only live so long Optimus. We aren't big metal aliens from space like you.

Ratchet: That is true, but we have met organics before. Those that interacted with Cybertron before the war generally lived at least two centuries.

June: I-

Bulkhead: Is there some sort of illness killing you off?

Arcee: Maybe a conspiracy? I've heard of some organic civilizations killing off the older members of their population.

Bumblebee: *Is someone hurting you? We will stop them in that case!*

Optimus: Bumblebee is correct. If your race is under threat, we will gladly assist in stopping the needless death.

June: What? No. What you read are old myths, stories made up by humanity during various ages. They aren't real, we don't live much longer than a century and we never have.

Ratchet: What? But your historical records-!

June: Stories Ratchet. Just stories. Humans usually live around ninety years before we die. That is just the way of things.

Bulkhead: Then the kids-

June: Just like every human before them, they will grow old, and then when their time is up, they will die.

Not a word was uttered at the team slowly scattered, each considering what had been revealed to them. Suddenly a great deal had changed, and not a spark could change things.

Arcee had lost plenty of partners over her long life, but a human? And to old age of all things? She was terrified of that end. She would have to watch as he deteriorated and his frame failed him. How could she look at Jack and not imagine the way his skin would gain wrinkles and how his youthful energy would fade away into the bone deep weariness she observed in the elder humans she noted from a distance. A century was not long, it was hardly the Cybertronian equivalent of a year. Her boy was going to perish before she knew it, and there was not a thing she could do to stop it. Tears were useless, and yet in the quiet of her quarters she wept until she steeled herself. She would give her boy all the affection and care she could over his lifetime, and hopefully in doing so, she could ease the ache of loss that was to come.

Bulkhead was left not as grieved and more saddened above all else. It was easier for him to handle the concept of youthful deaths in organics due to his long service with the wreckers and their allies. He was not upset at Miko dying long before him. No, what saddened him was that she would never have the chance to be a wrecker on a restored Cybertron. By the time their world was restored and things put into motion, he small body would have deteriorated enough to make being a wrecker near impossible for her, at least if she wished to be active. That chance was going to be denied to her because of her fleshy frame, and that above all else had him offering as much opportunity to let her be a wrecker as possible. She would not see the height of Cybertronian military and rescue efforts, but she would have a taste of it, that was his promise.

Bumblebee for his part panicked. He knew organics didn't live long, but he had not expected Rafael's life to come to an end so soon. If Rafael lived according to human standards, he would be dead before Bumblebee's next forging day. He had grown to care deeply for the child, and so while he was no fool and well used to death and the concept of it, his spark still panged with loss. Not knowing what else to do, he threw himself into spending time with Rafael as much as he could outside of patrols and battles. If his friend was going to die so soon, Bumblebee was going to try and be there as a comfort for as long as possible. He tried not to think about the fact that his human companion would perish and silenced any discussion of it when he could. He knew Rafael and every other living being would die eventually, he saw death, he was well acquainted with it, and yet still he was not fond of inviting it by considering it too deeply.

Ratchet was neither particularly shocked or upset, but he was somewhat saddened as he looked over June and the children. He was old, very old. He had been around far longer than even Optimus. Death was not a stranger to him, and he merely found himself nodding along when June spoke the truth. There was nothing to be done and he doubted the children would care for augmentations to extend their lives when all their peers would perish long before they would in that situation. He merely sighed and came to be more gentle with the children. They were incredibly young, even by the standards of their own species. They would not live to see their star go out, and that was likely for the best. To him it was best to let them live a life not burdened by the concept of eternity.

Optimus was quiet after the revelation. He kept to himself for a time, thinking, contemplating, and considering. He knew that his organic charges were not to last, but he had not expected their lives to be so short. His spark cried within him, saddened at what was in his mind, the imminent deaths of several sparklings. He knew of cases where sparklings came from the Well too weak to last. In those situations they were tended to with love and care until at last their small frames failed them and they returned to Primus. It was not the same since the humans would be able to live up to their full potential by their species' standards long before death came for them. But to a Cybertronian? They would not last longer than a Cybertronian year, and that brought him grief. There had been no young for so long, and now those he had come to care for were going to perish so soon? He did not like to consider it and so locked the sorrow away and followed Ratchet's lead, tending to the humans with gentleness and grace.

In response to the team's conflicting emotions, the children found themselves treated with far more kindness than before. Jack was given rights to ride with Arcee far more often and no longer did she try to dismiss him as much. Bulkhead, and later Wheeljack once he understood the situation, took every care to train Miko as a true wrecker, giving her weapons and opportunity she would never have otherwise. Bumblebee went out of his way to speak with Rafael, to tell him stories, and to otherwise speak of all he had seen in order to give his human ward a vision of that which he would never experience due to his short life. Ratchet did not change his behavior much, but he was less hasty in his wrath and spoke to June, more willing to learn human medicine and customs. Optimus fell to offering gifts and wisdom to the humans under his care. He could not be there for them as he would with normal sparklings, but he could show them wonders and offer the wisdom of ages long gone by.

The children found it strange but did not object to the additional attention until it started to grow somewhat suffocating. Only then did they ask why.

Jack: Look, as much as I like being able to go for rides whenever I want, why are you being so nice?

Miko: Yeah, and why are you being so... sad about everything?

Rafael: Is something wrong?

Arcee: Its nothing like that we just-

Ratchet, glaring at the rest of the team: You humans do not live long, at least not compared to us. You lives hardly make up one of our years. They are trying to treat you gently because they are upset about it.

Bulkhead: Well that's a bit of an exaggeration-

Ratchet: No its not.

Jack: Wait, so you mean that since we are going to die eventually, you are being nice to us?

Rafael: We are only teenagers, we aren't going to die anytime soon. There's no need to be sad.

Bumblebee, close to tears: *But there is! You are going to be dead in just over a year for us! And we can't do anything to stop it!*

Miko: Oh, so you are upset because we won't live as long as you.

Optimus: That would be correct... We have not had young of our own since Cybertron fell, and that was many vorns ago. To have you children in our lives has given us hope, and to now know you will not linger with us... we are sorrowful.

Ratchet: Don't stress yourselves over it.

There was little else to say after that revelation, but the children did what they could to comfort their functionally immortal guardians. It wasn't much, but a smile and a thank you every now and then eased the sorrow the team were blanketed in. The humans would die within the blink of an eye for a race from beyond the stars. But that did not stop them from enjoying what time they had.

#transformers #maccadam #transformers prime #team prime #optimus prime #ratchet #bumblebee #arcee #bulkhead #tfp kids #miko nakadai #jack darby #rafael esquivel #june darby #angst but also not quite #I am writing this while sick as all get out so lets see if this even turns out good #here's your kinda but not quite suffering

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junkissed · 1 year

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a boyfriend for christmas

member — best friend!wonwoo x reader genre — friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, fake dating, angst, fluff, maybe a teeny bit suggestive if you read it upside down and backwards word count — 2.5k warnings — oh boy there's a bit of Angst, but it's resolved asap don't fret, possessive wonu (but it's healthy i promise), feat. coworker!mingyu who kinda gets thrown under the bus oops notes — requested by @glowonu — for my winter wonderland event: wonwoo + "a boyfriend for christmas". it is entirely possible this one may have an nsfw sequel but i make no promises!! hope you enjoy, please lmk if you do :)

one reblog = one best friend turned boyfriend

“won, i need a favor.”

your sweet voice spouts from the speaker on wonwoo’s phone, and he grins. it’s always a good day when he gets to hear your voice. “what kind of favor?”

“i need you to be my boyfriend for christmas.”

he raises his eyebrows. “excuse me?”

“listen, just hear me out. please.”

the desperation in your voice is enough to make him pause and wait for you to explain. he’s known you long enough to know that you wouldn’t call out of nowhere and make a statement as crazy as this without good reason, but he still can’t say the offer isn’t… interesting.

when you realize he hasn’t hung up on you yet, you rush to tell him what happened.

“so, you remember i told you about kim mingyu, my coworker?” you start hurriedly.

“mhm,” he says, tone deadpan. he’s never liked mingyu, since the first time he hit on you at the party you held when you were first hired. it was your dream job, one you’d been working towards your whole life, and he was so incredibly proud of you. and you were proud too; you loved your job, except for one thing: your prick of a coworker, mingyu. sure, maybe he’d never technically done anything other than annoy you, but wonwoo had a bad feeling about him from the start.

“well, you know he keeps flirting with me and he wanted me to be his—date,” you whisper the last part, as if it’s a terrible secret, though wonwoo can’t understand why, “for the office christmas party, and—”

“why didn’t you tell him yes?” wonwoo interrupts, almost bitterly.

you frown into the phone at his response. why would he want you to say yes? “because? i don’t like him that way and he makes me vaguely uncomfortable? what more do you–”

“so why am i involved, then?” he interrupts again.

you narrow your eyes, though he can’t see you. “why are you being so bitchy?”

the silence you’re met with makes you furrow your eyebrows even more. “fine, i don’t need your help,” you huff, slamming the ‘end call’ button.

an awkward few seconds pass while you attempt to process what just happened, fighting back tears you’re too angry to cry.

the sound of your ringtone startles you out of your annoyance, and you hesitantly accept the call.

“what do you need me to do?”

wonwoo still feels a little guilty about how he responded. after you’ve explained your plan, but it really isn’t his fault.

you want him to go with you to the annual christmas party and pretend to be your boyfriend so mingyu might finally get the message you’re not interested and leave you alone. take a couple pictures together to post online, get cozy at the open bar, go home together at the end of the night where wonwoo will drop you off at your house like nothing ever happened. a simple plan, over and done with in a few hours, max.

it really isn’t his fault because of the massive crush he’s had on you, his best friend, since you were teenagers. and yeah, maybe he’s been working up the courage to ask you out for the last six years and you basically doing it for him was a blow to his pride and he reacted badly. he doesn’t want to be your fake boyfriend, he wants to be your real boyfriend.

but you had asked him because you trusted him, and he wasn’t about to let you down, especially when someone like your bratty coworker was involved. maybe he’ll finally get it through his thick head that you’re too good for him, wonwoo thinks, maybe a bit more cruelly than the man deserves.

it had been a tuesday night when you’d called him, and as the days inch closer to the friday night party, he can’t help but grow more and more anxious.

would it be too forward if he treated this one-time thing like practice for the future (if he can ever bring himself to actually ask you)? or should he act stoic like he always does and pretend his heart isn’t beating out of his chest when he thinks about people seeing him with you and thinking you’re together?

he knows it’s not that formal of a party, more like after work drinks among coworkers, but some part of him wants to look his very best. maybe it’s some man thing, needing to show off in front of mingyu that might get him to back off. but maybe it’s not for mingyu at all; maybe it’s for you, like if he proves he’s attractive enough, then you might want him like he’s wanted you so badly all these years.

and yeah, maybe it’s crazy that he spent half his savings account on getting a custom-tailored suit for just a couple hours at some cheap bar in the city, but he’s never been one to back down from a challenge and he’s not about to start now. even if the challenge is only in his head.

friday night rolls around before you know it, and as the clock counts down the minutes until wonwoo is supposed to show up at your front door and take you to the christmas party, you’re still standing frozen in front of your closet, struggling to find something to wear.

do you go all out and wear your sexiest cocktail dress? is that trying too hard? wouldn’t that have the opposite effect of what you’re trying to do here?

or, do you go for the wallflower approach and wear a simple, modest pantsuit, hoping you won’t be so boring you push wonwoo away for good?

unbeknownst to you, somewhere on the other side of town, wonwoo is having the same dilemma, wondering if all that money on a fancy outfit was really worth it.

you both sigh, anxious to get the night started and for it to end.

truthfully, the situation with mingyu isn’t nearly as massive as you’ve played it up to be. you wouldn’t dare admit it, but the crush you’ve had on wonwoo for ages is partially (totally) what inspired your not-so-genius plan to fake-date your best friend. in reality, what had happened was you’d let mingyu down gently, telling him you would rather just be friends because you were in a complicated situation with someone else. to his credit, he’d graciously withdrawn (not without a sly wink and an offer to call him should your “situation” fall through, of course.)

you finally decide on a dress in between the two extremes: not too flashy, not too plain. wonwoo sticks with the suit.

car lights shine through your front window fifteen minutes later, your cue of wonwoo’s arrival.

you smooth the folds of your dress down and take a deep breath, finally hearing the knock on your door.

wonwoo sucks in a breath when the door opens, revealing you standing there looking the most beautiful he’s ever seen. sure, he helped you get ready for senior prom, his aunt’s wedding, and that one frat party your junior year of college, but none of those times even come close to how amazing his best friend looks in front of him right now.

“hi,” he mumbles shyly, feeling as awkward as a teenager again.

“you look… really nice.” you stumble over your words, eyes fixated on the lapel of his suit. when did he get this hot? and where the hell has he been hiding that suit? it looks expensive...

“ready to go?” he asks, his low voice interrupting your thoughts.

your eyes shoot up from where you’d been staring at the way the suit accentuates his broad chest, embarrassed to have been caught.

“mhm,” you nod, following him out to the car. you really, really want to invite him in, but you don’t know if you’re strong enough to have him inside your house looking like that and not do something you’ll regret.

the drive to the bar is quiet, the car stereo barely audible in the background.

halfway there, wonwoo’s hand finds your lap, resting tentatively on your thigh, almost hovering over the exposed skin. when you settle back into your seat and make no moves to push him away, his grip gets just a little bit tighter.

the bar is loud. that much you know from the second you first step inside.

you glance around, eyes immediately landing on mingyu talking to a group of women, all laughing exaggeratedly at something he said. you smile. maybe tonight will be easy. he won’t bother you again, not when he has so many other, better choices fawning over his every word. and maybe if you’re lucky, wonwoo might finally see what you’ve been trying to tell him all these years.

he leads you to the bar, swiveling a stool for you to sit as he leans against the counter next to you.

“so this is him, huh?” a voice calls from behind you.

you spin around on the barstool as wonwoo turns his head, imperceptibly narrowing his eyes.

none other than mingyu stands with a drink in his hand, grinning devilishly at the two of you.

wonwoo causally slips one arm around your waist, pulling you just barely closer to him. your heart races at the touch, but you keep your face stone still.

“yeah, this is… wonwoo,” you struggle to say.

“her boyfriend,” he adds after you, and you have to fight the urge to shiver in his arms. hearing him say those words feels like a dream, after so long imagining it, all the failed tinder matches you always pretended were him.

there’s a split second where you’re afraid one of the men might do something rash, but almost as quickly as it arrives, the tension dissipates as mingyu beams and sticks out his hand for wonwoo to shake. “nice to meet you, bro. heard a lot about you, you’re a lucky guy.” he looks him up and down casually, letting out a low whistle. “nice suit, by the way.”

your jaw drops, and wonwoo’s ears turn red next to you. he plasters on a smile, reaching over to shake the man’s hand. “funny, i’ve heard a lot about you, too,” he says, a little too calmly. your face flushes, and ooh boy you’re not looking forward to the conversation you’re about to have with him later.

sensing it might be best to leave, mingyu flashes another million dollar smile, nodding at wonwoo. “hope to see you around again, my man.”

“sure,” you squeak out, though he isn't even talking to you.

mingyu walks away, leaving you alone at the bar with your fake date. the building is full of chatter, but the silence between you feels deafening.

“this party’s kinda boring,” he says finally, leaning down to whisper in your ear. “why don’t we go somewhere and talk instead?”

all you can do is nod, unable to form any words as you follow him back outside to his car.

the parking lot outside the bar is quiet as you both sit in silence, waiting for the other to speak.

“so… what did you wanna talk about?” you ask innocently. as if you don’t know exactly what went wrong.

“this wasn’t about mingyu, was it?” his deep voice shatters the silence, and you freeze.

“it wasn’t,” you confirm.

“so what is it, then? you just wanted some arm candy to show off for your coworkers?”

you choke out a ‘no’. hearing him say the words “arm candy” with a straight face is something you never thought you’d live to see. maybe you fainted in wonwoo’s car on the way to the bar at how pretty he looks and this is all a dream, and you’d never even met mingyu tonight.

but he continues, reassuring you this is, in fact, not a dream. “then why’d you lie about mingyu? because he clearly wasn’t as bothered by you turning him down as you said he was.”

“i don’t know…” you manage to whisper.

“i don’t believe that.”

you stare at him, finally reaching a tipping point. “fine. what do you want me to say, that i made up this whole elaborate plan just so we could play pretend and i could live out my fantasy of us being together for one night? is that what you want?”

his eyes widen, clearly not the words he was expecting to come out of your mouth. “you don’t mean that.”

“how would you know?” you retort, starting to get upset. “god, can you just— reject me so i can move on already?”

he blinks a few times, his jaw hanging open in shock. “what?”

“do i really have to spell it out for you, wonwoo? i’ve liked you since we were kids! i thought it was so obvious, but apparently, you just like leading people on!”

“when was i ever leading you on?” he sputters, his face starting to grow red. “why do you think i even agreed to this stupid plan in the first place? you think i’d do this for my friend?”

you open your mouth to fight back, but you stop suddenly, gears turning in your head. “wait. say that again?”

he furrows his eyebrows in annoyance. “say what again?”

“‘you think i’d do this for my friend’,” you repeat back to him. “if i’m not your friend, then… why are you doing this?” you pause, letting the words digest. “what am i to you, wonwoo?”

his mouth opens and closes, searching for words but none come out.

you stay quiet, waiting for him to figure out what he needs to say. you’ve said your piece. now, it's up to him.

“will you go out with me?” he says out of nowhere, breaking the silence.

it’s your turn to be surprised. “what?”

“i… i’ve been trying to figure out how to ask you out for years. that’s why i agreed to do this. because–” his voice cracks slightly, and he clears his throat before continuing, cheeks growing steadily pinker. “because i thought maybe if i did this, you’d see me as… more than a friend.”

he wants to look away, to avoid your piercing gaze, but he can’t draw his eyes away from yours.

your voice is much softer when you finally speak again. “i’ve always seen you as more than a friend,” you say gently.

you clear your throat, sitting up straighter in your seat and turning to face him better. “wonwoo, will you go out with me?”

it takes him a moment to process, but he recovers quickly, breaking into a wide grin. “well, technically i asked you first.”

you roll your eyes and rest a hand on his shoulder, gently pulling him towards you. “will you just kiss me, please?”

and he does, and it’s everything you daydreamed of, everything you waited all these years for, everything your elaborate plan was meant to achieve but almost ended in disaster for. you’re kissing your best friend, and he’s kissing you, and everything is exactly how it should be.

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thank you for reading, i hope you enjoyed! if you liked this, reblog or leave an ask or a comment, it shows me you enjoyed this so i know to write more like this in the future!

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cowgurrrl · 3 months

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Listen I don’t normally love this trope but there is something very much delicious about two characters breaking off a relationship (partners/fwbs/whatever) and one of them finding out they’re pregnant and them trying to figure out how to co parent together

#the opportunity for angst #FOR FAMILY FLUFF #FOR SECOND CHANCE LOVE #writing #june screams on the internet

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roncheg · 11 months

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Happy hanguang-june, i guess

#lan wangji #fanart #my art #mdzs #wangxian #I was desperate to draw smth for the hanguang june #well #that level of angst was unexpected

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atinylittlepain · 10 months

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June - Part Two

joel miller x f!OC

series masterlist

warnings | 18+ dark themes surrounding suicidal ideation and attempt, smut, angst

a/n | hi, folks, welcome back. i'm quite excited and also quite nervous to start sharing more of June with you. This is work touches on very heavy topics, so please take care in reading it, and know that my DMs are always open if you'd like to talk about it. Thank you for reading.

..........................................

Little red flower on your wrist

Maybe the angel fired and missed

Blue and red horses on the run

I think the angel is jumping the gun

"Blue and Red Horses" by Adrianne Lenker

.............................................

A slip. That’s what the doctor calls it. She had a slip, slip, slip.

He had been waiting for her on the porch, same as always. And when the sun turned to syrup and she still wasn’t home, he went inside to get his jacket. Two steps at a time, skidding to a halt in the sliver of light coming from her room.

Head lolled back, the most peaceful he’d ever seen her, except when she’s sleeping. Somewhere between that, and something much deeper. He’ll grow a beard if it keeps her from getting her hands on a razor again. Dripping down her finger tips, onto the thigh of his jeans. So much of it, his hands started shaking. Drip, drip, drip.

They keep her overnight at the clinic. White clothes, white sheets, white bandages, and the blossom of red they hide. She sleeps, mercifully. And he sits, his head propped on his palm, trying to figure out what went wrong.

Had something changed? He doesn’t think so, at least not for the worse. She had been eating, talking, working. They had found a rhythm, hadn’t they?

She sleeps, and he sits. Vigil, guard, whatever it’s called. Only letting one eye slip closed at a time, afraid that if he looks away, she’ll disappear. And when she wakes up in the morning, turning her head toward him, a sheepish smile curling her lips, Joel finds something that feels like anger resting heavy on his chest.

Keep an eye on–

Make sure she doesn’t have access to–

Bring her in if she says anything about–

He nods numbly at the doctor’s orders, his eyes darting over to her. Chin tucked down, picking at the edges of the gauze around her forearm. He has to swallow down a scream because why is everyone around him treating this like the most normal thing in the world? Why is no one else freaking out as much as he is? But he nods and he guides her out of the clinic, his palm hovering between her shoulder blades, unsure what will happen if he closes that gap, makes contact. She’s silent, chastened, like a child leaving the principal’s office. It makes him feel sick.

“Aren’t you going to be late for your shift?”

“Are you serious?”

“I was just asking.”

“Well I’m not. Not going anywhere.”

“You’re upset.” It’s a statement that makes him scoff, frustration rising hot and jittery up his neck, steadying himself with a palm pressed flat against the kitchen counter as he looks at her.

“A little bit. What made you do that?” He has to take a deep breath when she shrugs, knuckles tensing into a fist, open, close, open, close.

“Nothing made me do anything. I was just ready.”

“For what?”

“Just ready, Joel.” Back and forth, back and forth, his jaw slides in a hard grind as they stare at each other, unblinking, a yawning space between them.

“You need to eat. Sit down.” He’s a bit surprised when she listens, but then he sees it. The way her shoulders fold around herself like frail wings, fingers steepled in a light press on the table, her lashes brushing her cheeks with the droop of her gaze, a frown that folds like wet silk. And suddenly, he can swallow his anger, a bitter pill that leaves an urgency in its wake.

He toasts the bread in the pan, a thick slice smeared with butter on both sides. Something solid, affirming. And jam, but not the red kind, no, no, no. Blueberry, she likes blueberries. And they have blueberry. She traded for it two days ago. Before, before, before.

Sweet, sweet, sweet. A prayer in the pass of the knife. Stay, stay, stay.

And he sighs, long and low in his chest, when he sets the plate down in front of her. For you, for you, for you. She picks the piece of toast up, carefully, fingertips only, tilting it this way and that.

“Eat it, please.” He sits across from her at the table, his arms folded in front of him, steady eyes, something in his chest unfurling when she finally takes a bite. It’s slow, methodical, a languid roll to her jaw as she chews, her eyes holding his as she swallows. He watches every bite until the plate is empty.

“I want to lay down.”

“Okay.”

She looks displeased when he pulls a chair into her room, sitting down right next to her bed with his knife and a scrap of wood. She turns her back to him, a long sigh making the covers rise and fall. Silence, save for the light scratching of his work, shavings floating down around his boots, worry holding his throat in a tight fist.

…

“I’m not going to stab myself.” Her crassness is a slap in the face, enough for him to relent and pass her the kitchen knife, letting her get to work on the vegetables for dinner. She slept for most of the day, something the doctor had told him to expect after she lost so much–

“Shit.” His body slips into motion before his mind, palm circling her wrist to draw her finger into the warmth of his mouth to stop the–

“I didn’t mean to.”

“I know you didn’t, June.” He lets go of her wrist, a reluctant release. She curls her hand against her chest, something small and wounded. And then they snap back into the task, the crease of time smoothed out.

…

“Why do you want to leave?” He left out one word in his question. Me, me, me.

“I just do. Same as you.” But he doesn’t, not anymore, a secret he’s been keeping tucked between two of his ribs, an aching truth. He turns his head on his pillow, studying the slope of her nose, the stillness of her eyes, looking straight up at the ceiling of his bedroom, her hands clasped together over her stomach. The moon casts slants of light across the bed, across her face, her scar turned silver along her temple. For a moment, there is no sound except the dull croak of crickets, one last symphony before the end of the season.

“I won’t if you won’t.” She tips her chin toward him, owlish and unblinking in her wide stare.

“Okay.”

…

“People say she’s crazy, you know.”

“There’s plenty of reasons to be crazy in this world, kid.” This is new. Good, clear hope fluttering in his chest, though he tries to school any excitement out of his expression should Ellie detect it and flee. Neutral ground, the dining hall for lunch.

“Yeah, but people say she’s crazy crazy.”

“Ellie.”

“Sorry. I guess I’m happy for you that you found someone.”

“It ain’t like that.”

“Sure, Joel.”

“How’s Dina?”

“We’re not doing that.”

“Not doing what?”

“I’m not gonna tell you how my girlfriend is doing.”

“Well I just told you about mine, didn’t I?”

“So she is?”

“Is what?”

“Your girlfriend, you just said–”

“Wait– no– I didn’t– that just came out.”

“Sure, Joel.”

…

They go to movie night. Sitting in the back of the hall. Some film from the nineties, all the actors with British accents, all the women in the crowd letting out a sea of sighs. He studies her face, awash in pale blue light, eyes steady and tracking. An imperceptible drag of his chair, an inch closer, and a leap. She doesn’t flinch, doesn’t recoil, when he drapes his arm over the back of her chair, his fingers barely brushing the outside of her bicep. Up, down, up, down. Her eyes don’t leave the screen.

“Do you like this movie?” Only the faintest warble of his voice breaks his whisper, and she finally glances at him.

“Yes. You should be watching.” I am, I am, I am. Watching so closely.

He fills his lungs with cool, clean air when they step out of the darkness of the town hall and into the darkness of the night. His arm feels boneless, electric, from the way he had kept it framing her shoulders. And then he sees the little drops of light running down her cheeks and his heart curls up into a tight clench.

“Why are you crying?” He’d like to tuck those words back in his throat, instant regret at the way she swipes away any evidence, sniffing hard to stop herself back up.

“That movie always makes me cry.” He realizes all at once that he hasn’t seen her cry since that night in that field. Her hand in his, relief stretching like a taut muscle when her fingers curl around his, staying like that the whole walk home.

“Are you hungry?” “Not really.” He slices two plums, purple soaked flesh that dribbles and bleeds down their wrists when they sink teeth into tartness, hip pressed against hip where they’re leaning against the kitchen counter. It’s impulse, obscene instinct, coaxing her hand to his mouth so he can lap at the juice that drips between her fingers. Sweet, sweet, sweet.

This time, she takes. Turning toward him, closing that space with a tentative lean, her head jerking away once before she finally presses her lips against his, drinking the sigh that washes through his chest. Her fingers twine behind his neck, a perfect weight pulling him down into her. And something snarls, a touch of impatience in the way her tongue slides against his, teeth a sharp graze. His hands curl around her hips, a careful press that she preens into, her chest brushing against his. He has to slow her down when her movements flare frantic, something he knows will eventually spook her right out of his hands. Forehead to forehead, his nose running the arc of hers as she catches her breath, tiny pants that wash over his mouth.

“Will you tell me what you want, June?”

“This.” This, this, this. He takes her hand, a quiet tug upstairs and into his room and then his fingers start to turn desperate. And hers do too. Undoing buttons, swiping through zippers, pulling and pushing, seeking new skin. A patient unraveling, slowness he struggles to abide by. A careful allowance of wandering, palms sweeping over the bare softness of her stomach, up along the crook of her collarbone, dipping down to trace the swell of her breasts, the quick catch of her breath when the pad of his thumb slips over a peaked nipple. She steps out of his hold, his heart sinking, buoyed when she lays out on the bed, slinking down onto her elbows, warm in the light of the lamp he had half a mind to flick on.

Thin, frayed cotton, his fingers catching on the fabric, hooking, sweeping down the line of her legs and then she’s bare before him, something better than perfect. A soft hinge of her hips, an invitation for him to rest there. And he does, palm skating from the crook of her knee up and up, jumping from the swell of her hip to circle her wrist. He wants it to hurt, just a little, the kiss he presses into the gauze wrapped around her forearm, a cry breaking in her throat when he holds his mouth there, a hot stamp, a silent plea. But he wants to soothe as soon as it stings, so, so soft, lips smoothing over her pulse, the fine tendons jumping beneath his mouth.

“Please.” Oh, he likes the way that sounds. Warmth rising up and up, lips curling up and up, a curved press to her stomach, dragging lower, the hook of her hip bone, the soft crease of her thigh. And he breathes her in, coaxing the sloping backs of her thighs over his shoulders, thumbs rubbing circles into the tensing muscles, slow, slow, slow. Swollen, the glistening middle of a plum, dark and slick and dripping down his chin. He goes greedy with it, insistent in the way he drinks from her, lapping up everything she has to give, tongue a hot, demanding press that makes her hips jolt. Easy, June. Easy, easy, easy. His eyes drag up the heaving plains of her stomach, the gentle shake of her breasts, neck long and taut, lips parted, a portrait of the pleasure he’s pulling from her.

“Joel.” Joel, Joel, Joel. Like a wave crashing in his ears, her whole body furling up around him before slackening, smooth and soft and sighing, her hands in his hair tugging up, up, up. He hopes that she tastes herself on his lips, and he thinks she does when she groans, low and mewling into his mouth. A fire flushes up his neck, his cheeks, when she takes him into her hand, soft, soft, soft, her eyes not leaving his. And he’s already so close to too much, the way her wrist flicks between their hips. No one’s ever been so gentle with him. It makes him ache.

“Please.” It’s his turn to say it, and her turn to permit, her legs slipping open even more, long lines of muscle and ligaments, a silent affirmation of want. Warm and soft and wanting, pooling thick in his spine, seeping, bursting, until he’s full of the feeling, his hips pressed so close, so snug to hers. She seizes around him, a long exhale that breaks high in her throat, and he stills, pressing his face right over her heart, willing ease into the pumping of blood, the coil of muscle. She hooks the swell of her calf around his hip, a soft press, a silent command that makes him huff out a quiet laugh against her sternum, the sound fizzling out in his throat when he meets her watery gaze. Wide eyes, blown out dark, dark, dark, swallowing him up.

His arm is a frame, a protection, curled around the top of her head, keeping her steady and safe as each press of his hips sends them shucking further up the bed. And she holds on, little half-moons of her fingerprints pressing into his shoulders, the arch of her heel slipping along his low back.

“June.” Over and over again. June, June, June. A cry, a prayer, a demand, a steadying sound that he breathes out against her lips. And he’s not being patient anymore, desperation driving his hips to a heavy rhythm, little sighs slipping from her throat with each beat.

Need, need, need. He needs to feel her like this, his fingers a plea, a mess against that place that makes her preen around him. Her back curves, tight and hot, the taut peaks of her breasts pressing, dragging against his chest. She unfurls for him, his name a high, clipped sound in her mouth. And he shouldn’t, shouldn’t, shouldn’t, pain in his sigh when he pulls away from her warmth, smearing himself against her stomach, pale, pearling, pleasure.

It’s broken and ugly, like she can’t take a deep enough breath, her chest catching, shivering with the sob. All he can think to do is lay the weight of himself over her, solid, insistent, sweat and spend cooling sticky against skin. His palms find her ribs, steady pressure to smooth the shake.

“It’s okay. I’ve got you.” She needs this. He knows she needs this. Something finally tearing open inside her, spilling out, his hands waiting and willing to hold it.

“You just cry, June. It’s okay.” He whispers it to her, words stamped into her skin, just beneath her collarbone. She cries and cries and cries. And he holds her through it, until her breaths start to turn smoother, slight hiccups of salt. Her eyes are heavy, swollen, slipping down her cheeks. He presses his lips over one, the other, her lashes flickering, quick winged reaction.

Clean, warm water, long sweeping palms. Soap that smells like honey passed between open hands. They’re close and quiet in the steam of the shower.

“Does it hurt?”

“A little. I don’t like the way the stitches feel.” He wraps fresh gauze around her forearm, hiding the jagged, dark lines, smoothing his thumb down the trail of her destruction.

Socked feet that slip against his ankles. Her palm an anchor against his stomach, her cheek pressed warm and soft over his heart, clockwork setting back into time.

“Goodnight, Joel.” “Goodnight, June.”

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #tlou #tlou fanfiction #joel miller angst #the last of us #joel miller fluff #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller series #joel miller fic #joel miller au #joel miller x oc #joel miller story #june

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fclk-lores · 4 months

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my man my man my man ⋆ ˚｡⋆ </3 !!

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slvttysstuff · 4 months

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REBOUND chapter 4

Chapter 1

https://www.tumblr.com/slvttysstuff/738042134255583232/rebound?source=share

Chapter 2

https://www.tumblr.com/slvttysstuff/738478643741884416/rebound?source=share

Chapter 3

https://www.tumblr.com/slvttysstuff/738741624067244032/rebound-chapter-3?source=share

Warning: mention of blood, jealous jay, grammatical errors

Summary: months after shelly and jay broke up he found himself in a relationship with you while he hasn't moved on yet from his past lover (shelly)

¤.•⨳•.*☆✬✬☆*.•⨳•.¤⊹

The tournament had already started once again, and here you are, along with Dom getting the medical team aid the two of you after having a incident while racing with those douchebags, you're maybe confused on how we got into an accident, to make the story short, those scorpion screw played us dirty

They took advantage of Dom and I while we're racing inside that tunnel, dom's tire got punctured resulting of him and I falling together

" Hey! To your left! " Vinny and I yelled, " huh? " Dom muttered but was too late when the guy in black helmet and gray hoodie puncture Dom's tires resulting of Dom falling and landing forward, I was at Dom's back so I don't have the time to react or to dodge him making my bike bump into his and just like what happens to him, it happens to me also, landing on my poor face

" Y/n! Dom! " I heard my team yelled worried, I slowly sat up and looked at them blood dripping in my head and cheeks " don't worry a-about us! Just focus and go!! " I yelled

" hey y/n I'm sorry it's my fault that you also got into this too " Dom said while the medics were putting some ointment on our wounds, I chuckled at him " don't be an idiot, it's fine it's part of the race " I chuckled

I hissed when I felt the ointment on my wound " luckily it was just a wounds and a few scratches nothing too worst " the medic explained to us " but I still recommend the two of you to take a rest " and after that they left, we were there alone sitting

" do you think they'll beat them up? " Dom asked looking at me, I looked back at him, his face caught me off guard I tried to suppress my laugh, his looks right now is very funny the bandage all over his face he looks like a mummy " of-ofcourse " I answered bitting the inside of my cheeks looking away

" what happen exactly between you and jay? " Dom continue, I knew it, not long they'll start asking me what really happened between me and jay and all I have to do is to answer it " I think you all notice it already " i said looking at down at my legs " notice what? "

" the reason why we broke up, I thought it was already obvious" I said " I think I know,but I'm not sure if I'm right..." he was hesitant " was it because of shelly? " Dom asked, I let out a small smile, he got it right

" yeah " I shortly answered before sighing, hearing her name makes me heart clench " jay hasn't moved on from her yet " I explained " he's still attached to her " I continued, tears were starting to fall from my eyes as I looked up not wanting it to fall

Dom looked at me with pitiful eyes, " I'm sorry you have to go through with that, I know jay's reason wasn't valid, he just got attached to shelly too much, but trust me y/n jay loves you.." Dom said, I looked at him and was about to say something when

" DOM!! ARE YOU ALRIGHT?!!? " yuna yelled as she pushed the crowds and went to us, Dom's face quickly change as he acted as if he was hurt

" y-yuna! It hurts so bad! " He complains like a child, I looked at him with ' wtf bro' look as I saw how he quickly changes when it comes to yuna, of course that's because he likes her, I looked away not wanting witness their cheesiness especially Dom

" Team Scorpion at the lead and it doesn't look like team hummingbird can catch up! " The spectator announced as Dom and Yun grew worried but I have my faith in them especially minu, he was the one who planned all of this, he was the brain of our team

" There are no rules this time and we have to race with those asshats, which means it will be more dangerous " minu explained, he looks at me " y/n I think it's the best if you won't participate this round first, it's too dangerous" minu said but I shook my head

" no, I'll participate, I don't care if it's dangerous" I disagree on what minu said, the others gave me worried looks but I ignored them

" y/n I think you should listen to min- "

" jay i meant what I said, This is my decision, if something happens to me it's my fault" I glared at him making him shut up, he just sighed

" a-anyways, I was thinking..." Minu started

" let's say jay sprints early alright? If you do that no doubt they'll come after you first and take you out so..." Minu paused as he thinking some strategy " I want you two to shake things up a little at the beginning" minu said looking at Dom and Vinny

" in the meantime me, jay and y/n we'll stay at the back and pace ourselves, and at the last course I'll start sprinting and break their tempo then jay that's when you sprint "minu said " I'll stay at the back of Dom and try to block them- "

" It's too dangerous " jay once again interrupt my words, I closed my eyes inhaling the air " I don't care! If it's dangerous or not! If it's for winning the team then I have to do it " I argue with jay once again he looks at me " we can win this without you putting your life in danger, you knew they would play dirty on us" jay said keeping his calmness on my stubbornness " I know what I am doing! Stop treating me like a god damn elementary kid! " I yelled " I'm not, I'm just tell- "

" jay enough, I think Y/n's right, Dom needs someone who'll block the enemy, and even if it went wrong, we can still continue our plan " minu said

" why are you agreeing in putting her in the red- "

" why don't you let y/n decide for her self? She's not a puppet that you can control anytime you want." Vinny interrupted looking coldly at jay it was clear that he was irritated to the black haired boy " guys I think it's not the right time to argue, let's just hope nothing will happen and just focus on the race okay? " Dom said trying to cool down the argument that was already boiling up

" Hey y/n " someone called making me look who it was, " y-yeah Yuna? " I answered " we were calling you 5 times, are you alright? " Yuna asked completely worried, I nodded at her " I'm fine Yuna thank you " I said giving her a small smile

" 800m To the finish line! We're almost at the end of the race and team hummingbird is speeding up like crazy!! " The spectator announced

I stood up and went to the crowds to watch, minu was doing his strategy,

" Mini Yoon from hummingbird just went solo from his group! " The spectator said, minu went solo as he caught up with those fuckers, taking the lead once again, after sometime jay started sprinting leading the race all the way, cheers and applause can be heard after jay takes the lead

" AND FOR THIS ROUND! TEAM HUMMINGBIRD WON!! With 4.76 seconds lead!! " the spectator announced, a faint smile formed from my lips after hearing the announce of winners, I went back to the place where Dom and yuna are and sat back " I told you they will win " I said to Dom grinning at him, we went to were June is,

his arms were still injured thats why he didn't get to participate the match, then there we saw the three of them walking on our way " good work guys " June congratulate " I shit my pants " Dom said while doing a thumbs up, I laugh at his comment " You did a good wor-

" how's your wounds? What did the medics say about it?" Jay suddenly went to me and start checking on my wounds that were already bandage

" i-its fine, a few scratches they say, but I'm fine " I stutter looking away as he was looking down at me, worried was evident on his looks, I noticed the others giving us the looks making me uncomfortable, I moved away " so! Minu! Your strategy really worked! " I said trying to light up the mood " yeah it does " minu said as he scratch the back of his neck

" remember what you said to us before? " June asked as minu looked at him, confused

" when you told us you weren't Gonna practice with us anymore, I mean when you said you're just a third wheel to our team " June explained, minu looked at us as if he already remembered what June said

" oh that was.." minu started

"minu you are, our teams brain " June finally said as I nodded in agreement to what June said

" huh? What? Burain? "Dom who's confused to what had June said asked as he also asked yuna

" oh..thats ridiculous" minu said scratching his head while Mia was cheering for him

" Y/n what burain? It sounds dope " don mumbled to me and yuna, yuna poke Dom's forehead " he's talking about this " yuna answered but Dom was still confused, his reaction makes me laugh

" listen guys " minu called making our attention turn to him " I got something to tell you all " minu started " I've been meaning to tell you this guys" minu continued as he slowly took Mia's hands holding it " we're dating " minu announced but none of us reacted cause it was completely obvious except for Dom and june who's utterly in shocked, even though they haven't told us yet, they were already obvious

i noticed the two of them blushing " we already know! " I chuckled I went in front of them holding their hands that was already holding into each other " I gave you my blessings " I muttered like an old lady making the others laugh except for jay and Vinny who's looking at me

" the fuck you doing idiot you look like am old lady giving blessings to married couple " Vinny called as I looked at him glaring, I let go of their hands " congrats! " I said smiling at them

" how did you guys find out we haven't even told you yet " minu said " it was completely obvious" yuna explain as minu and Mia laughed

" so do you guys wanna hang out at my house? I'll cook or we can order something! " I suggested, Dom immediately agreed " I'm on it! Let's take a house tour at her house " Dom suggested as the others agree as well

as we started to head out and Dom's bodyguards were waiting for us, Dom told them that we will head to my house

" hey Dom are you alright? You fall really hard earlier" June said as he sat on the car " I'm fine it's just a few scratches " Dom said assuring us the he was alright..

#jay jo x reader #shelly scott #vinny hong #windbreaker #windbreaker angst #hummingbird #dom kang #jo jay #angst #minu yoon #Yuna yoon #June #Dom Kang #Vinny x reader #Racing #Mia

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byierficrecs · 7 months

Text

❝ thought i knew you for a minute ❞ author: @moonlightmiwi

link: archiveofourown.org/works/43694800

personal blog || submit a story || support me on ko-fi 🍂

#note: this was submitted in june. apologies for the delay #📚#byler #byler fanfiction #byler fic rec #will byers #mike wheeler #stranger things #r // teen #r // one-shot #r // finished #r // 5-10k #t // post-canon #t // jealous mike #t // fight #t // hurt/comfort #t // fluff #t // angst #t // happy ending

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cricket-reader · 11 months

Text

Broken Promises

Summary: the asset had promised you that he would save you, that he’d come back for you if he ever managed to escape. He didn’t come back for you. Something that both of you needed to work through if you ever wanted to heal.

Warnings: language, Bucky’s negative thoughts and self-hatred, miscommunication, captivity, Hydra, fluff

Word Count: 1672

Prompt: "Say something." | Rescue | Broken Promise | Weak

A/N: Day 13 of June of Doom by @juneofdoom

I’ll come back for you.

I’ll never leave you here alone.

I promise.

You should have known better than to listen to promises from a person that couldn’t even remember his own name. Any reprieve from this treacherous life was welcomed, though. So you dared to hope. You stupidly dared to dream that there was a life outside of those bleak, dreary walls.

You heard about the Asset’s escape. A new hope lit a flame in your chest. He was going to come back for you. He was going to save you from the treacherous claws of Hydra.

As the months went by, however, your flame began to flicker out. He wasn’t coming. He forgot about you. He didn’t care enough to save you, maybe. Whatever the reason, you were stuck there. No one was coming to save you.

You couldn’t really find it in yourself to blame him. In your mind, you weren’t worth saving. He probably didn’t want to come back anyway. You sure as hell wouldn’t want to come back if you got out. You’d like to at least think that you would have come back for the Asset were you in his place, though.

But this isn’t what would you do. This is what would he do. Because you were still trapped and the Asset was free. In what would he do, saving you wasn’t a part of his plan. Clearly.

Briefly, you wondered if he could remember his name now that he was out of the metaphorical frying pan. You hoped he was. You hoped he was recovering. Because he deserved it.

You were not expecting to be saved. So when a dark skinned man burst into your room and led you to safety, you were overwhelmed. Someone had actually saved you. They risked their life for you.

But it wasn’t who you wanted it to be.

It was stupid. You didn’t have time to be picky. Whoever saved you, saved you and that should be enough. However, you couldn’t help but feel gutted. You thought you gave up on the hope that the Winter Soldier would come back for you a long time ago. The empty feeling inside of you said otherwise.

When they began therapy, you realised how weak you were. You couldn’t eat large portions without expelling it afterwards. You could barely walk without assistance, too busy trembling from malnutrition to be useful. You hated every step of recovery. Maybe you hated it so much because you thought that it would be you and the Soldier going through the aftermath together. In the cells when you daydreamed of a life beyond the walls you were kept in, you had thought he’d be there to support you every step of the way. But you were alone.

Sam wanted to beat Bucky up. It wasn’t an odd feeling, but this urge was stronger than usual. He understood when Bucky told him that he couldn’t go back to the place he was held in captivity. He understood that.

He couldn’t bring himself to understand why the hell he was being so chicken-shit about going and seeing you.

It was clear that he wanted to. Pacing in the hallway outside of your room, standing in the doorway for hours upon end, sitting right outside your door and never leaving. Bucky was just too scared to actually make it past the door to your room. Sam had unsuccessfully tried to “accidentally” push him in the room when he would stand in front of it multiple times.

It was really starting to get on his nerves.

One day, Bucky was napping in one of the uncomfortable waiting room chairs outside your room as he often did. Sam, absolutely fed up with his friend being a love-sick fool, too chicken shit to do anything, decided to push him into the room. It didn’t work.

Needless to say, even with his incredible strength, Sam was no match for a super soldier.

One of the nurses noticed what Sam was trying to do and decided to help. They got him into a wheelchair and wheeled him into the room. Sam dragged the exhausted super soldier out of the wheelchair and into one of the seats near your bed.

Sam thanked the nurse as they wheeled the wheelchair away. The nurse just shrugged, saying that they were tired of it too.

Sam followed the nurse out of the room, leaving the two of you alone.

When you woke up, you weren’t expecting to see anyone in your room. Much less the very man that had broken his promise and left you to pick up the shattered pieces.

You wanted to be happy. You really did. But how could you when he had torn away every last shred of hope you held onto? How could you ever forgive him for lying, for breaking his promises?

He looked good. Healthy even. You were happy for him. You really were. But you couldn’t help that ugly feeling of envy that crawled its way up your throat. It wasn’t fair. Not by a long shot. You knew it, hell he probably knew it too.

You sat in silence for what felt like hours before the man beside you finally came to. He jumped up, on edge because he didn’t recognise his surroundings. His entire body froze, seeing that you were in front of him. You looked at him before looking back out the window.

Bucky mentally cursed. You had seen him. He couldn’t just walk away and pretend it never happened… or could he? No! No, he couldn’t. That wouldn’t be fair to you. “Hey,” he said, scuffing the bottom of his shoe against the pristine tile.

“Uh… I meant to come see you sooner… I really did.”

He wanted to hear your voice again. He missed you so much. All those achingly long nights where his nightmares formed the most horrendous images of you being tortured without him there to protect you. It drove him mad. He tried to find you on his own, but he failed. He had to ask for help and he would do it again in a heartbeat if it meant you were safe; he despised asking for help, but he’d do anything for you.

“I’ve been here since you were admitted… I just… I couldn’t bring myself to… to come in and see you. Someone must’ve… they must’ve gotten me in here somehow…”

He was just saying nonsense at that point. Anything to fill the void. You hadn’t looked back at him. Your head still turned to face the window. He couldn’t blame you. Not really. He would hate him too if he were you. Hell, he does hate himself.

“I know I’m probably the last person you wanna see.” He had tears begging to be released in his eyes. He needed to hear you. He didn’t care if all you did was cuss him out or yell at him. Anything to hear your voice.

“Say something. Please…”

Your heart cracked, hearing his broken voice. Tears had already began to stream down your face. “You promised…”

His heart skipped a beat. He didn’t actually think you would say anything. He was convinced that you’d just give him the silent treatment. That, of course, would have been fine with him. He deserved it after all he had put you through.

“Why didn’t you come back for me?” You had to know. Although you wanted nothing to do with him and simultaneously wanted to wrap him in your arms and never let go, you just had to know one thing. The question you had wondered ever since that flame inside of you was snuffed out.

Bucky winced. In all honesty, he should have known that question was coming. It didn’t make it hurt any less, though. “I… it sounds so stupid, but I tried. I really did, doll. I spent months trying to remember where they kept you, hacking into all kinds of files—so much so that I probably would have been arrested if I didn’t cover my tracks. But I didn’t care because I needed to find you. You’ve gotta understand…”

He took a breath. “As soon as I remembered you, I did everything I could to find you. After years of searching I finally asked for help… that just goes to show how fucking desperate I was, god.” He ran his hands through his hair, starting to pace back and forth.

“I—I couldn’t bring myself to go get you. I had Sam do it with Torres because I was scared. I was a fucking coward! And you deserve so much more. I didn’t… I just didn’t feel worthy enough to save you.”

At this point, you turned to see his tear-streaked face. He continued pacing, not even noticing that you were finally looking at him.

“You had been waiting so long and I.. I failed you. I had taken too long to find you, and I was terrified that you’d hate me as much as I hate myself. But what really terrified me was the thought that you hadn’t made it. That I would get there and you’d be a bloody mess, cold and lifeless on the ground.

“My nightmares for the longest time had been filled with you dying because of me. I couldn’t bear to see it in real life.”

“Winter…” you croaked, heartbroken at his revelation. His head whipped over to your body, lying on the hospital bed and covered with yellowing bruises.

“It’s Bucky,” he sheepishly corrected.

A smile was brought to your face, and Bucky found himself thinking that he’d do anything to see that smile more often. “You remembered?”

He nodded his head, tears still dripping down his cheeks. “I did, I remember a lot now. While it’s not always a good thing, I thank every god above that I remembered you before it was too late.”

You felt heat rising to your face. “You’re still such a simp.”

“Yeah,” he chuckled, “but I’m your simp.”

Taglist: @harleycao

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marvelwitchergilmore · 8 months

Text

Bloody Pardon 3

Summary: Anthony Lockwood x Fe!Reader -> You and Lockwood spend the night in bed together and the next day acting like the married couple the government, June and Aunt Vi think you are. But what happens when it starts to feel all too real?

Disclaimer: Snow, fluff, angst, one bed, nothing sexual, falling in love.

“So.”

Both yourself and Lockwood had gotten ready for bed and were finally in, laying beside one another. Your arms were out of the covers and across your chest, Lockwood mirroring your own.

The lamps remained on, meanwhile, the rest of the house was cast into darkness.

Despite feeling sleepy all of five minutes ago, you were now wide away. Your mind was both running wild with thoughts of embarrassment and terror whilst also having nothing in your mind at all.

“How long do you think it’ll be before June figures us out?”

“I’d give it a couple hours. She…she doesn’t seem to like me very much.”

“So I’ve noticed. Though, when have you ever cared what people think of you?”

“When, if she discovers the truth, it could kill your aunt.”

“It won’t kill Aunt Vi.”

“Then go and tell her the truth.”

Lockwood lay there before looking at you, swallowing hard.

“Maybe you’re right.”

“Thank you.”

You turned and looked back at the ceiling, thinking for a moment before turning onto your side to face him.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Only if I can ask you.”

You thought for a moment before nodding.

“How much of the conversation did you hear? Between your Aunt and I, I mean.”

Lockwood was already looking at you but he looked up to the ceiling again before turning onto his side as he explained.

“Most of it.”

“How much is most of it?”

“You called me a reckless bastard.” Lockwood told you. “And a death-wished idiot and a-”

“Okay, I get the picture,” you held your hands out to Lockwood. “What did you want to ask me?”

“Okay, well…”

It took him a moment to gather himself before he asked the question, as if trying to find the best way to phrase it.

“Earlier, when we came in here, you told me you can barely lie to yourself. What did you mean by that?”

“Well…”

You were trying your best to think of an excuse. Something that would sound at least remotely like the truth. But you couldn’t. Your brain was starting to daze over things.

Slowly, you turned onto your back, trying to avoid his gaze.

“I…”

From behind the door, someone walked down the hall and towards the bathroom. And you could have kissed them because it broke whatever moment had been building between you and Lockwood in the silence of the bedroom.

“We should go to sleep.” you told him. “Night.”

Lockwood tried to stop you but you had already turned out the lamp on your side of the bed so, half sat up in bed, he turned off his own and faced his back against yours.

As the morning came around, shockingly, you found Lockwood was still fast asleep beside you. He also had come so close to you in the night, that his hand had held onto yours, despite him laying on his front.

It took you a few moments to prepare yourself to move and not wake him but once you left the warmth of his hand and his bed, you wrapped yourself up in a dressing gown and pushed your warm joggers back down your legs since they’d ridden up in the night.

Quietly, you removed yourself from the bedroom before heading downstairs.

It was still dark out, despite it being early morning. Everyone, to your concern, was still in bed. That was why it came as such a shock when you opened up the kitchen door and found June with a cup of tea, sitting in the darkness, as if waiting for you like a Bond villain.

You tried to force your quick scream back down your throat by covering your mouth with your hand but she had already seen you coming a mile off.

“Good morning.” June said.

“G-Good morning, June. I…” you swallowed. “I didn’t think anyone was awake yet.”

“They’re not. Just me.”

“Okay then.”

For a moment, you thought about running back upstairs to Lockwood but then you remembered the tea and trying not to be terrified of June.

“I, uh, would you like another cup of tea?”

“Sure.”

You’d never been so nervous to be in your own home.

“Are you feeling alright since yesterday?”

You looked back and nodded, remembering what Lockwood had said to you. “Oh, yes. I’m feeling better, thank you.”

“There was a message left for you on the machine, from last night.”

“Really?”

“Yes, from one Miss Kirk.”

You stopped pouring the water.

“Oh. Yes, she’s-”

You were going to say a client, but June beat you to it.

“She’s a divorce solicitor. Apparently your case is very, how did she put it? Unusual.”

You looked up to the shelves in front of you.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

“Are you really going to divorce him without telling him how you really feel?”

Quickly, you turned around and faced her. And there she sat, one hand on the table, her legs crossed, looking directly at you with a slightly smug, knowing smile.

“What do-”

“Let me tell you something, missy. You don’t get to my age without noticing a couple things about people. One being, knowing a woman in love. It comes in handy when she’s trying to take your husband from you but in your case, it comes in handy when figuring out if Vi has a good woman coming into her family.”

“Why is that important to you?”

“Because Vi is the closest thing I’ll ever have to a sister. And, if you must know, I think you’re a good woman. Anthony needs you in his life. Not only are you brutally honest with him when need be, but you also make him happy.” June explained. “I was there when he lost his family. I was also there when he lost his smile. And in the last twenty four hours, I’ve seen it come back tenfold.”

“It’s complicated.”

“You like him and he likes you, and from what I’ve heard, nobody in this house has ever done anything the normal way around. So, you skipped the proposal part of the relationship? So what? You love him and he loves you. Why get divorced? You’ll only be married again within a couple years.”

With a slight sigh, you popped the kettle on again to boil. “I’ll tell you how complicated it is.”

The next two hours were spent drinking tea and explaining everything to June from the case that brought it all around to the papers to finding out you were, in fact, a married couple.

“I just have one question,” June told you when you finished your tale. “Why let him divorce you when you love each other?”

“June,” you sighed.

“No. You love him and he loves you. Maybe you didn’t have the most conventional beginning, but despite all of it, you still love him. You should tell him.”

“June, I-”

“Tell him.”

Just then, the door to the kitchen opened and Violet entered, still tying her dressing gown around her.

“Good morning my dears.”

By her actions, Violet was none the wiser on the reality of the situation.

Half an hour later, Lockwood rose from bed, freshly washed and dressed. As he entered the kitchen, he greeted everyone with a smile, kissing your head as he passed to which you lent into him for a moment, and popped the kettle on.

“Any plans today, Ladies?”

Violet was planning to show June around London since it was her first proper visit in years and, after a small discussion, Lockwood pulled himself and you into joining them and showing them the best spots in town.

And, the day passed rather quickly.

You both showed Violet and June around places in London. You all grabbed tea together and, during the walk back to the park, a musician was playing in the square.

There weren't many people, but those that were there had decided to sit and enjoy the moment of the song.

There were no lyrics, but they weren’t needed.

June and Violet took a moment to sit and listen as the musician blended songs together before continuing with Moon River. Meanwhile, Lockwood stepped out in front of you and held his hand out.

“Dance with me?”

“Really?”

Anthony smiled. “Really.”

You looked at June and Violet, a little shocked and unsure on what to do but nodded at your husband when you found the two women smiling - June holding up two thumbs, as well.

For the next couple of minutes, you slow-danced with Lockwood in the square to Moon River all the while the air got a little colder and snow began to fall onto the ground. You felt yourself relax into his arms and your head dropped onto his shoulder whilst his own rested against yours.

And, for a moment, you closed your eyes and let yourself imagine it was real. That the marriage, and the dancing and the moment - that it was all real. None of it was for show or fake, despite what lay underneath was real.

For a moment, you let yourself believe it was true love.

And so did Lockwood.

For that short moment, he let himself dream that the papers hadn’t been a mistake. That you had known all along. That you were both dancing at your actual wedding and you were dressed in white in a veil that probably would have taken hours to pick out due to the fact it would take more time to actually get you into a bridal store.

Lockwood knew you. You liked certain things and you were never afraid of anything.

Except for bridal stores.

You never fully told him the story, too embarrassed to admit it. But, he did know it included an old family friend, a five year plan and a bridal sale.

You never said anything more than that.

He imagined what it would be like, to see you walk down the aisle, to have all your family and his family to see you both come together.

But his mind couldn’t dream any further because, as the song changed, you moved yourself from him.

“We should probably go, before we all freeze.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.”

tags:

wordsarelife

pibsandstubs

anathemaloren

locknco

cassiopeiia24

i-am-not-a-raccoon-anymore

(Hopefully the tags work - fingers crossed)

#anthony lockwood #anthony lockwood x fe!reader #lockwood and co #renuew lockwood and co #lucy carlyle #family #aunt violet #june #one bed trope #marriage of convenience #love #fluff #angst #slow dancing #pining #moon river

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