#first request and it’s so on brand for me it hit my writer’s block with a mallet and i churned this out in literally 10 minutes

[bowieandqueen11]

Dylan Lenivy With A Protective S/O Would Include...

Request: Dylan from the quarry with an s/o who’s like really strong. Like wrestle bears strong (or in the quarry case wrestle werewolves strong) and is very protective. Like i mean picking Dylan up and running or taking hits for him.

I genuinely love Dylan so much time to work through my writer's block for him bby!! :)

Warning: Strong language, mentions of blood/ injury, mentions of guns and werewolf attacks!

(I do not own the Quarry or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @moafleco.)

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°

Dylan Lenivy: darling boy, absolute light of my life!! I full on expected to come into this game and have Max be my favourite because I loved Skyler Gisondo in Booksmart and Night at the Museum 3 but Dylan really side swept my ass here and stole my heart I've got to be honest.

You can bet your ass during the whole Werewolf Attack night at Hackett's Quarry, Dylan will use whatever battery is left on his phone sending you cheesy texts just to check in and make sure you're okay. Be ready for your phone to ding about a thousand times a minute, until Kaitlyn finally cracks and shoves it, still vibrating, into one of the cubbies in the nurse's office.

'Hey sweet... baby-heart! Wait that sounds weird let me start again. Hellooo there sweetheart!❤️🥰 just wanted to make sure ❓that you’re still alive! 💘😖 and not ripped apart! 🤞❌ anyway love you please don’t get eaten by a swarm of bears!! 🐻😘'

Ryan had the joy of reading that one over his shoulder in the radio shack, and the groan he emitted was so loud they both ended up having to pitch over each other and duck under the table because it drew Caleb back up onto the roof.

The poor guy keeps peering out between the slats of the radio shack window like a scared meerkat popping up from behind towering rocks, thinking he can see you float past in a mist of lucent white, weaving through the treeline. He keeps pacing back and forth, back and forth sweating buckets because he's so terrified, and so ashamed that he's cowering in here while you may be in danger out there. Even Ryan's awkward offer to let Dylan borrow his earphones for a while: to sit with his knees drawn up to his chest in the corner and just breathe for a minute while Ryan kept watch, was met with an uncharacteristic sharp intake of breath and manic shake of the head.

So when you come bursting through the rickety door: drenched from head to toe in Nick's metallic reeking blood and propping Chris Hackett's shotgun in your arms, neither of the two men know what to do. But when a crash of lightning makes the full moon glowing behind your head shudder, making the pulsating umbra shrouding your head seem all the more monstrous, Dylan suddenly does.

The man starts screaming in a key that only dogs had a chance of hearing.

When he finally realises that it's you and not - you know - the 'Hag of Hackett's Quarry', and he's spent enough time bent over with his hands resting on his knees trying to catch his breath, the nervous butterflies in the pit of his stomach suddenly turn into somersaults. You came back for him. You came to save him. You care for him that much: love him that much, that you were willing to risk your own life just to try and save his.

Even though he's known you since you were seven years old: even though the two of you had met all those years ago during your first week at this very same camp, catching each other's eyes and waving as he bundled up to Chris' office with a brand new tape player he had restored in his arms, and you helped one of the younger girls pull her luggage out from the back of her parent's van, the true extent of how much he could fucking love someone hits him like air freshener to the face.

Even though the two of you used to sneak out of your bunks and meet up at midnight in the Shady Glade, bumping down beside each other on the dewy grass, constantly craving each other’s company. You made him blush one night, when you suddenly grabbed his hand and intertwined his growing fingers over your smaller ones, pointing up at the moon, and the glowing stars, not realising the little side eye, euphoric look he would give you. 

Even though his heart had flipped over there and then: greedily gorging and festering in his chest, even though he had spent years stifling the feeling until he learnt that he was lucky enough to have it returned, it still shocked him to realise you didn't see him as a waste of space. As a spent joke.

And then his hand gets bit, and everything changes. It must have looked at least a little bit funny when it happened, considering there was not a chance in hell you were about to let any mystical creature drag off your poor boyfriend. As soon as Dylan got swung up to the roof: screaming and begging for you and Ryan to get him down, you jumped onto the desk and latched yourself on Dylan's back like koala bear. Your legs are quick to wrap around his waist until your heels kick up onto the slats, your arms wrapping around his waist until you manage to reach past and grab onto thick handfuls of warm... oozing fur.

With a swift punch to the snout, the two of you fall unceremoniously to the floor in a resounding crash. You managed to cover most of Dylan's moans during your fall by cradling him into your stomach, taking most of the brunt of the force. The poor guy for a moment just curls up on top of you in a state of wide-eyed shock, the side of his cheek heavy as he smooshed it against the side of your jaw. It's almost domestic: almost sweet, as he tugs his legs up between your knees and hides his eyes by turning his head into the curve of your neck. It's the same manner in which he wakes up every morning, hiding himself by nestling himself into you every time the sunrise comes falling through the dusty cracks of the Quarry's alpine blinds and makes him jolt awake.

This time, though. This time is far worse. Because then he starts laughing: a hoarse, shaking, unnerving noise that seems to seep through your throat and make you choke on your tongue. You do your best to grab onto his biceps as he starts shaking, his hands beginning to ball into your shirt as the reality of what's just happened to him settles in.

This man has seen enough horror movies in his life. If he's going to die, he wants to do it lying here in your arms.

Before he knew what was happening, he's being lifted up into your arms bridle style and rushed out towards the pool house. The whole way there, despite the agonising pain he's in, he keeps pressing his lips into your collar bone and giggling like a school boy caught head over heels by his crush. Even when your hands finally slip off from underneath his knees and you gently perch him on the edge of a sink, he's still cradling the side of his head on his neck and looking down at you as if you hung every star in that unbridled sky. It doesn't matter if you're trying to use a cloth to clear some of the blood from underneath his eyebags, or using some bandage Abi found in one of the pool lockers, this man is too busy trying to spend every second he has left as him enraptured by you. That means you have to work with him biting his bottom lip and smiling wonkily as he dodges the cloth and instead grabs onto your fingers, pulling them to his lips so he can kiss your knuckles one by one languidly. He looks so soft - so goddamn soft as he nudges his cheek against your intertwined hands, letting them rest against the side of his face.

He gets really fidgety, and it's then that you suddenly understand he's asking for a reassurance kiss: for the knowledge that you're not going to leave him. He’ll never say it outright, because deep down he’s too embarrassed and touch starved to admit it, but you can always tell. He has so many give away signs: he starts looking down at the floor, taps his feet against the tiles and fidgets his hips back against the porcelain, plays with his fingers by threading them through each other until you lean up to kiss the tip of his nose, and then he just beams with pure, unbridled happiness.

'You're so beautiful, you know that?' Even with the tendrils beginning to twist up his forearm, even half delirious with the stress of what had been happening that night, even thinking he's about to die he's still thinking of you. Worried about you. Desperate for you to know, that it's always been you. That it's all you.

'Dylan... I love you too, but if you keep putting yourself in danger to save everyone else I'm going to kick you into Lake Septimus ass first, okay?'

'Look, I've never met the guy, and although I'm sure he's lovely you're the only person I want to fall ass first onto', he replies, trying his best to hide how his eyes were starting to burn: how his eyes were beginning to crinkle with the effort of stopping his face contorting in pain by cupping your cheeks with his large palms and pressing a lingering, needy kiss against the side of your mouth.

'Ew. Gross, guys.' You turn your head to raise an amused eyebrow at Kaitlyn, but she only shakes her head and turns her attention back to the knitting gash on Nick's leg.

He seems to spend half of the time hiding behind your back! Like, you can just feel the slight tremble as his slender fingers touch your shoulder, and then the growing shadow against the lodge chimney as he jolts behind you. He's trying his best, bless his heart, even though the way he tucks the jut of his chin into your shoulder blade and grabs onto your biceps restricts you from shooting off Caleb when he comes clambering up the stairs towards the two of you.

But also even though he knows you're super bad ass he is 100% ready to launch himself, full-body starfish jump, in harm's way at the first sign of danger. Such as when Emma comes jumping out of the minivan, and Dylan straight away launches you away from him and nearly bearhugs her to the stony ground. Thankfully, you manage to tear off a branch from one of the encircling pine trees and strike the werewolf off Dylan; a near home run hit had her scrambling off into the woodland again as fast as her four legs could carry her. For a moment, your boyfriend just lounges against the dirt, shaky breath only interrupted by the sound of his wincing as he begins to flick pebbles off the deep scratches lining his elbow. Then, before you can even blink, he comes scrambling on his hands and knees towards you like a prowling predator, before melting into you. His arms are quick to lock behind your hamstrings; Dylan doesn't even bother to get up off his knees, he just shoves his head into your bellybutton and refuses to move until he can feel your fingers card through his scalp.

'Oh my god!', he finally starts, once you begin to unlatch his rusted fingers from around his legs by pulling at them one by one. 'I can't believe you never told me!'

'Told you what?'

'That you're secretly the sports coach! I knew Jacob was too much of a butthead - I just knew he was too busy playing hookup to look after the kids. That's the real tea from this summer.'

For real though - it doesn't matter where you are: turn around and Dylan's on your heels like your own personal walking, talking, screeching shadow. You have a bet with Kaitlin on whether he's managed to build a teleporting machine during his free time in the radio shack, because you could be down scouting the kitchen and he could be up looking at the weird family pictures in the lodge's attic, but at the first sound of any kind of howl he's there. You barely have time to duck down behind the counter before your boyfriend has made you jump out of your skin; he's standing right by the freezer (how tf did he manage to get all the way there without you hearing him??), completely out of breath and holding a cast iron skillet in his hands like a baseball bat.

'What?', he shrugs down at you with a tired smirk, putting his free hand on his hip and wiggling them a little. 'My mom always told me that it's better to be prepared than to catch anything unexpected. And I'm not letting you get bit too.'

'I'm... not quite sure that's what she meant. But thanks, sweetie.'

The nickname has his face burning a deep-set roseate for the next thirty minutes.

And then the two of you meet Laura, and this man's world just turns upside down. You turn down her offer to join her in trying to find Chris Hackett and end all of this for good, but from where Dylan was sitting on the bench next to the rattling window, he missed out on your reasoning why. He missed out on how you'd admitted that your sole focus: your one care now was to make sure that Dylan was safe. That you cared about him more than anything, and Mr. H could go to hell as far as you're concerned. You had to make sure Dylan survived the night.

Dylan's eyebrows crumpled when you came, cross armed, to unsteadily take a seat next to him again. He was too nervous to ask what the two of you had agreed, so he just fiddled with his thumbs and let the idea that he was holding you back darken his thoughts.

That he was a hinderance. That he was an annoyance.

He doesn't know what else to do, so as the two of you head out to the Hackett scrapyard in search of a new rotor arm, he takes up every silent moment by cracking wise. It starts to worry you - the way he can barely touch you. How he holds his hands in near claws against the meat of his biceps: how he barely lets his leg brush against yours before he jolts away again as if electrified. He even seems anxious when you reach out and grip onto his hand, his hold limp and loose as he lets it sway uneasily in the growing gap between your bodies.

He's just so afraid that if he lets go now, you'll be letting go of him forever. So he doesn't want to hold on at all. He feels it will be easier this way: kinder to you, to feel as if he's just drifting off with the breeze, a fond memory of long summers spent at some strange, long forgotten Quarry.

But you know him far too well not to register the full-blown panic behind his eyes as he dares to take a glance over at you. So please, shove this guy up against the nearest trunk of a tree, hold him up by shoving your knee in-between the seams of his thighs, and kiss him silly until all he can do is saunter off with a dopey smile and a brain so far up in the clouds all he can do is laugh rather than string together a sentence!!!

Literally I feel like this would heal him. Give this poor bby the love he's so desperately craving.

Straight up hefting him over your shoulder and carrying him away from Caleb in the scrapyard. The confused look on Kaitlyn's face as her head slowly turns to follow the set of you sprinting past with a screaming Dylan folded over your back like a snapped ruler is mfcking hilarious I'm not going to lie.

You refuse to leave him in the crane. Not even when he's gouging into the balls of your shoulders, crying and yelling and begging you to leave. To run. To get the hell away from him while you still can. Between his tormented yelps, you do your best to grab onto his face despite how forcefully his body's contorting. Despite how his fingernails are starting to cut into your skin and send blood blooming out in wispy tendrils across your shirt. You just place your thumbs up against the darkness obscuring the sides of his eyes and try to keep Dylan looking at you. To try and make him understand, to try and make sure the last thing he saw before he turned was you not leaving him. Not Ever.

#the quarry #the quarry imagine #dylan lenivy #dylan lenivy imagine #dylan lenivy x reader #dylan lenivy headcanons #dylan the quarry #dylan the quarry imagine #dylan the quarry x reader #dylan the quarry headcanons

[trippygalaxy]

Hello! Mind if I submit a request? Your Warriors one turned out so well!

As far as gift-giving for each of the chain goes, what kinds of things do you think they'd like to receive?

(Also--and you can totally say no to this--could I write shorts based off of yours answers? I'm genuinely curious as to what you'd think, and I've hit writers block currently for the requests I have in my own inbox 😓)

You're doing great, by the way!!

Courage and Gifts

OMG YES! Love this idea and you can totally write something based off this!!!

(Edit: HOLY SHIT! This took longer than expected! I struggled so much with Four and Legend so I'm sorry if those ones are out of character!)

Requests: Open!

Time

Joke Gifts!

Time has a secret appreciation for gag gifts but will NEVER admit it out loud unless he wants the boys to constantly give him walking canes or the medieval equivalent to Werther's Originals. But nevertheless, he does appreciate the gift/joke when he's out of sight.

Oh, please give him a pun book. His eye(s) will light up when he realizes what it is, but be prepared cause he isn't gonna shut up any time soon.

Ocarina

A new ocarina and new memories. He won't admit it but he chest does get tight at the sight of it, but his heart flutters in the same beat. He's gentle as he takes it into his hands, admiring the wooden instrument in it's construction. Now, he is more used to the 12 holed ocarina but isn't against learning how to use other kinds of ocarinas, magical or not.

Warriors

Bouquet of Flowers

Such a soft and beautiful gift will warm his heart! Being so used to the harsh memories of wars and death, the sight of the beautiful bouquet makes him stutter for a moment. It takes a second for him to register that this is for him. The delicate petals, the vibrant colours, they contrast the bloodied swords and shields. It's....nice.

Earrings

Warriors strikes me as someone who has a collection of earrings. Now, seeing as he is a Captain he can't carry such things around with him. It not because he's embarrassed or ashamed (quite the opposite actually), it's simply a safety hazard and would take up more room than necessary. So he keeps such things in his quarters back home, which means he has had the same simply earrings in for months.

So, its easy to say he got excited when he opened the small box he was handed and saw what was inside. He'll put them in immediately and practically prance around camp!

Twilight

Handmade Blankets

Twilight grew up in a small village, so gifts like this aren't unfamiliar! Most of his blankets back home were gifts to him, so being given a similar gift fills him with nostalgia! He melts even more if he was given the thick woven blanket because the gifter was concerned he gets cold. (Tbh he's probably a living furnace but it's still nice!)

Bandana

At first he's very confused at the gift but still appreciated it! It was a lovely green that went well with his armor and tunics. And as he tied it around his neck, it fit perfectly! It wasn't too tight or loose and it didn't bother his neck. As much as Twilight enjoys the gift he can't help but be confused...and a little suspicious.

He continued to fiddle with the bandana even when you made a hasty retreat. Suddenly, he fingertips ran across something that stuck off from the fabric. Twilight gives a light tug and pulls off the bandana to get a closer look only to find a tag. At a closer look he notices the brand on the tag.

It was a fucking dog brand bandana.

Sky

New Wood Carving Tools

A new set of carving tools would mean a lot to him! I'd like to think that he has two sets that he owns, a very well made set that is back at Skyloft and one decent set that he carries on him at all time. The ones on him have seen almost as much as he has, and have been chipped beyond repair. BUT to be gifted with brand new tools that beat any tools he had at home is truly baffling!

Plushie

Something soft, tiny and comfortable to sleep with?! SIGN HIM UP! The soft fabric, the cute aesthetic and thoughtfulness! He loves it and couldn't be more happy, and if you sewn it yourself? DOUBLE LOVE!! He doesn't care what the others have to say, he is holding that plushie to his chest every damn night! Bonus points if it is a loftwing and bonus bonus points if its red!

Wild

Recipe Book

A BOOK FILLED WITH NEW AND INTERESTING RECIPES?! How could he refuse such a brilliant gift! Now, as much as Wild loves cooking and experimenting with all sorts of food, he also loves learning about the culture surrounding these dishes! It is served with other specific dishes? Is it associated with certain events? How common is it? Or is it considered a cuisine! Bonus points if these foods are from your background! He has many questions.

Masks

Wild certainly has a large collection of masks, so large that it almost rivals the old man's! Almost. But he is always happy to add to his odd collection, especially if its more monster masks! He'll be more than happy to sit down and listen to you as you explain the origin of this mask! The more scary the better!

Legend

A Unique Item (Handmade items/gifts. I.e. art work, clothes, jewelry etc)

What do you get the man who -quite literally- has everything? Something one of a kind! Something that was made out of love and struggle (and maybe tears but who am I to say). Whether it's simply or complex gift he'll love it all the same. The fact you thought to make something from scratch just for him warms his heart. Even if he won't admit it!

Sea Shells

He's very very confused at first. He didn't mean to sound rude as he asked why you give him a sack of shells, but he was quick to regret his tone as you shrink back. But the reason you gave nearly brought him to tears.

You quietly said you've been collecting them for him, collecting them from everywhere the group has been. But as he continued to press, you admitted you wanted to gift him something to that when he left -when everyone left- he'd know that this was real. That everyone was real. And that he had friends from across time and space.

Four

Customized Hammer

Not only would Four love a new forging/blacksmithing hammer but on that customized for him?! He would be so giddy! Now, you may be asking, how is it a customized hammer? What makes it special?

The sides of the hammer are engraved with images! And these images look like a familiar small mouse creature~ They are subtle in their design and from an outsiders view, it'll look like some sort of logo!

Jeweled Bracelet

Something small but strong, either brought or made. Inlaid in the bracelet are four gems that sit side by side. Four gems of vibrant colours, each one representing each part of him. The inside of the bracelet -the part that rests again his skin- holds his initials. The metal is a harsh contrast to his warming skin, he really likes it.

Hyrule

New Flowers/Herbs

A hobby of Hyrule's is pressing flowers and herbs in his journal, which is filled with information about everything single plant found in it (based on this headcanon). Being given something to add to his collection brings him so much joy and excitement! Oh, how he can't wait to find out what interesting properties these plants might have! Bonus points if you gifted specific flowers to him cause they reminded you of him! Bit of a warning, he might get extremely flustered!

Compass

For a traveler, he tends to get lost quite a bit huh? He will be quite grateful for a compass to help whenever he steps off the trail! Though at first he is quite embarrassed and tries to say that, while he appreciates the gift he doesn't need a compass that bad! Hyrule accepts the gift after getting a stern look from some members *ahem* Time *ahem* of the group.

Wind

A Ship in a Bottle

A thoughtful gift that reminds him of home. When presented with the gift he has to contain the squeal of joy! (He fails but don't tell anyone) He turns the bottle over in his hands, trying to see every detail of the ship trapped inside. Bonus points if the ship itself resembles Tetra's boat. (A few tears might fall but that's a secret between you and him)

A Beaded Bracelet

It doesn't matter if it's hand made or store bought, he loves it with his whole heart! Whether the beads are crafted by the most talented craftsmen or by a simple tool, he admires every detail and every nick in the wood (intentional or not!). He can't help but smile as he slips it onto his wrist, it reminds him of the matching bracelets his little sister used to make for both of them.

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #linked universe headcanons #linked universe au #linked universe x reader #lu x reader #reader insert #kinda? i guess? #lu the chain #request #ITS DONE! #I OPEN YOU GUYS LIKE IT! #💫star may💫 #tales out of orbit

[yuukri]

ah i havent been online for a bit so i dont know if you're still taking requests, but if you are, can i request itafushi? with the prompt being something sweet like cuddling... but then one of them (or both! your choosing!) can't help but think that moments like these aren't going to last forever :( if you decide not to write this then thats understandable, hope all is well! 💞

“fushiguro,” yuuji calls. he shifts a little under his comforter, trying to get a better look at his room. there’s no noise bar the expected groan of creaky foundations and the hum old radiators.

“fushiguro!” he tries again. another beat, another moment of almost silence and still nothing.

“megumi,” the final attempt, after this yuuji will give up and go back to his manga. a few seconds pass with no movement, as though the whole building has held its breath in hope.

and then, finally, the soft thud of slippered feet on wooden floors. megumi appears at the door with an overflowing basket of clean laundry perched on his hip.

“you called?” he drawls as he steps over the threshold, only half closing the door behind him. he sets the basket down by the foot of the bed and stares at yuuji, wrapped under two too many blankets and fluffy haired from rolling about, expectantly.

“i did,” yuuji says around his grin. he worms a hand out of his quilt cocoon to beckon the other boy over.

“i have to sort the laundry.” megumi says, even as he shuffles into grabbing range. yuuji catches him by the wrist as soon as he can, tugging firmly but softly all the while. megumi makes some sounds that are almost protests but falls as easily as ripe fruit do great trees, until he’s half on top of yuuji and half dangling above the floor.

“it’s cold,” yuuji says brightly, pressing them closer together and dropping the volume in his hand to reach for megumi’s hair. “let’s cuddle.”

“we have chores,” megumi points out. they’d been putting them off for a while. there was laundry and budgeting and the stove needed to be cleaned. nobara had coincidently decided to get her hair re-dyed today and so the recycling had also piled up.

“mmm, they’ll still be here if we laze around for say… forty minutes.”

“twenty,”

“thirty!”

“thirty then,” megumi sighs, kicking off his slippers and joining yuuji on the bed proper. the room falls into sort of silence again, just the burble of ancient radiators and the lullaby of the creaking foundations. it smells a little sweeter, yuuji thinks, like freshly washed sheets and freshly dried socks — but that wasn’t it, there was something more, something deeper and cooler, like a pine forest after rainfall.

“what are you sniffing at?” megumi says as he traces vague patterns along the exposed parts of yuuji’s neck.

“nothing,” yuuji lies as he shuffles closer, adjusting the blankets so they cover his bedmate too. in a few minutes it will grow far too warm for the both of them but for now, it’s toasty, blissful heaven.

“liar,” megumi says with no bite, but when yuuji turns so he can press his nose to megumi’s neck, he says nothing, simply let’s him. after all, there would always be laundry and it always could wait, who knew how much time they had left to be like this.

#chel works on the bathhouse floor #chellywrites #requests #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #itafushi #first request and it’s so on brand for me it hit my writer’s block with a mallet and i churned this out in literally 10 minutes #thanks nonny! i hope this was cuddly and subtlety sad enough :D

[kotilae]

How has Anne Rice fanfiction been held back all these years? There's nearly 2000 works on AO3 alone 🙄

Hello lovely anon! While I personally haven't delved super deep into the issue regarding Anne Rice and the legal actions taken towards the fanfiction community (as I'm not a fanfic author, myself, and only really became active online around 2013 and into the fandom in 2016-17 after the issue had already settled), I'm going to do my best to relay the general information regarding it from what I have witnessed among discussions and was able to look up, and give my own personal input into the current situation surrounding it. Anyone who might've been around to personally experience or see the controversy when it happened, please feel free to correct any inaccuracies there might be in the notes! In the days of FFnet circa early-2000s, Anne Rice was a little picky about creations surrounding her works - specifically fanfiction. Wanting to protect her brand and honor the copyright, there were formal requests (i.e., cease and desist orders) sent out by her lawyers to the website that hosted the fics, to take down any and all titles containing the Vampire Chronicles brand (though I'm not sure if individual emails were sent to authors themselves). The tag and works were taken down, since of course the site didn't want to face financial ruin. Around the early-2010s, she finally relented on her stance regarding the works:

"I got upset about 20 years ago because I thought it would block me," [Rice] said. "However, it’s been very easy to avoid reading any, so live and let live. If I were a young writer, I’d want to own my own ideas. But maybe fan fiction is a transitional phase: whatever gets you there, gets you there."

AO3 has been a popular platform for fic creators since its founding in 2009, but I'm sure we can all agree it's really hit its peak since the 2010s and has continued going strong, which was around the same time she relented and drew back. Given Rice's eventual indifference and desire to remain blissfully unaware towards fanfic, I couldn't really be certain whether or not she even knew AO3 existed in the first place (answers we now will probably never get, unless her son Christopher might know, if it's even ever brought up) - giving writers some leeway nearly from the get-go, I'm sure. Definitely once the legal action ceased, there was an uprise in those works being posted once again. However, knowing how loyal the fanbase could be towards the creator of such influential and iconic works (or maybe and more likely, there were still people afraid that they might open their inbox to a cease and desist), I have a feeling that there is a LOT of Vampire Chronicles fanfiction that has been kept in authors' personal files, never posted or once taken down before, that have yet to be posted again since Rice's passing.

The fanfiction is there, it's always BEEN there, but there were definitely some bumps along the road that some weren't able to comfortably surpass until now. What we've seen so far is that there has indeed been fics held back due to the past legal issues having a lasting impact, that are only now being posted since the author passed, seeing as the VC tag suddenly blew up this week.

If I'm being honest, I also would have expected such an influential and beloved series to have FAR more than just a little over 2000, almost 3000 fics written for it (which is still a lot, don't get me wrong!) The VC fandom is much larger than even I thought back when I participated in it. It shocked me to see how much just wasn't there when I looked up the tag on AO3 for the first time (Of course, that number has also grown quite a bit since then, but I digress)

TL;DR, there were legal issues in the past, and that can have a lasting effect on a community of individual creators that were there the first go-around, that might've been frightened it could happen again unexpectedly. Now that Rice is no longer with us and hence not able to pursue any more legal action, those unlocked hypothetical chains are no longer threateningly dangling in the shadows, either.

#asks #a bit of a ramble but I wanted to answer this as best and respectfully as I could #vampire chronicles #edit: and while I know her estate still exists and still holds the copyright #I think the lead for that was passed onto Christopher iirc #and it seems very unlikely that he would hold any similar stance or desire to go after fanfic #also I know the vast majority of those fics were already there before her passing #but like I said - there are *some* that never made it to posting until now #or some older fics from that era that are now being republished #fanfic wasn't held back in any exponential way after she changed her stance. you're right on that anon #but there's definitely a few that chose the safest path and decided to wait until the (mostly) all-clear #I'm also not super involved with vc anymore so I'm just going by what I've been seeing and hearing among the fandom #from an outside perspective on the whole new-fanfic situation

[hwrryscherry]

The one with the New Year’s Eve

characters: HARRYxMODEL Y/N

blurb: It’s Dec 31st, 2020 and this is the first time since they started dating that Harry and Model Y/n won’t be traveling for New Year’s Eve but an outing to the Rockfeller Center may be all they needed.

word count: 4.6K

author’s note: HI GUYS!!!! So first of all I wanna say MERRY CHRISTMAS and HAPPY NEW YEAR to everyone🥳🥳 I know I've been MIA BUT I had a major writer's block and it felt so bad and I couldn't finish this blurb even though I was trying so hard. Anyway, here it is and I hope you like it as much as I do. I also want to say that the reason why I closed my requests it's because we're starting a new year and I want to release all of my requests before receiving new ones. I'm excited for 2021 and I hope it brings all the peace that 2020 didn't. And I'm also very excited to see where 2021 will take Harry and Model Y/N's relationship🥰 Anyway, Happy New Year everyone, I'm so grateful for the support I've been receiving about my writing. I see all of you and I appreciate all of you. THANK YOU!!!♥️♥️♥️♥️

— Can I wear this? — You’d ask looking at Harry while holding one of his dress shirts that was light bluely, with some navy blue strands in it up in the air showing it to him. It's an old shirt, though. You remember buying it for Harry in your first year of dating and you also remember probably wearing it more than Harry himself.

   Harry was sitting by the couch on the living room of your NYC apartment. After spending such a magical time with your families in the French Alps, you both decided that spending christmas with your family was more of a priority than going on your annual new year's trip and that's the reason why you and Harry decided to come back to the USA and after being in LA for so long, New York just felt like the perfect choice. You like Los Angeles, but New York hit different. You loved everything about NY, and you loved the memories and story you created to yourself in NY and that's why you'd choose NY over LA without thinking twice.

   Anyway, Harry was in the couch using his personal phone what made you assume that he's probably talking to his mom or Gemma because it's already 2021 in London and Cheshire, and unlike him, you had already sent Gemma and Anne a text earlier today because they knew that you took hours to get ready even though you're not even preparing to be "glamurous".

   Harry had his pink velvet pants on and a white shirt over it, and only complementing with his vans. Not the old "white" one with the pink shoelaces that he wore everywhere, including in the Vogue cover. Tonight he was wearing the good traditional vans. That one, that is black and have the Vans icon in white. And you couldn't smell from the spot you were but you could assure yourself that he was smelling like heaven, as he always does with his perfect hair that has just been washed, his freshly shaved beard and his nails, that even though wasn't painted by a professional, you can be proud of your job and honestly, so could Harry, because he really loved that you did his nails for him and even matched with yours. Otherwise, you were using a black baggy jeans and a bra because as always, you were procrastinating for too much time and had to get ready when Harry was already ready. A typical night out for both of you.

   Harry lifted his head to analyze your figure in front of him and the cloth piece you had in your hands as he listened to your voice and question directed at him.

— Sure! — He answered your question getting his attention back to his phone right after speaking. You sighed and calmly walked towards the man on the couch and sit besides him what brought his attention to you. You rested your right hand upon his thigh and then rested your chin on his right shoulder and stared at the boys captivating green eyes.

— You're alright? — You asked with a low voice tone giving the boy a tender smile. Harry looked kinda sad, not sad, he seemed a bit down and whenever you noticed he looked like this you would usually get worried about him because you just care and love him so much that you never want to see him in anyway but happy.

— Yeah, I am! — Harry said, but it sounded more like a whisper or a murmur and you kept your gaze at him waiting for him to tell the truth and he sighed letting out a chuckle. Sometimes he'd just forget about how great you knew him. He'd look to his feet upon the grey carpet of your living room and then back at your face on his shoulder — Just feel bad, ye' know? If we were in other circumstances we'd be with our friends or family having the most fun in some place around the world — He'd tell you as he widens his eyes a little and you felt his muscles tense under your hands — It's not that I won't have fun just with you, love —  He'd now complement making you let out a small chuckle at his words because of course you understood exactly what he was saying even though you didn't say anything yet — It's just different, like, there won't be having any shows by the Times Square and all that stuff and I wanted it to be fun for you.

— So...you're worried about me not having fun tonight? — You'd ask him with an ironic tone and raised eyebrows lifting your chin from his shoulder and staring at his face. Your mocking expression and tone was based on the irony f the situation because earlier today you were talking to him about how most of the times that you were together you just felt like you could be stuck in a room with him forever and it would be the funniest thing you've ever done.

— Kinda! — He'd murmur deflecting his gaze from yours until he listened to you let out a giggle which made him look immediately at you as he tried to understand why you were laughing and if you were mocking at him for being that worried about something very silly.

— Harry...how could you even think that? I’ll always have fun with you! — You'd say lively with a smile on your lips and then take a deep breath while you finished forming the words you were about to say in your mind — It's been such a long and hard year and we had some amazing moments and some really bad moments but we're here. We're alive, we're healthy and most of all, we're here together and believe me, even if the world ends by the time that clock turns midnight, there's no other person I'd rather spend the end of the world with — You'd say making a little fun of the "end of the world" conspiracy that you've read previously on that same day and couldn't help giggling with Harry as you'd hear that same angelic sound coming from his mouth. You'd take your hand that was upon his thigh and grab his hand taking it to your lips giving a slight kiss to it feeling the cold metals of his rings against your cheeks and then you gave him a tender smile — Don't worry about it, it'll be great! It will be more than great, it'll be exquisite!

— Alright, alright! — Harry'd say with the cutest smile on his face. That type of smile that you could feel his happiness through it. Now he took your hand to his lips and gave a peck in it — You should finish getting ready though, weren't you the one that was dying for pizza and burgers? — Harry’d tell you mocking at the fact that you've been talking about wanting to eat pizza and burgers from NYC for the past three days in a row and how annoying you were being about it. And with his comment you'd fastly stand up with the shirt in your hands and look at him with a cheeky smile in your face.

— I'll go, I'm sorry for being the best girlfriend in the world and use my time to comfort you! — You'd say ironically as you walked back to the bedroom listening Harry's laugh and a "You're forgiven" being loudly said by your boyfriend.

— By the way, I don't think you should go out only with that shirt because it’s freezing outside! — Harry said on a loud tone from the living room and you'd look up to the big glass window in your bedroom and realizes that he was right. It was probably 32 °F outside and only this shirt wouldn't make you warm enough, so you'd walk to the closet placed in your bedroom and take a dark grey long sleeve blouse and dress up before complementing with Harry's dress shirt and taking out of the closet your brand new leather jacket that you gained from Gemma on christmas day, remembering how perfect it was becase Gemma knows you well enough to know that you'd love it when she bought it. And lastly, you put on shoes that looks more like boots. And finally, with your jacket and your bag in your hand you walked into the living room after turning off the bedroom light.

   You were completely ready when you'd step in the living room with your phone in your hand getting all the attention from Harry that immidietely stoped using his phone to admire you. One of the things that Harry most loved in you is that you don't need to put on the most glamurous outfit or makeup to look stunning and you knew that. You knew that you were beautiful in your own way and if you felt like glamming up, you'd be gorgeous and if you didn't feel like it, you'd still be gorgeous. Harry admired your tomboy styled outfit. He'd admire how your hair fell upon your face as you finished typing on your phone and how you'd use your hand to put a strand of hair behind your ear, giving to him the vision of your gold earrings that was also a previous birthday gift from him. He'd admire the fact that both of your nails were painted the same color because you only had one good nail polish to use so you'd go out matching nails color. He'd admire how the delicate golden rings on your fingers would sparkle because of the light in the room and he'd notice too how your face looked pretty with the small amount of makeup you had putten on your face for the night and he could only imagine how great you smelled now with the one perfume you use since the day he met you and he'd remember how much he loves that scent. He loved everything about you. He loved even the small things about you that stressed the shit out of him. He learned to love your annoying habits just as much as he loved the precious little things about you.

   Harry would stand up from the couch putting his phone on the inner pocket of his black coat as he walked towards your distracted self on the phone. You'd only notice him when he'd stop right beside you looking at your figure. You'd stop looking at the screen of your phone and lift your head up a bit to see the man's smiley face beside you. He was silent and it seemed awkward so you'd let out a chuckle and frown a little at him.

— What are you doing? — You'd ask him holding a mistrusting look on your face as you waited for him to pronouce anything as a response.

— I just think that you look really pretty and I love you! And your hair looks really pretty, though — Harry would say quietly with a tender smile on his face as he listened you murmur a "aw, thank you, love!" with the biggest smile on your lips. He knew how much you loved when he compliments your hair so he'd do it often just to make you smile this big. He'd use his hands to cup your face and lean in a little to give you a peck in the lips — Let's get going! Where do you want to go first?

— Honestly, I wish we went to The Greens at Pier 17 because it looked really cute this year in the pics I saw — You'd tell him as both of you walked towards the door and left the apartment walking to the elevator as you both put on your masks. Your apartment was situated in East Village so depending on the place you'd choose to go, it would take you a while to get there and that's the reason why neither of you had enough patience to drive in NYC, specially on a night like this one because the traffic in New York can be considerated out of this world.

— Isn't it open? — Harry would ask pressing the elevator button to take you to the lobby of the building and feel as the elevator started to go down with both of you in it.

— No, it was between 6 and 10pm, I guess! — You said pressing your back agaisnt the elevator wall as you felt it going down. It's crazy, but whenever you enter a elevator you think about what would happen if it starts collapsing, yes, it's weird — But all I want is to eat a pizza from East Village Pizza because I haven't eaten it in ages — You'd complement letting out a chuckle feeling the elevator stops at the lobby floor.

— Alright, we can go eat pizza and just hang out! Will you be meeting Bella? — Harry said as the elevator door opened giving both of you the iluminated vision of the streets lights coming through the big glasses in the front of the building. You and Harry walked past the porter and both of you smile at him and waved before leaving. You both are very familiar to Toby, the porter of your building and that's the reason why you'd wish him a Happy New Year before leaving, and you also have lived in this building in the past 5 years probably.

— No, she’ll spend it with her family. They’ll all spend it together because of the baby, I guess — You'd answer him feeling the freezing air run through the skin of your face at the moment you'd step in the street. You'd notice the wet floor underneath you because it rained the entire morning and the beginning of the afternoon, there was no resting sign of the snow that happened some days ago but you could definetly still notice the past rain, specially because of all the christmas lights that iluminated the streets now.

   You and Harry walked your way to the East Village Pizza because it was really close to your house which at this moment seems amazing but it's not. It takes you a lot of control to not dine their pizza everyday though. Pizza it's pizza, if you don't like pizza you can't even be consideraded a human being, just saying.

   You and Harry could notice the few people leaving their houses as you walked, and some of them were already by the streets though. The thing is that the big New Year's Eve attraction in New York is the Ball Drop in Times Square and this year is not allowed to have a crowd in there so the streets wasn't completely crowed and honestly that made you feel a little better. It's just that paranoic feeling that when you're around a lot of people you start thinking that one of them is infected, probably everyone during this pandemic had felt like this at some point.

By the moment you and Harry arrived at the pizzeria and ordered your slices of pizza Harry couldn't hold back his laughs at your liveliness that you also couldn't hold back for finally eating your pizza. The place wasn't as crowed as it used to be at this time of the night and that's why you and Harry could take a sit in one of their empty tables. You and him would talk about silly things. You both would talk about the ending of Gossip Girl that you had just watched this afternoon because it was shocking to both of you. You'd talk about the songs you just added at your playlist and you'd talk about what you wanted to do tomorrow on the first day of the year.

— I don't accept any other plan that you can make but if it's to stay cuddling in bed with me all day, love — Harry would say and you'd giggle at his words. He had a point though, because you couldn't imagine anything better to do tomorrow than stay cuddled up in bed under the heavy blankets with him all day long; maybe watching a movie or starting a new tv show together as you just finished gossip girl, you'd probably starts Bridgerton because you have already read the books and you loved it. And then take as many naps as you wanted. It sounded perfect and he knew you just couldn't resist to it.

   It didn't take too much for both of you to eat your pizza slices and as you ate it, Harry would take tons of photos from you all smiley eating your pizza while dancing to a random song that was playing in the background of the pizzeria. Harry loved to take random pics of you and he'd do it everytime he had a chance, which was quite often. But he did it because this way, whenever he was away and his heart ached missing you, he could go on his gallery and see all the random pics he has from you and in some way feel closer to his girl and god, so did you. Even though none of you shared the millions of photos you'd have of each other's in your phones, it felt so good to have them with you whenever you needed it to make your hearts warmer.

                                        ...

— Alright but, do you think that Brad and Angelina slept together before or after he and Jen "broke up"? — You'd randomly ask Harry as you both left the cab that was taking both of you to the Rockefeller Center because a walk from East Village to Rockefeller Center would be a hell of a walk. You both felt the christmas lights on your faces and your eyes were glowing because of them and you couldn't think of a prettier thing in this moment. It wasn't your plan to celebrate the New Year's Eve in New York and actually, the last time you've celebrated it in this city was about four years about before you even met Harry. And honestly, it just feel really cool to go ice skating in Rockfeller Center and then later go dinner somewhere and starts 2021 with a person that you really loved and appreciate on a city that you really loved, and maybe this wasn't what you planned but it was what you needed.

— They definetely were! — Harry said almost immidietely making you let out a loud laugh over his comment. You love when Harry gets into his gossiping mode, it's probably the best thing ever. He doesn't do it much when he's sober, but when he's drunk he'd just say everything you ask him and that's usually really funny, expect for sometimes when he'd tell things that are supposed to be a secret — Just look at their movie together. You could see the sexual tension and no one will convice me otherwise!

— I know but he had a sexual tension with all his co-stars! Don't you remember Legends of the fall? He had a sexual tension with his brother's fiancé that later marries his other brother — You'd argue back to him as making your point. You and Harry are definetely the "Netflix & Chill" type of couple, and as in quarantine you stayed home, you and Harry watched tons of movies on netflix and you'd always take your time to discuss them pretty often. Movies, music and books are the things that fullfill both of your souls the most and that's the reason why you'd often get caught up on discussing the things you've saw.

— It wasn't sexual tension, it was chemistry. It's different, love! — Harry'd argue back throwing his arm upon your shoulders as you both walked closer to the small line of people that were waiting to go ice skating. And you'd stop walking as realizing that you and him just arrived at the right spot and as you waited on the line of the ice skating, you had your back pressed on Harry's chest as he hugged you from behind to take the cold away as you talked. It was a nice time where you could just catch up about your thoughts while admiring the christmas lights and the people on the rink, and if you must confess, laugh a little about the people that couldn't ice skate. Harry told you about his plans to release the Treat People with Kindness music video tomorrow and talked about working with Phoebe Waller-Bridge and had to deal with your drama about not meeting her for what it seems like the millionth time, but you did make it pretty clear to him that you were so excited about the video because you haven't watched it yet because you wanted it to be a new year's surprise to you. You told him about how you missed walking the runaway and everything you want to do in 2021 in your professional career and also personal life, like the books and movies you wanted to read and watch and the places you wanted to visit.

   Anyway, it didn't take you long to get on the ice skating rink, and it also didn't take you more than two minutes to start regretting it. You were clearly not the best skater in the world. You weren't even 50% good; reasonable, would be the right term. And so, when you didn’t have the ability to move gracefully and lightly across the ice, and instead had to skate by holding on to the bars or Harry's arm and then after, having Harry insisting on trying to let you skate alone and then having you to crash into on the floor, Harry couldn't help but laugh. The boy laughed so hard, in a way where he couldn't even breathe properly from laughing so much, and you couldn't contain your own laughs either. Of course, Harry helped you up and then asked you a thousand times if you were okay and you hadn't been hurt, but the scene was just too fun at the moment not to laugh and you'd admit it.

   At around 11:20 pm, you both retired from the skating rink as your time was up and then, you walked away from the short line to the ice skating rink getting a little far away from the line. You used your right hand to move some strands of hair from your face as Harry carefully looked at you.

— You're sure you're alright? — Harry asked one last time making you glare at him with an annoyed look at your face becase he had already asked this about forty times now. He'd shrug his shoulders and put his hands inside the pockets of his black coat — Alright, you're fine.

— I am, love! — You said wrapping your arms around yourself while moving your head to look around you before getting your gaze to focus on Harry's face again — Should we go to a restaurant? Because it's almost midnight! — You asked Harry that looked the time as he took his phone off his pocket to see that the clock indicated the time to be 11:25 pm.

— Yeah let's go! And it's cold here! — He'd say wrapping his arm around your shoulders as you both started to walk again. The things is that near Rockefeller Center, there was plenty of cool and great restaurants that of course you had no idea if they were or not open but it didn't cost you to go check and that's why you'd walk around it to see — Oh, let's go to Bill's Bar and Burger. I want nachos and fries so bad — Harry would say as he stopped walking abruptly in front of the restaurant making you to gaze at the place and then at him.

— Oh my god, yes! — You'd nod at him as you both walked inside the place. You've been in it before and the menu was spectacular, the burgers were so amazing and the place was really cool, though. It had a dark wooden floor and tables and big glass windows that gave you the perfect vision from outside and at the moment you both entered the space you noticed that it wasn't extremely crowed but it had a few people. The televisions in the walls transmitted the Times Square New Year's Eve performances and you sat at the table in the corner of the wall with a padded accent.

You'd take a look at the menu and order. Harry'd order a alcoholic beverage, unlike you that'd go with a coke because if your boyfriend went wasted you needed to take him home and take a 6'0 foot taller man home after few drinks can be quite hard. You'd order fries and nachos for Harry because he just eats fish now and then orders a chicken burger for you and then some milkshakes because you were going to eat all that you wanted as it was the last day of the year.

While your orders were being prepared, you and Harry talked about the christmas trip with your families and how funny it was. You'd talk about how the hell could you both forget about the christmas presents and how thank god you could find good new presents in the last minute. Harry would probably tell you about a life story of his starting by "in my epoch" sounding like he was forty years older than you because he knows that this pissed you off. He's three years older. It's not like it's a lifetime. But you'd find fun on his stories, just like he does to yours because even though you're younger than him, you both came from different sides of the world. From completely different families and cultures and it's so cool to share your experiences with each other. With the time, you and Harry learned that everyone had something to add in your life. Something about art, or about bad feelings or good feelings. Something about love, about friendship and jobs and opportunities. You both would reflect about how you just find things and people in life that makes you whole. You grow older and start noticing what really matters. You and Harry always travel on New Year and this year you didn't and being there, on a bar in New York just with each other having the most fun as you shared your stories, made you realize that it's not about the trip or the journey. It's about the person you have on your side as you doing those things. It's about having someone that you love at your side to share the good and the bad and after a hard year, you're lucky for having each other and getting out of it stronger than ever.

When the countdown started, everyone in the bar starting to count as well. You used your phone to record both you and Harry as you both counted. The camera caught the big smile perfectly that you and Harry had on your faces, and it actually caught the cheese from the french fries that Harry was previously eating right in the corner of his mouth but we don't have to focus on this part just yet. When the clock turned midnight, the entire bar screamed happily and you and Harry turned to each other with the happiest smiles ever, hugging each other sharing the "Happy New Year" and then sharing your first kiss of 2021, just as you both did three years ago when the clock turned midnight entering 2018 and you both shared the first kiss of your life. You've been kissing since then.

#hwrryscherry #harry and y/n #harry styles and y/n #harry x reader #HARRYxMODELY/N #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles au #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagines #harry styles imagine

[hayjeon]

Snow and Ice 02 [M] (ft. Jungkook)

→ friendswithbenefits!au with Snowboarder!JK and figure skater!reader during the Olympics. Warning for slight dirty talk. 

→ 13.7k | part 1 | part 2 | fin.

a/n: sorry this took so long, but I’m so glad to be writing for you guys and seeing your messages in my inbox again. This marks the end of snow and ice! Thank you so much for being patient and supporting this fic, and although this was a beast to get through because of my writer’s block, I hope you enjoy! I won’t be posting a story talk about this unfortunately, but feel free to request any drabbles with this couple! I love them so much <3 

“Come watch me,” he suggests, as you both get dressed for gym.

“Huh?” You frown at him, pulling on your sports bra and then smoothing over your spandex longsleeve over it. “Watch you do what?”

“Train, stupid.” He says, grinning as he brushes his teeth. He leans over, spitting in the sink bowl before continuing. “Watch me board, ‘n stuff.”

You turn in the mirror, tying up your hair. “Am I allowed to?”

He nods, now lathering up soap in his hands to clean his face. “Of course. The hyungs invite girls over all the time.”

You glare at him. “You too? You want me to be just another girl in the stands for you?”

He rinses off the soap. “Actually,” he says, patting his face dry and applying lotion. “you’re the first girl I’ve ever asked to come.”

You raise your brows, walking with him back to his room. “Seriously?” You perch on the bed, pulling on your leggings. “Dang, I would have assumed you had thousands of girls lined up to watch.”

He shrugs on a shirt. “I guess, but it doesn’t really matter. Here, how ‘bout this,” he suggests, handing you a yellow sweater, “Wear this, and i’ll be able to see you from the hill. That way I know to do my best.”

You roll your eyes as you pull it on, “You’re always supposed to do your best, Jungkook. It’s the Olympics.”

He grins, “Yeah, but I’d rather perform for you than anyone else, babe.”

Your heart does a little flutter at the comment and the nickname, and you turn to hide the grin that threatens to come onto your lips. “Shut up,” you giggle. 

Watching Jungkook, different from what you’d expected, is actually incredibly fun. He’s absolutely amazing at boarding, and as you watch him come down the slopes, he kicks up into the air with amazing speed and agility as he performs outstanding flips and turns in mid-air. He speeds recklessly fast towards the incline and flips off, turning thrice before landing perfectly onto the snow. He executes the boxes and the pipes with no effort at all. 

He’s really good, and you can see why he was chosen again, even amongst younger and older competitors. He was just absolutely the best.

He finishes his final run, and does a little turn at the end of the pipe and boards right up to you, the edge of his Burton scraping loudly against the snow as he brakes in front of you.

Grinning, he pulls off his goggles and leans down to unbuckle a foot from his board. He perches an arm against the fence you were behind.

“So,” he smirks, “what did you think?”

You blush, hoping he doesn’t notice and just credits your red cheeks to the cold. “You’re really good.”

That flakes up his ego and you watch as he laughs, reaching forward to curl a stray hair behind your ear and tuck your (well, technically his, because you stole it from him) beanie down better over your cold forehead. 

“Well, I wouldn’t be an Olympian if I wasn’t good,” he jokes, winking at you. He reaches forward and zips your (his) jacket all the way up. 

You roll your eyes, but your mouth is curling up in a smile. 

“Also,” he comments, “I could see you all the way from the hill,” he snorts, “This jacket is literally the best one to spot someone a mile away. The yellow pops like crazy against the snow.” 

You pat down the thing. It’s huge, almost reaching your knees and the sleeves way too long for your arms, but perfect enough so you didn’t have to wear gloves out in this weather. “It’s kind of big.” 

“You look cute,” he smirks, dusting off his own black jacket, with its own yellow accents on the zippers and the pocket buttons. Classy. “We match, see?” He’s also wearing a khaki pair of snowboarding pants and black pair of boots to match his signature Burton board. He looks good, decked out in gear or not. 

“Can I try?” You say shyly, “will you teach me?” 

His eyebrows shoot up. “Oh shit, seriously?” 

You nod, fingering at the zipper at his chest, where the top of his grey hoodie peeks out. “Yeah.” 

He smiles really big. “Yeah, I’m done training now. Wanna go right now? Since I have all my gear on.” 

You nod and follow him to the small cabin near the slopes where there’s a locker room for the other athletes. Almost like a snowboarding store, there are brand new boards lined up against the wall, all from huge companies who wanted the athletes to notice and maybe do a promotion. Jungkook walks casually up to one and grabs it, holding it next to you and making sure that it comes to around your eye-level. “Here,” he hands you the board, the blue glinting in the bright lights of the display. You take it with wide eyes, almost tipping over under the surprising weight of the board. 

He leads you to the boots where he grabs your size and sits you down on the bench to help you tie them. 

“Wish you wore better socks,” he comments, as he kneels in front of you to pull long socks on your feet, “But my emergency pair will have to do.” 

“Ew,” you crinkle your nose as he pulls them onto your legs, pulling the elastic as high as they can go up your calf. “Are you sure you washed these?” 

He flicks you playfully, laughing, “Of course. I’m not Seokjin hyung.” 

“Ew!” You exclaim, laughing loudly as he puts your foot in a heavy boot. He laces up the thick laces up the metal prongs, almost akin to the way you do yours when you lace up your skates. You wiggle your toes a bit, letting your calf press against the lip of the boot. “It’s a bit loose, don’t you think?”

He shakes his head. “There’s supposed to be a little wiggle room on your shins, because you need the room to move your ankles back and forth when you carve the slopes.” 

You watch him finish. 

“Okay,” he says, getting up and grabbing his own board. “This is how you strap them in.” He demonstrates with a foot, showing you how he cranks his straps first on the toe and then closer to your ankle with a skilled hand. “The crank will stop by itself when it doesn’t have enough space left to tighten.” 

“Okay,” you respond, doing your own foot yourself. “Is this right?” 

“Yeah,” he smiles, helping you up. “Alright, and you can put your foot here, and basically try standing.”

You get up from the bench and almost immediately topple over, and Jungkook catches you with a snort. You pout at him and use him to push yourself into equilibrium, spreading out your arms to get used to the feeling of having your feet strapped down so tightly against the ground. 

“Good,” he encourages, “now try twisting your torso back and forth, good.” 

“That’s it?” you raise your brows. 

He snorts at you. “That’s it?” 

You shrug, laughing at his incredulous expression when he scoffs at you. “I mean, it just looked a lot harder when you were doing it.” 

He raises his brows at you. “We’ll see how you do on the actual snow.”

Just like he’d predicted, you were absolute shit. 

“Fuck!” You exclaim as you fall down on your butt again, groaning and pouting as you let the soft snow cushion your back. 

He laughs at you, slowing down to board towards you and help you up, dusting off your back and legs when you finally get up on your feet. “No, no, that was good. You’re getting the hang of it.” 

You roll your eyes, “I heard you laugh at me, asshole.” 

He grins, “I told you, it was hard. It’s like me telling you that ice skating looks easier when watching it and doing it. It’s totally different.” 

You sigh, following his directions as you slowly acceleration down the bunny slope. Bend knees, arms out, lean back. 

He watches you with a big smile, grinning as you furrow your brows in concentration and focus on making sure you don’t fall while scraping down the hill. 

You start going too fast, and begin screaming as you instinctively lead forward, and Jungkook immediately boards up to you and scrapes to a stop in front of you, trying to catch you as you fall, but you’re going way too fast for him to stop you. 

He ends up toppling backwards, with you on top of him, and he lands with a loud “Oof!” and you look up at him in shock. He’s just laying there with his eyes closed and unresponsive.

“Jungkook! Are you okay?!” You blurt, patting the chest that you’re cradled against. 

“Ow,” he says, grinning down at you, snow all in his hair and sweater. “You’re a lot heavier than I thought.” 

You spit out a loud “ugh!” and hit his chest as you frown. “You scared me!” 

He laughs out loud, as you hit him continuously, his chest shuddering at the huge guffaws. “You thought I was dead or something?!” He snorts, grabbing your hand and holding it tight to stop you. You pout at him, “I thought you were hurt or you hit your head!” You shift a little, and Jungkook winces. 

“Oh my god,” you pant, “Why what’s wrong? Are you okay?” 

He groans. “Yo-your knee, it’s digging into my crotch. Ow.” He winces and you scramble off of him to stand up, as he rolls over to get up. 

“That was almost bad,” he says, kneeling up to stand. “This is precious private property.” 

You snort, dusting off his hair and sweater, “Ugh shut up,” You roll your eyes, “You like making fun of me too much.” 

He stops you, grabbing your hand as you pat off his chest, and pulling you up so your almost nose to nose. “No,” he grins, looking down at you through his lashes, “I like you.” 

Your cheeks heat up furiously, and you blurt out whatever you can to distract him. “I wanna do you right now,” you say before you can stop yourself, and Jungkook’s eyes widen, successfully caught off guard as he glances around to make sure none of the other bystanders heard your announcement. Your bury the lower half of your face in the turtleneck of his snow jacket. 

“Damn,” he mutters, smirking down at you, “watching me board got you that horny, that fast? You should come and watch me all the time.”

You roll your eyes, grinning behind a gloved hand. “Shut up. I’m starving. I found a nice sushi restaurant?”

He nods, unbuckling his helmet. “Down. Don’t you have training tomorrow?”

You nod. “Come watch me too?”

He grins, glancing around quickly before pecking you so quickly you’re even unsure if he did it or not. Your cheeks are red, from the biting cold but also something else. 

“Of course,” he whispers, and the both of you board slowly down to the board center, eyes only on each other. 

“Your skin got better,” Irene comments almost a week later, when you both are stretching in the gym.

“Seriously?” You grin, touching your cheek and turning to look at yourself in the mirror. “Thank god, I didn’t wanna have a gross pimple on the day of.”

She laughs. “Well, yeah. But you just look...I don’t know...happier? New vibrator or something?” She laughs as you yelp and punch her arm. “Irene!”

“What!” She laughs, giggling, “You’ve been going out a lot, I just assumed you’d been shopping around in secret or something.”

You just smile, tamping down the blush on your cheeks. You had been going out a lot, and Irene had noticed too for the past few days, since it was really really hard to ignore Jungkook’s pleas for you to just stay in his bed at night.

Also, it was really really cold outside, and Jungkook’s room had a heater that adjusted to make the temperature...really really warm. And perfectly toasty. But not too hot, because you hated sweaty cuddling.

It wasn’t because you...wanted to stay with him...or whatever. Yeah. Just the warmth. It was almost minus 20 outside, you’d be crazy to try to sneak in back home at 4 am in the morning. Also his room had...tons of great great yummy food that you couldn’t resist.

You finish the workout without a struggle, and you and Irene make your ways into the rink. Today, you would have to wait a little since the hockey team was finishing up, but it was good time to just take a break. Plus, the cute team captain, Jimin, had texted you a couple days ago, inviting you to come watch him if your coach let you.

You settle on the stands, nodding when Irene leaves because she left her skate guards in the dorms, and focusing back onto the ice. Jimin glides easily, ramming his shoulder into his teammate’s to steal the puck. Although it was a practice session amongst their own, Jimin was still ruthless, all whilst still gliding so easily over the ice. There was no wonder why he was such a great athlete and captain.

When he makes a score, you clap a tiny bit, but sounds of squealing catch your attention down the stands. A few junior olympians, clearly first-timers and gymnasts, if you could judge by their attire, squeal and cheer for the cheeky captain whenever he makes a score. And you notice, that the captain had definitely invited them to come watch, because everytime he hears them scream, he tips his head over to them and gives them a smirk and a wink that makes them squeal a little more.

“God,” you mutter to yourself, “They’re like a herd of piglets. Jesus,” You roll your eyes, feeling a little annoyed at the scene.

“Whatcha muttering about to yourself there, sweetcheeks?” A voice sounds to your left, and you see Jungkook, holding two cups.

You panic, glancing around him to see if anyone was watching, like your teammates or your coach, but Jungkook just assures you, “Chill, there’s no one here. And if they do see me, they’ll assume I’m just here to watch Jimin.” You take the cup he offers you, and sip it, moaning at the warm hot chocolate that flows down your throat.

“Oh god,” you groan, “He invited you too?”

Jungkook laughs, “Was the text you got last night while I was eating you out from Jimin?”

You punch him, glancing around again. “Again, chill. No one knows.”

You roll your eyes, sipping the drink and leaning down to watch the game. “Yeah,” you scoff, glaring at the little gymnasts cheer again for the captain. “But seems like he just copied and pasted it to literally every single girl here.”

Jungkook leans back, sipping his chocolate. “Well, Jimin’s sort of a player, sweetheart.”

You widen your eyes at him. “Seriously? But he doesn’t...act...wait...” You trail off, trying to think of what to say, but Jungkook catches you with a smirk.

“He doesn’t...what? Doesn’t look like one? Doesn’t act like one?” He laughs at you when you glare at him. “Sorry honey, but he does all of it. You just have a tendency to fall for the bad ones.”

You gesture to him, the way he’s manspreading all over the place and cockily perched on the stands like he owns it. He scoffs at you. “Clearly.” You mutter, finishing off your drink.

He just laughs, reaching over and pinching your butt. “I’m so gonna edge you tonight because of that,” he says lowly, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. You fidget, trying to pretend like you’re watching the game but to be honest you have no idea what the hell is going on. Your thighs are uncomfortably tense and your clit throbs against the material of your panties.

He leans in, grating against your ear. “You know I’m not like that. I’m a slave to you, and that delicious pussy.” He says, brushing your hair back nonchalantly, as if he wasn’t whispering the dirtiest things to you in the middle of an olympic stadium with other people there.

You fidget, and his eyes drop to the action. “Getting worked up, huh?” He grins, and you feel the way his body warmth lingers in the space. “Want me to do everything I say? Well let me tell ya,” he says lowly, still sipping on his hot chocolate, nonchalantly.

If anyone looked back and saw you both up in the stands, talking and watching the show, they’d assume you were both discussing the games or the positions or the way the puck was in Jimin’s hands or some hockey shit like that.

But this...

His voice is low enough to reach you from his place next to you, far enough to be professional, but close enough to be friendly. “I’m gonna throw you on the bed and rip all that fucking body tight spandex off,” he mutters, glaring at the leggings you love. “You always tease me, with how fucking tight that shit is on your body, and how I can literally see everything if I look at you in the right angle.”

You fidget, fingers tightening on the cup.

“I bet right now you’re this close to getting wet all over your leggings huh?” He whispers darkly, “Through your panties. Shit,” He grates, and you clench at the way he spits out the word. “I’ll fucking rip that shit off you and tie your hands to the bed and eat you out until you forget hockey captain’s fucking name. I’ll fucking edge you so much that you’ll be begging for my cock, begging and sobbing for me just to push it in.”

He takes another sip nonchalantly, seeming the every so lazy and serene image of the olympic professional snowboarder. Jeon Jungkook.

But you...you’re a little bit on the opposite end, head curling in to hide the redness of your cheeks and torso bending over your crossed knees to cover the pants that you let out. Your clit throbs heavily against the slit of your panties that is pressed right against your wetness, and your fingers twitch to just reach down and rub one out.

But the stadium is too well-lit, and there are people sitting on the opposite side of the stadium who you can predict will be able to tell what’s going on if you did anything physically suspicious. So you’re stuck, stuck here listening to Jungkook whisper his plans for tonight into your ear, trying to smile to make it seem like you’re just discussing sweet, innocent things. Not the way his big cock was gonna slide through your wetness. Nope.

“And I’m gonna flip you over and then--”

“Y/N!”

Jungkook is cut off and the both of you dart your heads up in the direction of the sound of your name. Jimin, from a few stands down, waves up at you, smiling and gesturing for you to come down, since his skates wouldn’t let him climb up easily. You stand, setting your cup down and Jungkook follows you down and you three meet at the base of the stand steps. You can distinctly feel the burn of the gymnasts gazes on the side of your face, searing into your skin with glares so fierce that even the ignorant Jimin glances nervously in their direction.

“So,” he says, shaking out his hair and balancing all his equipment on the other shoulder. “How was the game?”

How was the game, really? You had no fucking clue because Jungkook spent most of it explaining how he would do you instead of trying to explain what the hell was going on. You half-ass it.

“Oh, yeah! That was pret-ty cool,” you cluck, smiling awkwardly. But Jimin seems to want you to go on, and so you hesitate before adding, “Jungkook was explaining how things work, you know...with...the puck and your sticks and all.” You smile guiltily, but Jimin buys it, sending you a charming grin.

“Great,” he smiles, running a hand through his hair. “You’re next right? I think I heard the figure skaters have the rink after us.” He glances behind you, giving Jungkook a nod. “’Sup man, nice to see you in these parts.”

Jungkook grins, arms crossed as he leans against the railing. “I’m here to see Y/N’s performance.”

Jimin’s eyebrows shoot up. “Oh really? Didn’t know you two were close.”

You’re facing Jimin but can practically hear the fuckboy smirk in Jungkook’s tone. “Oh, yeah. We’re really close.” You turn to glare at him before whipping back and smiling sweetly at Jimin. “Yeah, I’m after. I think my coach is calling us to prep. Gotta go!”

You run off, waving at them, and see that Jimin turns to hit the showers and Jungkook sits back in the seats you two were sharing earlier. Jimin was probably gonna come back, but Jungkook was clearly intent on spending his time here.

Jogging over, you hear your coach reminding the others about some key points: “don’t be nervous, do it like you practiced, and don’t fucking get hurt.” You all nod and answer back, “Yes coach!” and she nods at you, seeming content. With a reassuring shoulder pat, she says, “Y/N you’re up. Go get your skates laced up while they’re clearing the ice.”

Before you turn to get your stuff, she hesitates frowning at your figure. “Did...did you gain some weight?” She says, gesturing to your thighs. You glance down, not really noticing anything different. “Uh...no,” you frown, pursing your lips.

She tsks disapprovingly. “Make sure you lose a couple more before the big day. Those extra pounds will really slow down your spins.”

You nod and jog over to grab your skates, threading the heavy duty laces through the metal prongs easily like it was muscle memory. You do a few stretches as you watch the zamboni glide over the ice, breathing in and breathing out to make sure you’re relaxed. Once the machine is safely tucked away, you enter on the ice, skating around the entirety of the rink and then situating yourself in the center in your starting pose, bent gracefully like a swan folded into its wings. Apparently, according to your coach.

As soon as the first tinkering notes of the piano begin, you unfurl, arms swinging out with precision and grace, and you immediately enter into the triple lutz and triple toe loop combination, finishing the move with a perfect spin, and then entering into the second triple toe with incredible speed.

You’re feeling good, and in the comfort of feeling good within the routine, you begin acting a little, putting on a graceful smile and a teasing glint in your eye that your coach instructed you to act upon. Your legs match the swells of the music, and everything seems to fade away, little by little, until the grande finale, where you’ve planned to finish the fourth triple toe with a little spin.

Turn, lift, and jump--Oh shit.

The foot you’re supposed to land on bends a little too far outwards, and you stumble, landing on the hard ice with a cry as your tailbone hits the cold surface without any limbs to obstruct your fall. Your ankle throbs as you hit the floor, and immediately, the music shuts off as Irene and Hoseok clamber over to you, your coach frowning from the music control pit and turning to come downstairs.

“Oh shit,” Irene frets, “you fell pretty hard, are you okay?”

Hoseok hovers behind her nodding. “Yeah, right on your tailbone.”

“Y/N!” All three of you look up to see Jungkook jogging up to you, slipping a little on the ice and giving up completely as he kneels next to you. “Are you okay?”

You wince when you try to stand, leaning on Jungkook support. Your ankle gives out under you, and you cry out when your sore butt hits the ice again. “Fuck,” Jungkook mutters, “We gotta get you to the medic.” Looping your arm around his shoulders and another under your knees, he easily lifts you up in his arms and Irene and Hoseok just worriedly watch Jungkook make his way over to the spongey floor and then start jogging towards the doors.

Coach catches up with you both, examining your ankle. “Y/N,” she frowns when you wince at the pressure she puts on your bone. “How does it feel?”

You sob, apologetic tears running down your cheeks. “I-I’m sorry,” you blubber, wiping at your cheeks, “I-I-I promise I won’t get hurt, just--”

“Shut up, Y/N,” Jungkook hisses, “Why are you even sorry? It wasn’t your fault.” He sends coach a withering glare as he outruns her, leaving her behind. On the way out the gym, Jimin catches the both of you, emerging from the locker rooms with a towel draped over his shoulders. His expression immediately falls at the sight of you sobbing in Jungkook’s arms.

“What happened?!” He calls after you, but no one answers him.

“Good news,” the medic explains, taking a look at your chart. “It’s not a sprain or a break. It’s just overused, and will be a little sore for the next few days. The tailbone will definitely bruise, but that’s basically the worst of it.”

He flips through the other parts of your info, frowning. “Y/N...” he mutters, glancing up at you. “Part of the figure skating team?”

You nod, glancing at Jungkook, who’s worriedly sitting by your side. “Yes,” you answer, “Is there something wrong?”

He shakes his head. “That explains your height to weight ratio. Just want to let you know that you don’t need to overexert yourself. You’re close to being underweight and a wrong move can lead to permanent damage. If you’re gonna be following a diet, you need to be strict on getting all your nutrients too.”

He frowns to himself, seeming to hesitate before he says the second part. “However, though, your coach called and asked me about your weight. You...did gain a few pounds since your first weigh-in at the beginning of the training. What is this...6 pounds? Your coach reminded me to tell you to makes sure it’s all muscle because the extra weight can affect your spins.”

He shrugs, rolling his eyes. “I hate telling girls this but we as medics operate within these Olympics for a reason. So, I’m prescribing you a few more vitamins and nutrients to help maintain your status quo, and I’m also banning you from any practice for the next three days. No skating, running, or even walking too much, if you want to step on that ice next week with a good performance. So you--” he points to Jungkook who straightens up, “Go get Y/N a wheelchair when you grab the prescriptions and make sure she gets absolutely no strain on that ankle. You hear me?”

“Thank you,” you tell him, and the old man nods as he walks away mumbling about Too skinny or something like that. Jungkook returns fairly quickly and helps guide you into the chair, pushing you towards the elevators.

You can hear the frown in his voice. “D-did he...are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you mutter, hands gripping the prescription.

“I heard what the medic said,” he says, rolling you into the elevator and pressing the button for the pharmacy. “About your weight.”

You shrug, thumbing at a stray thread on your arm. “It’s fine, it’s not a big deal until it starts affecting my jumps. Coach is just worried.”

He hums in response, wheeling you out to the window of the pharmacy and retreiving your vitamins. When he jogs back to you, he hands you the paper bag and faces you with a small smile. “Hey,” he says softly, kneeling down a bit to your eye level. “Where do you wanna go now?”

You blink up at him, feeling a bit empty and not sure of what else to do. “Can we go someplace quiet?” You whisper, biting your lip. You feel the tears coming soon and you don’t want anyone else to be able to see that part of you. Also you just want a big big hug.

He nods, cupping your cheek and whispering “okay,” as he stands and begins to wheel you towards his dorms. When the cold air of the winter hits the both of you, he removes his jacket and places it on your legging-clad legs.

Thankfully, this time around, all the athletes aren’t home because they’re either training or practicing. So getting up to Jungkook’s room isn’t as difficult as you’d thought, and thankfully he’s wheeling you into his room without running into anyone or any other problems. Immediately, he opens his closet and grabs you another sweater to place on top of your spandex longsleeve, and then cranks up the thermostat as much as he can.

Opening the covers of his bed, he then turns to you, and lifts you easily out of the wheelchair, and gently sets you in the middle of his bed, tucking the sheets around you.

He turns to leave, and you grip his sleeve.

“Where are you going?”

He smiles back at you. “Don’t you want something to eat? I was gonna make you some tea or grab you something from the cafeteria.”

You shake your head, tugging at his shirt. He obliges, slowly sinking into the mattress next to you, and you open the covers for him to come under. He wraps his arms around you, and you rest your head on his shoulder, your own arms wrapping around his small waist underneath the covers. His warmth is addicting, and you slip your cold hands under his shirt to press against the naked skin of his chest. But Jungkook doesn’t complain and just lets you, his lips pressed against your hair and legs tangled in within yours.

He feels the crying before he sees them, the shuddering motion of your shoulders and the wetness against his own arm alerting him that you were crying. From what he remembered, you never cried when you were sad. You only cried when you were close to giving up, so frustrated and helpless.

So he does what he can do, which is just to wrap you up even tighter within his arms, and just presses his lips against your forehead.

You’re sniffling, muffling your cries to make it seem like you’re not as sad as you really are, but Jungkook can tell, by the way your usually confident shoulders are hunched into his torso, and the way you hide your face into his chest instead of happily smiling up at him.

“What’s wrong?” He whispers, stroking your hair back as you wipe your tears away with a droopy sleeve.

You sniffle, rubbing your eyes until they’re dry enough for you to look at him properly. He’s inches away from your face and from here, even through your bleary vision, you can see the concern mottled in his expression and the genuine concern for your well-being. It felt warm. Nice.

You hadn’t felt that way in a while.

“Can you...can you just h-hold me please?” You whimper, and Jungkook nods sweetly, pulling you even closer and winding his arms around your back and securing you in place against his warm body. You can feel the muscle and the lean effort of all his training underneath his shirt, but right now, pressed against him, all you can really focus on is the steady heartbeat that thunders against your cheek, calming you down.

Training for the Olympics, although difficult to admit, was extremely stressful. It was always so physically demanding, but also mentally exhausting. The entire country was relying on you to beat the rival and win a gold this time, and it could make or break your career for the rest of your life. You had so many people on your shoulders. There was mom, who used to stay up nights sewing your costumes because you guys couldn’t afford the ridiculously expensive skating dresses, not until you started winning competition money. Or your coach, who was hard on you not just because you paid her to do it, but also because she cared to make sure you were feeling your best. Or Irene, and Hoseok, your amazing teammates who supported you through this, not distancing themselves from you when you started doing more rigorous training but instead sticking right by your side and encouraging you through it.

And then there was Jungkook.

He...he was so simple.

Physically, even, you felt no pressure. He wanted you, you wanted him. It was easy.

But emotionally, he was there for you. And he demanded nothing in return, and neither did you feel as pressured as you did with others to do so. Instead, that reciprocation came so naturally, whether it meant helping him plan out his finances for when he goes back home, or speaking to his mother who wanted to watch her son snowboard but couldn’t understand the directions to the hotel she was supposed to stay in, so you took the call while Jungkook was training and brought her in. Or even just giving him massages after his workouts to soothe the kink he always ended up getting near his ribs.

You felt at home with him.

Your breathe isn’t shuddering anymore and you’re just resting your eyes in his embrace when your phone buzzes in your pocket. Jungkook flinches at the sudden movement and you detach from him with a “sorry” and sit up to accept the call.

“Hello?”

“Y/N!” It’s your coach’s voice. Your eyes fly open as you yank the device away from your cheek just to make sure that it was real. It was. Her name was scrolling across your screen as she continues talking, “Where the hell are you? I was told that you would be in bed rest for the rest of the day.” 

“Oh, coach,” you say, staring at Jungkook with panic, “I-I’m on my way back.” 

“With who? Jeon Jungkook, that snowboard player?” 

“Y-yeah,” you say, motioning for Jungkook to get the wheelchair. “He helped me back, we’re walking right now.” 

She groans, “I don’t care where you are, but you better check the news right now. Call me back when you’re ready to focus.” She hangs up quickly, and you let your phone fall from your face with shock. 

“Hey,” Jungkook mutters, cradling you close as he helps you into the chair. “What was that?” 

“It was coach,” you whisper back, trembling fingers tapping impatiently at your screen to open your internet and type in the first news engine you can find. You pan over to the sports section and immediately see the blaring headlines with your name and face on it. 

GOSSIP: OLYMPIC FIGURE SKATER ON DATE WITH OLYMPIC SNOWBOARDER JEON JUNGKOOK

“I saw them cuddling together at the ddukkbokki stand near my house the other night,” says spectator A. “They looked pretty close.” 

Dating speculations about olympic competitors Y/N and Jeon Jungkook have been circulating after witnesses saw the two cozying it up at late night hours at a small diner near the olympic village. A reporter from Dispatch News has also released pictures and evidence of their interactions, including their public date last week, and more individual sightings with Y/N wearing Jungkook’s olympic hoodie and Jungkook hanging around the ice rink a lot more often. 

Both accusations have been bringing lots of criticism to both athletes, for the Olympics are but a week away from today. Many believe that the athletes should have been using the time at the Olympic village training and preparing for their competitions, and have been critiquing Y/N and Jungkook’s choices to be letting go of their focus and instead focusing on each other. 

Both sides have yet to respond to the rumors. 

Comments: 

[+452, -89] Isn’t Y/N the one who lost to Jennie last year? Didn’t she promise that she would “work hard” to win the gold? 

[+232, -102] i don’t blame her, jeon jungkook is so hot 

[+34, -98] I heard that the Olympic Village is just an orgy of all the athletes. It would be naive for us to think our athletes were all innocent and didn’t participate

[+89, -22] honestly they’re all just enjoying their lives and their twenties why are we criticizing them so much? 

- yydnr replied: [+231, -43] well do you get paid millions of won a year to date around? 

[+94, -14] ugh we dont even know for sure chill everyone

Your fingers tremble as you let the device fall from your hands. Jungkook is on the phone with his coach too, and you stare up at him with teary eyes as the look of realization dawns on his face and he briskly walks over to you and yanks the phone out of your hands to see the screen. He scrolls for a bit and he breathes out heavily through his nose, rubbing his eyes as he hands the phone back to you and tilts his head back. 

“Fuck,” he mutters, “coach, coach, I’ll handle it, okay, no. Yeah, she’s here. Yeah. Okay,” he says, sighing and plopping down next to you on the bed. “Okay, I’ll call you back.” 

He hangs up the phone, letting it drop, but you can still see the screen lighting up with notifications and missed calls and texts, but he must have set it on do not disturb. He sees the way you tear up and he tries to lean in to hug you, but you lean away and push him away, tears streaming down your face. 

“Y/N?” 

He sounds so hurt. 

But you turn and let your legs swing over the other side of the bed. You grab your phone, dialing Irene’s number. 

“Y/N?” She sounds worried, “Where are you, are you okay?” 

“Jungkook’s dorm...can you come get me please,” you whisper, and she hears the tears in your voice and immediately agrees to come get you. 

“I-” you stutter, wiping away your tears and breathing in a deep shuddering breath, “I can’t d-do this, Jungkook,” you say, turning over your shoulder to look at him. He looks terrified, but he doesn’t move and continues to listen to you. 

“There’s just too much at stake here,” you sniffle, shaking your head slowly. He mirrors you, shaking his head, “Y/N, no no no, what--” 

“We can’t!” You exclaim, your voice breaking as you throw your hands up and sobs break out again. “We seriously can’t do this anymore, didn’t you see those comments on that article?” 

“Y/N,” Jungkook argues, “Those comments don’t matter! It all doesn’t matter!” 

“No but it does Jungkook! Those comments are right. Your life may not depend on this but mine does okay?” 

“What are you even talking about?” he frowns, getting increasingly frustrated. 

You turn to sit facing him and explain. “Look, Jungkook, you have a lot of brand deals and companies supporting you. If they figure out that you’re dating or anything of the sorts, especially during the Olympics, it’ll tarnish your image and all those brands will pull out. Then where will you get your income for the rest of the year that’s not the winter? Are you gonna go back to working at restaurants again? Is that what you want?” You urge, and Jungkook hardens at the mention of the last part. 

You remember the way Jungkook finally decided to become a professional snowboarder. The thing with boarding was that other than the winter seasons, where he could probably compete, film promotionals, and model for winter clothing, there was no source of income unless brands were partnering with him to promote their athletic lines during off seasons. But here, image was everything, so if the public got even the slightest bit turned against Jungkook, then all those brands would pull out and he would have to resort to waiting tables, just like he’d done in high school, when his parents wouldn’t support his dreams and he had to support himself to attend the same camps that you and the other athletes did. 

He’d worked so hard, and the times where he had to humble himself to resort to waiting tables whilst training incredibly hard for the Olympics, was such a hard time in his life, a time that you only knew about because you were hooking up with him during the athlete boot camp. 

“And,” you continue, tears welling up again, “Jungkook, you know where I come from. I...I don’t have that leisure, to just give it all up. I don’t have brand deals like Jennie does, and I barely get commercials and competition prizes that at least cover the minimum expenses for my training, my skates, and my coach. I...I can’t do that to my mom. Even if this is the thing that I wanted the most,” you watch the way he perks up with a sinking heart, “Even if, I can’t do that to her. Not when you and I both know how hard she worked by herself to help me get to where I am now. I can’t.” 

The moment you finish, two rapid knocks sound on the door and you and Jungkook look up warily to the sight of Seokjin and Irene standing there with apologetic expressions. 

“You ready?” Irene whispers, and you nod, and she comes helps you get on the wheelchair. Jungkook just watches you and his hands reach out a bit when you stumble while getting up from the bed, but he lets you go. 

You take one last look as Irene wheels you out of the room with Seokjin holding the door. Jungkook is sitting on his bed, hands clasped around his buzzing phone, watching you leave with red-rimmed eyes. 

And you bury your face in your hands as you let the sobs rack your shoulders. 

“One, two, three, four, turn, spin, and up!” 

Your coach claps the right beats as you match her voice with your steps and perform the routine in your shoes. 

It’s been a week since the ordeal happened, and like any other gossip mill, the scandal had faded out and gotten lost within another celebrity dating rumor that thankfully seemed to bury yours. For now. 

In that week, you’d taken two days to heal completely, and then went back on the ice and trained literally 24/7. You couldn’t sleep properly either, so most of that time you spent either on the ice or stretching, or doing cardio. Your diet was stricter than ever, and according to this morning’s weight check, you were now 11.2 pounds lighter, meaning you’d shed the weight that you’d somehow gained so quickly with Jungkook and had lost extra weight on top of that. 

Your turns were now tip-top shape, and your coach had stopped giving you those disapproving looks anymore and was now fully invested into making sure your routine would 100% perfect by the time it was your tournament. 

Today was Tuesday, so you still had two days left until yours. Your performance was scheduled as second to last of the night, on Thursday, and so you had two full days to train and practice more before the final day. 

You’re doing the stair master in the gym when Irene comes up to you and takes the machine aside yours. 

“How are you feeling?” She murmurs, probably talking about the way you’d missed out on too much sleep the past few days. 

“Fine,” you mutter, staring down at the screen of the machine. You’d been climbing for almost an hour and it was only at 300 calories. Literally the amount you’d drank in your protein shake for breakfast. You wipe some sweat off your brow. 

“Are you sure?” she says, and reaches over to hold your hand. 

“Yeah,” you say, turning to her with a sad smile. “Thanks. I’ll be okay even if i’m not okay.” 

She bites her lip and furrows her brow. You told her the night she took you home, and she’d let you sleep in her bed as you cried yourself to sleep. She’d also taken the liberty to monitor the state of the article in your place, and make sure to delete all social media apps off your phone so you could focus. 

It was why she was your best friend. 

But no matter how much she helped you, how nice your coach was being and the encouragements your mom showered over you through your facetime sessions, it was impossible to fill that void that kept eating at your chest. 

Going to sleep at night was so hard when the rooms were still cold with the heater turned on high, you missed the way Jungkook would curl himself against you, bundling you against his body and his warmth. Wearing your clothes just felt wrong because you missed the way his old clothes would just swallow you whole and make you feel safe and small. You even missed how you always had someone to call or text when you were bored or lonely or needed someone to talk to without having them make you feel like being an athlete was your entire life. No matter how many protein shakes you drank and calories you burned, the satisfactory feeling of just sharing a warm meal and drink with Jungkook was all you wanted to do right now to relieve the stress. 

Irene’s hesitant voice shakes you out of your thoughts. “I’m asking because,” she begins, biting her lip and thinking hard.

“Because what?” You raise your brows, staring at her expectantly. Irene was usually a blunt person, and didn’t usually hesitate this much. “What’s wrong?” 

“...because today’s his turn. For the games.” she whispers, wincing as she watches your expression go through a transition from realization, surprise, guilt, devastation, and nonchalance. 

“Oh,” you turn back to your screen, not really feeling anything good when the 399 ticks to the 400 calorie mark. “Well, good luck to him.” 

Irene stops her machine, smiling sadly at you. “It’s tonight at 6 if you want to watch with Hoseok and me. We’re watching for Seokjin, and...well you should be there too.” 

You smile back at her, thanking her for caring, and turn back and raise the speed of the stairmaster. You couldn’t show up. There were going to be a thousand reporters and there was no way that your presence at his tournament would ever bode well, for you, for the tabloids, your mom, your coach, your career, anything and everything. 

But as you step off the stairmaster with wobbly legs and a sweaty brow, your eyes linger on the televisions that hang over the running machines, automatically set to the games channel, where you can already see a couple other snowboarders having their interviews. 

Taking a swig of your water, you sit yourself on the other side of the gym on one of the hip abduction machines, staring at the tv’s while pretending to do some 40 pound leg openers. You’re squinting a bit through the pain as you stare at the screen, hoping to catch the schedule of when Jungkook’s team was ready, but then Irene shows up again. 

“What the heck, why are you suddenly doing hip abductions Y/N?” She frowns, curling her lip at the heavy lifting machine. “We don’t do that.” 

You don’t answer her, and she follows your line of sight to the televisions. “Oh,” she mutters, smiling down at you sadly. “Ugh, Y/n,” she grabs your arm to catch your attention. You stare up at her, removing your earphones. “Irene! What’s up?” 

She points blatantly at the tv. “I know you’re just doing these weights because you wanna watch the games without being obvious. C’mon, how long have I known you now? 10, 11 years? You think I won’t know that you want to go watch? Just go.” 

“I can’t,” you hiss, pushing her back and leading her into somewhere less crowded. “You saw those comments on the tabloid. If anyone sees me or anyone who looks like me near the slopes, they’ll attack me, and even worse, Jungkook.”

“Aw,” she pats your arm, “You’re worried about him.” 

You frown, swatting her hand away. “No, I’m not. I’m only worried about it because if I can’t appeal to the public then no matter what I win, those deals and cf’s that are supposed to make me money won’t come in.” 

She nudges you with a knowing smile. “Whatever you say, y/n. Cause I definitely think you’re worried and I am 100% sure that you are totally, and completely in love with him.” 

You stare at her in shock. “Love?” 

“Yes,” she mutters, rolling her eyes. “I know you’re the ice princess and there has yet to be anyone to melt your cold cold heart, but you need to let go and just let him love you, okay? And you need to acknowledge that you have feelings for this guy. It’s been way too long since I’ve ever seen you feel like this towards anyone. So just go for it.” 

“But I can’t!” you throw your hands in the air, collapsing into an empty stationary bike. “Irene, you know that if I go there, they’ll rip us apart like hyenas.” 

She thinks a bit, furrowing her pretty face. 

“Do you have anything to wear that’ll cover you up, but Jungkook will recognize?”

“This better work,” you mutter, shoving your way through the crowd, and burrowing your face into the neck of the yellow ski jacket that Jungkook gave you that one time he invited you to watch him train. It engulfed your figure whole, and so you wore a turtleneck and a hoodie underneath, tucking the fabric up over your chin to cover your features and wearing the bulkiest pair of pants to cover your legs. You’d gone back to the shop and borrowed the same pair of snow boots to wear as you trekked out to where Jungkook would be competing. 

Thankfully, because of the weather, others were dressed similarly, decked from head to toe in protective winter gear, even with masks over the lower half of their faces. But the only thing that made you stand out was the obnoxiously bright color of your jacket. Hopefully, though, the blatant obviousness would be exactly the reason why people would avoid you, and Jungkook, would see you today. 

You hustle within the crowd, trying to jostle your way into a better view of the slopes. Jungkook is currently at the top of the slope, adjusting his goggles and high fiving his teammates as he gets ready for the run of the day. The announcer’s voices filter through your earphones, and you listen as they introduce the athlete statistics. 

“Alright, Minhyuk-ssi, so we have athlete Jeon Jungkook with us here today, the second to last competitor of the night. Imagine what it’s like, to be standing there on the top of the slope for the second time in your life, aiming to get your second gold!” 

“Yes, Seungkwan-ssi, it looks really promising today,” Minhyuk nods on the screen of your iphone. “Jeon Jungkook, 22, representing the Republic of Korea and competing for the second time! The last winter Olympics, he stole the gold medal title as the youngest athlete to ever win the Men’s gold, and today he’s back to establish yet another milestone as the youngest ever athlete to win two back to back gold medals!” 

Seungkwan leans forward, and the screen pans to the sight that you’re seeing with your bare eyes, Jungkook on the top of the slope. “Alright, he’s currently getting himself ready. Lot of pressure, lot of anxiety probably. And there he goes.” 

You can see from down the slope the familiar image of Jungkook’s figure speeding recklessly down the steep slope with his left foot placed directly behind his right, not braking at all as he speeds incredibly fast towards the first two peaks. 

Minhyuk comments quickly, “Okay, there he goes, up and over the hitching post, and easily over to the tail slide of the box there.” 

Jungkook easily slides over the boxes, the bottom of his board scraping loudly and slamming with an echoing smack when he lands on the leveled ice. The people around you cheer politely, and you narrow your eyes at the sight and focus on the commentary of the announcers. 

“And he nails the triple rotation 720, easily,” Seungkwan comments, as Jungkook sails through the air. 

Minhyuk finishes off the rest of his commentary as Jungkook goes through some routine simple flips and tricks. “Now, Seungkwan-ssi, this last one, the triple cork 1440 with three head dips, it’s a difficult one. Jungkook tends to over-rotate his upper body when he’s nervous, but let’s hope he executes this one well. There he goes!” 

With the escalation of the announcer’s voice, the entire crowd silences in anticipation as Jungkook speeds incredibly fast towards the last huge hill, and as soon as his board leaves the ramp, he rotates his body, and flips once, twice, three times, and four! His board lands with a thwack against the snow and he raises his arms in a cheer that’s drowned out by the way the crowd explodes in cheers and shouts of his name. 

You shove the phone into your pocket, now trying your hardest to see what’s going on in the midst of all the fanfare and chants, but everyone begins crowding and shoving and jumping all at the same time that you’re drowned out and you can’t see a thing. But one thing that you can see is the score board located at the top of the hill, and everyone silences again as the announcers begin collecting points. 

“For athlete Jeon Jungkook,” the voice booms, “88.02!” 

The crowd erupts in cheers and immediately the screens change to the image of Jungkook hugging his coach and his teammates, smiling triumphantly and throwing his beanie and goggles off to raise a high fist in the air with a brilliant cheer. You weasle your way in between bodies, trying your hardest to fit your body through the crevices made between people hugging each other and cheering for Jungkook, eventually making your way to the edge of the crowd, against the fences. 

You don’t say much, because you’re sure that if you do, you’ll just call more attention to yourself. But you wait, patiently, shoulders bustling against the pressure of the people behind you trying to get a look, and bracing your gloves fingers against the cold metal of the fence, rooting your spot in the front. 

Slowly, Jungkook turns away from his friends and teammates, politely twisting around and surveying and waving to the crowd of supporters who have come to cheer for him. His crinkled eyes, pushed up by his huge smile, sweeps over the crowd, but they settle in your direction as his smile wavers and his arms raised high over his head pause a little in their waving. His eyes lock. 

You wave back. 

Decked in the whole getup, sunglasses that cover your forehead to your nose, a mask pulled over your nose and your lips, a turtleneck that covers your chin down, and the yellow hood pulled tight over your hair, there’s no way that anyone here except Jungkook would know. 

You hope he sees. 

But he resumes his waving, only faltering a milisecond before he just keeps going as if he’d never seen you at all. You slump, hand falling down as you give up resisting the excitedness of the crowd. They push you back furhter, and you let it take you to the outskirts, almost as if riding a current, until someone’s elbow sweeps over your head and knocks off your hood and your sunglasses. 

The said perpetrator turns in his heels, an old man who was probably cheering for Jungkook, about to apologize, when he sees your face as you stand up straight from picking up the sunglasses. His eyes furrow and then round as the recognition crosses his face. “A-aren’t you--??!” 

Before he knows it, you sprint back towards the directions of your dorms, and you don’t look back.

“Oh my god, how was it?!” Irene screeches when you stumble back into the dorm, shaking off the snow from your jacket and leaving on a rack to dry. She stands and helps you take off the chunky boots. “Did anyone see you?” 

You rub your eyes. “Just one guy. But I ran away before he could even finish his sentence.” 

She pats your back comfortingly. “He did well. For those of us who were watching the live stream, there was no sight of you, so thank goodness the cameras were just focused on Jungkook. You’ll be okay.” She guides you over the couch of your shared room, where Hoseok and a couple other teammates are watching in support of their childhood friend. “He’s doing his press conference,” she explains, “The athlete after him lost by a couple points. He got the gold medal.” 

Your heart warms and blooms in five thousand different directions as the burden and anxiety on your shoulders falls, and you settle into the cozy cushions of the couch with a cup of hot tea that Hoseok hands you. Jungkook’s face is plastered on the huge HD tv, smiling as the reporters around him crowd to get a good shot of the new record-setting olympian. After his pictures, Jungkook is lead to a panel table where reporters begin asking him questions. 

“First of all, Jungkook, we all want to congratulate you on your win.” The room erupts with claps and cheers. The reporter goes on. “How do you feel being the first and youngest olympian to win a back-to-back gold medal for the men’s snowboarding division?” 

Jungkook’s face fills the screen, his dimples deep as his grins widely. “It’s so awesome, I’m so honored to be here right now and I’m so thankful for all my support and teammates for helping me to get to this place tonight.” He lifts the heavy metal around his neck and flashes it for all the cameras to see, smiling and grinning as the cameras begin flicking and flashing wildly. 

“How hard was the training?” Someone shouts from the reporters. 

“Not too bad, actually. Because this time around I knew what to expect both in terms of the physical and mental challenge of being in the Olympics, it was much easier this time around.” 

“How about the next winter olympics?” 

“I’m going to see how I do, but even winning one gold was way past my biggest and wildest dreams that I can’t really imagine how much farther I want to go. I have a feeling though for the next year or so, I’m going to take some time off to finally enjoy snowboarding as a hobby again, instead of my profession. It’s what keeps the creativity coming.” 

“And about your scandal with y/n?!” 

The cameras begin zooming in wildly as the channel tries to avoid panning toward the frantic gossip news reporter who’d somehow managed to make it into the questioning room. Jungkook’s expression twitches, the grin always staying proud on his face, but you can tell that he’s caught off guard. The room you’re sitting in goes quiet as Irene leans forward to listen to how Jungkook responds.

“This year,” Jungkook begins, clearing his throat, “was a year that harbored a lot of surprises and achievements that I’d never even dreamed of. I’m just really thankful for all the support that I got, whether it was from my teammates, fellow Olympians, or even close friends. I’m thankful for y/n, my team, my fans, and everyone I met during the games here, and I hope the best for all of them in the next coming games. Next question please.” He smiles as the camera gracefully pans to another sports news reporter who asks him how he felt about his teammates. 

The room deflates in relief, and you’re sitting there, eyes glued to the screen that zooms into Jungkook’s flawless face, and you swallow thickly. 

“Damn,” Hoseok breathes out, blinking between you and the screen, “Well that was uncalled for.” 

Irene nods. “He answered well though. Guess that’s what being in the spotlight does for you. He didn’t affirm nor deny and just glossed past it. That was pretty smooth.” 

You bite the rim of your cup. 

Hoseok shakes his head though. “He didn’t deny it though, won’t that just cause more drama?” 

Irene shrugs, turning to you. The others have shuffled out of the room, leaving you and your teammates to speak privately. “So, what are you guys? Since you broke up with him, are you guys just strangers? Friends?” 

You shrug, half-mindedly stirring the tea. “I...I don’t know. We never were dating, anyways. So I don’t know what that means.”

“Y/N went to go see him though,” Hoseok comments. He turns to you, narrowing his eyes. “Did he see you?” 

You shrug again, blinking at the yellow jacket that’s hung up on the coat rack to dry. “I’m really not sure. Even if he did see me, I’m not even sure if he recognized the jacket in the first place. I...I just don’t know.” 

Irene pats your shoulder. “Don’t worry about it for now,” She says lowly, “The competition is the day after tomorrow, so you should get some rest.” 

You nod and turn in for the night, crawling into your covers as Irene and Hoseok make their way to the rink to get in some more training. You curl into your sheets, staring at the empty screen of your phone, scrolling through day-old notifications, hoping that the familiar ding would sound and Jungkook’s name would light up. 

But it doesn’t. 

You’re positive he’d made eye contact with you, but in the craze of his win, did he even have the time to register that it was you? Sure, he’d even said so himself that the yellow jacket was one of his favorites, and there was no way anyone could miss the bright colors, but was it really enough for him to notice you within the crowd of onlookers? You’d been so nasty to him, “breaking up” as Irene called it with him in the worst way possible, and for you to show up suddenly in the jacket he’d left behind, you’d doubt the possibility if it were you. 

Too many questions plague your mind that night. You don’t sleep well. 

D-1

“One two three four, jump! Good, and don’t over rotate--!” Your coach’s voice rings over the ice, as you huff out and land perfectly on the blade of your skate, turning gracefully as you pirouette into the next part of the routine. 

She’d insisted on you getting used to wearing the full outfit, so you were decked out in the beautiful sky-blue dress, the chiffon material skirting and flowing around your thighs, and the polished whites of your skates stiff against your ankles. Your hair was slicked back into a tight bun, and makeup was done by Irene as you skirted through the routine. 

Your ankle doesn’t hurt much anymore, just a slight twinge. It only bothers you when you land wrong on the triple toe loop, but you were just going to have to be more careful about that or else coach would take you out immediately and stop you from competing. Better to bow out earlier than to tumble and fall on the ice, she’d always said. 

You finish the routine with the signature flourish, and your teammates who were watching on the sidelines clap with loud cheers as you finish and skate over to the sidelines where coach nods approvingly. In the corner of your eye, you can see Jimin and Seokjin sitting on the bleachers, grinning widely and throwing thumbs up at you from where they are and you flash a big smile and wave at them to thank them for coming. Irene gets on the ice next, ready to go through her own routine. 

Coach walks up to you with a neutral expression. 

“How are you feeling?” 

You look up from your skates and lean back on the bleachers. “I’m okay,” You say thoughtfully, “I just need some good rest tonight.” You lean down to tighten your laces.

She nods, crossing her arms. “Are you sure? I didn’t just mean physically.” 

Your fingers freeze, and you look up to meet eyes with her. She sighs, uncrossing her arms and taking a seat next to you. “I know I’ve been hard on you,” she mutters, “But it’s because we all see the potential in you. You can do whatever the heck you want after the games, but during, you need to stay focused on what you’re really really passionate about.” 

You take a look at her. “Coach...thanks. For everything.” Coach was a great great woman, she was kind, and driven. But you know that a particular reason why she’s been so hard on you is because she knows what it feels like to lose focus during a competition and reap the consequences. The last olympics she ever did was the same one where her rival had won a world record, and feeling nervous for her own score, had tried to add a bit more flourish to her practiced routine and tumbled on the ice because of it. She’d twisted her ankle during the fall and had thus ended her professional career on the ice that she’d once loved and thought she’d be on forever. 

She nods, and then stands, brushing off her pants. “Um,” she says awkwardly, “There’s someone here to see you... Might help you put a lot of your thoughts to rest before the games.” 

You frown as she walks away, and then Jungkook rounds the corner. 

Your jaw falls open as your fingers still on the laces of your skates. He hesitates as he sees your expression, but nonetheless kneels in front of you and grasps the laces from your fingers and begins tightening them like he did with your snow boots. 

“What...what are you doing here?” You whisper, glancing around to see if there are any reporters around. 

He doesn’t say much, but just finishes tying your skates and then just leans back to look up at you. His dark circles are horrible, mirroring yours. “I asked your coach to let me see you. I wanted to say something before the games started.” 

You frown, staring down at your knees. “I...”

“Wait,” he cuts you off, taking your hand in his and stroking your knuckles with his thumb. “I just came here to say this one thing. I saw you there. During my win. And that made me think a lot. And I’ve come to this conclusion:” he looks up at you, staring at you for a moment before continues. “We’re both really young, and at the peak of our careers. I know what you’re scared of, and I know what’s at stake. We have to prioritize our careers, and our goals. So I understand where you came from, but I also want to prioritize my dreams. And my dream is to be with the one I really care for.” 

Your eyes widen, “Jungkoo--” 

“--And I know your competition is tomorrow, so I wanted to tell you this before you compete: I support you and I’ll do anything you decide. It’s all in your hands, and I trust you. So, go out there, and kill ‘em.” He smiles, squeezing your hand once and fingers reaching out to brush your cheek. He leaves after that, leaving you on the verge of tears. 

In the corner of your eye, coach nods at you, in mutual understanding, and walks away. 

D-day.

“And now we welcome, Y/N, the final competitor of tonight’s female figure skating competition.” 

You slide onto the ice with a smile, keeping your eyes on the ice and making sure it wasn’t too scratched up. You skate around the rink, getting a feel for the entire circle and then slowly centering yourself on the ice. 

Jungkook watches from home, leaning into the television to get a better glimpse of the live stream. The announcer begins his commentary as you skate around and begin to center. 

“We’ve seen Y/N a lot these days, and it’s her second Olympics of her career. What do you think is in store for her today, Hani?” 

“Well, Seungkwan, Y/N is one of the ones I’ve been looking forward to. Last year was a bit of a rocky run, she just barely missed first place to Jennie Kim by a couple of points because of a sharper turn, but she’s been training hard for the last four years to compete today.” 

“Yes. She’s outrageously popular, not just as an athlete, but for actually becoming an ice princess, because of how steely her focus is when she’s on the ice. She absolutely embodies the music and her motions are so in tune with her skating techniques for her age. It’s absolutely breathtaking.” 

“Will she be able to handle today’s competition though? We’ll find out. Jennie Kim in the lead with a 216.73. After Y/N’s short program score of 74.92, she’ll need at least 141.82 to get that gold tonight.” 

The camera zooms in on your figure, crouched low as you flutter your hands around you gracefully as you get into your starting position. The low notes of the piano sounds out, and you begin to spin gracefully, meeting the judge’s eyes with a playful smile. 

“It’ll be this first combination that starts us off, the triple-triple combination, and OH! Yes! She lands it beautifully,” you spread your arms out as you do a beautiful twirl. 

“And then the triple loop?! Wonderful! A little smile after that difficult move,” Hani comments as you grin a bit at how clean the jump was. You twirl and land a couple more simple spins and the usual footwork. 

The music slows down into a swell of strings, signaling the end of the number. Jungkook watches, mesmerized as you glide effortlessly over the ice, just as he’d watched you do during practice. 

“The last hurdle in this performance,” Seungkwan comments, “the triple lutz...?! Yes! Perfect! Oh my god this is one of the greatest performances I have ever seen!” 

The music swells and swells as you finish off with a flourish of your arms. The crowd jumps to their feet and cheers, and Jungkook and his teammates do too, clapping for you. You’re crying, as he watches you on the screen, collapsing to a crouch on the ice as you sob, shoulders racking as you try to collect yourself and wave to the crowd. The small ice skaters come in their cute little uniforms, collecting the roses that have been thrown to you after the performance. 

You clambor off the ice, meeting your coach and your mom in a huge hug, and Hoseok and Irene smiling at you from a bit off. It was everything you’d hoped for, and your body wracked with tears as you sob into the sweater of your mother’s comforting arms. Your ankle buckles under you, giving way to all the pressure and the pain and the burden that was suddenly lifted off your shoulders, your coach yelping and lunging forward to catch you. 

She helps you to the bench, in the kiss and cry area where cameras are loaded and ready to film your reaction to your score. The announcement comes quickly. 

“The scores please for F/N L/N of the Republic of Korea.” 

“She has earned a 150.06, which is a seasons best!” The crowd erupts in cheers and screams and your coach bursts into tears and turns over to hug you. You’re frozen in fear and surprise and shock and it all crashes when you burst into tears, haphazardly waving back at the audience and thanking them for their support. 

The rest of the night is a blur of emotions and pictures and interviews and ceremonies and hugs and kisses. You barely have time to catch your breath and wipe away the makeup smears before the next news or tabloid is shoving their cameras and mics in your face, asking and congratulating you. Your coach and mom stay close, holding your flowers and fan gifts closely, making sure you don’t break down. Most importantly, your coach makes sure you stay in one place, not putting too much strain on your already aching ankle. 

Finally, it’s time for the official press conference, and coach guides you towards the table set up for you. You take the seat, smiling and trying to keep your eyes open at the onslaught of flashing cameras and yelling reporters. 

It begins. “Miss Y/N!” A BBC reporter asks, “How hard did you train to achieve this feat? The performance was amazing!” 

You smile, “Thank you so much. After getting silver four years ago, I really wanted to make sure I was able to achieve my goals this time around. I trained everyday, for a really long time, and made sure I was taking care of my mental and physical health.” 

Another tabloid reporter pops up with a smirk, “Was this also with the help of your friends? Any specific people in mind? Like a fellow medalist perhaps?” 

You see your coach perk up in the corner, her posture becoming stiff as she catches your eye and shakes her head no. You both know where this question is headed. 

You smile. “I had a lot of support from my teammates and my family at that time. My coach and I made sure that I was surrounded with as many loved ones as possible. Thanks to them, and my fans, I was able to power through! My regimen was pretty demanding, such as waking up early and having to train everyday and build up some more strength, but I’m grateful for this medal, and will continue training even harder so I won’t let anyone down.” 

Easily, the conversation shifts to topics regarding your training, but you can clearly see the sly disappointment on the reporter’s face as she sits down with a huff. The press conference continues easily, and your cheeks start to hurt from smiling too much and your fingers grip the mic too hard for it to be comfortable. It ends easily, though, and your coach and friends happily escort you down the stage and into the waiting room. 

It was over. It was finally over. 

Coach lets you go with your mom to a her hotel that night. You lug your suitcase in with you, following in her footsteps. 

She smiles at you as she settles on the bed, patting the seat next to her. You smile as you settle into the soft mattress, sinking into the warm cushion and shrugging off your coat. 

“How are you feeling?” She murmurs, tucking a hair behind your ear. 

You shrug, fingers playing at the strap of your medal. “Not sure. I’ve been waiting for this day for ages, but now that it’s here, I’m not sure what to feel.” 

She smiles, turning you a bit so that she can start taking out the stiff pins in your hair. Your scalp aches from the way it’s been held in its incredibly tight bun these past few days, and you sigh in relief as her gentle fingers begin caressing through the strands and removing all those sharp pins and tight elastics. Her fingers pass through your jawline, and she sighs. 

“You’ve lost even more weight than before you left for the village.” She mutters, her voice tinged with worry.

You chuckle a bit tiredly, “Mom, you know I had to watch my weight. It’s fine. I feel fine.” 

Her fingers hesitate, “You don’t seem fine.” 

You frown. “What do you mean?” 

She finally finishes, running her hands freely through the length of your hair and letting it down. With a gentle hand on your shoulder, she turns you to face her, and her hands come up to frame your cheeks, stroking the skin there. “You’re my daughter, I think I know when you’re fine and when you’re not.” 

A chuckle escapes your lips, and you think it might be a defense mechanism at this point. “What?” 

“I heard, from coach. About the scandal.” 

Your eyes drop to your lap, not being able to meet hers. “M-mom,” you stammer, but her hands gently guide your chin up to look back into her eyes. They glow in the warm golden light in the hotel room. 

“I saw the way you two talked right before your performance,” she urges, a hand lifting to trace over your brow. It brings a twang to your heart, and your eyes begin to water. “I know, sweetie. You’ve worked so hard, and you’ve placed so much burden on your shoulders.” A tear escapes, and she catches it with her thumb. “I could never be any more proud of you, with or without that medal. I’m just proud of the fact that you’ve become a healthy, beautiful, woman. My best friend, my biggest supporter. I love you so much, honey.” She says, a tear escaping her own eye. “I don’t want you to think that you need to choose between me and your happiness. You can have it all. I want you to go for it. I don’t want you regret anything. Or else I’ll regret not being able to tell you to go for it.” 

The tears break, streaming down your cheeks as your shoulders rack and your mouth opens in a wail that you’ve been holding in for the past two weeks. 

“Mom!” you cry, collapsing into her arms, “I love him so much!” 

She just nods and pats your back, smoothing her palm down and in soothing circles as you cry it out. You cry, all the weight from the competition and the performance and the scandal all collapsing on your shoulders with a heaviness that you wash away with your tears. 

She whispers, “I never really talked a lot about your dad, did I?” 

You sniffle, wiping away your tears and staring up at her. “Not much, why?” 

She smiles, tucking your hair behind your ear. “He was really successful, he was a medical student, and set to take over his father’s hospital. But when he met me, he decided he wanted to pursue art, and he was so great at it. His parents were so against his career choice and him marrying me, but he was so happy,” she smiles, “He passed so soon, he wasn’t able to see you come all the way here, but I know that he’s watching. And you know what he would say if he were in your situation right now? He would tell you to go for it, to follow where your heart is leading you.” 

Jungkook’s head shoots up when he hears a loud pounding on his door. Locking his phone shut, he takes out his earbuds and bounds up to open the door. 

His eyes widen, “Y/N--” 

You lunge forward with your arms stretched wide, wrapping around his middle and cuddling him close to yourself. He’s warm, his heart thudding loudly next to your ear and his shirt smelling exactly like him. “Wait, Y/N, what’s wrong?” He says, shutting the door and an arm coming to wrap around your shoulders. 

You just bury your face into his neck, breathing in the familiar scent of his skin that makes your heart race. “I don’t want to leave here regretting that I didn’t get to say this.” you mutter into his neck, clutching the nylon of his athletic jacket between your fingers tightly. “I missed you, I’m so thankful for you, and I want to choose the one I love too.” 

Jungkook’s body stiffens, and you screw your eyes shut. Maybe he was done with your indecisiveness. Maybe he was sick of waiting around for you, or maybe he was disappointed that you’re only saying this after both of you had won your medals. Maybe he thought you were a selfish bitch. His hands finally move from your shoulders to yours on his back, carefully unwrapping your fingers on his jacket. He pulls away, stepping back to look at your face. 

You blink up at him. You’d prepared yourself for this. It wasn’t about him accepting you. It was about his decision, and his feelings. 

But instead of pushing you away, and cursing at you, he squeezes your hands in his and smiles gently. “Are you sure?” He asks softly. “All the stuff you worked so hard for, it might end up being lost.” 

You nod, smiling even though a few tears slip down your cheek. “I’m prepared for that. And honestly if this fame and hard work isn’t strong enough to withstand the reality of my happiness, then I don’t want it. I’ll work hard again anyway and build a reputation that matters. I’m sure of this, Jungkook. I want you.” 

He doesn’t answer and just cradles your face between his hands and draws you in for a hard kiss. You sigh into it, hands wrapping around his wrists and stepping closer to him. But the both of you are smiling too much to be able to kiss properly, and it dissolves into giggles. You throw your arms around his neck and hug him properly again, laughing as he lifts you up and spins you. 

You’d started skating when you were young because you thought those girls on the ice were like princesses in their pretty dresses and beautiful moves. You’d wished that maybe, just maybe, ice skating yourself would grant you a chance to a happily ever after too. 

But you got something way better than a fairytale-princesses ending. 

You got Jungkook. 

#jungkook fics #bts fics #bts smut #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #bts fluff #bts angst #mine #writing #fics #jungkook #snow and ice

[living-dead-parker]

Emo - Stark!reader/Science Squad

Summary: stark!Reader was once an emo and with the return of My Chemical Romance, the science squad finds out in a weird way.

Warnings: emo shit, self-indulgent, maybe cussing, also, I disregard any canon. Literally my own canon so don't question it.

Word Count: 965

A/N: Who would've thought MCR would influence me to get out of my writer's block? Actually, I'm not surprised Imao but I'm so excited even if I'm not going to the show (but I was so close to going and i'm big sad because i'm not). I'm so eme, please come talk to me if you're emo too, please!!

The sound of music playing loudly from somewhere in the compound could be heard from the common room. Admittedly, it was weird, for Peter and friends, when they walked in to the common room to see everyone sitting there quietly. No one saying a single thing. Not a single sound. It's wild. Tony and Pepper sit in silence, burning holes in the ground. Bucky, Sam, Steve, Nat, Wanda, Bruce, Rhodey and Happy. They all just stare at a spot or look around. Even Morgan.

"Uh," Peter hums, looking at everyone. They all look in the direction of the five teens. "What's going on?" he concludes. A heavy sigh fills the room as they all hear the song change followed by a very loud scream. Peter's brows furrow.

"Look, kids," Tony starts, standing up and walking towards the friends and rests a hand on Peter's shoulder. "There's something you gotta know about Y/N," he continues while giving the group a sympathetic smile.

"Is she okay?" Ned and Shuri ask at the same time. Tony nods, moving to sit on the arm of the nearest couch.

"When she was 12," Tony begins. His eyes are fixated on the ground and he crosses his arms over his chest. "Y/N had started going through a phase. Well, not so much a phase as she just learned how to hide it. But, Pep, Rhodey, Happy and I have seen the worst of it. She uh-" Tony pauses, looking like he's getting choked up. "She went through an emo phase!"

Gasps filled the room before Tony bursted into laughter. The five friends gave Tony an odd look, looking at everyone else too. "I'm only sort of messing. There was this band, My Chemical Romance, that she'd been into for years. Way before her emo phase. Well, they broke up in 2013 and Y/N had been devestated. They recently announced a comeback concert, so she bought tickets for her and an old friend of hers. Right now, however, she's freaking out, having the time of her life screaming and singing."

The five friends nodding. A little less concerned. They'd never known this about you. They never knew you were an emo kid. A rocker girl? They knew about that, got it from your dad. But an emo? They wouldn't have guessed it.

"Any second now, the current song will be over and I'm Not Okay will come on. The TV Will turn on at fuIl volume, her bedroom door will slam open, and she'll come out screaming," Pepper says. "Don't act alarmed. Just sit down and ignore her."

The five friends nod, taking a seat anywhere. Peter and Harley squeezed in with Tony and Pepper. MJ, Shuri, and Ned sat with Bucky and Sam. A minute later, the TV came on. Then a guitar began playing at full volume. Then the door slamed open. Footsteps could be heard and the five friends visibly jolted in shock. Black skinny jeans, bracelets up to your elbows, dark eyeliner, and a My Chemical Romance t-shirt.

"Well if you wanted honesty, that's all you had to say!" you sing as you run around the room, going from person to person as you sing a new line. Peter and friends had to hold back a laugh or two. "I'm not okay," you sing to Tony. "I'm not okay," you sing to Ned. "I'm not okay you wear me out!"

That last line was sung to Harley. Then, you end up sliding in your knees and pretend to play air guitar. After that, you kneel in the center, singing without stopping once, "I'm okay, I'm okay. I'm okay now, I'm okay now. But you really need to listen to me, because I'm telling you the truth. I mean this, I'm okay! Trust me, I'm not okay!"

Once the song is over, you're walking away like nothing ever happened and the music goes back to playing in your room. When the door closes again, Peter sits up and looks at everyone. "Well," he begins, not sure how to feel about what just happened. "That was interesting."

"It's almost over but not necessarily," Natasha speaks up. "Another four songs will play, then the final song to play, I'm sure you guys know it, will play and she'll come back out and perform it dramatically. However, her performance we just witnessed got sloppy so, this is probably it for today."

Unsurprisingly enough, that's pretty on brand of you. It makes sense for you to act out and get the limelight. You are your father's daughter. So with that, everyone sits back and awaits the moment you return. Then, when they all tense up, they notice that it's coming. Again, the TV comes back to life. Then a piano begins, a single G note at first. The door slams open and footsteps.

"When I was," you start. This time, you're wearing a black jacket with some white strap designs on it. "A young boy," you continue. "My father took me into the city, to see a marching band."

Of course they knew at least this song. You dramatically scream the lyrics, actual tears falling from your eyes. Then as the breakdown hits, you run around, singing to everyone. It's pretty amusing nonetheless. To see a side they'd never seen.

"Do or die, you'll never make me, we'll carry on. Because the world will never take my heart, we'll carry on. Go and try, you'll never break me. We want it all, we wanna play this part. We'll carry on!" you scream, dragging out the last word.

Once the song is over, you collapse on the ground, breathing heavily. "Oh hi, Peter!" you exclaim before greeting the others too. "Important update, I'm emo and My Chemical Romance is back!"

Please send in feedback, requests, and asks please and thank you!!

#stark!reader #stark!daughter #Tony Stark #tony stark x daughter #tony stark x y/n #Peter Parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker #michelle jones #MJ #Ned Leeds #Shuri #mcu shuri #Harley keener #Iron Man #Spider-Man #spiderman #mcu #science squad #mcr #song fic #marvel fic #emo shit #I'm so emo #peter parker x stark!daughter #peter parker x stark!reader #mj x shuri #ned leeds x harley keener

[snickletastic]

A Fake Mustache {Jason Todd x Reader + Dick Grayson}

warnings~ minor sexual assault, creepy older men, cursing, alcohol

summary~ dick and reader must go on an undercover mission to retrieve information for bruce, but come across a few dilemmas along the way

a/n~ hey guys! ive been getting some pretty crappy writers block recently, and i ended up writing two versions of this story, but ultimately decided this was the winner. im not quite sure if this idea had been done before, so im sorry if it bears any accidental similarities to anybody elses work. i really enjoyed writing this one, so i hope you guys like it :)

Jason tugged at the hem of your dress inadvertently, tuned out of the conversation you and Dick were having. The tug made you stop mid-sentence and turn to look at your boyfriend. His hair was scruffy, his jacket collar crooked. He looked like a disheveled 12 year old, despite being the giant he is.

“What’s up?” You questioned him.

“..Huh? Oh, nothing...” Jason muttered before leaning closer into your ear so Dick wouldn’t overhear, “Can we go soon?”

You gently rolled your eyes at his request, “Sure, Jay. Let me finish talking to your brother first.”

Jason groaned, turned, and walked to the nearest seat to wait for you to finish talking. Dick side-eyed his younger brother and continued the conversation, “So this mission will only take one night, but it’ll be a few hours.”

“Tomorrow night?”

“Yup,” Dick nodded, “Iceberg Lounge, 9 p.m.”

“Works for me, I’ll see you then,” You began to walk away.

“Wait!” You turned around, “Wear something nice,” Dick said cheekily, earning a loud scoff from Jason, who didn’t appreciate the comment.

You gave Dick an awkward thumbs up and took Jason’s arm, leaving the manor before Jason got too unruly. While walking out to the car, Jason dragged behind you.

“Will you pick up the pace?” You whined.

Jason stopped in his tracks, “I don’t want you going on this mission with him.”

“Why not? It’s perfectly safe, there won’t be any fighting involved. It’s just an undercover mission,” you shrugged.

He crossed his arms, “I should be the one you go undercover with. Not him.”

“I love you, but you know he’s a bit more charismatic with the bad guys...you just speak with your fists.”

“Yeah well,” Jason awkwardly tramped past you, “It works.” he murmured.

You checked the time on your phone, 8:58. Dick still wasn’t there, and you were standing outside of the lounge in the freezing cold. The music was blasting so loudly that you could feel the vibrations on the sidewalk. The line of shady individuals was beginning to get longer as the peak party hours crept up. A loud engine echoed from blocks away, making you shutter. Loud cars are so obnoxious. It seemingly only got more and more boisterous before you realized it was driving towards the club. A bright red Corvette pulled up along the curb, and the window rolled down revealing non other than Dick himself.

“I thought I told you to wear something nice,” he sneered. You choked at the bluntness of his comment, about to defend your dark purple cocktail dress. “Relax, y/n, I’m just screwing with ya. You look beautiful,” he winked and revved the engine, making the crowd outside of the club stare at both of you.

“You’re drawing too much attention! I thought this was meant to be a low-profile mission,” you complained.

Dick raised an eyebrow, “How isn’t this low-profile?”

You furrowed your eyebrows, “Is this Bruce’s car?”

Dick scratched his head, “....Yeah...um...don’t tell him I borrowed it for the night....please?”

“Only if you stop being so flashy with it,” you crossed your arms.

Dick got out of the car and tossed his keys to the valet. The crowd was still looking at him, and the women were especially captivated by his presence. You cringed at all of the eyes set on you, but Dick bathed in the attention. He wrapped his arm around your waist and led you to the door, giving the bouncer a wad of cash in order to skip the line. When the club doors opened, the music deafened your ears.

Dick continued to steer you through the crowds, shoving through creepy men who stared at you and shimmying past rowdy women who were throwing themselves at him. Finally, the two of you stopped before a red rope and a booth filled with older men in suits smoking cigars. Your mouth gently dropped at the sight, it looked like it belonged in a movie scene. There were two young women squeezed in between the group of men, whispering into their ears despite being more than half their ages. You shivered at the sight and squeezed Dick’s hand unwittingly. He quickly turned his head towards you, scanning your face for danger. You just scrunched your face and mouthed, “sorry.”

A large man interrupted your silent exchange, “Who are you?”

“I am John Booth, this is my, er- partner,” he looked around the area, then motioned a hand towards you, “Beth...Macanudo.”

The bouncer raised his eyebrow and scoffed, “Beth Macanudo?”

You half smiled and bounced upwards on your heels, “That’s me!”

The bouncer looked at the both of you brazenly, seemingly in disbelief that you belonged behind the rope. Before he turned you away, a voice piped up from behind him, “Let them in.” The bouncer didn’t testify, immediately unhooking the rope to allow you in.

You avoided eye contact with the large group of criminals, looking at the floor as you moved into the booth. Dick sat on the outside, unwittingly pushing you close to a creepy old man who was eyeing you up and down while licking his lips. You felt nauseous, but decided to stay quiet to avoid blowing cover. 

Dick scanned the table, then let out an audible groan. You looked up to see no one other than Jason on the other side of the booth- wearing a fake mustache. You immediately covered your face with your hands, shaking your head at the situation you’ve now been put in. He had a blonde woman awkwardly squeezed between him and a crime lord, but he was clearly ignoring her; staring at you. His poker face convinced you to play along with the scheme.

Dick cleared his throat and narrowed his eyes at his brother, clearly angry that he didn’t trust the two of you enough to do the mission alone. It bothered you, too, but you should have expected nothing less from Jason; who once slashed a mans tires and smashed his car windows for catcalling you while you both walked past him. His jealousy could get reckless, but his protective side could borderline loony. Now, he sat with 7 playing cards in one hand and a glass of whiskey in the other, staring the both of you down.

“What are your names?” He stayed in character.

“John Booth,” Dick slyly wrapped his arm around your shoulder, “This is my girlfriend, Beth Macanudo.”

Jason let out a laugh, “Macanudo? Like the cigar?” He lifted the box sitting in front of him, “Which just so happens to be the exact brand we’re smoking? Brilliant.”

Some of the crime lords laughed, some looked suspicious, examining the pair sitting at the end of the booth with ridiculous names. “What are you getting at?” Dick squinted. 

“Oh, nothing,” Jason leaned back into his seat, “Listen, fellas, I know these two. They’re legitimate.” He assured the group, who seemed to mellow out at the verification. 

Dick stiffly took his arm from your shoulder as Jason’s glare become harsher. Was Jason really ridiculous enough to blow the cover? You considered it for a moment, then decided he wouldn’t put you in danger like that. You twiddled your thumbs on the table, trying not to look at Jason, displaying resentment towards him for being such a child. In the middle of your thoughts, you felt a pair of hands clutch yours. “What are you so nervous for sweetheart?” The old man to the right of you licked his chapped lips again.

“Er-um, nothing. Just...tired, is all,” you uncomfortably murmured, trying not to draw attention from the meeting. 

“If you’re tired, we could head back to my room upstairs,” the old man inched closer to you, his breath hitting you face. It smelled like booze and smoke, making you choke up. Jason immediately noticed the man's hand on yours, and you trying to pull away. He felt his temper rising as Dick was oblivious to the interaction next to him, rambling on about drug trades. He shifted uneasily, trying his best not to lose character. 

He tried to catch the attention of Dick with eye contact and small nods towards you, but he clearly wasn’t catching on. That is, until you yanked your hands away from the man so hard that your elbow hit Dick in the arm. 

“What’s going on?” Dick questioned the man grabbing at you. 

Jason bounced his leg, trying to keep himself quiet.

“She just wants a little love, is all!” The creep grinned and reached for your thigh.

You backed further into Dick and pushed the man away.

Jason rubbed his temples watching the scene play out, trying to stay calm.

Dick didn’t want to blow your covers, but he couldn’t sit there as you writhed towards him trying to get away from a pervert. “Don’t touch her,” Dick pushed his arms away from you, “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Who the fuck d’ya think you are? If I wanna fuck your bitch then that’s what I’ll do, understand?”

A gun cocked and the three of you stopped quarreling, turning your heads towards Jason who was now standing up with a pistol aimed at the creep. “One more word and I’ll fucking kill you.”

The criminal gulped, “Don’t be so brash, son. It’s just a whor-”

Jason leaned across the table and pushed his gun towards the mans temple, “Remove your hands. Now.”

The old man let go of you and leaned back into his seat, avoiding the gun.

Jason motioned his head towards the exit for both of you to leave, and he finished speaking to the group before joining you guys.

“That...was...um, eventful,” Dick rubbed his neck awkwardly.

“Did we even get the information we needed? Was that a waste of time?” You questioned the two men.

“Trust me, princess, we got all the information we will need to take those men down.” Jason put his hand on the small of your back as you exited the club, passing the security guard. “We just need to get it back to Bruce.”

Dick nodded, “Alright...I’ll go get the valet to get me the car.”

Jason blinked, “Valet? Dick, there’s no valet here.”

“Yeah there is. I gave him the keys to the Corvette,” Dick assured Jason.

“Trust me, man, I frequent this place for the criminals. There’s no valet.”

“Shit!” Dick shouted exasperatedly, “Bruce is gonna kill me.”

“I didn’t bring a car, I came here on a bus...best not to leave tracks,” Jason scratched his head, “Call an Uber?”

Dick was still agitated at the loss of the hundred-thousand dollar car, but took his phone out and dialed a number, walking to a quieter place to speak.

“So, you didn’t trust us, huh?” You crossed your arms at your boyfriend.

“What? No. I mean, yeah. I trusted you guys; it’s the criminals in there that I don’t trust,” He pointed a thumb towards the club, “I know these assholes too well to let you come here without me.”

You couldn’t argue with him, knowing he meant the best in his own way. “Well, the mustache is a new addition. You grow that overnight?” You chuckled.

Jason brushed his mustache like a villain, “All it takes is some willpower and good genes,” He joked before taking it off, then sticking it on your arm.

“Ugh! Ew!” You peeled it off of your arm and examined it, “How did they fall for this? It looks like a small hamster!”

Jason laughed at your comment before becoming suddenly serious, “Oh...um, by the way,” He leaned closely into your ear, his hot breath making you shiver, “Don’t tell Dick that there actually is a valet here.”

You laughed and slapped his arm before Dick came back, bewildered. “I reported it to the department. Apparently it’s the funniest joke when a cops Corvette gets stolen from right under his nose, as if it doesn’t happen on a daily basis.”

masterlist

#Jason Todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #dick grayson #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson imagine #dc #DC comics #dc comics imagine #dccomics #batman #batman comics #robin #red hood #redhood #redhood x reader #redhood imagine #batfamily #batfamily imagine #BatFam #batfam imagine #iceberg lounge

[skzrequests]

Orange Juice - Seo Changbin

anonymous said : “My pace 24 w changbin? uwu im a sucker for the idea of tattoist bin lmao”

24 ➝ “Is that a tattoo ?”

➵ Pairings : changbin x reader

➵ Warnings : explicit language ; mentions of blood

➵ Genre : tattoo artist!au ; fluff

➵ Word count : 4.3k

➵ Note : me too, anon, me too :’) thank you for requesting this, I’m a sucker for tattooist bin too and for real, I think you just cured my writer’s block, so I can’t thank you enough ! I hope the fic is okay, don’t hesitate to tell me what you think :)

You turned on your heels, looking around for the soy sauce brand you usually bought. Finally finding it, the familiar red and green colours of the label catching your eye, you extended your arm to grab it before you carefully placed it in your cart. Pushing it out of the alley and into the next, you thought about what you had written down on your list of groceries that—of course—you had forgotten on top of the kitchen counter before going out. 

What was missing ? You had eggs, milk, cookies, your favourite yogurt, your weekly stock of noodles, pretty much everything you needed. 

Orange juice ! Of course, how could you forget ? No orange juice in the morning, no functional you. 

Hitting your forehead with your palm at your own forgetfulness, you proceeded to turn around in the middle of the alley to go back to the juice section. 

Stopping in front of the numerous orange juice bottles and packs that the store offered, your eyes once more scanned the section for the one you always took. 

“Here” someone spoke next to you, but what you saw first was a hand extended to you, holding the bottle you had been looking for, with its childlike doodles of an orange in every colour of the rainbow. 

Your eyes widened slightly, brows arching in surprise and thankfulness at the action of—judging by the voice—the man who had somehow found what you’d been looking for. 

You looked up, surprised and wondering who it could be, although you did not expect it to be someone you knew. 

You were wrong. 

You almost didn’t recognise him. Not that his features had changed, he still had that same sharp jaw but soft curves on his face, but he gave off a totally different aura, to the point you weren’t even sure it was him anyway, no matter how much his face and soft smile left no place for doubt. 

He was wearing a black leather jacket over a white t-shirt that he’d paired with black distressed jeans and monochrome black Converse. Something you’d never imagined seeing him wearing. But some things never change, and the black ringed cap pushed so far down that it almost completely covered his eyes—it made you wonder how he could see anything—convinced you of the man’s identity. 

“Changbin ?!” you almost screamed in disbelief in the middle of the juice section, earning a few glares from the moms around, trying to shop peacefully, and some curious stares from their kids. You didn’t even notice though. 

He broke into a smile, cocking his head in the direction of his still extended arm holding the bottle of juice. 

“Your favourite, right ?” he asked and smirked when your mouth fell slightly open. 

Anticipating your question, he didn’t give you the time to open your mouth again as he explained : “You drank it all the time, back in high school” he said and you felt heat slowly rise to your cheeks, “Can’t remember a day when you didn’t have a bottle in your backpack” he laughed lightly. 

You didn’t know what to focus on : how he remembered your favourite brand of orange juice from high school, how much he had changed, how insanely good he looked ? It was way too much at once for your brain to process. 

“I- uh” you stuttered, not knowing what to say or where to begin. If your internal alarms could stop blaring in your head, it would be nice. “What are you doing here ?” you finally managed to get out but immediately mentally facepalmed yourself. He’s chasing a tiger, obviously. Come on, this is the grocery store, what could he possibly be doing here, y/n ? you scolded yourself.

He chuckled again, the sound ringing in your ears and bringing you back to reality. 

“Well, I guess I, too, need to eat sometimes” he joked and you forced a small laugh out of your throat. Nice job, y/n. 

You then just stood there and stared at him, mind completely blank, as if your internal program had stopped working and the computer needed a reboot. 

“So ?” Changbin inquired, making you widen your eyes at him again, brows arching, not understanding. “Are you gonna take it or not ?” He finished his sentence as he extended his arm even further. 

“Oh, yeah, sorry” was all you could manage to get out as you finally took the orange juice from him, your fingers brushing over his hand in the process. 

“It’s okay,” he laughed again, “I didn’t think you’d be that shocked to see me, though” he smirked once more. 

You rolled your eyes as you put the bottle down in your cart, next to the soy sauce. 

“It’s been years, Changbin, did you expect me to just go and have our super special handshake like that ?” you asked sarcastically. 

“We had a handshake ?” he asked, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. 

You looked at him with an annoyed expression. “No, we didn’t, idiot” you said and he just let out a small “phew”, resting his now free hand on his chest as if he had been worried about it. You and him were barely friends in high school, it was more like you had common friends so you were aware of each other’s existence. You’d only talked to him for school projects, seeing he was a rather quiet kid, unlike you.

“Oh thank god, I thought I'd forgotten it” he said. Oh, so he really was worried about it then. 

You shook your head in disbelief. 

“Anyway,” he said as he clasped his hands together, signalling a subject change, “how’s life going ?” he asked and you scoffed. 

“I should be asking you that,” you said, “it was you who had no idea what you wanted to do”. 

He shrugged. “I guess I found it now” he smiled. “But what about you ?” he asked again.

“Me ? I’m good, I guess,” you started, your face felt hotter than before and you were starting to wonder if it were going to explode at some point if it kept going, so you took off your scarf and turned around to put it in your cart with your groceries while you spoke : “I mean nothing really exciting but I have a job at least” you said, back facing him.

“Hold on,” Changbin stopped you and you whipped around, worried by the tone of his voice, “is that a tattoo ?” he asked as he took a step closer, pointing his finger to the back of your neck where the black curves of music notes peeked out of your shirt. 

“Oh that ?” you asked back as he came closer and you turned again to let him see it, tugging your shirt down a little, “yeah it’s a tattoo, why ?” You asked again. 

He looked at it for a few seconds without speaking before he stepped back, allowing you to face him again. 

“I’m a tattoo artist now” he explained and your eyes grew bigger than they ever had in your life. 

“No fucking way ?” You shouted, “That’s freaking awesome !” you exclaimed again and he smiled, fake dusting off his jacket as you laughed and pushed him lightly. 

He laughed and spoke up again : “No, but for real, are you that surprised ?”.

You stopped and looked him in the eye. 

“Not really. You were always really good at drawing, but I didn’t think you’d have the guts to do it, with the whole marking other people’s skin permanently, you know ?” you told him, “thought the responsibility might have been too much, but I guess I was wrong” you smiled. 

You came to realisation that his whole body was covered by his clothes, but surely there was more to see under it all. 

“Show me !” You exclaimed as your hands flew to his jacket and you tried to take it off him, “Show me the art !” 

He brought his arms closer to his torso, trying to protect himself from your hands that were actually tickling him. 

“Y/n !” he called between giggles, “If you want to see me without my clothes that much, you could wait until we’re somewhere a bit more private” he said with yet another smirk. 

You instantly retracted your hands, only extending the right one again to hit his shoulder, earning a wince from him. 

“Seriously,” he said, “let’s go pay for all that and get out of here” he told you, walking behind you to push your cart towards the check out. 

“Oh wow, didn’t it hurt like a bitch ?” you asked as he showed you the intricate designs inked on his elbows, and you grimaced at the thought of the pain. 

He grimaced too, as if remembering it perfectly, “Yup, thought I'd never use my arms again and that my bones had gotten pierced by the needle, but here I am” he answered as he sat back down, facing you again. 

You nodded while still grimacing, imagining if you did it yourself. Elbows were one of the spots you never wanted to get tattooed for that very reason. 

“Wow, I can’t believe you changed that much in just a few years” you confessed honestly, not looking him in the eye as you shook your head down. 

“Hey, you changed a lot too,” he shot back, “and I never thought you’d ever get a tattoo but here you are” he said, gesturing his hand over at you. 

“I have more than one, you know ?” you said, smiling lightly. 

His eyes widened. “What ? More tha- and you didn’t tell me ?” he exclaimed and you laughed out loud, shushing him in the middle of the café—although you were just as noisy as him. 

“Yeah, I have one on my thigh and one on my ribs” you said, smiling proudly. 

“And you were saying elbows must have hurt when you got a tattoo on your ribs” he shook his head. 

“Right” you said, “I must have been crazy to do it”. 

“I’d love to see it” he smirked and you chuckled. 

“Maybe I'll show you one day, who knows ?” you grinned. 

“Oh, I’m sure I'll see it soon” he said and grinned back at you cockily as you blushed furiously and tried not to let it show, biting your inner cheek. 

“A-Anyway,” you said, trying to seem unfazed, “I’d love to get a new one. What do you say ?” you asked, a little expectant. You had seen some of the things he had tattooed on himself, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t love his style. It was just... so much like him. It was beautiful, mesmerising even, how he turned every simple thing into a piece of art. 

Changbin’s eyes lit up and he cracked another smile at you. 

“You’d want a tattoo from me ?” he asked, sounding genuinely surprised, but mostly flattered, coming from you.

You rolled your eyes. “Obviously, duh ? It’s amazing, and besides, you’re an old friend, so that’d mean something else too, right ?” you told him. 

“What you got in mind ?” he asked. 

You shrugged. “Surprise me”.

After that unexpected encounter with him in the supermarket, and after you’d gone to a café and talked for hours, you were now headed to the tattoo parlour Changbin worked at, a week and a half later, ready to get that new tattoo you wanted so much. 

At this point, you were pretty much convinced of two things : one, this tattoo would definitely be your favourite out of all the ones you’d be getting ; and two, you were undeniably crushing on Changbin. 

You felt annoyed about it, because you felt like a living cliché walking around, falling for a guy you’d never talked to that much in high school after miraculously meeting him years later, after puberty had finally done its job (right). But you brushed it off, maybe it wasn’t the right time for you to get into a relationship yet, and nothing told you he was interested in you anyway. You’d probably been staying awake at night for the past days for nothing.

Still, you wanted that tattoo, and you liked Changbin’s company, so at least, you wanted to become friends with him. Who knew ? Maybe one day, he’d even offer you a free tattoo. 

Picking up your pace a little to escape the cold, you walked up to the front door of the shop and pushed it open, making your way inside. You sighed in relief when you felt the warmth on your cheeks, your whole body unfreezing little by little. 

You turned to the counter and greeted the girl behind it warmly and she returned a smile. 

“You’re here for Changbin, right ?” she asked and you blinked a few times, taken aback by the bluntness. “You’re y/n, right ?” she pushed further. You couldn’t do anything but nod. She smiled at you again, although it looked like a bit of a smirk, as she told you to follow her and walked to the back of the shop. 

She stopped in front of a closed curtain and pushed it to the side, peeking her head inside. 

“Y/n is here,” she said, “you ready ?” she asked him. There was no audible answer, but he must have said he was because she stepped back and pointed behind her with her thumb, indicating you to go in. 

You thanked her and pushed the curtain again, curiously eyeing the inside of the room before stepping in. 

Changbin was sitting in his work chair, smiling softly when he saw you enter. You smiled back, feeling your heartbeat pick up a little. 

“Hey” you greeted him, somehow your voice managed to crack, no matter how short that was, and you hated yourself for it. 

Changbin’s smile widened, “Hey” he said back. “Stressed ?” he asked and you shook your head in response. 

“No, it’s not like it’s my first time anyway” you joked and he bit his lip, looking down and away from your eyes. 

“Right” he commented, followed by a discreet chuckle.

You pursed your lips. Way to go, y/n. When would you stop making things uncomfortable ? Probably the day you died, because that was the only moment you’d finally shut up. 

Brushing it off, you cleared your throat, making Changbin look up at you again from his sitting position. 

“So, uh, what you got ?” you asked, feeling the heat from both the embarrassment and the fact Changbin looked like a god right in front of you in that very moment. It was hard to keep your gaze on him, and yet at the same time you couldn’t seem to take your eyes off of his figure. 

“Uh ? Oh, yeah right” he came back to his senses and spun his chair around to his desk, pushing a pile of papers as he looked for his design. 

You waited as patiently as you could, feeling your guts twist a little in anticipation while he kept making a mess before you. 

“Ha !” he exclaimed as he picked a piece of paper and held it up, turning around with a proud smile on his face as he showed it to you. 

Taking the paper, your eyes widened at the pleasant surprise you found drawn on it. 

Pursing your lips again to try and contain your laugh, it was to no help as you burst out laughing, bending in half as you held your sides. 

Changbin watched you, smirking proudly. He chuckled when he saw you wipe the corners of your eyes from how hard you’d been laughing.

“Changbin, oh my gosh...” you trailed as you tried to steady your breathing, holding the paper in front of you so you could take a good look at it once more. 

“What ? You didn’t specify anything about the size.” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Changbin, that’s not it,” you said, not taking your eyes off of the drawing before your eyes. 

“You don’t like it ?” he asked you, panic suddenly taking over him evident in his voice as he sat straight up. 

That’s when you finally ripped your eyes off the sheet, eyes wide as you thought it was obvious that was not it. 

“Are you kidding me ?” you said, not easing Changbin’s worries with the tone of your voice as he tensed up a bit more. “Changbin, I love it.” you stated and watched him slump back in his seat with a long sigh of relief. 

“My heart is beating normally again” he said, resting his right hand on his chest over his heart. 

“This is genius,” you continued, looking back at his drawing again. The carton of orange juice seemed to be looking back at you on the paper, although it had no eyes. There was even a small orange doodle on it, just like on the one you always bought. You chuckled lightly and Changbin smiled as he watched you. “I just... I never expected this but it’s perfect.” you spoke your mind and looked at him. He was a genius. That was the best thing he could have suggested. It was so much like him, so much like you, and it would mean so much more than anything else would have. 

You handed him the sheet back and he set in on his desk, smile never fading as he spun around to put it down. 

“Where do you want it ?” he asked as he spun around again to face you. 

That, you had not thought of, since you didn’t know what to expect. You shrugged. “Where do you want to tattoo it ?” you asked back with a sly smile.

He pursed his lips, still looking you in the eye, as he thought. 

“It’ll be your arm, then” he said and you smiled, nodding. “Get yourself ready” he motioned for you to take off your coat, “I’ll go get the stencil printed.” he instructed and left the room, leaving you alone as you removed your winter coat and scarf before hanging them. You sat down, looking around at the drawings adorning the walls of the room. You could see which ones were Changbin’s and which ones weren’t. He just had that thing, and it made everything he drew unique and easily recognisable. 

You rolled up your sleeve over your right arm, looking one last time at your skin before it got inked. 

Changbin stepped back in, startling you a little as you hadn’t heard him come back. He smiled at you again and showed you two stencils, two different sizes. Same drawing, though. 

“Which one ?” he asked as he held up both stencils next to each other. 

You thought for a second. “Maybe the smaller one ? It has to fit on my arm, after all” you said and he licked his lips, letting his hands fall down at his sides. 

“Let’s go then” he said.

He told you to stand up and you obliged. Changbin took his sweet time to put on some gloves and pour some liquid on a compress.

He rolled his chair over to you and rubbed your shoulder and down your arm with it. The cold contact made you shiver a bit, although you knew it was mixed with anticipation. You’d never wanted a tattoo so bad. 

“Ok, time for the stencil. You stay relaxed and remember to breathe or it’ll look weird” he instructed and you smiled.

“Yes sir, I know how tattoos work” you told him as your eyes shifted to your right to meet his annoyed ones. 

“Let me do my job, will you ?” he said as he prepared the design. You smiled to yourself. 

He applied the sticky drawing right under your shoulder, rubbing it lightly at the borders. He rolled back a little to look at it and gave you a thumbs up, satisfied. 

You looked at the blue drawing on your arm. This was gonna look so good. 

Changbin instructed you to sit down in his work chair as he turned to prepare the ink and needle. He rubbed your arm with another compress before taking his work tool in his hand and rolling back to your side, the noise the machine made making you bite your lip.

“Ready ?” he looked at you with raised eyebrows as he rolled your sleeve back up. 

“I’ve been waiting for this my whole life” you cracked a big smile.

Changbin cocked his head a little as he scoffed. “Let’s do this” he said.

He brought the needle down. 

You winced a little, reminding yourself to keep breathing and stay relaxed as Changbin ran the needle on (more like in) your arm repeatedly. 

It was almost over, and you knew it, but that was exactly why it hurt even more now. Your skin was on fire after getting pierced through for so long, and you’d been bleeding quite a lot. More than you and Changbin had expected. It was a surprise, because it was only the arm and it was just a small tattoo. Y/n, you weak bitch. 

There were only a few minutes left to endure. It hadn’t taken long, since it was small, and you were glad because somehow, it hurt a lot more than you had expected. Not as bad as the ribs, but worse than you’d thought. 

Changbin straightened up next to you, turning around to grab some paper towels and this unidentified refreshing liquid he poured on your arm before he rubbed it. You felt the pain ease, soothing you instantly. 

He looked at you, eyes shining and smiling brightly : “All done !” he announced, beaming with pride. 

You sighed in relief as you got up while he cleaned his tools next to you. 

“There’s a mirror right there” he pointed at the back of the room, opposite his desk. 

Seeing a small bit of tattoo flashing on your arm in your reflection as you moved closer to it, you couldn’t help the smile that stretched across your face, only growing bigger when you turned to see it completely. 

It looked amazing. It was so simple, and yet so elaborate. You had no words for it. No words would do it justice, and no words could express how you felt at that very moment. 

You turned back when Changbin called you to wrap your arm up. As he placed the transparent food wrap around your arm, he asked : “So, anything to say ?”

You looked up at him, blushing at the proximity. Gosh, he really was insanely handsome. 

“I don’t know what to say, to be honest. I can’t find anything to say.” you told him truthfully. “Thank you, Changbin”.

He gave you a lopsided smile as he patted your arm after finishing. 

“It’s my pleasure” he said. 

You stayed there for a second, looking at him with a soft smile. 

“How much do I owe you ?” you asked, walking to your coat to take your wallet out. 

Changbin grabbed your forearm, careful not to touch you on your new tattoo. You turned around, quaking an eyebrow at him questioningly.

“You don’t owe me anything, let’s say it’s a high school reunion present” he said and flashed you an eye smile that melted your heart. 

“No way, I can’t let you do that ! It’s too much” you shook your head, turning fully as he let go of your arm. 

“It’s fine, really” he said as he got up to grab your coat and scarf before handing them to you and pushing you out, hand on the small of your back. 

You made your way back to the front desk, carefully sliding your right arm into your coat’s sleeve as you put your clothes back on before stepping out, Changbin right behind you. 

Flipping your scarf over your shoulder, you sighed. 

“Okay, then I'll get going” you said. “Thank you again, and uh, I'll see you soon I guess ?” you told Changbin, the last part coming out as more of a question as you felt unsure about it. 

He simply nodded and let out a small “Sure” and you awkwardly nodded back before you turned on your heels and stepped out, letting the cold wind hit your face with its blow. 

You could always come back to get another tattoo from him anyway. Maybe you’d meet again at the grocery store. There was a chance you’d run into each other on the streets. Or maybe your high school would finally organise an alumni reunion and you’d get to see him again. Was it going to end just like this ? You couldn’t stand the thought of it. 

You’d been walking a few metres only when you got interrupted in your train of thoughts by a voice calling your name. You turned back, curious. 

Changbin jogged up to your level, wearing only a t-shirt, stopping right in front of you. 

“Wait I-I uh,” he stuttered, scratching the back of his neck nervously, “I just realised uh, I don- I don’t have your number, so if you have any problems or-”

“Changbin,” you cut him off as he started fiddling with his fingers, “just kiss me already” you said bluntly. 

He gaped at you and stuttered something you couldn’t quite make out, but he stepped closer to you and took your face in his hands nonetheless, crashing his lips on yours. 

In the end, you were the one to be surprised. 

He pulled away and looked in your eyes. He seemed shocked at what he’d just done, but showed no regret in doing it. Where had his confident flirty self gone, though ?

His eyes were as wide as yours, not believing what had just happened himself. Still, he asked you : “Wanna do that again ?”

You nodded quickly, “S-Sure, but let’s get back inside before you freeze to death” you told him and he cracked a smile before laughing lightly. 

“I’ll go get my coat” he said as he turned around, “wanna go grab some orange juice at the grocery store ?” he shot at you.

You smiled. There it was. 

———

~admin zia (@jinniesmeow)

#stray kids imagines #stray kids #stray kids scenarios #seo changbin #skz #skz writing #bang chan #kim woojin #lee minho #hwang hyunjin #han jisung #lee felix #kim seungmin #yang jeongin #kpop scenarios #kpop fluff #fluff #changbin fanfic #fanfic #jinniesmeow

[loverofthefiction]

I (don’t) Hate You

Summary: You and Peter don’t exactly get along, but what will happen when Tony is over it?

Peter Parker x reader (can be read as a Stark!reader)

Word Count:  2279

Warnings: some harsh words (i broke my own heart oof), angst and fluff

Author’s Note: oh hi i’m back uwu. i’ve been having bad writer’s block and literally no ideas when it comes to stories. So please send some requests! i swear i’ll so my best :’)) Anyway, enjoy!!

He tasted blood in his mouth and felt the life in his body practically draining away.

But really, it was just another Tuesday.

You had tried your best to get to him as fast as you could, but with a whole pack of bodyguards that had somehow went unaccounted for in your first sweep of the area, they had gotten to him before you had.

The mission was supposed to be a solo mission but since Peter was practically new to the whole ‘avenging’ thing, Tony told you to tag along in case something went wrong. But the three of you knew that really, Tony wanted you to go on a bonding mission and maybe learn to get along.

See, you and Peter didn’t exactly get along. You had tried when he first joined the team, but he was cold against you so you opted to return his feelings. The charisma he showed towards certain people did sometimes anger you (how the hell were you so different from them to not be worthy of his smiles or stupid jokes?) and the utter enthusiasm he wore when he was paired with Steve or Natasha? It felt like a slap to the face. But you weren’t jealous. Nope. Absolutely not.

It was stupid from the start; Peter had been a crime fighter for years, you were sure he could handle a little mission like this.

But alas, Tony was in charge of the both of you and you had to comply, whether you agreed with him or not.

It only took you a few hits to the face and a kick to the gut before the guy that had taken Peter was lying on the floor unconscious (maybe a little dead).

“What the hell took you so long?” he grunted as you freed him from the confines of the chair he was in.

“Oh you know, just raided their pantry really quickly, rich people have the name brand shit.”

He stayed quiet in response to your stupid comment as you both stealthily snuck out of the large mansion you were in, knocking out the few bodyguards that you found in your way.

Soon enough, you reached the outside where he held you close, much to both of your dismays, and webbed you away near the extraction point.

“How’d it go?” Tony asked as you and Peter stomped onto the Quinjet.

“Awful. He complained the entire time,” you grumbled.

“Me? I was complaining because you almost got me killed! All because you don’t know how to scope a perimeter right!”

“It’s not my fault they had twenty bodyguards hidden in their basement or something! Next time, why don’t you shove your opinion right up your-”

“Hey! That’s enough!” Tony yelled, stepping between the two of you before it escalated. “Listen I don’t know why you two have this issue, but I suggest you figure it out by tomorrow morning or you’ll both be kicked out of the Avengers.”

Your jaw dropped and Peter’s eyes widened.

“Tony!”

“Mr. Stark, you can’t do this-”

“Of course I can, and I will if you two don’t get your shit together. As soon as we get to the compound, I’m locking you two in a room and you won’t be let out until you’ve controlled yourselves.”

“This is bullshit,” you spat.

“I suggest you watch your mouth or else I’ll move up the deadline.”

..

“Alright,” Tony opened the door to a bedroom neither you nor Peter had seen before, “tick tock, kiddos. I’ll be back in the morning.”

And with that he shut the door, even being sure he locked it with a key before you heard his content steps leading away from it.

You were sitting on a chair towards one side of the room and Peter had situated himself at a desk on the other side, both of you staring daggers into the other.

“I absolutely despise you,” he growled.

“I feel the same way, darling,” you spat back.

“Idiot,” he sneered.

“Jerk,” you retorted.

“Asshole.”

“Moron.”

“You know, why can’t you just get it through that thick skull of yours that you need to stop being such an arrogant douche all the time?” you spat.

“As soon as you realize you’re not better than the rest of the world and that you have got to get that stick out of your ass.”

“I do not have a stick up my ass!” you yelled.

“Oh you do, sweetheart, and you need to get it out before you start kicking puppies and taking candy from children.”

“Oh, that’s it!” You stood up from the chair, fuming. “I can’t believe Tony would ever hire a dickhead like you! The only explanation would be out of pity! I mean, a wannabe superhero orphan glad to save the day just to make the last few people in his life proud? It’s a perfect sob story!” You regretted the words as soon as they left your mouth but it was too late to turn back now.

You saw the pain your words caused Peter take effect quickly and he turned away from you.

“That was a low blow, Y/N.”

You opened your mouth to apologize, but nothing came out. Your heart ached and you couldn’t imagine what his had felt like.

Shame causes you to fall back down onto your chair and your words echoed through your head.

After a while (minutes? Maybe half an hour or more), you finally gathered enough courage to croak something out:

“I-I’m sorry, Peter. I don’t know what came over me. I didn’t mean it.”

The room was silent, so you continued.

“The truth is,” you sighed, “I don’t hate you. I just hate the way you treat me. I think you’re a cool guy and I really admire the passion you have towards this line of work. Most people would have cracked in a month with all the things we see, but you, you’re a true hero.”

You heard him sigh and he turned his head slightly towards you.

“Do you mean it?”

“Of course I do.”

“Then… I’m sorry too.”

“For what?”

“I’ve been an asshole to you since the moment I’ve met you.”

“Oh Peter, you don’t have to-”

“But I do, I have to apologize. I felt pressure or some sort of competition between us and as soon as I realized there really wasn’t any, my pride was too strong and I… I don’t know, kept running with it I guess. I felt like it was too late to change, but now I realize that it never was.”

“Alright, so what do you say we start over?” You stood up and walked toward him, stopping when you were right in front of him. As soon as you had his full attention, you held out your hand. “Hi, my name is Y/N, nice to meet a new coworker.”

“I’m Peter,” he chuckled, taking your hand and shaking it. “I’m looking forward to working with you.”

..

It had been two months since that time spent alone with Peter and it had worked, to say the least. You two were practically inseparable now.

In that span of two months, you had grown the closest you had ever been with anyone; he became your best friend, the one who you can share secrets with and who you can laugh at the stupidest things with.

The team didn’t mind your new closeness at first, they actually encouraged it. But now it was getting a little too much for their liking.

“Hey, kids,” Steve greeted as he walked into the common room where you and Peter were watching a movie, his head on your lap and you ran your fingers through his hair.

“Hi,” you both said in unison.

He sat on the couch adjacent to the one you were sitting on.

“So are you two…” he pointed between the two of you and raised his eyebrows suggestively.

“No, we’re just-” you stopped your fingers midway through his hair- “close.”

“Yeah,” Peter cleared his throat. “We’re best friends.”

“Ok.”

Steve got up and walked away, leaving the two of you confused.

“What do you think that came from?” Peter asked.

“I have no idea.”

..

“Y/N, you’re doing better on your left side, keep practicing as I told you,” Natasha said as the both of you walked out the training area after a session.

“Thanks, I tried to have Peter practice with me but he wouldn’t do it because he was scared I’d hurt him.” You bit your lip, your mind immediately going to the goofy face he would make whenever you suggested training together.

“You two have gotten really close, huh?”

“Yeah, we tell each other everything.”

“Ok.”

“Why is everyone so weird about it? Steve had the same reaction.”

“It’s obvious.”

“What is?”

“How you two really feel about each other.”

“We’re best friends.”

“But you want to be more than that.”

“No I don’t, it would mess things up.”

“Ah, so you do have feelings for him.”

“No, I don’t,” you looked down so she wouldn’t see the blush sneaking on your face.

“I’m not going to sit here and pretend I know what I’m talking about but I also know you two would be really good with each other. And maybe we wouldn’t have to deal with your cuddling shit anymore.”

She patted your back and walked out of the room to probably take a shower, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

..

“Hey, Tony,” you greeted as you walked into his lab with two cups of coffee. He immediately put the wrench he was working with down and took the mug you offered.

“Hey, kid, what’s new?”

“I have a question.”

“Shoot.”

“Do you… do you think Peter has feelings for me?”

“Absolutely.”

“What?”

“Everyone knows. Look,” he looked around the lab. “Hey, Mariah!”

“Yes?” an intern looked up from her work on a desktop.

“Who is Peter in love with?”

“Y/N, sir,” she responded.

“Thanks,” he said and looked back at you. “See? It’s so obvious.”

“Oh… then what do I do?”

“Leave that up to me, I have a few tricks up my sleeve.”

..

It had been a week or two since you hung out with Peter, and you were starting to get worried. Did you accidentally say something wrong? Maybe you had just not noticed…

The fear and guilt were so bad that they kept you up some nights, your fingers itching towards your phone, wanting to text him, but the rational side of you would put it away as to give him his space.

“Hey, Y/N,” Tony greeted, the usual bags under his eyes weren’t as prominent, meaning he actually had gotten rest, and answered why he was so peppy that morning.

“Hi, Tony,” you grumbled, nursing a (strong) mug of coffee.

“Have you seen Peter today? I asked him to come to the lab but he didn’t show up.”

“No, I haven’t talked to him in a few weeks.” The sentence sent a small ping of pain in your chest but you kept it to yourself and stared at the mug in your hands.

“Hmm… maybe you should go to your room and, I don’t know, take a nap, watch a movie, doodle in a coloring book, whatever kids do these days.”

“Tony…” you narrowed your eyes at him in suspension. “What are you doing?”

“Not trying to make you go to your room obviously.”

When he saw that you hadn’t budged, he rolled his eyes.

“Just go, trust me.”

“You’re not tricking me into having to disable one of your bots again, right?”

“No! Now off you go! Scram!”

“Fine!” You got up and stared at him until you had left the kitchen, cautiously walking to your room. Since you hadn’t had much sleep lately, you also hadn’t spent much time in your room either. Most nights, you stayed up and hung out in the common room or in a lab, getting ahead on work for the next day and so on.

When you got to your room, you creaked the door open carefully.

At first glance, everything was normal.

Until you heard someone clear their throat beside you.

“Jesus! Peter!” you shouted upon realization. You immediately wrapped your arms around him.

“H-hey, Y/N,” he stuttered, caught off guard by the way you threw yourself at him.

“Where have you been?” You let go of him to look at his face. “And why are you dressed in a tux?”

“It was Mr. Stark’s idea.” He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. Then, his eyes widened in realization. “Oh! These are for you.”

He handed you a bouquet of flowers from his shaky hands and you smiled.

“Thank you, Peter! These are beautiful.”

“Like you,” he said nervously.

“Let me guess, Tony told you to say that.”

“Yes, but I actually mean it,” he smiled. “Sorry, I’m really bad at this…”

“At what?”

“Asking people out…” His hand went back to rub the back of his neck again.

“I think you just did,” you chuckled. “The answer’s yes by the way.”

His shy smile grew to a proud grin and he stood a bit more confidently.

“So do you want to go get breakfast?”

“As long as we can go to McDonald’s,” you grinned back.

“Oh thank you, I really need to change out of this tux.”

“Go, I’ll be ready in a bit.” You watched him as he practically skipped to the door. “Oh, and Peter?”

“Yes?”

You walked up to him, held his face in your hands and placed a small kiss on his lips.

“You’re pretty too.”

#peter parker x reader #peter parker fluff #peter parker x you #peter parker x stark!reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker x y/n #peter parker #spiderman fanfiction #spiderman x reader #spiderman x stark!reader #tony stark x daughter!reader #spiderman x you #spiderman x y/n #peter parker fanfiction

[artificialqueens]

In Retrograde : Chapter Two (branjie) - ephemerals

Author’s Note: Thank you for all the support on the first chapter!! I’m glad you are enjoying reading because I have enjoyed writing this. You can find me at @missvanjies.

Synopsis: After spending months uninspired, Vanessa, a local reporter, becomes infatuated with writing a story surrounding the downfall of a police officer discharged after killing an innocent man.

When Brooke Lynn returns to her hometown after her life begins to fall apart, she doesn’t expect to find solace in the charismatic brunette who seems just a little too invested in uncovering all the secrets of her past.

In the days that followed the night at the bar, Vanessa’s mind had become plagued with inspiration. She had pitched her idea to Michelle, the editor. A think piece, the details will come later. All she knew was that the star of the show would be Brooke Lynn Hytes and her fall from grace. Surprising, Michelle enjoyed her ambition. Probably excited to read something with some substance. She just needs to see a draft on the table by the end of the week.

However, it becomes clear to Vanessa that she’s overlooked a lot of details and maybe she was a little too ambitious. Her grand plans are thwarted by crippling writers block, and when it hits the night before the deadline, she’s got absolutely nothing on her page. She needs to do some research, and quick. So, Vanessa reverts to the most effective method of gathering research; Facebook stalking.

Brooke Lynn Hytes. Seventy-four mutual friends. Vanessa enlarges her profile picture. She’s smiling, looking down from the camera towards her cocktail. It’s obviously taken by someone else on vacation, probably somewhere Mediterranean. Her blonde hair is back pulled in a tight bun, skin bronzed and absolutely glowing. If Vanessa didn’t know she was doing research on a criminal, she would have assumed this woman was an Instagram influencer or something along those lines.

Vanessa aimlessly clicks through several public photos, all of them seeming meticulously chosen. There was not a single bad photo among the bunch. In every single photo that loaded, Brooke looked the exact same. Tall, blonde surrounded by other beautiful women, handsome men. And that’s when she notices something. Not a single one of these photos were uploaded by Brooke, nor were they uploaded recently. Vanessa keeps scrolling through the pictures, all dated two, three years in the past.

And there’s this man. He’s in almost every single photo. Just slightly taller than her, dark hair, designer suits. Gorgeous and absolutely terrifying. Intrigued, Vanessa opens his tag. Luke Connelly. Luckily for her, his profile was completely public. Investment banker. Toronto. Got engaged to Brooke Lynn Hytes in August, 2015. Broke up with Brooke Lynn Hytes March, 2018. Well, this is just an assumption. There’s a surplus of brand new photos featuring a much younger, much smaller blonde girl. Her names Ariel and she’s a makeup artist. Vanessa also assumes Luke has known her longer than March.

After spending the better part of an hour scouring through the network of profiles, Vanessa concludes that she isn’t going to reach the deadline. That’s always when she decides that maybe she needs a drink.

…

Brooke’s been bored shitless for days. She’s really trying to stick to the promise she made with Nina. To behave herself, stay out of trouble. It’s been easier that she thought to do so. In the week she had been home, she had left the house only once and the entire time strangers gawked at her like they had seen a ghost. She spent her hours dwindling down her parents collection of mature wines and watching whatever Netflix recommended to her. It was just enough to distract her from thinking about her life, but not enough to entertain her.

As the supplies began to run dry, Brooke had begun to look for some new ways to keep her occupied without leaving the house. Late one afternoon, she found herself curiously rummaging through her father’s collection of vinyl records. Most of them she remembered fondly, her father playing them softly through the house whenever he was home. Brooke chose one at random, examining the cover for a moment before turning to the track list. Born In The USA. Gently, she removes the cover and places it on the turntable. As the needle hits the vinyl, the first notes of a familiar song begin playing.

Brooke takes a seat on her father’s armchair, resting her chin in her hand. This was the album she used to dance around the house to as a kid with her dad. He’d swing her around in circles until her mother would stop them in frustration. Her father was the first one to suggest that Brooke should take dance lessons, and with extreme perseverance, her mother finally agreed. Sometimes, Brooke wished that she followed that path instead. There was always this voice in her head that told her to be realistic, get a real job, get married, have a normal life. It was so much easier to surrender. So she moved to Toronto, trained with the police and got engaged to the first man who showed interest in her. And now this fantasy world she had built for herself was crumbling.

That was the worst part of it all. This wasn’t even what Brooke wanted. All of this was a masquerade. Brooke had lured all these people into this lie. That’s what she felt the most guilty about. Nina, Luke, her parents. People who are going to be hurt in the fallout. Tears begin welling up in her eyes. Her chest is heavy and it isn’t long before Brooke is choking back sobs. She falls back into the armchair, weeping to the soft hum of her father’s music.

…

Brooke awakens, weary-eyed and hazy, instantly drawn to the sounds of movement in the room. She rubs the sleep from her eyes, slowly opening them towards her father tidying up in the corner of the room. The album had come to a halt, needle caught spinning in the deadwax.

“Springsteen huh?” He holds up the cover to Brooke, grinning. Brooke sits herself up, limbs still tired.

“I just picked whatever.”

“You know,” her father slides the album between hundreds of others on the shelf, “We used to dance to this when you were little. Your mother hated it.”

“Yeah,” Brooke’s reply is soft, “I remember.”

Outside, the world has become dark. The sun had set and the stars were high above. Her father goes back to what he was previously doing, solemn with nostalgia. Of all the people she has hurt over the years, her father had taken it the hardest. In his eyes, Brooke would always be his little girl. And yet he knows everything Brooke has done.

“Your mother-,” there’s a beat, he turns towards his daughter, “and I, we think it’s best if you see someone again. I know you won’t like the idea-“

“I’m fine, Dad,” she hoists herself up, begins to walk towards him, “I don’t need a stranger to pry inside my mind.”

There was always this uncertainty around how Brooke would react. Every since she was young, Brooke had always lashed out in unexpected ways. It was her way of controlling things, taking everything out on herself. Entirely impossible to predict. By now, her father knew to approach things with caution or else prepare for the worst. If Brooke was heading on the path of self-destruction, nothing could stop her.

“Brooke,” he rests the palms of his hands on her shoulders, “You keep drinking the day away. I hear you awake at all hours of the night. I don’t think you have eaten a single meal since you’ve been home. What if you relapse? What if it’s worse? We’re just worried.”

“I’m not going to waste my time pouring my heart out to someone, just to tell me how much of a bad person I am. I already know that I’m a terrible person.”

“Just,” he presses a kiss on her forehead in between his words, “Think about it for me. Promise me?”

“Okay, I will.”

Looming over her, Brooke has all these promises she’s destined to break. Going to therapy, bringing her problems to light, sounded like the worst scenario. For now, Brooke carries this weight with her. There’s a million things demanding her attention that she will continue to keep repressed for as long as she possibly can. She needs something to stop the noise, even if it’s just for a minute. She just needs something.

…

When Brooke first enters the doors of the bar, it was as if she never left. In the two years since she had been home, the place had not changed in the slightest way. The jukebox booms over all the other noise in the room. Eerily empty, the sparse customers all focused on the hockey game playing silently on the TV. Brooke saunters up to the bar, leaning over towards the bartender.

“A whiskey on the rocks please,” She asks politely, the bartender raising his eyebrow at the request. Brooke slides the money towards him.

“That’s not the kind of drink a pretty girl like you should be orderin’,” An older man calls from across the bar. The gathering of people around him snicker at the comment. Brooke rolls her eyes and knocks back her drink in a single gulp. She doesn’t flinch as it burns her throat.

“I’ll take another one please,” She smirks, the men on the other side of the room stop instantly. She could out-drink each and every one of them. Brooke perches herself on a stool, downing her second drink at a much slower pace. That’s something she didn’t miss about being single, the attention she would receive from men. Having a ring on her finger was enough protection. Men respected other men. They respected the concept of her husband more than they cared about the woman before her. Now she was exposed and vulnerable. A pretty unclaimed woman. The thought of it all made Brooke feel ill.

Hey, little girl, is your daddy home? 
Did he go away and leave you all alone? 
I got a bad desire.

Oh, oh, oh 
I’m on fire.

The melody of a familiar song begins playing in the background among the blur of chatter and clamouring of glass. Brooke empties her glass and orders a replacement. She looks back behind her briefly, caught off guard by a piercing glare in her direction. A woman sitting alone in a booth with caramel hair and dark eyes. Hauntingly beautiful. The eye contact causes Brooke to recoil, turning her head back to face the bar immediately. Brooke’s almost certain she’s still staring, burning her way through her skull. A part of her wants to turn back, take a good once over of this woman.

Tell me now, baby, is he good to you? 
And can he do to you the things that I do? 
Oh no, I can take you higher.

Oh, oh, oh 
I’m on fire.

A cacophony of drunken men erupt in song. It’s rowdy and loud, arms being thrown around shoulders in camaraderie. An average night in a small town bar. It distracts Brooke for long enough to forget about the mysterious woman behind her. Enamoured by the chaos. They sing and slosh their drinks around, whiskey and rum flooding the floor.

Sometimes it’s like someone took a knife, baby, edgy and dull
, And cut a six-inch valley through the middle of my skull
. At night, I wake up with the sheets soakin’ wet
, And a freight train runnin’ through the middle of my head.

Tapping her foot against the stool, Brooke can’t help to hum along. She envisions her father joyfully spinning her around their living room, lifting her up high towards the ceiling. They slide around on the floorboards in their socks, jump around on the sofa while her mother is away. Her eyes are closed but Brooke is beaming, immersed in the song.


Only you can cool my desire.

Oh, oh, oh
 I’m on fire.

And as the song draws to a close, Brooke is brought slowly back to reality. She’s alone and slightly tipsy in public. The outro rings through her ears. The spontaneous karaoke is replaced by conversation. The room is back how it once was. Brooke curiously glances behind her.

The booth was completely empty. The woman was no longer there.

…

After a while, she slips out the front for a cigarette. The night air caresses her exposed skin. She’s dressed quite casually, ripped jeans and a baggy shirt that slouched down her shoulder. Brooke didn’t have the commitment to dress like she used to. It cost money and her precious time to look that way. She covers her cigarette to light it, inhaling sharply, exhaling the smoke into the night.

It was a bad habit, but not her worst by any means. While the thought didn’t necessarily thrill her parents or Nina, they gathered it was much better she smoked then binged on drugs or hurt herself again. Brooke liked the routine of it all. It was a meditative experience, taking time out of her day just for herself. Nina had argued that it was making time to slowly kill yourself, but the argument was lost on Brooke. She was always going to do what she wanted, regardless of what anyone had to say. On a good day, they were enough to keep her calm. On a bad day, well, they just came in handy.

Today, Brooke wasn’t entirely sure where she was at. The hours passed painfully slow. Maybe it was just the alcohol clouding her brain, but everything had felt almost like a dream. Dampening her brain with masses of alcohol had just saturated that feeling. Brooke couldn’t stop thinking about that woman. She was utterly surreal. It could have all been part of her imagination, a hallucination. But the fierce stare had penetrated straight into Brooke’s soul. The interaction had been so abrupt, had it been literally anyone else, it would have already slipped her mind.

But it lingers, and it burns.

If Brooke was smart, she would go home and sleep it off. Wake up in the morning, perhaps a little hungover, but at least with a clear mind. Her mind is foggy, just enough for her to keep pushing. She takes the final drags of her cigarette, stubbs the remainder into the wall and she steps towards the building’s door. Except as the door swings open, Brooke’s stopped in the tracks by a sudden force. She loses her balance temporarily as the other person curses in a raspy voice.

“Hey! Watch where you’re goin’.”

“I’m so sor-“ Brooke starts, as she looks up. Caramel hair. Dark eyes. Oh fuck.

Startled, both women step back. The other woman’s mouth agape, eyes wide. Deer in the headlights. Once she regains composure, Brooke restarts her apology.

“I’m so sorry, I should watch where I’m going.”

“Uh,” the woman stammers, “Don’t worry about it. I was just leavin’.”

Hurried, she pushes past her trying to escape. Brooke reaches out, in a rare moment of intoxicated bravery, and grabs her wrist gently. Her fingertips ignite at the feathery touch.

“Wait!” Brooke’s words come out shaky in confusion, hoping, praying that somehow she can get this woman to stay. Brooke was definitely intrigued, “Let me buy you a drink to apologise.”

“I-“ The woman pulls away, stuttering through her words, “I have to go.”

Swiftly, the woman disappears into the night. Left silent and astounded, Brooke is still. Illuminated in the neon light, wind hissing in her ear.

Brooke is on fire.

#rpdr fanfiction #branjie #angst #lesbian au #slow burn #in retrograde #ephemerals #submission #brooke lynn hytes #vanessa vanjie mateo

[mirkwoodshewolf]

My boys are my family; Queen x reader

Hello all, I am so sorry for the lateness of this chapter but I was in a bit of a writer’s block, thought I could do some requests but I hit a road block there too so I came back and I have for you a brand new chapter of the Rock Angel series YAAAAAAA. And after seeing BoRhap for the 3rd time I saw the sing along version (which I was a bit disappointed, did it show the lyrics for any of you who went to see it, cause they didn’t for mine. But I still enjoyed the movie either way even it if was just me, my dad, and 2 strangers who didn’t even participate in the thing but my dad and I sure as hell did lol) Anyways taglist is always open so anyone interested just send me a message or comment below.

WARNINGS: ANGST. Fluff, family abandonment, bit of violence and abuse, swearing, this chapter is pretty intense towards the end so just be warned against slurs and abuse but I promise the FLUFF will prevail!

Taglist *open*:

@onebigfangirlworld

@phantom-fangirl-stuff

@mr-badguymercury

@labessieisallama

@starswin

@naturalswifty89

@dj-lowkey

@isabella-bby

________________________________________________

*November 19th, 1982*

Ahhh home sweet home.  It feels good to be back in jolly ol England once more.  It’s especially good to be back home in my flat. Now that I’m on holiday break of my tour after just beginning my first European tour back in mid-August, I am thrilled to relax for a bit before resuming it. Even though it’s only 2pm, I have major jetlag. I swear once I get inside I am going into bed and sleeping until the end of the week.  I set my bags down for a second and unlocked my door and opened it up and carried my stuff inside.

But once I passed my living room, I soon heard a chorus of male voices greeting me with ooh and awes.  When I looked up it turned out that it was my boys, Freddie, Brian, Roger and Deacy.  I raised my arms in the air giving the rock and roll symbol as my boys greeted me.

“There’s our lovely angel.” Freddie praised.  Since I had asked Dominque to keep an eye on my flat since I lived so close to them, Roger probably asked for the spare key and called the guys knowing that I was going to be home today from my first European tour.

“You guys waited up for me?” I asked as I put my over bag down.

“Of course we waited up for you love, we wanted to hear everything about your first solo tour.” Answered Brian.  I smiled at them grateful that my boys were willing to wait up in my flat just to welcome me home.

“So come on tell us, how did Europe treat our girl?” asked Roger as he patted down on the open space of the couch between him and Deacy.  I walked into my living room and sat down between them and I said.

“Like her royal majesties.” I said speaking about the boys.  “I mean I remember the tours I went with you guys but now being the star of the concert…..It was completely mind boggling.” I praised still trying to wrap my head around things.

Roger gently pushed me down so that my head was resting in his lap while his fingers stroked through my hair and I looked up at him. I respected Deacy’s space by keeping my legs down on the floor, but bless him, he took my legs and had them lay across his lap.  He even untied my boots and set them down on the side of the couch.

“I never thought in my wildest dreams that I would ever reach this point. I mean yeah Japan gave me goosebumps at seeing them love my music but never would I think that all of Europe would love my music too.”

“That’s because you are a star darling, you deserve to be among us.” Freddie stated as he lounged on one of my chairs.

“So where was your favorite place during your tour?” asked Deacy.

“Ohh wow well I really loved Greece. But if I had to pick my favorite place of the tour, I really loved Budapest. They welcomed me like I was the Queen of their country, was given a boat tour and got to see the Parliament building. And apparently Budapest was the first city to sell out for my concert in less than 24hours. Can you believe that?”

“Wow, that’s amazing love. We’re so proud of you.” Said Roger as he continued to stroke through my hair, his fingers gently scratching my scalp.

“But you know what the most memorable thing of all was?” I asked as Roger kissed my forehead.

“What’s that?” asked Brian.

“It was when I toured the countries that didn’t speak a hint of English, much like that show you guys did in Rio back in the late 70’s, when the entire audience was singing your songs back to you. I was….almost about to break down in tears on stage when they sang the bridge to ‘Set it all free’.”

“It is defining but it’s wonderful when you know your music can touch so many people.”

“And to think once I get done with my second album, I get to do it all over again. Although I wish the next tour is the Rock Angel and Queen. I’ve missed my boys too much while I was touring.”

“Aww and we missed you too darling.” Cooed Freddie.

“(Y/n) love you look exhausted; did you get any sleep at all on the plane?” Roger said. I turned back towards him and looked up at him and said.

“Yeah, it’s just the jetlag you guys know how bad it gets for me. Plus all the other times I’ve had to fly throughout the tour, guess my jetlag has tripled for the three months.” I explained.

“Well why don’t we get you upstairs to your room and into bed?” he suggested.  I sat up and stretched myself out and nodded in agreement.  It was then Roger suddenly picked me up bridal style and just before we left the living room, my phone rang.

“Wait, wait I need to get that.” I groaned tiredly.

“We can take a message for you.” He told me.

“No, no Roger put me down. It could be Miami asking me about the rest of the tour dates.”

“He can wait, you cannot.” Brian then picked up the phone and said.

“(Y/n) (l/n) residence,” there was a pause and he continued, “No I’m sorry she can’t come to the phone right now, may I ask who this is?” I had Roger stop because if Brian didn’t say Miami’s name then who the heck was calling me. “Yeah, okay….sure….I will relay the message to her. Thank you.” Brian then hung up my phone and I asked as I was still being held by Roger.

“Who was it?”

“That was Glenfield hospital…..(y/n),” he took a pause almost like he didn’t want to say anything.

“What is it Brian? Spit it out already this involves our girl so what’s happened?” asked Freddie worriedly.

“(Y/n) your uncle suffered a heart attack this morning.”

My heart stopped and my body tensed up.

I turned away and patted Roger’s shoulder wordlessly telling him to put me down.  He gladly obliged and I placed my hands at my hips turning away from the guys so they wouldn’t see me cry.

“(Y/n)….” Started Deacy.

“Is he dead?” I asked in a sharp tone.

“No, not yet. They wouldn’t tell me anything else beyond that unless you were at the phone.” Answered Brian. I nodded my head for a brief moment and wiped my cheeks, not understanding why I was acting like this.

“Ohh I see. So even when he suffers the worst way possible he still manages to hang on. Typical of him, he was always as stubborn and pigheaded as an ox.” I muttered icily.

“(Y/n) darling, are you okay?” asked Freddie. I turned to them and each one of my boys looked at me with pure concern.  I exhaled shakily and said.

“Fine yeah I’m fine. Hell I don’t even know why I’m getting so emotional right now I mean…..I told you guys about what he and my aunt did, so there’s no need to get upset around him, right? Right. I just…..” without another word I raced the stairs and headed straight for my bedroom and slammed the door shut before pressing my back against it.

I then slowly walked towards my bed and just collapsed in it and took one of my many pillows and buried my face in it and let out a scream.

*3rd Person POV*

The boys all stood there in silence and Roger said.

“Why would they do this to her?!”

“It’s not the hospital’s fault Roger. They were just doing their job.” Stated Deacy. Roger slumped back down on (y/n)’s couch and said.

“Yeah, yeah. It’s just that she was finally happy for a change and now they had to go and ruin it for her!”

“Well it can’t be avoided any longer my darlings. It’s happened and….we need to put aside our profound hatred towards her aunt and uncle and be there for her. Come on let’s go check on her.”

“Hold on Fred,” stated Brian.  “It’ll seem like we’re trying to gang up on her if we all go. Let me talk to her, I know firsthand at what she’s going through.” Freddie nodded in understandment and he said.

“Alright Brian, we’ll stay down here if you need help.” Brian nodded then he went up the stairs two at a time and headed towards (y/n)’s bedroom.

He stopped right at the door and first listened to see if he could hear anything going on.  When he didn’t hear anything, he softly knocked on the door.

*My POV*

After screaming in my pillow till my voice went hoarse, I merely just lay there curled up in my bed.  I soon heard a knock at my door.

“Not now guys okay?”

‘(Y/n) it’s just me love, may I come in?’ Brian’s voice was heard from the other side of my door. I sniffled softly and wiped my tearstains away and I said.

“Come in.” He opened the door and stepped inside before closing it behind him.  I felt the bed softly dip and soon I felt Brian’s hand on my arm.

“Love are you sure you’re okay?” he said as I felt his thumb gently stroke up and down my arm.

“No.” I sat up and adjusted myself so that I was now facing Brian and I told him, “How am I supposed to feel when the man who kicked me out of the house at age 17 is now apparently laying on his death bed. I should feel joy and relief knowing that he’s gonna die but….but why do I feel so emotional when for over 9 years he’s done nothing but belittle me and tear me down along with that psychopathic bitch he calls a wife? Brian I’m just—so confused.” He gently tucked my hair behind my ear and stroked my cheek gingerly wiping away the tearstains from my face as he said.

“Because they’re still your family. Believe me love anytime I get a message from my mum telling me that dad had a serious accident or something, I’m frantic with worry even though it hurts to remember all the times he told me that going for a music career was a waste of my potential. We can’t help but worry for our family, even when we don’t like each other.” I sniffled and asked him desperately.

“What do I do now?” Brian sighed heavily and said.

“If I were you, I would call the hospital and get the rest of the details. Then I’d go see him one last time.”

“But what if I don’t? Would you and the guys be mad at me if I chose not to?”

“He’s your uncle (y/n). We cannot force you to go see him, you’re an adult and it’s your choice in the end. We’ll still support you in any way we can, whatever you choose. Just be sure that whatever you choose in the end, you won’t live to regret it.” I looked down solemnly.

I then slowly crawled towards Brian and lay my head against his chest and held onto him.  He wrapped his arms around me stroking down my head and rubbing and every now and then patting my back.

“But you don’t have to decide anything right now darling, you’ve just got back from a 3 month tour and a long 14hr flight. Take some time for yourself to get recharged and then you can make the decision, okay?” I nodded softly.  After staying in his arms a little longer, Brian then tucked me in my bed.  

Once I fully tucked in, he stayed by my side for a moment brushing the hair out of my face before gently cupping my cheek against his palm and his thumb gingerly stroking my cheek.

“Brian.”

“Yes, what is it?”

“Will you and the guys stay here when I wake up?”

“I promise love, we won’t leave you. Do you want me to call them up here?” I shook my head no.

“No, I—I just want you here with me for a while, until I fall asleep. I just…..don’t want to wake up remembering today’s events and end up being alone.”

“That’s understandable love. We’ll be here for you when you wake up. Nor will I leave you until you fall asleep.” He wrapped his arm around me as he lay his head right in front of me stroking my shoulder with his thumb.  His forehead gently touching mine and as he softly pecked my nose, I succumbed to the embrace of sleep and the last thing I heard from Brian before I fully fell asleep.

“Good night (y/n), sleep well my bright star.”

When I woke up, I found myself alone in my bedroom and the smell of eggs and bacon filled the air.  I changed out of my clothes from the other day and put on some fresh, clean ones before heading downstairs to see the boys all around my kitchen arguing as usual while Roger was at my oven cutting something up.

“I swear Roger were not getting into this argument again. And if you lock yourself up in (y/n)’s cupboard, we’re just gonna bolt it shut with chains this time.” I heard Brian say.

“The song was great, people ended up liking it. It deserves a spot on our Greatest hits album!” Roger snapped.

“Roger even (y/n) agrees that the song is weird. And she has good taste because of that.” I heard Deacy say.

“Children please, we could all murder each other but then who’d be left to decide what goes on our Greatest hits vol.1 album?” Freddie said as he set down his mug probably filled with coffee since he can never function properly without a good cuppa.  I then made myself known and that’s when Freddie said. “There’s our rock n roll angel.”

“Morning guys.”

“Morning love.” They all chorused back to me.  I walked over to my table booth and sat down.

“How you feeling love?” asked Roger as he leaned up against my island.

“Much better. How long was I out?”

“Two days.” Answered Deacy.  My eyes widened and I said.

“And you guys just stayed here.”

“We promised we wouldn’t, and when it comes to you, you know we’d go to hell and back for you.” Answered Brian.  I looked at my boys with the warmest smile and said.

“You guys are too much. I just hope I didn’t cause Miami or your wives to get peeved at me.”

“Of course not darling, we called them and explained what was happening and they’ve agreed that you needed us more than they did. Miami’s even agreed to give you a paid leave of absence for personal reasons.” Answered Deacy as he came up to me and placed his hands on my shoulders giving them an assuring squeeze and rub.

“Okay that’s it I’ve giving that man whatever the hell he wants come Christmas. He spoils me too much, he’d never would’ve done this had I stayed his intern.”

“Oh don’t be ridiculous darling, you deserve to be spoiled.” Answered Freddie in a tone that sounded like he was giving a King’s commandment.  I playfully rolled my eyes and that’s when Roger came up to me with a plate of my favorite breakfast; scrambled eggs, pancakes, 2 strips of bacon and precisely 10 cut up pieces of sausages with a tall glass of orange juice.

“Your breakfast milady.” He gestured with a dramatic bow.  I shook my head at him softly giggling and I said in my poshest voice.

“Why thank you kind Mr. Taylor.” Then I began to eat my first meal in 2 days.

Once I was done, I was now in my living room with the guys.  I was sitting by the window while the boys mainly gathered around the center of the living room still discussing their Greatest hits vol.1 album about which song should go into it.

Meanwhile my mind was bouncing off between going back to my hometown of Leicester and confronting my aunt and possibly saying goodbye to my uncle for the last time, or just staying out of it and obeying their final wish which was they never wanted to see me again for as long as they lived.  I sighed heavily but silently because I didn’t want the guys to notice me right now.

And it was then I finally came to a decision.

“Hey guys.” At the sound of my voice, they stopped talking and they turned to me and Brian said.

“Yes love, what is it?” I took a deep breath and exhaled softly and I said.

“I’ve made my decision.”

“On what?” asked Deacy confused.

“I’m going to see them.” At that statement, the boys looked at me gravely.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea (y/n)?” asked Roger with nothing but utter concern.

“Look I’ve been driving myself crazy because of this, at any other time at the mention of my aunt and uncle I would’ve turned away and done what they wanted of me, which was to never even see me again. But you were right Brian. If I wake up the day after I get the official message that my uncle is dead. Then I’m going to regret it for the rest of my life, and the press will eat me alive calling me the abandoner and not the victim. I want to show them, both of them that I’ve proved them wrong. That all the years of belittling, verbal abuse before finally tossing me out onto the streets like trash, didn’t keep me down.”

“Then let us come with you.” He said.

“No, no. I…..I need to do this on my own. I need to prove to myself that I can do this without you guys.” There was silence in the room and that’s when Brian came up and said as he cupped my cheek in his hand.

“Just know that we’re a phone call away should you need us.” I nodded.  I then went over to my phone and dialed the number for my driver, Louis.  It rang a couple times before I heard his voice.

“Louis it’s (y/n). I’m sorry to call on such short notice but I need you to drive me somewhere.”

Within 15minutes, Louis came with the limo and I had on a dark grey pea coat gifted to me by Roger, a hand-knitted scarf made by Veronica and given to me by Deacy, some large sunglasses gifted from Brian to hide my face and a red French flat cap given to me by Freddie.  And Louis was driving me back to my hometown.

As we drove the 2hr and 21min. back to my hometown, I clutched onto the coat trying to get the strength from my boys from each article of clothing I was sporting as well as trying to draw up my own courage they’ve helped instill in me for the impending doom that would soon happen.

And it seemed that the weather was matching my mood because all the way there, it was raining and the skies were dark.  I leaned up against the window, each breath of air I exhaled fogged up the window screen and Louis said.

“Any particular reason you didn’t want the boys joining you Ma’am?”

“Personal reasons Louis, just drop me off a mile away from the hospital if possible.”

“You sure? I can drop you off right by the hospital. You don’t have to walk in this weather.”

“Trust me Louis, if people found out a limo was parked outside the hospital, they’d call the press and soon my arse is all over the tabloids claiming I’ve slept with one of the guys and could be pregnant. Or find out my family drama and exploit me as some guilty whore begging for forgiveness.”

“Understood ma’am.” He said and there was no more conversation after that.

When we finally reached my district home of Glenfield, suddenly a whole bunch of memories were coming at me.  As we drove along, we even got to pass by the very street where I lived when my parents were still alive and I allowed a few tears to unconsciously slip out as memories of my parents came back to me.  

Once we were about a mile from the hospital, Louis parked on the side of the road and I got out and opened my umbrella to protect me from the cold rain.

“Now you’re sure you don’t want a lift straight to the hospital dear?” I smiled and said.

“I’m sure. Listen it’s gonna be awhile so why don’t you get yourself a cuppa to warm yourself up. There’s a café nearby here. Just take the first right then go straight for about a mile and a half then you’re gonna turn on Kingston dr. the café will be third building on the right. I’ll phone the café once I’m ready to head back to London.”

“Alright, good luck miss.” He said as he rolled his window back up and took off driving.  I sighed heavily and then continued on foot.

The rain dripping off my umbrella, my high-heeled boots stepping into puddles every now and then, and the coldness of the November air chilling me to the bone, even with the support of Roger and Deacy on my back.  As I passed a few people walking the streets, I didn’t even know if they were to recognize me, even if they didn’t it’s for the best.

Don’t want the press getting wind of this after all.  I’ll never forgive them for calling me a ‘Bitch at Queen’s beck and call.’ Claiming that I was only using Queen to get more fame. God I really don’t want to relive that story, that was the ugliest part of my story.

Finally after what felt like forever, I finally stood at the very hospital where my parents were taken and died and where my uncle was at in his comatose, if not deathbed, but one can only pray.  I took a deep breath before finally across the street and entering the hospital.

I entered inside and shut my umbrella back up before walking inside toward the front desk.  A female receptionist sat there and she said.

“May I help you ma’am?” I then lowered my sunglasses just an inch under my eyes and the moment she looked at me, she knew who I was. “Oh my….” I placed my finger over my lips and I said as I handed her my ID confirming legally I was (y/n) (l/n).

“I got a call 2 days ago telling me that one Graham Norrington is here. He’s my uncle and I’d like to know face to face how he’s doing. And I would also like to be kept in privacy as to not let the public know that I am here.”

“Of course Ms. (l/n), but may I just say that I’m a huge fan of your music. Your song ‘Set it all free’ really got me out of a tight spot with my boyfriend.”

“I’m glad it did for you dearie, now I would like to speak to his doctor and know where my uncle is being kept.”

“Of course. He’s in room 203 it’s just down that hall. I’ll inform his doctor you’re here.” I thanked her and went to find my uncle’s room.  I managed to find a chair just outside my uncle’s room and I sat down at it and waited.

Eventually the doctor came in and he explained to me personally what had caused my uncle’s heart attack.  Apparently he had it during work at the construction site, probably from yelling at everyone since he was the boss of all his workers.  I didn’t say a word and just let him talk.

There’s also a chance that due to the severity of the heart attack that my uncle had suffered, there was a high possibility of him dying, especially since there had been no activity and a few close calls since the day he was admitted in.

Once we were done talking, he asked me if I wanted to see him.  I debated heavily in my mind, but knowing that he was in a coma I didn’t have to deal with his bullshit nor his rage.  So I nodded silently and he allowed me inside the room.  After giving me some privacy, I took off my shades so that I could fully look at him with my own eyes.

He looked like a sleeping corpse already. He was definitely older than when I last looked at him, his hair and tache a pure white instead of grey.  His wrinkles definitely showed out more and he was as fat as ever, if not fatter.

“Thought you’d never see me again, huh? Bet your subconscious is riling up right about now hearing my voice huh?” I set my coat and scarf aside at one chair before pulling up the second chair right by his bedside.  I put my sunglasses on the top of my flat cap. “You know normally I would be screaming at you right about now, because of all the pain you’ve caused me. Kicking me out like I meant nothing to you, hell I wouldn’t have even bothered coming here to see you. I would never have even wanted to come back here to Leicester if I could help it. But….it took some friends of mine to help me gain the courage and the confidence to get where I am right now. To tell you……that I forgive you.”

I know shocker right? Now I know what you’re thinking. He kicked you out himself and has told you time and time again that you are a disgrace. Why in the hell would you forgive such a man? Well because I’m done.

I’ve been holding onto so many emotions against this man for so long. Anger, fear, sorrow, regret, for years I had to live in fear of disappointment towards both my aunt and uncle.  But I’m no longer a child, I’ve worked my way through college without them, I went through my first breakup without them, and I reached my dream and became a Rockstar without them.  I managed it, all on my own before I had known the guys, and it wasn’t until I gained the support and guidance from my boys that it was the last step I needed to become the Rock Angel.

Suddenly I heard the door open and there standing at the door looking at me in stoic shock was my aunt Joanna.

Her blonde hair was still as blonde as I remembered, and her icy blue eyes that could make you shake in fear stared daggers at me as she told me.

“You have no right to be here!”

“Legally I do. The hospital called me two days ago and told me what had happened.” I told her calmly not looking for an argument. But I should’ve known that once my aunt starts on her riled up tantrums, there’s no stopping her.

“Oh so just because now you’re some famous Rockstar you came here out of guilt? It’s all your fault he’s like this anyways.”

“And pray tell how is it my fault exactly? Last I recall you were the one who told me to never step foot into your lives again. And last time I was here was over three years ago.”  She glared down at me before storming up to me and taking me by the arm and forcefully dragging me out of the room.

I cried out in pain as I could feel her nails digging into my skin of my arm as she forcefully tossed me out into the hallway. She shut the door and she came up to me and said.

“You’ve always been a disgrace to this family. I don’t even know why we even took you in in the first place. My sister was a foolish hippie music loving freak. Never sought anything out and not once did anything for her life.”

“Don’t you talk about my mum like that!” I snapped.

“And you’re no different from her. Just because you’re now famous doesn’t make you any less than the trembling little girl I was forced to take in. Because that’s all you’ll ever be.”

“That’s quite enough of that madam.” My heart stopped. We both turned around and standing just a few feet away from us were Freddie, John, Brian and Roger.

My boys had come to Leicester.

“You never change do you, you have to always bring in others because you never could fight your own battles. The tabloids were true, you really have made the band Queen into your little pets.” My aunt sneered.

“The only thing right about that statement madam, is that like pets we have one thing when it comes to our girl. Loyalty. Something that a shrilled up shrew like yourself wouldn’t understand. Now I can see firsthand that I am correct.” Freddie answered once more as he light up a cigarette and blew out the smoke.

“You four have no right butting into a family matter.”

“Well I think you’ll find we have every right. She’s family to us, and last we recall you had just told her that….remind me again Roger.” Stated Brian before turning towards Roger as he now finished.

“Quote. You’ve always been a disgrace to this family. I don’t even know why we even took you in in the first place. End quote.” My aunt stormed up to them and said to them.

“You four think yourselves gods compared to everyone else? A silent, mute guitar player? A playboy blonde who sleeps around with anything in a skirt, probably even slept with my niece had you gotten the chance she became big?” At that statement, Roger nearly punched my aunt but Brian held his arm back as she continued her insults, “So getting a real degree for your astrophysics wasn’t enough for you? You just decided to throw away your dreams and become some guitar player as well? And you,” she then walked up to Freddie and sneered right in his face, “Don’t think I know the suspicion about you. The pictures of you walking around drunk or sick.”

“Which one ill or drunk?” Freddie sassed. My aunt only grinned maliciously as she continued.

“You are above all else a sin to this earth. Freddie the Fag Mercury.”

“Not. Another. Word!” I found myself growling.

Finally after dreaming of this moment forever, I stormed up to my aunt and with all my strength I pulled her back into my uncle’s room not wanting to cause another scene out in the hallway.  

I pushed her in the room and as the boys came in, I shut the door and locked it before coming up to her and snarled.

“Don’t you dare say another word to my boys, you understand?”

“‘Your boys’?” She mocked

“Yes. My boys. You can insult me, you can insult my dad hell you can insult my mum, your own little sister for as long as you want. But say another word to my boys again and I promise I will scar your face up so hard and deep, that not even your plastic surgeon will know how to fix it.” I threatened.

For the first time, I saw a flicker of fear in her icy blue eyes.

“These boys have given me more love and support in just 3 hours of meeting them than in the 9 years that you and Graham ever gave me!” I turned to my boys and walked up to Deacy first and said to my aunt. “Sure Deacy is quiet and shy when you see him, but his actions speak louder than his words. And he’s shown me in more ways than one of how much he cares for me. He’s like the big brother I wish I had, but I am glad to have met him this way in the end.” As I spoke, I felt Deacy’s hand at my shoulder and I gave his hand a squeeze.

I then walked up Freddie next and he wrapped his arm around my neck as I glared at my aunt and continued.

“Freddie here has been like the true uncle that I needed. He’s given me the confidence and the courage I needed to shine brighter than any star. Even when I feel like I’m not worth it, he makes me feel beautiful inside and out.” I left his side and went to Brian next.  I took his hand and he gave it a gentle squeeze as continued, “Whenever I felt like I wasn’t worth it. Whenever there were doubts in my mind, the insecurities that you have instilled into me all my life. It was Brian here who became my voice of hope. He’s shown me that I belong in this world and that my talents are worth it, that I am worth it. He knows exactly what to say that will bring me up, and never tear me down.”

And last but not least, I stood in front of Roger who immediately wrapped his arms around me and leaned his head on top of mine. Even from behind his prescription shades, I knew he was glaring at my aunt as I finally finished.

“And yeah he maybe a playboy and sometimes a hothead, but he’s my hotheaded playboy. Because I know that in the end, I’m his number one girl. Roger Meddows Taylor is caring, protective and he’s always there for me whenever I need him. No matter what time of day, rain, snow, sleet, hell even a bloody hurricane. He’s always there for me. And there was only other man I knew in my life who had as much love as Roger has, and that man was my dad.” I slowly left Roger’s arms and he allowed it as I now stood before my aunt.

I stared her down, for once finally feeling like the bigger person in this confrontation for once.

“And if you want to go to the tabloids and claim a story of how the Rock Angel came and ditched her sick uncle for fame and fortune. Go ahead. But just know that not only do I have four eye witnesses to your claims of verbal abuse, I’ve got physical evidence of physical abuse which you so helpfully gave me.” I said as I pulled up my sleeve to reveal the four deep incisions from my aunt’s nails that now showed small amounts of smeared blood.

“But you did the same to me!” she argued.

“True but unlike you, I didn’t ruin my manicured nails and penetrate skin.” As she went to check her arm to reveal no traces of nail marks. “So in the end, it’ll be your word against yours.” I stated as Roger grabbed my scarf and coat and I put on the scarf while he helped me with my coat.

I walked up to the door and took hold of the handle and said one final farewell to my aunt.

“Farewell Joanna Norrington. And I hope your husband has a dry martini for you downstairs when it comes your time.” And with that I left the room.

As my high heeled boots clacked along the silent hallways, I could feel my boys following behind me like four protective bodyguards.  I walked back up to the front desk and told the woman.

“When it comes time for Joanna Ethel Norrington’s death. I want my name off the records. Legally I am not her niece anymore. She wants nothing to do with me, and it should’ve been that way from the beginning. I want nothing to do with that family anymore.” I said not another word but walked towards my boys who grabbed their umbrellas.

As I was close to Deacy, he wrapped an arm around me and the five of us walked outside into the pouring rain towards Terry, Freddie’s driver, car.  John opened the door and I entered inside first and then Brian and Freddie came n and sat in front of me.  John came and sat to my left while Roger sat to my right once he opened the door from that side.

“Take us home, Terry.” Freddie said as he pushed the speaker button.  The car then began to drive us back to London.  The car ride was silent as I sat between Deacy and Roger and that’s when Brian broke the ice.

“We’re sorry we came (y/n), but we all wanted to be sure you were going to alright. I know you told us to stay out of it, but from what we just saw…..we’re glad we did. We’re sorry you had to go through losing your family again.” I remained quiet for a bit before I finally said proudly even though tears were filling my eyes.

“I didn’t lose my family today. I protected it.” I took my shades off and looked at my boys and smiled softly. I felt Deacy’s arms wrap around me as he leaned his head against mine.  Roger wrapped an arm around my waist while both Brian and Freddie took each of my hands in both of theirs. “For the remaining half of my life, Joanna and Graham wanted me to choose between being a miserable everyday person, or feeling sorry for myself because I wasn’t perfect. Adam in a way was the same. But you four were the only people in this whole world who thought it was okay to just be me.”

“Because that’s who our Rock Angel is.” Roger said softly.  I turned toward him and smiled down at me softly before kissing my forehead.

“We’re so proud of you darling, let’s get you home and celebrate on your greatest accomplishment of all.” Freddie said.  I nodded softly as my boys put me at the center of a group hug each of them giving me praises of proudness, softly crying tears of happiness.

I was finally free.  I had finally said what I wanted to say to both of the people that made my life hell growing up, although things with Joanna were rough, I’m glad my boys came when they did, cause I doubt I would’ve gotten the strength to finally tell her off for all that I’ve wanted to say after all these years.

Now I get to go home with my real family.

#bohemian rhapsody #bohemian rhapsody movie #bohemian rhapsody imagines #bohemian rapsody movie #bohemian rhapsody x reader #freddie mercury #brian may #roger taylor #joe mazzello!john deacon #john deacon #freddie mercury x reader #brian may x reader #roger taylor x reader #ben hardy #queen #queen imagine #queen imagines #ben hardy!roger taylor #gwilym lee!brian may #rami malek!freddie mercury #gwilym lee #joe mazzello #rami malek #ben hardy!roger x reader #gwilym lee!brian may x reader

[mrgrant9559-blog]

Safe Keeping: Prologue

A/N: Ayo, whats gucci? Yup, I’m back with a brand new fic! This one is Tony paired, which is a character I honestly thought I’d never write for, and yet here we are! Funny how things work, huh. I should include that Reader can fly and shoot basically energy blasts from his hands. So, pretty much Captain Marvel but not really Captain Marvel, ya know. Anyways, I’m hoping to be better with this fic than I am with Witch Way Is Right, as far as continuity goes. Btw, WWIR is still continuing!! It’s just I’ve been told by mutiple fic writers that in order to get rid of writer’s block, I should write something else. Hope you guys enjoy this one!!

Subject: Tony Stark x Male!Reader

Prompt: @trampledcactusboy - I am humbly requesting a something parter Tony one shot when you have the time too :) (like 2,3,4 however many parts you choose) I hope it can be in civil war time period so Tony's in that kind of mindset/feel and maybe reader can be a shield agent or hero who helped cap & friends escape but really agrees with Tony so he gets protective over him? if not you do you cuz you can never go wrong <3

Tags: @avengersohyeah @uselessace @writeyouin @trampledcactusboy @thegreatficmaster

_________________________________

You’d been with the Avengers for as long as you could remember. You’ve shared laughs, drinks, food, and a couple of moments along the way. So, you couldn’t believe your eyes when you realized what had become of you guys at this point. If someone would’ve told you 3 years ago that your team, THE Avengers, would split into two disagreeing sections over a stupid Sokovian accord, you would’ve taken a shit on their shoes and laughed in their face.

But now, it was almost like you were living a nightmare. No scratch that, you WERE living a nightmare. The same extraordinary people who you could call your brothers and sisters, were literally at each other’s throats.

You see Steve fighting a man dressed in red and blue spandex. And it looks like Steve is losing? You fly at Steve and swoop him up to the roof of the airport building and drop him off, landing in front of him to give the star spangled jolly rancher an ear full.

“What the hell are guys doing?!” You ask angrily.

“It’s long story, Y/N. And I really don’t have time for this.” He replies.

“We’re supposed to be a team, Steve. Almost like family.” I add. “So, imagine how I feel when I’m informed by SHIELD agents that not only are you and half of this so called family commiting treason, but you’re also protecting the man who killed King T’Chaka in cold blood!”

“I know it sounds crazy, but you’ve gotta believe me, kid. Buck is innocent. He’s being framed.”

“He tried to kill you and Fury just a year ago! If he’s willing to kill his best friend, brother in arms, then how am I supposed to believe that he wouldn’t to do the same to the now former king of Wakanda” I interject.

“That wasn’t him! You know as well as I do that he was under HYDRA’s control for years! He’s been trying to escape his past ever since and he’s been doing a great job so far!”

“Listen, I know Bucky is an innocent man, but what if the Winter Soldier comes out again. He’s a threat to others and himself!” I argue.

Steve sighs, realizing that what you’re saying is sorta true. “What if I can prove to you that Bucky didn’t kill anyone including the Wakanda’s king and that he’s innocent?”

“I don’t know Bucky well, but I do know he’s NOT innocent.” I say causing him to look down at his feet in disappointment. “However, if you have proof that he didn’t kill the king, then I’ll be willing to give him a second chance.” Steve looks up at me with a smile and nods in agreement. “Ok then, what do you need me to do?”

“Can you help us get to the quinjet? Take care of whoever gets in our way without causing permanent damage?” He asks.

“I can try.” You say before flying into the battle zone, making sure Steve and Bucky had a clear opening to the quinjet. You had to admit, these new people that Tony found were tough as nails. Definitely wasn’t their first time in a fight, but luckily, you were no rookie youself.

————————————

“Rhodes!!” You hear Tony yell in his suit while flying over to Rhodey’s aid. Rhodey was shot down by Vision, who was aiming for Sam. You tried to fly as fast as you could to catch him, following Tony and Sam in suit, but he had already hit the ground.

The sound. The sound his body had made when it made impact was haunting to say the least. Tony landed down next to Rhodey’s side and took off his helmet to examine the damage. He was unconscious with a bloody nose, which usually means that the person is either dead or damn near. Tony tells FRIDAY to read his vital organs. Thankfully, she replies by saying that there’s a heartbeat and that EMT are on their way.

Finally, Sam swoops in. “I’m sorry”, is all he could really say at the moment, even though he wasn’t entirely at fault. Tony didn’t care though as he raised his hand at Sam and blasted him, knocking him unconscious as well.

“Tony, you didn’t have to do that! It wasn’t his fault!” You say.

He moves his arm in you direction, his repulsors ready to fire. “Shut the hell up, Y/L/N! You’re just as in the wrong as him! I saw you helping Steve and Bucky back there. You’re supposed to be on MY side. You’re supposed to be MY friend!” He yells at you in anger, feeling betrayed and mostly hurt.

Your eyelids start to build up tears, as you find pain in what you’re about to say next. “Last I checked, we’re ALL supposed to be friends.” The look on Tony’s face tells you he was taken back by your words. “Look around you, Tones. Look at what’s become of us. We’re supposed to fight the enemy, not each other, and you know Bucky had nothing to do with the death of King T’Chaka.” Tony starts to lower his arm, which has now powered down.

Realization washes over him as he sees medics take Rhodey away on a stretcher in critical condition and the rest of Cap’s team get detained. The Wakandan Prince disappeared probably gone off to find Steve and Bucky. Tony knows Bucky couldn’t of been the one doing all these terrible things, at least not on purpose.

You and Tony finally arrive at a high max security prison in the middle of the ocean, where they were keeping the rest of Cap’s team for God knows how long. Tony walks over to each cell to talk to them about what they’ve done and how foolish they were being. Clint mostly, who retorted with his own words going back and forth with him. Tony then sees a new guy and wonders who he even is which punt a dent in the poor guy’s ego. He then walks over to Sam and asks if he’s been fed at all.

Sam just replies with snark, “Oh, so you’re good cop now?”

Regardless of what happened, Tony still cares for everyone and wants to make sure they’re at least being treated right. “I’m just the guy who need to know where Steve went.” He replies.

Sam tell hims that the only way he’s gonna get info outta him is if he goes full benny hanna on his ass. Tony starts messing with his watch, shutting off all coms in the prison system.

Tony tells Sam this, and he reveals to him everything he knows about where they could’ve gone. Tony rushes out of the cell block, with you following in suit. “Did you find out where they went?” You ask, following him to his private helicopter.

“Yup.”

“Great, I’m coming with you...”

“No, you’re not.” Tony retorts, spinning on his heel to face you.

“But I-“

“No, you don’t.” He interjects before you can finish your sentence. “What I need you to do is to stay here with the general and make sure he doesn’t send any of his people to follow me. I already told him I’m going back to the compound, but he might still suspect something.”

“Just, make sure you come back as friends. Last thing I wanna see is The Avengers break up over some dumbass accords.”

“I promise, we’ll all being sitting in front of a campfire singing Kum Ba Yah, and eating s’mores.” And with that, he enters the helicopter, on his way to help Cap and Buck find Zemo, so we could all be a team again.

Or at least thats how I hoped this day would end.

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I’m so sorry for taking so long people! I’m a busy guy, but I knew I needed to out something out for you guys so here it is. This was pretty much my way of adding Reader into the movie without changing much. Also, I’m thinking of upload my fics to Wattspad. Should I do that?? I don’t know, but I hope you guys like this new fic!

#marvel #x male!reader #avengers #avengers x male!reader #peter parker #male!reader #marvel x male!reader #tony stark #bucky barnes #steve rogers #male reader inserts #iron man #Tony Stark x Male!Reader #civil war #Captain America Civil War #cacw

[bernadineisreborn]

Handling the Truth

Chapter One: New Beginnings

Summary: You, a college freshman, are moving to NYC to go to college at Empire State University, where you got a full ride and placement in a special program. Oh, and you can also tell when people are lying. Watch out world, because you are ready to finally get things going in your favor! Plus, there are cool things to do in the city, like Spider-Man (wink).

Warnings: Swearing but not like, mean swearing

Word Count: 5,063 little words of love

A/N: Hi! Here is the first chapter, coming to you after a long spell of writer’s block (or me just being lazy idk anymore). READ THE PROLOGUE IT EXPLAINS SHIT! If ya like it, hit me up in any way shape or form you see appropriate! [Friendly reminder that everyone in this story is above 18 years of age!]

Other Parts: Prologue

You woke up to the pilot’s voice over the speaker, informing you of the impending landing.

You blinked yourself awake, stretching, yawning, and looking out the window. You stared at the skyline in awe, surprised at how much bigger New York looked than Chicago.

Not long after, the plane was landing and you were getting ready to exit. The strange man next to you looked impatient and the flight attendant looked tired, but you were ready to start a brand new adventure in the greatest city in the world.

The airport contained an unfathomable number of people for such a small place, but you managed to find the luggage pick-up. You quickly spotted your own bags, branded with a unique luggage tag you had made, and reached for them. Suddenly, another arm reached towards the unclaimed bags around you, throwing you off balance. You turned around, giving the person a death glare, when you saw that it was the same man who sat next to you on the plane. Annoyed, you rolled your eyes and decided to let it go.

Now chasing after your slowly moving bags, you pushed through the small crowd of people until you finally caught up to them, grabbing them, and heading towards the exit.

You were almost out the door when you felt someone grab your arm. It was the lying man from the plane. Again.

“Is there something I can do for you?” you said as sarcastically as you could manage, taking a step away from him.

“Um, maybe. I am having a party this weekend, and I think you would have fun. What’s your-”

Astonished, you pushed past him and started walking down the street, ignoring his derogatory calls after you. You were not going to let one stupid, pathetic man ruin your first day in New York. You barely knew the guy, and the few interactions you had with him were poor ones. You wondered what could possibly have driven him to approach you at all.

Stupid, pervy old men. Ugh.

Still strutting angrily down the busy sidewalk, you felt something land on your forehead. You looked up, the skyscrapers lining both sides of the road barely made the thick gray clouds visible from the ground. Still, it was visible enough to guess that it was about to start raining.

A tad desperate, you cut to the side of the road and tried to hail a taxi. You knew how, having been to Chicago hundreds of times, but there didn’t seem to be any empty cabs on the busy road.

Finally, a car pulled up to the curb in front of you, yellow and sprinkled with rain droplets from the increasingly heavy rainfall. A passenger got out and you gratefully began walking towards the cab, before the door closed and it sped off, splashing a puddle onto your lower legs in the process.

Fan-fucking-tastic.

You began walking along the road again, sullenly this time, trying not to let yourself cry. As optimistic as you wanted to be, you couldn’t deny that everything felt like a train wreck right now.

You sniffed, holding in your emotions, and took a deep breath. It was starting to shift closer to a downpour than a summer sprinkle, and you needed to take cover.

Luckily, there was a Starbucks at the end of the block. You gripped your backpack and your luggage bags and made your way there.

The Starbucks was different than the one in your small hometown. It was decorated in the comfortable style that you had come to associate with Starbucks, but it felt bigger, somehow, it felt more grand. You plopped yourself on the closest lounge chair and took out your phone. You had a text from both your parents, wondering if you had landed. You sent them a quick affirmative reply and glanced around you. There were a lot of people here, taking shelter from the rain. Behind you, rain fell in sheets onto the pavement from the sky above. Though inconvenient, you couldn’t deny the appeal of rain hitting the cement. The city looked like a dream.

You forced yourself to think away the stresses of the day and opened the Uber app on your phone, deciding that hailing a cab would be unnecessarily difficult in the rain. You wanted to get a coffee before your ride arrived, so you got in line.

As you wait, you let your eyes wander, noticing the boy in front of you. He was cute, with curly brown hair and warm brown eyes. His skin was lightly tanned, and he was wearing jeans with a shirt that had some pun scrawled on it in graphic letters. There was a backpack slung loosely over his shoulder.

He was talking on the phone, trying to reassure someone of something.

“Yes… No, I’m fine… I promise, Aunt May… Yeah, I’ll be home soon. Then we can go… Love you, too. Bye,” he wrapped up the conversation and then it was his turn to order, “Hi! Can I please get a venti coffee with some cream?”

You got a weird sensation in the back of your neck when he talked. He wasn’t lying, but he definitely wasn’t telling the full truth. There was something he was keeping from everyone else.

Maybe he was a murderer.

Pssh, he’s probably not a murderer. Chill out, Y/N.

Wary anyway, you scooted away from him a little. You ordered, deciding to get your usual favorite instead of anything new.

As you waited for your order, you observed the stranger more. He was staring down at his phone. He must have felt you staring, because he looked up to meet your eyes.

You quickly looked down at your own phone, cheeks growing warm with embarrassment at being caught.

The barista called out, “Peter?” and placed a cup on the counter. The strange boy, Peter, made his way to the counter, grabbing the cup and saying thank you to the worker.

Your drink came out next, and you grabbed it, watching the boy walk through the door. Your phone started ringing, and you answered it. It was your Uber driver, calling to tell you they were here.

Bags in tow and drink in hand, you walked outside. The Uber was easy to find, you shoved your bags in the car and scooted yourself in.

“Hi, your request said you’re going to ESU?” they asked.

“Yeah, the dorms. My building is called Osborn Hall,” you replied.

The drive wasn’t too long, but the traffic was even worse than what you had come to know in Chicago.

By time you got to the dorm, the rain had slowed to a light mist, and you gathered your bags out of the car. Thanking your driver and giving them a five-star review, you looked up at the building. It was beautiful, and fancy, as if it had been built recently. You walked in through the large, glass front doors.

There were a lot of people waiting inside, most of them appearing to be around your age, a few of them the age of your parents. Probably parents helping their kids move in.

You navigated through the crowd until you found what must have been the front desk. There was a boy sitting behind it, his hair long and flowing past his shoulders, dyed blue.

“Name, please?” he asked with a bored expression.

“Um, Y/N L/N,” you replied, only half paying attention to him as you scouted the crowded room.

He typed into his computer, then said with the most monotone voice imaginable, “Can I see some ID? Just to make sure it’s really you and get it on file.”

You handed him your driver’s license and he examined it.

“Sweet. Here’s your campus ID,” he said, still void of any emotion as he handed you a bright green piece of plastic that had a picture of you on it, among other information, “It also functions as your room key and stuff. Your room number is 2314. Your roommate has already checked in, so she’ll probably be in the room.”

“Okay. Thank you!” you said, trying to convey how helpful he had been.

Finally, he smiled. “No problem, if you have any questions or whatever, I’ll be here.”

You smiled back and started for the elevator. There was a little crowd by the elevator doors, waiting to go up just like you. The elevator bell dinged and you clamored in with the rest of the crowd. You ended up pressed against the back window, giving you a great view of the city through the glass pane. Even by New York skyscraper standards, Osborn Hall was tall.

As the elevator climbed the 23 floors, making various stops to drop people off, you grew in excitement. It can’t get much worse, right? It’s already been rough, so it can only get better.

Finally, it was your turn to get off.

You walked down the hall, getting closer to your home for the next 9 months. 2310… 2312… 2314. There it was, right in front of you. The door was a pristine white colored wood, and the walls in the hallway were a smoky grey. The hallway was littered with signs and posters that welcomed freshmen and advertised various clubs.

You were fumbling with the card reader, trying to get your card to work with the ID scanner on the door’s handle, when it opened from the other side.

Standing in the doorway was a girl, your roommate, presumably. She had a darker complexion, but it didn’t look like she went in the sun very often. Her hair was a luscious, dark ashy brown and it fell in natural curls down the sides of her face. She had brown eyes that glinted gold in the light, framed by thick, arching eyebrows. Her lips were set in a small smile, but she looked cautious. She was absolutely stunning and you suddenly felt less confident.

“Hi,” she said as her face moved to display mild excitement, “I’m Michelle Jones, you must be Y/N L/N?”

“Yup, that’s me,” you said with a smile, reaching out your hand to shake hers.

You had gone in blind for a roommate, hoping for the best because you couldn’t force yourself to give the energy required to find someone online. Staring at Michelle, you had a feeling that you had gotten lucky.

As she shook your hand lightly, you noticed she was wearing mostly black, but still was dressed in style.

“Sorry if I startled you opening the door, it took me forever to figure out the card reader for the first time, so I thought I would help,” she said, “Do you want me to help get your bags?”

“No, I got them, thanks though. Are you already moved in?” You two walked into the living room and you took a few seconds to look around. It was small, but it had a large window with a nice view of the city. There was a small bathroom on the left wall, complete with a shower, and two bedrooms, one on each side. Michelle had placed a small, black couch in the living room, but there didn’t appear to be any other decorations.

“Yeah, mostly, I just have to finish decorating… Your room is this way,” she explained as she led you to the room on the right, “They are both the same size, so I just took the left one.”

Your room was not big, but it was spacious enough for all of your belongings, plus you got it all to yourself. There was a twin sized bed frame and mattress already in the room. You set down your bags and said, “Wow, can’t believe we get our own rooms.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s nice, and our own bathroom. It’s almost nicer than my parent’s house.”

You laughed, “Yeah, same. I would never have been able to afford to go here if it weren’t for scholarships.”

“Me neither! Which scholarship did you get?” Michelle asked with curiosity in her eyes and a smile on her lips.

“I got put in the Leaders of Tomorrow program, what about you?” you asked, careful not to say an amount in case she didn’t have something equal.

“Oh, cool. My friend is in that. It’s a full ride, right?” you nod and she smiles, “I was sponsored by a program that helps people succeed in the arts, so I have a full ride, too.”

“Oh, the arts? What are you going into then?”

“I’m not sure, honestly, but I know it will be something creative. I like drawing and acting and fashion and stuff,” she said with a little laugh, “What about you?”

“I don’t even have a field of interest yet,” you explained, “I am hoping that I can figure something out this semester.”  

You and Michelle continued to talk as you unpacked a little, and you really started to like her. She told you that she had grown up in Queens, and that her family still lived there. She went to a school called Midtown, and said that she had some friends from high school that went to Empire State, too. You told her about your high school experiences, and you found yourselves relating to each other a lot.

Best of all, your neck remained tingle free. She did not tell a single lie the entire conversation. Michelle was like an angel sent to rescue your horrific first day in the city.

After an hour or so of sitting in your almost bare living room on the surprisingly comfortable black couch Michelle had brought, she offered to help you set up the rest of your stuff. You declined, saying that you didn’t have very much to do anyway, which was true, your family was mailing you the rest of your things and they wouldn’t be here for a couple of days.

So, you set up the things you had. You had bought a new, F/C comforter and matching sheets. You had a beautiful tapestry on your wall, a soft rug, and fairy light strung across the ceiling. The look was completed with a dozen or so photos of things that inspired you, plastered on the wall next to your bed.

Happy with your new set up, you sent a picture to your parents. Then, you exited your bedroom, finding the living room considerably more decorated than before. Michelle had hung a tapestry of Van Gogh’s Starry Night and set up a small TV. It was cute and cozy.

You walked across the small room, knocking lightly on Michelle’s door.

“Hey, do you want to go get dinner?” you asked, hopeful that she would agree because you wanted to get to know her better.

“Yeah, sure,” she said from her lying position on her bed, which was covered in a purplish-grey comforter. She had sketches taped to all four of her walls, a black patterned rug, and potted plants on her windowsill. The room smelled like lavender.

You and Michelle went to Panda Express, where you discovered she was a vegetarian. Then, you decided to go to Target to pick up a few more decorations for your living room. You and Michelle had agreeable styles; it felt like you were destined to be friends.

Laughing at something one of you had said, Michelle asked you, “Is there a name you prefer to be called? Any nicknames or anything? Or is Y/N good?”

“Y/N is good, but I’ll accept suggestions,” you said, still smiling, “Why? Is there something you want to be called instead of Michelle?”

She looked down, a little embarrassed, “Um, yeah. My friends call me MJ. So, since we’re friends, now, um… you should call me that,” she said quietly, looking up at you to smile.

You smiled widely back at her, “MJ it is, my friend.”

You walked back into Osborn Hall, still amazed at how grand it is. “God, who designed this place? It’s so fucking nice.”

MJ scoffed, “Norman Osborn sponsored it. He is a super millionaire who does a bunch of science shit.”

“Oh, yeah. I have heard about him before. He’s kind of like Tony Stark, right?”

“Yeah, kinda. Just without the Iron Man suit and the heart of gold.”

“The heart of gold? You make it sound like you know him,” you questioned.

She was silent for a moment. Then, “He spoke at my graduation.”

Cue a tiny tingle in the back of your neck. She wasn’t telling the full truth.

“That’s it? Just graduation?” you quizzed.

“Yeah, that’s the only time I have seen him in person,” she explained.

And the tingle went away. If there was a lie there, it wasn’t a big one. You were willing to accept her answers for now.

As you got on the elevator again, MJ’s phone dinged. She smiled a little, “It’s my lame friend from high school! He wants us to come up to his room so he can meet you and we can meet his roommate. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, sounds fun!” you said, but you suddenly felt uneasy.

MJ noticed somehow, and said, “He’s super chill. No need to be nervous.”

MJ pressed the button for floor 40, the top floor. You shot her a quizzical look, to which she shrugged.

If you had thought the ride up to the 23rdfloor seemed long, the ride to the 40thfloor seemed twice as long. The people on the ground faded to tiny specs as the little number near the ceiling climbed higher and higher.

The ding of the elevator accompanied the opening doors; the 40thfloor was different than the 23rd. There was a single hallway, a few doors labeled ‘Janitorial’ and one door labeled ‘4000.’

You glanced at MJ, who said, “I think his roommate has some crazy money or something.”

You and MJ walked down the short hallway and knocked at the door. There was music playing faintly inside, 90’s hip hop, and you could hear light footsteps approaching the door.

You had not been expecting to see the cute, suspicious boy from Starbucks again, but here he was, standing behind the door with vague recognition in his eyes as he looked at you, then happiness as he looked at MJ. He gave her a hug, the two of them exchanging words about missing each other.

Then, MJ was introducing you to him.

“Y/N, this is Peter. We have known each other for like five years now, so, I mean it when I say he’s a loser,” said MJ through a laugh.

Peter’s chocolate brown eyes met yours. You felt a slight tingle at the base of your neck. He reached out a veiny hand.

“Hi, I’m Peter. Uh, Parker. Peter Parker,” he said, and you watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down his creamy neck.

You met his hand with yours and shook it firmly. You realized that you probably looked like you were glaring, and made an effort to soften your expression with a smile.

“Hey, I’m Y/N L/N. It’s nice to meet you,” you offered. He smiled timidly back at you, unruly eyebrows crinkled.

“Um… Do you guys wanna come in? The place is pretty nice, and uh, you can meet Harry,” said Peter as he began walking back into the dorm room.

The ‘dorm room’ was much closer to a penthouse apartment. As nice as you had thought your own room to be, this made it look ridiculous. The furthest wall was a less of a wall and more of a window; it was made of crystal clear glass and displayed and the best view of the city you had ever seen. The rest of the room was decorated sleekly, with dark wood and black accents. There was a huge TV, a leather couch that lined the room’s corners, and a complete kitchen with marble countertops.

You couldn’t even begin to comprehend how rich Peter’s roommate must have been.

As your and MJ’s eyes swept the room in awe, another boy approached. He had neat, dark blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. Taller than Peter, he was dressed nicely; a button up shirt, dress pants, loafers, and a sports coat. He looked at you and MJ with a small, patient smile on his face, as if he was used to people reacting this way to his wealth.

“Harry Osborn,” he said, “Good to know that Peter has pretty friends.” He took your hand first, kissing your knuckles lightly. You couldn’t help the feeling of heat rising to your cheeks. He did the same to MJ, and she rolled her eyes but accepted the gesture.

“Good to know that Peter has rich friends,” she responded sarcastically, crossing her arms at her chest.

You looked at Harry skeptically, “Osborn, as in…?”

He laughed a little, awkward with his next words, “Yes… Osborn as in Norman Osborn, as in Oscorp, and as in Osborn Hall.”

You nodded, looking around again, “Makes sense.”

MJ glanced between the two boys in curiosity, “How do you two know each other?”

Peter finally spoke up, “Uh, our parents used to research together, so we were childhood friends. We have recently gotten back in touch, and…” Peter trailed off, gesturing around him.

You didn’t get any tingles that time. He was telling the truth.

The two boys gave you and MJ a tour of the rest of their dorm/penthouse, which consisted of two bathrooms and three separate (and very large) bedrooms. The first bedroom, which belonged to Harry, was decorated with a few framed Forbes magazines and pictures of Harry with an older man you assumed to be his father. The second bedroom, Peter’s, was decorated with a shabby but soft looking comforter and Star Wars posters. The third bedroom was occupied by a boy called Ned Leeds, who was out to dinner with his family, but was known by both Peter and MJ in high school. They promised that you would be introduced to him soon.

When the tour was complete, you and MJ made your way back to the door, saying your goodbyes and goodnights, promising to catch dinner with the pair sometime soon.

Peter’s brown eyes followed you as you left. Even after Harry had walked away, Peter watched. You waved a final goodbye to him and tried to ignore the strange feeling of his eyes on the back of your head as you approached the elevator.

You couldn’t help but think: Murderer.

But by time you and MJ turned around to face forward in the elevator, the door had shut.

As the elevator doors closed, you turned to MJ, “That was insane,” you giggled.

“I know!” she said, astonishment appearing on her face, “How does one person have that much money?”

“No idea. And how is one person so good-looking?”

“Who? Peter or Harry?”

“Well, Harry, but Peter, too! You could have told me that your friend was gorgeous beforehand,” you say, nudging her shoulder a little.

MJ laughed, “Yeah, whatever. You’ll make his head big if he hears you talking like that.”

---

The next day, you were supposed to meet with your mentor for the Leaders of Tomorrow program. There was some kind of ceremony, where the program board provides dinner to both the mentors and the students, allowing them to get to know each other or something. Since you had no idea what field you were interested in, you had taken a quiz, and they were going to match you up based on your responses.

You were nervous, to say the least, but you wanted to make the most of this opportunity, so you decided to rise to the occasion.

The dinner was semi-formal, and you had packed your favorite dress from home. It was from one of your school dances and could easily be considered semi-formal.

Plus, you looked pretty damn good in it.

Anyway, your mentor was a constant for all four years of university. Getting paired up with someone that you didn’t mesh well with would affect your entire experience in the program.

God, I hope this goes well.

You spent the first half of the day hanging out with MJ, still getting to know her, and unpacking the box of things you had gotten in the mail from home.

You started getting ready a few hours before the event. The shower in your dorm was decidedly better than expected, and the hot water helped to wash away some of your nerves.

You finished getting ready in your bedroom, using the mirror you had set up on your desk. You opted for a simpler makeup look that highlighted your cheekbones and eye color. Then, you added a statement lip color that went well with your dress.

You were just about ready, clipping in your earrings, when MJ knocked on your door.

“Hey, girl! How you doing?” she asked. You stood up and began searching for your shoes.

“I’m okay. I mean… I’m nervous. Yikes, how do I look?” you asked her, pretty sure she would give you a straight up answer and trusting her sense of style.

She looked you up and down, eyes narrowing as she studied your appearance.

Finally, she let out a whistle, “You look damn good, Y/N,” she replied, an approving smile gracing her lips.

No tingle; she really meant that.

Your cheeks burned, always so susceptible to compliments. “Thanks, MJ. Wish me luck!”

“Yeah, yeah, you don’t need it. They’re gonna love you,” she said, ushering you out the door and waving at you.

“Bye, MJ,” you said, waving back as you started wobbling down the hallway, not used to the heels yet.

Shit.

The ceremony was being held in Osborn Hall, so the trek there was only a matter of taking the elevator to the right floor. But, once you reached the ballroom, which had been decorated beautifully in preparation for the ceremony, you were lost.

There were people everywhere. Literally everywhere. You couldn’t even see the stage.

By the grace of some being above, you managed to find your assigned seat at one of the round tables, marked by a name card that had fancy letters on it.

You sat down, arranging your dress around you. It was 6:02 pm. The ceremony was to start at 6:30, but you were supposed to get there early to meet your mentor.

You looked around you, guessing that about half of the people in the room were contributors to the massive fund that put you and 49 other students through college for free, and that the other half was made up of staff, students, and mentors.

A couple of minutes later, someone else sat at your table, another student. You tried to make pleasant conversation with them until your mentor arrived. However, theirs arrived first, and you watched the happy introduction wistfully.

A couple more minutes passed, and you heard a familiar voice behind you.

You turned around, and MJ’s friend Peter is there, talking to an attractive older man, around 50, with dark, styled hair and calculating, brown eyes. You didn’t have the best view, but you could tell he had a fashionably-styled goatee, and a perfectly-tailored, navy blue suit that screams “rich.” He wasn’t wearing a tie, instead allowing his white button up to hang open a button or two more than appropriate. His lips were moving, and his face was sarcastic, but you can’t hear what he was saying.

Peter didn’t notice you looking at him. He was wearing a pretty fancy suit himself, dark grey with a black tie. He looks nice, and you can’t help but stare a little as his eyebrows crinkle in concentration at something the older man is saying, the right eyebrow a little more out of place than the left. His pursed lips crack into a smile as he listens earnestly.

You caught yourself smiling at the sight.

The pair shifted a little, and you were able to look at the older man’s face more carefully.

It’s Tony Stark.

How the hell does Peter know Tony Stark?

You were still studying them, guessing that Tony was Peter’s mentor, when someone pulled out the chair next to you. It was a Latina woman, mid to late 30s, beautiful but intense as she made eye contact with you and attempted a smile.

“Hi, I’m Gina Lupo. Are you Y/N L/N?” she asked, dark eyes focused on you as you stutter a response.

“Hi. Yes, that’s me,” you said, offering her a hand to shake. Her long, dark brown hair was pulled into a sleek ponytail, and she was wearing a nice, black pant suit.

Her firm handshake confirmed what you suspected, “Good. I’m your mentor, then,” she laughed, but her intimidating expression remained in place as she sat down next to you, “Where are you from?”

“A couple hours outside of Chicago, how about you?”

“Brooklyn,” she said with a small smile, “How did you end up at ESU?”

“This scholarship, mainly. But I have always wanted to go to school in a big city,” you explained.

She nodded, “Do you know what you want to study?”

“No, not really,” you said with a nervous laugh, “I am hoping to figure it out at some point this year.” I am hoping you can help me figure it out.

She nodded again, “I didn’t know what I wanted to study until my second year of school.”

“What did you decide on?”

“Double major in Criminal Justice and Psychology,” she said, eyes scanning the room as she spoke, “I went to the police academy right after I graduated. Eventually I worked my way up to detective status, and now I run the department.”

Impressive.

“Wow, that’s…really impressive. How did you know that you wanted to go into criminal justice?”

“I-” she was cut off by Peter sitting down at your table with Tony Stark. Peter didn’t seem to have noticed you, yet, his chocolate brown eyes still intently focusing on Tony.

What are the chances that he would be seated at my table?

Then, he looked up.

His eyes widened, “Y/N!” he exclaimed, looking you up and down a little, clearly surprised at your presence. Tony’s eyes followed Peter’s, reading the situation. Gina’s eyes followed Tony’s, clearly holding back in amazement.

This was going to be interesting.

---

A/N 2: If you made it this far without quitting or vomiting…… thanks for reading and let me know what you think HERE! Watch for chapter 2 and pls give me love😙😙😙😙

Tag List: @condy-wants-a-cookie @misskarynie (let me know if you wanna be added!)

#peter parker x reader #peter parker #peter parker imagine #Peter Parker imagines #Peter Parker fanfic #marvel fanficiton #avengers fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #avengers #marvel avengers #tom holland #harrison osterfield #harrison osterfield x reader #tom holland x reader #spiderman x reader #spiderman #spider-man: homecoming #spiderman fanfiction #spiderman: homecoming #tony stark #ummm idk #bernadine writes #writing #handling the truth

[daydream-hobii]

BTS Reaction to: Seeing You for the First Time

Authors Note: Hello everyone! This is my first reaction to this blog, and I hope you all enjoy it! If you have a reaction you want to request, send it in! ^_^

SEOKJIN:

            You were desperate for grocery’s and had only one apple in the fridge. You gave in, making a list and heading to the grocery store. Jin had a similar problem, but the only thing he needed was soy sauce. Feeding seven people every day is a task to be accomplished, and soy sauce was liquid gold. When he first saw you, you were eyeing the soy sauce section with questionable eyes. You wanted to try a new recipe that include it but had no idea which one tasted better. Jin was bewildered at how pretty you were, and dare he say, you were prettier than him! He gave a small smile, walking over and grabbing his. You looked at him, apologizing for being in the way. “This one tastes the best, if you ask me,” He said softly, smiling. You were wide eyed, nodding as you grabbed it, reading the ingredients. You smiled as he chuckled, “What recipe are you making?” He’d ask. You two would talk about it, and he joined you for the rest of your shopping, giving you the best brand, in his opinion.

YOONGI:

            You were at a live music bar, by yourself. Yoongi went when he was having writers block, in desperate need of inspiration. At first, he didn’t see you. He sat directly behind you, and the bracelet you were wearing shinned in the light and hit his eyes. After it happened a couple more times, his frustration won the best of him. He leaned forward, gently tapping your shoulder and was prepared to calmly ask you to take it off. When you turned around, however, he was shocked at your beauty. His eyes widened slightly, and he lost his words. “Your… bracelet. It keeps flashing into my eyes…” He would say, blushing softly. You would apologize constantly, taking it off and continuing to apologize quietly and blush. The rest of the show, he’d just stare at the back of your head, taking in your features from the side. Needless to say, he found his inspiration.

HOSEOK:

            Hoseok was at a coffee shop, typing away at his computer and working hard on his music. Even though Hope World just released, he was thinking up new lyrics and beats, and was typing away to keep them fresh. When you walked in, he looked up for a split second before looking back at his computer. He couldn’t help but look at you again, staring with curious eyes and taking in your looks. You ordered your coffee and went and sat at the table in front of him, playing on your phone and waiting. He tried desperately to focus on his work but found himself continuing to look at you. “Y/N?” said the barista. You look up, and Hoseok’s heart sank. He now knew your name and was worried you were going to leave after you grabbed it. When you came and sat back down, he stood up quickly, walking and sitting across from you. You jumped at his abruptness, but his sunshine-like smile made your nerves disappear. “Hello, I’m Hoseok. I’m trying to work but would hate if I missed this opportunity to talk to such a beautiful girl,” He would say, nodding. You would blush, drinking your coffee and looking at him. “How charming. Let’s see if you can swoon me, Hoseok,” You’d say, making him blush. You both would talk for hours on end, enjoying each other’s company.

NAMJOON:

            Namjoon was desperate for a new book, the stress of his comeback too strong. Reading brought him peace of mind, and he had already read all of his books twice. He wanted something fresh, so the local bookstore was perfect. It was a small place, so before he even entered he saw you through the window. You sat alone at a table, reading a book that instantly peeked his interest. He walked in and looked for what he came for. When he found a good-looking book that he wanted to read, he looked to see if you were still there. When he saw you invested in your book, he sighed in relief. He looked to see if a table was open, but when he noticed none were, he broke a sweat. He took a deep breath, staring you down and walking over. He gave a small cough, gaining your attention. Your eyes showed slight annoyance but softened at how embarrassed and panicked he was. “Is this seat taken?” He questioned, scratching the back of his neck. You shook your head no, and he sat down. After a while, you would give small comments about books, and a friendship bloomed.

JIMIN:

            When Jimin first saw you, you both were in a convenience store. He’d be a bit timid, but he knew he wanted to talk to you. He’d have a small blush on his cheeks and wide eyes and would casually walk over to stand next to you to look at the items in front of him curiously. You’d look at him surprised and give a small smile before moving on. Wherever you went, he would be there, looking at the items around him. He would be desperately trying to get up the courage to say something, but in the end, you were the first to speak. He couldn’t feel more relieved and giggled the whole time the two of you talked, and even managed to get your number in the end.

TAEHYUNG:

            You two met in a clothing store. This store was somewhere affordable for the average person, and Tae wanted to see if he could find something new. He hadn’t seen someone so gorgeous in his life. He had his usual wide eyes and just seemed to be mesmerized by you. You noticed him staring and was a bit uncomfortable with his looks. You would give a slight blush before heading up front and paying for your items. Once you did, you quickly walked out when you heard someone shout out at you, making you turn around. It was Tae, who looked desperate and a bit calmer. You merely smiled, nodding in hello and walking away. He would then go to the same shop every day until he saw you again.

JUNGKOOK:

            Jungkook was at an arcade with Jimin and Tae. You were there with a couple of your friends, occasionally shouting out when you won against them. Jungkook saw you and was immediately intimidated. He would stay as far from you as possible, Jungkook easily becoming JungSHOOK. You were too pretty, and he wasn’t confident with talking with girls, let alone PRETTY girls. Jimin and Tae noticed, and decided to help the poor boy, who desperately pleaded them to not do it. As his Hyungs, they took it upon themselves to go challenge you and your friends to zombie shooting game. They made Jungkook go against you, and you could see the actual sweat going down Jungkook’s forehead. However, once you both started playing, the competitive side in him shinned through. By the end, you had won, and he wanted a rematch. You both played games together until closing, easily making a new friend.

#bts #bts reactions #Bangtan boys #Bangtan reactions #seokjin #jin #jin reactions #jin imagines #yoongi #suga #suga reactions #suga imagines #hoseok #jhope #jhope reactions #jhope imagines #namjoon #rm #rm imagines #rm reactions #jimin #jimin imagines #jimin reactions #taehyung #v #v reactions #v imagines #jungkook #Jungkook reactions #Jungkook imagines

[girls-scenarios]

Lost In Your Allure

Idol: Seungyeon (CLC)

Prompt: CLC Ceo!Seungyeon x Stripper!Fem!Reader: Fluff & Smut (if you want): The reader is a famous pole dancer and Seungyeon is her favorite customer. Seungyeon always gets jealous when other guys try to hit on the reader, so she offers a better life with her. Kind of like the Black Dress MV?

Writer: Admin Kiwi

A/N: This is the first CLC request we’ve gotten and I was honestly so happy when we got it because I’ve loved CLC since Pepe era and it’s so sad that they aren’t as popular as they deserve to be. So there isn’t any smut in here, but there is a mildly sexy moment. I also love this prompt so I hope I do it justice and that everyone enjoys!

Warnings: A curse word or two and a sexy club scene, but no actual smut.

She hadn’t really been thinking. It had been a long day-a long month, really-and Seungyeon had just wanted somewhere to get a drink and unwind. She’d only been to a strip club once before, for a friends bachelorette party, but some of her coworkers had said that one only blocks away from her office was a good place, so she’d shrugged her shoulders and climbed into the car with them, not really expecting much.

The music was loud, but she didn’t really mind, making a beeline for the bar as soon as she stepped inside. One of her coworkers said something about getting his regular table, but she tuned him out, mind concentrated on getting a glass or two of strong red wine to drown her stress in.

It wasn’t until she had the glass of wine in her hand that she looked around. She spotted her coworkers at a table near one of the stages and began to make her way over when her eyes strayed to the stage itself and she saw you. Her mouth went a bit dry and she stopped in her tracks, staring.

You were gorgeous. She’d met and seen a lot of pretty girls in her life, but none of them even compared to you. Even in the shitty club lighting, you looked ethereal, skin glowing and lips bright red, parted in a way that did things to her stomach. Shaking herself, she slowly made her way to the table in front of you where her coworkers already sat, suddenly glad she still looked professional from work.

As she sat down, your eyes met hers, and she swallowed, lost in the way you looked at her and smiled before turning away, hair flowing behind you. Taking a sip of her wine, she tried to catch what her coworkers were talking about, but it seemed like all that her brain wanted to focus on was you, and the way you spun around the pole in your lacy black outfit like it was the easiest thing in the world. 

The place was nice, but the nicest thing she’d seen all night was you. You glass was dry before she even tasted the wine, and someone was putting another one in front of her, and she felt a little bit lost, but she didn’t mind it because every bit of stress she’d felt before had been lost in your thighs. So she sat back with her glass and watched you, and like you knew how she felt, you locked eyes with her as you danced, and she felt like she was the only person there watching you.

At the end of the night, she excused herself from the group and approached one of the bouncers. All it took was for her to hand him her card, and then she was in, following behind him as he led her to your fitting room.

After he knocked a few times, you opened the door, still in your stage outfit with your eyes wide and lips parted, and she felt that feeling again. It prompted her to pull out a wad of cash and hand it over to you, giving you a smooth smile.

“I loved you tonight. My name is Seungyeon, let me treat you to something nice sometime.” You took the cash and looked at her underneath long eyelashes, giving her a little smirk.

“For this much, baby, I’ll give you a backstage show.” You led her into your dressing room, and shut the door behind you, eyes dark, and that was how it started. 

Seungyeon had been lost in you since the beginning.

-

It only took a month for her to realize that she was completely, totally in love with you, one more for her to ask you on an official date, and a few more after that for her to come to the conclusion that she hated other people hitting on you when you worked.

“Those men were such scumbags,” she complained one night after picking you up from work and having to ward off some rather persistent admirers. You laughed, used to the kind of attention you tended to get from drunk customers, putting a hand on her shoulder to calm her down.

“It’s okay, Seungyeon, you know I’d never cheat on you. My body guard takes care of those guys anyway, so it’s not a big deal.”

“Still,” she said, huffing as she pulled her car into her garage and killed the motor. “I hate that people treat you like that.”

“Not everyone is as sweet as you are, babe,” you said, and there was a bitter truth to your words. Working in a strip club wasn’t always easy. You unbuckled your seat belt and stepped out of the car, and as she followed suit, Seungyeon felt suddenly annoyed with herself. How could she just let you work like that when she could easily pay for your living expenses? She didn’t want to control you or anything, but she hated to watch you work in such a place when she could offer you something better.

As she stepped into her home with you trailing behind her, she made up her mind to bring the subject up to you that night. There was no use waiting any longer.

“Are you hungry?” She asked, flipping on the lights and kicking off her shoes. The large living room lit up and you grinned, kicking off your own shoes before collapsing on the giant, comfy couch.

“I’m always hungry after work,” you said, closing your eyes as you sprawled out. Seungyeon couldn’t help letting out a little laugh as she pulled out her phone and sat on the couch next to you, letting you place your head on her lap.

“What are you in the mood for tonight?” You hummed in thought, and Seungyeon pushed some of your hair out of your face. You had bags under your eyes, noticeable now that you’d washed off your makeup, and you smelt like the club: smoke and a various mixture of liquor. But underneath it all, she could still smell the perfume you were wearing, the expensive Chanel brand she’d bought you for your birthday.

“Pizza is always good.” Immediately, she dialed the familiar number, not needing to ask you what kind of pizza you wanted. It was always the same.

Only moments later, the two of you sat on the couch with a giant pizza box on the coffee table in front of you, watching another episode of some cartoon on Netflix that the two of you had started a few nights before. You looked tired, and as you ate, you leaned into Seungyeon’s side, eyes only half focused on the tv. She pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“You need to go to sleep after you eat this,” she said, “you had a long night.” You nodded your head before resting it on her shoulder. It was an awkward position to eat in, but you were so tired that you didn’t really care. She watched you for a moment more before turning her eyes back to the tv and swallowing. She was nervous about bringing up the subject, but she knew she had to. 

As the episode ended and you finished the last bite of your slice of pizza, she brought it up.

“Would you quit working at the strip club if you could?” Her question caught you off guard, and you blinked, taking in what she’d said as you sat up.

“I mean, yeah, I guess I would. But I have to pay to live so I don’t really have a choice right now.” You looked at her and tilted your head, looking tired and confused. “Why do you ask?” She shrugged her shoulders, trying to seem nonchalant.

“Well, I mean, I could help you with that. Living expenses, I mean. You could quit and I’d take care of you while you did whatever else you wanted to do.” You leaned your head against the couch and smiled.

“So like, you’d be my sugar mommy?” Seungyeon felt her face flush, and she laughed out of nervousness. She’d never been this nervous about anything before, but something about you made her shy.

“I guess you could call it that. I don’t want to control your life or anything, don’t get me wrong. I just.... Want you to not have to deal with everything that comes along with your job now when I can help.” You reached over and patted her cheek.

“Don’t worry, I would never think that you’re trying to control me. That’s not like you.” You paused and your hand fell down to your side. “Just. Give me some time to think about it? I’m really tired right now.” She nodded quickly.

“Of course. You had a long night. Let’s go to bed.” You smiled and held out your hand, and she took it, helping you up, and as the two of you headed towards the bedroom, she placed a kiss to your cheek and decided that, whatever your choice, she would accept it.

-

Seungyeon woke up to the sun streaming in through her blinds and the smell of coffee. When she rolled over, you were gone, and the door was open, and the clothes you’d been wearing the night before were still on the floor. Yawning, she sat up and rubbed her eyes, blinking in the bright light as the memories from the night before came back.

She could hear you downstairs in the kitchen, listening to your favorite music through one of the Bluetooth speakers, so she threw her legs over the side of the bed made herself get up. It was a rare day off for her, and she took her time getting dressed and combing out her hair before she went down the stairs to join you.

When she got into the kitchen, there was a pan of biscuits cooling on the oven, and you had some on a plate in front of you, sipping your coffee while wearing her bathrobes, hair still wet from your shower.

“Good morning, beautiful,” she said, voice still a bit raspy as she wrapped her arms around your shoulders. You smiled and leaned back into her, drawing in the warmth from her embrace.

“Right back at you,” you replied, leaning your head back to look at her, and she kissed you. You smelt like the berry shampoo you’d used that morning, and a little bit like coffee, and she loved it. Loved the way you looked in her kitchen, in her house, comfortable like you belonged there. “I made biscuits and coffee.”

“I see that. Thank you.” Reluctantly, she let you go and got herself a plate and a cup of coffee before sitting down across from you. The morning was quiet other than your music playing in the background, and Seungyeon reveled in the rare slow, sleepy morning, sipping her coffee and leaning back in her chair.

“Hey. So, I thought about what you said last night.” Slowly, she sat her cup down, but she felt none of the anxiety she’d felt the night before, instead leaning forward and giving you all of her attention as you took a deep breath. “And I think. I think I’d like to quit.” She smiled, feeling relieved, and reached over to hold your hand. “I’d like to go back to school and maybe work with animals or something. Learn how to do something other than dance around a pole. If that’s okay.”

“Of course that’s okay,” she said, running her thumb soothingly over your hand. You smiled, and she felt her chest swell with affection. “You can move in, if you want. Everything is up to you, but whatever you decide, I want you to be happy with it.”

“I really managed to get myself a sugar mommy, didn’t I,” you joked, but she could tell that you were happy, so she laughed and squeezed your hand.

“I guess you kind of did. But I’d never tie you down to depending on me. I want you to better your life for you. And I never want you to deal with those scumbags at work again.” You got up from your seat and rounded the table to plop yourself down in her lap and give her a tight hug. She held you just as tight until you pulled back to give her a passionate kiss that left her head spinning. Even after dating you, you still made her feel dizzy.

“I love you, Seungyeon,” you whispered against her lips, before kissing her again, portraying all the things you couldn’t say. And she understood it all, only pulling away from you to whisper it back before she let you know she felt the same way.

“I love you too, (Y/N).”

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